#im the daddy issues

[diavolosboobies]

Just a reminder that Lucifer (OM) and Darkiplier are the same person and if Lucifers English VA isn't just Markiplier I'm leaving the fandom

We're lucky these two don't exist in the same universe, all hell would break loose

[inkskinned]

you say it's my villain era and what you mean is that when you were six you panicked about wearing the right thing to kindergarten, what you mean is that in middle school nobody was eating, what you mean is that you spent high school prepping for college and college prepping for adulthood and adulthood fucking lost in the system.

what you mean is that you've been good. you were a good team player. you would have never considered yourself perfectionist - those are people more popular, prettier, more successful - but you carry any flaw like a secret in you, terrified someone will desert you for the simple reality of your personhood.

if you were good you could be loved. you could be loved if you were selfless and thoughtful and caring. if you bent over for every person, if you went above-and-beyond, it would absolve you of who you actually were. deep down, how horrible that you had needs. that you had boundaries, that you had desires. you learned young that you cannot afford to cut people out of your life - you would have nothing left. it is better to live in the service of others, to supplicate. to worship. you weren't exceptional, you had to make up for it in some way. to prove to others you were worthy.

if they need you, it's the same thing as loving you. if you are always-there, always-listening, always-friendly, you are filling a role. you have a purpose. you are living correctly.

villain era, you repeat. you mean: yesterday you finally told a man no. for hours afterwards, you couldn't control your heartbeat. you mean: you've been saying positive affirmations on repeat, trying to teach yourself any new thing about how self care is necessary. you mean: three weeks ago, due to a scheduling conflict, you finally told a coworker that no, you couldn't do them a "quick favor". you have felt bad about that ever since. sure, it would have made you work late and it would have been extra stress - but you feel bad about it nevertheless.

you tell your therapist you have been leaning into evil. she asks what that means. when you tell her: sometimes i prioritize my own needs, she doesn't find it funny. she looks at you a long time.

"and that's evil?" she clarifies.

"well," you say. "feels evil to me."

[meowpupp]

link to the og masterlist

──────

price is one of the more subtle ones. always looking out for you, always caring. he brings you coffee on late nights and sets up a little desk in his office for you. he always keeps you close, making sure you're comfortable.

price is touchy, but only enough to be slightly questionable. a hand on your shoulder that drifts up to the back of your neck, all while he praises you for being such a hard worker. he deliberately makes his voice lower and growly, loving the shivers that run through your body. he teases you in ways that arent entirely obvious, toying with you like a cat with its prey.

and those especially late nights? when the two of you are all alone, well into the 'ams'? he can't resist being a little bolder. standing behind you, squeezing your hips, your waist, your thighs.

he pulls your ass back against him, giving into his most perverted urges. all while nosing your neck, breath brushing the back of your neck as he speaks, “so pretty... tell me sweetheart, know how fucking lucky he is?"

it's the little whine you make, all too flustered by the musky, masculine scent of his cologne, feeling too overwhelmed to respond. your little shaky voice makes the tent in his pants harder and harder, pressing firmly into against you.

price can't help himself, finally giving in, his hand sliding down your tummy, slipping into your pants. his other arm wraps around your waist, corded muscle keeping you pinned flat. you can feel each ridge and bump of his muscle behind you, how easily he could bend you over the desk, take whatever he wants.

he doesn't touch you fully, not yet, just grazing his fingers over the band of your panties. his touch is torturous, slowly descending down, fingers light and teasing as they press over your swollen clit. “tell me… does he make you this wet? this desperate?” he laughs, condescending and breathy, "can he even make you cum doll?"

[gatinhopeludo]

girls i hate my father

[moonliteve]

you have your father's eyes

[p0is0nprincess]

[crowsgrudge]

kayne: what kind of great old one calls himself fucking john

john:

[crunchysocklover]

the girls that get it, get it

[dysphoresque]

being touch-starved [mother issues] and being touch-repulsed [father issues] at the same time

[rayehehe]

[cherisigloo]

issues got so bad i had to talk to middle aged men online

[pzuppypaw]

I NEED this in my life older men just do it better tbh

[green--tea-owo]

[pawnshopbabe]

[silence-ofdeath]

“I am alone with my own thoughts and it’s dangerous.”

-cress

[tojisun]

non-sexual praises is so, ironically, sexy!!

the way toji would push your hair away from your face to press a kiss on your forehead before mumbling, “i’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” after you told him what happened today at work or at your class, the achievement bright in your eyes and uncontainable in your chest.

or the way toji would cup your jaw and gently rub at the skin just under your eyes, whispering, “you’re so good to me.” his voice is wobbly from fever, his tan skin blooming even redder, and your nose scrunches as you fight the tears because even a common flu could look frightening when it’s rendering the people you love into their weakest.

or the way toji would carry you in his arms, laughing, before pressing his face on the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, crooning, “my sweet girl” as he twirls the two of you in the kitchen, making do with the narrow space for the impromptu dancing.

or the way toji would point at you, his lips quirked in a wide smile, his eyes gazing at you in awe as if he couldn’t fathom the way you ended up in his arms, before saying, “there she is, my perfect darling,” when his friends asked where his girlfriend’s at, their teasing voices letting up at hearing the genuine love curling at toji’s voice.

lord, i need him desperately actually