#and i’m evidently still sensitive to being treated that way because i am VERY hurt rn lol

[birdpal]

wow this is nostalgic haha

[klttn]

sensitive bunny!reader x valentino where he needs to learn to be softer with the little bunny <3

- 🧸🫧

𐙚 ⋆˚ 𝓉𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝓂𝑒 ⋆ ｡ ྀི

— 𝜗𝜚 valentino x f!reader

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 summary : val gets shouted at by his sensitive little bunny and asks her to teach him how to be gentle. nsfw. degrading. name calling. crying. dacryhilia. val is manipulative. bunny!reader. this is extremely toxic.

valentino thought he was the perfect boyfriend. the boyfriend of you’re dreams. how could he not be? he was rich, powerful and oh so very — sexually —experienced. and fuck did you love that. but he made you cry more than he gave you butterflies and he slapped you more than he touched you softly. yes that part was enticing, especially to your cunt. but you also just craved him treating you like the little baby conejita he told you were, his soft bunny to hold and take care of. hell, you wouldn’t care if he abused you as long as he babied you. you couldn’t stand being called his slut when you knew that’s all he told everyone at work. you didn’t want be just another one of his whores. a bitch to breed and discard.

part of you wondered if he even knew how cruel he was to you. if he knew that you cried over him so often, never pleasure filled or love intoxicated.

he didn’t.

he treat you like this because that’s all he knew. was it right? no. but it pained your heart either way that he genuinely thought he was treating you right. and it did his too when you broke down at feet, kneeling, broken sobs begging him to just stop.

“conejita, i don’t understand. why’re you being like this baby?” all his multiple arms surrounded your vision — and body. “you usually love it when i tell you how much of a whore you are for me.” a sob broke through, your arms held tightly to your chest no matter how badly you wanted to let him take control and just succumb to his touch.

“i am not a whore.”

valentino scoffed a little at that, his voice still smooth as honey as he condescendingly spoke to you. “conejita, yes you are.” he sighed, hating how the tears rolling down you face was from him and wasn’t anything pleasurable. “you’re my little slut and you always have been.”

you flinched in his grasp when he said that. small, salty droplets sliding down onto val. “then why do you call me your girlfriend, why do you say i’m so special when i’m just a whore to you like everyone else?” your voice was weak but crystal clear, the broken sobs only inching there way through a little bit. “the only difference is i can leave of my own free will, or can i? we both know you’re not above hurting and forcing people to do things they don’t want.” low blow. even if val deserved it.

his heart dropped, his touch receding in disgust at the venom laced on his pretty bunny’s lips. did she really think so low of me when it came to her? “bunny…” for the first time in your life val sounded.. soft? his confidence fleeting just like is hold on you did. “there is a difference. i love you, i don’t love those other whores.”

it was as if a knife was thrown right into your chest. he loved you. did he really? your voice was barely above a shy whisper as you spoke, sobs muffled now but your eyes still brimmed with tears unshed. “then why do you hurt me so much? why do you treat me like i’m nothing but replaceable?”

“i thought you liked it when i hurt you baby? when i slap you and be rough with you, you told me you liked that.” val sounded hurt, confusion evident. but he never was very smart. “there’s only one bunny for me and she’s right here and all mine.”

“im not-“ your voice trailed off a touch. “im not talking about sex.” you whispered, fully ignoring the last half of his words.

“then what? he dipped himself back down to you, his arm wrapping around you in a possessive hook, ignoring the flinches and small protests falling from your lips. “please conejita, tell me what, i can’t stand to see you like this and it not be because of my cock.”

your bunny nose twitched and sniffled involuntarily, soft ears coward further into your hair, your gaze refusing to meet his as you looked at your knees, still kneeling. “you’re mean to me n- i don’t like it.” you huffed in frustration but you still sounded to weak, “i just- i don’t wanna be the same as all the other girls you sleep with.”

vals eyes widened in shock as you spoke, he didn’t mean to make you cry. for once. these types of relationships were what he was used to, not real but built on sex and control and whilst you still loved him in control of you, you were just a sensitive baby after all. “other girls? conejita, you’re so stupid.” you show him a glare at the word. “baby, im sorry but you are, i haven’t fucked anyone but you for months. now im not one for monogamy but why would i fuck anyone else when i have my pretty little girl who lets me do whatever i want to her?” he smirked at the last part, knowing you’d react. and you did.

a small blush crept up your cheeks, eyes still glassy but now innocently wide and staring straight up at val like a lost puppy. “you haven’t, really?” val nodded, pointy teeth being shown as he smiled down at you. “but- your job, it-“

“requires me to direct porn, not to star in it.” val sighed, kissing his teeth and looking around the room. “conejita, look at me.” there was no room for arguing. his finger hooked under your chin lifting your face to meet his towering gaze. “you look so pretty like this, little bunny.” his fingers traced the tears bleeding down your face. “can you do something for me?” you nodded weakly. tension so think it could cut diamonds.

“teach me.” the words fell from val’s lips so delicately, you could pass out from the soft tone in his voice.

“wha- what do you mean?”

“i don’t know how to love you right, teach me.” he traced his hands down your face, touch somehow rough for such a gentle notion. “teach me how to love you, kiss you, hold you, teach me how to be yours like you are mine.” you arched into his touch everywhere his fingertips trailed, chasing the way it felt to have him like this.

“like this-“ your resolve was starting to fade. “need you to be soft with me, please, val jus- please don’t hurt me.”

“you just need to be my baby bun, don’t you? not my whore but my precious girl?” his voice had the same addicting honey to it without the poison and this was so much better. you nodded your head, tears now falling from the relief and need for more of this.

“can- can you hold me?” it sounded pathetic but you didn’t care. val wordlessly hooked two of his arms underneath your thighs, his other two still trailing your body, small bruises forming on your knees from the harsh floor. he stalked over to the large bed, satin sheets and silk covered it, sitting atop the pillows at the height of the bed. the hands on your body softly moving you, forcing your legs into a straddle and coercing your neck to dip into his collarbones, before wrapping around you and drowning your senses in only him.

“like this?” his thumb ran over your floppy ear, stroking the fur then and revelling in the small whimper of submission that raked through you. you nodded your head, nuzzling further into him. “good girl.” you nuzzled more, getting impossibly closer.

valentino sighed in frustration at himself. “you’re so cute, little conejita. so adorable. all i want to do is protect you like this.” you clung to him as if he would disappear or return to his mean words and harsh grip if you didn’t savour it.

several minutes passed before he pulled you out of the crook of his neck by your hair, it was a hard pull but the way his hands were caressing where he yanked and the look in his eyes had you melting. “my sensitive little girl,” val’s thumb traced over your bottom lip, your mouth quickly enveloping his thumb before he could move it, sucking softly, innocent eyes staring up at him. “i fucking love you conejita. don’t ever forget that or question it ever again.” you whined in agreement, sending vibrations over his thumb. the same thumb that now rubbed over your tongue in such an addicting way.

“is this all you wanted, baby? fuck, i don’t have to hurt you to get you exactly how i want you, do i? i don’t have to slap you into submission because you’re already my obedient little bun.” you nodded, rolling your hips slowly. val didn’t need teaching on how to treat you like this. he just needed to realise you were his without having to be mean to you to prove that. “this is more addicting than when you’re fighting me.” he groaned, pushing up into your hips and losing himself a little in the wet heat of your mouth. tears brimmed in your eyes from the sting of him pushing his fingers down your throat and the overwhelming scenario happenening. his is all you wanted. needed. and it was better than you could’ve ever imagined.

you pulled off his thumb with a pop, panting cutely as you caught your breath. “i need more, please — closer.” you begged, the tears that had brimmed now spilling for the millionth time that night. “please don’t stop treating me like this.” val swore in that moment he didn’t deserve you. his lips crashed into yours, long tongue twisting around yours, controlling and guiding your kiss, enveloping your mouth in the heat of his. small whines of bliss made their way into the kiss before val could pull back, your tongues still connecting with a string of spit.

“is this okay conejita?” his roaming hands going under your clothes but still so soft in comparison o anything you’d felt from him before. a breathy ‘yes’ left your lips and the tears were still pouring. “so pretty when you cry, baby, so pretty.” you felt his fingers carding through the soft locks atop your head. “youre just a little bunny that needs taking care of aren’t you? not a slut, just my pretty girl. just needing to be treat like the most precious thing in the world?” you were crying harder now, frantically nodding and pathetically grinding into him now.

“guess what, conejita. that’s what you are to me.” his accent thick and raw. “and ill kill anyone who dares hurt you — even myself if you asked me to for what i’ve done to you.” you could tell he was losing composure. “how could anyone possibly hurt such a pretty little thing like you?” the question was rhetorical but his voice drew out the most lewd reactions from you, bunny instincts causing the need to rub your face into his chest.

his hands dragged you back to look at him again, drinking you in, zoning into your wet and messy face, “shit, cry for me conejita, ill lick all your tears away.”

and he did just that for the rest of the night as he took his time absolutely cherishing and worshipping his baby bun. only laying a hand on you if you begged for it. and he found he liked that much better. you willingly being pathetic for him was much more enticing than him forcing it.

[a-dragons-journal]

Hi! I was scrolling through the otherkin tag (as one does) and saw on an ask you answered that you hated DNIs and didn’t want to go into it on that ask. So I’m curious now- why do you hate DNIs? I don’t have a DNI, and I’m not out to try and change your mind. I’ve just never seen anyone say outright that they didn’t like DNIs, so I’d really like to hear your thoughts. Thanks!

I ended up indeed going into it later, because people kept sending in asks about it, so this tag exists now, but in summary:

- I don't necessarily hate the existence of DNIs, because they can be a useful tool in certain circumstances, but I hate that they're starting to become an expectation/requirement and that it's now considered "creepy/suspicious" in a growing number of communities to not have one. It should not be an obligation to basically list your political stances, discourse opinions, and triggers - you know, things you can be attacked for/people can use to hurt you - in any circumstance, least of all on the Internet where anyone can see it.

- For that matter, putting a list of things that can hurt you in public where anyone can see it and know exactly how to target you if they want to hurt/harass you is a bad idea, whether it's a social requirement or not. Full stop. Unless you are in a relatively small group where you know the intentions of the people there (and often not even then!), it is not a good idea to tell people how to effectively hurt you on the Internet.

- I hate it when people put "[x bigoted group] DNI" at the bottom of actual discussion-type content posts (as opposed to, like, aesthetics and stuff), such as people putting "TERFs DNI" at the bottom of posts about feminism, because a) if you're worried about your post appealing to that group, maybe you should reexamine your post's content, b) I've seen firsthand more than once that those groups, TERFs especially, will purposely put "[x] DNI" at the bottom of their crypto-rhetoric posts in order to turn people's critical thinking skills off and make them more likely to accept the crypto rhetoric (foot-in-the-door tactic), and c) even if it's not intentionally malicious like the last point, it still makes it so the OP's post is suddenly immune to criticism, because "hey this comes off a little transphobic" can be met with "how dare you call me a transphobe?? I said 'TERFs DNI' right there!!1!", which, again, has to do with the whole "turning people's critical thinking skills off" problem.

- On a similar note, I hate this recent trend toward performative activism and "racists/transphobes/homophobes/etc. DNI!1!" feels like another permutation of that; I don’t like people demanding/expecting me to announce all my political opinions right out the gate. It should be my decision whether or not I want to share sensitive information about myself (and if you’re scoffing at the idea of a political opinion being “sensitive information” - if it can get you, again, harassed and attacked by a complete stranger, it’s sensitive information).

- People seem to forget that people can, will, and do lie on their DNIs and bios. Predators will lie about being "under 18” in order to make minors they’re interacting with feel safe and let their guard down. TERFs will lie about “transphobes DNI!” to ensure their crypto rhetoric spreads and gets a foot in the door of trans-supporting people’s thought processes. All “it’s to let the people affected by [bigotry] know I’m safe,” which is something I hear sometimes, really means is that the bigot in question only has to put up a DNI to make the people they’re planning to target lower their guard. There is nothing guaranteeing that someone actually believes what their DNI implies they believe. It’s an illusion of safety that just doesn’t - and, really, can’t - exist on the internet, by the internet’s nature. And people thinking they’re safer than they really are is what gets people hurt because they stopped being careful. I’m not saying people need to (or should) live in fear, but relying on DNIs is not a sustainable solution, imho.

- I hate people using DNIs/BYFs as an alternative to blocklists because it often becomes essentially them forcing other people to curate their internet experience for them, and then getting mad (or hurt) when that doesn't work out for reasons that should be obvious. Especially when you take it to the extreme of trying to regulate anyone who reblogs your posts, which I have seen sometimes - you can't seriously expect people to check the OP of every single person whose post they reblog to make sure they agree with your opinions on fandom discourse; that's untenable and it can only lead to people getting hurt. You are the only person who is - and the only person who can be - responsible for your internet experience. Curate your own space.

- as a minor point, "standard DNI criteria" is becoming a popular phrase and it's frankly a useless phrase because there's no such thing. Beyond "racists/homophobes/transphobes" there's literally no telling what a given person includes in what's "standard" - pro- or anti-ship? SFW agereg/petreg blogs? DDLG? Steven Universe fans? inclusionists or exclusionists? There is no "standard." (But then, I feel like how common that phrase is becoming says something about exactly how performative and empty the trend of DNIs is as a whole at this point in time.)

- also as a minor point, I am frankly just not a fan of how often DNIs put things like "Steven Universe fan" and "neonazi" right next to each other like they're the same level of bad. I recognize consciously that this is not the intention, but it sure does come off that way sometimes. It reminds me a bit too much of those callout posts that have six pages about the person's bad opinions on anime or whatever and only then go "oh yeah and also they sexually abused, threatened, and sent their friends to harass a minor and we have screenshot evidence of all of that. anyway here's three more pages about why their art is bad because they drew a 16-year-old in a crop top one time".

And, let me be very clear here: I do not hate people who have DNIs, nor do I want to act like they're never useful. They are, sometimes! But I do feel they're being misused and they're starting to become an expectation and that's a huge problem, for the same reason that people trying to force everyone to put their age/basic personal information in their bios is a problem - it's a safety concern. I am honestly convinced that at this point, in most circumstances, DNIs are doing more harm than good.

If you want to use a DNI, that's up to you, and it's not like I'm gonna harass people about it ('s why I started that "dni critical" tag, so people could who don't want to read this stuff could avoid it) - but I want people to at least understand the risks they're taking depending on how they go about it. If it's useful to you, then good, I'm genuinely glad! It just concerns me how it's being treated by the larger Internet right now.

(And, of course, that's all just my personal subjective opinion - take what you like, leave what you don't. You're more than welcome to disagree with me; this is not a make-or-break argument for me, just one I have strong feelings about xD)

[chalky]

The Commodification of c!Tubbo

This essay is unnecessary but I think about it too much so here you go

At this point, y’all are probably sick and tired of me rambling about c!Tubbo, as this is about all my original posts are. But, I feel as though this is an important aspect of his character that is either swept under the rug or never given any second glance.

Whether intentionally or not, Tubbo has been constantly commodified by allies and enemies alike (don’t even get me started on the fandom, that’s for a whole other post). Like, throughout the entire story of the Dream SMP, Tubbo has been looked down upon as a yes man, sidekick, or extension of another character who is incapable of making decisions for himself, which is such a degrading thing to experience for so long and explains why his character values himself so little.

This is a long one, heads up!

 I want to break up this dehumanization and commodification into three categories:

Tubbo is either a pawn (something to be used), a trophy(something to be owned), or a scapegoat(something to be blamed) to others.

Tubbo Seen as a Pawn:

Wilbur loved Tubbo, but his treatment of him during the Pogtopia arc was definitely sad to see. (Note: Wilbur was spiraling and his mental health was in shambles. He couldn’t help his paranoia and he deserved way better than the ending he got, but that doesn’t absolve the effects of his actions on others). First he took Tubbo on as a spy, a very dangerous role that landed him dead, but throughout Tubbo’s service Wilbur saw him as an obedient pawn, while not a loyal one. A pawn ready to turn to whatever authority figure commanded him best. His remarks about Tubbo being a yes man back this up, and the way he warns Tommy that Tubbo will betray them erases all of Tubbo’s identity and reduces it to that of a spy (again, this is born of Wilburs paranoia, this isn’t his fault).

Dream made it very clear that he regarded Tubbo as lesser than a toy, so obedient and trusting that he wasn’t worth keeping alive because he was so boring to him. The whole speech about Tubbo being worthless wasn’t even directed at him despite him being right there. Dream only addressed Tommy as if he was the one whose opinion on Tubbos fate mattered.

Jack Manifold literally used Tubbo’s trust to attempt to kill Tommy, saying that he was a sweet guy but way too gullible. No better way to treat someone as a pawn to further ones own agenda than by literally using them. (Him talking about how he’d be there to comfort Tubbo after the assisted murder of his best friend still mildly disturbs me).

Quackity managed to talk Tubbo into going through with the Butcher Army, using Tubbo’s power to further Quackity’s agenda (which, by Quackity’s own admission, did not revolve around the protection of L’manburg.) Quackity didn’t care that Tubbo was against violence, and pushed his concerns to the side in favor of his own ideas and kept comparing Tubbo to Schlatt whenever he acted in a way he disagreed with.

Speaking of, THE CONSTANT DISREGARD OF HIS DECISIONS AS PRESIDENT. His Cabinet never listened to him and lowkey every stream they had together was a bit frustrating to me (I’m also a sensitive bitch). They didn’t respect him in any way and undermined his authority UNTIL THEY NEEDED HIM TO SAVE EVERYONE’S LIFE. (Elaborated on in Scapegoat Category).

Technically, as much as I am a Tommy apologist, Tommy’s constant insistence that the Disc War needed to involve Tubbo kind of fits under this category. As much as Tubbo was happy to help, his involvement wasn’t really necessary, but Tommy needed someone to help him. This involvement nearly resulted in his willing death.

The only reason Dream even wanted to kill Tubbo, on top of perceiving him as useless, was to hurt Tommy and give him something of a “hero origin story” like Batman and his parents or Spider-Man and Uncle Ben. So, literally by Dream’s definition, he wanted to fridge Tubbo.

We could refer to Wilbur assigning Tubbo to presidency as Wilbur using him to make the explosion of L’manburg hurt more, but that feels like a stretch to me.

This may be a stretch, but after Tubbo is executed and Tommy starts getting mad at Technoblade, Wilbur eggs Tommy on by saying “Think of what he did to Tubbo,” while Tubbo is literally right there. His emotions on the event doesn’t matter to Wilbur, only how it impacted Tommy.

Tubbo Seen as a Prize/Trophy

The constant referral of Tubbo as something to be owned by someone, like during Wilburs speech of “he’s your Tubbo!”, is a bit off putting though I don’t think it’s meant to be malicious. Very rarely is the sentiment reversed, seen when Ghostbur gave Tubbo the Your Tommy compass, furthering the idea that Tubbo is an object, something to be sought after and secured with little opportunity for him to own something himself. It’s always “Tommy’s Tubbo”. Also when Schlatt gloated about having “his very own Tubbo”.

Tommy shows more possessive behaviors when dealing with the discovery of Ranboo and Tubbo’s marriage, asking about permission and insisting that Ranboo stole Tubbo from him. I’m sure this is subconscious, I know Tommy values Tubbo as a person but he still reduces Tubbo to an object to guard because he treasures his friend.

Another more vague example would be the fact that Schlatt exiled Wilbur and Tommy, but kept Tubbo as his right hand man even though it was clear he was on POG2020’s side. It was a way to insult Tommy, a way for Schlatt to add salt to the wound by keeping his best friend.

The Dream Team captured Tubbo very early into the Revolution, keeping him in a hole and holding him for ransom (this could be played off for laughs, I just remembered it). They also burned down his base, unrelated really but I remember it.

We could also count the way that Dream kept threatening to kill Tubbo if Tommy didn’t return the disc, but this feels like a mixture of pawn and prize, while still dehumanizing as it compares his value to that of music discs.

Yes, I am going to take c!Tommy joking about killing Michael to get Tubbo and Ranboo to break up so he can get Tubbo back seriously. The way he glared at Michael while holding an axe was just for the stream to see, if it was a joke I feel like he would have said it out loud. Even if it is a joke, laughing about taking something Tubbo loves away just to ruin his relationships is a bit yikes and frames Tubbo as something to be won back. You can ignore this if you didn’t see that moment as canon, but there are plenty of signs pointing to this being in character. (Also to be noted, Tubbo didn’t want to show Michael to Tommy, so Tommy ignored him and asked Ranboo instead, who immediately showed Tommy to Michael despite Tubbo’s clear worries)

Tubbo seen as a Scapegoat

His cabinet flip flopped back and forth on the decision to exile Tommy every five seconds. Whenever they spoke with Tubbo, they were all “You’re right! We’re going to listen to you! We have to do what’s right!” and then they hear a half baked plan and completely switch up on what they already agreed to do. (This happened twice. One at the sit down meeting where Tommy revealed Spirit and the cabinet joined Tommy in his mocking, only to blame him for how the meeting ended. Twice at the exile). So when Tubbo had to follow the original plan to, you know, make sure their country wasn’t put under lock and key until every citizen was eventually killed, his cabinet acted so shocked and betrayed and he was Schlatt and a dictator. It’s very true that he went against their plan (THAT THEY MADE FIVE MINUTES BEFOREHAND AFTER HAVING ALREADY AGREED TO THE FIRST PLAN FOR DAYS), but the way they treated him afterwards, as if he was a vile person for keeping his country safe, heavily impacted Tubbo’s mental state for a long time after. What I’m saying is Tubbo was set up to be the villain in that scenario, accidentally by his allies, and purposefully by Dream.

Tubbo was blamed for the destruction of L’manburg by Dream and a few others (also himself)

TUBBO IS CONSTANTLY BLAMED FOR THE BUTCHER ARMY ARC DESPITE IT BEING COMPLETELY THOUGHT OF AND LEAD BY QUACKITY (This is predominately fandom based).

The full blame for Tommy’s exile has rested on Tubbo (I will never forget Tommy calling him a monster), despite the fact he was manipulated and backed into a corner by Dream. Even when everyone has come to understand that Tommy was manipulated by Dream, the same doesn’t go for Tubbo and he’s hit with “imagine exiling your best friend” jokes many times.

Wilbur puts the decision of blowing people up at the festival on Tubbo’s shoulders, absolving him of the blame.

Schlatt made Tubbo tear down the L’manburg walls and the important signs so he could have to deal with the blame (though Quackity took the fall for this).

This is more theory based, but I fully believe Wilbur made Tubbo president right in front of Techno to egg him on to attack L’manburg. Since Tubbo would be the president, he would take the full brunt of Techno’s wrath (and he and Tommy did), and the destruction fell onto him.

So! With my text evidence we can see a recurring pattern in the way that Tubbo has been used by many people over the history of the server without much regard for his feelings. There are very few times when people besides Tommy ask how Tubbo feels about a situation, leaving him to his dark thoughts without anybody caring. Even during the Final Disc War, when Tubbo was literally moments from death, nobody asks how he is. Nobody (except Quackity once) checks up on him, and he builds up his community by himself. Until Ranboo came along, and I am not overexaggerating this, nobody was with Tubbo to support him. He had no support system and nobody cared. They just assume that he is always fine and if he wasn’t, it isn’t their place to intervene. Tubbo is just not respected, feared, or acknowledged unless he has someone by his side, or unless he’s doing something bad in which case he’s unhinged and evil and sure to have a villain arc.

This is just something to find interesting:

The only few characters Tubbo is actively involved with that hasn’t looked down on him as a sidekick or an object has been Foolish, Puffy, Ranboo and Technoblade. You could make an argument of how Technoblade referring to him as “government” could be dehumanizing but I don’t think I’ve actually seen him do that in character? I could be wrong though. Really, Technoblade takes him seriously, but way more seriously than c!Tubbo warrants. Like, he’s looking for a tyrant to beat up and Tubbo is literally just a guy with a lot of issues struggling to keep a handle on his cabinet, which I find funny. But, jokes aside, Technoblade saw Tubbo as a legitimate threat during his presidency and is respectfully cautious of him and his nukes presently, which is surprising to me. Ranboo adores Tubbo and all of his chaos that people are unaware of because they don’t get to know him well enough. Puffy just wants the best for all the kids of the server and knows how to be respectful of their feelings, and Foolish is respectful of Tubbo, if a bit annoyed and intimidated by him.

The point of this essay is just to show that there is a pattern to these things. This is how Tubbo is treated, this is why Tubbo is prepared to die for whatever because because he doesn’t feel he’s worth anything while alive, and this is why it’s frustrating to see characters call him a follower, pawn, or yes man. And here’s the thing: I DONT KNOW WHY THEY TREAT HIM LIKE THIS??? Why him? I can’t really find out why this started to happen.

To sum some things up, no I don’t think every character who treats him poorly is completely evil. Again, some of this seems to be subconscious, some of this could be argued to be OOC, I just wanted to bring this pattern to light.

[alitaimagines]

“I don’t give a fuck about you anyway, whoever said I gave a shit about you? you never share your toys or communicate, I guess I’m just a play date to you.”  

character: bakugou katsuki, dabi - MY HERO ACADEMIA 

note: if any of you have any suggestions on any MHA characters you’d like to see written for, DM me or send me an ask!

“you are kidding me Bakugou?” his face scrunched up at the sound of you using his last name, “you can’t decide what’s best for our relationship when I have no say in it!” 

he scoffed, “stop trying to save this relationship! we’re going to be heroes! you know heroes can’t handle relationships!” you gripped his wrist as your eyes darkened, “yes it can! how would you know! we haven’t even tried it!” you retorted. 

a few of your classmates watched as the two of you bickered. it was odd for the two of you to fight so openly in front of everyone. out of the three years that the two of you were together, they maybe heard both of you argue once or twice? if even that. 

“because our relationship was doomed to fail from the start.”

your eyes widened at what he said as you heard Mina and Momo loudly gasp. you had no idea how to respond to his comment but the anger inside of you was very evident on your face. 

“sometimes I wonder how you’ll be a pro hero with an attitude like that. maybe you were right. maybe you were the reason why All Might retired.” 

Midoriya’s and Kirishima’s mouth dropped. everyone knew that was an extremely sensitive topic for Bakugou and you hit him right where it hurt. 

the both of you stared at each other before everyone watching realized that the both of you were activating your quirks. 

“hey! hey! don’t!” Kirishima screamed as he stood in between the two of you, “walk away! one of you walk away!” Kaminari added as you scoffed and shrugged Kirishima’s hand off your shoulder and walked away.

-

graduation finally happened all of you were packed and back home. you had found an apartment a few towns over to start your career. you had a few agencies to choose from and you decided to treat yourself to a night out on your own. 

you had found a bar not too far from your apartment. the lights were dim and you could hardly see any faces in the crowd. 

“never seen you around here before,” you heard a deep voice say behind you. you looked up to see a man with bright blue hair when you realized where you were. 

you were in a villain bar. you knew you moved to a pretty rough neighborhood but you didn’t expect to be in the yakuza and villain district. 

“just moved across the street, what’s your name?” you asked grabbing his hand. you knew exactly who you were talking too but you decided to act extremely dumb to it, “Dabi, what’s yours?” he asked.

you hesitated before shrugging, what was the worst that could happen?

“ ( your name ),” you said giving him a soft smile, “nice to meet you!” Dabi felt his heart skip a beat. 

he never had anyone be so nice to him. if anyone ever was nice to him, it was because he probably threatened them. but you? you had no ‘idea’ who he was and truthfully, he wanted to find out how long it would take for you to find out his real identity. 

“why are you on this side of town?” he asked as you sighed, “the apartments are cheap. graduating school and trying to find work on limited sources led me to these apartments.” 

Dabi nodded as you ordered a drink, “would you like one? they’re cheaper than I anticipated,” you offered Dabi. he remained silent before picking some random drink on the board. 

“DABIII!” he heard a girl behind him say. you looked at the ash blond girl before giving her a nervous smile, “oh, you’re cute! I see your busy so I’ll tell you later!” she exclaimed before prancing away. 

you gave him a look as he sighed dramatically, “don’t mind her....she’s special,” you giggled as the bartender gave you the drinks. you held up your drink and did a small toast before chugging the shot back. 

“oh, this is strong!” you giggled as you tried to hide your cringe induced face, “yeah, you’re drinking straight tequila, what did you expect?” he joked. 

you rolled your eyes before ordering another two, “well, not this however, it wasn’t bad!” you added, “so, Dabi!” you said as he rolled his eyes at the nickname, “what do you do for a living?” you asked innocently. 

his eyes widened, “stuff that you don’t need to worry about,” you pouted as Dabi sighed, “princesses like you don’t need to worry about such things,” your face immediately warmed up to the nickname. 

you moved your way onto Dabi’s lap as he wrapped his arm around your waist, “aw, here I thought you were going to open up to me,” you joked as he raised an eyebrow, “I’m a dangerous person sweetheart, you being in the same building as me could get you into trouble.” 

you laughed before holding him closer to you, “who cares?” he was surprised by your response but didn’t say much. all he did was hold you by the waist and watched the people in the bar make a fool of themselves. 

-

you watched as your friends tried to stop the villains on the screen. word around hero agencies is that a former U.A. student turned to the LoV. some thought it was a rumor while others thought it was true. no one could figure out who exactly it was though. 

the rumors surrounding your sudden disappearance was that you moved to another country to do hero work there. you had no idea who started the rumor but you could help and laugh about it. 

Dabi watched as you watched your former friends struggle to fight the villains. he knew you had turned to the LoV for your own personal reasons but he could tell that a part of you was still struggling to fully turn to villainy.

“those idiots have no idea what they’re doing,” Dabi inquired as you laughed, “no, they do. they’ll defeat them, I can assure you.” 

he grabbed your hand and stared at you, “don’t tell me you’re rooting for them!” he exclaimed as you shook your head, “I’m not but it’s the truth. you want to know how to defeat them? I’m your only gateway in and I’m telling you, these next generation heroes aren’t going to be easy to defeat. they know what they’re doing and it’s going to take a lot of us to be able to defeat them.” 

Dabi knew what you said was true. your turn to the LoV was a big one for the league. they reeled in someone who knew the strength and weaknesses of the next wave of heroes. 

in retrospect, he knew how wanted you were going to be once you made your first attack. you knew the power you held and you kind of used it to your advantage. 

dating Dabi and having Shiggy at the palm of your hand, you felt on top of the league. any little thing could turn you back to heroism and that was something no one wanted to happen. by now, you knew a lot of the deep secrets going on inside of the league and could possibly be the downfall of it if you turned back.

“guess you’re right,” he muttered as you rolled your eyes, “I know I am but that’s why I’m here to help you. especially you,” you whispered as you gave him a peck on the side of the lip, “and to help Shigaraki,” you added on knowing he was going to get annoyed by that. 

Dabi brought you on top of him as you gave him a quick kiss, “but don’t worry! I’ll pick my little fire boy over handys mcgee any day,” Dabi slapped your ass making you groan, “damn right you will,” he stated before grabbing you and wrapping you into his arms. 

“now let me remind you that you don’t belong to anyone besides me.” 

-

this was going to be the first mission you were going to be on and actually ‘show’ yourself to the world. you felt nervous jitters running through your body as you put on your very unique uniform. 

Toga had helped you pick your uniform out. you went with black leggings and a blue baseball-esque jersey. the color was very reminiscent to Dabi’s fire and he couldn’t help but poke fun at you when he first seen it. his second immediate thought was possessiveness. 

you were a new villain. a new cute villain. wearing clothes that honored him in a way. and the cherry that could go on top of that sundae would be you fighting your former boyfriend. 

the mission all of you were going on was a simple one. going to save Twice from prison and cause a little havoc while your add it. 

you were going to partner up with Toga as Shigaraki and Dabi partnered up and went a separate way. you were going to be the little chaos that was going to in sue so you could get your five seconds of fame. 

while Dabi and Shiggy made their way inside, you and Toga started to attack the prison guards. you were going to give them a small five second window to save Twice. 

you grabbed one of Toga’s knifes and stabbed one of the guards before doing that to the next three. Toga had never seen someone as cute as you stab so many people before and if she had to be honest, she found it extremely hot. 

“if Dabi hadn’t gotten to you first, I would have taken his place,” Toga winked at you as you rolled your eyes, “maybe you can join us one day,” you joked back as her pale face went a deep shade of red. 

“STOP FLIRTING!” Shiggy screamed through the earphone piece as Dabi agreed, “you touch her and I’ll burn you alive,” Dabi simply said making the two of you laugh. 

once you finally met up with Shiggy and Dabi, the four of you shoved Twice into one of the unnamed cars and sent it away before making your grand exit. 

you grabbed Dabi’s hand as you and Toga pranced to the front of the building. Dabi had to light the building on fire as the final act of the mission and during that time, you three fought the heroes who tried to attack him. 

“no way,” Bakugou heard Deku say as he gave his friend a confused look, “what?” he asked harshly as followed Deku’s eye trajectory. 

you had stabbed a guard in the gut making the person fall to the ground, “she’s the former U.A. student!” he screamed to the rest of the heroes. 

they all watched you stab, punch, and slice different people in horror. Bakugou was mortified. he would have never thought that it was you who had made the turn to villainy and if he was being honest, a part of his heart broke.

someone he once loved was now his enemy. not only that, as they moved in to attack all four of you, he watched as you gave Dabi a passionate kiss. 

“hi boys!” you exclaimed as you watched Toga’s eyes light up with excitement at the sight of Deku, “how are you!” you asked as they walked up to you in nervousness. 

Bakugou immediately walked up to you but before he could even get the chance to be six feet in front of you, Dabi let out a ball of fire. 

“sorry Katsuki, you don’t get that right but the right you do get is to face me one on one!” Toga and Shiggy laughed, kind of interested in seeing that fight, “I won’t. I can’t.” Bakugou said as you pouted. 

“aw, that sucks! I really wanted to pound you to the ground! but I guess that’ll be for another day,” you mocked as you gave him a smirk before dropping the bloody knife on the ground, “I guess we’ll see you later?” you asked as you ruffled the ash blond’s hair. 

Deku immediately went to attack you but Dabi pushed you back into him before feeling Shiggy and Toga shove you both inside of the car. 

“until next time sweethearts! can’t wait to see all of your pretty faces again!” 

the last sight that Bakugou had of you was kissing Dabi as he deepened it rather quickly. if there was one thing about Bakugou, it was his will and determination. 

and now he was determined to bring you back. bring you back to the side you belonged. to heroism. and even more importantly, back to him. 

ALITA

[jawritter]

Migraines...

Request: May I request something? I suffer of chronic migraine and every time I say it hurts to much to hang out people tell me it's only an headache, Can you write a Jensen x reader where she is in a similar situation? She has a migraine in one of their first date, she didn't say anything but J can see she isn't ejoing herself and when he found out why he bring her home to give her something for the pain and cuddle. And in the future he always stay home and cuddle her when she has migraine? Thank you!

Warnings: None really, maybe some language in there somewhere, but that’s always a warning with me lol. I’m not sorry. Sick reader warning, headache, bad headache, fluffy Jensen. I think that’s about it.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Sick!Reader

Word Count: 1859

A/N: Beta’d by @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid​! Thanks again hun! Also thanks to @deanwanddamons​ who has been working on a project with me for my 1k binge read! You guys are both awesome!!

Want more? Check out my masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

Even though the text message notification on your phone wasn’t loud in theory, it seemed like it was loud enough to break the sound barrier to your aching head. 

Rolling over in your sea of blankets you feel blindly for your phone in the pitch black room, regretting the moment you look at the brightly lit screen of your phone, feeling a fresh stab of pain shoot through your skull at the assaulting light change in your vision field.

When you finally got the screen dark enough for you to read the text message without screaming pain in your head you see it was a text message from Jensen, telling you that he was looking forward to dinner with you tonight when he got off work, and your heart fell in your chest. 

You had been suffering from a migraine for the past two days, and it was just getting worse, you had totally forgotten about your plans for dinner with your boyfriend tonight. Hell you didn’t even know what day it was until he texted you, you had barely left your bed.

Letting out a frustrated huff of breath you text him back, and tell him you couldn’t wait to see him. When in reality, you were racking your aching brain, trying to figure out exactly how you were going to survive this date. 

You didn’t want to cancel your date with him because of your migraine. It wasn’t like it was something you hadn’t had to suffer through before, having had them from a very young age, and as everyone loved to tell you, ‘It’s just a headache’, so you have had to suffer through dates, birthdays, work, and just about anything you could imagine before. 

Also it had been a week since you’d seen Jensen, the two of you hadn’t been dating long, and you didn’t want to disappoint him. In fact this was your first ‘official’ date.

If there was one person you didn’t want to let down because of a ‘stupid headache’ it was him. 

So you spent the rest of the day trying medication, home remedies from essential oils, to excessive caffeine intake to get this migraine to let up at least a little bit, in order to fool your boyfriend. 

By the time you showered, dressed, and did your makeup, you were pretty sure the drummer for Disturbed was trapped inside your skull, and was playing ‘Down With The Sickness’ on repeat. 

Nothing you had tried worked, not even a little bit, this was probably the most relentless migraine you had ever experienced, just because you so desperately needed it to go away, it chose to hang on.

You didn’t have time to wallow long in your self pity before the doorbell sounded, and you opened the door, revealing Jensen. 

“Hey baby girl, I missed you.” Jensen said, coming through the door, and grabbing you up into a hug. The swift movement that would have normally made you laugh, made you scrunch up your nose, and close your eyes for a second. Jensen was quick to pick up the change in your normal behavior as well. Not missing a thing. The boy was observant if he was nothing else, and that was going to make this just as hard to hide the fact that you weren’t feeling the best. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked you, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked into your eyes, searching you as if he could read your reaction before you answered him. 

“Nothing’s wrong, just surprised me that’s all.” you lied smoothly, hoping he’d buy it.

“Oh, sorry, I was just really excited to see you.” he said, grabbing you around the waist, and pulling you closer to him, slower this time, brushing his lips over yours in a sweet kiss. 

“S’okay, I really missed your face too,” you tell him jokingly, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Well, let’s get going before they cancel our reservation,” he said, grabbing your jacket, and helping you to slip it on your shoulders. "When we’re done if you're feeling up to it, I thought about taking you down to the pier. It’s beautiful out there at night, one of my favorite places actually.”

You smiled sweetly at him before giving him a peck on his cheek as he opened the car door for you. You couldn’t disappoint him in this, he’d put so much thought into it, and people all over the world would consider you damn lucky to have a date night with Jensen Ackles, so you soldiered through it, determined to not let it show that your skull was pounding.

The ride to the restaurant was a short one mercifully, and they took you both to the back fairly quickly, into the VIP part of the restaurant, one of the perks of being on a date with Jensen. 

The strong smell of the Italian food assaulted your senses as soon as you made your way into the room, and you had to swallow down the wave of nausea that assaulted you. 

Two very annoying things that made migraines more than just a headache, the sensitivity to light, and smell were horrible. 

You tried your best to keep up with the conversation, Jensen talked to you about his day on set, future projects, asking you questions about yourself in an attempt to get to know you better. You thought you were keeping up pretty good with the conversation. Until Jensen finally put his fork down, and pushed his plate away from him, his astonishing green eyes searching yours, and his fingers reaching up nervously to scratch at his beard.

“Y/N… Am I doing something wrong?” Jensen asks, and your heart hit your feet like a lead balloon. 

“No Jay, everything is perfect! Why would you think you were doing something wrong?” you asked in earnest, and if you wouldn’t have had a headache, you would have been having a great time. 

Jensen picked a perfect restaurant, you loved the food, what little bit you were able to eat of it, and he was being the perfect gentleman. He’d obviously put a lot of thought into this date tonight, and you felt like you had already let him down, or he wouldn’t have even had to ask you that question. 

“Well, it’s just that you’ve hardly touched your food at all, you refused the wine when they offered it to you, and you're barely talking to me at all, I feel like I’m carrying the conversation here. I just, you know, wanted you to have a good time.”

You mentally high fived yourself in the face as he looked down at his lap defeated, you never meant to hurt his feelings, you thought you were keeping up the conversation pretty well, he was obviously paying more attention than you gave him credit for, and you were a horrible actor. 

Reaching across the table you grab his hand in your own, and his eyes look up to meet yours as he chews nervously at his lower lip, awaiting your rejection. 

“Jay, that’s not it, I’m having a good time, It’s just, I wasn’t very honest with you earlier. You see I have these migraines, and I’ve been dealing with this one for the past two days, I thought I could soldier through it without you noticing, but apparently there’s a reason why I’m not an actor. I love spending time with you Jensen, and I didn’t want to let you down.”

Jensen reached across the table with his free hand, your hands in his big, warm hands, his eyes softening instantly, and relief evident on his beautiful face. 

“Oh baby, you should have told me!” you looked down for a moment humiliated and embarrassed that you had officially ruined your first date with the man you’d been in love with since the words “Easy tiger” fell from those amazingly pink lips of his fifteen years ago. 

Sliding his chair around the small table in order to get closer to you, Jensen wraps his arms around you, and pulls you into his chest, the warmth of his body, and the scent of his cologne had you melting against him in a matter of seconds. 

“I’m sorry I ruined our date. I’m sure you never want to go out with me again.” You tell him shyly, enjoying the close contact, convinced it was the last you’d ever get from him.

“Sweetheart, of course I want to see you again, hell you really think you're getting rid of me tonight?” he asked as he motioned to the waiter to bring the check. “We’re getting you home, in some comfy PJ’s, and we’re gonna cuddle until you feel better, even if that takes days.”

If you hadn’t fallen in love with the man already, you would have been right there at that moment. No one had ever treated you like that just because you had a migraine, never. Usually they told you to suck it up, but his main concern seemed to be you feeling better, and getting you home. You didn’t know how the hell you got so lucky to have found this man, but you thanked whatever God out there that was listening that you did.

Once Jensen got you home, medicated, and in your comfy PJ’s he changed into some he’d still had packed in his car, and snuggled down into the bed next to you, turning the lights off in the bedroom, getting it as cold as the two of you could stand it, and enveloping you in his strong arms. Playing with your hair softly, and peppering you with little, soft kisses ever so often until you relaxed against him.

Even with a horrible migraine you fell asleep that night more content than you had ever been in your life, you could definitely get used to sleeping in this man’s arms.

The next morning came and you were greeted with a cup of coffee, and Jensen’s lips kissing your head, snuggling back down into the covers next to you. 

“Feeling better, baby girl?” he asked you, letting you settle back against him with a cup of coffee curled in your fingers. His warm body pressed tightly to yours. 

“Much better, migraine seems to be gone, or almost gone, you're a miracle worker.” you tell him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, before settling back down against him. 

“I got the magic touch.” he said, tickling your sides a little, causing you to giggle against him.

“Seriously, baby girl, next time you're not feeling well tell me, we’ll have a night in, as long as I’m with you, I don’t care how I spend it. I just want to be with you.”

“How did I get so lucky to have you, Jensen?” you asked him, looking into his piercing green eyes that you could honestly drown in. 

“Better remember it to, baby girl. Cause I’m one of a kind” 

Giving him a jab in the ribs playfully you reveil in the laugh that vibrated through him. He was right about one thing, he was definitely one of the kind. 

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

Tag List: @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624​ @busy-bee-angel-misska​ @justanotherwinchester​ @deanwanddamons​​ @imabitch4jensen​​ @rvgrsbrns​​ @bi-danvers0​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @akshi8278​ @lyss-dw79​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ 

[liliacvol6]

Gettin’ High ~ Bucky Barnes Smut

Summary: You smoke weed with Bucky, letting your new-found confidence from the herb take out, reveal some information you've been hiding and that leads to an interesting interaction with the super soldier....

Warnings: Mentions of weed, smutttttt, metal-arm kink, slight choking

Author's Note: This is my first fan-fic in about five years, please let me know if it's too slow or boring! Any feedback is much appreciated! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Finally" you whispered once back in your room. Throwing your uniform onto the ground and stepping into a hot shower would be a great way to start a night with yourself in the Avengers Tower. Everyone out on a big mission, except you. Getting injured a few months ago, with a slow and definitely not speedy recovery meant you got to do very little when it came to missions.

~

"Steve, I hurt my arm over five months ago. I can go on this mission." You stood your ground, as tiny as it was, you being just a little over five-foot resulted in you looking like a puppy dog instead of a terror. Steve sighed and crossed his arms over his chest,

"Enough. I'm in charge of you, you're staying here. Until you can take Bucky again while sparring you won't return to the field." Your angry eyes met Bucky's head, he looked up from the file and locked eyes with you, he smirked at your anger and went back to reading. You were infuriated. Steve and the other avengers all treated you like a child because you were so much [physically younger than them. Bucky was always being a dick to you because you were powerful, able to generate and manipulate magnetic field was your mutant ability, but you couldn't take him while sparring.

The rules were for sparring were simple, no powers. You were being taught how to defend yourself in case Wanda went all "House of M" again and erased half of the mutants powers. Bucky was your training partner because Steve was too busy with other duties, forced to be paired with the strongest of the avengers was something you regretted. Sure with your powers you were unstoppable, but trying to fight against Bucky's metal arm and assassin skills was impossible.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The one thing you could control was what you did when all the other avengers were out of the tower, smoke weed. It was the highlight of the most recent months. Being able to lounge wherever you wanted, smoke a bowl and just relax without the others screaming at you was a highlight to your residency as an avenger.

"Okay, meals are in the fridge, or just get take-out. Whatever you want, I don't care. You have one of my cards." Tony called to you as they all boarded the Quinjet. You smiled and waved to them as they took off, Nat giving you her signature smirk and a little wave, Steve nodding his head at you, Thor holding up his hammer as a sign of goodbye and Bruce giving an awkward wave. Tony blew a kiss as the door closed and they flew off.

You ran to your room and removed your suit. Digging through your underwear drawer and cursing yourself for putting it in such a lame hiding place, you pulled out your little container and picked a joint to start the night off with. You didn't want to smoke in your room in case a fire alarm went off so you went up to the roof. It was dark but there was a little make-shift seating area that Nat and you had set up to play cards and drink at night.

You let out a large sigh and sat on a fold-up chair, pulled out your lighter and lit the joint. The earthy smell of the weed filled your nostrils and you inhaled the marijuana, with your eyes closed and head titled to the stars you were ready to get your high on. You expelled the smoke only to open your eyes and scream.

"Jesus fucking CHRIST Bucky. What the FUCK are you doing here?" You screamed trying to put out the joint to hide the evidence of your actions. Bucky's eyes watched you as you were frantically trying to stay calm. "What?" You aggressively asked him as you felt your face becoming crimson.

"I didn't know you smoked weed." He said leaning forward, "I don't mind, I used to smoke weed in my teenage years." He smiled at you, you smiled back. You didn't even mean to smile but this was not typical Bucky behavior. He never smiled at you, always glaring or smirking.

"I only do it when no one else is here, it helps me to calm down and I can do stuff, I don't know." You trailed off at the end, still embarrassed even though Bucky said it didn't bother him.

"Can I try some?" He asked not breaking eye contact, you shrugged and passed him the weed and lighter. "I don't know if it'll work, my body is different now." He said as he brought the weed up to his mouth and lit the joint.

You watched him as he expelled the smoke, he passed it back to you and you followed his actions.

~~~~

You and Bucky had finished off the first joint and decided to light another. You were never like this, but Bucky was being nice and you couldn't wait to tell Nat that you two had bonded.

"Why do you live here and not with your family?" You were brought back to Earth by his question

"They passed a little while ago, part of my mutation is slow-aging. I was born in the 50′s" You ran your hands through your hair, you hadn't been asked about yourself in a while. You figured everyone knew but still treated you like you were 18. Your gene was triggered on your 18th birthday when you were in a car accident with your older sister. Your abilities were triggered, you created a magnetic force-field around the both of you. The car was destroyed and you were never the same after.

Bucky sat there speechless, "I didn't realize" You just nodded your head and shrugged, you were very high and didn't really care about your past at the moment. "I wish I would've known, we have a lot in common." He said leaning back and flexing his arm, you stared at it. It was so intriguing, he rolled down the sleeve of his shirt to cover it and you rolled your eyes.

"You're so sensitive about it, why?" Being as high as you were, you didn't notice Bucky's posture tighten up.

"I've used it to kill people and that's what everyone thinks about when they see it." He looked down, obviously ashamed.

"I don't think so." You said nonchalantly as you took another hit. "Maybe when you had the red star one but with the black one, it's sleek and sexy. That's all I think about when I see it." You put your arms behind your head and crossed your legs after realizing you called him sexy your face was red once again.

"No one has ever called my arm sexy" You closed your eyes, trying to make yourself shrink out of this conversation. Thank god the weed was helping you to feel ~wild~

"Maybe not to your face, I've had conversations about it with people, like Wanda" You said trying to get the subject off of you. You took a peak over at Bucky, he was smirking to himself, looking off the roof and down to the people on the sidewalk. "They look small from here" You said staring at him, you felt awkward, being around for a long time on this Earth meant you had been with lots of men before. However, you never allowed yourself to get close to anyone because they would age and you wouldn't.

"If you think I'm sexy why do you never talk to me, or sit next to me at meetings. There's always an empty seat next to me but you never take it." He said getting defensive, looking at your with cold eyes and crossed arms. You mimicked his position and gave a small smile.

"Bucky, you never speak to me. When you came to live at the tower I came by with cookies and you told me to leave you alone. When we spar you scream at me and call me weak, why would I want to sit next to you?" You spat at the super soldier. You immediately regretted it, "I'm sorry. Look truth is, when you first got here I had a lil bit of a crush." Bucky's eyes shot towards you making you blush, "But that's to be expected yanno, you were the new guy and cute and mysterious and your arm was cool..."

"Sexy, you said." Bucky exclaimed cutting you off, you scrunched your eyes closed and continued,

"Anyways, then the cookie incident so I just said 'eh whatever, he will just be my training partner.' and I never thought about it again." You said, lying about the last part but he didnt need to know that.

"I don't think you're weak, you're incredibly strong, even when you aren't using your powers. You just don't try as hard as you should because you rely on them." You rolled your eyes,

"You always have your arm attached to you, always using it. That's your power so why can't I use mine always." You crossed your arms once again,

"This is the reason I don't talk to you, come to find out you were born in the 50′s, making you much older than I previously thought you were yet you act like a child." He stood up, getting ready to leave. You knew he was right, but he brought up a lot of emotion that you hadn't thought about for a while. You were bombarded with the times when you caught Bucky looking at you during "family" dinners or parties and you started blushing.

"I'm sorry, the weed is supposed to calm me and here I am freaking out." Bucky looked at you and sat back down.

"Don't be sorry, I know I can be a dick. However, even without my arm I could kick your ass." He said smiling widely at you, you looked at him with complete disbelief.

"Really cute Buck, thought we were gonna apologize, confess our attraction to each other and fuck or something, but now I'm not in the mood. I'm gonna hit the hay." You got up, shocking Bucky with your words. He stood up quickly and followed you.

"Hey hey, come on...... did you really mean what you said though? about the fucking, because I don't have to tell anyone." He said leaning against the elevator wall, you shook your head no.

"Look, I'm saying some things tonight, but my mind isn't working that well right now so it doesn't matter because who knows if I even mean it." You could feel your high getting the best of you, becoming all flustered, which is something you never allowed. Especially not in front of Bucky.

"Listen, you're really high right now and you're being honest and open with me. Why don't I return the favor?" He asked you, you stood just staring at him, who was this guy? Smiling at you while also raking his eyes up and down your body. "I think you're beautiful, I have since you brought the cookies to my room. I deal with a lot, bad dreams and constant dark thoughts so I made sure you didn't want to be around me." You scrunched your nose again in confusion.

"Well that's great, I spent the last year and a half thinking you hated me, so every time I thought about you I would feel ashamed." You let out feeling a weight being lifted off your shoulders with the verbal vomit you just threw at Bucky.

"When do you think of me and feel ashamed afterward?" He asked licking his lips, your eyes bulged, and your bit your lip.

"I didn't mean it like that." You started to go on another tangent about how you weren't interested in him like that but he was walking over to you, putting his metal arm up against the wall next to your head. You looked at the arm, at his eyes and then the ground. "I'm uh sorry" You said not looking up at him. "I jus-"

"Enough, you don't need to be sorry for being attracted to me. I already told you I think you're beautiful. I also think it's hot you find my arm sexy. Maybe some time I could show you how it works." You didn't need to look up to know his signature smirk was plastered on his face, your face was on fire and you felt like an innocent little girl again. His tall, muscular figure leaning over you and being dirty was trying you wild.

"I like that." Was all you said, the weed was making you feel so powerful and sexy. You looked up at Bucky, in a matter of seconds he grabbed your wrist with his flesh hand and pulled you out of the elevator and towards the closest room, the laundry room. It was dark and smelt like lavender, Wanda's signature detergent scent. Bucky closed the door and you didn't know what to expect, you yelped when Bucky pushed you against the back of the door.

"Can I kiss you, please?" he asked with an urgency that made your panties wet. You answered him by pulling on his hair, bringing his lips to yours and kissing him. You let out a moan, his lips were rough and chapped. Just like you had imaged they'd be. He wrapped his metal arm around your waist and lifted you up into the air. He put you down on a washer and kissed your neck, you let out another moan as he started kissing down your chest. You started to tug the t-shirt you were wearing over your head when you jumped because of the sudden start of the washer. You looked at Bucky and he was smirking.

"If you leave the washer on it'll send a hum to your clit and then your orgasm will be fantastic" Bucky moaned into your ear as his flesh-hand started to rub your clit. The weed mixed with the fact that Bucky was fingering you as a washing machine rumbled against your clit just right, was sending you to an orgasm.

"B-Bucky, please fuck me" You whispered into his ear, he didn't waste any time. He used his metal arm to rip off your shirt, he moaned at your already naked chest.

"No bra, now that's sexy." He said smiling, you laughed and grabbed at his shirt, once it was over his head you threw off your shirt and begged him to take off his pants. "Fuck me" Was all he said as his metal hand went to touch your breast. You moaned as he pinched one of your nipples and kissed him. You reached down and gasped into the kisses when you felt how huge his cock was.

"Jesus Christ Bucky" You said in between kisses, he smirked into the kiss and thrust his metal fingers into you. "Oh m-" you started to yell, his fingers so cool in your pussy sent you flying into another dimension. You had never felt so much pleasure in all of your years on Earth. Bucky was tired of you getting all the attention, he turned off the washer, causing you to squirm around. Bucky's flesh arm snaked around your waist.

"You don't get to cum just yet." He smiled down at you and you gave him your best angry expression. With that, Bucky jerked his cock off a little and slid it into you, you both moaned out as he started pushing in a little at a time.

"Your cock is so hard, it feels so good." Bucky moaned, this time it was loud.

"Keep talking dirty like that baby, I love it" He whispered into my ear making me moan.

It wasn't long until Bucky's cockiness took over. "Turn around" he growled at you, you rolled your eyes and started turning slowly, too slowly because Bucky grabbed you by the waist with his flesh arm and flipped you around onto your stomach. He slammed into you and took his metal arm and put it around your neck. You moaned out as the cool fingertips wrapped around your neck. You always thought his arm was sexy and having it wrapped around your neck felt incredible. You could feel your orgasm on its way just from his touch.

"You like my arm princess?" He asked squeezing a little tighter, you whimpered, "What was that? Couldn't hear you?" His cocky grin appearing on his face.

You moaned out "Yes, I love it Bucky" You heard a loud grunt and suddenly Bucky was slamming into you faster and harder than before. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum" You screamed, Bucky flipped you around so you were on your back and facing him. He slammed into you again and started using his metal fingers to rub your clit.

You couldn't hold it in anymore and you came harder than you ever had, Bucky removed his fingers from your throbbing clit and wrapped his hand around your neck. He slammed hard into you, if you were a regular human you probably would've been sore the next day.

"Fuck (Y/N)" Bucky whispered as he pulled out, jerking his big load onto your stomach. "Holy shit, sex while high is incredible" he breathed out, falling beside you.

"Yeah it is" You said pulling out another blunt and looking at him, he raised his eyebrows at you, "Wanna go again Buck?"

[enamoured-x]

can you do a nick amaro imagine with the smut prompts 7, 11, 21, 26, and 40. thank you so much! i love your writing!!

I didn’t fit in the last prompt because this ended up being pretty angsty at first... but I really really love it. This made me miss the hell out of Nick. Anyways, I hope you like it! (gif not mine)

Warnings: NSFW

Nick had been terribly busy at work lately. He’d come home late and even the days he could get off early, he’d just work from home. You weren’t too worried since he had gotten better at pacing himself and making sure to take breaks and not run himself to the ground. He was however, not good at putting time aside for other things. Like you. Nick hadn't touched you all month, just kissed you goodnight and good morning. Or hugs when he got home from a long day. But nothing more than that and you were growing desperate. You knew you were being needy, you knew for some a month was nothing. But for you and Nick, a month was excruciatingly long. You were used to going at it nearly everyday. So a month without Nick, without a release by his hands, well it was taking a toll on you. 

It was late in the afternoon, Nick had the day off but of course he was making calls and looking over evidence. You were simply watching him from where you laid sprawled on the couch watching tv. You kept looking over at him at the kitchen table. His brows furrowed, pink lips pursed. You thought you were finally able to have him all to yourself today but that went out the window the minute he pulled out file after file after you had finished eating lunch. He had been at it for three hours and you were beginning to grow bored. You were also horny, just as you had been all month. 

He didn’t even look your way when you sighed, so you made it a point to do it again. Nothing. You sighed again, nothing. Again, still nothing. You exaggerated it even more and finally he slowly dragged his eyes to you from his paper, brows raised. 

“Oh, hi, didn’t think you knew that I was here.” You said. He gave you a pointed look and then his attention went back to the papers. 

“Did you actually need something or were you just trying to get my attention?” He asked, moving around papers. 

“I need your attention.” He snorted and you frowned. 

“Glad my loneliness is funny to you.” There was no humor in your voice now. He recognized this and looked over again. 

He sighed, “come here.” You got up from the couch to walk over to him. Once you were at his side he brought you down to his level to place a kiss on your lips. Nothing too naughty, just a plain old simple kiss. You would still take it. 

“Look, I just need to make a few more calls and then I’m all yours.” You huffed out a laugh. You should’ve known he was just trying to give you a little something so you would stop whining. 

Before he knew what was going on, you snatched his phone off the table and walked away. 

“Hey, sweetheart, come on. Give it back.” He got up from the chair. You couldn’t help but but be bitter that he got out of the chair for his phone but not for you. 

“Why? Texting other women?” You knew Nick would never cheat but you liked to give him a hard time, he deserved it. Especially now. 

“No, look through it all you want but I need it back.” You ignored him and walked into your bedroom. He followed. You laid down on the bed and opened his phone, immediately opening up a game Zara had downloaded on it. The music of the game filled the room.

“Are you serious right now? Quit messing around, I have work to do.” You sat up but started playing the game. 

“You’re off today.” You said as you tried to get the monkey jumping from one tree to another.

“I still have a case. Give me my phone.” He reached his hand out. You sighed and slid off the bed, walking over to him. 

“You want me to give you back your phone?” You asked and then ran past him, “make me!” 

You heard Nick swear under his breath and then follow after you. You ran to the living room and stood behind the couch, he now stood on the other end. 

“This isn’t a damn game.”

“Aw, but, Nicky, you love games. First one to make a noise loses? You love that game because you know I lose every time because I just can’t help myself.” You bit your lip at the memory of the last time you and Nick agreed to it. You had lost as soon as he started to eat you out. You were getting yourself worked up from the memory but Nick didn’t seem phased at all.

“So that’s what this is about? You’re horny? I don’t have time for this.” He shook his head and tried to come around the couch but you simply went around too. His jaw clenched and he sighed. 

“You don’t have time for me?” You asked carefully. 

“I don’t have time to fuck you every time you’re begging for it.” He got louder as he said the words. They only stung because you knew he was trying to hurt you, trying to humiliate you for wanting him. You shook your head and threw his phone on the couch. 

“Maybe I’ll just go find someone who does have the time.” You walked down the hall, wanting to go back to your bedroom. You thought maybe he’d give in at your little game. But to no avail. You felt defeated, and just...sad. Sure you wanted the sex but you just wanted him to pay attention to you for one god damn minute. 

“What the hell did you just say?” Nick asked and then came right after you, following you back into the bedroom.

“You heard me.” You wouldn’t actually do it. You loved Nick more than life itself but if this was going to continue, where did that leave your relationship? 

“So because I won’t fuck you you’re going to go cheat on me? Are you that desperate?” You turned around to face him.

“You’ve barely even looked at me this month.” You crossed your arms. 

“Oh my god. You know I have other important things to worry about than you, right?” Your brows rose as you took in his words.

“Sorry, don’t let me stand in your fucking way. I’m not just something you can put on the back burner and come back to whenever you feel like. If you have other shit on your mind and have no room for me, than what the fuck am I even doing here?” Maybe this stemmed from more than just this one incident. Nick was notorious for honing in on his work or family problems and pushing you to the side just to be background noise. Like working while having the tv on, you knew it was there but you don’t look up till hours later or till something catches your attention. 

“That’s not what this is. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.” He ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head. 

“You didn’t answer my question. What the fuck am I doing here?” You lifted your arms, pleading. 

“You’re here because you love me and I love you. You know that.”

“Do I? Because it doesn’t feel like it.” His face turned solemn, no doubt at the realization that you weren’t messing around when you essentially suggested that you were going to leave. 

“You have to know that I love you. I love you like crazy.” He grabbed your arms in his hands. 

“You don’t yank someone back and forth like this when you love them.” Your heart was heavy. This conversation had been a long time coming. 

“I…I’m not trying to. That’s not what…” You say nothing, just waiting for him to find his words. 

“I’m sorry that I’ve been doing that. It was never my intention to treat you like that. I don’t mean to push you to the side, I didn’t even know I’ve been doing it.”

“Because I’m always here waiting like it never happened.” He nodded at your words and swallowed. 

“Please, I’ll fix this. I’ll do better, I swear I will. I love you.” He grabbed your face in his hands. 

“I love you.” He repeated. 

“Then show me.” You needed him. You needed his hands roaming your body and his mouth on yours. You needed to feel him again. There was still more to talk about but right now you just needed him.

He wasted no time pressing his lips to yours. It was harsh and rough, your lips bound to be swollen. He backed you up against the bed and that’s when you started pulling off clothes, both yours and his. 

“No, like this, come here.” He said before you could lay down on the bed. He sat down against the headboard, legs open for you to sit against his back. You were confused but did as he said, having no doubt he’d give you what you needed. He brought you to lean back against his chest and then he opened your legs and put his legs over yours to keep them open. You whimpered at the cool air meeting your center and at his hard member against your back.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.” His hands slid up from your stomach to your breasts, taking them into each hand, massaging them. You moaned as he pinched your nipples, playing with the buds. You felt yourself getting wet embarrassingly fast. You couldn't help yourself though, it had been a month. 

“Mmm, I love having you like this.” He pulled your head back to rest against his chest, allowing for him to start playfully nipping at your neck. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been showing you how much I fucking adore you. You’re so damn gorgeous. I’m an idiot.” You couldn’t argue there. 

He continued his ministrations with one hand, slowly dragging his other hand down your stomach and to the place you needed him most. He didn’t tease, fingers gliding through your folds. 

“Oh, Nick.” you bucked into his touch. 

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive.” You usually weren’t right off the bat like this, but it had been awhile since it had been his hands down there instead of yours. 

“It’s been awhile.” He tensed at your words but it was gone in an instant. 

“Never again.” He promised. His fingers rubbed your clit, making you gasp. He then started to tease your entrance before sliding in a finger, and then another. 

“Nick! Yes, just like that.” You cried out as his thumb brushed against your clit as he curled his fingers inside of you. You couldn’t control your hips very well as you started rolling them. He didn’t falter, his thumb swiping across your clit faster and faster, bringing you closer to that release you so desperately craved. 

“I want you to come on my fingers. And then I’m gonna make love to you. Gonna make you feel good, preciosa.” You whined at his words, wanting everything he was saying and realizing that you were gonna get it. 

He continued to alternate rolling your nipples in between his fingers. Pinching hard, knowing just how you liked them played with. He licked up your neck and then nibbled on your ear. You were slowly coming undone. You were a knot, tightly tied but slowly being pulled apart. 

“Come on my fingers. Come and I’ll give you what you want.” You were done for. His fingers still brushed against your clit as you arched your back and caved in. The knot finally snapped as it came undone. He drew out your orgasm as he continued his assault on your center. Eventually, you finally let out a breath as the feeling washed away, relief at your release taking over. He pulled his hand away and sucked his fingers into his mouth. 

“Damn, always so sweet.” Is all he said before he was moving you. He gently placed you on the bed to his right, untangling his legs from yours. Then he turned you so you were laying on your side. You let him move you. He pressed right up against your back.

“Want you like this. Want to hold you while I’m inside you.” You moaned at his words. His length was poking you in the ass and you felt him stroking himself a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. 

“Nick, please.” You pleaded, needing him inside you already. You felt that same rope, coiling back into a knot. Calling you to untangle it again.

Nick slowly pushed himself inside you, not stopping until he was all the way in. You were throbbing and you knew he felt it as he bit your shoulder. 

“Fuck, so tight.” He slid his arm under your neck to then wrap it around your chest, placing his other arm around your stomach to bring you back into him as he started thrusting. This new position had you tasting heaven. Flushed skin against skin as he held you in his arms. As he thrusted inside you, pushing you towards another release. 

“God, Nick. You feel so good. Fuck, it’s so good.” You whimpered as he ground into you. 

“Your pussy feels so good around my cock. Want you to come again for me, sweetheart.” You held on tightly to his arms, thrusting your hips back into him. 

“Need you to come inside me.” Your words had him nipping at your shoulders and placing sloppy wet kisses there and to your neck. 

You were a moaning mess at each roll of his hips, at each lick to your skin. You were consumed with love, consumed by him. You felt so full of him and it felt like home. You missed it something terrible. Not just this sinfully sweet pleasure washing through you like waves, but his hands on you, letting you know he was there and he was with you. He was focused on you. 

“Nick…” You started to warn him as you felt that coil tighten in your lower belly. 

“I know, baby. Me too.” The moment he slid his fingers down to press on your clit, your climax slammed against you. You squeezed around him as your orgasm took over your body and he cursed before he was yelling and spilling into you. His thrusts working you both through the aftermath. Your head was fuzzy when you came down, already half asleep. 

“It’s okay. Rest, my love.” He didn’t make a move to pull away, only to wrap the covers around you both, him still inside you. 

“I love you.” Is the last thing you heard before you succumbed to the sleep dragging you under. You were content and safe in Nick’s arms. You felt at peace again and you knew it would last this time. 

[ichayalovesyou]

Hey so from your blog I understand you are neurodivergent? Correct me if I'm wrong. If you are, sometimes I wonder if I have Asperger's Syndrome. When I look back on my childhood there are some questionable aspects that I got over, I think, but with a lot of effort. For example I used to watch the same movie over and over again till I had big chunks of it memorized and I played it in my head when I went to sleep? And I was obsessed with puzzles, I did and redid them many times. And lots of repetitive things. Also I don't know if I was just being sensitive or something, but I always cried at the tiniest disapproval of adults.

I'm sorry if this comes off as stereotypical, but those are things my peers found weird and not actually "normal" and it was pretty hard for me to get over them.

Lol I don't even know where this is going, I guess I'd like to see some insights from a neurodivergent person, because I've never had the chance to interact with one. How did you figure out you were neurodivergent? Can a person on the autism spectrum learn to communicate effectively with other people on their own? (because I think I can do that, but it's not always a pleasure haha).

Feel free not to respond to this, I don't want to bother, but you seem..... Approachable😂. I'm not one of those people who self-diagnose through an internet quiz and try to make themselves appear special....You know the ones. I'm genuinely curious haha. I'm probably fine, it would still be interesting to see your response. Thanks.

I’m going to be perfectly real with you

I do not have an official diagnosis for anything aside from “generalized anxiety” but I only got the chance (until very recently) to get therapy for a year.

But I do feel like there’s a difference between wanting to feel “special” and going into self-diagnosis territory half-cocked. And looking at your life, tallying up the evidence, making an educated guess, and then making an effort on finding out whether or not you’re guess is correct from a professional.

For instance, in my case (I’m about to get into “tragic” backstory stuff just to give a clear picture):

I come from an emotionally abusive situation in which, even when I had teachers, pediatricians or other moms suggest I (at the very least) had ADHD my mother got offended, denied it and insisted I was fine. In fact, the only way in which she has treated my as any sort of neurodivergent is the “generalized anxiety” diagnosis I got from the six months of therapy I got 7 years ago. Even then she uses it as a tool to invalidate my feelings. She never considered it may be a symptom rather than a source until my baby brother got diagnosed with autism.

My family has a loooooong history of autism/adhd and other mental illnesses, all of my siblings and cousins above the age of 3 have one or both, I also wouldn’t be surprised if my father has autism and my mother has ADHD even if they went undiagnosed from the same stigma that kept my mother from getting me help (and only getting my younger sibling help when essentially forced by the school system.)

It was only really when my brother exhibited behaviors and got an autism diagnosis (and my mother and I started reading up on the topic) that I realized just how many of my behaviors were associated with textbook autism. I looked at my baby brother and I saw myself, the biggest difference between us is that I was hyper verbal (talking a bit before 18 months) and he was totally nonverbal until he was almost three (both of which, are symptoms of autism) that I really considered the possibility. Even my mother suggested I may be right, better late then never I guess.

I exhibit many of the exact behaviors you describe that are associated with both adhd and autism, I lined up toys, I drew the same picture on one sheet over and over. I take comfort in compulsively watching movies and shows over and over, I (for lack of a better words) stim sing and use movie quotes and references as eccholalia as stress relievers (especially in new social situations). I cried at the drop of a hat, when I was angry I’d repeatedly hurt myself by banging my head and arms against the myself or walls. I also do the “happy flappy arms” when I’m excited or nervous, I have a special interest in writing and making music (I have a hard time thinking about pretty much anything else). I had lots of trouble socially until about high school and none of my friends are neurotypical (or straight lol). So, I think it’s safe to say that I am either on the spectrum, have ADHD (which exhibits a lot of similar symptoms).

When I found this out, I started treating myself like I had these things instead of beating myself up for being “weird” and my mental health improved significantly. Mind you, it’s still not great because I am not (yet) in therapy and live in an overcrowded, emotionally abusive household, but I am making concerted efforts to remedy both. I’ve got my first therapy session in almost a decade arranged for next week and plan on moving in with another, less crowded, less abusive parent.

The best thing I can suggest is, read up on what you think you may have, look at the symptoms, compare them to you’re own, write it down, write how you feel about it. But more importantly read other people’s experiences with autism and ADHD, while medical professionals can help you get access to diagnosis and (if you need it) medication, sometimes the personal aspects get lost in the machine. At the same time of course be careful who you listen to, there are a lot of organizations and people out there who want to “help” by trying to force us to act “normal”, acting neurotypical does NOT equal living to enjoying your life to its fullest potential. On the flipside there of course people out there with and without diagnosis that will promote unhealthy thinking patterns and coping mechanisms, you’ve got to think critically and decide what is best for you.

Not all of us can get therapy, not all of us will get diagnosed even if we do, especially if you’re AFAB and have autism, or if you’re “well behaved” (ie pass as neurotypical) we slip through the cracks all the time. Try to get therapy anyway, a diagnosis can be really helpful (but in the case of autism it can also be detrimental because of the sheer amount of ableism around it, again, read other people’s experiences).

It’s okay to act on the idea that something is wrong, you know when something isn’t right with you, not even your parents can define that for you (I learned that the hard way). As long as you don’t wallow in it, operating under the assumption you have autism and/or adhd, using the tried and true coping mechanisms, being gentle with yourself, can be very, very helpful.

Hope this helped <3 💚🖖🏻💚

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

@theeyethatbinds​ Girl SING IT. SING IT LOUDER FOR THE GIRLS IN THE BACK, SWEAR TO GOD.

Like I’m gonna be real wit y’all I was looking forward to le Comte for a while, but I was always side-eyeing Jeanne. He’s a blunt hermit and grump and 100% mood, so I hoped his route would give me more insight into how I feel about him.

Ladies. When I tell you. It was EXCELLENT. I mean there are so many gr9 routes in the game, I don’t want to take away from them, but there was just something about his that hit me so hard???? (MY KOKORO BROKORO)

More under the cut since his route won’t be out for a little while (we still got Isaac, then Theo, then Jeanne), as a little treat. As usual, pls don’t read if you don’t want spoilers, thanks!

Okay so going into this route I was fully expecting the big sads. I mean, if history has taught us anything it was that Joan D’Arc was a badass but good lord, that doesn’t mean the people of her time were kind to her. (I need to do more thorough research on her, so if I’m getting any of her pronouns wrong or neglect something, I do apologize.)

That being sad, I was like aight DECK MY SHIT WITH TRAGEDY, JEANNE. And at the beginning it’s p fascinating. He’s very ornery and resistant to any kind of consideration or attempts at friendship MC extends. But eventually, after a good deal of persistence, he relents little by little.

I’d also like to level with y’all for a sec. Being someone who knows a great deal in regards to the kinds of mental and emotional shit Jeanne struggles through, I think they handled that part of the route so, so well. Granted, I’m not the kind of person to launch a crusade over different writing styles--but for me it just feels all the more poignant when it makes sense; when certain dispositions or trauma are conveyed with that depth. To me, it made 100% sense that Jeanne would be so against accepting other people into his life immediately.

He and Mozart vibe because they’re so similar, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s comfortable letting just anyone in--much less a complete stranger. I think it’s more that Mozart and Jeanne share a kind of indelible bond/mutual recognition through their talent, actually. They were both prodigies, absolute geniuses in their fields (military vs. music) but their social skills were shot to hell for the very same reason. To be brilliant--beyond one’s potential posthumous legacy--tends to mean being hated. Plus, they’re both principled to absolute extremes. When they’ve decided on something, they will not waver. They’re stubborn and austere, but behind those walls lies a molten core of sensitivity.

This is important to understanding him, I think, before I move forward.

While one could argue that their reaction is a result of that deficiency of emotional and social support (which I entirely concede does contribute to the matter at hand, it shouldn’t be overlooked) I think the real crux of the matter here is control. Think about it. Among the oldest residents in the mansion (let’s say that were born more than 100 years within the range of the present period of the game) are Mozart, Jeanne, Isaac, and Shakespeare. What do they all have in common?

Extremity. For Mozart, it comes in the form of a kind of OCD, as perfectionism. For Jeanne, it is generalized anxiety and PTSD. For Isaac, it is primarily social anxiety--but it’s still noticeably severe. And Shakespeare runs around with a knife, insecurity through the roof, literally unable to trust anything or anyone (psychosis? schizoaffective? I’m really not sure, these are all ballpark assessments based on the evidence I have). In order to adjust to their new surroundings, there was a cost--and in some ways their coping mechanisms become noticeably maladaptive. They were born into eras that were mercilessly unpredictable, and the only way they knew how to cope was to was to either take the blame--make it a personal failing that tragedy struck--or try to immerse themselves into their craft. They all seek to regain some kind of control (this is even visible in Vincent, to a degree--painting was an escape from his emotionally turbulent world).

Granted that’s not to say that the others don’t struggle with such issues at all, I just feel like the characters from more unstable time periods tend (as a general trend) to mirror that instability within their personalities.

All that being said, (I apologize I am a tangent-monger and love meta), Jeanne’s self-imposed isolation is only partially caused by the above dynamic. Yes, he is unwilling to let people into his heart for fear of betrayal. (It’s almost like an entire nation clamoring to watch you burn for something you didn’t do after spending your entire life and talents trying to protect them would do that to you, but I digress >:| ). But there’s another devastating and potentially less obvious reason for keeping people out.

He thinks he deserves it.

Loneliness, melancholy, aimlessness. These are all the punishments that he incurred on himself after a life of what he conceives to be considerable sin (hahaha battlefield enemies go ripppp). Whether or not he was operating purely out of a sense of duty, even if he felt sympathy for his enemy combatants, it’s not enough. And the condemnation of his king, of his entire nation, only served to magnify that self-loathing to a dangerous degree. (Don’t get me started on his parents I’m still so angry >:| they more or less disowned him since he was constitutionally weak as a young boy, and thus could not serve as an adequate farmhand. Don’t work? Don’t eat/live).

It’s hard enough living in a reserved way because you’re afraid of getting hurt, but to think that you deserve it when hurt finds you, no less? And my favorite part, that he’s so profoundly sure that it is an extension of a personal, fundamental failing? That for a person to survive, they must be strong, that there can be no other way--that there is no time or space for ruminations on fairness or unfairness, there are only those who manage to survive and those who die.

Now my friends, esteemed comrades, legendary sluts. Is that enough for us, Cybird asks, are we feeling enough pain quite yet? Fuck no.

Most of his route after we get over the hurdle of his hesitation is just him. Being. Bashful and gentle as all FUCK. Like he is the definition of “I'll kill you, but also I’m babie.” For instance, she insists on teaching him how to read and write at night when she finds him trying (and not succeeding) to read “The Ugly Duckling”. Yes I mean the children’s book. I CRIED THE FIRST TIME AND I’M CRYING NOW. So, naturally, MC buys him a notebook to practice with and he puts his name in big letters on the front. When MC sees this, she asks him about it--wondering why he would given he’s so self-conscious of his own writing (boy writes all squiggly like a little kid because he’s never done it before ;-;).

The scene goes a little something like this:

MC: Wh....whatcha go there Jeanne? Jeanne: ? My notebook? MC: I...mean that you wrote your name on it? Jeanne: Yeah? MC: Why? Jeanne: ._. It was a gift from you, and I figured it'd be hard to practice if I lost it...so I put my name on it... (HE WAS SECRETLY TOUCHED I BET AND IM--) MC: Why such big letters? Jeanne: So people can spot it quickly, obviously MC, inches from crying and laughing: Jeanne: Mademoiselle??? Why are you laughing? MC: Because you’re cute, Jeanne!

Like. They start out so rocky and Jeanne is so SIGH. I guess I’ll agree if it’ll get her to stop looking so sad and ask me to join her for stuff. But then he just can’t help but go full softe at how patient and kind she is, starts feeling comfortable just...being who he is deep down. A man that’s always hoped for better in life, a person that only ever takes up his sword to protect--that has an incredibly pure and clear heart, despite so much pain.

And good lord, they are GOD TIER romantic slow burn???? Swear to everything holy, I was BEGGING for them to make out by like chapter 10, I was just suffering for most of the route until the bangarang premium. Here’s probably my favorite moment in the entire route:

Basically Sebastian and Mozart pull out all the stops trying to bring Jeanne and MC together (once they see Jeanne show some interested in her). And so Jeanne asks her to join him in the courtyard the next morning, and they’re playing with Cherie (Jeanne’s pet baby white tiger). Besides being ungodly adorable--because Jeanne invited her for the sole purpose of hoping to see her delightfully surprised--Mozart begins to play a love song nearby. They don’t name the tune, but Jeanne canonically starts singing along (I wholeass cried, I WANT TO HEAR HIM SING????). And so she asks what the song is about, and he explains that Mozart once played it for him, but he couldn’t make out the words at first. Mozart explained that it was a love song that speaks to the difficulties of being in love (the worry, the strife) but also the beauty of the intensity and passion. He goes on to say that even when he learned the words, it never made much sense to him back then--it never resonated.

He’s singing softly with a fond look, and so she asks, does he understand it now? And he looks her dead in the eye, and says “...I think I’m starting to.” Like. AM I SUPPOSED TO NOT LOSE MY MIND AT THE TENDERNESS????? WHAT A SMOOTH MOFO????? MAN RAISED TO BE A SOLDIER, NO KNOWLEDGE OF ROMANCE OR WOMEN, AND KILLS ME IN MILLISECONDS?????? I DEMAND JUSTICE. (Or it’s just me thinking sincerity is the best aphrodisiac, but that’s beside the point.)

This has been your quarantine 2d boy meta and yelling, provided by your local mod Minnie. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to get to the things I’ve been procrastinating on while reliving/dissociating about one of my favorite rts in the entire game. Stay safe and well out there y’all, peace out!

[back-and-totheleft]

‘There’s still a presence out there reminding people not to speak about JFK’s killing’

Oliver Stone is not a fan of “cancel culture”. “Of course I despise it,” the Oscar winning filmmaker says, as if utterly amazed that anyone needs to ask him such a dumb question. “I am sure I’ve been cancelled by some people for all the comments I’ve made…. it’s like a witch hunt. It’s terrible. American censorship in general, because it is a declining, defensive, empire, it (America) has become very sensitive to any criticism. What is going on in the world with YouTube and social media,” he rants. “Twitter is the worst. They’ve banned the ex-President of the United States. It’s shocking!” he says, referring to Donald Trump’s removal from the micro-blogging platform.

It’s a Saturday lunchtime in the restaurant of the Marriott Hotel on the Croisette in Cannes. The American director is in town for the festival premiere this week of his new feature documentary JFK Revisited: Through the Looking Glass, in which he yet again pores over President John F Kennedy’s assassination in November 1963.

“I am a pin cushion for American-Russian peace relations… I had four f***ing vaccines: two Sputniks and two Pfizers,” Stone gestures at his arm. The rival super-powers may remain deeply suspicious of one another, but Stone is loading himself up with potions from both sides of the old Iron Curtain.

He has recently been travelling in Russia (hence the Sputnik jabs) where he has been making a new documentary about how nuclear power can save humanity. He also recently completed a film about Kazakhstan’s former president Nursultan Nazarbayev which – like his interviews with Vladimir Putin – has been roundly ridiculed for its deferential, softly-softly approach toward a figure widely regarded as a ruthless despot.

Dressed in a blue polo shirt, riffing away about the English football team one moment and his favourite movies the next, laughing constantly, the 74-year-old Oscar-winning director of Platoon, Wall Street, Natural Born Killers et al is a far cheerier presence than his reputation as a purveyor of dark conspiracy thrillers might suggest. He is also very outspoken. For all his belligerence, though, Stone isn’t as thick-skinned as you might imagine. I wonder if he was hurt by the scorn that came his way when his feature film JFK was released in 1991.

“I was more of a younger man. It was painful to me,” the director sighs as he remembers being attacked by such admired figures as newscaster Walter Cronkite and Hollywood power broker Jack Valenti for listening to the “hallucinatory bleatings” of former New Orleans DA Jim Garrison when JFK came out. “It was quite shocking actually because I thought the murder was behind us. I did think there was a feeling that 30 years later, we can look at this thing again without getting excited. But I was way wrong.”

Garrison, of course, was the real-life figure portrayed by Kevin Costner in the film; he was the original proponent of the theory that the CIA were involved in the killing of the US president, after his 1966 investigation. Garrison wrote the book On the Trail of the Assassins, on which the movie was partly based.

Even the director’s fiercest detractors will find it hard to dismiss the evidence he has assembled about the JFK assassination in the new documentary. Once I’d seen it and heard him hold forth, I came away thinking that only flat-earthers can possibly still believe that Lee Harvey Oswald shot President Kennedy all on his own. It’s that convincing.

Stone blitzes you with facts and figures about the Kennedy killing and its aftermath. At times, he himself seems to be suffering from information overload. “I am sorry. There are so many people,” he apologises for not immediately remembering the name of Kennedy’s personal physician, George Burkley, who was present both at Parkland Hospital, where Kennedy was first taken, and then at Bethesda, where the autopsy took place. Burkley was strangely reticent when giving evidence to the Warren Commission.

“I think there’s still a presence out there which reminds people not to speak. I’ve heard that in, of all places, Russia,” Stone says. He was startled to discover that the Russians knew all about his new documentary long before it was discussed in the mainstream press. “They said, ‘We heard about it.’ I said, ‘How?’ They said, ‘We have our contacts in the American intelligence business. They are not very happy about it.’”

Stone believes that no US president since Kennedy died has been “able to go up against this militarised sector of our economy”. Even Trump “backed down at the last second” and declined to release all the relevant documents relating to the assassination. “He announced, ‘I’m going to free it up, blah blah blah, big talk, and then a few hours before, he caved to CIA National Security again.”

The veteran filmmaker expresses his frustrations at historians like Robert Caro, author of a huge (and hugely respected) multi-volume biography of President Lyndon Johnson, for ignoring the evidence that has been turned up about the assassination.

“I can’t say [LBJ] was involved in the assassination,” explains Stone, “but it certainly suited him that Kennedy was not there anymore and he covered up by appointing the Warren Commission and doing all the things he did.”

Stone tried to cast Marlon Brando in JFK in the role as the deep throat source Mr X, eventually played by Donald Sutherland.

“I realise now I am grateful that he turned it down because he knew better than I that he would make 20 minutes out of that 14-minute monologue and it wouldn’t have worked.”

Nevertheless, he filled the film with famous faces. He thought that having familiar actors would make it easier for audiences to engage with what was an immensely complicated story.

Getting Stone to stop talking about JFK is like trying to pull a bone from a mastiff’s jaws. To change the subject slightly, I ask if he is still in touch with WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange. He is and is utterly horrified at how Assange is being treated, especially given that Siggi the Hacker, a key witness in the extradition case against Assange, admitted recently that he lied. Stone praises Assange’s partner Stella Morris as “the best wife you could ever have. She really is smart, she’s a lawyer … he has two children. He can’t even touch them or see them. It’s barbaric. It indicates America is declining faster than we know. It is just cutting off dissent.”

The mood lightens when I invite Stone to discuss some of his favourite films. He recently tweeted a list of these, which included Darling starring Julie Christie, Joseph Losey’s Eva starring Stanley Baker and Jeanne Moreau, and Houseboat, a frothy comedy starring Cary Grant and Sophia Loren. “I love films, always have. People don’t know that side of me. I could go on forever.”

Between his darker and more contentious efforts, Stone has made a few genre films himself, for example the underrated thriller U-Turn starring Sean Penn and Jennifer Lopez. He notes, though, that even when he tried a sports movie, he ended up right back in the firing line. The NFL was furious about his 1999 American Football film, Any Given Sunday. “They (the NFL) are arrogant, very rich people who close down any dissent, so I had to change uniforms and names… but they got the point.”

Last year, Stone published the first volume of his autobiography, Chasing the Light, which took him from childhood up to his Oscar triumph with Platoon. It was well received but it didn’t make nearly a big enough splash for his liking. “There was a curtain of silence about that. Maybe it is Covid… it was not reviewed by many people,” he says. “I wish the timing had been better. The publisher was terrible. They didn’t really promote anything. So now I have to start over again if I am going to do a second book, which I would love to do. But I have to find the right publisher.”

The book contains a barbed account of Stone’s experiences as a young screenwriter working in London for British director Alan Parker and producer David Puttnam on Midnight Express. “I wrote about it in the book, so you got my point of view. They were not very friendly people. I gave my criticism of Parker that he had a chip on his shoulder. He was from a poor side of the English. There is this phenomenon you see in England of hating the upper classes until they approve of you.”

No, they didn’t stay in touch. “And Puttnam is a Lord, right? He reminds me of Tony Blair. He is such a weasel.” For once, Stone feels he has overstepped the mark. He doesn’t want to call Puttnam a weasel after all. “Put it this way, Tony Blair is a weasel. I wouldn’t trust Tony Blair. Puttnam is a supporter of Blair. Let’s leave it at that.”

On matters English, he isn’t that keen on soccer either. He watched the semi-final between England and Denmark but had no intention of tuning into the final.

“Soccer is a different kind of game. It’s a different aesthetic. It is constant movement. The United States game allows you to re-group after every play and go into a huddle and so it becomes about strategy. I still enjoy it although people think I am brutal.”

Ask him why he so relishes American Football and he replies that he “grew up with violence in America … we were banging – cowboys and Indians, a lot of killing and that stuff. How do you get away from that? We weren’t playing with dolls.”

Stone’s feelings about the US are deeply ambivalent. He is old enough to remember a time in the late 1940s and early 1950s when “everything in America was golden” and part of him still seems to love the country but his mother was French and he talks about the US as a nation now in near terminal decline.

Perhaps surprisingly, his real political hero isn’t JFK. It’s the former President of France, Charles de Gaulle. “He said no to NATO and he said no to America. He understood the dangers of being a satellite country to America. You have no power in Europe. Don’t kid yourself. The EU is just an artificial body that was amazingly stupid in cutting off Russia and cutting off China too now.”

He doesn’t much like Boris Johnson either. “Boris, listen. He’d simply throw you in jail in a second.” He rails against the English for holding Assange in Belmarsh prison.

When he is not on a crusade or unravelling a conspiracy, Stone relaxes through Buddhist meditation. “Moderation in all things,” the man who came up with the phrase “greed is right, greed works” says with no evident sense of irony. He enjoys hanging out with his friends. “I have a nice life. I’m lucky,” he says before quickly adding, “I wish I had been more honoured and respected in my lifetime, but it seems that I took a course that is in conflict with the American Empire.”

Stone’s films have had relatively few strong female characters. Ask if he welcomes the #MeToo movement and the challenging of old gender norms and he gives a typically contrary answer. “It cuts both ways, though. There are reasons for patriarchy through the centuries,” he says. “Tribes tend to have a strong leader. You need strong leaders, but I do see the feminine impulse as being important, especially when situations become too militant. The feminine impulse, I’m talking about the maternal impulse not the Hillary Clinton/Margaret Thatcher version of feminism. They’re men. They’re not women,” he says. “I don’t want women in politics who want to be men. If a woman is a woman, she should be a woman and bring her maternalism. It’s a leavening influence.”

The director deplores the rush to judge historical figures about past misdeeds from a contemporary point of view. “I am conservative in that way… don’t expect to rejudge the entire society based on your new values.”

He met with Harvey Weinstein in Cannes a few years ago to discuss a potential Guantanamo Bay TV series. “At that point, maybe he knew he was on the ropes; he was delightfully charming and humble.” The project was scuppered by the scandal that that engulfed the former Miramax boss, who is now behind bars as a convicted sex offender. Stone’s gripes with Weinstein are less to do with his sexual offences than with the way that he attacked films like Born on the Fourth of July and Saving Private Ryan to boost his own movies.

“The press loved him [Weinstein]. Don’t forget, they loved him in the 1990s,” he says, remembering the disingenuous way in which Weinstein portrayed himself as the underdog taking on the big, bad Hollywood system.

“I think he robbed Cruise of the Oscar, frankly,” Stone huffs at the intensive Weinstein lobbying which saw Daniel Day-Lewis win the Academy Award for Best for My Left Foot, denying Tom Cruise for Born on the Fourth of July in the process.

Stone acknowledges his status in Hollywood has diminished. “All that’s gone. The people have changed,” he says of the days when the studios doted on him and his films were regularly awards contenders. Now, he’ll often finance his work out of Europe. He is developing a new feature film (he won’t say what it is). “Never say die, never say it’s over,” he says of his career.

Stone is based in Los Angeles and also has “a place in New York”. During the pandemic, he still managed to travel to Russia to make his nuclear power/clean energy documentary. “I got my shots over there because the EU is so f***ing stupid,” he says of the of the Europeans’ refusal to recognise the Sputnik vaccine. “It’s ridiculous, part of the political madness of this time.”

Now, he is putting all his energy into his new documentary about nuclear power. He waves away the idea that the Chernobyl and Fukushima disasters show what can go wrong – they were accidents.

“Accidents you learn from. If there were not a few crashes, how would you fly?” he says. It’s a line that somehow seems to express his entire philosophy of life.

-Geoffrey Macnab interviews Oliver Stone, The Independent, Jul 15 2021 [x]

[c-ptsdrecovery]

Reading up again on covert narcissism has been really helping me explain some things about my trauma and about my mom’s behavior. Like, I knew she was a covert narcissist, but I’d forgotten how tortuous the workings of a CN’s brain are. Some things I’ve realized, involving some quoting from the above source:

--They want you to feel a confusion between praise and shame, and to feel that you are less than them. It’s a combination of “How dare you achieve?!” and “But you’re still not as good as me.”

--Their praise contains negging. That’s why even when she complimented me, I never felt like I was good enough. Just like the time she read my dissertation and went, “It’s okay... bit dry.” She could always argue that I had myself said it was the more boring version of the dissertation, could argue that other things she had read of mine were better... But at the end of the day, I heard her intended message loud and clear: it’s not good enough.

--Her praise at required times (like telling me I did a good job after a school concert or something) always felt less sincere than my dad’s and I could never figure out why. Well, it’s because deep down she 1) resented that I did well, 2) resented that I had the attention in that situation, and 3) wanted to tear down my self esteem so I would see her as better than me, and so that she could more easily manipulate me in the future

--You can never do things well enough for them. They always have to do things better than you. That’s why I was never good enough at chores, especially cooking and dishwashing. That’s always why she came up with ridiculous reasons to be angry at me every time I brought her my credit card receipts. When she could no longer argue that I was spending too much or that I didn’t give her all the receipts, she began to complain that the receipts were slightly crumpled along one edge! HEAVEN FORBID!

--They refuse to acknowledge your accomplishments. They want you to KNOW they’re not impressed. ...This really explains why she intentionally (and uncharacteristically) tied up the phone line around the time I would finish defending my dissertation so that it was 45 minutes before I could get through to tell her I passed. Because she was jealous that I was getting a PhD and she wanted me to know how little my achievement meant to her. Her jealousy of my achievement was also why her worst abuse began the week I defended (and continued for three years afterward!)

--Mom used to argue that she thought well of my achievements by telling me how she was always bragging about me to her friends. Likewise, she would tell me constantly about how her friends said nice things about me to her. But these things were not about me: they were about HER. She was using MY qualities and achievements to build up HERSELF, not me. If these things had really been self-esteem building for ME she wouldn’t have said anythign about them, because she had a vested interest in me not thinking well of myself.

--I had an absolute COMPLEX about NEVER acknowledging my own achievements or qualities--to the point where I can’t take compliments or ring my own bell AT ALL because it feels SO WRONG--because the cardinal sin of our family is to think well of ourselves. We’re only supposed to think really well of HER.

--They want you to feel unimportant and small

--They want you to know they don’t care about your time or your feelings

--No one’s time, wants, or needs matter except their own

--I still get super anxious when my mom is upset about anything, because her feelings were always my problem. She expected me and everyone else to be entirely focused on her feelings when she was upset, so even if they weren’t my fault, I was made to feel that they were my fault.

--She apologized to me once for being so cold and unloving and cried at me. I said cried AT me because the only reason she was apologizing (because she’s PERFECT; why would she apologize for anyting??) was to make me feel guilty for suspecting her of being cold and unloving, and also to get attention and narcissistic supply from me as I comforted her (which I am proud to say, I did not do). She turned it from an issue of “daughter’s feelings were hurt; let’s focus on her” to “Mom is upset; let’s focus on HER”

--They demand you abide by their wishes. Even when they don’t express them to you. I was always expected to read her mind. The fact that I couldn’t was more evidence of how I wasn’t good enough.

--She forgot me at the bus stop once, and forgot REPEATEDLY to pick me up at school after practice. She had to walk a fine line between “i’m the perfect mother” and “i want you to know that you don’t matter to me/ how dare you require that i put myself out to pick you up?”

--they ostentatiously volunteer to show what a good person they are (teaching Sunday school, joining the library board, working for Christ Among Neighbors)

--she’s extra-sickening on Facebook. “Birthday blessings be upon you, (name)!” because she wants people to know how great she is

--they want to gaslight, manipulate, and confuse you in order to destabilize and manipulate you

--”You’re so sensitive”. Even though they’re obviously the most fragile ego in the room! they can take ANYTHING as an insult! you have to GROVEL to make them believe you’re saying something nice! (this is just a way to get you to say a lot of nice things about them)

--that time i told her i was feeling suicidal and she SIGHED and ROLLED HER EYES and said, “do you need to talk to somebody?” like I was ruining her evening. She wanted me to know how little she cared about my feelings while also saying just enough to have plausible deniability later if I told her her response hurt me (”but i tried to get you help! what do you MEAN my tone of voice was mean?? you always take things the wrong way. I think you hear insults where there aren’t any.”)

--They want you to feel that your emotions, which are inconvenient to THEM, are a negative part of your psyche and a reason that other people won’t like you. They want you to feel that they are in control of their emotions,and their emotions are always right, while yours are not.

--they make you feel small and stupid for needing emotional support. THEY’RE so independent! (except when you have to stroke their egos...)

--they ignore their “loved ones” (no wonder I felt so alone as a child. even now i’m DYING for attention. when other people get attention/praise for things i know i can do as well or better than them i’m TORN because i want other people to treat ME like that, but i can’t draw their attention to myself because that’s so WRONG. and also if i DO get their attention, then i can’t take the compliments anyway.)

--they don’t need to praise others because they’re so obviously superior!

--i was always uncomfortable when my mom sang. i always felt like she thought she was SO GOOD a singer, when she was only mediocre. it always felt icky to me listening to her sing or play the flute.

--they get angry when you’re sick. GOD, that explains SO MUCH. The time i kept nearly passing out and ended up just lying on the kitchen floor because every time i sat up i felt woozy again and i asked her to make me a sandwich because my low blood sugar was part of the problem and she was clearly ANGRY and COLD and didn’t say a WORD to me as she made me the sandwich. like, your daughter is unable to get off the floor, and beyond one, “are you okay” there’s absolutely NO care there. it’s no wonder i write so much hurt/comfort wherein someone is sick and the other person Notices and Cares for them... it’s wish fulfillment!

--they’re condescending.

--they forget about your requests on purpose. she’s always buying me just slightly the wrong thing for christmas and birthdays.

--i showed her some very artistic self-affirmations i wrote once and she started disagreeing with all the nice things i said about myself. because how dare i have self-esteem when SHE was there?

--they make people fight each other. kinda explains my brother and me and our undying enmity...

--they project their own issues onto you. that’s why she tells me i’m always so angry and that i hurt people a lot with my tone of voice. and that i’m oversensitive.

--they give you the silent treatment and make you beg and plead. 

--they never try to make you happy (or if they do, it’s only for show. like buyign you SLIGHTLY  the wrong thing, over and over again. plausible deniability. “i TRIED! i was being GENEROUS! how DARE you nitpick my presents!”)

--they intentionally ruin special days for you, especially birthdays. because they resent you being the center of attention. i remember the first time she let me have a birthday party with friends instead of older relatives (she always invited my aunts and uncles to my birthday parties instead of people my age because SHE wanted to be the center of attention at the parties, not me. the parties were for HER, not for me.) at this child’s birthday party, she organized all the games and ran them all and was very much the center of attention. the only thing i really remember from that party was the game she created and led entirely.

--they don’t really know anything about you. GOD, how very true. neither of my parents have a fucking clue about my personality, my tastes, my interests, or my sense of humor. they know about them on an EXTREMELY surface level. “oh, she likes cats. she did ballet for years. she likes trees.”

--the reason mom got mad at me when i cried as a child was not, as she told me many years later, because she was upset that she was unable to comfort me adequately. The problem was that SHE wasn’t in the spotlight. she was required to pretend to care about MY feelings. She couldn’t comfott me adequately because i sensed that she was mad about me crying, rather than loving me and having compassion. she sent me to my room when i cried so i wouldn’t be the center of attention--and also to punish me for being so.

--i’m scared of spending money because mom 1) made me feel guilty for spending money on myself, because everything should be about HER [seriously, i got seriously scolded once for buying things for myself on a shopping trip instead of ONLY buying xmas presents for the family]. 2) made me scared about our financial situation because she wanted to have money for herself first and foremost for what SHE wanted. Thus her and Dad scaring the ever-living SHIT out of me last summer about finances and then turning around and buying themselves iphones.

--i’ve always felt so alone because subconsciously i always knew mom didn’t love me, even though consciously i made myself believe it. and of course i could never know if dad did, because even now, it’s a pretty fuzzy issue (which basically means he doesn’t. le sigh)

you know what? i’m going to get out that art project of self-affirmations and add some shit to it about being able to see through other people’s bullshit. because GODDAMN, i deserve a fucking MEDAL. i’m not going to let her negging make me continue to feel bad about those affirmations. because she’s just full of shit.

[sammyswaywardbabe67]

You’re mine, Sam Winchester- SamxReader SMUT

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word count- 2960

SMUT WARNING ⚠️

If there were one thing in this world that was true, it'd be that you, Bria Everley, were completely in love with Sam Winchester.

Not that he noticed you, not at all. You'd, been with the Winchester brothers for several years at this point, and you'd loved Sam since the first moment you saw him. Every attempt to flirt was treated as a normal friendly exchange. You couldn't tell if it was because he just didn't like you back, or because he just was so oblivious that he couldn't tell, but you could see how it could be confused. It's not like you'd ever done anything major to flirt. Basically, just a simple touch here and a small smile there, or making sure a task he needed to be done was finished before he asked you or before he could get to it.

"You are big dumb, Bria. This is stupid. Either it works out and he finally gets the point, or things are about to get real awkward around here." You say quietly to yourself and the empty air, staring yourself down in the big mirror hanging against the back of your bedroom door; gearing yourself up for what could possibly be the stupidest idea known to man.

Long, black hair stretches down your back, stopping directly at your pale hips. Bright blue eyes contrast beautifully against your milky, smooth skin. You drag your attention to the rest of your body, turning to the side and then back to face the mirror. Your breasts weren't too large, but they weren't small either. They sit perkily against your chest, the evident chill in the air causing your rosy nipples to harden. You run your hand over the side of your not so flat stomach and over your slightly protruding hipbones.

"It's now or never." You tell yourself with a small sigh, grabbing the door handle in front of you and giving it a turn; pulling the heavy wooden door open. You take another deep breath, leaving the sanctuary of your tidy room and stepping out into the open hallway. Every step you take is calculated and you whisper small encouragements to yourself with each one. How could one hundred steps down the hallway to Sam's room feel like forever?

You could feel yourself trembling with nervous anticipation as you take your baby steps.

"B-Bria? What are you doing?!" The shocked, almost terrified voice asks from behind you. You clench your teeth together in an embarrassed smile and turn to face The older Winchester brother, covering your most private areas in the process. "Um, Dean. Hi." You say with a nervous chuckle, "I'm uh, you know, well, Sammy, um..." you stutter, suddenly unable to make words flow from your brain to your mouth. You look to the floor hoping Dean would take mercy on you. He and Cas were the only two who had any idea of you liking Sam for this long. "Uh-huh. I get it, um, okay. I'm going to bleach my eyes and pretend like this never happened. You go ahead with the, uh, Sammy thing. That'll work for you, have fun." Dean says, quickly turning back into his room and pushing his very confused boyfriend back with him. "Don't go Cas, you don't want to know."

A burning sensation spreads across your cheeks, and you're sure your face is as red as blood. The embarrassment adds some pep to your step, and you almost jog the rest of the way to Sam's room, wasting no time to throw the door open quickly; just in case anyone else were to catch you walking completely nude through the bunker. To your surprise, his room was empty. Almost on cue, as you close his bedroom door behind you, the connected bathroom's door swings open from across the room and out walks the taller, younger Winchester.

He was clad only in a pair of plaid pajama pants that sat entirely too low on his hips. It was mouthwatering and you think you could eat him up. The way that delicious V cut its way to his groin sent shivers up your spine, and you wouldn't even delve into what the rest of his toned body did to you. Sam's jaw dropped slightly as he took in the sight before himself. "Um, Bria...? What are you-" "Sam Winchester, I have to tell you something." You cut him off, feigning confidence, your hand resting on your hip. Sam twitches an eyebrow up with curious interest, his eyes flitting down over your naked body once again.

You wrap both your arms around yourself, all your confidence suddenly gone, but you look at the floor and begin speaking again. "I-um, I like you, Sam. No, I love you. I love you and I have since I first met you. I've been trying for so long to get you to notice me, and I'm not sure why you haven't. Maybe my signals aren't strong enough or whatever, but I've been sending them for a long time and I want to just put it out there in a way that you couldn't ignore." You pause for a moment, looking for your next words, but before you can speak Sam's voice fills the room.

"I definitely can't ignore this, Bria." He says gently and your heart drops. You're positive he hates what he's seeing, there's a reason he hadn't picked up on your signals, you knew this was a stupid idea but you'd put yourself through it anyway. Now, you'd have to deal with the awkward tension until you could look him in the eyes again.

Any words you had planned before were gone now. You felt stuck to your spot, unable to move, naked and vulnerable to Sam's glare. You were so stuck in your own thoughts, you hadn't heard Sam walk across the room until he gently placed two fingers under your chin and pulled your chin up to meet his stare. "Bria, are you okay?"  He asks gently, his bright hazel eyes boring into your own pools of baby blue.

You let a sigh and chewed down on your lip, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. Anxiety shoots through your entire body, an electric fire spreading through your nerve endings. "You hate me now don't you? You were ignoring me on purpose because you didn't actually like me, am I right?" Sam looks shocked that you even spoke those words and shakes his head slightly. "No, Bria, not even." He says with the softest tone, bringing his face down to brush his soft lips upon your own.

The kiss is gentle, exploring, testing the limits until your hands reach forward; feeling the soft skin of Sam's torso. Sam turns you slightly and walks you back into the wall, his lips still moving against your own. When your back presses against the hard surface, Sam pulls away, a small whimper leaving your lips as you struggle to come down from the high you managed to get from the taller man's kiss.

"Bria," Sam says, grabbing your attention. "You beautiful, silly girl. I've always noticed you. I was only scared to make a move because I didn't want to hurt you, or have you not feel the same. I really do love you too, Bria. Can I just... Can I show you how much I do?" He says gently, running his hands down your sides and resting them on your hips. You tremble beneath Sam's touch, thankful for him and the wall being the only thing holding you up because you knew your legs would fail you in that moment. "Please." You manage to whisper and Sam lifts you up the wall, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he attaches his lips to yours again. This kiss is far hungrier than the last.

You slip your left hand into the younger Winchester's hair and you drape your other arm over his shoulder, loosening your legs enough to dip down and graze your most sensitive area over Sam's obviously growing erection. You had to let him know what you wanted, no, you needed this now. Sam gasps into your mouth at the sudden contact, and you decide to take charge of the moment; slipping your tongue past his lips. He takes it well and quickly asserts dominance in the kiss, pushing you further into the wall before suddenly turning away from it; his arms protectively wrapping around you before he drops you onto the bed behind him. All in one motion he pushes those already low pajama pants all the way down and steps out of them. Oh man, he was huge! You hadn't been with anyone that big, well, ever, and you weren't exactly sure how he was going to fit inside you.

Sam notices your nervous stare at his erection and he chuckles. "Don't be nervous, baby, it'll fit. Trust me." He says and you're even more surprised he's just called you baby. He slips back into the bed with you, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips; a shiver runs through your body as he presses another kiss to your sweet spot. You feel a slight wetness trickle from between your legs. How could someone feel so turned on by someone, and so in love with them all at once?

Sam begins trailing kisses down your chest slowly, pausing a moment at your breasts. He takes one sensitive bud into his mouth, grazing his teeth against it as he releases it. A small moan escapes your lips as he begins moving more kisses down your torso. He stops at your bellybutton and sits back to look at you, the sheer love and concentration in his eyes made you wetter than before. Sam trails his eyes down your body slowly and you press your thighs together for some sort of friction. When he notices, he lets out a small groan. "Bria, you're so beautiful. What did I ever do to deserve someone as perfect as you." He says gently and a heavy blush covers your cheeks. "Can I look?" Sam speaks again, placing his hands on either of your legs. You feel butterflies in your stomach, but you give a quick nod and he pushes them apart; a small gasp parting his lips as a pink tint covers his cheeks.

Gorgeous hazel eyes meet your own for a moment before Sam looks back down at sight before him. He trails his hands slowly down your thighs, chewing on his lip slightly as if in thought. "Is everything okay?" You ask him gently, nervousness filling your tone. "Yeah, everything's perfect, baby. I just, um, can I taste you?" He asks, bringing his eyes up to yours again. The question itself was so hot it took your breath away. You couldn't imagine how much more intense it could get, but you wanted to know. "Do it." You whisper and that's all the permission Sam needs before he leans forward, licking a thin stripe up through your folds. You let a small whimper go at the contact and he takes the invitation to keep going, immediately attaching his mouth to the small bundle of nerves. Your lower half jerks as you yelp in surprise at the contact. Sam lets out a low chuckle, going to work on the masterpiece beneath him. You let out a string of moans and curses as he slowly slips a finger inside you, and then another, slowly working you open for what would come next. You tangle your fingers in his soft hair and you feel your hips buck against him as you slip closer to your escape, but suddenly he pulls away from your heat completely; sitting back on his knees impressed at the flustered mess you became because of him.

You felt a little frustrated at the lack of contact, but before you could say anything Sam grabbed your thighs; pulling you closer by your legs, a small yelp escapes your lips and a giggle follows soon after. "Are you sure you're ready?" The taller man asked lovingly from above you. "If I have to wait any longer, I might explode." You answer back and you honestly believed you might. A small smile covers Sam's lips and he leans forward, giving you a short, but sweet kiss. "I'll go slow, okay?" He says and you nod as he pushes back up on his knees for a moment. Excitement and passion flow through your body like electric waves and suddenly he's pushing himself inside you with a slow groan. A moan escapes your own lips as he bottoms out. "Whoa..." Sam manages to breathe out and he laces his fingers with your own, pushing your hands above your head and holding them there. You wrap your legs around Sam's waist as he starts to move inside you slowly. Slow waves of pleasure roll over your body again and again and you ache just to feel Sam's firm back under your hands, but he holds them steady above your head.

Steady moans slip with every rock of Sam's hips against your own. How did you ever get lucky enough to have this gorgeous god of a man? He was everything you'd ever needed or wanted and somehow he wanted you back. You couldn't believe how lucky you were to have him in general, much less actually be making love to him.

Sam releases one of your hands to run his own down your side, and immediately yours finds it way to his back. You dig your nails in at the next wave of pleasure which causes him to buck his hips a little harder and a loud moan rips through your body. "Oh, you like that?" He says shakily, snapping his hips into yours a little rougher than before and you pull your other hand from his grasp. A string of loud moans and nearly unintelligible curses flow smoothly into the room as you rake your nails down Sam's back. He hisses through his teeth and presses his body closer to yours, still keeping his pace.

You feel a familiar tightening in your stomach and allow another loud moan to rip through you. "Sammy, I think I'm gonna-" "I know, Bria, me too. Hold it." He cuts you off, his thrusts becoming quicker and seemingly deeper as he chases his own release. Small groans slip his lips repeatedly with every thrust and you cling to Sam's toned body as you feel yourself letting go. Just as the loud, almost screaming moan signifying your release escapes your small body, Sam buries his face in your neck; letting out a long low moan as he fills you deeply with his warmth. He gives himself a minute to compose and slowly pulls out, rolling next to you.

A small disbelieving laugh rings through the room, and you only realize it was from you after you see Sam is giving you a confused look; both of you out of breath. "I, um..." You trail off letting your head fall back against the pillow of your lover's bed. "I honestly just never thought I would get anything like that. I mean, you, Sam. I never thought you'd want me like I wanted you. I was completely serious about what I said before. I do love you Sam Winchester." You say gently, moving against the side of the man you loved and placing your head on his chest.

His hand finds its way to your hip, tracing gentle shapes over your warm, milky skin. "You know, it's crazy, Bria. I feel the same. I harbored all these feelings for you for so long in fear of hurting you or being hurt. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I wish I had." He says before falling into a comfortable silence. You feel so in love in this moment, you can't help but stare over the younger Winchester's features. You ingrain them into your memory. You didn't know what you'd done without him before, but now that you had a taste of him, there was no way you were letting go. No way you'd spend another day without this handsome, perfect man. You knew from this moment on, you'd do what you had to for Sam Winchester and you hoped that he felt the same as you. Electricity still flows through your nerve endings, a mixture of true happiness, excitement and disbelief still that you'd gotten the one thing you'd been wanting for the last few years.

Him.

"Bria?" Sam nearly whispers, pulling you closer to him. "Yes?" You reply, making yourself comfortable against him. "Just wanted to let you know you're not leaving this room without being mine."

"I wouldn't dream of turning you down, Sammy. On that note though, uh, Dean kind of caught me in the hall on the way. How am I getting back to my room?" You say, blushing at the thought of being caught again. Sam stifles a laugh and dramatically composes himself. "I guess we'll just move all your things in here, and you can stay like this forever." You roll your eyes at him, but deep down, you hope he's being serious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N- So I just did that. Whoa, okay. My first smut, guys. I hope you like it, I know it's not perfect, but I tried my best on it, be kind and gentle, but feedback is accepted. Requests are still open guys, whatever you want!

[gevejsbvdj]

Fine. Pt 1

Okay. I did NOT want to do this. I don’t want it to look like I’m trying to start something. When I made the announcement post, I thought that would be it. But a lot of you got really angry and reeeeally bitter about it, suspiciously enough. I am actually hoping that after I post this, I get an explanation and an apology. I tried to explain to these people time and time again about how I was hurt by this situation but they refused to listen. So here I am, spelling it the fuck out. Also, this account is dead anyways and i am so tired of keeping this to myself. I can’t do it anymore. 

That’s enough preamble for now, I’ll make more notes at the end. Let’s get onto the “situation” that was the final straw for me and inspired my complete leave. 

For comprehension purposes, this took place in the Crackerbox Palace discord server. 

For a warning, I’m pretty theatrical when stressed. If I joke here I’m sorry. I’m going to hold back on the humor. 

CW: mentions of sexual abuse, pedophilia, racism, and seizures. You have been warned.

It sounds disgustingly simple, but when I joke about this (to myself, because it’s better than crying about it), I say that me having a seizure was the cause of this all. It isn’t really, but- let me explain. 

I was alone, and I was chatting with the people in the server when suddenly- I just felt fucking weird. Initially, I was like “oh what the hell” until I realized that the weird sensation was actually familiar. It’s what people who have seizures call an “aura” or a “ting”, and it’s a numbing, buzzing sensation that’s kind of like an alarm bell that lets your body know what’s about to go down. And I have a habit (you can decide whether it’s good or bad) where I feel like I have to tell anyone around me that I’m going to have a seizure as SOON as I recognize the aura. Well like I said, I was alone. There was no one physically around me that I could tell, but I already had the chat open, fingers on my keyboard, I typed: I think I’m gonna have a seizure. Something like that. And I did. Don’t worry, I’m fine now. The older I get, the less extreme my seizures are for the most part. I got a splitting headache for the next two days, but we’re getting it checked out! This is only context for what happened next. 

After that happened I eventually came to and as soon as my senses were recollected and my memory came back, I felt so embarrassed that I told my friends who I thought were super cool that I had a SEIZURE. But I noticed that Ley and Emma (in their genuine concern) were discussing seizures and how dangerous they could be, and was wondering if I was okay. I was honestly so relieved they weren’t laughing or anything like that. Vulture then responded saying “hey can you censor the word seizure, it’s a trigger.”, and so Ley and Emma did so. I was confused by this because I thought Vulture was saying it’s MY (me, a person who has them regularly) trigger, or that they were saying it was a trigger in general? I soon found out that it was a term on our “blacklist”, which makes sense.

So In our server, we had a channel (the prior mentioned blacklist channel) where people can suggest words and phrases to avoid. Phrases/topics that make you very uncomfortable, triggering, etc. Someone suggested that the name “Zack” be blacklisted because it’s the name of someone that manipulated them. And no, not Zach like me Zach, but Z-A-C-K, you know? Anyways, sometimes the sheltered southerner in me jumps out, and someone asking for that name to be blacklisted rocked my world! Even more so that the admins I worked with were willing to blacklist it. I thought, wait all this time I could have asked you all to blacklist a NAME that upsets me? I didn’t know I could do that. Never have I ever been in an environment where something like a name could be avoided to ensure my comfort. While THAT was what I was thinking, when I went to type it in the chat, it did not come off that way to vulture. Here’s what I said:

Vulture took what I said wrong, which is totally fair. Words fail me as they do everyone else, and looking back, I could have done better in explaining what I felt. I’m not blaming them for the misunderstanding, and I'm not even blaming me that much. It happens, man. But what got to me, was them accusing me of belittling or more so INVALIDATING the trigger. Me, someone actually has seizures, invalidating someone being triggered by them. Okay. Here was my response:

My response was unnecessarily snarky and I am still sorry for that. I thought I got better at thinking before speaking but it’s evident that it’s still something I need to work on. However, like I said I’ve never been one to accept it when someone’s trying to have an attitude with me. And no I’ll be the first to say that Vulture wasn’t explicitly rude to me, but I was gobsmacked that someone was trying to tell me how traumatic seizures are and accused me of invalidating them after I just said that I have them frequently. And that even after I explained what I meant, I was still met with an accusing response. Can you imagine if I went up to a homeless man and said “you have no right to invalidate my trauma with homelessness. I read matchbox girl.” Like okay? Also, yes that mod chat had a history with taking everything I said as aggressive or belligerent, hence my telling them to stop that. I was always met with a dismissive and antagonistic response. Remember that. I will get back to that. 

Because of Vulture’s immature response, I removed them as chat admin. Do I regret it? Halfway, yes. I should have pulled them to the side and spoke with them about what they did. But looking back on that, after seeing the things they’ve posted today? It’s probably for the best that they weren’t a part of the admin team. 

Andy (also known as shadowylemon here) and Cody are partners who also helped me run the server. They were admins,obviously. Andy asked me why I removed Vulture as Admin. I explained to him why, very civilly with the help of one of my friends because my response almost WASN'T. And to be frank, I ignored most of what he said because again I was being made to be the evil villain and I wasn’t being heard. So I ignored him. Also I was on a call so I wasn’t going to break my brain listening to ten people at once. I was so tired, my seizure happened like only a couple days prior and my head was still affected. 

I mulled over that whole ordeal for a bit until me and my friend (the same friend I mentioned earlier, who helped me with my response to Andy. Lenny. He also helped me mod there and was the original co-founder of the server) came to the conclusion that the mods were too young. We need an age limit. So I told them, like “hey you guys are fine for now but I think that in the future, we should start having the mods be older”.

 At this point I’m super careful with the way I word things. I’m always like that to be honest, as a black (visual-wise, a female) female you learn real quick that you’re the angry one in every situation unless you learn to talk super duper civil. But I didnt think I had to be that way in THAT server, you know? I thought I was safe there. Apparently not. Anyway-

I was met with, again, an aggravated “how dare you” type response from Cody. Which was okay with me, still is. When you work with someone in a group, you’re not going to agree with them all the time. So we were having a pretty civil, short lived back and forth until I mentioned that we tone it down on blacklisting every word. I suggested earlier to blacklist the word “blue” to see how far they would take it and they literally blacklisted it. I didn’t get to say this then, but I’m actually against over censoring, even if it’s supposedly for someone’s mental health. I have ADHD, RSD, on the damn spectrum, all that good stuff, so don’t come for me. But if you’re wanting to avoid words like blue, or a very common name, that is not my responsibility. That is your therapist. The server had people in there who- well English wasn’t their first language, and adding more barriers to their language is, I feel, very inconsiderate.

 Cody started to threaten to delete the blacklisting channel all together and was acting really panicky. AGAIN (if I can find the screenshots, I will share) I was met with a very victimizing, whiny response. Like come on now. I told them to please do not make me the aggressor or I will leave.

No response. 

So the rest of us were just getting ready to start a call and play some games until we noticed something. 

Channels, titles and colors, and nearly everything was being deleted. 

By who? Andy and Cody. This is just one screenshot. I wouldn’t include what’s over ten i have saved on my phone.

I was afraid that they got hacked and was being made to delete them. Until I thought “wait...it’s funny how they’re the only mods that are being ‘hacked’ while the rest of us were left alone. RIGHT after I just had a disagreement with them. Oh my god is this a tantrum.” The server then echoed my concerns. Please don’t be a tantrum. We noticed they left and so I dmed Andy. I said “Why” and he blocked me. That confirmed that it was indeed a tantrum. A tantrum because I IMPLIED that they were being micro aggressive towards me. Alright. 

Me and the server joined a sort of conference call where we discussed what happened and they asked me questions as well as talked about what our next move was. At the time, I thought I was being dramatic because my breathing was super labored, and my face was super hot, and my heart was pounding. I was furious. There was a tiny voice telling me that ‘hey, you’re mad because after you told them that you were uncomfortable and upset with them treating you like an unhinged angry person, they did all this shit’ but I ignored it. 

That is a common theme with me. I know a lot of you think I’m using my race as a weapon and that I call everything racist, but I HATE calling things racial discrimination for that exact reason. I don’t wanna look sensitive, or get called a snowflake. I honestly used to be a self-loathing black person, and you could hurl slurs at my face and I’ll excuse it. My friend group in the 9th grade was mainly racist white people. I’m so glad I grew out of that nonsense but damn some of that toxic mentality stuck with me to the point I never wanted to acknowledge when someone was biased against me. 

I mean, how could it be any more clear? Do I think that Andy and Cody are racist? Of. Course. Not. I think that’s why a lot of you got so mad at me when you realized that what you did was microaggressions rooted in racial bias. Because you thought I was calling you a RACIST.  I’ve had white people who will march with me during protests say and some really off-putting shit the next day. You can be an ally and make mistakes. You’re not perfect. I’m not perfect. None of us is. You have to allow yourself to make errors, and be confronted. Running away cursing and kicking rocks just tells me that you don’t want to listen to black people. 

But anyway, we attempted to move on from the childish ordeal and I enlisted the help of new people to help me mod since we were short two, and could have used the help anyway. 

We were doing alright, really. One day, though, Joane messaged me saying that Vulture wanted to apologize and wanted to talk. And I was like great now's the perfect time to talk to them like I should have the first time, but wrongly didn’t. So I told Joane to dm me. 

Well, Joane sent me a screenshot of some of hers and Vultures conversation.

As you can see I initially did feel willing to apologize and speak to vulture. Because like I said earlier, my snarky response was UNNECESSARY. However, Joane joining in the discussion with her “I can’t understand him which frustrates me lmao” peeved me. As did Vulture acting like I’m unhinged. While I didn’t need to make the “imma blacklist lmao and lol since it bothers you so much” comment at ALL, it wasn’t that deep….at all. Vulture has a habit of virtue signalling too. Their comment “I’m patient and forgiving” is an example. 

While I was annoyed initially, I soon felt pretty hurt that Joane would say that about me behind my back? It made me wonder if there was more she didn’t show me. Joane was a really good friend and I loved her a lot so I was extra sensitive about it. I’ve never spoken ill about her behind her back. 

Now, this is a recurring theme in this post but let me say now: I am aware that no one is OBLIGATED to treat me a certain way because I was nice to them. Of course not. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt? Talking negatively about someone isn’t a problem, but having them think you’re their friend while doing so is. You know? It’s very deceiving, but in Joane’s case, only slightly deceiving. 

So I just didn’t speak to her for a bit. I was already annoyed at having to re-build my server because of a couple of teenagers having a tantrum, as well as things that were happening in my personal life. Also, the news was no damn help at all, you all know. But I didn’t speak to her for the rest of the day and I...I hated it haha. I don’t like avoiding people when I’m frustrated, and after I saw what happened with Vulture when I did the same thing, I should know better. Plus I felt bad. Joane was still a friend, and I wanted to get to the bottom of things. 

I’m not going to include every little screenshot and whatnot, but I messaged her like hey what’s up let’s finish our discussion. Because I thought that at that point, I had my head screwed on a bit better. 

During our discussion, I eventually showed Joane me and vultures conversation, and she acted astonished that Vulture didn’t show her all the context, and even said that they were being irrational. This was after I told her that after everything Andy and Cody did, they made a server with Vulture to which she informed me that she was aware, and she was invited. Honestly, at the time I didn’t think vulture was being irrational. While I said it’s no excuse, PTSD can make us say and do pretty wild things, and calling someone like that irrational feel like ableist language. 

So me and Joane had a little moment. I apologized to her, and she apologized to me.

I was sure that after we both had our respective breaks, that we would be good to continue our friendship like normal. Just a bump in the road. It happens

That was until I got a certain anon from Vulture. 

She asked me why we were done, but when I went to ask her “what in the world did you say to them” she blocked me.

Sorry I keep showing me messaging them, I just don’t wanna get lied to or something again. 

I was really sad about that. I went to bed, and when I woke up, I was still sad. Joane was telling me one thing, and Vulture another thing. She was changing her opinion on a person depending on who she was talking to. It was dizzying and disingenuous and I didn’t even get to talk it out with her because she blocked me. Which was really suspicious. She told me that she would be taking a break from the server and that she still respected me as a friend, but went to vulture and told them that I treated her like SHIT, or at least acted enough like a victim to make them accuse me of that. I’m sorry, but where in the world did I do that? If me confessing to someone that they hurt me is the same thing as treating them like shit, then fuck man a lot of us are assholes. 

Wow, look at me treat her like shit. Absolute garbage right?

I wasn’t even being completely honest to Joane about my feelings for that reason. Because of accusations like this. Another instance of someone taking literally me being normal and civil as being AGGRESSIVE. Vulture, I’m sorry for accusing you of utilizing white girl tears. I accused the wrong person. But that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. 

I went to our #vent channel on the server and told whoever was online and whoever was listening about the whole ordeal, and how HURT I felt because I was literally played by this girl. And I was accused of basically being abusive. Treated her like shit? Cmon man…

But another user in the server, as it turns out, had a similar experience with Joane, and provide in-depth screenshots. Which made me even madder, so we kept venting about the situation. 

Also, because of a couple of dms, and because the more I ranted, the more pained I got, I felt compelled to say the following, NOW LISTEN CLOSELY:

I first prefaced my concerns by saying “I AM BY NO MEANS CALLING JOANE A GROOMER”. That was fucking useless of me to say because- okay I’m getting ahead of myself. 

So I was saying (and in hindsight, I shouldn’t have. I know. But like I said, it was in the heat of the moment and I got a dm that made me feel bad) that it was strange how as soon as someone young and innocent was present, Joane would cling to them in an obsessive way. I’m not the only one who noticed that, and even one of the younger users in question agreed to my statement. 

Listen fucking closely. I don’t think Joane is a sexual predator at ALL. That’s why I had that warning before I said anything in the chat. I do, though, think that if you’re a grown adult and you’re obsessed with being friends with people who are as young as 14, that it’s concerning, not in a sexual way, but in a power dynamic way. I’m only 19 and I honestly don’t get older people who become besties with much younger people. I was “friends” with the users as well, but I was a mentor/brother/dad more than anything. Do you understand? When I was 15, I’ve had people who were 20 and older become my friend and dump their adult problems onto me, as well as expect adult reactions and responses out of me. It was stressful and damaging and I did not want that happening to anyone else, especially the younger people in the chat. Okay? Okay. 

That being said, my protectiveness is a major flaw of mine. Oh my god, do I take it too far sometimes, man. I didn’t want really young teenagers (13-16) to have a serious relationship with an adult because of what happened to me, and I didn’t want Joane to play and hurt anyone else the way she did me and my other friend. So I went into the announcements channel and told the users to read what we’ve been saying in regard to Joane and come up with your own decision. I did not have to do that, I can sit here and say that the things that transpired the past few days really took a toll on me whatever blah blah blah. But I could have kept it in vent, really. And the dumb thing is, that before I sent that message in announcements, I was literally telling myself that THIS is a bad idea. GOD, Zach. But I was at work, it was the last day before holidays started, and I was feeling super protective and I wasn’t thinking and- well yeah. 

During all of this, I was having a conversation with vulture in Tumblr dms. I gathered the courage to finally dm them after receiving the anon. That conversation was on my old Tumblr, so I don’t have a screenshot of the key points, but I typed my starting message in notes, and this is what I said:

“Hi vulture. I don’t want to be here for long but I just wanna ask: why? You accused me of invalidating a trigger and even after I told you that’s not what I meant you still went off on me? You’re mad at me about an inaccurate perception and it really upset me. I’ve been terrified of talking to you specifically because I’ve been dealing with micro aggressions from you, Andy, and Cody and it’s really been wearing me down. And when I told Andy and Cody about their treatment of me, they deleted shit from my server and leave? How do you think that makes me feel as a black person? Makes me never want to talk about my feelings ever again out of the fear of being antagonized. I’m sorry I was snarky towards you, if you didn’t like my remark about “lmao” and “lol”. I agree it was immature. But don’t forget you came at me first. If you’re willing to further discuss this with me then great, which I am sure you are seeing that you asked me to on anon. I finally gathered the courage to contact you so let’s do this.”

We had a brief conversation. Vulture dismissing my microaggressions concerns but really- it happens so much that at that point I was so numb to it. Also a little bit “it’s not about your race. Remember when I…” more virtue signalling. Bleh. But after all, I did thank them for actually wanting to talk to me. Andy didn’t wanna do it. Cody didn’t wanna do it. Joane didn’t want to. Vulture did. And I appreciate that to this day, after everything. I can always admire that about someone. 

It ended prematurely because of me. I was at work and got distracted by that as well as by what happened in the server next. 

Emma sent a pretty long message basically calling all of us out for “bullying Joane” and talking ill of her behind her back, as well as announcing that she would be leaving the server and that we should all be ashamed of ourselves. This was right after someone confessed that Joane made him feel uncomfortable with constant flirting. I admitted that I should not have put the message In announcements, but guys.

I went off. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I was sick of trying to be docile and sweet. I didn’t care if I would be portrayed as the angry black again I DID NOT CARE. Bullying Joane? Me talking about how she hurt me is bullying? Let’s look up what that means. 

Yeah okay. That’s incorrect usage, right? I didn’t even call Joane names. I didn’t persistently harass her. I spoke about what she did to me in distaste, but I was done with her as a friend at that point, and she knew that, so was not going behind her back. I wasn’t being predatory towards her. And I definitely wasn’t being AGGRESSIVE or BLUSTERING. Emma was using broad pronouns and terms (you guys, you all, etc) but I knew she was talking about me, as I was the most prominent in my venting about Joane due to my situation with her happening just yesterday. I sent the most messages, I- while wrong in doing so- posted the announcements. That message primarily was directed towards me. When I say that microaggressions tear you down, it tears you THE FUCK down. 

That being said, I did cuss Emma out (she wasn’t present when I went off, but still) and cussed out everyone who agreed with her. I was so blinded by rage and hurt I don’t even remember at all what I said. One line that sticks out to me though is “y’all saw a white girl crying and thought oh man we can’t have that” and that’s a mantra I’ve repeated a couple of times when I find myself in scenarios such as this one. 

But- I do regret going off like that. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t justified slightly, though. I don’t expect any of you to understand completely what I went through, but please try. I regret going off like that, though. And I’m sorry. 

I guess I was also upset because I was JUST in a good mood? I was literally singing to myself all happy and shit, but Emma’s inconsiderate message threw me off. It’s making me even more upset now that I know why she said that. She wasn’t the only person to tell me I should be ashamed of myself for manipulating (yes, MANIPULATING) Joane. 

I dmed Emma in an attempt to fix things, but i gave up quickly. I was too raw with emotions anyways. So I mournfully told her that we probably should’t be friends anymore, to which she responded

Carelessly?...ouch.

From the moment Joane dmed me about Vulture, and the moment Emma sent that message, all of that transpired within three days. Three fucking days and THAT much happened. It was taking a toll on me, that’s not even counting Andy and Cody’s tantrum. 

I was in a dark place, still am. I made a post saying that I was going to take a break from Tumblr and then made one saying that I was going to kill myself in the tags. Not exclusively because of all this, of course. So. Much. Bullshit. Happens to me on a daily basis. Abusive parents. Sexual assault. Racism that’s actually violent. Dying relatives. So much. I’m crying as I type this it’s just so much. In real life, I have no friends. Not even fake acquaintances. Yes, I cut off all those people because they were extremely toxic, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have literally no one. That server was my escape. Parents fighting? Open discord. Mental spiral? Discord is there. Just had a seizure? Don’t worry, you have friends. And now I don’t. And all because of some dumb shit that wouldn’t probably have happened if two kids didn’t get mad at ME because THEY were ignorant. I know it’s not good to rely on a server to improve your mental health, but I couldn’t help it. I was desperate. And I really did think so highly of everyone in that chat. I loved them.

I received a couple asks that night saying that I don’t have to hurt myself, I’m loved, all that. Very kind messages. And right when I was going to delete the post (I was so embarrassed for posting it), I got a message from ley that read something like “I don’t agree with what you said at ALL but that doesn’t mean I want you to kill yourself or leave” something along those lines. I thought, really? You couldn’t just say you didn’t want me to leave and have it at that? 

I really don’t want to make it seem like I posted something so graphic for attention, man. I can’t stand that manipulation tactic and I don’t want that harmful stigma about suicidal people to be encouraged. 

But Ley’s message threw me off. Agree with what I...huh? Then it pissed me off

So I deleted my account. And fell off the face of the earth for 15 days. 

[screechthemighty]

FR Octane is 100% one of those characters where I can see all the building blocks of WHY he behaves the way he does, but also acknowledge that his behavior is...Bad, it’s not great. And guess what, I accidentally wrote an essay about it if anyone cares! (Listen, I paid a lot of money for an arts degree, if I can’t over-analyze everything then that money was wasted, humor me) ETA: also if you’re thinking of dragging me for this post, please read this first and consider not doing that.

 We’re going to be looking at two big aspects of his character for this analysis. One is more subtext than actual text, but since all the evidence is there (and, if how they handled Wattson’s autism is any indication, will likely never be canon regardless of all the evidence) we’re just going to treat it as canon for the sake of argument. The other one is paracanon which, to be fair, isn’t as canon as “evidence actually in the text”, but again, for the sake of argument, we’ll treat it as such.

Fact the first: Octane, most likely, has ADHD. From the way he behaves, I’m assuming it is either undiagnosed OR he was never adequately taught how to manage his symptoms. The most relevant symptoms to this discussion are his seeming overreaction to Lifeline teasing him (Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria being a common ADHD symptom), his persistent and VERY canon inability to handle boredom, and his equally persistent and canon poor impulse control (especially related to the boredom but in this case it also goes hand in hand with the previously mentioned RSD).

Fact the second: He grew up in an emotionally neglectful and dysfunctional home--his dad had multiple re-marriages (and lbr, probably was cheating on his current wife with the next wife every single time), he was raised more by an assistant who didn’t care to learn his wants and needs, so on, so forth. IMHO, this fact does explain both his larger than life personality AND manipulative behavior. If he stands out and acts out, he gets the attention he craves. If he’s manipulative, he can actually get what he wants/needs from the uncaring adults in his life. He behaves badly because of childhood trauma.

So, with all of these facts in mind, here’s the sequence of events:

Octane is relegated to a task he considers painfully boring (keeping in mind that boredom is one of the worst sensations for the ADHD brain). He is forced to stay in said task by an authority figure who doesn’t listen to his input about what he’d rather be doing or what tasks he might be better suited for.

On top of that, he is teased by someone he considers a close friend (practically family by his own admission) in a way that a) makes light of the situation he finds uncomfortable and b) compares him to an “accountant”, something that is anathema to what he wants to be. Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria kicks in; the comment becomes genuinely hurtful and not just slightly unfunny but well-meaning ribbing.

His intolerance for boredom says “no, we’re not doing that task anymore, let’s go do the fun thing.” Poor impulse control and no buffer to mitigate the effects of poor impulse control say, “the first thought to pop into my head is right, let’s get that dopamine!”

His manipulative tendencies say, “If I make a big fuss, do something stupid, and let Ajay know it’s partially because she was mean to me, then she’ll understand that she hurt me and feel bad about it.” Unresolved trauma means that he doesn’t even THINK to communicate that to her, which would be the HEALTHY thing to do but likely not a method that has ever worked for him in childhood. Instead, he leaves an emotionally manipulative letter and peaces out. 

As of right now, we don’t know what the ULTIMATE outcome is (my money is on him getting his ass kicked TBH). But the IMMEDIATE outcome is that Lifeline feels responsible for something that isn’t her fault and now she and Gibraltar are both going to be put at risk of getting hurt. Octane has also put himself in a position where he’ll probably be hurt. This isn’t going to end well, is what I’m getting at.

NOW. Here’s the thing. The two facts I listed up above are not his fault. Him having ADHD? Not his fault. Him not getting the right help he needed as a child? Not his fault. Him growing up in a dysfunctional environment that had a negative impact on his emotional and interpersonal development? DEFINITELY not his fault. Everything about his behavior based on those two facts makes sense, and I’m not gonna sit here and act like he’s a bad person for being a neurodivergent abuse victim.

But, to paraphrase the very smart Jessica “How to ADHD” McCabe, it may not be his fault, but it is his responsibility--in this case “it” being how he treats other people, which is very much within his control. I get WHY he did it, but he IS being an absolute ass to Lifeline for the second time (that we know of), and that IS wrong. He HAS to learn at some point to not be like this. It’s already temporarily lost him a friendship, and it COULD get him or someone else killed this time around. He’s a grown adult, and despite my/the fandom’s jokes, he does have all his brain cells. At some point he’ll have to realize he can’t treat people like this and adjust his behavior.

To be fair to Octane, I completely understand and acknowledge that getting help and admitting to the things clogging up your brainspace is incredibly hard. Trust me, I have firsthand experience with this one, and my problems are small potatoes in comparison to what’s going on with him. So he’s not necessarily a bad person for not having taken those steps, especially because I’m still not sure he REALIZES he has a problem. Now, if he knew that he was hurting people and continued doing so because “that’s just who I am, they’re the ones who are wrong, actually” against all evidence, then that IS him shirking his responsibilities to other people and himself and I could criticize him for that. But I don’t think he’s at that point yet. Right now he just seems oblivious, which, yeah, we’ve all been in that position where you’re oblivious to your problems even as they’re slowly burning your house down (I cringe looking back on childhood me exhibiting early anxiety symptoms that went unchecked until now, when I’m well past college age).

I also think it would be helpful if someone told him in a CONSTRUCTIVE manner that his behavior is worrying and was able to help him get to that place where he can realize that himself and get help (not saying they should bear the majority of the emotional weight, AM saying that he seems like he needs the extra help and that’s valid, all things considered). Unfortunately...pretty much everyone in Apex Legends is their own flavor of messed up and they ARE in the middle of a crisis, so they’re likely either unable to see it or unable to help because y’know, lot going on.

In conclusion: I say none of this to demonize Octane? I say it because a) I think his character is really neat, flaws and all, hence me referring to him as a “problematic icon”, and b) because I think it does a disservice to his character to ignore his flaws. I don’t want him to be turned from a complex character with a lot of neat stuff going on to an uwu tortured sad boy who’s never at fault. I haven’t seen anyone do that YET (everyone seems to love him for being a trash baby and that’s valid), but, y’know, doesn’t hurt to start the conversation preemptively.

(QUICK sidebar that I didn’t think of until I was tagging his: his privilege as a rich child from a rich family definitely is a contributing factor to his behavior and another stumbling block to him getting help for a lot of reasons? I won’t go into all my thoughts on this because that could be its own essay but tl;dr Rich People often don’t believe in consequences as it is and don’t like to admit to being wrong, and some of this definitely wore off on Octane and is exacerbating the rest of it.)

[imagine-loki]

Greatest Fears

TITLE: Greatest Fears CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 3 of 3 AUTHOR: MaliceManaged ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s wife suffering a terrible nightmare and him soothing her after it. RATING: T? Probably? I mean, if you got this far, you should be fine. NOTES/WARNINGS: This is an older fic. I meant to post it here when this imagine popped up, and then completely forgot to because I am great at planning. Since I’m going through my files trying to rekindle the muse, I figured I might as well post it now, y'know? XD

I… forgot to submit this chapter. I have failed this city.

__________________

    After the initial shock and bemusement over the news that she now had a personal slave in Amora had waned; Samantha had smacked Loki upside the head for being so rash, kissed him for his intent to defend her, and then punched Amora hard enough to knock her to the floor for messing with her head. Loki was surprised at that last one, as she had never been one very prone to physical violence; he inwardly decided that Amora’s torment would be even worse now for rattling his wife that much.

      “I really must say, Sam; rage is a… surprisingly good look on you…” Loki practically purred; wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and drawing her earlobe between his teeth, tugging it slightly, before kissing his way down to her neck, “Perhaps we could put it to more… productive use…”

      His intentions were two-fold: He did want to calm her; as long as he’d known her she had been very self-conscious about her superhuman strength, and he knew that she would feel terrible about herself later if he let her lash out like that again. But there was also a part of him that wanted to flaunt his very healthy marriage in front of Amora, to further drive home her failure.

      Samantha pulled away from him slightly. “This is hardly the time,” she replied and looked pointedly towards Amora, who was watching them with a mixture of anger and disgust as she got back to her feet.

      Loki scoffed. “You didn’t seem to mind when I took you in that very public park in Midgard last year.”

      “That was different,” Samantha said quickly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, “Nobody saw that.”

      “Or maybe you were just too preoccupied to notice,” Loki teased.

      “By the Norns; you are depraved,” Amora spat, looking very much like she might throw up.

      Loki laughed darkly. “You don’t know the half of it.” He grinned menacingly. “Yet…”

      “Out,” Samantha ordered, nodding her head to the doors.

      “Yes, mistress,” Amora said through gritted teeth before she turned and walked away into the next room.

      When she was gone Samantha turned around, looked up at her husband with an arched eyebrow. “Really?”

      “She started it,” Loki replied with a shrug, causing her to roll her eyes. He looked at her intently and licked his bottom lip. “I was serious with my suggestion, you know.”

      Samantha opened her mouth to reply, but he interrupted her by lunging at her suddenly and kissing her with an intensity that stole her breath away. She didn’t need much convincing after that as Loki pulled her over to their bed; and while Amora was spared from having to watch, the closed doors did very little to muffle the sounds of their passion, much to her dismay and Loki’s secret amusement.

  ***

     Once Loki had had his temporary fill of Samantha, he told her about the last thing Odin had said to him. She had been a bit surprised; in the time she had known the Allfather, he had only rarely shown his adopted son any overt regard, let alone affection. She was careful to stoke the little ember of happiness the praise had given him and told him to remember the words well, not wanting to let the king’s actual good advice go to waste; she then left the Enchantress at the mercy of her husband after making him promise he wouldn’t take it too far (she didn’t think he would, but it didn’t hurt to make sure) and went off to find her father-in-law, intending to discuss matters further. She found the king speaking to one of his generals, and waited until they were finished to approach.

      When Odin turned and acknowledged her, she commented, “You know; Loki is convinced he is losing what little sanity he still had left.”

      Odin huffed a slight laugh then gestured for her to follow him to a nearby bench; once they were seated he said, “My late wife spent most of his life telling me that I was too hard on him; that I did not treat him as well as Thor.” He paused for a moment. “It has taken me far too long to realise just what she meant by that.”

      “He has a sensitive heart,” Samantha said thoughtfully, “Which by no means makes him weak; he just… feels things more intensely.” She gave a slight laugh. “Combine that with an overactive and curious mind, a quiet disposition and a penchant for mischief; and I can’t imagine he was very easy to deal with.”

      “Ah, but I should have made more of an effort to understand him,” Odin replied, and she only barely held back the urge to agree aloud. He was thoughtful for a moment then said, “I have made mistakes where both of my sons are concerned, but at least I can take pride in the men they have become.” He placed a hand over Samantha’s on her lap. “I have you to thank for bringing Loki out from the depths of madness and rage he spiralled into. I myself would never have reached him; I was at a loss as to how.”

      Samantha smiled. “No one should have to feel that tormented.”

      Odin returned the smile and said fondly, “You remind me of her so.”

      “And I will always be honoured to hear that,” Samantha replied, knowing well to whom he was referring, “I wish I could have me her.”

      “She would have adored you.” He was silent for another moment then said, “You are a fine young woman, Samantha. I confess at first I did not expect it to be so; my impression was that you would be as dark of mind and heart as Loki, for who else would love him as he was. Instead I was faced with a soul full of gentleness, quiet strength and compassion; and a son I never thought I would see again.” He patted her hands with a surprisingly fatherly affection. “You have my eternal gratitude for helping to make my family as whole as it can ever be again.”

  ***

      By the end of Amora’s sentence she was thoroughly miserable. Loki humiliated her with the most menial of tasks (his favourites being having her change the bedsheets and assist him in his baths, which she loathed the most), and Samantha had her almost constantly running around on errands, though hers where a little less embarrassing for the Enchantress. Normally the former mortal would’ve balked at the idea of taking advantage of a situation like that, but she had been very upset over the nightmare and she figured maybe Amora would leave her alone after that.

      Amora walked up to Samantha, who was lounging on a couch in the sitting room of hers and Loki’s hall with a book in one hand and a cup of wine in the other, and placed a small stack of books on a nearby table before turning to the other woman. “Is there anything else I can do for you, mistress?”

      Samantha lifted her now-empty cup, wordlessly indicating she wanted a refill, without so much as a glance in the Enchantress’ direction. Amora swallowed her pride and anger, going over to another table and grabbing a jug of wine before going back and filling Samantha’s cup. The dark-skinned woman didn’t bother to acknowledge the action beyond taking a small sip of her drink and Amora bit back the urge to say or do anything she knew she would come to regret, resigning herself to simply standing there until Samantha told her otherwise.

      Though she would never admit it aloud, Amora greatly preferred Loki’s wife to the man himself; aside from the often exhausting amount of running around to fetch things she had her do, Samantha mostly ignored her altogether. Loki was not nearly as merciful; often toying with her by giving her conflicting instructions then berating her as though she were an idiot when she got things wrong, as well as taking pretty much every chance he could to humiliate her in public, especially when her sister or Thor were around. The worst part of it was that Loki wasn’t actually hurting her; she hadn’t expected to survive the month after Loki’s reaction to her spell, but instead she was subjected to verbal torment and embarrassment and nothing more.

      Loki walked into the room somewhat tiredly - wanting nothing more than a long bath and a nap with his wife cradled in his arms - and raised an eyebrow when he saw Amora standing in front of his wife, evidently awaiting a command. “You; with me,” he snapped.

      “Yes, master,” Amora bit out, trying not to stumble over the title, as she followed him into the bedchamber then the bathchamber beyond.

      Oh, how she hated calling him that. Which she knew was exactly why he insisted on it.

      As Amora helped Loki strip out of his armour, Samantha leaned against the doorway. “I really hope you’ve learned your lesson here, Amora.”

      “And what lesson would that be, mistress?” Amora asked; hating her current task even more now there was someone to witness it.

      In a flash Loki had grasped her chin then none-too-gently turned her face towards his. “Never try to come between Sam and me again.” He released her and waved her off. “Your services are no longer required.”

      As Amora walked out of the room Samantha walked past her into it to take her place, intending to join her husband after a week of not seeing him. After a while the Enchantress heard a bit of splashing coming from the room as well the distinct sound of moans, and decided that, yes; she had definitely learned her lesson.