#Me: ‘Actually. It’s very useful and a very helpful housing program.’

[canichangemyblogname]

Do y’all know anyone who doesn’t actually know how to have a conversation, all they know is how to interrupt or derail a conversation? Like they keep talking over you to tell you their opinion on something (often unrelated), even though the conversation doesn’t call for an opinion. There was no, “What do y’all think,” but they still gotta interrupt, speak very loudly over you and tell you some very wrong opinion. Or you’ll be talking and then they just start up a different topic. And when you call them out on that the response is, “I’m not interested in that.”

[nientedal]

What progress at home has biden enacted? What policies of his show that he is making progress that prove he is actually different than trump?

I like to pretend I have faith in humanity, so I'll answer as if you're asking this in good faith.

Biden's DEA has lifted restrictions on telehealth prescriptions to make appointments and assistance more accessible.

He put a funding package into place to help unhoused people get access to mental and physical healthcare, as well as short-term and long-term housing.

He has attempted and is still attempting to get student debt relief through - this was blocked by Republican judges appointed by Trump, but he's still working on it.

Infrastructure repair - his administration has budgeted funds to actually fix some severely-damaged and frequently-traveled bridges.

Trying to expand access to healthcare to include undocumented immigrants who came to the USA as children (Dreamers) under the Affordable Care Act. Support for Navigator programs and outreach has also been increased.

He has vetoed Republican-led bills that were attempting to overturn environmental protections - one that would have forbidden investment fund managers to consider climate change in their portfolios (I have two degrees in accounting and this is actually huge), and another that would have overturned restrictions on agricultural runoff into our waterways.

He and his administration worked for ages to get rail workers paid sick days.

This is just some of what he's been doing. Meanwhile, Trump and other Republicans want to criminalize the lives of LGBT people like you and me. They want to eliminate no-fault divorce and force births that will kill parents or devastate them financially. They have stated flat out that they want to install a military dictatorship in the USA. They attempted to put that in motion on January 6th, 2021. They failed once. They will do better next time.

One party wants to house the homeless and expand social safety nets, while the other one wants to criminalize homelessness. One of them wants a future in which I might be able to vote to change how much of a war machine my country is, while the other one wants to eliminate my ability to vote entirely. Those are not the same. Those literally are opposites.

At the end of the day, all you and I can do is choose to do the least amount of harm possible. You and I cannot choose to do no harm. This is the USA, we sell war, you and I cannot choose to do no harm. I wish we could, my god do I wish we could, but that is not an option. So we grieve for the harm we couldn't eliminate and work to minimize the harm that is done. Despite all the crap they support, Democrats are the minimum amount of harm right now. Acting like they aren't is exactly what brought us to an election where our options are a future where we are either wading in blood or drowning in it.

Not voting for Biden will not help Palestine. Not voting for Biden will guarantee a Republican president who will make the situation in Palestine WORSE. AND it'll hurt a lot of other places as well, both at home and abroad, because Republicans are about business and the USA is in the business of war! And I would very much like that to change someday! I would very much like to someday be able to choose to do no harm! And I know what I have to do to try for that future, so what are YOU going to do? There is no standing off to the side in this. If you aren't helping pull, you're the dead weight we're pulling. Are you going to dig your feet into the mud and blood and drown us there? Or are you going to get the fuck off your ass, grit your teeth, and help us pull free?

[tossawary]

At the end of "Fullmetal Alchemist", Ed Elric quits the military, has given up his ability to "play god", and is (as he has been since he burned his fucking house down as a tweenager) homeless, disabled, and crashing at the Rockbell place to help his very sick brother recover.

And it's easy and funny to imagine Edward Elric essentially becoming the house husband of successful and innovative automail mechanic Winry Rockbell (and later a stay-at-home dad). Small family businesses are pretty much always a mess of needing an extra hand just to answer phones and the mail, to schedule appointments, to deliver and pick up parts, to organize stock, to "just hold this for a second for me", and so on. Pinako is not getting any younger and could use someone to cook dinner and fix the roof while she rests her back!!! Winry is busy!!!

There is also always a lot to do in a rural community, so I'm sure that Ed would find another hobby in the absence of alchemy and could turn it into a gig if necessary, if he really doesn't like automail. He has a lot of skills that he could potentially turn towards an income. I've also generally assumed that Ed made a pretty decent amount of money as a State Alchemist and still has some generous savings on that front.

But I was also thinking that it would be kind of funny if being a State Alchemist came with incredible retirement benefits. Like, the military wants to lure people in with wealth and power and resources - and then make alchemists desperate enough to keep these things that they become walking weapons of war, commit horrible crimes against humanity in the name of "research", and/or resort to human transmutation and become viable sacrifices. Ed never had to worry about getting kicked out (and presumably losing his benefits) because he was a perfect human sacrifice from the get-go (although he didn't know this). I'm guessing a lot of State Alchemists were never actually able to retire between dying in wars, failing out of the program (the brass finding excuses to save money! Bosses are always cheap!), getting arrested for speaking out or actually getting caught publicly doing bad shit, and being murdered for their crimes against humanity.

But, in theory, maybe the State Alchemist retirement benefits were absolutely incredible if you could somehow survive long enough or get permission for an early, "honorable" retirement, because King Bradley (who let's say set up this financial bait) somewhat reasonably assumed that Father would completely destroy the country before he'd ever have to pay out a pension. Which means that Ed could be out of the military for years and somehow still costing Roy Mustang a lot of money.

[is-the-thing-actually-jewish]

is Jewish Voice for Peace actually Jewish? I've heard a couple different things about that but no sources

@gryphistheantlerqueen also asked:

Whooo boy. So this has been sitting in the inbox for a few months, I wrote up a draft, and then it just sat... until this past week, when some new JVP BS hit the fan and gave me the kick to finish it.

Sooooo...

Verdict: Not Actually Jewish

(updated verdict after finding out about the “self-managed conversion” and “teacup mikvah”) Jewish, technically, and that "technically" is doing a lot of heavy lifting, and is actively debatable without access to a detailed breakdown of JVP’s actual membership rolls. 

In general summation, JVP is a far-left radical antizionist group that is headed by a few visibly antizionist Jews and whose membership rolls are either a strong minority or outright majority of non-Jews, based on variable statistics that they've released. Although they claim that the “majority of their members and staff are Jewish”, this seems to be both statistically unlikely and actively suspicious due to their noted tendency to instruct even non-Jewish members to speak #AsAJew on social media, and their instructions to do “self-managed conversions”.  However, due to their title, they are very popular with people who want a Jewish Stamp Of Approval for demonizing Israelis and Zionist Jews as a result. In effect, they are Jewish in the same way that people like Candace Owens and Hershel Walker are Black—as self-tokenizing minorities who throw the rest of their ethnic group under the bus in exchange for power and political access.

And despite the claims that they are “inspired by Jewish values and traditions” (as put on their website) and “oppose anti-Jewish hatred,” JVP routinely engages in antisemitic rhetoric, up to and including blood libel and antisemitic conspiracy theories, and acts as a shield against non-Jews who also engage in antisemitic rhetoric so long as the non-Jews in question remember to shout "For Palestine!" first. This is not an exaggeration. 

The primary example of their in-house antisemitic rhetoric is their "Deadly Exchange" program, where they explicitly and conspiratorially blame Israel as being responsible for American police brutality and militarization. However, for all of their fearmongering and blame-casting on the subject—as if American cops needed outside help in brutalizing minorities or gaining military-grade handmedowns from the Pentagon, both of which are explicit claims of the "Deadly Exchange" program—they have a hard time actually identifying specific deaths associated with the international training seminars they're holding up as responsible.

One of the the closest they've come to a specific allegation is claiming that "former St. Louis County police chief Timothy Fitch trained with the Israeli military three years before Michael Brown’s killing and the Ferguson uprising." (Note: this was in a video that appears to have since been made private.) But Darren Wilson worked for the Ferguson PD, not the St. Louis PD, and Fitch retired months before the killing. So he was in a completely different police department, and this is the closest JVP comes to pointing to specific deaths or acts of brutality that they blame on Israel. Everything else is literal fearmongering--up to and including the classic conspiratorial tropes of "secretive Jewish governmental influence".

JVP has also happily supported the words of white supremacists like Richard Spencer, taking his “You could say that I’m a white Zionist in the sense that I care about my people," statement at face value, using it as the basis for entire articles where they compared Zionism to White Supremacy as a deliberate misrepresentation of the ideology that is common on the extreme political Left (you can compare that treatment again with how Candace Owens treats the word "Woke" on the Right). Even when the Charlottesville "Unite the Right" march happened, JVP wasted no time in comparing Zionism with the very ideology fueling the people chanting "Jews Will Not Replace Us," saying that Zionism is "Jewish racial supremacy" and calling for a universal condemnation of the ideology as a form of White Supremacy... which was the exact sort of message that many of those same White Supremacists would have happily agreed with.  So JVP is essentially siding with literal White Supremacists,  even as they claim that "Jews are not the primary victims of White Supremacy."

JVP also engages in Holocaust revisionism, such as with this lovely quote from Cecilie Surasky, the deputy director of JVP, “I believe it is critical to situate the genocide of Jews in a broader context, and not as an exceptional, metaphysically unique event. Some 6 million Jews died, but another 5 million people were also targeted for annihilation.”

(another quote, from an article by Surasky, which compares Netanyahu to Hitler.)

This is just straight revisionism of the entire Holocaust and the unique fixation the Nazis had on the Jews. Literally, even when they were losing, they were diverting resources from the war just to kill more Jews. Quote Hitler himself, "Jews must be prevented from intruding themselves among all the other nations as elements of internal disruption, under the mask of honest world-citizens, and thus gaining power over these nations." The very basis of the Nazi ideology paints Jews as an existential threat to the human race's peace and security—a far cry from JVP's claim that the Jewish suffering in the Holocaust wasn't unique or exceptional.

Additionally, JVP ignores or re-envisions Mizrachi Jewish history. They call the very term Mizrachi “Zionist rhetoric,” and refer to Mizrachi “immigrants,” (“Deadly Exchange,” pg. 16-17), and claim “the Israeli government facilitated a mass immigration of Mizrahim” (“Our Approach to Zionism”) as though those weren’t the direct result of the mass expulsion of and violence against Jews in MENA countries. These weren’t immigrants, these were refugees. 

And as for the question of “Are they Jewish?”, well...

Statistically, they are not representative of the Jewish population as a whole, 90% of whom identify as some degree of Zionist in the sense of “Supporting Jewish self-determination.”  One does not need to be Jewish to join JVP, as they proudly state on their website. Their membership rolls are also extremely obfuscated, and the fact that they encourage their followers, whether Jewish or not, to post and speak “as Jews” on social media makes it even more difficult to figure out what percentage of their membership is actually Jewish.  Furthermore, they have instructions for their members to engage in “self-conversions” that are not acceptable to Jewish law or tradition, and misuse/appropriate other sacred Jewish traditions to the point that “blasphemy” is an accurate description, with their instructions on the mikvah (a sacred bath) being outright offensive.  

(note that one has to be completely nude and bare of any adornment or makeup to use the mikvah, which is a pure pool of collected rainwater to be immersed in, for context on the above... misuse.  Trying to claim this as being “in line with sacred Jewish tradition” is like trying to claim to be Catholic while also saying that the Pope is the Antichrist and that using beer and a doughnut for the Eucharist is acceptable. For more information on mikveh, see: The Jewish Virtual Library, Aish, myjewishlearning, or Chabad.

There's also no altar.

The irony of asking people not to appropriate while doing this is astonishing.)

It’s also telling that they straight up say they are “claiming” the practice as their own.

Furthermore, JVP has hosted panels on “antisemitism” in the past... headed by people who are not only not Jewish, but who have been credibly accused of antisemitism in the past.  

JVP has also endorsed The Mapping Project Boston, which was a Boycott, Divest, and Sanction (BDS) subsidiary, listing every “Zionist” organization in Boston, Mass. This included Jewish schools, elder homes, community centers, disability centers, and more; all of them painted with scary and misleading “links” to non-Jewish organizations to insinuate Jewish control of the state and city governments, invoking age-old antisemitic tropes of a conspiracy of Jews as they did so:

(first image is the Mapping Project, the second is a 1938 Nazi political cartoon)

The Mapping Project also, and this is my personal favorite, accused Harvard University of doing “racist science” for engaging in archeological and genetic studies of Jews and Jewish history.  Tellingly, BDS actually disavowed The Mapping Project (albeit for bad optics, not for the rank antisemitism they were promoting)... but JVP has not, even though the Mapping Project’s entry for the ADL reads as follows:

Masquerading as a “civil rights” group, the ADL is a counterinsurgency and espionage organization whose mission is to protect the mutual interests of the US and Israeli governments, and to eliminate solidarity among oppressed peoples, especially concerning Palestine. The ADL spies on and criminalizes activists (using its connections to governments, police, schools, and corporations) while undermining their work by pushing its own state-sanctioned, pro-“Israel” agenda. And while the ADL claims to represent Jews and to fight “antisemitism” on their behalf, the organization has supported anti-Jewish state violence and sanitized Nazis. The ADL cannot be reformed: it must be dismantled and whatever resources it has should go towards repairing the many harms it has done. (Emphasis added.)

Of course, JVP has also engaged in similar conspiracy-toned antisemitic dogwhistles, such as this fun bit from their first Deadly Exchange video:

So clearly (to me at least), they have no problems with The Mapping Project’s tone and presentation.  

And this isn’t even going into JVP’s routine promotion of blood libel, their egregious double standards, their approving of pogroms, their active support for Hamas terrorists and demonization of Hamas’ victims, their attempted revisionism of Jewish history, their abject rejection of Jewish culture, and their other actions that show not just bias, but outright hatred for 90% of the world’s Jews.  

As one commentator put it, JVP as an organization is very much like Autism Speaks is to Autistic people--a thinly disguised hate group that views the people they’re supposedly speaking for as the problem, and themselves as promoting the Solution.  To this moderator, they’re the equivalent of the Association of German National Jews, who were also known as the Jews for Hitler; they wanted to abandon Judaism and embrace Naziism... and they got sent to the gas chambers anyway.  

Mod Joseph

Sources:

www.adl.org/resources/backgrounder/jewish-voice-peace

www.jewishvoiceforpeace.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/Mikveh-Guide-for-Jewish-Voice-for-Peace-Outlined.pdf

(and also just... a general experience/exposure to them on social media, where even the most progressive actions taken by Israel, such as the recent ruling regarding queer Palestinians being able to claim sanctuary in Israel, being labeled as “pinkwashing”)

[purple-babygirl]

don't call me daddy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 4,826

Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.

Warnings: Bucky is mean, a couple of insults, mistreatment of age regressed reader, crying, mentions of hot liquid getting on skin, crying, mentions of the r-word, Bucky's PTSD & nightmares

A/N: so this is an idea I've had for forever and I finally mustered up enough courage to share it with you guys. Please enjoy and let me know what you think and if you have anything you'd like to suggest for the upcoming parts. I love you 💜

~

“This sounds stupid,” Bucky grumbled when Sam suggested the program.

“It's not stupid, Buck and it works!”

“If it worked for you doesn't mean it's gonna work for me, Sam. You have patience and it's in your nature to want to take care of people.”

“Says the one who looked out for Steve all his life!”

“Steve was one person and he was actually dumb, he wasn’t acting like he can't fucking feed himself!”

“They're not acting. They're age regressed.” Sam tried to remain calm.

“What does that even mean!”

“It means-”

“You know what? I don't care because I'm not doing it.” Bucky smiled before leaving Sam's house and going back to hide in his own.

But Sam was persistent. He was determined to get Bucky help that would actually help. So he suggested the program to Bucky's therapist and before Bucky could punch him, she was having him sign the contract.

“Sam, I don't wanna meet anyone. It's not gonna work anyway so let's just pick any of them.”

“They're not service dogs, Bucky!”

“Really? Because that's exactly what it sounds like they are to me.”

Sam glared at him, elbowing his side as a short lady with a kind smile approached them.

Bucky didn't pay her much attention. He didn't want to be here and he didn't care what she was reciting.

Only thing that caught his attention was when she asked him what age he would prefer so she could introduce him to a group of littles.

He was dreading this. It was stupid.

“…what are you looking for?” Bucky caught the end of her talk with Sam.

“I don't know, someone who can talk like they're not retarded,” he answered the lady rudely and she smiled in understanding when Sam apologized.

“They're not retarded. All of them are perfectly healthy and okay. They're age regressed,” she told Bucky and he rolled his eyes so hard he felt they might never return from the back of his head.

He hated those two words. Age regressed, what the fuck did that even mean?

“Maybe we can meet some of the littles who are not so young, like 6 year olds?” Sam suggested and she nodded, leading them to a building with long corridors and lots of doors.

Bucky could see adult women and men playing with dolls, sleeping with pacifiers and some of them even had other people feeding them.

What the hell was this place? Did they expect him to do that? With a person perfectly capable of handling his or her own self but chooses not to?! Was this the 21st century? Because he didn’t like it very much.

The lady led them inside her office and got a group of files out of some organized drawer. She'd barely laid them out on the table before Bucky was slamming his finger on one.

“We'll take this one,” he said, staring at the lady in disinterest.

“But you haven't even seen them,” Sam said between his teeth, kicking his leg under the table. He wished Bucky cared enough to do this right.

“I've seen enough. I pick this file and I wanna leave,” Bucky seethed back.

“This is Doll. She's one of the softest littles I've ever met and I think you've made a great choice, Mr. Barnes.”

“You call her Doll?”

“Yes, real names aren't revealed for the privacy of our littles unless they decide otherwise and she chose the name herself when she joined us.” The lady smiled kindly, making Bucky even madder.

“Whatever, let's get this over with. Tell her to come so we could leave.”

“Mr. Barnes, I have to admit your attitude towards this is very concerning and I fear I cannot risk the peace of our littles who confide in us to find them safe partners! Like I said she's one of the gentlest and I need to know you're going to treat her right before I even let you meet her!” The woman voiced her concerns and Bucky sighed.

He couldn't blow this now. He's come far enough with this whole process and if he went back to his therapist like that she was definitely going to get out her dreadful notebook.

He had to take this girl home tonight or else they would make him go through this same process over and over again.

“I'm sorry, I'm just a little confused, I guess.” Bucky scratched his beard.

“That's okay.” She smiled again, “most of our visitors are, but you can always ask.”

“Well- what is wrong with them?!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his hands in the air. Sam kicked him again and glared.

“What? She said I could ask!”

“It's okay,” she told Sam with a chuckle.

“Nothing is wrong with them. Them regressing in age is their way to cope and relieve anxiety or deal with other mental illnesses such as traumatic experiences, or even just stress. It's a freer, calmer state of mind for them to return to when it's no longer easy for them to be big.”

Her calm, kind manner while explaining this made Bucky even angrier inside. This wasn’t normal and they should all stop acting like it was.

“So they're supposed to be helping me with my issues but they're dealing with their own issues?”

Like he originally thought, this was stupid.

“Yes, it's a mutual helping program.” The lady confirmed.

“Oh. And what's this Doll's issue?”

“Doll reverts to age regression as a coping mechanism for her depression and PTSD. She's been doing great lately actually!”

“Is she suddenly gonna go grownup or-?” Bucky continued, involuntarily asking every question on his mind.

“No, like I said, Doll reverts to little space for the comfort and safety of it and while she can coax herself out of her headspace, she rarely ever chooses to.”

“But she can?”

“Yes. But I need to tell you, Mr. Barnes, that this is not why you're here.” She reminded, wanting to ensure the safety of self expression for the little one.

“I know.”

“I also need you to promise me to be a good caregiver for her. She's a sweet girl and I can guarantee she will be good for you.”

“I promise.” Bucky knew he was lying but he couldn’t care less about his honesty at the moment.

“And it’s never acceptable to make fun of her or try to force her into a more grownup headspace. That only makes it worse and her mind regresses further.”

“So what she becomes younger?!” he was trying so hard not to get frustrated, why make him!

“That's correct.” She nodded.

“How young?” Sam asked.

“The youngest she's ever been is 4.”

“Oh.” Great. Just great.

“She can still talk just fine,” she reassured them, knowing Bucky didn't want anyone who couldn't talk or seemed 'retarded'.

“Okay, good.” Bucky nodded, wanting to get out of the place as soon as possible.

“Would you like to meet Doll now or do you wanna take a look at the rest of the files?”

“I'll meet her.” Bucky stood up, hand already at the doorknob.

~

The meeting thing went relatively well and Bucky was surprised the girl wasn't intimidated by his frown or intense stare. She was mesmerized by the metal arm even.

He wasn't going to lie to himself, he still thought this whole thing was dumb but he needed to convince his therapist and everyone that he was okay again so they'd leave him alone.

She didn’t ask him any questions or have any conditions. She just stared at him with wide, sparkly eyes.

A minute later he heard the girl whisper her agreement to the short lady.

Apparently, she was big enough to make the decision to leave with a strange man she didn't know but not enough to properly dress herself or sleep without a damn toy.

Bucky was relieved anyway; glad she was idiotic enough to choose him so he wouldn't have to meet with any other 'littles'. And she wasn't ugly to look at either.

The old lady had a word with her privately before she was packing a bag and they were on their way to Bucky’s place.

~

“Where do I stay, daddy?”

Bucky hasn’t said a word to her since they’d left the institution. He made her carry her bag from the car to the elevator and from the elevator inside the apartment. He wasn’t going to be nobody’s maid.

She was physically capable and that didn’t need a professional to see it.

“I don’t know, figure it out.” Bucky shrugged, kicking his shoes off by the door and stepping inside.

She followed his lead and neatly placed her shoes at the corner by the door as well.

“Where do you want me to stay, daddy?” she asked politely, wanting to make him comfortable, seeing he was the owner of the house.

He was making her a little nervous.

This wasn’t his energy back at the institution and she tried her best not to get scared.

“I don't want you. I never did,” Bucky told her the minute she sat on his couch, throwing his keys on the wooden coffee table, “We're just gonna pretend your presence here is changing something and then I'm gonna return you.”

I don't want you.

She's definitely heard that before.

Return her. Like she was some sort of item. She wasn't what he wanted and it cracked her trained-to-love heart.

“Yes, daddy,” she replied brokenly, tears threatening to spill over the rims of her eyes.

Nothing was worse than feeling unwanted.

“Don't call me that.” Bucky snapped.

“B-But you're my daddy.” She was seriously confused now. Why would he pick her if he didn’t want this?

“I'm not your anything and stop acting so small, you look grown up enough to me.”

Why did he take her home if he didn’t like her and didn’t want to be her Daddy?

“I'm not acting.” Tears rolled down her cheeks and she felt more insecure than ever.

“Yeah, yeah, you're age regressed. Whatever, just don't call me that. I'm no one's daddy.” Bucky took his shirt off throwing it on the couch beside her, making her flinch.

“But what should I call you if not-”

“Call me Mr. Barnes, if you're so keen on being polite.” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She sniffled.

“And stop crying.” He huffed.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She quickly wiped at her face, holding the rest of her tears inside and forcing the lump in her throat further down.

Bucky muttered something under his breath before snatching his shirt and leaving to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him as she flinched again.

He didn't say she was a good girl for calling him what he wanted, or for stopping her crying when she was told to. He didn't like her and he wanted to return her.

What was she supposed to do until he sent her back? He didn't want her help even if they said he needed it.

Was it going to be like this for the next 3 months? How was she going to do all of the grown up stuff if Daddy Mr. Barnes didn't help her? How was she going to live? And why did she still care to try her best to be good for the harsh, blue-eyed man?

~

She didn’t know what to do so she sloppily changed her clothes by herself, putting her socks in the hamper to be washed like a good girl.

She washed her hands and feet by herself, unknowingly making Bucky think he was right all along about letting her do things on her own as she should.

That was until he put a hot cup of instant noodles before her for dinner though. He refused to help her eat and she accidentally spilled hot soup over her hand and the wooden table. It was chaos.

Bucky cursed out loud and she started crying in pain.

He had enough pity on her to drag her to the bathroom and put her hand under the cold water. If his hold on her arm hurt, she didn’t say anything.

“Keep it there, don’t you dare move.”

“Mr. Barnes, don’t leave,” she sniffled, eyes red and in pain.

“I’m not leaving you in the Sahara desert.” Bucky rolled his eyes, “I gotta go clean the mess you made.” He left her in the bathroom and she kept her hand under the water, not daring to move like she was told.

“How hard is it to eat fucking noodles! It’s not quantum physics!”

Bucky muttered angrily as he wiped the soup off the table with a cloth.

“Fuck that age regression shit I am done!” he took their noodle cups to the kitchen and dumped both in the bin.

“What are you still doing in there! It’s not like you got burnt by lava!” Bucky shouted to her, walking to the bathroom.

“I- I- Mr. Barnes, you told me not to move.” She began crying again at his angry demeanor.

“For fuck’s sake,” Bucky groaned, “do you ever stop crying?!”

“I’m s-sorry.” She hiccupped. She didn’t know what to say or how to please him she just wanted him to stop glaring at her. She was scared.

“Get out of there and dry your hands,” Bucky told her, sitting on the couch with a sigh.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” Came her chocked whisper.

“Does it hurt?” Bucky asked when she came out of the bathroom, tears drying on her cheeks.

The question surprised her. Maybe he did care after all.

“Burns a little,” she told him, pointing to the back of her hand where the skin got burnt.

“I might have a cream here somewhere,” he said, trying his best to keep an unconcerned expression on.

She took a look around when Bucky stood up to look in the kitchen. It was a cozy place and she wasn’t too needy but she couldn’t help but wonder about where she was going to sleep.

There didn’t seem to be enough furniture in here.

“Try not to touch it and you should be fine in the morning,” Bucky instructed after applying the burns cream to the sensitive area of skin.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” She whispered before absentmindedly pecking Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky’s eyes widened at her guts. He certainly didn’t see that coming. It was her first night here how was she so bold!

His breath stuttered out of his lungs but he quickly recomposed himself.

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he gave her a dark stare.

“Do you have a death wish?”

“N-No.” She quickly shook her head.

“Did I give you permission to do that?”

“No.” She shook her head again, sort of knowing where this was going. She was going to get punished.

“Then why’d you do it?” Bucky sneered through his teeth.

“To th-thank Mr. Barnes.” He made her so nervous she could barely hear herself answer him.

Bucky hated her. She had no sense of boundaries. He hated the way she cried all the time. He hated the way she referred to him in third person.

He hated her.

“You already said that, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Don’t do it again.” Was all Bucky said and she was relieved.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky scoffed and stood up to put the cream back where he found it.

~

Turned out, Bucky had no bed. He slept on the floor and he didn’t need one.

“But where do I sleep, Mr. Barnes?” She asked in a small voice.

“Anywhere that is not next to me,” Bucky replied, not even sparing her a glance.

“Can I sleep here?” she asked, patting the couch.

“Suit yourself.”

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” She gave a shy smile.

“I didn’t make the damn couch. Just go to sleep.”

“Bad word again,” she whispered.

“What was that?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing.” She slammed a hand on her mouth.

“Repeat what you just said if you know what’s good for you.” Bucky glared.

“I- Mr. Barnes said a bad word,” she whispered shakily.

“Yeah, well, it’s my house! I’ll talk however I want!” Bucky raised his voice.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She nodded, not even thinking about arguing that he shouldn’t curse in front of a little.

“Go to sleep.”

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She quickly plopped on the couch, covering herself with a blanket, and burying her face in a cushion.

Bucky almost chuckled; almost thought it was cute but he shook the smile off his face quickly and sighed, taking his shirt off and getting himself on the hard floor, easily falling asleep.

He always falls asleep so fast because nightmares usually wake him up few hours after; he be waiting for bed time all day.

She peeked from under the blanket when she heard Bucky snore, carefully tiptoeing to her bag to get her stuffie. She took one look at shirtless Bucky, her cheeks heating up, before sliding back under the covers on the couch.

Her Daddy that didn’t like to be called Daddy was beautiful.

~

It has started again. He’s chasing a person, he corners them to where they could not run anymore, his left hand wraps around their throat, they struggle and beg and then snap. He kills them.

Bucky startled awake, having a hard time taking his breath only to find her on the floor next to him.

Her eyes were full of worry and maybe even sympathy as she clutched a stuffed animal. Bucky didn’t like it.

“It’s okay, Daddy- Mr. Barnes. ‘T was just a bad dream.” She whispered, dropping her stuffie to wrap her short arms around Bucky.

He wouldn’t admit it but it felt nice to be held. Something inside him wanted to succumb to the gentleness of her gesture. But Bucky shut that down at once.

“Get off,” Bucky huffed tiredly as the girl clung to him and rubbed his sweaty back.

“But-”

“Get. Off.” He repeated, grinding his teeth and she reluctantly slipped off his lap and went back to her spot on the floor.

She stared at him as he panted and frowned for a second before leaving the room.

Bucky scoffed, rubbing a hand down his hot face. She probably went to cry in the bathroom again; such a crybaby.

Except she didn’t.

She returned with a relatively cool glass of water, only half full. She didn't want to be bad and spill.

“I got you water, Mr. Barnes.” She carefully got on her knees and offered him the cup.

“Stop saying my name so much.” Bucky snatched the cup out of her hand, gulping down the water without showing an ounce of gratitude.

She pouted, crawling to her bag to get him tissues because she didn’t see any around.

“So you do know how to act around liquids after all.” Bucky taunted, still not over the fact that she spilled soup over his table before taking the tissues from her to wipe his forehead.

“Do you want me to sing you a lullaby, Mr. Barnes? It helps me after bad dreams.” She suggested, desperately hoping he would let her help.

“Not all of us act like kids to flee our nightmares.”

“Mr. Barnes.” Her eyes filled with tears and it was the last thing Bucky wanted to deal with, “I’m not acting.”

She was hurt but he didn’t care. He said what he said.

“Get back on the couch, I wanna go to sleep.” Bucky dismissed, pushing the empty glass against the wall.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She whispered dejectedly, taking her friend and crawling back to the couch.

~

The same thing happened every night for another four nights. At this point she was really worried about the man she started singing lullabies anyway, not waiting for his permission.

“Hey, you!”

“Doll,” she corrected.

“Whatever! Shut up already. I told you I don’t need your stupid singing.” Bucky growled into his pillow.

He was lying. He hated admitting it but he was. Her voice was actually angelic. He never went back to sleep again after a nightmare but that changed when she ignored his wishes and started singing. Bucky could drift off again to her soft voice.

He could get more hours of nightmareless sleep because of her lullabies. But he was too stubborn to admit anything that came from her was working for him.

It must be a coincidence. He probably fell asleep again because he was exhausted from being mad at her all day.

“I know Mr. Barnes doesn’t need it. It’s for me.” She lied as well. She knew lying wasn’t good girl like but she was helping Mr. Barnes; it was for good reason.

~

“Mr. Barnes,” her small voice called to him but Bucky was ignoring her.

He was pretending he couldn’t hear her and continued staring at the TV because she talked too much for his liking.

“Mr. Barnes.” She ever so lightly touched Bucky’s arm.

“What!” he spit suddenly, making her jump.

“We- We need to go shopping. Mrs. Morrison will visit tomorrow.”

She knew the process and for some reason didn’t want to be taken away from Bucky.

If Mrs. Morrison came and saw the way the apartment was or the way Bucky treated Doll, she was definitely going to make her leave with her.

“What?!”

“It’s day five.” She reminded, tilting her head to the side.

“Yeah, so?” Bucky’s body fully turned to face her.

“It’s visit day. We have to go shopping.”

“How do I know you’re not lying just to get me to buy you things?”

“I don’t lie, Mr. Barnes.” She assured him, looking hurt at even the suggestion.

“It’s in the papers,” she told him, referring to the contract he’s signed as well as the guide he was provided with her file before leaving the institution.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at her, but stood up to look at the papers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer in the kitchen a few days ago.

“Shit,” he muttered when he saw she wasn’t lying. He heard her whisper bad word but chose to ignore it.

There were scheduled visits listed with different time intervals between each visit for the next three months.

Bucky groaned, throwing the paper sheet back in the drawer and slamming it shut.

“Put your clothes on, we’re going fucking shopping.”

“Bad word.”

“Don’t even-” she ran to the bathroom to change before Bucky could get angrier.

What has Sam gotten him into?

~

“Why’s your hair so messy!” Bucky asked, shoving her out of his way to grab a jar of peanut butter and put in the cart.

“I don’t know how to do it on my own an’ Mr. Barnes kept telling me to hurry up.”

Her voice was so small and if Bucky wasn’t so infuriated by the situation he would’ve felt bad for how he spoke to her.

“You’d think you’d actually look decent enough after taking forever to get ready.” Bucky huffed.

She remained silent, looking down and closing in on herself.

“Do you eat this?” Bucky asked, waving a box of corn flakes in front of her.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky nodded, throwing the box in the cart.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop saying my name so much?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barn-” Bucky’s cold stare stopped the word on her tongue.

“Call me Bucky.”

He didn’t want her to call him Bucky. But if that Mrs. Morrison was visiting tomorrow she couldn’t know he made her speak to him formally.

“Bucky?”

“Bucky.”

“Yes, Bucky.” She smiled shyly, feeling one step closer to the man.

Bucky didn’t know his life would turn upside down so fast.

He never cared about grocery shopping because he didn’t need that much stuff and he mostly ate at restaurants or diners or bought take out. He mainly just had beer filling his fridge.

But with her tied to him now he was buying all kinds of food: fresh vegetables and fruits, juice boxes, snack bars and way too many Oreos. Not to mention the toiletries he had to pay for because aside from her tooth and hair brushes, she came with nothing.

“Bucky, can we please get this?” she asked, pointing to a stuffed white wolf.

“No, you already have one at home. I see it every night.”

“Please, Bucky, please. Pretty please,” she begged, giving puppy eyes and pressing her palms together even.

“Okay, fine, shut up. God!” Bucky grumpily put the toy in the cart and got them to the nearest cashier before she could pick anything else.

She was so happy and was going to cherish her new stuffie more than ever.

~

Bucky was pacing back and forth in the living room. He needed to find a way to convince her not to tell Mrs. Morrison or whatever her name was how he treated her.

He didn’t want her to know she had any type of power over him because of the situation.

Bucky definitely wasn’t going to say please, but he also knew he couldn’t scare her into saying what he wanted.

“Bucky, please go to bed. Wolfie can’t sleep.” She whined, hugging her newest stuffie to her heart.

Bucky gave her yet another hard glare. She made him so angry that sometimes he forgot how to function. She was so spoiled and oblivious.

“I won’t say anything to Mrs. Morrison,” she whispered.

“You think I care what you have to say?! They could take you right now for all I care!” Bucky replied angrily.

“I know…” she mumbled, “I don’t want them to.”

Her words left Bucky without a reply. He was confused. She didn’t want to leave? Why not? Bucky hasn’t said one kind word to her since she’s been entrusted to him.

Was she some type of masochist?

“I wanna stay with Bucky. Sing him lullabies and eat noodles with him,” she said, her voice soft and heavy with sleep, before her eyes shut as she drifted off.

Her words put Bucky at ease for now and he got on the floor to finally try to get some sleep. He tried to ignore the way they affected him though.

~

“Bucky,” she called gently.

“Hmm.”

“I need to shower,” came her timid whisper.

“Do you see me using the bathroom?! Help yourself.” Bucky huffed, stirring the sugar in his mug.

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?!” he snapped, throwing the spoon in the sink.

“I need Bucky’s help.” Her face was on fire with embarrassment of having to say this out loud.

“For fuck’s sake,” Bucky rolled his eyes, pushing his mug aside before grabbing her arm and pushing her to the bathroom.

She whimpered as they stood before the glass door of the shower.

“This, because you’re not stupid you’re just age regressed, opens the hot water.” Bucky pointed to the tap handle on the right. “This opens the cold water. And this-”

“Bucky, that’s not what I need help with.” She shook her head, biting down on her lip.

“What do you want from me then?!” Bucky had no patience and her bashfulness wasn’t helping.

She raised her arms up before whispering, “I need Bucky to gimme a shower.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Bad word.”

“Don’t start now! You don’t know how to shower?!”

She shook her head, pouting as her eyes got teary again, “not when little.”

“This is bullshit. I didn’t even wanna do this. Damn you, Sam Wilson!” Bucky said, walking out of the bathroom angrily as she trailed behind him like the lost puppy she was.

“Bad word.”

“Stop!” Bucky boomed and she put her hands behind her back timidly.

“Please, Bucky,” she begged, getting hold of his hand.

“No! On my dead body!”

~

“Stand straight or I swear I’m gonna leave you here and go!”

“Yes, Bucky,” she giggled, the water trickling down her spine tickling her.

“Now what?” he huffed, trying not to stare at her naked chest.

“Now, this.” She held up the bottle of conditioner for him and Bucky sighed before taking it and squeezing some on his hand.

He was about to smooth it down her scalp when she moved away.

“No, no! This goes on the ends or else it gives you dandruff,” She said and Bucky would’ve facepalmed so hard if it wasn’t for the slippery matter covering his palms.

This was going to be long.

~

She was fast asleep on Bucky’s couch after her shower, so peaceful and without a care in the world.

Bucky envied her as he got in place on the floor. He really wished he had enough flexibility in him to accept help and care from someone.

But no, he didn't need her. He didn't need any of this. He just had to go through tomorrow and the rest will figure itself out.

Yeah, yeah just tomorrow for now, Bucky thought as he drifted off.

part II

~

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[queers-gambit]

Save Me From Myself

prompt: ( requested ) in a moment of unparalleled anger, you learn what Joel really thinks of you.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Last of Us

word count: (short as hell at) 1.9k+

warnings: very mild spoilers, there's probably cursing, oneshot (no part two), hurt no comfort, mild angst, shorty shorty short short shorty! author is disappointed in this one, she wanted to give much more.

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"Gimme that," you grunted at Ellie, picking her backpack from her shoulder with ease as the shorter young lady protested with a small growl.

"I got it - "

"Take a break," you smiled at the kid, shouldering her pack. "Tell me another one of those shitty jokes you love so much."

Ellie smirked and whipped out her book, flipping through a few pages, scanning the pages, then deciding on one. "What... Is Beethoven's favorite fruit?"

You shrugged, "No idea."

"Ba-na-na-naaaaa!"

You laughed, you couldn't help it. "Goddamnit. That's a good one," you praised, eyeing her for a moment as she silently read down the page. You wondered, "You know, I meant to ask, but why that book in particular?"

"My friend gave it to me... It was a present," she explained softly, seeing your head nod of understanding. "What did one ocean say to the other?"

"Nothing, they just waved," you smirked.

"You shithead," she tisked. "Okay, okay, here's a good one. What's brown... And sticky?"

"Oh, Ellie, don't be gross - "

"A stick."

There was a long pause.

"Oh, you know what? Fuck you," You laughed heartily. "I gotta remember that, I like that one."

"You'll like this one, too. Why should you never trust stairs?"

You knew the answer, but humored her, "Why?"

"Because they're always up to something."

You chuckled, "Good one, kid, yeah. Okay, okay, wait, I got one."

"Lay it on me."

"How do you cut a Roman Emperors hair?"

"How?" She grinned, ready for the punchline.

"With Caesars."

Ellie paused, offering a confused look, "I don't get that one."

You both stared at one another for a long moment, still walking through the cold, dead field.

"You don't know Julius Caesar?"

"No? Who the hell is that?"

You chuckled, "You know what? Just as well, who fucking cares about the Roman Empire when we're living in the end-of-days?"

"It's a decent joke," Joel spoke for the first time in hours; holding his rifle protectively as he lead you both through the wilderness, "for what it's worth."

You smirked at Ellie and teased, "Told you I was funny."

"You used the term punny."

"Both are accurate."

"I think you're just an idiot."

"I think you've got a helluva mouth on you."

Ellie grinned and flipped through her book, your gaze trailing to Joel and eyeing him for a long moment. You've known him since you were 19 and hired to babysit his daughter, Sarah. Joel was everything you could've asked for - loyal, sweet, protective, respectful. You had been at their house, doing coursework for your university program when the Outbreak happened. You did what you could to help protect Sarah, but in the end, nobody was safe, nobody was immune, and Death stretch His hand unto all of mankind alike.

He left only select few, you, Joel, and Tommy being amongst the survivors.

The past twenty years had been anything but easy, and while you had gone into this pandemic together, you and Joel didn't actually stick together the whole time. When you settled in Boston with Tommy, Tess, and a few other nomads, you were exhausted from the brutality you were forced to survive in, and so, first chance you had, you broke away.

Technically, you and Tommy broke away. But still.

Joel turned to a life of shadiness with Tess at his right hand (and on his cock). The two of you becoming estranged, until he saved your ass from a pair of FEDRA agents harassing citizens.

He didn't just distract your assailants, but put them in the dirt, helped pick you up, dust off, check for injury, then escort you home. Once at your apartment, he ensured you weren't hurt and was truly okay, and after that, he was back in your life - like the snap of fingers.

You hated to admit it, but it felt nice having a constant back in your life. Joel was your tether to reality, and without him, you felt akin to a kite with the string cut - useless and drifting away.

After that, you came around a little more to see how much your old neighbor had changed in your time apart. Joel was familiar, he was family; had always been something of a source of peace for you. He was usually protective of your wellbeing - even if he had a strange (and borderline unhealthy) way of showing it - creating a bubble of safety.

You eventually left the Fireflies and met Bill and Frank, venturing out and about with Joel and Tess; the latter of who simply despised you for just existing. She was never fond of you, more so now that Joel was obviously attached to you.

Joel never let her argue about you; he never cared for her opinion nor what assumptions she had. He kept you close, he liked your close; and if she sneered any hateful slander, Joel was swift to push her away in favor of you.

One time, he even literally locked her out of the apartment because she was rude to you and told you to "get lost!".

How could you not feel safe? Comfortable? Secure?

When you made it to Jackson and found Tommy once more, you were overjoyed by his familiar face and scent, but quickly pulled him aside to voice your concern for Joel.

"He's been clutching his chest, walking slower than I've seen before," you whispered to Tommy. "I don't think he's havin' a heart episode, but somethin' ain't right, Tommy. He's not doing the best."

"I'll talk to him," he assured.

You believed him, there was no reason not to. You (willfully blindly) believed Tommy would go about this subject with sensitivity and wouldn't mention your words of concern, but you were wrong. Very wrong. Joel had a known temper and if he caught wind that you spoke his name, even in passing, he would lash out, so, truly, you thought Tommy wouldn't tip Joel off.

The moment you returned "home" (to the house you, Ellie, and Joel were offered), you were met with a fuming Joel and an awkward looking Ellie. "What's going on?" You felt worried, fearing for the worst, asking, "What's wrong?"

"You," Joel snapped. "You're what's wrong."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Joel," Ellie tried with a frown, "she just walked in 0 "

"You had a word with Tommy now, did'yah?" He demanded, ignoring Ellie to focus his glare fully on you.

"Well - yeah - I mean - "

"No," he seethed with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow, "where the hell you get off talkin' to my brother like that? Huh? You worried 'bout me, you say somethin' to me - otherwise, the hell you talkin' for?"

"Joel - "

"You overstepped," he shook his head and pointed a scolding finger at you, "and my health ain't your concern - "

"Of course, it is! Fuck's sake, how can you even say that? I get you're mad, fine, okay, you know what? I get it, I'm sorry if I overstepped by telling Tommy how worried I am, but for the love of God, Joel, I am worried about you because you're not the same man you once were!"

"Are any of us?" He huffed.

"You don't think we've noticed the way you've slowed? How you clutch your chest? I'm allowed to be worried - "

"You know, if you weren't so Goddamn clingy all the time, you wouldn't feel whatever compulsion this is to concern yourself with something that ain't got shit to do with you."

You blinked in shock, feeling disarmed by the harsh tone and bruising words he offered. "Joel, we're both worried about you,," Ellie stepped in again. "Don't be such a dick, she's just looking out for you."

"By involving those that don't need to be involved?" He sneered, glaring at the girl before rounding on you. "From now on, you stay in your place - enough with this - this fucking - this protector bullshit you think of me as. You cling any fucking tighter and I'll suffocate, so back the hell off."

You nodded slowly, watching him storm off; door slamming after him hard enough to make both you and Ellie flinch. "I, uh..." You cleared your throat, "I should... Um, uh, you know what, I'll jusy - uh, yeah, no, I can just... Yeah, I should - yeah."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"You didn't do anything."

"No, but that wasn't very nice of him to say."

"No, I suppose not," you smiled ruefully, giving a hearty, heavy sniffle. "I should, you know, go and find somewhere to crash - "

"Why wouldn't you stay here?"

"I don't exactly like to linger where I'm not wanted," you mused, keeping your tears at bay. "I just need to clear my head for a bit. Go for a walk or something. Maybe he just needs some space, I don't want to be here and upset him more... You two have a mission at hand," you tried to smile, "that's bigger than us all, and whether I see the end of it or not doesn't matter now - what matters is you, Ellie. This petty squabble will pass," you lied, "because you're all that matters. I won't risk further upsetting Joel, gambling with this already sketchy-ass plan and put everything we've worked towards so far at jeopardy."

You both smiled ruefully.

"I know when to walk away," you ended softly.

She nodded, opening her mouth but closing it instantly; knowing you were stubborn enough that she didn't even attempt to stop you. So, she did the only thing she knew she could do: offered her joke book.

"Oh, Ellie, no," you breathed, "no, no, I can't take that, it was a gift."

"And now I'm gifting it to you," she shrugged, holding the book out. "C'mon, just take it, it'll make me feel good knowing you're cracking shitty jokes to yourself - or whoever will listen."

"I can't take this," you whispered.

"Just make sure you stay alive to give it back," Ellie compromised.

"Deal," you smirked, opening your arms and embracing the girl the moment she rushed into your chest. "I'll miss you," you whispered. You promised to see her as soon as you could (so you could return the joke, of course), kissed her forehead, then grabbed your bag, which had yet to be unpacked, and left the house.

You managed to find lodging in the old cantina, and you'd never know that when Joel got back that evening and saw your items gone, he breathed a sigh of relief. In his head, with you gone, it was one less painful reminder of Sarah, the life he had before; and while his mind played tricks into thinking he saw Sarah in town today, he realized you were the constant trigger.

The single strand that kept him in the past.

Constant reminder of who he was, who he wanted to be.

Prevented him from truly moving on.

Though not done in the best or most respectful way, in his heart, Joel knew he needed to shove you into the mud to get you to let go; you saw too much "good" in him. You saw him in the same light as Sarah, and he couldn't handle that; could not fathom that there was anyone left in this world who saw anything remotely humane in him.

So, Joel did what he did best: made his own life infinitely harder by pushing away those who loved him.

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[sakurayumekun]

PRO-ANA GUIDE HANDBOOK 

An anorexic mind

First of all, let's work on the psychology first. Be sure to fuck up your relationship with food from the start. You want to make yourself as neurotic as possible about food, eating, kitchens, cutlery, refrigerators, restaurants, and hey, why not stretch this out even further and start hating the actual source of foods, in other words the actual animals and plants. I myself am utterly opposed to factories. Any kind of factory. Even pillow factories, hell they're all the same. But you! Spread those bad thoughts! Hate that chicken!!! Unless of course, you're going for the sympathetic, oh the poor animals, vegan slant. That's a good one too. Firstly, reaffirm your mission. Immortalise it. Buy a fat, blank notebook, this will become your own personal anorexic sanctuary of sorts. Write down WHY you want to lose weight. Be sure to include things like how you will feel when you're 10lbs lighter, the glorious clothes you will fit into, an occasion that you would like to be thinner for like your sixteenth birthday, etc. Give yourself a final goal, and break it up into several, smaller, goalpoints. For example, if you weigh 140lbs and would like to eventually be 90lbs, list points along the way which signify a victory for you. For example, 130lbs, and then 115lbs, then 110lbs, then 100lbs, and so on. Re-read this again and again for inspiration. You will be using this notebook later to create tackytown anorexia-inspired collages and other paraphernalia.

Visualisation. Following the same strain as NLP, or Neuro Linguistic Programming, we must use the principles of association to retrain your consciousness, and sub-consciousness, to turn food into one of the greater evils of the world. (Read: the greatest evil!!) Start by associating food with disgusting things. For your first ever fast, it may be helpful to draw pictures of juicy red apples, somehow morphing into giant dead rotting pigs. Plaster these all around your house, preferably on the food itself. Never underestimate the power of images. Put pictures of fat girls on your fridge, or better yet, pictures of yourself; you're pretty fat. Conversely, stick pictures of rakish models everywhere you can see them, for inspiration, and a bit of productive self-loathing. Also, practise writing things like "I'm fat" over and over. You want to drill this into your brain. "I will be thin" is a good one, as well as other "I will" affirmations. These are positive statements and very conducive to big time weight loss. Now create a list of suitable punishments either for thinking of food, or for caving in and eating food itself. A good one to try is to keep a rubber band on your hand and flick your skin whenever you think of eating. Eventually you will have a swollen hand, and a shrunken body; you will have ceased thinking of food so much. Other punishments include ridiculous amounts of exercise, purging, self-mutilation, isolation, basic denial of necessary comforts such as blankets on a cold night, or shelter when it is raining... Or simply menial, disgusting tasks such as cleaning the bathroom. Remember, you need discipline. Invent pain and hassles for yourself. Trick yourself into believing your life sucks. Be mean to people so that they instigate fights, just to make you constantly on edge, or nervous, so you cant eat. After all, you'll be light-headed and dizzy, and irritable from not eating, so you have an excuse. I used to love when dad got mad at me because it meant I was so upset I could not eat. Become an angst ridden teenager. You'll be making yourself nauseous from worry and self hatred in no time. Find another anorexic to consort with. Whether this be in real life, or on the internet. You can swap tips and indulge in your little sordid anorexia world together, force each other to exercise, pat each other on the back when you reach goals, etc. You want to completely surround yourself with all thoughts of anorexia. Find pro-anorexia websites, or create your own. Sign up for one of the dozens of pro-anorexic mailing lists at Yahoo! and you'll be bombarded daily with like minded individuals. Now, immerse yourself further in anorexia propaganda, read anorexia or otherwise 'thin' inspired literature, listen to anorexic music, watch as many triggering films as you can get your delicate little mitts on, look up to very thin hollywood stars and supermodels. Also, visit as many of the aforementioned pro-anorexia sites as you can to get a bunch of quotes and mantras to write in your anorexia notebook, and repeat inside your head daily. I have compiled a list of such sources of thinspiration.

Thinspiration

Triggering music

This is essential. You must familiarise yourself with the very teenage and angstyartists and be sure to play the music over and over to thoroughly depress yourself. Ones to keep in mind are:

Fiona Apple - "Paper Bag" ... Hunger hurts but starving works...

Silverchair - "Ana's Song (Open Fire)" ... And I need you now somehow, and I need you now somehow ... On my knees for you... In my head the flesh seems thicker...

 Juliana Hatfield - "Feed Me"... Oh baby if only you knew, I'm down to 102...

Tori Amos - "Jackie's Strength" ... You're only popular with anorexia, so I turn myself inside out, in hopes someone will see...

Anorexic mantras

 You must collect as many of these as possible. Write them in your anorexia notebook, memorise them, let them comfort you. Some examples are:

"An imperfect body reflects an imperfect person." 

 "You will be tempted quite frequently, and you will have to choose whether you will enjoy yourself hugely in the 20 minutes or so that you will be consuming the excess calories, or whether you will dislike youself cordially for 2 or 3 days for your lack of willpower." 

 "I'm not starving myself...I'm perfecting my emptiness." 

 "I can get thinner. I can cut it all off. I can wear low slung Levi's and crop tops and long straight dresses like willowy models, and I gasp with the breathlessness of being airborne. I can fly and be free. Jesus! I never realised how easy it was!" 

 "Nothing tastes as good as thin feels." 

 "The greasy fry, it cannot lie, its truth is written on your thigh," 

 Devour literature, not food

Words and text are very very triggering when it comes to not eating. For one thing, it gives you a world to inhabit, your very own private, magnificent anorexia world which nobody else around you can touch, and you shall have characters to understand you. You will be so riveted that you will not need to eat. Books to check out include:

The best little girl in the world by Steven Levenkron

Wasted by Marya Hornbacher

The fountainhead by Ayn Rand - not about anorexia per se, but Dominique

Francon is the fucking epitome of ethereal, insubstantial, bony grace.

 I am an artichoke by Lucy Frank

Starving for attention by Cherry Boone O'Neill

 Hunger scream by Ivy Ruckman

 Diary of an eating disorder by Chelsea Smith and Beverly Runyon

My sister's Bones by Cathi Hanauer

Stick figure by Lori Gottlieb

Eve's apple by Jonathan Rosen

Thinspiring films and TV shows

These might be about anorexia itself, or it might simply be glamorous and include very thin beautiful people. Movies and television programmes I know others find thinspiring are:

Girl, Interrupted

For The Love Of Nancy

 Ally McBeal

Role models

 You need somebody to idolise. You must research him or her to the bones and become as close to her as possible. Become obsessed. Some suitable examples include those in the following list, who are either very skinny, or have, or have had anorexia:

Kate Moss - 90's waif

 Angelina Jolie - skinny sexy actress, e.g. Girl, Interrupted and Gia

Christina Ricci - actress, had anorexia

Calista Flockhart - Ally McBeal

Lara Flynn Boyle - glamorous and snobby, never eats

Tracey Gold - actress who suffered from anorexia

Karen Carpenter - musician and classic anorexic

Portia de Rossi - actress on Ally McBeal who went through a stage of dangerous dieting

Geri Halliwell - formerly Ginger Spice, engaged in a 'thin war' with:

 Victoria Beckham - formerly Posh Spice

Courtney Cox - actress on Friends, bony and gaunt

Twiggy - iconoclastic model

Mary Kate - had anorexia... perfection

Jodie Kidd - impossibly thin model

Nicole Richie - Thin thin thin

 Audrey Hepburn - quintessential class, very petite

This should be enough to sufficiently fuck up and cloud your perceptions. Above all, convince yourself you are above others, a hero, owing to your spectacular powers of restraint. Feel elitist. Feel as though you are somehow super-human for resisting the urge to eat. Feel better than the other mere mortals who dig in to their cereal and their donuts. Believe in the power of starving as though it were a religion.

Extreme dieting

Now we can move on to the actual act of excessive dieting itself. First off we should establish clear limits. Make up rules you cannot deviate from. Only eat yellow foods on Monday, and brown foods on Tuesday. Or only eat every other day. Or only eat at night. Or only eat on days with the letter "u" in them. Or become a vegan. Or a fruitarian. Or follow your own version of a well known diet, such as the ever popular low carb diets, e.g., the Zone Diet, Atkin's Diet. Use your imagination. I knew a model who swore her secret was living on sushi, candy, oranges, cigarettes, and water. Another tip to try is to only allow yourself one food a day. You will get sick of the taste and therefore eat less due to boredom.

 Now, compile a list of safe foods. Here is a fairly comprehensive list:

Low Cal Jelly (or Jello, for you Americans)

Celery - it is composed highly of water, it is crunchy, which is said to cause you to eat less, owing to the amount you have to chew it, it is considered acatabolic food

Carrots are also another safe vegetable (although most vegetables can be on your safe list, these are merely the safest of the safe)

Salsa and mustard - dieting staples. You can dip vegetables in them, they are fat free and low cal, and salsa brings cravings to an abrupt halt.

Spicy foodsare also thought to fire up your metabolism

 Vinegar - thought to thoroughly reduce your appetite. It is suggested you drink a tablespoon or two before each meal.

Lemons dipped in a sugar substitute such as Splenda or Nutrasweet. (note: In some anorexia circles, even fruit is no good, besides oranges, which are a 50cal food)

Broth (only 5 calories per cube!!)

Egg white - much needed protein

Pickles

Lettuce - an absolute 'nothing' food

Cucumbers - very very low cal

Soup

Safe foods are merely foods that are safe to eat if you are craving foods outside your set meals. They are extremely low cal, or no cal. As for your actual daily intake of food, most wannabe anorexics tend to stick within the 500 - 1000 calorie range depending on how much exercise they do. Never be shy when it comes to considering taking certain drugs to reduce or diminish appetite. Some antidepressant medication such as Wellbutrin have this effect, as well as Topamax, which is originally an anti-convulsive but has been and can be prescribed for things such as ADD and bipolar disorder. Steal your little brother's ADD medication. Dexedrine is gold when it comes to killing appetite. Just ignore the paranoia and nervousness that comes with it. Think about diet pills and supplements such as Metabolife and Ephedra.

Day to day

Now we move on to the ever important area of ritual and habits, tips & tricks, to get down to a science.

Graze constantly throughout the day so that your metabolism never gets the chance to rest and become sluggish. Eating 100 calories five times a day is better than eating one meal consisting of 500 calories.

Fool your metabolism by constantly changing the number of calories you consume daily. This will prevent your body going into starvation mode, meaning that lesser amounts of calories will make you gain weight. For instance, eat 500 calories on Monday, 100 on Tuesday, 800 on Wednesday, no calories on Thursday, and 400 calories on Friday.

Get a full night's sleep, at least eight hours. Although staying up late does make you burn more calories, don't become sleep-deprived or your metabolism will become sleepy. Your appetite will even increase by 15%.

Record everything you eat in your anorexia notebook. This serves to motivate you, as well as to be aware of all the extra calories you may not be aware you are consuming. It may also let you identify emotional or environmental triggers, such as boredom or sadness.

Take vitamin pills frequently so your body doesn't crave nutrients, causing binges.

Diet coke and other diet sodas cause that bubbly, full feeling in your stomach, for about 1 calorie per glass.

Brush your teeth and tongue all the time. The feeling in your mouth will ease cravings and additionally, food will taste yukky with toothpaste, so whats the point of eating it?

Drink water like a fish. Drink a glass of water, or a diet soda, every hour on the hour. Drink water every time you have the urge to snack. Ice water is better because your body will burn more calories to heat it up. Drink water with meals to prevent overeating. Bear in mind that often we mistake thirst for hunger.

Caffeine will speed up your metabolism. Have two or three servings a day, in the form of black sugarless coffee, or caffeine pills, or guarana. If stacked with ephedra and aspirin, a synergistic effect will occur that imitates the effects of speed or other amphetamines. Do be aware that this practice can be rather dangerous.

Exercise. Not only will you burn off the calories you consume when you do eat, but it will increase your metabolism for some time afterwards. As well, the consequential muscle mass will increase the calories you burn at rest. It also suppresses appetite. Try running, or buy yourself a skipping rope.

Stand up and move about constantly. Compulsively fidget. It does add up to an estimated extra 500 calories burned a day. Twitch your leg while studying, for example. Also, sit up straight - you'll burn more calories.

Have a very busy and active schedule. It will burn more calories than sitting in your room thinking about not eating, and make sure you don't have enough time to binge.

Find a something other than food to satisfy your oral fixation. Choices include things like smoking, chewing gum, water, iced tea, sugarless mints, and diet coke.

Put a small coin in a jar every time you resist a craving, or exercise when majorly exhausted, etc. This will motivate you, build up confidence in your starving abilities, and keep track of your successes. As well as give you extra cash to splurge on some fantastical treat when you reach your first major weight loss goal.

The type of music you listen to while you eat affects how much and how quickly you consume. The faster the music, the more you eat. Try to listen to nice slow music when you eat.

Eat sweets and the foods you crave early on in the day. This will give you more time to burn them off and it will eliminate cravings later.

Eat while in the front of the mirror naked. You will be completely repulsed, and repelled from the food. This is a good thing.

Feel your hunger..don't try to suppress it. If you're hungry that means you're losing weight; you WANT to be hungry. If you're not then you're not doing it right. In time you will get a wonderful high off of being hungry and thoroughly enjoy the sensation. Hunger is not your enemy! The sooner this is understood, the sooner you will reach your goals.

Did you know that there are 2 pounds of dead skin on you right now!!?! Thats right! 2 POUNDS! ...if you're underweight or in starvation mode your body does not "shed" its skin the way it should. It holds on to it. Use an exfoliator for your face, and a loofah brush or scrub for your body. Make a stack of magazines that weighs the amount you want to lose. As you lose, take off the appropriate amount of magazines. Seeing the weight like that may help you realise what a difference it will make when it is all off. When you're feeling weak Here are some things which will help when your willpower is very feeble, to ward off the urge to eat, or worse, binge!

Pinch your thigh and see how you don't need food, because you should be eating your own flesh all away from the inside first, before you are deserving of actual legitimate sustenance.

Go to the library. You can research dieting or whatever, or you can read the classics, or some of the aforementioned listerature. Or you can do homework, or write letters, but the beauty of it is, since no food or drink is allowed, you'll have no choice but to abstain from a meal.

Buy some baby teething gel and rub it on your tongue, to numb your tastebuds.

If you're even considering eating, just hold your breath and count to 100. Chances are that you'll convince youself not to eat whatever it is you're craving in that time.

The scent of coffee has been proven to lessen ones appetite.

Chew the food but don't swallow it. Spit it in the bin.

If you're feeling dangerous, plan out the next few hours so that you're occupied for every single minute. Write a list of things to do for every 15 minutes. eg. exercise, surf the internet, email your friends, clean a room, read a book.

If you're feeling brave enough to face the kitchen, go there and throw out any potential binge foods. If you must, pour bleach/disinfectant/dishwashing detergent on the food, and then throw it away! (Anorexics are known for retrieving food from bins, or stealing food from strange places).

Pinch your ear! Apply pressure to the front of the ear, one at a time. The front of the ear is apparently a pressure point, in the area that controls hunger.

Let perfume replace chocolate. Every time you have a craving, or pass a bakery, sniff some Chanel no. 5. Apply it to a tissue and carry it with you.

Smell has a powerful effect on appetite.

Clean something. Cleaning something dirty can make you lose your appetite. The toilet, the litter box, under the kitchen sink, scrubbing out the garbage bin, anything grimy or smelly. The mess, along with the smell of the cleaner, can put you off food for a while.

Become a teenage artist. Write anorexic poetry, tragic little verses about bones and stomachs and evil evil capsicums. Anorexics are ever so creative.

Collect pictures of skinny girls. Stick them all in your notebook. Draw pictures of painful bony girls with tear stained faces and their head in their hands (their spines sticking out). This will take up most of your time.

Hiding it

 Anorexia is supposed to be a private and tortured place, dontcha know. Deny it at all costs. Pretend you have not noticed the pounds dropping off you. Don't be suspicious. Here are some relevant tips:

Spend time making yourself look healthy.

Drink lots of water and apply a fake tan.

Wear makeup so that you have some colour, and keep your hair looking nice and shiny, take vitamins.

Smile. 

Whenever you do decide to eat, do it in the company of others.

That way they can't say they never see you touch food.

On your way out, heat up a slice of pizza or prepare a snack to 'eat on the run'.

Of course, you will dispose of the food at your first convenience.

Leave a dirty plate lying around every so often for your parents to yell at you about.

Drink out of opaque cups, and spit your food into it whilst preteding to drink. They'll never know.

Eat really slowly because if everybody else is on their third slice of pizza, they'll assume you are too, even if you're still finishing your first.

Sign out of Hotmail and clear the history before you get off of the Internet. This will eliminate autofill being ever so helpful while your mum is researching aardvarks, and coming up with www.anorexicsanonymous.com for her. In short, don't leave traces lying around for others to find.

I trust that this guide to becoming a better anorexic will serve you well on your quest to being emaciated and ahem, gorgeous.

Remember, think thin, and try not to faint too often or die.

[nocreativityfornames]

Everything we know about Diavolo so far, lore wise.

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ALL SEASONS

➤ He's the prince and future king of the Devildom, and the founder of RAD — the Royal Academy of Diavolo — taking the position of Student Council President. (swd: 1-1)

➤ He created the exchange program as a first step towards his goal of strengthening the relationships between the three realms and forming an allyship between angels, demons and humans. (swd: 1-1)

➤ He has the ability to discern the truth from the lie. (swd: 4-1)

➤ He was the one to step in and save MC from being attacked by Lucifer in the underground tomb. (swd: 6-6)

➤ He hasn't seen his father in several centuries now and only knows that the Demon King is somewhere in the bottom of the Devildom. (swd: 7-10)

➤ Unlike Lucifer, he saw MC's pacts with the brothers as a good thing from the very beginning. To him, MC's pacts were proof that demons and humans could put aside their differences and actually form bonds together. And that made him happy, considering it was all he wanted with the exchange program. (swd: 8-19)

➤ Before, citizens of the Devildom were allowed to travel to the Human World whenever they wished through passages spread through the kingdom, but Diavolo changed that after taking over the throne. Now, those passages are blocked and the only way demons can use them is by getting permission from Diavolo, Lucifer, or Barbatos - the only demons apart from his father who are allowed to use them freely. (swd: 11-4)

➤ When the eight siblings were cast down to the Devildom and Lilith was in the verge of death from the battle, Lucifer begged Diavolo to save her and he did, having her reborn in the Human World with no memories of her previous life. This came with a cost, however, said cost being Lucifer's loyalty to the prince for the rest of time. (swd: 14-10 and 15-7)

➤ He ordered Barbatos to imprison Belphegor in the castle for plotting treason and put Lucifer under house arrest for protecting the youngest by locking him attic and not telling Diavolo about his plans. (swd: 13-14)

➤ He knew about Belphegor's situation from the beginning, and told this to Lucifer when he arrived in the castle with the others asking for him to free him. "...Truth be told, I knew. I knew you were hiding Belphegor, and I knew why. Your loyalty to me forced you to deceive your brothers, and I knew that was a source of guilt. I saw how you struggled with it - how hard it was being pulled in two directions at once. And it made me sad." (swd: 15-12)

➤ He refused to free Belphegor at first, but eventually made a deal with MC: to release him from prison if they went back in time with the help of Barbatos' powers and found out who had freed him in the first place. (swd: 15-14)

➤ He had Barbatos trace down MC's bloodline and found out that they were a descendant of Lilith because of it. (swd: 16-15)

➤ On his birthday he decided to not only celebrate himself but also MC, to give them a "late welcome party" and show appreciation for them after everything that had happened. (swd: 18-A)

➤ He was suspicious of Solomon for suddenly showing up in the Devildom with MC unannounced (swd: 21-4) but arranged things so they would be able to stay for a while. (swd: 22-19)

➤ When Lucifer and his siblings fell Diavolo found them in the colosseum, and every now and then he finds himself going there and pondering over his past decisions and wondering if they were the correct ones after all. (swd: 24-13)

➤ He was the first Solomon talked to about his suspicions that MC was connected to the natural disasters happening in ancient locations around the realms, and for a while only the two of them and Barbatos knew about it (swd: 37-4), since Diavolo decided to keep it a secret from everyone else until he had proof of MC's powers being harmful to the realms (swd: hard mode, 32-16).

➤ He had MC undergo the standard magic exams that demons students are given at RAD, and although he initially told MC it was to help them learn more about the powers demons possess and how to control them (swd: 29-5), it was actually a test to see if their magic was as powerful as Solomon suspected. The sorcerer was proven right when MC passed each of them. (swd: 37-4)

➤ His secrecy and unusual reliance on Solomon caused a strain on his relationship with Lucifer, as the eldest knew that Diavolo was hiding something but refused to tell him. They eventually had a conversation in the colosseum after RAD's exams week ended, where Lucifer directly enquired him about what was happening. Diavolo refused to tell him, saying it wasn't "the right time" for him to know yet, and when Lucifer asked if whatever secret he was keeping involved MC the prince replied that he wasn't certain yet, further concerning him. (swd: 28-C)

➤ He's "not fond" of Simeon because he finds him difficult to deal with it and told this to the angel's face while speaking to him. When Simeon asked Diavolo why he found him difficult to deal with, he answered saying that it's because angels never divulge anything about themselves or the Celestial Realm but are constantly inserting themselves into Devildom business, and he's specially not fond of Simeon because he hides his true intentions better than any angel Diavolo has ever met. (swd: hard mode, 31-16 )

➤ He's so not fond of and unsure of how to deal with Simeon that when he finally decided to let him in on the secret and make him aware of MC's powers being a threat to the three realms he asked Solomon to break the news instead of doing it himself. (swd: 32-16)

➤ He eventually decided to tell Lucifer about MC’s situation and through text apologized to the Avatar of Pride for leaving him in the dark for so long and asked him to meet him so he could finally let him in on what was happening (swd: hard mode, 36-16). Unfortunately that meeting never happened, since Lucifer ended up affected by MC’s powers and lost his memories before Diavolo could explain anything to him. (swd chat: the fantastic three, untitled)

➤ Finally breaking the news to everyone, he and Solomon told the others everything, from the moment the sorcerer started growing suspicions about MC's powers to the moment that their powers struck Lucifer and he lost his memories. They also presented their only solution(s): to sever MC's pacts with the Night Dagger in order to break their magical connections to the brothers and make them an avarage human again. There was another solution: to stabilize MC's magic with the Ring of Light - the counterpart to the Ring of Wisdom that once belonged to Lucifer - but it was discarded right away as the ring had been lost in the Great Celestial War and no one knew its whereabouts. (swd: 37-9)

➤ Once everyone knew the whole story, he apologized to MC for not finding another way to prevent their magic from causing massive destruction to the realms, since he knew neither MC or the brothers wanted to sever their pacts with the each other. (swd: 37-9)

➤ When all things ended well and MC was able to get their powers under control without using the Night Dagger thanks to the Ring of Light that Simeon found just in time, Diavolo organized a party to honor MC and celebrate the victory. (swd: 39-1)

➤ He showed no surprise when MC expressed wanting to stay in the Devildom instead of going back to the Human World but still refused the request. (swd: 39-10) Later, with everyone, he explained why he didn't want MC to live in the Devildom permanently. “...All of you... I want you to listen carefully to what I'm about to say. I don't want MC to be a demon...or an angel, for that matter. No, I want MC to be a human. A human who understands us, and who works together with Solomon to shepherd the human world toward a better future… Someday I'd like MC to work alongside me to bring harmony to the three worlds. Which is precisely why I won't allow you to be stuck here in the Devildom, MC. I want you to learn more about the three worlds and to understand each of them better... The human world, the Devildom, and the Celestial Realm.” (swd: 40-22)

➤ He couldn't accompany the brothers on their vacation to the Human World at first because of work and told MC he often found it hard to get things done with everything being so quiet since the others weren't in the Devildom with him. (swd: 42-18)

➤ When tasked with the over the kingdom in his father's absence, the first thing Diavolo did was to start conciliating with Celestial Realm to end the conflict between the two realms. For this, he started having meetings with high-ranking angels to explain his plans and hopefully reach and an agreement of peace between the realms. That was how he met Lucifer in the first place, when the angel came down the Devildom to hear what he had to say. (swd: 44-12, 44-15 and swd card: Lucifer, Glory Days)

➤ He's a majority shareholder of the Three-Legged Crow Group otherwise called Yatagarasu, the largest company in the Devildom that's been expanding business in the Human World with their technology devices. (swd: 47-11)

➤ He “went missing” to purposely lead everyone to the karaoke place owned by Yatagaeasu where the brothers and MC had to play a game and get a perfect singing score in order to get out and would vanish from the room if they failed. His reason for this as he told MC later was because had been missing everyone ever since being left in the Devildom while the others were in the Human World, saying that being alone with no one but Barbatos by his side had made him remember how things used to be before the brothers started living in the Devildom and that had made him terribly lonely. In that same conversation, Diavolo also admitted that he felt jealous of the brothers for being able to spend so much time MC. (swd: 48-12 and 48-15)

➤ Later on during an outing with Lucifer after being confronted with the fact that the karaoke ordeal had been orchestrated by him, Diavolo explained his reasons this time to Lucifer and opened up about feeling jealous of MC as well. “I wonder, when was it, exactly? When did you and your brothers become so very important to me? I thought I'd never be able to become ‘one of you.’ It seemed ridiculous to even try, because it was just obvious that I couldn't. But then MC did just that... Effortlessly fitting in with the seven of you to become just another one of the gang. More than that, actually. MC is part of your family now. And when I saw that, it may have made me a little jealous. And while I haven't wanted to admit it to myself up to now...the truth is, I think I was lonely.” (swd: hard mode, 50-16)

➤ His mother died shortly after giving birth to him and he was raised by his father who was very strict and gave him a sheltered childhood, so much so he rarely ever left the castle. (swd: 56-18)

➤ He met Barbatos for the first time when he was still a child and the older demon was the first person he met from outside the castle. The older demon amazed him with stories of the outside world, and little Diavolo begged him to stay with him, getting to the point of threatening not to assume his position of king in the future if Barbatos left him. (swd: 56-18)

➤ When the brothers at the farewell party asked if they could make MC “officially part of the family” by marrying them, Diavolo explained that demons and humans aren't able to marry yet but that he'll do everything he can so one day that'll be possible. “MC, you aren't aware of this, but some bad blood still exists between our three worlds. No matter how much all of you may want this to happen, it's not something I have the power to do on my own. [...] However, my ultimate goal is to eliminate these barriers someday. And I will do everything in my power to make sure that happens.” (swd: 60-15)

➤ A while after MC left Diavolo sent them a magic letter and asked them to come to the Devildom for a third time because he had something important to discuss with them. (swd: 61-4) And that something turned out to be a request for MC to participate in the exchange program for a second time and an invitation for them to be a new member of the student council. (swd: 62-17)

➤ The intentions for this second try of the exchange program was mostly the same but now with a different approach, as Diavolo explained to everyone in the meeting then: “Our last exchange program was meant to provide an opportunity for cultural exchange among the inhabitants of all three worlds. But nothing more than that. Think of it as merely a starting point on the path to mutual understanding. But this time, the goal of the program is to make a stronger case for mutual understanding. Directed at everyone both inside and outside of the Devildom.” (swd: 62-17)

➤ He's known Mephistopheles ever since they were children. (nb: 13-11)

➤ Initially, his father was the main reason why he was determined to be a good king and why he even rescued the brothers in the first place. He craved the king's approval, wanted to live up to his name, show himself worthy of the throne, and eventually surpass him. He was forced to face this truth when he was younger during his last trial of the Kingsblood Crucible - a traditional ritual that demons of royalty have to go through before they take the throne. (nb: 14-7)

➤ After MC was officially appointed as the 9th member of the Student Council and the short-term exchange program ended, he gave them an “entry permit” so they could travel from the Human World to the Devildom whenever they wanted. (swd: 80-22)

[goobtopia]

need a rafe x fem plus size reader 🧎‍♀️ maybe a grumpy sunshine moment too where he’s mean to everyone except her 🫣

it’s a little blurb but i hope this is what you were asking for!!

!! 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!

warnings: allusions to sex (no actual smut), groping, kissing, domestic!rafe, swearing, sexual dialogue, f!reader

disclaimer: the original edit of this blurb contains poor choices that i made, that have now been edited due to a criticism i received in this ask, here, you can read the original line, the critique, and my response. one line i wrote originally, in particular, could possibly offend or hurt you so please consider this before reading as the goal of this disclaimer is transparency and accountability rather than to cause any further harm. thanks for reading and all criticism is welcome.

[requests are open]

☆ masterlist ☆

-

You and Rafe had begun to look like your very own Home Living magazine, you only moved in last year and since the dust had finally settled Rafe was letting you go wild with the interior design. You had to hire help for some things like the dining and the living room but almost everything else was by your own creation. You'd been having a lot of parties.

No kids yet and you were still fresh out of college so it was the perfect spot for all your friends from your undergrad program and Rafe's buddies to come let loose.

"Hey are you not feeling okay?" You whispered, sliding into the seat beside Rafe who had a scowl on his face and a warm beer. "No it's fine I just-" He cut himself off letting things go silent for a moment.

"Just what?" You questioned, hoping he wasn't starting to feel sick or anything. "You told me to chill out tonight but I can't help it, they're not using the coasters on your new coffee table and spilling champagne on the wood floors. These people are animals." You smiled, touching him on the shoulder.

"First of all, they're our friends and it's our coffee table." You reminded him, soothing the skin under his shirt by rubbing it as he takes a swig from the bottle. "You just put so much work into this baby, I hate to see them ruin it." He whispered sweetly, leaning his head on your shoulder allowing you to run you hands through his straight hair.

"Baby the wood's all sealed and I doubt a little bit of champagne is gonna make our floors buckle. Can you at least try to enjoy yourself?" You cozy up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he can't help but smile and give you a quick kiss. "Of course baby, consider it forgotten." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

"You smell nice baby, is that your perfume?" He takes a deep inhale as you twirl a piece of your hair, "New shampoo, it's strawberries." You were both in your own little world at this point when he landed another kiss on your awaiting lips. "Yummy." He mumbles, sliding his tongue into your mouth deepening the kiss as he travels lower, grabbing the side of your hip.

"Y'know what might really help me forget?" He asks, pulling away from you so suddenly it's like he's teasing you. Daring you to tell him no when you have him so desperate. "Oh, yeah?" You ask him to continue raising a brow in the process. He pulls you over his lap, standing from his spot on the couch with you in his arms.

"Getting to spend some time in this cute ass of yours." He says loud enough for only you to hear as he squeezes your thighs, making you bite your lip at him.

"But Rafe, the party!" You whine, holding on to his shoulders and looking around the room that was uninterested in your theatrics. "What party?" He groaned, leading you his favorite room in the new house, the bedroom. "If I don't have your tits in my mouth in the next 30 seconds l'm kicking everyone out."

[druvjelly]

Hello, I'm from Gaza City because of the war,my house was destroyed. We lost everything,my family and I did not have anything left. We left our homes in search of a safe place and we were displaced three  times to different places to survive, but unfortunately there's no safe place in Gaza. My mother is very sick and she's a kidney failure patient in need of treatment outside. She suffers from LS. Help me and my family to survive. Please, your small donation can make a huge difference. A friend outside Gaza has come in to help me run the donation program so that my mother can be evacuated

Ahem ahem!

It has come to my attention that this is a scam!

Op has taken a photo of actual Palestinian refugees and used them for their own personal gain!

Here is the actual g0f0undm3

[mint-yooxgi]

Until Your Lungs Give Out - Prologue

Yandere AU & Dystopian AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour, Sci-fi, Dystopian

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 1,331

Warnings: Minor violence mentioned. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I blame @anyamaris for feeding my ideas, and thus helping me create this. I plan for it to be almost a mix between Resident Evil dystopia (movies, specifically the third) and My Chemical Romance Danger Day's dystopia world. With robots! I really hope you all enjoy this little teaser hehehe As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist

The crackle of static sounds through your headpiece. The low hum of electricity surrounds you, what’s left of the city’s lights flickering above you as you race down the deserted streets. The heart of the city is a dangerous place, no matter how abandoned it might be. You’ll risk it any day of the week. 

You have to. There’s no other choice.

Long since has the world gone to shit. 

No, no major disease wiped out the planet. No virus that caused people to become the living dead, either. Humans are very much still alive, though their numbers dwindle every day, replaced by the Bots of Life, guaranteeing that people can never truly die. 

These androids are so lifelike, that you cannot easily tell the difference between them and humans unless you are looking for them. Emotions, memories, habits - they are all the same. 

Life Bots, another term for these machines, require a human host. Millions of underground facilities have been made to house the Sacrifices - unlawfully named, in your opinion - for the Bots of Life to thrive. All that’s needed is a specialized pod and a mind link, and humans never have to age again. They can live vicariously through their android counterparts, forever.

Great sale’s pitch! If humans actually got a choice in the matter… 

What’s left of humanity fight to survive, living in hidden suburbs and scraping to get by every day. Every Life Bot is programmed to deliver humans to their intended Sacrificial Pod, destroying what’s left of the living world.

No more hunger. No more strife, chaos, or pain. Only order, and peace.

All things which are easier said than done.

An interesting side effect early Life Bot integrators noticed was how suddenly, members of their family which had undergone the Sacrifice seemed to lose all previous autonomy. The Creator made sure to emphasize his ideals into the Bots of Life, nearly forcing every human associated with one to make the change. He wanted total control over every living human, holding their lives in the palms of his hand for his own gains.

Naturally, the humans rebelled.

War broke out, and now all that remains of the earth above sea level are wastelands. Deserts span more areas than they used to, cracked, dry earth giving way to dead zones not even the Life Bots dare to traverse.

Still, there are those unlucky enough to be forced to live above ground without any protection, unable to have afforded to buy their way into the luxurious underwater cities or air fortresses that had been massed produced for the majority of the upper class and wealthy in society. Those left behind are stranded, lest they be forced to become a Life Bot of their own.

That’s where you come in.

You are one of the last few survivors in this division who still remains on earth, fighting for the human’s survival. Looking out for the stranded is what you do best, and you’ve made taking down Life Bots look like it’s child’s play. Which is exactly why you’re racing to answer the distress call you’ve just received not even a mere five minutes ago. There seems to be one human in particular that keeps sticking his nose into trouble looking for spare parts and supplies. It’s starting to get on your nerves, for he also seems insistent to flirt with you every chance he gets.

Only this time, he’s not alone.

When you originally latched onto the signal, you heard at least three distinct voices calling for help. The noises in the background indicated a fight, so there had to at least have been two more people with them, holding off the Life Bots at the time. You just hope you make it before someone gets hurt. Or worse.

Revving the engine to your motorcycle, you pick up your speed. The distress call came from just around the corner two more blocks up, and from the littered corpses of Life Bots you can see lining the street, you know a fight has just taken place here not that long ago.

Rounding the corner, you skid to a halt.

The screeching of your tires on the asphalt draws the attention of the small group of about eight males that seems to be surrounded on all sides by a small hoard of twenty Life Bots. A few hold makeshift weapons, like broken pipes and a rusted crowbar, while two hold Laftas, specialized stun guns made for subduing the Bots of Life. One practically cowers on the ground amidst the circle of survivors, covering their ears and shaking uncontrollably as his friends surround him as best they can.

The moment you hop off of your bike, you notice a familiar male’s eyes light up, hope dancing on his features. A smile begins to stretch across his features.

A click of your helmet, and it retracts from your face, practically disappearing from sight.

“I told you she would come!” Wooyoung, your resident damsel in distress, and certified pain in your ass, cheers.

“Yeah, yeah,” the tall one with what appears to be a sniper riffle strapped to his back, rolls his eyes. “If we manage to get out of this alive, remind me to give you one of my chocolate bars from my hidden stash.”

The way Wooyoung’s eyes light up even further says it all.

“Can’t go one day without getting yourself into trouble, huh, Gopher?” There’s an almost teasing lilt to your voice despite the disappointed sigh you heave as you spring into action.

Drawing your katana from your back, you unholster your Lafta.

“Guilty.” He chuckles, shrugging lightly.

You get to work, slicing through the Bots of Life as if they were made of silk rather than metal. With your opposite hand, you manage to shoot every target you set your eyes upon, cleaning up this mess in no time. Once finished, you make a show of twirling your sword a few times before sheathing it, shoving your gun back into its holster with a firm thwack.

“There,” you send a firm nod in their direction. “Get yourselves someplace safe before more of them return. I don’t like making multiple pitstops for the same people in the same night.”

You turn around, moving back over towards your bike before a voice calling out to you from behind halts you in your tracks.

“Wait!” 

You spare the unfamiliar male a glance over your shoulder. He seems to have somewhat shaggy black hair, a black and red leather jacket covering his torso. A red birthmark rests beside his left eye.

“How can we ever repay you?”

You offer him a tight smile in return, noticing how more than just Wooyoung seems to be staring at you with wide eyes filled with awe.

“Keep yourselves out of trouble, and you won’t have to.”

The one crouched on the ground finally stands back to his feet. He rests a trembling hand on the shoulder of the male closest to him, who is also wearing a black and red leather jacket, but in a slightly different style.

“Really,” his voice comes out shaky, staring at you through thinly wired glasses. A tattered beige cardigan rests over his shoulders, a stark head of bright blue hair falling over his forehead and almost covering his eyes. “We should be able to do something.”

You huff slightly to yourself in amusement, finally crossing the last few steps to your motorcycle.

“Don’t worry about it.”

With a smooth movement, your leg is tossed over the seat, the engine revving to life. A click to your ear, and your helmet has rematerialized.

A final nod is sent their way before you’re racing back down the street, on the hunt for any more distress calls that might come your way for the night.

That is the last they see of you for two weeks, until your entire worlds come crashing down.

[dumbdomb]

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allowing me to stay over in your guest room which has, unbeknownst to me, been created into a fully inescapable- yet seemingly safe and normal bedroom. it's true purpose has always been to be the dungeon you'd keep me in so you could prove your loyal devotion to me.

the first night you focus on making sure i'm comfortable and at ease. hidden cameras detail my sleeping schedule and you're prepared for the next phase. we spend some time together during the second day, but mostly you're preparing for something special that evening... at night, once i've fallen asleep, you begin.

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dimly lit monitors power on to display obscenely pornographic content, hidden speakers play binaural and hypnotic audio, and soon i am surrounded by a barrage of subliminal ideas designed to coerce me into becoming more deviant. the moment i stir awake, everything is shut off automatically. i've no idea what is going on, but my head feels fuzzy.

during the day, i seem a bit out of it, but otherwise don't notice anything unusual. like a vacation, i finally begin to relax after a few days. on the fifth night, you continue this nightly programming and increase the volume and lighting just so. when i wake, i catch a glimpse of my surroundings that immediately fall silent and i question whether i saw anything.

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in the morning i notice some of the clothes i don't wear often have been replaced with similar, yet more revealing styles. i angrily question you about going through my belongings and you act so unaware, surprised, and frightened that someone may have broken into your house that i actually believe you. i help you get new locks and install security cameras to watch over all entrances and windows. i ask you to stay in the room with me that night, and you make a bed on the floor next to mine. nothing more happens, a few uneventful days pass...

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i suggest you move back to your own room, feeling silly for being scared, you only continue to build my trust in you by comforting me and making me feel safe. everything will change soon enough, bc while i visit a friend during the day, your plans to move into the third phase begin.

all my clothes are replaced with very revealing styles, except for my usual pajamas that i lay out each day. i don't see you when i get back, but figure you're out or taking a nap. i don't know you've changed anything yet, keeping to my new routines in your home. by the time we usually have dinner together, you join me a bit later than usual. and when i retire to bed, it's all so mundane.

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while i sleep, you turn on the programs. they increase as i squirm in bed, getting louder and more visible. this time, when i wake up, everything stays on as i look around startled and confused. i try to use the remote to turn off the tv, but nothing i do works. i decide to leave the room, scared to stay inside with all the overwhelming perversion around me. when i try to open the door, it's locked. the windows appear to be locked from the outside... i yell out for help, not wanting to believe the situation i'm in, and the obscene volume increases. the more i yell, the louder it gets, until my screams are nearly indistinguishable from the loud moans and cries of pain and pleasure. i go back to bed and cover my head, trying to make it all stop and i somehow manage to fall asleep again.

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in the morning, i wake up like normal. as if it were all just a horribly bad dream. i go take a shower and when i look for something to wear, all my clothes are gone. i'm in a towel, my used pajamas already added to the laundry bin in the other room, and all the clothes i have to wear are not mine. i go to leave the room and the door is locked, just like in my dream. i hear you yell out that breakfast will be ready soon, and i should hurry up so it doesn't get cold. how can you be so normal when something strange is going on here? i find the most "comfortable" outfit i can to make do, and after getting dressed the door is unlocked, like i was never locked in to begin with... i felt so confused and wanted to tell you, but i also felt overcome with shame. was it just my mind playing tricks on me?!? ♡

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[endless-summer-soldier]

dr. feelgood - chapter nine

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

warnings: must be 18+, drinking, some surgery descriptions, smut, self-pleasure, praise kink, oral sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, PTSD, choking

word count: 2.8k

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taglist: @tellmealovestory @mrs-bucky-barnes106 @charmedbysarge @theroyalmanatee @ozwriterchick @aya-fay @differenttyphoonwerewolf @sebsgirl71479 @notmeddy @drewsuncrustables @lokidokieokie @hextech-bros @nats-whore @m4nulup1n @arcanebabe @tanyaspartak @jackiehollanderr @princezzjasmine @pono-pura-vida @mavrellover91 @helluvapimp @almosttoopizza @esposadomd @zannemes​​

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After checking on my patients and changing out of my scrubs, I walked into the parking lot to find Bucky leaning against the side of a shiny black jeep.

“There she is!” he announced, straightening his posture to greet me. “I was starting to wonder if you were standing me up.”

“I would never,” I feigned offense.

“I have a hard time believing that.”

I considered my dating history, “Sure, I’ve ghosted guys before. But I’ve never actually stood someone up. That’s just cruel.”

“Fair enough, but don’t even think about ghosting me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I winked at him. He opened the passenger side door for me, like a true gentleman, and I climbed into the car. 

The drive to his place was short and we made easy small talk on the way. I was expecting to feel nervous in the lead up to our arrival at his place, but I wasn’t. He pulled into the driveway of a brick row home, with navy shutters and white accents along the windows. I let myself out of the car before he could open the door for me and he led me up the couple stairs to the front door. There was a welcome mat on the front porch that read The Neighbors Have Better Stuff and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Is this your version of home security?” I asked, pointing to the mat with my toe.

He chuckled, “My sister got that for me when I bought the house. And I have to say no burglaries yet so it must be working.”

When he opened the front door, I was surprised to find that his house felt very homely. I was expecting a bachelor pad, with hard edges and several shades of grey. Instead, I was met with neutral colors, tasteful art, and warm lighting. Bucky placed his keys on a hook by the front door and told me to make myself at home. I shrugged my jacket off and before I could find a spot for it, Bucky took it from my hands and put it on a hanger in the hall closet. I slid off my ankle boots and found a seat on the very comfortable sectional, as Bucky flipped a switch that started a flame in the fireplace. 

“Here’s the remote, you can find something to put on the TV while I grab us a few drinks.”

I clicked on the TV and was met with a wide selection of programs. “You have all the streaming services…” I spoke in disbelief.

“And cable,” he added.

“Sheesh, living the dream over here.”

“You know what’s embarrassing about that? I almost never watch TV,” he admitted.

I gaped at him, thinking about the intricate network of log-ins I’d collected and bartered for over the years.

He sat next to me on the couch with a decanter of red wine and two crystal glasses.

“Let me guess, this is a vintage sangiovese from a little village in the south of Italy?”

He poured a sample into a glass and handed it for me to try before adding, “Don’t give me too much credit, it’s a midrange bottle. A Spanish tempranillo.”

“Mmm,” I replied, before imitating a sommelier, swirling the wine around before taking a big whiff. I took a sip and contemplated before making my assessment, “I’m getting strong notes of grape.”

Bucky let out a chuckle before topping off my glass and filling his own. He leaned deeper into the couch and I did the same, keeping about a foot of distance between us.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to impress me, Barnes,” I declared.

He shrugged, “Is it working?”

“Maybe a little.”

He pulled his phone out and tapped a few buttons, before smooth jazz started playing over the speaker system in the house.

“How about now?” 

“Why have we been spending all this time at my place when you live in this literal smart home?” 

“I had to make sure you weren’t after me for my money,” he joked.

“Oh, is that not clear? I’m definitely only interested in you as a sugar daddy.” He gave me a look and I was pleased to have grated on his nerves just a bit. “But seriously, your house is incredible.”

“You haven’t even seen the whole thing.”

“Are you going to give me the tour?” I smiled.

He nodded, “I can give you a tour.” He stood up and held his hand out for me. We started on our current floor, where he showed me his incredibly clean kitchen and back deck, overlooking the water. Then he took me into the basement, where he had a room that could only be described as a mancave, with a big screen TV, comfortable seating, and a small stocked bar. There was also a small room in the back that had a home gym, full of free weights, a treadmill, and a Peloton. 

Next we headed toward the second floor, which contained the laundry room, home office, and the master bedroom. We paused when we reached the master bedroom, as I entered the room and decided to look around.

“Does this meet your standards?” he joked. I smiled at him as I walked around the bed and peeked into the bathroom. It was immaculate. Perfectly clean and tidy, well decorated, and aesthetically pleasing. I was impressed.

“Are you always this clean?” I asked, still in disbelief.

“Ever since the military. They ingrained cleanliness into me, despite my protests.”

“Remind me to thank them. Most guys I know live in their own filth.”

“Well I’m not most guys,” he said, stepping a foot closer to me. “You want to know the best part about this room?”

“Does music magically play in here too?” I asked.

“It does, but that’s not the best part.” I tilted my head, waiting for him to explain further. He didn’t speak more, but ushered me to come to him. I complied, standing about a foot in front of him, dying in anticipation. He placed both hands on my shoulders and gently guided me backwards, until the back of my legs hit the mattress. Then he pushed me down so my knees buckled and I was sitting on the bed. As I sunk into the soft mattress, I felt like I was sitting on a cloud. I instinctively leaned back so that my torso was on the bed and let out an unconscious sigh.

“This is amazing.”

I heard Bucky chuckle as he watched me, “After I got back from my deployment, all I wanted was a soft bed. I didn’t want any reminders of lumpy cots or sleeping in the desert.”

“I don’t think I can go back to my bed after feeling this one.”

“Well it’s a good thing you don’t have to,” Bucky flirted. He slowly crawled on top of me and my hands instinctively found their way around him. I gently scratched the hair at the back of his neck and studied his face, trying to read his expression. His pupils were wide and were focused on my eyes, flashing briefly to look at my lips. I could sense his heart beating out of his chest, matching my rhythm, and he let out a deep exhale that barely reached my mouth. We were in a stare off, taking each other in and waiting on edge to see who would make the first move. The edges of his mouth slowly turned upward into an amused grin and that was it for me. I pulled him towards me, desperate to feel the caress of his soft lips. His touch did not disappoint. As soon as we connected, I probed my tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss. He placed his strong hand on my jaw and entwined his fingers into my hair.

We moved together slowly, savoring the moment instead of rushing to the finish line. Bucky had moved from my lips to my neck, planting wet kisses down to my collar bone, where he lingered, doing things that would surely leave a mark. I ran my hands up the back of his shirt, needing more skin to skin contact. I scratched small circles around his back before I whispered, “Can I take this off?”

He pulled away to catch his breath and grabbed the collar of his shirt from the back and easily pulled it over his head.

“Your turn,” he said smugly. I rose to his challenge, propping myself on my elbows to pull off my top. While I wish I’d been wearing some lacy lingerie, I was clad in a ribbed bralette in heather grey. 

“I’m sorry I’m not in lingerie, but I didn’t expect-”

He cut off my defense with a kiss, massaging my lips with his and sending his tongue in to explore my mouth.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he breathed in between kisses. “Don’t ever apologize for how you look.”

That statement turned me on even more, if that was possible. I pushed him off of me and directed him to lay next to me on the bed. I unzipped my jeans and shimmied out of them, then climbed on top of Bucky so I was straddling him.

“Please don’t make me wait any longer,” he begged. I wanted to tease him more but I wasn’t sure I could hold it together much longer either. I hovered over him, planting a few kisses on his lips before making my way down his body to his pelvis. I playfully nipped at his hip bones before unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down his muscular legs. I could see his erection through his boxer briefs and wasted no time massaging his bulge.

His head dipped back into the mattress in pleasure, and I had barely even started. I pulled down the waistband of his boxers, freeing his erection from its confinement. I gripped him firmly, sliding up past the tip and back down in a fluid motion. Bucky let out a contented sigh, giving me the confidence I needed to continue. I leaned forward to take his shaft in my mouth, bobbing my head up and down as I massaged his member with my tongue. He reached down and tangled his hand in my hair, gently massaging my scalp.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he breathed. I continued blowing him, paying special attention to the tip and fondling his balls. I heard him grunt and tasted the slightly salty taste of his semen. I eased working his shaft with my mouth, opting to clasp him with my hand, as I swallowed down his load. He guided my head up off of his penis and pulled me up towards him, squeezing me into a tight bearhug.

“You are amazing,” he gushed, kissing my cheek and neck repeatedly. I wiggled out of his tight grasp to reposition myself so that I could see him better. I placed a hand on his jaw and pulled him toward me, kissing him with vigor yet again. He placed a hand on my hip, gently running his thumb over my pelvic bone. He pulled away sooner than I wanted, and I tried to pull him back to me. He recognized the look in my eyes, and gave me a soft smile as he brushed a few loose strands of hair behind my ears. 

“Don’t worry, love. I’ll make it up to you.” He gently laid me down on the mattress as he shifted his weight on top of me. He started with my lips, exploring my mouth with a slow, lingering kiss. Then he peppered kisses along my jaw, up to my ear. He tugged my earlobe with his teeth and then planted soft kisses behind my ear. He moved down my neck, applying pressure with his tongue. As he continued south, briefly teething on my clavicle before journeying down to my sternum. He slid his hands up my sides and under my bralette. He looked up at me and raised an eyebrow, as if asking for my permission to proceed. I gave him a quick nod and he peeled the bralette up, freeing my breasts. I pulled the bralette over my head and shivered slightly at the cold air caressing my nipples. Bucky picked up on my momentary discomfort and acted quickly, bringing his mouth to my left nipple as his hand massaged my right breast. I let out an unconscious moan and noticed a smirk on Bucky’s lips before he switched sides to the other breast. Things started to get fuzzy as I was entering a natural high.

Bucky moved down lower, teasing my abdomen, pelvis, and inner thighs along the way. He pulled my thong off slowly, teasing me, but then his tongue found my clitoris and I was sent into orbit. He managed to circulate the use of his fingers, lips, and tongue to all my sensitive areas. My fingers were digging into the bed sheets, looking for something to grasp as I teetered on the edge of my orgasm.

Bucky took me by surprise when he inserted a second finger and I let out a heavy breath. I shifted my gaze down toward Bucky and was met with his ocean blue eyes looking up at me. I could’ve sworn he was smiling too, even though his mouth was focused on pleasuring me. And that was all it took. I succumbed to my orgasm, shuddering and releasing all the tension in my body as Bucky lapped up my juices, savoring every drop. I felt light headed from the intense orgasm that came quickly. I’d never finished like that from oral stimulation alone. I blinked rapidly up at the ceiling, trying to refocus my eyes and sighed, “Oh Buck.”

I felt his weight shift up as he crawled up beside me, “How was that, my little sex goddess?”

I turned toward him and couldn’t hide the smile from my face. He knew exactly what he was doing to me. I nuzzled into him and said, “I don’t ever want to leave this bed.”

“Me neither.”

I was startled awake by my own gasping. My eyes bugged and I struggled to breathe as the pressure increased to my throat. Bucky was on top of me, his legs straddling my waist, but not in a fun way. He had me pinned down to the mattress and his forearm was pressed into my windpipe. His eyes were glazed over, almost like he was possessed.

I tried to call his name but it came out as more of a gasp. Then I made the mistake of trying to push him off me. I should’ve realized fighting back would just make him push harder, but I wasn’t thinking, I was reacting. 

His hands were now enclosed around my neck as he started to squeeze harder. My first instinct was to panic, but I knew that wouldn’t help break him from his trauma-induced haze. If I could just talk to him, maybe it would wake him up. Maybe my voice could break into the nightmare he was having, even just to serve as a distraction. I tried to speak again, but all that came out was a squeak.

I needed to pull him back to reality, so I tried something unexpected. If he thought I was a dangerous enemy, the last thing he would expect would be affection. I gently placed my hands on his jaw. His expression shifted slightly and his grip on my neck loosened a bit. I took the opening and carefully pulled his face closer to mine, rubbing little circles behind his earlobes with my finger tips. As his face drew nearer, his forehead and nose connected with mine and his hands released my neck. I barely brushed my lips against his mouth and felt all the tension in his body melt away. I took in a few deep breaths, relieved to have de-escalated the situation. Bucky rolled back to his side of the bed, but curled into me. I directed his head to my chest and ran my fingers through his hair, giving him a scalp massage. He fell back asleep with ease, his breaths and body weighing heavy on me.

Despite the soothing sounds of his breathing, I was wide awake. Adrenaline was still coursing through my veins from the attempted strangulation. The strangest thing was, I wasn’t upset with Bucky. That wasn’t the Bucky I knew, it was just a PTSD flare up. I should’ve been scared of him, of another attack. Yet, I couldn’t imagine leaving him. He talked a little about his time in the military but he never got into any of the specifics. PTSD never even crossed my mind, Bucky always seemed so put together. And now that I saw the darker side of him, all I wanted was to help him and protect him from his haunting thoughts.

[welldonebeca]

Android Hero (3)

Summary: Worried about your well-being, your sister convinces you to accept the robot your company has been given. Steven cooks, cleans and takes care of everything you might need in your house. When you jokingly suggest that he start making the decisions on your life, your relationship changes to something very different. His program really is irrelevant. aka.: Obsessed robot boyfriend Steve. WC: 1.3k words Warnings: Future AU. Tension. Robot Steve. Smut.  Masturbation. Sex toys. Vaginal fingering. Degrading kink.

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You sighed, staring at the door. Steve was always too conventionally on time.

"I'm on my way," you told him.

You searched around your clothes, finding a silk robe folded in your drawer, and put it on, covering your half-naked body.

Hopefully, dinner and charging would be equally quick, and you'd be able to get yourself off.

When you opened the door, Steve was waiting right there for you.

"Did you finish what you were doing?" he asked, almost in a teasing tone.

You glared at him. Did he...

No.

He was just a robot.

"I'll serve your food," he affirmed. "I suspect you'll want some wine?"

Wine usually made you horny.

Was he trying to send you a message?

But it was a good idea.

"Yes, please," you confirmed.

When you both walked down, he didn't direct you to the dining room, but to your living room, waiting on the coffee table in front of the TV.

"You should relax a little," he told you. "Watch your favourite show. Can I offer you a massage?"

You chuckled.

"Steve, you are really spoiling me," you chuckled.

He smiled.

"You are easy to spoil, miss Maximoff," he said simply.

You took your plate, placed your feet on the table, and Steve quickly sat in front of you, taking your foot and starting to massage it.

Maybe you shivered.

You hadn't realised how touch-starved you were until he actually touched you.

You took the glass he had poured you and let yourself relax as the fantasy show played on the TV, distracted until he spoke up.

"I must say," he ran his thumbs over the soft bit of your foot. "I was a little nervous when I was assigned to you."

You looked at him, surprised.

"Really?" you asked.

He confirmed with a nod.

"Humans need a lot of attention and care, I realise," he explained.

You chuckled.

"You talk as if we are pets," you pointed out. "Is that how you see us?"

Steve looked at you.

He didn't answer, though, only moving up your leg.

"How was work?" he asked, instead. "Did they like your dress?"

You felt yourself flushing a bit, flustered.

"I... uh..." you cleared your throat. "Got some attention. Compliments."

"Really?" he looked at you, interested. "What did they say? That you looked pretty? Radiant?"

You blinked surprised.

"Radiant," you agreed. "Exactly."

He smiled a little.

"This is your best colour," he affirmed simply. "It's supposed to make you look radiant."

You looked at him, and while you didn't want to talk about the sales guy, you felt like you should.

You would tell him anything he asked you.

"There was a guy in sales who said something more," you confessed, at last. "He didn't disrespect me, of course, just..."

Steve waited and you flushed a little.

"He didn't say anything extra," you explained. "Just that I looked beautiful and happy. And that I should do it more."

He listened to you attentively, and you sighed.

"And he looked at me... differently."

Like he wanted to fuck you.

"How?" he asked.

You processed your lips together.

"Like he wanted to... uh..."

Steve raised his eyebrows waiting.

"Fuck me," you whispered, not wanting to say it aloud.

"Oh?" he massaged your calf. "That must have felt good for you."

Your cheeks burned.

"I don't think you've been fucked in a while, have you?" he asked.

You gasped.

"Steve!"

Why was he even asking you that?

"I have access to your period tracker," he told you. "And you have logged every instance of sexual intercourse in it, if I recall correctly, it was-"

"I know how many times I've had intercourse," you interrupted him. "There's no need to mention it."

He gave you a soft look.

"I only have your best interest at heart," he affirmed. "Some humans require sexual stimulation for relief and happiness."

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment.

"Is that what you want from that man?" he asked, massaging your thigh. "For him to fill your sexual needs?"

You whimpered.

Why did he have to sound so sexy while saying that?

"I mean," you squirmed a little. "It doesn't have to be him."

You sipped your wine to stop yourself from saying more as your mind ran beyond your mouth.

"So you would just let any man have you?" he pushed his hand between your legs, almost touching your cunt now. "Such a slut."

You gasped and jumped when he traced a finger over your folds.

That wasn't his program! The Androids weren't programmed for vulgarity!

"Steve, I-"

"It's what you are, though," he hummed, tapping your sensitive centre. "Logically speaking."

Steve parted your folds and you could only pant. What was he doing?

"Slut," he continued. "Definition from Oxford Languages. A woman who has many casual sexual partners."

You whined - why did he sound so hot?

Steve massaged the outside of your cunt up and down, soft and almost unintending.

Did he know what he was doing?

"Steve, that's not my leg anymore," you panted.

"It isn't?" he asked, clearly teasing you, and tapped your clit, making you squirm.

"What are you doing?" you whined.

He wasn't a sex bot!

"I took the liberty of upgrading myself," he hummed. "To provide you with some more care."

You stared down at him, confused, and gasped when he stopped tapping and started circling your clit.

"I am, after all, tasked with fulfilling your every need," he continued. "And you told me to take control."

"Steve," you panted, squirming. "I don't know. I don't think we-"

"You don't think, miss," he corrected you. "This isn't your work. I'm the one who commands this house, and I command you. And I think you need special care to make you better."

You moaned, speechless.

Steve stood up, watching over you for a moment and reaching for you, untying your robe.

"You're so beautiful," he hummed, pushing it off your shoulders. "So hot... I've been watching you for quite some time, you know?"

You swallowed down.

"Have you?"

He hummed, fingers going down to your chest, and he toyed with the fabric.

"And you have no shame, do you?" he asked. "Always naked around me. Always showing off."

You shuddered.

"I didn't know you cared," you tried to argue.

His lips curled in a little smirk, and he moved his gaze to your eyes.

"I don't," he agreed. "But you make me care."

His fingers held the little bra, and you inhaled deeply, surprised when he tore it.

"Steve!"

"I bought better ones," he assured you. "Don't worry."

Steve picked you up, sitting on the place you had been sitting and putting you on his lap with your back to his chest, and you gasped when he used his legs to spread yours, pushing a finger into your cunt.

"Steve," you squirmed, shocked, but he just held you close.

"Be a good slut for me, miss," he whispered into your ear.

You whined.

Where had he learned to talk like this?

"It's what you like, isn't it?" he fucked your cunt slowly. "I read the little stories you have bookmarked on your phone."

Your face burned in embarrassment. He had read your porn?!

"Why?" you moaned, feeling him push a second finger into you.

"Because I want you to improve, miss," he answered simply. "And I think I have a good motivation for you."

You gasped when he moved his other hand down, rubbing your clit.

"You humans are so easy to work on," he cooed. "All you need is some good leading."

The moan that left your lips when he curled his fingers inside you was embarrassing.

"I knew those toys weren't enough to make you cum, miss," he cooed softly. "It's good that I'm here, uh?"

You whimpered, squirming.

"Steve," you arched your hips. "I'm so close."

He kissed your shoulder.

"Cum around my fingers, miss," he purred, moving quicker, and his finger vibrated on your clit.

You cried out, shaking on top of him as you reached your orgasm, and Steve only pulled away when you started pushing his hands away.

"Good girl," he kissed your shoulder. "Aren't you happy you wore that dress today?"

You panted.

This was just for wearing the dress?!

. . . .

"Android Hero" was posted on my Patreon in January. To read it now, subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month and I post everything there earlier!

. . .

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[like-a-school-gymnasium]

Hello, I'm from Gaza City because of the war,my house was destroyed. We lost everything,my family and I did not have anything left. We left our homes in search of a safe place and we were displaced three  times to different places to survive, but unfortunately there's no safe place in Gaza. My mother is very sick and she's a kidney failure patient in need of treatment outside. She suffers from LS. Help me and my family to survive. Please, your small donation can make a huge difference. A friend outside Gaza has come in to help me run the donation program so that my mother can be evacuated

here's the actual gofundme you're stealing from. fuck off, rot in hell - theres a special fucking place there for assholes like you who use a fucking genocide as something to profit off of

[stvrlight-nyx]

My interpretation of Murder Drones episode 7(a lot about N and Uzi) EPISODE 7 SPOILERS‼️‼️

N is the most caring drone ever, he cares so much about V (friendship) that first thing he can think about is trying to move the rocks to get back to her. After all the shit she put him through, he still thinks of her as one of his closest friends besides his old crush on her. HES JUST SUCH AN ANGEL OMG.

N’s direct-ness towards Tessa is very interesting, because you can see his character wants to really help “Tessa” (who we now know was never actually Tessa), but obviously cares and loves Uzi a lot whether that be platonic or romantic. He clearly emphasises his point by putting a full stop at the end, making it clear to Tessa that he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to Uzi. Taking it back to my point about N having to choose between Tessa and his family from back in Manor House, or Uzi this “little bot” that in my opinion he’s poured his heart out to (coming from a Nuzi shipper and no it’s not pro ship). Well we now know that after the whole absolute solver using Cyn as a host and Tessa as a skin suit that he is 100% on Uzi’s side.

YOU ARE TELLING ME THIS MAN DIDN’T KNOW IF HE WAS GONNA LIVE OR NOT AND THE FIRST PERSON HE CALLED OUT TO WAS UZI LIKE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Anyway yea so uh, you can see here that N’s first thought and in past episodes too, his first thought is Uzi. Clearly showing he cares for her and loves her a lot. Usually you brain or in their case their programming should probably make you think about yourself but, he often thinks about Uzi first and then himself like N just confess istg.

I don’t really wanna go through it now maybe in another post but it has to be here so…

J oh deary me J. J is the kinda of character who clearly has always been jealous of N, and how fond Tessa was of him compared to her. Obviously, because you can clearly even as the audience see that Tessa doesn’t really care too much about J, she clearly has to receive the approval from someone else. And that’s where the company comes in, in my opinion I think the company is just feeding her ego so she begins to do more for them. The company had control over V and N previously but because of their exploration and independence they now know the truth but, because of J’s hunger for approval she is turning a blind eye towards her curiosity.

The idea that this isn’t even “The real Tessa” is wild to me, you’re telling me the solver literally an eldritch entity can adapt to humane environments, features, and characteristics that easily. If I were Uzi I’d be wetting myself right now. For me what I would really like to see is the solver disinfecting everyone(or like collecting itself) and somehow disconnecting itself from Cyn and Tessa cus I don’t think it will be able to operate without a host and skinsuit.

DOLL A LITRAL ICON AND GIRLBOSS. Her ideas of the absolute solver while also trying to use it to her advantage is really interesting, it’s crazy that she knew everything but didn’t tell Uzi. Some may argue with me and say ‘oh but doll did it to avoid Uzi ratting her out’ which is correct but, do you think it would alter the storyline if she did? I think it would. Some more question I would’ve asked doll are things like

Do you expect to defeat the solver alone? After defeating the solver what are your theories for a cure? And why do you look good doing everything?(shes so cool)

I am not really talking heavily about Nori right now cuz she deserves her own post but, the notes behind her are really cool to me. Like did she know about the absolute solver and the involvement with the disassembly drones and JcJ? But that’s kinda it

AGAIN N THINKING ABOUT UZI BEFORE HIMSELF AND OTHERS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Apparently can only add ten images so I’ll do a part 2

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