#give that bitch some regression

[oifaaa]

It's funny how opinions can change over time for instance I used to want Bruce to be a good parent but then I realised how fucking boring that is to read at the end of the day comics are soap operas and I'm here for the drama

[jamiethebeeart]

:D (I ramble in my tags about this)

[thatnoulguyorsomething]

I was thinking, violence can work, but it can also backfire horribly. Unfortunately I don't often get the choice of what to do in those situations (either because other people escalate, or because I am more busy doing damage control), but, since I am already perceived masc and arab (iow people always assume violence from me anyway), I have found that it has a much more threatening effect to be as calm and to-the-point as possible (but still maintaining the same point - ie, making the "only good * is a dead *", standing up a couple steps in front of the guy, and just staring him down).

Again, generally good advice, but situationally dependent. The bit about "diversity of tactics" was very relevant, and that also requires an understanding of the tactics and their applicability.

Some very eloquent notes on violence as a necessity for resistance.

[kisshim]

i’m telling you this country is heading in a downward spiral until we’re back in 1935

[tinylilacbun]

Saving Him

Summary: You save Rafe from being attacked by Groff, getting hurt in the process.

Pairing: daddy!rafe x little!reader

Warnings: age regression (briefly at the end), hand injury, blood, knife, cursing

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The bike comes to a stop near a well and Rafe waits for you to get off first before he slides off as well, taking off his goggles and you do the same.

You cough, your throat burning from the sandy wind and lack of hydration, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

Rafe stands in front of you, placing his hand on your arms he lowers his head to meet your eyes. "You good?"

"Mhm...just thirsty." You rasp and he turns to Groff.

"Get some water." He demands and you all walk over to the well, only to realize there's no water in it and Rafe sighs. "Don't worry I'll get you something soon, yeah?"

You simply nod, going to sit on the edge of the well while Rafe talks to Groff.

"Tell us about this crown. What is it worth? Street value, rough estimate." He crouches down in front of you with a hand on your knee he points a finger at the man you don't trust at all, having had a bad feeling about him the whole time. "This shit better be worth our time. Do you understand?"

"Oh, it's worth a fortune." Groff states. "It's one of the most sought-after relics in the world. Owned by Caesar, hunted by Napoleon, said to grant wishes and make the bearer indomitable."

"Holy shit! Holy shit!" Rafe curses, standing back up straight again to face Groff. "That wasn't even close to answering my question. What is it worth?"

"Hundreds of millions."

Rafe purses his lips, almost scoffing. "You're full of shit."

"Am I?"

"Hundreds of millions." He repeats. "Wait I- what, you got a buyer or something?"

"Yeah, I got a buyer." Groff answers confidentially.

"Where?"

"Ever been to Lisbon?" He smirks and you scoff at the way he talks as if this whole situation isn't bothering him. That he screwed Rafe freaking Cameron over 400k.

Rafe smiles, approaching him. "Look at you, Groff. A'ight. Always got a plan. Well, you screwed me and my girl. And then you lost my money to those mercenaries, a'ight? So now you're gonna be my bitch."

You smirk at that, that's your man right there.

"And if you're lucky, I give you a little taste on the back end, okay?" He continues, leaning a little closer to whisper so you can't hear. "If I let you live."

On Rafe's demand Groff rolls out the map beside you, showing you both how to read it with the strange necklace thingy that shows things you can't see on the map.

Rafe hands it to you so you can take a look as well and you gasp that it actually works, now this is something you'll rub in his face whenever he says magic is not real, your little self beaming at the sight and begging to make a remark. "That's crazy..."

You give it back to Rafe, not listening how Groff talks about how the crown gives power, only lifting your head when you see him pulling something out of his pocket in your peripheral vision.

Suddenly Groff lungs at Rafe and you instantly react before Rafe even gets the chance and push him to the side just as Groff wields the knife.

You yelp when the knife cuts the inside of your hand, taking a few steps back to clutch your wrist, hissing in pain.

Rafe hurriedly gets back on his feet and takes control of the situation, seeing how Groff now balances himself to not fall into the well behind him, giving him a little nudge to make him fall backwards.

Groff's yell has you sighing in relief momentarily, knowing he isn't a bother anymore, seeing how Rafe leans over the edge.

"HA HA! CHECKMATE BITCH!" Rafe screams.

You whimper, screwing your eyes shut tightly and trying to blend out the stinging pain in your hand, starting to sniffle. "Daddy..."

Rafe turns at the sound of you crying for him, rushing over to you. "You idiot. C'mere let me see..."

You yelp when he takes your hand. He examines the injury and your bottom lip quivers at the amount of blood, the scent of copper penetrating your nostrils. "Hurts..."

"I know, I know. Come, we gotta wrap it up." He shushes you, leading you back over to the bike.

He rummages through the sidecar for anything that resembles alcohol, luckily finding a small bottle together with a rag and unscrewing the cap of the bottle he grabs your hand again. "A'ight, this is gonna sting...here bite into my arm yeah?"

He pushes back the sleeve of the jacket and the shirt he's wearing, lifting his arm to your mouth so you can bite into it which he knows you most definitely will.

"Okay, one, two-" he pours the alcohol over your hand without waiting to three, knowing it would hurt a little less when it's unexpected.

You bite into his forearm with all your might, a loud whine escaping your throat, your eyes shut tightly again.

Rafe doesn't even wince, continuing to disinfect the wound thoroughly all the while soothing you with assuring words.

"There we go. All over, you're so brave, I'm proud of you..." He murmurs, pulling his arm away from your mouth he wraps the rag around your hand, tying it securely to prevent any more blood loss.

You're still sniffling, burying your face in his chest. "M'sorry...had to save you, daddy."

Rafe sighs, wrapping his arms around you he kisses the top of your head. He's actually so fucking proud of you for your courage but he's also mad that you got hurt only because he let his guard down for a second.

"Don't be sorry. Everything's okay." He says, pulling back to look down at you. "Let's go get this crown."

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[naturesapphic]

Billie’s friends making fun of little gf reader making her cry but she doesn’t tell Billie until one day she overhears what her friends are saying💖

Bullies

Caregiver!billie eilish x little!fem!reader

Warnings: age regression, hurt/comfort, Billie’s friends being mean, bullying, Billie getting angry but not at reader

Billie’s new friends were coming over today and you were not excited whatsoever. They made fun of you and your age regression which obviously made you sad and cry. Billie didn’t know about any of this happening and you didn’t plan to. Even though they were being mean and making you cry, you didn’t want billie getting mad at you for thinking you were lying to her or maybe she would agree with them and leave you.

You were overthinking every possibility and it all ended badly so you decided to keep your mouth shut and just let them say whatever. You were playing in the living room when they came piling up in the house with Billie laughing behind them. “I’ll get us some snacks and drinks. Do you want anything babygirl?” Billie asked you with a smile. “M-mys juice pwease mama…” you said quietly as you didn’t wanna talk in front of her friends. “Good girl for using your words! I’ll be right back.” She said happily as she disappears into the kitchen, leaving you alone with her friends that were giving you smirks.

“Awwww your mommy gonna give you some juice?” One of them said in a high pitched voice making you whimper under your breath. “Yeah, I bet it will be in a little sippy cup.” Another one chimed in as they all started to laugh and point at you making you turn your head to ignore them. “Hey! Didn’t your precious mommy tell you not to ignore people when they are talking to you, inconsiderate bitch.” One of them snarled at you and you quickly looked up to see them all smirking at you. “I don’t know why Billie is even with you, if I was her, I would spit in your face and leave immediately. You’re such a freak.” One spat out and you felt yourself sobbing in the middle of the living room with them laughing at you.

“Call her a freak again and see if I don’t come over and kick y’all’s asses.” Billie said sternly as she comes into the living room with your sippy in one hand and snacks in the other. “Mommy!” You gasped in surprise but she didn’t look your way just yet, not wanting to scare you with the look on her face. “Get the fuck out of my house right now.” Billie said coldly as she sets down the snacks and your sippy cup on the nearest desk that was near her and she walks over to you. Billie stands in front of you as her old friends all get up, them getting scared as Billie looks like she was gonna kill them. “B-Billie I promise it was all a joke. Right y/n?” One of them said and they gave you eyes that said “you better not fucking rat us out” but you shook your head instead, then they started glaring at you which made billie more pissed.

“You guys are fucking pathetic. You guys know I trusted y’all with this and you guys seemed so understanding about it. Now I can clearly see that y’all are not and you had the balls to make fun of my girlfriend AND make her cry. Leave my house and never fucking come here and contact me again.” Billie spat out and they all rolled their eyes and left the house, leaving you and Billie alone. Billie looked down and saw your tear stained face and she immediately lifted you up in her arms. “It’s okay babygirl. Mama is here now.” Billie said quietly as she holds you close to her as you clung onto her like a koala. “You won’t have to see them ever again.” She reassured you and you nodded your head against her chest. “How long has this been happening sweet girl?” Billie asked you gently and you shyly hid in the crook of her neck.

Billie frowned and rubbed your back “it’s okay baby. I’m not gonna get mad at you. You can trust mama.” She said and you shifted and looked up at her with sad eyes. “E-evers since w-wes tolds dems a-abouts I-it’s…” you stuttered and you felt Billie hold her breath in. “That was a four months ago baby…why didn’t you tell mama?” She gasped quietly and looked at you with sadness in her eyes. “S-scared…Nu wan chu to lose chu friends.” You said and Billie leaned down to give you a long kiss on your forehead. “Babygirl. I don’t wanna be friends with people who make fun of you and make you cry, you understand me?” She said looking in your eyes and you nodded your head slowly. “That’s my good girl. Now. Do you wanna sit and watch some cartoons with mommy?” She said happily and your face beamed up at her. “Wes Pweasie mommy!” You bounced in her arms which caused her to laugh. She carried you over where she placed down your juice and snacks and gave you your sippy. You immediately grabbed it and thanked her as you started sipping on it happily. Billie carried you back into the living room where she sat on the couch, with you still in her arms. She grabbed the remote and turned on one of your favorite movies and you leaned back into her while drinking your juice. As you watched, Billie was looking down at you with pure love and adoration in her eyes. No one was gonna mess with her baby ever again when she’s around.

A/n: hey guys! Glad to be back, gonna try and post more and get out all these requests so I can get prepared for Christmas so I’m excited. Thank you for the request anon and I hope you all enjoyed! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all! :)

[partyinthecloudkingdom]

L + ratio + gay and lesbian were slurs at one point as well + feminists have been reclaiming words like bitch for decades + you should really learn what reclaiming something means before you compare queer to the n word + second wave feminists didn't put in the work reclaiming bitch in their activism for keyboard warrior terfs to say that didn't happen + do some reading

@seabuni What’s wrong with my post? Why do you think it’s racist? Just trying to educate myself here.

Edit: I’ve just seen that the original reblog was made by @partyinthecloudkingdom so now I’m curious as to what you both think of my post and why you think it’s so problematic that you thought it was a good idea to screenshot it in order to dismiss me. I’m so excited to see what shitty response you can come up with.

[neyafromfrance95]

i know i have talked about this already, but there is not much else to talk about at this point and i still can't get over how much ick s2's finale gives me when it comes to galadriel's storyline.

everyone except for sauron invalidated galadriel's trauma and treated her like a burden in s1, then they shamed and humiliated her in s2. and it all could have had a good narrative reason... if it hadn't led to a really sexist conclusion.

the whole narrative of the good guy who slut-shamed her "fixing" her, resulting in her putting down the sword and putting on the dress instead? yikes...

i love galadriel's characterization in trop. she is a perfect blend of feminine + masculine. saying this could get me crucified but i think she is much more queer-coded than sauron is; in a way that i can see her being nonbinary-coded. she is gender-nonconforming! she is abrasive and proud and a leader!

and this makes the insinuation of that ending all the more painful - from being this authentic, complex character to being... a tradwife to be.

she did not actually turn into a tradwife ofc. now that would be a real blasphemy against tolkien, lol. as galadriel was always a leader first and foremost, never defined as a wife/mother. but narratively, it felt like that was what happened.

some people will say that it's her transformation, that she must learn not to rely on her sword, yada yada. and sure, it can be a character development. BUT! in what direction? they have to be very careful with this direction if they don't want it to come off as a regressive and bio-essentialist "embrace your inner divine feminine, woman" conservative propaganda. it can be done if they lean into "the witch galadriel" arc.

and man, it's somewhat a similar case to killing eve. one reviewer of ke's finale said that women live their lives told to sit still, be accommodating, be self-sacrificial, and there comes a point in their lives where they have to decide if they are going to conform to all that even if it's inauthentic to who they are. villanelle recognized eve's darkness (which really was her authentic self) and wanted to nourish it. so the framing of eve "surviving" villanelle and being cleansed of her "darkness" felt wrong to many.

in many ways, that's how trop s2 finale felt to me. it's so interesting how haladriel's dynamic turned out subtextually. sauron saw galadriel's trauma, her darkness and yet he alone saw galadriel's greatness in her authenticity, and offered her authority - something that all others stripped her off of. yes, he stabbed her (and villanelle shot eve, btw), but told her that he would make her into an overlord of the universe at the same time, lmao.

worst of all, it doesn't make sense legendarium wise - galadriel is going to continue being a leader; yeah, she is not going to be as abrasive, but she will grow into a stone cold bitch (affectionate) instead; she is going to have a push-pull dynamic with sauron till he evaporates. so what was all that supposed to mean? i do believe they catered to the whiny "make galadriel tradwife again" crowd, and maybe inserted a mormon propaganda where it's the most misogynistic in its' message.

anyways, i still have my fingers crossed that they redeem the story direction in s3 by dismissing the undertones of s2 finale. or else it would really leave a sour taste in my mouth.

[kaydens-agere]

🦄Wade W. Wilson/Deadpool Agere Headcanons and Moodboard Pt 1⚔️

*just a note, I started writing these before Deadpool 3 came out, so all of these are from the first 2 movies, I'll do updated DP3 ones at some point ^^

GENERAL INFO -Has always had a regressed headspace of some form (he had a shitty childhood so it checks out)

-His age range is all over the place, so he doesn't really have a specific range. He's around 7 or under most of the time, but can regress into his teenaged years.

-Also a pet regressor, he regresses to a puppy and a unicorn (duh).

-Started regressing a lot more after he gained his superpowers. The process was super traumatic for him, so his brain needed to regress more often to compensate.

-Still loves hanging out at Sister Marget's, Weasel has tried to kick him out many times, but he refuses to leave (mostly so Wade can get on his nerves, he likes doing that regardless). Most bar visitors know about him being a regressor and they're all chill with it (and even if some aren't, they don't say a word because they know that Wade and his friends can and will fuck them up). Weasel will give him some colouring in to do, but he likes to do self portraits of him flipping people off (charming /sarc).

-Refuses to let go of his unicorn. It was a big comfort item for him when he was actually a child. It brings him comfort when he's big, but it really comes to the surface when he's little.

-He somehow swears even more when he's little, he thinks its funny when the adults laugh or give him a look of shock. Even while he's little, he loves getting attention.

-Loves to host tea parties with his caregivers, he'll tell them all the gossip that's going on between his plushies. "Yeah! Rainbow Dash is being a really big bitch and-" "Wade!"

-He's literally a pretty princess. He has one of those mini princess themed vanities that he does his make-up at, and sometimes he'll do other peoples makeup (sometimes willingly, but he forces them most of the time). He also has a lot of princess dresses and loves to play dress up.

FRIENDS, FAMILY, ETC -Very sweet around Vanessa. He puts up a tough facade around others when he's small to make them laugh, but that disappears around her (not entirely though, he's still Wade). He loves to cuddle up with her. She was the second person he ever told (after Weasel) and she was incredibly accomodating and accepting. She was always sweet and caring towards him, but knew when to put her foot down if she needed to. She was literally Wade's perfect caregiver.

-After Vanessa died, he pushed it off as much as he could. It was too painful to be small without her. He finally started regressing again after he got comfortable with his new family. (this one is inspired by @genderfluideadpool)

-Weasel was the first person he told about his little space. He didn't understand it whatsoever at first, but after a lot of talks from Wade and witnessing it enough, he finally understood. He may tease him for it a bit, but it's all in good fun and Wade doesn't mind because he knows that Weasel accepts him. He doesn't have a lot of time to take care of Wade properly, but he tries his best when he can. If little Wade is sitting up at the bar, he'll serve him a giant glass of strawberry milk while he colours. They still have their playful banter, but it's altered depending on how old Wade is.

-Dopinder absolutely adores little Wade and deep down he's extremely happy and grateful and he felt comfortable enough to tell him about it. If he's taking him somewhere, he'll play things like 'I Spy' to keep him entertained. In headspace, he likes to call him "Tiny Pool" and "Baby Pool", he loves seeing the gentle blush that forms across Wade's cheeks when he calls him those.

-Colossus has known about Wade's little space for a long time. Although they haven't always got along, he tries to be there for little Wade when he needs to. He tries to make sure that he's fed and hydrated sufficiently, and in Wade's words, he can give a mean piggyback.

-Although Negasonic can be rude and sarcastic to Wade at times, she tries to be nice to him when he's little, she understands that he's more sensitive and vulnerable and knows that being rude to someone in the mindset of a traumatised child is crossing the line. She's not the most responsible though, she loves to help him plan pranks to play on the other X-Men, which they find amusing (even Colossus, who struggles to hide his smile as he scolds them)

-Yukio is extremely sweet and gentle to Wade when he's little. She's good at calming him down if he's extremely overwhelmed or upset. She'll do some breathing exercises with him and talks to him in a very soft voice. It reminds him a lot of Vanessa, and while it was painful to hear at first, he eventually got used to it and finds it very comforting. She's usually the first one to join him when he colours (in case you couldn't tell, he loves colouring in)

-Domino found it very endearing. She's extremely educated on the topic and will gladly beat someone up if anyone treats Wade's little side badly. Like Yukio, she likes to play games. But she plays the more active ones like tag and hide and seek. She's good at getting all of Wade's energy out, which comes in handy when it's bedtime and he's running up and down the halls screaming.

-Much like Weasel, Cable didn't understand it at first, but after a lot of talks from Wade and the team, he accepted and understood it. He always goes soft around little Wade, he likes to carry him around and say silly things to make him laugh (Negasonic has a photo of this as blackmail because he refuses to show his soft side around anyone)

-Russell kinda poked fun at him at first, but after a very, very long talk, bordering on lecture, from Colossus, he apologised to Wade and reassured him that he won't judge him anymore. He's kinda awkward when Wade is on the smaller side, he's not exactly sure how to interact with little kids, but when Wade's in a teen mindset? You best believe they're running around the mansion, stirring shit up constantly.

I definitely needa do a part 2 for these, I have so many headcanons for him floating around in my brain

Image Creds/Where I found them ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️

[gojuo]

this show went from aemond killing luke (who took out his eye) to purposely killing his brother, because of some drunken joke.

Aemond embarrassed him at the council by also speaking Valyrian fluently and Egg could barely complete a sentence, they were even!

kill a sibling and and not feeling the slightest bit of guilt He takes aegon's dagger and walks away casually as if it wasn't his full brother dying there) about it is something only the worst of the worst would do such as gregor clegane, euron greyjoy and ramsay bolton. it's sick..nothing like stannis and maekar who killed their brothers but had no happiness about it

even daemon targ didn't dare try to kill viserys wtf

we are doomed. we expected complexity between aegond and we received and we received an attempt at fratricide and regicide 😭

It's just not even remotely an interesting or compelling or sympathetic character arc or motivation to me, sorry. I didn't care for Aemond in the book, I loved him in the show out of spite, now I'm back to not caring about him bc this is just not the type of character whose development, whether it be a progression or a regression, I enjoy following. My bridges are burned 😬

Side note maybe but I've noticed how it's Daemon that's getting the sympathetic portrayal concerning his family over his narrative foil Aemond, which, in my opinion, is another aspect of the Greens Condal is taking away and giving to the Blacks that I've been harping on about in posts and tags everywhere lately.

The greatest of his rivals was Daemon Targaryen, the king’s ambitious, impetuous, moody younger brother.

Fire and Blood, p. 354.

As King Viserys had no living son, Daemon regarded himself as the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, and coveted the title Prince of Dragonstone, which His Grace refused to grant him…but by the end of year 105 AC, he was known to his friends as the Prince of the City and to the smallfolk as Lord Flea Bottom. Though the king did not wish Daemon to succeed him, he remained fond of his younger brother, and was quick to forgive his many offenses.

Fire and Blood, p. 355

Thus did matters stand in King’s Landing late in the year 105 AC, when Queen Aemma was brought to bed in Maegor’s Holdfast and died whilst giving birth to the son that Viserys Targaryen had desired for so long. The boy (named Baelon, after the king’s father) survived her only by a day, leaving king and court bereft... save perhaps for Prince Daemon, who was observed in a brothel on the Street of Silk, making drunken japes with his highborn cronies about the “heir for a day.” When word of this got back to the king (legend says that it was the whore sitting in Daemon’s lap who informed on him, but evidence suggests it was actually one of his drinking companions, a captain in the gold cloaks eager for advancement), Viserys became livid. His Grace had finally had a surfeit of his ungrateful brother and his ambitions.

Fire and Blood, p. 359.

Prince Daemon was not amongst them, however. Furious at the king's decree [naming Rhaenyra heir], the prince quit King's Landing, resigning from the City Watch. He went first to Dragonstone, taking his paramour Mysaria with him upon the back of his dragon Caraxes, the lean red beast the smallfolk called the Blood Wyrm. There he remained for half a year, during which time he got Mysaria with child. When he learned that his concubine was pregnant, Prince Daemon presented her with a dragon's egg, but in this he again went too far and woke his brother's wroth. King Viserys commanded him to return the egg, send his whore away, and return to his lawful wife, or else be attained as a traitor. The prince obeyed, though with ill grace, dispatching Mysaria (eggless) back to Lys, whilst he himself flew to Runestone in the Vale and the unwelcome company of his "bronze bitch." But Mysaria lost her child during a storm on the narrow sea. When word reached Prince Daemon he spoke no syllable of grief, but his heart hardened against the king, his brother. Thereafter he spoke of King Viserys only with disdain, and began to brood day and night on the succession.

Fire and Blood, p. 360.

After Mysaria lost her unborn child, Daemon hated Viserys. He had no love for his brother anymore and began his grooming of an 8-year-old Rhaenyra to get closer to what his biggest wish in life was: the Iron Throne.

Notice how this is not him in the show but Aemond now? The bullying + brothel plotline to make him hate Aegon is not there in the book. In contrast, Aegon, Aemond and Daeron together actually hated the Strong bastards and none of them, especially not Aegon, were friends.

The sins of the fathers are oft visited on the sons, wise men have said; and so it is for the sins of mothers as well. The enmity between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra was passed on to their sons, and the queen’s three boys, the Princes Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron, grew to be bitter rivals of their Velaryon nephews, resentful of them for having stolen what they regarded as their birthright: the Iron Throne itself. Though all six boys attended the same feasts, balls, and revels, and sometimes trained together in the yard under the same master-at-arms and studied under the same maesters, this enforced closeness only served to feed their mutual mislike, rather than binding them together as brothers.

Fire and Blood, p. 377-378.

It was Viserys actually who hurt Aemond over being dragonless, NOT Aegon.

Only the middle son, Prince Aemond, remained dragonless, but His Grace had hopes of rectifying that, and had put forward the notion that perhaps the court might sojourn at Dragonstone after the funeral. A wealth of dragon’s eggs could be found beneath the Dragonmont, and several young hatchlings as well. Prince Aemond could have his choice, “if the lad is bold enough.” Even at ten, Aemond Targaryen did not lack for boldness. The king’s gibe stung, and he resolved not to wait for Dragonstone.

Fire and Blood, p. 380.

Aemond in the book was also never characterized as lusting after the throne like Daemon was. He's always been presented as a staunch supporter of Aegon's birthright.

One-eyed Prince Aemond, nineteen, was found in the armory, donning plate and mail for his morning practice in the castle yard. “Is Aegon king?” he asked Ser Willis Fell, “or must we kneel and kiss the old whore’s cunny?”

Fire and Blood, p. 397.

The greatest danger was deemed to be Storm’s End, for House Baratheon had always been staunch in support of the claims of Princess Rhaenys and her children. Though old Lord Boremund had died, his son Borros was even more belligerent than his father, and the lesser storm lords would surely follow wherever he led. “Then we must see that he leads them to our king,” Queen Alicent declared. Whereupon she sent for her second son. Thus it was not a raven who took flight for Storm’s End that day, but Vhagar, oldest and largest of the dragons of Westeros. On her back rode Prince Aemond Targaryen, with a sapphire in the place of his missing eye. “Your purpose is to win the hand of one of Lord Baratheon’s daughters,” his grandsire Ser Otto told him, before he flew. “Any of the four will do. Woo her and wed her, and Lord Borros will deliver the stormlands for your brother. Fail—” “I will not fail,” Prince Aemond blustered. “Aegon will have Storm’s End, and I will have this girl.”

Fire and Blood, p. 400.

“You must rule the realm now, until your brother is strong enough to take the crown again,” the King’s Hand told Prince Aemond. Nor did Ser Criston need to say it twice, writes Eustace. And so one-eyed Aemond the Kinslayer took up the iron-and-ruby crown of Aegon the Conqueror. “It looks better on me than it ever did on him,” the prince proclaimed. Yet Aemond did not assume the style of king, but named himself only Protector of the Realm and Prince Regent.

Fire and Blood, p. 437.

I know people like using this passage as evidence that Aemond wanted the crown, but this is the only sentence that insinuates such a thought in the entirety of F&B, and it then also gets shots down immediately in the next sentence after. People can yap about how Aemond knows he can’t do or say anything as long as Maelor is alive, but when this one sentence—which gets rebuked pronto anyway—is the only evidence you have for that headcanon vs. Daemon who in the text explicitly and repeatedly is said to want to throne and hate his brother, then it’s just not a supported notion in the text or subtext at all.

That “‘Tis I the younger brother who studies philosophy, history and swords etc. etc.” is also nowhere in the book. This second son complex is just a show invention that used to be Daemon’s in the book now given to Aemond in the show, because of course Condal wants Daemon to be far more sympathetic in the eyes of the audience through exploring his love and guilt towards his brother and Rhaenyra with the Harrenhal hallucinations, rather than Aemond, whose actions snowballed into Blood and Cheese and who has a far better character arc lying in wait if that love and guilt he feels towards his brother post-B&C had actually been his.

Show!Aemond is such a wasted character, really. They had so much potential in him becoming an unhinged, murderous psycho falling into impatiency (reason for leaving KL and Cole unprotected) and mania (reason for carpetbombing the Riverlands) because of the immeasurable guilt he feels for what his actions have caused his family (Kinslaying!! The greatest sin in Westeros!!! Blood and Cheese!! ASOIAF’s most atrocious event that kinda happened because of him a little bit!!!)... And yes, it’s not a justification but it’s a reason for why he would do such monstrous things in the book because that’s just how a young, 19-year-old, emotionally volatile, new-to-the-horrors-of-war Targaryen prince with access to nukes would act like once he’s wholly consumed by the guilt of Blood and Cheese and war and the failure at Rook’s Rest and his brother’s disability therefore he’d become unable to face his family anymore culminating in what’s basically his suicide above the God’s Eye... His obsession with facing Daemon could have been because he feels like he has to redeem himself towards his brother for kinda being the cause of Jaehaerys’ death... but Ryan Condal does not want the viewer’s focus to stay on Blood and Cheese or else that would mean negative feelings towards Daemon and Rhaenyra are validated, and also the Greens can’t love each other and care about each other or how else can Condal portray them as fuckups unworthy of positivity so that the viewer does not get attached to them or root for them? Blood and Cheese and Jaehaerys have practically been forgotten by the Greens and the show by now. Nobody cares anymore! How many times has anyone even said his name? Uggghhhhh.

That love and loyalty the Greens feel for each other was, of course, all propaganda 🙄 Daemon in the book got his somewhat redemption through saving Nettles at the cost of betraying Rhaenyra, so fuck Condal for switching him and Aemond around and fuck Condal for cutting Nettles in order to whitewash Rhaenyra some more. And then stealing the love and loyalty the Greens had to the family and giving it to the Blacks. Ugh.

[physalian]

How to Keep your Insecure Character from Becoming a “Nice Guy”

Or Nice Girl

The very last book I will have beta’d for the foreseeable future had a lot going for it, but one trait I absolutely despise in fictional characters is insecurity that makes it everybody else’s problem (I mean I hate it in people, too). By this I mean, the girlfriend who cannot tolerate her boyfriend having other friends who are girls, and whining to him about it. The partner who still wonders if their lover loves them, with zero evidence to the contrary, constantly forcing a tiring debate to sate these unfounded claims.

The thing is. Real people are like this.

But the other thing is: Fiction is meant to entertain.

It’s never the insecurity that I have issue with (I am not immune to it myself) it’s the impact that insecurity has on the story. If this protagonist had quietly kept it to herself but allowed the rest of the story to move forward, and dealt with it, if not alone, but in some progressive or even regressive manner, just not stagnant, it might’ve been okay.

So the scene that would have had me DNF immediately if this had been an organic read was these two adult middle-aged characters. Stalker plotline. The boyfriend is a has-been. The girlfriend, protagonist, has already had many a bout of insecure nonsense (oh he thinks I’m ugly as he’s railing me against my dresser) but the breaking point is when she’s sent an explicit photo of him when he was younger, mid-sex with some model.

And this lady is absolutely crushed. The revelation that… this is a person who has had sex before… is somehow shocking. Like, this character seemed to desire a 50-year-old virgin who is also an adonis. The whole time I’m reading her only care about her own feelings, when I’m thinking “do you not give a single fuck about how your boyfriend feels seeing himself so exposed, a picture floating around on the internet at anyone’s mercy? How he feels to be reminded of this moment and manipulated, too?”

I’m sure I’m in the vast minority who cannot stand these types of characters, but I would have quit the book right then and there. The book was also a who-dun-it, meaning any character could be a suspect, including the boyfriend. So we’re sitting here with multiple red herrings while the protagonist ignores all of them to whine about how the man’s unbridled and unflinching love and adoration for her just isn’t enough.

Bitch then be single if you can’t handle the knowledge that your 50-year-old celebrity boyfriend got around when he was younger. You knew what you were getting into. Which was my sticking point—it wasn’t like this was a shocking twist reveal. She knew from the moment they met that he was a bit of a player. It would be wholly different if he’d led her to believe that he’s some devout celibate saving himself for her.

Is this entertaining to other people? It’s not to me.

Separating it from the actual insecurity for a second: When you force your character to go around in circles in their arc and development, no matter what that arc and development is, you have stagnated the plot and each time they meet the same pitfall, they make the exact same choices that keep them in this loop.

None of this insecurity subplot amounted to anything. She eventually got over it after one arbitrary conversation but she didn’t change as a person, it didn’t do anything for the story, it was just there, probably an outlet for the author to exercise her own demons.

But this is a story and I am not entertained and your author insert is subject to the same scrutiny as everyone else.

So.

What *I think* are compelling ways to write insecure characters. Because I wrote one. My protagonist in ENNS.

You can and should absolutely write for yourself. Just always remember that if you only write for yourself, you can’t expect everyone else to like it, and you can’t get mad when they don’t. They are not you and they don’t have your tastes.

Have the insecurity be part of their arc with movement, either forward or backward, so they don’t become a static and boring character

Give them some evidence, any evidence, to support this insecurity. Maybe their love interest really does have an issue with some physical trait. Or in the past they really have been bullied or mocked for it. Anything so that this character’s fears have merit and can become tragic and relatable instead of unfounded and annoying.

Have this character take actions to augment this insecurity or cover it up, so that they’re not going “ugh I’m so ugly… but I’m not doing anything about it it’s just here”. Like wearing oversized clothes, keeping their hair in their face, speaking softly or not smiling with teeth—whatever it is, give them some agency in this fear. This is still a character trait and internal conflict, therefore it needs some actual conflict. Inaction is unappealing.

Balance out the negativity with something more compelling. They might be insecure but they’re really skilled at this one thing, or they’re really funny or kind or smart, so the audience has something else to root for instead of just a character who is negative and self-deprecating for the entire story.

Show that though experience proves this insecurity garnered them mistreatment, this current person they’re trying to impress really doesn’t care one bit about it, and don’t make it the other character’s problem. You can still have the protagonist wary and skeptical that the comments haven’t started, but let them do so quietly instead of cornering the friend/love interest with zero evidence to demand attention when said friend/love interest has done absolutely nothing wrong.

Like. If this was a murder mystery, and you had a character who, with zero proof, started suspecting Character E, and didn’t even look at A-D, despite all the mounting evidence that E is innocent, Protagonist is just fixating and projecting and stuck in their own head, would that be entertaining? You’re reading a murder mystery to live vicariously through the hero and use their smarts and observation skills to try and solve it yourself. You’re not here to watch them harass E until they admit to guilt for a crime they didn’t commit just to make it stop.

If that is a story you want to read, the summary would make that quite clear up front, or at least the first two chapters before you get invested. If I’m sold a murder mystery, by god, I’m going to expect a murder mystery.

Something I see a lot in inexperienced authors (or those who think “writing is easy, if it’s hard for you, you just suck”) is making characters too realistic. If you want to write a full-blown transcript of a conversation, false-starts and stutters and nonsensical grammar and half-finished points, be my guest, but fiction is supposed to be a little cleaned up. Details in fictional stories should be written with intent.

Not every single one. Sometimes a character’s eyes are green because I have too many with brown. It’s not that deep.

But bigger things, like a character’s personality and motives, should all serve the greater narrative. What does their insecurity say about them? How does it impact the choices they make and how they see the world? Is this something they grow out of or a trait that dooms them as a self-fulfilling prophecy?

The lesson doesn’t always have to be “you’re beautiful just the way you are”. It can be a nightmarish regression. Whatever it is, just tell a story with it, otherwise, why is it here?

[mallowmaenad]

baedel flow

this shit ain't nothin to me girl

i'm taking DIY alstolfo brand temu titty skittles. I got so much prog up my ass my dildo has erectile dysfunction. I'm injecting estrogen straight into my face so I can force fem the cop in my brain.

I'm problematic. I ship things you can't imagine. The judge read my Archive Of Our Own bookmarks out loud and the jury were too busy throwing up to give me a guilty verdict.

I smoke shit so dank it'll age regress you into a fucking sperm.

I'm on that greymarket back alley bimbo goo. I'm doing deviantart shit to my body just to look myself in the mirror when I shave in the morning.

Your sister LOVES my milk duds. You never had a brother, she calls me mommy with a 2 year age difference.

I'm putting lead and estrogen in my haters' cereal so I can make some toxic yuri, get them moaning in their boyvoices 6 months later behind the Warhammer store like I'm fucking Slaanesh.

They/them me again and I'll run a used Manscaped Lawnmower across your face until you look like a fucking newborn

I show up to Planned Parenthood just to stand there and watch the abortions, licking my lips between sips of Strawberry Dreams mixed with pure thailander gamer girl sweat.

When I'm done with you you'll never want to go to the pool shirtless again bitch

I'm on those quadruple puppygirlboygirl anarchist homebrew estrogen patches, taking so much spiro that Big Pharma is wiping down fire hydrants in my area to make Premarin with the residue.

The only thing Harkness is testing is my fucking patience and I'm about to turn him into another one of my little sisters

I'm smoking that bocchi the rock giving myself middle school anxiety so intense it erases my male socialization

They wanted to write a callout post about me so I fucked their moms, and their dogs and the playstation 5 just for good measure, now if they don't call me auntie they're grounded from role playing My Hero Academia characters on discord for 2 weeks.

You wish I'd make you my bitch. By the time you re-align your pronouns you'll be bottoming for a fucking stuffed shark posting about your Amazon Basics skirt on reddit

They call me the egg cracker because I bust so many fucking balls

I radiate so much AGP my nickname at the local pride center is elephant's foot. I give Kaitlyn Jenner so much gender envy it's got her considering voting blue in the next election.

Yeah I'm on E, what the fuck else am I gonna trip on when I drive to the pharmacy blasting SewerSlvt so loud youtube is recommending video essays to every single person in the tri state area.

Christine Chandler wishes she was me. Contrapoints wishes she was me. Aphrodite desires me carnally. They can't handle the divine feminine energy radiating from my unwashed hen cause they gotta go through the Hero's Journey just to get a face full of baby butter that tastes like expired anchovies.

Tonight girl my chosen name is Bridget because I'm going to go to town inside you. Your hole's gonna be more ruined than Thanksgiving dinner when I show up in a slutty little number watching my cousin the same age as me lose another inch of his hairline.

I'm sucking on that neocities watamote siscon shadow siren hard candy getting affected like a male feminist just heard me say the word bitch a little too loud for his liking. My Celeste speedruns have never been faster.

Fuck around and find out keep talking shit and my final fantasy 14 plugins won't be the only thing I'll be reprogramming tonight

[agerefandomstuff]

little soldier boy???

I think he'd be small but also have bigger ages? But if you could write about him being a small guy it be much appreciated!

Soldier Baby - Is it Him or the Drugs?

Content warning: not kids’ appropriate media. and has not been censored to be even though it involves sfw age regression.

(if you’ve watched The Boys you have an idea of what to expect from the characters’ vocab and personalities.)

Word count: 3175

Tags/warnings: Regressor Soldier Boy - Ben, Caregiver Billy Butcher, Hughie Campbell, poor hughie’s always bullied, Soldier Boy and Butcher accurate cursing and sexual jokes, general vulgarity, Ben being borderline racist/sexist/homophobic/ OUTDATED THINKING except I didn’t actually wanna make it as bad as he actually can be and I also don’t know how to be, anxiety, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of violence, threats, insults, French fries dipped in frosties, if that’s something that disturbs you idk, my American attempt at writing a British man played by a Kiwi man, first time regressing, confusion, panic, misunderstanding, I don’t know, Ben commenting bad things about The Little Mermaid, Butcher being dumb, Butcher taking charge and being a dad, not beta read. Never beta read. I don’t know who I would be if it was beta read.

Perhaps it was because he had taken too much. Or more likely Butcher gave him something laced since his body filtered out most drugs within minutes and he'd been feeling this way since he’d started yawning a couple hours earlier. His yawns started while watching dumb new century movies, one moment he was bitching to Hughie about how his generation relied too heavily on special effects instead of getting creative (like back in his day) the next he was getting asked when the last time he slept was. As if he was some toddler and not a grown fucking man who can occasionally yawn if he wants to damn it! Hughie might’ve been his “babysitter,” as Butcher titled it, when they were alone but he wasn’t a fuckin child for him to fuss over like some sniveling house wife.

“I’ve stayed awake for over a month before partying, kicking ass, and slinging pussy all while doing my damn job as a hero. Then I was asleep for decades because of Russian scum. This is nothing.” He growled at Hughie, the poor boy shaking like one of those fuckin rat dogs he use to see rich women carrying around at those mind numbing Vought galas. “I am not tired. And you'd be wise to stop assuming I was.”

Although if Hughie hadn't said something about it he probably would've put more thought into it. because… beyond just yawning he was feeling… uncharacteristically spacey, even though he really hadn't been awake long enough to excuse that. He hadn't been here for more than a week, right? Doesn't matter now. He was stubborn and would purposely not give it any more thought because Hughie was a cunt.

...that was until his eighth yawn of the day. It was like he was yawning all the time. He couldn't stop himself and at this point he wasn't even watching the movie let alone making his usual commentary. His mind was just focusing on fighting the yawns and the odd feeling in his mind. He couldn't remember a time he felt so unfocused like this. Even in his most fucked up state at the first Herogasm party he threw, he didnt feel this way.

It had gotten to the point that even Butcher had noticed once he had come back from his food run. However Butcher’s attention on him only fed into Ben’s theory that he’d been slipped something and they were just waiting for him to go down so they could do something to him. Maybe the food he’d brought just had more of whatever supe roofie was inside and they would use it to get a second dose in so they could drag him back to the Russians to be tortured again. Maybe they were working with the evil sons of bitches to turn him into this perfect weapon they wanted and this had all been a ruse to gain his trust.

“The fuck you lookin at?” He snapped out at Butcher but the man only raised his hands in surrender, not even putting up an argument which almost made him feel bad since he… had respect for the guy. He was a badass leader that did–albeit unintentionally–released him from his permanent cyro torture. Even if he was suspicious of him right now… He somewhat owed the man.

Also he was placating him with his favorite things. Drugs, trashy food, his own movies. Only things that would make his time better would be to not be spending it in this shithole hotel unless it was with a woman.

Or a few women.

Aged-like-wine women.

Maybe he was overreacting to this spacey-feeling bullshit.

He probably just needed to do a couple lines to get rid of the yawns and he would be good as new.

“Didn’t say nothin, mate. Calm yer pretty little ticker down.” Butcher responded, glancing down at his chest in warning, reminding them all what would happen if he didn’t get over whatever he was getting so defensive about. “Take some pills, take a nap fer all I care. Whatever keeps this buildin from shambles and our goals within sight.”

The nap line was really all he heard and it was definitely the worst thing to say. The bottle in his hand shattered between his fingers like it was nothing more than a breakaway and Hughie’s face drained of color in time with the beer that dripped down his arm.

Ben stood up his finger pointing at Butcher in a real warning, “Whatever the fuck you think you accomplished–whatever shit you roofied me with–it’s best you undo it right now before I turn your queer side piece into– into…” he couldnt even think of a clever threat. It's like his brain was completely malfunctioning leaving him to just angrily settle for a more embarrassingly simple correction. “Before I fucking kill him.”

The Brit raised his eyebrow as he had to take a second to actually will his mouth to hold back a sarcastic comment about the tongue trip, shockingly actually valuing their lives for once since he was so close to getting Homelander with Soldier Boy in his pocket. “A’right.. hold on now. I ain't got a clue whatcha accusing me of but we ‘aven't done it.” he closed his laptop softly, never taking his eyes off Ben the same way he would never take his eyes off a wild horse. “Why d’ya fink we roofied ya? Beyond the actual roofies yew requested, that is?”

His reaction made Ben second guess his theory again. He never second guessed himself like this. Even when he was wrong. And he sure as shit didn't share his feelings. Feelings were for pussies like Hughie. You didn't have feelings in war or at Vought. Yet…. he felt oddly compelled to answer Butcher’s question honestly and without more threats. He couldn't rationalize this strange compulsion other than maybe it was the way Butcher talked to him or managed to not be afraid of him. Or maybe it was because he was potentially slipped something–he still hadn’t ruled it out!

“I feel… wrong. My head ain't clear but everything I’ve taken should’ve worn off by now.” His hand dipped in the air like a physical indicator of his current lowering confidence and defenses which Butcher–in true Billy Butcher fashion–promptly took a shit on.

“Sounds like someone’s backed up. How boutcha go have a wank in the shower while we plug our ears and pretend we hadn’t noticed yer on edge?” Ben scoffed at the suggestion, his defenses rising back up. Butcher didn't get it. He didnt have blue balls, he had a fucked up head!

“No, you fuckin foreign– guy! ” this was really getting pathetic.. “I-it’s like… like–”

“Like PTSD…?” Hughie nervously piped up from where he was watching, still frozen to the couch. The other two men looked over at him and Ben opened his mouth to shut him down but hesitated. While he was actually kind of glad the little runt was taking him more seriously than Butcher had.. he also didn’t have an answer. He wanted to say no, I've seen shell shock, idiot. I don't have it! He wasn't really sure this time because he really didn't feel normal which was only making him feel more… antsy.

Picking up on his discomfort and hesitation, Butcher turned back towards Ben and watched him for a second, actually deciding to have a good look at him beyond his front of anger. He was tense but his body language was severely lacking its usual arrogant confidence. Like he wasn't comfortable within his own space right now. Once Butcher really looked, even his face, which normally lacked any expression beyond irritation, was practically screaming; I don’t know what’s going on! Someone fix it!

He’d seen that look more times than he could count in his life with his line of work but something about it reminded him more of a little kid than an adult in the middle of a PTSD episode. The look was similar to the one that made him call Hughie “kid” regardless of him being a full adult and insisting on it all the time.

He could see something in Ben right now that activated the part of his brain that had always taken care of Lenny as a kid.

The softer part of him that insisted he help the poor sod’s silent beg for help.

“Oi..kay, kid.” Butcher softened the gruffness in his tone and stood up from his seat at the table, snagging a bag of greasy fries and the frostie he had yet to dig into. “Let's get on then, yeah?” He slung an arm around Ben’s shoulder and led him back to the hotel bed in front of the TV he had long set up shop on.

Although still confused, Ben didn’t stop him. Instead following on autopilot while his mind still reeled with thought until his knees bumped against the mattress.

“No– I'm not tired. I told you I'm not tired–” had he told Butcher that or had he only yelled at Hughie today? “I’m not taking a damn nap–!” christ, he sounded like a whining child! Sleeping wouldn’t kill him for fuck’s sake! If the Russians hadn't figured that out after this many years surely they never would– unless they did. He didn't want to be tortured more– how long would it be before his mind broke for good? Before he died?

“No, y’ain’t so hush and stop yer worrying. Were jus’ gonna sit and eat the food I boughtcha before my money goes ta waste.” Ben looked surprised to have been effectively told to shut up and do what he's told but what he was most shocked about was the fact he didn't immediately get the desire to punch the shit out of him for having the audacity to do so. He just felt… odd. Like there were butterflies tying uncomfortable knots in his stomach. Like… it was almost nice to have a direction to go into so his thoughts would pause.

“Come on. Don’t make me wait. Fries ain’t neva last too long outside the frya.” Butcher pat his lower back, almost like he was a little kid getting encouraged forward and he listened. He crawled up onto the bed and sat in his spot looking at him with big eyes, clearly at a loss with the situation. He felt like he didn't know himself. This was a part of him he’d never experienced and he didn't know what to do, yet Butcher… seemed as at ease as ever. Like he’d dealt with a hundred men with nukes in their chests yelling at him.

Though he knew him longer than Ben did, even all Hughie could do was watch with the same odd mixture of shock and amazement when Butcher sat down beside the supe, tossed the fries between them, then changed the channel. No one had touched the remote since Ben had figured it out just enough to channel surf onto his own films. He had guarded that thing like a kid who found a new toy he didn't want to share.

“I.. was watching that.” Ben struggled to get out in a mumble that had never left his lips before.

“Won't spoil the ending for ya then, just say it ain't worth more than a prostitute that's got the clap.” Butcher casually informed him while he looked through the menu. The hotel, although shitty in every other aspect, actually had a Vought+ subscription, which begrudgingly had a pretty good selection. “Hughie, be a good lad for me an name a tolerable animation that aint Disney.”

“The Little Mer…maid..?” Hughie stuttered out, his brain automatically picking the last Disney movie he’d watched with him, too scared to really absorb the question.

“That’s Disney, Champ. Lookin fer somethin on Vought+”

“Oh. Right. Um..” He racked his brain for a moment trying not to mess this up and get his butt chewed by Soldier Boy later for choosing a movie he would hate sitting through. But the more he thought about everything the grumpy old man complained about when they were alone the less movies he could think of. In fact all he could think of was Ariel. Ariel.. Ariel, save me. Oh wait. “Isn't… isn't there a Disney princess section on Vought+ now?”

“Hn.. There is. Good thinkin.” Butcher cleared his throat a bit as he clicked on the movie then tossed the remote to reach for a fry, not paying attention to the way Ben was currently staring at him like he was an alien. “Redheaded broad it is.”

“Disney.. prin…cess? Like… the films for.. little brats..?” Ben slowly asked out, his voice not really feeling like his own with how insecure and… small it sounded. This all felt like a drug fueled dream. A really weird one, not one of the fun ones. Maybe he’d already fallen asleep and was back in some cyro-coma.

“Mmhm. Hughie likes em. Usually he leans more towards that lil boffin Belle over the glorified sushi princess but–”

“I like Ariel!” Hughie instantly defended but his cheeks went pink as he realized he meant to defend himself in a different way. Like one that might keep his reputation intact or keep himself from being relentlessly bullied by resident tough man, Soldier Boy. “I-I mean–” He gave Butcher an embarrassed, desperate look as he hissed out between his teeth a clear plea. “Butcher..! Come on..!”

Ben’s head swiveled between Hughie and Butcher feeling like he was missing out on something. He felt like that a lot recently since the world was so much different than it was back when he was last in it but this felt like he was out of the loop on something he should know.

“Why… why does Hughie like–” Before he could even finish his question, Butcher had slipped an ice cream dipped fry in his mouth, surprising him further. His reaction time was lacking, he hadn't even seen the man’s hand until it was too late. His senses were dulled. Could only imagine the foul shit his father would say if he saw him now.

“Film’s startin, kid, eat yer food.” Butcher spooned a mouthful of frostie into his own mouth with the grace expected of a grown man whose shirt was stained as much as it was and Ben watched him as he slowly followed instructions and chewed what had been given to him. His gaze flicked over to Hughie still trying to figure out what was going on but all Hughie was telling him was that he’d rather be swallowed alive by the couch than make eye contact with him.

The sound of water splashing alongside loud music on the tv stole his attention away from his less than stellar detective work and he watched for a few seconds as sailors began to sing. His brows furrowed and he turned to Butcher to protest and ask again about why the hell grown men would watch cartoons like this but the moment his mouth opened he was spoon fed some frostie. And while it was more careful than how the Brit had fed himself the action was aggravating. Ben looked at the Brit with an unhappy glare that probably looked more harmless than his usual happy expression if the rest of him looked as pathetic as he felt. But when he was given no attention from it he finally turned away to begrudgingly watch the stupid movie they insisted on making him watch instead of dealing with his problems.

Twenty minutes was all it took for Ben to be fully enraptured, his thought process having melted away with the colorful fish on the screen without his knowledge. Butcher had kept a casual eye on him after he’d realized he was dropping, mildly worried that the loose cannon might start to get anxious again if he broke out of his distraction. It was a little rockier at the start of the movie when he was still incredibly uneasy with the situation and unhappy with having been fed twice without permission; however Butcher was stupid and confident. An that’s what got ‘im this far in life, right?

So sue him if he let himself feel a bit smug as Ben obliviously settled into this new headspace, watching the movie as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever witnessed. The only time he occasionally turned away from the screen was for the brief moment it would take to be spoon fed another bite being offered. Nothin beat the tried and true combination of an age regression classic an comfort food t’keep someone perfectly satiated in a headspace, eh?

Kid would barely wait to swallow before pointing at the screen to yell something about it because he was trying so hard to listen after having been told “ta swallow ‘is food ‘fore speakin,” but still NEEDED to give his commentary on everything since at his core he was still Ben. He might be acting younger but he was still who he was for better or for worse. And that included movie commentary.

Ben: “That crab is such an ass-munch! I mean look at him! He’s practically makin out with King Trident’s butt.”

Butcher: “His name’s Sebastian, you’ll like him more later on, bud.”

Ben: “I don’t like commies.”

Butcher: “Now why’dja go an call the poor ol bastard that?”

Ben: “He’s red.”

Butcher: “That don’t mean… he’s a crab, mate.”

Ben: “And? Crabs can be commies.”

Hughie: “That’s weirdly the most inclusive thing I’ve heard you say.”

—

Ben: “Hell yeah King Trident!”

Hughie: “You can't cheer for him, he just destroyed his daughter’s most prized collection!”

Ben: “Uh yeah. She didn't do what he said so she earned it. And she was probably kissin on that statue like a weirdo. Anyway he looked cool doing it.”

Butcher: “An how’dja know she was doin that?”

Ben: “I dunno.”

Hughie: “Ariel wouldn't kiss a statue!”

Ben: “Shut up, Hughie, you don't know that!”

Hughie: “Yes, I do! I’ve watched this movie more than you!”

Butcher: “Boys.”

Hughie: “Sorry..”

Ben: “Well I’m not sorry.”

Once the junk food was gone, Ben started his yawns again but Butcher counted himself lucky that his anxiety didn't notice them this time since that was the only thing he could guess set him off earlier. That or he just took too much while he was gone and got paranoid. Supe was a nutcase anyhow and Butcher probably trusted him even less than Hughie did.

Near the end of the movie though was when the brick of a man made himself comfortable against Butcher’s side and without making it a big deal, the infamous bloke wrapped his arm around his shoulder to pull him in tight. He was softer than he looked. Maybe that level of comfort he was providing was why Ben’s aggressive commentary died away before he could give a final scathing review and instead slipped asleep the moment the next movie started. But Ben would certainly deny that to anyone that brought it up. Including his own thoughts. He’d rather blame those supe-special roofies he never confirmed.

[cookie-crumblr]

Chubby F! Housewife Reader x M! Yandere OC Jasper

Part 4

Part 1 here!

MINORS DNI!

CW: F!Reader, reader has a vagina, reader referred to as she/her, non-con somno touching, reader has hair(not described just “in face”, pet names for reader(pretty, ), age regression? kinda a little, names called not by ML(bitch, ), TW ED AND WEIGHT MENTIONED NEGATIVELY(ily fellow girlies and NB’s and boys with ED’s please be warned!), just sad kinda vibes, short part(getting back into it sorry luv yas!) ABUSIVE HUSBAND omg sorry i forgot the wholeass theme

(i know i gave us all so many options XD also i deleted the wholeass ending of the last post?? i confused myself lol so sorry ignore the weirdness plz idk why i did that)

Song rec: a lot on ur plate, by Father

“O-oh this? hah, I uh-uhm, fell, haha, yeah, it was really embarrassing, to be honest.” You rub your arm bashfully, hoping he’ll drop it.

Fell.

On your eye?

Sure.

He smiles softly at you, offering silent consolation for whatever you do not wish to admit. Then he steps back and let’s you inside.

Once inside his eccentricly vaporwave home, he leads you to his game room. It’s fully decked out with two multi-monitored setups, and a humungous T.V. The cable management is immaculate-meaning: You don’t see a single one, it’s beautiful even if you aren’t really into this stuff, you can see the care and dedication he’s put into his hobby, just the same as the rest of his house.

“Wow Jasper! This is so cool!! Your place is really awesome! I don’t know if i’ve told you that yet, but i’m obsessed!” You motion towards the room to show off your point.

He glows sheepishly, he’s used to complements on his appearance sure, but on something so personal to him, and by you, of course he’s a little embarrassed. He’s so ecstatic too. “Thanks pretty~”

He starts setting up for a movie, handing you a box stack of thrillers and slashers to choose from, how cute, physical copies! You wonder if these are his faves, or if he just buys dvd’s for every movie he watches.

You pick one toward the middle, it’s old, like really old. Killer Clowns from Outer Space.

“A classic, truly ahead of its time.”

~

You’ve fallen asleep on Jasper’s couch somehow, even after the amount you’ve slept this past week.

You felt so calm near him, so safe and relaxed, you’re gonna feel so bad when you wake up, but for now, this is the best rest you’ve gotten in months.

You poor thing, you were all alone in that sunroom for that week, nobody even messaged you. You must’ve been so bored… And so lonely.

He moves some of your hair gently from your face, his lids heavy as he looks from your peaceful expression, straight to your lips. His slender hand slowly raises to meet your skin, his fingers caress your cheek, and flow down to your lips where he pauses to inspect you.

Your head is lolled uncomfortably to one side and you’re a little slouched, yet he gazes over you fondly.

Pale fingers lightly dance over your more sensitive flesh, as he leans closer to you. With eyes heavily lidded and mouth parted slightly he places his lips to yours.

Your lips purse slightly in your sleep, in reception, as if you’re (in his mind) giving him the green light to continue. His heart races wildly in his chest, like a clydesdale down a stone path, heavily and loud.

“So pretty~” it just slips right out of his throat.

You aren’t stirring much, so he gently, and begrudgingly lays you more comfortably next to him… if it was up to him you’d be in his lap, but he is already too excited for that. You’d wake up in horror, he’s sure.

His hands accidentally brush over your chest, and he stops to check on your face, to make sure you’re still asleep. You are.

He brings his palm back to the center of one of your breasts, and softly lays his hand over it, again checking you. His eyes are heavily lidded as he begins to massage and squeeze, upping the pressure little by little. Slowly he starts to press harder and uses his thumb to brush over your peaked nipple, he runs it over so many times by now your breathing shallower. Every flick of your bud has your body almost jumping in your slumber.

You mumble something, and startle Jasper, he stops, before switching to your other breast, making that feel just as hot as the first. Flicking over that sensitive nipple through the fabric of your top, he stops to pinch them both and watch you take much shallower, and needier breaths. His own breathing is becoming hard to keep quite as your growing excitement is evident to him.

Imagining how wet you must be already has him dizzy, and on his knees in front of you and the couch.

If he goes any further he’ll have to do something more drastic… He can feel it in him, the surmounting hunger making his head feel full of smoke ready to burst out.

“Fuck.” He fixes your top and pulls away to go find a blanket.

Just then, your phone dings eight a message from your husband. Jasper fishes around his own pocket for your clone and checks the message:

“Where the fuck are you Y/N”

Jasper’s eye twitches, as he reads and rereads the message over again.

“mmf… Jas-*Yaawwwn~*per?” You stretch and sit up behind him, he puts away the phone clone, and readjusts his pants in the same motion as he turns to you. His erection twitches with the way you said his name, rubbing painfully against the tightness of his jeans.

“Hey there, pretty~ how did you sleep?” His mind melts again when he sees you, forgetting all about your husband already.

You giggle and your face heats up hearing him call you that so naturally, and in his soothing, breathy voice. Not to mention, after such a hot dream…

You push the heels of your palms sheepishly into your eyes, pretending to wipe them but really just trying to hide the fact that you’re flustered by him. He watches closely with intense interest sparkling in his irises.

“Oh shit!” You exclaim, locking back into reality and you start to frantically look around the couch for your phone, which ended up under your cushy behind.

“You alright?” He asks, worried.

Your heart sinks at the message you’ve awoken to… How can your husband be so… Cruel?

“N-no… I don’t think I am…” Tears well in your eyes.

He shuffles closer getting on his knees before you, and cupping your face.

“Do you want me to fix it?” his voice is so serious it makes your heart thump nervously.

“I don’t know, Jasper…” You aren’t sure what he means. “I can fix it, i’m sure!” You shake your head with determination.

A gentle smile creeps across his face, you have to look away as your heart keeps thumping too hard and too loudly! And he’s just too handsome, does he know what he’s doing to you.

His hand remains cupping the air where your chin once was for a second longingly, before he lets it fall to the couch cushion.

“If you ever need me, just tell me.” He offers.

You nod your head once in understanding, even though you have no idea what he could possibly mean by him ‘fixing it’.

You collect your things and head home. Jasper follows you and walks you to the gate between your yards.

“See ya soon, pretty~”

You turn on your heel bashfully, fuck! why is he so hot and he just keeps calling you that…. Is it so wrong that you don’t ever want him to stop either…?

~

Your husband on the other hand, stands tall and looks in the doorway like a massive father waiting for his troublesome little girl to come home. you feel like a little girl before him too, one that’s broken a rule and about to be punished.

“If you hadn’t been in the sunroom sulking for a week i’d think you’ve cheated on me, stupid selfish bitch. Who was that, thing, at our yard gate?”

Anger boils in you but quickly simmers when you remember he already punched you once. “That’s just our neighbor, his name is Jasper.”

“You’re already buddy buddy with the local freak then. You’re to stop hanging around it effective immediately, Y/N.” Gods he sounds like a father too. Bile builds in your throat and you swallow hard to avoid gagging.

“Yes sir.” It just slipped out naturally, like his commanding tone just awakened your much younger self. You almost gag again, and hold your stomach and mouth.

He sees you practically turning green and gets angry with you, “What the fuck is your problem bitch?” He sets down his crystal glass of scotch, and cracks his left knuckles.

“No-nothing! sorry, i think i ate something bad earlier”

“Speaking of, you should stop eating for a while. You’re embarrassing me now,” He says it so easily, something so atrocious.

“Maybe i will then…” The words fall from your lips dejectedly.

The world is a deep blur as your feet carry you to the bedroom behind Edward. He shoves you in front of him, getting tired of dragging you by your soft arm. You look down at your wrist and see angry skin already forming blues, but you aren’t feeling any pain.

Are you that dissociated? You blink a few times, but you realize you’d rather stay zoned out, and climb into the cold bed.

~

Just curious,

[melfinawins]

A little tidbit on Nat. (It turned into other things.) Spoilers for the whole season of The Bear as I'm just a stream of thoughts at this point!

No, helping with childbirth does not heal or bond you to a narc long term. It's a TV show that prides itself on realism but still has a narrative to follow.

I was not moved by Donna that episode. Because in the real world, if Nat's baby has an allergy or some shit, Donna is the type to say that's dumb and kill her own grandchild because she can't be wrong.

Nat has always been empathetic. How did she ignore all the shit she did? I get that she's pregnant, but like... she's not the first person ever to be that way. She never came across as self absorbed to me? She kept on asking Cicero what she could do to stop the hemorrhaging. I don't know, Nat, TELL CARMY NO? If there's no money, there's no money. If he doesn't like that answer tell him to get outside investors who aren't his fucking uncle. Carmy is not an unruly baby, he's a 30 year old man.

Anyone else think these were different characters this season? Beyond just Carmy's regression.

I got the impression that Tiff and Frank had been dating for more than a year or so. In what world would Richie think he should butt out of Evie's life and become a DEAD BEAT DAD just because Josh Hartnett's fine ass got in his face?

Affording a home without the help of parents and being called lonely by your 6 year old means you want to shirk your responsibilities? I know that Richie was concerned about being left behind, but I didn't get the impression that he would abandon his kid. The Richie I grew to know and love would fight heaven and earth for that little girl.

Claire, bitch, I hope you're thriving. Being with Carmy seems like a fate worse than death!

There was such a malaise this season, damn. Moreso from the production side of things--they seemed lost and confused about what they were trying to do. Maybe they should have a sit down in the writer's room, think about why they thought giving 99 percent of the comedy to the Faks and why they DIDN'T HAVE CARMY TRY TO EXPLAIN HIMSELF ONCE OR SEND A SORRY TEXT TO CLAIRE GODDAMN. His inability to face up to his mistakes was tolerable for the first few episodes, but it quickly turned unsympathetic after fucking EVERYONE SAID CARMY LOVED HER and Claire had me siding with her because Carmy didn't tell her shit! He's a big boy and not a baby. Also: HOW LONG IS STORER AND CO GONNA DRAG OUT THE INFANTILIZATION OF THIS GROWN ASS WHITE MAN?

ALSO, WHY COULDN'T WE AT LEAST GET RICHIE AND CARMY MAKING UP?? LITERALLY NOTHING WAS RESOLVED. I feel like if they didn't have season 4 in the bag, this wouldn't be the case.

[dr5amatic]

READER, WRITER, PROTAGONIST ,

a sentence starter prompts list comprised of quotes from omniscient reader's viewpoint by sing shong. please be advised that this list may involve topics including, but not limited to, murder, death, and violence. change verbiage as needed.

we are companions separated by life and death.

i remember the moment i read a novel for the first time.

it isn't important to read the letters. the important thing is where the letters lead you.

perhaps it was similar to learning about death. for the first time, i realized that something was finite.

if i am really a god then i am the most incompetent god in the world. the most helpless god in the whole world who knows everything but can't explain anything.

i believe in you more than the future that hasn't come yet.

ultimately, every human is their own writer.

helping someone who didn't want help can be a curse. however, some people can't ask for help despite needing help because they had never asked for it before.

what i am looking for is passion. i hope you have the passion to see the end of this damn story with me.

by the way, are you a couple?

tell me, you fool. if i continue to regress, will i ever get to meet you again?

[name]. can i hit you?

you will be my companion and you will see the end of the scenario.

the story won't end unless the reader gives up on the story.

i am an ordinary person with ordinary skills. but even so, this doesn't mean i can only do ordinary things.

i am [name]. and you shall die here.

get lost, [name].

this story is for just that one reader.

hey, just say that you like him. quickly.

there is no weight to sadness.

in the end, to every human being, the most precious thing is themselves. and you risk everything of yours always.

strangely, i've been craving something sweet lately. do you want to eat?

release your hand and get lost, you damn son of a bitch.

i have a companion already.

i always regretted about something in my life. however, my regret over the things i haven't done is way bigger than for those that i did do.

i don't know anything about the future. however, i do know this. you said that you want to save this world? it's the same for me too.

you are the world i wish to save.

you are like dough made by anyone while a god was carving him for a thousand days.

i might be a killer but i don't want to become a monster.

those who read more than fifty chapters of a boring novel aren't normal.

eat the soil, [name].

marry him? i'd rather kill myself.

it's my freedom to decide what i hear and what i remember. and i shall decide who i am.

i'm only good to people who are also dead. i'm sorry that we met when you are a living person. you should die soon and come back again.

justice, in most cases, is just something that is agreed upon by the majority.

don't you know that people are the most dangerous in an apocalypse?

i can kill all of them if i want. therefore, i can save all of them if i want.

it's been a while, [name]. you are still ugly.

i shall pray that you may continue to exist somewhere too.

you probably know this already, but i'm not a prophet. no, i am as far removed from such a being as you can get.

if you get a chance to run again, do you believe you can see it better the next time?

where do you plan to die alone?

why are you going so far to save me?

i have something i need to ask that fool.

it was a really great story. isn't that right? let's meet again, [name].

give me [name]. then i will spare you.

you are necessary for this world. i need you.

you will be killed by the person you love the most.

i won't give up on this life, so don't give up either.

don't worry. i'll do the rest.

everything has already been written, and at the same time, still being written.

even if i was a little bit less happy, i wanted to live longer.

we can save the world. you know that, right?

you always had to endure these moments all by yourself. fortunately, you aren't alone this time.

the fact that you can regress at any time means that death is meaningless.

i will decide my story.

perhaps you understood my heart more than anyone else.

this version of you is the despair of the world itself.

i will never sacrifice myself again. i will not leave my companions behind.

it has always been once chance for me.

one's life should always be greater than a story written about them.

i'm giving you the opportunity to become its very first reader.

don't be an ass and just read it when i tell you to.

fine, fine. i'll definitely read it.

some stories can only begin anew after coming to its end.

you're the cowardly lion, obviously.

do you still believe that you can understand someone through just a few lines of text in a couple of chapters?

knowledge is never perfect.

how do you know all my weaknesses...?

why did you die for us over and over?

you're our son. that is all that matters.

i want to buy a really big house and live together with everyone.

a person who watched a certain story for a long time would eventually grow to resemble that story.

your salvation is cruel. like rescuing a drowning person with a blade, those saved by you are inflicted with an unhealable wound.

i always hated you. and regretted it, too? why did i write the story of someone like you with my own hands?