#youre ‘raping’ me and I feel safe and Im enjoying it but then you’re getting really rough and Im not sure I like it anymore and I tell y

[rayshippouuchiha]

hello, I’m uh, here to vent? warning, there is…a lot of swearing. a few months ago i was taking a nap after a solid 24 hours of being awake and my brothers were in the same room laughing and yelling and generally being loud as fuck, and after asking for the fourth time to please be quiet because can’t you see im trying to sleep here, i finally snapped and said “can you two shut the fuck up please? it’s good that you’re enjoying yourself but can you maybe do it elsewhere?” and my older brother said to my younger laughing, “it’s so funny when people tell me off for laughing, like sorry im not depressed” I KNOW YOURE DEPRESSED. SO AM I. DEPRESSION ISNT AN EXCUSE TO BE AN INSENSITIVE DICKHEAD. god every time I think about it im filled with such a frothing rage. those two…i love them but they’re fucking assholes. who do they think they are??? they ain’t SHIT. not to mention that my older brother (who is 20) and my younger (who is 11) have been spending more time together, and my older brother has some hella toxic traits that i don’t want anywhere NEAR my impressionable younger brother. despite my best efforts to get my older brother to tone down (I say tone down because because I’ve TRIED to get him to stop, and he fucking WONT. the best I can hope for is that he doesnt say that shit in public) the rape jokes and blatant misogyny and racism and…fuck he’s got a lot of issues.

at a certain point in life you became responsible for your own development, and i can’t get him to change if he doesn’t want to, which, fine, i can accept that, but my baby brother??? he don’t need that shit. he’s been picking up shitty behaviour from him since we’ve been cooped up together at home. he’s been swearing a fuckload (fine, i can understand that one, since I do it too, although not nearly like how I do when I’m venting online) and he’s rude to our mom (what the FUCK. WHY. HOW. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN. IM SHAKING THINKING ABOUT IT. THIS WOMAN HAS RAISED THREE CHILDREN ALONE FOR THE PAST THREE YEARS WITH NO SUPPORT FROM OUR SHIT DAD AND YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO BE RUDE???) and he now thinks that raging and screaming and banging the table and kicking shit around is acceptable when the wifi is slow is completely normal and safe behaviour because our brother does it too. they think it’s funny! there’s so much shit i don’t want him picking up but for the love of god, how the hell do i do that when nobody in this goddamn household listens to me??? my brother made a shitty sexist joke the other day and i snapped and got pissed off at him (for the nth time, fuck) and he, what, called me a snowflake?? “it’s just a joke, you’re such a snowflake.” “what’s a snowflake?” “someone boring” and he had the GALL to look at me with this judgemental look on his face and say “are you a snowflake?” in a drawling voice. sorry if you think I’m BORING because I don’t support your shitty misogynistic views. you’re on your own, you asshole. I’d rather be a fucking snowflake than take that shitty behaviour near our brother. if it was just us two, me and my older brother, i might not have cared anymore after trying to help him the first few times, but there’s a fucking child in this house. you want him to grow up like you? and these two, they raise their voices ALL THE FUCKING TIME. me?? the only time I yell is when I’m calling someone from the other room, or online when I’m demonstrating my fROTHING FUCKING RAGE, such as right NOW. wanna know why? because yelling and shouting scares the fuck outta me, and i don’t want anyone feeling like i do. the reason im so goddamn angry online is because i refuse to be like them and take it out on other people. there’s venting, and there is hurting other people because what, your fucking minecraft won’t load? I’ve literally tried so hard to the point of actual tears to get my brother to stop raging but he just looks at me and says shit like “you wouldn’t understand, you never get angry”. uh actUALLY I CAN MOTHERFUCKING UNDERSTAND. BECAUSE YOU. YOU TWO GRATE ON MY FUCKING NERVES. HOW DARE YOU SAY I DONT UNDERSTAND. THE REASON YOU NEVER SEE ME ANGRY IS BECAUSE IM NOT LIKE YOU TWO. god im so sick of their shit. they’re my brothers and they’re precious, but I want to beat them up sometimes. I’m so tired. pretentious little shits UGH who do they think they ARE.

ray, the amount of time I’ve spent thinking about how to beat some goddamn respect into them is uncountable. every possible conversation that goes through my head i cannot continue because I can hear their responses, and they just fuel my anger even more, and I’m not even going to attempt to hold myself back in my mind. i have daydreams about ripping those two a new one and making them drink their respect women juice. osdjedlsdnkendkdn this is so long and im sorry about that but these two make my blood pressure skyrocket and I’m positive one day I’ll die from sheer fucking rage

Oh baby it really sounds like you needed to let all of that out and I don't blame you. Sounds like you're dealing with a lot from a lot of different directions and the anger, fear, and frustration you're feeling right now is perfectly understandable.

Honestly yeah your older brother sounds like a dick and, in my opinion, I'd be willing to put money on the fact that a lot of the things he's doing? He's probably doing them specifically to get a rise out of you, up to and including bringing your little brother into the mess. Because he knows what buttons to push and what things to say to get you to give him a reaction.

Obviously, I'm speaking from an outside perspective so I don't know all the finer details, but I say start stonewalling him.

Look to your safety first (especially since he seems to think that physical outbursts are acceptable and that kind of thing has a habit of escalating in many cases) but otherwise show him and his bullshit a solid stone wall.

You've tried talking to him, you've tried the emotional appeal. It's not working and it's not because he doesn't know he's doing wrong but because he doesn't want to stop. So don't give him that validation by showing him your outrage or your anger anymore. People who act out to provoke a reaction feed on that kind of thing and it traps you in this never-ending loop.

If he starts acting up then leave the room if possible. If you can't leave the room then scroll on your phone, read a book, stare into the goddamn abyss, just do not feed him that attention he so obviously wants.

If talking to your mom hasn't worked/isn't an option/etc I'd say you could try pulling the little brother aside and trying to calmly explain to him why what's happening is wrong if you haven't done that already. Just make sure you get him alone so he doesn't think he has to perform for your older brother.

It might work, it might not, but at least you will have tried.

Either way darling I'm sending good vibes in your direction and I'm here if you need to vent again.

[skeletalsepulchre]

okay so im seeing people get anons about this and its coming up in friend groups so i think now's actually a pretty good time to tackle the idea of religious (specifically cultic) abuse in media and how we as an audience interact with it

TLDR: dehumanization and sexualization of cult victims furthers the misunderstanding that cults "don't exist now", and RA survivors would feel much safer in fandom spaces if people acknowledged and analyzed the harmful portrayals of cults in media.

cw: discussions of cults, abuse, and sexual assault

also, if you have questions, please shoot me an ask or dm (off anon preferably, though)

let me start this with a disclaimer that i dont think every media that features ra is inherently bad. i think thats a bit harsh and as an ra survivor ive come to terms with the fact that there are going to be depictions of it in ways that maybe dont give it the respect it deserves, and trying to "what about [x]" everything will only lead people to talking in circles with themselves. what i want to address here is how you, as a consumer, respond to and parse out what cultic abuse means in any particular portrayal of it.

*also please don't harass people about their RAS status, like, if you see someone enjoying something with a less than stellar portrayal of cults, don't send them asks or dms like "well are YOU a cult survivor?" reducing the consumption of media to a yes or no game based on identity-- especially an identity that comes as the result of explicit pain and spiritual violation is not only derivative but also degrading to survivors and the people you're grilling. all we want is for people to think carefully about what they spread and portray, and how they think about those situations.

so, i think the first thing to tackle is...what is a cult? This is something that's surprisingly hard to define, especially in fictional settings with fictional cults. For example, (and pardon the use of this example, I don't feel like hunting for others), My Hero Academia has an organization in it that I would say fits the criteria for being a cult, but by and large isn't considered one by fans because it's not explicitly called a cult. (Although numerous cult jokes have been made about it). It also has an organization that IS explicitly referred to as a cult.

So, when you're dealing with how to process what is and is not a cult-- and how to make your presence safe for RA survivors, you have to be able to sift through more than just "did the narrative tell me this is a cult?"

There's a few different models people use; one of the most popular being the BITE model-- but I should clarify that the BITE model is really tailored towards religious and strictly hierarchal cults, but can be applied to other kinds of cults.

(and yes, there are cults other than religious/spiritual ones. corporate cults and wellness cults have been on the rise, and it's good to keep that in mind both when engaging with media and also in the real world.)

However, I'm a religious cult survivor, so a lot of my experience is strictly irt this, so please take what I say with a grain of salt, and know that I don't speak for every cult survivor, every religious cult survivor, or every religious abuse survivor. I am One Guy on the internet.

When it comes to media, I have a few questions I run through in order to figure out if something is A Cult.

1) Fringe Ideas. This one is one of those that most people know-- and often incorrectly use to attribute cult status to other things. However, it is worth mentioning, that you don't become a cult by following mainstream ideologies. BUT. BUT. not every group with weird ideas is a cult! Some groups are just weird and are fine being weird. It's a rectangles and squares situation. All cults have fringe ideas and behaviors, not all fringe ideas and behaviors belong to cults.

2) Hierarchies. Cults always have people in power, at least in my experience. There have been ideas thrown around about "completely decentralized cults"-- but to be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about that concept, and I don't know enough about it personally to say whether or not it's legitimate. If you have any sources, hmu.

BUT. Most cults have a power structure. You're going to have leaders, usually with a handful at the verrrrry tippy top, whose word is law. This can be associated with things like religious ideas (channelling god) or being "a genius", like in corporate cults.

3) Control. I cannot stress this enough; cults are all about control. How you think, feel, behave-- they discourage critical thought, encourage snitching on each other, buddy-group behavior; the BITE model explicitly lists these models of control.

4) Us V Them. Cults will give all those that oppose them or simply don't believe them a bad name. They're uneducated, they're evil-- it varies cult to cult, but you'll see them turning the non believers into a homogenous, frightening group. They want to discourage looking outwards, and they want to viciously isolate members.

Other things of note are extremism, talks of enlightenment, harsh punishments, the cult eating large portions of the member's finances, etc.

However, this post is largely to address FICTIONAL cults. and the unfortunate fact of the matter is that fictional cults are rarely fleshed out in a way that can be held one to one to a model, and, more often, don't even afford the victims of a cult humanity.

and this is one of THE biggest issues you find in cult portrayals. the leader is usually a charismatic, or perhaps menacing, figure, one that usually our protagonists-- who are rarely cult victims, they are typically outsiders (not inherently bad, mind you)-- faces personally, with the hoardes of mindless zombies forming one giant hurdle.

Naturally, this can be...hurtful. There's nuance to who is and is not a victim in a cult (although my rule of thumb is to look at what abuses that person specifically exerts over others-- and you can be both a victim and perpetrator of abuse. to treat them exclusively is lacking all nuance), but the people are the bottom, even if they joined willingly, are people who were preyed upon. Not only that, but many media cults forget that people can be born into cults, and never really had a choice to begin with. To treat these people like they are mindless-- or that they deserve the suffering they are in because they are there-- completely erases all nuance, humanity, and understanding to the cult survivior struggle. Not only that, but it continues to sensationalize and deify cult leaders, which is doing their job for them, really.

The second biggest issue is the romanticization and sexualization of cults, religious abuse, and cultic abuse.

(yes...this is a thing.)

The use of cults as a way to make a character edgy or tragic is one thing, but there's something sinister about using it to project a certain sexual behavior onto that character-- whether it be as the subjugator or subjugated. Sexual abuse is rampent in cults, and ritualistic sexual abuse is used to justify it. To sexualize the idea of a cult(ist) raping and abusing someone is...beyond offensive to anyone who has been in a cult where their sexual safety and autonomy has been compromised. Or, in some cases, the cultist is so naive and sheltered they can be easily coerced and taken advantage of due to their brainwashing.

This is...bad? This is bad. To ignore the fact that these depictions are just as harmful as any other romanticization of abuse is to ignore the real suffering of cult victims.

Really, the larger problem is that people don't really think cults exist, not really. They're all things of the past, or things that exist solely in fiction-- when in reality, every day cults form and continue to grow. If you've ever met a mormon, you've met a cultist. The moment you begin to process and parce the fact that this isn't as bizarre and unusual and fictional as it seems, you take the steps to respecting people who have been in that situation and become better at detecting cults, cult recruitment, and are able to more clearly assess what you take in.

Once again, there's so many bad portrayal of cults that it would be...stupid to call for an immediate disowning of anything with it in it. I personally have come to terms with the idea that I will have gripes about these portrayals in most cases, but rarely do I see people other than fellow RA or cult survivors discussing these portrayals. I'm hoping people can become more aware and willing to discuss cults in a serious and analytical context and criticize how they're portrayed in the things they love.

And once again, cult survivors are NOT a monolith. If a cult survivor expresses they are uncomfortable with something I said here that I'm not, or vice versa, listen to the people who actively surround you and whom you care about.

[seita]

literally like! I am also a victim of incest and csa and I think? the thing that some people don't get (and I've noticed most of the people who are outspoken about it are people who AREN'T victims, which is just unfair to me. Why do you get to judge me for how I handle something you don't understand??) is that a big part of it, at least for a lot of us, is about taking control over your situation. No I did not enjoy what happened to me!!! but getting to imagine a situation where I actually had a say in it all makes me feel a lot better. and work through it in a safe way, rather than putting myself into dangerous situations? and being told by people who don't know how I feel at all that im "romanticising" my trauma or whatever really rubs me up the wrong way. thank you for giving us a platform to work through these things in a healthy, safe way. i hope the people being assholes about it aren't getting to you too much 💕

i agree!!!! a lot of people who attack us aren't actually victims themselves. they know rape and incest is bad but dc is deeper than that. people like psychological horror and serial killer movies and find them enjoyable......murder and torture is also bad. what about the violence in video games? ppl can play a murderer if they find the right game. people enjoy that. u murder ur friends in among us.

dark content is a vast wasteland of nonsense. torture, gore, murder, noncon, yandere, incest.....it's all coming from the same place of intrigue in the taboo.

being interested in this stuff doesn't make you a bad person. your real life actions dictate who are you.

hell, i have intrusive thoughts daily and basically end up fantasizing about some really fucked up shit like murdering my mother or sister or even my CATS (whom i love more than my family). but i obviously never hurt them. because i know the thoughts are just that.....they're thoughts. they remain in my head, not in my actions. same with my dark sexual fantasies.

also the idea of telling me not to romanticize my own trauma is weird like am i not allowed to fetishize myself or my trauma............i mean....it's mine to do with what i want right

also simply wanting something to not exist anymore because you don't like it......it's not how the world works. the world is not going to curate themselves to you. no one who isn't close to you is going to care about your triggers. no one is going to care about what you dislike. none of us know you. it's not our problem that things exist that you don't like. that's life. you're never going to have a life rid of things you dislike or find gross or find bad. it's always going to exist. and bitching and crying and throwing temper tantrums on the internet isn't going to change that.

[erwinsvow]

if you believe that rape and incest shouldn’t happen in real life and is terrible, why do you write it and romanticize it? /gen. it feels like dc creators write it to seem sexy and hot when in reality it rlly hurts and affects ppl terribly. i understand using it for awareness in fics but now it feels like ppl find drugging others and raping them hot?

(pls dont think im attacking you this is genuine question!!)

hi friend, well thank you for asking. i'm gonna explain i guess my view of it but this is of course not everyone's view!

every writer/creator/reader has a different look on it and this is just mine. you are absolutely right, i do believe rape, incest, stepcest, etc are very terrible things irl that affect a lot of people. they are extremely scary and traumatic - i don't write noncon or full blood incest for those reasons.

you probably know i write a lot of step-cest and i have a few things that are 'dubcon' as well which is not a real thing - irl that would be considered noncon. i write it for a lot of reasons - firstly because yes, it is wrong if it was in real life, but i am an adult and i want to write things that challenge and interest me - in fiction.

stepcest is not good irl but i just love writing it, it's a topic that is taboo but stands out to me and i like how i write it, and i remember that what i'm writing is not real and never will be! i would never, ever encourage someone to date/fuck their stepdad or stepbrother irl but it can happen in my fics- it happens with consent and willingness and it's really just a fantasy. there's so much porn out there that's like 'step bro im stuck' and i think a lot of my followers agree that isn't the content we want to take in - and this is my outlet for that. sometimes (maybe just me!! not everyone!!) it's fun to think about something that should never happen in a different light, like having a step brother and fooling around with them. friend i understand what you're saying but it's dark content for a reason. it's not for kids and minors, it's for adults who have different tastes and preferences!

if i wrote a fic about say,, eren being an incredibly toxic and manipulative boyfriend, i'm sure people would enjoy that. we all know toxic relationships are harmful and dangerous, we all know we shouldn't be in one, that we should recognize the signs irl and be safe. but on tumblr? on my anime smut blog? we can read abt eren being a toxic bf, we can talk about jean being your stepbro, etc etc because these aren't real people and this isn't real life! it's all fiction and fantasy and i just don't see anything wrong with exploring different fantasies and ideas, especially in fiction.

writing is personally my biggest outlet, i have been writing for years and years and sometimes i get bored writing the same stuff i see everywhere. that's why i personally really like dark content. and yes, you're right - no one should condone being drugged and raped irl. i certainly do not. some specific noncon content is not my taste either, sometimes i cannot read super dark stuff. but that's on me, friend. i know my tastes and preferences just like you know yours, and everyone knows theirs. my own view is if no one is condoning it irl, and everyone knows it's purely fiction - there isn't something wrong with that because no one involved is real and no one involved is actually doing anything bad. i know i shouldn't sum it down to "if you don't like it, don't read it" but it really is that clear. it's not for you, and that's okay! that's valid of you. but it might be for someone else, maybe it's what they want to read and think about it, maybe it's something they've been through and want to read about now to get through their own stuff, maybe they are just interested in it because they know it's not real. all of these are valid and there's no reason to shame people for their writing. if you think x dark content topic is likable or interesting, you really can't shame someone for liking y and z for the same reasons.

overall we're all different people with different tastes writing anime smut on tumblr during a pandemic. i think we all need to take a step back and remember dark content writers are people too, they aren't monsters, they're just writing what they want to. i am very sorry this is so long and if anyone feels as though something in this response should be changed/worded differently please let me know!

[mimirexx]

Im super duper late for the jeanpikuweek i feel so bad ;-; but i finally finished this work! I chose the promts AU, saving and alliance and tried to put it into a fic somehow! Since it got a little long i divided it into three chapters and will post one chapter each day 😌

Read it on AO3 or under the cut!

Breakout

An AU where Jean is a shifter and got caught by Zeke and his men. Beside the torture he was receiving, Pieck visits him and the two start to get closer. They want to escape together - but at what costs?

TW: torture, beating, rape (no explicit rape, not between Jean and Pieck!), blood, violence, angst

Chapter one - Chapter two - Chapter three

Deep down in a basement where no sunlight reached sat Jean, a man unfortunate enough to have been captured and imprisoned during a failed mission. He had long forgotten what day it was, spent too much time in the darkness to distinguish between day and night.

Heavy chains hung around his wrists, not allowing him to move more than a few feet away from the wall. There was a thin mattress on the ground where he slept and a shabby piece of cloth that couldn’t be called blanket in any possible way. The cell he was locked up in was small, the stone floor so cold.

They ripped off his clothes before they threw him inside, leaving him in nothing but his underwear, mainly to ensure he had no chance to hide any weapons whatsoever but Jean had a feeling it was also to humiliate him. He was on enemy territory, so of course they would use every opportunity to humiliate and torture him. Nevertheless, he never gave away any information. They could do whatever they wanted, Jean wouldn’t lose a word.

Whether it was beating him up, burning his skin or slicing off his limbs, the shifter remained silent. There was nothing that could make him betray his friends and comrades. Their safety was the top priority, he would be fine as long as they didn’t kill him- which he didn’t think was their intention. At least not until they knew what they wanted to know.

He’d be fine until then.

~

“Why the long face?” A male voice spoke up, standing in front of his cell. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Jean didn’t answer, instead just stared at the same spot on the wall he was staring at for hours. One would say there was something really interesting on it with how long and intensely Jean already stared at it. He was thinking deeply, thinking of a way to escape that cell.

Though, he had no idea where he was. Even if he made it out, he didn’t know where to go, which made him an easy target to get captured a second time and receive even worse treatment. The smartest move was to stay where he was and try to gain more information. Everything else would be suicide.

The male stepped into Jean’s cell, the sounds of his boots echoing as he approached the brunet. Only when he stood right in front of him did Jean look up and immediately received a kick in the stomach, making him groan.

Jean kept his volume as low as he could because he didn’t want to give anyone the satisfaction of hurting him. The man crouched down and turned Jean’s face towards him, his lips curled into a mischievous grin.

“My, my. You’re such a nuisance, you know?” He laughed. “Just tell us where your people are and you’re free. Are they really worth all this? I don’t think so, they aren’t even looking for you.”

The brunet looked up at the person that was Floch Forster, a man who betrayed the Survey Corps along with some others, and furrowed his brows in response. It could’ve been about a month already if Jean counted right and his chances of being rescued were shrinking with each passing day, but Jean wasn’t a person to lose hope. If his comrades didn’t come to help him out, he would find a way out by himself. Either worked fine.

“All of this could end right now,” Floch said while looking into Jean’s eyes. “You’re not who we are after. You don’t need to go through all this. If you tell me where the Commander is, I promise you will never have to see any of us again.”

“Fuck you.” Jean said very simply and spat into Floch’s face. “Different from you, I’m not a traitor.”

The redhead’s expression darkened at Jean’s action and his hand found its way around the other’s neck. “Hah, I just like being on the winning team. And I’ve been nice up until now but spitting at me? That’s intolerable.”

Before Jean had the chance to say much more, he was forcefully pressed down against the stone floor. Floch knelt down behind him and used his free hand to pull Jean’s underwear down.

“That needs to be punished, don’t you think?” He kept Jean pressed down against the ground and rubbed the tip of his member against his entrance.

Jean shivered in discomfort and cringed. That was about the most disgusting thing Floch could do, but not even that was enough to make Jean talk. He was convinced to keep quiet, especially in front of Floch.

“Just do what you have to do and leave me alone.” He muttered and closed his eyes. He wanted this to be over quick because any minute he spent without Floch around him was a minute well spent.

Floch didn’t need to be told twice.

Jean was left alone afterwards again and decided to lay on the mattress to spend the rest of the time there until he would fall asleep. It didn’t take long for him to do so and give his body and mind some rest.

~

When he woke up a few hours later, he was surprised to see that his blanket was draped over him. He blinked a couple of times before shrugging it off and looking around.

The second surprise was a person standing in his cell. After squinting a little, he saw that it was a very short person. The black hair gave it away and Jean slowly sat up. He winced a little, feeling sore, but managed to sit anyway.

“You look awful,” the ravenette hung up the torch on the wall and sat down in front of Jean.

“I’m sorry for not getting ready and greeting you properly,” Jean rolled his eyes.

Pieck giggled. “I forgive you, but only this once. Here, I brought you some stew. It’s still warm.” She carefully placed a tray in front of Jean as she said that.

He stared at the bowl of steaming stew and looked away. “I don’t want it,” he lied. The only things he got to eat were bread and sometimes an apple if he was lucky enough. Not that it affected him much, his titan powers allowed his endurance to grow stronger. He could stay weeks without food and would be fine if he wanted to. Not to mention that Pieck was the enemy.

A gorgeous, kind and caring enemy who brought him a little food whenever she came.

She was the only one who hadn’t made a wrong move on him yet. That didn’t earn her his full trust, however, he enjoyed her company. It was a nice change.

“It’s not poisoned or anything, look.” She scooped a spoonful of the stew and ate it, showing her empty mouth afterwards to prove her point. “It’s safe to eat and you need to eat something proper before you pass out or anything.”

“I’ll be fine,” he denied anyway and leaned his back against the wall. “Shifter and all.”

“I don’t care.” She lifted the bowl and filled the spoon with stew before holding it out for him. “Just eat it.”

“Will you tell me where we are if I eat it?”

“You know I can’t,” Pieck moved the spoon a little closer, “now open your mouth.”

Jean narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t deny that the stew smelled really good, and Pieck ate from it, it had to be safe. So he eventually opened his mouth and ate the spoonful, chewing it slowly while savoring the taste. It had vegetables and potatoes and even some meat. It’s been a while since he last had meat.

“...I can eat by myself.” He insisted and took the bowl and spoon from Pieck. It was a little embarrassing to be fed like a child.

Pieck let him and rested her hands on her lap. Her expression turned a little more serious, her brows furrowing. “What did Floch do?”

“The usual.” Jean replied nonchalantly.

“Can’t be, I don’t see any injuries…”

He paused to look up at her for a moment. “Healed. Not important.”

Pieck was quiet and lowered her gaze slightly. It seemed she put one and one together and didn’t need any further explanation.

As the cell fell into silence, Jean ate more of the stew, eating rather quickly so he would finish soon and avoid getting any of them in danger. But one question was on his mind.

“Why are you doing this?”

Pieck tilted her head. “Doing what?”

“Bringing me extra food and all… Is that your way of coaxing me to get information?” He raised a brow.

“Ouch, that’s not nice to hear. Although I understand why you think this way.” She shrugged and gave him a little smile, “that’s not my intention nor my job. I know we’re at war and that information is very precious but I do not like the way you’re being treated... You’re a human being just like the rest of us and I wouldn’t want one of my comrades to be treated like that if they were in a similar situation… So I’m trying to make it a little easier for you.”

Jean stared for a moment before he gave a nod and continued to eat. He wasn’t sure if Pieck’s words were genuine. She did sound like she meant what she said so, for the time being, he left it at that.

“Don’t you get in trouble for being here anyway? What if they find out you’re bringing me food?” Jean questioned next. Up until now, that was Pieck’s fourth or maybe fifth visit. She always brought him something small to eat. He did not want to draw any unnecessary attention.

“They won’t, it’s my turn to watch over the prisoners so I need to be here anyway.” She crossed her legs and leaned back against her palms. “And don’t worry about the food. I know what I’m doing.”

Jean was a little hesitant but nodded anyway. Nobody noticed that he was getting extra food or a chance to have a decent conversation with another person and he would rather keep it that way. “I see… I hope for you that this isn’t any kind of trick.”

“No way,” Pieck shook her head, “you’re too smart to play any tricks on. And I’m starting to like your company, so this is a win-win for both of us.”

“Mhm..”

The brunet was quick to finish the bowl and set it back down on the tray. “Thank you for the meal.”

Pieck smiled and leaned forward again. “You’re more than welcome. You know, talking with you is way more fun than talking with the others.”

“What, because I’m half naked?” He joked, making Pieck giggle.

“Of course not! Although I have to admit, that’s definitely a sight to behold,” she wiggled her eyebrows playfully.

Jean rolled his eyes and leaned back against the wall again. He couldn’t help the little smile from forming on his lips.

“What I meant,” she said, “talking with you, it feels so different. Makes me feel careless. It’s like talking to a good friend.”

“A friend, huh…” Jean repeated before shrugging. He missed his friends, they were all precious to him. What he would give to see one of them now... It’s been so long.

“Is there anything else I can get you for today?” Pieck spoke while taking the tray and standing up.

“How about the keys for these?” He lifted one hand, making the chains rattle. “And a map?”

Pieck smiled with sympathy and grabbed the torch. “Dummy. You have the keys and map to my heart, that’s the only ones I can give you. You know that.” She hummed and walked out of the cell, making sure to lock it behind herself before waving. “See ya.” And she disappeared in the dark.

Jean watched her leave and exhaled deeply. He already knew Pieck wouldn’t give him any of these but it was still worth a try. Even if only to humor himself.

It was after Pieck’s visits that Jean felt a little better. It was like she was restoring his energy so he could make it through another day or week. Talking with her was so calm and without any pressure, it was so easy.

He might not fully trust her but he still looked forward to the next time he would be able to have a chat with Pieck.

~

A few days or so later, Jean didn’t know how long it was, Zeke personally came down to his cell. He was in charge of these people and the whole mission, Jean learned. He was the one who suggested kidnapping one of the shifters to turn the tables. This far, it didn’t appear to benefit him much since Jean didn’t give away any information and the Survey Corps had yet to make a move towards them.

The brunet glanced up when the door of his cell was unlocked and the tall blond walked inside. Behind him stood a few other soldiers with rifles pointed at him. He stared at them before shifting his gaze up at Zeke.

“Jean Kirstein, am I right? I gotta say I’m quite impressed.” The blond stopped right in front of Jean and rubbed over his beard.

Jean just stared, the indifference obvious on his expression.

“You’ve been here for more than two weeks and haven’t lost a word. That’s quite exceptional.”

Just two weeks? It felt so much longer. But then again, Jean lost every sense of time he had. He couldn’t even tell if it was day or night at the moment.

Zeke hummed and tilted his head. “Aren’t you a smart man? You should know that your friends will not find you here, never. And you should also know that we will not stop searching for them. We’re at advantage. If you tell us where they are, we will let you leave. I will even prepare you a lunch bag for the way, how does that sound?”

“You don’t think I believe you would really let me go, do you?” Jean raised a brow before a sly grin came to his lips. “Kick and punch me all you want, tell your men to rape me as many times as your sick brain feels like. Do whatever pleases you. You’re not getting anything out of me.”

It was Zeke’s turn to stare. His eye twitched a little. He cleared his throat and nodded, “I see. Then we just need to continue trying out new things until we find something that works. Or until I’m sick of it and just feed you to someone.”

He waved two fingers, making one of the soldiers at the door enter the cell with something in his hands. Once he was close enough, Jean could see that it was some kind of bottle with a colorless liquid inside. At first glance, it looked like a bottle of water.

But Zeke wasn’t that innocent.

“Have you ever touched sulfuric acid?” He took the bottle and opened it, crouching down in front of Jean.

Well, that made him a little tense.

“Curious to know what this does to the skin?” Zeke’s glasses reflected the light of the nearby torch. The grin on his face didn’t make the situation any better.

Jean clenched his teeth and glared. “Tsk…”

“Where is your base?” Zeke questioned.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you climb some trees and search for it, Monkey?” Jean spat, unintimidated.

And that was when Zeke splashed a generous amount of the acid over Jean. It hit his face, stomach, arms and legs, causing Jean to cry out loudly. Every single drop of the acid burned in such a cruel way, turning his skin into a bright red mess with many blisters. It burned mercilessly through his flesh and Jean felt every drop of it having its effect on him.

He groaned and panted heavily, biting his lower lip in an attempt to stifle his noises. His body naturally began regenerating and steam rose to the ceiling. Jean looked at Zeke, shot him a look of disgust.

“Did that help your memory?” Zeke questioned with a dark expression. “Will you tell me now?”

Jean took a few deep breaths. Then he smirked. “H-hah? That only tick-tickled a bit... You-you gotta try better.”

The blond snarled and grabbed Jean’s face with one hand, shoving the bottle into his mouth with the other. “Then I’m sure you won’t mind this!” He tilted Jean’s head up so the liquid would run down his throat.

Jean tried moving his face away somehow while he tried to scream and felt how the acid burned his insides. From his air pipe down to his lung and guts. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling at all. In fact, that was the worst kind of pain he had ever experienced. It was a hundred times worse than just getting the acid on his skin.

It felt like he was melting from the inside, like he was decomposing while the acid devoured his organs and bones. He wanted to cough and throw up and breathe at the same time, wanted to get the acid out again. But chained up and held in place, he had no chance to defend himself. And for a split second, he was considering Zeke’s offer. The pain messed with his mind.

When Zeke finally pulled the bottle away because it was empty, Jean fell back and began wheezing. Breathing was almost impossible now and Jean was on the brink of passing out. Even though his body was regenerating itself, it would surely take a while and the pain was unbearable.

Zeke said something Jean didn’t hear. A few moments later, he did pass out and laid sprawled out across the floor. His mouth hung open, steam passing his lips with his body’s desperate attempt to heal itself.

This was rough. This Zeke was insane, a maniac, and he was sure he would get to experience even more of these psychotic torture methods in the next days.

But as crazy as Zeke might be, Jean was stubborn and strong. He just needed to hold on. And maybe he needed to find a way to escape earlier before all of this could cost him his life and pain wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

~

Jean groaned in discomfort and reached up a trembling hand to press it against his stomach. It already was much better from when the acid burned him but the soreness and irritation was still there. His body already healed most of the damage, Jean could tell, but it wasn’t fully done just yet.

His eyes blinked open tiredly to get a view of his surroundings. Still in the cell, still chained up. The only difference from the last time he was awake was that he was now laying on the mattress with the blanket over his body. There was something strange under his head too.

“Jean? Can you hear me?” He heard a tender voice by his side and turned his head slightly to look up at the person.

Upon seeing the worried expression on her face, Jean’s lips tugged into a tiny smile. “Your voice is… is soft like an angel’s... Not sure i-if I’m already dead…” He murmured and closed his eyes again.

“Oh, God… I’m so glad you finally woke up…” Pieck whispered, her hand coming up to run through Jean’s long hair.

“Don’t tell me... you were worried about the enemy. That’s.. That’s not how it works, Pieck.” He let out a small chuckle which ended in heavy coughing.

“Jean!” She exclaimed and turned him onto his side quickly, patting his back to help him ride out the cough. “Stop talking, you’re not in the condition to talk now. You need to rest so your body can focus on healing.”

Jean laid back once he got a grip of himself and let out a weak sigh. He glanced up at Pieck again and looked into her eyes. He wasn’t sure if he saw tears in them because he couldn’t focus too hard but it was easy to see that she was very sad.

“‘M fine,” he assured her and lifted his hand which Pieck took into her own. Her much smaller hands embraced his big one, squeezed him.

Pieck looked into his eyes and this time he saw rage in them, something he had never seen before. She always wore a smile on her face, so Jean never imagined how it’d look like if Pieck got angry. It was scary, in a way, to see her enraged, out of all people.

“You were unconscious for two days… Zeke went too far this time. He’s gotten so gruesome ever since all of this started, he’s not the person I once trusted anymore. I can’t trust someone who would go this far only for dumb information.” She stated, her voice loud enough for Jean to hear but still kept quiet.

“Jean.” She gave his hand another squeeze, “I’ll help you out of here. I thought Zeke was a good person- he’s clearly not. And I’m not gonna sit and watch how his actions will get worse from here on.”

Jean was silent for a moment, letting Pieck’s words process in his head. Surely, hearing that she would help him wasn’t what he expected, and he couldn’t tell if this was a trap or not. After what Zeke did, he had to be much more careful now.

“You just couldn’t resist my charm, could you?�� He joked.

“Maybe that’s true too.” She reached one hand down and smoothed out Jean’s hair. “But I’m serious. You don’t deserve such treatment only because you're the ‘enemy’. I’ve made my decision.”

The brunet closed his eyes when he felt Pieck’s hand on his head. It’s been a while since he last received a tender touch and with Pieck it felt so right. He knew that it could be a trap but it was the most gorgeous and kindest trap ever.

For a moment, he wanted to believe Pieck’s words. Just for one moment.

When it was only him and her, Jean felt like everything was right. She always sounded so sincere and genuine and honest… always treated him as equal and even almost like a friend. Maybe that was how Pieck was and maybe she was honest about wanting to help him. This was a tough decision.

“Can you tell me where we are exactly?” He opened his eyes to look up at the ravenette, awaiting an answer from her.

Pieck gave a small nod. “We’re in an open area, about ten miles away from the nearest forest. They’ve spent weeks building this place to hold someone - preferably a shifter - captive. Right now, we’re underground. So if you planned to transform to leave, you’d have to get to the surface first or else you’ll be stuck in the ground. It’s too small.”

Her fingers entangled in his locks, giving him a few more strokes before she held Jean’s hand on her lap using both hands. “We’re pretty far away from any kind of civilization, so just running away won’t help, they’ll capture you again.” She explained, rubbing a thumb over Jean’s knuckles. “I would suggest going southwest, that’s where you can find the most people and hide until you know where to go.”

“I see.” He muttered and stared up at the ceiling in thought. If that was the case, he needed a plan to get out of the building and leave without anyone noticing to buy time. And he needed to be fully healed to be able to run that distance.

“I can sneak out the keys of your cuffs but I haven’t seen any kind of map here apart from the big one in Zeke’s room. I can’t give it to you but I will try to make a sketch of it for you from my memory.”

“Why?” Jean questioned, moving his gaze to her eyes. “Why are you doing all this for me? It can’t be only because Zeke poured acid over me. What’s the real reason behind all this?”

“...I don’t want Zeke to win. Not anymore. He’s my friend but his motives aren’t something I can agree on. If I can stop him or at least manipulate his plan somehow, I will.”

“What are his motives?” Jean was the one to squeeze her hand this time.

“...He wants to turn all subjects of Ymir infertile. He thinks that it’s better, that those who can turn into titans should no longer exist. He wants to rot them out and that’s wrong… but he won’t listen to anyone.”

“I see.” Jean said again and furrowed his brows a little. He didn’t only need to escape, they had to do something about Zeke and stop him. If his plan succeeded, it would be the worst outcome.

The brunet began pushing himself up into a sitting position, wincing a little when a particular move hurt too much. He exhaled carefully once he sat and glanced around the cell quietly.

While he looked around, he noticed that Pieck used her coat as a makeshift pillow for his head and couldn’t help but smile. Maybe she spoke the truth about wanting to help him out.

“Alright,” he looked up at Pieck, “will you be able to get me a sketch or something similar of the surroundings and this place by tomorrow? I’ll think of something to do against Zeke and his men.”

Pieck nodded. “I’ll do my best. And you don’t move around too much, your body needs to rest and heal.”

The brunet stared, a little deadpanned. He gave a short glance around the small cell, down to his cuffs and back up at Pieck. “Not like I have a choice?” He raised a brow in amusement.

“I meant it as in ‘don’t strain your body’.” She corrected.

Jean nodded quickly and held back a grin. “Oh, sure! I’ll just tell them not to beat me up too bad next time. Mhm, understood.”

“Jean!” Pieck pouted and gently slapped his arm. “You know what I meant, you big dummy.”

He let out a short chuckle. “I know, I’m just teasing you. By the way…” His voice became a bit more serious again, “what about you? I guess you will stay here?”

The ravenette gave a small shrug and looked around, scratching her head. “Not like I have a choice,” she repeated his words.

“Listen, if you really help me out of here and you really aren’t on Zeke’s side anymore…” he trailed off. “My people will understand. We can figure out something for you to stay with us, we could need someone intelligent and strong like you.”

“You expect your friends to welcome me with open arms after what I’ve done?” She tilted her head, brows furrowing.

“You were following orders.” Jean emphasized. “If what you’re saying about turning your back on Zeke is true, then I can talk with my people about this and we will figure out something. Whatever happens, I can assure you that you will not get this kind of treatment, even as one of Zeke’s soldiers.”

“Ah…” The ravenette looked down and scratched the back of her neck.

Jean reached out to touch her shoulder gently, making Pieck face him again. “I’m not telling you to make a decision right now. Zeke aside, I know you probably have close friends here. Just.. think about it and let me know once you made up your mind.” He offered.

Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy to just take her back with him, Jean knew that, but this place - and especially Zeke - were awful and someone this kindhearted like Pieck had nothing to do here. They could become really good friends if the circumstances were different, so Jean wanted her to go with him.

Not to mention that someone like Pieck would benefit them greatly. She was strong, she was smart. If Zeke lost her so suddenly, it’d be a big shock and a big disadvantage, that much was for sure.

Then again, only if what Pieck said was true.

Though, Pieck didn’t seem like the person who needed to lie to get what she wanted. Jean had a good feeling about it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, try to get enough rest.” She reached up to take the hand that was on her shoulder and pulled it down. Giving his hand a few gentle pats, she soon stood up and grabbed her coat as well.

Jean watched her stand up and gave a firm nod. “Be careful.”

After she left, Jean carefully laid down again and closed his eyes, both to let his body do the work of regenerating and to think deeply. He needed to concentrate and think of a plan.

[letfatewritethewords]

I process things with art. I process with written words in the hopes that one day it can be spoken without my voice shaking. This week has been one for the books.. and I decided to share. This is long, but I want to remember what I’m learning.. how I’m processing.. if you decide to read, thank you. If not, this will still be here as a reminder of my progress every year.

I always tell people that there was no reason for my name, but it’s a lie. I’m named after Samantha on BeWitched. My grandfather loved that show and suggested it when my mother couldn’t decide. I was born in early September and that makes me a Virgo. Astrology is one of my favorite things. There’s something extraordinary about the idea that we’re connected to the universe by the positioning of the stars. Sometimes it’s so vague.. but other times, it’s right on the nose and my horoscopes will make me cry. Speaking of that, I’m an empath and a 2. When I’m unhealthy, I’m a 4 and If you know what any of that means, I’d love to talk to you more about it. Winter is my favorite season. Fall is a close second. I love the snow and how muted everything is. I like the quiet, the beauty. Sometimes, the light from the sun will shimmer off a fresh coat of snow on the ground. It is absolutely blinding, but I’d still stare, and when the snow fell at night, I’d watch it under the street light across from my house and it felt like time stood still. When I was little, I would lay in the yard full of snow, alone, in my puffy suite, until my fingers and toes would go numb from the cold, listening to the silence, but the best part of those days was going back into my grandparents house and warming up with hot coco made on the stove, wrapping myself in a soft blanket and watching old movies with my grandfather. To me, the Winter is magical. My love languages are Quality Time and Acts of Service. I’m an introvert but I love people. I like to observe, I like to really understand how the mind works and Im eager to help. I thrive in controlled chaos. I like puzzles, I love music, I like crafts, I like to fix things because grandpa always taught me that nothing is to broken to fix. Nothing. No one.

This is the light. This is the part of me that I give willingly to anyone I meet. I wear it on my sleeve. It’s only the light. Until the last 2 years.. this was all I could give of myself because I’ve always been scared of the dark.

The darkest part of me lasted 8 years, my rock bottom lasted 4.5, but as a whole it’s taken up almost 12 years of my life. Sometimes I worry that all I'm ever going to be is this thing that happened to me. That this will define me for the rest of my life and I need to remind myself that I’m a person that can live separate from an event.

I went to the police station this week, I filled out more forms. I’ve filled out so many forms over the last 2 years. For an emergency restraining order this time. For Florida this time. I knew it would eventually follow me here but typhus felt too soon. The clerk called me brave. I smile and thank them every time but I never know how to respond to that. She has no idea how weak it feels and I mean.. how could she. This is the right choice, the obvious choice, the smart choice. In a different situation, it’s one of the many steps I’d be urging someone else to take. In all the chaos, all the hurt, in all the anger and sadness.. it always circles back to “I loved him”. I did. I wanted to fix him. I wanted to see him grow and heal and if I loved him hard enough for the both of us, it would’ve evened out eventually… right?

I failed.

He was always who he was, but I was young and naive and ready to fix the whole world. When I was 18 and we were free, I would’ve told you he saved me. Now that I’m in my 30’s… and he’s in prison and I’m in limbo.. I don’t know what I’d tell you. He didn’t save me, but he didn’t destroy me either. I had every opportunity to tap out and give up.. but I grew into a person I might not have been if I never met him.

Am I angry? All of the time.

Am I scared? Yes.

I see things more clearly now though. People talk about how you never know someone’s story, and that’s because we are experts at playing pretend like we have it all figured out until we’re alone and have to face truest selves. The facade is the hardest thing to give up. Some people saw through mine and there are others, who have built their own, that never will. I share posts about what I’ve learned, how I see people, how I’ve try to treat people with grace and teach children with love and patience in hopes that a little of that sinks into whoever it reaches, but I very rarely show the journey. Partly because I know the details are gruesome and that’s not for everyone, but mostly because I’m scared.

How will you see me?

What will you think?

I’m learning that I’m not this big awful thing that happened to me. I was never anyone’s property and I’m not chained to it anymore. I was very much lied to and manipulated and hurt long enough that it flipped onto me and I carried it without missing a step. I wanted to love him so much that I would heal him. Instead, he “loved” me so much it almost killed me, and he did call it love. Enough times that he re-defined it and I didn’t use that word for a very long time in any meaningful situation. He, for better or for worse, drastically changed the trajectory of my life.

But it’s ok.

I’m wounded but I’m healing. I’m lonely, but I’m learning how to slowly welcome more people in and step out of my comfort zone. If I’m being honest, I’m relearning a lot of things, including how to exist in a world where I have room to make mistakes and fail. I can say or do the wrong thing and be gently corrected for it by my people and move on … sans violence. There are no words for amount of relief I feel because of that truth.

Is it over? No.

He was sentenced to 7 years last year and every year around mid July early August there is an opportunity to apply for an appeal based on his behavior, which will always be immaculate because he is not as tough as he thinks he is. This means that if he applies and it goes to trial, I’m also notified and have to reappear, show any new evidence, and reexplain why he needs to stay there for the safety of others and myself. Telling my story once a year on a whim to a room full of strangers, always men, so they can decide my fate, as well as the fate of this “upstanding young man with a good head on his shoulders” (actual words used during my initial rape/domestic abuse trial against him), was never what I imagined finally turning him in would look like. I really never thought that after everything, his sentence wouldn’t even be as long as our relationship. The original sentence was 5 years. After he got out on a Governor Cuomo Covid related prison loophole and broke his parole almost immediately, he was sentenced to another 2 on top of that. He has 6 left. We talk about how flawed our system is, but really seeing it is a different kind of punch. Women aren’t believed. There’s a reason so many of these crimes go unreported, and why so many women die at the hands of angry men. The hoops you have to jump through are miles high and on fire, and when you and the advocate show up armed only with your truth, your tears and a little evidence from one night at a bar when he got to drunk and forgot he was in public, it’s very easy for a judge to rule on the softer side. Because, as you all know, we’d never want to ruin a wealthy mans life unless there’s cold, hard, reason to.

Seeing his face when they read out his sentence, after years of terror, was satisfying to say the least and if I hadn’t been so numb to get through the hearing, I would’ve enjoyed it more. I will never forget going to a trusted friends house after that hearing and being completely overwhelmed with all of the emotions. Relief, guilt, sadness, anger, happiness, fear.. so many I couldn’t express.. all at once because the novocain wears off and numb isn’t forever and I fell asleep with their dog after a lot of crying. I’d be lying though if I said that 18 year old in me didn’t feel a loss. I grew up with incredible grandparents that did amazing things in teaching me how to love people and be a good human, but no one can protect us from everything. I also grew up with a mother who fights demons of her own and never had the capacity to love two kids. In a situation like that, someone becomes the punching bag. I became the punching bag and desperately looked for ways out, an opportunity to run.. and I ran right into him, who accepted me with open arms for the first time in my young, very inexperienced life.. and I followed him blindly and he was my whole world. Until I was 27, I didn’t have a guide. By the grace of God I landed into a community in Florida that slowly helped me realize my worth.

So.. what now.

How do we fix what our parents and past broke?

How do you reparent yourself?

The mental health journey is proving to be my biggest struggle yet. There’s no more outside factors, it’s just me and the lies that have fed me for years and altered how I think and feel and understand the world. I can feel myself frustrating people I’ve let close to me. I feel myself getting nervous and pushing people away. Sometimes I can catch it and regroup, other times that nasty little voice is too loud and I’m exhausted. My goodness though, how cool is it to learn so much about yourself? I know I have the capacity to love that broken part of me eventually, but it’s still hard to face. Getting to learn and understand the reason behind your actions is terrifyingly amazing. I am proud of this journey. Even when I don’t always come up on top. It’s hard to see the progress while you’re in it, but laying it all out like this.. I can safely say I’m never going to be that 18 year old girl ever again. Some days this journey looks different, some days the darkness wins, because healing isn’t linear. Sometimes it’s one step forward, 2 steps back… but nothing is too broken to fix.. and I will never call that darkness home again.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Bad Dream  -  Five

Pairing: Dark!Steve X Reader

Summary: A year after wiping your memory and keeping you for himself, Steve Rogers is happy. Happier than he’s ever been. With you and your daughter, life couldn’t be any better. The only problem? You’re starting to remember things.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, The plot Thickensssss

Word Count: 2K

A/n: WAYYY OVERDUE IM SORRY I SUCK. I’m lacking motivation for writing lately and it’s irritating me. Love y’all so much

!!!THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!!!

MADNESS MASTERLIST EDITED POORLY! BAD DREAM MASTERLIST

~*~

“Good Morning, sweetheart.” Steve kisses your cheek. You smile, confusion filling you at your body’s natural response to him.

Your stomach twists and flips and you push yourself into a seated position in bed.

“What’s wrong?” You shake your head at his faux concern, holding onto your stomach tightly.

“I... I need some air,” you rasp, stumbling out of bed and towards the doors leading to the balcony. You throw them open and take deep breaths, leaning your forehead down against the railing.

Steve’s footsteps follow you and you feel tears well up in your eyes, fear making your body tremble.

“What’s wrong?” He repeats, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back. You flinch out from under it and let out a shaky breath. “I-I don’t know,” you whisper, trying to sound convincing. “I think I’m coming down with something. I don’t know...” He smoothes your hair back then sighs.

“Did you eat something bad?” You shake your head. His fingers still on your back as a thought enters his mind. “When was the last time you got your period?” Horror fills you and you take a few deep breaths. “It’s been about two months. I thought... nothing of it. I’ve heard of women having irregular periods after birth but...” Your mind goes back to all the times he’s fucked you in the past seven months since you had Sarah and you nearly gag.

“I... I need...” everything blurs as you try to stand back up and you fall into Steve, head spinning.

“Woah! Hey, you’re okay.” He holds you steady, brows furrowed with worry as he sees the glazed-over look in your eyes.

“Can you hear me?” You can’t answer, trying to crawl out of your skin as he helps you to the bed so you can lie down.

Tears well up in your eyes and Steve can’t help but panic, thinking he triggered the wrong thing last night.

“Honey. I need you to relax, okay?” You try to take deep breaths, if not for him then simply so you can figure out what the Hell is going on.

“What’s wrong?” You shake your head and take a few deep breaths. “I... I...” A knock on the front door cuts you off and you exhale deeply. “That’s Buck. He’s got Sarah. I’m gonna go get her and then we’re gonna see what’s wrong, okay?” You nod, watching as he gets up and walks out of the room.

Silent sobs wrack your frame as you realize what's happening to you, what he’s caused. The man who kidnapped you, wiped your memory, and raped you is going to get your daughter. The man who’s controlled you for nearly two years is holding you here against your will and there’s not a single person on the planet who’ll believe you.

~*~

“Mommy missed you so much,” you whisper, kissing Sarah on the head. She hugs you tightly, babbling nonsense into your ear while you pack your bag.

“What’s going on here?” Steve asks, frowning when he sees your stuff packed away.

“I feel homesick, I think. I want to see a doctor, find out what’s wrong.” He narrows his eyes at the shake in your voice then steps closer to you. “We’ve hardly been here. We’re going to enjoy our stay, alright? Then we’ll go home and see a doctor. But until then, I want to have fun.” He nips at your neck and you struggle to fight back tears.

Sarah chooses that exact moment to start wailing and you couldn’t be more grateful.

“She’s hungry and needs a nap,” you explain, pulling away from Steve and walking to the guest bedroom to feed her in privacy. “Where are you going?” Anger is seeping into his voice and you whimper softly.

“I-I just wanted a change of scenery. I’m sorry.” His features soften and he nods, kissing your forehead.

“I thought you were running from me.” You shake your head almost too quickly and he smiles. “Feed my daughter then put her for a nap. And... if you’re not already pregnant, I’m gonna get you full and growing my child by the end of the night.”

He leaves the room and you break down in tears, crying quietly into your hand as you sit down on the bed.

Sarah ceases her crying as soon as she latches onto your breast, but the same can’t be said for you.

How are you supposed to live knowing you’re being held captive?

Your mind goes to your father, Chief of police, and an idea starts to blossom.

~*~

“Dad? I need you to look into the reports that the Avengers put out about me. Something’s not right.” You can hear your dad moving around on the other line. “What exactly am I looking for?” He’s in business mode now.

“Anything that doesn’t seem right.” He exhales deeply. “I’ll try, kid. You safe over there?” “Yeah... for now. I need to get away from him, get out of here.” You glance over to the bathroom door, hoping that the fan, shower, and faucet are loud enough to mask the sound of you talking.

“I have to go now though. I’ll call you again soon.” You can hear him sigh again.

“Alright. I love you, kiddo. And I believe you. Please stay safe.” You sniffle, nodding to yourself. “I love you too. Talk to you soon.” You hang up and then strip until you’re naked and get into the shower.

You let the hot water run over your face, washing your salty tears away almost as fast as they appear.

It’s about ten minutes later when there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

“Sweetheart? You’ve been in here for a while.” He pops his head in and you avoid looking at him through the fogged-up glass shower doors.

“I-I just got the temperature right. I’m still not feeling the greatest.” He walks into the room and closes the door behind himself, taking his shirt off. Your heart thunders in your chest and he smiles. “You’re always so responsive.” Little does he know, your heart is racing for a very different reason than he thinks.

He rids himself of the rest of his clothes and gets into the shower behind you.

“Jesus, you always like the water so hot.” He doesn’t flinch away from the water though, instead, he steps further under it until his body is flushed against yours, hardening cock pressed against the small of your back.

An involuntary whimper of fear leaves your lips and he sighs, his mouth ghosting over your neck.

“The things you do to me...” His arms wrap around your midsection and you feel your body's reaction to him. Warmth builds in your core and you shift backwards, leaning into his embrace with little reluctance.

“I’m gonna fuck that tight pussy of yours. Make sure you’re pregnant. And you’re gonna take it, aren't you?” Your head jerks up and down, new tears filling your eyes as your body yearns for something that your mind wants to get away from. One of his hands comes up to hold your throat while the other trails down between your legs, sliding through the slick that’s gathered there.

You feel ashamed of the way you want him, the way your body’s been programmed to want him, but you can’t do anything to stop the soft moan of pleasure that leaves your lips when he slides two thick fingers inside of you.

“You like that? You like it when I fuck your greedy cunt with my fingers?” You make no move to answer and he squeezes your throat in warning. “You’d better fucking answer me when I ask you a question. Tell me how much you like it when I finger your pussy.” You choke on a moan as he curls his fingers and hits your g-spot, water stinging your eyes.

“I-I love it so much when you f-fuck my pussy with your fingers.” The words taste like acid and you feel absolute mortification fill you as you say them.

“Yeah, you love it. My good girl likes it when I fuck her little pussy. I’m gonna fucking destroy your cunt with my cock and you’re gonna like every second of it, aren’t you?” You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as he pushes you against the shower wall.

“Yeah, you are. Cause you’re daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?” You fight the urge to cringe as you nod again, biting your bottom lip when he pulls his fingers out of you.

He pulls his hands away from you for a moment, just to spin you around and face him. You look up at him with fear in your eyes and he feels himself harden.

In an instant, your legs are hiked up on his arms and you can’t help the squeak the leaves you at the quick movement.

He holds you against the wall, arms keeping your legs up as he backs up a couple of inches, eyes trailing over your body. You’re completely at his mercy (which you know he won’t grant) and he inspects the way you’re opened up to him, utterly vulnerable. He stands dominant as ever, eyes dark with lust as he steps back to you, hard cock sliding through your folds and bumping your clit.

You moan and grasp his shoulders, eyelids fluttering shut at the intense feeling.

“Look at you. Already a desperate mess for my cock. Pathetic.” You don’t want to open your eyes. Don't want to look at his face. So instead, you throw your head back a bit more, letting the hot water rush over your face.

“Don’t worry, I wanna be inside you.” He slides through your folds once more then pushes inside of you, groaning as your walls flutter to accommodate his size.

He stills inside of you for a moment, leaning forward to press kisses to your neck. You take a few deep breaths, water getting into your mouth as you moan softly.

“You always feel so good around my cock. Always so tight.”

You arch your back subconsciously, walls squeezing his cock in a silent plea for movement.

“You want me to fuck your pussy good, huh? Want me to fuck another baby into that tight cunt?” You nod breathlessly, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, leaving bright red crescent moons that are so so close to drawing blood.

“Fuck, you feel so good around me, your cunt was made to be fuckin’ wrecked by my cock.”

You bring your fist to your mouth, trying desperately to muffle your moans as he starts thrusting inside of you, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that would come with knowing he’s so close to making you come.

“Come on baby, you know you can’t hide your pleasure from me. You know I’ll fuck the moans out of your pretty little mouth.” He starts thrusting harder, each time hitting the spot inside of you that makes you see stars. You can’t hold back, and a loud moan leaves your lips as his thrusts slam you into the wall.

The pain brings you so much closer to the edge and you squeeze your eyes shut, teeth grinding as you try to focus on the coil tightening in your belly and not the man causing it.

“You gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum all over my cock?” He’s huffing hot pants of air onto your neck while he fucks you hard.

“Do it. Cum all over my dick.” Hot tears drip down your cheeks and you cum hard on his cock, muscles spasming as intense waves of pleasure roll through your body.

He fucks into you even harder, the tightening of your cunt around him sending him over the edge. His cum fills you and he grunts softly in your ear, body pressed tight against yours.

Silent tears stream down your cheeks and you have to hold back sobs as Steve stays glued to your body.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. So perfect for me, sweetheart. You’re mine, you know that, right? Mine forever. Nothing can change that.” You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, hopelessness sinking into your bones.

[babybottlepop96]

Home Again Chapter 1

Jean x Marco

Summary: Jeana and Marco have been friends since the tender ages of 5 and 7. They grow together and fall in love.... then Jean disappears.

Warnings: This story will contains mentions of past rape and abuse. The violence parts will probably be descriptive, but the rape will not be. There will be eventual smut further along into the story. 

~20 Years Ago~

"Jean, honey, this is mommy's new boss, Mr. Bott. He is the man who is going to help us, so I need you to be on your best behavior, okay?" The small five year old with ash blonde hair, dark brown undercut and honey golden eyes nodded his head as he stared at the tall dark haired man with dark chocolate eyes.

"Nice to meet you Master Jean." The man smiled down at the boy with a warm smile. "This is my son, Marco, he just turned seven a few months ago. Heard you enjoy dinosaurs and superheroes?" Jean nodded as he stared at the boy just two years older than himself with wide eyes, mapping out all the freckles along his tanned skin, milk chocolate eyes staring back into his own with a smile that could make the grumpiest of men relax. "Marco has a boatload of dinosaur and superhero toys, Marco, why don't you show Jean your room?" Marco smiled, grabbing Jean's hand and dragging him up the giant spiral staircase to the second floor.

Once inside the room, Jean's jaw dropped, the size of Marco's bedroom was bigger than his whole house combined. The ceiling was high with detailed trim along the edges, painted in a dark brown and a pale maroon shade of red. The bed was bigger than what any seven year old should have, a giant flat screen tv was mounted onto the wall across from the bed and games, movies and toys filled the rest of the room. "Do you want to play a video game? I have Spyro the dragon, Crash Bandicoot, Mario Kart?" The freckles kid asked, naming off games while setting up one of the many gaming consoles he owned.

"I… ummm.." Jean stood there nervously, rocking on his feet while twiddling his tiny thumbs. "I've never played a video game before." He looked up to see Marco smiling at him.

"That's okay! I'll teach you! We can start with Mario Kart, it's a multiplayer game, so I'll be able to teach you!" He smiled proudly as if he just won first place at the spelling bee.

"Oh, okay! Thank you!" Jean grabbed the controller Marco handed out to him with shaky hands. The two sat down on the squishy blue and purple bean bag chairs and started a game, Marco showing him how to pick his character, how to move and control the kart and how to throw the special abilities gained when hitting the boxes with the question marks.

"So, Jean, what's your favorite color?"

"Purple." Jean spoke as he tried to concentrate on what he was doing on the screen, still having a bit of trouble with the turns.

"Cool! Mines red!" Marco spoke as he gestures to the room around them. 

"Favorite food?" Jean asked, stealing a glance at the older kid next to him, he couldn't help but smile, Marco's smile was infectious.

"Spaghetti! Well, all kinds of pasta! Penne, ravioli, ricotta-"

"I thought ricotta was a cheese?" Jean questioned, he wasn't actually sure himself, he just knew that cheese was a luxury in his home, never having enough money most of the time for really fancy things like cheeses.

"Oh, yeah! It is!" Marco giggled, "I just really like ricotta cheese." Jean giggled too, this kid was alright. "You're my new best friend, Jean."

~8 Years Later~

"Will you just shut up, Yeager?" A thirteen year old Jean Kirstein, as calmly as he could, spoke with his fist balled up at his sides as he walked out of the middle school building.

"Come on, Kirstein, didn't your poor piss excuse for a mother teach you it isn't nice to tell people to shut up?" Eren, the school bully, asshole and dick, in Jean's opinion, insulted. That's when Jean's resolve faded into nothing and landed a swift punch to the tanned, unblemished skin, a crunch was heard throughout the whole parking lot. Eren fell to the ground but quickly regained his strength and landed a kick to Jean's guy. The wind was knocked from Jean's lungs, but his anger was dominant. He lunged for the bastard who insulted his mother, the only parent he ever knew who worked her ass off to make sure he survived, to give the douche-nozzle a good pounding, but warm, strong arms held him back before hos fist could collide with it's intended target.

"Jean." A warm voice whispered in his ear, Marco. He relaxed in the freckles arms but he was still livid. "Let's go." Then, he was dragged off to the black Chevy Impala.

"Is that your boyfriend Horse Face? Man, I knew you were fruity but seriously? You could do better!" Jean almost got out Marco's grip, but the taller, older teen had his grip firm and all but threw the teen into the back seat.

"Jean-" 

"No, don't start Marco! He taunted me about how I have to live my life, insulted my mother, then insulted you! He deserved to get his lights punched out!" Jean yelled, unshed tears forming in the corners of his Carmel eyes, threatening to spill any second. Marco just simply drew the younger into his arms and the driver drove towards Bott Manor. "He… he doesn't have to be so mean! I never did anything to him!" 

When they finally pulled into the Manor, Marco led Jean to his room, the same room they first became friends in eight years ago. The stuffed animals and small toys are now replaced with books, CDs and even more games and movies. Marco sat them down on the bed and neither spoke for a few minutes. "He was right, ya know." Marco finally spoke and Jean looked at him like he had four heads. "You could do better than me, if we were together."

"Marco Bott, you stop right there! No one could ever replace you! You are literally the best person alive! If I had the balls to kiss you I would!" Jean and Marco's eyes widened and Jean turned into a blushing, flustered mess. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I.. I don't know why I said tha-", but Jean couldn't finish, Marco's lips pressed firmly against his in a gentle yet passionate kiss that spoke thousands of words and so many feelings. 

"I love you Jean." Marco whispered as they pulled apart, foreheads still touching as both tried to regain their breath and slow their hearts. Jean cupped Marco's face in his hands and kissed him again.

"I love you too, Marco."

~2 Years Later~

Jean Kirstein, fifteen year old freshman at Trost High, walked through the park on his way home after work. He hates his job, hates working behind the counter at the local Taco Bell, hates that Eren works there too in the kitchen as a prep cook, hates dealing with annoying ass customers with snarky attitudes complaining that their crunch wrap supreme doesn't have enough sour cream. Well sorry, Karen, I don't make the fucking food nor do I determine how much sour cream goes on it. Today was a particularly bad day, Eren called off claiming he was sick when Jean really knew he was out with his "boyfriend" leaving him to prepare food and take orders. Then someone took a dump on the men's bathroom floor, didn't even try to aim for the fucking toilet! Just took a shot right there in the middle of the goddamn floor which he had to clean up himself while his manager bitched about him not doing his job at the counter. All Jean wanted to do was go home, talk to his boyfriend for a little before he eventually went to bed and got up early the next day for school.

It was a simple request that he wished for while the clock ticked by slowly. Jean was so into his own head, he never heard the footsteps coming up behind him until it was too late. A wet cloth covered his nose and mouth, his eyes widened for a second before the world faded to black.

-------------

"We have to find him!" Marco shouted at his father who was looking at him with a solemn expression. Marco paced back and forth in front of his father's desk, hands taking through his u kept hair. He has barely slept a wink since Jean vanished three days ago, his mind wondering about all the worst scenarios it could think of.

"We are trying, son, but we have no evidence of anything taking place. No struggle, no personal belongings, nothing to suggest anything has even happened."

"But Jean couldn't have just vanished into thin air! He wouldn't run away either! He loved his mom too much to just up and leave her and me…" Marco trailed off, thinking about his and Jean's time together over the last two years. Picnic and arcade dates, eating pizza and hot wings while they binge watched their favorite tv series at that moment, the soft and gentle kisses they shared between one another before they parted ways, always promising to text each other once they got home, letting the other one know they got there safe. That's the single most reason why Marco knew something was wrong. Neither of them forgot to send the 'im home safe and sound' text. Not once, in the ten years that they've known each other, did they miss sending that text. Even as children and Marco's father gave Mrs. Kirstein a cell phone as a gift to keep in contact, did they miss THAT text.

"Son, we are doing everything we can to find Jean. But we also need to think rationally, Jean might not ever be found." Marco froze at those words, Jean may be lost forever? He may never see those honey eyes, beautiful smile, perfect sketches and vibrant paintings painted by those slender pale hands and fingers? May never run his hands through those soft locks of ash and brown ever again? That's when Marco broke, he screamed and fell to the floor in a fetal position on the floor. His father looked at him with hurt in his own dark chocolate eyes, for him, his son and Jean's mother who was currently out looking for her only child as they speak. Don Bott rose from his leather chair and walked around the desk, kneeling in front of his son. He put his hand on his back and whispered a pained, "I'm sorry, Marco."

~10 Years Later (Present Day)~

Here he was, once again, at an underground auction. Mr. Bott hated these things, but he had no other choice, ever since Mrs. Kirstein passed away three years ago from a drunk driving accident, he hasn't been able to find someone who cleaned as well as she had. Every person he hired had an attitude or just didn't speak at all, always forgetting to dust the book shelves or take out the trash. So he relented and took up on Mr. Ackerman's suggestion to go to an auction. Getting there early to get a good seat, Mr. Bott, along with Mr. Ackerman, Mr. Braun and Mr. Hoover, the Dons of their respected parts of New York City, all sat down to converse while the auction for the…. Pleasure portion of the auction slowly came to a close. Mr. Bott cringed as the scum of New York bid money on these poor people just for the gratification of getting their dick in a hole.

"And now for our last and best prize of the night!" The auctioneer spoke as the Dons sighed in relief, none of them liked the idea of people being sold for pleasure as they themselves, tried for years to get it under control but never succeeding. "This one has been in the business for ten years, used and a bit rough looking, but this little beauty will be the best fuck you ever had. Clean and pliant, not a bad body either if I do say so myself. Number 54!" The announcer spoke as someone roughly shoved a young man out into the center of the room. The numbers flying from the crowd started pouring in left and right and it got the Dons wondering whom this "prize" was. "Three-thousand!" "Ten-thousand!" "Twenty Five-thousand!"

"Two hundred-thousand!" The crowd went quiet after hearing the deep booming voice coming from the front row.

"Two hundred-thousand! Going once! Going twice! Sold! To Do Bott!" The young man was then hauled out of the room to be prepped for leaving the facility.

--------------

"Dad! I'm home! Reiner, Bert, Mikasa, Eren and Armin are here too!" Marco called from the doorway as he and the others walked into the Manor. "Dad?!"

"In the living room son!" He heard his father call and the group walked towards the sound.

"What's up? We heard your voicemail and hauled ass here. What happened?" Marco asked as soon as he saw his father, eyes brimmed with tears and a small smile. The others in the room, specifically Dr. Yeager, looked at them, small sad but slightly happy smiles on their faces. "What's going on here?" The group looked at each other, confused and concern plastered on their faces. Once Mr. Bott moved to the side and gestured to the couch, it was then that the group realized what was happening. On the couch asleep, lay a thin pale man, dark circles under his eyes, bruises and scars and even some fresh wounds, now neatly stitched up thanks to Dr. Yeager, littering his almost naked form. Marco stared at the man laying on the pale green couch and tears flooded down his cheeks. "Jean?"

[kinkforink]

Umm I couldn't find the original twt I saw but these mentioned people are the same ones mentioned in that other thread too,, sending it here cause I couldn't find DM

Tw// very heavy topics surrounding SA and pedophillia mentioned bellow, as well as me describing wtf I just read from a couple of these authors. And Im not kidding, this is very heavy. Please skip this post if this poses a risk to being too much for you.

Oh, fuck. I hope you don’t mind me breaking character, but I just skimmed through one of those story plots and attempted to see what one of the first one contained and i couldn’t make it past the first fucking paragraph without dissociating and putting my phone down. I’ve read some obscure shit within this fandom before— I have even thrown up after reading a very gross one that I don’t care to mention. But uhm.. I genuinely did not think there was a side to this fandom that contains shit like this.I thought I hit the very bottom when I regretfully stumbled across SCAT smut. Please don’t look that up if you don’t know what it is. You will regret it.

See, I’m a SA survivor myself so I completely understand and support the SA survivalists who write their own noncon-themed smut as a coping mechanism for their conditioned kinks. Because it’s more about the dynamics and loosing a sense of power, which is just a way to purge the trauma. They don’t do it to harm or encourage, and I know it is a safe way to cope without twisting up or reflecting someone’s actual morality. But as someone who is also a victim of CM.. i can tell just by the three sentences i just read that isn’t purging any trauma.

Okay so I skimmed down a little further in a second attempt and looked at another authors work and these people are actually fucking sick. This is scripted CP and it’s hyperfantizing a very deep-seeded perversion and anybody who can create and ENJOY something like this isn’t coping. People can write noncon and dubcon fantasies with age appropriate adults without being rapists or rape enthusiast. You have to want to actually rape somebody and go through with it to be a rapist. But you literally can’t just fantasize about a child/toddler in a sexual light and not be a pedophile. Literally, Pedophilia by definition is the state of getting arroused by a juvenile. As soon as that happens, you’re a pedophile. They’re writing about TODDLERS and ELEMENTARY SCHOOL KIDS. This isn’t a kink. The fact that these people are vividly describing and invisioning a child— the one I just skimmed through involved a 6 year old in a onesie— while honing in and hypersexualizing their complete innocence as well as the explicit violation that followed is authentically pedophilic. I read that and felt like it was entirely illegal and I think they need to be found by the fbi and committed or arrested. the people paying for more it are just as repulsive. This shit also seems to be all incest based as well so I’m extremely worried that the inspiration they’re getting with these family oriented plots is a little too close to home.

Fuck me man, I’m sorry I can’t answer your original question but I really appreciate the awareness and I’m probably going to make a bigger post on my main because this is too fucking much. My chest feels so tight rn.

[punkscowardschampions]

Joe & Ronnie

Joe: [Enough time later that you might think you’ll not hear from him again, realistically like a day or two but given what you did it’d seem like longer/regret and dip ‘cos ya should but we know that ain’t it]

Joe: you spent Charlie’s modelling money yet

Ronnie: long gone baby like you

Ronnie: if you were after a cut shouldve taken it sooner

Joe: nah, it’s yours

Joe: his but sounds like he enjoyed himself, by her account

Joe: no need to ask what you spent it on

Ronnie: but you wanna hear my account yeah

Ronnie: thats what this is

Joe: do you think that’s what this is

Ronnie: youre not taking up space in my head mckenna

Joe: and not in your diary, as you pointed out up top

Joe: busy busy yeah

Ronnie: i werent asked to audition to be a doss student cunt 💔

Ronnie: & the one he brought back didnt fancy me enough to ask me to join in either

Ronnie: busy getting out their way

Joe: leave it a couple years you’ll be a mature student and they ask less questions

Joe: how rude

Joe: after you told him about your massive cock and everything? 💔

Ronnie: go ed and dig me up when youve graduated then

Ronnie: 3s a crowd when 2 of em are scousers & the others from fuck knows where didnt have you to translate or the horse for scale

Joe: after an invite? Sure thing, sis

Joe: not Kent then, gutted

Ronnie: less questions you said put your ? away gobshite

Ronnie: not england but i aint a skinhead who cares so hes as alive as dorothy ever leaves em

Joe: people love that though

Joe: black EDL members and asian conservatives, such a laugh for ‘em

Ronnie: too late to go back and put the boot in now he ll have been shown the door & it wasnt me getting a name or number

Joe: his loss all ‘round then, I get it

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: alright, so I need linking

Ronnie: you got cash or you selling yourself

Joe: I’ve got cash, just not the contact

Ronnie: hand it over ill pick up for you

Joe: you think i’m that green

Ronnie: what colour do you reckon you are

Joe: you’ve got no prejudice, apparently, so what’s it matter

Joe: [picture of some of the multi-coloured bruises you acquired]

Ronnie: he was a pussy & you want me to connect you to people who aint

Ronnie: youre an easy target

Joe: you wanna pocket my money yourself instead, I get it

Joe: you can have a % of the shit, alright

Joe: not asking you to do it for nothing

Ronnie: thats all theyd do when you show up with your baby face and habit

Ronnie: ill take your money & still have it pocketed cos i dont need student loans to score no shit are you asking me to do it for nothing

Joe: what you gonna give me to keep hold of ‘til you give me mine

Ronnie: add an arm to your collection what do i care

Joe: yeah, what do ya

Ronnie: you want a easy pick up get a schoolboy plug i dont know any

Ronnie: i care about money youre ready to waste

Joe: that’s part of the appeal

Joe: why get it in a safe, nearly legitimate way

Joe: half the fun, eh, alright, alright

Joe: do it then, I don’t know no fucker else I can ask yet, I’ve gambled on worse

Ronnie: i just wanna get it thats the fun

Ronnie: get into a fight with whoever the fuck you like whenever for a pissing contest

Joe: you wanna start one ‘fore I’ve given you the cash and you’ve given me mine?

Joe: that’s blatant bullshit

Ronnie: you wish

Ronnie: save your childish excitement for the phone call home like

Joe: nah, you’re full of shit that it’s not just as much about the company and authentic experience

Joe: there’s plenty dealers that are nowt but businessmen

Joe: nothing but a transaction and they’ll sell to a junkie and city banker as one in the same

Joe: don’t act like you don’t have a deathwish or what was the point of taking me there and showing me

Ronnie: where the fuck am i meeting buisinessmen or getting the cash to pay em

Ronnie: dont be fucking rem

Joe: everyone’s stupid enough to wanna get their dick sucked over cold hard cash every other deal, no matter how presentable or legit they play

Ronnie: ive got the links ive got

Joe: fine

Joe: where you wanna do this then

Ronnie: whats your problem

Ronnie: [but a location anyway]

Joe: what’s mine

Joe: thought we’d covered that in length or are you less convinced now

Ronnie: convinced youve got fuck all to cry about

Joe: obviously

Joe: definitely bother with you if that were true

Ronnie: you wanted a big sister im doing all the hand holding

Joe: I never did and I still don’t

Joe: but you carrying on with the pretence if it makes you feel better

Ronnie: i didnt come to you or ask for fuck all to make me better

Joe: yeah you’re blameless

Joe: all in my fucked up head and not yours

Joe: what’s it like being an 👼🏼

Ronnie: i already told you you aint in my head & you werent in my veins for long enough to get fucking soft about it

Joe: i’ll be there in [however long that’d take you]

Ronnie: boss

Joe: you sound like them, you know

Ronnie: i dunno who the fuck youre talking about

Joe: the rest of the fam, of course

Joe: glad to see that the level of chatting bollocks to make yourself feel better is genetic, s’not depressing at all

Ronnie: that still dont clear fuck all up for me except that youre a bigger cunt than i thought

Joe: you don’t think about me

Joe: and none of that shit happened, your memory loss and confusion extends to that, don’t worry

Ronnie: you like me but you still compare me to em every chance you get

Ronnie: fuck you

Joe: yeah, fuck me

Joe: like you haven’t just

Joe: forget it, actually forget it

Ronnie: youre as full of shit as you reckon I am

Ronnie: forget that its been ages & youre speaking up now cause you want something

Joe: i haven’t been able to flick my brain onto anything else, never mind shut it down, I haven’t slept or eat or done anything to take me away from it, you

Joe: and it meant nothing to you

Joe: fuck you

Ronnie: gear not me

Ronnie: theres the authentic experience you were going on about

Joe: no

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: this is what I mean

Joe: you know as well as I do what it was

Joe: why are you fucking lying and saying I am

Ronnie: im a junkie all i do is lie & nothing else means anything to me

Ronnie: youre worse than green if you dont fucking know that

Joe: you’re lying that it meant nothing

Joe: not lying that it did

Joe: even if it made you fucking sick, that isn’t nothing and I don’t believe you

Ronnie: dont believe me i dont care who the fuck are you

Joe: your brother

Ronnie: youre nothing

Joe: yeah right

Ronnie: the dealer means more

Joe: already pointed out you’re that much of a cliche

Ronnie: what we can’t both be a cliche take it then

Joe: never heard that one

Ronnie: nows your chance to make a final comparison between me & whatever family member you hate or are turned on by the most

Joe: final chance, alright then, sound even more stupid

Ronnie: sound like more of a pussy that youre kicking off over this but not gonna fuck off

Joe: why would I?

Joe: i’m not pretending that it weren’t a thing

Ronnie: nah youre pretending it was

Ronnie: whoever the fuck ever told you youre special is the liar here like

Joe: your mate don’t count, you ain’t done that before either so fuck off with your jaded routine

Ronnie: hes my brother when & where it counts

Joe: there’s no blood and no reason not to go there, that’s where it counts

Ronnie: if i wanted to fuck you too your ma wouldnt stop me she means even less than you

Joe: yeah

Joe: you and your life aren’t totally fucked because of how much you care

Ronnie: you dont know shit about me or my life

Joe: you wish

Ronnie: you dont

Joe: or do you, actually

Joe: you shove it in everyone’s face, what do you reckon everyone thinks

Ronnie: youve seen a few scars & now youve seen into my soul yeah

Ronnie: shut the fuck up for all you know i lived a couple of doors down from you for your whole bullshit childhood

Joe: you look like that and reckon it doesn’t scream mommy issues? Fuck off, you aren’t that dumb

Ronnie: fuck you

Ronnie: everything you do is pure about her

Joe: not everything but I can admit she contributed

Ronnie: shes the 1st bitch to fuck me over but not the only is the difference between us

Ronnie: that unwanted bullshit was a pattern

Joe: you don’t know me either

Ronnie: i know you had a set of parents who kept hold of you however fucking west you were

Ronnie: no cunt was calling you racist shit or trying to touch you up

Joe: you’ve got a monopoly on fucked then, got it

Ronnie: like fuck have i but mine dont start & stop at mommy dearest how you think

Joe: of course it doesn’t

Joe: neither does mine

Ronnie: stop acting like youre an expert on how and why my head is wrecked and i wont have to kick yours in

Joe: you started it

Joe: but that’s good with me

Ronnie: get over yourself mckenna

Ronnie: you like what i start

Joe: i prefer the other night

Ronnie: yeah i like when youre getting punched in the face too

Joe: you can do the honours in a bit

Joe: fuck healing, yeah

Ronnie: what did your girlfriend say

Joe: oh, I got mugged and her dad’s gonna get her some pepper spray and a rape alarm 👍

Ronnie: hot

Ronnie: but she ll have dreamt you fell off the horse only got the single fantasy in her

Joe: that her dad’s so responsible and caring? would be her #2 if she had the range

Ronnie: if hes delivering that shit in person let me know so i can start something with him

Joe: oh god

Joe: that reminds me

Joe: She wants to invite Charlie over for like, a dinner party or something

Ronnie: if her daddy is there hes gonna need that rape alarm back off her to fend off mary

Joe: 😂

Joe: idk if she’s that oblivious and now wants Charlie to fuck her, or she thinks he’s my only mate 🙄

Ronnie: shes over you baby i scared her off

Joe: or she thought you was gonna ask for a line 😏

Joe: if that’s true I’ll owe you, again

Ronnie: ket hook up

Joe: you think she’ll let her love be in pain on your behalf?

Joe: not likely

Ronnie: not gonna ask politely

Joe: hot

Joe: I was gonna hit you up sooner

Joe: I tried to find you after

Ronnie: you didnt try hard

Joe: I only had one eye, by that point

Ronnie: im an attention whore with screaming mommy issues cant make it no easier to spot me in a crowd

Joe: in that crowd?

Joe: or will you be pissy if I call you dime a dozen

Ronnie: still got the accent as my own personal rape alarm

Joe: where’d you go then

Ronnie: youre a tourist theres no point telling you

Joe: if you left with that lad, no need to go over the details, got the picture

Ronnie: why the fuck would i leave with him

Joe: you mean you weren’t in his pants for his benefit

Joe: careful, getting bit close to honesty

Ronnie: i mean to go where i dont need a horse or an en suite

Ronnie: youre a hopeless romantic like

Joe: that’s a new complaint, I’ll tell my exes

Joe: deffo their fault after-all, buzzing

Ronnie: how many are there

Joe: get less slut-shaming off Soph, cheek

Joe: I dunno, I had to keep it moving because of all the secret mommy issues, you know

Joe: I’ll do a tally

Ronnie: its not already carved into your arm no wonder theyre pissy at you

Joe: if that worked for any of ‘em they could come back from the ex thing

Joe: 💔

Ronnie: try her initials whatever the fuck they are in between dinner party courses and win her back

Joe: you should come

Ronnie: id be made up if she pepper sprays me

Joe: it’d be the only way this won’t be the worst evening ever

Ronnie: loads of ways to take out your other eye ill pass you a spoon

Joe: give a go doing my A-Z carving with it too

Joe: 🤞 she invites her twink classmate and you can try for your threesome

Ronnie: she’ll get in there before us cause youll have distracted me with the state of your cackhanded 💘 carving

Joe: can’t say I’d be sorry

Ronnie: you catholics invented anal but i reckon its overrated

Joe: you’d probably feel different if that’s where your g-spot was but can’t say I disagree with that either, not that that’s anything too deep to have in common so we’re fine

Joe: and raised strictly un-catholic so the pope can’t have a go

Ronnie: nah no cunt would find it if it was there either

Joe: 💔 baby

Ronnie: you mean it

Joe: yeah

Joe: which bit, though

Ronnie: my invite to the shitshow

Joe: ‘course

Joe: if it’s shit, you’ll only have yourself to blame for not livening it up enough

Joe: and I will have to kill myself if I have to be there sincerely

Ronnie: he knows about you

Ronnie: might wanna kill yourself if he opens his mouth

Joe: oh

Joe: so I’m gonna have to act all nice and respectful, yeah

Ronnie: if you wanna make me sound full of shit

Joe: what did you say?

Ronnie: told him i shot you he werent best pleased about it but youre not his brother so fuck all he can do

Joe: sweet

Joe: still not gonna fuck him though

Ronnie: hed get your g spot for you 🍒

Joe: not if he’s worried about my innocence

Ronnie: hes worried about my head getting wrecked not yours only bitch who is

Joe: you’ll have to tell him what you told me

Joe: I ain’t in there

Ronnie: you fairies bring everything back to your obsession with your mothers course hes no fucking exception

Ronnie: & cos i stole my file when i was a kid he thinks i give a shit too you were part of the happy 🏡 picture he was getting in a flap about but i tore through that 🌈 optimism with the 💉

Ronnie: you can have lively

Joe: better he knows than goes on about it

Joe: it’s far from 🌈☀️ even if you were up for it

Ronnie: every soft lad but him knows its ⛈ if not outright 🌨

Joe: when I started looking, if you were like them, I weren’t even gonna bother to talk to you

Joe: just give her the info and let her do it herself

Joe: but I knew you weren’t

Ronnie: told you youd have liked me at 9

Joe: 😏 yeah yeah

Ronnie: shed have bailed before scrolling that far back even with the pure messy sketchy shit kept off for the sake of dorothys cv

Joe: idk,she bangs on about her own glory days as ‘precaution’ enough

Joe: probably dead proud

Ronnie: raincheck on dinner i gotta go slit my throat after hearing that like

Joe: yeah, it’s real fun

Joe: far as starters go though, you’re welcome

Ronnie: cos you owe me go ed & drag my corpse there dress it up like horse girl and send her that info so i dont make her proud yeah

Joe: gotcha

Joe: the fibres sending Soph down are an unfortunate side-affect or added bonus, depending how you feel

Ronnie: dressing like a dyke art teacher is shady to my mourners hed have loved having me on the team

Joe: sure she wants to be buried in her jodhpurs, like

Joe: not gay but kink-adjacent, he’ll be alright

Ronnie: inside the horse youll have to hollow it out for her

Joe: poor horse not ready to be made into glue but there we go

Ronnie: but when youre ready to follow me to the grave only need a plastic bag

Joe: follow you anywhere, or whatever sounds good in a song

Ronnie: not had a little brother like that before

Ronnie: never know the mime is behind you or not

Joe: he shy or you cut his tongue out altogether

Ronnie: saving that for you cos i know how you feel about 🍒 & theres fuck all else left

Ronnie: hed never get attention whore out or mommy issues w & m forget it

Joe: I can feel the slutshame

Joe: there hasn’t been hundreds, come on

Joe: you were being weird, I needed to get you talking, it worked

Ronnie: how many then

Joe: I guess 6 total, not counting anyone before like 15 because that isn’t real, maybe 7 but we might be pushing the term girlfriend there

Ronnie: 💘 how many songs

Joe: not destined for the bin? Fuck all

Joe: cliche points off the charts though

Ronnie: i know youve seen the busking vids hes still got posted up that im in i cant say shit

Joe: you’re good

Joe: even when you have to go Top40 for the tips

Joe: class thing about the cello, looks more pitiful ‘cos the case is massive, people try to fill it, like

Ronnie: soz im not killing myself fast enough for you

Ronnie: miss me with your schoolboy cliches 🖕

Joe: don’t worry, the songs were ‘insert name here’ jobs if they were anything

Joe: don’t wanna sound like I’m singing about a 75 year old bloke, do I

Ronnie: if itd been changed you wouldnt have found me shit at stalking as you are songwriting like

Joe: you’ve already got your own song anyway, don’t be greedy

Ronnie: ill keep you some 🐴 if youre not

Ronnie: 1st thing i tried if you do wanna follow after us

Joe: trip down memory lane we can both handle

Joe: ‘course

Ronnie: dont have any exes itll have to do

Joe: prefer the ket

Ronnie: write a song about it

Joe: [blatantly will in a pisstake way]

Ronnie: k gonna be dead easy to carve with the spoon can do it rattling

Joe: your faith in my abilities is appreciated

Ronnie: youre not fucking here youll have to

Joe: just got out the station hold on

Ronnie: fuck telling me to hold on you hurry up

Joe: if you shut up I can run

Ronnie: can you

Joe: fuck off i’m not that unfit 😂

Ronnie: nah dead fit far as homos and horse girls reckon

Joe: lucky me

Ronnie: youve had 7 bitches no cunts gonna feel sorry for you

Joe: all various shades of boring though

Ronnie: no shit

Joe: so you’re saying you ain’t gutted for me? 💔

Ronnie: your virginity sob story is like me in that crowd of cunts you couldnt find your way through

Joe: Christ, don’t remind me, first and last time I ever went near a virgin

Ronnie: theyre all older than you itd be pathetic well as boring

Joe: exactly

Joe: too much hassle having to worry about them, destroys any point of doing it

Ronnie: gotta put their kids in the cupboard as is

Joe: fortune in gaffa tape, like

Ronnie: still not 💔 mckenna going on about how flush you are since i met you

Joe: amazing how far you can stretch the loans when you steal Soph’s food and do fuck all that ain’t necessary

Joe: not like I actually dated any sugar mommies

Joe: should’ve, clearly but carefree 18-25s are easiest actually

Ronnie: gears necessary now youre gonna have to start stealing more than her pasta shapes

Joe: you’re my manager now, are you 😏

Joe: there’s shit I can do, music gigs, it’s fine

Ronnie: fine for your baby habit

Ronnie: it wont last

Joe: alright doom and gloom

Joe: not gonna learn how to cover my teeth yet

Ronnie: fuck off & fuck you

Joe: i’m here so come say it to my face

Ronnie: youre not better than me cos you can nod through a cello practice

Joe: where’d I say I was

Ronnie: when you said how fucking functional you are

Joe: I didn’t, I said I could get cash, that’s all

Ronnie: so can i its not the fucking point

Joe: and I didn’t say you couldn’t so what’s yours

Ronnie: youre not a fucking kid at the pool if youre gonna pussy out cos the waters too cold fucking do it

Joe: I’m in and you know that

Joe: so let me in

Ronnie: bullshit are you

Ronnie: youre proud of yourself for treading water

Joe: you’ve got the plug, I’ve got the cash, what is the problem with that

Joe: it’s an equalizer, if anything

Ronnie: we ll never be equal

Ronnie: you can cover your arm run off to class & pick up another boring girl whenever the fuck you like

Joe: what do you want me to do, seriously

Joe: say it

Ronnie: stop talking

Ronnie: fucks sake

Joe: [Show up hun]

Ronnie: [I love the idea that they have to wait around for ages for this dealer in awkward silence haha]

Joe: [the casual tension]

Ronnie: [god knows what she’s gonna use to ease the tension with a lil bit o self harm because god knows where they even are, I worry about you and all the infections you would get gal]

Joe: [the casual one-upmanship until you’re interrupted]

Ronnie: [we know she’s not paying him in cash and we know why she’s not please don’t get into another fight Joseph]

Joe: [got to let that one go as she was specifically like you’re not better than me, probably fuck off whilst that happens ‘cos not gonna stick about]

Ronnie: [take your heroin and calm down huns]

Joe: [hope you take enough to pass out ‘cos you’re not gonna be in any sort of mood now either of ya lol]

Ronnie: [we’ll do you both that favour]

[toziers]

can you explain what's going on right now? i keep seeing big IT blogs talking about some discourse or something but i have no idea what they're talking about other than it involves you lol

alright i like. i truly do not like having diScOurSE out in public because i’m not one to air out my dirty laundry 24/7 but seeing as how it was brought into public against my will i feel like the least i can do is clear up the situation for those who’ve been seeing the posts. 

i’m putting this under the cut bc it’s long. tws for some biphobia, brief mention of transphobia and, at the end, a rape mention. 

so if you don’t know: hi, i’m migz, i’m an it fandom blogger. its okay, i know, its really cool. part of my shtick here is that i like to turn normal thirst tags into works of art for the sake of comedy. perhaps you’ve seen some of my highlights from my “fhg” tag - perhaps your brain has been spared. either way, it became kind of “my thing” around the third or fourth week (mid nov) of me having this blog. at first, i tagged just about every ask i got mentioning the thirst tags with “bill hader” - they had to do with him, so why not tag him? it would draw more like minded people! about two days into that i got a message asking me to tag my nsfw. i am a big dumb idiot, and apologize for not initially doing it. i havent had a following bigger than like 10 in several years and completely spaced on basic etiquette. so by the end of november i was tagging everything applicable  with “notsfw” and “bill hader”. 

now you’re caught up.

on december 1st i got this message from user billhaderanti:

now i want to start by saying i absolutely was in the wrong here. i didn’t even think about how many people were being subjected to the asks i was getting - especially ones who had no idea they were all jokes. i don’t track the bill hader tag, so it just didn’t even occur to me - that’s ignorance on my part, and to anyone who was subjected to the terrors of me before my tagging system: i am genuinely sorry. i relay the same sentiment in my response, though you can tell i’m on edge.

and they replied:

clearly they Were offended by it but thats.. not the point. at this point, im feeling Really weird about the whole interaction, but still understanding, because again - i GET it. i know my posts are gross - that’s the point. it doesn’t make it excusable, though, which is why i understand why people are offended. so i responded with the only solution i Knew would keep us both safe and happy posting on our own blogs. 

so i thought this would be the end of things! i’d been pretty anxious lately already since i’d started to receive anons telling me i was gross and whore-ish for thirst posting in this way (i delete all of those, so if ur thinking about sending one, i guess no one’s stopping you but it won’t be seeing the light of the dashboard). i’m unsure if it was immediately or a few hours later, seeing as how i have a bad concept of time and the post-dates are right on the edge between nov 30 and dec 1, but i went to their blog - because anyone who has been on the internet knows the opportunity to vague post is near irresistible. and...what do ya know

fair! it’s their blog. however i am an emotionally fragile egg girl and immediately got freaked out. the odds that they were the only one who thought this were low. and, again, i’ve been very open on my blog about how important it is to respect boundaries; my posts are absolutely prone to breaking those boundaries people have created for themselves. 

so i made my own, semi-vague post, letting my following know (and i’m pretty sure i’d answered asks about it before, but this is going to be long enough w/o me searching those up too) that i understood if they wanted to block me or unfollow or whatever - people need to create their own safe spaces. the tension is pretty clear in the tags, i’m not trying to hide that. i felt that the way this woman slid into my dm’s was pretty abrasive (just my opinion/how it made me personally feel) and i let myself be a lil emotional about it in the tags of my post.

alright! maybe this is the end. maybe we both go our separate ways and post happily on our own blogs... except it’s not the end. later in the day (some of this was happening like 1/2am, so now its Day day, i believe - again, not good w time passage lol)

clearly, i’m upset. my groupchat double checked that i didn’t get too emotional in my response - did i mention im anxious about discourse lol - and apparently.. it did the trick. she didn’t message me again. great. it was over. 

at this point, i decided i needed to make an even bigger change. so a few days after i’d calmed down i created an entirely new tag for my thirst posts so if people hadn’t already hidden the notsfw posts or just blocked me outright, they’d have a third option to escape the madness. at this point, id had my blog about 6? weeks, but there were still 2k posts for me to sift through - some of them were completely untagged. i also had to do it post by post, because one of xkits features - the mass re-tagger - was getting blogs deleted for some reason, and i wasn’t going to do that. so i spent a few days going through all 2k+ posts, adding the “fhg” tag. 

YEEHAW! a brand new tagging system, no more hopping into the bill hader tag (minus one or two really funny, not super explicit asks, like the bill hader farquaad meme), and, tbf, i’d completely put this woman out of my mind. i don’t seek out drama and do my best to stay in my lane. yesterday, i checked my activity for the first time in awhile since id put out a couple new original posts that had started to get traction and i Love reading tags. i noticed a mutual had @’d me, and realized i havent checked my @’s in...ever, maybe. i see a post from my good pal billhaderanti. 

since i dont follow them and never check my @’s, i’d completely missed it. however, once i did see it, i was horrified. id gone through all that fucking work to keep my blog My Blog and also respect everyone’s boundaries and it still hadn’t been enough. i’d been awake for almost 24 hours and went. a little crazy. and i didn’t reply immediately because i just had no words. i sent it to my friends because i... i just wasn’t going to be able to figure it out myself. 

there’s a lot to unpack in this post alone, but whatever, i’m gonna put my own grievances with the immaturity of 1. making a callout post to begin with when i’d been nothing but civil 2. making a callout post about something as (in the grand scheme of Life) minor as some tags where i refer to a someone’s genitals as a “whack pack” and 3. making a callout post in such a rude way - aside. at the end, she calls me (and whoever else!) a demonic mlw (man loving woman, we assumed, and then later confirmed with a post further back on her blog). 

which - yeah, we started scrolling. at first we were looking for more vague blogs, and then we just...started finding things. billhaderanti is a self proclaimed lesbian separatist, which... fine. but it’s already pretty clear that this woman hates me on some level simply because i am a bi woman (demonic mlw, remember!) which is just. damn man i can’t believe we are still fighting the biphobic fight lol. so the more we scrolled, the more we uncovered - and not just the biphobic / vaguely mtf transphobic things they posted (or put in tags), but we also found that they had their OWN thirst tags. certainly not as hyperbolically comedic as mine, but they were there, talking about his body and his person the same (and, frankly, a bit creepier for other reasons) as mine. 

there’s one post in particular that snatched my wig in it’s creepiness - and i say creepiness in the sense that it feels personal. like this woman feels like she knows bill to some degree where she can say these things. my tags have always had a sense of distance, as they’re written for humor. and maybe this particular post was written for comedic purposes, but it doesn’t read that way, and if it WAS, then she has no right to call ME out for MY comic tags and posts. 

i’ll let it speak for itself, mostly because i don’t want to read it again. 

i also won’t be going through her blog again to find the posts with biphobic and other Interesting:tm: tags because there are plenty and i just really! want to be done with the whole ordeal! her blog is public and i’m sure you can all find it and look to your heart’s content. 

feeling a bit feral and a bit pissed off now that we knew the depth of how rotten this woman’s vibes were, a couple of my pals made a post or two similar to what my tag’s are like except turned up to eleven (if possible) - and tagged them with “bill hader” (and notsfw!!). yes, a bit childish, but at this point, the entire situation was childish, and making jokes was truly the only way we were going to get through it. another vague post went up on her blog soon after.

talking down to us, calling us children, and then for whatever reason calling us virgins... whatever, weird post. around this time most of us (est) went to bed, because it was nearing 3 or 4 in the morning. 

and then today happened. i woke up fresh and ready for the day after a wonderful 4 hours of sleep and found that jane had made an incredibly intelligent post in response to the situation. i won’t ss it, but i’ll LINK in case you missed it. attached there in the reblog is my own response. i think they can speak for themselves. 

after that, things were kind of jumbled, since i wasn’t online a lot and when i was i was Not checking my activity simply because i was afraid of what i’d see. for the most part, it ended up just being support (which i am very grateful to all of you for - it means a lot that you all enjoy my content to any degree). 

there was some more vague posting from both “““““sides”””””” of the “““““argument”””””” - mostly just people restating the fact that this is a public space and we should All be aware of how we effect others. i still hadn’t heard directly from billhaderanti, so i assumed we’d all be dropping and disengaging and moving on. i still wasn’t blocked, though, so who really knew what would happen. 

eventually, it culminated in this last post. tw for mentions of rape

i’m going to start by saying that 

1. there are nearly no teenagers that were involved in this. im turning 23 in january and most of my friends are 20+. maybe one or two are 19. 

2. none of us sent any sexually violent asks - most of us didn’t send asks at all. i believe one or two of my friends admitted to sending asks however they assured me their nature wasn’t bad; as far as i know, everyone remained civil in whatever went on (again, unclear to me as to what was being sent; no one was actively posting or talking about it. if billhaderanti wishes to elaborate, they can, but i don’t have anything to put in). 

3. before i finish this, i would like to apologize to billhaderanti. as a comedian - not just my stupid tags, i mean in real life, too - i know that humor can hurt. it’s not always funny, it’s not just stupid hahas. sometimes things that are supposed to be jokes just hit people differently and cause bad things. i recognize that. i never meant to trigger you (if you’re reading this) or cause you any severe mental/emotional harm. i apologize for my humor bringing up your trauma, and i never meant for that. regardless of my own thoughts and opinions about the nature of my posts/the thirst tags themselves, they hurt you, and i’m sorry. 

anyway, i’m going to wrap this up (i’m bad at endings, what can i say! steven king and i took the same writer’s class!). if you read all this... sorry. i probably won’t be taking any asks about it, because i find the whole “drama” of this to be stupid and rooted in some seriously biphobic issues this fully grown woman has. 

tldr; i attempted to contain my blog so this woman could exist and function safely on her blog, but it wasn’t enough for her, so she called me out, and then some of the fandom called Her out for being biphobic and mean and overall just immature about the situation. as of now, she’s yet to block me, though her and her wife have blocked a few of my friends. her wife continues to clown on my friends. this post was made for clarity’s sake. the end, i’m getting a drink. 

[lostinaseaoffictionalbliss]

Bark At The Moon part 10

A/N: My taglist for this is open as well as my forever tags. However I warn you guys I’m currently working on an original book (the second in the series), but I will still answer and take requests on this blog and my side blog @im-weak-for-jaskier

Pairing: werewolf!Sam x OC

Warnings: this is for the story over all and not any specific chapter. Language, violence, attempted rape, torture, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) marking (not ABO even though Sam is an Alpha) but I’ll will tag the chapters appropriately.

Word Count: 1062

It took a few more days, but Nola felt well enough to go back to work. Her wounds had healed and she had convinced Sam, she would be safe inside the hotel. The wolves might show up again, but they wouldn’t risk doing anything to her in front of other people. It had taken a lot of convincing and compromising on her part, but Sam was finally willing to let her out of his sight.

However she would need to be with him or one of the pack when she went to and from work. Lucifer’s pack wouldn’t try anything in the hotel, but there were plenty of places to grab her in between; that was one thing she agreed with. She was also okay with them setting up their phones to track each other. That way if he didn’t answer instantly she would know if Sam was actually in danger or if he was out hunting.

With their new safety measures figured out Nola headed to work. She was cleaned up, dressed in her own clothes, and her new mark was covered. Other wolves would be able to smell it, but humans wouldn’t know it was there and that was best. They didn’t need to know werewolves existed. Walking into the hotel lobby Nola had a small skip in her step. She was happy...more than happy with Sam, she felt good physically, and she was going back to work.

Donny spotted Nola and came rushing over to her. The normally calm man hugged her tightly and looked her over. “Thank heavens you’re alright. I was so worried. I thought you would turn up on the evening news or something as some body.”

“What? Donny what are you talking about? I told you I was taking a short vacation.” That had been the excuse that Nola gave to cover up her disappearance after Sam had rescued her.

He snorted. “That’s what you said, but I wasn’t sure. That creepy guy showed up and then you left. Not long after your sexy boy toy comes in here looking all kinds of flustered and nervous. He ran out of here faster than anyone I’ve ever seen when I told him you were gone. Then you call and tell me you’re taking an extended vacation and you sounded so nervous. I tried calling after that to check on you, but you didn’t answer. I thought the call you made had been forced and you were in danger. I called the cops, but they said there was nothing they could do.”

“You called the cops?” Her eyes widened. If Donny had called the cops that could mean danger for the pack.

He nodded. “Yeah. Fat lot of good it did,” he grumbled. “Only one that seemed to care was some guy that showed up this morning. Said he was FBI or something.”

Nola frowned. “FBI?” That sounded fishy to her, but until she knew more she decided not to worry too much about it. Perhaps it was someone visiting the area and had somehow caught wind about her not being at work.

Nola was sitting down to a small, but healthy lunch in the hotel dining area when she spotted a man walking toward her. The dark skinned man was dressed casually, had a small goatee, and an almost shaved head. He didn’t seem threatening in the way he was walking, but his smile and the gleam in his eyes told her different. After what she had suffered at the hands of Lucifer, Nola had learned to pick up on the small things. Things most people might miss.

“Hi there. I was hoping we could talk.” He took a seat across from her without even asking if she was alright with company. “I’m Gordon. Your friend said you went missing and he was worried about you.”

“Donny exaggerated things. I wasn’t missing. Some creep showed up and it freaked me out. I decided to take some time to myself is all.” She knew she had to tread carefully while talking to this man.

He leaned back and eyed her curiously. There was something in his gaze that said he knew more than he was saying. “So your boyfriend didn’t show up here seemingly worried out of his mind?”

She sighed. “He did. I had texted him about the creep and then went home. My boyfriend has lost people and so he tends to worry more than he should about my safety. He came and got me. To ease both our minds I spent some time with him.”

“I see. So you went home and that was it? You decided to take a vacation and only come back when you were past what had happened?”

“That’s right. Nothing else happened.”

“Can you explain why you sounded pained and scared on the phone?”

She nodded. “I was scared. That man had showed up, acted like he knew who I was and said some very upsetting things. As for being pained I had ran home. I was out of breath and had stumbled. Ask Donny, I’m a bit of a klutz sometimes. I stubbed my toe and hurt my wrist when I feel. That’s all.”

Gordon made a small noise as he studied her. It made Nola’s skin crawl and she thought he was seeing through what she said. She had never been the most proficient liar. Yet she knew she had to lie. This man was in no way FBI. She knew that the moment she laid eyes on him.

“If you have no more questions then I’d like to get back to my lunch.” She pointed to her grilled chicken Caesar salad, and tomato and basil soup.

He stood and began to walk away. Pausing, he looked back at her. “Tell me...does your boyfriend change when the moon is full?”

She frowned. “What kind of crazy question is that? Of course he doesn’t.” His question was enough to tell her what he really was and she hoped her nervousness hadn’t leaked into her voice. If it had it would give away her lies.

He gave a knowing smirk. “It’s not so crazy, but thank you for your time.” As he turned away once more, Nola caught his wicked grin and the flash of darkness in his eyes. Suddenly she didn’t have much of an appetite.

***

Likes don’t spread my work! Please reblog and leave a comment if you enjoyed this! I love hearing from you guys and knowing what you think and hope to see!

[politics-notmything]

I can't pretend that it's okay when it's not. (Part II)

This is Part II in the series. Reading Part I is recommended, let me know if you enjoyed and if you want more! Love you all!

TW- bad language, talk about rape and religion, talk about abortion. (let me know if there’s anything else I should add.)

Anne woke up with Parr beside her. What did she do to deserve her? Cathy's leg was dangling over the bed and her laptop was nearly falling off. Anne grabbed the laptop and was craving some Netflix. (When their relationship started becoming serious Cathy said that there should be no secrets between them and Anne happily told Cathy her password and figured she could do anything secret like plan an engagement on Kitty's MacBook.)

She punched into her girlfriend's passcode and the screen revealed a small word document. Pinterest was open beside it and the search was titled 'Baby rooms.' Anne diverted her eyes to the word document beside the tab. Each page was colour coded, pastel green, pastel blue, pastel yellow, pastel pink. Anne realised that Cathy had been getting inspiration for the baby's room. Anne closed the laptop slowly and smiled at her sleeping girlfriend, she looked so peaceful.

"Where have you been all my life?" Anne muttered before wrapping an arm around her girlfriend and snuggling down beside her.

"Babe? Annie? Wake up, baby." Cathy tapped on Anne's arm as she opened her eyes with a moan. "Anna's making pancakes, she wants everyone down to see her land the flip," Cathy explained. Anne closed her eyes again and rolled onto her back,

'I don't want to." She moaned.

"Cathy rolled her eyes and got into bed with her, "Let me rephrase that." She wriggled her arm around Anne's shoulder and pulled her in tightly, "Both of you need to get up." Cathy placed a hand on Anne's stomach and Anne snuggled into Cathy's chest.

"I don't know what to do." She mumbled so only Cathy could hear, "I want to keep it, I really do but I feel like I can't. It isn't really mine and it isn't ours. we still need to tell everyone and I don't think I can face that." Anne confessed not looking Cathy in the eyes,

"Annie, im not going to lie to you, this is going to be hard and im going to help you get through this, every second of it  and anyone who says you were wrong I will kill them." Cathy defended and Anne buried her head into Cathy's shoulder for support and comfort.

She felt safe in Cathy's arms with her warm breaths against the back of her pale neck,"This is why I want to marry you." Anne yawned before snuggling back up to Cathy to sleep again.

Marry? She wants to marry me? Cathy was shocked, Anne Boleyn actually wants to be my wife? A small snore came from Anne's pale pink lips that Cathy had found comfort in so often and she arose from the bed. She walked softly over to her cabinet being careful where she stepped and opened the top drawer. She picked up a pair of fluffy cyan socks and shook them so a small black box with a green trim fell into her hand. She placed the socks back into the drawer and opened the box, taking out a beautiful ring. The ring was solid 14K yellow gold with an assorted pattern of emerald and diamond.

It sparkled in the light and Cathy couldn't help but awe at its beauty. It was wonderous, the way it shone in the light, the 6 emerald gems reminded her of Anne and that's why she bought it.

Two weeks from now, Jane had booked a trip for them to all go to Disneyland in Orlando and Anne had always romanced about kissing Cathy under cinderella's castle and that's where Cathy is going to propose. It would start as normal, Anne would drag Cathy towards the photographer, scan their cards and ask for 100 photos and she wouldn't care about the price. Then, halfway through the photoshoot, Cathy would pull the ring from her pocket and Anne would be too busy posing to know what was going on. Cathy would get down on one knee and-

"I swear to our lord and saviour Jesus Christ! You two are up here and the-" Aragon stopped when she saw Anne sleeping soundly and Cathy holding the ring. Her tone softened, "Shit, im so sorry, that could've really backfired!” Aragon apologised before walking over Cathy holding the ring. "So, your actually gonna do it?"

"Yea, when we go to Disneyland." Cathy gulped and looked at the other Catherine for support.

"If you looking at me for confirmation-"

"Well, yes." Cathy interjected, "Your Catholic, isn't this whole thing against your religion? It might also mess up our relationships with the other queens and I don't want that." Cathy explained before putting the ring back in it's bok and then back in the sock.

"Look, im not going to judge or stop you. I've seen you two together sometimes and the bond you two have is unbreakable! I'm not gonna stop true love." Aragon then continued, "it was only a matter of time anyway. People have been putting bets on you two."

"wait, what?"

"Oh yea, Kitty bet me 10 that Anne was gonna propose first, I countered that in saying Anne wouldn't be ready and you would make the first move. Jane told us to stop arguing and that you'll do it in your own time and Cleves said that you're both desperately in love and will probably end up proposing at the same time anyway." Aragon explained and Cathy couldn't help but laugh at the statement and then letting the queen continue, "Like I said, people are betting, it's only a matter of time! You two are made for each other and nothing should keep you apart."

"Thank you, Catherine." Cathy enveloped her in a hug as the smell of pancakes crept through the door.

"I'll let you wake the gremlin up. I hate dealing with a tired Anne." Aragon gave Cathy one last supportive smile and left the room.

"Okay sleeping beauty!' Cathy walked over to the bed and gave Anne a little peck on the nose, "It's time to wake up, for real this time!"

Cathy held Anne's hand as they walked down the stairs,

"I think I'm gonna tell them, Cathy, they need to know," Anne explained

"I'm not going to stop you, Annie, you should know that by now, I'm with you all the way!" Cathy rubbed circles on the back on Anne's hand and she turned around to face her girlfriend.and

"Thank you,  babe' Anne said and Cathy could see it in her eyes as they interlocked their lips, she was genuinely grateful for everything and Cathy was going to keep it that way.

"I found them!" Anna's voice boomed in the hallway that leads to the kitchen,

"Honestly! It's been 2 hours since I knocked on your door this morning Anne, you need to eat!" Jane fused,

"She's probably already eaten." Cleves mocked and 'not-so-subtly winked at Parr who still had her hands-on Anne's waist.

"I hate you Cleves," Cathy remarked before lading Anne to her seat. Cathy could feel Anne's pulse racing and helped her sit down onto a chair for fear that she might fall, Kitty (who knew about Anne's 'big secret') gave her a reassuring smile from across the table. She'd been in Anne's position before. She’d also had her life and freedom taken away by a man who just wanted to use her for her body, to please only himself and having known what that felt like, Kitty would be there for her cousin without a second thought. 

Cathy soon arrived back with two plates, one with 3 pancakes for herself and another plate of 6 for Anne all covered in Nutella and cream, just how she likes them. Anne thanked Cathy with a kiss on the cheek and picked up her fork before dropping it back onto the table. The queens looked up from their breakfast and Cathy put a warm hand on Anne's thy.

'We have something to tell you all." Anne mumbled.

"Annie. I can say it, it's fine." Cathy whispered in her ear,

"thank you." Anne said loud enough for only Cathy to hear.

"Last night, I found out something very important about my girlfriend. And as a disclaimer, before we start if any of you give her any kind of shit for it I will personally murder and then Tumblr shame you all. Understand?" Cathy stood up and put a defensive hand on Anne's shoulder as the queens nodded.

"why Cathy whats happened?' jane interrupted.

"Anne was-"

"Anne is pregnant." Kitty confessed and her quick comment was met with speechless faces and a look of death from Catherine, "I'm sorry Cathy but I couldn't keep lying to you all. I heard Anne crying a few weeks ago and sand brought her a pregnancy test. She needed support and I was there, she hadn't even told Parr at that point!"

The queens stayed silent as to process the information

"Whos the father then?" Cleves asked upfront.

"I don't know," Anne answered to have confused looks thrown her way.

"Like she said, we don't know. He took advantage of her on the street when she was walking back from the theatre." Cathy explained to the now shocked but somewhat understanding queens.

"Are you gonna keep it?" Cleves continued to push Anne for answers.

"Who cares what she does with it!" Aragon shouted, "You have to take this to court, the man has to be punished!"

"I don't know who he is." Anne shrank into her chair

"Fuck that! You've been raped, Anne!" Aragon shouted and Anne flinched at the word, " Christ! That's worse than being beheaded, Anne!"

One of Anne's problems with the situation was that she'd been the vulnerable one. She hated being overpowered or beaten. She was a strong and powerful woman and this thing had broken her into thousands of pieces.

"Catherine!" Jane hushed.

"No! I may not like you but this is bullshit!"

"Aragon-" Kitty tried to reason but the older Catherine continued,

"You've been put through a lot Anne but at least Henry got consent! We need to know these things! How could you be so fucking stupid?" Aragon stood up and slammed her hands on the table,

"It wasn't her fault!" Cathy defended. "Do you think she chose this? Do you think she wanted this?" Aragon moved back a little, "or does your 'bible' say it's okay to use women like that-"

"I'm going to abort it!" Anne spoke up,

"What?" The two said in unison.

"I'm going to abort the baby. It's not really mine but this doesn't mean I don't want to have kids." Anne glanced at Cathy and she smiled,

"If it's what you want." Cathy accepted and Aragon sat down with a huff.

"I'll call the hospital," Jane suggested. "I don't think we'll be going out today," she looked at Kitty, "can you and Anna go put on a film?" Kitty nodded and dragged Cleves out to the living room with a giggle! "Come join us when you're ready." Jane addressed the final 3.

Once Jane had left the air transformed into an uncomfortable silence. Cathy sat back down and wrapped an arm around Anne. Anne snuggled back into Cathy and when she hummed, Aragon suddenly realised. Cathy was going to propose to Anne. The two had bonded so strongly over their traumatic pasts to become this force of nature that's stronger than the universe. This combination of love and happiness that they found in each other is why they can get through this without a court case and will be able to put their pasts behind them, marry and have a family with children of their own that will bring them so much happiness and the cycle will carry on. They can get through this, who was Aragon to say they couldn't.

"I'm sorry." She said, "it's your choice and you two can overcome this, you've done it before." Aragon smiled at the queens, Anne whispered a small "thank you." and she left the two alone together.

[morgana-ren]

Hi, may i ask for advice? I know the difference between real life and fiction. that being said.. sometimes i wanna fuck bad guys / villians but i feel bad about it? Like i feel wrong? Guilty? But theyre not real and lusting after shigaraki is diff than Ted Bundy (who i dont list after btw). Do you have any tips on how to get rid of this weird guilty feeling i have? Its dumb i know and im sorry if this bothers you. 😖

Of course you’re not bothering me! Please feel free to ask me anything at any time!! I promise you’re never bothering me!

At first, I felt really guilty too, honestly. I’ve been attracted to the bad guys for as long as I can remember. One of my first crushes was frickin’ Ruber from Quest for Camelot. Even as I kid, I remember getting together with other people and feeling really anxious and shy and lying about who my favorite characters were because I felt like it would outcast me or they might think I was weird. I knew who I was rationally supposed to like. The good guys and girls who courageously saved the day and smote the villain, just like everyone else. I just… didn’t.

 But when I got older, I realized there was a massive, massive difference between real life horrible people (Ted Bundy, serial killers, awful people who hurt real, living beings) and villains in shows, books, movies, etc. There are terrible people who hurt breathing folk, and loving fictional villains is absolutely NOT condoning that. You’re not condoning abuse, violence, rape or murder. Think of fiction as a safe outlet for all of your fantasies. It’s okay to like “taboo” things! 

This is a safe haven where you should be allowed to explore every part of yourself! Liking villains is nothing to be ashamed of! There’s multiple reasons one might lust after the bad guy. Sometimes, they’re just more interesting, and they appeal a little more to our wild side. Other times, we see traits in ourselves that we share with a villain and it’s just a natural connection (think a villain who has a valid reason for wanting to bring down society and maybe you share some of those reasons, but also understand that realistically it could never quite work. Or maybe they’re a recluse who shuts out everyone and becomes bitter.) Sometimes, it’s just a psychological reason that takes deeper understanding to explore (like Strade! Do I want to be kidnapped, tortured and murdered? NO! Am I super attracted to Strade anyway even though he’s not my physical type? YES.) 

Maybe it’s purely physical, and the villain is just hot as hell!  If it’s a kink? A kink is a kink, babe! And it’s totally okay! I’ve written rapey fics, but that doesn’t mean I actually want to be raped. It’s just a kink! Fantasy!

Companies build off a similar urge all the time! Plague Inc for example (If you’ve never played it, it’s just a game where you literally try and build the perfect illness to eradicate humanity.) Do the players ACTUALLY want to kill everyone? NO! It’s just fun and entertainment! Postal II? It’s just a fun little stress reliever game with dark humor! 

Before I get into a full on tirade (lmao I already did), don’t ever be ashamed of liking someone like Shigaraki or any other villain. I like Deku, I think he’s a good protagonist. I enjoy Shoto, I think he’s an interesting person. But I just enjoy them. I like their stories. Shigaraki? I find him sexy as hell. I love that man, and I love his chapped lips, and I love his entire being.

Liking villains doesn’t make you a villain!

You don’t have to justify yourself to anyone, hon! Just have fun! In fiction, it’s a safe place to explore and learn yourself! If that means you like villains, you can either accept it or explore it and maybe learn why! Either way, it’s not a negative thing at all! It’s completely okay! Please don’t beat yourself up or feel guilty! It’s completely okay! Attraction doesn’t always need justification! Sometimes, it’s just monkey brain going “hmmmmg…. bad man….. sexy……” 

Anyway, I hope this helped! If not, please feel free to message me again! I’ll answer any questions you have!

[soliloquyangel]

bpd rage below i fucking guess

i fucking hate you and i fucking hate your boyfriend i hope that the “healthiest relationship you’ve ever been in” is wonderful but that you always feel like it’s missing something i hope you feel exactly the same way i did when we were together except you don’t have to worry about fucking sarah who you liked better than me and if you liked her so goddamn much why didn’t you just date her instead of me because she wasn’t a “pussy” or a “bitch” or a “slut” and she could have sex and she could do drugs and she could smoke cigarettes and she could fight back or you could be with fucking michael because he was your favorite or any of the several other people you’ve gone out with but no you needed me for emotional security and easy sex because i am easy to bend and mold into what you want so i could be your mommy and i could say dirty nasty awful things to get you off without thinking about myself or saying stop because i can suffer through the flashbacks so you wouldn’t leave but you did you say you love me but you’re with your stupid fucking boyfriend who doesn’t care about your mental illness and won’t help you but it’s the best relationship you’ve ever been in yeah right fuck you why don’t you just fight me like you’ve gotten close to doing i know i make you angry you told me i can see it in how you talk to me if im not giving you emotional security or making you cum like i know i can i am useless to you that’s why you went out with fucking michael because i wasn’t enough for you i wasn’t actually attractive you didn’t actually want to fuck me because you still wanted sarah or any of the other girls you never got over you actually wanted him but he didn’t do emotional security and sex wasn’t all about you but i fucking coddled you i protected you and sheltered you and kept you safe and i stayed with you and what did you do for me you told me i deserved for get raped and abused and were emotionally unavailable and then told me about all your other loves and did so many drugs and after you’ve been raped and abused i thought you would be understanding and not fuckinf say that but im not sure you ever thought of me as a person i was just your fucktoy that you could abuse i can take all your anger and listen to how much you love everybody else because i wasn’t good enough for you and i never will be you ruined me you ruined me you’re just like them you took what you wanted out of me and discarded the rest including my heart people like you prey on soft gentle girls and i am one and you ate it up i have given you so much of me and im angry i showed you pictures of my body and im angry you sent me a video of you masturbating even though you knew it may have been too much for me and it’s nice that you trusted me but you didn’t think about how it would’ve made me feel you wanted to help me handle things and to do that you have to be gentle you have to be the one to take control and top and dominate to show me that it’s okay and normal and safe and that you love me but no you just wanted me to please you and then to shut up and not have any problems ever i have always been nothing more than your keeper i tried so hard to be hot and ready and enough for you but you always found someone else and you cry that i abandoned you when i tried to do anything positive for myself im sorry for ever trying to think about anyone other than you i should’ve just let you rape and hit and abuse me like you wanted you didn’t care about me or making me feel human you never loved me you don’t even know what love is and i know you’re too afraid to talk to me about any of this you’re just going to read it and internalize it because i know you and i know you’re afraid and i know you’re weak inside you’re close to breaking and you ruined me and you feel no remorse you wish you had done it first but now you can move on and ruin your new “healthy” relationship with your new perfect boyfriend and enjoy it before he makes a tiny mistake and you cut him off and treat him terrible for it fuck you you ruined me you ruined me you ruined me you ruined me

[crimsonredemption]

ok so im not 18 yet and new on tumblr. I see all these posts and mentions that people under 18 aren't allowed and I kinda feel left out? I dont get it

okay first things first, I’m gonna have to ask you to not follow me because I post sexual content regularly. However, I’m gonna tell you a few things about it, even though it’s not up for discussion on my part

The people on here ask you to leave for your own good. It has absolutely nothing to do with wanting to exclude you, or make you feel bad about your age. 

It’s not about not wanting YOU personally here, it’s about not accidentally exposing you to sexual content that could in any way harm or desensitize you to the matter. 

Additionally, everyone can decide how to run their own blog. If I say I don’t like to have minors on my blog, that is absolutely within my right. 

I’m honestly not too sure about legal matters because I’m not educated enough about American law enforcement regarding exposing sexual content to minors, but I’m sure others are and I would be happy if someone who knows more could further elaborate on the matter. 

You might think you have sex figured out, maybe it’s nothing new to you. That’s fine if it’s fine for you. But trust me on this, we all thought we got it all figured out at this age; when in reality that is often not the case. People underestimate the influence an adult can have on a minor, not just physically but emotionally. My views and opinions might creep up on you, things I find okay and enjoy might be way too extreme for you. In a very passive way, I might be shaping your views and understanding of sex and consent. 

But all these things happen without my knowing. I don’t know if you’re 18 or not. I don’t know if what I wrote changed or shaped your views on stuff. Just imagine someone engaging in things they weren’t really sure about before, only because I made it seem nice in my prompt or fic.  :( 

[TW:RAPE] On a very personal note, I can share with you something that happened to me when I was younger. When I was 14/15 I was raped by an 35 years old man. He was my first everything, even my first kiss actually. It wasn’t violent, he didn’t use any physical force on me. What he did was taking his time sweet talking to me, complimenting me. Telling me how very mature and smart I was for my age, let alone how attractive. He did that for months, making me think it was absolutely normal and fun to talk about sex with him. He told me about his sex life in great detail, even sharing pictures. I didn’t feel manipulated at all, I thought he really felt that way about me and it took me years to even realize that I was raped by someone who was more than twice my age. He used his charisma to exploit my lack of experience, I was just inferior on all levels really.

I hope you now got a glimpse of why I and many others do not feel good sharing sexual content with minors. 

Be safe 💕