#this is based off a post about how when your abuser puts their hands on your throat you are more likely to die

[bucketbueckers]

mess me up - paige bueckers

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader wc: 6.1k content warnings: language, abuse of italics, grammatically incorrect past tense flashback, smut robbery(?), pretty mature but nothing graphic synopsis: your friends invited you out to a frat party to celebrate the men’s team winning the NCAA tournament where you bump into paige bueckers, the girl who you're in love with and who you ghosted for a month after hooking up with her. a much-needed conversation at the party forces you to revisit difficult memories and give her the closure she’s been seeking. notes: idk what this is! based loosely off of 'friends' and 'mess me up' by chase atlantic. unfortunately the smut robbery line is for real, like it's smut in the way lacroix tastes like real fruit (which is to say it's not smut, but like concepts of smut... 😝 (i've never had lacroix idk if this is accurate)) side note i hate writing in past tense but doing a traditional flashback scene is corny as hell! idk if it matters but this is set april 2024 (w/ a february 2024 flashback); doesn't really affect anything, so... anyway, second post on tumblr, lmk if we're rocking w it 🙂‍↕️

For the record, you didn’t want to come to this party.

It’s hot, sweaty, loud, and all you can smell is the same brand of men’s cologne and weed. The air is both stale and somehow feels wet and all you can think about is getting back to your apartment so you can shower and go to bed. You had a mock trial bright and early the next morning and your law professor was a stickler for punctuality and presentability – showing up with wrinkled clothes and smelling like a frat party was a sure-fire way to fail, and you had too much riding on your grades to let that happen.

The frat (whose name you’ve already forgotten) was celebrating the NCAA tournament win for the UCONN men’s basketball team. They’d apparently gone back to back, which you guess is cool, but you swore off basketball a long time ago. If you had your way, you’d be at home, three steps into your skincare routine, but you let peer pressure get the best of you and allowed your friends to drag you out.

It’d be fun, they said. You never come out with us! You’re spending all this tuition money and you’re not even taking advantage of it. How can you say you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it?

You only remember that your friends are law students, too, in the most unfortunate of moments when they put their persuasiveness to the test. In the most unfortunate of moments, you’re also reminded of the fact that they’re college students, too, because they’re leaving you at the door and rushing off to find something to drink. You weren’t upset they dragged you out. Not necessarily. You were grown enough to say no. Perhaps you’d simply set your expectations too high when they begged you to come out and you thought they would spend at least a little bit of time with you before doing their own thing. But sure. It’s whatever.

So, here you are – standing alone in the corner of a frat party, watching as drunk college students grind against each other, laugh, and have a good time. A part of you feels like you’re missing out, but as you watch somebody throw up into a plant, you feel like you’re just fine where you are.

You’re drawn from your thoughts when a man wearing a backwards cap suddenly shows up next to you. “Yo, you thirsty?” he yells over the music, thrusting a red solo cup into your empty hands. You don’t have the time to say anything to him before he’s grinning at you, eyes red and hooded. “Come dance with me. You’re too pretty to be standin’ here all alone.”

You hear her before you see her.

“She’s good, bro, trust,” Paige interrupts smoothly, throwing a casual arm around your shoulders. You feel too much like a damsel in distress, but sensing the gravity of the situation, you flash the guy a light smile and lean into Paige slightly. Her grip tightens. You try to not let it bother you.

He raises his hands, surrendering. “My bad. You got it.”

Paige hums, unconvinced, as he leaves. When he’s out of your sight, you wrench yourself out of her grip. “Thank you, but not necessary,” you tell her sharply, red solo cup still in your hand. If this was how your night was going to go, then you need to be a little tipsy to survive it. You barely have it halfway to your mouth before Paige is pulling it out of your grasp, pouring its contents into a potted plant and chucking the cup into a nearby trash can. “What the fu–”

“First of all,” she begins, arms crossing protectively, “never accept a drink at a party that you didn’t pour, didn’t see someone else pour, or a drink that’s already open; matter fact, don’t accept a drink unless you opened it or brought it in yourself.”

You roll your eyes slightly. “This is Storrs, Paige. Do the frats really get down like that here?”

Her gaze is unimpressed. “You’re the law student, ma, you tell me the numbers. Second of all, you’re welcome. That was Kylin. He doesn’t take no for an answer in the first place but he’s all kinds of fucked up right now. I’d say I did you a favor but I wanted to talk to you, anyway.”

“Funny,” you deadpan. “Here? Now?”

“What are you doing here?” she asks you, ignoring your snippy words. “Thought this wasn’t your scene.”

You pause. “It’s not,” you confirm. “Jos and Chelsea wanted me to come out. Figured I should be a good friend once in a while.”

Paige raises a brow. “Jos and Chelsea are too busy playing strip poker with dudes from Kappa Phi to keep an eye on you, and you’re worried about having to be a good friend?”

“First of all,” you say in the know-it-all tone that Paige had used on you, “I don’t need them to keep an eye on me.” The blonde hums again, not entirely convinced, and the heat of her gaze makes you stumble over your words slightly. “Second of all, why do you even care?”

“We’re friends,” she states.

“We were once,” you correct, voice softening. It’s no secret that you and Paige had fucked up whatever you had going on. It’s never been clear whose fault your fallout was (it was yours), nor could the two of you ever agree on what destroyed you (you would argue that you shouldn’t hook up with your friends, especially not the ones you were in love with). It was a messy situation that you were sure the two of you couldn’t recover from (you didn’t want to be friends with someone you couldn’t have; Paige just wants you to give her the chance to prove you otherwise).

“Sure,” she agrees half-heartedly, knowing your spiel by heart now. “Kinda fucked up you think I need a reason to care.” You don’t dignify that with a proper response, feeling something strangely like guilt corroding your heart. “Come outside and get some air with me? Please? Just wanna talk, no funny shit, I promise.”

You sigh, feeling yourself fall back into all too familiar routines. You had a near inability to say no to Paige most times – it was the reason why you had to put a stop to your friendship. And here you are now, undoing all of the progress you’ve made since you’ve been apart (a small part of you knows better; you’re moving forward but you’re not really doing any better. You’re not progressing. You’re just stuck now, only this time, you have less than you did before). “Jos and Chelsea–”

“–made their choice,” she finishes for you. “And their choice was strip poker with a guy named Anthony,” she adds solemnly. You can’t help but quirk a smile at the absurdity of your life right now. “C’mon, please? It fucking reeks in here. They’ve got a porch swing outside and it’s all quiet and shit.”

“You’ve always had a way with words,” you tease.

“You comin’ or nah?” she asks, but you shove her forward (she lets you) and she leads you through the crowd to the door. They part like the Red Sea and you can’t help but admire the way she silently commands the room, feeling a flutter in your chest you try desperately to stomp out. It’s like a fire; all it takes is a small spark before it eventually grows out of proportion. You know better now.

The door shuts behind the two of you and you sit on the porch swing. You can still hear the music’s pounding bass, but it’s muted. You feel like you can hear your thoughts now. The tension in your shoulders eases as you take in the crisp night air, the crickets’ chirps, the occasional owl’s hoot. For a moment, you forget all of the complicated history between you and Paige; the way she held your hand as she kissed up your thigh, the way she stayed afterwards, cleaning you up and bringing you water. It almost seems as Paige is reliving all of it, too, as she looks at you, and that thought is sobering enough to bring you back to the moment.

You finally get a good look at what she’s wearing. It’s nothing outstanding; a gray Nike tech suit and a pair of dunks, although she’s opted to leave her jacket unzipped, revealing the crop top underneath. She’s dressed for comfort, though the most unfair part of it all is how good she looks when she’s not trying. Her cheekbones are sharp, eyes blue and wide and alert, and you can’t help but notice how fitting a slick-back bun is on her.

This was precisely why you needed your space. You couldn’t control your thoughts or feelings. It was manageable when you minded your business – the phrase out of sight, out of mind did wonders for you and you were usually busy enough that she only crossed your mind once or twice a week when the student population was buzzing about a recent game. But now? Now you’re fucked. You’re inches away from her and you’ve allowed her to pull you back into her orbit. She’s the Earth and you’re a meteor – any closer and you won’t be able to come back from the damage you would do to each other. She would survive, you’re sure, but you’d be destroyed in the process.

“So,” she says slowly. You avert your eyes, staring at anything but her. “How you been?”

“Good,” you lie. “Keeping busy.” That part was less of a lie, but it wasn’t her business to know.

Paige has always been good at reading you, so she gazes at you like she’s not convinced. “I think we’re overdue a conversation,” she says, surprising you. “A real one. No more of this running in circles bullshit.”

“Okay,” you agree hesitantly. You finally meet her eyes. They’re strikingly blue, disarming, and you feel an odd mixture of guilt and longing eat away at your insides. She looks like she’s drinking you in, like she’s trying to understand why you did what you did; her eyes soften in the dim glow of the porchlight and you can’t help but flush under her gaze. She always understands you in spite of how often you push her away – she seems to understand why you keep her at arm’s length, too, and it’s then that you fully understand how overwhelming it is to be known.

“Why did you leave?” she asks finally. You have to swallow back the bile in your throat. “The morning after.” Her clarification does nothing to soothe the turmoil in your stomach. “I thought…” Paige’s throat bobs as she tries to find the words. “It wasn’t a hook up. It meant something to me – everything to me. So why did you leave like that shit ain’t matter to you?”

That night in February comes back to you in the blur of a memory. You’ve thought about it so often that you could write a play-by-play of it; every single unremarkable detail comes back to you in a flourish of vibrant color – the way the floor felt beneath your feet as Paige guided you into her room, the slight scratch of her nail against the base of your neck as her hands found purchase in your hair. Paige was wrong. It meant something to you, too much to you. You often remind yourself, if it meant that much, why was it easier to run away? Jumping off of a diving board into a pool conceptually means the same thing as jumping off of a cliffside into beach waves; the jump isn’t the hard part, it’s the reminder of the distance between your feet and the surface. Your feelings for Paige are too consuming. It’s easier to not make the jump at all than it is to worry if you’ll be able to come up for air.

She was in high spirits, drunk off of their win against Villanova. They weren’t an opponent you’d typically call home for, but the Huskies were having a tough season with several injured players and a lot of underclassmen. It was close, 67-46; Paige had contributed to a little less than half of their points overall with a solid 31. She was happy, the rest of her team was happy, and she’d begged you to come over to her apartment for the post-game festivities – which was usually games and snacks as they weren’t big on drinking during the season. You’d nearly refused at first. It was supposed to be a small team get-together and you had some work to catch up on. You eventually gave in, like you always do. Paige had flashed her typical, charming smile, looping an arm around your waist, and you were a goner.

The team accepted you like you were one of their own, too. That was new. You didn’t spend as much time with them as you did with Jos and Chelsea, but it felt like you knew them better than you knew Jos and Chelsea, anyway. Ice and KK were two menacing peas in a pod – they were like sisters separated at birth and whenever they were together, something chaotic was bound to happen, but they loved and protected fiercely despite the way they teased each other and the team. Caroline was like the team mother and many of the girls called her such. Nika was intense on the court, but off of it, she was Paige’s twin through and through – they always had something to say to each other and their banter often brought smiles to everyone’s faces. Azzi was sweet and well-loved by the team (and the student population in general). She introduced you to her and Paige’s son Ines, which confused you at first, but Paige threw her arm over your shoulder and assured you that they’re only co-parenting because Carol has enough children and they didn’t want Ines to be a ward of the court. You couldn’t help but smile at that, leaning into Paige – something about the team’s dynamic healed you a little, and Ines joked that Paige went out and got her a stepmom.

You felt the blush creep up your neck as Paige tightened her grip around you slightly. “I didn’t want you to find out like this, son,” Paige had said somberly, pretending to look sad as Azzi rolled her eyes. “Your mother was havin’ an affair–”

“Oh, bullshit!” Azzi cried. The entire room broke out into fits of giggles.

“Now I understand why Paige wifed up a lawyer,” KK said in between laughter. “Tryna get a discount on that divorce, huh?”

The team had tears in their eyes from their excitement – you didn’t have the heart to tell them you were hoping to specialize in civil litigation, so you just laughed along. The conversation continued to flow as games were played. Nika was exceptionally bad at UNO and Paige never let her hear the end of it. You guys only managed to play a couple of rounds before Nika suddenly got good and played a +4, prompting Ice and KK to stack +4s of their own onto it – Paige stared in disbelief for a solid thirty seconds before picking up 12 cards and rage-quitting one turn later when KK skipped her.

“There, there,” you’d said, lips trembling as you tried not to laugh at the look on Paige’s face. You rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, and she pushed you off her gently, her own lips quirking in amusement. “Show this card game who’s boss.”

“Bro,” she grumbled, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she leaned back into the couch, her arm finding home over the back of your shoulders once more. You remember wondering if this is what normal felt like, what finally finding a community was like – you fit in too well with Paige’s teammates and they made you feel at home. Being near Paige made you feel at home. She was talented that way. She had an uncanny ability to make people feel at ease, regaling them with jokes and an endless supply of charm. When you realized you were in love with Paige Bueckers, you weren’t surprised about it. If anything, you might have been a little upset with yourself – you were sure you weren’t the only person she’d drawn in unintentionally, ensnared in a web whose latticework was meticulously shaped like basketball netting.

As the night went on, more and more laughs were shared until the clock reached midnight and many of Paige’s teammates got up to leave. Everyone shared hugs and affectionate goodnights. All of them even looped around to hug you – which was… nice. Paige shared her apartment with Azzi and Aubrey, so they retired to their own rooms after curious glances to you and Paige, still curled up together on the couch.

The apartment was quiet. You could hear the ring of silence as it enveloped the two of you, Paige’s gentle breathing, and the tick of the clock. It was oddly comforting; normally, it would have lulled you into a drowsy state, but you couldn’t focus on anything but the heat of Paige’s body next to yours, the brush of her thumb against your shoulder. Feeling both unmoored and tethered, you shift next to Paige, gathering her attention. “I should go,” you’d whispered. Her thumb halted.

“Stay,” she requested. She tilted her head. Her gaze met yours. You expected her eyes to be half-closed, dim with sleep. The rasp of her voice was attributed to a tone you knew she’d adopt when she was exhausted, but her eyes were wide, alert, dilated, a blue so dark you were sure you almost mistook the sheer want for something else. “Stay,” she murmured again. “Please.”

“Yeah,” you agreed almost breathlessly, feeling her hand squeeze your shoulder gently. “Sure.” She untangles from you and stands from the couch, offering you her hand, and you take it. She led you seamlessly through the dark of her apartment into her bedroom, where she released you long enough to rifle through her drawers, having found you a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt for you to wear to bed. Paige pointed you towards the bathroom. You changed into her clothes. Your fingers had shook with anticipation at the sheer domesticity of it all as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your – her – t-shirt read HOPKINS GIRLS BASKETBALL. It had all felt so different now. You hadn’t been sure at the moment if it terrified you or excited you.

You exited the bathroom to find Paige’s back to you, adjusting the band of a pair of basketball shorts around her hips. Her hair was out of her bun and it cascaded down her back in loose, wavy strands; you’d felt an inexplicable urge to run your fingers through it, to find out if her hair was as soft as it looked. She was wearing a dark black sports bra. The two of you were friends. Granted, you were in love with her, but the sight of her wearing nothing but ball shorts and her Nike bra shouldn’t have done the things it did to you.

“Which side is yours?” you’d asked, mostly to break the silence. You ignored the crack in your voice. Paige paid it no mind as she turned, which forced you to avert your eyes, trying not to glance at her abdominals.

“Don’t matter,” she responded. You watched the way she moved, sitting low on the bed, legs long and stark against the purple of her comfort. “You gettin’ in or what?” You hoped she couldn’t see the flush on your neck. You slid into bed next to her, hoping to maintain some sort of distance, but she refused to let you get too far. She slung her arm over your waist, fingers brushing against your skin where your shirt rode up. Her breath was even against your neck and the heat of her body nearly turned your brain into mush. “This okay?” she asked, tone softer.

“Mhm,” you hummed, afraid to speak or you might fuck up and tell her just how okay it actually was. Paige was just a touchy person, you tried to remind yourself as you felt the tickle of her hair against the nape of your neck. This doesn’t mean anything to her. It was all for naught. It did little to quell the way your heart raced, the way the heat pooled low in your belly.

“You looked good tonight,” she said casually. You tried to stop the goosebumps as they rose on your flesh. “You always do.”

Unable to think of something smart to say, you shifted your body slightly, your fingers splaying over the arm she held tight around your midsection. “Oh, yeah?” Her fingers brushed a little lower on your stomach, grazing the waistband of your shorts.

She hummed an affirmative, pulling you tighter against herself, and you could barely breathe. It was overwhelming in the best way – she was all around you. Physically, you felt as though you were in her skin as she greedily pulled you in. The scent of her was everywhere; the shampoo that seeped into her pillows, the cologne on her neck. Your hair stood on end as her lips brushed almost imperceptibly against the shell of your ear. “‘M glad you came tonight,” she whispered.

You flipped on your side, face-to-face with Paige. Her arm moved enough for you to get situated and once you were, her hand found the small of your back, her palm warm against your skin. You can’t help the way your breath hitched, even as Paige’s eyes seemed to take in the stuttering rise and fall of your chest. Having found some courage, you poked her cheek, drawing her eyes back up to yours. “What are we doing?” you asked finally, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. Her brow raised slightly, the dark blue of her gaze illuminated by the streaks of moonlight through her window. “No funny shit, Paige. You touch me like you want me, claim me in front of your friends.” You searched her eyes as she fell silent. “What are we doing?” you repeated, voice firmer.

“I want you,” she confessed after a few heartbeats of contemplation. She leaned in closer to you, your noses nearly brushing, and she continued, “I want you so fucking bad. Don’t wanna do anything you’ont want, but–”

Your lips were on hers before she had the chance to finish. She responded eagerly, one hand firm around your waist as she flipped the both of you over, pulling you to straddle her waist. You leaned down, your chest against hers, hands on each side of her neck. You felt the thundering of her pulse under your fingers. It was stabilizing in a sense – words were one thing, but to feel how badly you’d been able to affect her, too, did wonders for your growing ego. Paige’s hands had found your hips, keeping you pressed against her body.

You parted briefly to catch your breath. Paige’s chest heaved, her lips shiny and swollen. She was hard to look away from. For a moment, you’d wondered if this was worth it. Your heart had raced, beating uncontrollably; it felt like too much and not enough at the same time. Everything would change between the two of you. Was one night with Paige worth the risk of losing your friendship? You feel too strongly, too much, overwhelmingly. You’ve been told by an ex or two that you were simply too much. You wouldn’t want to subject Paige to that.

Her right hand met your face, tracing the line of your bottom lip. “You want this?” she asked. Her eyes were blown wide, more pupil than iris, but something about it entranced you. The desire in her eyes had brought fresh heat to your stomach, but coupled with the fact she’d be willing to stop made your heart beat a little faster. She was enough to quell your worries, settling the irregularity of your thoughts. You nodded, leaning down to connect your lips again, but her hand was insistent against your jaw as she held you back. “Words,” she commanded.

You’d barely resisted an eyeroll. “Yes, Paige,” you affirmed. Her hand loosened, eyes searching yours. “Want you.”

Her smile turned smug. “Yeah? How bad?”

The tease sent white-hot desire straight through your body as your hips rolled against hers, trying to find some relief. Her hands fall back down to your waist, helping you rut against her thigh as a shared flush creeped up both of your necks. “You gonna touch me?” you breathed against her lips. Her breath came out a disjointed stutter when you guided her hand to the swell of your ass. It was unnatural – Paige was so sure, so confident. To have her nearly at your mercy was like a drug through your veins, but you didn’t want her there. You wanted Paige fully in control; you wanted her to take care of you, to give you everything you’d fantasized about for months on end. You wanted her so bad it rewired the coding in your brain. There was something about her that broke down all of the walls you spent years building.

Your actions and words had been the only permission she needed. One of her hands gripped the flesh of your ass as the other one cupped the back of your neck. Her nail scratched you inadvertently as she dragged you back down to connect your lips – the slight echo of pain caused you to whine against her lips, a sound she swallowed greedily before she flipped the two of you over once more. Your head fell back against her pillows as she rucked up your shirt, finding that you’d opted to not wear a bra. She groaned indulgently, one large hand coming up to squeeze one of your breasts and her mouth finding the other one.

You ran your fingers through her hair, gripping it tight as she lavished you with attention. “So fuckin’ pretty,” she murmured against you, voice dripping with want. She pressed her knee against your core as she found her way back to your lips, kissing you deeply and drawing another whimper from your parted lips. It sent a jolt through your body. “You gon’ let me do what I want, huh? Get you right?”

“Paige, please,” you begged, all of the shame having left your body as you ground down against her knee, feeling the pleasure and relief simultaneously. “Fuck, do what you want, I don’t care – just please fucking touch me.”

She shushed you, lips back on yours, tongue brushing against your lips like she was trying to take whatever you’d give her. And at that point, you would have given her anything if it meant she’d stop teasing you. “I got you, ma, jus’ relax,” she whispered against your lips. She trailed a blazing path down your chest, leaving hickies as she went. Paige reached the waistband of your shorts; she pressed a sloppy kiss to your navel before bunching her fingers in and pulling them off, throwing them haphazardly into the room.

The air was cold against you. You were breathing heavily by then, eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. Her hand untwisted yours from the bedsheets, linking your fingers together, and that touch alone was enough to bring you back down to earth. “I got you,” she promised again, reminding you, pressing diligent kisses against the inside of your thigh. You relaxed ever so slightly against her, feeling as though you could breathe a little easier, but your body was still incredibly high strung. Paige squeezed your hand. Then her mouth was on you, and you were done for.

She held your hand as she went down on you, talking you through it until your orgasm reached its peak and you sunk into the bed bonelessly. She didn’t release you when she came back up, her smile a mix of smugness, pride, and quiet adoration. Paige kissed your knuckles, your cheeks, your lips, drawing a contented sigh out of you. “You good?” she asked, brushing your hair out of your eyes, hand cradling your jaw.

Exhausted, all you could do was hum an affirmative. Paige flashed a small smile again, pressing a kiss to your forehead and crawling off the bed, much to your surprise. “Lemme get you some water,” she said. “‘M coming right back, I promise.”

You nodded wordlessly, closing your eyes and sinking back into the pillows as your breathing evens out. She left her room, the door shutting with a silent click. In the silence of Paige’s bedroom, curled up in her purple comforter, all you can think about is how the future of your friendship has inexplicably changed forever. She said she wanted you. Did she just mean sexually? Paige was always intentional in her communication, a byproduct of her media training. Tears brimmed your eyes when you considered the idea that you might have just been another Wednesday night fling for her. Here you are again, feeling stupid about the overwhelming feelings you harbored for Paige despite your better judgment. The worst part was that it wasn’t her fault. You got your hopes up.

You wiped your eyes when you heard the door open again. Paige crossed the room, cracking open a cold bottle of water for you and pressing it to your lips. You nearly forgot about your inner turmoil when she smiled at you again, having thrown her hair back up into its bun. “Gonna clean you up, okay?” she informed you. At your nod, she runs a warm washcloth between your thighs, getting rid of the lingering stickiness. She carefully redressed you, squeezing your hips gently, and you’re left feeling so incredibly conflicted that you’re breathless with the anxiety. Paige disposed of the washcloth and curled up next to you in bed once more, an arm wrapping around your midsection. You’d told each other goodnight, but as her breath evens out against your neck, your mind races.

You slept fitfully through the night. And when morning light rolled around, you extracted yourself from Paige’s grip, sliding a pillow into her arms. The nervousness and all of your overthinking thoughts made you queasy with grief. You were in love with Paige Bueckers. That much was true. You were too head over heels for her to return to normalcy; you couldn’t. At that point, it would be easier for you to not be friends with her at all than to pretend like she wasn’t everything you’d ever wanted.

As she slept, you casted one last guilty look over your shoulder and you ran.

But that night in February has long since passed, and on the porch swing on a much warmer night in April, Paige stares at you in desperation, seeking answers to the questions you’ve withheld for over a month. “Why did you leave?” she asks you again. “Fuck, tell me the truth, lie to me, whatever, just please give me something to work with.”

“It was overwhelming,” you finally admit, twisting the rings on your fingers. You feel terrible as you glance at Paige, whose eyes soften when she takes in your expression.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shoulda seen that something was wrong.”

You close your eyes, lips trembling. You’re touched at how she instantly takes responsibility for your fuck ups, thinking she’s done something wrong. “No, Paige,” you correct her. “Fuck. It wasn’t you. It was never you.” You pick at a loose string on your shorts. She stares at you, waiting for you to continue. “You were so gentle. That night meant everything to me, and that was the problem. I wanted you so bad – Jesus Christ, I was in love with you for months. I don’t do casual. I always feel too strongly and I loved you so much that it was fucking overwhelming. I woke up and nearly lost it because I couldn’t handle the idea of having you like that and having to pretend like I didn’t want you like that forever. It was so much easier to run and not face the possibility of having to be your friend when all I’ve wanted was more.”

When you finally look back to Paige, her eyes are wide with something that looks strangely like grief, like you’ve pulled the rug from under her feet and watched as she fell. As you think about it, that’s probably what you’ve done, anyway. She spent so long thinking that your fallout was her fault, that it was something she’d done, but the ugly truth of the matter was that you were too scared of the way you felt for her that you ran from it instead. Paige runs a frustrated hand over her jaw, her expression nearly unreadable. You frown. “I’m sorry,” you say quietly, knowing that your apology is long overdue. You fucked up so incredibly bad with her. Your brain remembers her prior words, the ‘It wasn’t a hook up. It meant something to me – everything to me,’ and you suddenly feel like an idiot. God, it was mutual this entire time and you were too caught up in yourself to realize it.

“You think too fucking much,” Paige says finally, and you hardly have the time to react before she’s kissing you, her hands gripping your hips. You nearly gasp against her lips before you fully register what’s happening. Sinking into it, you wrap your arms around her neck, feeling suddenly like everything is finally aligning, that all of your blurred focal points sharpen. When she pulls away, her eyes are alight with understanding. “So, lemme get this straight. You pushed me away ‘cause you’re in love with me, then we fucked, and you thought I wouldn’t wife you up?”

You frown, feeling stupid all over again. “Well, when you put it like that…yeah?”

Paige sighs. “Fuck. Look at my lawyer – you’d send dudes to jail left and fucking right ‘cause you jump to conclusions too early. Thank God you’re not going into criminal defense.”

You shove her away from you, feeling the embarrassment bloom on your cheeks. You can’t help but laugh as you say, “You’re an asshole.”

She guffaws, reaching for your hands, intertwining your fingers. “Says you! You ghosted me for a month and let me think I fucked us up. Jesus Christ.” She twists the ring on your finger mindlessly as she searches for the right words. “Okay, lemme be really fucking clear. I’m in love with you, too. Like, I’m fuckin’ crazy about you. There is nobody but you. You aren’t too much for me – I love you for you, no ifs, ands, buts, whys, hows, nothing. I know you thought you were protecting us by pushin’ me away, but you gotta let me make that choice, too. I want this with you, alright? Will you gimme that chance?”

Her words leave the two of you in silence. You can still hear the chirp of the crickets, the thrumming from the party indoors. You can feel the way her thumb brushes over your knuckles, the way her eyes bore into yours, patiently waiting for your decision. But distinctly, you can see the plea, the desperation for you to just give into what she knows the both of you are feeling. Your anxiety and constant overthinking never ruined the two of you. It may have set you back, but you and Paige found your way back to each other. Maybe you’re not a meteor, dangerously crashing into her and disintegrating on impact. Maybe the two of you are something simpler – the moon and the tide. She was never going to let you get hurt if only you’d give her the opportunity to show you that.

So, you take that leap – whether it’s off the diving board into the pool or the cliffside into beach waves, you don’t care. You know now that Paige is waiting for you at the surface. “I want this, too,” you affirm, watching the smile bloom on her face like springtime flowers, and you seal the deal by pressing your lips to hers. She responds eagerly, her arms tight around you. You loathe that it took the two of you this long, that it was your fault for not trusting Paige with your heart when she’s given you no real reason to doubt her; despite this, her lips taste like forgiveness and yours like atonement. In spite of everything, you made it here in the end, and it was worth it.

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

Jason should have expected this to one day be the exception. When on the other side of his fathers fists.

He's Red Hood a villain but he's never felt more like Jason Todd with his Dad's hand wrapped around his throat.

As light fades to black as the Robins breath escapes

What were the chances for both Father and Mother to take the life from their child.

[directdogman]

random DSaF thing I'm not sure if people picked up on.

Something significant about the DSaF 3 phones that popped into my head while I was writing the last post comparing Peter's DSaF 2 and DT incarnations that I didn't bother mentioning bc it was long enough

Harry and Jake are actually parallels to Steven + Peter respectively with a few major differences applied. (warning a LOT of text:)

Both Harry + Steven are generation 1 phones. They're both shown to be fairly by the book and are able to completely turn off their empathy when situations call for it. Both are completely disconnected from their former identities in a way that the other phones aren't. To further cement this connection, Harry is even shown to be the one that sent Steven to the factory. If an employee dies in your restaurant, Harry's response to it is pretty much what Steven's would've been.

Ultimately, he is a company man, like Steven. Just like Steven trying to save himself by any means necessary in DSaF 1, his confrontation in DSaF 3's evil route specifically talks about how much you've cost him and while he clearly feels disgust with you, he more so drills the futility and sheer callousness of what you're doing in rather than really tries to make you feel bad for the bad things you do. He speaks to you like you're more of a failure than anything else. You're not HIS employee, but as the former head of the franchise, speaking to the person who just killed it for the final time. He focuses on what you specifically took away from him, turning the conversation back to himself. His final words are a cold goodbye. His response to your actions is close to what Steven's could've been in this situation.

Ultimately, he's even more of an insider than Steven and someone with more of a direct connection to the cycle of misery that occurred at Freddy's. Basically, several of Steven's defining qualities are amped up in different ways.

Peter on the other hand, is not a company man. He's a gen 2 phoney, more in touch with his personal identity and in the good ending of 2, even escapes in order to reunite with his old lost family. He's generally a chiller boss than Steven, clearly caring more about the well-being of staff/customers than making the company happy.

Jake, similarly, also is in touch with his personal identity. Like Peter, he escaped in order to find his family, but as his backstory scene in 3 points out, this didn't go to plan. Jake, on the surface, seems like a polar opposite to Peter in how overtly cynical he is, a word he deliberately uses to describe himself in his DSaF 3 callout. However, this actually masks something that's more evident if you listen to him in certain key scenes.

Jake cares about others. A LOT. I based his characterization on a George Carlin quote: 'Scratch [the surface of] a cynic and you'll find a disappointed idealist'. It shows what Peter could've been if he'd never reconnected with his family or been able to correct any of the ills he came across. Someone who was worn down by life and put up walls as a result. But, the underlying care is still there and affects his decisions/words at key moments.

If you read his equivalent callout in 3 very carefully, there's some pretty strong parallels to Peter's callout in 2. He notably drills home the fact that you abused the trust of customers so you could feed like a monster. He mentions having higher hopes for you, hoping you were going to be someone better. Even after all Jack's done, he still expresses shock that he feels no remorse at all. His scene ends with a much harsher line, commanding Jack to never contact him again, akin to Peter's closing line in the equivalent 2 scene.

Also, notably, he breaks the no cursing Phone Guy rule in the scene. His reaction if an employee gets springlocked at your location is also noticeably more Peter-esque, remembering what he went through and not wanting another person to turn out the same, in contrast to Harry deciding to just go by the book, a decision that directly led to the creation of Steven pre-DSaF 1.

Okay, that's about it. I bet there's people out there who caught this (knowing me, I've said all of this before and forgot about it) but I figured a few people might find it interesting regardless. thanks, everyone!

[changisworld]

Humiliation with Jeongin.

->Humiliation kink: A humiliation kink is intentional participation in an activity that involves being humiliated, beaten, bound, or otherwise abused, including verbally, to experience sexual excitement.

Word count:1,845

->Smut warnings: Jeongin is MEAAAN, PIV, degradation, body cumshot, hair pulling, pinching, so much dirty talk, 2 slaps, sir kink, hint of a second round

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post, 18+ MDNI!!

Kinktober masterlist here

Main masterlist here

You would have bet your entire life savings on the fact that Jeongin would be a sub or at least a switch when you were first getting to know him & first started dating, but then you would have ended up bankrupt, because he is in fact the complete opposite.

You, in his eyes, have crossed a line & pissed him off by apparently flirting with Bangchan at a movie night you were at with Jeongin(you were just sitting between jeongin & chan, that is flirting in his eyes apparently) so of course the minute you get home he ‘needs’ to set a firm reminder.

“get naked n meet me in the bedroom in two minutes, you know how to sit.” Jeongin barks as he takes off his coat & places it on the rack, kicking off his trainers & storming past you, not even looking at you in the eyes & you shudder at the coldness of his words & you take a quiet huff as you take off your own jacket before almost running to the bedroom.

You kick off your flats & strip from your leggings & Jeongins shirt that you’ve claimed for your own & you ponder for a moment before deciding to keep your underwear & bra on, biting your bottom lip in anticipation as you settle down on your knees, the carpet burning your kneecaps but you choose to ignore it as you settle down right in front of the bedroom door, & just a couple of minutes later, you can hear Jeongin walking down the hall before entering the room.

The smell of his baby powder & vanilla shampoo fills your nose & you find it comforting, but the second you see the way his fox eyes are staring down at you, that quickly disappears.

“Are you seriously that fucking stupid? i told you to get naked & you can’t even do that right.” he says, a hint of disgust in his voice, & you have to mentally remind yourself that he doesn’t really mean it.

“thought it would look nice for you” you respond, trying to make your voice sound monotone, but he can see right through it.

“no, you’re just incapable of listening, you just wanna hide your tits from me because they’re covered in hickies, who gave you them?” he cackles as he grabs your cheek with his long fingers, pinching it tightly & you hold back a hiss.

“you. y-you gave me them” you reply, eyes glossy as you look up at him & he smiles at you, but you can tell it’s full of venom. “& who am i? tell me” he snarks back instantly, faking a pout.

“you, sir, can I touch you?” you ask, your voice a higher pitch than usual, trying to sound more innocent & Jeongin rolls his eyes at your words. “Take your bra off, then i’ll think about it.” he whips back at you as he pulls his own sweatpants down just enough, along with his boxers to let his cock spring free & he just lets it hang, putting his own pleasure aside for now just to watch you, red tip red & leaky already, the most delicious shine around the entire tip which makes your mouth fill with drool.

You nod your head at his words & you unclasp your bra before letting it fall right in front of you on the floor bed or returning your hands behind your back, the brown healing hickies & also the newer, still a purple-reddish colour & Jeongins cock jumps at the sight.

“Maybe you can listen to me! beg for my cock & i’ll give you it.” he chuckles as he holds the base of his cock before jerking himself off slowly & you let out a displeased moan at the sight before you look up at him with puppy eyes.

“please sir, just gimme it, i’ll do anything, please!” you plead as you shift from side to side, trying to ease the discomfort on your knees, the carpet digging in, & it seems to be that Jeongin takes the tiniest ounce of pity on you.

“on the bed then seeing since you’re too much of a fucking baby to handle even being on the floor" he speaks up, his voice sounding annoyed as he walks past you, rolling his eyes as he sets himself on the bed & sitting against the head board, still fully clothed with just his long cock out & you follow him like a lost kitten.

You situate yourself on his lap, because you both know that this is how this usually goes at this point & Jeongin grabs the top of your panties & pulls it towards him before letting go so the fabric smacks against your skin & your hips buck & he chuckles meanly.

"You can do the job of holding them to the side, mkay? Turn around & ride me, don't want to look at you when you're being so gross towards my own friends." he almost growls & you whimper.

"Innie I only sat next to him, wanna kiss you, i'm sorry." you sniffle, holding back tears as you lay your hands on his chest, your covered core resting on his bare cock but he doesn't give in to your pretty face, instead he reaches behind you & grabs a handful of your hair before tugging you only inches away from his face, giving it a light slap on your right cheek, grinning at the way you whimper.

"Stop making excuses you sound ridiculous, get a grip y/n, you knew what you were doing & now you can deal with it, don't make me repeat myself." his voice decorated with venom as he helps you flip around & picks up his cock, jerking himself off as you hover above him.

"You don't need prep, do you? probably wet enough from pretty much fawning over Chan all night." he speaks from behind you as his tip drags through your folds a couple of times before it's piercing you & before you can push yourself down onto him slowly enough to adjust, Jeongin is forcing your hips down on his cock & you let out a pained hiss at the overwhelming burning sensation.

“cmon, make me cum” jeongin says deadpan, but you don’t miss the way his toes curl in front of you. You let out a whimper as you pick your hips up & then clash them back down, trying to set a pace that doesn’t kill you with how long his cock is, eating your cervix & probably pushing it further into you.

The painful stretch turns into pleasure as you start to bounce on him & you’re doing your best to not be too loud so you can hear Jeongins moans behind you, but he is having none of it.

“don’t be so quiet, lemme hear how good I’m making you feel, could chan make you feel like this?” he purrs & you let out a small squeak as he purposely moves his hips just a smidge & his tip punches into your G-spot which makes your legs tremble, your pace faltering.

“N-no jeo-sir! only you.” you reply & he just chuckles as he gives your ass a spank, eyes entranced in the way your ass is jiggling in front of him, making his cock twitch inside you as squelching noises of your cunt fills the room, your cunt clenching at the sounds bouncing off of the walls.

Jeongin smuggly looks at you from behind & before you can even realise, Jeongin is grabbing your arms that were leaning on his knees as you were bouncing & pulls your arms behind you, forcing all of your weight on your legs.

Your eyes widen at the stretch but also the new angle & you can feel your orgasm bubbling up inside you.

“gonna cu-cum, please! le-lemme cum” you squeal as you use the rest of your strength to try bounce quicker to push you over the edge quicker but Jeongin is quick to push you forward so your ass is in the air & he pulls out of you before he rolls you on your back & settles himself between your legs, his soaked cock making his hand wet.

Jeongin grabs the soaked through fabric of your panties that had been digging into your right inner thigh when you had shoved them to the side & covers your cunt with it, your swollen clit poking through & he glues his eyes to it as he starts jerking himself off above your panties, angling himself so his tip fucks against your now sheen panties & you let out a moan of desperation.

“Wan- cum!” you bark at him & he detaches his eyes from your cunt that he’s fucking against & not in & looks at you, both of you showing fucked our faces, his sharp eyes full of lust, an animalistic look filling them.

“maybe you should have thought about that then, hmm?” he teases & you shut your legs to try retaliate, but Jeongin pinches your inner thigh until you let out a yelp & you reopen your legs & he dips his cock under your panties, your cunt rubbing his cock on the underside & your soiled underwear hugging his top part & he rolls his head back, this time him being the one moaning.

“gonna cum on your panties for you, you want that hmm? you can wear these with Chan & ask him to tell you how i taste” he chuckles, trying to hide how so beyond pissed he is at just the thought of what he is saying & with a low, guttural groan, thin ropes of cum shoots from his tip, your wet panties catching a lot & keeping it on your shaved pube area but a bit still lands on your lower tummy.

You look up at him, getting butterflies & even more soaked at the sight of his pretty face as he comes undone, his eyes scrunched shut as his fluffy hair now damp & sticking to his face & his cheeks a blushed colour.

He pants as his orgasm settles back down & he looks down at you, his eyes completely different & you’re not complaining because even though Jeongin can be so so so mean during sex, his post nut clarity always makes him feel a tiny bit ‘guilty’ in a way & he instantly becomes thee sweetest person.

He strips your panties from you & pretty much jumps on you, kissing you.

“I love you, don’t take anything of what i said personally, didn’t mean it!” he murmurs between pecks & you can’t help but blush.

“I know innie, don’t stress” you respond, caging him above you with your arms as you hug him but he wiggles free & shimmies down.

“i’ll make you cum since you were so good to me, wanna show my apology.” he says, his face plastered with his usual cheeky look.

->Taglist & anon list are open!

@ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @jisungml @minniesverse @mikaelless @missystay @lixies-favorite-cookie @kissesmellow21 @keshet21

(if your name is NOT in grey, it’s because it wouldn’t let me tag you :( )

[wiisagi-maiingan]

I love watching youtube videos about tiktok and influencer drama, mainly because I'm completely disconnected from stuff like that (I have never watched an influencer video in my life) so it gives me the thrill of true crime without the tragedy exploitation aspect, but sometimes I also feel completely disconnected from the youtubers too?

Like every youtuber has to offer up a million disclaimers about how they aren't judging influencers or whatever and that's usually fine but like. I do feel that there ARE points where people need to be judged for the content they're sharing and promoting and profiting off of!

"I'm not judging tradwives or saying their content is bad—" I am!! I am absolutely judging tradwives! Extremely harshly! Because the entire "tradwife" movement is conservative propaganda based on misogynistic and patriarchal ideas about history with no basis in reality or in our modern world! And tradwife influencers explicitly target young women and especially teen girls and try to convince them to put their entire lives in the hands of their husbands, which is a horrific recipe for domestic abuse!

These women making hundreds of thousands of dollars off tiktok videos (and often coming from extremely wealthy families) are out here telling young girls that they don't need an education, that they don't need their own income, that if they're just pretty enough and obedient enough then they'll find a rich husband and never have to worry about anything ever and it's fucking scary! And I don't know why we are tolerating it!

We know what happens when people, especially women, give up complete control to their partners. We know what that leads to, resentment and extreme control and total lack of options when things go from totally fine to constant arguing to violence. These influencers, who ARE making extremely significant personal incomes from their jobs as influencers online, lie through their fucking teeth about how perfect it is that their husbands do everything for them and all they have to do is take care of the kids and home (with the help of nannies and housekeepers and personal chefs off-screen. . .) and about how they've escaped from capitalism, meanwhile the people actually in those situations who AREN'T making all that extra cash are either already in abusive relationships or they're in incredibly precarious positions where they could end up abused or thrown out with nothing in an instant.

I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to be a homemaker or stay-at-home parent. I don't think it's wrong to not want to go to college or have a 9-5.

But you NEED options. You need full access to your own money that can't be monitored or controlled by a partner. You need access to a vehicle. You need a life outside of your home and family, especially friends who are willing and able to help you if needed. You need the ability to survive on your own in some way. Because if and when things go wrong in the relationship, THOSE are the things that will save your life.

Also remember that again, these tradwives DO have jobs and their jobs involve selling a fake lifestyle and fake ideals. They are getting paid BIG TIME for the shit they peddle to you, whether that's through the millions of views they get (both from genuine fans and from haters, the algorithm doesn't know or care about the difference) or the many sponsorships they get, they have incomes that they are not disclosing. They have help that they are not disclosing. Many of them started out with extreme wealth but lie through their teeth and cosplay as fucking homesteading peasants. It's all a lie to sell shit to you. Don't buy it.

Disclaimer: Please do not nitpick this post, it's very late and I'm ranting and if this leaves my circle of followers I will regret it deeply. Be nice. Tradwives dni, you're all annoying.

[baby-tini]

Thank you so much @mostlyheinous for letting me make a little post based off your one Dabi audio. I hope I made you proud. 😭

TW: abusive relationship, degradation, physical abuse, verbal abuse, toxic Dabi.

Dabi is an asshole, you knew that, hell- everyone knew that. He never tried to hide it, never feigned nice, never even tried to give a compliment. He absolutely didn't know shit about privacy and personal space, either that or he just didn't care. You're willing to bet it's the former. So it's no big surprise when Dabi bursts into your room unannounced, with a scowl. He looks severely unhappy, looking you up and down and scoffing.

"What's your problem?" you ask with a sneer, adjusting your dress. He stands quiet for a minute before rolling his eyes and giving your dress a once-over. "You look like a slut," he shrugs, shutting your door and throwing your clothes mindlessly on the floor, and plopping down on your bed- if you can even call it that, putting his nasty, muddy shoes on your comforter.

Whipping around, you throw a tube of lipgloss at him, but unfortunately he catches it, throwing it to the side. "Who the fuck are you talking too? Get the hell out Dabi, go bother someone else." You scowl at him, turning back towards the mirror. He stares at you for a moment, getting up he grabs you by the hair, wrapping it around his fist and yanking you up. There's an immediate struggle on your side, hitting at his hand and pushing his chest.

"Who the fuck am I talking too? I'm talking to you bitch," there's a slap to your face, one of his rings catches your bottom, busting it open. "The fuck are you even wearing, huh? You found a new job at the street corner? How much you make a night sucking cock, hm? You let anyone fuck you, don't you? I fucking knew you felt looser, dirty bitch." There's blood leaking down your chin, getting on your chest and staining your dress. You try to push him away but he just slaps your hands away, grabbing your face, squeezing your cheeks together.

"Dabi stop!! Let go, you're hurting me," your crying now, mascara leaking down your cheeks. Dabi rubs at your wet eyes, ruining your eyeliner in the process, he snarls at you. "Shut the fuck up, I'm not hurting you, dumb bitch." He spits on his hand, rubbing it all over your face. "There all better, now you look a little less ugly," he grins.

You're sobbing now, repeatedly attempting to push his hand away, slapping at his chest. He ignores your attempt of a broken struggle, pulling you towards the bed and throwing you on it back first. Climbing on top of you, he rips your dress open. "Stop, stop, this was expensive."

He stops at that, looking up at you, he laughs in your face. Singeing the rest of your dress, he leans back with narrowed eyes. "That shit was expensive? That fucking rag costed money? It wasn't even covering shit, you had your fucking tits out and everything- if you can even call these tits," he grabs handfuls of your chest. Pulling at your nipples through your bra and spitting on your chest. "These barely pass for a fucking B cup." His saliva drips down the valley of your breasts, making them sticky.

"Dabi... please stop, please.." your voice comes out in a croak, chest still heaving with sobs. He scoffs at you, climbing off you and running a hand through his hair. It's quiet for a few minutes, cept for your sniffles now and again. "I told you I didn't want you going out, you didn't fucking listen to me. This is all your fault you know... if you're gonna blame someone blame yourself." You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing before you nod at him. He hums at you, "are you gonna listen next time- actually there won't be a next time. You're not allowed to go out anymore if I'm not with you. I don't care if Toga asks, you come to me first." You nod at him, pushing yourself up on your hands, "I'll ask Dabi, I promise." He nods at you, "good." Throwing a make-up wipe at you, he leaves.

[atopvisenyashill]

that bit about joffrey is FASCINATING have you ever written about this in depth? I've always loved his character but I would never be able to like. Describe why exactly he is the way he is so I really appreciate your analysis of him loving BOTH parents and incorporating only their flaws - I always just assumed that he hates his dad and is annoyed by cersei (still loves her) but then the way we sexually humiliates and abuses sansa etc is so robert-coded like of course he emulates the bevavior of his father.

Also slightly off topic but i always forget that Joffrey is like canonically so good at all the proper princely things (thinking of that scene at Sansa and Tyrion's wedding when she's so upset that a monster like Joff could be so good at dancing) and - not to go on about GOT again - but I wish we had actually gotten to see that and him being charming etc. Huge props to the show for giving Joff the perfect wardrobe (the only thing they did right) but also f them for waiting all that potential

yes, they really said joff gets to have all the swag and then the moment he died they put cersei in that fuck ass bob and no one in the lannisters was allowed to serve again smh. and thank youuu i actually had to stop myself from rambling over him before haha, but i'll go into more detail here! so this was the comment from the other post-

joffrey is a kid just ruled by his first, most base instinct. his instincts, his core emotions, tell him to love and trust both robert and cersei, and imo he twists himself into a MONSTER to try to appeal to both of them. no one else matters - not his siblings, not his uncle, not his grandfather, not the realm. he needs to be the sort of vicious person they could both be proud of, he needs to be better than them both at violence, so he absorbs all of their faults and none of their virtues.

i definitely do see very often that people feel he only loves one or the other parent and while I do understand that reading, I don't think it's quite how Joffrey operates. I think he does love them both, and holds them both in high esteem. I do agree that he's annoyed by Cersei but that doesn't mean he doesn't value her opinion (as much as Joffrey puts value on anyone else's opinion, I mean).

Joffrey and Cersei

Joffrey relies on his mother more than almost any other male character we see in the series. We see him call for Cersei basically every time he's hurt, in trouble, or wanting to whine about something. Not only that, but you have everyone from Robert to Renly to Tywin himself saying that Joffrey is doted upon and inseparable from his mother. A few choice quotes:

"Fear is better than love, Mother says." Joffrey pointed at Sansa. "She fears me."

He takes Cersei's lessons to heart, however flawed they are. Her opinion matters to him, he wants her to see him as strong.

Nine cases out of ten seemed to bore him; those he allowed his council to handle, squirming restlessly while Lord Baelish, Grand Maester Pycelle, or Queen Cersei resolved the matter. When he did choose to make a ruling, though, not even his queen mother could sway him.

It's Cersei he listens to the most. We know that if a little King, even with his mother as Regent, doesn't want to deal with her, he can simply ignore her - that's what Jaehaerys does with Alyssa, after all. But Joffrey doesn't do this; he'll fight with her, he'll insult her, and he's not shy about doing it in public but he never disregards her out of hand.

Joffrey lurched to his feet. "I'm king! Kill him! Kill him now! I command it." He chopped down with his hand, a furious, angry gesture . . . and screeched in pain when his arm brushed against one of the sharp metal fangs that surrounded him. The bright crimson samite of his sleeve turned a darker shade of red as his blood soaked through it. "Mother!" he wailed.

His instinct, every time, is to turn to her for help. He loves her. He adores her. She's the only person around who tells him he's strong and smart and will be a good king. He leans on her for guidance, for comfort, he talks to her about fucking whores. He shares everything with her because he doesn't have a single friend. She models anger and violence for him constantly, she excuses his disturbing proclivities, so he molds himself to be the person she wants him to be, the king she wants him to be. People - including Tyrion and Tywin! - are always wondering why Cersei is blind to his cruelty, but the reality is she knew he was cruel and loved him for it.

Tommen did as he was bid. His meekness troubled her. A king had to be strong. Joffrey would have argued. He was never easy to cow.

For Cersei, cruelty is strength and in her eyes, Joffrey is as strong as they come. This isn't by accident; just like his constant cries for her are reinforced by her rushing to coddle him, his cruelty is reinforced by a mother who sees it as strength. It's almost like what Coldhands says to Bran - Joffrey is a monster, yes, but in Cersei's eyes, Joffrey is her monster.

Joffrey and Robert

Joffrey had never had a close friend of his own age, that she recalled. The poor boy was always alone. I had Jaime when I was a child . . . and Melara, until she fell into the well. Joff had been fond of the Hound, to be sure, but that was not friendship. He was looking for the father he never found in Robert.

From Cersei's point of view, I think she knows very well that Joffrey is searching for love, acceptance, and himself in Robert. She doesn't like it, but she seems to accept that it's natural for Joffrey to search for some sort of father figure, and doesn't seem to begrudge him that - imo, I think because she knows Robert is always going to reject Joffrey for his cruelty.

“Why would he [care]? Robert ignored him. He would have beat him if I’d allowed it. That brute you made me marry once hit the boy so hard he knocked out two of his baby teeth, over some mischief with a cat. I told him I’d kill him in his sleep if he ever did it again, and he never did, but sometimes he would say things…”

Whenever they interact, the few times they do, there's violence. People always take this as Cersei not allowing Robert to "teach" or "properly discipline" Joffrey but, well...does the above seem like helpful discipline? Knocking out your child because he freaked you out? Punishing extreme violence with more extreme violence? And it's not just Cersei that this moment sticks with, because Stannis brings it up as well-

"Joffrey . . . I remember once, this kitchen cat . . . the cooks were wont to feed her scraps and fish heads. One told the boy that she had kittens in her belly, thinking he might want one. Joffrey opened up the poor thing with a dagger to see if it were true. When he found the kittens, he brought them to show to his father. Robert hit the boy so hard I thought he'd killed him."

Since Cersei says Robert would "say things" and we see him threatening Cersei (the "or I'll honor you again" line), I don't think it's a stretch to say that Robert threatened to beat Joffrey nearly to death several times over.

And yet...Joffrey compliments his father, especially in comparison to his other relatives.

He wrenched free of her. "Why should I? Everyone knows it's true. My father won all the battles. He killed Prince Rhaegar and took the crown, while your father was hiding under Casterly Rock." The boy gave his grandfather a defiant look. "A strong king acts boldly, he doesn't just talk."

And Cersei believes this came from Robert-

"Father, I am sorry," Cersei said, when the door was shut. "Joff has always been willful, I did warn you . . ." "There is a long league's worth of difference between willful and stupid. 'A strong king acts boldly?' Who told him that?" "Not me, I promise you," said Cersei. "Most like it was something he heard Robert say . . ."

And of course, Jaime is the one who pieces together why Joffrey sent the catspaw-

“Yes, I hoped the boy would die. So did you. Even Robert thought that would have been for the best. ‘We kill our horses when they break a leg, and our dogs when they go blind, but we are too weak to give the same mercy to crippled children’ he told me. He was blind himself at the time, from drink.” Robert? Jaime had guarded the king long enough to know that Robert Baratheon said things in his cups that he would have denied angrily the next day. “Were you alone when Robert said this?” “You don’t think he said it to Ned Stark, I hope? Of course we were alone. Us and the children.” Cersei removed her hairnet and draped it over a bedpost, then shook out her golden curls. “Perhaps Myrcella sent this man with the dagger, do you think so?” It was meant as mockery, but she’d cut right to the heart of it, Jaime saw at once. “Not Myrcella. Joffrey.” Cersei frowned. “Joffrey had no love for Robb Stark, but the younger boy was nothing to him. He was only a child himself .” “A child hungry for a pat on the head from that sot you let him believe was his father.”

When you put it all together, you have a child who is ignored by his father unless he's being threatened with a beating, who is constantly calling him a monster, who watches his father harm and humiliate his mother day in and day out, who has no other paternal figure around but this violent, angry man who he is supposed to model himself off of, and a mother who encourages his cruelty because she believes it's the only way to protect herself, to protect her son. He's not just emulating his mother's cruelty, he's emulating Robert's violence specifically when he humilates Sansa at court, when he openly talks shit about Cersei - it's what he's seen modeled for him as kingly behavior!

The Abuse And Jaime Of It All

King Joffrey's face hardened. "My mother tells me that it isn't fitting that a king should strike his wife. Ser Meryn."

He knows Robert is abusing Cersei and he takes her dislike of it seriously even as he doesn't make the connection that she means he shouldn't be striking his wife period. Whether it's because Cersei directly told him (which could make sense; she's purposefully hiding it from Jaime but perhaps she confided in Joffrey) or because he witnessed it himself, he's aware of the abuse enough that he takes his mother's comments about not personally striking Sansa to heart.

"No," [Robert] thundered in a voice that drowned out all other speech. Sansa was shocked to see the king on his feet, red of face, reeling. He had a goblet of wine in one hand, and he was drunk as a man could be. "You do not tell me what to do, woman," he screamed at Queen Cersei. "I am king here, do you understand? I rule here, and if I say that I will fight tomorrow, I will fight!" Everyone was staring. Sansa saw Ser Barristan, and the king's brother Renly, and the short man who had talked to her so oddly and touched her hair, but no one made a move to interfere. The queen's face was a mask, so bloodless that it might have been sculpted from snow. She rose from the table, gathered her skirts around her, and stormed off in silence, servants trailing behind. Jaime Lannister put a hand on the king's shoulder, but the king shoved him away hard. Lannister stumbled and fell. The king guffawed. "The great knight. I can still knock you in the dirt. Remember that, Kingslayer." He slapped his chest with the jeweled goblet, splashing wine all over his satin tunic. "Give me my hammer and not a man in the realm can stand before me!" Jaime Lannister rose and brushed himself off. "As you say, Your Grace." His voice was stiff. Lord Renly came forward, smiling. "You've spilled your wine, Robert. Let me bring you a fresh goblet." Sansa started as Joffrey laid his hand on her arm. "It grows late," the prince said. He had a queer look on his face, as if he were not seeing her at all. "Do you need an escort back to the castle?"

I think it's pretty clear that Joffrey is dissociating here which also explains his very detached way of looking at Robert's abuse of Cersei. It freaks him out enough that he uses Sansa as an excuse to leave (giving her the Hound, then running off himself) but he doesn't show it. He's not even particularly upset during this scene, not throwing a tantrum or making whiny remarks like he does when he's usually upset. He only has a "queer look" - the stress of trying to reconcile his adoration of Robert and his love of Cersei just makes him fully shut down instead of confronting it.

Joffrey gave a petulant shrug. "Your brother defeated my uncle Jaime. My mother says it was treachery and deceit. She wept when she heard. Women are all weak, even her, though she pretends she isn't. She says we need to stay in King's Landing in case my other uncles attack, but I don't care. After my name day feast, I'm going to raise a host and kill your brother myself. That's what I'll give you, Lady Sansa. Your brother's head."

I think people often take his comments about how women are weak to mean he doesn't view his mother as a competent advisor. But you notice a pattern here - he gets shitty with her when it's about Jaime specifically.

"A great many people are sorry for that," Tyrion replied, "and before I am done, some may be a deal sorrier . . . yet I thank you for the sentiment. Joffrey, where might I find your mother?" "She's with my council," the king answered. "Your brother Jaime keeps losing battles."

"She's with my council" he says, because he sees no reason to not let Cersei run things without him, something Robert never lets her do. But "your brother Jaime" not "my uncle Jaime" which is a shift because he doesn't stop calling Renly or Stannis his uncles even after they rebel. He knows, he suspects, and what he resents is not Cersei fucking Jaime but Jaime fucking Cersei.

My read on this is that Joffrey sees his mother as weak for allowing herself to be seduced by Jaime, and sees Jaime as a lecherous seducer who is the cause of all his problems. If only Jaime hadn't seduced his mother, maybe his parents wouldn't hate each other. His claim wouldn't be under question. His mother should have just taken the abuse and bided her time instead of putting herself in danger and having bastards.

He loves his mother. He loves his father. And that's the human heart in conflict with itself that resides in Joffrey. Does he honor his mother, the only parent he has, or does he honor Robert, the patriarch he is supposed to emulate? If he has no other example of what strength looks like, is he even capable of figuring out a different path for himself?

[cosmicaces]

i've never been good at writing intros to posts and that isn't gonna change today, esp since only a handful of people are probably gonna read this. i am making this post for me, because this is something i noticed and i wanna talk about it. leave it to me to make a detailed post about a character from a movie from three years ago.

rody has pstd! let's talk about it

[ID: A screenshot from MHA: World Heroes' Mission. Rody is pointing at Deku, winking. Deku looks annoyed. End ID.]

to preface this:

i am not a professional 👍 i have ptsd 👍

analyzing characters is fun for me! this is how i am interpreting rody with what i know about him from the little media he's been in + some additional speculation. feel free to incorporate this into your belief system. or not! all that i ask is that you bear with me.

now, before i get into it (preface...2!):

everyone knows about fight or flight, right? well, did you know that there are actually 5 trauma responses? fight, flight, freeze, fawn, and flop. (there may be more, but these are the ones that have the most information on them.)

fight and flight are the body's primary responses to a bad situation. freeze, fawn, and flop are more complex responses that happen when the first two aren't available. little self-explanatory, but for the sake of infodumping:

freeze: the body is in a state of hyperarousal. the muscles are tight and ready for action but is ultimately paralyzed. think of a deer in headlights.

fawn/befriend/submit: this response involves complying/befriending the aggressor; people-pleasing in an effort to remain safe. this is more common in cases of abuse.

flop/shutdown/collapse: the body is in a state of hypoarousal, aka its shutting down; muscles go slack, brain stops receiving sensory info. this can often result in fainting. you know how some people faint when they see blood? or when they're on a rollercoaster? yeah, it's this.

it's important to have this context. as a matter of fact, you probably already know where i'm going with this:

rody faints when deku is climbing up the bridge. of course, right? he had reached such a heightened level of fear that, when his brain realized it couldn't trigger one of the other four responses, he just... flopped. why bring this up? well, and i think this is easy to miss, but rody didn't pass out once. he actually passed out twice.

when they first reached the train, it appears that, in their brief moment of safety, rody had collapsed.

[ID: Deku picks up Rody to shield him from Beros's oncoming arrow attack. End ID.]

[ID: Deku is carrying Rody, swinging under the bridge in an effort to evade Beros's attacks. At the end, Rody appears as though he is coming to. End ID.]

up until this point, rody had been freaking out during their escape from the police. for him to have no initial response to being physically moved by deku... hell, he looks like he's just coming to. if we're going based off of the dub, he even yells "what's happening?!" simply put: he shut down and, more specifically, he shut down in what had been perceived as a moment of respite.

the reason i point this out is because, while we don't choose our trauma responses, there are events that can impact what they can be.

so... what is the purpose of the flop response?

quoting from an article here, but it's thought to help people in three different ways: to reduce the mental impact of the circumstances, to cause a physical disconnect (thus experiencing the trauma less directly), and to prevent additional assault.

the point i'm trying to make here is, well...

[ID: A flashback showing Rody protecting his siblings. A villain strikes him with a pipe. End ID.]

rody's been assaulted! and this is only one instance that we know of. we don't fully know what he's had to go through when providing for his siblings, but there is no doubt that there have been negative repercussions on his mentality.

did you notice how he startles easily?

[ID: Rody puts his hand on Deku's shoulder, scaring him. His response startles Rody, causing him to flinch backwards. End ID.]

[ID: Bakugou suddenly appears behind Rody, causing him to jump. He flinches back, turning to face him. Pino is also startled, flying to sit over on his other shoulder. End ID.]

with ptsd, some people can develop an exaggerated startle response. this happens when your nervous system gets stuck in survival mode. your brain is hypervigilant; any sudden sound or movement that you don't expect can make you feel like you're in danger and your body has to be ready to react in a given moment.

look at the difference between how deku and rody flinch. deku has a standard flinch, but rody violently flinches, almost as though he's been struck. do you see how he moves his head? his arms? how, after both instances, he's starting to sweat? yeah 👍

continuing along this line of thinking, let's talk about rody's attempted betrayal.

[ID: Rody being approached by the oni villain. He braces himself for the attack, clutching at his head. End ID.]

i feel like most people, when cornered and under the imminent threat of being attacked, try to block it or defend from it in some way. rody... didn't do that. as a matter of fact, it looks like he's trying to hide.

[ID: Deku runs towards Rody, shielding him from an arrow. Rody panics and turns away. End ID.]

additionally, in this scene, rody is apologizing. in this moment, he sincerely believed that deku was going to hurt him for his betrayal. instead of trying to run, he just... froze. braced himself again. i know he was very scared, but, despite deku having just saved him, seeing his fear at being approached... psychologically, there's something else going on here.

i think rody had been re-traumatized.

again, we only have that one flashback regarding a violent encounter with villains, but i genuinely have reason to believe that it wasn't a one-off scenario. the only reason rody tried to fight was to defend his siblings. they are his reason for continuing forward. but... what if there were times when they weren't there? and he had to face the villains by himself?

... yeah. i think that's why he responded the specific way that he did. his life was actively in danger, yes, but how many times had he been in that position? pleading, trying to garner sympathy about his siblings, wanting to be let go? i think the severity of his psychological distress in that instant is what caused him to try and hide rather than attempt to minimize any incoming damage.

as for feeling threatened by deku, that can be easily explained, too. rody talked quite a bit about betrayal, it seemed like a very natural thing to talk about. he's probably had to betray some villains and gotten hurt for it. honestly, you could probably argue that this contributed to his confusion regarding deku protecting him instead.

similarly with starting posts, i am also very bad at ending them 👍

tldr; rody soul has ptsd as a result of his encounters with villains after his father's disappearance. this has given him an exaggerated startle response as well as both a freeze/collapse response in times where his life is threatened. who knows what other symptoms he may have! what we can say for sure is that this kid needs therapy.

if you read all this, thanks! i hope you enjoyed me dissecting him like a bug.

[metalheads-trash-bin]

THIS WILL BE THE LAST TROLLS POST I EVER MAKE.

First off, thank you to those of you that continued to show all the work I make love. Thank you for caring for my work other than Trolls.

Now, onto this post and my final statements about this fandom.

I joined the fandom late, I’d always technically been a part of it but never interacted until about a year or so ago through this site. Immediately I got interaction and a good amount of followers, a lot of people enjoying my work and wanting more.

That “wanting more” slowly became harassment as I got messages every day from a select few people commanding me to continue writing or making fanart. This slowly started to seep into me but was NOT the nail in the coffin. Even as i got handfuls of asks commanding more.

The nail was how the fandom handles abuse and abusers. I am a punk person, to those of you that know my Tiktok i post a LOT of punk content and have gained so much interaction. I am well known in a lot of communities and am even trying to advocate for the people that cant. It is BASE LINE respect to “always believe the victim”. Base line. Yet as soon as a very POPULAR and HIGHLY FOLLOWED creator who is being accused of abuse posts content back showing very explicit conversations and mental breakdowns to embarrass you into silence everyone FLOCKS to them. I had so many friends in this fandom, and as soon as i was publicly HUMILIATED by him for speaking out, i was being blocked. Some of the people i used to make fanart for and support are now people i look at with fear and disgust. This includes my fans, people who BETRAYED me and did not stand with me. Didnt QUESTION why all of a sudden I deleted everything?

Let me lay things out for you all, FINALLY. Since im fucking PISSED. He BLACKMAILED ME INTO SILENCE. He got his boyfriend to THREATEN ME. And when all was said and done as i was choking on my sobs? He kept the post UP. His post with THOUSANDS of views and comments saying disgusting things about me. Because no one gave a FUCK about the fact that me and my friend both came out about horrors when it came to him and his new boyfriend.

I am so disgusted and disappointed as to how my fans reacted to this all, i had even gotten a dm PRAISING ME for going back into silence. That broke my fucking heart.

Why am i bringing this up now? Because a multitude of his art for Fliff had had messages for me. Which NO ONE but me and my fiance knew about. Dictator barb? Message. Floyd saying insults to riff? Message. Are you all that illiterate to context of someones character? Did the INCEST HE PUT ON HIS TWITTER NOT SAY ANYTHING??? JD and his BROTHER having a threesome, completely naked said NOTHING? And when someone pointed it out he said he didnt give a shit.

No one gave a FUCK. I have so much dirt on one of his friends i used to ADORE that i will never utter even though he also fucking abandoned me because he knew him longer and believed i was the wailing banshee.

So overall, trolls fandom, get your FUCKING ACT STRAIGHT. About victims. And about context.

I am a HUMAN BEING. My callout was not something to laugh at and silence just because you like the PORN he draws.

He’s once again posting after i was able to get him to fuck off from this fandom for almost a year. The relief i felt for that year was bliss. And now? I can barely fucking breathe. Once again i feel trapped.

So FUCK YOU ALL.

Have a fucking ANGRY and HURT tw of self harm under this sentence.

Good riddance, Trolls fandom. This is the last i will utter a word about the fandom or my experience. I am so disappointed.

[echo-goes-mmm]

Moonflower #18

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: domestic abuse

Kit escorted David inside.

“I shouldn’t be here,” David mumbled. “I should go home.”

“Hush,” soothed Kit. “You’ll feel better after some food.”

The servant’s entrance was less crowded, but the hall where the staff ate was full of people. Eyes landed on him and David, and he tried not to make contact with any of them.

David sniffed as they sidestepped the crowd, and Kit grabbed a napkin for his tears. He grabbed two plates of food for them as they sat in a corner.

“I don’t know what to do,” David whispered, picking at his meal.

Kit took a sip of his water. He was already finished; and his stomach yearned to ask if David was going to eat the rest of his food. He should probably eat another nighttime meal later if he didn’t want to wake up hungry.

“Why not stay in the castle? There’s servants quarters. Surely there’s space.”

“I can’t just abandon him.” David put his fork down, hanging his head. “What would Mom say?”

Kit didn’t know much about mothers and fathers. He was a proximity child, raised communally, but he knew this was wrong.

“I don’t think your mother would want you to stay with someone who hurts you.”

“He’s my father,” David weakly protested.

“What does it matter? He hits you. He takes your money. Family isn’t always good for you.”

“He’s sick!”

Kit hesitated. He didn’t know if humans died of grief like fae could, and perhaps David’s father was afflicted. “Sick with what?”

David shook his head. “He drinks, and loses his temper. It’s not his fault.”

“It isn’t your fault either.”

David worried his lip. “It isn’t your fault,” Kit repeated.

“I- If I were a better son-”

“Don’t say that,” Kit said, firm. “You are a good son. You love your father. You’ve been taking care of him.” He reached for David’s hand, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles over his hand. “He hasn’t been a good father to you.”

David sobbed, his hand coming up to hide his face. “He’s going to be so mad at me,” he wept. “He’ll hurt me.”

Kit hummed low and soft. “I won’t let him,” he said. “Mistress won’t let him.”

“As if you could stop him,” David muttered bitterly.

“What?”

“You- I mean,” he stuttered. “I’m sorry. I was going to say something rude. I didn’t mean it.”

Kit’s gut twisted. He knew what David was thinking.

 If you couldn’t protect yourself, how could you protect him?

“It’s o-” Kit choked on the lie squeezing his throat. He took a sip of water to wash it out.

“I forgive you,” he said instead, the pain settling down to a dull throb.

David took one of the napkins to wipe his face, gingerly avoiding his black eye. “Her- her majesty knows?” he asked, changing the subject.

“I told her someone was hurting you. I didn’t tell her anything else.”

“Okay.” 

They sat in silence, the roar of the room filling in the lapse.

“Would you like to come to my room?” asked Kit. “You might relax more there.”

“Okay.”

___________________

The hallways were mostly clear, as everyone was at lunch. Only a few guards were posted, and a bad feeling weighed in his mind like a stone when he realized how few of them they had passed.

His intuition was rarely wrong.

They rounded a corner, and in the hall was a lone man. A stranger.

David stopped up short behind him. David’s breath caught in his throat, and Kit knew this was his father.

He was almost the same height as Kit, with a head of graying hair and a thin build. Kit could smell the alcohol coming off of him in waves, mixed with stale sweat.

He must have come in from a side entrance. Perhaps a guard had recognized him as David’s dad, and thought he was harmless enough.

David whimpered behind him, and the man turned. He was sober, guessed Kit, based on his eyes and posture. A rare occurrence from what David had told him.

“David!” he said, a smile on his face. “There you are. I was so worried when you weren’t at the house.”

“Dad? Are you… okay?” David stepped out from behind Kit, tremble gone.

“Of course, bud.” The man’s eyes wandered to the small sack in David’s hands. “Are you okay? Some of your things are missing.” 

Kit narrowed his eyes. He didn’t believe the man’s concern was based in worry for his son, but rather for himself.

“Uh- yeah-”

David’s father advanced on them, his stride controlled underneath the relaxed veneer.

“Are you… moving out, son?” his voice was tight and unnerving.

“W-well,” David stuttered. “I just thought- I mean, I’m an adult now, and-”

The man kept coming, and Kit stepped forward.

The stranger drew up short. “Excuse me,” he said. “Step aside.”

“No.”

The man stared at him. “I’m only trying to talk to my kid.”

“I don’t think you are.”

“What the hell do you know?” snapped the man, his temper flaring.

“Dad, please,” David pleaded.

The man turned on David. “Did this faerie try and convince you to leave? Huh?!”

David stepped back. He shook his head. “No-”

David’s father stepped forward, raised a hand-

Kit dove in front of David, shoving the boy behind him.

The blow landed across his face.

David gasped, and Kit felt himself leave his own body, as if watching from far away.

David’s father started shouting at him, but a high-pitched buzzing in his head drowned out the words.

He could feel the sting on his cheek, and he could barely make out David clutching at the back of his shirt.

Tears ran down Kit’s face, but no sound left his throat. He could hardly breathe.

“Answer me!” screamed the man in his face, and spit landed on his shirt. He couldn’t move.

“What the hell?” said a guard from the end of the hall, and sensation rushed back into Kit’s body. He stumbled back, sucking in air.

David’s father started making excuses, and Kit couldn’t be bothered to listen. The guard’s eyes flicked between the three of them. Her gaze landed on David’s black eye, Kit’s burning cheek, and David’s father’s furious expression.

She drew up tall. “You need to leave,” she informed him. “Or you’re under arrest for assault and trespassing.”

“Assault?” he sputtered. “I was disciplining my son! It’s not my fault this creature got in the way!”

“Leave,” the guard pressed. “I’ve warned you once; you won’t get another.”

The man turned on David. “Your mother would be disgusted with you,” he spat. “I hope you’re happy. Don’t bother coming home.”

He turned and stalked away, the guard escorting him out.

David broke down, his hands on his knees, hunched over and his breath quick and shallow.

Kit watched helplessly, his own breathing irregular.

“I- oh god-” David clutched his chest. “I’m dying.”

“No,” Kit said, his tongue thick and clumsy in his mouth. “You’re panicking.”

“Oh,” laughed David hysterically. “Is that all?”

Kit pulled at his arms, helping him stand. “Come one. You can sit on the couch in my room.”

David nodded, and shakily followed him deeper into the castle.

taglist: @paintedpigeon1 @cupcakes-and-pain @loserwithsyle @cepheusgalaxy @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight

@hellodecisionparalysis @bitchaknso @starfields08000 @honeycollectswhump

@why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @currentlyinthesprial

[tuxebo]

for my old friends, like og old, you might remember this post. however, my sweet anon that just sent that rdr2 ask about my thoughts on it, you just unlocked my tenth eye. arthur morgan with the poshest bastard known to fucking man. your fancy words, tight ass clothes, even your perfect posture is disgusting. (to which, of course, you would say the exact same about him)

when you fall into a ditch for arthur to stumble upon, the worst person that could possible find you, to say you had a rocky start is the understatement of the century. why he saves you? probably because he assumed you were wealthy and based in the area, he's be able to steal from your estate if you just trusted him and shared a little too much information.

come to find out, you're a little brat miles away from home and now you're his responsibility because 1. you know about the gang and their location and aren't allowed to just go and 2. no one else wants to deal with you.

to be fair, you are not entirely useless. yes, trust that arthur puts your hiney to work, as soon as your broken ankle is healed. you speak to the rich folk that typically wouldn't give him the time of day on his behalf, negotiate the shit out of whoever is unfortunate enough to do business with the both of you, you also help him befriend some of these rich folk so that him and javier can pay them a "visit" later.

granted, all of those "pros" comes with a price because you are nothing if not high maintenance. also, you talk a lot. it kind of comes with the territory, knowing all that you claim you do. arthur pays the price (well the gang does because he cuts it from what he donates) and it's definitely a good cause.

however, let's talk about the little things. the way western riders and english riders ride are undeniably different.

first off, hands. you're used to riding using both hands at all times, you were around people that did the same. you heard about people who didn't (western riders) but now you were around them all the damn time. imagine the first time you saw this man use his gun while on a moving horse, taking a perfect shot? man, oh man. he does pick up on your little fascination rather quickly and in the beginning uses it to show off, to one up you, but intentions change, at some point.

more on hands, when you try to ride with one hand, you almost fall off when your horse took got startled and picked up a little too much speed. worry not, however, our hero caught you before you could fall and readjusted you with his free hand. like nothing happened, he just kept riding unfazed like nothing happened at all.

secondly, sports. occasionally, when out at about, someone would notice you don't exactly look like your average joe from valentine. like arthur was challenged to a shooting competition, you were challenged to a fox hunting, which you gladly agreed. you did quite a bit of fox hunting with your friends and family back at home, now it was just you and arthur versus three other guys, which was of no concern. of course, you beat them by a day, earning the two of you a quite a bit of coin. but the money is actually in watching you, ever so concentrated, track a fox. arthur didn't realize you were useful for more than that mouth of yours, which you claim is his fault because he never asked.

finally, forms of control. the way you ride is very different. while it's something that kind of flies over your head, it's not so much the case for arthur. at first he noticed the way you ride and it kind of annoyed him, but it was appreciable when he watched you ride in an empty dressage ring you stumbled upon when you stumbled across some large estate. why you move so much on the saddle over such little distance, maybe he'd get answers from sitting back and watching? can't hurt to try.

more on forms of control, one thing you do notice is how "aggressive" arthur rides. not in an abusing the horse way, but it's nothing like your gentle riding. you had control with your reins, he did in a different way. this kind of ties in with his balance and ability to ride and do different things at the same time, but he was able to lasso people and pull them to his horse without a much thought, take control of horses while racing alongside it on his own like he was a sport. as neat as you kept yourself, sweaty arthur during sunset? yes, please.

okay, if you know, you know. all this while being enemies?? now, i could go on for hours. he is so fine. i want to talk more abt it so bad, someone please tell me you see the vision.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

a Pathologic tier list based on how good of an adult the characters are to Clara, a child

this is based on P1, but the tier list site i was using only had the P2 models!

i was meant to have longer, more in-depth explanations, but then i got lazy 😅 so i just have some basic reasoning!

also i haven’t replayed the Changeling route in a few months, so i’m going off of memory!

Actually A Kind, Considerate Adult To A Stressed and Traumatized Child

Lara- Lara is hands down the best adult in this entire game. She’s kind, understanding, and patient with Clara. She never insults her, and even when Clara is being a bit snooty, she still treats her gently. She also literally has a line where she points out that Clara is a child struggling with an immense burden. She calls attention to the fact that she’s just a kid, which NOBODY ELSE DOES.

“Poor thing, I’m so sorry for you. I wouldn’t want to carry your burden.”

It can kinda be read as pity, but pity is better than the cruelty and ignorance to her situation most of the others give her.

Also she has the one voice like where she’s like, “Poor child, she’s so tired” in reference to Clara.

Lara stays winning fr fr

The Tragedians and Executors- Idk if these guys can count, but they’re here anyway. They’re always so nice to Clara, calling her little pet names and explaining stuff to her in a kind way. They talk to her like how adults talk to young children, which she is. And it’s wild how these bitches beat THE ENTIRETY OF THE WHOLE CAST, minus Lara.

A Good Adult

Oyun- I actually cannot believe this guy is this high.

Surprisingly, he’s actually pretty nice to Clara. If not nice, then very respectful. He treats her like a queen.

Rubin- He’s chill with her 👍 (if i remember correctly)

Yulia- Similar to Rubin, she’s chill toward Clara, minus, I think, one little offhand comment that’s kind of rude. But compared to what some of the bitches below say to her, it may as well be a compliment.

Decent But Has Their Moments

Artemy- So, I feel like Artemy is very neutral toward Clara. There is that part in the Changeling route where he sends her a letter where he threatens to kill her, BUT that only happens if you rat out his location to Daniil, so it’s not a set event that always happens.

He speaks to her very curtly, and you can get the sense that he’s probably annoyed by her presence, but he’s not outwardly verbally abusing her unlike others.

If this were a ranking based on P2 interactions, however, he would be WAY LOWER because jfc, he is SO MEAN to Clara.

Daniil- So, he was actually lower at first, but then I saw some really good posts talking about how he cares for Clara in his own way (giving her money, keeping her in the Stillwater, worrying over her)—even if they are a little unconventional.

However, that doesn’t erase the fact that he is still pretty awful to her at times. I mean, he literally threatens to kill her twice, one of which happened when he first met her.

I love the “Daniil is a reluctant father figure to Clara” so much, but I also don’t think he would be any higher than this.

Also, like Artemy, if this were for interactions in P2, he would absolutely be lower.

Neutral

Olgimsky- I think he and Clara talk exactly two (2) times, and both interactions are short and don’t really do anything for the story (if i remember correctly). Also I don’t think they give af about each other at all.

Bad Grief- Neutral. I could have put him higher, actually. He seemed actually kind of nice.

Eva- Same with Bad Grief. Her interaction with Clara wasn’t hostile at all.

Victor- I’ll be real with y’all- I don’t remember them talking 😭

Not A Good Adult

Maria- She’s my second favorite character in the whole game (just behind Clara ofc), but even I can’t deny how cruel she is to Clara. She is SO MEAN.

Aspity- I actually had no idea where to put her. At first, she was in the “decent” section, but that didn’t seem right. Then she was in “Neutral,” but that didn’t seem right, either. Finally, I just decided to put her here. Because, looking back on their interactions, they were pretty hostile.

I don’t think Aspity liked Clara. A lot of the things she said to Clara were either vaguely threatening or directly threatening.

Anna Angel- She was so rude to Clara in the Haruspex route when Clara came running to her house, crying, on Day 6. Also I remember her making shots at Clara often.

Georgiy- Literally threatened to kill Clara the moment he met her. Enough said.

Mark- I remember this bitch ass being snappy with her. Which is good enough for me.

Vlad Jr.- This dude isn’t necessarily mean, but I do remember him being weirdly fanatical toward Clara. He spoke to her like she wasn’t a child but rather someone to be idolized.

Peter- He also wasn’t rude, but I just felt very uncomfortable every time he talked to her. He didn’t speak to her like a child but rather an adult. And yeah, a lot of people did that, but he was just so creepy to me. He acted like she was a goddess or something. It really rubbed me the wrong way.

Block- This may be a bit of an unpopular opinion, but I just can’t put this guy anywhere but here.

Yes, he was kind to her, but he also idolized her, which is just…Not Very Good. Also he fully tries to bring her to war?? If you say no when he first makes the offer, he literally ignores her and keeps going on about it which is a huge red flag.

Horrible Fucking Person

Andrey- I can’t stand this guy. Y’all don’t understand how deep my hatred for him goes. But this spot isn’t even a biased decision he is, SO CRUEL. The way he screams in Clara’s face when she went to his bar?? And yeah, he’s kinda right in some sense, she isn’t old enough to fully understand what she’s doing, but that is not her fault in any way. The blame should fall upon Katerina for making her run around indoctrinating people, not her. And he shouldn’t have yelled at a little girl, spewing insults at her, because at that point, his argument is meaningless when it directly attacks her.

He’s terrible. I hate him.

What The Fuck Is Wrong With You

Aglaya- Basically every word she spoke to Clara felt like a shotgun blast to the chest and had my jaw on the FLOOR. I was not expecting the sheer disgust and hatred she had toward this child.

As such, I have compiled a short list of some of the things she said to Clara:

1. Calls her a “dim, pathetic creature”

2. Calls her insane and deranged

3. Accuses her of having a split personality disorder and being schizophrenic

4. “Prohibits her from existing”

5. Says she has to leave the town or else she’ll have her executed

Among other stuff.

Obligatory “Awful Parents” Spot

The Saburovs- I could go on about how horrible these guys are. Not even just as people, but as parents, too.

The neglect, the exploitation, the abuse, the total disregard for Clara’s feelings when she comes back traumatized while carrying a severed head, the way she’s used to inaugurate people into a religion…

They are truly awful people, and they do not deserve Clara.

[angelsnkisses]

I’m obsessed with all the Rory content! I’m begging for literally anything about Jack or Euronymous. They’re both my little meow meows

A/N: agreed, they're both so yummy 😮‍💨 here's a euronymous post i've been thinking about writing all week! hope you enjoy, anon :).

thinking about giving euronymous head before he goes on stage <3

‼️ NSFW - MDNI ‼️

warnings: dom!euronymous, sub!gn!reader, oral (male receiving), degrading, face fucking, cum eating

disclaimer: this has nothing to do with the real øystein aarseth. this is strictly based on rory's portrayal of the character.

• he'd always be so nervous before a show, tapping his leg rapidly and smoking a cigarette with stitched brows.

"..fucking lot of people out there.. much more than we thought."

• you'd be worried about how anxious he was, asking if he needed anything.

• he'd perk up a bit, thinking about it before giving you a dark gaze.

"you know what? yeah, i do need something."

• he'd walk over to you and stroke your jaw with a ringed finger, a little smile on his face as he admires what's his.

"c'mon, on your knees. don't give me that look, do as you're told."

• he'd push you down needily, a hand frantically undoing his jeans before someone could walk in. he'd free himself from the fabric prison before immediately forcing his tip into your mouth. sighing quietly.

"hurry up, i'm on in 10 minutes."

• he'd be eyeing the door behind you ever so often, making sure nobody came through it as you started to suck him off.

• he would groan so much, always the vocal one. your warm mouth and swollen lips around him would be enough to drive him absolutely insane.

"mm, good job.. your mouth feels so good, fuck."

• he'd get impatient with your pace pretty quick, knowing his band mates could enter at any moment. he would grab the back of your head, shoving you down until your nose pressed to his base.

• he'd chuckle at you when you gagged, enjoying how your eyes watered and your throat convulsed around him.

"that's it, you can take it."

• he'd start facefucking you roughly, watching you gag and drool around his cock <3.

• sadly, he'd have to be quick, which means he'd be abusing your poor throat, ramming into it over and over, desperate for release.

"fuckfuckfuck, come on-"

• rip your uvula, seriously.

• you'd look like a fucking mess under him. makeup running (if you had any on), tears streaming down your cheeks, drool coating your chin.

• when he'd get close to finishing he'd slam your head down his entire length, moaning shakily and emptying his load down your throat.

"oh, shit~ swallow it, don't you dare spit it out."

"there you go, fuck yeah.."

• he'd pull himself out of your mouth when he was completely finished, putting himself back in his pants and tugging you up.

• he'd pull you in for a long, sweet kiss, not caring if his makeup was just a little smudged.

"thanks.. we'll finish this after the show, yeah?"

• he makes good on his word, trust me ;).

**

A/N: a simple one for you, thanks again anon! i loved writing this, i already have another idea for euronymous :). i wanna start experimenting with more kinks, i'd just need input on what to write about! hope you enjoyed <3.

[jackdaniel69nice]

As far as the adults in their life, is their any pros/teachers/etc that Tokoyami and/or Dark Shadow have a negative view of? Whether that be theyre afraid of them or dislike them or what?

Once again tokoyami is very cooperative and has a motto in life (from his grandfather) to “make friends, not enemies” so there arnt very many people he dislikes. But! I just made a post about eraserhead/aizawa and how their relationship can improve. Another answer is how tokoyami obviously wasn’t very fond of hawks when they first met. Toko saw some videos of hawks online before and decided he was very pompous and “fake” but when he was offered an internship he still jumped at the opportunity. Getting such a high up connection with the number three—then number two—hero would provide a great safety net and open up better opportunities, not to mention hawks obviously has skills and he can learn some things. Of course that all went down the drain when all hawks wanted from him was information, the reason he came back the second internship was mostly spite but he still wanted to form that connection. He was very caught off guard when hawks took him for that night flight and inspired him. He was very excited about meeting with hawks after that and the rest is history ;)

The REAL answer to this has to be Endeavor. There are multiple good reasons for this. Endeavor has a temper and large threatening presence, he seems violent. That isn’t really a problem until you throw in his intense flame power. Tokoyami has had trouble with police and low power hero’s in the past. Some part of him is still scared Endeavor would find some reason to go after him and arrest him, he’ll do anything to avoid that. On top of that there has been some hinting that endeavor follows an antiheteromorph rhetoric and is a misogisnist based on things dabi and shoto have said (that they probably learned from him). He’s just an old man with an old backwards point of view.

Then there is the biggest issue in that he is shoto’s abuser. Tokoyami is fiercely protective of his friends, we know this, and I do not doubt he would hold a grudge against endeavor for abusing shoto for years. Tokoyami does believe people can be redeemed, but he doesn’t want endeavor anywhere near himself or shoto. Even if Endeavor never lifted a finger towards Shoto again it doesn’t take away all the hurt of the past. Shoto shouldn’t be subjected to his presence nor does Tokoyami want to be in his presence either. If Endeavor didn’t care about hurting his own son he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt tokoyami. Dark Shadow is even worse about this because they struggle with split thinking and view him as 100% evil. They logically understand he is trying to change but their rage overwhelms them in this case and they would throw hands if they could.

Technically that is the end of my answer but it’s interesting that hawks is so close to endeavor and tokoyami avidly dislikes him. I also find it odd that hawks is still willing to be close to endeavor when he himself has abused by his father the takami theif. I know endeavor is the one who inspired him to be a hero and he’s the one who put takami in jail…but still. Maybe it’s because hawks only met endeavor after his redemption arc had begun, he’s only ever seen the better side of him. I feel like tokoyami would keep his dislike of endeavor to himself to keep from hurting hawks feelings. Which isn’t great because that’s still kinda suppressing your feelings and he needs to stop doing that just because he doesn’t want to upset other people. I bet dark shadow would blurt it out and they would have a real conversation about him.

[thespoonlord]

Here are my thoughts on the situation.

*very long post incoming*

Firstly and I cannot stress this enough, MOST IMPORTANTLY:

SUPPORT SHUBBLE!!!!!!!

It was so incredibly brave of her to speak out about what happened to her, and they deserve so much love and support. Please go and watch her videos, subscribe, and spread kindness to her. They are absolutely just wonderful.

Secondly: I do not support him. at all. I'm not going to say his name because he doesn't deserve attention, but you know who I'm talking about. I think that what he did is absolutely abhorrent and loathsome, and on top of all that he delivers an "apology" that is simply just shit. Everybody's responses to this situation are a hundred thousand times better than whatever that was. Hell, Dreams response was leagues better than a single word said in that sorry excuse of 4 paragraphs.

Thirdly: There's been a lot of talk about "separating the art from the artist" surrounding this, and I both agree and disagree with this sentiment. On the one hand, I completely understand still enjoying some of his music and videos without directly tying it to him or supporting him at all. But on the other hand. He is an abuser. I personally feel that as long as you are not directly supporting him, and making sure that you are not, I think that you should be allowed to listen to his music, or watch reuploads of his videos on other peoples channels. With how big of an impact this man made, I cannot blame you. Its very hard to just drop someone and move on so quickly. (for some people, that is.) We need to allow ourselves time to move on and adjust, and we need to be patient with others as well. If you have moved on already, please be considerate and understanding to others who are still trying to let go.

Now another tangent similar to the paragraph above:

To be blunt: I think that we should completely separate and detach the characters that this man played and "created" from his actual person. and I say created in quotes because I don't really think it was he who made them. I think it was the community. We were given characters that were kind of blank slates in a way, they had a basic kind of personality and some defining traits and goals. but that character only flourished and came alive when we, the community started putting our own thoughts and headcanons in them. These characters for me in my mind were mostly filled with other people's and my personal headcanons and stuff from other stories and people's personal interpretations in fanfiction and artwork, and I think it's very important to separate these characters that people like and enjoy from the actual person who is terrible and shouldn't be given a second thought. I really feel that the characteristics and personalities of these characters were built up so much more by the community, and waaaay less by the content creator himself. I think that these characters made should not be attached to him anymore. They shouldn't, because in a way they are ours.

We should separate them. We can separate them.

*Also! I've seen so many really cool ocs that have sprung forth based off of these characters, and I just gotta say: Way to go! I think that further disconnecting these characters from him by putting your own spin on them and even replacing his characters in your story with your ocs is a really cool thing, and I love seeing it!

Moving on from this man is going to be really hard, for some people more than others especially considering the insane impact he had on so many peoples lives, and I want you to know that you can take all the time you need to process your feelings and thoughts on this situation and make the best decision for you on how to continue. Your allowed to be upset. I'm upset. But, I'm really proud and happy that so many in this community aren't supporting an abuser. (heck even the dream and Tommy stans teamed up)

As for me, I will not let this ruin the dream smp and it's story for me, or any other story that he was in. I will continue to make fanart of the many other characters featured in the smp and other stories, as well as make fanart of other content creators. Although I have been deeply affected by this, I was honestly always really a fan of other people and their povs more anyways. (like Eret, Technoblade, Tommy and Quackity.)(and these are just a few others I watched!! you should really give everyone's povs a try :))

Lastly, and again I absolutely must make this SO SO CLEAR: FULL SUPPORT TO SHUBBLE!! She is so so brave and amazing for speaking out about this, and I highly encourage everyone to support them in any way you can!!!!! SHUBSCRIBE!! They are almost at 1 million!! Instead of focusing and wasting your time on him, please give all of your attention and care to her!!

Wishing you the strength to continue, process what's happening, and move on safely and smoothly, and wishing Shelby all the goodness and love in the world to recover and heal from this. ❤️

[winns-stuff]

Two things:

1 a. I don't think kidding someone's feet automatically equals foot fetish. If you have someone a kiss on the shoulder doors that mean you have a shoulder fetish?

1 b. Even if he does, that didn't automatically make him evil or a creep. Kinks and fetishes are not moral indicators and acting like they do is juvenile. It might not be for you, or even make you uncomfortable, and that's okay. Live and let live.

2. I don't think it's fair to call Persephone a homewrecker when:

a. Minthe and Hades were not exclusive. Minthe was sleeping with Thanatos - Hades' adoptive son - and Hades was sleeping with Hera anyway.

b. Minthe was emotionally, verbally, and physically abusive to Hades. I feel like everyone forgets that she literally hit him. He shouldn't have been in that relationship anyways.

Okay first off, I’m sorry if I made it seem like I was kinkshaming at all. I was honestly just joking about that comparison and one of the main reasons why I said that it reminded me of Dan Schneider and that I was repulsed was because of the “creepy” aspect of it being placed in there, it was around the end that the person said that the kink seemed like it was only given to creepy guys. I don’t care about kinks genuinely and trust me I do mind my business when it comes to those things, again my apologies if I did come off immature.

But you’re right, his kink doesn’t make him a creep but the fact that he literally is creepy, manipulative, and an overall messed up person makes him a little bit more warranted for those kinds of comments since that’s literally how he represents himself in the comic. Hades is a slave owning, hypocritical, child neglecting, abusive, and overall tyrant to everyone who’s not kissing his ass and it’s not me exaggerating it’s literally just how he is that’s him as a person overall.

And I do think it is fair to call Persephone a homewrecker based on the very fact that they were seeing each other and breaking a lot of boundaries after Hades and Minthe officially made it official. Mind you, it was Hades who wanted to close the open relationship so yeah now seeing other people and touching them beyond the appropriate interaction between an employee and boss especially is now inappropriate and not something that you can just wave the “we’re not in a closed relationship” card at. Also, by definition Persephone was one of the sole reasons that Minthe and Hades broke up since Minthe started noticing just how overly affectionate they became with each other while working so yes, she is a homewrecker. She broke a home and please don’t comment by saying “there was never a home in the first place” because there was, you can’t just give homewrecking and emotional cheating a pass because you don’t like the character they still had history.

Also, trust me when I say no one forgets that Minthe hits him. Every single time I post about Minthe I make sure to acknowledge the fact that I don’t condone her actions and actually a lot of critics do as well since there’s a lot of people like you (not saying this in a bad way by the way) that do believe that many people are Minthe stans every time you discuss her without stating that fact. But even though yes, it was a fairly toxic relationship on both sides and they should’ve broke up much sooner like I said before there was still a relationship there that they were both in. It’s still emotional cheating and homewrecking on Hades and Persephone’s part, also Persephone doesn’t even know how Minthe treated Hades she just never cared about her feelings to begin with and pursued her boyfriend basically.

Also last thing but do you know what slap everyone does tend to forget a lot? Hecate when she slapped the ever loving shit out of Hades, now I’m not saying since that happened just forget about Minthe’s behavior at all but I am saying that we should all react to that slap the same. We all agree that it’s never okay to put your hands on someone so why should we condone it when it’s not Minthe?