#but sometimes giving an explanation when I’m accused of something

[traumasurvivors]

It seems convenient that you’re suddenly autistic when you need it to back up a point

I’m not “suddenly” autistic. I’ve been diagnosed for years. And while I don’t talk about it a lot, I have mentioned it in the past on my BPD blog if you really need receipts that I didn’t just starting saying it to make a point.

I run a stim toy business and have for over two years and part of what we tell people about our business is that we are run by autistics and I’ve definitely shared that on my business blog multiple times.

[jj-one]

ೀ⋆ HOW COULD YOU BE SO RECKLESS WITH MY HEART ?!

[ . . . when they find out you were cheating on them ]

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: skz x fem!reader, established relationship genre/tags: smut, angst, crying, begging, punishments, spanking, oral (m & f receiving), choking, manhandling, heavy degradation, humiliation, cuckolding, recording/taking photos (?), voyeurism, piv, rough sex (lmk if i missed anything else!) words: 5.9k

[ note. ] heyyy, i’m back >:3 there’s no explanation for this other than i love angst and whenever i see cheating fics it’s never the reader cheating on them so i wanted to be messy and do this sjhgsjsk, i’m in no way endorsing this type of behavior— it’s for fictional purposes only !!

𖥔 ݁ ˖ Bang Chan

He didn’t know who he was more angry with, you or the son of a bitch who attempted even sliding in your DMs. The fact you accepted the prick’s message and entertained his flirtatious advances tipped him off the edge even further. It didn’t matter if you had zero intention on meeting up or not, it was the principle of it all, though it may not have been physical, emotional cheating still counts as cheating in his book. He felt beyond disrespected by what you did— had the roles been reversed and you found out he was texting other women in such a nature, there’d be hell to pay on his side within a heartbeat. He couldn’t focus much in the studio with a million thoughts burdening his mind, a sudden wave of insecurities come flooding in— was he simply not good enough for you? The realization of you talking to another guy made him feel sick to his stomach, he needed to address it with you before all this anxiety eats him to the core.

“Channie baby!” You rush towards him with open arms when he arrives back home, his black t-shirt felt slightly damp from the rain. “Did you walk home? You’re soaked! I can run you a warm bath an-”

“Nah, I’m good actually.” Chan quickly cuts you off, walking towards the kitchen. He didn’t bother to hug you back when you attempted to either, this was so unlike him which causes you to question his dodgy behavior in more detail.

“Long day at work huh?” You pry some more, doing anything you can to get him to say something.

“Yeah, guess you could say that.” He shrugs, still unbothered by your overall presence. That’s when you decide to come out with it and stop settling for his little mind games.

“Seriously, what’s up with you? Why is it whenever you have a problem you never want to talk it out? You’re always so reclusive and that’s what drives me away so much!” That last part didn’t mean to slip out but sometimes it’s good to hear harsh critique from your partner.

“Oh so that’s what it is? Me being gone for so long makes you wanna fuck around and go talking to other guys for fun? You’re not as sneaky as you think y/n, I know everything you do behind my back.” Chan was more than pissed at this point, he was livid, this was the highest level of betrayal you could achieve. There was no witty rebuttal you could come up with this time, only true remorse for your actions, it didn’t hit you until now that you he considers you as a cheater.

“Ch-channie, you know I w-wouldn’t do anything to hurt you… swear on my life! Just wanna make you happy.” You croak, being falsely accused of something you’re not was devastating— especially coming from him.

“You want to know what’ll make me happy then?” Chan’s voice gets lower, creeping his hands up around your neck. You look up in curiosity with big doe eyes, “W-what?”

“Get on your knees and let me use your face as my personal cum rag, then maybe, just maybe I’ll even consider giving you the satisfaction of my humble forgiveness. That’s only if I’m pleased with how well you take my cock in that whorish mouth of yours.” His merciless demands sent shivers through your body, but you comply to his order, willing to do anything he asks to mend your wrongdoings.

As your legs coil down to land on your knees, you come face to face with the outline of his cock through his gray sweatpants. You immediately went in to palm his erection but he angrily swats you away, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, always so eager to touch someone’s cock, so fucking dirty.. M’gonna teach you a little lesson on what happens to sluts like you, only thinking about dick, that’s all that lives in your mind huh?” He continues to taunt you, belittle you like you were nothing. In retrospect this was supposed to be a “punishment” however, you were enjoying every minute of it. His hand travels up to your chin, propping your face up slightly, grazing his fingers over your bottom lip— noticing a few tears well up in the corner of your eyes.

“Yeah, cry as much as you want honey, it’s not going to get you anywhere here. I’ll just use them as lube to make the pain less prominent for you while you take me further down your throat. You’re gonna wish you had never fucking tried some shit like that again sweetheart.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Lee Know

“Minho, please it’s not what you thi-”

“Oh cut the fucking sob story and save the crocodile tears y/n! I know what I fucking saw, I’m not going to let you gaslight me into this one again.” Minho spat harshly, looking at you as if you were scum beneath him.

You know you fucked up royally, you know this is probably the end of your relationship but at this point you had nothing left to lose; doing everything you could to salvage any bit of sympathy out of him.

“It was just a kiss, it didn’t mean anything I swear! Wooyoung came onto me first!” You weren’t helping your case much, the fact you were still blaming everyone but yourself was astounding to Minho.

“And where’s your accountability in all this huh? You really expect me to believe that he coerced you into making out with him and not a single thought about you having a boyfriend crossed your mind? Must’ve thought I was born yesterday or some shit.” Minho expresses with utter disgust, “did you enjoy kissing that fucking bastard? Was he better at it than me? How many other guys have you sucked face with while I was gone? I bet you there’s so many you can’t even count, can’t believe I wasted all my time with someone as shameless as you are.” His degrading words were more than deserving, you kissed one of his friends and now that he’s found out he’s going to make you pay in a less than permissive way.

Heavy streams of tears roll down your cheeks as you mewl out in pain mixed with ample pleasure, crying out to Minho as he leaves several brute spankings to your rear, leaving your body in a beautifully bruised red state. “Nnngh!” You’d whine as his hand produces another harsh smack to your ass, hips involuntarily jolting forward from the sudden unexpected impact.

“That’s number 23 so far, almost halfway to 50.” He snickered, kneading the overly sensitive flesh. “Better be lucky this is just my hand and not a belt.” After a while of toying with you, it didn’t take long for him to get bored of that idea. Instead, he shifts you on your back now— ordering you to spread your legs far out for him. His hot breath permeating chills down your body, as he inches closer to your face, his lips brushed against yours causing you to pucker but he pulls away.

“Tch, you really think I’m gonna kiss that filthy mouth of yours? You’re gonna have to wash it out with soap before I even think of doing some shit like that.”

More tears fall out as you bear his cruel words, though what you did was morally flawed, his unrelenting demeanor was enough to scare you out of ever thinking of wanting another man. You kept profusely apologizing over and over again, repeating the same lines like a broken record, it was highly pathetic of you; he even chuckled at your sad efforts to be forgiven.

“You keep on saying you’re sorry yet I don’t believe a single word you say.” He cocks his head to the side in amusement, “I just wonder if this was your plan to begin with, to get me all hot and bothered over you. Was this all worth it for you? Seeing me worked up like this? You truly are a sick, twisted individual.” You nervously gulp at his harsh tone, pondering the vicious grin that’s plastered on his face. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what’s soon to come.

“Want to act like a whore then you’ll get treated as such. I’m gonna relish in the fact that I have full control over you, I’m going to enjoy edging you until you can’t physically take it anymore. You can scream and shout to your hearts fullest content but I’ll drown out every bit of it, I’m going to give you pure hell all night.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Changbin

What you had with Changbin was toxic yet you couldn’t seem to escape his hold no matter how hard you tried. When he gets jealous he turns into an absolute menace when in bed with you, as if something otherworldly possessed him to act in such a way. Sex with him is great, almost too good to be true at times, but when he gets angry it’s filled with even more hasty passion— you can’t get enough of it. Your relationship over the course of 8 months have been nothing but turbulent, breaking up and getting back together constantly since you two butt heads a lot, he’s got a stubborn attitude and your smart mouth combined with that is a disaster waiting to spew. But when you’re both on a “break” you still can’t stay away from each other, even if you go around seeing other people you find yourself in Changbin’s bed every night, acting as if you weren’t just telling him to fuck off earlier.

“I heard from one of the guys you fucked Chan, if you’re gonna be a cheating skank at least don’t choose one of my friends.” He gripes, the judgmental glare he’s giving you left you with clear discomfort.

“What is to you if I did fuck him anyway? We’re not even together right now, you have no room to even be upset with me!” You spoke defensively, trying not to let him think his insults were getting to you.

He rolls his eyes in response, he wasn’t having any of it. If it was anyone else but Chan he probably wouldn’t have been as mad, but you went too far this time and now he’s going to show who has true ownership over you.

“You’re just never satisfied with having only guy in your life, always wanting more ‘cause you’re such a greedy little pup. This is why we don’t work out, you’re so easy to move on to the next guy who shows you any slightest bit of attention.” You shook your head at his statement but as his hands wrap the base of your neck, your body stills its movement.

Changbin snickers at your daring courage to challenge him, he ought to remind you that he is the only one you come home to at night, not all those other pieces of shit that just use you to bust a quick nut.

“I don’t like to fucking share what’s mine, you come here every single day to fuck and you still mess around with other guys? The fuck is wrong with you?” The bass in his voice grew deeper as he continued interrogating with questions, “Why would you need anyone else when I’m right here y/n? Are you really that much of a whore you need to get dick from my own goddamn friends? Just when I think you couldn’t go any lower, you pull this shitty stunt on me…”

Truth be told, you have no idea why you did it. Maybe he’s right, you secretly liked the adrenaline of the attention Chan gave you in that moment. You craved the same feeling from Changbin, except he was never emotionally available, he always seemed mentally drained by the relationship. This was the first time in months you’ve seen him act out of his usual nonchalant manner.

“I know you’re upset with me… but please be reasonable. We were— still are on a break, cut me some slack Bin, I’m sorry if I-”

“Fuck an apology. I don’t care enough to accept such bullshit from you anyway.” An apology meant nothing to him, the only thing he wanted was to make you writhe under his touch and wipe out all the memories of Chan from your brain. The strong grip he’s held against your neck tightens as he slams you into the wall behind, biting his lip at the sight of your disgruntled expression.

“Can Chan make you cum as hard with his fingers like I do? Can he make you a drooling mess while having you shaking and sobbing all over my cock? I bet he can’t give you the most mind blowing orgasms like my mouth does, he doesn’t understand your body like I do, no one ever will. I’m the only one that gets to touch you, please you, fuck you— you belong to me. Know your place and tread lightly darling, never forget that.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Hyunjin

It all started when he noticed you getting a little too close with Felix, the way you’d drag out a laugh even if what he said wasn’t that funny, to how you stare into his gaze for far too long while fluttering your eyelashes. Though your gestures were subtle, it didn’t take much for Felix to become a blushy and flustered mess from you being a natural flirt, he never knew how to react since Hyunjin, your boyfriend of almost 2 years, was standing right there. Oddly enough though, Hyunjin didn’t seem to mind it all, in fact it was doing the complete opposite, he was getting slowly turned on by the idea of you hitting on his friends in front of him.

Then the scenarios of you hooking up with Felix became more vivid, he’d think about it constantly throughout the day. It got so bad to a point where it was all he could think about when the three of you were together, he couldn’t shake off the idea anymore— he had to finally act upon it.

“I want you to have sex with Felix in front of me.” Hyunjin proposed randomly to you while watching a movie.

You almost choked on your popcorn as he said that, completely caught off guard by his unexpected statement.

“You want me to what?” You reiterate, still trying to process what he just said, this was seemingly random coming from him and he’s never shown any interest in this kind of topic before.

“Look, I know this is probably weird to you but I’ve been having these fantasies lately…” he slowly trails off but eventually continues, “I think about you cheating on me with Felix a lot, but I- I find it really hot for some reason.”

You couldn’t seem to wrap your head around what he was saying, none of it made sense to you but if this was something he’s expressing interest in then maybe it won’t be so bad to try it.

“So… let me get this straight, you want me to sleep with your best friend and you’re completely okay with it?”

Hyunjin nods in agreement, “pretty much yeah.”

The fact he barely hesitated made you even more uneasy, he must have been thinking about this for a while. Since the whole point of his fantasy was to feel like you were cheating on him, he wanted you make the first move on Felix, to gauge his reaction and test the waters first. By doing so, you’d amp up your flirtatious banter with him— making him even more of a flustered mess than he already is. Hyunjin seemed to be enjoying everything so far, watching you from across the table, acting as a simple bystander. Little did Felix know what was about to ensue a few hours later.

“Fuck yes! Just like that Lix, keep going- mmpfh!” You moan out in pleasure from Felix’s cock hitting all the right spots inside. Your legs wrapped around his waist, locking him in place as he plunged deeper into your walls. He’s not sure not how he got into this situation but the way your pussy clenches around his girth makes his brain short circuit for a second. Your juices continuously gush out onto him as he keeps up a steady pace, pounding into you like no tomorrow.

“God this cunt feels amazing…” he grunts, throwing his head back at the feeling of you swallowing him whole. He almost forgot that Hyunjin was sitting in the corner of the room, observing all of this in amusement. Hyunjin knew he was a total cuck for doing this, letting his own best friend have his way with you and not do a single thing about it, that was the fun in all of it though; he never realized how much he loved you cheating on him. His cock twitched from the sight of you getting fucked by another man, it left him with a sense of inferiority but in a turned on, masochist kind of way. Hyunjin couldn’t help but encourage it, he was probably getting the most gratification out of this.

“So fucking dirty… you like having someone else’s cock fill you up while I watch? Always knew you were such a naughty girl, nothing but a hole for anyone to stretch, you take Lixie so well too. You sure you’ve never cheated on me before in the past? You seem to be enjoying this a little too much.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Han Jisung

As if today couldn’t get any fucking worse, Han was infuriated when he found out you’ve been sexting other guys, he know it’s inherently wrong to be snooping through your phone while you’re not looking— but being the overly protective boyfriend he is he just can’t help it. When he saw all the messages of you talking to those guys the same exact way you talk to him privately, he felt his vision almost go black. He couldn’t wrap his conscience around the idea of the person he once thought was going to spend all of eternity with could stab in the back like this and betray him in such a vile way. It wasn’t easy for him to accept the truth of your cheating habits, Han was in complete denial himself.

He was more so disgusted with the fact those men thought they even stood a chance with you, there’s no way in hell he’d even let you anyone touch or come near you. Sadly, his entire world revolved around the sole purpose of keeping you happy, he’d rather die than have you out of his life. Even if that meant turning a blind eye and allowing you to continue with this unacceptable behavior. All he wanted was some simple answers, he just wants to understand why you’d do something like this in the first place.

“Just tell me where I’m going wrong babe, please. Tell me and I’ll fix it. We can work through this, just don’t leave me baby. You’re all I have, I can’t lose you too… please, I’m not ready to give up on us yet, I need you.” The glossiness of tears welling up in his eyes weighed tons on your morality, you should be the one who’s saying all of this— not the other way around. You should feel ashamed of what you did, all the damage you’re causing him but you have nothing to say; not a single word left your deceitful mouth.

“Do I really not deserve any explanation? Not even a simple, “I’m sorry.”? Is this what it’s really come to now, can’t even look me in the eye and apologize for having me out here looking stupid, remaining loyal to you even when I’m tempted at times… I’ve shown you nothing but love and honesty while all you’ve been doing is lying to my face and planning to hook up with other guys while you’re cooped up right next to me, do you know how worthless that makes me feel y/n?” He continued pouring all his emotions out, yet you still give him a blank stare, as if none of this was affecting you.

“Answer me y/n, why do you keep fucking lying to me?!” Though he kept asking, you still didn’t have a clear response for him, you yourself couldn’t even understand why you did it, it was more a spur of the moment thing. You simply wanted the attention, the thrill of it all, it was a horrifying revelation but you had no other excuse.

“Han, I-I’m really sorry for what I’ve done. Words can’t express enough how deeply guilty I feel… I’m just- I don’t know- maybe this relationship just isn’t working out for me anymore.”

“Shh shh, don’t say things you don’t mean, take it back now baby.”

What the hell are you doing to him? Was this really your way of saying that you wanted to officially break up? The sudden turn of events from wanting to work things out to the possibility of losing you made him regret being too harsh on you, though it was more than warranted, he wanted to keep this relationship alive, he couldn’t succumb to the idea of you walking out of his life this easily.

“Are you saying you want to end t-this…?” His voice cracks, visibly shaken up by your apparent coldness.

“Yeah, I think it’s for the best honestly... You deserve someone better than me.” It may have been semi-manipulative of you to say that but it was truth, he did deserve better, someone who wasn’t going to cheat on him and will properly communicate when they want out of something. “You’re just too… clingy for me Han. You’re overbearing at times, I want to be the one for you I really do, but I’m not. This isn’t working anymore for me, I know how selfish this sounds but I miss being single…” your confession hit him hard, he didn’t want to accept it, not when you made him the happiest he’s ever been.

“As much as it kills me to hear that, I’ll respect it.. but can you at least let me touch you… just for last time’s sake..? I’d be lying to myself if I said I wouldn’t miss eating you out every day, getting to make you feel good, watching you moan out my name as you cum for me. Will you let me do it again, please? I’ll let you go in peace if that’s what you really want, just let me show you what you’ll be missing afterwards.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Felix

“Why have you been so cold towards me lately? Is there something that’s been going on that you won’t tell me about? You can tell me anything, I swear— I’m here to listen to your concerns babe.” Felix wouldn’t stop bombarding you with a plethora of questions, he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. Soon as you get home from work you go straight upstairs without talking, you barely acknowledge him anymore and it’s been driving a wedge between your relationship and how you coexist together.

“I’m fine, seriously, stop asking!” You hiss, trying to shrug him off as you make your way into the bathroom.

You know what you’re saying is farthest from the truth, you’ve been harboring massive amounts of guilt since you made an irreversible mistake a week ago. The night you drunkenly hooked up with someone else at a nightclub— which has been weighing heavily on your conscience every waking moment. You couldn’t even look at him the same anymore, you’ve completely killed the spark between each other, he may not have known it yet but you had to be the one to break it to him.

“C’mon y/n… I know you’re clearly not okay. I’m not an idiot, I know how distant you’ve been acting, it’s quite obvious actually. You won’t even let me touch you anymore, I don’t understand how someone can just flip a switch like that. Is there someone else you’re seeing? Be honest, whatever you have to say to me I can handle it… just tell me the truth please y/n!” Felix couldn’t help but tear up as he begged for answers, his pleas were taking a toll on you— tugging at your heartstrings. It was time to come clean once and for all.

“I-I cheated on you last week..” you anxiously mutter, you couldn’t believe such a sentence came out of your mouth.

“You what…?” He blinks rapidly, in utter disbelief of your sudden admission, mouth slightly agape from shock, he felt his world crumbling beneath him. You kept making all the sorry excuses you could, saying you were drunk and how much it meant nothing to you, the more you tried explaining though, the more he didn’t want to listen.

“So you slept with someone else a week ago and didn’t even bother telling me ‘til now? Un-fucking-believable…” He scoffs, unable to even look at you in the same innocent light he once did.

Stumbling over words as you muster up the nerve to continue asking for forgiveness, it was truly pitiful of you to even think he’d hold any compassion for you, it was your actions that led you here to begin with.

“Felix please don’t leave- I know I fucked up but I can make it up to you, p-promise!”

“And how the fuck are you gonna do that y/n? Build a time machine to go back and change everything? Do you hear how idiotic that sounds? You must be high out of your mind right now.”

“Lix j-just hear me out, I was blackout drunk and didn’t fully understand the consequences of it a-”

“That doesn’t make it any better y/n! Fuck, all the shit I do for you and you hit me with this lame pile of shit, I’m so through with your sorry ass, it’s over.” You wished you could take back everything you did but what’s done is already done, there is no redo or fixing any part of the past.

“Strip.” He aggressively orders in his deep voice, you were hesitant on doing it at first but it wasn’t until he started doing it for you that you eventually complied to his rules.

You felt as though there was nothing you could do in this situation but submit to him, taking off every piece of clothing— leaving you in nothing but your tiny thong that barely covered anything. He forcibly makes you get onto your knees, facing the apparent bulge through his jeans— he’s never been the type to like seeing you cry nor completely powerless but this was different. He wanted revenge, wanted to humiliate you in the same way you did to him.

“I’m gonna post these in the groupchat just to show how much of a greedy, fucking whore you are.” Felix couldn’t even recognize himself, he’s never been so domineering as he was now. He kept pushing your head further down as you took his cock deep, down your throat, his hips bucking into a steady rhythm that made you see flashes of white and stars combined. After he snaps a couple shots of you sucking him off, he immediately sends them to all of his friends, not having a single care in the world what they do with those photos. It was simply payback for what you did, you deserved this after all.

“I hope one day you realize how good you had it with me, you fucking slut— you’ve completely ruined my trust forever. You’re the most heartless, conniving person I’ve ever known in my life and I mean every bit of it. Don’t come cryin’ to me once this is all over, I don’t wanna hear it, pack your shit and get out of my house. I should’ve known you were nothing but a damn nightmare since I heard about you.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Seungmin

Never in his lifetime would he think of you ever pulling a stunt like this, finding out you did some of the most unspeakable acts with someone in the same house you two share together. It was the biggest slap in the face to him, completely crushed his ego. Seungmin gave you a chance to explain yourself but as you continued he couldn’t bear to keep listening anymore.

“How could you even do this to me, just lied to my face this whole fucking time y/n, I trusted you.” He proceeds to go on a mindless tangent, “do you have any ounce of morals? Dignity? You played me so bad and I fell for every bit of it, fell for all the lies you’ve been feeding me for months on end.”

You want to give as honest of a response as possible but the lump in your throat causes you to stir, the only reaction was to sob in this moment.

“Awe, is that a tear I see? Is the wittle cheating slut gonna start cwying for me?” He mocks condescendingly, tilting his head to the side in fake amusement. This only made you cry more, feeling all types of shame and guilt for your heinous actions, what you did was unacceptable, unforgivable. Seungmin saw right through you, he knew you were only crying because you got caught, not because you were truly remorseful. Everything about you seemed inauthentic, he doesn’t know who you are anymore truthfully.

“I- I can explain.” You dolefully attempt to speak, nothing would help your case anyway, it didn’t matter how hard you tried.

“What is there to explain y/n? I saw you fucking another guy in our bed, I think that should be self explanatory in itself.” He’s more than right, however, you still manage to reason with him.

“It was just sex, he didn’t matter to me at all like you do, I’m sorry— I know you’ll never forgive me but all I can say is I’m really sorry… you’ll probably want to kick me out after this and I don’t blame you- just give me time to fix this and I’ll do anything to gain your trust back!”

Seungmin wishes he could’ve recorded this conversation, the way you’re so oblivious to how this is hurting him more than you could even comprehend. He had every right to yell at you, tell you how much of a terrible person you are, but he won’t do that, he can’t— it was all too much for him to handle.

“You want to regain my trust after I just saw my own girlfriend of one year and a half getting her back blown out by some random dude in my fucking bed?” The audacity you had was insane, you were acting more than entitled.

Reconciling the detriment of your relationship was futile by now. You had no more fight left within, seemingly ready to give up on everything you’ve built thus far. Seungmin notices you look mentally checked out of all this, causing him to be deeply irritated. He really wanted to give you benefit of the doubt but you weren’t budging one bit.

“You know what I despise the most y/n? Liars. They absolutely disgust me.” He seethes, pushing you backwards onto the bed you just cheated on him in. Your eyes roll up as you feel the shuddering sensation of teeth sinking into your neck, legs flailing around as you had both arms pinned down.

“Did it feel good to lie to my face? Is this some kind of demented kink you have? I bet you don’t even give a shit how I’m feeling right now.” His tone became more serious as he ranted, lashing everything out on you. When the slight contact of his cock brushes against your clothed slit, the immediate response you gave was bucking your hips, receiving a sinister glare from him. His legs lock your thighs in place, unable to shift a muscle. Your whines only grew louder, he was never going to give you the satisfaction of moving.

“You think I’m really gonna let you move? Silly little slut, that’s only reserved for girls that aren’t lying cheaters like you. I’m so going to make you pay for this, you have no idea… I better not hear a peep outta you and I sure as hell better not feel you make any sudden movement. There will be harsh outcomes if you try it, I fucking dare you.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Jeongin

You knew you were in such deep shit once he arrives back at your apartment, Jeongin texted you this morning— exposing all the dirty shit you’ve been doing in secret. He was practically speeding down the highway with rage, thinking about you getting off with some other guy and playing in his face knowing the whole time what you were doing. The fact you kept repeating over text how sorry you were for your actions just aggravated him even more, he was about to give you the rudest awakening. Jeongin bursts through the door, fuming as he walks in to only be welcomed by your continuous begs and pleads. It was quite pitiful seeing you like this, usually he likes seeing you on your knees but not in this context…

Your lips tremble as you spoke, barely able to chalk up the will to keep going, you wanted to show your sincere remorse but Jeongin wasn’t going to let you off the hook so easily.

“I don’t think you should be apologizing to me. You should be apologizing to yourself for how much of a huge slut you are.” He scorns viciously, “you have no one but yourself to blame, this could’ve all been easily avoided if you’d just close you’re fucking legs for once!” It wasn’t like him to get this loud and it was the first time he’s yelled at you like this.

“I just- I don’t know what I was thinking babe, I wasn’t in the right mind.” The more you try and justify your despicable cheating only aggravates him further. He wants nothing to do with you after this, but that doesn’t mean he won’t give you the most deranged post breakup sex as a final farewell and good riddance.

“Guess you really can’t turn a hoe into a housewife, so I’ll just fuck you like one instead.” You swallow his words harshly, it pained you to hear these things come out of his mouth but he was right.

To put it simply, you were for the streets; there wasn’t one redeemable quality in you. Jeongin demands you to stand up, telling you to get on the couch with your ass up in the air since looking at your face would only make his dick go soft.

“Who’d you cheat on me with, huh?” He asks sternly.

“It d-doesn’t matter anymore.” You try reasoning but he won’t allow you to hide anything else from him.

“I’m not going to ask again, tell me who you fucking cheated on me with, now.” A hand harshly spanks you from behind, letting a tiny whine escape as you dig further into the couch to brace yourself.

“B-beomgyu...”

“Gyu?? Are you fucking serious, of all people it had to be one of my closest fucking friends? You really are the biggest whore after all.” Jeongin was so done with you at this point, he just wanted to fuck you until you couldn’t physically walk anymore, it was only right for what you’re putting him through.

He slid your panties aside and pushed himself in without warning, making you scream out as he held your hips aggressively in place.

“Fuckk- you’re still so tight, did he even fuck you? Barely stretched this pussy out for me.” He grunts, producing deeper strokes, feeling your ass cheeks clap against him. “I fucking hate you, so much.”

The waterworks only continue as he kept degrading you, this was all you’ve succumb to now, just a toy for anyone to use as much as they please. Your head slightly bobs up from his length ramming harder into you, he only pushes your face further into the cushion as he berates you more with disdain, “Didn’t I say don’t move? A useless hole like you should know when to take directions, always so fucking eager to screw someone else other than me, so goddamn pathetic.” He hissed, ignoring your cries for him to slow his pace but only gets more hostile with you.

“God.. will you shut your fucking mouth already? No matter how much you cry and beg I’m not going to stop. You’ve got some real nerve to even be acting outta line, wow, you truly disgust me. Gonna make you feel the same pain I’m feeling— don’t care how bad it hurts, I’ll make you regret ever even meeting me.”

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love part 8 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

(also on AO3 here where it's still in need of love, if anybody is feeling kind *sobs* ;))

Chapter Eight

Eddie POV continued

“You kissed? And now you can’t wake him?” Robin perches beside Steve on the bunk then rounds on Eddie—genuinely baring her teeth. “I shouldn’t leave you alone with him. It’s like you’re cursing him or something.”

“Woah! Are you accusing me of satanist shit now?” Eddie stops pacing the floorboards, claws his hair.

“Steve? Steve! Oh God, please!” She gently pats him, sinks her face into a hand. “Sorry, Eddie. It’s just… totally unexplainable.” She looks up sharply. “That’s exactly what we should be looking for, right?”

“The unexplainable?” Robin nods. “I should be dead. Steve should be bright and breezy—”

“—and it’s not anything to do with the Upside Down.”

Eddie hums uneasily. Should he share the new theory he’s got brewing? “I dunno. It blows to be a cynic, but—"

“Come on, Eddie! There are so many other possible explanations. If the Upside Down is real, who knows what else is? You’re a maestro of the D and D underworld—work with me here.”

They bounce ideas off each other, including that Steve might’ve succumbed to bad beer. Neither of them buy that one.

“Maybe Steve has some sort of regenerative power,” she says, “like Doctor Who. And you’re leeching it out of him, or something.”

Eddie hoots: “It’s my fault again?”

“No! Look, I sometimes get kinda papa grizzly where Steve is concerned, which is odd, because otherwise, I have almost zero protective instinct. We can’t deny the pattern, though—last time you two got mouth to mouth, he performed miracles and then went downhill fast. This time, uh…”

“I slurped the life out of him again?” Eddie sinks down on the opposite bunk. He thinks back to the kiss, which had been so mind-blowingly awesome. Until it wasn’t. Time to test his number one sucks-balls-squared theory of the day.

He slowly peels his shirt—or, rather, Steve’s now extremely grubby t-shirt—off over his head.

“Ew! Save it for the boys, Munson.”

He runs his palm across his midriff, glances over his shoulder, then hurries closer to the window for better light. Holy shit. “I was still covered in scars yesterday. Even earlier today, there was too much pink among the ink. Now there’s diddly-squat.”

 “So, Steve is still healing you?”

Eddie scrunches the shirt and hurls it across the room. “Yeah, and at this rate, my payback’s gonna kill him! We’ve been so fixated on Steve—what if I’m somehow a font of crappy juju? The big bad wolf the whole world believes I am, after all.”

“No.” Robin strokes Steve’s arm. Eddie’s dying to be close to him, too. Shit, he doesn’t dare! “It’s the water. It gives him some kind of power, and he’s passing it on to you. I mean, it doesn’t explain everything, but…”

Eddie retrieves his shirt, grabs her lifeline and clings to it. “It’s as good an explanation as any.”

“Ooooh!” She turns super-excited. “Perhaps there are fairies in Lover’s Lake? Water nymphs? Or aliens landed there! I’m still mightily suspicious about those clouds and the choppers, because—”

“This is getting absurd, Robin.” She sneers at him, shrugs anyhow. “Look, if we buy the lake theory, what can we do about it? It’s not like we can drag him there. We left the car practically in the next county, and he’s too sick.”

“I could fetch water and bring it back here?”

“Given my recent form, I think it’s best for you to stay with him. Eddie the Banished will don his armour and head once more into the breach.”

“Shakespeare? You listened in English Lit?”

Eddie puffs out his chest, conjuring a bravado he so doesn’t feel. “Still gonna be my year, Buckley.”

His armour is chiefly the shelter of the forest, during several hours of tedious trek. He cycles the last part of his journey, pulling his bandana over his face. When he makes radio contact with Dustin, however, his journey feels more than worth it.

Eddie arranges a meet with the Wheelers at Skull Rock. At least, he believes he does. Dustin communicates in one of his more baffling codes. Eddie is blown away, therefore, when he spots his fave lil’ dude approaching their liaison spot. Dustin defiantly wears his Hellfire Club t-shirt, despite everything.

Dustin throws down his crutches. Eddie rushes forward and flings his arms around him.

“Eddie! You son-of-a-bitch! You scared me so much!”

“Yeeeah, I was pretty scared myself.” Eddie hugs him tight, squeezes his eyes tighter. Tears leak anyhow. “But I’m alive and…” He pulls back, drinks up the sight of Dustin, who sniffs and rubs his red face. “God, it’s good to see you.”

Somebody clears their throat. Eddie jumps a good two inches in the air.

“Hey.” Nancy Wheeler stands a few yards off, offering a sheepish wave, which Eddie returns.

It’s not really surprising she’s there. Someone had to give Dustin a ride, and help him limp through the woods. Sitting beneath the rock, the three of them discuss possible explanations for wtf is going on with Steve.

“Okay, let me get my head around this,” she says. “You think Steve derives some sort of regenerative power from Lover’s Lake? And he’s sick? Right now?” She frets her lip. “I should go to him.”

“Uuuuuh, no need. We’re coping all right.” Eddie almost laughs out loud at how badly he doesn’t want her anywhere near Steve. He’d never in his wildest dreams have believed he would go toe-to-toe as a love rival with Nancy Wheeler.

She shakes her head. “There’s gotta be a connection with the Upside Down. This is bad. Really bad.”

“Not necessarily,” says Dustin. “I like Eddie’s hypothesis. There’s no logical reason why all the supernatural shit in this town, let alone this world, is evil.”

“It was Robin’s hypothesis,” admits Eddie.

“Whatever,” says Dustin. “If a bad alternate dimension can bleed into ours, maybe a good dimension can too.”

“I suppose,” said Nancy. Eddie nearly agrees with her, but can’t quite be that gracious. “Either way, if that lake fixes Steve somehow, we need to act quick.”

Nancy heads off to collect lake water. Once she’s gone, Eddie feels able to share his other Steve-related issue: “Didn’t want to divulge this in front of Wheeler, but… Uh, Steve and I got mouth-to-mouth again.”

“You had to perform CPR on him? I had no idea you knew—”

“There’s other reasons that lips meet.” Eddie puckers his lips and crosses his eyes, totally silly. 

Dustin stares at him, his mouth hanging open. “Oh!”

“Yeah. Theeeeen… he basically passed out.”

“Whut?”

“Look, don’t ask me to explain it! I mean, I like him. I really like him. Equally implausible, I think he likes me, but…” Aargh! His feelings for Steve are more tortuous than pleasurable right now. What’s more, the distance between them makes armouring his heart a teeny-weeny bit easier. 

“But?” Dustin bobs up and down on his butt.

“If I’m making him sicker, I should make myself scarce. I still wonder if I’m the bad apple here. Flayed… or whatever. It would neatly continue the sordid tale that is my life. Plus, if Hopper’s back, I bet he can get Steve off the hook for aiding and abetting, or whatever. Steve can go home, get the help he needs.”

“Hopper’s got his own problems, dude.” Dustin scratches his head beneath his baseball cap, kinda nervy. “There’s this army colonel in town, O’Sullivan, who’s pretty much Vecna levels of evil. He knows about Brenner and Hawkins Lab, and… Long story, cut short. He’s out to kill Eleven.”

“You gotta be shitting me!”

“That was my line when I found out. Hopper and El are hiding out, waiting for a safe opportunity to get outta Dodge. The band of the banished gets bigger every day.”

“Well, this exile should return to being a solo act. Steve and I absolutely would not work in the real world.”

“Huh?” Dustin wrinkles his nose. “You’re different—that’s what makes it fun. Even Suzie and I don’t like all the same music, for example. She’s got a real downer on Debbie Gibson.”

“Then maybe I should date Suzie,” mumbles Eddie, avoiding Dustin’s scrutiny. “In reality, Steve and I are from different planets. I’ve seen his house—his folks are loaded.”

“You can’t hold Steve’s parents against him. They’re literally never there for him. His Dad travels tons, and they stopped taking him with him when he was, like, eleven, because…” Dustin’s jaw drops again.

“Because what?” prompts Eddie. 

“Steve stopped travelling with his parents because he started getting sick every time.”

“So, he got travel sick. So do tons of kids. So what?”

“I honestly don’t know! But it supports your theories concerning his proximity to the lake. Sort of.” Dustin whacks his cap against the rock. “Jesus-mother-effing-son-of-a-bitch! I am literally dying to return to a world where I can trust the laws of science.”

Steve POV

1979

Getting himself up in the morning, getting himself to the school bus-stop alone—that only sucked.

It was the emptiness of the night that freaked him out.

Steve stayed up too late, of course he did. He was nearly twelve years old, with nobody to tell him what to do. He ate sweets and watched grown-up television, which got boring pretty fast. When he finally plucked up the courage to go to bed, he’d huddle under the covers, muffling his ears. It never drowned out that horrible, screaming quiet.

Who knew silence could be so loud?

He missed his mom, and it hurt, too. Knowing she chose to leave him behind. 

He’d hated travelling, because in the last year, he’d always got ill. Like, not just travel sick, but fevers and chills and headaches and stomach cramps, always “ruining” his father’s trips. 

Inevitably, his dad decreed that he must stay behind, and the first couple of times, his mom stayed home with him. Then she’d told him his father needed her more. What did that even mean? Steve really, really needed her, simply to be there. Somewhere in the house.

She wasn’t. 

The hours would stretch on, while he was too scared to close his eyes, until…

The monsters barged out of the closet, rioting through his nightmares. Then THEY arrived, with their smooth, smiling face and whirlpool eyes. That wordlessly singing voice, trickling through the waters, reassuring him everything would be all right…

In the morning, shuffling to the bus-stop, he remembered them. Clearer than the monsters, even. Oh man, he could be so childish and unhip sometimes.

“Steve? Steve! Please wake up! You’ve been asleep for hours.”

A groan escapes him, and then: “Momma?” Somehow, he knows it’s not her. “Dad?”

He opens his eyes. 

Oh shit. 

No, that’s not where his life is now. He’s sure as hell not eleven-years-old! Robin looks faintly amused, and also like she wants to thump him: “Gonna give you a pass on that this once, Steve, then go bleach my brain.”

Part 9

...

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 10 Part 11

[kingmagnificoofrosas]

Hello! So I figured I should probably share my two cents on this since you seem pretty open for discussion. I understand a previous anon brought up the fact that this isn’t excusing it’s just explaining and I also understand that Magnifico mainly went all villain when that rat book took control, but I also feel like there may be a slight… I’m not sure how to describe it honestly so I’ll let the rest of my ask speak and see if hopefully my point tangible.

Magnifico did hold a weapon to Amaya’s face to threaten her into agreeing with him, and based on her reaction to seeing him with the evil magic (rapid breathing, shaky speech, flinching, instant fawn + freeze reaction) it’s possible she likely has some form of trauma that I personally believe may have been a abusive relationship.

I should say I am NOT a Magnifico hater, I don’t believe he was a villain at all but I’m not sure about hero. Of course I’m open to hearing others out and I’m entirely open to learning new things and changing my opinions! So this isn’t me saying ‘No you’re wrong I’m right’ it’s just intended as me giving my own personal views and asking for yours in return! Sorry for the three paragraph ask and I hope that you have a great day! 💙

(Also to people who hate on Magnifico that are coming to this account, just why?? Just leave instead of throwing a hissy fit in this persons asks whose just being kind and sharing their personal views, it’s that easy 😒)

Hey anon!

First of all, thank you for being so nice and defending me! Absolutely right! It's beyond me how someone who doesn't like him comes to my blog to nagg at me for loving and defending him, make me a bad person and furthermore accuse me of things .... crazy, anyway! Don't apologize for this long ask! 😆 I appreciate you wanting my opinion! I also wish you a great day! 💙

Now, let's begin this, shall we?

I can actually explain this as well!! 😃 (and no, it doesn't have anything to do with me loving and defending Magnifico. (Well mostly. *Eherm*) this is based on logical observations!

Soo, Amaya's reactions ... I'm absolutely sure they're not because he's been abusive. Magnifico had been nothing but a sweetheart to her. The explanations are much simpler and relatable.

Amaya knew that Magnifico was able to do great magic, she knew he was very powerful. But she also knew the evil book was powerful. She didn't know to what degree but what do you think happens to someone who's already powerful and gets posessed/controlled by an evil force?

Exactly. They become dangerous and unpredictable. The more power someone has the more dangerous they'd be if posessed by evil. Think of the nicest, sweetest dog, who'd never bite, never do anything bad. If this dog was to get posessed by an evil force, it could maul someone to death. It has teeth and a very powerful jaw to begin with.

The other thing is, who wouldn't flinch if someone pointed a weapon at them? This is a natural human reflex. Yes, some people are jumpier than others (I am 🤣, truly! Sometimes my coworker sneaks up on me while I work on a client to whisper something in my ear and I squeal in shock every single time. It's funny for everyone but me.) But we're talking about Amaya here! It's normal for the body to react if threatened. So we have our reasons why she went fawn mode.

Also, one of the first things she says to him is "How could you!" So, he's already in a very bad place, traumatized, suffering and on top posessed by evil now, and the first thing he's confronted with by his "wife" is blame. Nice. Blame! Guilt tripping and cornering him even further! Bravo Amaya 👏🏼

So Amaya being scared is relatable and justified. But does her being afraid justify her dumping and backstabbing Magnifico? No.

Just look at her smirk as she gives the guards the order to put him in the dungeons! I'm fine with Amaya x Magnifico shippers but I personally will never ship them! Poor man was desperate and shocked at how quickly and with how much ease she was writing him off.

If Magnifico had been her soulmate, she would have fought to death to get him back. Just imagine, if she had stood up and defended him, pleading her people to help her, saying something like : "Listen to me! Magnifico isn't evil, he's posessed by evil! I know he's dangerous and unpredictable right now but I know he's still in there somewhere and if we can reach him, we can get him back! I know you're scared, I am too, but together we can make it! Please, stand with me!"

I mean, she's the queen, alright? The people of Rosas are to obey and follow her command right after Magnifico. One right word of her and her people would follow her and not Asha. Btw. She could have also asked Asha and her friends to help her. I don't think they would have disagreed if she'd pleaded with them. She's their queen! Or would Asha have turned against Amaya as well then? 😐

You cannot tell me they wouldn't have been able to reach and save Magnifico by standing together in love and bold compassion! We literally saw how the wishes and (star) were set free from the evil force just by singing and standing together! Only imagine they had done this to free Magnifico! Saying he wasn't savable because the evil book said so is bullcrap.

I don't believe the evil book! A evil book is well, evil! And light will always be more powerful than darkness! Love will always be stronger than hate! Imagine a room full of darkness, then light a match, that tiny speck of light is still glowing! The dark cannot consume it! Because in light there cannot be darkness. And what does a evil book do besides destroy and corrupt?

Also, this looks painful! 🥺☝🏻this is nothing but incredibly tragic and sad!

Also, in the past, every single heroine has managed to break curses by true love and compassion! I was reminded of Moana and Te fiti for this!

Do you guys remember that scene, where Moana realizes that Te Fiti is still inside the posessed evil monster? Was Moana afraid? Sure she was! But did that stop her from reaching out to get her back? No!

Te ka (evil Te Fiti) could have burned Moana to a crisp in the split of 2 seconds but Moana still bravely approached her! She willingly faced death because she knew Te Fiti was still in there and by her immense love and compassion she'd get her back! She went "this is not who you are!" And boom!

There's more!

I also remember a scene from the 2 Maleficent live action! When Maleficent was consumed and controlled by hate, anger and revenge. She was all hiss, roar, I'm evil and Aurora stood up to her and told her "This isn't you! There's another way! I know who you are! I know you!" And Maleficent replies "You do not!" And Aurora in tears, in pain but 100% certain, says "Yes I do! You're my mother!"

And just like that the evil in Maleficent crumbles. True loves overcomes all evil! It's always been that way.

And even if no one would have helped Amaya, we'd still have the (true love breaks every curse!) But she did nothing. Well, she did run to Asha and her friends to sing about how bad he's always been like a pop star. She gave Magnifico up over the course of minutes, didn't even try fighting to get him back and wrote him off with a smile!

Magnifico was deeply hurt, the betrayal stung and he suffered inside. He had so much pain and anger and his anger is justified! Please, put yourself in his shoes for a moment. One doesn't even have to fully understand trauma and the whole complexity of the different forms of ptsd.

He only ever tried his best to have everyone happy and content. He only ever wanted to protect and keep safe. That's always been his goal. He held onto his power because he wanted to be strong enough to keep whats dear to him from harm at all costs! If someone wants to protect that fiercly it only means that person loves immensly 1 and 2 has suffered unbelievable painful loss. He loved his people! He cared for his people immensly. So much so he was willing to get himself posessed by evil even if he never wanted to! He felt forced by his desperation and utter fear.

And what did his people do in the end? Can you imagine how badly it must have hurt to realize you've only been loved for what you can do and give? How used he must have felt? He's been celebrated more for being handsome and a limitless genie than a loving king who established an amazing kingdom and ruled it well! He's bent backwards and all it took his people to turn on him was a teenager who thinks she knows better than anyone with a strange cute looking creature from the sky, they btw. knew just as little about!

Everyone backstabbed and betrayed him. Here he is, at the peak of all his suffering and posessed. His soul surely cried for help, hoped for anyone to reach out to him but no one did. He got kicked into his wound even further. Quite literally, this was the thanks he got.

[herbeloved82]

New Memories of a Past Time

“You look - pensive.” Armand said from the door, looking at Marius unsure if his presence would be welcomed in his study. It was the first time since they went back to each other that Armand felt this way and it was unsettling. It felt wrong to feel unsure in Marius’ presence however he didn’t know how to erase this strange distance that had crept between them in the last several days. 

Marius was looking outside, his work forgotten on the desk. Armand looked at the abandoned brushes and pencils, all neatly aligned in their cases and containers, untouched. Even the fountain pen Marius preferred to write down new laws for their kind looked forgotten on the desk, side by side with empty pages of expensive paper. 

Only when Armand spoke Marius turned and there was an heaviness in his movements, an unnatural stillness that worried Armand even more. Was he hurt? Did something happen when he was still asleep? Armand knew it was possible, sure, Marius woke up earlier than him, but no one could be foolish enough to attack the Prime Minister in his own home, so close to the beginning of the night. 

With blazing eyes Armand drank every inch of his lover, looking for hidden clues that could tell him what was going on in his mind. Never like now did he hate the silence between their minds, that emptiness that filled his mind like the absence of touch. 

It was like something shifted inside Marius, one look at his love, his Armand - and how deeply had he despaired he could never call Armand that - and he was moving without thinking. Marius couldn’t stand to feel the uneasiness coming from Armand and today he knew it was because of him. 

“I’m sorry, dear one.” He said when he was in front of him, his chest almost touching Armand’s, any space between them erased by his need to be close to Armand. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

Words were powerful weapons between them. Too many would weigh upon Armand, igniting his defense mechanisms when they would overwhelm his mind and soul. Armand was used to silence and quiet. Dealing with feelings was still hard for him, for so long he forbade himself to feel, to open up to others and yet, too much of any emotion or hope and Armand  would shut down, making him doubt himself and Marius’ love all over again. A seemingly unreachable balance was required, yet it demanded constant work to be better, to communicate more in their own special language made of gazes and touches, but also of offered peace and understanding. It was a commitment both of them took seriously, but sometimes there were unseen bumps on their path, and it looked like Marius reached one without even realizing it. 

“You went silent.” Armand said. It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement, the proof of how unsure he was of the whole situation. 

He didn’t want to attack Marius, but at the same time he was building his walls up, to protect himself in case they had to talk about things that could potentially hurt him. Both of them knew, God, the whole castle knew that there was only one thing that could not only hurt Armand, but destroy him completely and that was losing Marius once again. 

It was his secret fear and what he constantly anticipated. The sword of Damocles over his head, for he refused to use any modern nonsense about dropping shoes. 

This chaotic thinking was a testament to how worried he was. Thoughts swirling in his mind like a maelstrom, emotions he didn’t want to deal with ready to ambush him as soon as vulnerability was shoved. 

“I did, and I apologize.” Marius admitted tentatively. 

His arms wrapped Armand in a hug, and he looked, fascinated like the first time, as Armand put his ear over his heart and allowed the slow beat to calm him down. 

“I didn’t realize I was slipping until you called it to my attention.” He kept going, giving Armand an explanation that he didn’t demand. Sometimes it was just easier for him to retreat in his own mind, but he had to remember now that he wasn’t alone anymore. He wasn’t allowed to run without at least explaining why. 

“Did something happen?” 

No, not really. Or maybe it did, Marius wasn’t sure of why he felt the melancholy sneaking upon him all so sudden. It was like all of a sudden everything was too heavy. People demanded too much from him, his work wasn’t good enough, even painting became a labor more than a beloved task. 

Then he looked outside once again and he looked at the first snow coming down to the sky and everything was clear in his mind and the answer was so painfully easy he was ashamed he didn’t realize this sooner. 

“It’s the time of the year.” He answered with a voice heavy with self mockery. For someone who always prided himself on his own mind, he could be exceptionally unobservant on occasions like this one. 

“I remember the last Saturnalia I spent with my family before my father’s passing.” 

It wasn’t a particularly depressing memory, instead it was one that he dearly cherished even now, after so long, one of the few he managed to save in his mind of the time when he had been alive and still in Rome, surrounded by a family he loved and who had loved him. 

And as much as he loved to remember that time, it hurt him in equal measure to think about brothers whose names have been erased by history and time, and it always left a bittersweet aftertaste in his mouth to think about them. 

Armand took a deep breath he didn’t need and detangled himself from Marius’ arms, immediately regretting the loss of comfort and peace. He led them to the couch in front of the fireplace, one little quirk he demanded Marius to accommodate, and took his favorite spot on Marius’ lap as soon as his lover was comfortable. 

“Tell me. Tell me everything about that.” 

They never spoke of this particular festivity before, they never had time to explore each other’s culture and traditions, and now they refused to lose more between them. They couldn’t stand the thought of not knowing everything the other had loved and cherished before and during their time apart. 

Armand wanted to devour everything that Marius was and had to give and Marius offered his whole self to the consumption. 

Laughs. So many laughs and cheers. They created a cacophony of happiness and serenity. The election happened a few moments ago. Fortuna, the blind goddess chose the new simulacrum of Saturn and everyone rejoiced. For another year Rome would be blessed with peace and wealth. 

Marius remembered a time when his father would pick him up and put him over his shoulders so that he would be able to see what was happening, peeking from above other people’s heads from his vantage point. 

Now Marius was a man, old enough to earn his place in the military, and his father was old and fragile, but still the mirth in his eyes was the same, and the happiness in his smile wasn’t touched by the fatigue that has plagued his body lately. 

Looking at him now, of the strong and powerful Senator only a distant echo remained, and yet he was there, with his family, to enjoy the beginning of the new season. 

“Lucius and Livia will be happy, their slave has been chosen as the new God.” One of his brothers said and Marius nodded, distracted by the happiness around him. Kids were playing as they waited for the sweets to be offered, uninterested in the social meaning of the festivities. Slaves were smiling for the next week they would be allowed to behave like free men. That was what Marius loved about this season, how the world was upside down and it still kept moving forward, a reminder that they were unimportant and their staying on this Earth only temporary. 

“So, the slaves would become Masters for a week?” Armand’s voice cut into his story and Marius wasn’t surprised. His beloved always bit at life like it could be snatched from under his nose. Always thinking, always moving forward even when his body was as still as a statue. 

“That was the point. To celebrate the Old God, who in many traditions was a slave himself, and give those like him the power they never had before.” 

Marius explained as best as he could while being distracted by Armand, moving sinuous until he finally straddled Marius’ lap. Tempting like the call of a siren and finally all his. 

“So, you would have to concede your power?” He asked, his voice just a whisper, full of lust and mischievousness. 

“If a slave of my house was chosen.” Marius confirmed. He tries, valiantly, to keep a composure, but Armand was the one temptation he could never resist. His strong hands grabbed his lover’s slim waist, taking their bodies even closer. Such a lovely torture his Armand was offering. 

“And you should have done what they asked?” 

“It was the tradition.” Marius moaned as Armand kissed his neck. Cold lips against colder skin and yet Marius felt on fire. 

“Would you concede power now, Master?” Armand made his point even clearer by biting Marius’s neck hard enough to sting but not to pierce the skin covering the alluring veins. 

“You’re not my slave and yet, Armand, to you I would always concede.” Marius admitted without fear or regret in his voice. Armand was the only one he would give power over himself. Armand was everything to him and to offer him such control was a testament of how much Marius trusted his love. 

“Would you allow me to do anything to you?” 

“Anything and everything.” 

“Even taking your blood?” Armand asked at the end, knowing how precious Marius’ blood was, and how much his Master disliked sharing it.  

After those words left Armand’s mouth, Marius stilled and gently pulled at Armand’s hair. When Armand looked at him, his eyes shone with confidence and a seriousness that indicated he knew how important this moment was. A wrong move and he knew they would end up at the beginning all over again, only this time it would be even harder to proceed forward. “It is yours.” Marius simply said, looking into Armand’s eyes now shining pools of burning fire and passion. 

Armand didn’t waste a moment longer before his mouth was back on Marius’ neck, and this time when he bit down, his ancient and powerful blood rushed to his mouth and Armand drank it like it was ambrosia coming from Ganymede's cup. 

As the rich flavor coated his mouth and memories were shared between them, Armand was inebriated and lust exploded in his body. This was what he always wanted, this closeness through the blood, the one thing Santino couldn’t poison. The one thing that made him immortal and tied him to Marius for eternity.

The more he drank, the more he wanted and moans erupted from his throat making him a beast more than a man, but he wasn’t ashamed. He didn’t have time to as Marius too moaned at the perfection of this moment between them. This unholy communion that would, once again, make them one. 

It took all of his strength for Armand to stop, not to take too much. His lust would be satisfied in other ways tonight. Marius was his, and he was Marius’. They had time, all the time in the world and wouldn’t be so crazy as to waste this new chance that was given to them. 

However, as soon as his mouth was free, Armand felt exposed and vulnerable, but also hungry, oh so hungry, for any piece of Marius he could get. 

When he kissed his Master, Armand’s mouth was devouring, sucking and claiming every inch of him.  

Marius tightened his arms against Armand’s body when the taste of his own blood exploded on his tongue. He kissed Armand with the same fierce passion that was reserved to him, and his sharp fangs slashed into the tender skin of Armand’s lips. 

Like this, with their blood between them, drinking and sucking and kissing each other’s like their whole eternity depended on it, Marius thought of the future they could and would have, and of the past that led them to this moment in time. 

Somewhere an Old God smiled kindly to one of his children who still walked his Lands and the love of his life safe in his arms. Yes, he decided, this would be a good year. 

END 

[sopheadraws]

When it comes to Brittany S. Pierce, people’s interpretations are all over the place. It ranges anywhere from <3 innocent babie <3, to severely cognitively impaired, to manipulative liar who pretends to be stupid so others obey their will (which I’ll later accuse her mother of, but that’s neither here nor there). Anyways, I’m adding my opinion into the cacophony because, despite the indecisive fanbase, thorough Brittany meta is lacking in quantity. Also, I tend to think my opinion is best, as is human nature.

This analysis is rooted in autistic!Brittany, and while its unnecessary since I’ll go through many of her autistic characteristics, here’s a post detailing the headcanon and a medical article describing the diagnostic criteria in simple terms if you’re unfamiliar with the disorder. I understand that not everybody considers Britt neurodivergent, and that’s totally fine - I’m always up for a healthy conversation/debate! - but please give me a heads up if you plan to respond critically because a lot of this is based on my own experiences as an autistic teenage girl, so unmentioned critiques can feel personal fast. Now without further ado:

A Deep Dive Into Brittany S. Pierce <3

Auditory Processing Disorder “APD” is a subdivision of Sensory Processing Disorder “SPD” which is a quintessential element of an autism diagnosis. APD is pretty much exactly what it sounds (haha pun) like: despite somebody’s hearing abilities, the brain fails to process auditory input properly. The APD trait I hear discussed most in autism spaces is the inability to filter out background noises, but Britt seems to struggle most with interpreting meaning from words. Sometimes when people talk to me (“dolphins are just gay sharks”), even though they’re speaking clearly and I’m very literate in English, it sounds like jumbled nonsense (“dulfanz-our-goost-gae-shorcks”). This accounts for what I’m calling Brittany’s “so close you can taste it” lines. Think of her claim that Christopher Cross discovered America or that O is the capital of Ohio; a man named Christopher C. is indeed credited with discovering America and O is the only capital letter in Ohio. As a whole, they often misunderstand things told to them directly, and it seems a lot less foolish if she only understood half of what was being said via APD.

I’m calling the category of Brittany lines that can’t usually be rationalized as possible by anybody over seven (e.g. Rory the leprechaun, storks delivering babies, and anything with Lord Tubbington) the “stranger than fanfiction lines.” Now, I could take these at face value and say she’s tapping into a magical dimension, but I have my own set of autism driven realism issues, so, without a pre-existing fantasy world, I’m using my significant brainpower to twist Brittany into plausibility =D I ultimately think the best explanation for the stranger than fanfiction lines is echolalia. Echolalia is the repetition of words or phrases, and it’s usually associated with autism. Autistic people often reuse other people’s words, and since we usually think in pictures and have various social communication problems, it’s easier than formulating new sentences. Or we just like the tongue movements/sound a word makes. Personally, I quote songs a lot - if you say something loosely related to a Taylor Swift, musical, or Glee lyric, chances are I’ll sing it - and dipsomaniacal is a new fave to say randomly. There’s some evidence for Britt doing this in canon, unrelated to the stranger than fanfiction lines. While Brittany is known for calling him Blaine Warbler, it actually originated from Rachel and the infamous spin the bottle kiss. They also repeat ‘uber weird after Blaine in the That’s So Rachel reading, and the last line of that scene is them talking in time with Blaine, a behavior seen in S1 with Santana. However, it interests me most that she calls Artie a robot, as we see her dad call Stephen Hawkin, another wheelchair user, a robot in S6.

Basically, I blame the Pierces for how terribly adjusted their child is <3 (Mostly Whitney. Assuming Pierce actually has an IQ of 40, he’s disabled too and deserves some slack in terms of spreading misinformation.) In her admittedly limited screen time, Whitney manages to do two positive things: be an LGBTQ+ ally and let her younger daughter do soccer, I guess. Otherwise, she kept the truth about Stephen Hawking from Brittany for 20 years, cheated on her husband on their honeymoon for claiming infertility, crapped in random barns, insulted her husband’s intelligence, publicly insulted her husband’s appearance, and arguably restricted her daughter’s intellectual growth. To be honest, I realize Whitney isn’t that deep and I don’t actually hate her, but if people can hate Brittany for being a comedic character from the 2010s, I’ll do the same thing to their mother in defense of Brittany. Fight stop the violence with violence, baby! Anyways, I don’t think echolalia alone can explain the stranger than fanfiction lines. At least, not without a source. And that’s usually where upbringing comes in.

I’m ruling out nature automatically because there aren’t chromosomes telling people to believe in unicorns. Well, some people - including autistic people (hehe see what I’m doing here?) - are more inclined to believe falsehoods, but falsehoods have to be fed by someone else. With autism, the reckless believing tendencies come from literal thinking in part. Also, since SPD makes processing the outside world difficult, we often can’t recognize “obvious” truths in the first place. My extended family hated watching movies with me because I used to ask questions every five seconds lol. Setting Pierce aside because he seems to follow Whitney blindly; Brittany’s unnamed sister, Sue, and Whitney are the remaining suspects.

I assume Brittany’s sister is significantly younger than Britt because she played soccer with a seven-year-old in S1 (technically she could’ve been the coach, but that throws off my theory that the Klaine/Brittana wedding was child free), and children aren’t clever or mean enough to throw off anybody’s world view so badly :) Sue does seem the obvious answer, but she didn’t meet Brittany until they started high school, and she’s consistently baffled by Britt’s behavior despite encouraging her own eccentricities in the other Cheerios. And that leaves Whitney as the perpetrator, blaming her Scientology and gambling addiction on a cat.

Finally, I do think there’s a few times when Brittany intended for her jokes to be jokes. I don’t think it happens as much as you might expect, but there’s a scene in S3 when JBI is interviewing Brittany about her class president candidacy, and she tells him she’s voting for Rick “The Stick” Nelson before turning to Santana and laughing that clued me in. I think the mentality behind these lines (the “pun intended” category) is best explained with an anecdote from my own childhood.

When I was little - maybe six or seven - I really wanted to be funny. Well, I wanted to be liked, and since I didn’t understand social cues, my solution was humor because I knew my dad told jokes which made me laugh, which made him likable! Unfortunately, as a literal thinking child, I had no idea how to do this, which meant I parroted the only joke I knew (“What time is it when an elephant sits on the table?” “Time to get a new table!”) in hopes of chuckles. This went about as badly as you would expect. After a while, my parents got rightfully fed up with this joke and got me a joke book. I had no sense which of these jokes were funny, which wasn’t helped by most of the book being about taxes, bad marriages, and other stuff aimed at adults.

It wasn’t until a routine walk to the convenient store that my comedy dreams were fulfilled. My dad, little sister, and I used to walk to the “snack store” to buy a drink each and share a candy bar. While we had some routine favorites, we also tried out new candies together. However, there were a few bars my dad refused to buy because he’d disliked them prior to our snack store outings. Most infamous of these forbidden fruits was the Zero Bar. We tended to reference the Zero Bar when picking our next treat, and on this fateful day I said, “It’s called the Zero Bar because zero people like it.”

And my dad laughed. He laughed because of something I’d said. I was elated!

The only catch up was I hadn’t actually intended it as a joke. After all my attempts to be funny, the only thing that apparently worked was speaking my mind. This singular incident didn’t rewire my understanding of humor - I attempted the parroting tactic with the Zero Bar joke after all - but it’s the most pivotal moment in my mind. To this day, I play up my neurodivergent thought process to make others laugh. I reference Glee at seemly unrelated times with mock enthusiasm to callback times I’ve mentioned Glee with real enthusiasm or talk about my other interests in forced monotones.

There isn’t any actual evidence that Brittany has the same weird complex about humor, but some of their interactions regarding stupidity parallel it. In general, when they’re away from Santana, Brittany appears fairly insecure about her neurodivergence. I might even go as far as to say that she doesn’t joke without Santana around. Now, I don’t think Britt knows what her atypicalities are until they’re presumably diagnosed at M.I.T., but every neurodivergent person I know knew something was wrong before being diagnosed. (I want to talk about how Blaine’s diagnosed autism is a foil for Brittany’s undiagnosed autism at some point, but you didn’t sign up for autistic!Blaine, so now isn’t the time.)

Anddd, that’d pretty much it for now :) I intend to write more in depth Brittany meta in the future, but this is a decent overview for the time being. I hope this made you think, and I’d love to hear your thoughts if it did!

[namig42]

Alright, who's ready for some modern au Wyll lore?

Just One Yesterday (Ch. 5)

< Previous Chapter Next Chapter >

Read it on Ao3!

Summary: This is a modern AU where Wyll is a police officer and Astarion is a sex worker. Despite a problematic start, the two manage to find a connection and have it build in time into something more.

---

A knock at Mizora’s door. “Enter,” she said exhaustedly, not even bothering to look up from the document she was reading. Wyll entered her office and immediately shut the door behind him. Mizora looked up from her desk at the sound of the door closing. “Oh good, I was just about to send for you.”

Wyll stepped towards her desk, looking at her expectantly with his hands folded behind his back. “One of your arrests, a girl named Aurelia. She needs to be released immediately.”

“What? Why?” Wyll asked, baffled at the prospect. That was the opposite of the job she assigned him. Mizora looked at him sharply. “It is not your job to ask, Wyll. It is your job to obey.”

“Mizora, there’s something more important going on. Aurelia is part of a group that likely has ties to a massive human trafficking ring. If my theories are correct, then something needs to be done-”

“And that something is letting the girl go and leaving her and her group alone.”

“But that goes against the job you gave me! What is this?” Wyll slammed his hands on her desk, frustrated at this whole engagement. Mizora stood up and looked down her nose at Wyll. “This group you seem to be so invested in is none of our concern. You will look the other way and continue your job arresting minor, petty whores until Zariel is satisfied. Have I made myself clear?”

“Not until you give me an explanation,” Wyll countered, glaring at his boss. Mizora sighed. She raised her fingers to her forehead as if she felt a headache coming on. “Wyll, why must you be so obstinate? Are you a glutton for punishment?”

“I can’t stand by knowing that a group that’s enslaving people and trading their souls as currency is allowed to exist under our watch. I need you to explain to me why exactly you’re so complacent in all of this if I am to look away like it’s nothing.”

Mizora sighed again and stepped away from her desk to her window. The view from the top floor of the police station was nothing extraordinary. It overlooked a common market area in the outer part of the city, filled with stalls and vendors trading food, clothing, and art. She looked out at the unremarkable view and stared down at the people milling about the street like ants as she spoke to Wyll. “The business you worry so much about isn’t nearly as awful as you think. Only minor trading here and there, and of course everyone involved is consenting on the matter. The owner also supports our department a great deal, and would not be an enemy we wish to make with your prodding. There’s no need to be so dramatic about the whole affair.” Mizora waved Wyll’s concern away with her last statement like she was swatting away a bug. Wyll knew that the Szarr Corporation made a sizable donation to the police every year, only further confirming his theory that Cazador Szarr was the kingpin in all of this.

“If there is trading of people of any kind, how can they consent?” Wyll asked, standing up straight from his position over Mizora’s desk.

Mizora scoffed as she turned to face him. “Because sometimes, Wyll, people find themselves in hopeless situations and look to someone to lift them out of the hole they’ve fallen into. I’m sure you of all people understand that notion.” Wyll clenched his hands into fists, wanting to deny the accusation.

He couldn’t though. Mizora was right. That was how he ended up as her dog, after all.

“That day, when you decided that the lives of others were more important than your own, do you remember what you did?” Mizora asked as she stepped towards Wyll and began to circle him. Wyll lowered his head and closed his eyes, not wanting to relive that day.

“Yes.”

“And what is it you did?”

“I took your deal…”

“And you consented to it, did you not?”

“Your coercion and the circumstances didn’t allow for consent.” Wyll spat back, glaring at Mizora as she circled around him like a snake.

“But you did agree, didn’t you? You put others over yourself, decided there was no other way out of it, and now here you are.”

Wyll didn’t respond. He hated thinking of that day. The day that he ended up on Mizora’s leash.

It was back during Wyll’s first year as an officer, back when he was still in his teens and had both his brown eyes. There was a bomb threat in Baldur City in a large steel factory towards the docks. Some terrorists that worked under the name Tiamat had seized the building, ready to explode the factory and an entire chunk of the city. They had taken the workers as hostages too, and the one who called in the threat initially?

It was Wyll.

He had been out on patrol with a senior member of the force named Florrick that day, shadowing her as she patrolled the streets and was scanning for trouble. They had just pulled over a reckless driver by the Steel Watch Foundry building, and that’s when Wyll spotted something suspicious. He witnessed a strange interaction just outside the main warehouse where two men were yelling at a group of factory workers, giving them instructions in an unnecessarily harsh manner. The meeker members of the party were carrying an oddly shaped case into the factory, straining to lift the thing by hand. It was a big, cylindrical object that looked like it weighed a ton, but it apparently wasn’t so heavy that it couldn’t be carried by a few laborers. Wyll thought that it was simply a case of awful management yelling at their employees to move faster until he noticed one of the strange, angrier men pointing a handgun at the three workers carrying the unidentified object. Wyll tried to alert Florrick to the suspicious activity, but she had dismissed Wyll, focusing more on the ticket she was writing and checking the man’s license and registration. She had told Wyll to do the busywork for her in the car so that she could interrogate the driver further, but Wyll had an awful feeling about that factory and those angry men.

While Florrick was distracted with her own task, Wyll snuck away and hopped the fence surrounding the factory. Cautiously, he approached the door that he saw the strange group walk through, quietly made his way down the hall, and peeked his head around a doorframe. Wyll froze at the sight. Inside the large, spacious warehouse, a group of heavily armed terrorists were standing around a group of workers that were kneeling on the floor. The terrorists were dressed in black outfits, the most distinguishable feature of the uniforms being the black hooded capes they all seemed to have. The workers on the floor were shaking, a few of them in tears. In the center of the space, there was a piece of machinery that two of the terrorists were tinkering with. It was the same two men that had just been outside that were now pressing various buttons on the odd object Wyll had seen them carry in. From the amount of wires and the ominous sounds that came from the machine, Wyll realized that the object was a bomb. Not only a bomb, but one that was massive, enough to take out the factory and possibly some of the neighboring buildings with it.

He had to do something. He needed to help. Florrick wouldn’t listen to a young cop it seemed, but maybe someone higher up would. Wyll ran back outside and rounded a corner away from the entrance, then used his transceiver to reach out to his commanding chief. “What is it, Ravengard?” the mezzo voice asked, clearly annoyed.

“Chief Mizora, there’s a bomb at the Steel Watch Foundry, over by the docks. There are terrorists holding the workers hostage inside. Please send back up, it’s urgent.” Wyll spoke softly as he enunciated every word carefully. He couldn’t afford to be misheard when time was of the essence.

“I see,” the chief’s voice said softly. She sounded lost in thought before quickly responding, “well then, good work newbie. Standby until reinforcements arrive.” “Thank you, Chief Mizora.” There was no other response. Wyll moved back towards the entrance and stood watch outside the building, listening in to what was going on while waiting for the helpful glow of sirens. He stared out into the streets as he listened to the terrorists preparing their bomb. 

“How long until we’re ready?” Wyll heard a deep, gruff voice say.

“It’s about set, just give us five minutes and we can get the countdown started.” A shrill, nasally voice spoke. That same, shrill voice started to curse only seconds later, so hopefully that five minutes would be a bit longer. “How long will the countdown take?” That first deep voice asked.

“We’ll have about a minute before everything goes to hell.”

“Hmph,” the gruff voice said in acknowledgment. “We will see this through for Tiamat herself, just as she would’ve wanted.”

Wyll was terrified at the realization that this was a suicide mission for these terrorists. He wasn’t familiar with Tiamat, but he remembered hearing urban legends of the cult during his childhood. His father read him stories and mysteries as bedtime stories when he was small, and the cult of Tiamat was a fairly common topic because of their association with dragons and mysticism.

All he could do as of now was wait until reinforcements arrived, then leave the professionals to save the day. He was sure that an urgent team for a task like this could be here within that five minute window, hopefully even sooner if Chief Mizora had them already on standby. All Wyll had to do was wait and pray.

At least, that was the case until Wyll heard a woman shriek from inside the building. Panicked, Wyll ran into the entrance and peeked around the corner from the same spot he had observed the room from before. One of the terrorists, a scrawny, filthy looking man with a black dragon tattoo that wrapped around his left bicep, had grabbed one of the hostage’s wrists and pulled her up off the ground. With a hoarse sounding Cockney accent, he spoke. “They’ve served their job already, ‘aven’t they boss?”

A much taller, bulkier man that was observing the progress of the bomb preparation glanced over and spoke with that familiar deep, gruff voice. He stood tall and menacingly with his arms crossed as he looked down at his subordinates. “Do what you will. We are not long for this world.”

The scrawny one giggled a demonic laugh as he dragged the woman over by the wall and started to tear at her work uniform. She screamed and screamed, and Wyll couldn’t just sit by and watch it happen. Reinforcements would be here any minute now. He’d have back up soon enough.

Without much forethought, Wyll unstrapped his gun and pointed it at the scrawny man. “Freeze! Baldur Police!” He announced himself as he stepped into the room. The terrorists looked at him, unfazed by the boy who had just caught them in the act. Gods, there must have been more than twenty of them in the room, all spread out. The scrawny man stopped what he was doing and released the woman, raising his hands in the air slowly and casually. “Oh boy, boss, looks like they’ve found us.” He didn’t seem scared in the slightest. He sounded as if he was teasing Wyll, like he was no threat to their operation. In fact, all of the caped villains sneered at Wyll like he was a cockroach.

“Kill him.” That was all the boss said, not moving to uncross his arms or step away from the bomb preparations. He was unfazed, unbothered, and ready to complete their sacrificial mission. The scrawny one smiled as he pulled out a gun of his own, and Wyll began to fire. The first shot missed, the second shot missed, but the third shot hit the scrawny guy in the arm. The man dropped his firearm and crumpled to the floor, but that only sent the other terrorists into attack. They fired at Wyll, and Wyll had to run for cover. He escaped out the door he had entered from and hid around the corner, ready to attack anyone that may try to surprise him. He heard the screams of the hostages as they tried to escape the shootout, but the bullets flying by drowned their voices out. All Wyll could do now was hope for his backup to arrive soon and take over, and that the hostages wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire.

As he waited out the bullets of the terrorists, Wyll heard a voice in his ear. It came from his transceiver. It was Chief Mizora again. “Ravengard, what’s the situation?”

Covering one ear with his hand, Wyll leaned away from the bullet fire and yelled into the transceiver, “they’ve opened fire and are heavily armed! The hostages are in danger! I don’t know if they’ve activated the bomb, but I can only assume we have two to three minutes before it detonates!”

“Hm, I see…” Mizora said as if there wasn’t a terrible danger threatening the city right now. “How badly do you want to stop them?”

Wyll thought he misheard Mizora because of the ringing in his ears. “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, boy: how badly do you want to stop these terrorists?”

“By any means necessary!” Wyll shouted, as if the answer was obvious.

“Then I will give the order to the reinforcements to stop them on one condition: after today, you will work for me directly and perform any job I require. Deal?”

What in the hells? What kind of proposition was this? Why would Mizora bargain with the lives of innocents in such a dire situation? Wasn’t it the duty of the police to protect everyone, no matter what? Wyll wanted to save them all of course, but this deal felt too ominous. What choice did he have though? There was too much at stake, and no time to find a way around this new proposition.

“Alright, fine. Just please, stop this.”

“Mm, good boy. We’ll discuss the specifics of your new contract when you return to the station.”

Within a matter of seconds, Wyll heard a crash through the fence outside and saw three large, black vehicles rush onto the property. About fifteen people jumped out of the armored cars in full SWAT gear with black helmets that obscured any sense of identity and rushed inside the building. They ran past Wyll and began to fire back at the Tiamat members, killing every terrorist in the room. The opposing fire soon ceased as the terrorists dropped one by one, and when the shooting stopped, two of the SWAT members ran into the room to disarm the bomb. The detonation sequence had been activated during the shootout, and now there was only thirty seconds to disarm the device. Thankfully, Mizora had sent her best agents, and with ten seconds to spare on the clock, the device was disarmed and the room went silent.

“Oh thank the gods!” Wyll heard a hostage scream. Cheers from the workers soon rang through the echo chamber of a warehouse. They all looked to Wyll and shook his hand, thanking him for his service. Though Wyll was relieved to see that everything had worked out, he had a horrible feeling about what Mizora’s deal would entail for his future.

As the special agents led the hostages outside of the building, Wyll overheard the bomb specialists discussing the device. Apparently they had seen this type of device a few times recently. It was a newer type of bomb made with a dangerous new explosive called runepower, and it was highly combustive. A normal bomb made with gunpowder this size might destroy just the building and a few neighboring ones, but a runepowder bomb this size would’ve easily leveled a good ten percent of Baldur City. It was a good thing Wyll had discovered what was happening just in time, or else thousands of people would’ve been killed.

Though Wyll was proud that he had saved the city from such an immense threat, he wanted no involvement in the story as soon as he returned to Mizora’s office and was given his new contract. According to Mizora’s contract, Wyll was expected to listen to every command Mizora gave him, arrest whoever she desired without question, take any life she deemed appropriate by her standards, and do it all without ever letting anyone know of their arrangement. In exchange for his service, Wyll had full access to anything and everything he needed in the department. He could tell everyone that he had the chief’s orders to do as he pleased, so long as it served Mizora’s purposes. If Wyll was to break any of the contract’s rules or try to escape the contract without Mizora’s blessing, Mizora had full reign to punish Wyll however she saw fit. The contract would hold forever unless Mizora decided of her own will to break it, and Wyll had found himself signing his name on the dotted line as Mizora loomed over him with a devilish smile.

It only took a few weeks before Wyll found himself hunting down people who hadn’t seemed like complete monsters, but Mizora had assured him that they all deserved the punishment he was to administer. His sense of guilt only worsened with every mission he was given and every skeptical arrest he made, but Wyll had convinced himself that everything he had done had all been for the greater good of the city. Every villain he detained deserved what was coming to them. They were all murderers, drug dealers, thieves, and savages. They were the real monsters, not Wyll. Still, he knew that there was something wrong with this new role of his.

It was during those early weeks that Wyll pushed everyone in his life away. The most notable person was his father. Wyll was unable to tell him anything about these new circumstances, about Mizora and the role he was now forced to play. After a few months of the guilt and secrecy of it all, his father reluctantly threw him out of their home. He suspected that Wyll had ended up in a bad situation and could only assume Wyll was being quiet about it because he was doing something that he was ashamed of and morally wrong. The last words he spoke to Wyll before his only son walked out their front door were, “I thought I raised a good man, not an evil fool. I hope you learn that for yourself someday, Wyll.” After that, Ulder closed the door behind him, and a nineteen year old Wyll walked away from the only home he had ever known.

That was the day Wyll found himself all alone in the world, doing a devil’s bidding and justifying it all to save his own sense of peace.

Sometimes the monsters deserved their punishment and the jobs were made easier, but so many others didn’t deserve what came to them. The worst one, the job that haunted Wyll the most, was the rogue bodyguard of Zariel that tried to escape and Wyll was not to arrest, but to kill. She was a strong woman, tall and broad with arms that could’ve snapped Wyll in two. Wyll had followed her out of Baldur City and into the smaller, neighboring towns of Sword Coast County. After weeks of chasing her, Wyll finally cornered the woman in a cave on a hiking trail that she had hidden in. The woman tried to persuade Wyll and convince him that she was just like him, a good person roped into a bad situation, but Wyll couldn’t fight against his contract. He couldn’t allow himself to empathize with her. He saw so much of himself in this woman, but he didn’t have the guts like she did to escape the clutches that held him. 

“You’re a monster. You took innocent lives and betrayed the one you served.” Wyll had spat at her, trying to gain the courage to fire his weapon. It wouldn’t have been the first time he shot someone, but it would be the first time he ever shot to kill. “Bullshit! I never hurt anyone that was innocent! Look me in the eye and tell me if they look like the eyes of a monster, please.”

Wyll looked into the woman’s amber eyes, and all he could see was a reflection of someone who faced the same torment as him. Someone who just wanted to be free of the monster that ruled over them. Someone who absolutely wasn’t a monster, but a good soul that was forced to do evil things.

Still, he denied what he saw and aimed his gun at her heart. “I’m sorry, Karlach.”

With a heavy heart, Wyll shot the woman in the chest, and that was that. As the life faded from her eyes, Karlach looked at Wyll with disdain, and her lips tried to form a word that never made it from her lips. Wyll could tell though that she meant to call him a coward. When he returned to the city the next day, Mizora was pleased with his work, Zariel was satisfied, and Wyll was left with an all consuming void in his stomach.

Karlach’s face was the one that never left Wyll alone in his nightmares. He had tried to forget Karlach and that look of disdain as she died, but the pleading, familiar look in her eyes just before the gun went off still haunted Wyll to this day. That was the job that had broken him, that had pushed him away from his home for good, and that had left him feeling like he deserved nothing good in this world. He knew Karlach didn’t deserve the outcome she had, but Wyll had seen no other way around it at the time. All he could do was try to see her as a bloodthirsty villain that rebelled against a generous benefactor, but in his heart, Wyll knew none of that was true.

He was the monster.

He dug his nails into his palms as his brain reminded him of his greatest shame. He had been lost in thought as Mizora’s glare bore into him, waiting for a response.

“Answer me, Wyll: you agreed to our contract, didn’t you?”

With a heavy sigh, he finally answered her. “Yes.”

Mizora stepped around to face Wyll with a satisfied smirk, her face only a few inches away from his now. “As I have said, you will leave this particular group alone and continue on with your normal assignment of arresting these petty prostitutes. If I get any other calls complaining about you prying into the group’s personal affairs or that you’ve been engaging with any of their members, you will be punished accordingly. Have I made myself clear?”

Wyll wanted to spit in her face, but restrained himself. He couldn’t bear to answer her.

“I’m waiting, pet.”

“Yes, Mizora,” he growled, disgusted with himself.

“Good. Now, off with you, and be sure to release that Aurelia girl before you do anything else.”

---

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!

[reputayswift]

what do you think Suburban Legends is about?

I think it’s about having a tumultuous and undefined relationship with someone and putting up with red flags because you want to believe you’re meant to end up together. Basically this quote about Style:

This song is about those relationships that are never really done. You always [have] that one person who you feel might interrupt your wedding and be like, “don’t do, it ‘cause we’re not over yet.” I think everybody has that one person who kind of floats in and out of their life and the narrative is never truly over.

But she’s reimagining this relationship as a high school romance—as she’s wont to do!

Here are a few section-by-section explanations and parallels just for fun:

Note. Sometimes I use “Taylor” to refer to Taylor, the songwriter, and sometimes to Taylor, the narrator of the song. I’m not saying Taylor, the songwriter, experienced all of this literally lol 🫶

you had people who called you on unmarked numbers / in my peripheral vision

She’s noticed that the person she’s with often gets mysterious phone calls when they’re together, the “unmarked” implying he’s hiding the contact names from her because he’s pursuing multiple romances at once. (“I heard that you’ve been out and about with some other girl / he said ‘what you heard is true but I can’t stop thinking about you and I’ / I said I’ve been there too a few times”)

I let it slide like a hose on a slippery plastic summer / all was quickly forgiven

Here she’s combining the phrase “let it slide” (allowing someone to get away with something) with the imagery of a Slip ‘N Slide (a flat, plastic water slide you wet with a hose—usually for children). It was meant to be a playful summer romance with looser expectations, so she ignored the calls and didn’t demand exclusivity. (“August slipped away into a moment in time / ‘cause it was never mine” / “it was just a summer thing” / “no rules in breakable heaven but / o, it’s a cruel summer”)

you were so magnetic it was almost obnoxious / flush with the currency of cool / I was always turning out my empty pockets

Someone who’s “flush with cash” has all the wealth they could ever need. Someone’s who’s “flush with the currency of cool,” then, has endless charm that makes relationships easy to obtain and gives them access to anything they desire. In contrast, Taylor is “turning out [her] empty pockets”; the same charm that drew her in makes her feel insecure and inadequate beside him. A “flush” can also refer to blushing with embarrassment or attraction, further showing the effects of his charisma.

I had the fantasy that maybe our mismatched star signs / would surprise the whole school / when I ended up back at our class reunion / walkin' in with you

This is far from the first time Taylor has used high school as a metaphor for the gossip, pressure, and claustrophobia that comes with the spotlight: (“they whisper in the hallway, ‘she’s a bad, bad girl’” / “honey, life is just a classroom” / “you had it figured out since you’re in school / everybody loves pretty everybody loves cool”). High school classmates may question the compatibility of two people based on social standing (“currency of cool”) or zodiac sign the same way tabloids theorize how and when her relationship might crash and burn from the outside. The high school reunion represents an opportunity to show everyone who’s ever doubted her that they were wrong, that their love was fated and they fell back together in the end.

you'd be more than a chapter in my old diaries / with the pages ripped out

With Taylor’s diaristic writing style, she’s often accused of discarding partners and keeping the songwriting material. Again, this fantasy reunion would allow her to silence these detractors.

I am standin' in a 1950s gymnasium / and I can still see you now

A few possibilities here:

Being, physically, in an old gymnasium reminds her of this fantasy and her dashed hopes for their relationship

Taylor’s fantasy takes place in her high school gym, which was built in the 50s

Taylor’s fantasy takes place in a gymnasium in the 1950s, echoing the James Dean x Good Girl dynamic seen throughout 1989

I didn't come here to make friends / we were born to be suburban legends

Despite “let[ting] it slide,” she actually desires a defined, committed relationship. “Suburban legends” is a play on “urban legends,” which could refer to becoming the talk-of-the-town and/or a renowned power couple out of ordinary circumstances (“you and me, we’d be a big conversation”). However, the veracity of “legends” is often disputed, hinting that whispered rumors may be all that’s left of their love in the end. The use of “suburban” also supports the image of a small-scale high school romance.

when you hold me, it holds me together / and you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

Their chemistry is so strong she knows she’s doomed to always wonder when and if he’ll reappear.

tick-tock on the clock, I pace down your block / I broke my own heart 'cause you were too polite to do it / waves crash to the shore, I dash to the door / you don't knock anymore and I always knew it / that my life would be ruined

Again, she is placing the relationship in a “world that was one block wide,” where impromptu visits are a short walk away. Time is running out to define the relationship, and Taylor has resigned to call it off altogether knowing he’s content to string her along indefinitely. The past tense “broke” versus the present tense “dash” could indicate she’s already called it off and is visiting despite herself. The fact he no longer “knocks” (approaches her independently) confirms her fears that he’s losing interest and she’ll be left to wonder about and pursue him, alone.

[thezfc]

"I’ve always had a feeling Tom doesn’t actually take criticism very well in general. He’s probably one of those people who really just excelled at a lot of things all his life and throughout his career and then he got OVER THE TOP criticism for TS and especially the GG speech....

I think anon's right. He can't really deal with criticism and rejection. And when that happened for the first time in his career he curled in on himself and never recovered. He's been a different person ever since 🐍. Sometimes when I watch old stuff with the still confident Tom, it is almost painful to see how distanced he has become and how he now always looks a little afraid in public. I guess he has started to take himself and his brand too seriously at some point."

Everyone stop and give the crazy Zawe hero-worshippers the attention they're demanding, because someone screenshotted this and sent it to everyone's favorite Tumblr troll: drwhohiddles, and now those crazy fake fans are losing their minds over a couple of opinions they don't agree with, because apparently they never matured beyond middle school and thus never learned how to get along with those who disagree with them. And somehow they've taken the above and linked it to the "Tom is depressed" theory and ... racism against Zawe. Their ability to drag racism and Zawe into every internet conversation is truly impressive and I would admire this ability if I didn't feel so sorry for these people because they must truly lead sad, uneventful, and depressed lives to keep doing this constantly to complete strangers on the 'net. It's funny how they point fingers at us all the time for exchanging a bit of gossip about a few celebs, when here they are acting far worse then anything we've said on here. And can someone please explain what the hell Zawe has to do with the above mentioned because I'm still struggling to understand that leap. Also, I see nothing racist or derogatory towards Zawe in the above mentioned so again, I need an explanation here because I don't speak crazy. Zawe is a grown-ass woman who does not need you and your little gaggle to defend her especially if you're going to continue trying to defend her from something that is barely an issue because 99% of the fandom loves her, and the constant false racism accusations are immature and makes you look like the boy who cried wolf. Yes there are a few actual racists out there, but they are on Twitter and I'm pretty sure Miss ZFC has them blocked on here, so kindly crawl back into the hole from whence you came and leave us to our gossiping and theorizing. You should know what those things look like since you people do EXACTLY the same things on your own blogs.

I was going to delete this but then I decided to point out that you’re basically doing the same thing that they do and then yelling at them for five paragraphs about it. Just ignore it. I don’t care. I never look. Let them get all up in arms and their panties in a twist about every single thing that is said on this blog but you don’t need to go over that blog and then get your panties in a twist and come back over to mine and report it. So I’m posting this as an ask to all of you to not do this anymore.

Let’s pretend they don’t exist. Everything is better that way.

[iviarellereads]

Nona the Ninth, Chapter 21

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Slashed Third House icon)(1) In which we start careening toward the endgame.

We Suffer listens for a few more minutes, then throws her earpiece on the table. A lackey comes to offer explanations of Judith's disappearance, but WS dismisses them. Cam tells WS that went better than she deserved, and WS says that didn't go at all well. She believed Crown's promises. Crown even arranged for the headshot to be at herself, not at Ianthe, if she was found out. Then losing Deuteros and Pyrrha, WS feels doubly betrayed.

Nona says Pyrrha wouldn't betray them. WS starts to protest, but Cam suggests not making Nona angry. Nona is a little ashamed when WS hesitates. Cam suggests scanning the earring frequency for other active bugs in the same location. WS asks why, but Nona says Pyrrha just told them she was fine.(2) WS stares for a moment, but complies.

Nona walks over to Cam, and says she doesn't feel well. Cam gives her a big hug, and compliments her two-hand form when she had her tantrum. Nona says it was just like sword practice, but Cam says they practice one-handed. Nona pulls back and looks into Cam's eyes, once Pal's eyes, and feels something odd: a trickle of blood from her nose. Cam says she has to talk to Pal.

WS interrupts any hope of that by thumping the table and yelling they found another bug to tap into.

“It’ll be on Judith,” said Camilla, untangling herself a little from Nona. “Give them time. I knew the moment she brought Deuteros out. Pyrrha confirmed it. Nona was right. She gave us codes.”(3) We Suffer said intently, “What did she tell you?” Nona said, “She said to fall in—that it was safe—and I think she said she found a whole bunch of cigarettes.” We Suffer looked as though she did not understand, so she used a phrase she had often heard from the Angel: “I’m afraid that’s typical.”

WS asks if they can trust Pyrrha, and Cam says she's ninety percent sure Pyrrha's acting to get to the shuttle. WS accuses them of always planning to leave, but Cam says not without the hostages WS still holds.

WS says perhaps the game is not lost, then. Just precarious. They must proceed with caution. Cam says that's exactly opposite what they should do. This is so unlike Cam that both WS and Nona stare at her as she gives way to Pal who immediately asks for an update. Nona fills him in, and he tells WS who he is. WS is understandably skeptical.

“Look, it doesn’t matter,” said Palamedes. “If you prefer to think that Camilla’s got a psychological condition and sometimes flips her entire affect for no obvious reason, please believe whatever you find most comforting. The point is that there are some things you don’t know and I’m the one best placed to explain them. Listen. If we can get the body of Gideon Nav—the key to the Locked Tomb—out of that barracks, will you give us the Sixth House?”(4)

WS says for that, she would give almost anything in her power. Pal says that wasn't the question, and WS agrees to the condition. So, they get down to planning. Ianthe is constrained by her distance-puppeting of Babs, so they have her in the corner, but she has Gideon Nav and Pal can't begin to guess why Ianthe brought her. Still, WS needs her for the mission, and Pal thinks he needs her to save Nona from dying.

We Suffer suggests a strong attack, but Pal talks her around to a sneakier approach: Ianthe gave them an excuse to bring Cam in, and Pyrrha's already in place.

Then, Pal's time is up, so he tells Nona to tell Cam everything. Then Cam's body leans forward, and sits back up, and Nona says Pal told WS everything. Cam doesn't know why she bothers, but this convinces WS that it wasn't a pantomime. They agree to the terms discussed, though Cam adds that they'll want to keep the shuttle. We Suffer asks that they bring a package anywhere-but-here if they go. Cam refuses to accept a metaphor. WS almost begins to explain, but Pyrrha's voice rises in the bug feed.

Pyrrha and Crown are arguing about not trusting each other. Crown asks why they're dressing Gideon up and wheeling her around like a doll. Pyrrha suggests asking Ianthe. Crown complains, too, that they keep it locked up, and Pyrrha says it's a trap. Crown suggests leaving Judith's care to her, but Pyrrha is skeptical of this and threatens that Judith will be a corpse if Pyrrha finds Crown alone with her again.

At this, Crown laughs and Ianthe, distant from the bug, asks what the joke is. Crown explains about Judith's sedatives and condition, and Ianthe says she told "him" (Pyrrha) to keep Crown away. Crown gets mad, and Ianthe says fine, allow her. She wards Judith, to keep her unconscious a while yet.

Then, Ianthe tells Corona to come and talk with her a while.

"That’s a hint to make yourself scarce, by the way, Duty. God, how to refer to you? We’re going to need to give you a nickname to differentiate. What did Harrowhark used to always call you? Tortoise? Blorgus?" Pyrrha’s voice was cool. “You cut slits in her brain.” Crown said, “You pardon?” “Long story. Very funny. Come and hear it,” said the third voice. “Let’s lock this door … I don’t want Deuteros crashing the party, sweetheart.”

Cam has written a whole page of notes, and WS asks if that exchange meant anything to her. Cam asks Nona what Pyrrha's nicknames for her are, and Nona lists Kiddie, Junior, Small Fry, Cutie Pie, Li'l Bits, Small Cam, Hairy Maclary, Nums, No-No, Nope, None, Sweet Nons, Nona-Palona, and The Big No. Cam says Pyrrha ought to be arrested,(5) but alright.

WS asks again what Cam has, but Cam ignores her further and asks Nona to look at her. Cam touches her forehead and says she's running a fever. Nona says cheerfully that she's dying, but she's got whole days if she doesn't "do anything stupid", at which Cam asks if Pal knows. When Nona says yes, Cam gives her a suspicious I'll-talk-to-your-mother-later face and says Pyrrha thinks Nona is the key to what they want, but Nona will have to be brave. Nona volunteers to do anything.

Camilla smiled at her. For that smile Nona would have lived, if she had had any say in the matter. She did not answer, but said to We Suffer: “How long until sundown?” “You have over eight hours.” “Can you get the Sixth House by then? Can you get me some materials right now?” “As you promised me, so I promise you—I will devote every resource I have to the attempt. Tell me what you need.” “A pair of scissors,” said Camilla. “Iris dye.” She looked at Nona’s button-up shirt, which was unbuttoned to show the T-shirt underneath. “And the blackest clothes you can find.”(6)

=====

(1) Why the slash? Ianthe is fine. Corona's heart may or may not be broken. Or perhaps, Corona is realizing that she had a life outside of Ianthe, for this past almost year and a half, and perhaps there's hope of more, and the Third House princesses are experiencing their own schism. Or some other thing I'm not accounting for, feel free to share your thoughts in the replies! (2) The code words! "All clear" with a side of "important resource, come help me extract it", which Nona interprets as cigarettes later because that's all she's seen it used for. There might even have been extra code words just between Pyrrha and Cam/Pal in there as well. (3) Extra codeword, or revealing via reverse psychology on Ianthe? Ianthe is primed to be contrarian and do the opposite of what "G1deon" (Pyrrha) asks anyway. Suggesting killing Judith would both provoke Ianthe to save her, AND tell Cam she's important. And admittedly, Pyrrha didn't say a lot of words to convey meaning with. (4) Note that phrasing. He doesn't say they'll give Gideon's body to the BOE, only that they will get her out. (5) What a set of nicknames, honestly. Pyrrha missed her calling at naming things. But, I assume she's also been leaving encryption ciphers this way. (6) It's time to become Harrowhark Nonagesimus.

[house-of-slayterr]

Long rant about “trauma dumping” lol

I just watched a video that was the perfect example of the Internet watering down useful terms. The example was “trauma dumping” which any person with a brain will agree isn’t a great thing to do. But even when someone is actually trauma dumping, their internet is not usually malicious. You can correct them, and move on. Mistakes happen. Awkward situations happen.

The example in this video was a streamer acknowledging a specific chatter he’d noticed had been absent. He called attention to her and specifically asked “where the fuck have you been?” Which is already a pushy way to ask that type of question. He instigated the parasocial relationship here. And she answered honestly saying a simple “my mom died” and he fucking blew up on her, calling her a “bummer” saying she was “not using etiquette”, swearing, and basically insinuating she was a horrible person for answering a question he asked. And for 20 mins + a further response video he dragged her through the mud and repeatedly accused her of “trauma dumping”

Saying “my mom died” or “my husband left” or “my house burnt down” ISNT FUCKING TRAUMA DUMPING!! Those are just statements, facts.

Yes, sometimes these statements can be used to fish for attention, sympathy, pity, etc… but that wasn’t the case here. She never asked for sympathy, she simply answered his question and tried to move on. If he didn’t want an answer that wasn’t bubbly and upbeat, he shouldn’t have asked. Anyone who’s been on the Internet for a while knows that usually if someone disappears suddenly for a long time without explanation, it’s typically not a sign that things are going good in their life.

Like it’s rare someone’s just gonna hop of the internet for two months and be like “lol I was on vacation” because if it was good news, you probably would have heard about it.

There’s a huge difference between saying “my mom died” and trying to move on, Vs saying it repeatedly, or going into graphic detail, or continuing after someone asked you to stop. Those ARE trauma dumping. And there’s a time and a place for that.

But someone saying something that’s outside of your happy go lucky view of the world isn’t trauma dumping. Especially not if YOU asked them for said information. Don’t get mad at someone for answering your question in a way you don’t like. That’s not their problem, it’s yours. A simple “that sucks” or “I’m sorry” or even if he wanted people not to say that news “I’m sorry, I wish you the best, but please don’t discuss stuff like that here” would suffice.

Now on to the Neurodivergent part of this rant…

Can we please for the love of god stop just throwing around phrases like “how are you?” “What’s been up with you?” “Where have you been?” Like they mean fucking nothing?

Neurotypicals always say how were inappropriate, or rude/blunt, or confusing or don’t understand social cue. Of course we don’t fucking understand when you social cues are literally fucking bullshit built on a lie.

If you don’t want me to answer the question honestly, why the fuck are you asking? They say they do it because it’s “polite” but what polite about prying into a strangers life?

For example, I get this question A LOT working as a barista. And people have even complained to my boss about it, despite me wearing a very obvious “Autistic” pin right under my name badge. And I know they can see it, cause they read my fucking name to complain about me.

I only ask “how are you?” To my regulars, because I care and I want to know. And they care and want to know back.

But do you know how many times (it’s usually people 40+) customers will walk up to me, and I’ll greet them with a friendly “hi, what can I get started for you today?” Because that’s my comfortable scripted line I’ve prepared to efficiently move them along. And they respond by rolling their eyes, giving me attitude or saying shit like “IM GOOD HOW ARE YOU?” In the condescending baby voice? It’s infuriating and infantilising and I hate it.

And because I don’t want them to have the satisfaction I just repeat my question. We could have had a pleasant interaction if you just did what you came here to do, which was order coffee, not ask about my day when you clearly don’t want an answer. You created your own bad experience.

Most of the time, after I have gotten their cup in line so it can be made quickly and not get them upset, I’ll ask questions after. Business first, casual conversations second. 90% of the time I’ll compliment something about them, or be like “good drink choice, it’s my favourite” but they won’t even let me get there naturally in the flow of conversation. Why is your way right in my way wrong?

I hate giving fake answers like “good” or “I’m doing well” cause it’s such a waste of time. In that time, you could already have your drink starting to be made. I work in FAST food, I don’t have time for your “pleasantries”.

I always end with “have a great day” cause we actually required to say it. And most of the time I fucking mean it, because I want people to have a nice day and enjoy their coffee we just made them. But to go behind my back and complain is asinine, childish and out of order. What are we, fucking primary school children? Don’t go run off to the principal cause I don’t play the way you wanted me to. I didn’t ask for that.

This quickly combines with the “customer is always right” bullshit. Because they expect you to be nice to them, despite them being rude and disrespectful to you first. Like you started this, and you’re gonna stand there and finish it, or you’re gonna leave. Don’t drag this out and make everyone miserable because you’re deluded enough to think you get special treatment.

People also complain that everything I say sounds sarcastic because I’m “too cheerful” you’re just being ableist. That’s just want my voice sounds like when I’m doing my job. Would you rather me dead pan and be like “that the fuck do you want?” Because those are your only options. Either you get nice me who’s genuinely trying to help you cause that’s what I’m being paid to do, or you go somewhere else where people will treat you the way you expect to be treated.

Like that’s not something that’s just programmed into everyone and it’s foolish to think it is. You set this standard for yourself. You can’t instantly get mad when you haven’t communicated the issue first in a polite manner. How the fuck am I suspend to know you want me to ask about your day, when the guy behind you would rather shoot himself then have me ask him for anything but his order? I’m not a fucking mind reader, and me trying to do my job isn’t “rude.”

This has been bothering me for a while cause I deal with this every fucking shift for the past 2 years. My boss just had to yell at an old coworker in the big store (I work in a kiosk within a store so they aren’t my direct coworkers, but we do function in the same building) who came to visit and was apparently talking shit about me and another coworker. Because we didn’t meet her impossible high, un-communicated standards. My boss was just like “they’re fucking autistic and you’d know that if you payed attention” and basiclly told her to never come to our shop again. And as for the coworker she was complaining about (while I don’t necessarily like this person for many reason I won’t go into) wear a giant fucking “I have social anxiety, please be patient with me” pin. I know they can see it.

We’re trying out best and making fuck all! And you know non of these people have ever tipped us. Or even been nice to our faces. Then they wonder why we frown when they come over and aren’t excited to see them. You fostered this reaction with your constant and blatant distaste, we’re just reacting cause we’re human beings. Don’t expect us to smile at you when you’re being mean. I hate people sometime I swear!

@oceansrose2002 @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @myers-meadow this happened at least 5 times today. I wasn’t even there a full shift.

[electricbluebutterflies]

jessica reorganizes the library, leto decides to keep her company

Choice-era, PG-ish, also on ao3.

It is for the best, Jessica decides, if she develops some harmless eccentricities.

A project in some relatively neglected part of the complex will do. The library is… possibly haunted, from some of the rumors she’s heard, but so are all of her other viable options, and at least there was nothing morbid in there last time she looked, and-

No one has actively paid attention to the space in decades. It’s perfect.

If she were in a different mood, she’d accept this for the nesting instinct that it is, pregnancy hormones already starting to throw her off-balance and… oh, she won’t let that become anyone else’s problem, she can’t, but-

Might as well be productive. Might as well direct these emotions in a direction that won’t bother anyone too much.

Presumably, at some point, some masochistic idiot from some long-snipped cadet branch of the family must’ve made a detailed record of what’s where, all these unnecessary paper formalities turned prized relics; presumably, that person has been dead for decades if not centuries and didn’t bother to leave an explanation of their organizational system anywhere findable, but Jessica is understimulated enough to start looking and if not she has thoughts on how she wants to do this, if not-

She’s fated for madness one way or another, she’s starting to suspect. Might as well get it over with before her son is born.

Endless minutes of sorting through drawers gives her nothing useful beyond a suspicion that nothing interesting has ever been left here and the annoying discovery that a few of her partner’s ancestors had questionable handwriting, so she decides she might as well start with… oh, from the looks of it a few people have tried to organize things here, different sections with different logic, some make sense but whomever tried to color-code had something wrong with them and-

Her frustration turns to pacing, one two three four five six twirl, and this project is going to take years if she actually does anything with it, and she won’t have that kind of time in a few months, she won’t allow herself to have that kind of time, she won’t-

She wonders what kind of life she’s bringing this child into, really. Ignore the cosmic details of it all for a moment, ignore the fact that she has rebelled as dramatically as possible… it’ll still be better than her own childhood, if that word ever applied. At least her son will always know love. At least-

The door opens, and she twirls a step earlier than she otherwise would, and this better be important or else-

“You’re here.”

Jessica is trying to be a better domestic partner, so help her, but the eyeroll is instinctive. “That’s… surprising?”

Her partner has comforting defaults too, an expression she’s learned to interpret as equal parts fascinated and concerned. “That you’re either that bored or that desperate to avoid someone or something…”

“First option,” she murmurs, taking a few steps closer. “I can’t eavesdrop all day.”

“Guard mentioned you’d wandered this way and I wasn’t sure…”

“You’re always so sweet when you’re not sure what you’re accusing me of.” Almost playful, almost normal, almost-

“Not where I meant to start, but should I?”

She adores him, she thinks sometimes, this man who understands some of their boundaries but not all of them. Affection even when he isn’t sure which side of the line they’re on, and she knows she’s the only person who can see through to the uncertainty otherwise hidden so well, all these secrets she keeps for the both of them and-

“I am just physically miserable enough to stay out of trouble. Nothing to worry about.”

“Usually when you say that…”

“Nothing anyone could prove,” she finishes, because she has to, because one more layer of her perfection. “But not since…”

“I wouldn’t have thought that a change in condition would be enough to limit you.”

“You have no idea what I’m feeling right now.” Another eyeroll for emphasis, and this would be more fun if they were closer but the physical distance may be for the best. “Too much effort to stay functional. I’ll be back to my normal adventures in six months and you’ll miss me like this.”

He glances away for a moment, like he’s well aware that there is no appealing response that won’t end with him sleeping alone, like-

“I’m not sure this… whatever you’re doing is an improvement.”

“I’m organizing,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Or at least that was the plan, but I have to figure out the logics of at least three different past attempts first and-“

“That matters because…”

“Curiosity. Keeps me out of trouble. Isn’t that what you want?”

He’s quiet for almost a few heartbeats too long, quiet like-

“Is it alright if I stay?”

“You’re that bored or desperate to avoid someone?”

“Why do you always assume-“

Enough with this distance, Jessica decides, taking a few steps forward and putting her hands on her partner’s shoulders. “Because it’s been accurate just often enough to make me think-“

“Not avoiding anyone,” he murmurs. “But concerned you’ve been avoiding me.”

Well. That’s a new one.

She hasn’t, she wants to say, at least not consciously, she’s just… trying not to be any more difficult than she has to be, in these few remaining months of relative quiet before all chaos breaks loose, and bracing for the potential end of the world takes energy she apparently doesn’t have midway through a pregnancy that’s just overwhelming enough to make sure her son will be an only child, and-

“You’d know if I was,” she says, and it would be so easy to lace her voice with a little of her power to make her point and she wonders if this might be a good enough exception to her personal rules. “I’m talking to you. I’m touching you. Does that look like avoidance, love?”

“I can never tell with you.”

She leans in and takes a heartbeat of a kiss. “Does that, then?”

“If I say your affection worries me even more and I can’t figure out what you want…”

“Do I have to want something?”

“You usually do.”

In a different mood, it would be easy to escalate this into a fight she might even win; in this one…

“I am trying to give calm while I still can,” she murmurs, and she knows how perfectly that sounds like programming she’s gotten better at fighting but it’s still real. “While we still-“

“I don’t understand why you think our child is some harbinger of-“

“That explanation is so far above anything you’d ever understand and I’m not even trying to-“

“You still did it. I know you have enough power to… prevent such things. Some part of you clearly believes that whatever fate you’re scared of isn’t inevitable, and-“

“More like some part of me is too deeply in love with you to care,” she breathes, and there it is, there is her recklessness put out into the open, there is everything she should be ashamed of and-

Her partner shifts his body around hers, arms around her back to stabilize her, always this space for her, how quickly he learned to handle the rare occasions she displays emotion and-

“Do you trust me?”

“How can you ask such a question when I-“

“Please. Answer.”

“More than anything.”

“Then trust that we will find a way, together, whatever happens, whether your paranoia is accurate this time or…”

She wants to. She wants so much. She’s not sure one ordinary human man could ever be enough to protect her, but the thought is so tempting and-

“Is it enough to say that I will try as I can?”

“More than I expected you would,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against the side of her face.

“You have such little faith in me?”

“More the opposite, but I do think I know you, and-“

“And I still have the power to surprise you whenever it pleases me,” she finishes. “Understood.”

There is no need to talk for that, no need for anything but the comfort of an embrace and an understanding that the outside world can wait and-

They’ll find a way. He’d sounded so confident. Maybe she can learn to believe.

[heldtogetherwithstring]

Merlin Spotify Playlist

I've had a Merlin Spotify Playlist for a while, so I figured I would post some of the songs and their explanations here! There are currently 124 songs, so I won't be doing all of them unless someone requests some more. Hope you enjoy!

I'll Never Forget The Time I Spent With You - The Lathums

A lot comes to mind with this song. Of course, the finale is the most obvious one in terms of the lyrics of this song, but I imagine Merlin feels this a lot. With all the friends he has lost along the way and all the ones he outlived, Merlin likely spends a lot of time lost in the memories he has of those he couldn't save. But there is one line here that reminds me of the theories around The Once and Future King, with Arthur recognising Merlin's eyes and saying a variation of "Do I know you?" every time he meets Merlin or one of his aliases. "I won't forget the time I spent with you. Before we'd even met, I've spent a lifetime with you."

Burn the Witch - Shawn James

This song reminds me a lot of Morgana, for obvious reasons. But it also reflects what some of the magic-users during Uther's reign would have felt as they were tied to the stake. Despite the burning being a horrifically negative thing, there is something profound that must be respected in the way that the artist sings of not giving them the satisfaction of hearing him scream as the fire is lit.

Battlefield - SVRCINA

This song reflects both Merlin and the Knights. Arthur spends a great deal of time in the series fighting in battles and later on planning and leading them. As the Crown Prince and a respected Knight, Arthur has a great deal of pressure on his shoulder, especially with Uther as his father. Like when Arthur half-heartedly expressed the wish to go off and be a farmer leading a simple life, Arthur wants to get rid of the pressure and responsibility sometimes. But since he could never give up Camelot because of his love for the kingdom and its people, he continues on despite the pain. As for Merlin, though he is not a Knight and the majority of the characters would not recognise him as a warrior, spends a lot of time with life and death in his hands, forced to play a godlike role in his responsibility as Emrys.

Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls

This is the second song on my playlist. It's on a lot of my other playlists since my parents listened to it, and the lyrics fit Merlin perfectly. We all love some Merlin angst, and the lyrics of this song can be interpreted many different ways.

And I'd give up forever to touch you 'Cause I know that you feel me somehow You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be And I don't want to go home right now

This makes me think of Arthur in Avalon, and Merlin's immortality. Arthur is the closest Merlin will ever get to heaven, and I imagine in the present day he longs for the 'horseplay' and causal affection Arthur gave him.

And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am

The chorus is just so Merlin. He tells Gaius he thinks he is a monster, and he is terrified of his friends finding out he has magic and condemning him for it.

Liar - The Arcadian Wild

I sense there’s trouble ahead. It’s clear by the signs and warnings that should tell where all blame is due. So why are they pointing at my head?

There are a lot of plotlines that involve Merlin being under suspicion for things he didn't do, the most obvious one I can think of being when Gwen in the later seasons accused Merlin of poisoning Arthur. Merlin was arrested and all of his friends, the people he guarded with his life, believed he had tried to kill the one he loved.

‘Cause I’m not in a right state of mind. I just wish I had strength to admit it. My stubbornness will put up a fight, but I don’t deserve to win it. I’m left in the dark pondering my mistakes, but in the light I swear I will deny it all.

Merlin pushes himself to do better all of the time, and especially in the later seasons he tears himself apart mentally, on top of the trauma he has lived through.

[turtle-trash]

Different anon but essentially, you looked at Black people using aave: African American vernacular english, having fun on a post and decided it was OK to screenshot and imply they were all hostile people, or using "cruel" language. It's racist to assume Black people having fun on a tournament poll(which people have been actually cruel with) are threatening just because you are not familiar with the language. If you can recognize that White women refer each other as bitches and sluts out of familiarity and friendship you need to extend that kind of understanding with other languages(yes aave is a language). If you personally do not feel comfortable using such language, thats fine, but thats how other people talk you cant control that. But it goes to show that you guys need to stop stealing aave just to make yourselves appear more threatening or angry or as an interntet joke. Because nonblack people steal it so much you guys have desensitized yourselves the ability to recognize when actual Black people are just being friendly. Case in point: your "my brother in christ" post? The original phrase that white people stole to turn into a meme was "my n*gga in christ". Hence why we ask you guys to stop using "my brother in christ" memes. But even then the original phrase still means "friend". N*gga is a slur, but Black people can use it to refer as "homie" or "friend". Yall can't. Context matters. And now we are at the point where people are accusing the polls to be botted which hate to tell yall it ain't that important. Someone brought this up but if reylos didn't care to bot these things why would anyone care for two characters hardly anyone knows. But other than that, the constant association of equating Black people to bots on this website is racist and its annoying that keeps on happening. That's not even how bots work. You truly want to work on being a better a person, go learn this stuff: research. I can't even blame the other anon that just sends you a "you're just racist" message. I had the time to send this. But more often than not yall drain us because every day with this stuff. You feel exhausted through this experience alone? Imagine going through this and the racism everyday in every fandom space when you just wanna have fun. You gotta put in the effort yourself sometimes

Ohh Kay give me a sec. I need to process this (i don’t do vry good with long blocks of text with no spacing. Apologies)

When I posted those screenshots I didn’t know that the people who said those things were black, I’d try to defend myself on this but I know that I may say something wrong since I’m really bad with words. All I was trying to do was inform the op that the cruel words could have started again. I think one of my mistakes was making it public, as i didn’t expect me doing that would have spread that much (I don’t exactly have a very big presence on this site)

The reason I assumed the language being used was harmful is likely due to my inability to read tone over text, not an excuse, just an explanation. I will reiterate that my issue was with the fact that people (no matter who says it) were referring to a character who’s a child in that way

Ive already gotten a message about my use of the "my brother in Christ" phrase, I’m already removing it from the phrases I use occasionally. I try to keep posts that I’ve messed up on to not try to erase my mistakes, I think it’s good to be transparent about the mistakes I’ve made and I see I’ve failed in that department [not trying to excuse my actions or anything, I’m just attempting to state what I’ve done wrong]

I didn’t say that botting was happening anywhere, I don’t think there was any botting happening. I’m not quite sure where the statement that people think that black people are bots came from in regards to this situation (since I didn’t even mention the potential of botting anywhere except my post saying I want to try and distance myself from this situation for my mental health iirc. And even then I didn’t say the poll was botted)

I understand if anyone is uncomfortable with how I handled anything these past few days. I know I should see if I can find anything to try and better my understanding of this (which I should probably do before I somehow forget, apologies, my memory isn’t very good sometimes)

Im not sure how to end this in a good way but thanks for letting me know, sorry for making you guys feel uncomfortable

[truckreincarnation]

Rising Stress | Miles | Trial 1.3 | Re: Theophania, 19, Perry, others | ATTN: 19, Theophania, Amber/Mascots

Dear fucking god, ever since the last thing Miles had said, after purifying the paper and showing the room… practically immediately, all hell had broken loose. Shinjuku had come out of the gate yelling, to which Miles had flinched at, before attempting to calm himself, but the following things from most others certainly hadn’t helped. In particular, Miles glanced beside him at Theophania with a look of… distinct disappointment at a lot of what she says to 19 before he shifts to looking down at his desk instead. 

And people keep talking, and talking, and accusing, and all the while it keeps feeling harder to breathe for Miles. Everyone - or almost everyone - seemed like they just kept focusing on 19. Blaming her, making assumptions, pointing fingers. It’s both hard for him to hear and hard for him to consider, but the ultimate result is just yet more stress. 

It takes him awhile to finally get his breath back just enough to even think of speaking, though his heart continues to pound in his chest. 

“First, I… I don’t know what the truth is, I don’t know what times are correct or wrong. But I… believe 19 that she might have trouble reading analog clocks like this, and it seems… a little unfair to just assume she must be lying about that. She’s told me before about not being able to be in school very often, and I know she isn’t lying about… things like not being able to read very well, since I was trying to help her just the other day with it. Not… everyone has access to full education, so it’d be… kind of… presumptuous to assume everyone does.”

“If… you were really just confused, though, then in… my world, and I assume most of ours, there were multiple types of clocks, including both the ones with faces you have to tell the time by the hands of just being one of them called ‘analog clocks’, as well as ‘digital clocks’ that just show the time by itself with only the exact time. Reading analog clocks is… also something taught in school, usually. I’d… assume 19’s world to be the same as mine, in that. It’s also… notably possible that some people can read an analog clock only slowly and with difficulty if the time is taken to, and mistakes can sometimes still be made sometimes.”

He’s truly trying to give Theophania and everyone else trying to tear in to 19 about not being able to read the clocks the benefit of the doubt, just as he’s trying to give it to 19, but… the insults, disbelief, and petty tones back and forth really aren’t helping his stress, here, or the discussion, he feels. Maybe the extended explanation of analog and digital clocks had been unnecessary, though.

He does give a glance across the room to 19, uneasy about her own barbed words, but… Still, he wasn’t going to let that stop him from speaking up at least a little bit more, hard as it might have been.

“I’d also like to… at least verify that 19 originally told my investigation group about her testimony before the trial as well, and maybe clarify some things that… people are assuming. 19 told us that she had asked Francis when she came into the training grounds if she could make 19 some food, and Francis said no. Then… she said she was practicing with her new Axe and didn’t pay attention to what Francis was doing other than that she was messing with some weapons.” 

“It was… me who asked which section of weapons she thought she saw her at, and I think gave her the idea that Francis was the one who took the weapon. So I think she was just… making an assumption it had to have been Francis that took them at the time, because of my questions, because she admitted she wasn’t paying close attention by then. I’m sorry if that caused confusion.  She also said both ‘11 or something’ as when she left and ‘11:15 or something’ was when she first got back to her room then too, which… I assumed was just an estimation. A lot of her other times seemed like estimations too, so it… wasn’t that weird.”

That said though… he turns his gaze to 19 again, directly addressing her this time after steadying his breathing.

“I’m not sure… how exactly you would even be able to clear yourself, and I think it’s… a little unfair to make you, since sometimes there just isn’t… proof like that that exists. So instead… if there’s anything more you can… say about… if you think 11pm might have been a mistake on your part, or if you’re sure and… think Bian has to be lying or mistaken about when she came in, or… some other option, can you say that much, maybe…? Or… just if you don’t know at all. Just… knowing what you think more clearly might help, that or otherwise.“

He feels awful for the possibility that despite everything everyone was saying to her, that 19 wasn’t the culprit, and equally fearful that she actually was. Neither possibilities were good. NO possibilities were good, when someone was going to be sacrificed over this, or when someone had already died apparently planning to kill someone regardless. 

And then, he takes deep breath, in then out, as he turns his attention towards Amber.

  “A… Amber? Can I get… a clarification on the rules regarding… taking out more than one weapon? Before you said that ‘The only time you are permitted more than one weapon, at the moment, is if you are planning a murder’ in our investigation, as an exact quote. Kali also told us… ‘If they don’t go through with it, Amber takes them back.’ And I know… from experience that if you try and take something not checked out or allowed to be checked out, it gets taken away by you with vines.”

“So if… someone already committed a murder, however it was that it happened, and thus were no longer planning one… would they be allowed to check out another weapon afterwards, if they still had ones left out, used in the murder or not?”

“Because… even if it seems likely that Francis was the one who checked out all of the swords, we still… need to figure out if it was… the culprit or Francis who took the Gun out, or a separate culprit, given the… the different handwritings, even if they both looked forged. And… both Bian and 19 have checked out weapons after that, too. Bian… with her scythe at some point before the discovery of Francis’ body, and 19 with her axe after it in the investigation.”

Presumably, everyone should be able to see that 19 is indeed still hanging on to her newly checked out axe, here. And finally, Miles looks to Perry with a nod at some of her words too, as well.

“I… also agree with Perry actually, I’d… like to know how it was that you knew what Francis’ domain was, Theophania, and if you know any extra details. Since… Francis was the only one of us in our first ‘event’ that didn’t have their domain or domain skills read out like the others.“

“Would Amber or… Kali also be able to verify what it was that Francis’ domain was like Perry said, and maybe… also what it was their domain ability was? If… you’re allowed to tell us. Or if… anyone else might have heard about it from her.”

Well, they’d certainly told OTHER people what their powers or passives were in that first event, so… hopefully asking for this much would get them something, to know whether or not it was relevant to this case.

Having said more than enough for the time being, and certain that people will only start to argue either with him or around him now, he closes his mouth and decides to just… listen, for now, slowly rocking himself forwards and back.

[kath-artic]

.

wellthat all went in exactly the direction i thought it would and i still couldnt quite tell you what happened. she accused him of cheating on her and it turned into a whole big blow up. she’s had that angry energy around her all day, i knew this was coming. it feels so sickening knowing a fight’s coming. i tried to keep it together but when i went to go get something to eat she cornered me in the kitchen and started asking me “why am i going to be made out to be the bad guy in all of this?” and i just collapsed and sat there for an hour. there’s no answer i can give to a question like that because shes already assuming i have an opinion or that my dad has turned me against her when i haven’t talked to him at all. what i WOULD say if i knew i could is that my opinion only extends as far as i know that when she gets mad at him, she takes it out on me. my dad has never done that. me and my dad have fought before and he’s said stupid shit to me and done really really irresponsible stuff, but he’s never laid a hand on me and he’s always apologized and always reassures me that he loves me and i KNOW i can bring up any problems i have with him and he’ll actually be receptive. he’s not always the best dad and sometimes he feels more like a friend than a parent, but i’m never afraid that he’s going to hurt me (he might GET someone hurt by doing something stupid, but thats another story). my mom has hit me, told me she hates me and that i’m embarrassing, told me she doesn’t care that i was assaulted because she had it worse, and then denies it all when i bring these things up to her or deflects by saying its my dad’s fault she was so angry in the first place. when emotions are high, i KNOW my dad is the safe option. thats why it seems like i’m always on his side. when it comes to this situation specifically, my opinion is that there’s a pretty simple and innocent explanation for everything that i’ve been made aware of today, but i can see how the evidence she’s drawn together could point to the conclusion she’s coming to it’s just not enough for me to say “oh yeah he’s cheating for sure. go team mom.” i dont know enough to “pick a side” or whatever it is she wants me to do. she kept cominginto my room and asking me for my opinion and i just kept trying to tell her i dont have one, but to her that means i’m on my dad’s side and that he’s been influencing me so she started dumping all this dirt on him to me--how is that not influencing me?? i want to tell her that i honestly have no opinion because i will never know the truth and any information i get from either party would be “influencing” my opinion while also being impossible to confirm. there is no truth for me at this point. i don’t want to know it.

its not that i dont see her side either. i do see it. ive entertained her reality where every emotional outburst is the result of being worn down mentally to the point of there being no other choice and then having those outbursts be used to make you seem like a crazyperson to the point that even your own daughter struggles to believe youre being abused after watching you get pushed to the ground. but then i remember that the time my dad pushed her, he did it to stop her from punching me and that she stumbled and fell because she was drunk. i remember every scheme she was convinced my grandparents (her in-laws) were plotting against her that turned out to be completely baseless. in times like this where she demands that i pick a side, i remember that she’s my mother and that our relationship is fundamentally unbalanced and that these are not issues i should be made to weigh in on. she’s my mom, not my friend. i shouldn’t have to be doing this devil’s advocate shit.

above all else, i remember that night i called the cops on her because it really shifted things for me. i ran through the woods barefoot and crying to meet with the cops and to beg them not to arrest anybody because my mom was threatening to call the police on my dad for pushing her. i tried so hard to be honest and impartial, i told them yes he pushed her, but he did it to protect me and yes she fell but i dont know if he pushed her to the ground or if she stumbled because they both are claiming different things, but i can’t have my dad go to jail for protecting me. i remember the cop looking at me and telling me that it sounded like i was the victim in all of this and it stopped me dead in my tracks because i forgot i was even involved in the whole thing. i forgot that the whole fight centered around me in the first place because i was so caught up in the fact that my mom and dad were the ones fighting. i’d spent so much of my life being made to think of these things as an issue of whose side i was on that i never realized i could be on my own side. i shouldnt have to protect them. thats their responsibility. there are a lot of things ive done for them that shouldve been their responsibility.

tldr i have no patience for this “truth” shit anymore when it comes to family matters. i’ll always love everyone in my family, but i’m not on anyone’s side unless i have a concrete reason to be. everyone’s a faulty narrator, but i will love and believe so far as i am able to. at the end of the day, these are the people that were supposed to take care of me and i owe it to myself to at least take on that responsibility if they wont