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#abusers always think they're right and never wrong
traumatizedjaguar · 4 months
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Abusers will force you into a position to have to defend and explain yourself because they thrive on arguing with others. The best way to stay away from their abuse is to not engage with them...But when it comes to abusers they will automatically assume you're guilty for something if you don't defend yourself and argue, they will assume you're guilty and justify bullying you over it. They put you into a position where it is double edged. Either way, they win so if you defend yourself they get a rise out of you and if you don't defend yourself they assume you're guilty and come after you. Abusers thrive off of twisting and manipulating the meaning of your body language, tone, subtleties, whether you engage or don't engage, or literally anything else.
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snekdood · 2 months
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welp, at this point if anyone in the crowd of Bad Faith People Who Stalk Me And Hate Me Bc Of Someone Else's Compulsive Lying tries to accuse me of antisemitism bc i have a vampire whos a villain in my comic, i'm gonna ask them what their take was on allll of this going on. if its anything like "israelis and/or zionists are all evil people" then ik i never have to take their opinion seriously bc they dont even know what antisemitism means.
#i will listen to jewish ppl if they have any critiques or concerns about him in my comic but the rest a yall. lol. lmao.#if you are right now perpetuating antisemitic conspiracy theories about how jewish ppl are in control of all the money n shit#how can you claim you are less antisemitic than me?#its honestly freeing to realize a lot of internet leftists dont know wtf they're talking about ever.#so now i dont gotta over think if i Am being antisemitic bc yall dont even know wtf it looks like!#i was always so worried about this possibly happening but yknow what ive realized through all of this-#a lot of yall dont know wtf you're talking about at all ever. i was worried about being dog piled but like. why should i be now#you want a reason to hate me regardless. you're gonna be bad faith and assume the most uncharitable thing regardless. why#should i care and try to cater to YOUR- a non jewish leftist's- sensibilities?#just say you hate what i make and move tf on.#stop pretending you have a moral reason. also maybe stop pretending you know whats going to happen esp if my abuser on here#gave you their rundown and understanding of my comic bc i kept so much shit a secret from them to begin with.#why tf would i share all of my comic to them. so they can steal my ideas and/or share it to everyone? yeah i already knew ahead of time#that could be something they do. and i know to never reveal anything that spoils the plot anyways.#even if they're right about the tiny amount of stuff i showed them assume they're still wrong bc they just LOVE mixing truth with lies.#its like. their favorite thing to do.#but yeah yknow if any jewish ppl have any concerns ill listen. everyone else can go fuck themselves though.#dont come up in here acting like you know what antisemitism is lmao.#honestly i should've only considered jewish ppls opinions on this to begin with. but yall really gaslit me into thinking you knew just as#much as they do about antisemitism. and now look where we are. you've revealed you dont know shit and i dont need to take you seriously.#while you spent all this time laid back thinking you Know Better bc you call yourself progressive and think thats all the work you need#to do- i was ACTUALLY learning about antisemitism and conspiracy theories so i ACTUALLY know wtf to avoid in my art#and yall are gonna really try and be bold enough to assume you know what it looks like. you havent done shit. you havent reflected on shit#you think you're already above it all when really you're only a couple steps away from regressing into a conservative.
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fagofgod · 10 months
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honestly the way people are so weird abt horde catradora would be funny if it wasnt so absolutely awful. you see a situation where one girls safety is completely dependent on the other one liking her enough to be used as a bargaining chip and think she's the one that has power in that relationship? you think she's the one who's a danger to the other? ok. cool! :|
#obv im talking abt c/a antis mainly here but. idk it applies to people who like catradora too honestly. they're pretty weird abt the horde-#-period. like making it seem like they were always/mostly happy and healthy b4 the sword is a little weird since we SEE their horde dynamic#they obviously enjoy each others company and care for each other but. bc of their fundamental misunderstanding atp they cant be what each-#other wants/needs catra doesnt understand why adora is Like That and gets upset at adora bc she thinks adora getting unfair privilege AGAIN#-and shes RIGHT. but neither her or adora rly grasp that this isn't actly a good thing. so catras jabs r gg to hurt adora who believes shes#-actly HELPING catra. and even ignoring that she *blames catra for SW's abuse*. she still doesn't really try to understand why catra is mad#-at all. (its bc adora is getting unfair advantages over her. again.) < which ofc adora doesn't acknowledge. she cant! not without breaking#-the idea that she CAN protect catra from SW. that the horde is fair and good. so ofc she brushes catras hurt aside to make it abt herself.#and from the way they both seem. used to this dynamic. were meant to get that this is what its always like right.#them blaming each other for things they cant rly control. etc etc.#but. idk. theres a tendency in post series content to erase that adora actually harms catra quite a lot.#and they either make it seem like Nothing Was Wrong in the horde btwn them or that somehow catra had the upper hand in the relationship.#which. again. the point of the post.#ok wow i shld never talk again what is all this#spop#ughhhh
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genderkoolaid · 3 months
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yeah, but you do mean 'loveless' like 'romanceless' right? Just cause you're not interested in a romantic partnership, and you're never attracted to anyone romantically, that doesn't mean you can't love your family and your friends. Am I understanding wrong? I feel like it's a widely accepted concept that 'love' isn't just romantic, it's about caring about someone, no matter if they're your family or platonic friend or your pet.
No, "loveless" means love-less. Another anon also asked me to explain as well so:
"Lovelessness" in the aro context comes from the essay I Am Not Voldemort by K.A Cook. The essay confronts normative ideas on love, its inherent positivity and what it means to not love. From the introduction, which brings up the question of non-romantic love:
This June, I saw an increasing number of positivity and support posts for the aromantic and a-spec communities discussing the amatonormativity of “everyone falls in love”. I agree: the idea that romantic love is something everyone experiences, and is therefore a marker of human worth, needs deconstruction. Unfortunately, a majority of these posts are replacing the shackles of amatonormativity with restrictive lines like “everyone loves, just not always romantically”, referencing the importance of loving friends, QPPs, family members and pets. Sometimes it moves away from people to encompass love for hobbies, experiences, occupations and ourselves. The what and how tends to vary from post to post, but the idea that we do and must love someone or something, and this love redeems us as human and renders us undeserving of hatred, is being pushed to the point where I don’t feel safe or welcome in my own aromantic community. Even in the posts meant to be challenging the more obvious amatonormativity, it is presumed that aros must, in some way, love. I’ve spent weeks watching my a-spec and aro communities throw neurodiverse and survivor aros under the bus in order to do what the aromantic community oft accuses alloromantic aces of doing: using their ability to love as a defence of their humanity. Because I love, they say, I also don’t deserve to be a target of hatred, aggression and abuse. But what if I don’t love? What if love itself has been the mechanism of the hatred and violence I have endured? Why am I, an aro, neurodiverse survivor of abuse and bullying, still acceptable collateral damage?
The author criticizes the idea of "true love" that is incapable of harm. Ze questions why we construct love in that way, and how it ignores and simplifies the experiences of victims of abuse ("It’s comforting to think that a love that wounds isn’t real love, but it denies the complexity of experience and feeling had by survivors. It denies the complexity of experience and feeling that makes it harder for us to identify abuse and escape its claws. It denies the validity of survivors who look at love and feel an honest doubt about its worth, as a word or a concept, in our own interactions and experiences.") Ze talks about being forced to say "I love you" to transphobic, abusive parents whose feelings of love was the justification for their abuse.
The core of what "loveless" as an concept is about is summed up in this quote:
There is no substantial difference between saying “I’m human because I fall in love”, “I’m human because I love my friends” and “I’m human because I love calligraphy”. All three statements make human worth contingent on certain behaviours, feelings and experiences. Expanding the definition of what kinds of love make us human does nothing but save some aros from abuse and antagonism … while telling survivor and neurodiverse aros, who are more likely to have complex relationships to love as a concept or are unable to perform it in ways recognised by others, that we’re still not worthy.
Lovelessness is against any kind of statement which quantifies humanity (and implicitly, human worth) in the ability to feel or act or experience certain things. Humans are human by virtue of being human, and nothing else. And, it is socially constructed! "Love" has no natural definition! Some people are not comfortable using "love" to describe positive feelings and relationships, and some people do not feel those positive feelings in general. And those people deserve the right to define their own experiences and their own relationship to the social construct of love.
In essence, lovelessness is both a personal as well as (in my opinion) a political identity, born from aro and mad experiences that challenges not just amatonormativity but all ideas that associate personhood and worth with the ability to feel certain things.
& as a note, there is also the term "lovequeer" which describes using the term "love" in ways which contradict mainstream understandings of what it means to love, and which kinds of love are considered worthwhile.
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omg pls write more of what you just posted of rafe with that age gap it's sooo hot 😭 like something about the reader being bratty on purpose and sassing him
cw: dark!rafe x younger!reader, 29 and 19, non-con/rape, drug use, intoxicated reader, talks of free use and public sex, abusive relationship
note: is this too dark, yes or no
rafe HATES when you disobey at parties. ever since you two have started dating, you have a bad habit of misbehaving at parties to get more attention from rafe. whether that be overdrinking, snorting coke, smoking weed, or flirting with other guys. all of these being things that you KNOW rafe disapproves of.
tonight, it happened to be a mix of all of them. you went to the restroom and came back to rafe talking with one of his ex girlfriends, sofia. you completely being oblivious to the fact that he was telling her off. you huff and head back into the room where topper and kelce sit.
they're doing lines and drinking, sitting on opposite sides of a loveseat.
"hey, y/n, have a seat," topper politely greets you, gesturing to an empty chair beside the loveseat but you smile and sit inbetween topper and kelce. they give eachother a look but say nothing.
"whatcha guys doin?" you ask, looking over toppers shoulder as he sets up a line.
"coke, nothing you should concern yourself with."
"yeah rafe would kill us if he knew you were anywhere near this," kelce comments.
"hes too busy bein up sofia's pussy to care. can i do a line?"
kelce and topper both look at you at this comment, a little shocked. they knew rafe and how loyal he was to you, he never even so much as entertained another girl.
"you saw him up her pussy?" kelce asks, confused.
"well no but- it doesnt even matter, just let me do a line."
"sweetheart i dont think-" topper starts.
"pleaseeeeee?" you beg, giving him puppy eyes.
topper sighs and glances to kelce who shrugs. eventually topper responds, "okay fine, sweetie, but you cannot tell rafe."
"i won't, promise! ill even pinky promise if you want!"
topper stares at you for a moment, finding your innocence both endearing and hot at the same time. too bad you aren't his. topper sets up a line for you and gently guides you onto your knees in front of the table. he gives you the dollar bill and guides you as you snort it. you let it sit for a minute, not feeling anything, then it hits. and you want more.
"again!" you say, looking at topper, feeling your brain begin to buzz.
"yeah no i don't-"
"what the fuck are you doing?"
your eyes shoot to the doorway. rafe stands there, arms crossed, hair messy, blood on his knuckles, and he looks pissed.
"rafey!" you greet him, trying to pretend you didn't just snort cocaine. you stand up, swaying, and subsequently falling back onto the couch.
"what the fuck guys?" rafe questions, walking over to you. he looks pissed, "how much did you give her?"
"just a line, man, she asked for it. quite literally," kelce speaks first and topper agrees.
"i didn't know you don't let her do that man, im sorry-" topper defends himself and rafe shakes his head, calming down a bit.
"nah you're good, man. it's her fault. come on, princess, we have some business to discuss." rafe says through gritted teeth, roughly grabbing your arm and heading to his room. once you're upstairs and away from people, he starts scolding you, "what the fuck were you thinking? you know so much better than that."
"you were talking to Sof-"
"yeah i was telling her to go suck a fucking dick. then i beat the shit out of her boyfriend for calling you a whore. but maybe he was right, you don't think about anyone but yourself, huh? always just assuming. saw the way you were staring at top." rafe speaks with no sympathy and you two slip into his bedroom. he presses you down onto the bed, holding your hands behind your back as he flips your little skirt up, "no panties? you fucking serious? god what is wrong with you? you stupid little whore."
you hear his belt unbuckle and your head continues buzzing from your high. soon enough, you feel his cock, pushing into you. it's immediately too much.
"rafe-! no no no-"
"don't tell me fucking no, bitch. act like a whore, get treated like one. maybe i should've just fucked you downstairs," rafe starts, setting a fast pace with his thrusts, not hearing any of your protests, "or maybe i should tie you up down there, let all these drunk men use your holes since you wanna disobey. i think that's a fair punishment, huh? i try to be nice and defend your honor and you make eyes at two of my best friends. fucking bitch."
"rafe i didn't- i don't want this- stop!" you beg but rafe doesn't care. he simply tugs your hair in response as you start crying. your head is pounding and it's all too much.
"that's it, cry for it, bitch. this is my fucking pussy and i'm gonna use it when i want. now whine one more time and i'm gonna make this pussy free use to the entire island."
you whimper and stay quiet in response. you think about leaving rafe, but you can't, you love him and maybe you even secretly loved being fucked against your will.
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queers-gambit · 8 months
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When The World Seems So Cruel
prompt: ( requested ) Billy knows something's bothering his girl, so, he follows his instincts and checks on her - family, friends, and slutty cheerleaders in bikinis be damned.
pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Stranger Things
word count: 5.1k+
warnings: cursing, smut 'cause why not, boys being assholes 'cause they're losers, misogyny, toxic / abusive / neglectful family, description of background violence, angst, did Cherry really write it if there wasn't a helluva lot of projection and need for revocation of internet access?
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"Miss Cahill? I'm sorry to interrupt," you half-smiled at your math professor, "but I was just wondering if you still had my test? I never got mine back."
"Right," she cleared her throat, glancing around your body to see most of the class empty at that point. "I wanted to talk to you about that," she paused to pull out your test from a manilla folder. "I was very shocked to grade this under your name, honey, you're usually such a well-focused and high-achievin' student, I mean, you're on track for the Nat Scholarship! So, to see this... Was shockin', it's... Not your best work," she winced, handing the packet over.
You blinked in shock, frowning as anxiety mounted in your chest when you saw the glaring F in red marker. You mumbled in embarrassment, "I guess I've just been off my game..."
"Honey," Miss Cahill sighed in her light country accent, leaning on her desk with both fists so your eyes met hers, "I can always tell when one of my students is goin' through somethin' at home."
You froze, shaking your head, "No, no, it's not... It's not so bad."
"What's goin' on?"
You shrugged, "I've just been... Really tired," you decided on excusing, hoping beyond hope it was enough.
It wasn't, of course it wasn't. Miss Cahill just sighed and offered, "I can let you retake the test next week - but only after you go see the guidance counselor."
"Right... Um, yeah, okay, yeah, sounds good; um, thanks, Miss Cahill."
You made an escape, distracted by the third failing test you received this week; nearly barreling straight into a meaty, solid chest. "Woah, hey, no need to run 'round lookin' for the man of your dreams, I'm right here, doll," Billy teased, hands grabbing your upper arms to steady you. "What's got you inna rush, baby? You know I pick you up after this class."
You smiled in brief distraction, "Yeah, sorry, baby, I was just thinking about this essay coming up. Hi," you offered, stretching up on your toes to kiss him in greeting. "How're you?"
He half-smirked, "I'm good, you know Mr. Brunson's got a stick up his ass as usual."
"Mhm. As usual, and totally has nothing to do with you provoking him," you teased, latching onto his waist as you shoved your test deep in your shoulder-bag. You neared his locker, and you managed to choke out, "Hey, um... Y-You wanna get outta here?"
Billy offered you a look of mild confusion, smirking with a strange laugh, "You wanna ditch school?"
"Maybe."
"Why?"
"I'm just tired," you offered meekly, "I feel like I haven't slept in a week."
Billy lead you up to his locker, hand on your waist to keep you close as he mused, "This feels like a setup."
"It's not, I promise."
He yanked the metal door open, "Uh-huh. You told me when I met you that I'd have to practically kidnap you to get you to skip class. Huh? 'Member all that? All them lectures you gave me 'bout the importance of goin' t'class if I wanna do anything after this shithole?"
"Yeah, but things change, Bee."
Billy's face dropped, shoving his books into his open locker before turning, leaning his shoulder on the locker next to his, arms crossed as he stared at you. "What's wrong?" He questioned sharply.
"Billy, I'm just tired."
"No, it's something else. What's wrong? What's goin' on?"
You sighed, "You know what? It's okay, nevermind, I actually promised Eddie that I'd help him make those banners for SGA during lunch today, so," you glanced around, "I'm gonna go."
"Nah, baby, hol' up, I ain't mean - "
"I know, handsome," you promised softly, nodding as you reached for his waist to give a squeeze and keep him close. "I just forgot I told a friend I'd help them out, so, I'll just see you after, yeah?"
One hand rose to pet over your cheek, sighing, "You sure you're good? You don't look okay, sugar."
"I'm good," you nodded, deflating into his embrace and hearing him chuckle. "I'm just stretched thin this week, probably shouldn't make promises to my delinquent friends with all the college drama to worry about."
"What'd Munson do this time to only get banner-duty? Huh?"
"Probably got caught skipping or something," you mumbled against his pectoral; inhaling the scent of his mall-bought cologne and finding it a refreshing change from the CVS-brand he used when you first met. "School did something right by makin' everyone in detention serve the SGA for all their shit."
"Definitely got me to shape up," he joked, pecking the top of your head before finishing, "but I mostly missed out on time with you."
"Hey... I was thinking, maybe I can come over this weekend? Keep Max company, maybe keep Neil at bay? Can have a sleepover, too, if you want."
Now Billy's head cocked and his expression hardened, "The fuck you wanna come over for? You know how tense shit gets - "
"Billy."
"Nah, you're not makin' sense, pretty girl," he snapped, pulling back to stare down at you. "What's going on with you? You don't wanna be at home or something? The fuck's goin' on that's so bad you'd rather be at my place?"
You felt tongue tied, but the bell rang shrilly and literally saved you from needing to answer. "Shit, I gotta run, baby. I'll find you later, okay?" You promised, lifting onto your toes to kiss him, promising, "I love you."
He frowned, grumbling, "Yeah, love you, too." He watched you vacate the hall, his mind basically going blank to all other thought beside you. The entire lunch period, he sat on the hood of his car, chain smoking, wondering where he went wrong; what he did to upset you; what could be going on and most importantly, why you couldn't say anything to him about it.
However, after lunch, Billy found you in the library's designated SGA room and thought you appeared ten times as relaxed, laughing with Eddie Munson. When the punk caught Billy's eye, he nodded in respect; gesturing for you to look, and your head turned with a smile. You parted from Eddie and trotted up to Billy, feeling relieved when he grabbed you in a possessive hold; searing his lips to yours.
"Hi," you giggled.
"You seem happy."
"Kinda hard to be in a bad mood around Eddie."
"I can see," he lead you away. He wanted to bring back up about whatever was bothering you, but didn't; fearing ruining your joyful mood. Instead, his fingers just tangled with yours and you entered history together.
What should've been a decently peaceful class turned into a state of confusion for you and Billy when the intercom kicked on, the front office asking for your presence with the principal. Billy glared at the speaker box as you cast him a look of doubt, both confused by the summons; being all too used to them calling his name instead. All of history passed miserably; Billy alone without his favorite person to keep him on track and becoming antsy the longer you were gone. When you didn't return by the end of class, he grabbed anything you left and begrudgingly went to the last two classes of the day.
When the final bell rang, Billy waited for you at his car for a solid 25 minutes with several cigarettes being burned, but when you still didn't show, he grew worried. So, he stored everything in his Camaro, not needing to worry about his sister because Max got a ride home with her new bestie, Jane, and her father, Jim Hopper, and stormed through the school. Anger radiated off his very being, nearly stomping his steps, and just before he got to the front lobby, he saw you exiting the office.
You didn't notice him at first, and for a moment, Billy thought you were going to hurl whatever was on your stomach as you held a few pieces of paper in shaking hands. "Baby," he called your attention, finding your eyes light up at the sight of him. "The hell's goin' on? You were gone the rest of the day, I got worried."
"Yeah, it was some shit wrong with my college applications, but we got it straightened out," you lied, stepping into his embrace. "I'm sorry I worried you, handsome."
He met your lips in a kiss, promising, "Not your fault. C'mon, day's over, our weekend can start once we get the hell outta here."
"Hmm," you hummed dreamily. "Lemme go to my locker and we can get gone."
Billy didn't mind waiting, and when you were done at your locker, he escorted you to his car; only a few students still lingering after hours. He opened your passenger door, winking at you, then quickly jogged to his side and slid in. "C'mere," he breathed, reaching for your cheek instantly; hand sliding along the back of your neck and bringing you in close.
You moaned when Billy's lips molded to yours; all but instantly salivating when his tongue tangled with your own in a messy dance. You had a few rules about PDA, especially in school; but being in his car was neural territory and Billy needed a way to expel his neediness. Praising God for making today steadily warm and that you wore a skirt, you were ready to cry when Billy's hand came down to grip the meat of your thigh.
"Billy," you rushed when his hand traveled under your skirt to ghost over your panties.
"Nobody's here t'watch," he smirked. "C'mon, lemme do this for you, pretty girl. You don't wanna go home yet, right? Ain't got some curfew?"
"Nope," you surged forward to slam your lips to his, moaning when his hand now confidently pet your panties as your legs spread all the wider to encourage him.
"Good girl," he praised quickly, skimming the apex of your thigh to hook your panties and pull them to the side. "Mhm," he hummed with a cocky smirk, "I knew you liked getting fucked in public. Feel how fuckin' wet you are - shit, Goddamn."
You mewled; tension mounting as you tightened up from the stoking pleasure. "Billy - " You gasped when he plunged his fingers into your cunt, easily sliding in due to your arousal. "Ohhh, fuck," you breathed, eyes shut and mouth agape in pleasure, "needed this - needed this so bad. Just needed you."
"You'll get so much more, baby."
You whimpered, "Now, please. Please, please, please."
He smirked, "Wanna get in the back or ride me, princess? Huh? Tell me what you need."
Your eyes locked with his as you thought it over, but then, you smirked as you readjust the passenger seat and turned so your ass was propped up. It gave him a full view of your messy cunt; panties askew from his previous motions and fluid rubbed all around. Billy reached out with one hand to plunge his pointer and middle finger back into your core, the other wrangling open his belt, button, and jean zipper in frantic movements.
He shimmied from the garments and sat up, following your lead in adjusting his seat. He instantly mounted behind you over the center console, licking his palm and stroking his himself to life as he drug his cockhead up and down your wetness.
Billy reached out to move your panties once more, line himself up, and plunge full-hilt. You gasped and grunted, letting yourself be shoved forward a little to catch on the seat; Billy hissing between his teeth as your warmth enveloped him in a sticky-wetness. "Hang on, doll, ah, fuck, there we go," he chuckled, readjusting his position before starting to move his hips to create the most delicious friction.
"Fuuuuck, Billy!" You whined when he held both your hips with only one hand keeping your panties to the side.
"Needed this, too," he chuckled. "Good girl, fuckin' taking me so well. You'd let me do anything, wouldn't you? Fuck you however I want to, huh? Yeah," he lifted one hand to smack the meat of your bottom, creating a ripple; liking the way you twitched and delivered two more, finishing, "I know my pretty baby would let me do whatever I fucking wanted with her - " he clenched his teeth, hips punctuating his words, "'cause she was fuckin' made for me."
"Yes," you moaned, mind blank from all the previous drama of your day; ready to weep like a bitch in heat, "anything, baby, yes, yes, yes, anything you want."
"Good girl," he laughed ruefully; picking up the pace to fuck you outta your mind as he ensured you felt every throbbing vein of his engorged cock. He chased his own orgasm as you were charged with your own; hand reaching for your clit to start applying pressure in tight circles. "Let me cum in you, sweetheart. C'mon, baby, tell me I can cum in you - in this pretty pussy - in my pretty pussy - lemme fuckin' cum in you."
"Billy, fuck - yes, baby, yes! Yes, harder, please, fuck me harder and you can cum wherever you want."
"Even your ass?"
"Yes, Daddy, yes, anything you want! Fuck my ass full of your cum, please, fuck, I need it! Whatever you want, I need. Please!"
Billy's golden curls stuck to his forehead and neck, entire car rocking with frantic, animalistic movements - but anyone lingering around the school to see it wasn't surprised. Billy felt like he went faster than usual, that he got a little rougher; but he was nearing his end and it was hard to keep pace. When you cried out and legs shook from your flash-bang of an orgasm, he knew you had finished and could focus on his own; never pulling out.
He'd fuck your ass later.
"Fuck!" Billy came with a shout; shooting hot, salty, opaque white ropes of cum into your quivering cunt. He stuttered his hips into the meat of your ass, balls contracting; emptying himself inside you as you relished in the feeling of his warmth flooding your lower belly. He chuckled, mocking, "Might just have to get you off that pill so I can get you fucking pregnant already."
"Whatever Daddy wants."
Billy laughed as he pulled out of you slowly, instantly turning again to crash into his driver seat. You went a little limp but managed to turn over, both panting as the windows were fogged up; but aired out when Billy rolled two down to light up his cigarette. "So," he spoke through his inhale and deep breaths, "you wanna tell me whats wrong now?"
"Hmm?"
"Why're you so distracted? Distant? Even with me?"
You felt panicked by the confrontation, resorting to your last line of defense. "Just dealing with a lot," you answered as your legs spread as wide as you could to start toying with your beaten-pussy. He watched with a stoic expression as you used your fingers to stuff his dripping-cum back inside you. "'S been stressful, guess I just had a bad day," you whined lightly, still playing.
"Fuck's sake."
"Hmm?" You feigned innocence.
"You're just askin' for it, huh?"
"Maybe," you pouted, "or maybe I just need your cum - "
"Cut it out, we gotta go," he snickered, turning the key in the ignition. "Your dad hates me enough, can't have you late for family dinner."
You went quiet as your thoughts were plagued with a screaming voice that begged Billy to just read your mind and understand what was wrong - why you were so upset, so panicked. But you knew better. So, you flipped down your skirt and readjusted yourself, sucking your fingers of his cum before letting his hand tangle with one of yours on your lap.
"Maybe you'd wanna come over tonight?" You asked softly. "Go see a movie or something?"
"You never wanna go out on Friday nights," he chuckled, but something felt terribly wrong about the notion. "You do homework and study on Friday and Sunday nights, you said it was a relationship rule, huh?"
"Things can change," you pouted.
"I told Tommy and Ryan I'd hang with them and the guys tonight," Billy spoke slowly. "But I can cancel if you - "
"No, no, don't," you shook your head, "go see your friends. 'Cause I'll see you in the morning, right?"
"Right."
"And I can stay the night... Right?"
Billy nodded, "Anytime you want, baby, yeah."
"Okay, cool," you spoke softly, deflating in his seat when he pulled up to your house. "Um..." You stared up at the home as if it were haunted. "Do you wanna come in for a little?"
His head tilted and brows furrowed, "I have to pick up Max from Hopper's, remember?"
"Right!" You gaped, but didn't move.
"What's wrong?" He asked with a hardened tone, making you gulp lightly. "You don't wanna go in?"
"I could, like, just go with you?"
"Baby, the fuck's going on? Know I hate repeating myself and shit, so just fucking tell me - maybe I can fucking help."
"Nothing, no, it's just, it's nothing, I'm sorry, I just - I'm sorry," you chuckled. "Guess I'm PMSing and feel clingy or something."
He only hummed as you leaned over to kiss him in parting. Both promised you love each other before you got out, jogging up the driveway and opening the front door; pausing to wave at him and then disappear in the house.
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"Yo, dickhead! Hey! Grab me a beer!" Tommy Hagan called to Ryan Sheen as he went to rummage in his uncle's basement fridge. "And grab Billy one, too!"
"Nah, I'm good," Billy refused, glancing at the can in his hand. It was still half-full. He didn't feel like drinking after having time to sit and think about your behavior the past few days, worrying about you more than he wanted to get drunk.
"What?" Tommy laughed obnoxiously, smacking his teeth after. "You don't want a second? What's wrong with you, got some test you gotta study for?" He laughed at his own joke. In Tommy H.'s mind, only fucking losers study on Friday nights.
"Nah," Billy eased, setting his can down as he felt his irritation flare. He was annoyed at Tommy, sure, but also by the idea that something was wrong with you and you didn't trust him enough to say anything. "I actually gotta go, you guys," Billy stood.
"What?" Now Ryan scoffed, slapping a can of beer to Tommy's open hand. "You're not serious, dude! We've only been here, fuckin' what? Half an hour, bro!" He sucked his teeth in annoyance, rolling his eyes, "C'mon, we were going to Alicia's pool party tonight - you're supposed to give us a ride! The fuck's more important than the slutty cheerleaders in bikinis?"
"That Maria chick's been all over you, too," Tommy laughed. "You can't tell us a single thing that's better than Maria Thomas, all soaped up, in that tiny bikini she wore for the car wash. It's all our wet dreams come to life, Billy, you can't seriously consider missing that!"
"Not everybody's desperate to see Maria's tit-job. You know what? Whatever, man, I gotta go see my girl," he tugged his jean jacket on, tugging his blonde curls out of the collar.
Ryan rolled his eyes as Tommy laughed, "No way. Nuh-uh. You're seriously going to fuckin' ditchin' us for that chick?"
"Man, fuck you, guys, I'm ditching your dumbasses for my girl," Billy snapped. "Better what your fucking mouths and how you talk about her."
"Whatever, man. You're just whipped."
"She got you on some leash or some shit? Got you on a curfew like she's your mommy?" Ryan rolled his eyes, groaning, "Seriously, dude, we only see you at practice now!"
"Look, I just know something's up with her, so, I gotta check on - "
"So, what!? She ain't even tell you why she's pissed off? C'mon, man, that is such a stupid fuckin' tactic chicks use to get guys to go crawling back to their spoiled asses! Bitches do the pettiest shit to get us to suck up to them and shit."
Billy turned and easily caught Tommy by the collar of his shirt before he could even let go of his beer can, slamming the loudmouth into the wall as the aluminum can clattered. Ryan and the two other irrelevant guys left in the basement could only freeze, knowing Billy Hargrove's aggression and not wanting to become part of the receiving end.
"I told you to watch your fucking mouth," Billy seethed.
"Fuck offuva me!" Ryan pushed Billy's arms off. "She's just some bitch, bro, you've already fucked most of the school - what's so different with her?"
Billy scoffed, nodding in amusement as he backed off a few steps. "You know? If I wanna go hang with my girl instead of you deadbeat dickheads, 's exactly what I'm gonna do. Not my fault y'all ain't shit and don't know what it means to keep a chick happy."
"Fuck off, Billy! You're so fucking pussy whipped!" Tommy barked. "Ditching us for that crybaby! Dude, it's not even real! She didn't even tell you whatever she's all upset about! You just had a feeling, so, just sit the fuck down, finish your drink, down a fuckin' second beer, and then let's go to the party! See some bitches that are actually worth seeing!"
Billy shook his head, "I ever hear y'all talkin' about my girl like this again," he chuckled dryly, "might be the last time y'all can even form words. Fuck yourselves," he sneered.
Billy didn't hesitate to storm out of the room, ignoring their jeers and sneers about him being "pussy whipped" and all their complaints about him skipping out on being their ride to "the hottest party of the year." The door slammed behind him, rattling a few windows; making a beeline for his Camaro and pausing at the trunk. He found a pair of your sports shoes you'd eventually need, grabbed them in a white-knuckle grip, then got in the driver's seat and peeled away.
When Billy got to your house, he noticed the lights in your bedroom were barely turned on; knowing you didn't like overhead lighting and probably had a string of lights plugged in. On the contrary, the rest of the house seemed wide awake - every single downstairs light turned on. He grabbed your shoes and his school books (left in his backseat) and got out of his parked car, approach the front door, and paused when a barrage of voices suddenly met his ears. He froze.
The screams were full of hate, and while he couldn't make out distinct words, he heard both your mother and father's elevated voices. It was relentless, it was full of anger and hate and confusion and accusations and Billy wasn't sure how long he stood there with his fist raised. With a deep breath, Billy finally knocked at the door... Then again... Then again... And again, using the metal knocker to bang rapidly. He heard the voices lower and stopped knocking; taking a step back, then waited with his best look of indifferent innocence.
When the door ripped open, Billy was greeted by your angry-looking mother, who didn't look at who was at the door when she snarled, "What the fuck do you want!?"
"Uh, yeah, um, hi, ma'am..." Billy waved awkwardly.
"Oh, Billy," she gasped. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize it was you, sweetie. What's wrong? What - What time - ? Do you know what time it is?"
"Yes, ma'am, I'm sorry to interrupt so late, but nothing is wrong," he assured. "I just know your daughter's a little forgetful when there's a test comin' up," he chuckled, holding up the shoes and his books, "and she promised to help me nail this essay for my college portfolio... Did I use that correctly? Portfolio? She's always tryna broaden my vocabulary," he chuckled smoothly.
She smiled warmly, another victim to his charming influence, "Sure, honey, yes, of course, it's Friday or something, right, of course you can come in. C'mon, c'mon in." She stepped out the way to let Billy enter into the foyer. "Baby Girl's just upstairs in her room," she gestured with a wine glass Billy just noticed towards the staircase as she used your childhood nickname. They paused at the grand bannister, her eyes rolling when there came the muffled pounding of a bass-line from some song turned up to the max. "She's always blasting her music now adays, it'll make her deaf," your mother scoffed, taking a long sip, then waved him up. "Go on, get up there, good luck on your essay."
"Thank you, Miss Lady," he purred with a small smirk; nodding as he then watched her retreat to the sitting room, and barely a moment later, your father was exiting the kitchen.
"Billy," he greeted stiffly, glass of scotch in hand.
"Sir," Billy replied with a nod of respect, stepping out of his shoes (per household rules) to leave your parents at the front of the house's sitting room; beginning his ascent to the second level. He'd been there before, so, locating your room was like muscle memory; knocking when he approached the door and pausing when he only heard blaring music.
Another knock, no answer. So Billy opened your door.
You were sat on the ground, back against your bed, record player spinning, and the window you faced cracked open to waft the cigarette smoke out. His heart clenched when he saw you, your sadness nearly tangible as light made your tear-tracks on your cheeks glitter. "Baby," Billy spoke softly, watching you jump in shock. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I tried to knock."
You nodded absently, "Music's on."
"Yeah, 's a good song," he allotted as he shut your door securely and asked, "want it locked?"
"Doesn't lock," you answered robotically, looking back out the window.
"Can I turn the music down, baby, please? Real hard t'hear you."
You nodded and he lowered the volume - but when he did, he understood why you had it so high. Your parents could be heard arguing downstairs, and even with an entire floor between you, it was still loud. So, he turned the music up just a little, frowned, and moved beside you, grunting lightly as his tight jeans constricted while he sat.
"Can I?" He asked, pointing at the cigarette. You handed it over mutely, your usual quip of "it's may I, not can I," nowhere to be heard. After two puffs, he meant to hand it back, but instead, you just fell into his side as if all energy you had to keep you up was depleted; a nearly drowned-out whimper emitting. Billy saw the coffee mug you had been using as an ashtray and dropped the cigarette instantly, using both arms to tug you into his lap.
Billy held you in a fetal position, gently and slowly squeezing you into his chest as he needed to feel you close; and you evidently needed to feel physical love. Billy had to gulp harshly when he felt your tears soak his shirt first, then the jerking of your shoulders; quivering of your body. This long week had finally caught up.
"Baby," he sighed, kissing your forehead. And instead of asking the idiotic and repetitive 'are you okay?', Billy instead just asked in a hush, "Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"
Through your tears, you answered in a hiccuping-hush, "I didn't want it to be real."
Billy just sighed again, pulling you in tighter so you set under his chin. He let you simply rest, he just wanted to feel close to you... But something caught his eye. About three feet from you was your slumped, turned-over backpack; spewing contents as if it had been tossed aside in a fit of rage. What was interesting, though, was the crumpled pieces of paper; at least one sporting a huge, uppercase F circled in red marker.
"Yeah?" He whispered, sighing as he wanted to bite his tongue but couldn't. "Seems real enough to fuck up your grades though, huh?"
"I can retake the tests."
"You're gonna have to study."
"I know... 'S kinda hard to study here, though. Can't really focus on anything when all that's, you know, going on."
"No shit, Sherlock."
You snorted through your tears, "Don't make me laugh, I'm sad."
He smirked, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Listen, I'll just... We'll go to the library for tonight, and after, we can go to my place. How's that?"
"Thought you weren't allowed overnight visitors?"
"I'm not, but sneakin' inna my place can't be worse than tryna focus while here, right? Gotta be better than listening to this shit."
You nodded against his neck as a distant glass shattered, making you relent, "Touché."
"C'mon," he decided, kissing your forehead again, "pack a bag, baby. You're comin' with me - don't gotta stay here. Not tonight. Gonna come stay with me."
You pulled back just enough to ask, "Yeah?"
"Yeah, pretty girl," he smirked, caressing your cheek. "Might even let you do that green face goop thing you love bothering me about."
"It's an avocado face mask, and when your skin is literally glowing, you can thank me then."
Billy grinned down at you, taking the moment to swoop down and connect your lips in a long kiss; breathing each other in. When a second shatter sounded from downstairs, you flinched away, but Billy was quick to hush, "Hey, hey, hey," and when your eyes met his, he assured, "you're safe with me. Always safe with me." You nodded, tears shining in your eyes. "And you don't ever have to hide these parts of you - not from me. Never from me. I love you, pretty girl," he whispered, "and all parts that make you exactly who you are. Family included."
"I don't deserve you," you whispered.
"Nah, what you don't deserve is dealing with this shit. So, c'mon, get a bag together. We'll come back for what you need later, but get something together for the weekend."
You thanked him with a kiss, and while you got your things together, Billy mutely reached out to examine the pages in his grasp. He sighed, noting the three different failing tests and knew he had to "step up" his "boyfriend game" if he truly wanted to help you; and for the first time, he knew, without any selfish motives, he honestly did. He figured, for all you've done for him, providing you with something akin to a safe environment was a drop in the bucket; shoving those tests back into your school bag, standing, and helping you gather the last of your necessities.
Who needed slutty cheerleaders in soaped-up bikinis when this, right here, was what true love was? Shockingly, not Billy Hargrove.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Stranger Things masterlist
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a-sip-of-milo · 7 months
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Need a reason to live?
Recently, I made four polls with eleven reasons to live in each. Most of those reasons were given to me by people who have also been suicidal in the past, and I decided to compile them into one long list (plus some) for anyone who needs it to come back to when they're out of reasons to keep going.
⚠️ Disclaimer: Please do not turn this into one of those "ALWAYS REBLOG IF YOU SEE" posts. Thank you. ⚠️
Relationships
Your furry companion(s) (this means pets and friends who are furries <3)
Your friends
Your family
Those who look up to you
To reconnect with someone you haven't seen in a while
Your headmates (specific to those who are apart of systems)
There's someone who isn't around anymore who would want you to keep going
To eventually be a mentor to someone
To make sure your animals never have to sleep alone
To fall in love
Your partner
To meet your online friends/mutuals
To tell your mentor/the people who raised you with kindness that you made it
To see someone close to you through their final days
To make it big enough to eventually provide for those you care about
Your FP (personality disorder specific)
Group photos with your (found) family and friends
To help your friends do the same
The friends you've yet to meet
A promise you made to someone special
Acts of kindness
To be there when someone needs you
To see someone smile because of you
To make a stranger's day a little brighter
To hand out compliments to those who need it
To make the world a little bit better before you go
To treat the people around you the way you wish you'd been treated
To be the one person in someone's life who is there unconditionally.
To help someone you love to quit an addiction
To do charitable deeds
Affection
Hugs from someone you trust
Kisses from a partner, close friend or pet
Cuddles when it's cold/lonely
To laugh until your stomach hurts
Forehead touches
To hold someone so tight that they're wheezing
Doting on people when they're feeling down
To make the people around you laugh
Interests
That new game/movie/show/book/album/etc. that you’ve been waiting for
Telling everyone and anyone who will listen about your special interest/hyperfixations
To share creations that aren't appreciated enough
To save up for something that would make life more bearable
To finally complete a collection
Projects would be left unfinished
To travel
To complete a project you've been working on for a long period of time
Projects you've yet to come up with
To start participating in special interests you've had to put on hold
To laugh at the creations you made when you were younger and less experienced
Those who consume your work would never get to see another creation of yours
Spite (because I think spite deserves Its own section:))
To stick it to your abusers
To prove your younger self wrong
To prove the people around you wrong
To prove your younger self right
To prove the people around you right
To spit on the grave of someone who hurt you
As a big 'fuck you' to the world and everyone in it who tried to silence you
To outlive your enemies
To do something that you've never been allowed to do (get a piercing, tattoo, cut or dye your hair, etc.)
To show off your success to the people who doubted you
To make sure whoever hurt you doesn't win
Milestones
You've got a milestone of some kind that you'd like to reach before you go
To see your (future) children reach a milestone of their own
To see a birthday you never thought you'd make it to
To graduate from school
To see your wounds from self-harm heal
To experience old age
To get married
To recover from your eating disorder
To experience independence
To start/complete your transition
To go on your first date
To get your first job
To adopt a child and give them the life that they deserve
To rescue a pet and give them a home
To purchase your first car
To rent/purchase your first house/apartment
To have your first child
To lose your virginity
To experience the joy of knowing you escaped/got through a bad situation
To eventually publish your own book/art piece/etc.
Miscellaneous
To finally get diagnosed with something important
So if nothing else, you can still say you survived
You have a bucket list you'd like to complete
To live because you want to, not because others want you to
Comfort drinks with someone you love
You wrote a letter to yourself that you can't open until a certain date/birthday
Those rare and valuable pieces of media with good representation of a minority/marginalised group.
To read through past conversations with people and cringe/laugh/cry.
All the different foods you've yet to try
To see the world become more accommodating to those who need it
To watch the seasons change
To celebrate the holidays
For those days where you do feel okay, perhaps even good
To eventually replace the stuff in your closet with things that represent who you are now
To read back on journals and diaries you made when you were younger
If you are not in a place where any of these help, that's more than okay as well. It will be here if and when you ever need it. Being suicidal can be extremely lonely and scary and we all deal with it in different ways.
If you have your own reason and you feel comfortable sharing it with me, let me know via asks or DM and it will be added as soon as I can 💞
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cr1mson5returns · 9 months
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Although I enjoy a good "Jack Drake is a physically and mentally abusive asshole and deeply homophobic" fic as much as the next ex-Catholic lesbian, I have to admit that I have a way softer spot in my heart for "clueless blundering ass who makes everything worse" Jack Drake.
Maybe it's because my own parents were deeply homophobic in a very different way to others. If you asked them, they'd tell you they have no problem with queer people. They don't care what anyone does in the privacy of their own home, really! Therefore they're not homophobic! But they just don't think you have to make it your whole personality. You don't have to shove it in everyone's faces. And all these new labels for things, what's up with that? Isn't it enough for people to just be gay or straight?
So because I do be projecting, I have a soft spot in my heart for Tim coming out to Jack as bisexual, and Jack just sort of...short-circuiting, for a hot minute. "Well, I'll always love you, son." And Tim thinks that this went pretty well, actually. But Jack later is maybe telling Tim that there are ground rules for him and his dates. Can't bring boys back to the house, strict curfew, has to let Jack know where he is and with whom at all times. Jack doesn't kick Tim out or anything, or call him names, but it's uncomfortable living there now in a way that it wasn't before. Jack has a weird vibe about him when Tim talks about a boyfriend or a male crush. Shuts down the conversation really quickly and won't entertain it any longer. Jack starts being critical of Tim in ways that he wouldn't if he didn't know about his son's sexuality; he asks why Tim feels the need to have a bi pride flag in his room, or why he has to make this his defining characteristic now. And Jack never actually says the word "bisexual." It's always "this." How they just need to leave "this" alone for a while, they need to not make every conversation about "this."
Because Tim is such a person to let a person's good characteristics speak miles more than their bad ones, if they're close enough to him. He has plans in place if Batman goes rogue, but not for his own protection, never for himself. Always for everyone else's benefit. He can live with what happens to him if he's wrong. So of course he'd never call his dad a homophobe, that's not - his dad didn't kick him out. Doesn't hit him or call him names or say mean things to him. It hurts his feelings sometimes, but he takes worse than that from street thugs every night. It's not like he can't handle his dad being a little weird about things.
Right?
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ystrike1 · 1 month
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How to Tame the Merciless Villain - By Peroche (8.5/10)
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A submissive, crazy, powerful magician slave plot done right? Is that even possible? They actually start as tentative friends and he falls for her first? AND the Duchess protagonist isn't an insufferable pervert or an idiot? This one is too good to be true.
I kept waiting for a disappointing plot twist, but it has not come yet.
Olivia woke up as the daughter of a Duke 4 years ago, and she's been searching for the main villain for 2. She's been visiting every slave auction, waiting for him to go up for sale. He's one of the most beautiful slaves on the market, so she cannot relax for a day or she will miss the chance to save him.
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The villain is named Kian, and he has a very tragic backstory. He was born with incredible latent magical power, but nobody cared. He was born a slave, so the noble class treated him like one. His pretty face didn't help. When his powers suddenly manifested (when an old master attempted to do S&M knife play) he felt wronged. Cheated out of the wonderful life he should have had. He was BORN talented, but all that mattered was his slave status.
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The story does a good job with showing his downfall. Originally, he was just a hard worker. A slave willing to work like a dog to survive. He did not have a violent bone in his body. The constant sexual abuse he experienced is what pushed him over the edge.
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He had many masters. Which means that, despite his beauty, the wealthy women who owned him always grew bored of him. They passed him around like he was a literal living sex toy.
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Worst of all....he had to perform well. This contributed to his breakdown more than anything. He was super submissive and generous to his masters in bed, and still he never got a crumb. Not even a good meal really. He got his own basement room, but it didn’t have a door. He sacrificed every shred of pride in his body, just to live...and then he found out he was special. So special that if he had been born anything but a slave he would have become famous and respected.
I'd snap too.
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The original Olivia was your average noble woman. She had fake friends. She was snotty but not abusive. Her family and her maids liked her, but her role was to marry the prince.
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The new version of Olivia breaks up with the Prince after she buys Kian. This sets up suspicion across the country. The Crown Prince himself has been abandoned for a beautiful slave. It's a scandal, but Olivia has a plan. She is currently in charge of her family, as her father is ill. She does not love the Prince, and she knows he's secretly a selfish coward.
She wants to pour all of her time and energy into sponsoring Kian. Which will slightly elevate him out of his status as a slave. She must ensure that Kian has decent control over his magic when it awakens in him. He's on the level of a natural disaster. Training him well will basically save the nation.
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Olivia is doing her best, but the people around her think she's gone nuts. Sponsoring some nobody slave? That she just met? It is a little fast, but remember. Olivia is on a time crunch. It took two years for her to find this man. She must calm him and tame him FAST. If he discovers his strength when he's still bitter at the world well...heads will roll.
Luckily, Olivia is so distracted by all of her responsibilities that it's impossible for Kian to deny her sincerity. He stops trying to undress for her pretty quick, because she genuinely seems uninterested.
Sure, she thinks he's pretty. BUT she's running the entire Ashford estate AND she just broke up with her powerful fiance. There's no real time to flirt. Instead Kian begins to admire Olivia.
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She also saves him from a jealous and sadistic servant who thinks they're lovers. That was a nice touch. It made her look even cooler.
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Olivia tried very hard, but the power of envy is amazing. One of Olivia's enemies sends an assassin. It's after a happy night. Kian has his sponsored status lined up. He's learning how to use magic. Olivia even attended a party with him. Their scandalous story has become inspiration for a famous artist, who painted Kian. People are interested in him, instead out outright abusive. Olivia's plan is unfolding perfectly. Kian will be a respected young magician before his true strength manifests.....
.....then the assassin comes before he's strong enough.
Olivia gets stabbed.
Kian starts screaming about how he wants to go home, with her. He carries her back. The earth splits. Blue fire swallows the assassin, and we see how much his admiration has grown. He doesn't just admire his hardworking master.
He's obsessed with her.
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roach-works · 14 days
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for all its (apparently many?) flaws, i really enjoyed the fallout show, and i'm ride or die for maximus, obviously. but one of the things i enjoyed about lucy's arc isn't that she wasn't necessarily proved RIGHT or WRONG about her own moral code, she didn't learn that either kindness is its own reward or that niceness is suicidal in a fight for survival.
what she learned, i am pretty sure, is that context matters. you can't actually help people if you don't know anything about them. you can't enact justice if you don't know what the case on trial is. you can't come in out of nowhere and make snap decisions and be anything more than one more complication in a situation that was fucked up long before you were born.
that's what we see over and over: she comes in out of nowhere, she makes an attempt to help based on her immediate assumption of what's going on, and then everything continues to be dangerous and complicated and fucked up. she doesn't let the stoners explain that some ghouls will genuinely try to eat you the minute they get the chance, and she pays for it. she jumps to the wrong conclusion in vault 4 because not everyone who looks like a monster IS a monster, and she pays for it. yeah a lot of the time cooper is abusing her for his own satisfaction, but when she's a free agent she's a loose canon and it's not because the show is punishing her for TRYING to do the right thing. it's because the show is punishing her for jumping to conclusions.
this show gets a lot of laughs from Fish Out Of Water situations, but i think that even though cooper explicitly says "you'll change up here and not for the better, you'll become corrupted and selfish just to survive" that's not the real message. what lucy learns is how important it is to hear people out, meet them where they're at, and get the full story.
that's why the final confrontation with her father is so important. she hears everyone out. she gets the full story. she listens to all of it. and then she acts with full knowledge of situation. that's what the wasteland taught her: not to be cruel, not to be selfish, but that taking the time to understand what's actually going on really matters.
this is a show that's incredibly concerned with truth and lies. everyone is lying to each other and themselves. scenes change over and over as they're recontextualized. love and hate and grief and hope are just motives in a million interconnected shell games, not redeeming justifications. maximus's many compounded falsehoods are approved of by his own superior, who finds a corrupt pawn more useful than an honorable one. cooper finds out his wife has her own private agenda and this betrayal keeps him going for centuries. lucy's entire society is artificial and from the moment they find out they're not safe and maybe never have been, all the vault dwellers are scrambling to deal with that.
ANYWAY. i just think it's neat. sci fi is a lens to analyze our present through a hypothetical future, and i think it's pretty significant for this current age we live in, where we're all grappling with misinformation, conspiracy theories, propaganda, and deepfakes, there's a huge anxiety over how hard it can be to find the truth out about anything. i think the show suggests that it's always worth the work to try.
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autistichalsin · 4 months
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Hey man, I really enjoyed following you for all of your content, but I noticed something recently that’s really upsetting.
I saw you talking about Pro-shipping; I don’t know if you quite understand what you’re supporting.
In disallowing “antis”, you’re inviting people who support pedophilia, incest, and all kinds of other things in those areas.
Is that seriously who you want to be associated with?
No hate, I guess. I just wanna know for my own safety so I can know whether or not I need to unfollow and the like.
All due respect, anon, I think it's you who doesn't understand the position you're supporting.
The anti position is that pixels deserve the same rights as living, breathing human beings. The anti position is that rape and abuse are not wrong because they are a violation of human rights, but because they're "icky". The anti position is that the rape of a real person is not any worse than writing a story about a fictional character being raped. The anti position is that it's acceptable to tell people to kill themselves over their tastes in fiction. The anti position is that survivors who enjoy dark fiction as a way to feel seen are the same as their abusers. The anti position is that sending reports to the FBI over stories on AO3, thus diverting resources from real children in need of rescuing from trafficking, is not only acceptable, but a moral obligation. The anti position is that fictional beings will always be more important and deserving of respect and kindness than real people.
If THAT is what you want to be associated with, then yes, perhaps you should unfollow, because I will never take the stance that a fictional character has any rights at all- let alone rights equal to a real person's.
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cannellee · 2 months
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TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆
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୨୧ alpha! taiju x alpha! kokonoi x alpha! inupi x omega! reader
my masterlist : ☆
tw : yandereish(?), some red flags, sex, breeding kink, slight oral (f!receiving)...
(I tried something that has been on my mind for a while now, I'm not exactly satisfied of what I wrote but I'll probably write more scenarios of them in the future to make up for it!)
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there's definitely a clear hierarchy inside your little pack. with, of course, taiju on top of it all. his supremacy actually wasn't decided by worth or anything, but by a primal sense of submission none of you could fight off.
kokonoi and inupi are fine with it, as they still get to be close to you. they're glad taiju has accepted them enough to allow them to approach you. in fact, if taiju was to deny them of your affection, they wouldn't really be able to do anything. he is just way too strong for them.
but they feel linked to him and are very loyal, so there wouldn't be any valid reason for taiju to just throw them out of your pack. it's even safe to say that taiju does appreciate their company.
but don't be mistaken, kokonoi and inupi aren't powerless and do have an influence and a role to play. taiju isn't a dictator, it's far from the reality to assume that the three of you are abused by his bad temper.
kokonoi has quite the temper himself and speaks up whenever he thinks something is not right. whenever taiju is being too rough with you for example, gripping your wrist with just too much strength. kokonoi will clearly not let it slide, telling him to be more careful around you.
on the other hand, inupi is more laidback. he cares so much about your wellbeing, but simply trusts kokonoi to protect you. what he does best is reassuring you after a particularly lively argument between your alphas. shielding you from the bloody scene before you, whenever taiju gets mad at someone.
it rotates though, with either kokonoi or inupi staying with you. but what doesn't change is taiju, who's always leading the assault on the poor soul who crossed their paths.
inupi analyses your reactions and emotions, he knows what triggers you, what makes you happy... he has the chance to spend more time with you, as taiju and kokonoi are the ones ensuring your safety. it wouldn't be the case if it was just the two of you, so he's thankful.
kokonoi and inupi aren't particularly aggressive, but it doesn't mean they'll stop taiju's blinded rage and jealousy. they'll even join him sometimes, if the fight is justified. but it's too much of a bother to try and get him to listen, so they just witness the carnage. the good thing is that it reinforces the fear others feel whenever they look at you, knowing who is looking out for you...
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kokonoi finds it funny how you manage to turn the big and scary taiju into a tamed alpha. that's when realises just how much taiju loves you. despite his rough appearance, he would never hurt you willingly.
there are times when his protective instincts become overbearing. he's fiercely loyal, and driven by a need to keep his precious omega safe. while his intentions are genuine, his actions can come across as controlling.
that's when kokonoi and inupi intervene. you might not see anything wrong with taiju's behaviour, thinking it's only right to let his instincts decide on what to do. but kokonoi isn't all pleased when his omega starts going outside less and less.
he wants to be able to do all sorts of stuff with you and confronts taiju for his lack of consideration. inupi softly scolds you for not saying anything and just playfully pinches your cheek when you answer that it's fine with you.
taiju doesn't want his omega to feel trapped, albeit your reassuring words, he's hesitant. so he'll listen to his friends, like he always do. he knows they want the best for you, that's why he isn't doubting their intentions.
when you're spending time together outside, taiju again starts to act all intimidating. for your own sake. "taiju, stop being so mean to everyone! I was only talking to my friend!", you scold him after catching him sending daggers to your friend. he didn't mean to make them run away, he was just looking out for you, making sure he wasn't planning anything funny.
kokonoi is quick to buy you a treat afterwards, teasing you for being so cute when you're mad. you don't stay annoyed for too long though, preferring to chat with inupi.
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you're the heart of the relationship. their lives literally turn around their omega.
kokonoi is calling you multiple times a day and delivers cute gifts to you. inupi likes to come to your house unannounced with sweets he knows you love. taiju actually prefers to spend the day napping with you, cuddling in the safety of your nest. he'd rather have you close to him than anywhere else, he wants to know where you are as it appeases him.
taiju surprisingly is a great cook and overall great at any domestic task. so he'll express his love through acts of service, by cooking your favourite meals, running errands for you and anything you might ask of him. he's the definition of provide and protect.
he's a great listener, acting as an attentive support. you can share your concerns with him, although he might lash out later on if your sadness was provoked by someone else.
inupi frequently reminds you of how much he loves you, verbally expressing the deep affection he has. he likes to be intimate with his omega, so he'd rather build your relationship around trust and loyalty. you're really grateful for how compassionate and gentle inupi is with you.
kokonoi feels the need to shower you with excessive affection to make sure you feel loved. you told him countless of times you didn't need all of that, but he's still sending you gifts and taking you to cute and romantic dates with the others, although they're mostly planned by him. inupi and taiju fully trust him for this matter.
kokonoi wants you to know they'll always be there with you. he wants you to rely on them, because they'll do anything to provide a stable life for you.
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as I said, taiju isn't a tyrant and while he seems a bit aggressive, his pack's harmony is what matters the most in his eyes, along with your safety.
kokonoi is assertive and it complements taiju's nurturing nature. inupi is the soft side you need, and your support whenever you disagree with a decision that was made, especially if it's about you.
kokonoi and taiju often agree about how they should treat you ; if going out at this party is a good idea, if you should stay at home and stop working because clearly they can provide for you...
inupi does see the good in their choices but doesn't like they way you're left unsatisfied and frustrated. your scent often takes a sour note and while kokonoi tries to reason you by calmly describing why you should listen to them, inupi doesn't like the smell of your pheromones. he negotiates for you and often comes out victorious because your pouting and sulking face is just too much for them to not give in.
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during your heats, there is also a definite order. they don't like sharing you during such a vulnerable time of yours.
taiju goes first, rough and aggressive. he wants to breed you, nothing else. you awake such a strong sense of duty in him, he doesn't even prep you, judging you're just wet enough for him to start pounding into you. he's strong and you're so tiny, he's splitting your body in two, with his big hands solidly holding your legs up, knees touching your chest.
taiju makes you cry tears of pleasure, absolutely wrecking you and turning you into a mess. by the time he's finished with you and kokonoi takes his place, you're all pretty and obedient, ready to submit to whatever your alphas will do and say.
kokonoi likes seeing you so meek. you're already crying for his cock the second he enters the room and if your aroused scent didn't already, you can be sure the sight of his cute omega begging for him is enough to send blood rushing to his length.
he wastes no time in indulging in your desires, practically losing himself as well in the moment. while not violent at all, he's still vigorous and thrusts into you just how you like it. he bites and claims you, licking your already bruised skin. your scent is completely washed away, the musky ones of taiju and kokonoi sticking to your skin instead.
he fucks you from behind, loving the way the flesh of your ass bounces with each thrust. there's something about this position which just feels so right. seeing his omega so docile is honestly so rewarding and it satisfies his instincts.
lastly, you'll end up in the ends of the lovely inupi. he'll take his sweet time with you, knowing he's the last. he will kiss you everywhere, licking the hickeys left by his two friends before him. he's so patient and so kind that you become calmer and less impatient as well. you know inupi is gonna take good care of you, so you savour each of his actions.
he'll start by pushing his tongue inside of your pulsating core, lapping at your juices and remains of cum. your scent here is so strong it's almost too much for him too continue without instantly burying his hard cock inside you. but he has an insane self control and hearing you moan so loudly at his touches makes his alpha purr with pride.
by the time you've come at least a couple of times on his tongue and fingers, he's finally giving you the real thing. your senses are even more alert and inupi loves your glossy eyes. he fucks you gently, carefully praising his oh so perfect omega.
at the end of your heat, you're exhausted and completely weak, although very satisfied. your alphas know exactly what you need and how you need it and they always give it to you without any delay.
they take care of your trembling form, carrying you to the bathtub and tenderly massaging your poor muscles.
they never forget to tell you how much they love you and how grateful they are to have you in their lives. even taiju has his open hearted moments, where he confesses just how much of a blessing you represent.
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babsaros · 28 days
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hey. when cis society is oppressing a trans man, what he is experiencing is. In Fact. misogyny. i'm sorry i know none of us like to be reminded of our agab, and it hurts whenever people perceive you as the wrong gender. but a cis person hate-criming, assaulting, verbally abusing, etc, a trans man is not doing "transandrophobia" because they do not perceive him as a man.
they perceive him as a woman failing at her gender, as a woman who has been seduced and lied to and manipulated because women are so easily led astray, just like it says in the bible. they perceive him as a woman who has been mutilated. they perceive him as a dyke that needs to be fixed. if they are hate-criming him because they *do* perceive him as a man, because he passes well enough they aren't thinking he could be trans, then they're doing so out of homophobia, perceiving him as a gay man, a pervert, a sissy, a danger to children. OR, they are being transphobic but specifically because they think he might be transfeminine instead. when cis society oppresses a trans woman, they are able to do it on multiple levels at once. She's a woman failing at her gender, a dyke that needs to be fixed. Or she's an evil and grotesque crossdressing pervert, a rude caricature, a danger to polite society. she will never be doing enough to escape oppression entirely, no matter if she gets every surgery she can and wears makeup every day and passes perfectly, because she lives under a patriarchy, and she's a woman, so she lives in a panopticon, and HAVING to get surgery and wear make-up to be respected IS oppression, especially if the alternative is being hate-crimed.
trans women (and trans men who pass) are not experiencing "transandrophobia" when a 'queer women and nbs" event turns them away at the door for being too masculine. they are. IN FACT!! experiencing the byproducts of misogyny in a patriarchy!!! where the terfs and coward cis women running those events and occupying those spaces have been taught (sometimes through experience, sometimes by men, sometimes by women) throughout life that men = stronger and more dangerous than women ALWAYS. That they need to protect themselves at all times and always be vigilant. That men and women can't be friends without sexual tension (and so as queer women the mere existence of what they perceive as a "man" is a threat). That women need a separate sports league because they can't possibly compete with someone who has even a little bit "extra" (an unquantifiable amount actually because there isn't a standard range) testosterone. That women should cook and men should fix cars. i promise you, i promise i promise i promise. it's misogyny. like!!! you don't say cis gay men experiences "androphobia", bc that's not a thing!! you sound like fucking mens rights activists guys please! you don't say a black man experiences "misandrynoir"!! because living in a patriarchy fundamentally means men do not experience oppression based on their gender. its not happening. shut the fuck up. stop walking us back to 2014 can we please take a step forward and stop bitching about this. there are genuine issues in the world and i'm frankly sick of people who should be smarter than that needing to be gently hand-held through this fucking explanation for the millionth time and still stomping their feet.
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yandere-wishes · 9 months
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He's Just Ken
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Summary: You're just Barbie, perfect on the outside, dead on the inside. He's just Ken, neither perfect on the outside nor on the inside. 
Author's note: I condone neither patriarchy nor matriarchy. But I do love exploring different forms of mental exhaustion and extreme emotional dependency.
Warnings: Mental abuse, dark mental headspace, mentions of suicide and self-harm (only if you read between the lines), yandere behavior, yandere Ken, 
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Not every Barbie has a Ken. Not one for herself anyway. Every Barbie knows a Ken, but that Ken most likely belongs to her friend, or her neighbor, or one of the other Barbies. Not every Barbie has a Ken, but every Barbie knows a Ken. You know one too, one with sandy hair and ocean eyes. And a look that longs for something more. You know a Ken who keeps his heart from breaking by crossing his fingers and praying to the Malibu sun. You know a Ken who's only happy if a certain Barbie looks his way. Or rather you knew. This was before the world fell apart. This was before he destroyed it. 
Ken returned without Barbie and the universe began to crack. It's fine you thought. It's fine you hoped. Ken -That Ken, the one who waited on the beach for hours on end until his Barbie walked by- returned from the real world preaching sermons on how the Kens were better, superior, the rightful rulers of Barbieland. How they didn't need the Barbies, how they no longer needed to settle for being treated as anything less than perfect. How they needn't be number two any longer. Ken returned without Barbie and the universe wept. 
You've always known the real world was a messed up place. It had become evident when the thoughts started to creep in. That was years ago-albeit you'll admit you have no idea if Barbie years and human years aligned- years since you started to feel like a constant failure. Years since that harrowing voice began screeching endless dreadful thoughts into your cranium. Notions that festered your mind and heart, tiny maggots that chewed away at your soul. There was always something wrong and it was somehow always your fault. Then came the pain. Horizontal pangs that shot across your arm. Always in the same spot, always in a cluster of three. Barbies don't feel pain as intensely as humans, at least they're not supposed to. 
 You worried for your human back then. You truly did. But you were always too scared to leave Barbieland. Never brave enough to go find her. She's fine you hope...you doubt it though. 
You also refused to go see Weird Barbie. Too scared of being labeled as anything less than perfect. So long as these thoughts merely remained inside you and no outward defects began to show, you would be fine. You could just pretend like everything was as perfect as it always had been. 
Ken came back from the real world unscratched. Yet his words hit a chord within every other Ken. They began to take over. The Barbies were reduced to accessories. Pretty little things that clung to their lovers. Dressed in short skirts and maid outfits. Turned into what they weren't. 
Ken destroyed what once was perfect. Yet all you could think as you watch the pillars of your homeland cripple and your friends descend into madness. Was how utterly beautiful he was.
The world turned upside down. 
Barbieland fell.
Kendome rose. 
And yet as everything the Barbies had worked all so hard to build came crumbling down. As your friends and neighbors began to lose themselves and submit to a tyrannical patriarchy. You found yourself utterly unaltered. Your world had been destroyed long ago. This was just another calamity that you would fake your way through. It would be easy, a lifetime of practice finally paying off. Stay quiet, stay in the shadows, no one would notice.
No one was supposed to notice...
Ken found you on the beach one night. A day or two after the hostile Ken takeover. He walked up behind you out of breath as if he'd been running. 
The bonfire crackles, a warning, and a love song. Until now you'd only ever existed in his sideview. An afterthought as he impaled his heart and called it love. You had burned yourself in his rays and called it love. You're convinced neither of you knows what love truly is. The moon's rays dance as you two sit side by side. In the distance, you see Blue Mermaid Barbie and Mermaid Ken share a tender kiss. An unparalleled sight. 
Ken sits next to you. Eyes following your every move. Scanning every dip and curve of your plastic corpse. He's just Ken you remind yourself with an uneasy breath. He's just Ken, nothing to fear. Although you're not entirely sure if those old ideologies shine through. He's Ken but somehow he's become unstable at worst, flammable at best. Something radioactive ticks inside of him waiting to detonate. Waiting to make the world feel a trace of his pain. 
Ken's fingers intertwine with yours as waves of helplessness crash across your body. You were created to be ethereal yet all you see is perfection molded in the shape of Ken's face. He leans in, carelessly placing his chin in the subspace of your neck as he whispers. "I see the way you look at me" his warm breath tickles the shell of your ear. You flinch, in time with the breaking of the waves. "I know you want me" Reality blurs when Ken touches you. He pulls you between his legs as his lips kiss the back of your neck. His fingers run up and down your arm as if he's trying to memorize your shape, your soul, you. It's romantic you think but all you feel is puka shell shards stabbing your flesh. You know he's dreamed of this intimacy with the other Barbie. 
you wonder if in his eyes you are merely a ghost. One he resurrected with desperate love and a broken heart. You wonder if he sees her, feels her, wants her. Yet he'll settle for you. The next best thing. The other stereotypical Barbie. Somewhere along the line, your own voice sounds, foreign to you. He's talking, his voice is smooth like silk. Fragile like window glass after a bombing. He asks you something, something you've dreamed of for all so long. He asks you to be his bride wife. You agree despite how degrading it sounds. 
What once was a pink haven of fun and joy has now been turned into a mess of horses and black sunglasses. Barbie's dreamhouse is now Ken's Mojo Dojo Casa House. You feel like an intruder, like a traitor. You feel loved, wanted, needed. Someone once told you that truths can co-exist. It's all you can think to save yourself from going mad. 
There's an unspoken easiness that comes with being with Ken. The way he's always around. His hands never leave you, tracing stars on your arms, running through your hair. He wants his presence to be felt. 
"I like this" you confess one night as you rest your head on his arm. "I've always felt...less than perfect. Like I couldn't be good at anything like the other Barbies." Ken laughs and it feels like the stars have cladded you in their warmth. He pinches your nose with a soft smile. "I know the feeling," he mutters and you feel your heart crack. "But you don't have to worry about that. I'm here and so long as you're with me. We're both going to be perfect." You snuggle into his chest as you close your eyes. "Ken and Barbie" you sing, a mantra, a prayer. One for a better future. One for a happy life. 
You have a dream house. Had one at least. You sometimes wonder which Ken lives there now. You wonder if his Barbie feels your presence radiating off the walls and the floor and the heart-shaped night lamp you once treasured. You certainly feel Stereotypical Barbie's presence echoing from every corner. You see her ghost whenever Ken pulls you onto his lap to watch a horse flick. Infuriated and distressed. You wonder if she's angry because you didn't join the rebellion. You wonder if she's angry because she thinks you took Ken away. You see her ghost again, feel her between the pause of two breaths. She glitches and fades as you hide your face in Ken's mink coat. 
"I don't like being apart from you" Ken claims as he lays your body on top of his. One hand dangling off the couch the other curling your loose locks. To Ken a touch away feels like being galaxies apart. You kiss his chin and his cheek and his nose and finally his lips. It feels like a dream. One you refuse to wake up from. 
Ken is gold.
Unmetable and solid.A kaleidoscope of hope
He has so much potential rotting inside of him.
Ken is gold.
Beautiful and everlasting.
His value lies in how pretty he is. How good of an accessory he's willing to be. 
You wonder if he's sick of being gold. 
You felt Barbie's ghost again today. This time looming and aggravated. She wants her presence acknowledged. She has something she needs to say. Ken was out, one of the rare times you two spend apart. Something about a beach off and rock paper scissors. 
You wonder if a ghost haunting is their way of showing love. 
You wonder if the Kens starting a rebellion is their way of showing love. 
Barbie talks for ten minutes straight. You cling to every word, you forgot how much you missed the Other Barbie's voice. It's in the final beat of her sentence that you notice she's not a ghost. Not this time. This is Barbie, the girl who had been your friend since the day you left your box. "Help me" she pleads as she grabs your shoulders. "We need to fix this", you turn your head and smile a broken smile. "I can't" you confess. 
It's easy to undo brainwashing. Even easier to reinstate it. What Stereotypical Barbie and her friends can undo. You can simply redo. Even Barbies prefer ease, a few simple half-truths sung into the right ear at the right time. And the once normalized Barbies are running back to their Kens. You turn, in the rays of the golden sun, you see Barbie. Her eyes hold glimmers of unshed tears. She wears her betrayal on her pink sleeve. "Why" she whispers as her fingers reach out to hover over your heart before she retracts them. You think you may have burned her. You think she's afraid of being plagued by your depravity.
You feel like a traitor, like a monster. A creature made of pink lipgloss and shattered vows. should Kendom fall, you know your delicate dream life will fall with it. You stare into her eyes. And the words that leave your mouth feel so rehearsed, yet you swear it's the first time you've uttered them. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you both when you went through hell. I'm sorry I wasn't there when the world collapsed and you ran from the debris. I'm sorry I can't help you pick up the pieces and rebuild what once was yours.., ours. I'm sorry I'm so selfish". 
Immortal hearts are cursed with the loneliest beats. Maybe that's why the other Barbies never bothered to ponder their endless existence. Maybe that's why the Kens always clung to false promises of love. Maybe saying I love you is the same as saying I'm letting you go. Stereotypical Barbie has already reached this conclusion, you know this. For a fraction of a juncture, she looks into your eyes. Trying to reason and plea and hope all in the same breath. When you say nothing more her eyes shine with grief as she turns on her heels and runs for the hilled house. You reach out to her, yet only grasp the warm Malibu breeze. 
What do you call a person such as yourself? 
Coward...
That sounds about right. 
Ken kisses your neck, and it feels like lava sprinkling along your skin. You feel like a defeated soldier drowning in a sea of guilt. Survivor's guilt a voice echo inside your head familiar yet all so distant. A ghost from a past life or a current one unseeable to you. "I have it too" the voice replies. You wonder if it's the voice of an angel or a mortal girl. You don't tell him about the Barbie resistance or how easily they can reverse the brainwashing. You work best alone anyway. 
You hear the word death replay in the background as Ken bites a sensitive spot. A faint noise, a haunting whisper. You hear the word death and it sounds more familiar than the name Barbie that has rolled off your tongue every day since birth. 
Ken harbors you inside the once was dreamhouse like a forbidden secret. Sometimes the skirts feel too short. Sometimes the world feels too heavy. You always feel the eyes of the other Kens on you. You think Ken planned it that way to show the Ken world who you belong to. Just last week he took you to the beach. Both of you wearing matching pastel blues and silver earrings. Other Ken was there also adorned in pastel blue and silver earrings. You see the twitch in your Ken's jaw, the icy glare when Other Ken waves to you. "Let's go," he says, commandes really. He throws you over his shoulder and you're heading back the way you came. "I really wanted to see Mermaid Barbie..." You pout. "No no, you wanted to see a movie remember?" Ken corrects you, to be honest, he does that often. You're starting to doubt you even know your own wants anymore. 
Today Ken has you dressed in a pink and white dress. You remember Setrotypical Barbie use to love this dress. You run around the kitchen cooking a pretend dinner. You really want to go shipping, to pick out something you'd like. A rose pink Lolita skirt and a matching button-up. You really want to die. Although that's normal you always want to go shopping. You always want to die. You wonder if Ken will ever let you pick out your own dresses. You leave his plate in front of him as you loop your arms around his neck. You rest your chin on his head as he pulls you closer. Not picking your own clothes is a small price to pay for the intimacy you've craved for far too long. 
"Never has there ever been a girl as pretty" Ken whispers as he relishes in your presence. 
"Do you have any idea what you are?" He rasps, his lips hovering over yours. You're both sitting on the bed, watching the sun die for the day. 
Ken is a monster. At least that's what you're supposed to think. You have something in your mind something that squirmes around in what can only be described as reason. To call it wits and a conscious would be an overstatement. Lucide is a better word. Weak and brittle yet somehow still standing. Deep inside, your heart refuses to call Ken anything other than hero, savior, salvation. 
"I'm yours" it's the first truth that's left your mouth in a long long time. You cup his cheeks and kiss him with all the doom and gratitude that lies within you. And Wow Ken tastes like mint ice cream and shooting stars. Like dead dreams that lay on the tip of your tongue. He's the beach at night and the evermore gardens during the day. He's everything good and confusing and painful and sweet. Ken nibbles your ear, playfully, and coos sweet words into your soul. Spinning tales of how you'll be together forever. You soak in his presence, rolling his name around in your head. You keep your head filled with him before your own thoughts give you a heart attack. 
You're Barbie but now you are so much more than that. You're his Barbie. Ken's Barbie. Damaged yet simultaneously perfect. And he's perfect too, mesmerizing when the sun's rouge rays kiss his pretty face, bathing him in golden ichor.
You wonder if perfection and imperfection have always been in love. 
 Sometimes in the dead of night, you think of the little girl playing with you. Albit she isn't a little girl anymore, is she? Kids grow up. clawing and biting through the painful transformation. Sometimes it leaves their minds fragmented. Sometimes it leaves them less than whole. 
Judging by how long it's been, your little girl is grown up by now. You close your eyes and give Ken a final kiss before sleep overtakes you. You hope she's okay, even though you know that can never be true. Being "okay" doesn't seem to be a real thing in this universe. 
Because girls are broken and the universe knows this 
Because boys are broken and the universe knows this 
Because the universe does nothing. Just sits there and watches as life bends and breaks itself over and over again
Barbieland is broken too, imperfect and destroyed.
And so are the two of you. 
Yet in the end, it doesn't matter. 
For as broken as the world is the most important of things has been resolved. 
Ken has his Barbie.
And Barbie has her Ken. 
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hi, saw that your Sdv requests are open. I currently have my dogs sitting on my lap and had a thought. How would the sdv bachelors respond/react if the farmer said they didn't want kids and would rather adopt some dogs (or cats or any type of animal if I'm being serious) instead of having children.
Love your writing. Hope you have an amazing week.
Hey hey 👋 Thank you for your kind words and for the ask, dear anon! I'm glad you like my writing and I hope you like this hc too. Have a nice week as well 🫰💕
SDV bachelors react to the Farmer when they said they wanted to adopt a dog/cat/other pet instead of having a children:
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Shane doesn't see any problem with this at all because he had previously sworn to himself that he wouldn't have children. Especially since Shane has already tried a few years as a father figure and realised it's... hard. Don't get him wrong, Shane loves his niece, but with his depression and alcohol abuse previously, he knew he wasn't the best godfather for Jas. But he has plenty of experience with caring for chickens, so Shane brightened with joy when his spouse suggested having more chickens instead of kids. Charlie would have more friends!
Harvey had always dreamed of a happy family, but the local doctor had never specifically thought about having children. He came to the conclusion that he would be happy with Farmer in any scenario. And recently, a friend of Harvey's from Zuzu City was looking for owners for three orphaned stray kittens... So after a conversation with his spouse and mutual agreement, Harvey now have the three furballs who greet him with chorus of meowing, climb up his pyjama, demanding food, and make Harvey and Farmer smile every day.
Sebastian was all for it. He didn't want to have kids either, and didn't have any particular reason. He was afraid that Farmer would take this rather negatively. But since they are both on the same page, how about expand their terrarium and get more cute frogs? Sebastian still remembers that the Farmer named the rescued frog "their son," so "they're already parents to green babies." Sebby will be happy about the addition to their frog family (and won't forget to lightly tease his beloved spouse again).
Sam holds up the Farmer's dog. "But we already have a baby!" And the pooch barked back, wagging his tail happily. Well, they're glad that Sam reacted to their words very calmly. But later the guitarist himself admits that he doesn't see himself as a parent. Especially since they are both so young, and there's still a lot to do and explore. But he also would like to have another puppy. Sam even called Marnie to ask about adopting a puppy. Or maybe two? How about three? All in all, Sam, like Farmer, would be quite happy without children.
Elliott had long since chosen the right words and the right place, for, as it turned out, he himself had wanted to raise the matter with Farmer. The writer decided that since they were both almost entirely devoted to their work and hobbies, they would not be able to pay proper attention to the child, and it would be unfair to the baby. What was the writer's surprise when Farmer told him that they also wanted to discuss the possibility of being childfree. And also the idea of having another cat. Elliott was fine with it, believing that their first cat would like a new friend.
Alex was a little discouraged by Farmer's question, as he was thinking of just discussing with his spouse about children/adoption. Not that he wants kids right away without prior preparation, of course not. But after listening to Farmer's opinion, Alex couldn't disagree with their reasoning. Perhaps he just wanted the happy family life he didn't have as a child. But he was already happy with Farmer. And he'd be even more happy if Farmer agreed to have a couple puppies. Dusty would definitely enjoy the new company!
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bonny-kookoo · 9 months
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Jungkook
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 [Part 1]
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How come someone like him seems to be the only one who care about someone like you, when you both couldn't be anymore different?
Tags/Warnings: Non-Idol Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, former criminal!Jungkook, mentions of past neglect/abuse, reader has some pretty bad psychological problems (OCD, Anxiety, Selective mutism, hints at an eating disorder), hypersomnia, old to recovery, hurt and lots of comfort, angst, Jungkook has some problems with aggression and swears a lot, more TBA in future chapters
Length: ~2k words
There is no taglist for this fic.
A/N: You can have early access to this and other selected fics on my Patreon!
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Jungkook has always been a bit of a troublemaker.
The world isn't too kind to soft hearts, and growing up, he quickly got a taste of what reality is like past his, back then, rosy tinted glasses. Having to grow up fast, no one cares much if you're exhausted by the speed of time at any point. You're supposed to earn good money, work well and a lot, be something at a young age other than a simple kid. There's no time for childhood nowadays, and he hates it, feels as if it's all a sick joke.
Kids want to be grown up's, while he as an adult just wants to be a kid again.
But even so, he also knows that the way of making room for his aggression by being violent, vandalizing and committing other petty crimes isn't right either. He's not stupid- he's just at a breaking point. Nothing makes him happy anymore, and it's tiring. Other people are happy, so why can't he be?
The social work at the hybrid care center had been a last resort from the court to get him to change- and he knows that he really got away with a slap on the wrist for the very last time- considering the fact that he broke someone's bones in an act of personal revenge, he's aware that someone else might've not gotten such a gentle verdict.
He's glad, no question- but now he's just more lost than ever.
Does he even want to be a part of a society that's clearly fucked up? After all, just one look at you reminds him why he's even gotten so angry in the first place. You're a part of a new sub-species of humans, something you couldn't control and neither ever asked for. It's a fact that you can't change and yet everyone treats you and other hybrids like lesser beings. People advocate online for hybrids rights just to then indulge in shopping sprees, buying clothes and makeup cheaply produced by or tested on exactly those hybrids they're saying they want to save. Humanity already had problems seeing members of their own species as humans. It's hilarious to him that they created such a thing such as hybrids thinking it could go well.
But humans have always been like this.
"You've got a stalker." Hana, the social worker snickers a little, making Jungkook sigh in annoyance. Not at you, but at her- however, she's not wrong.
He is being stalked.
And while anybody else would be freaking out about it, he's not- he's more or less just confused, because all the workers seem to be just as caught off guard as he himself is. Didn't they say you've been here for four years already? Surely he's not the only one who'd tried to befriend you, right?
Apparently he is, because your behavior seems to be new to everyone, even experienced staff and other permanent hybrids in the facility raising their eyebrows at your actions.
Now, you're not stalking him in a creepy way, let's get that put aside here first and foremost. You never get close to him at all actually. But you seem to expect him to eat his lunch with you at this point, and you're always somewhere in the background wherever he works. It's like long-distance-clinginess in a way, as weird as it sounds. Following his every move, while trying to stay undetected.
It made him dig up a bit more about you.
He kind of wishes he didn't.
Because the images he'd seen made him genuinely nauseous, ruining his appetite for the rest of the day, the sight of your 'cage' in your old home and your physical condition when you were found enough to stay in the back of his head for days. And it makes your tiny little efforts to cling onto him even more heartbreaking, in a way, because he isn't even particularly kind or anything. He's just acting normal.
And maybe that's what you need.
"Hey." he kicks your socked foot with his boot, not looking at you directly because he knows that makes you nervous. Eye contact seems to scare the living shit out of you, and he can't help but feel like he doesn't even want to know why exactly that is. "You've been rotting inside the entire week." he says, and you shrug. He's noticed that too. While you don't talk, it's not like you don't communicate like he's been told. In fact, you're quite the chatterbox if any of the workers would make any effort to interpret even just the basics of body language, but he just assumes they're all too busy with the other hybrids.
He can't even be mad at them. The care center is horribly understaffed.
"No, none of that." he makes a disagreeing sound in his throat. "Go get your shoes or something. You can stalk me outside, get some fucking sunlight and fresh air." he mumbles, and thoroughly expects you to just stay seated with no reaction. But you slowly get up and dig out your shoes from a very corner. They're dusty, he notices. How long has it been since someone took you outside?
Fuck, he can feel himself getting angry again.
It's unfair how you're just left to rot away in this place, even if it's better than living homeless on the streets as a stray. It's not life you're living here. You're just existing, waiting for the end to come. He makes a mental note to maybe buy you new shoes. Cheap ones, so you don't feel bad. But these gray and torn sneakers won't do.
Outside, he helps staff with heavy lifting and other work that requires muscle- something he enjoys. Taking off his sweater due to the heat, he's quick to notice you in the shade of the trees, sitting on a stone away from the other hybrids. "It's been a long time since she's been outside on her own accord." hana says in an almost melancholic way. "I wish we had more time for her. But there's always gonna be the one's that get left behind."
Jungkook doesnt answer. All he wants to do is swear anyways.
Out of the corner of his eyes he can see how you're slowly taking interest in the things around you; cars driving past the yard gates, people walking, bustling city just a few meters away from you. Your ears twist and turn to catch all the sounds, but you don't seem anxious. He wonders what you're thinking. "I'll get your food, don't worry. You can take a break outside with her, it's a somewhat special occasion after all." Hana smiles, before walking inside with the other hybrids, leaving Jungkook and you almost alone apart from some staff who continue to clean the yard through their breaks.
"You like car rides?" Jungkook wonders, sitting down on the blanket someone had laid out for you a little earlier. He wipes his slightly dirty hands on his pants without much care, before looking around. "I fall asleep if I'm not the one driving." he shrugs, earning a poke from you finger to gain his attention. You motion to him, then to a car. He chuckles a little. "Yeah I've got a car. And a license too, don't worry. I do follow the law sometimes." He jokes, and while there's no obvious reaction, he does spot the corners of your lips twitch.
It's a start.
You still only eat your bland hybrid pellets, not having swayed from that at all, though he did notice how you seem interested in certain snacks he brings for himself sometimes. "Hm?" he holds a small piece of cheese towards you, and for the first time, you seem to think about it.
Will he be mad if you eat it? Will staff be mad if they realize you've taken it? What if other hybrids notice?
Jungkook clicks his tongue, putting the little piece he'd broken off on top of your bowl of dry pellets, before continuing to eat himself, giving you some room to breathe by not focusing touch on what you might do.
And suddenly, the next moment his eyes find your bowl, the piece of cheese is gone. But what he also notices is your shoulders shaking a little.
"Fuck, are you crying?" he panics a little, and yes, there's small tears running down your cheeks. He takes the fabric of his own shirt he's wearing to clumsily wipe them off, earning a sound he realizes is a giggle of all things out of you. "Oh fuck you, I thought I did something wrong!" he laughs a bit relieved now, watching the way your lips curl into a smile.
You don't look at him, and that's fine- he's glad he's already made such huge progress with you.
"Come on now, ditch that shit and have some of mine today. Except if you're gonna have a mental breakdown over it or something, they're gonna behead me if they notice you're crying 'cause of me and I really need this job." he jokes, making you shake your head. You don't eat immediately, but rather take what he offers- the situation ending in Jungkook basically feeding you scraps of his lunch. Not too much at once as to not upset your stomach or anything- but it's a start.
It makes him think.
He can't adopt you since he's got a criminal record, so that's off the table. He can't even foster you because he doesn't have any training in hybrid care. But maybe, just maybe, he's got a little big trick up his sleeve- a favor from a friend that owes him big time. He knows it's yet again not quite legal what he's thinking of, but there's many people who own hybrids 'around the corner'- someone else written on paper than who there actually living with. It's not illegal- but also not quite the way it was intended.
However, all he knows is that he needs to get you out of here. So when he goes back home that day, he cleans out his apartment in a way he's not done in years. He needs to change himself to maybe have a chance in court. Prove that he's changed. Prove that with you at his side, he won't ever step out of legal boundaries again.
And suddenly, while he's busy boiling a kettle of water, an idea sparks in his head.
Yes, he thinks to himself. That might just work.
But just as he turns off the stove and grabs his keys for his car to drive over to his friend's apartment to talk to him about his plans, he realizes he's missing something.
Where's his sweater?
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