#so they don't have to feel constant shame and guilt about it

[starblaster]

the replies on that post make me so sad. you can have issues with unsanitary things and still learn and accept very simple facts about bodily functions. you should be in-touch with your body, even with the ‘gross’ stuff it does.

[romanticintheory]

Hello!!!! I was wondering if you could write an angst with Ghost/Simon where the reader was too clingy after having a bad day and he lashed out on her but he didn't think anything of it because the next day the reader was acting normal. He only noticed after a few weeks when reader became more distant and quiet. Feel free to ignore if it's too weird or you don't like it!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

this one is dedicated to all the ones who were hurt and never got that apology. hope this alleviates the pain.

simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader || masterlist || request rules

-there was no one specific reason as to why today turned out to be a bad day. it just was.

-from accidentally burning yourself trying to make breakfast after waking up late to having to deal with the most insufferable customers, it just wasn't your day today.

-but it was okay, because you had simon to return to when everything was said and done.

-the frown on your face immediately softens the moment you see him walk through the door to your shared home. as soon as he pulls his mask and boots off, you make your way toward him and engulf him in a tight hug.

-you are painfully (but understandably) unaware of the thin veil of his patience and the frustration that had been brewing within him in the past few hours. he half-heartedly returns the embrace.

-"how was your day, si?" you ask him gently.

-"fine," he responds shortly, hoping there isn't more to the conversation.

-even after you pull away from him, you trail behind him as he moves around the house. this wasn't irregular behavior from either of you. simon wasn't usually the most talkative person in the room, anyway, but he loved to hear your voice. that was one of the things he loved about the two of you together; you filled the space he couldn't.

-today, though, was different. he was pissed off at all different kinds of people. for some reason, couldn't bring himself to tell you that he was having a bad day and needed some space, especially because it was evident you were having a bad one yourself.

-so when he turned on his heel after listening to your rambles for as much as he could take and lashed out at you, he tried not to think about the unbearable amount of guilt seeping into his veins.

-"would you just stop clinging to me for five minutes? god, 's like i can't get away from you or your constant fucking talking!"

-you had heard stories, mostly from simon, about the kind of man he could be when pushed to his limit. mostly, it was of violent, physical acts when it came to work or protecting the ones he loved. other times, he would tell you about when he'd lash out at others just like he did to you, now, and he always told it to you with a quiet fear. there was an unspoken meaning to him telling you about the times he's acted out: i don't want to do the same to you. i don't want to hurt you.

-but here he was, towering over you with a coldness in his eyes and a dryness in his throat from the sheer volume of his words.

-averting your gaze from his, you let out a meek, "'m sorry," and watch as he slams the door in front of your face.

-when he slinks into bed next to your sleeping form later that night, ridden with shame and guilt, he misses the tear-stained face hidden from him. after his outburst, you felt like all of the energy in your body had been taken away from you and retreated to bed early. you cried on and off for hours.

-you always thought you had a clinging problem. it was an insecurity you carried with you starting from childhood. friends would become acquaintances and family would keep you at arms-length. after years of believing the issue was you, simon walked into your life and told you different.

-if you stopped talking because you thought he stopped listening and was uninterested, he'd always turn back to you and genuinely ask why you stopped talking. whenever you apologized for hugging him for too long or asking to spend time with him for the third time that week, he'd always tilt his head at you and say in that low, sincere voice, "but i love you?"

-for all those reasons, you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt despite how much he hurt you. so, when he tries to bring it up the next morning, you do your best to brush it off. he was having a bad day. that was all. no need to make a fuss.

-"listen, love," he calls to you as you pop your piece of toast out of the toaster. "about last night-"

-completely disregarding his words, you look at the clock and stuff your phone into your pocket. "it's fine. honestly, simon," you tell him with the best smile you could muster. "i'm gonna be late. i'll see you tonight."

-you were so adamant on getting out as quick as possible that simon had no time to respond. he thought to himself that maybe he was making a bigger deal out of it than you. maybe there were no hard feelings and you were completely fine. after all, he was always overly worried for you, anyway.

-so, when you came home, he didn't mention it. it was as if last night didn't happen, and the two of you were perfectly fine. there were times where simon thought you were being a bit more restrained in your movements or words, but he tried to chalk it up to just him being overly paranoid. you said it was fine, so it was better not to push you on it, right?

-at first, you were doing really good at keeping yourself from overthinking the situation. however, as time went on and you paid more attention to how you acted around your boyfriend, you began to wonder if you were really that clingy.

-as the week progressed, your state of mind would deteriorate. what if it wasn't just a bad day? what if that was what he thought the entire time and was just waiting for the right moment to tell you? had he just been trying to cheer you up about your insecurities the entire time? and if he was, how much of this relationship was even real, then?

-the more you thought about it, the more distant you became. the last thing you wanted to do was make simon feel like he was being suffocated by you. you slowly stopped initiating physical affection with him, restricted talking about your day to a few sentences, and tried to answer simon's questions in one word when possible.

-he notices. of course he notices, it was like a stranger was living where you were supposed to be, and he missed it. he missed you.

-he asks you about your change when you're getting ready for bed, pulling the rest of your nightshirt over your head. despite being exhausted from work and looking like you were sitting out in the wind, he thought you never looked more ethereal than you did now.

-"(y/n)," he said.

-"hm?" you hummed to him, not turning toward his direction. you sat down on the edge of your side of the bed, turning off the lamp at the same time.

-your lack of emotional presence was starting to eat at him. he sat down next to you, the mattress dipping beneath his weight and forcing you to lean toward him.

-"you alright?"

-"yes. why?"

-"i dunno, you just seem..." his eyes tried to find yours, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze. "quiet."

-it was then that you looked at him, and it was scary to simon because he couldn't make out the emotion in your expression. there was nothing he could read.

-"isn't that-" you had to pause to try and stabilize your wavering voice. "isn't that what you wanted?"

-there was a tension-filled silence that settled in the room, and for a second you were worried that what you said was somehow incredibly offensive.

-finally, he chokes out, "i'm sorry."

-again, you try to muster up a smile. "it's fine, i already told you. i should've known you wanted space."

-"no."

-"no?"

-"it was my fault," he explains. "how could you 'ave known? i didn't tell you i wasn't in the mood that day, and that's not even considering the way i talked to you. i shouldn't have- nothing excuses what i said to you."

-still, you were convinced you were to blame. "well, i have a history of being clingy, so," you were trying to come up with more excuses for him. for most of your life, you had decided that you were the issue. it couldn't be any other way, right?

-"i know. it's one of the things i love you for," he says quietly. "not to sound cheesy but it's what makes you you, and i don't want you to lose that jus' 'cause i'm still shitty at communication."

-you knew in some capacity he was right. there was no excuse for how he talked to you, but the next words you wanted to say evaded you.

-simon thought about talking some more. instead, he grasped your back with one hand and slid his other underneath your legs, repositioning you on his lap. it was like a silent plea from him, a way of proving that he wanted to be close to you just as much as you wanted to be close to him.

-"you're sure i'm not too clingy?" you ask tentatively.

-"positive," he reassures you, rubbing small circles on your back with his thumb. "you wanna know something?"

-"what?"

-"if i wasn't so fucked up-"

-"you're not fucked up."

-"right." you never let him talk badly about himself. that was something he was still getting used to after all this time. being loved and learning to love himself. "well, if i didn't grow up the way i did and became the person i am, i'd probably be way clingier than you."

-"that's impossible," you deny, unconsciously letting yourself lean into his touch.

-"you don't know how much i want you. if my mind and body would let me, i'd be close to you all the time, showing you the attention you deserve."

-"you give me plenty."

-"agree to disagree," he stops with the circles and pulls you impossibly closer to his body. "but 'm trying. 'm trying to learn to let you love me and to not be afraid to love you. 'm sorry, love. i stopped trying that night, and i think it'll be the death of me."

-you let his words sink in, a thoughtful look on your face.

-"next time you'll tell me, right? what you're thinking?"

-"pinkie promise," he agrees, letting the hand under your legs slide out and raise his pinkie finger toward you.

-in return, you link your pinkie with his to seal the promise, and it feels as though the heavy tension in the air has cleared away.

-"i love you," he says, feeling bold from his previous admission.

-"i love you, too." there's that smile on your face. he never realized until now how he probably couldn't live without it.

-he kisses you on the lips, and for a moment the two of you just stay there in each other's arms, forgiving the past, healing the present, and dreaming of the future together.

[teaboot]

While I'm happy that the word "gaslighting" is more known than it used to be, and that people at large are learning to recognize what it looks like, I feel like we need to be careful not to turn it into something soft and casual we throw around off the cuff without meaning.

Being gaslit is psychological abuse that fucks you up very badly, very slowly, at such a gradual pace that you don't usually know it's happening until it's already re-wired your brain.

If you're unfamiliar with the term, "to gaslight" is to intentionally persuade someone that they cannot trust their own perceptions of reality. It's a destabilizing form of manipulation that leaves you constantly anxious, off-balanced, confused, and dependant on others.

This is done by lying about events that have happened or about things that are happening, invalidating feelings and observations, and either denying, refusing to acknowledge, or deflecting away from hard facts.

As someone who has experienced gaslighting as a form of abuse, this is what I remember from when I didn't know anything was off:

"Oh, I must have forgotten what really happened."

"I'm just not seeing it from their point of view."

"Everyone has their ups and downs. This is normal."

"I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was doing."

"I must have been wrong."

This is what I remember from when I first started realizing something was weird:

"How come every time I'm convinced they did something wrong, they just talk to me a few minutes, and I end up asking for their forgiveness? What has me so convinced I was right in the first moment?"

"I should start writing things down when they happen, so I can go back and check later when I'm confused."

"If every relationship like ours (familial, romantic, platonic) works this way, how come I never hear about it, or read about it, or see it anywhere else?"

Getting out and adjusting to the real world is hard, too, and comes with rapid swings of unfounded guilt, shame, fear, anxiety, and self-deprication that are completely unfounded in reality.

You've been conditioned to believe that you are entirely helpless and unable to think for yourself, possibly "crazy" or otherwise fundamentally impaired, and that there is a singular source of guidance that knows exactly what is right, and all of a sudden that pillar of support has vanished.

The immediate "after" that I recall looks like:

Constant uncertainty. Because nobody is there to tell you what's real and what isn't, you approach every situation thinking at it from all angles. Every question has fifty possible answers and most of them are wrong and you don't know which. If you choose wrong, the world will end.

A sense of helplessness. You feel that nothing you do is correct, and it's easier to make no choices at all- or you make wild, reckless, impulsive choices, because you feel you have nothing to lose.

Memory loss. I don't understand this one, but it's not like memoriescare being erased, but more like... you're so used to treating your memories as dreams or imaginations that you reflexively dismiss anything you recall as fake, and you can't believe anything you recall because you don't think it was real. Your abusers voice is in your head, wiping things away and telling you that you did the wrong thing. And you believe them, because they're the only constant you can rely on.

Missing the abuser, or the abusive dynamic. Because you know now that it wasn't healthy, but at least you knew where you stood. As long as you said the right things and acted the right way, agreed and obeyed and did as they expected, you felt like thevworld made sense. Now you have to figure out which parts of you really are broken, and which parts are working fine in a really weird way, and it's like tuning a piano when you've never played one before.

The long term "after"- for which I can only speak for myself- looks like:

Having to double-check, triple-check, and continue checking hard evidence of an event before responding in an active way.

Consulting with trusted friends to verify that your observations are legitimate and that your perceptions are valid. Following up with them to see if someone is really angry at you, or if you're just projecting anger onto them because it's what makes sense to your old pattern.

Obsessive collection of "evidence"- saving pictures, writing detailed journals, making recordings and video, never deleting emails or old texts, because you still don't quite trust yourself all the way and you're afraid that someone will cause you to doubt yourself again.

Continued self-doubt and being "gullible": I have straight up seen people flip me off to my face in front of witnesses and then immediately tell me, "No, I was just waving", and my first instinct is to believe them. For a few seconds, I *really do* believe them. Your brain is so trained to latch onto what people tell you to believe that its really, really hard to hold onto information that you already have.

Learning to take ownership over your own actions. (I didn't mess up because I'm "crazy", I messed up because I'm a person and people do that.)

Instinctively seeking approval. (Takes a lot of work to remind myself that I don't exit to make people happy, and that some people suck ass, and I can tell them to piss off.)

I don't intend to invalidate anyone currently struggling with this- if you feel that something is wrong, it probably is. That's the thought that got me out. Trust that feeling that something isn't right.

I just want people who don't know what to look for to know what gaslighting *actually* looks and feels like, so they don't just roll their eyes and think, "Oh, that word doesnt apply to me- I'm not some snowflake".

('Cause we all saw what happened with "triggered", right?)

[annaesterella]

Heyo!! Here is part two of “Don't be Silly, I would never be a Wayne”

I'm sorry if is not good, I just like to write 😞😞

LET'S GOOO

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. ☆

Mentions of: murderous thoughts, crimes (huahaha) Bat-family going crazy and spiraling into paranoia and Delulu

“Don't be silly, I would never be a Wayne.”

Well, here you are now.. finally, someone in your house, with people who want to chat with you! You can hangout with your family now.. finally home. No more school recitals than anyone but Alfred went to, and even then few times, but he wasn't that guilty. No more Father's Day presentations with an empty chair, no more jokes that fall on deaf ears, no more neglect for your feelings, no more chasing after crumbs. You would never crawl for crumbs again. You felt like you might cry, not with sadness but with joy, as you hugged the bearded man, and then he appeared... "Mr. Joie nocturne" Your uncle.. you ran towards him, hugging him as you smiled, being spun around in his arms, as your new family watched the scene unfold happily. Everyone happy, even if they weren't exactly the good guys, all that matters is that you have a happy family.. everyone happy except the Bats..

Once in the mansion, a spiral of anger surrounded them, especially the bat, who even though he was against violence, he couldn't shake that constant thought of ending that circus, fire. They took his daughter, she must have been so scared, but she accepted, after all, they were her mother's family, but he was going to save her at some point... she was as grown up, as beautiful as her mother.. is a shame things ended like that.. It's a shame he didn't find her sooner, he could have... no... he wouldn't have done anything... and that only made him burn with more hatred, blaming himself and the circus... him for losing his daughter, and the circus for finding her. But it would end soon... she would return home. Meanwhile, Dick was thinking about how everything unfolded, how they lost his little sister so easily to a half-assed circus, but still, he knew they had a percentage of blame... Still..Why them?? They didn't even see her until what? A few weeks? Hatred consumed him too, as he thought about how to end it, how to convince them that they were bad... BINGO he could blame them for stealing the belongings, she would believe it and loathe that circus, and then she would go back to the comfort of her stable home, with her father and her brothers, with Alfred, all happy, and the members of that stupid circus in jail... where they would die because some criminal killed them.. perfect.

Tim and Babs, after hearing the plan, started working on finding everything they could about the Circus, the others members of the family went to see by their selfs what they meant by "Circus" and like the others, they did feel a pang of anger for Y/N exchanging them for a circus family... but still, the guilt was also present, they had to make up for the lost time. Of course she would forgive them, she always wanted more time with them, it just wasn't given when she wanted it, but she would receive compensation for that lost time, of course. What idiots.

You were getting ready for another show, until you heard a knock on your dressing room door, thinking it was a member of the circus, you opened it smiling, while putting on your gloves. Just to see the bats, of course, like citizens, all entering their dressing room, thinking they had that right. You raised your eyebrows, finding it disrespectful, you frowned, but of course they didn't mind.

: — First of all.. excuse me? Second of all, what this means?

Damian, being sure you would understand, raised his hand and said loudly, without a care in the world, while pointing to the door

Damian: — Your "family" are responsible for the theft of last night's belongings

You frowned, and clenched your fists tightly, shaking, as you lowered your head. You took a deep breath as you looked at the dressing room door, then looked at them, who seemed to be waiting for your reaction.

: — Get out. Now. What were you expecting me to do? Believe you? I know them better than you guys do.. don't you dare call MY FAMILY thieves

You questioned, as you stamped your foot angrily, and soon heard the footsteps towards your dressing room. He looked at them, who stood up defensively.

Dick: — Bunny, they are criminals.. you need to come with us! They are not good people, leave this magic nonsense behind, it will not give you a future.

You felt the tears in your eyes, as he widened his eyes, trying to explain himself, you opened the door, frowning, as tears ran down your cheeks. It was like a portrait of your mother at that moment, then, your uncle was on the door, asking about the noise. You just stayed silent, before hugging him. Sobbing in your arms, as your new family gathered around, hugging you, making the bats uncomfortable... you never ran to their arms like that. That was just the beginning... they hadn't lost yet... but still, feeling defeated, they left the dressing room, leaving you destroyed as always...

That night's show was canceled, and that was enough for the guilt to consume them... they needed to get rid of that circus as quickly as possible. What I was feeling most at that moment was Dick, after all.. He was the one who made you cry, he despised your story, your biggest passion and indirectly your mother, but he would make it up to you. He would ask Bruce to buy a magical institute if necessary, then, Suddenly, a pop was heard from the circus, followed by a bright purple light. They ran inside, and now they saw the truth... those freaks weren't the main thieves, you were. Again the despair was in the Circus, once again you and your troupe of freaks were gone, leaving only the children with their belongings. They corrupted you, left you dirty with villainy, and you needed to be cleansed again.

Now, at the back of the circus, you and your family were laughing, while looking at the boxes with the belongings. But the joy was soon dashed when they saw the bats, quickly descending towards the house. You quickly started doing some magic tricks, the main one being your Winchester, pointed towards them. You saw the pity, the guilt, but mainly the anger in their eyes, you see it. You sent your family away, coming face to face with them, while pointing the gun directly at the bat. You, his daughter, the man who swore not to use weapons, abhorred the use of them, pointing one at him. He got closer and closer, while the circus disappeared behind him, but still, your family didn't leave you, they slowly appeared behind you.

: — Hello Batman.. finally discovered the truth or are you here to ask me to return "Home" again?

Batman: — Y/N, please.. they aren't your family, the Wayne's are!

Nightwing: — They turned you into a villain

*BANG* It echoed through the space, you just shot to his side, eyes flashing with anger as you felt your uncle's hand on your shoulder.

: — Don't be silly.. I would never be a Wayne!

You said while laughing, ready to shot again, playin with the gun, before turning it into one of those silly wands, pointing it at them.

: — I am a Joie nocturne, now, I know how you guys work, soo.. let's turn a blind eye to all this bullshit.. after all, we will be leaving Tomorrow.

Their eyes widened, as they clenched their fists, they sighed, and walked closer, soon you heard something behind you. No longer your uncle, or your family, but Alfred, sighing sadly, before hugging you and then feeling a needle in your neck.

Alfred: — I'm sorry Master Y/N..

You only heard your name being shouted, followed by sounds of fighting, before your eyes became completely heavy, and then, darkness embraced you. Maybe, like your mother, you would turn into a spell.. and vanish

[soapoet]

What makes you different...

...from their previous partners?

requested by anon.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Your person has been through it, and you may have too, which for many of you forms a deep understanding regarding fears of repeating the type of betrayal you have both seen. In comparison to their past rendezvous, they find your relationship very secure. They feel free to voice their thoughts and feelings without guilt or shame, or outright fear of retaliation as they've grown to expect misunderstandings and gaslighting. For many, they have been cheated on, so your honesty, integrity, and loyalty sets you apart from their prior experiences.

I see them taken aback quite often. Their previous relations may have trained them to always anticipate the worst, so the clarity in your communication and how you handle conflict takes them by surprise. They're used to shouting matches and slamming doors. You express yourself when you are hurt in ways that does not tear them down. There's no eye for an eye with you because you're not as spiteful as their past lovers. Really, they simply put don't need to fear you.

They could have remnants of a jealous streak, though it transforms into a protective nature over time as they come to find that they truly can trust you. You play no games made for them to lose, and you do not go out of your way to cause them jealousy or fear the end of the relationship. You're understanding even when you air your grievances, and wish to solve problems rather than create new ones and make it worse and make them regretful they every said anything at all.

They feel safe to allow you much further into their internal world than others before you because you are respectful of what lies beyond the surface and beyond. You're neither judgemental or cruel, petty, and neither are you a bully. The way the two of you are able to relate to each other's history and defining moments inspires an unspoken promise to keep each other safe, and never trespass against boundaries or breaking any agreed upon rules.

Passion, they'll find, holds hands with love, not just with hate. They find your unquenchable thirst and will to engage with and pursue your desires intoxicating. You inspire them where others have knocked them down or ridiculed them. You encourage their passion and make them feel appreciated, even admired. Others have forced them to turn cold, but you reignite their emotional expression, awakening it from its hibernation so that it may come out to play in your spring weather.

02.

Your person has often resorted to selective hearing just to keep themselves both calm and sane. Friends and family would tell them frequently how poorly they choose their partners. They are not quite certain how or why they wound up repeating patterns in the past. Acting on impatience infused impulse they would take prospective partners at face value and believe their facades, exaggerations, and lies. Then before they'd know it, they'd find themselves in commitment with someone falling short of their ideals and what they thought they were signing themselves up for based on promising beginnings which quickly turned sour.

I see them in the past dealing with people first seemingly so deserving of worshipping, only for the tune to change to simply entitled and bratty very quickly. You are clear in your expectations and standards, but you're not loud in your demands, and to them it is refreshing that you rarely make them. This causes them to really take the demands you do make to heart and try to give you what you want or need, or try in earnest to find compromise where needed. After so many partners chewing them out and complaining about this and that at a constant flow of negativity, you're a shocking change of pace.

You're not needlessly argumentative and choose your battles wisely. They're used to practically carrying their partners away from conflict and praying to higher beings they won't even start when they'd just like a peaceful outing or a nice afternoon. The only drama you bring to the table is gossip shared for the two of you to joke about together like best friends, not the kind where they are expected to end fights you started.

By comparison to past lovers, you are mature and ooze worthiness, the kind you don't need to be so loud about. What comes to mind is the demands of princess treatment vs. earning queen treatment. Their past is full of rather immature partners who rarely pursued their own goals, and your ambition, self awareness and sense of self worth rather than ego and chasing empty applause makes them view you as an equal who is truly worth their time, money, effort, and devotion. You're on the same wavelength and it makes the whole power couple thing come so much more naturally.

Not to mention you're much better received by their friends and family. They really have no concerns about bringing you home to meet their family because they know how you carry yourself with grace, and how your charm is genuine. You're very natural and likeable, and don't try too hard. Loved ones may very quickly tell them not to screw this up, and make sure you're always comfortable and feel welcome in their homes, and begin nudging your person very early on to put a ring on it.

03.

Your person has very little experience before you, possibly none for some, at least nothing serious enough to write home about. You fit their idea of love very well, however, and they can feel surprised by how well things go with you. They've heard horror stories from friends and read the reddit posts about wildly tumultuous relationships, and be shocked by their first serious relationship with you.

It's just so easy. You compete only with their solitude, and always seem to win. They find themselves at peace with you more than they ever expected to when sharing so much time and space with another. Things weren't supposed to work out so well in this day and age, and the romcoms were exaggerations, right? Yet they find your relationship so sweet, and stable in its simplicity.

They have a past with some kind of toxicity aimed at them. For some this is family, for others it's a friend. Either way they've been used to making themselves small and to take on burdens of others by force. Emotional labour performed with a gun to their head. They have no qualms about caring for you, and are in fact more than happy to be at your beck and call because you're encouraging of them too. It's quite sad to say, but it seems that either in their family or amongst their peers they've often wound up with a target on their back solely for, well, being an easy target.

You help them stand up for themself, and help them overcome a lot of things which cause them anxiety. They're able to share their thoughts and feelings, express their excitement about their interests and feel heard when they're with you. You may very well share quite a few interests in common, which to them is an entirely new concept as they're used to others finding their interests dumb, childish, or useless. You seem to make equally amazing friends and lovers.

They're very clever and you're one of the first to give them credit for it. You're able to gently coax them out of their shell, and their otherwise cautious nature shifts to a more adventurous and daring one. And this all by no means require great efforts on your part, as by simply being your usual self makes them feel safe enough to be themselves too. You're quite similar in many ways, though you differ in how you come to the same conclusions on different topics, and these variables are small but delightful surprises for the two of you to rejoice over and discuss. You're a very healing and brightening connection in their life, and as thanks they'd fetch you the moon if they could.

04.

There is a lot of chemistry between you and your person, much more than they have experienced in previous relationships. That's not to say they have necessarily all been bad, they just lacked this kind of easy yet electrifying, "meeting of the minds" -type of chemistry. Their past lovers have been drama-free and they've enjoyed very stable relationships, albeit very milquetoast in comparison to you and the relationship you provide. Don't take this the wrong way, but they dated "perfect" long enough to realise it is merely good enough, and you with your various hiccups are more interesting and much more worth their attention. Imperfections are needed and challenges are opportunities to strengthen bonds in ways "perfect" cannot.

Though many of their previous partners have, like they themself, been stable and secure, they have also felt taken for granted, and in some instances, taken advantage of. They're a very reliable and caring person, but have not always had the best luck in terms of finding reciprocal love. More often than not, affections quickly grew monotonous and became routine, leaving them under the impression that love is just that, routine. Gifts and attention easily grew to be something expected of them rather than something truly appreciated and met with gratituse and adoration.

They're dutiful in all areas of life, but find a new pep in their step regarding their romantic duties thanks to you. They find you delightful and full of surprises. The latter being something they perhaps thought was a bad thing for a long time. You keep them on their toes a little. Enough to excite them and keep the sparks flying, but not to the point of making them nauseous. You're different from them, and as they previously dated people much too similar to themself, you're a welcome breath of fresh air, like coming face to face with the sea and its breeze for the first time.

They feel a sense of freedom with you that they never found in their past relationships. Sometimes they may have walked on eggshells, but most of all I see them often turning into a shell of their true self. In their pursuit to stick to a comfortable routine and not upset their previous partners with anything too wild or crazy, they held back on things they wanted, and put running the day to day smoothly above their own interests and whims. Through you they reconnect with these things, and you inspire them to reach for new opportunities and tap into their slumbering zest for life.

The nostalgia you evoke by merely daring to stay true to yourself, speaking your mind and pursuing your own adventures makes their efforts of creating stability in your relationship actually feel worthwhile and welcome. You fascinate them, and every day they learn something new about or through you, which makes them feel more alive. They find themselves reminiscing about how they used to be before, until they slowly take their power back and align more with their true self. Their attraction to you never seems to dull down and they more readily show their appreciation and love for you. You inspire a greater sense of romance in them, and have them thinking very differently about love. Where they previously had their linear idea of how a relationship progresses, they suddenly take more risks and stop thinking about things so meticulously and leave some things up to chance. Where once they would've waited 5 years to propose, they no longer feel the need for these arbitrary and restrictive milestones and simply propose when it feels right.

05.

Your person is quite the whirlwind. They've explored many options in love and life, or at the very least had plenty of offers. None of them ever fit quite right, though, and many may have accused them of being too picky or unreliable due to their flighty nature. You're more akin to them, and balanced in all the right places to match their energy. There is a healthy kind of push and pull between you which keeps things interesting in the long run. Many before you have been demanding in terms of commitment and how that commitment is supposed to look like, and how and when things are meant to unfold. Your love isn't like clockwork, and though you have your ideas and hopes for the future of the relationship, you don't make demands and nag them down to the bone when things don't happen on your schedule.

This actually leaves room for their spontaneity, and keeps their interest alive and well, inspiring them to take bigger leaps in love precisely because restraints don't weigh them down. Others before you have been a little too predictable for them. The scheduling types with their plethora of to-do lists and colour coded planners which only makes them anxious and has them running for the hills. You're willing to explore and experience life, and they appreciate your willingness to at least give things a try, even when you're scared or uncertain.

This isn't to say they would push you beyond your limits or cross boundaries. They've simply dealt with a lot of naysayers and those who are never up to the challenge and would rather not invest their time or energy into something unknown. Unlike those before you, you take a bite of that unfamiliar food, agree to watch the pilot of that show, or pack a weekend bag on short notice to get out of town for an impromptu getaway.

Best of all, when you don't wish to leave your comfort zone you allow them the freedom to venture out on their own, without guilt tripping them into staying or blowing up their phone when they're away, freaking out when they don't respond immediately, or otherwise make their free spirit out to be the worst thing in the world. They return the same energy to you and have no qualms about your individual pursuits and are very encouraging of your prospects, opportunities, and ideas.

I see them watching you sometimes as you engage excitedly with something new that's caught your interest, and they wonder why your kind is so rare. From their perspective, as an eternal seeker, they've met and mingled with so many people, and few have truly been so excitable, finding joy in small things and not being so afraid of the unknown and unexplored. Your aversion of uncertainty and change is healthy, not the kind that immediately loses its marbles and makes mere suggestions out to be a big and horrid deal that threatens to ruin the day. They really revel in the trust that you have in them, which in turn makes them choose to be deserving of that trust every day.

06.

Soapy scribbles: If you're not in the right head space to hear mentions of abuse and trauma, I encourage you to leave this reading for another time. Take good care of yourself, ok? ♡

This one is heavy. Your person has a difficult history with abuse and addiction. Their previous lovers have been unstable and caused them a lot of grief. You're the polar opposite of their previous entanglements, and they are in awe of the fact something so gentle could touch their heart. For a long time they may have blamed themselves and thought they deserved these bad memories. They're hard on themselves and have a lot of guilt and shame for their past mistakes, and may have taken their past abuse as punishment they deserved. Of course they are wrong, and you help them see this.

You allow them room to grow. You're patient where others have given up on them or turned to verbal or even physical harm against them when they haven't performed quite to the standards set upon them. They may genuinely be shaken by your genuine kindness towards them and wonder what they did right to find an end to their darkness.

I must honestly say that I view their previous partners very poorly. You couldn't be more different than what they have seen before you came into their life. The difference is like night and day. You do not keep them walking on eggshells and do not shift from peace to war at the drop of a hat. You're generous with your time and you're understanding of their scars. They need not hide their pain from you lest you would use it against them.

Your presence in their life rewires so many things that were previously all tangled up by others before you. They're able to safely work out their difficulties and face their fears with you by their side. They take your advice and apply it knowing that they can trust you. You may fear dependency, but really I'm seeing them growing whole within themselves by your influence and becoming stronger and more independent as a result of your connection. It's much akin to a phoenix rising from the ashes. Like you found faintly glowing embers in the dark, stuck around quietly watching, and got a fiercly loyal and protective beast for seemingly just being a good person.

They're inspired by your own resilience and strength. Many of you may have been through very dark nights and dying embers too, and your survival story helps motivate them to pursue happiness as something they, too, deserve, and will do anything to return this favour to you for the stability you provided them when they needed it the most.

[panlight]

so why don't you think jazz feels the other cullen's thirst?? he's an empath right? can you make me anon?

With the usual caveat of everyone should read and write the fanfic they like and characters are up to personal interpretation. . . I don't buy the 'Jasper feels everyone's thirst' argument for the following reasons:

Jasper deals with emotions. Thirst is a biological drive, a physical sensation. I don't think there's anything about how Jasper's gift is described to work in canon that suggests he's feeling anyone else's physical pain, thirst or otherwise. Fear, happiness, self-doubt, anger, hate, love, yes yes yes. Emotional pain? Sure. Thirst, hunger, heat, cold? No.

In Midnight Sun, Edward experiences JASPER's thirst, not the other way around: "This was all quite normal, usually easy to ignore. It was harder just now, with the feelings stronger, doubled, as I monitored Jasper’s reaction. Twin thirsts, rather than just mine." And that makes sense to me? Because Edward's gift is literally getting into someone's head, experiencing the world as they are experiencing it in that moment. Jasper's not in your head. He feels what you feel but he doesn't know the why. He's not a mind reader. He knows you're feeling desperate and ashamed and maybe guesses, "someone smells good, huh?" but he doesn't know, IMO.

Here's my biggest hurdle, though: I can't understand how Jasper would have been an effective second in command to Maria if he were feeling all the newborns' thirsts all the time! I get that the Cullens have a self-denial thing going on and may be 'thirstier' than the average mature vampire, but surely being surrounded by dozens of ravenous newborns would be worse? How would he be able to concentrate, to train, to fight, to survive, during all that if he were experiencing newborn-levels of thirst times 10, 20, whatever all the time? Jasper says in Eclipse that HATE was his constant companion, not thirst. He also says in Eclipse that being with the Cullens is a climate he enjoys; if he were being tortured by six other thirsts, I tend to doubt he'd enjoy it. 

I think it's just more INTERESTING if this isn't the problem! It's more interesting if he's just bad at it. Giving him the excuse of "well he can't help it he has to feel all the other thirsts" is boring to me. I LIKE him being bad at it! I like the idea that he's not totally sold on the whole Cullen thing, that he's doing this for Alice, that he has bad habits from Maria, that maybe he's intellectually fine with eating humans and but forced to grapple with it emotionally because he has to feel the emotions of those he's killing . . . THAT's more interesting to me than making excuses for him. Of course, your mileage may vary there! This one is totally subjective!

I will concede that he may feel emotions related to thirst. Shame, guilt, anger, desire, whatever, and that could be distracting and make self-control a bit more difficult. But I don't think it's literally the thirst (as in physical thirst/pain) and I don't think it's the root of the problem given that he was able to function as a leader during his time with Maria and wasn't driven to distraction by the ravenous thirsts of dozens of newborns. 

You may now all return to proving me wrong on my own polls as I die fruitlessly upon my lonely hill. 🪦

[sunny-mercya]

Childs Guilt

Shikamaru Nara x Male Reader

Fandom -> Naruto

Masterlist

You hadn't been feeling well these past weeks already—stomach cramps, aching muscles, nagging hammering headaches, nausea, constant fatigue and slight waves of fever—though this week it had gotten visibly worse and once you had coughed out some blood and collapsed right after getting out of bed, Shikamaru had brought you into the hospital right away.

Sakura had checked you over and came to the conclusion, that your already broken seal—with the much heavyweight additional stress of being a parent, which Sakura could relate herself all too well with it—continues, which shouldn't even be happening in the first place, to take more damage and breaking completely down now.

Your body—more like your chakra core and mind, which can't process, without redeeming help of medical jujutsu (with by the current look of your seal, is probably too late to use) or specific sealing techniques—responds with signals of pain, trying to mend this sort of “wound” on its own.

Knowing this, Shikamaru thought he could—albeit it might not be much seen as help—relieve you from some of the stress and do most, if not even all, of the housework chores for the time being till you're feeling remotely better (or finding a way to stop your seal from breaking apart completely).

So here Shikamaru was, sitting at the dining table with his son and waiting—after being forced to do so, albeit grumpy with you about it—for you to serve today's lunch.

Now, don't get him wrong, Shikamaru would have made gladly—without hesitation or shame, most men would feel when being asked to do what their more household staying spouse would do—today's lunch, just so you could stay in bed and getting the needed rest, but you insisted to do lunch yourself (half heartily jokingly threatening him with any of your Oni's—preferably Raikou it would have been).

»I can't just lay in bed all day and do nothing. And no, laundry doesn't count as doing something.« is what you had said to Shikamaru, when he found you—instead of either laying in bed or the couch as you should and how Sakura had advised you to do—standing in the kitchen, hunched over the counters (a visibly tremor in your legs and hands) and preparing lunch.

~~~•~~~

»Here you go, soya sauce chicken katsu!« you announced happily, serving the two plates—your own appetite had significantly gone down in your sick ridden phrase, still is and the few bites you took during the cooking, were more than enough, too much even, for your stomach—to your husband and son.

Shikamaru said his thanks and started to eat, while Shikadai only moved the chicken around on his plate with his chopsticks—looking rather grossed out by it.

»Are you not feeling well Shi?« worry etched across your face as it's one thing if you're sick, but another if your son is—maybe Shikadai had gotten a seasonal cold or a stomach bug is being passed around, perhaps he just feels more tired than usual.

»Don't ask me.« muttered Shikadai, slamming the chopsticks down onto the table.

»Shikadai.« Shikamaru warned his son, giving an admonitory glance.

Shikamaru—in contrast to your knowledge—knows from his friends firsthand, that most of their children (Boruto and Sarada specifically) seemed to be getting more and more into a angry rebellious mood against them—and now Shikadai, for whatever reasons, as well it seems.

»Stop acting as if you're my dad.«

»What do you mean?« your worry turned in confusion, not understanding what exactly Shikadai is trying to say here and why he's getting so heated.

»You're not my papa and neither are you a supposed mother! All you are is a Monster, which shouldn't even exist!«

You remain silent, a crestfallen expression of hurt etched onto your face, because you knew you're a monster—having called yourself that a few times, even with a slight proudness just to provoke and to make Naruto (one of your closest friends) not feel alone anymore—but it's something entirely different when your own son (or any other person you love and hold dear) calls you such as it equals—akin to a heartache—to a stab into the heart.

»Shikadai! That's enough!« Shikamaru raised his voice—never thought he ever needed to with his son—disapproval sternness in it, because such outbursting outrageous behaviour—towards you—was line crossing and not acceptable.

»I hate you! I hate you!«

Shikadai was shouting—the hatred crystal clear to hear in his voice—by now at this point, chair screeching backwards—falling back with a thud onto the floor—when he stood up abruptly, running out of the kitchen and slamming some doors—either the front door itself or the one towards the garden—shut.

Shikamaru, standing up as well—who, even now as a parent, had never been one for strictness or tight enclosed rules—had half a mind to follow his son and reprimanded him that such behaviour wasn't acceptable as it certainly crossed a line—and while there a things, hurtful words, which a Parent should never dared to utter to their child, so are there words a child should never say to their parents.

But Shikamaru didn't go after his son, not when you have called out for him in a hoarse whisper—cup of (f.drink) slipping from your already shaky hands and shattering down onto the ground into million shards.

Turning to you, the once disappointing up-flaring anger vanish right away and morphed into concern upon seeing your pale sweat glistening face and the way how you clutched your stomach—Shikamaru, with a few steps towards you, puts his arms around you in support and walks you into the living room towards the couch.

~~~•~~~

»......something is wrong....« you rasped out in pain, fearing yourself for the worst already—a lingering sense crawling through your mind of what's happening to you and it's one of the few things which sparked pure terrific fear in you.

»Let me have a look.« Shikamaru raised up your shirt—being thankful that you wore much easier clothing nowadays and not the complicated traditional clothes—and coming to an unpleasant sight.

Your stomach, where the seal of the Oni Demons had once been placed—as you're, through all these years and despite the Oni's being long counted as friends and family, still a Vessel—looked bloody raw, skin tearing itself apart and the sealing marks coming off in a purple stream.

»Shika.....I'm scared.....I–I don't want to lose them, not again....Please, Shika, please don't let me lose them.« tears welled up in your eyes, the fear—which pulls Shikamarus heartstrings in an ache—visibly pooling in them, ascending down your cheeks and upcoming sobs—which bubbles up in your throat—threaten to escape over your lips.

Shikamaru as he shushes you gently, telling you in a promise—believing, although with not much faith in it, your husband as he had barley broken a promise before—that everything will be alright again and how he will do everything possible to not let you lose Raikou and the others—rubs his hand, in a careful and comforting manner, over your stomach.

»C'mon, let's get you back to bed, love.« Shikamaru picks you up and carries you into the bedroom—laying you down onto the bed, pulling him down with you as well, having a tight grip on his shirt.

And Shikamaru let you, holding you close while you cried yourself into sleep—squirming in pain and berating yourself, for something you weren't at faults even.

~~~•~~~

It had been days later—when Konoha had been evacuated, after being attacked by some cult Ninjas (close to being a second Akatsuki group) and either leading almost all possible Shinobi's, with a false lead, away from the village or locking them into a Genjujutsu—that Shikadai started to regret.

Seeing you—his Papa—getting purposely stabbed by the enemy, in order to protect him and Inojin—while telling Konohamaru and Mirai (despite them saying you shouldn't fight as you're still not recovered) to stay with them in protection, while you took care (in your words) of that fucker—sparked a flame of crashing guilt in Shikadai.

Shikadai argued with his Uncle—after the enemy had admitted that they're actually after you and your Oni's and seeing how brutal the attacks (which sends you crashing into the ground a few times already) you're receiving are—how he needs to help his papa and starting to cry out in frustration, anger and fear, when Konohamaru holds him back.

They don't understand, they just don't seem to understand the immense guilt and fear Shikadai feels, because this fight could risk your life and Shikadai didn't want to lose his Papa—not when these hateful words he had shouted at you, would be your last memories of him.

What Shikadai had said, wasn't true—you're aren't a monster, but it took the summoning of Raikou and the other three Oni's (who not only grand him sole protection, but also the whole village and Shikadai realise the extent of how strong you really are) and you literally sacrificing yourself—out of loyalty and parental love—to make Shikadai understand.

All Shikadai wants was to apologise and telling you, how much he loves you and how thankful he is to have you as his Papa.

I'm Sorry.

[psyphigirl]

"May I See Her?"

TW: Immobility, Health Play, Hospital Setting, "Asphyxiation"

A person is admitted to the most advanced bariatric health center, where they must be subjected to constant and intense mechanical medical care

(I'm not sure the tw list is entirely exhaustive as I don't know how to define some of the things I wrote about. Please feel free to give any suggestions you feel I need to include!)

The doctor looked at me as though I had two heads, he just didn't understand the question.

"I- I don't know. There ... there isn't a lot left to see. You didn't really ... leave us with a lot ..."

I had weird mixed feelings about how he said that. Shame, guilt, fear ... pride, wonder, lust. What could they possibly have done to her?

"You can come in about 11.00 on Thursday morning, if you really do want to see her", he said flatly

"Thank you, Doctor. I'll be in then."

I hang up and sit back on my bed. I should really be getting to bed soon but I can't bear the thought of going to sleep just yet, so I go in to her old room. Just to remember her.

The room looks so much smaller without her in it. For the first time in years I can actually stand anywhere I want without fear of standing on her flesh or on a cable or tube she needs to function. The room's been stripped almost bare from the kit I used to tend to her. The oxygen pump is gone, the feeding tube has been retired, even the fridges have been wheeled away. I can see an almost perfect outline of her rear on the wall behind her, painted with sweat into the wallpaper. Her mattress is still here, it's been crushed to about a quarter of it's normal height after years of propping up a mass measured in metric tons.

I'm almost glad to see her in a proper care center: All this tech is ancient. Held together with tape and staples. It's a wonder it failed as infrequently as it did...

That's enough remembering for tonight

...

Beep beep beep

That's the alarm. Seven o'clock. Get up, get dressed, go to the kitchen. What's in the fridge? Not a lot. A dozen eggs and half a loaf of toast should be fine. I can fit two slices per slot in the four slot toaster and have them done in two minutes. I can fit three eggs in a pan per two pans. It takes five minutes to cook them and have them done in ten minutes. Hopefully I can have this done before she wakes up-

Oh.

I turn the stovetop off and unplug the toaster. For the first time in years I don't have to center my daily schedule around caring for my helpless other half. It takes about an hour to get to the hospital. So I have three hours to kill ... somehow

...

"Oh, it's you. It- She's right this way"

The doctor lead me down a corridor, with a sign above it reading "ICU". Is it that bad? It must be. I was lead all the way down to the end of the corridor. The very last door in the ICU of the most advanced bariatric care center the fattest country in the world has to offer. I really did a number on her.

"Now. I should warn you. She's very ... fragile. You just need to be careful. Do you understand?"

"Yes, doctor, I think so"

His mouth jerks to the side and he turns away from me. I could have sworn I heard him say "I'm sure"

He opens the door and I see her.

She's nothing more than a mound of flesh, decorated by a spidersweb of wires and tubes, moniters and dials.

"Jeez, doc. Is this all really necessary?"

He looks at me with a subtle and frightening rage, "Yes. If even one of these machines failed, or one of these cables disconnected," he looks almost disappointed, "She wouldn't last long."

I don't respond. All I can do is gawk at her.

"This one here, for example", He gestures to a machine containing a series of combustion pistons, "That's her heart. There's no way her actual heart can pump blood around the rest of her body without assistance."

He points to another one, a pair of pumps under a turbine, "Those are her lungs."

And another, "That's her liver. There's no machine in here that isn't essential to her continued survival. Her body just doesn't work anymore. Technically ... she ... isn't that person in the center of this room anymore. She's ..." He struggles to find his words for a minute, "She's pretty much the room itself"

I take a minute to comprehend what that means. I'm inside her. Staring at her bare soul

"Doctor," I inquire, "Could I be left alone with her for a little while?"

He looks right through me and approaches, "Her diet is automated. Don't think you can do any more damage"

He leaves heavyfooted and disgusted at what I did to her. I almost don't blame him

"Hi dear. Can you hear? It's me."

I wait. I get no response.

"I know you may resent, or even fear me. But you're safe now, love. I can do you no harm. Now that I say it out loud I'm even sure that's entirely true. If that's your lungs, then that tube must be intake. So which tube feeds you the oxygen? This one here? Next to my boot?"

Her heart beats visibly faster.

"That's a yes. What happens if I ..."

I lightly squish the thick clear plastic tube with my heel. The rhythm of the machinery is changed, tarnished even.

Her heart beats visibly faster again.

"I like that response. See it could be fear, couldn't it ..."

I press a little deeper

"Your mouth feels dry. Your temples feel tight. Your lungs, your real ones I mean, are burning. It hurts and you're afraid."

I press a little deeper

"Or maybe. Just maybe ..."

I connect my heel all the way to the floor

"It's lust?"

[honey-minded-hivemind]

❄Fallen Snow🩸 AU... From the Platonic Yanderes' Persepective:

(Warnings: Its the ❄Fallen Snow🩸 AU, so expect abuse, neglect, blood, and a whole lot of guilt. The platonic yans who knew Reader in the past weren't nice to them, and while they do get better, they didn't get better until AFTER they thought Reader had died... Viewer discretion is advised... Kurt, Kitty, Fred, Todd/Toad, and Lance joined AFTER Reader's "death"...)

• They don't think they'd always been that bad. That hateful. Awful. Horrible. Terrifying. Cruel. But whether they were or not... they'd turned into something they didn't even recognize, something that was a shameful, guilt-ridden part of their past.

• For the adults (The Professor, Storm, Mystique, Wolverine, Sabretooth, Magento, and Beast), Reader was... someone they acquired through odd means. They weren't the only one they had brought with them, as there were two others, similar to them, and all three were feral mutants. Yet somehow... compared to how the other children were, their "siblings" and the other kids, they didn't quite click. The kids (Scott, Jean, Evan, Rogue, Pietro, and Wanda) didn't like them much, either.. For both groups, perhaps it was how they talked about odd subjects, or was off in their own little world half the time. Maybe it was their forgiving nature, always smiling and trying to be nice no matter what they all said or did. Maybe it was because Reader was everything they had wanted for themselves, but had never been able to have, had never been able to be... Either way, it led to an annoyance. A dislike for them and their cheery voice and soft eyes.

• With the adults, they found Reader odd from the start. A child no older than five who, despite being an experiment, was not like their "siblings", nor like the other children they had on hand. They were... sweet. Cuddly. Someone who just kept trying and trying to get along and be friends with everyone. They didn't seem to have a mean bone in their body. It made them feel... weird. That they didn't seem to understand they were odd, that they weren't cared about all that much. How could they begin to? They were loud, they were persistent, they never seemed to want to be alone and didn't get what was wrong with the world. Not to mention all of the questions! They were irritated most of the time with them, tired of dealing with the steady stream of constant love and inquiries and attempts to hug them.

• Over the years, it was easier and easier to wear then down, to get them to shut up and stay out of the way. Reader didn't seem all that bright when it came to social cues or sarcasm or jokes or how the world really was, and the kids took every opportunity to poke at those. A few jokes here and there, whispers between each other when they were alone, practical jokes at Reader's expense. It was almost funny, watching them try so hard to understand what they were doing and getting all upset over it. Yet Reader never got angry. Hardly acted like a feral, hardly used any of their mutations to win, to protect themself. They made it so easy to mess with them. It was second nature for all of them to do so. To keep prodding and jabbing at their insecurities and lack of knowledge, earning snickers whenever there was more than one witnessing it. In the present, they all can't stop hating themselves over how they acted. How they were the reason they were gone. And how they weren't coming back. And it was all. Their. FAULT. And they couldn't change it, no matter what they did.

• Being the pseudo "siblings" to Reader made them targets, an easy mark (Laura Kinney/X-23 and Kyle Gibney/Wild Child). So they made it so they were the ones over Reader, the ones who were in control. The ones at the top of the heap. They didn't stick up for their "sibling", and they didn't intervene when the other kids messed with them. Why should they? They did it, too. Reader was at the bottom of the pecking order, be it with the kids or with the feral mutants in general. Just because they were a part of them didn't mean they'd stop. Didn't mean they'd coddle them or let their weakness rub off on them. Shoving them aside and staying away from them was natural for them. It wasn't their problem, and they weren't about to lose their own place just to help the most useless mutant they'd met. In the future, they'd wonder why they weren't more attached. Why couldn't they have stuck by their side, protecting them rather than shoving them into the deep end? Without Reader... where did that leave them? They were the only other one like them, someone who had tried to comfort them and befriend them, never caring if they got hurt in the process. Never holding their own shortcomings against them. And now they were gone, and it was awful, and they had one less pack member to run with.

• For the two older feral adults (Wolverine and Sabretooth) to teach Reader had been a task. They were someone who would rather hug someone than try to fight them, a kid who had to be told multiple times what to do, had to be walked through everything, and who seemed to fail almost every time when it came to being aggressive. Their annoyance ran deep, which turned to resentment, which turned to anger every time they saw them. How was THIS creature anywhere near related to them?! How was this thing even worthy of their powers? They were useless, pathetic, weak. They had some points when it came to strength and bite force, but that was a drop compared to the ocean of mistakes they'd made. The river of problems they were. Hating them didn't take much more. And how they'd hate this, looking back on it. They were monsters. There was no other way of saying it. It was their own fault, for pushing and forcing them and always yelling at them. Always letting their cub know what they thought of them, compared to the others. And they were left with a rotting, agonizing self-hatred for themselves. If they hadn't been so hard... If they hadn't been so cruel... Maybe their kid wouldn't have been dead, with no body to bury or mourn...

• No one was quite sure what led to the wounding of Reader. Perhaps it was a scalding lie, or pointing their fingers at each other until it eventually fell on them. Or maybe it was because they could blame it all on Reader, someone who couldn't defend themself and who no one cared if was punished. But when Reader had been dealt with... They were a different person. Someone who shook whenever the adults came by. Who kept away from the other kids with no prompting, walking the other way when they came by. They didn't speak unless they were asked a question, and they didn't look directly at anyone anymore. And their face... Where the skin was once smooth and unbroken, there were deep, rouge-stained gouges, a mark of their new change. It was welcome at first. Finally, they shut up and learned how they all felt. Until-

• They left.

• They left, in the dead of a snow-washed wintery night, leaving as fast as they could and not looking back. And a few of them pursued, chasing after Reader, who they knew was going to be in the largest load of trouble since two weeks ago, when they'd been taught their lesson. When they found them, they were at the edge of some rocks, a river close by and roaring below, and they all felt their ire grow. The adult/s demanded they come back, so they could be done with it. But Reader just stepped back, their arms folding up against their chest, eyes wide like a fawn caught by a predator. They'd demanded again, then again, yelling-

• CRACK!

• The rock fell out from under Reader, who screamed, high and terrified-

• And they were gone, swallowed by the raging waters below, bits of red and pink dotting the foam and surface, soon fading as the river roared on...

• Then suddenly... they weren't so angry anymore. For once, they felt... scared. Hollow. Horrified. It didn't matter when the adults ran over, checking over the remaining ledge and scanning the icy waves below, shouting loudly. It didn't matter when the kids who were with them peered around each other, trying to confirm what had just happened had actually happened. Nor did it matter when they searched the shores of the river and found nothing, save for a few pinkish bits of foam and shards of ice, carrying the scent of iron and frost. All that mattered was Reader was gone... And it was their fault. They had- they didn't mean- it was an acci- what- No matter what excuse they thought of or fleeting emotion they felt-

• Reader was DEAD. And they had no one to blame but themselves.

• The adults after that were... quiet. Sullen. Almost as though in a trance, like they were stuck on that night, like they couldn't get over the fact they saw one of their own kids just die right before their eyes. The kids weren't much better, trying to seek any comfort they could, whether they saw the death or learned it had happened. That winter was blistering cold, as though even the elements were numb and in disbelief.

• This was something they'd joked about... This was something that a few might have talked about... But now that it had actually come true... They didn't feel like laughing anymore. If anything, they felt like crying. Like curling up in a ball and disappearing from the world. This was- it was their fault, wasn't it? Thats what they all believe. If they'd reached out, or- or tried to befriend them, or maybe just treated them better, hugged them back once, they wouldn't have ran, and they wouldn't be frozen in the river, lost to the cold and quiet and night. But... maybe if they even HAD stopped them from running... who's to say they wouldn't have tried something else? If they thought they couldn't leave... would they have done something worse? Would they have actually-?! They feel sick thinking about it, throwing up when they can't stop themselves from imagining it. It's a nightmare, what they're living, and there is no waking up from it.

• The adults slowly start talking again, interacting with them and calling them all together... But according to them, they all... They all are going to try and be better. They say they never should have pushed them so hard, they never should have yelled or forced or neglected their emotional needs. That what they'd been doing before stops there, and it ends there. From now on, things are going to be different. And this time, they're going to learn from what happened. That no one is going to make the mistake they made again.

• They keep their word. The adults grow into caring, more loving figures. They listen to the kids, who turn to teens, and help them. If their views are different, they don't yell or roar or rage at them, don't force them to agree, they simply agree to disagree, and let them know they're there if they need to talk. If the ferals go into their instincts, instead of attacking each other or turning against the others of the facility, they go to a special room where they can simply go through their urges, cuddling together and trying not to cry or hurt themselves for what had happened. The teens become more understanding, caring individuals, being friends rather than foes, and help each other, staying careful of each other's feelings and boundaries. The adults are there, always trying to steer them away from danger, hugging them if they want it (even if they don't), fixing them food if they're hungry, playing games with them, and when they train, it's as a group, as a family, rather than as rivals stuck together.

• Somehow, about three years after Reader's death, a few of them had been exploring at a new area, where the river had run by. It's cold, being so close to it, and it still haunts their dreams, along with a blonde child with bright eyes... Yet one of them finds something, caught in the branches near an old den, sharp and thorny: A piece of cloth, tattered and withered by the wilds, but speckled with rusted brown... When they bring the tattered remnant back to their home, it's inspected, but when the adult ferals look it over... Their eyes go wide, and suddenly their sniffing it, soon looking at them and asking them in a desperate voice where they found it. The moment they say where it was, the entire group is called together to discuss something they haven't discussed in so long... The piece of cloth, it has Reader's scent... So there is the smallest, tiniest chance that... Reader might have survived, after all.

• It doesn't take any prompting for them to pull some of their team members together to form a group to investigate the area they found the shred of cloth, and to scout out the surrounding towns near it. If Reader did survive... they hopefully wouldn't have left the region. And if anyone had seen anything odd, such as a child with claws or a wet bedraggled cat of kid, they would likely remember it (and if they wouldn't share what they knew, they wouldn't mind threatening them to make sure they had every bit of information about it they knew).

• Searching the region, it's clear to see it is mostly desolate of human life, save for small towns hidden in valleys and forests, full of snow-capped trees and icy slicks of ice, flakes of snow falling down like rain. When they stumble on a tiny town surrounded by chilly woods and freezing weather, is when they finally catch word of someone who might have been Reader... A lone child, always quiet and scarred, who brings in pelts and bones for a living... Investigating further, the people say the kid has a family, a sickly parent and a relative who takes care of their schooling when they drop by, but that they've never seen them before. According to the kid, their family is paranoid, leaving them as the only one who isn't afraid of going out and making ends meet.

• Well. It seems they have their lead.

• And when they find a cabin, old and worn and wet, the air is scented... And the smell is one they haven't smelled in three years. Soon, a person can be seen, a lanky teen with long, scruffy blonde hair and bright eyes... The moment they see them, everyone freezes.

• Seeing them again... Seeing how scrawny they are... The scars that mar their skin all over... The hunched shoulders and wide, scared eyes... A scent that turns sharp and acidic, tainted by thick, overflowing fear...

• "Reader..."

• In a flash Reader bolts, darting into the cold woods, not slowing even when they call after them, not stopping when they go after them. Reader keeps a step ahead, fast as a hare as their feet carry them over rocks and past patches of ice. Even trying to dart them doesn't work, the tranquilizer thumping into the snow beside them. The snow keeps falling, dusting them all in powdery white flakes as they follow. The teens who came along fall back when the two ferals signal them, letting then know they'll handle the situation... It doesn't take them much longer to find Reader, cutting them off as they block off either side of the small clearing. And what a moment it is...

• Reader is so... small, compared to them. It doesn't help that they shrink in on themself, their fangs bared and eyes fearful. They can see the scars across their face better now, sliced in and deep, a different color than the rest of their flesh. It's hard, seeing them this way. They're too thin, too shaking, too fearful. Even scars line their arms, as though made by an object rather than by accident... And they realize that even though Reader has been away, they haven't been much better off...

• "Oh cub... What did we do ta ya?"

• Trying to step closer only leads to their cub stepping back. It doesn't take more than a heartbeat for then to try to dodge past them, swift and desperate-

• But one of them manages to snag them by the back of their shirt, dragging them into a hold. They try to reason with them, try to talk them down from a panic attack, being as gentle and sincere as they can. But nothing works. No promises of peace, no begging to help them, no pleas to calm down and give them a chance... None of it works. And they fight them. Sharp claws scratch at them, all while Reader struggles, screaming and wailing and biting, not stopping in the least. They try to do things without force one more time... But when their cub only cries harder, they know it won't go anywhere. Their kid is too deep into their trauma, too scared, and the most merciful thing to do is to cut it short.

• The syringe is jabbed in, quick and sharp, and pulled out a second later once it's empty. Explaing to their cub that it was only a sedative makes them cry harder, a broken sob escaping them. Their struggles grow wilder for a minute- until it starts to slow down, as the drug takes effect. They pat their head softly, a hiccup escaping the cub as the medicine calms them down, making them tired and relaxed. Feeling the way they slowly relax, their limbs slackening and their breaths slowing, a tired mumble coming from them... It isn't what they want, but they can't deny how right it feels, getting their kid to feel better. To soothe them when they've been hurtin'. When the cub passes out, slumping into his arms, he's every bit careful and soft, picking them up and letting his brother lead the way back to the others, alerting them that they have Reader with them.

• This isn't how they wanted it ta go... But... If this is what it takes ta keep 'em safe. Ta make 'em feel better. Ta take care of 'em... So be it. All that matters is helpin' Reader, keepin' em safe an' fed an' well, makin' em feel loved an' cared fer. They might have ta be a little forceful about it. That's fine. They'll be as gentle as they can, an' make sure their cub can't hurt themself er others. They'll keep 'em happy, they'll make it so they know how much they care. Even if it takes a lifetime, they'll keep proving how sorry they are, how much they missed 'em, how much they love them... They might well be immortal... Who's to say their cub isn't, too? And this time, they're all going to be a family. No more fighting. No more rivalries. All of them, together, will make things right. That's a promise that they won't break, no matter what comes their way...

[floshav]

I hate you.

but can i make it up to you for one night?

Rodrick heffley x fem!reader

words: 7k+

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙢, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩, 𝙗𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙠𝙞𝙙 𝙍𝙤𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙠 ;), 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩𝙮, 𝙍𝙤𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙗𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙠, 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨, boys with nail polish, fingering, descriptiveness of smut kinda, dom rod, virgin! fem reader

summary: Rodrick always seems to get on y/n's nerves and it drives her wild. From the amount of restless nights he's granted her to shaming her in public constantly. What happens when the guilt overwhelms him and he decides to show her how sorry he can be. Just for one night.

Rodrick was a total dick to y/n. Sadly she knew it was a way for him to cope with himself after he'd been bullied out of his mind ever since stepping into crosslands high.

The constant alley way fights he'd find himself in, the constant teasing and shoving he'd received just because he was different. It all amounted to his attitude now. Back to y/n, let it be the small things he'd do to piss her off, or the really major things which would set her crying in the bathroom stall for a week straight, it secretely and shittily made him feel less alone. How'd their relationship even come to this? It'd all been fine right until 8th grade when Rodrick was still her friend. Now they were in senior year and Rodrick had still stuck to being an absolute dickhead.

"Hey snotface." Rodrick called out as y/n began to stuff her locker with books and scrapped papers preparing for dismissal. Shoving a band audition flyer in her folder along the way. The sounds of students clamouring about in the background, anticipating the bell.

No response

"Oh y/nnnnn!" Rodrick called as she slammed her locker shut, eyeing him with pure violence in the process.

"The hell you want shitstain." Y/n said as she began to place the remaining books in her bag removing her attention from him.

He cleared his throat "Was just wondering if you could help me with the science project Mrs Burke gave us." He hesitated as he began following y/n who was now making her way out his sight. "I don't really understand what she meant by sticking the circles where the electrons-"

The audacity

"Of course you don't. You never pay attention in class." Y/n scoffed as she began walking out the school compound just as the bell rang. Everyone else doing the same, the sound of skateboards and fast feet prominent on the rough pavement.

"Yea that's the thing i-"

"What makes you think i'd help you?" Y/n finally said turning around in her sneakers, making them squeekkk in the process to face him, she was really testing the waters this time getting fed up with his attitude.

"Because i said so idiot." Rodrick said with that familiar intimidating voice he'd put on around her.

"Shut the fuck up" Y/n said with a blank face not thinking much about the words she had just put out, tretching further into the waters.

"The fuck you say to me?" Rodrick said with a stupid menacing grin plastered on his face making a tight knot of nervousness tie itself in her stomach.

"I-i, Rodrick." She sighed carefully "All you've done was be a dick to me! I've honestly had enough of your shit and you've really fucking changed is all I have to say." Y/n said as she felt that all familiar feeling of heaviness succumb her eyes.

Before she could run away he shoved her against a wall hands on either side of her shoulders looking her dead into her eyes, so close each freckle and fine line was visible, his hot breath tickled her lips.

"You act up one more time and you'll see what you fucking get."

"That clear?" Rodrick said with wide eyes whilst still holding her up helplessly.

Some students eyed the situation, too scared to do anything because it was Rodrick they were talking about.

"Fuck you." She whispered under her breath eyes already adorned with tears threatening to spill as Rodrick let her go.

She ran away as fast as she could feeling the shittiest she could ever feel.

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

The past

It all started in 7th grade. Rodrick had just changed middle schools to crosslands high and it was there he met y/n. She'd been just the same as him, a stupid emo kid who listened to too much rock. Lonely with no friends, outcasted by the school, depressed as one would be. They'd bonded over their favourite bands at the moment like radiohead or blur, and rodrick found it refreshing to talk to someone who liked the same things as him. Surprisingly, he'd been made fun of a lot for being in a band or wearing eyeliner or even just wearing a silly graphic tee or band shirt which y/n found cute most the time. The bullying had only gotten worse as time passed, some nights the only thing keeping him sane was the late night phone calls he'd have with y/n. Unbeknownst to him y/n didn't nearly get as much backlash as he did and that made him angry, confused and jealous. She was just like him so why was he receiving the shitty end of the stick.

This stirred Rodricks desire for payback to a non existent threat y/n had proposed. So Rodrick acted on his intrusive thoughts. Occasionally he'd purposely say something y/n said to him publicly exaggerating and manipulating the words she uttered making students giggle or yell insults or mocks to her in the halls. Like this one time she'd just told him she had an upset stomach and that was why she was late, yet he exagerrated her words saying things like "Oh! You had diarrhea this morning?" "That's really embarassing that you shat your pants." This gave y/n the nickname shitty asshole for the past few years and it only stopped when they entered senior year. Everyone around them suddenly maturing.

Sometimes the things Rodrick did weren't so light. Like the time he shoved her against the lockers picking her up by the collar just because she'd joked about him not getting any pussy, and that was what officially made y/n scared of her own best friend as this cycle would continue to repeat.

The Rodrick cycle. One that now affected y/n. The amount of nights she'd spent picking up the metal blade for hating herself so much. The amount of times she'd looked into the mirror feeling shit and ugly. The amount of times she'd wish she wasn't born in her own skin was to a disgusting point. At that moment she wished she'd never ever met Rodrick. To think that she'd even started to develop feelings for him at one point. What a foolish decision.

Things decided to get better when stuff like bands or boys wearing eyeliner and being emo became a trend again. Shitty for them both y/n thought to herself. Atleast Rodrick was finally getting bitches and bothering her less. That is until him dating pretty little Heather Hills, (someone that would otherwise make fun of him) bothered her out of her mind indirectly. However as one would expect, they broke it off pretty quick.

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

present day

She sat alone in her room at her desk looking at a razor blade she was so familiar with. She hesitated before slowly picking it up, tears welding in her eyes as she slowly brought the sharp material to her soft skin. The thoughts of what Rodrick did encouraging her more. She slowly poked her skin dragging it down making each press harder until beads of blood formed, threatening to spill down. How long before she'd stop. She didn't know.

Suddenly a light tapping sound came from her window. She got spooked before quickly setting her razor aside for later, wiping the fresh beads of blood away with the sleeve of her dark sweater.

As she slowly approached her curtain covered window she heard another tap followed by another.

She took a deep breath before swiftly peeking through the sheer material.

It took a while to realise who or what it was, but the result was infuriating.

"Are you serious?" She uttered under her breath as she noticed the figure was in fact Rodrick.

She annoyingly opened her window with a bored expression hissing at the goosebumps that braced her skin from the cold air.

"Hey" Rodrick called out awkwardly with what looked like a packet of cigarettes in his hands, fidgeting with it.

Y/n rolled her eyes lightly before gesturing for him to come in.

"God could you be any louder?" Y/n whisper yelled whilst looking down on him as he attempted to tretch through the crispy grass, both hands at either side of her face.

"Yea wanna see me try-"

"No."

Rodrick made his way to the treehouse that sat conveniently beside her bedroom window, struggling due to having a couple of things in his hands.

"The hell are you doing here shitstain."

"What? Is it wrong to visit you like old times?" rodrick said with fake innocence a stupid smirk forming slowly.

"Ha ha" "Old times." Y/n sighed before making her way to her arm chair.

She sat cross legged with an annoyed expression waiting to hear Rodrick's reasoning.

"I'm sorry bout earlier."

"You do this every night Rodrick."

"Oh c'mon-"

"Don't 'oh c'mon' me Rodrick. You were and still are an absolute asshat for what? 2 years now? i cant even keep track!" Y/n said with a deep underlaying sadness threatening to be revealed before her made up persona of not caring.

"Y/n.."

"You hurt me Rodrick." "You hurt me every single day."

"To think I really- To think I really really loved you as a friend." She said whilst her eyes began to form a layer of shine.

It was then on that her sleeves began to slip down without her knowledge as she expressed herself. The material revealing her soft skin grazed by a myriad of small slits and cuts ranging from old to fresh. Her arms told a story no other could tell.

"Y/n." "Y/n have you been cutting again?" Rodrick said with a sternness that was unrecognisable to her. One that she only knew years ago.

"Fuck." "Im so sorry" Rodrick said with what seemed to be genuine care.

He quickly kneeled down in front of her, lean hands embracing her arms.

"S-stop. I." "I never intended for it to get bad again." "I-it just happened." Y/n admitted already feeling defeated and tired.

"Y/n, shit. I-i am so so sorry I made you feel this bad." Rodrick said as he searched her eyes looking for something, possibly a glint of forgiveness which he hoped she still had.

He now slowly caressed her arms, y/n on the floor at this point staring into his eyes, tears threatening to spill. She noticed the little things about Rodrick now that the room was quiet and it seemed to be just the two of them in this whole universe. Like how he hadn't taken off his smudged eyeliner yet, or how his face adorned new freckles now that she hadn't seen him after some time. She couldn't lie about how much she adored him, but she hated him too. To a gut wrenching degree.

"Can we just move past this?" Y/n said as a tear slipped away.

Rodrick slowly wiped the tear away with his thumb, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

He had done his best to comfort her, wrapping his arms around her whilst whispering praises in her ear because he knew she liked that.

The thing was, he always did this. Every night in which he'd hurt her in the day, he'd try to find forgiveness in the night apologising emptily.

"Where're the blades." Rodrick asked seriously, looking into her eyes.

"d'know."

"Give them to me."

Rodrick said before standing up to search for the cause of her self harm. He looked everywhere, on her table that was covered in an organised mess, her shelves which adorned her old guitar picks and photos of her and her friends, her drawers in which one had stored her shorts and underwear. He searched everywhere until he finally found them chucked away behind a plush toy sat on her bookcase.

"Found em'" Rodrick said as if he achieved the greatest thing.

"Rodrick you dont have to take them, their stained and grimey"

"I dont care honestly." Rodrick said before plopping back down to where y/n sat.

The room was now silent, Rodrick still caressing her arm slowly.

"When are you going to stop?" Y/n asked unable to make eye contact, already nervous and anxious.

"I-" "I d'know." Rodrick sighed as he began to open the pack of used cigarettes he had in his back pocket. Offering one to y/n which she took gladly.

"You dont have to be mean to me to seem all tough y'know" Y/n said as she gazed at the ground, cigg lying lazzily in her index and middle finger.

"Fuck" "Yea i-i. I know that. Its just sometimes these thoughts.. These shitty thoughts take over my mind and its like I cant control my body's reaction to them." He sighed as he lit his cigarette up taking a long whiff in the process.

Y/n knew exactly what he meant.

"Y-yea. I understand." "Just, when its about hurting others.. you really gotta hold back on those thoughts Rodrick."

Unknown to him, his stomach slightly fluttered at the use of his name under her tounge.

He exhaled another puff of smoke before examining her face carefully for the first time in a while. She looked pretty all of a sudden. The way her hair was slightly messy, leftover mascara staining her bottom lashes, lips and eyes slightly blown out from crying earlier. The sight made him swallow thick.

"So.." y/n said stretching the o. "How's your life been?" She surprisingly asked.

Rodrick slowly flashed a wide grin at her making her stomach flutter stupidly at how good he looked smiling like that.

"Why'd you care all of a sudden?" Rodrick said still grinning giddily as he took another whiff blowing the smoke away from her face. The small gesture making her smile small to herself.

"D'know.. Just curious. We haven't had a chat about anything other than depressing shit nowadays anyway." She sighed as she began to light her own cigarette.

"Well.." "Heather's been sending me mixed signals again." Rodrick sighed

Heather. Y/n thought to herself. Wasn't she a thing of the past?

"Ah..." "Still hung up on the bitch?"

Rodrick quirked his eyebrow at the choice of her words, a slow and snarky smirk forming in the process.

"Jealous?"

"What the hell, no."

"W-what makes you think i'd be jealous of a stupid no lifer anyway." Y/n said hysterically and a lil too loudly as she took another deeper whiff out her cigarette trying to drown the pain away.

"Hm" Rodrick said as he sucked his cheek in looking to the side of her room.

"Damn, you got the In rainbows record?"

Y/n smiled knowing that was something they'd have in common.

"Yea, signed by thom"

"Wait, shit really?"

"Nah im just fucking with ya" Y/n barked out a laugh in which Rodrick shot back an eyeroll

"So.... Heather huh." "You still.. into her?" She asked hessitantly.

"D'know honestly."

What y/n wanted to say was, Im better for you than she ever could be. She's just a stupid mean girl who prances around thinking she could fuck any boy she glanced at and they'd be at her mercy. She doesn't even like the things you do. She'd never understand you the way I do. But of course, she never said those things.

"Ah"

"Why, hm?" Rodrick said amused but then something just clicked in his little brain.

"Oh, shit...." Rodrick said teasingly with a huge grin as he began to lean closer towards her.

"Is... Is y/n jealous?" He rasped so close to her, each decibel of his voice could be heard.

"What! No. Thats crazy!" She laughed nervously as she broke eye contact, quickly leaning back.

"Yea right." Rodrick teased on.

"So.. You wouldn't mind me calling up Heather right now then? Telling her how much i've been thinking of her."

Y/n's stomach dropped at the use of his words, feeling that overwhelming darkness overwash her.

"Y-yea, 'course I wouldn't mind." She lied through her teeth.

"Okay."

Rodrick pulled his phone out his pocket searching for y/n's reaction in the process. Eyes locked as he smoothly dialled in what she assumed was Heather's number.

The line rang as Rodrick smirked to himself, already knowing what the contortment of y/n's face meant. She was clearly bothered.

Why the hell is he doing this to me. He knows. So why. Why be such a dick about it. Y/n silently cursed in her mind.

The line stopped ringing, not because of the receiver hanging up, but because of the inevitable. Heather picked up the phone.

"Oh hey Rodrick!" The soft velvety smoothness of her voice shined through juxtaposing y/n's rough boyish rasp.

"Hey Heather, what're you up to?" Rodrick's voice sounded unrecognisable, somehow.. sexy?

"Mmm, nothing much." Y/n could hear the clear hessitation in her voice through the phone. "W-would you maybe wanna come over?"

Rodrick licked his lips looking at y/n's face. Satisfied with the reaction he'd gotten.

"Hm, maybe another time sweets. M'a bit busy at the moment."

"A-ah thats a shame. Wanted to try something new w'you."

Something new?

The line went dead.

"Totally not jealous." Rodrick smirked tucking away his phone diverting his attention fully on her.

"Do'ya have a cute little fling with her or what." "Do i need to remind you of the time she broke your heart?" Y/n blurted out, surprised at her own bluntness.

"Jeez calm down y/n." Rodrick said smirk slightly fading, but still tugging on amusement.

"Look for your own comfort, me and Heather dont have anything going on." pause "She's just an idiot sometimes." Rodrick tried to clarify taking another whiff out his cigarette as if he was trying to calm his nerves.

"Ok. Didnt ask though." Y/n said now in a curled up fashion, hair in her eyes taking another whiff out her cig.

Damn. Rodrick thought.

"Its getting late Rodrick. Think y'should start heading home"

The time was only 9pm but y/n couldn't bare seeing him anymore.

"W-" he stopped "Okay then. See you when i see you i guess" Rodrick said having something clearly bothering him.

She watched as he made his way to her open window which let cool breezy air leak in as her curtains swayed in the drafts. Before she knew it he was gone.

"Bye." Y/n said more to herself than anything seeing as no one was there.

She cursed herself to no end that night. Why was she so easily jealous.

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

She hadn't gotten any sleep and it was the next day. It was way too early to be seeing Rodrick propped up next to her locker, and he was looking a little better than usual. Ugh. His hair was a mess as if he just woke up, the leftover eyeliner she'd seen him have on last night still smudged beneath the pads of his undereyes and a black jacket draped over a "the cure" shirt. He screamed junkie, yet why was he still so damn attractive.

He turned his head eyebrows raising with a bored expression as y/n approached her locker.

"Hey"

"Yea?"

"Is it wrong to wanna see your face in the morning? Gotta have something to jumpscare me into the day somehow" He smirked before turning his eyes fully onto her.

Y/n faked a scared expression as she looked him in the eyes. "Oh shit!"

"Oh.. sorry was just a little scared by your inability to apply eye makeup."

Rodrick put both his hands to his heart in a fake hurt expression.

"You take that back young lady!"

"Nope. What you gonna do about it?" She said as she slammed her locker shut looking him in the eyes, books for the day in hand.

He was in a relaxed position now, arm propped up against the locker so close to y/n's face that it genuinely gave her a little scare, feeling goosebumps scatter her body.

"You dont wanna find out" Rodrick trailed off and she swears he looks down at her lips for a second. Maybe she was seeing things. Yea definitely seeing things. Or maybe....

"Hey rodrick!" The chirpy voice of Heather called.

"Oh hey heather" Rodrick was now turned and his attention was fully on heather. Atleast thats what y/n thinks.

The thing is, Rodrick is aware. He's aware of the effect he has on her and what it does to y/n when he talks to Heather, so he continues to talk because thats who he is. A dick who likes to tease.

"About last night.."

"Go on"

"Was wondering if you'd maybe like to drop by today?"

Y/n's blood boils and she hates it. Why does she even care? Its not like Rodrick owes her anything or something.

"Hm"

"I mean its totally fine if you don-"

"No yea ill stop by" Rodrick cuts her off with a smirk. The smirk which y/n thought was meant for her and her only.

"Oh cool! See you after school then" Heather said clearly giddy and blushful as she skipped on by.

"So i guess this non existent thing between you and Heather is clearly .. existent huh?" Y/n said with a tired look.

"Nah Heathers not really my type."

"Then what is your type."

Girls who would rather stay at home all day reading a book or playing their favourite instrument than going out and getting black out wasted at a party. A girl who has a lopsided smile everytime she talks about something she likes. A girl who sloppily applies her mascara every morning in hopes it helps her slug through the day better. You. was what Rodrick thought.

"D'know honestly, probably not you is all" Rodrick grinned before nudging her shoulder and walking away.

Absolute dick.

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

The warm evening light that shone through her room was a tell tale sign that she'd been thinking about Rodrick way too much ever since she got home and it was still bright out. She found herself thinking about the interaction she had with Rodrick this morning. The way she really thought he looked down at her lips. Why her lips? And why after that sentence. She'd analyzed her perfect envisionment of the memory so much to the point she'd remembered every little slur and lisp Rodrick had produced during the convo. Maybe she was overthinking it. No she definitely was overthinking it.

Clink

She whipped her head up to look at her window hearing the all so familiar sound of small pebbles hitting her window, it'd been a miracle the window hadn't shattered yet.

Clink

She rolled her eyes and got up reluctantly.

She placed both her hands on either side of the window sill, taking a deep breath before looking down. There he was, looking up at her like he always did with a pack of ciggarettes in his hands.

"Can i come in?" He mouthed

I mean what else would she do? The answer was clear.

But she played with him anyway. "No" She mouthed shaking her head as he began to make his way up the ladder of her treehouse.

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

How he'd ended up in her bed next to her talking about life was quite weird to her. It all began when she took a cig like usual, but this time she felt especially giggly and happy by the drug as she offered to paint his fingernails. Each one of them a different shade of green because she found that funny somehow.

Now Rodrick was layed on her belly, relaxed as he waited for his nails to dry.

"Thought you were gonna hang with Heather today." Y/n breathed out slowly careful with her movements as Rodricks head followed her breaths.

"Decided not to." "Why? Y'dont want me here?"

"N-No! Its just that... i dont understand why you still come back to me even though you say you hate me."

Y/n's breaths quicken as anxiety washes over her realising what she'd said.

"Dont hate you." Rodrick sighed as he checked out his nails.

"Oh"

"Im sorry i make you feel like it sometimes." Rodrick said as he looked up into her eyes now making his way to rest his head beside hers careful with his nails.

"Its okay i guess." Y/n hates herself for always giving in so easily to him. So quick and understanding when he clearly doesn't deserve her sincerity.

As if her fingers were on autopilot she brushes her delicate digits through the locks of his rough messy hair, brushing some strands out his eyes and this makes Rodricks skin turn hot, the dazed lazy look in her eyes not helping his case.

You dont know what you do to me. Rodrick thought to himself before flipping over, now facing the ceiling and not her so that he could stop his dangerous thoughts before it got too far. This makes y/n feel funny. Why did he turn over? Does he not like me fluffing his hair about. Fuck its weird to do anyway, he's your friend for god's sake. Nothing more. So she turns back over to immitate Rodrick's actions.

Except, Rodrick can't hold his thoughts in anymore.

"You're really pretty you know that- Dont think people tell you it enough." Rodrick sighed now red in the face, fingers fidgety but careful with the polish.

This takes y/n off gaurd.

"Wh- Ah thank you?" She says and Rodrick knows she's smiling because she has that voice on.

"Why're you being so nice?" Y/n inquires and this makes Rodrick sad. Has he really hurt that much? That even a simple compliment bewilders her.

"m'sorry" He mutters under his breath along with a few curses to himself now sitting up right.

"Rodrick?" Y/n asks before copying his position once more.

"Shit. Yea m'sorry Y/n." He says and y/n notices the impossible. Is Rodrick tearing up?

"Gotta go" He mumbles before dashing for the window leaving y/n red faced and confused both hands plopped to her sides helplessly as he takes for the window.

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

At the heffley residence.

Rodrick sat dumb and tear struck on his bed. Both legs hooked on the edge and face buried in his palms trying to stop the tears from welding up. He hadn't had a good cry in a century, so why now out of all days? The slow burn of his pent up tears was an oddly satisfying release. Each tear trickling faster than the last, eyes begging to be cleared of its misery.

"Fuck."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Rodrick cursed to himself, all the thoughts of him bullying you and misery he's put you through crashing him in the head just like he would to his drums.

"What's wrong with you." "Sick fuck."

He sighs before plopping down laying flat on his bed, head dazed and vision clouded. Then something clicks in his head. Something stupid but he hopes it works.

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

Y/n spent the night strumming her guitar a long to whatever song she'd learnt in the past week hoping to forget about the events of the day. Why did Rodrick leave so abrubtly? Was i being weird? Fuck was I? Yet the thoughts of Rodrick still fled her head just like they did every other night.

The low buzz of an Instagram notification brought her back to life but the person it was from might as well put her back to death.

@rxdr1ckxx - wanna crash at mine?

Cute username she thought.

What? Is he trippin'? He never texts me.

sure! sent.

she stupidly sends in a rush of emotions. "I mean who even sends sure with an exclamation mark!?" She curses under her breath before lighting another cigarette to numb the feelings she felt right then and there, eyes fluttering close as the smoke fills her soul.

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

The house was dull yet lit up by the moonlight which sparkled over it delicately. It was a plain looking neighbourhood, quite, suburban and so not Rodrick. It was definitely something she wasn't normally used to. No random beer cans smashed on the floor, no random junkies hanging out at this late hour. Just an irkingly perfect neighbourhood.

She looked up to see a window illuminating light onto the dark house beside it. Could that be Rodricks room?

hey bozo im here 11:58PM sent

she saw the light shadows of someone moving at the top most floor, what appeared to be the attic. Oh. So that wasn't his room.

"what the fuck is taking him so long?" she sighed as she bit her lips at the cold air surrounding her body, quickly stepping on her cig in the process dirtying this perfectly pictured neighbourhood just a little bit. Adding character she thought.

damn, bozo? You're getting real brave out here 12:05AM

finally, you gonna tell me how to get in or what? 12:05AM

yea yea just take the staircase allll the way to the top, literally the only door on that floor. doors unlocked btw 12:06AM

she didnt bother replying to that so she slowly scraped her feet across the pavement as if the slightest sound could wake the whole neighbourhood. Careful as she placed her hand around the door nob twisting it painfully slow until she heard it unclick. The smell of old house filled her nostrils and she honestly felt... at home. She crept up the carpetted staircase that was placed right in front of the door and cringed at every creeeeak the floorboards would make when she pressed her feet down a little too hard on the floor. She even passed by what seemed to be his brothers room, light still on and music playing way louder than it should've at this time of night making her jump in adrenaline as she realised that she was being too slow. So she dashed up the next flight of stairs and was greeted with a swinging door. Fuck, now of all times Rodrick?

He did nothing but stand there with parted lips and she swears he looks down at her lips again.

"Hey"

"Hi."

"Why'd you even invite me over, you never do" The sound of rock playing softly in his bedroom, the one small warm lamp that lit up his whole room, his walls covered in band posters and a freaking weezer album cover made her forget what she even said quickly pushing past him to admire his messy yet pretty room.

"W-woah slow down there" He chuckled before you heard the door shut behind him. You turned around to face him with a smile which made him want to take you right then and there. He shot back that stupid smug grin of his as he made his way to his bed, sitting dazed on the edge.

"Thought i'd start invitin' you over more, seems unfair if I just infiltrate your place." He sighs before plopping flat on his bed, stomach heaving up and down with each breath he took. Hot she thought.

"Well you thought right, i mean where have you been hiding this haven from me! Bitch." She yelps before plopping down right beside him, toothy smile in action as she turned to look at him and so he mirrored her actions.

Fuck why does she always have to look so good. He cursed in his mind as his eyes couldn't help but flutter down to her lips before he shut them tight. Why the fuck was he feeling like this now. Out of all the times he's known her. This time felt different.

He brought his lanky hand up to her face and she flinched slightly at his touch but began to cave in as he rotted her with his unfamiliar, -almost forbiden- affection.

"I'm really- really sorry y/n." He said as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear making her blush a bundle of roses.

"Why're you being like this?"

"Being like what?" He said as she began to sit up right on his bed.

"Don't play dumb Rodrick. B-being all nice and shit." She stuttered as she looked at him with sad eyes.

"You got a kink for me being mean?" Rodrick tried to joke but quickly realised this wasn't the right time.

He sighs. "It's just. Fuck. I've felt so bad these past few days. No- fuck. I feel bad all the time, about the things i've put you through."

She slightly laughs to herself making Rodrick fumble with his fingers.

"And yet i still always let you in." She sighs before wrapping her arms around her knees, bringing it into her chest to feel that nice stretch and comfort it always gave her.

"Sometimes i wonder why. I'm such a dick and and-" Before he can finish those words y/n slowly leans closer to his face now seeing every freckle and crease his pretty face adorned.

"Can i?" She says so quietly it might as well have been a whisper as she glanced down to his now parted lips. His expression was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. Eyes agape with a breathlessness to it.

"Anything you like." And with those words she plants a soft kiss on his lips, one that makes him feel numb in love- no, hungry for more.

"And sometimes i wonder why i still let you intrude my thoughts even though you don't deserve it." She says before pulling away a blushing mess.

"I'll take that as an apology accepted?" He says with his signature stupid smirk which always made a certain wetness pool at her core.

She does nothing but cover her face with her hands embarrassed as the events of what had happened just hit her like a truck.

"Can i.. can i kiss you again?" Rodrick says so quietly and low beside her ear making her flinch in the darkness that covered her eyes.

He slowly removes her hands from her pretty blush strucken face and with a nod of her head he dives in like a man starved. The feeling of her soft plush lips against his slightly dry ones made him feel harder than he already was, the quiet whimpers she'd make every-time he ran his fingers up and down her waist not helping his case.

"You" kiss "don't" kiss "fucking know how long" kiss "i've thought about this for." kiss. He says as he feels her lips smile on his.

"You've thought about me kissing you?" She says a complete pool of putty under his hands as they caress her hips as if she was the most precious thing he's ever laid his hands upon.

"Fuck, was it not obvious?" He laughs before pecking her jaw, startling her as he began to move away from her lips.

So the glances at my lips were real. she thought.

As the kisses got more intense y/n guided Rodricks hands lower, lower and lower causing a soft groan to erupt from his lips, him blushing madly at his antics. She kept going until he accidentally pinned her against his matress from the inbalance.

"Fuck is this okay? M'sorry-"

"Just shut up and kiss me"

Those simple words make Rodricks dick jump hard.

He dives back in moving both her arms above her head and pinning them down from there so he has better access to her neck without her squirming about. He plants soft painfully sloppy kisses around her collar bone and sucks harshly at the hollow space between. He accidentally brushes his hard on at the side of her thigh in the process making her feel that familiar warm liquid pool even more at her core.

"Can i..... Can i take this off?" He asks quietly whilst looking her down with his pretty eyes, each detail of his face unmasked from the amount of freckles that ranged from dark to light, the pinkness of his kiss sick lips, that god damn smudged eyeliner he always forgot to remove.

"mhm" She said just above a whisper as she trembled at his touch around the side of her boobs.

"I need words y/n" He whispers as he places a soft peck on her lips.

"Y-yes." She says as she shakes at his lips and how soft they are.

"Good girl." And with that he slowly removes her top, tapping her sides lightly indicating her to hoist her body up, painfully peeling the soft sweater she wore off her.

His lips were parted and eyes blown at the sight of her in just her bra. She sheepishly covered her chest, insecure of them and turned her face away but Rodrick wasn't having it.

"Show me how pretty you can be yea?" He says as he slowly peels her hands away from her chest making her whimper in the process.

The sight made his already rock hard erection even harder than it could possibly be. Her chest heaving up and down, lips slightly parted and checks flushed. He had her where he always dreamt of. All at his mercy.

He moves down to remove her bra clasp, fumbling with the clip before finally breaking it loose making him groan as he saw her tits come loose. He slowly moved down to give it a little peck awaiting her reaction and he fucking smirks when she moans out his name.

"Never been touched here before?" He asks gently as he continued to suckle each nipple teasingly

"F-Fuuckk n-not like t-this- Ahh shit" she moaned through her words as he continued to abuse the plush skin.

"You" Pop "Look" Kiss "So fucking" squeeze "pretty like this." He groaned as another moan erupted from her mouth.

"Being so so good for me"

"Rodrick?"

"Hmm?"

"Why were you ahh- so mean to me before this." She struggled as his actions got more intense each lick more vivid and drowning than the last.

"Honestly I-" "I was just mad that you were so fucking perfect." He sighs as he looks up at her with the prettiest doe eyes.

"Wanted you to experience what i fucking went through and ended up regretting it all." He slowly brings his head up to level with her caressing her face with his thumbs slowly.

"You dont fucking deserve that and im so, so sorry." He says and she swears this is the most sincere he's ever been.

"You were a dick Rodrick. So now its time to put it to good use." She tries to lighten the mood as she pulls his shirt by the collar and his lips clash into hers again. It was her turn to take action.

She slowly moved her soft hands up and down the denim of his jeans feeling his erection shine through the thick material. He groaned at every miniscule touch she gave him, each one more painfully teasing than the last.

"Can i take these off?" She asks as she plays with the zipper of his jeans.

"Fuck, fuck yea you can" He smirks before guiding her hands down to his belt and watches as she fumbles around with the hook. As soon as she unbuckles the belt he's quick to help remove his jeans in one swift motion. His jeans get tossed to the floor helplessly merging with the floor in his trashed room.

His boxers were tight around his erection and y/n felt her mouth water with the way it twitched each time she tapped it lightly, lips twirling at the faces Rodrick would respond with.

"S-stop Ahh- teasing" Rodrick shakily breathed as he pinned her deeper into the mattress. As if something of a revelation was revealed, his eyes darkened and he grabbed her wrists harshly but not enough to hurt her when she tapped one last time, the hardest time.

He moaned, he hissed, he produced a plethora of sweet sounds.

"Nuh ah ah sweet thing" Her eyes fluttered at the pet name.

"I'm gonna show you just how much i'm sorry. You lay back and relax" Rodrick winks and it's not cringy before planting a soft kiss at the side of her lips causing her the whimper at the lack of affection.

With that Rodrick slowly and painfully traced his fingers down the valley of her breasts, down her soft belly finally reaching the dark fuzz of pubic hairs which grazed her panties waistband. His body was now placed between her thighs, eyes still innocent as he looked up at her. He gave her clothed cunt a soft kiss and she arched her back so hard she swore she saw stars.

"Have you- Have you ever been touched before?" He asked seeing how sensitive she was to his mere touch.

"N-no. I'm still a virgin." She sighs in bliss as he begins to rub light circles around her clit.

"All these years i've known you so well... But i've never known you were a virgin." He grins with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he pulls the waistband of her underwear down a notch.

"Up, I hope you forgive me after this." He taps at her waist and she follows at this new familiarity as if they've done this a million times.

She's not sure if she's hallucinating but she swears she sees Rodrick slowly rutting himself into the mattress at every occasion he gets thinking she's not aware.

He slowly drags the lace-y material down her thighs and gawks at the sight beneath him. Her splayed out on his bed waiting for his next move, hair a mess and mascara blown out. This might as well have been something out of his wettest dreams.

"Im gonna go in okay?" He asks the softest he's ever been whilst placing delicate kisses around her neck making her gasp at the multi sensation.

He slowly plunges a finger in struggling at the resistance rubbing circles around her clit trying to sooth her ache.

"Fuck so wet for me already." He moans as he feels his finger dip in easily. He plunges in her folds excruciatingly slow. Each dip like rubber into her spongy walls.

"A-Ah shit!" She moaned at this new found sensation. She craved for more.

"C-can you aah- put another one in?" She shyly asked as the sounds that filled the air were heinous and obscene. Each time Rodrick went in, a sick slick wet sound was produced.

"So eager huh?" He smirks as he feels his boxers get tighter and tighter, a patch of pre cum staining his boxers and seeping in the mattress as he slowly ruts into it imagining it was her. Each clench around his finger made his cock jump just imagining it was him she was wrapped around.

He obliged and gave her another peck as he inserted another finger. She couldn't take it anymore. The cries that filled the room were far from innocent as Rodrick plunged his fingers back and forth and back and forth through her soaking hole. Never in a million years would Rodrick have imagined that the girl he bullied to be screaming his name as she came around his fingers clenching at every soft praise he gave her.

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

omfg fucking finally after 1 billion years of writing this I CAN FINALLY POST IT!!!!! btw i might continue writing yearning for u so keep ur eyes peeled!

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hey! I really appreciated what you said about minors in “nsfw” ( not the right term but idk how else to word it) spaces. Seeing people constantly throw a curtain over my eyes to try and protect my ‘innocence’ (I guess?) is super frustrating, and makes the guilt and shame I already feel around exploring/expressing my body/sexuality just that much worse. So I truly appreciate you going against that notion!!

Anyway, do you have any advice for someone who’s just started figuring this stuff out? For me, I think a constant thought running through my head is ‘an I doing this right’ specifically in regards to like, romantic/sexual feelings. Are the feelings I’m feeling actually romantic/sexual ones or do I just want to be a person who has romantic/sexual feelings? That kind of stuff

Any advice would be greatly appreciated, and thanks so much again for talking about this kinda stuff!! Your blog has been an amazing resource for me

hey anon,

come in, sit down. grab a glass of water. take a deep breath.

I have great news: it is literally impossible to do any of this wrong. it's all feelings; you can't do feelings wrong! nobody gets to decide what's true about you but you, so whatever you decide on is automatically the right answer. and here's the sickest part: there can be a different right answer every month if you want. every week. hell, you can be one thing in the morning and another in the afternoon. new sexual orientation every hour, if you want. and they'll all be right. this applies to everyone, by the way, you're not special.

I mean, you are. but you're not the only person in control of your own fate this way.

I think maybe instead of stressing about the hypothetical macrolevel questions of Who You Are and What Your Deal Is and all that, maybe it's more helpful to look on the microlevel.

is that person attractive to you? in what way? do you want to spend time with them? how? as part of a group or one on one? what activities do you imagine doing with them? is this someone who you want to be emotionally close to? how do you feel if you imagine yourself in the context of a romantic relationship? what does a romantic relationship mean to you, anyway? what might you want out of that, if you want it at all? how do you feel about the idea of having sex with this person? if it's scared and stressed, don't do that! is it excitement, or at least curiosity? okay, maybe we'll check that out! or maybe not. up to you! do you want romance sound nice but not sex, or sex but not romance? awesome, that's also fine.

oh, what's that? another person? okay. now run through all of these questions again.

hang on, what now? your answers to the questions about the first person have changed based on spending more time with them and getting to know them more? incredible! information gained!

sex and romance can mean whatever you want, man (gender neutral). sometimes you just have to follow the vibes.

[kevin-ibw]

Omg I love your Vees but I’m kinda curious as to how they run the entertainment district. I feel like I understand how they run the church very well and how they promote constant indulgence in sin but I’m curious as to how the Vees themself run their original area of expertise.

Does anything change with how they run stuff. Does Velvette run her fashion industry like normal does she change the algorithm to boost anything related to religion? Does Val continue to run his industry like normal or is it different too. Is Angel Dust still owned by Val and what’s his relation to the Hotel and Val with this AU and how things are ran. Does Vox do his broadcast and do they run like those 24 hour church sermon tv channels?

How the Vees run the Entertainment District

Vox: He has the most popular streaming services, so It's not surprising he'd have an ad that plays once and while that preaches about how you should trust your safety with our savior, and yes he does indeed have a broadcast dedicated to a 24hr church sermon, it's the only you can get until you pay for other cables or the streaming services.

Velvette: You're right about the algorithm thing. She runs the fashion industry as she usually does. Occasionally, Velvette will add a line of various different nun outfits that look rather explicit and scandalous. She always reassures everyone that clothes should be a freedom of expression. Velvette had threatened everyone that questioning her words is equivalent to questioning Vox's words, and you don't want to question your savior, now do you?

Valentino: Funnily enough, Val's the only one that doesn't have a religious role between the three of them. Vox is the angel, Vel is the nun, but Val? He's a mafioso leader, something that has NO ties to Christianity. The other Vees have told him that he could always be a priest but Val would rather shoot himself with an angelic bullet than ever pick up those garments of clothing.

But he does have a way of implementing some religious innuendos in his porn films. Val selectively interpret biblical passages about sex to fit his narrative and justify certain behaviors depicted in his films. He emphasizes passages that highlight the beauty and pleasure of sexual intimacy while downplaying or ignoring passages that emphasize restraint or monogamy.

He manipulates the feelings of guilt and shame associated with people's sexual desire, offering his films as a form of relief or absolution. Eventually, his viewers would indulge in lustful sinning themselves.

Val is a lot more stricter in his terms on what is acceptable for his films, he has high standards for his scripts which kind of bite him in the ass the majority of the time. "The best kind of porn is the one that has an underlying plot point, no matter how small it is." As he would put it.

One thing that seems heavily ironic to his character is that the act of sex isn't actually something that Val indulges in often. Sure he fucks and sleeps around a few times, but this is his way of relaxing from all the mafioso business, a way to display his artistic creativity.

But despite the fact that the porn gig is supposed to be his way of relaxation, he reviews several manuscripts for his films overnight and doesn't get enough sleep for it.

Angel and his relationship to Valentino and the Hotel

Being done with his family business, Angel tries to find an excuse to get away from it all by working with a moth who runs hell's porn industry, only for him to realize that said moth also runs a mafioso. Perhaps he should've paid more attention to politics.

Angel tells himself that it's fine. The guy seems decent enough so far. He's allowed to do some porn gigs and occasionally snark back at the boss without much repercussion, so he's safe so far. But then things start getting a bit complicated, and Angel gets dragged into Val's more shady business. Debt collecting, drug trading, and even deal making, and suddenly he realizes he's now into some deeper shit.

"If you think I don't do background checks on my employees, then you're sorely mistaken, Angie."

"Your father's been a real thorn at my side for far too long."

Angel tries to compromise. He doesn't exactly hate his family, but he doesn't want them double dead either, so he offers his soul as a way of exchange to live them alone. They're the only thing left he has in this shithole of an afterlife, and having something is better than having nothing.

Val considers it, Angie has been his top earner for the time he spent being employed. He's fairly skilled with guns and has a natural charm that can be used for negotiation, so he agrees. The rest is history. Then we catch up to the events of season one.

Angel: "So what's this hotel all about?"

Charlie: "We are attempting to give sinners in hell salvation so they can be redeemed!"

Angel: "... so a cult?"

Vaggie irritated: "Not a cult."

Angel sounding really unconvinced: "A cult."

Part two of Angel getting dragged into situations where he doesn't want to, he couldn't say no a gaint 10ft moth overlord, he can't exactly say no to the princess of hell and her exorcist girlfriend, ESPECIALLY when he knows what happens to the people that even lightly insult Lucifer's daughter. I guess he's now involved in her little pet project now. Doesn't mean Val is happy about it.

Because great, if Vox beinf gone for 7 years didn't make Val unhappy, hearing that his now top earning employee is now a patron of CHARLIE MORNINGSTAR's little hotel, then more fuel is just being added to the fire that is Val's stress levels.

Val: "Angie why the fuck are you associated with LUCIFER'S DAUGHTER."

Angel: "Val, I'm telling ya, I literally got dragged into this unwillingly. You gotta believe me."

Val: "Por el amor de Lucifer- and WHY exactly?" He violently hisses out.

Angel shrugs all four of his arms.

[swanpyart]

INSIDE JOB PART 2 Spoilers: Ron and Reagan

Honestly, I feel like people are a bit too hard on Ron in the finale. I feel like his feelings about not wanting to be involved with the Shadow Governments are perfectly reasonable and, if Reagan weren't so attached to her colleagues and Brett, and wasn't as ambitious in her career path, she would have immediately gone with him.

I don't think Reagan or Ron is wrong for their feelings. That's kind of the point: they care about each other but ultimately have different priorities. And, also, they're both clearly traumatized from their own experiences and trying to work it out in different ways.

Like, Ron is clearly self-destructive and pushes people away when he feels he's unable to connect with them. I think that's part of why Brett initially disliked him; Ron has little drive to appeal to others and is perpetually disconnected because of his own trauma. Brett starts to like him when he becomes more sincere in his approach. Not to mention, he's low-key kind of suicidal; he doesn't seem to want to die, but his obsession with memories seems to stem from his intense guilt. He was raised Catholic and clearly harbors intense shame for his entire life, and has spent his entire career doing awful shit, so he feels weighed down by his own brain and his own existence. The way he describes his experience drinking an entire vat of memory-erasing fluid sounds like he's describing a suicide attempt to Reagan. In the end, the only way Ron was able to free himself from his perpetual guilt is to forget it all, and he just assumed the same for Reagan, by assuming that this guilt was something they had in common. And he's not ENTIRELY wrong; Reagan has expressed countless times how much she's hated her job and her coworkers, so, naturally, he assumed she'd be excited to run away from it all with him.

Reagan, is not like that at all, though. She is constantly curious, determined, and angry. She doesn't resign herself to sit back and let the world burn, she wants to DO something. And erasing all of her memories would serve no purpose to her, because she prioritizes her own autonomy and mind, and her connections to others as above her own sense of peace. (plus, Rand has erased her memories before, and she probably doesn't want to go through that again). To Ron, ignorance is bliss and truth has caused him great pain, but to Reagan, ignorance blinds her to the truth of the world. It blinded her to how awful her father was, of how to open up to others, and how to accept the unfairness of the world.

Besides, and this might be a hot take, Ron is ABSOLUTELY correct when he says Reagan should quit her job. Every episode shows that Cognito is basically a zoo full of insane, awful people, Reagan has had to deal with monsters of all kinds, has nearly died on several occasions, and her coworkers are all assholes (even if they do care for her deep down). Remember, Ron hasn't seen everything we've seen of the company, and from his reactions, it seems the Cognito is WAY more dysfunctional than the Illuminati, meaning that Reagan is in even more danger. I mean, a halloween party culminated in everyone getting contaminated with a virus in which everyone wants to be his friend (and as someone with social anxiety, that is my worst nightmare). Ron even says that every time they get together in public they nearly die.

And you might say, "well, why doesn't Ron just quit and let Reagan work?" Even if he did, he'd have to live with the constant fear of his girlfriend/potential wife possibly dying from whatever horrific event is happening at her job that day, and their relationship (as shown in the alternate timelines) would eventually deteriorate, because its extremely difficult to control the entire world and lead a fulfilling romantic life at the same time. Even in Part 1, Bear-O said that her job at Cognito makes her life more difficult. Ron's whole Appleton plan would start them off with a clean slate.

A clean slate isn't what Reagan wants. She would lose all that she's worked for, and she would never give that up. In the end, they both lost what they wanted (each other) and got what they needed (Ron gets peace, and Reagan gets her means to make actual change).

If anything, I feel that Reagan and Ron's relationship, in some ways, is a direct parallel to Rand and Tamiko's relationship. Both Rand and Reagan want to rule the world, but they have someone they love who simply can't accept it and continue as if nothing is wrong. The difference between Rand and Reagan is that, while Rand insists that he can have both the entire world and the validation of this one person, Reagan knows she can't have both and lets Ron go, because she loves him.

[verosvault]

🚨SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 8 OF BURROW'S END!!!🚨

Dimension20 "Burrow's End"

Episode 8

Timestamp: 15:11

Video Length: 4min. & 52sec.

I can't fully explain how powerful this scene is to me. One thing I love about Dimension20 is the fact that they're never afraid to roleplay the hard situations and the hard talks. It's-

I love how Tula has this hard conversation with her mom and she isn't afraid to tell her mom that she has an obsession with power and control. Ava really seems like she's at a loss for words, and it's understandable, because she's being called out on it....and it's hard. It's because Ava feels so much guilt and shame for losing Ken. The same feeling that Tula probably feels for losing Geoffrey. Ava chooses to feel guilty and tries to forget what happened... while for Tula, her losing Geoffrey is a constant reminder to her that you have to always be careful because so many bad things can happen? It's like- ugh. I don't even know if what I said is right..but that's... that's how I feel and it's so strong.

I wish I could have a talk with my IRL mom like this. In a way that she can just understand and apologize. Which, Ava didn't apologize right away, she did it later on. But I don't even think my IRL mom has apologized to me for so much. She just guilt trips me and says that she failed to raise me...or whatever. And I'm like...if I could have a talk with my mom like Tula did with Ava, and my mom actually just sat there and tried to actually understand what I was saying, I really feel like my own relationship with my mother would grow. 🥲 It's crazy how they have these types of talks in a show like this!! It's SO REAL and they're just playing a game of D&D! It's insane!!

And like- Viola standing up for Tula! Ugh! It was SO NICE! I LOVE Viola and Tula's relationship SO MUCH! How Viola sees Tula as a role model for her own self! I'm- It's so amazing! Tula and Viola are definitely my faves this season! I just can't with them! Rashawn did such a GREAT JOB with this season and I want to see her in more seasons! She gets so involved and attached and I can't even explain how much I enjoyed her in this season!! 😭✋

Also, Lila trying to comfort Ava near the end because Lila felt a little bad for her. Ava was getting cornered, but...the reason Ava gives for thinking and feeling that way...it kind of makes sense? Even though it's not the best thing to say or even think about and put onto yourself mentally. About like, when something bad happens, just finding someone to put blame on or saying that you haven't done enough or telling your own kids that when they lose someone. That's so tough. It's not right. But I can see why someone would feel that way. It's like- always wishing you could've done more. Because if you did more, then things like that "won't happen". But the truth of the matter is that sometimes things are just out of our control...and we have to have an understanding of that. Sometimes there really just isn't anything that could've been done. :/ As sad as that is...that is basically what Thorn was describing to Ava. Sometimes, life just HAPPENS! And you can't do anything but stand and watch.

I love how this season is scary but is also able to explore these super interesting family themes! I love it so much! It's so relatable in multiple ways and it's insane because these are stoats! It shouldn't be this relatable but it really is! I love watching shows that involve strong family dynamics! (One of the many reasons why I also love "The Umbrella Academy"!)

Family is strong! And it's so cool to see a family grow mentally, emotionally, and physically! My relationship with my family isn't the best. But it's cool to see the people inside of a family trying to talk things out and improve their relationships with each other so that they can finally bond and become stronger! 🥺 The messages here are so strong and powerful and I don't even know how else to say it or explain it in words! 🥺🥺🥺 This has been such a strong, and heartfelt season! 😭✋❤️

[littlelightfish]

The hearts don't mean he is in love with no one. The problem with English is how vague of the word love is in his meaning. It envolves different kinds of caring in one single word. But I'll try to express here what I mean.

He cares, as a person, about everyone. This is a basic level of love that he haves towards everybody. He doesn't want anyone to actually die, that's what I mean. He doesn't necesarily cares about someone, but he loves them enough to not want them to die.

He starts befriending someone and gets to know it. He starts liking things about them and disliking others. He starts loving this people in another way, we'll call it liking. This is more a get-to-know phase he doesn't always like. The less he knows, the less reasons to get attached get attached he has. I think this are the kind of love the hearts show in the image. He has to make sure to keep a balance between how much he loves and how much he let's himself be loved. He doesn't want to have misunderstandings. He is in constant fear of "what if I made them love me more and they care more?"

And then it comes the deeply care that love is in the non-romantic way. This care a (good) parent has for his babies. The love that makes people suffer emotionally in an absolute different way from what it could be a heartbreak or a misunderstanding between friends. If something happens to the loved one, the pain is unbearable. It's one of the worst things rhat can happen. And Chilchuck knows this, he is father of three daughters, and his wife left him. She left, he knows the pain it is to come home and find it empty when there should be someone. He knows the guilt it comes with failing those loved ones. The shame. He doesn't like being this vulnerable. This love makes him suffer like no other does. So he is very very carefull of how much he allows himself to care about someone so he won't get to love like this.

He draws a line between work and private life because his private life envolves love and deep care, and he doesn't want to love nor care like this for people who's job is to constantly risk their lifes. He doesn't want to feel the anguish, he doesn't want to feel the loneliness it will come after the unenviable separation of the party.

He tries his best to not get attached to people. To not let people get attached to him. But he fails. He fails and falls downstairs with a whole drum set.

He can't help but to care about this people. He can't help but to love this people he's been living with the past few weeks in the risking of their lifes. He tells himself he's doing this for money and that he doesn't care, but he does.

Those hearts don't mean anything other than him caring about them. He cares about Senshi. He cares about Marcille. He cares about Laios. About Itsuzumi. About Namari. He cares in a way that hurts. He loves this people. He doesn't want to even imagine a world in where they are gone, or suffering, or in problems. They're his friends, they're something he, unwillingly, accepts as family.

He cares about Falin and Mickbell because he doesn't want them dead. He doesn't feel any anguish toward if they do or not get hurt after they're out of his sight. Sure, he cares, but he can live without thinking about them the rest of his days. It doesn't happen like that with Laios. He can't just simply let Laios go and follow Fallin just after he recover consciousness from a punch in the gut. Was it Mickbell, he would let him if he really didn't wanted. But Laios didn't wanted to sit and wait, and he had to care. He had to verbalize to himself that he cared. He had to let them know, so they would act accordingly. So they won't get themselves killed like idiots.

He doesn't want others to fall in romantic love with him. He doesn't feel romantic love towards anyone either. He isn't the man for this kind of love. He is, in fact, afraid of it. He doesn't want to fall in love, because he's still in love with his wife. She left him because he was negligent. But since when has this become the definitive stop for love? Chilchuck knows his wife is angry at him, and she has all the reason to be so! His husband, the one she loved and cared for, gets himself in dangerous situations, treats his body poorly and almost never is home. She loves him, and it hurts her to love like this, so she leaves. Like this she won't have to look at him get himself mistreated like he does. She would have the pull in her's stomach that tells her that he could be in great danger, that she could become a widow, but she tries to calm it with his daughter's mail to him. He could never. He can't imagine a world in wich they cease to exist. A world without his wife, even if she distanced herself, without his daughters, would be a world worthless of living. He knows this. Because he cares and he loves in such a deep level that he is scared of loving anyone else like this. To become so vulnerable to emotion. This vulnerable to something bad happening.

The fact that he is so afraid of loosing his wife, even after she left him, says a lot. He still cares about her. He is still in love with her. He wants to go back to what it was before, but he can't and he know its his fault. And he respects his wife's distance because he loves her. Now, he doesn't love her in the movie way, he isnt in love like a teenager would to his first girlfriend, he doesn't want to kiss her, or hug her, or be by her side at all moments of the day. He loves her. He cares about her deeply, deeply enough that he doesn't need to be by her side to care, to love. He also respects her. He can survive without her because he knows she's better with his daughter. For sure he wants to hug, kiss and be by the side of this person he loves, it would be ideal, but he can survive without thinking about it too much. It's just like with his daughters. They're all adults that now live far from him. And he is ok with it now. He sends mail and recieves mail, and even if he misses greatly, he can manage not to think about it. Because he knows she is allright. Because he knows he fucked up. He doesn't know where he fuked up, but for his wife to leave him, at least he knows he did. They never talked about it, because they both seem to have a problem in expressing themselves. She fell into a bad mood and then she disappeared. The amount of pain he must have felt it's... let's say it's quite big.

He keeps his guard up. He doesn't want to love deeply anyone. He doesn't want to feel the emptiness, the hurt, that comes after someone so dear leaves. He knows for a fact he'll be leaving this people. He knows that they could die. If he loves, it will hurt in a way nothing else hurts. He will miss. He doesn't like missing people he cares like this. This is why he doesn't want to love. This is why he doesn't want to be loved. This is why those hearts that are almost full are his main source of concern. This is why he makes the effort to keep this feelings at bay, to love only in the friendly way and with extreme caution.

But he can't controll his own love. And he ends up caring more and more about these people. He slowly makes him a part of the dangerous love zone that family means. He is afraid to confuse someone about his feelings towards them, so he still tries to maintain distance with his abusive remarks, but this only works so far. He loves and is loved. And because of this he will suffer.

I... I extended myself a bit I see...

[okiroash]

i already blabbered about it before but i really love your take and direction with red because your direction with him really opens up a lot of perspective into his early life pre and post mt silver and just how much he was treated as rags to glory from his surroundings and how a title that is usually revered as a goal ended up suffocating him and how much it created a dampen on his livelihood that his last act towards the ones who love him for who he is is to leave them because he truly believed that his newfound reputation is already a nuisance to his mother and how he probably ruined the only friendship he had with blue when he saw just how he was rejected and pushed aside when red triumphed over him at their champion battle. just seeing the whole world around you change as you are lifted higher and higher that people treat you as more-than god to the point where all that remains at the top is you. everyone from up is just a part of the groveling masses who look up to you, with the only people who still treat you as human getting suffocated and trampled in the bounds of your popularity by your worshippers. and it hurts seeing them that way. to the point where you think that this sort of heaping mess is not needed in their life, and that mess is only there because of you. you are the reason their lives are more difficult. it's hard to look at them in the eye when they tell you they still love you. it's hard to look at yourself and say that you still deserve to be loved.

GRAAAHHHHHHH THERE RIGHT THERE.. YOU WORDED IT EXACTLY PERFECT,,, I'm really really happy to hear that,, ;; sometimes I feel embarrassed having rambled about my interpretation of red here.. so I'm joyful to receive these kind of asks... truly the title of champion had only brought suffering.. akin to a curse, having no one to blame but himself... "rags to glory" that's exactly the way to describe it!!! back then he wasn't regarded so highly and even looked down upon.. while not great- it was more preferable to red as it didn't give such a huge gap between him and everyone compared to being seen above people, it's just as dehumanizing, you wouldn't even be able to climb down from that popularity easily.. the drastic changes from mean looks to bundles of adoration.. to think the latter would be so much scarier

ohh those words near the end of the ramblings.. gosh,, I really love thinking about post-mt silver red having trouble with self-love and guilt.... that he feels like he's not punished enough for what he did, for abandoning them (but he's going through so much already, there's no need to) the constant shame looming over- of being unable to just live a life "normally"- of simply interacting with strangers had even become too scary (which in turn, makes it hard to go to a public area), of having forgotten on how to do some things because he hasn't done it in a long time.. of frequently feeling.. lost.. (edit: felt like this was vague, I don't think red cares whether or not he can fit in, it feels guilty only for this case because it made him feel like living in mt silver was nicer because of the constant of new struggles below, he couldn't imagine telling that to them... they're happy he's here and it's quite guilty when he's not) and seeing his friends help him through it- that too made him feel like a burden, he doesn't want to trouble them more!! accepting help and relying on other people is still difficult but he's working on it :') !!! healing era... this part of red's life is a tough rocky road... but he will preserve..