#but emotionally i am having a temper tantrum

[zjofierose]

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[writerunnamed]

note: This is something I've wanted to write for a while but I am well aware that not everyone will be into it. There are a few stories I want to tell that aren't the norm so I decided to start this nameless blog to tell them. I am not tagging anyone, if you find it then you find it. xo Joel(stepdad), significant age gap, female reader. 18+ legal, reader is 20 (warnings: pov sex, Joel spits on the 😸, boobie play, really inappropriate dirty talk, an unused sex toy [will make an appearance in another chapter], female masturbation, daddy kink, unfit parent) 5.6k word count

He takes up so much space, and it wasn’t just physically. He took up space emotionally, mentally. Mentally most of all. Your thoughts always drifted back to him. Cyclical. An elliptical pattern making him the top of every list you’d go through in your head. He seemed to know it too, in a stoic, quiet, largely unsettling way. Older, attractive men tended to do that. 

It started during that in-between time, when summer, losing your job, and having to move back home pushed you to figure out what the fuck you actually wanted to do with your life seemed to come together like the planets aligning. The precipice of a turning point, a ticking clock counting down the days until your childhood bedroom would be turned into a gym, or an office, or a guest bedroom. The lukewarm welcome from your mother would ice over and you’d really have to get your shit together. 

Your mother was what people who didn’t know her would call ‘a free spirit’, what you called her, was a fucking mess. 

Your earliest memories consist of having to remind her to buy milk or to pay the bill because the electricity had turned off while watching cartoons in front of the tiny, living room tv. You’d had to remind her, in not so many words, that she was the mother, and you were the child. 

To your friends, she was the cool mom. The party mom. Your house was the place to be because she didn’t ask questions, she left her cigarettes unattended and didn’t mind if a few went missing. She kept the bar cart stocked, even if there was nothing but flies in the cupboard and nothing but half-empty condiment bottles in the fridge. Your friends loved it. 

She flirted with the boys your age, she gave sex tips to the girls. 

You smiled when they congratulated you on having the cool mom, and when they all went home, you retreated and pretended to be happy. 

Joel settled her down. Met her in a bar and moved in quick. He came into the picture when you were fifteen and you were almost sure he’d be just like the rest of the lovers she’d taken over the years. You’d given the whole thing six months. Half a year for him to see what a fucking disaster she was. Six months to be a fucking creep, to cheat or get cheated on. 

The only differences you could clock at first were that he was self-employed, and marginally better looking than his predecessors.

He was firmer though, less malleable than the others she’d brought around, he seemed immune to her charms and that only inflamed her. It made her desperate for his approval and his attention. She would throw a tantrum, or play one of her mind games but he’d never rise to her bait. He was patient for the most part, until he hit his breaking point and his temper reared its head. A temper only she seemed to bring out in him. 

To you, it was pathetic. 

He didn’t try with you though, there was no flattery or strong hand, only a silent respect. In a sense, he treated you as the adult, and her as the child. It worked for you, if he’d expected you to call him dad he would have been laughed at mercilessly and he seemed to know this. 

The disturbing part was his respect and his healthy avoidance of you worked its own kind of magic. It made him an enigma, made you curious as to what he got out of the whole thing. A home, sure. A woman who was obsessed with him, yes. Sex–yes. You heard it enough for it to turn your stomach. By the sounds of it, he knew what he was doing.

The thought sickened the healthy part of your brain. The other part though, the part flooding your body with hormones, making it come to life with curiously intense sexual feelings, that part wanted to know what it was he was so good at. How could he pull those sounds out of anyone? It was easier to imagine him with some faceless woman. 

It was shameful to imagine yourself. 

The thought–although enough to fuel a desperate journey of self-exploration–always filled you with an insurmountable guilt. 

For those first few years you could barely look at him. Your mother took it as a healthy dose of teenage rebellion. That only aggravated you more. She never asked questions, never dug to see what the cause of your obvious distaste for her partner was about and so again, you retreated. He, however, kept to the outs of your path. He followed your lead, he let you control any and every part of all of your interactions. He didn’t ask questions. He kept the lights on. He kept the fridge full. 

He burrowed his way in, whether you liked it or not. 

When you turned eighteen, you moved out. He helped, did his ‘fatherly’ duties and moved you into the apartment, he urged your mother to take you on an extensive grocery trip, spoke to your landlord about the safety of the building. You supposed you should have been grateful, you should have said thank you, given him some sort of acknowledgement that you appreciated his help but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Instead you said your mumbling goodbyes, and promptly closed the door on them. Neither of them complained. 

The euphoria of venturing out on your own had lost its shine depressingly quick. A string of chronically unserious boyfriends came and went, the rent climbed higher than you could keep up with, and while already living paycheck to paycheck, you lost your job. Your cellphone had taken the brunt of your frustration at having to call your mother, begging her to let you come back home while you got back on your feet a little more than two years after you’d left. 

Your teeth gnawed at your lips, your fingernails dug into the skin around your cuticles in the attempt to keep your voice sweet and pleading, in the end it was his voice that you’d heard in the background, telling–no, commanding her to say yes. That he would be your champion twisted at your insides. Maybe a small, healthy part of you hoped he’d put up a fight, tell you that you were too old to be coming back home and that you had to figure it out on your own like an adult. 

A healthy part of you hoped that he’d save you again, only from yourself. Hanging up with a heavy, resigned sigh, you set about starting the trek home, ignoring the swirling mess of annoyance, confusion, and perverse glee in your stomach. 

-

The first few days were spent in a depressive episode, a seemingly inescapable loop of sleeping in late, leaving your room only when the house was empty to raid the kitchen for something to eat, scrolling mindlessly–blindly–on your phone and then staying up way too late only to do it all over again. 

They didn’t bother you, but if the annoyed sighs and narrowed eyes from your mother were anything to go by, the talk was coming soon. After the third day of the cycle, you circumvent it and wake up early-ish to shower and dress in something other than ratty old sweats long forgotten by an ex you couldn’t quite remember. 

You came down to find Joel sitting at the kitchen table. His eyes tracked the lines of you, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. 

Your heart leapt. He should have been at work by now. 

“Good morning.” It came out croaky, your voice almost reluctant to come out. 

“Mornin’.” His hair was slicked back, the gray almost sparkling in the golden light. You fiddled with the hem of your shirt. His eyes were so intense, you found yourself stuck in place, like a deer in headlights and that ever present, deep-seeded anger reared its head. It was irrational that he should frustrate you so much with his calm presence. 

“Coffee’s fresh, if you want some.” He jut his chin out to the pot, lowering his eyes to his paper once more. Once his gaze had shifted, you found you could breathe again. You mumbled a thanks and moved to pour yourself a cup, thankful, if unsure why, to focus on something concrete instead of abstract self-reflection.

“Your mama’s gon’ be late tonight. I thought I could pick up a pizza on the way home.” He says it offhand and again, your heart races. 

“Whatever.” You scrunch your face up in annoyance, it sounded like such a bullshit, teen response. He doesn’t comment on it, and that somehow makes it worse. You beat yourself about it as you root around in the fridge for the milk. The cereal you liked was in the top cupboard, and you’re not quite tall enough to reach it. 

You heard his chair scoot back and then suddenly he’s there, beside you, pressed up tight. You follow the long line of his throat as he stares up, reaching the box with ease while one big, warm hand lands on your lower back. He smells like the laundry detergent your mother insists on buying mixed with something else. Manly, smoky, with coffee laced through. Your cunt clenches nonconsensually as he stands there and stares down at you, his whole front pressed against your side, his hand still holding your lower back. Your mouth hangs open, stupidly, and he raises an eyebrow again forcing something to kickstart deep in your gut. 

“You okay there babygirl?” The endearment feels unwholesome.

It triggers something strange, strengthening the underlying conflict for him. There’s a lilt in his tone you don’t like, maybe because deep down you like it too much. Maybe you don’t want to admit that, or analyze anything about what the fuck is happening in your body. In your psyche. 

“Yeah.” You step out of his bubble, barely managing not to trip over yourself in your haste to get away and put a healthy distance between you. 

“Yes. Thank you.” You take a deep breath, pressing your lips together tight in what you hope to God is a neutral expression. 

He lets out a bemused huff through his nose, a mischief in his eyes shining out at you that you’ve never seen directed at you. You’ve seen it used on your mom. You’ve seen her go giggly and flirty whenever he looked at her like that. A half-formed escape plan starts to form but he saves you from the need, he puts his things in the dishwasher, and nods his head in goodbye. 

You practically hold your breath until you hear his truck rumble out of the driveway, and down the street. 

-

You manage to avoid him for a few days, staying out late catching up with friends, or feigning a need for rest. You’ve convinced your mother that your days are now spent job hunting, and for the most part they are. You leave in the morning, avoiding any and all contact and you get home late, creeping up the stairs much like you did in your teens even though you’d really never needed to. Your mother never enforced a curfew, and when Joel joined the picture, he didn’t pry. 

The luck didn’t last though, you got over-confident. He was sprawled out on the sofa, up uncharacteristically late one night when you padded through the house. 

“You’re up late.” You quickly check the accusatory tone, “Don’t you have to get up early?” Better, it comes out more concerned than annoyed and he nods. He wore a threadbare t-shirt, the fabric of it having been through the wash too many times to keep its shape. Light, gray sweats were stretched almost obscenely tight over his spread thighs, pooling at his crotch from being shoved up by the couch. 

“Couldn’t sleep. Come sit, we can watch some tv.” He pats the seat next to him and despite the deep desire to retreat into the Joel-free haven of your bedroom, you cannot seem to disobey him. 

You settle beside him on the couch, a little further away than was necessary. He chuckles softly. 

“I ain’t gonna bite you, girl. Not unless you ask nicely.” 

You pretend you don’t hear it, choosing instead to compartmentalize whatever game he’s playing and stare at the screen. He flips through the channels, settling on one thing for a few minutes before moving to something else until he finds a movie that’s already close to midway. There’s an electricity in the air, something about him galvanizing the space between you, charging it enough to make the hairs on your arms stand on end. You frown to yourself, barely paying attention while fighting an increasingly confusing mental battle. Why is it so hard to be around him? Why does he inspire such scorn? Is it scorn at all?

You rub at your eyes, scrubbing your hands down your face in a feeble attempt to wipe the slate clean. 

He’s just a man, a man your mother had chosen and for better or worse they seem to work. She is happy with him and he is seemingly happy with her, why then is it so hard to accept him for what he is? Something slithers around in your brain, something that laughs darkly, something pulsing through the network of thoughts and ideas that threatens to crack open your subconscious and throw it right in your face. 

“Well now, ain’t that somethin’?” You pull your hands away from your face to see a very explicit scene playing out on the screen. Heat floods every inch of your body. 

“Almost looks like she’s enjoyin’ herself.” He leaves it on, and you feel stuck, your body betraying you yet again to see the way the woman on screen moans wantonly while under a very handsome man. You let out a non-committal sound, teetering on the edge of madness. You scold yourself, you are an adult, an adult that has had sex before and this isn’t even real. 

“Looks like fake bullshit to me.” The strength in your voice lends credence to the illusion that you aren’t affected. He laughs, calm and completely at ease and that only pulls the anger to the forefront again. 

“They can’t show the real stuff on these channels. If it were real, he’d be doin’ what she needs.” 

“And what’s that?” It comes out before you can stop it. 

“Well,” He smiles to himself, winning a duel you hadn’t even known you were fighting. 

“If it were real, he’d be pressin’ on her clit, he’d be makin’ sure she felt every inch of him and make her take his cock like a good girl.” You let out a heavy breath, half shocked, half grateful it wasn’t a whimper. 

Warning bells go off in your head, just as a heartbeat starts in your cunt because you can see it. You can see him. His face twisted up in pleasure but cocky, his hips moving, his thumb dipped into your mouth and then swirling around your clit. He smiles at catching you looking at his hands and you want to yell at him. You want to smack him across the face and kick him in the balls for saying something like that to you, his partner's daughter, but you don’t. 

Your body almost catapults you out of your seat. Barely unintelligible words come out, something about needing sleep, about being tired and then you hightailed it out of there like a bat out of hell. 

The shower was cold enough to make your teeth chatter, but it did nothing to cool the heat blooming in your core and it was with a terrifying desperation that you ground against your fingers. The slick pooling at the mouth of your pussy was enough to feel even with the water washing everything away except your shame. 

You bit your tongue to keep from moaning out the taboo and entirely inappropriate name you were dying to say out loud. His firm thighs spread on that couch filled your mind, the calloused, work-roughened hands you could practically feel on your hips, on your thighs. You could feel them holding and spreading your legs open so he could make you make those same noises you’d heard over the years. Make you take it like a good girl, his good girl. 

You came with a shudder, sagging against the chilly tile. You warmed the water with a sigh, disappointed and ashamed with yourself, trying, and failing, to put the whole thing out of your mind. 

-

You doubled down on avoiding him after that. 

Your mother worked most of the time but when she was home, things were easier. He reverted to the healthy avoidance, the proverbial disinterest that she didn’t seem to have a problem with. You still heard them some nights, the bed creaking, throaty cries, deep grunts but now they haunted you in a different way. Now you heard his words on that couch and couldn’t help but picture all manner of unsavory things that both disgusted and thrilled you. 

Being unemployed didn’t help. There was nothing to keep you out of the house most of the day, and there were only so many places that would accept you looking for a job in person. 

There was only so much time you could spend with friends too, they had their own lives and jobs and relationships. Too busy to save you from unwanted free time. 

Old habits resurface, and you retreat within yourself while pushing yourself harder. A job would fix things enough to help, you could save up enough money to leave for good and take yourself out of the equation. 

-

The powers that be momentarily take pity on you, and after what seems like a lifetime's worth of job hunting you blessedly get a call back. It’s a part time job, but at this point beggars can’t exactly be choosers. It’s a steady, if insufficient source of income that hadn’t been available to you before. Determined, you buckle down, you channel every guidance counselor you’ve ever had and ace the fuck out of that interview.

It’s not taxing work, but you put your head down and focus with the hope that if you worked hard enough, if you made a good enough impression, made yourself indispensable they’d throw you enough shifts to make up a full time job. 

It helps. Time spent away from the house, from your mothers dried up welcome, from Joel altogether genuinely helps. You feel a bit lighter, less guilty, less prone to imagine the unimaginable. You find comfort in the absence of self-imposed temptation. There is peace in the mindless work, in the life outside of the house that no longer feels like a home. 

It's a double edged sword though, because at the end of every shift, the luck–the peace–runs out. If being at work and out of the house is a respite, returning home only thickens the tension. Time spent outside the house only sharpens the discomfort, clarifies the glaring wrongness of it all when you enter it at the end of the day. What it all is, you won’t name. That way madness lies. Issue is, with every interaction, with every chance encounter in the hallway, or living room, every second spent with him in the kitchen watching his lips touch the rim of his mug the thing inside grows. Parts of him fill the corners of your mind. The curve of his shoulders filling out the flannel shirts he favors. The fullness of his bottom lip when he purses them, something he does while squinting at the paper that you’re almost sure he isn’t aware of. His neck, his hands, the dimple in his cheek when he laughs at something really funny. 

These things jump out, innocent as they may be, but other not so innocent things start to creep in. The bulge in his jeans is a mental mine, it lies in wait and every so often when you think you’ve avoided it, it detonates and you catch yourself staring, both ashamed and so inappropriately curious it eats away at you like acid. 

What you needed was something to fill the emptiness, both emotionally and physically. So you did what any modern, adult woman would do; you bought a sex toy. 

Nothing too crazy, or expensive. After perusing the site for a while you finally settled on a plain, non-threatening dildo. Nothing too big, nothing noisy, just something to be able to focus on, something to use while imagining someone giving you what you need. You ignored that dark thing inside that hissed his name, shooed it away and ordered the package for express delivery. With your mom constantly working, and Joel keeping to himself you figured it wouldn’t be an issue. Neither of them would question a package addressed to you. 

You still aren’t sure whether or not you’d do it all over again had you known the Pandora’s box that little package would open. 

You all but rushed home after work. All day, you’d imagined the relief that toy would bring. You imagined yourself using it in the shower, steam swirling as you took your pleasure. You imagined yourself laying in bed in the safety of the dark, setting a towel down on your chair and riding it to your heart's content. 

Joel’s truck is in the driveway when you pull in, but it’s secondary to the excitement at the chance to sequester yourself with your new best friend and so when you walk into the house, you don’t give him much attention. Until he opens his mouth. 

“You got a package today babygirl. I put it on your bed.” He sits on his spot on the sofa, a funny little smile on his face. A bad feeling swells in your chest, and you look up the stairs before meeting his eyes again. 

“Thanks.” You drop your bag on the little bench near the front door, trying, and failing to keep the nervous feeling out of your voice. He nods, and you make your way up, stopping yourself from taking the stairs two at a time. 

Ice flows through your veins when you see the package is open. 

He’d opened your package, he knew what you’d bought. 

Blood pounds in your ears as you stand there, limbs cold and numb at the realization that he saw it. He saw it. He opened it, and he placed it here, on the very place you fantasized about using it. Sweat beaded on your brow, the bottom of your stomach fell out of your ass as you stood there, barely feeling the soft, worn carpet under your feet. 

“Little small, f’you ask me.” His voice at the mouth of your room made your head twist fast enough to hurt your neck. You hadn’t heard him follow you up the stairs, hadn’t heard him open your door and lean against the frame, arms crossed in haughty amusement. 

“Why would you open my package?” You clutched at it, as though he could forget what he’d seen if you held it tightly enough. 

“I didn’t open it on purpose, I’m expectin’ somethin’ and I didn’t read the name.” He pushes away from the door frame, making his way closer and it’s like the air thins as the space between you shrinks.

“I mean, I could tell you been frustrated, but this doesn’t seem like it’s gon’ help much.” He reaches out, and takes the package from you. You watch him do it, watch him, frozen as he plucks it from your hands and takes the toy out. 

“This all you can take?” He holds it, contemptuously–pityingly. 

You wanted to snatch it out of his hands, the dimming voice of reason urges you to push him out of your room and remind him that he needs to keep a healthy distance but you say nothing, you stand there, and watch him. He puts it all down on your dresser, before stepping a little closer, close enough for you to have to crane your neck up to look into his eyes. 

“No boyfriends around to give you what you want?” His hand comes up, the tips of his fingers sliding across the apple of your cheek, slipping down until his thumb pressed against the cushion of your bottom lip. 

“No one around to give you what you obviously need?” He steps a little closer, until your bodies meet. This is wrong, your mind screams it but your body is frozen under his eyes, under his touch. That part, the frozen part is cheering, it’s running victory laps as it floods your cunt with slick in preparation for something unholy. 

That same, writhing, traitorous thing whispers that this is your chance, the house is empty and your body obeys. You look your fill, you take in the curve of his nose and the furrow in his brow. His eyes are black as a crow's wing, lust-blown and completely focused on your parted lips and your shallow panting. 

Adrenaline spikes and you do something you cannot take back. You rise on your tip-toes and press your mouth to his. 

He hums into it, smiling and once again you get that feeling that you’d made the exact move he’d expected you to. A vague, but fleeting inkling that you were just a pawn on his chessboard. 

At any other time you would have stepped away and repented, ate yourself alive with guilt but his hands pulled you closer, his tongue swiped at the seam of your mouth and you opened up for him. That only made it all the more real, the taste of his tongue in your mouth, feeling his hands lower to hold onto your ass. 

The rational part of you shrinks down to nothing, and that other part, the wrong part–it swells and preens under his hands. He pulls away, and embarrassingly, you chase his mouth in a daze. 

“Oh honey, you’re just dyin’ for it aren’t you?” He herds you towards your tiny bed, the twin mattress that has been the stage for every taboo fantasy about this man, your stepfather. You shoo the word away with a shiver. 

“It’s wrong-” You almost whisper, but you don’t push him away, you let him lay you down in that bed and he laughs. 

“It is, isn't it?” He pulls at the hem of your shirt, you raise your arms for him and the picture of it is wrong, daddy taking off your clothes. The thought, the word,  should disgust you but it only pulls your hands to him. You join in, and pull his shirt up and off, biting your lip at the broadness of him. You take in each freckle, the sprinkling of hair on his chest, the dip of his throat calling out for your tongue like a siren. 

He presses his lips to yours again, licking into your mouth obscenely. Unseemly. 

“You been wantin’ this for a long time, haven’t you babygirl?” He pulls your bra off, and the shock of cold air hardens your nipples. He bites his lip to see it, unable to stop himself from flattening his tongue against a hardened bud. A sound you’ve never let yourself make out loud in this room fills the space between you and that slithering thing luxuriates. 

He moves, languidly, unhurried to the other breast and holds the plump of it in his big hand and sucks at the second bud, sucks as much of the peak as he can into his mouth, breathing through his nose while you slowly spiral into madness.

When he lets go, he presses a kiss to your nipple and his facial hair tickles your skin. 

He pulls your leggings off along with your underwear in one go and the reality of it all hits you when the air hits your soaked core. That’s when the urge to put a stop to it is the clearest, when he kneels between your legs and spreads them wide, stares at the place where he’s already filled a million times in your mind. The place that’s drenched at the mere thought of him. 

“Joel-” You start, but he pushes your legs up, folding you and then he lets a glob of spit fall from his mouth slowly, aiming it, a bullseye right on the lips of your cunt. It’s too much, too filthy and you let out a whimper. 

“I think you wanna call me somethin’ else right now.” He undoes his belt and his jeans, keeping his eyes on where his saliva slides down over the open mouth of your cunt, down towards your asshole. He pulls his cock out and part of you shatters. Your eyes flit to the toy sitting on your dresser, your eyes flit to the open door of your bedroom. 

“Don’t worry, your mama ain’t gonna be home for a while.” He smiles, conspiratorially. It's too real, it’s too hypnotic, seeing him there with his cock in his hand while your legs already ache from holding them up and open. He slides the blunt end of it through the mess he’s caused, through his spit and he groans at the sight of it. 

Your heart races so hard to feel him there, that you see the pulse of it in your vision. 

“Deep breath baby.” he warns before slipping inside the tight fist of your pussy, the size of him making you gasp. This is it, there’s no coming back from this and right now, with him seated deep, his groin pressed up tight and the tip of his cock kissing your womb you cannot even think of why you’d ever care.

This is where he's meant to be. This is where you need him. 

“Oh baby, that’s so good huh?” He thrusts shallowly, pulling out a little more than halfway before shoving his hips forward again. You don’t really know how to form words, you don’t know how to take in what’s happening. This is Joel, your step-dad, fucking you in the bed you grew up in. One hand sits heavy on your shin, holding it, the other slides up and holds onto your breast. 

“Look how fuckin’ wet this little pussy is for me,” he moans the words, “you like daddy fuckin’ you?” He thrusts harder and you moan despite the word hitting you in the stomach like a big drop on a rollercoaster. He shouldn’t say that, shouldn’t call himself that, not now. 

“No-” it doesn’t come out like you mean it to, it sounds wrong, like a caress. 

“No? But I think you do-” He leans forward, keeping his pace while pressing his chest to yours, his mouth all but lining up and despite your bullshit protest, you hitch your knees high on his ribs to make room because if he stopped you’d probably die. 

“I think you want me to be your daddy, don’t you baby, it’s okay, I want to be.” He speeds up and the sounds between your legs are so wet, so filthy. 

“You can say it, I want you to say it.” He holds himself up, his elbows caging in your skull and before you can complain or moan or cry he sticks his tongue down your throat again. Your hands finally join the fray and you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him tight to you. 

“Come on baby, say it for me, tell me how good daddy fucks you.” You moan, closing your eyes while your cunt floods him with wave after wave of slick, enough to drip down your ass and onto your bed, down his balls. Enough for it to soak the curls at the base of him. 

“Look at me when I’m fuckin’ you honey.” His hips speed up and it's hard now, his thrusts making your bounce, hitting a part of you that toy would never touch in a million years. 

You open your eyes, and look at him above you, sweat beading on his hairline. Never has he looked more fucking appealing than he does right then. The word is there, in your mouth and you know it’ll taste sweeter than anything in this world. 

The wrong thing wins.  

“Yes daddy.” You moan it, and the shameful thing sets off fireworks in your being, he smiles, and tucks his head into the damp crook of your neck, feeding his lovely filth right into your ear. 

“That’s my babygirl, that’s it, fuck baby you take it better than your mama.” Something inside recoils at that, but something else, another facet of that fucked up thing inside rejoices.

“Let me hear you say it again, say it when you come.” He licks a hot stripe up your neck. His words are a filthy groan, something to tuck away for later.

He reaches down, pressing his thumb to your clit just like he said on that couch and you keen, the slip and the pressure enough to toss you over the edge with an almost painfully intense orgasm. 

“I’m coming, daddy.” It’s a shuddering whisper as your cunt clenches around him. 

He moves quickly, kneeling between your legs to pull out and then he’s stroking himself over your cunt. It’s still pulsing when he paints it in his come. You catch your breath as he tugs at himself a few more times, milking himself against you with a disturbingly familiar groan. 

The fog clears altogether too quickly. The lights are too bright, you’re naked, and he’s still got his jeans around his thighs while the guilt creeps into your veins, replacing the euphoria. 

What have I done? What have you made me do?

[seekingflowers]

Future Husband Pick a Card (1-3)

I'm sure you all know how it works! Just relax and let your intuition guide you to choose your pile 🌕. Take what resonates and leave the rest. I am very honest and will not sugar coat what I see. Please don't hesitate to tell me what resonated with you! I welcome all to interact 🤝

Hello everyone! Welcome to my tarot blog. This is my first post ever, and a pick a card reading (1, 2, 3- cards) 🥰😍🥀

Pile 1:

Page of Wands

- First and foremost, it COULD indicate he's younger- if not, he may seem younger with his demeanor. More than likely, he may have approached you first. He'll be the first you one hear when you walk into a room.

In the beginning stages, this person will feel like a breath of fresh air. They are lively and outgoing. Always inviting you to join them on outings with friends or see and experience new places.

They are very social and ready to be on the go-go go. If you're not, it doesn't matter. They'll go because they're ready. Decisive and quick. However, it may not always be thought out. This person tends to be optimistic and may seem naive, but do not berate them. Sharp and witty, they stand their ground. They do not like to be held back and smothered. They seek fun and spontaneity, keep them on their toes. At times, you may feel like this man flakes out on you because he is so quick to do other things or entertain himself with others. He may forget things easily, such as planned dates or activities, anniversaries, or make sudden changes.

Their curiosity and openess will show you how to appreciate the moment and accept changes. It's okay to experience new things. If something is wrong, they will confront you, and they will expect the same from you. Be open and honest, and communicate with patience. They're not afraid to voice their opinion and say it how they see it. Friends and family love and adore their presence, which brings warmth and laughs all around.

Please remember, we all change with time, and some things may remain, but nothing lasts forever. Take what resonates and leave the rest.

Pile 2:

King of Wands Reversed.

- He's definitely the one to approach you. Could be someone older or someone in an authority position.

This man may appear aggressive, often displaying signs of frustration or impatience. Can be very controlling and dominant overall. He has natural charisma and a fiery intellect, making it difficult to get a word in with him. Stubborn and hot-headed, he will likely dislike opposing views or opinions. People's views of him are black and white. Few understand him. There could be a problem with respecting those above him or taking consideration from others in general. There are few to maybe none that he cares for, but if he does care, he is fiercely protective over them and will come to their side to defend them. Even blindly.

About action, he's the one to get it done and have a go get it now attitude. Either do it or don't. Prone to impulsiveness and hypocrisy, his actions may bring upon consequences he isn't ready to handle and will break down in a tantrum.

Not afraid to approach others, he is relentless with his pursuits. On the good days, his humor and smiles are a sight to see and hear. Captivating and charming, people are drawn to him or are intimidated by him. His humor isn't everyone's cup of tea. It may be crude.

Highly competitive, spats between him and others are frequent. He hates losing and hates being wrong.

To be with this man, thick skin is needed along with groundedness. With you, he can be very loving, but ill tempered and stubborn.

He's very likely a traditional man who wants a traditional wife and family with him as head of the household. Although earlier in life, he may have had a desire of the opposite for the short term.

Please note that the future is not set in stone. Take what resonates and leave the rest.

Pile 3:

Ace of Cups

- This man off the bat is an emotionally intuitive man. More likely to be reserved with his words, but expressive with his love and affections. Expressive eyes with intent prying into your soul. He enjoys private moments with you and goes out of his way to get you alone. It may seem unintentional, but it's not. It may be a love at first sight, or rather, when they fall in love- they fall hard.

There could be this feeling of a deep connection between the two of you that feels familiar yet so foreign. However, do not drown with the feeling. Learn to swim with it, or it will create false imaginations of the other person. You open up this person's inner world, and they want to pour into your cup endlessly. Sometimes, feelings can become intense, and a struggle to sort through emotions with each other can be difficult. Therefore, there can be spurts of emotional outbursts. Clear communication is very important with this man.

Being one to love deeply, he can hold a grudge and keep score of what wrong he thinks you've done to him. He might think he loves you more than you love him. This man wants you to be open with your love and reciprocate his feelings with the same intensity. When you are in an emotional frenzy from work or a bad day, he's the one to comfort and feel you. He'd go out of his way to make you feel better. If he can't, he will beat himself up for it. People close to him are few, even if it seems like there is a whole crowd around him. He's the go-to therapist or listener for folks, and it may get to him from time to time, so please allow him some space when needed.

Some days, he may seem hot and cold, but that's just likely because he isn't feeling anything that particular day or hour. Or he is in his head thinking about anything. As all humans do.

Love each other truly and not just love itself. It is easy to get lost in love and forget the person. Take what resonates and leave the rest.

Please remember, take what resonates, and leave the rest. One card does not describe everything about a person, and it is not the end all be all. Nothing is set in stone. People change - we all change.

Once again, please let me know what resonates and tell me what'd you like to see from me. 💫

[mykoreanlove]

sexy brain wasn’t having it

3.25 am.

Once again Namjoon lay awake at night, anticipating the next disaster. His thoughts were racing, fueling the anxiety that was rooted deep in his heart.

„Joon“, you mumbled sleepily as you twisted in his arms.

You calling him caught him by surprise, a welcomed yet unnecessary surprise.

„Why are you awake, love?“, he whispered in his deep raspy voice.

You chuckled as you patted his buff chest. „Well Sherlock, my precious darling is awake so I can’t sleep either.“

Namjoon smiled widely as he placed a sweet kiss on your forehead.

„Sorry.“

„Is something on your mind?“

He sighed, not really knowing how to articulate his thoughts.

„Do you remember when I told you about my ex? The one that cheated on me?“

You nodded silently.

„Do you also remember the girl that shot daggers at you when I took you out to dinner two days ago?“

„The one with the crazy eyes?“

A sad laugh escaped his lips. „Yeah. Actually, same person.“

„No way“, you gasped, suddenly fully awake. „Why didn’t you tell me?“

„Honestly? She did some crazy things back then so I just wanted to forget her. I don’t want you to be near her. Ever.“

You tightened your grip around your boyfriend, deeply touched by his concern for you.

„You really care about me, huh?“

„Slightly“, he bickered back, making the both of you laugh.

„Are you afraid that she’s gonna do something to us?“

Namjoon closed his eyes and sighed deeply. „I expect her to.“

You drew circles on his chest, hoping this would make him calm down and drift off to sleep. It seemed like it worked, until it didn’t.

Frantic sounds alerted you both, someone was ringing the bell like crazy.

„Namjoon. Namjoon!! Open up, please.“

Her whines were slurred and chaotic. You felt him tense under your touch, unsure what to do.

„Just ignore her, Joonie. I’m sure she’s gonna leave in a minute.“

„Joon!! God damn it, Joon!!! Open the fucking door!“

Namjoon debated if he should get up, but he also feared hurting you. Suddenly, the door flung open revealing a very bad tempered Jungkook.

„Hyung, please. Go talk to her. I can’t sleep and I can’t keep listening to her begging for you. I beg you talk to that lunatic.“

You squeezed Namjoon‘s hand, encouraging him to go.

„I love you“, he whispered in your ear.

„I know“, you stuck out your tongue.

„Namjoon, fucking rap monster open this door no-„

Namjoon‘s ex swallowed her tongue as she actually succeeded with her plan - her ex was standing before her, ready to listen to her tantrum.

„Joon“, she tried hugging him but he pushed her away.

„You know what time it is?“

She nodded her head, slightly ashamed. „Joon, I am sorry but I need to talk to you. Breaking up was the worst idea we ever had.“

He rolled his eyes at her, trying to stay calm.

„Cheating on me was even dumber if you ask me.“

„I never“, she tried to defend herself but bit her tongue as she saw the hurt in his eyes.

„I’m sorry. What I did was wrong. It’s just, I couldn’t handle our love back then. You’re such a grown up and I.. I am a mess.“

Flashbacks of all the tantrums she created flashed his mind. She always argued with him, accusing him of the most disrespectful shit. Looking back he could simply laugh about this, wondering how the hell he kept up with her frantics for so long. He didn’t care about the past, nor her anymore. He only cared about you.

„I call you a cab“, he stated sternly.

„NO!“

Namjoon sighed in annoyance.

„What do you want from me? Why are you here? Do you honestly think I’d take you back? After all you put me through?“

„Why not? Because of that bitch?“, she spat out.

His nostrils flared up instantly. Namjoon would never resolve a conflict with violence, especially not with a female. He’d rather contort to hurting one emotionally.

„I don’t want you to talk about my girlfriend like that. Ever again. Understood?“

„That should be me! I’m supposed to be your girl, Joon. Don’t you remember how great we were?“

„Nah“, he replied dryly.

His ex scoffed, too many blows to her ego. „Oh please, I’ve seen her. Since when do you date someone so basic? She’s half of me anyways.“

Namjoon took out his phone and ordered a cab, making an end to this nonsense.

„What are you doing? Joon, listen to me! She’s not the one for you, can’t you see?“

He raised his left brow, holding back what he truly felt.

„She’s average. Basic. Boring. I think you should dump her. I think you should get back together with me. I think you and I should become Korea‘s hottest couple and live a beautiful life together. I think I am the love of your life!“

A real, heartfelt laugh left his lips. His ex‘ eyes widened in expectation, anticipating her victory over you.

Namjoon however disagreed.

„Thank you for telling me what you think. I however, don’t think about you. At all.“

He turned around and went inside, hoping to never end up in a situation like that ever again.

[zalrb]

If you don’t mind me asking, why does loumand work for you a bit more than loustat

I don't mind at all! Loumand works for me more because a) the show allowed me to see in scene that their relationship is more fucked up than initially presented whereas Loustat is more me liking the idea of them because season 1 is mostly dialogue and b) I also find it more sinister just more subtle.

So, Loustat is supposed to be this volatile, stormy, all-consuming vortex of a relationship but like I've been saying, I think that's mostly in dialogue that makes me go, I want to see this (including the push pull of sentiments like "I wanted him dead, I wanted him all to myself" "I wanted to be the man" because those lines are voiceovers over Louis' face and while I think Jacob Anderson is a good actor, he doesn't provide the nuance needed for me to see the hatred, love, desire, resentment in his expression for those lines to really get me when it’s just on his face) along with a few key moments -- such as having hate sex in Antoinette's apartment, the reveal of what actually happened when they turned Claudia into a vampire -- that make me go, it should be this all the time.

It's supposed to be insanity and chaos, it's supposed to be this rollercoaster of emotion, like when Louis says "that's Lestat" where he says lies and lies and then says something real, I thought to myself, is that Lestat? Did we really see this before? They are way too contained for me, which is partly why I like making vids for them because I can edit things to be as chaotic as I believe they're supposed to be. I hear them talk about what their dynamic is more than I actually see it, so watching it I get frustrated because it should be more.

Loumand isn't supposed to be insanity and chaos, they are supposed to be light and flirty and then calming and stable and I see that in their interactions

but I also see the other part of why Louis is attracted to his relationship with Armand. Armand is extremely powerful but Louis is in control, he can tell him to take his clothes off and read while he fucks him and Armand will love it

Louis sets the pace, Louis leads.

Or so he thinks.

The show portrayed Armand as somewhat passive and docile for a 500 year old vampire in charge of a coven. We get a sense of his power and what he can do but he only seems to react to potential conflict, which he says

and then we get 2x05 and we get to see what he's like when he's angry and his, "Oh, he's fine. You're fine. This is fine. We're all fine" while torturing Daniel to hurt Louis

and him interrogating Daniel because he's hurt that Louis called him boring,

besides being more interesting to me than something like Lestat bringing soldiers to the house in a temper tantrum because I find Armand's calculated punishment way more insidious (which isn’t to downplay Lestat’s abuse), I am shown that this relationship isn't quite right and Armand isn't toothless.

Not to mention, he doesn't tell Louis that Lestat said "I love you" so if he's withholding that,

combined with what happened with the photos

combined with the fact that Armand had been hovering around the interview from the beginning pretending to be someone else,we're left wondering if this is true

and then when we get to Armand's role in Claudia's death, we're left questioning whether or not this supremely powerful vampire really was as powerless to stop it as he tells us he was

and while Armand's love may be sincere, his protection of Louis may be sincere, is he also maybe emotionally manipulating him to stay?

It's ironic that Louis says this

when it's quite clear that he does need these things and the way Armand even interacts with him in that very fight is him doing the things Louis says he doesn't need.

I'm along for the ride with Loumand and left wondering who is in control, who is manipulating who, and find that the show actually illustrates the subtleties and power shifts etc in more than just moments.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Thinking about a scenario where the Ink Demon/Ink MK/Curse the gang encounters in S4 accidentally forms an outer conscieness.

I feel like it gains sentience partially from MK refering to the Curse as a being separate from the Scroll - and not solely as a tool created to torment it's prisoners. Almost like a magic artifical intelligence.

I could see MK finding a way to contact the demon, mostly to gain greater insight on things he's mentally avoiding. Like by writing with an enchanted ink set, or with the ink left behind by the Curse's rampage.

MK, putting ink brush to paper: "Hi?" *The ink begins to blob and shape itself into words* Ink Curse, as writing on the paper: "You could have just used a pen, idiot." MK, excitedly writing back: "It's you!!" Ink Curse: "Why do you seem excited? Are you a glutton for punishment?" MK: "So, I know your whole thing is to pick people apart mentally, right?" Ink Curse: "Yes. I was spawned from the ink used to detail the crimes of those written into the scroll of memory. It is my purpose. Like how you were made for-" MK, writing over the response: "Yeah yeah chaos and destruction and stuff I know that part. But like, when I got home... I started thinking about the other stuff and... you seem pretty good at voicing thing people don't want to know about themselves. It almost feels I dunno... catartic almost? (is that how you spell it)? Ink Curse: "It is spelt Cathartic. And If you take any comfort in what I did, then I have failed my purpose. Or you are hopelessly dense." MK: "But thats the thing! I didn't feel comfortable! You dragged me out of my comfort zone and made me think about junk. It's actually helping me a little in coming to terms with... what I am." Ink Curse: *doesn't respond for some time* "You are strange." MK: "I mean, I guess. I'm writing to a demonic ink curse instead of going to an actual therapist. Hope to talk to you again soon Mozhi*!" Newly dubbed "Mozhi": "Excuse me?"

*"Mozhi/Mòzhī/墨汁" - meaning "squid ink" or the ink used in traditional chinese calligraphy.

And since putting a name to something gives its power, "Mozhi" begins to manifest beyond ink and paper. Ink stains and monkey handprints litter the apartment. The magnets on MK's fridge start rearranging into swear words. The menu at Pigsy's shuffles to critique minor flaws in the kitchen. Mei starts recieving scathing texts from an unlisted number. The tv starts glitching in the viewer's insecurities.

Eventually the gang break down MK's door to figure out wtf is going on, only to see an Ink!MK physically pull itself into the 3d world from the Cursed ink. Everyone starts screaming.

Macaque, laughing: "Oh my gods, I know what happened here - I've heard of it happening before in shadow demons. MK gave the ink Curse a name and that gave it power to, quote a little puppet made of pine; become a real boy." Ink Curse/Mozhi, stumbling like a newborn fawn: "Why is my body being pulled down?" Wukong: "It's called gravity, spot. You get used to it." Ink Curse/Mozhi: "You are actively floating." Wukong: "Yeah, doesn't mean I have to like gravity."

In his "physical" form, Mozhi looks like monkey!MK with inky black fur and colder toned skin - his facial marking a smeared grey color with a distinct heart-shaped outline. He reduces to his inky form when physically damaged or when he wants to "hop into" a book or artwork. Dislikes sunlight/heat, it dries him out.

And because he is no longer within MK's head/the scroll, he's a lot less all-knowing. He is however scarily perceptive of others thoughts and fears, and loudly narrates his opinions on things.

Red Son: "Is that a sentient ink curse?" Mozhi, mockingly: "Is that an emotionally-constipated daddy's boy who almost destroyed the world with a toddler temper tantrum, and still refuses to admit that he's more morally righteous than he lets on?" :3 Red Son, flames up: "Oh its on, you glorified Rorshace test!" MK: *sprays water bottle at them* "Down! Both of you! Mozhi, I said no commentating on people's inner thoughts!" Mozhi: "If y'all actually went to theraphy, then there would be nothing for me to talk about."

This also makes Mozhi the best person to roast somebody when the others are too busy/emotional to do so on their own. And since he mirrors the power of the person he's roasting, it gives him Jester's Immunity to damage from angry Celestials.

The Jade Emperor: "Why is there a loose ink demon in my throne room?" Mozhi, giggling manically as he morphs into an ink!Emperor: "Hahahahahaha~ wow. Ruler of all beings, mortal and divine. And you can't even recognise yourself. Disappointing really. Then again, can't expect much from a glorified intern that was gifted the throne and hasn't done much else since." *Vicious Mockery continues for many hours*

Mozhi is however... kinda bad at admiting and recognizing his own feelings? He's never had any before that weren't projections of others. Is this what true sadness feels like, or does he just need to get some sleep? Can come off as cold, even when trying to be geniune. He's just not used to having emotions or empathy yet.

Enjoys fictional works that dive into the concepts of meta-fiction and medium awareness, ex; Deadpool, Bandersnatch, and Doki Doki Literature Club.

[roobylavender]

i love ur critiques. what are 1 or 2 things per bat character (whether irt their fans, character, or comics) that you dont like?

(or if not every bat then just those u want <33)

thank you for the compliment! i'll do fan criticisms since that's always more fun

bruce

idk if it's an outright dislike but i feel like bruce fans who get up in arms about him killing simply do not take the time to understand his moral code across the span of his narrative.. bruce should never intentionally attempt to murder unless driven to absolute extremes and the few issues in which this idea was explored by mike w. barr the ultimate outcome was meant to demonstrate why bruce should never intentionally attempt to murder (e.g., in son of the demon his murder of qayin effectively amounts to nothing and leaves him bereft of talia's companionship and the start of their family together; in batman: full circle if he went through with the murder of the reaper another child would be left orphaned and that is not a reality bruce wants to facilitate). they are character studies and should be treated as such! however alternatively i do not think bruce has as concrete feelings about unintentional murder. if he's in a chaotic situation and he has to choose between saving a civilian and saving a supervillain, he will choose the civilian, and that's okay! sometimes you have to prioritize! and dick and cass are there to feel guilty for not being able to save everyone lol

dick

i am constantly confused with dick fans' simultaneous frustration over his permanent removal to batman editorial (valid, correct, etc.) and their desire to frame him as the omnipresent big brother figure to everyone in the bat family. like.. are these not contradictory to each other lmao. i've discussed it before but it feels like many of them want to combat the idea that he's a bad big brother even though he was realistically under no obligation to do anything for bruce's other wards/adoptees like mans had already left the house! he did not have a relationship with those kids and he doesn't have to. it doesn't make me think lesser of him at all

every dick fan should be required to read up on wally and garth outside of teen titans comics before even daring to speak on either of them idgaf

jason

i'm gna skip him because i feel like 70% of my account is dedicated to discussing what i don't like about most jason fans

tim

admittedly i have less context to clarify this confusion because my reading stops abruptly in like 2002 but i'm very confused with tim fans' simultaneous positioning of him as this boy scout representation of why batman will always need a robin! and their complete indulgence in his emo boy era. i still haven't read said emo era because again [see above] but i feel like a lonely place of dying can very clearly be read as the start to a tragedy because it's insane for any thirteen year old to think he has to be the one to make sure gotham's vigilante apparatus remains functioning. reading robin (1993) is jarring in the most effective way possible because it's these moments of tim trying to lead a normal, trivial, everyday life juxtaposed against moments where he's in an outright terror zone or seconds away from beating a man to death or throwing a temper tantrum because bruce didn't respect his privacy even though it was in the interest of reassuring stephanie that tim was okay. tim unfortunately comes from a place of privilege and is not in any sense emotionally equipped to deal with what he gets into and i don't know how people think that starts with jack's death in identity crisis and not years prior with the beginning of his stint

to the above end, i truly don't care about the debate over tim's various secret identities and out of all of the bat kids i think he is the one most desperately in need of permanent retirement. let him indulge his stalker tendencies and photography talents per some other means (investigative journalism) before he goes insane

stephanie

i'm sure batgirl (2009) is a cute book or whatever (aside from its characterization of damian..) but i'm never going to read it and the idea that the spoiler identity wasn't sufficient to explore stephanie as a character is just.. eternally stupid to me. like obv most people acknowledge that the decision to make her into robin was one intended to set her up for failure but i also don't know why she ever needed to become batgirl later on. spoiler is not an identity adjacent to the red hood wherein stephanie is using it as a crutch to deter herself from achieving closure with her trauma and the only reason editorial made her ditch it is because they hate anyone not fitting into the robin-batgirl dichotomy

do steph fans like timst*ph? idk. i'm anti romantic timst*ph but i like the idea of them remaining besties provided tim works through his plethora of issues and biases

damian

in the tim vs. damian debate i am squarely on tim's side lol.. if i was a fifteen year old who witnessed my dad, best friend, and girlfriend violently die within the span of like a year and then saw the one thing to which i had clung for the past three years of my life like a psychological lifeline ripped away from me for the sake of a random kid with severe attitude issues i too would develop into the most caustic teenager known to man. obv editorial racism has its part to play in this but i'm annoyed that people constantly opt to dogpile on tim and not the writers because frankly tim's reaction to the circumstances is completely predicated

i'm not interested in dialoguing with damian fans who want to maintain any part of talia's (and by extension bruce's) abusive parenting in canon. i don't care how crucial it is to his character origins and development. that's not my concern and new 52 should have wiped him out of existence or rebooted his character entirely from scratch if they wanted me to care

alfred

does this man even have fans

barbara

i'm never going to understand dickb*bs like not even from a ship war or dick is an asshole perspective i just genuinely don't think barbara would ever have given him the time of day in that regard. he was a kid she knew once who maybe had a crush on her at one point before he moved away to another city and developed his own life there. why should she care about that. as if she doesn't have her own life! i know barbara has not been afforded many options in terms of romance and that dick has been the overarching love interest she's portrayed alongside but idk i don't think we have to make concessions merely because something is canon. canon can suck and we can reject it because it sucks even if it's omnipresent

the brub*bs versus dickb*bs situation is kind of funny to me because like yes the execution of these relationships in the timmverse is obv horrid and gag inducing but also as i recall in the comics barbara originally did have a crush on the batman or she was at least fascinated by him lol.. like i don't support it obv and her crush on him was as much fleeting and childish as was dick's crush on her and i faaaaar prefer bruce and barbara's bestieship. but it's funny to me that people would ship one and condemn the other like pot meet kettle lol

standard disclaimer that i can't do cass and duke bc idk enough about either of them 😔

[prototypelq]

DMC random thoughts and headcanons in no particular order:

(incest shippers - I will Real Impact you on sight, Go Away; DMC is exclusively a gen (except Nero/Kyrie) family drama to me)

- I kind of wish there had been more of a '5 plot except Dante doesn't wake up and Vergil has to decide between power and the life of his brother' AU going on around here. I had a post written about it, but basically I think Nero himself is more than enough to give Vergil's emotional constipation some cracks, and then the ball gets rolling

- More Cerberus And King Cerberus Appreciation!!! They are two great demonic doggos and deserve more love (and double the appreciation for their weapon forms). I wish Dante had a Cerberus as a dog, than man really needs emotional support

- Vergil should Not have 4 wings. Controversial, yes, but he has a very cool and stabby tail in SDT, Wings are Dante's thing. Dante should have 4 wings, Vergil should have two and a tail, I Do Not Accept criticism

- Dante/Lady or Lucia ship could totally sail (personally I lean more towards Lucia), but not in this story of DMC, at least not for me. I think Dante could like either of them, but he is absolutely not in the right space for any kind of relationship during the entire story of the series, and probably won't be for a long time even after 5

- Patty Adopted Dante As Father Figure, I Do Not Accept Criticism

- Patty would get like a house on fire with Nero, especially if they compare Dante burns. She would also get along well with Vergil, because he actually has manners and style, she can appreciate that, also Patty wouldn't bother him too much (aside from nagging to be nicer).

- Dante is the Best Uncle when he is actually trying

- I wish we had at least a little bit more story going for Lucia, I really like her, but have not idea how to fit her in with other characters

- Nero didn't need to grow his arm back. He gets beautiful DT wing-claws, they are enough, or, well, they couldve made him be able to make a temporary 'holo arm' if needed, but in any case he is a better character if his arm is missing. Nero uses Breakers anyway, and his theme is using human contraptions instead of demonic artefacts. Regrowing an arm just makes him another one in a long line of 'disabled characters that get magically cured of their disaibility'. (have you seen his reloading animation with one arm? it`s great and just as cool as others)

- Dante and Vergil silently agreed to let Nero throw his much needed temper-tantrum, and Vergil absolutely went on easy mode on Nero. I love the punk boy, but no way he would be able to defeat either of the twins

- It is exceptionally beautiful to me how much alike and different the twins are, and either of them could be a hero, or a villain in their respective story. At the same time I am absolutely certain a villain!Dante would be irredeemable

- Battle for the Sun by Placebo is a song I associate with the tragic story of the wins. The music and melody is explosive and destructive, just like everything that came crashing down around the twins, it rises in intensity as their problems are left for decades to fester, the lyrics of the verses is very determined - both wont stand down and are extremely determined to see their crash course till the end (also the multiple repeats of some words makes it sound a little like a broken record - or in a narrative sense, like a lie they keep and keep telling themselves) , however the chorus is very different. The explosion of music that is constantly rising in verses finally blows up, and in this destructive cacaphony of sound the chorus is actually emotionally raw and sweet - the final confrontation of the brothers was inevitable, and it is the conclusion of their story, both know that and there is no more place left for conflict of goals, ideals or anything else, they know the end of their story is coming and the only thing they feel is joy. Joy as they clash together, like only they can, joy at seeing each other, alive after all these years, and joy at being together again, even in this twisted way, their affection in undeteterred

- (more Patty propaganda) I believe Morrison found the 'protect young child from demons' job for Dante on purpose. Morrison is probably one of the people who have known Dante for longest, so he would recognise halfbreed's change in moods after the Mallet job (for example Morrison notes Dante was sad when Patty left at the end of the anime, and...is this the only time someone actively voices concern for Dante's mental health? dammit everyone is this series is an emotional trainwreck). It's unknown if Morrison knows exactly How close to Home of an assignment Patty is (very young orphan hunted by demons, and she is not a half-devil child) to Dante, but her character was probably another good reason for Morrison to pick her as a temporary company to Dante. Even without considering his depressed state, Dante responds only to other dominating personalities (rivalry with Vergil, constantly trying to one-up another friendship with Lady) and Patty certainly has no patience for his laying around or mess at home. At the same time, she is considerate and empathetic enough to give him space or leave him alone if needed. She was the person to help him through the time after Mallet trauma and she did an admirable job. I think this makes their relationship (familiar one, NOT a ship) special, and she totally adopted Dante as her Father Figure against his will, and he can't do anything about it since.

- Subhuman is The Perfect song for DMC5 Dante (would I have liked it on its own? dunno, probably not, but playing the game with it on feels fantaSSStic and I adore this song ever since, also it is thematically On Point with Dante's character arc in 5)

- One of the fics I've read (Неудачник by velkhar on ao3) had written down the idea that Dante doesn't speak in SDT is because he is afraid of what his voice would sound like (once again, Dante has problems with his demonic heritage, they did not go away, not at all) and this headcanon has been aggressively accepted ever since

- Every Sparda has a very refined music taste. Dante is a Red Hot Chilli Peppers and Tenacious D fan for sure, perhaps also a Deepeche Mode fan, probably other 80-90s rock would fall into his interests. Nero is more of a pop rock guy, he definitely would like some rap and grunge music too, he'd like older Imagine Dragons albums, Linkin Park For Sure, maybe Skillet and or Katy Perry, probably also developed a taste for some classical music (being in Order and all; btw yes, you can like rock and classical music at the same time). Dante and Nero would dance to Shakira and Lady Gaga. Vergil's harder to pin down, as much as I enjoy BTL I cannot imagine him listening to it. I'd say he would enjoy classical music of course, maybe something like jazz or soul too. Might be a big stretch, but I also think Vergil would enjoy something like Evanescence too, I feel like all Spardas have a weak spot for female lead vocals.

(projecting here) all of them would like orchestral covers of classic rock songs, Vergil would especially enjoy covers on pipe organ (double projecting).

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Hi ! I am diagnosed as an autistic person and today, well yesterday I had an emotional crisis (I have trouble differentiating meltdowns, shutdowns and burnouts so that’s how I call it).

I am currently missing a day of high school (my class is horribly noisy) and I am trying to recover and I was wondering if foods and drinks were a good idea, like hot chocolate for example.

My mother is also going to buy headphones at least today or, if not possible, tomorrow plus adding a permission to my PAI (idk how to translate this but it’s an adaptation any student can have in France if they have a major issue or problem with something) so I can wear them in class or just leave the classroom if needed. Thank you in advance for answering, and have a good day or night !

Hi there,

I found an article talking about shutdowns and meltdowns and even how to avoid them. According to the article:

Meltdowns 

Meltdowns are often the result of situations which are highly stimulating or create high levels of anxiety which feel like they can't be escaped. When someone is in this situation their reaction is either flight, fight or freeze. If the person cannot escape that leaves two options: either fight or freeze. 

Meltdowns are similar to the fight response. 

When an autistic person is having a meltdown they often have increased levels of anxiety and distress which are often interpreted as frustration, a 'tantrum' or an aggressive panic attack. 

It's important to understand that meltdowns are not 'temper tantrums'. They are a reaction to a highly distressing situation or environment. 

While in a meltdown a person can be injurious to others or themselves because of the extreme state of anxiety their body is in. That's why it's really important to minimise the risk of this happening - both for the person and those around them. 

Meltdowns are very physically tiring and emotionally draining for the individual. This is because the person has been in a distressing situation and has had a highly adrenalised and emotionalised response. 

Shutdowns

If meltdowns are equivalent to the fight response, then shutdowns are similar to the freeze response.

They are often the result of situations with high demand in one or a few of the following areas:

social situations

situations that require a lot of thinking

lack of sleep

very emotional situations

situations that are very active or physical.

An analogy for a shutdown is like a computer trying to turn on but it can't because there isn't enough power to do so. In a shutdown an autistic person might not seem themselves because they're so overwhelmed that their focus has shifted to the basic functions. As they are at a reduced ability to process what is going on they may struggle to communicate as they normally do, which can mean they are mute or have a lot of difficult forming coherent sentences.

How to help prevent meltdowns and shutdowns

Preemptive planning can really help to mitigate against triggers that might lead to a meltdown. 

For example, you can reduce anxiety related to uncertainty about certain situations by providing information about what to expect in advance - such as a visual timetable or agenda.  

Another way to reduce the likelihood of a meltdown is to create environments that don't overwhelm the senses. For example, allowing children and young people to wear ear defenders in noisy rooms or dimming the lights to create a less harsh ambience. 

It can be very difficult and distressing to support someone during a meltdown, so knowing what to do in advance is key.

The best way to find out what causes someone to have a meltdown is to ask them or someone who knows them well.

The best remedy for a shutdown is giving the person the space to rest, recuperate and recover without placing additional demands on them. A shutdown can be like a reset for an autistic person.

The article will be below:

[darxk]

iris - i don't want the world to see me

tw/cw: blood, cuts, emotionally pressuring thoughts, breakdown

a/n i definitely vented to some degree in this

___________________________________________________________

as you watched the blood trickle down your fingertips, you couldn’t help but wonder how you ended up like this. how you ended up with a torn apart room and bloody hands.

the game was a 6 of clubs. you felt like screaming. how much more can you take? how many people did you have to please in order to survive? you wanted so badly to snap the neck of one of the players for verbally berating you. “you’re so weak and limp! i heard that you couldn’t even protect your teammates last round! what makes you think i’d play with you?” . you winced every word the man spat. he didn’t stop until kuina gave him a piece of her mind

after the vile man had left, kuina turned to you, “are you ok?!” you nod. her face hardens, “why didn’t you do anything?”

you had been at a loss for words. the man had been a key player and you couldn’t do anything. you didn’t want to seem too hardheaded to anyone.

you had been able to complete the game and took the cars back to the beach where kuina rambled on about some random thing. you had bid her goodbye and quickly hurried to your room, brushing past a man in a hoodie.

as soon as you collapsed in your room, a string of curses escaped your throat. “why the fuck am i even crying?!” you laughed hysterically, “i’m just being stupid.”

“stop crying, it’s unsightly!”

“how shameless… to think you would act out like this.”

“how selfish.”

the memory was a slap to the cheek. you remembered that day, the neighbours had kicked a ball to your face, and you went to seek comforting words from your family but that was the only thing they said were those harsh words. you had quickly learned that getting mad at anyone was useless, that it wouldn’t benefit you. you just wanted someone to see you for you, not the world you would misunderstand your whole being. but when you had found someone, he was cold and dishonest… not the best person but you took what you got. and you probably took too much. because that’s what you do, you take, and you take without ever giving.

today was the tipping of the scale, you were at the height of emotional capacity, sick of bottling everything up. you grabbed the nearby glasses and threw them at the wall. you were being petty and having a meltdown, but nobody could see you, so you didn’t give a fuck.

you threw anything fragile at the walls or anything sturdy, lamps, cosmetics, anything. when you had run out of those you picked up the larger shards and threw those. they of course sliced your hands, crimson liquid flowing from the cuts.

so that was how you got here, curled up on the bed, bloody, numb and an emotional wreck that was surrounded by glass shards of various sizes.

“this is a mess,” a deep voice sounded from the doorway. you didn’t even have to turn to face the intruder to identify the owner of the voice.

“go away, chishiya. i’m not in the mood for your games,” you huffed.

chishiya ignored you and walked around the wreck, observing and chuckling at the mess, “i could hear your temper tantrum from down the hall. never knew you could be this emotional, it doesn’t suit you.”

you were beyond embarrassed. if he could hear you, that would mean some of the other members of the beach did as well

you opted to ignore his snide remarks and buried your face deeper into your legs. “hey. stop hiding,” you could feel his presence looming above you beside the bed.

you grabbed a glass shard, wincing as it left gashes on your palm, and pointed the tip of it to him, “what would you know about hiding? you’re just your bitchy self, day and night.”

chishiya sighed as he took the glass out of your hand, exploiting the fact you were too weak and numb to put up a fight. he clicked open a box which he seemed to have brought in. he took you by the hands and examined your body and quickly got to work, dabbing the disinfectant on the cuts which left you hissing and wincing, even shying away from his grasp until he held you in place.

after disinfecting your wounds, he gently wrapped strips of bandages over your legs and arms.

“done,” he puts away the kit and quickly cleared the glass from the floor and the bed into a pile, “you should get some sleep.”

as he is about to walk out, you grab onto the sleeve of his hoodie, your eyes growing more sore and heavier by the second, “please don’t go… shuntaro…”

he chuckles and sits next to you as you begin to lie and drift to sleep. he places a tender kiss on your forehead as he assumes a lying position by your side, your pinkies just touching.

as he watches you breathe steady breaths, he notices you vulnerable you are in your sleep. none of those facades or false emotions, just genuine fatigue. as he shifts his body to hug yours, he begins to drift off to sleep while thinking, you deserve so much better, before sleep claimed his senses.

[soraka-in-warhammer40k]

I am a 100 pages deep into Ruination now (the League of Legends novel featuring Kalista) and I got to say, this is good. I wonder how it is from someone who doesn't know a thing, but the moment you do all the hints and stuff hinting at what is to come is just delightful.

At the same time this book managed to something every single League property has failed to do so: making Viego rightfully scary. Not because of his emotional tantrums, amassed wealth and/or powers, but because once the man's mind is fixated on something, he can ACTUALLY BE COMPETENT TO A DISTURBING DEGREE.

Viego consulted 50 years of sea-charts and dug through 500+ years worth of archives to locate Helia. Within a few days.

Granted he, looked like THIS when he presented his findings...

... but he was ENTIRELY CORRECT!

It might be hard to realize at first glance, but let me pin down the specifics:

Viego had no issues with the lingual drift inherent in centuries worth of chronicles and archive texts

He was also capable of reading nautical charts a skill I assume is NOT typically part of a royal education of an mostly land-focussed country, especially not those 50+ years old.

He then had the wits to consolidate that knowledge into a new chart, and THEN sifted through the nautical logs of ships that ever got off their intended course at the suspicious area until he found a pattern there.

It is easy to imagine that there was an army of scholars and intellectuals helping him, but simply coordinating them would have been impossible at that time, especially with his paranoia getting worse. All he had was him requesting stuff and people brought it, while he was digging through it, with maybe his old Nunyo giving advice or translating a term here or there.

Viego is often defined by his ego, his emotionality, and a not exactly pleasant personality - and while those things can fit his antagonistic status, all that does not turn him into a fearsome villian. What does, however, is that underneath all that, there's a BLOODY GENIUS. The Ruined King while on a temper-tantrum might be a force to be reckoned with, but I'd rather not be opposing him when he's actually calm for once.

Also I know Nunyo Necrit is supposed to be an old grouchy man but all I can hear when he speaks is the youtuber who he is named after. Adds to the experience, if you ask me.

[sneezemonster15]

The thing with Bakugo is that even though he’s very entertaining (he was my fav character when I stated to watch bnha), with time I got bored of his character because I didn’t feel any sympathy or empathy for him… I just had the feeling he wasn’t growing as a person, and it was more and more the case as the story kept going.

Honestly, I prefer him this way. It's not like he doesn't have sympathy or emotional intelligence. He showed it when he learnt about Shoto's family secret , he even showed his support towards Deku when he found out his quirk's secret and kept it that way. He was even ready to help Midoriya out by fighting him, so he could finally learn to use his black flames. He is soft in places one would expect him to be, he is just not comfortable showing it. He grew up in a household where casual violence is the way to go. His mother was shown to not be overly sensitive either, unlike Deku's mum. So it's not surprising he is that way. It is learnt aggression heh.

On the surface, it does look like he doesn't have sympathy or empathy but he does when required. He is not an overly sensitive guy, and thank God for that, one Deku is enough. I also like his moxie. He is arrogant and petty, but he backs up his claims, he is not a useless loudmouth, he delivers on his promises. He is a reliable character. And it's not even like he is a loner or overly anti-social. On the surface it looks like he is selfishly ambitious. But when their class is preparing for the school festival, he participates and even promises to create the best show. Even if to just 'show them', but it's clear that he enjoys the company of people when it suits him, which is fine with me. His hot temper is definitely part of his personality and not just a way to hide his softer side, but he does have a soft side. It's not very apparent, but that's okay because his actions say otherwise. However subtle or layered.

As for being a hero, his ambition is to be number one hero, to surpass All Might, sure it's not the best reason to be a hero, considering his rival cum protag's guiding motivation is to help people. But there are so many other characters in this manga who are ambitious like him and not for the most philanthropic reasons, so why single him out? It's cool with me.

Even All Might has an inkling that sometimes Bakugou's aggression towards Deku is his way of showing concern. If he was truly hateful, Deku and his other classmates would have been more wary of him, but like no one takes his foul comments or tantrums seriously. Lol. I hope he remains this way, sure there's scope in him to mature, but I hope his basic character traits stay the same.

He is a more layered and complex character than annoying Deku for sure. And I like him that way. It's entirely fine for me to not feel empathetic or sympathetic towards his character, I don't need to feel that for every character I like. He surely doesn't need it. He is not an underdog character like Deku. So I don't require to look deep into my vulnerable side in order to appreciate his character. He is already smart and confident and strong. He is a precocious child and as long as he delivers on his goals, and creates entertainment along the way, I am good. Bnha is just timepass content, just for some fun, it is not supposed to stir deep emotions in the audience, apart from your generic shounen tropes. So it's okay that Bakugo is not the most emotionally influential character. He is what he is, and what he is, is good enough for the themes of this manga.

[ghostly-wisteria-tea]

Nailing my Isekai Khonshu character is a bit difficult since I have this habit of writing them slightly differently as each works go on. But in general, I am taking a huge amount of liberties since I stopped caring about accuracy, because comic lore is f*cking all over the place and retcons itself anyway.

Isekai-MCU Khonshu is like a weird combo of your old tired, jaded veteran grandpa stuck in a child's body and have the impulses of one. He can be a bit of a hypocrite when he tells mortals about their flaws, only to end up doing said flaws an hour later.

This is actually due to the contradicting nature of his godhood. As the god of youth, he is eternally a child and isn't supposed to grow-up.

Kind of like Peter Pan, the boy who never grows up.

Growing up means to give-up his youth. He is supposed to embody the prime child aspect within every mortal and living creatures. Curiosity, gentle happiness, joy on little things.

That's why I gave Khonshu a huge sweet tooth and a fondness of games. He also have all their flaws such as temper tantrums, impulsive behavior, sometimes he can't read the room, would say what is in his mind without a second thought, and sometimes thinks that he is right all the time.

Though he can also see and ask questions that isn't confined to the norms and rules. The kind that you end up being force into as you grow up. You end up getting stuck with getting a job, paying rent, finding ways to earn for your family. In a way, you lose that curiosity and open mind-ness as the mundane and boring responsibilities of adulthood starts to weight down on you. Khonshu can think and act outside the "box", creating innovative ideas that is both stupid and ingenious. And this helped him get out of dangerous situations many times after his banishment. Some of which are of his own making.

In contrast, as a god he is very, very old. He learned what it is to be mature and an adult by sheer experience and observation of humanity's ups and downs. He have seen disasters, struggles and how to avert them. He can give mature adivse to other's, but the "child god" within prevents him from fully applying that maturity to himself.

Because a child isn't supposed to be the "adult".

This can create a tension as inside Khonshu is fully aware of the contradicting nature of himself. A contradiction that was a later development after he was banished.

Before his banishment, he was with the Ennead and his fellow gods. Practically everyone there are related so Khonshu had his family.

His family was basically acting as the "adult" in the situations, telling Khonshu that sometimes his ideas are not really great and keeping him in check. He still looked like that adult since it is one of his forms in antiquity, but his inner child personality shines a lot.

And one that they tend to just let go since it is a child's nature to make mistakes, and it's the duty of their parents/adults to correct them.

When Khonshu got banished, it was then that he realized that no one is keeping him in check anymore. His family are not allowed to interact with him personally without permission until that banishment was lifted. Leaving Khonshu alone.

So to make up, Khonshu have to force himself to "grow-up" and be his own adult even though it is in contrast to his role as a "Child God".

This process is, in itself, difficult since Khonshu have to sometimes go against his own godly nature and be something that he isn't supposed to be. And it is a slow process.

Even after thousands of years, Khonshu is still having trouble trying to balance out being his own "mature adult" and suppressing the "immature Child god". He would even just stop trying when it got way too difficult, both emotionally and mentally. And it just left him jaded and tired.

Now that he ended up in another world, in a body that isn't banished. He can indulge in being that inner child instincts from time to time. Though it can be a double edged sword again since his inner child instincts is much, much stronger and can get in the way of the cold, calculating voice of distant reason that he spend years cultivating after his banishment.

[vizthedatum]

I still think that “narcissism” is a helpful term (and I do view it differently than the eponymous diagnosis which was coined in the 1900s), but I am coming around to seeing the value (especially as someone who can finally start to articulate the behaviors I’ve experienced) of describing what I’ve gone through without using the term.

I still don’t think the usage of the term is ableist, and this isn’t a post justifying that. I will not respond to any people or comments about why I should not use the term. If you wanna debate, then debate on your own blog instead of policing someone’s language.

I just think that, from a survivor-mindset where the survivor may or may not have a psychology background but is seeking resources and help, it is helpful for our growth to say what happened:

—

They were purposely and intentionally antagonistic towards me when they wanted to be so that they could get their way in the relationship, without regard for my mental and physical health.

I enabled these behaviors, and I also had maladaptive behaviors of my own. I fawned to avoid conflict a lot.

I am aware that I severely “betrayed” my ex-spouse’s trust by leaving our marriage, telling my friends it was domestic violence (which I truly believed and still do), filing a protective order, and demanding my share of our assets.

I am aware that I hurt my ex-spouse by the constant fighting we both engaged in the last year of our relationship.

I am aware that they thought I cheated on them even though I told them about all my dalliances, under our agreement that we had a poly and open relationship. They wanted to be in control of who I fell in love with, even though they knew I wanted to be publicly poly since we initially dated.

I am aware that my chronic health issues and my depressive modes were “too much” for them to handle, becoming an inconvenience for them, especially during the pandemic.

I am aware that they think that I’m endangering people with my current Covid precaution strategy, which is more “lax” and more realistic than their privileged stance of staying indoors the whole time while not getting vaccinated regularly.

I am aware that they and whoever they’ve told about our situation think I’m absolutely unhinged, abusive, selfish, insecure, insensitive, ableist, etc.

I’ve been aware of all this and more FOR A LONG TIME. I might be autistic and traumatized, but I’m not dumb - I knew they’d turn on me once our relationship was over by their standards (aka they couldn’t control me anymore).

—

My ex lied and manipulated me, consistently. They emotionally harmed me. They threw temper tantrums. They knowingly put me in toxic situations. They warped my mind without my consent.

They didn’t want to go to therapy, let alone couples’ counseling.

They played me, and I fell for it.

They will likely never apologize, and they paint me out to be the abuser or toxic person. They are unlikely to take any accountability for systematically ruining my life - because they don’t think they have.

—

I LOVED THEM AND I MISS SO MANY THINGS. I WAS IN LOVE WITH THEM. I doubled down on my love, with blind faith.

—

Fuck them. I hope they work on themselves.

I forgive myself for even being in that situation.

I’m so glad I never had any children or pets with them.

[acldwash]

Ive been trying to reinforce to my bpd part that we have me and that IS enough, we can give love to ourselves and that is enough, we always will have us and no one can take that from us. But then my bpd is like but what about this *expirences deepest pit of loneliness and makes me feel no warmth but like an empty bottomless pit*

Also logically my brain is also like "yeah but u factually need people cause youre a social animal or else it will affect your mental health even more"

So im like yeah i know these things but also we need to try and learn to navigate this with the understanding and tools we have or we can kill ourselves like? There is only 2 options guys. We fotta try our best or die there really isnt much else we can do. The suffering of not moving at all and just rotting i refuse to go back to and so we have to try or that will happen and that would be death.

My bpd self is like yep lets die thats the best idea but im like no we cant do that we would have lived for nothing but suffering, we need to try, we need to do radical acceptance and embrace starting over no matter how many times it will happen, we need to be okay with the idea that nothing is guaranteed in this world, but we have us to do whats best for us. I think its when we both agree i need to die is when i become intensly seriously suicidal where im making plans for it and am wishing for it and its completely different feeling. Otherwise its just getting triggerd and shame spirals that include impulsive feelings of suicidal ideation where i have moments of intensely wanting to die but having my mood swing up again to a point im like "okay maybe it will be okay"

They are like 5 but also they are massive and angry and destructive when they are like this, like a giant monster throwing a temper tantrum like a 5 year old cause they werent loved then and its only been reinforced to them. its like a war in my head when its like this, and sometimes my voice gets smaller and smaller and theirs gets louder and louder until all i am is them. Who is still me just another part of me thats holds a lot of shit and is emotionally a child

[bookofmirth]

Hi!

I am curious to know what you think of Cassian and Nesta's relationship? I know a lot of people (myself included) was disappointed with how he handled things and how their relationship developed.

I would have wished he stood up for her more. I understand that the IC is his family, but it takes nothing to draw boundaries. It was surprising to see how comfortable they were insulting Nesta in his presence. Even more so, to see him agreeing with those insults or believing the worst of her.

Besides how terrible the hiking scene was (and how he shared joy with Rhysand about Nesta suffering through it) my biggest ick would have to be how he handled their mating bond.

In a moment of emotional awareness, Cassian decided to leave Nesta for a week because he knew she was unprepared for the bond between them and wanted her to "come to terms with it".

But later on, when Nesta tries to have a conversation about what she is comfortable with when it comes to mating bonds, he throws a huge temper tantrum. This doesn't make sense because pages before, he knew that Nesta wasn't 100% onboard with being mates. But when she admits to this out loud, he suddenly has a problem with it?

Overall, Nessian really sucked for me in this book and really changed the way I viewed his character. I think he's a jerk.

S/N: The hiking scene also sets a dangerous precedent. Is this how Cassian will choose to handle fights between the sisters now? Every time Nesta upsets Feyre, would he send her on a hike to punish her again. And gloat with Rhys about her suffering. Not that there should be any competition, but it seems Nesta will never have someone defend her the way everyone defends Feyre. Or go to such lengths for her.

I think you sent this before I answered this ask, but some of my general feelings about nessian are there!

They seemed in character to me in acosf, in that they had a lot of push and pull, and they are more antagonistic towards one another than sjm's other couples. There is teasing and challenging each other, and there is being downright mean, and nessian can veer into being mean territory which, for me, means they'll never be my favorite. (I just put that in bold because it's the tl;dr of my feelings on their ship.) I like to explore the tension and how they try to grapple with one another emotionally, but it's more an intellectual exercise for me, than something I like or have fun with.

Re: the hike scene, Cassian didn't send her off on the hike. Rhys ordered her out of Velaris and Azriel packed their bags before Cassian even got to him, so putting this whole situation on Cassian is inaccurate. Rhys saying he was going to kill Nesta was absolutely out of line, but he was acting in fear and anger. I can make you a list of times where Nesta also reacts in fear and anger, and the fandom tries to make excuses for her all the time. It's a messy situation and I don't think anyone comes out of it looking good, is my point. But it involves many more people than just Cassian and Nesta, its root had nothing to do with Cassian, so I don't think that it says anything about their romantic relationship, necessarily.

I've seen other people make the same statement as you, that it seems like Nesta won't have someone ready to throw down for her the way that Feyre does, that we assume Elain will, that Aelin does, etc. That's fair! Perhaps that will come with time? We haven't seen nessian as a couple post-her dealing with her trauma and guilt in acosf. I think it's absolutely possible that she will get that. acosf ended right at the point of them finally coming together and accepting that they were going to be together and be mates, so we haven't yet seen them in a committed, public relationship! Now that I think of it, what fluff did we get in acosf? Nesta's most light-hearted moments were all with Gwyn and Emerie. I think we will get that with her and Cassian later on.

I guess my question with Cassian is - what would people have preferred Cassian do differently, that 1) would be in character, and 2) wouldn't force him to take sides? I absolutely hate the idea that Cassian is supposed to be the bigger person all the time because that's not how relationships works, it's incredibly unfair to him, and it also puts him in a weird dad/therapist position to Nesta, which is also not how relationships work. If we were to switch their genders, I think it'd be easier to see how and why that's such a troubling role to ask one person in a relationship to take.

*side note, I am just putting this post out here as my opinion and I'm not looking to have that changed. I don't care enough to engage in debate about who was meaner to whom. I'm here for character analysis, not character wars. Ultimately, I don't care to engage in a verbal fight about which character was "more wrong" or who was meaner or who was morally superior. (This is not directed at you anon, just at anyone who might get ideas about coming into my inbox to fight. IDC.)