#but I think some/ the majority are very...toxic...abusive?

[gaypirate420]

Me trying not to listen to the voices and write a Jasper/Major fic.

[m1dn1ght-r0t]

Eyes Wrapped in Wool

Yandere! (ex) husband x amnesiac! fem reader

TW: manipulation, toxic/abusive behavior, mentions of (potential) forced imprisonment, coercion A/N: pretty sure amnesia doesn't work this way (i'm no medical professional) but pls suspend disbelief for the sake of the plot ahahah

Your husband never expected things to turn out this way. But by some stroke of luck—or perhaps divine intervention—you ended up bed-ridden in the ICU, suffering from multiple bone fractures and a terrible, oh-so-terrible, traumatic brain injury. Just last week you were talking his ear off about how you've had enough. How you were done with him controlling what you could wear or who you could see, his suffocating clinginess that devolved into explosive rages when you spent time focusing on work or with friends instead of with him, the negging, the snooping, the smashed plates... Jesus Christ. You just never knew when to shut the fuck up, did you? At some point he had stopped listening. Chalked off your dramatic tirade as nothing more than you acting up because of your period—merely white noise. How many times have you guys had this same broken record conversation? Yeah, he knew this marriage wasn't smooth-sailing. If it were, you'd be less opinionated, less bitchy, more pliant, more dutiful. But what relationship was ever perfect? So, he waited for you to run out of steam, as you inevitably do, before adding salt to the wound:

“You know baby, if you weren’t parading around in those slutty clothes of yours and acted your grown age for once, I wouldn’t be behaving that way.”

The scrunch of disbelief mixed with disgust on your face only spurred him to double down. “And maybe if you actually committed to this marriage like a devoted wife would, rather than prioritize your career and practically everyone over me—your husband, need I remind you—then we wouldn’t be having these issues. Ever considered that, hm?” He purposely dragged out his words, a patronizing lilt to his tone, in hopes of reminding that thick, dumb skull of yours that he always knew best.

It wasn't until you had thrusted the divorce papers in his face that he grew silent, the severity of the situation beginning to creep in. ...What? You couldn't actually be serious... right? This was just some lover's spat. A temporary blip that'd be smoothed over with a few intentionally placed saccharine words and hot make-up sex. Like always. So why the fucking theatrics? Are you really gonna be a bitch about this and d— When you slammed the front door shut with your packed bags in tow, leaving him to stew in your parting words—that you deserved better, so much better than him, and that if he didn't sign the papers, he'd be hearing from your lawyer—did the gravity of it all finally sink in. By the end of the week, your voicemail was battered by his countless furious messages. Are you done being a flighty little piece of shit, huh? What the fuck do you think you're doing? I swear to god, baby, I'm gonna drag your ass back here. And if I have to lock you in some basement and chain your hands and legs so you'd never think to leave me again, then so fucking be it. Divorce? Yeah right. Over my dead fucking body. Then came an unknown call. It was like whiplash, really, to first hear that you had been involved in a major car crash, and then, upon rushing to the hospital at neck-breaking speed— "I'm afraid she has retrograde amnesia", the doctor solemnly informed him. He could cry. Oh, he could fucking cry.

On the outside, anyone could see how distraught he was, his hands trembling as he processed the diagnosis, eyes glistening with unshed tears. Poor husband that he was, having almost lost his beloved wife in a freak accident, he now had to deal with the news that she didn't remember who he was. Inside, however, raged a war he couldn't reconcile: what was harder? Holding back the tears, or pretending those very tears were out of sadness rather than pure, unbridled joy? Because what this neatly packaged situation had presented him with was a do-over, a chance to mend the broken marriage teetering on the cusp of divorce. And like hell he's about to let you throw away a three-year connection like some ungrateful cunt when he loves you so, very much.

~

"Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?"

As he walks up beside your hospital bed, he can't help but revel at how vulnerable you look. The slight furrow in your brows hinting at your confusion, the way you curl in on yourself as if to protect yourself from who is no doubt a complete stranger in your eyes, and your meek "Who are you?"—a far cry from the usual feisty, snarky attitude you used to dish out.

But perhaps most rewarding of all is the tentative gaze you offer him, eyes filled with a sort of curious glimmer, free from the hostility, disappointment, and hurt you'd flashed his way. You didn't look at him with hate. You simply want to know who he is.

Oh, aren't you precious? He'll gladly feed you his carefully spun narrative until you're full of nothing but adoring love for him—the embers of your thoughts about divorce and leaving him snuffed out for good.

"I know how confusing all of this must be for you. Take all the time you need. I'll be right here with you, as your husband, helping you fill the gaps, okay baby?" He delivers this with as much patience as he can muster, softening the edges of his words to avoid spooking you. But you're not soothed. If anything, you're more overwhelmed than ever. "M-my husband?" You echo, tasting the foreign word, sticky like warm toffee on your tongue.

"And...and my family? Where are they?" Your disorientation is a sight for sore eyes; how badly he wants to devour you right now. “Dead,” he intones, a script he’d been desperate to act out ever since you said your vows. The jarring news pulls a barely audible whimper from you, your eyes widening a fraction.

Shit. Too cold. Too careless.

His expression softens, the corners of his mouth tugging downward in a facsimile of sorrow as he injects a note of pity into his voice. “They died when you were very young, you see. I’m sorry.” He’s really not.

"What…? How could that be? So my p-parents, they're both—" Your breath hitches, tears welling at the corner of your eyes.

At that, he gently grabs your bandaged arm, wanting to comfort you. But when you flinch slightly, he has to resist the urge to snap at you—Oh, cry me a river. Who the fuck cares?? I'm right here, aren't I? I'm right here, damnnit, so look at me!

Instead, he tempers the resentment that's still fresh in his heart after the divorce stunt you'd pulled by reminding himself that he's supposed to be your kind and gentle partner.

So he settles for cradling your hand in both of his like it's fine china, grazing his lips over your fingertips. "But you have me, sweetheart. And I'm not going anywhere."

He half expects you to question his story—it wasn’t very convincing, even to his own ears—prepared to be barraged by your endless streams of “No, you’re wrong!”, “I don’t believe you!” or some other similar outburst.

But when all you do is gaze up at him with cinched brows, seeking reassurance, blinking at him so sweetly with your hand still snugly warmed in his, he pauses. That’s it? No suspicion, no skepticism, no outburst? Hah! He has to physically restrain himself from snorting because how fucking easy can this get?

Maybe the collision had completely scrambled your brains, rewired you to be more stupid, a little slower—exactly how he likes you.

"You trust me, right?"

And when he feels that subtle twitch of your fingers—what he gathers is your attempt at squeezing his hand back for confirmation—accompanied by the sight of your small, almost shy nod, he breaks out into a giddy smile at how utterly adorable you’re being.

Fuck, it’s hard not to already feel high off these micro-doses of innocence and receptiveness from you. Emboldened by your intoxicatingly sweet naivety, he dares to be a little greedier, creeping to perch on the edge of your bed, his hand now moving to cup your cheek.

“You have no idea how worried sick I was when I got the call. I thought you had…” He trails off, his implication clear. His face is mere inches from yours now, breaths as featherlight as his fingertips mapping every divot on your face.

“I love you.” He drags his thumb across your bottom lip, the act agonizingly slow. “So, so, so much.” Each whisper spills out heavier than the last, mirroring the increasing pressure of his thumb—your lip almost bruising from how hard he’s pinching them.

How long has it been? He can’t remember the last time he felt the warmth of your touch, your skin… eons too long without your pillowy lips pressed against his has left him completely starved.

“You can’t leave me…” A murmur too quiet to pick up. His gaze, now half-lidded, drifts downward in a drunken daze. “My wife. My good little wife. You love me too, right?”

Without warning, he leans in to close the minuscule gap.

And it’s all too fast and soon because you can feel the suffocating heat of his proximity, the chilling shared breath floating between the tight space. It’s all too much. So, in the last second, you hesitate, pulled from your stupor as you turn your head away.

But he’s not having it. Not when you’re already in the palm of his hand and he’s so fucking close. When he can already taste the opportunity to finally take out the trash and parasites leeching off you, to call up that godforsaken shithole you call a stable, steady-paying job and quit on your behalf, to have you all to himself—a blank slate to knock up with several kids and mold into the perfect little housewife he's always wanted you to be. God, he's already hard at the thought.

Grabbing your jaw firmly, he jerks your face back towards him, thumb roughly wedging between your lips and prying your mouth open.

“Baby.” The endearment spills out, sharp and cold, stripped of any warmth it might've once held.

His gentle veneer cracks ever so slightly, and for the briefest moment, you see something else. A flicker beneath the mask—raw, ugly, messy. It gnaws at the edges of your mind, dredging up something you can’t quite grasp. A memory?

“Gimme a small kiss, hmm?” Despite the smile on his face, there is no kindness to it. Just a twisted caricature warning you that you shouldn’t push further.

All of a sudden you feel like you can’t breathe, weighed down by the unsettling intensity of his stare. The man in front of you—the one claiming he's your husband and calling you “baby,” the one touching you—feels wrong. He’s a stranger, you remind yourself. An almost involuntary shiver runs down your spine, like your body remembers something your mind refuses to.

At this point, your husband has caught on to your rather obvious spiralling. He’s not an idiot—he can see your doubt giving way to panic. He contemplates smoothing things over by playing nice, but the selfish part of him ultimately wins.

He squeezes your jaw, nails biting into your skin.

“Kiss me.”

It isn’t a request this time.

[pro-sipper]

Even the nicest, most polite and genuinely curious anons that come into my inbox asking about proship things all have a common misconception about what it means to be a proshipper.

The thing I see most frequently is someone saying that they personally aren't comfortable with a lot of content under the proship umbrella and does that make them an anti or not?

When in reality the whole idea of a "proship umbrella" of content isn't really a thing. The whole concept of a proshipper is just a "ship and let ship" mentality.

I know sometimes it seems like all proshipping means is shipping rape, abuse, incest, etc but that's because those are some very extreme examples of ship dynamics. They're the ones that get brought up the most. "Well I'm not comfortable with _____" or from antis, "You're disgusting if you ship _____".

It's not a requirement of the community to personally ship all those things. It's just that "ship and let ship" includes every type of ship, including the extremely toxic ones.

I'll reiterate that I'm proship through and through, but the majority of my personal ships are very tame. Lots of best friends to lovers, high school sweethearts, etc. That's just what I personally prefer.

But I also know that someone's ships aren't the be all end all tell of a person's character, and certainly not an indication of what they think is good, healthy, or what should be normal in real life.

At the end of the day, proshipping just means ship and let ship. Don't like? Don't read. And do NOT harass real people over fictional characters. If you agree with all that, regardless of what you personally ship, then welcome to the proship community!

[bigmomma25]

Character Analysis of Pete Dinunzio (Comic Vs. Pilot)

Disclaimer: This is by no means a very good or professional analysis or anything, this is just me whipping out my Honors English high school powers for fun, to put these guys in a jar and shake them. Getting as much content out of this comic as possible even if it means yapping. Pete goes first because he's easy, lol

The Comics Highlight His Flaws

The first difference I noted when watching the pilot first and then delving into the comics is; Pete is aggressive. Much more aggressive. He's the most argumentative member in the first few panels, with most of his comments being rather pessimistic or sexual in nature. He always has some sort of retort or comeback to defend himself and his views, and his passions come out mostly in anger.

There's also a silent shame that comes with his behaviors, much more likely to complain about what he doesn't like than happily explain what he's passionate about. When he does have passionate moments, it's because these things that make him very vulnerable are being criticized, and he gets defensive. Like his love for Christopher Lee.

Without any prior knowledge of these characters, it can be assumed that Pete comes from an abusive household. His behaviors are major signs. He's most likely so combative because he's used to constantly being under fire, especially with (I think) 8 other siblings who are implied to be mostly older men. If he didn't have a slick comment or keep up this "tough" persona, he'd be their personal punching bag - figuratively and literally.

All Pete really knows is aggression, being canonically the poorest member (he states that he couldn't even afford to be in the Boba Fett conversation in the comics). It's been shown that the club lives in a shitty area in Staten Island. Plus, they're heavily bullied. It's shaped the way he communicates and interacts with the world around him. Even his obsessions - he likes seeing people get ripped apart to the point it becomes a kink.

Even the way he speaks sets him apart. Not necessarily his accent, but his word choices are usually much simpler and his points are very blunt. He's not portrayed as booksmart, and his swagger comes off more as a performance (both of masculinity and of nonchalance) than a natural way of being.

It's also worth noting his position in the very first panel of the comics. Bill is head of the table, of course, it's his house and he's the leader. (I'll get to that symbolism in Bill's analysis). But Pete is sat right next to him, lower than Bill and somewhat distant from him, but still seeming closer and getting more focus than Jerry and Josh.

His position is meant to draw your eye from an artistic perspective, he is unconsciously trying to secure himself a good spot for control and stability. If you're on Bill's bad side, you end up like Josh (I'll get into the lolcow-ification of Josh later on too), but Pete gets the least shit from Bill. Pete is not a pushover, and he feeds into Bill more. Their bickering seems almost comedic.

Totally different dynamic than he has in the pilot, so them getting along so well may be retconned. He has much more of a moral compass in the pilot, and while both versions show Pete *attempting* to be a mediator and a voice of reason, the pilot shows it more. Almost like Pete didn't want to be there, much preferring Jerry's company since they were both reasonable.

Bill and Pete's dynamic also goes to solidify Pete's relationship with his father and the toxic masculinity he displays constantly. Pete has the urge to stray and separate himself from the obviously immoral tendencies of his father, but still seeks approval from an authority figure in which he admires. Someone he sees as "cool" and capable, teeter-tottering between loving him and fighting him. His father is very authoritative, Pete was never allowed to question anything. He associates anything "girly" with pain - like how Bill associates women with sexist stereotypes, expecting to be hurt by them because of their shared experiences with bullying and Bill's mommy issues. Except Pete had it literally beat into him.

Him connecting masculinity to being capable and independent leads directly to his tendency to make choices on the fly. In a house that's always arguing, someone has to make a decision. And Pete wants to be seen as the macho man who knows what he's doing, but also doesn't care that much. So he mainly makes decisions with common sense, emotion, and whatever he's compelled to. A very "pull yourself up by the bootstraps" mentality from living in a conservative household.

Though I do feel that most of his decisions come from a place of shame. If you're secure, you usually don't have to make it a point, or brag about it, or defend it so vehemently. You just... are secure. This directly ties into his canonical bisexuality along with his horror passions. His whole life he's been told everything about him was fundamentally wrong, and he's trying to run from it. Which is why he tries to separate his personal love for horror makeup and SFX from traditional gay and drag art forms. Those things are looked down on. He hates being looked down on. Which is why he uses gays, along with Josh, as scapegoats.

The Pilot Highlights His Positives

From the first 25 seconds of the pilot, Pete is already a more positive version of his comic alternative. He's more successful in diffusing the bickering between Josh and Bill, and is more level-headed and goal-oriented. He's calmer, seeing things go wrong and actually wanting to find solutions instead of dwelling on the small details and who-did-what. He almost feels like a disgruntled mother with more humor. His independence also shines, but so does his tendency to run into danger without thinking.

Pete also sits much farther in the pilot at their meeting table. He's at opposite ends of the table, like the other head, or leader, willing to criticize Bill and never really seeing eye-to-eye with him. He tries to lead before Bill does, starting with the "Sexy Sirens" tape, and has a little bit of a power struggle. He's leaning back, to distance himself, and his nonchalance is more natural, it's just who he is. Josh and Jerry seem closer to Bill than Pete is, which is a total 180 from the comics.

A big point of Pete's character in the pilot that isn't touched upon at all in the comics is his sense of justice. He wants things to be fair - from the trivia-off in Joe's shop, to the DnD game. He tries to break up fights but will hit back if he's being hit, or someone else is being hit unjustifiably. Much like a shephard dog instead of a guard dog, like his comic alternative. But only to the club, he's still a menace to his general environment.

His trauma is shown more subtly but it is still made a point - while Pilot Josh is unconcerned when Bill's mother is yelling at the club, Pete seems the most worried and distraught, the first to start sweating and holding his head. His body language screams abuse. His introduction panel also shows he's relatively used to beat downs, seeming silently resigned and defeated rather than horrified like the other characters.

His sexuality also seems more on-par with a teen boy and less hypersexual, and there's less sexist comments. He's definitely still a little freak, shown with his creepy little faces, clawing at the glass, and his comments about "Battle Broads" the series, but he's not trying to repress nearly as much.

Combining the Two

Since the point of the comics was to be an exaggerated version of real life incels, I'd say the pilot is a more realistic representation of who Pete is as a person. But with such a short run, it didn't get to show the entirety of his character, which would have to be fleshed out across multiple episodes. The comics is a satirical piece mocking and displaying the worst of the worst, and t pilot is a commentary on the societal failures that lead to children with this kind of behavior.

There are some parts where they undeniably intersect though. Like Pete's tendency towards violence to solve his problems, and one specific comic panel (which I can't exactly find right now) where Pete comments that sewing's for sissies, and Jerry insists that he's not. Pete's reply is "Of course not you, Jerry, you're a wizard. Keep it up." This can be seen as him just wanting his clothes repaired, but it can also be interpreted as Pete putting his own insecurities and internalized feelings aside because he loves and respects his friends too much. It shows that he doesn't actually believe what he's saying to the degree he insists. Pete is the second most likely to have the capacity to change his ways, if he ever so chose.

Honestly, it's up to interpretation how these traits are combined. Some fans like the comics more, some fans like the pilot. Though Evan seems to be leaning more into the pilot interpretations of the characters now than the comics, showing a possible reboot or retcon of their old traits, just like the retcon of Epilogue Pete.

Summary (MBTI, Enneagram, etc.)

I'm gonna use my general knowledge of personality quizzes to get my point across, lol.

I honestly believe his MBTI is ESTP, as someone who studied it for a very long time and spent way too long on PDB. But he is a very unhealthy ESTP that never found an outlet for his more creative attributes, and lives in unhealthy environments that disrupt his peace.

On the good side, he can adapt easily, read his environment and the people in it well, and he is extremely passionate. He's pushed by his love of horror and film, seeking out people with the same interests and motivation to get things done. He's very experience-based, seeking out adventure, and has a lot of energy. He's very down to earth, lives in the moment almost too much, can easily improvise and comes up with decisions very quickly. He's a quick thinker, but thinks after he acts, not before, and is very life-smart. He's a good communicator, he's practical, hedonistic, and fair.

Deep down, he seeks validation from his peers, wanting to be seen as competent, talented, valuable. At his best, this helps him connect with others in a meaningful way like he craves. But he never really gets there, which leads to him forming a persona he believes will get him that respect. He's actually a very sensitive person in that way, not necessarily emotional but very touchy when it comes to what he loves. He's prone to pessimism, doesn't think about the consequences of his actions, and doesn't see himself in a world in which he's truly successful.

He's selfish, rude, doesn't trust others, has an intense aversion to rules, and doesn't look at any information that goes against what he believes. He can be bossy at times, or judgemental of others who don't meet his standards, and doesn't keep other people' feelings in mind. This leads to an internal struggle with seeing everyone as fake or not as dedicated, but also wanting, needing connection with other people. This can lead to him being rather conspiratorial, which leads to the whole "Jock vs. Nerd" conversation.

I also think he's a sp/so (self-preservation social) 8w9. His biggest fear is being hurt and betrayed by the people he loves, so he seeks out control and stability so that can't happen. He tries his best to be self-reliant so he has no need to open up to others and make himself vulnerable, and he's hard to warm up to. But once he likes you, he's loyal for life. He isn't very loud about these traits, trying to maintain an air of calmness while also being no-nonsense. He doesn't want to lose control of his anger, but also has a tendency to do so, leading to small outbursts of strong aggression. While he craves connection, if he has too many failed relationships, he may start to see them as a waste of his time and become very introverted, like how he became in the epilogue.

__

Yep, that's it, enough yapping for me. Those are all the things I noticed, hopefully it's entertaining to somebody lol.

[yourdandelionofthedeathknell]

The Theraprism: Good or bad?

Ya know, i've never been sure how to feel on the Theraprism, as shown in the Book of Bill. This is in large part because we get very little info on it, from any perspective other then BIll's own at least (and he is...Not a reliable narrator). Personally, I see three possible interpretations and I don't know which one is correct. To be clear, I think all of these are fairly valid: 1. Their methods seem insipid, but are actually quite effective. They seem to have been effective in the past (one of Bill's fellow patients is slated for release in the near-future apparently), and the Axolotl (who, while not exactly rich characterization himself, has, generally, been portrayed as wise and benevolent) referred to it as "what [Bill] needs the most", which would be weird if it doesn't have SOME merit. I, myself, honestly prefer this one, because I think it works better with the narrative of the Book of Bill (a book which, generally, does not encourage the reader to sympathize with Bill's plight. Pity, maybe, but the framing is very clearly that he kinda deserves this) and the schadenfreude the reader is encouraged to feel if Bill's hellish afterlife is, largely if not entirely, a self-inflicted one: That it wouldn't be particularly bad if not for his own combo of being unable to accept that he lost, that he shouldn't be allowed to do whatever he wants whenever he wants to anyone he wants, inability to form meaningful bonds with others, and, most of all, his total inability to admit to being wrong. He COULD leave at any time, if he would just actually repent, but...He's Bill, so...He won't. It just works best for me if his hell is largely self-inflicted. 2. They are harmful, possibly deliberately. This does have a fair bit of support textually. Mandatory therapy is already a pretty major ethical grey area at best (a major tenant of modern psychotherapy is that you can't make someone change unless they take the first step), they definitely engage in toxic positivity, and, of course, the "Solitary Wellness Void" is...Solitary confinement, which is a practice most modern medical institutions oppose and consider to be psychological torture. So, fair bit of support for this. 3. This is what I think was probably Alex's intent: They're a bunch of oblivious obnoxiously happy morons (as Bill himself would probably describe them) whose attempts to treat eons-old eldritch horror bad guys with puppet shows and arts and crafts is meant to be amusingly-inept rather then actively malicious, and whose effectiveness (such as it is) is down to having literally eternity to try. Kinda like what Mabel might do to rehabilitate someone. To use an analogy, think Charlie Morningstar from Hazbin, at least in the first couple episodes, where the fact that she's treating adult criminals like misbehaving children is the joke and is meant to indicate incompetence rather than malice. I get that isn't that much different from the proceeding (except in terms of "how seriously are we supposed to take this"), but still. I think all three of these have support, and, to be clear, I go with the first one not because I think it's the most supported (might be the least), but because it jives most with how I think about BIll's narrative IE as a character we're meant to, at best, pity, but not really sympathize with. I think the intent is "Bill is suffering a karmic self-inflicted punishment after all the pain and suffering he's caused", not "Bill is being medically abused and we should feel bad for him". The Book of Bill does invite readers to sympathize with Bill occasionally, but mostly past Bill, not current Bill. All viewpoints are valid, this is just trying to organized some thoughts on the subject. I sincerely hope I haven't said anything harmful here. Uh, cards on the table, I am neurodivergent, but i've never had therapy, forcefully or otherwise (although I did have an irrational fear of the possibility of institutionalization for a bit), so i'm sorta going off vibes here, sorry to say. If I said anything insensitive here, I apologize.

[lilangeldeath]

Things I have successfully manifested into 3D

you can believe me or not. i really don't care. i'm in my idgaf era bc when you care too much about what others think, your manifestations will fail because you're giving your power away. that's my personal belief. i will put what came in the 3D and then an example of the desire i persisted in parentheses next to it. these are from various time periods, but all have happened within the past 2-2.5 years once i started actually getting the hang of it all.

four of my friends ("i have mature, caring, loving friends that love me for who i am")

three no contact friends that had drifted out of my life, not from animosity but i missed them (same affirmation + "[insert names] are my close friends and we are always talking" + "[insert names] and i have such a deep connection as friends")

exposing people in my life who were bad for me in some way: trying to use me, manipulate me, lie to me, or just were bad people in the sense that they were toxic and bad for my life because even if they were nice to me, the way they lived their lives were toxic immature messes ("all secrets and lies are instantly exposed to me, no one can hide anything from me, i always know. all manipulators and toxic people are instantly exposed to me for what they are")

job interviews ("every company wants to interview me, they fight over me, they all want me to work for them")

escaping my abusive ex ("i have a safe place to live where my ex cannot bother me any more. i am permanently free of my ex for the rest of my life and now it's my time to shine")

keeping my job when i should have been fired multiple times for attendance, about 5 or 6 times, i had a period of time where i kept repeatedly getting seriously ill, people were passing away, other major life changes and impacts etc it was like the biblical plagues fr and at that time, the company i worked for did not care when those types of things happened to others and would give them the boot in ways that were really messed up ("the people at my job genuinely care about me, want me there, and they know i'm not lying about my life circumstances and will let me get away with whatever i need to in order to heal, rest, and come back to work")

a glow up that changed me from medium pretty/medium noticed to having people in my 3D rave about my beauty and personality ("i am so alluring and beautiful. i am so interesting. i am so magnetic and charismatic. people love looking at me and talking to me. people find me so intriguing and mesmerizing. my beauty sticks in peoples minds like a work of art")

here's my thoughts on how i did this and what i learned about manifestation through the hard and good times:

i really had to dig deep into my self concept and get out of a lack mentality. the lack mentality, fear, and anger led me down a path of things getting worse and worse. my old self was very obsessed with spending a lot of time angry about how hard i was trying both in the 3D and 4D yet things were only getting worse. i had convinced myself back then that there was no point in doing anything other than the absolute bare minimum to stay alive, and that oftentimes there wasn't any point to doing that either.

i feel like i went through a trial by fire, tested again and again to see how strong my faith was, being tested by my own self. i had to find a way to understand my 3D and 4D from my own perspective, as the whole "you cause everything in your 3D, you bring everything upon yourself" was the most annoying mentality i kept seeing when trying to learn about manifestation, as i think it's a chronically online and privileged point of view for out-of-touch people who have never experienced things like systemic poverty, sexism, racism, SA, abuse and more. i was tired of seeing egotistical and narcissistic manifestation content creators go on and on about how everyone is them, and how everything revolves around what they think is the right way to do things. the constant solipsism of victim blaming and lack of empathy for others. there is no right way. that is why i always say something is MY personal belief, not the standard or the rules.

yes i'm aware i keep talking shit on here. and i'm doing so because the vast majority of manifestation content had me so in a tizzy with how hypocritical and contradictory it was that it made me go nuts just trying to follow along. i'm not the type of person that can go along with woowoo shit that makes no logical sense. that's just not me. i am deeply spiritual but also deeply scientific. i believe manifestation, creation, whatever you want to call it, has to do with quantum physics and quantum entanglement, but that's for another post.

you really can create anything you want in your 3D as long as you make it be in a way that makes sense to YOU. for example, i personally choose not to manifest money in ways that seem over the top to me. i grew up in poverty and so affirming things like "i'm so rich, i'm a millionaire, i'm one of the wealthiest people in the world" was so annoying to me because i'm an anti-capitalist and i'd rather spend my time manifesting jobs and opportunities than try to convince myself that i'm a millionaire when i think rich people are inherently evil by nature, because through capitalism the only way you can get rich is by exploiting the less fortunate. that's an example of how i see things.

i don't dislike goddard's work, and i do truly find some of his work very useful and enlightening, i just wish so many people would stop trying to treat him like a cult leader or messiah. he didn't invent manifestation or the law of assumption. these things have been present in every single religion since the beginning of time. it's just new age rebranding of ancient cultures across the world. it's taking a bunch of different cultures and cherry picking them and putting them together to make money. it's like saying L Ron Hubbard invented the idea of reincarnation and that Gerald Gardener invented witchcraft. not saying that everyone who likes/follows the teachings of goddard do this, but from what i've seen in my personal life, many do. the power doesn't come from goddard, it comes from you. and you would have figured out that power anyways even if you never read goddard. we have been manifesting/creating since time immemorial and it's how our species evolved in general. that's my personal opinion. like i said, i find some of goddard's work very helpful and strongly resonates with me, but i think too many newbies get caught up in him like a cult leader and don't truly have any faith in themselves.

my issue in my old self was that i had no faith in myself OR in anyone else. i got tired of doing vaunts, scripting, void state, shifting, writing things down 99 times backwards and forwards, all those other things. it just got annoying and felt like i was being a psycho like jack on the shining writing "all work and no play makes jack a dull boy" over and over. it was just turning into madness instead of me facing what my real problems back then were. and i see a lot of that on here and other sites. you have to be able to get over yourself and grow up. i learned that the hard way, and i'm being harsh in some of what i'm saying to hopefully "break the glass" of illusion on anyone who may be struggling with the same things i did. i am no point of authority or leader of any kind, i just want to share how i think and what worked for me.

i am going to be posting some affirmations and tips that have to do with wavering, persistence, 3D vs 4D etc. and I honestly don't like to use a lot of the buzzwords but what I call these things is very private to me and it will be easier for others to read and understand if i just use the buzzwords. thanks xoxoxo

[solecize]

  𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (5)

ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: a ㅤㅤㅤ year of a death of a thousand cuts because, no matter what comes your way, saying goodbye is never an option. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, fake dating, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), both main characters are very flawed, violence, infidelity, foul language, substance use (illegal drugs) 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. extra warning for violent acts in a relationship (throwing objects at the wall) ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤjoin the taglist here! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤm.list | previous | next

stop, you're losin' me

i can't find a pulse

my heart won't start anymore

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: new kbs variety show announced - first mc revealed to be s.irens' novaㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   january 2017

the memories of bora bora stuck to you like maple syrup on your hands for years. it was a haunting notion to consider the trip the beginning of the end. you remember the way the golden sand stretched out across the water for what felt like forever, as it shimmered and sparkled under the relentless sun. you could hear jungkook’s laughter echoing in your ears like a melody of a song that looped in your head. the sharpest image of that week glared at you angrily - the first serious fight that you ever got into with your boyfriend.

it was a given that you and jungkook butted heads like any other long-term couple, but you found yourself stomping away to nayoung’s hotel room at the end of the third night with a bundle of clothes in your hands and tear-stained cheeks.

when she swung the door open, her heavy lids indicated that she was about to burst into a complaint about you waking her up. instead, nayoung’s eyes jolted open when they read the expression on your face. 

“what happened?” she asked.

you fought a wail, making sure to shove any sort of crying down your throat because god knows you would never stop if you started. nayoung frowned and opened the door wider, gesturing for you to come in. 

her room was always messy at the dorms and you weren’t shocked to find her hotel room in a similar state of disarray. however, it beat the way you trashed the room you’d been sharing with jungkook.  clothes on the floor, random objects hurled at the wall, and even a lamp abandoned on the floor. the anger you felt was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. you admitted this to nayoung, who looked at you like you had two heads.

“yeah, we fought and i may have knocked some things over. . . “

your temperament was definitely an issue to be discussed, but in your eyes, there were more pressing problems to address. when nayoung made room for you to sit on the left side of the bed, you immediately tucked yourself under the covers and let a few tears stream down your face. 

she frowned. “what were you guys fighting about?”

“jungkook thinks that i’m always too focused on work,” you explained, swiping at your face. “he said i don’t make enough time for him.”

at this point, you were four years into debut and permanently stuck in the fast lane. a few major events occurred in your career recently that changed the trajectory of your group’s popularity - the first being the departure of miseul. it was an unfortunate situation, as she requested the termination of her contract to go back to her hometown, where her grandmother was ill. the company then replaced her with a new girl, cara, who you did not get along with. there was no choice in the matter, though, and your group’s first comeback with the new lineup happened earlier that year.

another signficant dynamic change was nayoung’s quick rise to stardom as an actress. she’d starred in a drama that was one of the most popular of all time on mbc and as a result, grew in popularity that arguably surpassed your group. she had endorsements and jobs coming left and right, which was prioritized by your company over the group’s endeavours. 

it was a bitter feeling, being overshadowed by both your own group mate and boyfriend, but you instead focused on working harder and taking on every project you could. even with bts’ growing status and schedules, you found yourself making less and less time for jungkook and his argument was that he always did more for the relationship than you did.

“focused on work? we’re literally on vacation.” nayoung sighed, coming into bed with you. “i’m glad you’re here, though, y/n. i feel like i haven’t seen you since we landed.”

agreeing to the bora bora trip was a reluctant decision, as it was originally just supposed to be a composition of your and jungkook’s friends. you only wanted to bring nayoung and sooah, until the latter convinced you to ask cara to tag along, since they didn’t want to leave her out. the trip was intended to be the time for you to bond with jungkook, but you were now put into a position to also bond with your group members, especially since things hadn’t really been the same with the girls since miseul left. 

“nayoung, we’re still friends right?” you asked meekly, feeling pathetic even as you said it.

her shoulders dropped and she pulled you into an embrace. “of course we are! why would you say that?”

“ever since we stopped living with each other and since miseul left. . .” you trailed off, tearing away. “i feel like the group sees each other as just coworkers or something.”

you were now twenty years old and experiencing life independently. the same was said for your group mates, as you were all now off doing your own things and only reuniting once or twice a year for a comeback. at some point, you considered these girls sisters. now, those feelings felt miles away. even the bora bora trip felt forced. 

“y/n,” nayoung’s tone grew serious. “i’m always going to be here for you.”

this would be the last time that s.irens would spend time together outside of work. sooah and nayoung’s relationship soured over the years to the point where they no longer spoke by 2020 - a result of merely growing up and growing out of childhood friendships. you also began building resentment against nayoung, who would become the country’s it girl in no time and stopped publicly acknowledging that she was in a girl group. you eventually no longer considered her a friend, deciding you did not want her arrogance in your life. miseul only texted you once a year to say happy birthday. this was the breakdown of the only support system you had. 

when morning came after staying up until dawn with nayoung, you found yourself sneaking back into your and jungkook’s shared hotel room. you were surprised to see that he was not in bed, but felt a salty breeze stream in from the balcony.

  you stepped forward and saw jungkook sitting down, eyes fixed on the aquamarine of the beach ahead. when you opened the door wider to let yourself out, he already knew it was you.

  “i’m sorry, bug,” he immediately said, too ashamed to look at you.

  you were convinced that it was your hothead that drove the majority of the argument and his apology made your heart sink. you were the one who threw things at the wall and spiralled without looking back. he shot back with his own words, but you knew that you were the one who started it.

  without warning, you sat right beside jungkook and wrapped your arms around his back. you put your chin on his shoulder and he physically relaxed, as if he’d been carrying sandbags for days. you whispered an apology against his neck and held back tears.

  “you’re right. i’ve been a horrible girlfriend.” you hated how bitter the words tasted. “i’m going to do my best to fix my work-life balance. you try so hard for me.”

  TOP HEADLINE TODAY: the 2017 edition of the idol star ahtletic competition now filming in goyang!ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤjanuary 2017

  you never felt at fault for your hot temper when jungkook’s jealous eye followed you like a lost puppy. it was just as much as a problem as your own shortcomings and it always felt like a battle of who’s more in the wrong between you two.

  everyone looked forward to each year’s edition of the idol star athletic championsips, a kind break amidst the hustle and bustle of a regular schedule. some of the more active idols took the games quite seriously, but for you and the rest of s.irens, it was several days of filming that were ultimately far more chill than any of your regular promotional activities. coming off the bora bora trip, a little relay race was next to nothing in terms of effort. 

  your group’s event was the last of the day, which left you and nayoung wandering around the goyang gymnasium for the meantime. you were texting jungkook to see if he was also free, when nayoung was called over by some individuals. 

  it was in a tent area away from the view of the spectators and cameras, which you were grateful for at an event where fans watched idols like hawks.

  “nayoung! and nova!”

  exo’s leader was known in the community to be charming and well-spoken, which didn’t surprise you when you found yourself struck immediately. you’d seen him around and of course watched him on television and online, but you could now see up close just how different the aura of a top boy group was. beside him was his fellow group members and participants for the archery event later that day, who were sehun and chanyeol.

  “y/n, this is junmyeon and sehun and chanyeol,” nayoung introduced, beaming. it seemed like her rise in popularity meant that she had begun rubbing elbows with a-list idols like exo.

  you mirrored her smile. “nice to meet you all. y/n is fine, just call me that,” you insisted, as the three of you exchanged bows.

  unlike your fellow group members, you didn’t find yourself to be much of a social butterfly. you hung out with them and your boyfriend - occasionally your boyfriend’s friends. yet, somehow, others knew you. sehun asked if you were doing archery again this year, which you weren’t. junmyeon complimented your group’s last release. chanyeol mentioned running into miseul at the airport the other day. 

  as the pleasantries were made, the floor rumbled with the roar of fans across the stands. in the middle of the arena, the rhythmic gymnastics event was set to begin and all eyes were trained on the competition. that is, all eyes except junmyeon’s, whose own eyes remained fixated on you. it was a foreign sensation to feel your heart leap. 

  “excited for the day ahead?” strained chanyeol, struggling to be heard over the mcs talking. 

  nayoung replied, “yeah! i think our group has a good shot at the relay event!”

  that was false, since you knew sooah was prone to tripping and falling, but you kept that to yourself with a muffled snicker. 

  “it’s definitely going to be a long day. . .” sehun said, yawning. 

  nayoung blew some hair out of her face. “at least it’s only one day of filmng this year.”

  you enjoyed participating in isac each year, as it was mostly fun and games, but it was stressful knowing that cameras were constantly on you. each day of filming felt like the equivalent of a week when you anticipated random fancams of you on the internet the next day, probably doing mundane things like saying hi to a member of exid.

  junmyeon spoke, “it’s going to be a long day, but there’s a thing happening at kc lounge tonight after filming and a bunch of our team is going to be there. chanyeol reserved a whole section for us - you should come.” it took you a second to realize he was now boldly holding out his phone. 

  although the words were meant to address both you and nayoung, he was directly facing you and only looked at you when he asked. you were caught off guard, having trouble finding the words to respond. junmyeon’s eyes were soft and his smile was inviting - you weren’t an idiot. you knew when an invitation was beyond friendly. even nayoung was side-eying you, following the inquiry.

  “uhm - “

  “i’d love to see you there.” it was hard to miss the once over he gave you, as his boys let out a low whistle at his suaveness. you couldn't help but notice the pink tint spreading across your cheeks. 

  the attention felt nice. you’d never been approached so boldly by a senior idol before. and he was hot. you didn’t know what to say, except that you were lingering in this conversation for way too long than acceptable.

  thankfully, the vibration of your own phone interrupted whatever sentence you were to form next. with a glance at the screen, the picture of you and jungkook stared back at you and you were left dumbfounded. why was he calling you in the middle of a live event? 

  you said, “sorry, i think i’m being called.”

  nayoung nudged you, prompting you to turn around and see that jungkook was staring directly at you from a few tents away. his expression was stone-cold and eyes burned in your direction. realizing what it looked like to him with junmyeon basically asking for your number, you groaned. 

  “you think it’s safe for me to walk over there?” you muttered into nayoung’s ear, ignoring the curious stares of the three exo members in front of you. junmyeon had now slowly retracted his phone away, now also noticing jungkook looking your way. 

  nayoung looked around. “maybe if you walk behind the tents, up against the wall,” she suggested, not missing jungkook either. 

  it wasn’t too bad of timing either, since the competition was mid-event and most individuals were preoccupied with that. you wouldn’t have approached him in public otherwise. 

  junmyeon seemed to understand what was going on and he only offered a small smile. “well, let me know. we’re stuck here all day, anyway,” he chuckled.

  you thanked him and excused yourself, following nayoung’s direction to discreetly make your way over to jungkook’s tent. 

  other than him, a few members of bts lingered around the tent, presumably warming up for their event later on in the day. well, that’s what you thought they were doing before, as they were now looking towards you and jungkook, probably witnessing the same interaction as your boyfriend. jungkook’s arms were folded across his chest when you approached and you were already not in the mood.

  “meet me in that hall,” you said as quickly and loudly as you could, not wanting an audience. 

  you turned around without waiting for an answer and jungkook waited several beats before trailing behind, just in case. the two of you found yourselves in the tunnel leading into the main stadium area, which was thankfully empty. 

  you were surprised that jungkook’s fuse was triggered, as you two just shared a nice dinner date the night before with no issues. however, the more you thought about it, his jealousy issues were rising recently - from one wrong stare at a party by a monsta x member the other night to being asked out by a music producer that worked with s.irens.  each interaction was met with rage.

  “are you alright?” you questioned, once you were out of earshot and eyesight from anyone.

  “were they being weird to you?” jungkook instantly replied, jaw clenched.

  you furrowed your eyebrows. “what? no,” you said. “they were just being friendly - “

  “you should stay away from exo, i wouldn’t trust a lot of those guys.”

  “isn’t taehyung friends with some of them?” you dryly shot back, but he ignored your sentiment and continued ranting about how male idols weren’t to be trusted.

  obviously, you and him both knew what he was actually annoyed about. you stood your ground, as you knew you didn’t do anything wrong. it was a harmless interaction and you didn’t expect the entire idol community to know that you and jungkook were dating - well, actually, you kind of did and it was a little bit weird to get the invite in such a flirtatious way, but you were not going to take part. it was shut down immediately, but here you were. 

  after another minute of jungkook going on about the interaction, you interrupted him by abruptly placing a kiss on his cheek. he froze.

  “stop it. i’m fine. he was just being nice,” you sighed, looking around to make sure nobody was hiding in the shadows. “now, can we go back to our jobs, jungkook?”

  though your boyfriend was normally quite relentless about these things, your words did snap him back to the reality in which you were putting your very careers at risk to even have this hushed conversations in the shadows. isac was all fun and games, but you were on the clock with cameras in every corner possible. your slight touch of affection seemed to also help, as jungkook visibly eased when you kissed him on the cheek.

  he adjusted his sweatshirt and sighed. “alright. i’m sorry.”

  and that was the end of that conversation, but another faded memory lost in the chaos of 2017.

  TOP HEADLINE TODAY: the 2017 bts live trilogy episode III (final chapter): the wings tour to commence next weekㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤfebruary 2017

  the bland eggshell walls of the bighit entertainment headquarters didn’t faze you. at the very beginning, it was unsettling just how hollow the corridors and nooks appeared to be, as if the surroundings belonged in a prison. you’d been in and out of the hallways over the past years, albeit often for very few reasons that were pleasant. though it was a huge maze, you memorized the path on floor seventeen.

  upon hearing the loud ding and the metal doors sliding open with ease, you stepped onto the said floor with nothing less than pure anger bubbling in your veins. you clearly made your way up here — through traffic and past the security at the front desk who always mistook you for a crazed fan — with a purpose. you weren’t going to rest until you gave jeon jungkook a piece of your mind. releasing a long sigh, the employees who took a glance up and saw the infuriated expression on your face didn’t even bother stopping you. this had become routine.

  the distinct voices of his group members, combined with one of the group’s tracks amplified through speakers and footsteps squeaking on the hardwood floors in immaculate unison, were enough to tell you that he was here.

  “jeon jungkook.”

  the chorus to ‘spring day’ came to a sudden halt. hoseok was the first person to take notice of you and stopped dancing when you appeared at the doorway. the others noticed fast and when jungkook finally looked up, someone had already stopped the music.

  the look shared by his group mates seemed to read that they knew exactly what he was in trouble for. the prompt end of the music seemed to indicate so. a scared expression flashed on jungkook’s face upon reading your own stone-cold one.

  last time this happened was when you found a pack of cigarettes in one of your boyfriend’s jackets, after he swore up and down to you that he was quitting nicotine. another time was because of him forgetting that you had a date that night. today, the rage running through your veins was due to something new.

  jungkook visibly winced every time you said his full name aloud and here, he nearly shuddered at the sound. his head hung low, like a puppy. he knew what he did wrong this time.

  “i’ll be right back,” you heard him mutter to namjoon who could only nod empathetically, arms folded across his chest as he observed the scene.

  for jungkook’s sake, the group broke out into forced conversation to distract from the two of you. seokjin pretended to ask hoseok for help with the choreography and taehyung wanted to suddenly show the rest of the group a video on his phone. meanwhile, the youngest of the group wordlessly followed you out into the hallway.

  “where were you last night?”

  the question was immediate, not even waiting for jungkook to shut the door behind him. he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

  jungkook asked, “did you really have to come all the way here to have this conversation with me?” exasperation laced his words like a bow, but you were unfazed.

  “well, clearly i don’t know when and where you’re busy,” you shot back, “so i had no choice but to come here.”

  he opened his mouth to speak again, but you cut him off by raising your phone to eye-level. on the screen was the private instagram of cha eunwoo, who posted several slides of content of cheonsa lounge in gangnam. the very first picture was him and jungkook, clutching a shot glass of dark liquor in one hand and a vape in another. upon scanning the screen, where you proceeded to move through the instagram post - one picture of jungkook posing with eunwoo and the bottle girls from the club and the next being jungkook holding a bottle of champagne - silence filled the air.

  jungkook’s shoulders drop in defeat. “i’m sorry, it was a last minute thing - “

  “how last minute?! i called you at ten last night, asking if we could have a movie night in,” you cut him off, “and you said you were feeling sick! you don’t look so sick in these photos, huh?”

  “i was feeling sick, i swear!” he exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “the boys called me an hour after that and guilt-tripped me into coming - “

  “oh, please.”

  jungkook huffed. “i’m telling the truth!””

  if you were being honest with yourself, it wasn’t a far-fetched idea that jungkook’s boys did, in fact, drag him out to the club the night before. regardless of that, you were more upset with the fact that he declined you, but said yes to his friends. 

  “is a night in with me too boring for you now?” you questioned, jaw clenched. “if you were going out, you could have at least asked me to come!”

  “you don’t have to come out every time with me, y/n, i need time with my friends,” he replied and sighed once more. 

  this made you even more mad. “when did i say you can’t have time with your friends?!” you didn’t like the fact that jungkook was making you out to be such a control freak.

  jungkook groaned. “i didn’t say that!”

  nothing had been the same since the bora bora trip earlier that year. sure, you and jungkook fought like any other couple, but it was never this bad and this frequent. it was as if the fight in the hotel was the first domino to a cascade of falls. coupled with your increasingly exhausting schedules and other factors affecting your relationship, such as your career-driven mindset that was prioritized over everything and bts’ rise to international fame, it was only natural that you and jungkook would only drift farther apart.

  yet, neither of you were ready to walk away. as you and jungkook continued your back and forth for several more minutes to come in the darkened hallway of bighit entertainment, you could hear the opening notes to spring day once more - his fellow members presumably giving up on waiting for him to return before resuming practice.

  i miss you, was the opening line to spring day and it physically hurt your heart to listen to, as jungkook stood just a few feet away from you and still seemed so far away. the two of you gave each other the silent treatment for the next week after.

  TOP HEADLINE TODAY: s.irens fans grow restless as the group's comeback is pushed once again, allegedly to accomodate main dancer go nayoung's filming schedule for mbc's 'far away' dramaㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   september 2017

  for once, you and jungkook were not getting hazy heads amidst the lights of a nightclub or a packed party, but a charity ball. held at the spacious estate of a member of the family behind hyundai, it was a sight to behold and made jungkook forget that he was in the middle of seoul. he found himself in the back gardens, underneath a marble gazebo that overlooked the lush flowers and twinkling lights of the area. they shone like stars, string lights that hung all around the gardens, and jungkook wished he could share this sight with you.

  things were fuzzy with you, but jungkook held out hope that you would be able to pick up the pieces and fix things soon. after a string of fights the past few months, you had finally reached your wits’ end. it was an imploding, inevitable time bomb that was going to set off sooner rather than later. you and jungkook were beginning to butt heads more than not and one random thursday night, it was d-day.

  there weren’t too many places in the city that would be safe for even just a normal stroll with your boyfriend, which was an unfortunate truth that jungkook had to swallow for years on end. more than anything in the world, he wanted to flaunt you to the whole world to show everyone just how lucky he was. he was so in love with you and that was never going to change.

  from the moment he met you, he was smitten with your beauty and the nail in the coffin was your addicting personality that he was so naturally in sync with. to have someone so incredibly bewitching as his best friend, all jungkook ever wanted to do was scream to the world that you were his girlfriend. 

  instead, your date nights since the turn of your early twenties consisted of outings like secluded nature walks, friends’ homes, long drives, and if you were careful, the corner store at night. maybe that was why jungkook loved enjoying the seoul nightlife with you - it was a safe space where you could be with each other and with each other, the most important thing other than pounding music and letting alcohol wash away your worries.

  your last date was no different, as jungkook suggested to take a walk along the han river. you had no qualms about the suggestion - though, evaluating the place as a date wasn’t the catalyst to your agreement. you knew that there was a conversation to be had and you could have done in anywhere at that point. it’d been over two weeks since you last saw each other, as missed opportunities sipped from your fingers to sit jungkook down and have a talk about your relationship with him.

  jungkook saw you from a mile away - it was hard not to when you were literally wearing one of his hoodies. even though it’d felt like forever since the dna promotions began taking over his life and you were off filming a drama, he could always spot you in a crowded room in just seconds. you were waiting by the water, looking off into the seoul night skyline. a black baseball cap hid most of your face and you were smoking a cigarette - a habit that you eventually picked up from jungkook, despite initially chewing him out for the unhealthy habit. you eventually decided that you were also too overworked to not have a vice.

  on the other hand, jungkook had been cold turkey for a whole month. he’d grown disappointed of himself for giving in so often on ruining his health, especially as a singer. a frown tugged at his lips when he approached you, just as you were finishing up.

  your eyes always brightened when you saw jungkook, but tonight, you saw something in his own that prevented it. offering a small smile, you walked closer up without a hint of a light in your eyes.

  “hi kookie,” you whispered and pulled him into a tight embrace. jungkook always loved your scent - a strong cinnamon and vanilla smell that warmed his heart, even on breezy autumn nights like this one.

  his face was in your hair, holding you just as tight, when he realized something. something odd.

  jungkook stepped half a foot apart when the hug concluded, examining your features. “there’s something wrong, isn’t there?” he asked, as the anxiety came to settle in after you chose to hug him instead of kiss kim.

  your lips pressed into a thin line and he knew. you insisted that you two hold hands during this walk, which he wanted to refuse, but eventually decided to remain quiet about it. hands clasped, you two began to stroll south of the river.

  for a bit, you and jungkook bantered about how you stole his hoodie without him even realizing it. then, an uncomfortable silenced emerged, as you both could only listen to the light stream of the han and the passing cars nearby. 

  it was jungkook that said something first.

  you let him speak freely because on any other day, it would be a battle marked by avoidance and stonewalling. jungkook had suddenly come to a stop in the middle of the path, after the silence became too grand for him. he reached his limit, too.

  “we should take a break.”

things had been getting weird for a while now between the two of you. you were always fighting and when you weren't fighting, it was when jungkook was overseas, away on the wings tour.

  that’s when your heart began racing. “a break? you want to separate?” 

  “we obviously can’t be together. this isn’t working out. we clash too much and we’re always screaming at each other and we’re risking our jobs and - fuck, i’m sorry.”

  the rant was cut short when jungkook, after pacing back and forth as he spiralled with each word, paused in his tracks at the sight of tears streaming abundantly down your cheeks. he stopped and immediately felt the ball of anxiety at the bottom of his stomach transfigure into a heavy dread accentuated by guilt, weighing heavy on the inside. his chest began hurting and apologies fell from his lips, as he took you right back into his arms.

  “i love you, i know it’s been hard, but we can’t break up,” you hiccuped in between each short breath, barely audible when your crying face was pressed up against jungkook’s chest. “do-do you really feel that way?”

  jungkook rapidly shook his head, not even taking time to think about it. “no, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry!” he cooed, rocking you back and forth.

  after a moment of just crying from the two of you, you were finally able to catch your breath and rubbed jungkook’s back, hoping it would help him catch his. his breathing eventually slowed back to normal.

  “but, i think you’re right. . .” your voice suddenly emerged, barely above a whisper. “i don’t want to lose you. . .but we need space.”

  “i’d do anything to save this relationship,” jungkook replied and the statement brought you an unknown feeling, spreading across your mind. “whatever you think is best. i can’t lose my best friend - let’s take some time and come back stronger.”

  and that was the agreement. it had been just about a month since it happened and there was no progress since. your and jungkook’s schedules were busier than ever and it was only a coincidence that you both ended up at the same charity ball.

  for the first time in a long time, seeing you felt like remnants of a far away memory - shattered glass pieces of your relationship dancing in the air that, if jungkook tried hard enough, could be grasped at and remembered. your hair was now blonde and made longer with extensions, brushing just above your tailbone. you wore a periwinkle evening dress, soft satin mirroring the chandeliers on the high ceilings and fanned out into a flattering mermaid tail shape. jungkook hadn’t seen you with such makeup before, as you wore a cherry red lip and a sharp cateye. you looked different. . .good, but different.

  jungkook saw you in the foyer, mingling with some chaebols and looking bored. jungkook noticed that you came with sooah, presumably to represent s.irens or your company as a whole, but neither of you so much as looked at each other. jungkook grew worried that you were slowly isolating yourself from your friends. he was also worried that your bored eyes were instead tired eyes from such a hectic schedule.

  there wasn’t any way that jungkook was going to get your attention in that moment, so he instead carried on with his night as normal. he greeted friends, looked for opportunities to network, and helped himself to the fine wine. after an hour, he wandered outside to get some fresh air. then, he looked out at the beauty of the gardens and thought of you, as he strolled down the cobblestone path with a glass of red in one hand.

  he wasn’t sure how long he’d been pondering for under the gazebo, until he saw the time of his watch and realized that it was probably time for dinner to be served. jungkook sighed, stepping out of the gazebo to make his way back inside the manor, sneaking one more look at the calming moon and hoping to run into you at the party. 

  jungkook’s wishes were met sooner than expected, as he spotted you by a tucked away corner, smiling from ear to ear. he was taken aback to see the source of your giggling, being some guy he knew from the korean national football team. one of their best players, actually, as jungkook was quite a fan. he was one of the most popular athletes in the country, it was no surprise that he’d be brushing elbows with other a-listers at this charity ball. jungkook hand clenched into a fist, watching the two of you flirt away from everyone else.

  throughout your years together, jungkook was always a bit of a possessive type. in the way you were far from perfect, he also understood his own flaws. i mean there was quite a lot, like anyone else - he was also bad at communicating his feelings, often shutting down, and cared a lot about appearances.  

  none of that mattered in this moment, as he began walking straight toward you.

  in your defense, you genuinely believed that space meant that you were single. had you been the one to make a fuss about breaking up? yes, but. . .well, there was no but. it’d been years since you were able to prance around without the worries of a relationship and although you wanted jungkook back, it was admittedly freeing. 

  bae sejoon was the striker on the men’s national team and had been eying you since you walked into the estate. the two of you previously crossed paths at a lounge in gangnam a few months ago and now seeing that jungkook was not presently attached to your hip, he made the first move. it was hard to ignore - his coy smirk and athletic build that exuded masculinity. however, your only intentions were to simply ravel in the attention sejoon was willing to give to you.

  as soon as you arrived to the event, sooah already left to go greet some of her model friends in the main dining room. she didn’t ask you to join - you’d been drifting apart since the beginning of the year and moving out of the dorns. meanwhile, you planned to politely mingle with other guests, given that you were technically here because of work - despite wanting nothing more but to lay low and keep to yourself. 

  “well, maybe we should go together. can’t believe you’ve never been to the best cafe in all of seoul.��

  instead, you were batting your eyelashes at sejoon, who’d been going on about some french-style cafe that just opened up in the city. you didn’t think he was a particularly interesting guy, but he was cute. a cute distraction. 

  you said, “that sounds fun.”

  except, sejoon didn’t know that you stopped drinking coffee two years ago. he didn’t know that you found little coffee shops pretentious and too hipster-y for your liking. you forced a smile. 

  jungkook always got you pastries straight from one particular bakery. he remembered your matcha order word for word. he made fun of coffee shops that tried too hard to be different with you. he. . . . he was now right in front of you?

  you made it known to jungkook that you loved seeing him in all black. as the first kiss of autumn dawned upon seoul, he donned a long sleeve dress shirt and slacks. tailored and in the consistent shade of all black, the sight lit a fire in your stomach and you found yourself in a haze of how good he looked. 

  jungkook never hid how attracted he was to you, even after all these years of being together. he scanned your appearance from head to toe, licking his lips. it was as if there wasn’t a whole third person in your presence, as explicit images ran through both of your minds. it’d been so long since you saw each other and the tension in the air was like molasses. 

  “hi y/n,” jungkook greeted, not even looking sejoon’s way, until the other male cleared his throat. “am i interrupting something?” the glare jungkook sent sejoon was sharper than a blade.

  sejoon rolled his eyes, already realizing his defeat. “yes, actually,” he replied. 

  your eyes remained trained on jungkook until that moment, where you had to physically shake it off. 

  “jungkook, you know sejoon,” you began reluctantly, noticing jungkook’s hard planted feet.

  he only grunted in response, still not caring enough to say anything to sejoon and acknowledge him. 

  at this point, sejoon was over it. he looked at you and then at jungkook’s menacing figure, arms crossed and glare still fixed. it was as if you watched him calculating his odds during this conversation and decided there was no winning.

  sejoon turned to you, a crease in between his eyebrows. “nice chatting with you,” he said and solemnly walked away.

  you would have otherwise rolled your eyes at such a dramatic reaction if it weren’t for jungkook standing in front of you. everything about him was so mesmerizing, as the time away truly made the heart grow fonder. the smirk pressed against his lips showed that jungkook knew exactly what kind of effect he still had on you.

  “i’ve missed you,” were the words that fell out of your mouth, almost instantly, and you wanted to kick yourself. how pathetic.

  jungkook eyed you. “didn’t look like it just now,” he tried to be casual, but the sharpness in his voice was loud.

  “still as jealous as ever, huh?”

  your initial tactic was to play hard to get - even if you and jungkook had been together for years, it’d been so long since you could just flirt and tease him. it was a spark that’d been missing for quite some time now. a smile played mischievously on your lips.

  truthfully, this was what jungkook needed. he was initially despondent upon your agreement to give each other space, sulking for several days until work got too busy to be dwelling on emotions. the time away and seeing you look at another man sparked something in him, too. his lids grew heavy.

  he said, “so, this is what space means for you, huh?”

  jungkook sounded as angry as he was hungry. it set him off, as his gaze lowered further and further down your body. on any day he would be ticked off, but his feelings of frustrations today instead felt warm and inviting. you froze when he stepped closer towards you, close enough that you could simply speak in secrets. 

  “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” was all that could come out of your mouth in a heavy breath, too mesmerized to make any further attempts at wit.

  he was now just about nose to nose with you, but you couldn’t muster up the strength to meet his eyes.

  “you’re nervous.”

  “no, i’m not,” you said, edge in your voice.

  lying right through your teeth wasn’t the best strategy when jungkook could see past it like glass. you were happy to flirt and dish it out, but being so close to jungkook so suddenly left you at a loss for words. you forgot where you were for a second and when you realized that the two of you were in public, your heart began beating like a butterfly’s wings. despite this, he was bold. he didn’t move an inch, willing to risk it all. 

  jungkook let out a low chuckle. “you won’t look me in the eye. you’re nervous, baby.”

  “what do you want, jungkook?” you asked slowly.

  his gaze trailed back to where sejoon walked off to. “what was all that about?” he said.

  the answer was glaringly obvious to you, as jungkook innocently brushed a hair from your eyes and you resisted the urge to shudder at his touch. nothing in the world compared to this feeling.

  “honestly?” you began, as identical smirks began to form on both of your faces. “nothing. nothing at all.”

  that was all that needed to be said. jungkook, without tearing his eyes away from you, wordlessly took his phone out of his pocket and made a call. he licked his lips as he spoke and everything else in the world faded to grey. jungkook was a cascade of the colours of the rainbow, illuminating brighter and brighter like the sun until you were blinded from seeing anything else. he was a kaleidoscope that shone in front of you and you were emerging from a place with no light.

  it took you a few moments to realize that jungkook was calling his driver. however, as far as he was concerned, the night wasn’t over - it was just getting started.

  jungkook finally stepped away and you somehow felt so cold. “i’m going to leave out of the west wing doors. my car is there. leave out the east wing doors and walk around to meet me.” his directions were precise and somehow not commanding. tone soft and a gentle hand on the small of your back, it was the worst feeling of all.

  familiarity. comfort. home.

  all you could do was nod, your chest growing louder with excitement. both of your synergies were one and you both knew what idea came to mind. not much else needed to be said and there wasn’t a single part of you that could say no. his knowing smile was haunting.

  after parting ways in opposite directions - as if a conversation didn’t even occur -  you eventually ended up in the back of a limousine with jungkook.

  time moved oddly in between those two moments, as the only thing you could think of was jungkook. it was an addiction no different than chips across a roulette layout or a cup of espresso at the same time everyday. 

  thankfully, the driver’s partition was already up when jungkook opened the door for you, because he immediately captured your lips before you could even sit down. like second nature, your fingers found themselves in the crown of his hair and his hand held your neck like a trophy. you both stumbled, now sat - at least he was. you were already straddling his lap. he tasted like red wine and you could have indulged for forever. 

  “mph, that’s what i fucking thought,” he mumbled against your lips and you took his as an opportunity to slide your tongue into his mouth.

  his hands began hiking your previously eloquent gown up, enough that he could grip your thighs from underneath. your own hands found the buttons of his shirt, as the limousine began to speed off in what were probably going to be circles until jungkook told the driver to stop. 

  being in love was a vicious cycle that proved to be endless. this pattern would only continue from here on out. no matter how deep your passions for each other ran and no matter how addicting each others’ touches were, it only grew worse from here. more fights than lasted weeks to only be swept under the rug with a fuck and make up or a bottle of whiskey shared between you both. growing issues that were overlooked because that was your best friend. 

  your heart was no longer in it - it was trapped. all you could do was forget and forgive. all jungkook could do was beg and shower you with love. the night at the charity ball was one of many roots that eventually grew into deep seated resentment.

LATEST HEADLINE TODAY: hotel azure: what is this up and coming spot for idols in south korea and why is it so special?ㅤㅤ

[animeyanderelover]

can i request gojo with a darling who can touch him even when his infinity is on? (I think it's canon that he can never turn it off completely so that would be his first time actually having physical contact with someone)

Huge thanks to everyone who helped me with this request by explaining how exactly Gojo’s abilities work! I’ll start watching the second season as soon as all episodes are out for anyone who is wondering. I added a bit of stuff to make for an more interesting read.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, clinginess, obsession, touchiness, manipulation, gaslighting, paranoia, isolation, abduction

The first touch

🩵Gojo has been having his eyes on you even before he knew about your very special abilities. That basically means that you have this white-haired menace terrorising your daily life whenever he can. You almost have the impression that he can sniff you out among the many million people in Tokyo as he always finds you somehow. You're honestly just so fed up with him but are terribly introverted and feel too scared and awkward to explain to him clearly how you feel about his constant intrusion. You doubt that it would get through his head anyways so you silently endure the man's clingy, whiny and increasingly affectionate antics. Satoru knows no personal boundaries when it comes to you or rather he just decides to ignore it. You're just too cute~ Your unwillingness to stand up for yourself leads to ruthless abuse from his side.

🩵He has had it coming one way or another as he senses your growing frustration with his unbelievable clinginess and disrespect of your privacy. Worst is that he's at this point provoking you because he wants to see what you look like when you snap. So when your string of patience finally snaps as you feel his hands rubbing your shoulders and fawning over your current anger, you've had enough. You swing your heavy handbag at him in a moment of short and impulsive anger. Satoru doesn't move from his spot as he doesn't worry. His Infinity is activated so the handbag won't hit him. It'll easily just be seen as you missing your target, which is right now his handsome face. He sees your handbag moving closer to his face and just gives a small grin... At least until the fucking thing smashes against his face with full force, heavy with all of your stuff inside.

🩵Everyone who would know him, would probably laugh at him if they would see him in that moment. The almighty Satoru, stumbling back in shock before tripping over his own feet and landing onto the ground. That would have never happened if he would have been around anyone else. But he isn't around anyone. He's with you. Sweet, weak and lovable non-sorcerer you. Around you he never has his guard up unless he senses danger. Not because he underestimates you, although he definitely does, but because he feels like he can just be himself around you. That's why he's so thoroughly unprepared for this. For a moment he just sits on the ground in bewilderment, his face pulsing with pain from the impact it just had with your handbag. You start frantically apologizing as soon as you realize what you've done, flip a bit out when blood seeps out of his nose. You quickly rummage through your handbag as you search for something to stop the bleeding.

🩵Gojo on the other hand, who slowly starts coming back to reality after this major shock, touches his face in a daze. When he pulls his hand back, his fingertips are covered in blood, in his own blood. He looks at the red liquid like it is something he has never seen before in his life, as if it's something alien-like, before he jumps abruptly up. You flinch and shrink when he bents down to your height, brilliant blue eyes seemingly trying to look deep into your soul as he asks you quietly how you just did that. His voice is slightly strained with emotions you can't fully detect. You do see some of them swirling around in his eyes. Curiosity, shock, surprise but also something else. Something you haven't sensed in the silly and clingy man before. It unsettles you deeply. You don't even know what he just meant with his question just now and Satoru seems to realize that too as he pulls back, allowing you to breathe again.

🩵He leaves you a while after that incident and even if he tries to keep his normal facade up, you sense that something has startled him. If only you'd know. Satoru's mind is occupied with this accident the whole day. How were you able to do that? You're a non-sorcerer by all accounts and he didn't sense any cursed energy from you nor from anywhere around you. You were honestly expecting him to not show his face so soon again yet instead he rings at your apartment in the early morning hours. You're majorly confused and frightened by the fact that he seems to know where you live as you have never told him that yet Gojo pushes past you like he's been here a hundred times before. His eyes briefly fly through your current home, noting that it is quite small if you'd live with him, you could have everything you would want before he asks you the most ridiculous question you've heard all week. "Can you slap me?"

🩵You look at the man as if he has suffered from brain damage due to your handbag yesterday. How does one even respond to such a request?! Weirdest of all is that he looks at you with genuinely curious eyes. Can you slap him? Can you touch him with your own hands and everything you hold in your hands even if his Infinity is on? You hesitate a tad bit too long before he decides to provoke you a bit to anger you enough to do as he just asked you. It works as it is early morning, you've just found out that he knows where you lived and you're also still quite tired. You're in no condition to endure his teasing as he reminds you of embarrassing accidents he's had the joy of witnessing. The next thing he knows, he feels the impact of your hand against his cheek with more strength than he assumed. Maybe he underestimated your strength just a tiny, tiiiiny bit. Nevertheless though, as he rubs his stinging cheek his eyes are glued to you as a realization comes to him that changes his life. You, a non-sorcerer, somehow have the ability to seemingly nullify his Infinity... How?

🩵It must be the biggest irony of the universe. His darling is metaphorically and literally his one and only biggest weakness. A tiny part of him really has to chuckle about this but for the most part, Gojo suddenly grows by leaps and bounds more paranoid. He is the strongest in the sorcerer world and he couldn't even count on both hands how many people constantly pray for his downfall but can only do that as he is literally untouchable. With his situation he would already be under normal circumstances be overprotective and slightly paranoid that someone would instead resort to making you a target and use you against Gojo. He has to protect weak you for that reason against all the evil in this world. Yet with the knowledge that you can touch and by extension of that also harm him, a new fear inside of him grows. What if his enemies would decide to set you up against him to have you kill him? Or worse, what if you yourself would decide to rebel against him and would try to harm him?

🩵If you wouldn't have this special talent, he wouldn't be worried. Because then you simply wouldn't be able to harm him although your betrayal would still badly sting due to the lingering scars of Geto's betrayal. Yet with the added aspect that you can actually hurt him, Gojo's paranoia worsens. The image of you being his downfall, the only person he genuinely loves and trusts in this world, breaks him somehow. It isn't likely considering that he is far above you in all physical aspects and still has other abilites, not to mention that you would never sink that low, yet the fact that it is the tiniest possibility is enough to drive him a bit mad. You'd never do that, right? You love and care too much to ever think about killing him or even slightly harming him, right?

🩵You don't know where those sudden insecurities and his paranoia come from, you never imagined the Satoru you knew for a while to be so fragile underneath all his confidence and silliness. You wish that he could revert back to that side of him, even if it was possibly only a facade. Because now Satoru is downright suffocating and scares you even. You can't do anything to escape his tight grasp though and even if he doesn't hold you, you're still stuck in your new home. In his own huge mansion, installed with a security system that would never allow you to step outside unless he's with you. You will never leave his side, he won't let you. No one is allowed to find out about you and your one of a kind abilities. It is the bittersweetest irony ever. The warm touches of yours he so yearns for are the only ones who could also kill him.

[basilbots]

Bro if you think New Moon, before the Nexus arc where they were doing everything in their power to write him off as evil because they knew he was going to be killed off and replaced, was a worse brother than Old Moon or even anywhere close you are just straight up incorrect sorry.

First off very serious, stop downplaying Old Moon's abuse, you may not be meaning to but you are, you cannot be obtuse about why NM jokingly threatening Sun like normal siblings do all the time is okay but OM threatening the same thing when he would actually physically abuse Sun isn't okay. There is an obvious difference there and it's gross to say otherwise. Secondly more silly I am bapping you like an annoyed cat NM was around for a year and I guarantee you he was not played with Nexus in mind for the majority of it they were not in fact dropping hints that he would be evil this whole time. This is not to say New Moon was perfect, he wasn't, but literally none of the characters are. If you picked at every mistake or ruder comment a character made then they're all secretly evil and toxic (which some people actually believe looks at the Solar is evil theories). But I think it's insulting to go to people upset that their fav character was butchered and say "um actually New Moon was NEVER good" because you're biased against Nexus and want to rewrite what New Moon was actually like. Which is something that the show doesn't even support btw. Earth recently talked about how sweet New Moon was, Sun during the turning point of NM's grief arc turning into the Nexus arc admitted that New Moon up until that point was a better brother than Moon, the bulk of Nexus' horrible actions were not of him being a toxic brother it's him being an EX-brother turned villain. Which for reference is like how the og Eclipse was a toxic brother to Lunar but you would not say he was a toxic brother to Sun and Moon because the role and circumstances around how he hurt them were very different. New Moon was a very good brother that the story left turned into trying very hard to justify getting rid of so we could have our current story (Old Moon as our Moon, Dark Sun successfully having Sun kill a Moon, the dimensional discrepancy, etc).

[maveras-posts]

Being Arts ✨Significant Other✨

The Poll showed an overwhelming support for Art Headcanons so come get your juice ya simps. I never see much on our boi so…LETS CHANGE THAT—

The lovely Tags: @michaelmyers-isdaddy @slasherholic @slasherfxcker @arttheclown-coveredinblood @slasherhaven @strange-and-unappealing @uhh-hi03 @kber2424 @local-caffeine @dem0nic-symph0ny-19 @midnightwritersblock

🤡Art the Clown Relationship Headcanons🖤:

FIRST— ATTITUDE 🙄🤌

Art is Pan and honestly could give two F’s about how you look

You intrigued him in some way

Most likely loved his act or giggled at him…

He is a slut for a strong willed person

At the end of the day he gets his way but breaking down a hard headed person gets him ✨OFF✨ (He is not afraid of the Goth Baddies)

Very protective and possessive (Smothering energy)

Won’t admit it but he needs reassurance you love him and won’t leave him

I mean if you tired he would mostly have you and anyone he blames ✨ReMovEd✨

Art mostly loves to make you laugh, even without speaking🤡

This man is mostly, if not ALWAYS in your personal space

What’s yours is ✨MINES✨

Touch is his major love language

Art is also one to pick someone smaller than him (Lil shit loves it because it makes him “useful”)

For the love of all HUMANITY—WATCH.HIM.AROUND.ANYTHING FLAMMABLE. Trust me…

Also don’t let him around duct tape he makes really cool stuff don’t get me wrong but he abuses the power of the tape😭

He shares all of his trash bag candy with you (YOU GOTTA BE VERY SPECIAL)

You will also be put before him or anyone else

GIFTS are also a must, cheap or expensive he’ll get it for you ✨BorrOWED✨ if ykyk

When he misses you sometimes he honks his horn😭

He’s gonna hurt or k!ll ANYONE who even inconveniences you, he is like oh so they cut you off let me cut them off (ART MY GOD NO—)

Contrary to belief he is actually very gentle with you, you’re like glass to him (He’s not this way with anything or anyone)

In the rankings he is definitely one of the top slashers to be s/o YES he can be toxic but once he loves you (in a sick way) he is not gonna leave your side and will try to make you happy😭✋

Hey Yall I hope you’re all well! I have begun my headcanons for our clown of the hour ART. As always suggestions and requests are open! I’m thinking of getting more into the smutty and NSFW Headcanons for the slashers, input would be most appreciated for this as always thanks for reading and I’ll spook ya later!

-Mavera

[golden1u5t]

honeymoon | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: angst + fluff + smut(more so the beginning)

ꨄ summary: sex has always been a bad subject growing up, it was shunned upon to give into your bodies desires without being married or wanting kids. the abuse that came with this topic has caused you to hide away from it, you've never told spencer but when you do, he makes sure to make you as comfortable as he can.

spencer stopped in his tracks as he noticed you standing in the middle of the room with your head turned away from him, he let go of his shirt so that it dropped back down over his body. when he reached out and touched your arm you jumped, looking back at him with wide eyes.

"sweetheart? are you alright?" he asked, wrapping his hand around your wrist and guiding you to sit on the bed. you leaned onto his shoulder and sighed, intertwining your fingers with his.

"it's our honeymoon- people have sex on their honeymoon!" you sat up and looked down at the ring on your finger, not yet used to the feeling of it weighing on your finger yet but you knew that you would eventually get used to it just like you would get used to the new last name.

"sex isn't a requirement to have a honeymoon, its just something people do to feel good and connect with their partners. there are some people in the world that are completely uninterested in sex. don't feel obligated, honey."

spencer honestly wouldn't mind if you didn't ever want to have sex, he went majority of his life without it, he was just grateful you're in his life and he's able to call you his wife. he wants you for the rest of his life, with or without the sex.

"no, that's not it." you huffed, sitting up from his shoulder and averting your gaze to the big window in the hotel room you were both staying at. your room was a suite, a wedding gift from rossi, so you could see over the busy city below.

"do you remember when i told you that i grew up in a very toxic household?" spencer nodded his head, you let out a small laugh because he remembers everything, it was a question you didn't even have to ask. "well, sex was a very touchy subject. i was always told that women were just to have children, that we couldn't do it unless we were married and ready for kids. but i'm not- i don't want any children right now and i don't want you to think badly about me because of it."

you brought a hand up to try and stop the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. it was no use though, the second spencer reached up and cupped your face with gentle hands, the floodgates opened. he didn't try to force you to look at him, he knew that you would when you were ready, you were putting yourself in a vulnerable position.

"i would never think any less of you because of that. you know that, angel." spencer's voice was soft, as if he was talking to a scared child. he ran his thumb over the skin under your eye, wiping away those salty tears that escaped.

you leaned into him and buried your head into his chest, hands grasping at his shirt. spencer's hand fell onto your back and started to rub soothing circles while you caught your breathe and calmed down.

while he held you like that you started to imagine how he would hold you in bed, how his hands would gently caress your skin, how he would make you feel safe and comfortable with him. you knew he would do all those things for you, you knew he would do anything you wanted. all you had to do was ask him and he would move in a heartbeat to make sure you got it, no matter what it was.

though, you were still having a lot of doubts and you needed to gain more confidence in yourself before you were willing to shed layers of coverage from your body, bring your guard down and let him into the last blocked off part of you.

so, for now you laid there in his arms, listening to the busy streets of the city and feeling his heartbeat against your cheek. spencer dropped his head down and rested his head on top of yours, his hand moving up your back and running his fingers through your hair.

everything in that moment was perfect, it was like when he wrapped his arms around you he somehow made a bubble of security. that's when you decided you wanted him, you wanted to bring those walls down and share yourself with him because you knew he would take care of you, he would be gentle with you.

"i want to try it." you spoke, though your voice was muffled from the way you were pressed against his chest. spencer let out a hum of confusion, pulling back and looking down at you. so you sat up and repeated yourself.

"are you sure? this is something you need to make sure you really want." his eyes scanned your face for any sign that would contradict your words but he couldn't find any.

"i'm sure, spence." you place your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, leaning forward and placing your lips on his. spencer let go of your hand and placed them on your waist instead.

spencer pulled away from your lips and instructed you to get higher on the bed. as soon as you laid back on the bed, he was crawling on top of you. you quickly discarded your shirt and started to push your pants down but spencer caught your wrist in his hands.

"patience, angel. i'll get there."

[extremely-judgemental]

Subtext is completely lost in this fandom. I partly blame SJM for it. This is a rant from both reading and writing standpoint and leans towards the characters since I like to psychoanalyse them.

The one thing that tired me the most in these books is the excessive narration. I don’t mean the wordy description to support world-building but the never-ending monologues. SJM takes ‘show, don’t tell’ advice literally with the visual cues when it should apply to the characters and their personalities as well. Where subtext usually exposes depth of these characters and lets you decide who they are, SJM strips away that chance by writing it down for you word by word. The reason so many are going with 'in the book' argument is exactly this.

Here’s what I mean.

In real life, people don’t think linearly. They have an idea about themselves as much as they have about everyone else around them. There are self-imposed restrictions on their thoughts based on who they believe to be and who they strive to be. And it shows in their interaction with outside world. Say, when someone is ashamed of their actions, they will deny it for as long as possible. Someone who regrets something, they will sugarcoat it.

But in her books, her characters think clearly—way too clearly so that you latch onto the ideas she perpetuates. You don’t get to know them based on their thoughts, words, and actions, and see how these three support each other. You don't get a chance to draw conclusions as to if they are the hero/villain and good/evil based on their actions. If their behaviours match their words or if their choices are acceptable. Because SJM sets it in words for you. The characters come with a label beforehand. (Feyre, Rhysand and Inner Circle are good guys. Tamlin, Eris and Nesta, sometimes Lucien are evil.) It's why so many toxic and abusive themes are dismissed because it’s the 'good guy' or the 'morally grey guy’ who does it.

And so, her lead or ‘good’ characters fall flat since they have everything figured out. They know themselves inside out. They are never wrong about themselves, there’s no part they hide from themselves or the others. There’s nothing for you to read and identify the beauty or ugliness in the character. There’s no depth in them because they don’t contradict themselves, they don’t struggle to be someone they always believed to be. They don’t have to prove anything to themselves or others. They say what they think and they do what they say. They are very aware of their shortcomings and they all seem to know the exact consequences of their decisions.

Feyre doesn’t change in the three books. Her ‘rags to riches’ story doesn’t lead to much character growth. She starts out as an adamant, reckless child and ends up being arrogant, reckless woman with a crown. She doesn’t undergo a shift in personality but climbs up the social hierarchy. And that’s considered character development. Rhysand remains the same throughout. He starts out as a villain but later revealed as a good guy playing bad. Instead of growing into a hero—given his crimes, his ill deeds are negated with sympathetic backstory. And from there, it’s a flat line. There’s no growth.

In the end how does the character change in the aftermath of the events? Which of their beliefs are shattered and rebuilt? What is the emotional impact on the other characters? SJM does offer some closure on these regards but they are solely focused on a list of traumas and specific reactions set by SJM herself. And so readers refuse to think for themselves how these scenarios may play out and take the words relayed through the unreliable narrators who are essentially preaching SJM’s biases. Also, when they are so explicitly written down, there’s not much room for subtext. After going through pages and pages of justification, it tires you from using reason.

Even if we get past this (writing) flaw, there are other major issues. Story telling is a way of experiencing life. It helps build empathy, compassion and understanding of the world. Even in a fantasy book, when that world doesn’t exist, when the characters aren’t real, their journey are drawn from real life experiences. Relating to these characters is subjective and solely depends on the reader, but determining the rightness of their actions is not. This too is warped as SJM dictates which behaviour is acceptable and how far through her lead characters(Feyre vs Nesta imprisonment). Instead of allowing you to judge the choices, the verdict is spoon-fed through the ‘hero’. If the characters are forgiven, it’s not abuse. It’s a simple mistake. (It’s a mistake if it happens once and if there’s a changed behaviour after the apology.) If the characters are happy in the end, their acts are admissible. Unless SJM stamps the word ‘abuser’ and ‘bad guy’ in block letters herself(Tamlin), it's not even considered a possibility.

In short, in this fandom, ‘reading between the lines’ is acceptable as long as it supports what the author preaches. When it contradicts ‘it’s in the books’. Logic is valid only if you use it to justify the fan favourites and applaud them. Empathy is conditional. Compassion is conditional. Critical thinking is so discouraged that it’s pitiful.

[libraford]

This is somewhat on the hush, but I'm researching gay conversion therapy for a very important activism THING happening in my city and boy has it been... revealing?

So like... I was never in one of the programs, but I am definitely seeing that its more common and covert than the extreme cases portrayed in films and I'm starting to wonder if one of my childhood friends was in one. Because I was outed pretty young and they were sent off somewhere and prevented from talking to me for awhile. And when they came back it was... umm... it was different? Like it was just... it was strange. I could be mistaken, though.

I'm also seeing some parallels between the abuses of conversion therapy and the abuses of toxic workplaces and I find it really interesting how easy it is for me to relate to the cycle of hypervigilance ("Oh yeah this place is great, wouldn't change it for the world"), questioning your own experiences ("Wait, did that really happen the way I remember it or am I overreacting or making it up?"), and then the sobering period ("holy shit, I was abused for three years and I just sat there and took it.") Because fairly consistently in the case studies, there's a honeymoon period when they 'graduate' the program and have only fond memories, which takes some time to properly integrate into the actual reality. That and the undermining of the sense of self, brainwashing, etc.

But that's a parallel to discuss some other time.

I am looking for some more material to make my case for a conversion therapy ban, but I have to focus on two things:

I have to focus on minors because when we get into adults in conversion therapy it gets a little hairy on the concept of informed consent.

I need to prove that it is relevant to our city because I think that the majority of the board think that it can't or doesn't happen here. So I think it might be good to know some of the more covert ways that these programs operate.

I have quite a bit for a good, solid case- but I have to have enough for at least three meetings. I'm looking for testimonials, academic papers on what it looks like in practice (I think the abuse aspects of it are well known enough- like they understand that its BAD, but I don't think they understand that its COMMON), and some insight into how someone FINDS a program like this (I've noticed they typically don't advertise themselves as conversion therapy programs, so what kinds of dogwhistles and code words might they be using.)

This is my first foray into proper politics and I want to make sure I go in strong. I believe we can do this!

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Chapter 18

Story Masterlist

Arranged marriage AU

Interact with THIS LINKED POST to be added to the tag list. 

NOTE: Only reason Reader is torn about her current thoughts is because she’s scared to mess up the story more. Also doesn’t want Dion to become more clingy lol. Also a bit confused on how to properly write Grizelda. Hopefully she’s not too out of character.

Warnings: HEAVY themes of non-consensual sexual interactions, self-blaming, victim blaming once or twice by Fontaine, implied past attempted sexual assault, implied hypertheoretical physical abuse, self-harm (biting thumb), accidental self-harm (biting lip hard enough to draw blood), slight blood, thoughts of murder, thoughts of having Fontaine killed, near panic attack(s), Lant brings up the birthcontrol, a very awkward conversation about the Reader’s parents, implied toxic familial relationships, toxic relationship/marriage, obsessive and possessive themes, general yandere themes, mention of considered kidnapping, themes/mentions of imprisonment, mention of considered drugging, abuse of power (Dion towards certain employees. Personally, I do think he would do this), mention of physical abuse, mention of injuries (broken bones), mention of starvation, certain employees being put in danger, threats of violence (Fontaine to the Reader), slight themes of infidelity (no one cheats, just a quick thought that quickly goes by). Please tell me if I missed any.

Please tell me if I missed any.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY DANGEROUS AND TOXIC.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS (BLOGS THAT DO NOT HAVE ANY CONTENT)/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT WITH OR REBLOG ANYTHING FANDOM RELATED (FICS, ART, ETC.) DNI.

= = =

Grizelda Agriche. 

A sorceress who played a major role in the coup to overthrow Lant and destroy the Agriche family. The young girl had drawn a magic circle for her younger sister, hidden by Roxana’s poison butterflies before the trap went off.

A memory of someone being killed in front of her was shown along with her reminiscing about what she had to do to survive. Clear delight was shown in her smile at the commotion, clearly ecstatic about the outcome - about Lant’s downfall.

But that was in the manhwa, the story overall - how will everything unfold now? Or will nothing happen?

Your appearance was an anomaly in itself. You already changed the story against your will.

… did I… fuck up everything?

Your thoughts are interrupted by her calm voice.

“You look like a mess.” Her voice isn’t as soft as Roxana’s. It suits her. “Did Dion do this?”

Her accusation has you shaking your head ‘no.’ For as much as you detest and fear that heathen, aside from fleeting touches that scream touch starved and has you reeling back in disgust or unbridled fear, he never raised a hand against you. 

Some might tell you that it should comfort you, that your oh so lovely husband doesn’t raise a hand against you. But really, that was the bare minimum of being a decent person. You’re not about to praise him for the bare minimum. 

It was already hard enough to function around him, nevermind seeing the ‘good’ in him. Just thinking about him has freezing needles piercing your flesh, already feeling the cuffs on your hands and ankles. You shiver, gulping. 

Your throat is tight and dry. 

“I see. Well, that’s good. I doubt you would survive long with him had he done so.” Curiosity filled eyes rake over your entire form - you feel naked and vulnerable.

Instead of asking if you’re okay, she stands and goes back to her desk. Distracted by her unexpected appearance, you look around the room, momentarily forgetting Fontaine. 

Papers on the walls with magic circles and scribbled data, stacked books around the room, a window that shows the swaying trees and blue sky, a desk covered in magical items. Glass test tubes filled with mysterious liquids, but no bed in sight. This must be her study.

Great, you think. You interrupted her work - she’ll surely find you a nuance. There’s a sharp sting on your tongue as your teeth dig into something mushy.

Were you really at fault for this? You didn’t choose to run into the eldest Agriche child. You didn’t give him the wrong idea, you didn’t ask for anything, and yet his disgusting hands touched you, his brother’s wife, an unwilling woman -

…no. If you hadn’t left the bedroom and just tolerated Dion, you wouldn’t be here. Your chest feels heavy with self-disappointment, kicking yourself for leaving Dion’s room. However, your sullen figure jitters to life once panic starts to kick in, remembering why you barged into the room.  

He’ll be here soon. She’ll kick me out. Your thoughts run about as you lick your dry lips. 

You try to stand.

You wrestle with yourself to not scream when you move your left foot to get up, completely forgetting the blasted thing was sprained. It burns, it feels like a molten knife is twisting in it.

You. You did this to yourself. Had you just tolerated Dion, endured those ghastly touches that are softer than what they should be but still as repulsive. Endured the unwanted attention, his detestable affection, let his cold and calloused fingers link with yours just for a moment -  

Your ears perk at the sound of drawers opening and closing, your sister-in-law rummaging through them. While wondering what she’s looking for, you inspect the injured and swelling body part. Biting your lip to muffle any sounds, wincing as you carefully slide your heel off, unable to hold back a sigh of relief once it’s off.

You freeze as the sound of heavy footsteps stop outside the door. 

RATTLE, RATTLE 

Someone tries to open the door across the hallway. It’s extremely loud that just by hearing it vibrations are sent throughout your body. There’s a muffled curse and you stop breathing when you recognize it - recognize him.

Fontaine. 

More footsteps but this time they stop directly in front of Grizelda’s door. Holding your breath as he tries the knob, you pray to a God that has clearly abandoned you. 

RATTLE, RATTLE, RATTLE, RATTLE

It’s more violent, the knob threatening to break and fall off. You hold back a whimper, shaking pathetically. You should have stayed in Dion’s room. Should have tolerated the man, go out to the terrace and lock it so he couldn’t go near you once you let him have his fun.

You could have avoided this. Avoided the ugly and more perverted brother. A potential rapist, a bigger threat to your safety and sanity if he were to ever get his hands on you. You start to lightly pant, clenching at your chest, vivid images of a fate worse than death flashing in your head. 

The taste of iron. The smell of blood. It’s vivid, you can already feel his hands on your neck before they travel lower and lower, rougher than your husband, consent forgotten, thrown away. Dion - he wouldn’t do this, would he?

He… wouldn’t… right?

When Fontaine speaks through the door, something cold rushes in strings through your body. It’s painful, everything is. 

“Fucking hell - which room are you in, you bitch!? I know you didn’t make any turns - a door wouldn’t have slammed shut otherwise. If you come on out right now, maybe I’ll be -”

An arm grabs yours, pulling you up harshly. Your bottom lip starts to bleed as skin is broken, your teeth digging into it as you hold back a scream. Quietly, Grizelda opens the closet you managed to miss, and closes the doors without a sound. You stand there, jolting when she comes back, handing your disregarded heel over to you.

Her actions confuse you but you don’t have time to mull over it as she shushes you with a finger held against her lips. You can’t stop shaking.

She closes the doors again once you nod your head. It’s completely empty save for a cloak or two, and you hold your breath as the brunette fakes a realistic and convincing groggy voice.

“...Huh? Who the hell? I can’t even take a nap in peace.” Footsteps echo in the room followed by the door opening. “Hm? Fontaine?” No fear is laced in her faked discombobulated tone. 

It sounds perfect. Which leads to the question - how often has she done this?

Why would she do this?

There’s a pause before her older brother replies, “Grizelda. What are you doing here?” You imagine him trying to peek his head in to catch a glimpse of you. A strong sense of dread and terror crawls down your spine at it.

It feels like insects are crawling all over your body, their stick-like legs digging into the flesh. Your nails dig into the heel in your hands.

“It’s my study,” she answers like it’s obvious. Your heartbeat almost drowns out their conversation. What are they doing? What if she’s secretly leading him into the room, pointing at your hiding place?

“Your study? Ah, right. Never mind that - have you seen a certain rabbit hop by? She decided to repay my generosity with violence like the whore she is.” His voice drips with heavy resentment and venom, filling your head with images of what he could and would do once he gets his hands on you.

She answers immediately. “A rabbit? I haven't seen one lately. Wait, who are you referring to?”

He pauses before giving a vague answer. “A girl around your age. Out of breath and crying like a baby.”

Fontaine sounds like a school boy trying to sound cool or to avoid punishment. If you weren’t on the verge of collapsing, you would have laughed at the absurdity. The audacity this mistake has after he tried to force himself on you. 

But fear overtakes any anger you might have felt. You’re barely able to breathe in this closed off space. It’s about to become your coffin.

“Around my age? It’s not one of our siblings… is it a maid?”

“She’s a recent addition.”

Could he be any more obvious?

Your inner dialogue does little to distract you from the scorching pain, almost crying out and bumping your head against the wood, accidentally putting too much pressure on your left foot. As gently and quietly as you can, you lean on your right side, praying that no noise is made. It hurts.

You quietly chuckle to and at yourself, the sound of a whisper.

You’re nothing more than a pathetic dog.

“Wait, surely you’re not talking about our new in-law, Dion’s wife. Do you know what harsh punishments father has instored for anyone who lays a hand on her that isn’t himself or Dion?”

“It’s not like I’m going to kill her. I just want to teach that wrench a lesson in manners.” Fontaine growls out like a dog. But the leash his father placed on him is tight as she continues to question him, frustration clear but held, an obvious need and want to avoid punishment. 

It seems that your brother-in-law does have some survival instincts, despite how big his head is.

“No-one, aside from Dion, has permission to give her any ‘lessons.’ I’m not sure what happened, but if she really did wrong you, then you should report it to Dion personally.” 

Both you and Fontaine pause, halting your breathing as the suggestion soaks into both of your brains.

Dion… what would he do?

 A droplet of sweat rolls down your temple as you give it more thought. In the Manhwa, after Fontaine was beaten and chained in the dungeon, the former favorite son was going to pluck out his brother’s eyes before killing him. Even though it was only a beautiful digital drawn panel, the image of Dion bending iron bars and a shadow over his glowing crimson eyes, pure hatred in them was enough to almost make you pity Fontaine.

Would… would he react that way if you told him…? No, rather, do you want him to? 

You must be going mad, for a small part of you is planning on it. No - you’re looking forward to it.

Your head feels weird at the thought. But your heart beats erratically at it. It’s… tempting. For once, you feel yourself wanting to seek your husband out. 

However, one thing stops you.

Your teeth dig into your thumb. You are by no means a saint, nor do you want to be one. But… What if he asks more of you? What if by just telling him, you end up giving the impression you want him? 

No. Yes. You should, you shouldn’t. He’s your husband, it’s his obligation, but it’s Dion -

“Do you honestly think Dion cares enough to listen? He only married her under father’s orders. Besides, he didn’t even look at her during the wedding and he left right after the consummation.” Arrogantly pointing those things out, you can only imagine the annoyed expression he’s certainly making. 

The closet is starting to feel stuffy the longer they talk. Your ankle brings a different type of pain when you accidently curl your toes, hissing through your teeth as you almost bite through the bone of your thumb. Shaky and heavy breaths that you attempt to steady, staying quiet, hot tears rolling down your cheeks. 

Your nerves are on fire. It feels like sharp needles are digging in and stabbing at your ankle, your thumb bleeding as the taste of iron imprints itself in your mouth. Snot clogs your nose and you hold back a sob.

Why are you so weak?

Their muffled voices make your ears perk.  

“Then tell father, if you’re so sure of that. Either or.” Your sister-in-law tells her older brother  like it’s law. Ah, how silly of you. Of course it was.

“Father… I don’t want to bother him with such trivial things.” There’s a nervous tilt at the end of his sentence. “He has better things to do than punish that bitch.”

“‘Bitch’? I see that you’re rather daring today. Regardless, laying your hands on her would only get you punished once father finds out.”

“If he finds out.”

“No. He will. He always does.” She tells him so factually that it’s funny. You know that it’s not completely true - after all, the coup happened and was successful. 

But that was only in the story… 

Your skin feels damp, goosebumps forming on every exposed part. Saliva soothes the indents on your thumb - you’ll need to treat this later. Your tongue swirls around the digit, uncaring if any blood drips on and stains your dress.

It doesn’t cross your mind that once Dion sees you, he’ll demand an explanation. 

“Right. When you do see that rabbit, tell me.” She doesn’t respond and you hear the door close not too soon afterwards. Then, you hear a ‘click.’

You wait with baited breath as footsteps make their way towards your hiding stop. The thudding of your heart overrides everything else. The footsteps sounded like heels and were light. But you’re still paranoid that it’s Fontaine and-

Creeaakk

Your body jolts and eyes squint as the closet doors open, light invading the darkness that once eloped you. Blinking rapidly, you watch as Grizelda eyes you, her gaze landing on your poor, abused thumb. Her expression is blank - no mockery nor sympathy is evident on her face.

In a way, it’s almost comforting.

“You’re a mess,” she says as she takes it upon herself to help you out. “Come on, we’ll get you cleaned up…” little do you know that an image of a pissed Dion flashes in her head, suppressing the violent shudder. Despite not seeing the married couple interact, her gut screams that maybe, just maybe you’re someone who shouldn’t be touched.

Like a docile lamb, you do as she says, sitting in the chair as she searches through the drawers for first aid she usually kept. Only to find none.

Great, she thinks, just great.

Of course she wouldn’t have any on the day she needs them. She takes a quick glance at you - she wouldn’t be in this predicament if you didn’t stumble across her study -

Wait. Her eyes widened before returning to normal at the realization. 

She never got a sample of your blood… no wonder why it didn’t work. She considers taking one from your wound. But then she takes another look at you - red and puffy eyes, a bleeding lip, your right thumb bitten into like a piece of meat. Your clothes are all wrinkled and hair out of place.

You look so tired, so terrified.

Like a captured rabbit.

Something stirs inside her. How odd, how concerning.

With a sigh, she decides against it, standing to full height and goes to the closet, standing in front of it.

You don’t mean anything to her and she doubts she has a place in your heart. She doesn’t have to be nice to you. She didn’t have to help you. 

Nimble fingers takes one of the cloaks out, and she heads back to her desk. She places it on the sturdy surface, and takes some scissors out from a drawer. Her actions halt the more she thinks about it. Hadn’t she done enough by hiding you?

Your maid could treat your injuries. 

But, to fight back against an Agriche despite the risks…

You’re a fool for that. And yet -

The scissors glide through the fabric, ignoring the cautious looks you throw her way. Regardless, her body feels hotter the longer you stare. Once she’s done, she tries her best not to sigh - you’re nothing but an injured and terrified rabbit. She closes her eyes.

She’s only doing this because you’re new and she’s curious. She’s only doing this to hear stories of how things are beyond the walls of Agriche.

She’s only doing this because you sparked a speck of interest in her.

When her eyes open, she turns to face you. 

“Unfortunately, I currently don’t have any first aid on me.” The only reason you give her your thumb is due to the determination in her eyes - stubbornness vs weakness. When she sighs you do your best to not react, well aware you were walking on thin ice. Probably.

Well, considering you kind of… broke into her study, you probably are.

Then, you realize it - you were able to open the door and not Fontaine. But how? Why?

Regardless, that fact only adds to your apprehension. Especially when she deeply inspects your dumb, head tilting to the side as she considers something. You become a statue, watching her every moment, from the way she eyes your injury to how her fingers play with the fabric in her free hand. Her eyes flicker to yours. 

“You bite on it often, don’t you? There’s still fresh-ish bite marks on it. You should stop that before it becomes infected - unless, of course, you want to lose it.” You can’t tell if she’s scolding you or not, a tiny amount of amusement in her eyes while there’s also a firmness in both the soft red hues and her lips. 

She continues before you can even think of answering.

“Aside from that, I’ll do you another favor - I’ll use my magic to heal your ankle.” She says, so matter of fact, that you’re left dumbfounded as she starts to clean your thumb to the best of her abilities before wrapping it up. Your hand jerks and it takes effort to not pull away.

Her touch is gentle, but you regain your mind as she kneels, seemingly forgetting that she is not a servant but a noble. 

You regain your voice. 

“U-um, thank you for the o-offer, but I just need some ice-”

“Do you want Dion to find out?”

That shuts you up. Your eyes cloud over with something she can’t decipher. Your mind is tearing itself apart as you consider it. It’s hard not to.

… It’s not like Fontaine would be an innocent victim. Plus, if he’s killed right now… wait, but that nightmare might actually lock me up if he finds out I was injured and targeted. To ‘protect’ me if he does want to keep me ‘safe.’

Not to mention… the story… that stupid story!

Your head falls into your hands. The dull ache in your chest overrides the physical pain.

“I… I don’t know.” Indecisive, you take a breath, forcing out any self-pity for the moment. Just focus on your sister-in-law. You can think about everything later. For now, you suppose, you should take her offer. Walking on it would be hell otherwise. 

Grizelda doesn’t say anything. Lifting your foot up makes you hiss through your teeth. Your face stays buried in your hands, hatred for yourself deepening. You want to rely on a man who’ll happily keep you prisoner if it means you won’t run. 

While also considering keeping a man who would rape you alive. You shouldn’t. Maybe you should tell Dion - Fontaine deserves it. But what his death would ruin your faith entirely?

Your lungs beg to scream.   

- - -

She drew a magic circle on your foot. It took several minutes, covering your mouth with your palms to muffle the cries of pain with each touch. The brunette was patient aside from the huffs of annoyance here and there. Regardless, she did pause and give you a few moments to recover.

Even so, you endured it, if only to hurry the process. 

“Ugh…” tears form in your eyes as hot pain shoots from your foot to up your leg. It feels like hot, melting needles are being stabbed into every nerve, every tendon. Your fingers dig into the edge of the seat as your head rolls back, thumping against the headrest. 

Deep and shallow breaths as you calm your nerves, teeth nearly tearing your bottom lip apart.

 It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, IT HURTS, IT HURTS, 

IT HURTS -

“Endure for a bit longer.” Something warm and string-like flows from her fingertips and into your bloodstream. Jolting at the new sensation, you lie to yourself and say it’s soothing and not uncomfortable. That it doesn’t feel like something is being tied and untied within you.

“Haah… p-please don’t - guh!” A painful groan cuts you off. You feel both cold and hot, skin drenched in cold sweat as your clothes make you feel stuffy. Hot.

“Hm? Don’t what?” Your sister-in-law halfheartedly asks, barely listening. 

“D-don’t… tell him. Please .”

He might go off the rails if anyone else tells him… no, it’ll be worse than that. 

Grizelda glances at you before returning her attention to her work, promising she’ll stay quiet. After all, it’s not her problem. Besides, bloodshed between kin is forbidden unless ordered. While her father would punish his eldest son, he wouldn’t order his death.

In his eyes, he is still useful. 

Getting rid of him now would only hinder everything.

She looks at you again. 

A scared little rabbit, an unwilling bride, a captive, a victim, a play thing - every word that describes you flashes in her head. In everyone’s eyes, that’s all you are, really - prey. Of course, most will stay far away from you, not willing to take the chance to anger the favorite son. 

Not willing to take the chance to anger Lant.

But there are fools who want to take a bite. 

And fools who pity you.

The more she looks at you, the more she realizes that you are not a person in Black Agriche. You’re a chest piece in Lant’s game. She doesn’t know what the prize is.

Her eyes return to your injury. With every second, the more she questions your purpose. You have nothing to offer. Your family, while a noble one, doesn’t have a high reputation like others. No hidden skills, no illegal activities that could have caught his eye. 

But, then she questions if this was orchestrated by Dion. She shakes her head. You didn’t even know each other prior to the engagement. Unless…

She shudders. She should stop thinking about it. 

“I pity you. You lost your individuality the moment you kissed him.” For whatever reason, she decided to voice her thoughts. It wasn’t to torment you. 

She waits for your reaction.

You don’t say anything, at first. Like you were trying to find the right words to say. She sees the way your lips are pursed, fingers digging deeper into the chair. With an exhale, you finally reply.

“I… I know.”

By the time you responded, she was done, slipping your heel back on.

- - -

The trip back to Dion’s room was painfully slow for the sorceress. While she understood you were paranoid to return by yourself, it was also interfering with her work. She should have called a maid. 

However, she decided to take this opportunity to ask how the outside world was - first, about your family where you gave extremely vague answers. And then, some things you would do outside of your family’s estate. Had she had more experience with the outside world she would have found your mundane answers boring, but it was interesting to see what a ‘normal’ person was like.

She should learn before you go mad. 

“I see. So your parent’s marriage was also arranged.” Your fingers slightly dig into your palms as you nod your head. “Did they ever fall in love?” Curiosity mixed with something else, she wonders if you will with Dion - not that she expects it, but it’s not completely impossible. 

Probably. 

“I’m…,” you blink as you try to answer only to reply, “I’m not sure. They’re not very affectionate with each other, but they are loyal and respectful towards each other. I guess there was an obligation to produce an heir…” you awkwardly finish off.

Grizelda questions what you meant by that, finding your troubled and embarrassed expression kind of cute. It’s refreshing.

“Um… they didn’t… stop until my brother was born. As you know, I have an older sister, then there’s me, and finally, the only boy who is the youngest. Considering there hasn’t been a third nor any talk of one, I’m guessing they’re… d-done.”

The brunette has a hard time keeping her laugh at bay. Obviously your reaction towards it is different from her own. Two different environments and ‘morals.’ 

“I see. If you don’t mind me asking, how are your siblings? As you probably know, my own and I aren’t…” 

Unfortunately the barrage of questions is interrupted once she catches sight of slicked back black hair. Blood colored eyes land on your figures as the older man walks across from you, and he stops to ‘greet you.’

You both bow as a sign of ‘respect.’

“Oh? Now there’s an unexpected sight - Grizelda and the daughter-in-law taking a walk.” Lant comments as you raise your heads. There’s no smirk but the hint of sinister curiosity puts you on edge.

Yeah. you shouldn’t have left the bedroom after all.

For if you didn’t, images of your death wouldn’t be drowning you until you could barely breathe. Your lungs squeeze painfully as his eyes look past you, gauging if he should use you today.

A gross sensation travels from your toes to your head, fearful that he might -

“I take it that Dion told you about the contraceptives?” He looks serious, no hint of sinister playfulness on his face. From the corner of your eye you see your sister-in-law giving you a puzzled look until ‘realization’ hits her, making her give you a ‘knowing’ one.

… she has the wrong idea…

You’re not sure if you should correct her once Lant leaves.

“O-oh, yes, of course, father-in-law.”

He nods his head in approval. “Good. It might be for a good while.” And just like that, he leaves, not sparing you nor his daughter another glance. Weight is lifted off your shoulders once he’s out of sight.

If only he would stay out of mind. 

“Hm. Leave it to father to plan out his son’s future,” she almost snickers. You swear that hidden resentment is laced in it, but push it out of mind.

“... yes.” 

Still, you’re shaken by the unexpected encounter, suppressing a tremble, left hand grabbing your right arm to ground yourself. You swallow to moisten your mouth. You can’t keep doing this. You can’t.

“W-well, going back to our con-conversation,” changing the subject for your own mental well-being, you decide to humor her some more. “We’re close. Or, were, at least.” 

“‘Were’?”

“There were some complications during the engagement… but that’s to be expected. Probably. But I plan on writing to my brother later today - oh!” 

You have an epiphany, clapping your hands together once. While it’s true, or at least you assume so, that Grizelda isn’t close with Jeremy, it might be better than nothing. After all, it’s an excuse to not go back to Dion -

Ah, but wait. Didn’t you want to go back to his room so you wouldn’t run into Fontaine again? Indecisive, you stop walking, thinking about your next move.

You should pick out a thank you gift for the boy… but Fontaine… not to mention you had also asked Hana… what to do, what to do…

While you’re stuck in your head, the brunette blinks, wondering what’s with the sudden change in behavior. 

- - -

He was too intense. Too forward. 

He should reel it back. Dion knows that he frightens you so easily. Like the fool he is, he thought that becoming and calling himself your dog would help take the edge off. Well, he was wrong, extremely so.

So wrong that he drove you away further, making the cracks of your marriage bigger, deeper. At this rate he may invertedly drive you away into the arms of another.

His eyes narrow at the thought. 

No. He’d kill the bastard before that could happen, and despite his fondness for you, he wouldn’t let you get off easy either. If you want to be with someone else so badly… he could give you their head. Or, depending on his mood, the intensity of your feelings for the second party, he could even kill them in front of you…

If you try to run he’ll just chain you up. He would never hurt you, no, but if the ring isn’t enough to tie you down, then he’ll do it quite literally. The rational part of him knows that you wouldn’t even dream of it. Be it out of fear or obligation as his wife, you wouldn’t.

But… What if you find a way to escape? Find someone else, someone better - 

No. 

His crimson eyes look out into the terrace as he sits in the chair, elbow propped onto the armrest, head supported by his hand, knuckles pressed against his cheek as his fingers curl. One leg is crossed over the other, his other arm resting on the opposite armrest, leaning back a bit. 

His finger taps against the plush material. 

It’s been half an hour since you left - half an hour too long. Did you go outside and take a walk? The sun is out, the weather is fine. Fresh air would probably help your nerves.

Unfortunately, he knows they’ll freeze over the moment you see him. 

It’s a silly dream he has, but it’s the only thing he truly looks forward to. Even if you fake it, he’ll be happy with any crumbs you’ll throw his way. However, he knows that he doesn’t deserve it, and a long time ago he would have seen no use in anything sweet and gentle. 

But then you came along. You with your soft touch, your pretty smile, eyes that reflected a rather sullen figure, sweetly asking for a favor that’s been forgotten. 

Your mistake was giving him a taste.

As the saying goes - give them an inch and they’ll take a mile.

He’s always been selfish and greedy. More so ever since you entered the picture. 

Hah. Just thinking about you brings forth warmth that was once nonexistent. It ignites the temptation to put you under lock and key. He’ll never tell you, but he did consider kidnapping you. It would have been so easy, a hand over your mouth, or a drug in your system.

He closes his eyes as he wills the thoughts away. Sure, had he done that, you wouldn’t be able to look at another, locked in his room with only him as company. You would have to either talk to him or play the quiet game, but really, how long would you last?

Humans were social creatures. They need company, bonds, no matter how shallow. 

You were no exception, talking to friends at balls and banquets. Laughing with them, accepting dances here and there, not minding the fact that a hand was on your waist. If anything, sometimes you would let the pests get too close, only shooing them off once you realize that their dirty paws were traveling lower and lower. 

He sighs through his nose softly. Thinking about such things won’t help in the long run. In spite of the way he wants to pluck out the eyes of anyone who looks at you, who you smile at, your husband tries to take a… ‘softer’ approach.

Throwing them in the dungeon for a week or two without food. Putting them in the least aggressive monster hutch, but the beasts are still hungry, so it was still dangerous. A broken bone or two during practice. 

Maybe ten.

A ‘small’ cut to their pay. A singular verbal threat before they turn physical. Humiliation. Ruin their reputation.

That was soft enough, wasn’t it?

“...” you really have been gone for longer than wanted - needed. 

Isn’t this what ‘love’ is; a man barking like a dog for his wife? Rolling over and showing their belly, toning down their antics the slightest bit. Listen to them, handing their spouse their leash, willing to do anything?

Bite those who come too close.

Dion’s scarlet hues open, looking at nothing in particular. His black hair shines in the light, pale skin crawling at the thought of someone happening to come across you. Shared laughter, a smile, sweet gestures, all things that he craves from you and you alone. 

Everything you refuse to give him.

You drive each other mad.

A foolish daydream that starts to dive into something darker. It’s here when Dion starts to remember just where the two of you live. Your in-laws, his family. The food chain that you’re almost at the bottom in, your status as his wife saving you from most. 

Most of his half-siblings and all of his stepmothers will avoid you just because of that, or they’ll sneer at you from a distance. 

However, there are some who won’t stay behind the line. Jeremy is an example - however, his intentions were never sinister towards you. Roxana was edging around the line, and he already knows she’s gauging on how close she should get to you, but she wouldn’t let harm come to you.

But then, there’s Fontaine.   

He’s out the door before he even knows what he’s doing.

- - -

“...Hey, Xana?”

“Hm?”

“Do you feel like something bad will happen today?”

“What do you mean?”

Jeremy shivers again, rubbing his arms. This chill just won’t go away. It’s annoying, he’s been unable to shake off this paranoia. It revolved around you, at first. So, the boy had decided to pay you a visit once he heard you returned to your room. 

You were fine, tired, but fine. Unfortunately, Dion decided to show up like the pest he is - sticking around. It’s as annoying as when he would bother Roxana in the past. Or just appear in front of her. 

However, he didn’t sense anything wrong. Discomfort, sure, but nothing dangerous. He left in the end, getting in one last glare at his older brother. The feeling went away, for a bit. 

But it spiked right back up not too long after. Stronger. And now, Dion and Fontaine keep popping up in his head, their ugly mugs haunting him. Jeremy looks at Roxana, her gaze glued to his figure. He smiles, shaking everything off.

Maybe he’s tired. 

“Oh well. It’s probably nothing, sis.”

= = =

Something big might happen.

This took way longer than I originally thought.

Tag list: @tiny-mimi @umi-adxhira @queenofspades403 @pix-stuff @manitscold @darkumbreon92 @s-ajia @disappointment-san @louissatturi @cjafjatkstke @luvercat @rainofcrime @danae-misfortune @rosedellamorte @rentaldarling @puggyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee @labryel

[angelicassassinations]

...

Why do lesbians always get some of the WORST representation of almost all the sexualities?

(

Like, the first lesbians I think of in media I've watched are Tenko Chabashira, from Danganronpa V3, Killing Harmony (Not canon confirmed, but heavily implied), Vaggie, from Hazbin Hotel, and Catra, from She-Ra, Princesses of Power. And all three of them, are really shitty representation.

Tenko is very sexist towards men, constantly calling them degenerate males, discriminating against them (calling them all perverted, evil, etc), and quite literally, abusive (verbally).

This is a very tired, and harmful lesbian stereotype, where a lesbian is 'only attracted to women because of her distaste towards men.' She's also just... Really damn gross towards the female cast, especially Himiko. Like, she's literally obsessed. Don't believe me? Play the game yourself, or watch a playthrough. Himiko is very obviously uncomfortable with Tenko goddamn stalking her, in the first chapter. It's also mildly infuriating how in the second chapter, Tenko repeatedly talks badly about Angie (Himiko's friend), saying she's (A) manipulating her (H), and all sorts of other stuff. And the Himiko growing to like Tenko thing just seems very clunky and forced. Like... I get that Tenko didn't live long, so there wasn't enough time for them to play it naturally, but it always came off as too soon for me? That's just my opinion though.

Vaggie is another harmful stereotype, for lesbians, and people in relationships in general. She's kind of similar to Tenko, in which she's extremely feisty towards men, and women. Just very aggressive in general (Which is also a harmful Hispanic stereotype, so.. triple threat/neg)

But.. that's basically it. I'm not saying that's the only thing wrong with her, I'm saying that's basically all of her character. She's a butch, warrior woman who's constantly angry and aggressive. She's, quite literally, NOTHING without her girlfriend, Charlie. She has no real likes, nor interests, her 'major plot twist' only affects her and Charlie, so it's not really impactful. She's just there to be Charlie's girlfriend, nothing else. Even during 'her song', it's just about fighting for what she loves, her girlfriend. Not fighting against the very people who betrayed her, who kill hundreds, of not millions of demons every day. Nope! Fight for your girlfriend! It's just aggravating.

Catra is literally abusive towards Adora. She made it her ENTIRE lifes purpose, just to get back at Adora. Now, excuse me for possibly being inaccurate, but I stopped watching SRPOP at around the beginning of season three. But Catra has (according to research);

Went out of her way to keep a cycle of abuse spinning around

Beaten Adora up (multiple times!?!?)

Murdered Adora's best friends mother

Trying to force Adora to meet her needs and expectations regardless of Adora’s owns

Similar to Vaggie, bases her ENTIRE existence on Adora.

And DO NOT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE FACT THAT THEY ARE DAMN SIBLINGS (Both consider Shadow Weaver their mother, were raised together, are literally called siblings in canon posts. Just because they aren't blood, doesn't mean they aren't family)

Not gonna mention Amity Blight (The Owl House). Just too tired rn

TLDR: Stop making all lesbian/WLW ships toxic. I beg of you

[archivedblog16]

I really hate how some Vivziepop stans are full-fledged adults shipping ValAngel and even worse, talking to minors and basically telling them ships like that are okay or fun to partake in. So of course minors are shipping ValAngel too, because they’re literally being groomed by adults in the fandom and being told its okay when its not.

Its me, I was one of these minors. And these people would give me attention and comment on my art saying Im such a good artist or that I was an amazing fan when I did shit they groomed me into. Luckily I had sense talked into me by my friends and left them but good god, some of these people are such Vivziepop dickriders that its scary. When I made a post saying I cant sympathize with Stolas and think he deserves what he got I was told I had a brain tumor by one of the very people who would comment on my art and they insisted that I was dropped as a baby.

Me personally if an adult ships ValAngel, I personally won’t care. Some people find comfort or relatability with it as they were in the same situation as Angel Dust. And this is the same fandom where majority or half the people here ship Stoliz but encouraging minors to ship ValAngel is super weird and dangerous.

I’m sorry you went through that, Anon and I’m glad your friends were able to pull you out of that situation. Yeah, some intense stans like using “you were dropped as a baby” as an insult or gotcha moment. I remember watching a 2 hour Hazbin Hotel video, criticizing the show and someone in the comments said that which is gross and unnecessary.

While I’m on the topic of ValAngel, I will admit even though I don’t personally ship them. I do find the concept and dynamic of ValAngel interesting and it’s one the few pairs that makes me ask many questions. Such as how did the two met, what does Angel Dust see in Valentino (I’m serious what does he see in Valentino, the show doesn’t do a good job making Valentino charming), etc.

My main problem with ValAngel in general is how sometimes the stans and by extension the voice actor downgrades it as just a toxic yaoi ship™️ when it’s so much worse than that aka a rape ship™️. “Valentino and Angel Dust have a complicated and toxic relationship that is explored in the show.”

No one is denying how abusive and dark it is. But what’s so complicated about a Master who not only beats and rapes his slave but also demands his undivided attention and loyalty too?

Did I miss a secret Valentino and Angel Dust’s backstory where they knew each in the human world like Mimzy and Alastor did? 😂