#i still get a little bit afraid that people are gonna hit me when they're really mad at me and i shut down

[yardsards]

i think one of the most evil aspects of fundamentalist evangelical christianity is how it (and the general culture of those who follow it) encourages parents to treat children

first off, it treats having children as something EVERYONE should do, regardless of if they actually want and are capable of raising said children. in more extreme cases you get shit like the quiverfull movement, wherein couples are encouraged to have as many children as physically possible

and then, those children are referred to like they're their parents possessions, like they are just objects their parents were "gifted" with by god. they're not treated like their own human beings.

AND a core tenet of their religion is that humans are born inherently sinful. they think newborns, who can't even fully control their bodily functions yet, are automatically full of sin. an infant's crying for its basic needs to be met is seen as a sign of their inherent selfishness

a parents' main goal is supposed to be to "purify" that child's soul by any means necessary, the child's actual wellbeing is secondary to "saving their soul"

and, of course, free thought is discouraged in favour of obedience. they believe in a hierarchy: child < wife < husband < god. if you are to disobey the one above you, then you are considered to be disobeying god himself- even if the thing your parent or husband is commanding you not to do is not a sin in of itself. "honor thy father and thy mother"

and again, parents are taught that the best trait for a child to have is *obedience*. obedient to their parents and obedient to the church and scripture

parents are taught to force that obedience by corporal punishment. physical abuse (and yes. "spanking" is abuse. if you disagree then, well, i'm sorry that someone convinced you that raising a hand against someone so much smaller and weaker than you is anything short of abusive) is ENCOURAGED

in fact, if you DON'T hit your kids, you are seen as A BAD PARENT, who is failing to properly "train" their child, and who is dooming their child to a life of wickedness, sin, and suffering ("he who spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is careful to discipline him." or, put more simply, "spare the rod spoil the child")

parents are told to ignore their own despair and revulsion towards the idea of harming their child, and to hit them anyway. hit the kid and ignore the voice in your head that says hitting kids is wrong. remind yourself that this is for the child's own good. remind yourself that this is god's will.

you're also supposed to remind the child that you are hurting them for their own good, because god commands it. teach them that people hurting them is a good thing.

and many suggest that after you beat them, give your child comfort (comfort from the distress caused by being beaten by you, who is supposed to protect them from harm) and to give them affection (to drive home the point that hurting them is how you show love). which, if you know about the cycle of abusive relationships (tension, violent incident, reconciliation, calm) then you can see how this is pretty much a mirror image of that

it's fucking evil

look up the book "to train up a child" if you want to see this taken to the extreme. even many fundamentalists thing the methodology is too extreme, but they generally agree with the ideology/principles behind it

[brunchable]

𝐌𝐫. 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞: Stucky x F!Reader

Part Two Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader, Steve Rogers x f!reader | Daughter of Thaddeus Ross (Red Hulk) Words: 5.4K Themes: Forbidden Reader, Love Triangle, M for Mature, 18+ , Post-Endgame, AGE GAP (24y/o reader). Summary: Bucky Barnes expected another typical therapy session, but the moment he meets Y/N, a sharp and unflinching therapist who doesn’t back down, everything changes. Used to keeping people at arm’s length, Bucky finds himself intrigued by her resilience and the way she sees right through his walls. A/N: I am also obsessed with Bucky ok? I can't leave him out. I will not use "chapter" for now because IDEK how long this will be. Let me know if you want to be tagged. Ciao.

Bucky entered the therapist’s office, expecting the usual routine with Dr. Raynor. But when he saw a younger woman sitting on the couch, legs crossed, glasses perched on her nose, he froze. She was scribbling in a notebook, completely absorbed in whatever she was writing. His eyes swept over her—pencil skirt, white blouse with the top two buttons undone. Definitely not Raynor.

Raynor was a pain in the ass enough, but now they're throwing this at me? Bucky thought, his jaw tightening as he watched her quietly scribble in her notebook. He wasn’t sure if this was some kind of test or another attempt to “catch him off guard.” His whole life had been one test after another, and this—this felt like just another trick up their sleeve.

Great, he thought bitterly, as if I haven’t been poked and prodded enough. Now I’m supposed to open up to someone who probably just finished med school.

The calm way she sat there, so sure of herself, made him itch with irritation. He couldn’t figure her out, and he hated that. Was she here to push him harder than Raynor? Or was this just another bureaucratic move to switch things up, like changing therapists would suddenly crack him open? 

What’s next? A therapy dog? His mind was racing, constantly searching for the next hit, the next blow. He felt like they were always trying to break him down bit by bit, like he was still their weapon. 

But this? This is just insulting. He didn’t know what to make of her, or what she could possibly do for him, but his instincts were already screaming to keep his guard up, to watch her carefully. There was always something more to these situations. Always a catch.

"Did they lose my file or something?" Bucky raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You don’t look old enough to be out of med school, let alone help me with… this." His words came out dripping with sarcasm, testing her right from the start.

Y/N didn’t look up immediately, taking her time as she finished writing something in her notebook. When she finally met his gaze, she adjusted her glasses slightly, then pointed to the couch with her eyes.

"I assure you, Sergeant Barnes, you’re in the right place," she said, her voice calm and even. "If you’d like to sit down, we can get started."

Bucky paused, the smirk still playing on his lips. He scanned the room, as if making sure he hadn’t walked into the wrong office, then sauntered toward the couch opposite her. He dropped down, stretching out his legs lazily, crossing his arms over his chest, still eyeing her with playful suspicion.

"Right place, huh? Are you sure about that?" He chuckled. "Didn’t realize they sent kids to do the hard jobs these days."

"Lucky for you, I’m not a kid. But if you’re hoping for someone older, I’m sure you can take it up with the front desk. Or we could just get started, your call."

Bucky’s smirk widened slightly, impressed by the way she shot back at him. He leaned back on the couch, arms crossed. "Alright then, since you’re apparently the expert. What’s the plan here? Gonna wave a magic wand, make all my problems go away?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, meeting his sarcasm head-on. "No magic wand. Just work. But something tells me you’re not afraid of a little hard work, are you?"

That caught him off guard. He was used to deflecting with humor, but she wasn’t backing down. In fact, she seemed perfectly comfortable in this verbal sparring match.

"Hard work, huh?" He leaned forward slightly, his tone softening but still sarcastic. "And here I thought you were here to hand me a quick fix."

Y/N smiled ever so slightly, just enough to show she wasn’t intimidated. "I don’t do quick fixes. That’s for amateurs."

Bucky stared at her for a moment, genuinely impressed despite himself. He had expected someone more nervous, someone he could easily rattle. But this woman? She wasn’t having any of it.

"Alright, doc," he said, nodding slightly, acknowledging her stance. "You’ve got my attention. What’s next?"

Y/N adjusted her glasses, flipping a page in her notebook. "Next? We talk about your progress. Or, we can sit here in silence while you continue throwing sarcastic remarks at me. I’m good with either option."

"You think I’m just gonna spill my guts? It doesn’t work like that."

"I didn’t expect it to.”

"I’m fine with silence.”

Bucky muttered, his eyes flicking to the window as if contemplating an escape. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about himself. Especially not with someone like her—someone so young and… focused.

Leaning forward slightly, his playful look faded into something darker—a cold, calculating stare. His blue eyes locked onto hers, hard and unblinking, as he gave her the same menacing look that had unnerved countless soldiers and enemies. It was the stare that said he wasn’t someone to mess with.

Most people would have flinched by now, maybe glanced away or shown some kind of discomfort. But Y/N didn’t move. She didn’t flinch. She met his icy stare head-on, calm and unwavering.

Seconds ticked by then into minutes. Bucky’s gaze bore into hers, daring her to crack under the pressure. But she didn’t blink. Didn’t shift in her seat. She held his stare, unshaken.

As Bucky realized she wasn’t going to back down. He clenched his jaw tighter, leaning in even more, his menacing stare intensifying. And still—nothing. Y/N just stared back at him. After what felt like an eternity, Bucky scoffed, the sound low and begrudgingly amused. He leaned back into the couch, letting out a breath.

"Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered, clearly impressed. His smirk returned, but this time, it was less mocking and more intrigued. "You didn’t even blink."

"I’ve seen worse," she shrugged.

"Most people can’t handle the stare," he said, a hint of admiration creeping into his voice. Bucky stared at her for a moment longer, still processing that she hadn’t buckled under his intimidation. 

"I’m not most people," Y/N replied, her gaze still locked on his.

"You’re not, huh?” Bucky let out another short scoff, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them gradually easing. Bucky leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if contemplating his next move.

"Alright," he finally muttered, his voice quieter now, the edge of defiance softening. "Let’s get started."

× × × ×

Bucky walked down the street, hands deep in his pockets, his mind still stuck on the therapy session with Y/N. He couldn't shake the image of her holding her ground against his menacing stare. Most people crumbled under that.

He was impressed. Hell, maybe even a little thrown off by it.

He reached a small café, the door chimed as he walked in. He’d been coming here for weeks, liking how quiet it was. Bucky slid into a booth in the corner, the furthest one from the entrance, his usual spot. The place was small, quiet—barely anyone noticed him here. That was what he liked. No eyes following him. No whispers.

As he sat down, he glanced at the menu out of habit, though he already knew what he wanted. He tapped his fingers against the table, feeling the hum of anxiety still coursing through him. His thoughts wandered back to Y/N’s. Her refusal to let him dictate the session. It had been a long time since someone had stood their ground with him.

“Same as usual?” the waitress asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. Same.”

The door chimed again, and out of reflex, Bucky glanced up. His eyes landed on her—Y/N. But she was different now. She was dressed in a casual sweater and jeans, her hair down, and the serious, composed demeanor was nowhere to be found. She looked relaxed. For a moment, Bucky frowned. Was this the same woman from earlier?

She hadn’t noticed him yet, busy ordering her coffee at the counter. As she turned, their eyes met, and for a split second, surprise flickered in her gaze. Then she smiled. 

It wasn’t a polite, professional smile like the one she had in the office—it was real, warm. Bucky had to admit, she was even more beautiful when she smiled like that. She made her way over to him, her expression soft and light, a stark contrast to how she’d been before.

“Sergeant Barnes,” she greeted with an amused smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Didn’t expect to see you either. You got a twin or something?” Bucky leaned back, trying to hide the fact that her smile had thrown him. He gave her a skeptical look, still trying to wrap his mind around the shift in her demeanor.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Nope. Just me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You sure? Because you’re not exactly giving off the same ‘don’t mess with me’ vibe as you did earlier.”

“I save that for the office.” She laughed lightly, the sound catching him off guard again.

Bucky blinked, still half-convinced she had to be a different person. “You’re… different outside of work.”

Y/N smiled again, and Bucky couldn’t help but notice how that smile completely transformed her. The serious, no-nonsense therapist was gone. 

“Therapist mode can be intense,” she said, settling into the seat across from him. “Gotta decompress too, you know.”

“Decompress, huh?” Bucky muttered, still eyeing her. “I wasn’t sure you even knew how to.”

“Oh, trust me, I do,” she said with a grin. “You think I’m a robot in the office?”

“Was starting to wonder. . .”

She laughed again, shaking her head as she took a sip of her coffee. “Nope. Just human.”

Bucky stared at her for a moment, taking in how much more approachable she seemed now. The difference between the Y/N sitting across from him now and the one who had held her ground in the office was stark. He hadn’t expected to see her like this—relaxed, smiling, laughing. It was almost disarming.

“You’re hard to figure out,” he said, still trying to process the shift.

She shrugged lightly. “That’s part of the job, isn’t it?”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the café filling the space. Bucky glanced at her again, her soft smile lingering in his mind. He wasn’t sure why, but seeing her like this, outside of the serious office atmosphere, made him feel… at ease.

Eventually, Y/N glanced at her watch. “I should get going. Got other plans.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, same.”

She stood, grabbing her cup. She paused for a moment, then gave him one last smile—a sweet one, the kind that lit up her whole face, making her seem even more different than the woman who had stared him down earlier.

“See you at the next session?” she asked.

Bucky chuckled, half-joking, "Hm, I don’t know."

Her smile didn’t waver. If anything, it deepened, her eyes holding him with a quiet confidence. "I will see you, Sergeant Barnes," she said, her voice more insistent this time, not leaving room for doubt.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, shaking his head slightly, "What’s the point of asking then?”

As she walked out of the café, Bucky leaned back in his seat, shaking his head with a small smile. She had completely thrown him. Her smile, her relaxed demeanor—it was all so different from what he’d expected. For a moment, he wondered if she really did have a twin. But then again, maybe she was just someone with more layers than he’d first realized.

And he found himself eager to know more.

× × × ×

Steve Rogers wasn’t sure how he had gotten talked into this. Well, actually, he knew exactly how—Sam Wilson had dragged him along to this party, claiming Steve needed to “loosen up” and enjoy life more. But standing in the middle of a loud, flashing room with music pounding in his ears, Steve wondered if he should have pushed harder to stay home.

"Come on, Cap," Sam had said with a mischievous grin as they walked through the entrance earlier. "You’ve been in retirement long enough. Time to see what the world’s been up to while you were busy saving it."

Steve stood near the bar now, trying to blend in, his eyes scanning the room. People were dancing wildly, laughing, and having fun in the swirling haze of strobe lights. It was a far cry from the kinds of parties he had attended back in the 1940s—those had been calm, slow, and filled with small talk and jazz music. 

This? This was chaos.

Steve shifted uncomfortably. He had barely touched his drink when Sam elbowed him from the side, laughing. “You look like you’re plotting an escape route. Relax, Cap. Have fun.”

Before Steve could respond, Sam was swept into the crowd by some friends, leaving Steve standing alone by the bar. Even in the anonymity of the darkened room, Steve still attracted attention. His broad shoulders, strong jawline, and quietly confident presence drew glances from several women who were passing by. The strobe lights occasionally highlighted his features, and more than a few curious eyes lingered on him as he stood by the bar.

“Hey there,” she said, leaning in slightly, her voice loud to be heard over the music. “You look like you’re way too good-looking to be standing here alone.”

Steve smiled politely, keeping his distance. “Just here with some friends,” he said, not giving much away.

She stepped a little closer, her eyes lingering on him. “Well, maybe I could keep you company?”

Steve chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Thanks, but I’m good. Just enjoying the night.”

She looked a little surprised but shrugged it off with a casual smile. “Your loss,” she said with a wink, before disappearing back into the crowd.

Steve let out a small breath, his shoulders relaxing as she left. He wasn’t here for that kind of attention, though it seemed inevitable. He glanced around, hoping to spot Sam or Bucky, but before he could move, another woman approached.

He was just about to step away from the bar when another woman, a petite brunette with a mischievous smile, appeared beside him. 

“I’ve seen you reject at least ten girls in the last ten minutes,” she said, her voice teasing. “Either you’ve got impossibly high standards or you’re just too shy to admit you’re having fun.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Neither, really. Just here with some friends. Trying to keep a low profile.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “A guy like you, keeping a low profile? Good luck with that.”

Steve smiled, nodding toward the crowd. “Seems like it’s working so far.”

The woman laughed, but before she could say more, the crowd surged again, and someone bumped into Steve, almost spilling his drink. 

“Sorry about that,” a voice said, half-shouting over the music.

Steve turned and caught a glimpse of another woman, this one different from the others. She was barely recognizable in the strobe lights, her features blurred by the darkness, but something about the way she carried herself caught his attention. She didn’t linger too long on him, and didn't try too hard. Her smile was brief but real.

“No problem,” Steve replied, raising his voice to be heard over the music. 

“Not your scene?” she asked, leaning a little closer to be heard.

“Not exactly,” Steve admitted, putting a finger in to cover one ear.

She laughed lightly, stepping closer, her eyes catching the light for a brief second. “Same. My friend dragged me here. I’m pretty sure she thinks I need to ‘loosen up’.”

“Guess we’re in the same boat,” Steve said, feeling a bit more at ease. She had a warmth in her voice, even amidst the chaos.

Before either of them could say more, a group of partygoers surged by, and one of them grabbed Y/N’s hand, pulling her toward the dance floor. She was caught off guard, stumbling a bit before turning back toward Steve, her hand still caught in the wave.

“Come on!” she shouted over the music, her face lit up with a playful grin.

“No—I don’t think—”

Steve hesitated. He wasn’t much of a dancer—especially not in a place like this—but before he could protest, Y/N grabbed his hand, tugging him into the crowd. The pulsing rhythm of the music pounded in his chest as they were swept into the moving mass of people. The lights flashed wildly, and before Steve knew it, he was dancing, caught up in the infectious energy of the room.

Y/N laughed as they moved, her hand still in his, and Steve found himself smiling despite the overwhelming atmosphere. The strobe lights flickered, casting everything in flashes of light and shadow, and for a moment, it was easy to forget who he was, to forget the weight he usually carried.

Steve didn’t have time to react before he found himself right behind her, the sea of people pushing them closer together. The music pounded through the room, the heavy bass vibrating under their feet. Steve felt her back press against his chest, her body swaying in time with the beat.

The lights flashed, casting her in and out of shadow, but Steve was caught in the moment. She moved to the music effortlessly, her hips swinging in rhythm, her back brushing against him with every movement. He felt the warmth of her body through his shirt, the closeness sparking something inside him he hadn’t expected.

The lyrics of the song echoed through the room: “I, I, I, I just want to watch you when you take it off, take off all your makeup, baby, take it off. . . I just wanna watch you when you take it off, take off all your clothes and watch you take them off.”

Y/N's body moved in perfect sync with the music, and Steve, despite his hesitation, found himself falling into the rhythm. Her hips pressed against him, swaying seductively in time with the beat. He hesitated for a moment before resting his hands lightly on her hips, unsure but drawn in by the intensity of the moment.

The crowd pushed them even closer together, and Steve’s grip on her hips tightened instinctively. She didn’t pull away; instead, she leaned into him, moving her body against his, teasing, playful, completely in tune with the energy of the music. Her head tilted slightly, her hair brushing against his neck, and Steve felt his pulse quicken.

She bit her lower lip, glancing back at him through the lights, a playful spark in her eyes. Steve’s breath caught, his hands sliding up slightly from her waist as their bodies continued to move together. The energy between them was electric, like nothing he’d ever felt before. The music drowned out everything but the pounding of his heart and the feel of her body so close to his.

Suddenly, the crowd pushed them even closer, and in the heat of the moment, Y/N turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his cheek. It was a brief touch, but it sent a shock through him. His grip tightened on her hips, and before either of them could think, their movements slowed, the tension between them peaking.

“I just can't wait to see it all I'm so turned on”

Y/N turned her head fully, her lips finding his in a fast, unexpected kiss. His lips were unexpectedly soft. They parted-in surprise, she thought and then she slipped her tongue inside. It had been forever since she'd done this, never had she done this, but it came to her like breathing. It was electric, quick, but charged with the energy of the moment. 

Steve’s world narrowed to just the two of them—the music, the lights, the crowd—all vanished as her lips met his. He stopped her, just for a moment, then flipped it, deepening the kiss with a flick of his tongue and a firm grip on her hip. Now it was him kissing her, her soft sigh filling the space between them. He responded with heat, his desire matching the unexpected pleasure he found in her.

The kiss only lasted a moment, but it left both of them breathless. Y/N pulled back, her eyes wide with surprise, like she hadn’t expected it either. They were still close, her breath mingling with his as they caught their bearings.

Before either of them could speak, Y/N's friends found her and pulled her with them unaware of Steve, and she was swept away, disappearing into the throng of dancers. Steve stood there, frozen for a second, his heart still racing from the kiss, his hands still tingling from where he’d touched her.

He blinked, trying to steady himself, but she was already gone, lost in the mass of people. The music still pounded around him, the lights still flashed, but all Steve could focus on was the ghost of her lips on his and the wild, unexpected energy of the night.

Steve shook his head, still trying to process what had just happened. The kiss, the way her body had fit so perfectly against his—it was all too new, too different. The way young people dance these days, he thought, he can’t believe he allowed himself to be dragged like that. It was nothing like what he was used to. He exhaled slowly, needing a moment to collect his thoughts. Pushing through the crowd, he scanned the room for Sam. He was going to get an earful for this.

Steve spotted Sam by the bar, laughing with a couple of friends, and beside him was Bucky, nursing a drink and quietly observing the room. Steve made his way over, still feeling the lingering heat of the moment and trying his best to shake it off.

Sam noticed him approaching and immediately grinned, raising his drink in greeting. “There he is! Our man of the hour!” Sam shouted over the music, his voice laced with amusement.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his expression more reserved but no less curious.

“I don’t know about that,” Steve rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding the slight flush still creeping up his neck. 

Sam’s grin widened as he leaned in closer. “Come on, Cap, you’ve got that look on your face. What happened?”

Steve hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to tell them. But Sam already knew him too well, and Bucky… well, there was no escaping his sharp gaze either.

“Nothing,” Steve said with a shrug, hoping to play it off.

“Uh-huh,” Sam said, narrowing his eyes. 

“Nothing, huh?” He took a sip of his drink, but the teasing gleam in his eyes was unmistakable. “Didn’t look like ‘nothing’ when I saw you on the dance floor with… what’s her name?”

Steve’s eyes widened slightly, “You saw that?”

Sam burst out laughing, slapping Steve on the shoulder. “Oh, I saw it. The whole room probably saw it! You were practically glued to her!”

Steve groaned, rubbing his forehead. “It wasn’t like that.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, still grinning. “Oh, really? Because from where I was standing, it looked like you were having a little too much fun.”

Steve shot him a glare, but the way Sam wiggled his eyebrows made it impossible to stay serious. 

Bucky, still quiet, finally smirked. “You’re not exactly blending into the background there, punk.”

“It just… happened, alright?” Steve admitted, his voice trailing off as he tried to explain. “We were dancing, and the crowd kept pushing us together. And then…”

“And then you kissed her!” Sam finished for him, laughing again. “Oh man, Cap, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I didn’t kiss her! She kissed me! It just happened—like in the heat of the moment.”

“Yeah, because ‘heat of the moment’ sounds nothing like you.” Bucky chuckled, finally downing his alcohol.

Steve shot him a look, “Who's side are you on?”

“The ‘heat of the moment’? You mean to tell me you got caught up in the lights and music and had your little dance-floor moment? That’s priceless!” Sam was practically doubled over with laughter now.

“It wasn’t like that. I didn’t even know her.” Steve couldn’t help but crack a smile despite the teasing. 

Sam straightened up, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Doesn’t matter, man. That’s what makes it even better! You don’t know her, and you still ended up in some steamy dance-floor kiss? That’s wild for you.”

Steve groaned again, but the smile tugging at his lips was undeniable.

“Well, I’ll say this,” Sam said, leaning in closer with a sly grin. “You’re full of surprises, Cap. I thought you’d be sitting in a corner all night, but instead, you’re out here stealing kisses in the middle of a crowd.”

“Okay, fine. It was… unexpected. But I wasn’t exactly complaining.”

Sam raised both eyebrows in mock surprise. “Unexpected, huh? Is that what we’re calling it when you’re practically glued to someone in the middle of a party? I mean, the way you two were moving—if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were auditioning for a music video.”

Steve sighed, but a part of him couldn’t help but feel amused at the whole situation. He never expected to get caught up in something like that. 

“I didn’t even get her name,” he said, almost to himself.

Bucky tilted his head. “Classic.”

Sam’s grin softened into a knowing smile. “Well, maybe that’s the universe telling you it’s time to loosen up a little. Enjoy the ride.”

Steve smirked, shaking his head. “Maybe.”

Sam clapped him on the back again. “Look, Cap, you’ve spent your whole life saving the world. You deserve to have moments like that. Maybe even more than most people.”

Steve couldn’t argue with that. The memory of her lips on his, the way their bodies had moved together—it wasn’t something he was likely to forget anytime soon.

Sam raised his glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to Captain America, finally letting loose.”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this.” Steve chuckled and clinked his glass against Sam and Bucky's.

“You’re doing just fine, Cap,” Sam said with a wink. “Just fine.”

+ + + +

Y/N’s heels clicked against the smooth marble floors of the mansion’s foyer as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. The security system beeped, and she casually entered the code, the familiar beep fading into silence. The house was large, quiet, and pristine—almost too quiet after the chaos of the party.

She kicked off her heels, phone pressed to her ear as she continued her animated conversation with her best friend.

“I’m telling you, it was insane,” Y/N laughed, still buzzing from the energy of the night. “I don’t even know how I ended up on the dance floor, but there I was, dancing like I had no care in the world. And, oh my god, there was this guy...”

She paused, biting her lip at the memory of the mysterious man she’d danced with. The lights had made it impossible to see him clearly, but the way he moved, how his hands had felt on her hips—it sent a thrill through her just thinking about it.

“I didn’t catch his name,” she continued, flopping onto the plush couch in the living room. “But we were so close, and when we kissed... girl, I don’t even know what came over me.”

Her friend gasped on the other end of the line, clearly invested in every word. “Wait, you kissed him? Who are you right now?”

“I don’t know!” Y/N laughed again—almost squealing, “It was one of those wild party moments, you know? The music was loud, people were everywhere, and then—boom—his lips were on mine.”

“Omg, didn’t you get his number?”

“No.” She frowned then she smiled to herself, enjoying the carefree thrill of the memory. “Honestly, I thought I’d regret it, but no. Imagine that? My dad would kill me.”

As she continued recounting the night, a slight rustling from the other side of the room made her pause. Y/N looked up, her heart skipping a beat as she realized she wasn’t alone. In the doorway stood Thaddeus Ross, her father, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

He cleared his throat loudly, the sound cutting through the excited chatter still flowing from her phone. Y/N froze for a moment, her eyes widening as she realized she’d been caught mid-party recap in her usually reserved father’s presence.

Her friend’s voice buzzed in her ear, still going on about the party, but Y/N quickly pulled the phone away, muttering, “I’ll call you back,” before hanging up. The excitement drained from her face, replaced by a nervous smile.

“Dad,” Y/N greeted, forcing a casual smile. “Didn’t know you’d be home.”

“Apparently, you didn’t. Sounded like quite the party.” Thaddeus Ross narrowed his eyes slightly, stepping further into the room.

Y/N stood, suddenly aware of how much she’d let herself unwind. She straightened her clothes and tried to appear nonchalant. “It was just a party with some friends. No big deal.”

Thaddeus arched an eyebrow. “Friends?”

“Yeah, friends. You know, just... normal people.” Y/N shrugged, trying to downplay the whole thing.

Thaddeus studied her for a moment, his eyes sharp, as if trying to piece together the details she hadn’t given him. 

“I see,” he finally said, his tone unreadable. “It sounded a bit more... involved than your usual nights out.”

Y/N swallowed, brushing off the heat rising in her cheeks. “It was just for fun, Dad. Nothing to worry about.”

He didn’t respond immediately, just gave her a long, assessing look. 

“You know how important it is to keep certain parts of your life secure, Y/N,” he said in that familiar, commanding tone of his. “People might take advantage if they know too much about who you really are.”

Y/N gave him a playful smile, trying to brush off his seriousness. “Dad, I’m 24. I should be out there kissing strangers at parties by now, right?”

Thaddeus didn’t smile. He simply sighed, crossing his arms tighter over his chest. 

“I wasn’t wearing a neon sign that said ‘Mr. President’s Daughter’ on it. It was just a party. I’m allowed to have fun.” Y/N rolled her eyes, her tone still light but more pointed now.

Thaddeus didn’t seem to be swayed by her attempt to joke. “Having fun is one thing, but keeping yourself safe is another. You may think these parties are harmless, but they aren’t always what they seem.”

“Dad, relax. I know how to keep myself out of trouble. I mean, come on, I live here, don’t I? No one’s getting past your fortress.” Y/N sighed, but her smile remained. 

Thaddeus gave her a long, measured look, as if deciding how much more to say. Finally, he relented just slightly, his voice softening. “It’s not just about the security, Y/N. It’s about the people you surround yourself with.”

Y/N softened her tone too, standing up to face him. “I get it, Dad. I know you’re just looking out for me, but I’m not going to live in fear. I can take care of myself.”

Thaddeus didn’t reply right away, his eyes flicking to the security system panel before returning to her. “Just... be careful. Not everyone you meet at those parties will have good intentions.”

“I know, Dad. I promise I’ll be careful.” Y/N nodded, her earlier playfulness giving way to a more serious understanding. 

Thaddeus gave a short nod, clearly not fully convinced but unwilling to push the conversation any further tonight. “Good. Just remember what I said.”

He turned and left the room, leaving Y/N standing there with the lingering weight of his words. As the tension dissolved, she let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “I’m 24,” she muttered to herself, smiling at the absurdity of the situation.

“I heard that!” Thaddeus yelled from another area of the house.

“You were supposed to!” 

Despite everything, the memory of the night—the music, the dancing, the kiss—still played in her mind, and she couldn’t help but smile.

Next Chapter

[theghostbunnie]

Don’t know if you’ve done this already but do you have any Max and Neil headcannons? separately I mean

I gotchu fam

Let's kick this off with a big one: I think Neil has a secret laboratory at one of his parents houses. Think Dexter's lab from CN or even Moon girl from Disney. I'd think he would wanna put it in his dad's place bc his mom would find it faster but I always imagined his dad had an apartment. Neil makes it work somehow. It's where he goes to have ultimate me time and just get to work on stuff. He's created an area where he feels so comfortable/safe he really lets loose in there. His friends do NOT get to know about it !!!!! They end up stumbling across it by mistake and he'll let them in there occasionally as a treat. Nothing more!!! That's his area.

Neil secretly likes bee gees. He grew up with Carl playing it all the time and regrettably it gets stuck in his head sometimes. He more openly likes lyricless techno. Something to just zone out to. A little bit back to the lab hc: he dances while he works sometimes.

This next one is cannon to me: he likes bedazzled/studded(?) lab coats and leather jackets. He probably doesn't think he can pull leather jackets off normally or will get made fun of if he tries but like every time throughout the show his confidence hits a certain high that's what he puts on. Ered gets her cool back, and in the Hanukkah episode too. In Cameron Campbell can't handle the truth he winks/walks in slow motion wearing his bedazzled studded lab coat again. I'm so certain he made it himself.

Funny/joke HC: as he gets older he starts having a gun on stand by if what he's working on becomes too sentient

Okay before this gets too long I'll move on to the Max ones

Marina fan!!!!! I take no criticisms on this!!/j I have broken down my reasons in detail why multiple of her songs fit in my interpretation of him multiple times and I would gladly do it again.

I think Max has this version of himself in his mind he's always trying to achieve and convey to others. For the most part it works, and that's what he is, but he's still human and it falters and it pisses him off when it does.

I think in the parents day episode, he wasn't just crying bc his parents didn't care to show up. (and it had nothing to do with the fact David raised his voice at him imo, David had done that before) it was the fact his parents didn't show up/give him an activity and he was trying to play it off and hide it all day and when David found out this man's face dropped in front of him. It embarrassed Max bc he was actively trying to hide that and instead it came out. It was a mix of the situation itself and the embarrassment he didn't want anyone to know that's what was happening or that it affected him.

Y'all are gonna hate me for this one/j: those piercings I cover my older Max design with? Fake. He's afraid of needles but can't let that interfere with the drip. They're faux. Kept on with an eyelash glue equivalent.

He pulls his hair and kicks his legs to stim. He does It all the time throughout the show. The hair pulling when he gets too happy or angry or stressed for him to handle and the leg kicking when bored or scared in different degrees. When he's standing up he tries to mask it more but sometimes it comes out of him as a stomp.

He will literally be stomping and pulling his hair and some people don't take him seriously when it gets to that point.

He's undiagnosed too.💪

His friends rub off on him over time and he's alot more evilly goofy/mischievous instead of just "over it" all the time. He's still plenty over it, just not as much.

I feel like I should add at least one joke I've written onto Max's portion just to even It out

I feel like I have loads more I just can't remember them all rn aaaaaa

[msmargaretmurry]

For writing ask game, 18, 19, 24!

sorry for the delay, i got home yesterday and was just too tired too think 😭❤ but ok! doing these backwards so i can put the writing commentary under a cut:

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

i don't do a lot of prep work in terms of outlining or anything — but i do a fair amount of prep work in terms of pondering and research. does pondering count as prep work? 😂 idk i'm counting it. just ruminating on a concept until it feels story-shaped in my head. i can't write it until it feels story-shaped! and then i'll do a lot of my research as i go, but if i need to know something for the overall story structure i do that research us front — for example if a fic is set over the course of a season i'll go look up the notable games and events so i can plan for story beats to hit in the right places.

answered 19 here!

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

choosing a passage was so hard!! but okay let's talk about this bit from the first chapter of haw:

so there are a few things going on here, writing-wise! i can't remember exactly when in my pondering i decided i was going to send them both to boots, but i knew that i wanted to get them alone together somewhere very away from hockey, and boots wound up being that place. this convenient run-in is the thing that's really going to set the stage for their relationship going forward, so i wanted to a) establish that they do have chemistry, even if they get off on kind of a fucked-up foot, and b) matthew kind of would like to know leon better, even though he's convinced leon hates him.

matthew's in such a shitty place mentally during this scene. he's so prickly and punchy, and it colors the entire interaction, and i think this scene is one of the first scenes where his tight and unreliable pov significantly warps the perception of what's actually happening. he's so sure leon doesn't like him at all, and so he reads all of leon's bluntness and sarcasm as dislike when really it's mostly just, you know. bluntness and sarcasm. so writing this scene was one of the first real challenges in the fic of knowing what's going on in leon's head while still writing from matthew's pov in a way that doesn't get what's going on in there at all. because matthew's correct that leon's not in a great mood when they encounter each other but he has no idea that leon a) has thought about hooking up with him ever, at all, and b) has been kind of stuck on their weird interaction in the locker room for days now (i can hear miriam now hollering at me from germany to just write the whole scene from leon's pov 😂❤)

the boots scenes in general were fun to write because i loved building the sense of atmosphere. there's not a ton of it in this snippet, but in general making boots feel like a very distinct place, a world apart from real life, was something i was definitely striving for during this stretch of the fic.

anyway, i love the long paragraph that's mostly the inside of matthew's head while they stand in line for beers. i just think it's a fun paragraph, prose-wise, and i just kind of love a paragraph that just kind of tumbles out and keeps going. i feel like some people are a little afraid of writing long paragraphs and i am here to say: don't be, they're fun. particularly with this one it was important for me getting a grasp on the way matthew's thoughts tend to sprawl and spiral and, i think, good for setting the tone for how the inside of his head is gonna work for this whole story.

(and like, that part that's like, "not quite a glare, almost a sizing up" — he's checking you out, matthew, you idiot. get it TOGETHER.)

[lollytea]

ms. lolly i'm getting glasses and i'm afraid i'm going to look uglier than usual in them. i don't want people to make fun of me (esp. not the guy i like. i dont think he will bc he's sweet but im still anxious) but. i'm afraid that people are gonna tease me. idk what to do and im super nervous bc i'm not attractive and i think the glasses are gonna just bring that out. do u have any tips on getting over that, as a glasses-wearer? (at least im assuming by your pfp)

sorry to disturb u with my silly ask but i hope u have a great day <3 love ur writing and huntlow posts

Hello! This kind of thing is hard to give advice on but I'll try my best :D! It's kinda like asking what kind of clothes will make you feel the most confident when only you know for sure what makes you comfortable and what doesn't. But I can definitely give you my opinions on glasses and what I feel best in and maybe you can take it into consideration.

(EDIT: OH MY GOD. I wrote a good bit about choosing glasses to feel nice in but I just read the ask again and it's possible you've already gotten them. Just scroll down to the bottom of the ask and I'll talk a bit about that if it's the case.)

You worry about not liking the way you'll look with glasses. That's okay, I've been wearing them since I was little so I feel really ugly without them. It's fine to feel a little insecure. But hopefully you'll find a pair that you think you like nice in!!

For the first ten years of wearing glasses, I had really small, thin wiry ones. Blegh. No wonder I felt so ugly during that time. They were not it. Was looking like this bitch.

But just cuz I didn't like the way they looked on me doesn't automatically mean you won't! Everyone's face is different.

Size matters (HAH) to me. I feel more happy and confident with the way my face looks with glasses depending on how big they are. I like how big glasses look. So when I was 18 I got THESE frames

And I liked them a lot!! I decided I like big wide glasses. So any frames I got from this point forward would look kinda like this.

However!! I kinda regretted the colour. It's like having a big big blocky border around your face dulls it a bit. So when I got new ones a few years later, I wanted them to be lighter. To brighten up the face area. These ones!!

They're pink!!! Or red maybe. But they're pink to ME!!! They are also EVEN BIGGER than the black pair I had. They're HUGE asgdbjnk. And I love them huge. The bigger the better. They're not really circular but they're also kinda roundish and I like that too.

So I guess think about the size, shape and colour. Would you like something more subtle like a small pair? Would you like them big and round? Getting them in a colour that you like Would definitely help!!

The thickness of the frames also matters. Maybe, since you're a little worried about how you'll look wearing them, you'd like something thinner? More subtle? Something in a pale colour/or without much of a border at all? Something that doesn't hide your face

Maybe something similar to this?

(I mean the frame thickness, not the size ahsbdjnk. We don't know what size you'd like yet.)

I kinda want glasses that look like this. I want thin gold ones like Miss Willow Park from hit Disney channel show the Owb Houb. However I don't really have that option. I'm borderline blind so I need the thick plastic frames to hold the thick as fuck lenses ahsbdjnk.

But since this is your first pair your eyes probably aren't nearly as bad and you have way more options!!

OKAY!! So if you've already chosen your glasses and are still worried about how you're going to look in them.

Alright, there are never any easy answers to this problem. How to get over not liking the way you look. People definitely like to pretend it's easy, that "Love yourself! Everyone is beautiful! :)" are these magic words that will suddenly rewire our brains into being happy and content with ourselves after a lifetime of feeling like the odd one out. When some people are put on a pedestal for how they look and some are not. It's hard to say physical ugliness doesn't exist when it's been beaten into everyone's heads that it does.

Despite everyone's best efforts to dismantle the concept of beauty standards, they persist relentlessly. They're roots in our brains, roots in society, and they're roots made of iron. So it is nobody's fault for being unsatisfied with themselves even after trying for so long to forcibly inject some girlboss confidence into their bloodstream. Its hard. It will always be hard.

If self love isn't easy at the start, aim for self neutrality. Just not hating is a good place to start.

It seems like you're not comfortable with yourself without glasses, so maybe if we start with that, your face with glasses will be way easier to accept.

In the end, you only have the one face to get you through this lifetime. And it's a lifetime you will waste if you spend it wishing it was different.

Everyone's face is a rearrangement of facial features, none of which are inferior to anyone else's, no matter what we've been mentally trained to believe.

You're a masterpiece all on your own. Every feature on your face belonged to someone in your family who came before you. Every feature you have was once adored by someone else. Specifically because it was a feature that belonged to a very wonderful person.

One day there will be someone who loves you more than anything. They'll love you so much than when they see a face that even looks remotely like yours they'll think that it's beautiful.

If it helps, mess around with your appearance a little. What colours do you like? Patterns? Skirts? Button up shirts? Long hair? Short hair? Dyed hair? Cardigans? Jangly jewelry? Figure out what's the most beautiful to you and add them to yourself. If you don't like your face, drown it out with what you do like. Until it gets to the point where its so distinctly you that you couldn't imagine this whole look without your face attached to it.

If you get to that point where you can feel happy with how you look as your default, then sliding a pair of glasses on and off shouldn't make much of a difference.

Thank you for telling me you like my writing and my posts. You seem sweet. I'm sure that's what people think when they're reminded of you. I'm sure that's what the guy you mentioned thinks. How can a person really be ugly if you associate their face with warmth and kindness?

Stay kind to others. Be kind to yourself. There's not much else I can say.

Good luck, love <33

[missielynne]

Hi sweet mutual! A fun challenge if you feel like answering - in what ways do you prefer the British version of Ghosts to the US one, and in which ways do you think the US version is better than the UK one? I love both :)

Well hello hello! I love both too and I spend a lot of time thinking about this because honestly, I do need both. Each one does things that the concept of a ghost show needs to be successful that the other doesn't do, so just one show would feel incomplete to me.

Like for instance: the UK show is really good about saying "We're a ghost show. Let's have scenes that make the viewer uneasy and a little creeped out." Like whenever we see ghosts outside Button House, or even inside if their method of death necessitates it, they aren't afraid to show them graphically injured and creepy looking (like the butler in the party hat that got shot through the head, for instance, or even just Jemima for crying out loud. I mean would you want her standing over your bed singing at night?)

Same for what is probably my favorite moment in the whole show with the hitchhiker ghost in bump in the night: the build up to that is so good! And yes we get a little jump scare a la the sixth sense when you realize that she is in fact a ghost and we see her wound. But it has a creepier overall narrative purpose as well: Do not hitchhike Alison Cooper, or you will die like her. It just hits me how amazing it is every single time. (And this particular thing gets the BBC version A LOT of points in its favor.)

That's what I would like to see from the US version even a little bit. Make me uneasy. Make a chill go down my spine with scenes sometimes and actually play them as creepy. Elias and his corpse in the vault could have been an excellent example but it's always played more for laughs, which is a shame.

Now what I like most about the US version is that, of course since they have more time, they can play with the lore more. They can say "We are a ghost show, so we're gonna treat our ghosts like actual ghosts and have them possess people and explore their powers," whereas in the BBC version, they're treated more like people who have just died and are existing in the house, since the idea of them "moving on" as an endgame is not particularly important.

To me though, that leaves the BBC version to be a little more aimless than I prefer. It makes me feel more like I'm just waiting for stuff to actually happen since I don't know what the endgame for these souls actually is (whereas with the US version, it's much more clear.)

On the whole, I like the parts of BBC (like the individual episodes that can get from point a to point b e.g. Robbers invade Button house while Alison is gone, and they're caught by the end) rather than the series as a whole where I'm left to figure things out for myself because it's open ended when I would much prefer to know whether I'm right or wrong IN canon, (which is probably an American thing). Whereas with CBS Ghosts which is written to my American tastes, I can love it all because it's got better pacing and doesn't just dwell on certain things forever when there's still more story still to be told (like I don't know if it was cause of Covid restrictions or whatever but I'm a little frustrated that they spent a whole season going on and on about Alison's fake sister when they hadn't told the stories of Kitty's and Cap's deaths yet so we had to wait for them, for instance). Although there are certain parts of CBS (like Jessica and her whole car ghost lore) that I wish could have gotten more because it was so fascinating. Both are amazing in their own ways and I love them to pieces and I'm glad I don't have to choose one or the other.

So anyway, there you go! Thanks for the ask! :)

[babybatscreationsv2]

Marked ch 5

Marvel | Starker

When Tony's soul marks first appeared he was afraid he wouldn't be good enough for his soulmate. When Peter's marks appeared he was afraid of what the blood and bruises meant. Now they're left dealing with the consequences of a dangerous lifestyle and a lot of distrust.

Warnings: violence, murder

Someone threw a pot at his head as Peter ran into the kitchen. He dodged and it hit his shoulder hard. A few of the cooks were huddled in the back, armed with various cookware. One of them raised his arm to throw a ladle.

"Hey, easy!" Peter raised his hands to show they were empty. "Mr. Stark sent me back here to hide. He said you would protect me."

A few confused glances were shared. Then a woman sighed. "Yeah, of course this is how I pay the guy back. Asshole." She rolled her eyes. "If I get killed for you I'm gonna be so pissed." She marched over to the prep station and reached underneath. She pulled out a gun that had been taped to the underside of the table.

"Just get behind me, I'll guard the door."

"Thanks... I think."

The cook stood beside the swinging door, arms outstretched. Peter crouched behind her. "What's going on out there anyway?"

She shrugged. "Probably more turf war bullshit. Stark keeps pushing into Beck's territory and Beck's afraid of him. So he plans these stupid little attacks but they just get a lot of bystanders killed. Who are you anyway?"

"I'm Peter. It's nice to meet you ma'am."

She laughed. "What are you his kid?"

Peter blushed. "No, his date actually... What do you mean turf war?"

She glanced at him before she turned back to the door. "I shouldn't say anything else. Just don't get killed, alright?"

"I'll do my best..." Peter looked around the kitchen for anything that might help. There were plenty of knives laying around, but that wasn't a lot of good against guns. They could hide in the cooler if they had to. Then he spotted a door behind the huddled cooks.

"Why don't we just go out the fire exit?"

They all shared a look. Then one of them reached out and pushed it open a crack. Peter retched at the sight of a body on the other side. One of the cooks had been shot through the eye. Blood dripped over the threshold. They pulled the door shut again.

The gunshots outside made him nervous. He had no way of knowing if Tony was okay or if anyone was coming to the kitchen. What the hell had he gotten himself into? They were slaughtering people! He should have known something was wrong about all of this when Tony tracked him down. Normal people don't just send flowers to your work and show up at your apartment after bumping into you all of one time.

Peter sighed and leaned back against the wall. His reflection in a big silver pot caught his eye. Blood was running down the side of his face. He touched it and found his skin dry. He looked closer and found a scrape across his temple. Tony was hurt. But how hurt? He shouldn't be out there by himself.

He looked back at the woman by the door. "Give me your gun."

"What?" She looked over her shoulder at him.

"You don't want to die for me right? What happens when they come into the kitchen? You're only one person."

"I don't know, kid..."

"I'm not a kid. Give me the damn gun!" he snapped. "Please." He held out his hand. He was growing more worried with every gun shot that rang through the walls. His heart raced. He checked his reflection again. The blood had run down and over Tony's chin, but there wasn't anything new. What would happen to the marks if...

"Listen, if Stark says anything you tell him that you forced my hand. I'm not responsible if you commit suicide."

"Deal." She handed the gun over. It was heavier than he'd expected, but he tried not to let the surprise show on his face.

He crept to the door with the gun at his side. He pushed the door open a crack. The sight on the other side was a bit like a horror movie. Two bodies laid on the floor near the table they had been dining at just minutes ago. Plates of still warm food sat at the tables. Some of the diners had left behind coats or purses. He pushed the door open further. He couldn't see anyone in the restaurant, but he could hear gunshots near the front along with police sirens.

Peter pushed through the swinging door, crouching low. He snuck towards the front, heart beating in his throat.

"Kid!" someone hissed behind him. He jumped and whirled around, gun raised. The man held up his hands, but he didn't drop the gun he held.

He was balding with a gray speckled beard and a permanent look of annoyance on his face. He rolled his eyes. "Parker, right?"

"Yes, sir."

He huffed. "Sir, dear god what did Tony get into now. Just get behind me."

"Who are you?"

"Who am I?" He looked incredulous. He walked past Peter towards the front of the building. "Happy Hogan? Tony's right hand man? He didn't tell you anything did he? Typical."

Peter jumped as he fired the gun down a seemingly empty row of tables. He kept walking by without a care. Peter looked down the row as he followed. A man had been hiding beneath one of the tables, gun in hand. He could have been shot on his way to Tony.

He kept following as they reached the front, past more abandoned tables and around the fountain in the foyer. Tony was crouched behind the host's station popping off shots to keep the men across the room at bay, but he couldn't do much more than that.

"Tony!" Peter cried out. A bullet whizzed past his arm and Happy pulled him down behind the fountain.

"Be quiet," Happy hissed.

"Happy, what the fuck!" Tony growled.

"It wasn't me! He was out walking around the dining room like he was lost," Happy called back.

"I wasn't lost! I came to help you."

Tony peeked at them from behind the station. "Did you really?" His eyes glittered. The blood on his face was already drying, the wound must have been minor, thank god. They all ducked back down at the sound of a gunshot.

"What do we do?" Peter asked.

"Cops are here," Happy said. "Let's wrap this up."

"I got a problem, Hap. This is turning out just like Chicago."

Happy groaned. "You've got to be kidding me." He rubbed a hand over his face.

"What does that mean?"

"Stay here, don't move." He was up before Peter could react, firing off two shots to keep the others hidden beneath their overturned table while he ran to Tony. But there were more than three. A man stepped out from the other side of the fountain. The muzzle of his gun leveled with Happy's forehead and everyone froze. Happy dropped his gun.

The man had manic green eyes and slicked back hair. He was dressed to the nines but he didn't wear it like Tony did.

"Call off your men, Stark," he declared.

Peter looked between Tony and Happy. The other man didn't seem to know he was there. Maybe he could help somehow. He still had the gun...

Peter stood and raised the gun, holding it in two hands and trying not to let them shake. "Drop your weapon!"

The man blinked at him. "Who the fuck-"

Tony stood, gun pointed at the man's head. "I'm over here, Quentin."

Quentin turned back to Tony, pointing his gun again at Happy, but in all the twisting and turning he'd lost focus. Happy grabbed his arm and twisted it, pulling Quentin's back to his chest and holding the gun to his head. Quentin's men all pointed their guns at Happy. Peter wasn't really sure where to point his. He wasn't even totally sure how to use the thing beyond pulling the trigger.

"Tell them to stand down," Tony ordered.

"You kill me, you're not getting out of here."

"What do you care if you're already dead?"

"Fuck you," Quentin growled. "You're not taking me hostage."

Tony sighed. "Fine. Let's go. Peter, did you see the emergency exit through the dining room?"

"Yeah."

"Great, you lead the way."

Peter stepped away from the fountain and backed toward the dining room. Happy started to drag Quentin with him.

"Don't let them kidnap me you fucking amateurs!" Quentin screamed. He looked rabid, spit flying from his teeth.

"If any of you move I'll blow your boss's head off," Happy made plain. The poor lackies didn't know what to do. They stood frozen in place, eyes flicking between Quentin and Happy. Tony seemed to find that satisfactory and he jogged across the foyer to Peter's side. They walked towards the door with Happy behind, guns trained on Quentin's men until they were out of sight.

"Are you hurt?" Tony asked.

"No, but you are. What happened?"

"Just a scrape. Don't worry about it. I'll explain when we get somewhere safe, I promise."

Peter nodded. He couldn't stop searching the room as if more of Quentin's men might pop out. Especially with the way he spat and screamed like a feral cat. They reached the door. Tony pushed it open and peered out.

"Should be clear," Happy said. "I took care of Quentin's people."

"Yeah you fucking did, you fucking animal," Quentin snarled. Happy smacked his head with the side of the gun.

"I know it wasn't Tony who killed that waitress while we're calling names, you sick fuck."

"Happy," Tony scolded. He shot him a look before he ducked through the door. He grabbed Peter's hand and pulled him along. To his surprise, Tony's car was at the end of the alley behind two others. It sat running with four men on either side seemingly standing guard. The rest of the alley was a river of blood and fresh corpses that Peter tried not to look at, but the glassy eyes of a man held his until they passed.

Tony opened the passenger door and Peter got in. He sat stiff, gun in his lap, unable to move. Tony got in the driver's seat. He stopped and looked at him. He looked at the gun. He took it from Peter's lap and examined it.

"You don't own a gun."

"I took it from the cook. What the fuck just happened, Tony?" His voice cracked and tears began to roll down his face.

Tony tucked the gun in a holster under his jacket. His own was dropped in the backseat. Peter flinched like he'd dropped a bomb.

Tony pulled the car out onto the street. The flashing lights of police cars gleamed off the mirrors as they passed. "Me and Happy spent a week in Chicago once. I was young and stupid. Thought I was some big shot mobster ready to take on the big guys. They sent so many men after us. It took us hours to dig our way out the shit we made. Half way through, I ran out of rounds. No way to get more without crossing the no man's land that was the casino floor. We barely made it out."

Peter straightened, realizing what he was telling him. "You ran out of bullets."

"Yep," he popped the 'P' between his lips. Tony looked over at him. "Happy would have died if it weren't for you. I couldn't have saved him."

Peter's stomach ached. He clenched his jaw, pushing down the nausea.

"I put you in a bad spot, Peter. I'm sorry. I should have told you everything, let you decide if it's worth the risk."

Peter shook his head. "I don't want to hear it."

"What?"

Peter looked at him. Then back out the window. "We both know what you did. It doesn't need to be said. Just let me process."

"Okay." Tony gripped the wheel too tight. They both stared straight ahead until they reached Peter's apartment. Tony pulled over to the curb and parked.

Peter stared at the building. He said nothing for a long time and neither did Tony. He couldn't look at him. He needed to be angry. He needed to save himself from this. This was too much. He nearly died. He'd watched so many people die. All in less than an hour everything was different. He knew better than to meet his eye. But he needed to look. He needed to see the regret on his face.

So he looked.

And he saw rich, dark eyes, a perfect jaw, the slight hump of a once broken nose. Perfect hair turned disheveled and blood on his face. Peter swallowed.

"Come up with me."

[masschase]

chase, i am once again in your ask box begging for lore.

18 and 23 for the ask meme if you haven’t done them and i hope you have the best day today :3

I'm so sorry this took 2 days! My brain just didn't seem able to finish 🥲

Ask me about muh girlie

18. What was your character’s presidency like? How did they campaign?

OOH THIS QUESTION IS SO EXCITING :D

OK I'll start with her campaign.There were huge calls for the person who disabled the nuke to be the President at first.

The tv cut to news footage of the Boss on the screen, still in her suit in the slightly destroyed Oval Office being hounded by press. "I'm sure you'll get to know me soon enough. For now, just know this. I'm the leader of the Saints. If you've ever doubted us or our brand in the past, remember this: I just saved the BLEEP world BLEEPs. So you better show us some BLEEEEP respect.". The news cut to footage of crowds chanting while the anchor spoke again. "People are calling for the leader of the Saints to enter the running as President- if we can only get a hold of them..."

Pierce, Shaundi and Kinzie meet Casey in DC the following day and set up a press conference for the day after that. Funnily enough they do discuss the possibility of Pierce posing as the leader but he declines for personal reasons mostly regarding his sexuality and his overall safety. Casey decides she's just going to have to go for it and they talk about the angle they're going to take.

She thought for a second. "Is there any chance they're gonna buy that I'm a sweet wholesome Michigan girl?" Pierce raised an eyebrow. "Absolutely zero." he confirmed. "Yeah, I thought so..." she mused, thinking to herself again.

They decide they have a better chance at going with strength. Power. The fact that the Boss is not afraid to get her hands dirty to get shit done.

Unfortunately, the media manages to dig stuff up before the press conference. Kinzie was very thorough at encrypting Casey's name and real age (now 25) when she discovered them back in 2014. However there are pictures of her various aliases, her fake age (28, still too young to be president) and some of her exploits all over the news.

Pierce calls in a favour (he seems to "know a guy" in every city and I think we all know why) to makeover the Boss while he tries to persuade her to dress with a little more class, and eventually they give her a new image (something she mostly managed to swerve when the Saints hit fame by encouraging Pierce into the limelight.)

At the press conference they focus on strength, security, defense, and most importantly, finding ways to appeal to both sides. Overall the Saints policies are fairly left-wing, some more radical than the Dems but they pay lip service to the right too. I'm actually planning a post on this press conference soon; initially I was going to write it as a transcript but I find it way, way more interesting as a fully written piece because Casey's thoughts and feelings during in make it far more interesting. Here's a snippet.

"Yeah, sure, maybe I have been a little intense at times. But I'm not a violent person.". Hoo boy, that was hard to say with a straight face. All politicians lied though, right? She bit her lip a little but managed to compose herself a little. "I am not an attacker. I'm a defender, and I will stop at nothing to defend my country. I will kick terrorism's ass. I will beat poverty into submission. I will put a bullet in the gun violence in this country.". Ooh, she still really liked that part. She looked around at the approving crowd. "As for the most marginalised in our society... if you are downed... I will Pick. You. Back. Up. Again."

It's all ridiculously cheesy to be honest, but what else did you expect? The speech was written primarily by Pierce but with input from the other three (a bullet in gun violence was Shaundi's idea which means it was actually iamkinzie's idea in our rp) and Casey did ad-lib the odd part. She manages to deal with questions fairly well at the end, though the final one basically refers to her being spotted with women so she makes the decision to come out as bi and takes a clear pro LGBTQ+ stance (I can really see this appealing to some of the disillusioned Bernie Sanders fans). She relies on more platitudes to balance this out.

"If you have any kind of issue with this, I urge you to try and remember what country we are in. I want to ask you what freedom-" she emphasised. "'-means to you. Because the last I checked... this was America."

Cringe cringe. Yes a lot of this probably wouldn't work in real life. But c'mon guys she's a fucking Saints Row IV Boss. At times her tumblr version reaches full cartoon character. She had to win somehow, I'm just rationalising that the best I can. 🤣

The Saints were doing well for an independent, but overall it wasn't enough to swing things, even as late as mid-2016. They also still needed to do something about the age on the constitution. This is where the 4th July party came in. This is where the Saints manage to gain much of the support and investment needed to get the age changed as well as step up their campaigns for a greater share of votes.

This is also the same time the fake relationship for the media between Casey and Pierce began. The idea was to present it as a "we can't be public with this because of our work but awww we're secretly in love 👉👈" thing to cover up Pierce's then-closeted queerness and Casey's promiscuity, and they had relative success with it tbh.

I think it was never a dead cert, but once the amendment passed, it sent a very clear message they were likely to win. There was still a little uncertainty right up until Novemver. But they just about scraped the win.(woooo fuck Trump!)

The actual presidency? I think she was competent enough actually, at least with the team she had around her. I don't imagine the promised vision came around overnight, but they were getting there. Trouble was, she stopped giving a fuck about her public image. She started dressing more like herself, giving less of a fuck about speeches, put less effort into covering up the drinking, drugs and sex. Kind of leading into what we see in IV with the really low approval ratings.

Casey would not have gotten a second term. In the unlikely event she did, Pierce had already resigned effective then (he's already made it clear he's not her second in command anymore, and Kinzie and Oleg would've probably would've left together too.

If anything, this was why she had to spend much of Saints Row IV earning back her friends' respect.

23. How did you structure the series’ timeline for your character?

Ooh so I don't know if this means what is the timeline or why I chose the timeline? I have answered an ask on this before but I can't find the link and I love my timeline so always happy to talk about it 😊

2006: Saints Row, spread across the summer probably June-Aug/Sept? Obviously SRIV says "the Saints made themselves known to the world in 2006" or something to that effect, obviously the game came out in 2006 and I just think it is mostly agreed that's when that took place

2011: Saints Row 2, July/Aug to Oct. I can't see the coma being exactly 5 years and this too seems to take place over the summer. Fairly easy decision, I didn't use any particular dates from the game I don't think.

2012-2014: Saints rise to fame.

2014: Saints Row the Third: September-December. In-game news reports span autumn/winter.

2015: SRIV Zero Saints Thirty/disabling of the nuke. Probably around September/October time. This is when the presidential campaign starts. I decided on the date because SRTT dlc stuff is apparently the first half of 2015, and just to make the other dates work.

2016: Main past section of my fanfic in June/July. Casey elected President, November obviously. I think maybe it's implied in a jokey way that the Boss just fell into the job but then it's also clear they're still in their first term 5 years later so... really this makes sense and is in line with actual election dates.

2020: Main bulk of Saints Row IV. March-May. Obviously it needed to be before November and I'm not quite sure why I settled on March but yeah, earth was invaded by the Zin on the 3rd March. Just for fun, some of the character's rescue dates: 6th Mar-Casey 9th Mar- Matt 17th Mar- Shaundi 25th Mar- Pierce 15th Apr- Johnny So again it's not actually a full 5 years, but I feel like it's close enough that one would term it "5 years later"

2021: Gat out of Hell. Idk I felt like placing Kinzie's birthday in May and it fit for story reasons and stuff. I'm not the biggest fan of GOOH. On balance it does add some important stuff to my story but... meh.

2022: Start of my fanfic future section. (February) I feel like I could add more and more dates but as time goes on, the reasoning for where they're placed becomes more and more of a case of "because I said so" 🤣

[nerdstreak]

I am extremely late but who cares being late is cool 😎

I looked over the songs you put in your pyg!au playlist, they're cool! Whenever you have the time and energy, I'd love to listen to why you chose the songs you did and what they represent! Whether it fits a personality trait, a story beat, or is just something you or Con.nor would actually listen to

(I enjoy making playlists myself, even if I don't do it much, and I do genuinely want to hear you ramble about it)

ok,,, i suppose i could Go Off a little bit abt my song choices thank u,,,

but its still gonna be under a cut ok here we go

let you down: so this is p much connor's general feelings as he progresses through the cases, not succeeding enough to learn about deviants. since hannah is a part of cyberlife, he has another face besides amanda to put to any disappointment he feels is being directed towards him, even if she's never expressed that. this really culminates in the next chapter :3

all these things ive done: connor knows hannah is one of the very few people he can go to, also "ive got soul but im not a soldier" hits

beneath the mask: both of them sort of mask themselves and are afraid of showing their true selves around others

cold heart pnau mix: first verse is def connor catching feelings, also i just always like some good good elton on my playlists (another contender was goodbye yellow brick road, and while its not on here i like to think thats a song they like slow dancing to)

divinity: some future-y porter robinson and the simple lyrics fit well enough

i hear a symphony: PERFECT deviancy song no one can change my mind

i really wanna stay at your house: more future-y techno, definitely more of a 'songs they like to listen to' vibe than strictly plot-related

in her eyes: CHAPTER 4 NAMESAKE LETS GO it was called that originally because the first scene of 5 was supposed to be part of it and really played into the lyrics and emotion of the song

instant crush: more synths!! and again more vibes of just putting all your trust into one person you love

iris: WHEN EVERYTHING'S MADE TO BE BROKEN, I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW WHO I AAAM!!! a recent addition thanks to my best friend having never heard the song before reminding me it fits for them

just the way you are (the less cheesy billy joel one): neither of them would change a thing about the other :)

lay all your love on me: who doesnt love some abba, plus like hell either of them are gonna share devotion to anyone else

like real people do: self explanatory waaaaa this song is just so soft

mr blue sky: hey you with the pretty face, welcome to the human race!! blame the prtl fic absolutely lol, but dammit if it doesnt fit both my favorite blue robots

once upon a dream: a small spoiler, but hannah did dream about connor before she went on to finalize his design

past lives: sort of an overall connah song with all the verses i have for this ship, finding each other and being intrinsically linked in every universe

rhinestone eyes: more of a beginning-of-the-ship song, where feelings are more distant but there's still that spark of attachment

somewhere only we know: before hannah started on the rk800 project, she was starting to get a bit jaded working for cyberlife, but he sparked her passion again and now wants to rely on him, and in turn he relies on her too, someone that can listen without judgement, just as he does for her

steal the show: purely put it here cuz that one scene in elemental made me think of them :)

yellow: gentle vibes of wanting to do anything and everything for the other person

you might think: no matter how other people might judge an android/human relationship, neither of them truly care what others think in the end, because all they need and want is each other

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 8.29.23

I did more than nothing this week, which was something. I guess.

I really do want to get back to work on Ductwork, but it's Renji's birthday this week and I wanted to have something postable. Obviously, it would be fun and cool if I could finish that porno I started, but I was struggling with that, and I wanted to divert my brain a little. I do not remember exactly why or how, but I got it in my head that I wanted to write some Renji & Momo Academy horsing around and I came up with something good for that, and I started it. Sounds great, right? It grew in my head a little, but it still seemed pretty do-able, and in a wild thing that never happens, I had both a good ending in mind and a title, and I was feeling good. I even got a whopping 700 words of it written.

Then I got hit with an incredibly stupid and possibly unpublishable, like, future chapter of this thing, on the presumption that it turned into some sort of long anthology of Renji-Momo-Kira-and-sometimes-Rukia stories, who does want that? Everyone wants that. Everyone except me who has to write it. Well, I do want to write it, but I also want to write the story that I am way way super behind on and planned to spend my fall on. Anyway, having no willpower whatsoever (my general writing rule is that when I want to write something, I let myself write it, because the feeling is fleeting and unobtainable under artificial conditions) and write 2100 words that I honestly do not know what I am supposed to do with, aside from let them sit in my drafts for four years until I dredge them out again. o____o

Also, the porno is up to 2871, an increase of 458 words, wrung out of me one by painful one.

Also, I re-read the one Big Scene I really like in Ductwork and it's so irritating to having something this good and to still need, like 50,000 words to go around it.

In other news, I drew a thing. It's...Renji adjacent, so I'm gonna post it on the 31st, since I probably won't have anything else. It's fine, it can be Renji's birthday until I say it's not. (Oh shit I just remembered I have 80% of a Renji - Orihime fic that I found in my drafts that I was hoping to dust off and finish for the Renji - Orihime Birthday Interregnum. Maybe that's still do-able)

I have definitely gotten into a place with my drawing (and my writing is started to go there too, I am afraid) where trying to do anything seems too big and too hard and not worth starting, but I'm really trying hard to fight back against that. I want to figure out something to do, like redrawing screenshots or something, which will take a lot of the hard "picking a pose" up-front friction out of the activity, because I was really close to not-sucking for a while there, and then I lost all my enthusiasm for it. :(

Anyway, the kids went back to school, so the house is a lot quieter this week. They're really good kids, I don't want anyone to ever think I don't like my kids or something, but I get really exhausted being around other people, and it's like every muscle in my body relaxes if I get the house to myself even for a bit. (Mr. P is still here, but it's better than everyone). It also helps my motivation, because I say to myself, "I've got until 3 to get my own stuff done" and then it's Mom-on-call time again and that's honestly really helpful to my executive function.

Grand total: 3319 words and one drawing, distinctly not bad

PS: Despite it resulting in some productivity, I do not at all like the feeling of being scatterbrained like this, it makes me very overwhelmed and short-tempered. I've also been getting a lot of asks lately and it was making those feelings even worse, so I've closed my ask box until I feel like I've got my brain under control again.

[giggly-squiggily]

Do you have any advice for someone who wanna start writing but is too scared and don't know where to start

you seem really cool and your writing is truly amazing and I wish you a good day or night!

Hey anon! Firstly- thank you so much for the kind words! I appreciate them immensely, and I wish the same to you :) I'm not the best with advice, but I'll share what I've learned from my time here on Tumblr :3

Under the cut for length :3

Being scared is a completely valid feeling, especially when we're first starting out. Hell- it's still scary some days, and I've been doing this since October 2019 😅

I will say though- that fear gets easier to manage the longer you're doing it. What starts off as anxiety on whether or not people are gonna like your work turns into a feeling of excitement as you get ready to share your creation.

Does it make hitting the post button any easier? Sometimes. Are they're days where I wanna launch myself out a window after I press the post button and run Charlotte from Black Clover style?

You betcha! :D But when you love doing something, and you wanna do it bad enough, it's so worth it :) I think everyone here has felt those nervous jitters to some degree when we first started out in our little community (or whatever community you ultimately find yourself in), so you're never alone, anon :)

All that being said- there's never any pressure or time frame for when you're ready. Hobbies like writing are meant to be fun and relaxing, so if you know you're not ready to make your debut on Tumblr, you don't have to. When you are ready, you'll know- and you'll be able to hit that post button! All and all- I'm rooting for you, anon! I hope when you are ready to start writing here, you'll have only good times and an absolute blast! (And of course- if you ultimately choose to write for yourself alone and not post it- I hope that your writing journey is a fun one full of things you wanna write and see with your favorite characters and settings! :D)

As for where to start- that's ultimately up to you. I can't tell you how to start it, but I can give you some quick tips (And also- if anyone wants to hop into the replies and share their advice, please feel free to do so!)

1.) Formatting is key. It doesn't have to be anything fancy-shmancy; just be sure to space out paragraphs and use proper punctuation so your work is readable. Don't sweat over the occasional typo- I know my work is always littered with them ajejrajer; and if you ever need help with your writing- don't be afraid to reach out and ask :) There are plenty of us here who'll gladly help you out if you need it!

2.) Don't be afraid to interact with people. I've seen a lot of really cool peeps here in the community, and I can say for the most part we're pretty chill klerjkajkrjk I myself am fairly awkward in DMs but I don't bite unless you want me to (Jokes!...Unless 👀 karkekjlarkjlerkj) Okay but really- the best part about being in a community is having people around you who like similar things you do and to share ideas with. It can be a bit intimidating at times (especially if you're like me and have social anxiety plus you've been a fan of a lot of people prior to making a blog) but it's worth it. I'm truly grateful for the people I've met here in this community- both those who I talk to on a daily basis and those who I might only interact with on occasion :) It's a lot less scary once you get to know everyone here jkaekrjajkr :3

3.)The golden rule: Have fun with it. Highlight it, circle it, put Patrick Star in fishnets on it- this is the golden rule!!! Tumblr is a hellsite that can fall off the face of the planet at any given moment, so we might as well make our time here as fun as possible! :D

Going back to the whole writing for you thing- if there's fandoms you love and want to write for, do it! Is it niche? Write it anyway! Has anyone heard of it? Well, now they have, haven't they? Is there literally no demand for this fandom/character/setting? Well- if you want it, then there's your demand. Don't be afraid to change it up and make your blog/writing whatever feels best. Crack fics, serious fics, a combination of everything in between- whatever you feel like making, I say do it! :D As long as your having fun, that's all that matters!

Ultimately- how you go about your writing journey is your call, anon. I don't know if anything I said today helped, but I'm rooting for you and all the things you'll make. If you ever decide to make your writings public here on Tumblr, let me know- I'll gladly check them out! :D Take your time, have fun, curate your experience and kick some butt, friend!

[tickling-stringz]

uh oh is that me comin back with the DHMIS tickle headcanons part 3????

YOU BET YOUR SWEET BIPPY I AM

this time it's the WEB SHOW TEACHERS!!!!

again, im using like, human designs of them, cuz i have no idea how to write tickle headcanons on literal objects 💀

🎨Sketchbook🎨

• Sketchbook is a ler leaning switch, and no I don't take criticism. (jk)

• She can easily use her paintbrushes, pens, or pencils to get her lees absolutely DYING.

• Tries to paint on her lee's feet, saying they're "such a wiggly canvas!"

• Uses lots of teasing to break down her tougher lees, whether it's verbal or physically giving slow and methodical tickles on their worst spot.

• As a lee, she loves to give the ler a chase.

• If she does get caught, she tries to tease the ler anyway, going "Ohhh, big bad wolfie caught me, huh? Whatcha gonna do? Bite me?"

• She talks a big game, but she will almost immediately fall into squeals and giggles as soon as those fingers touch her sides.

• Expect a LOT of wriggling around and flailing arms. Be careful when you try to tickle her.

⏲️Tony⏲️

• 50/50 switch

• Now, you know DAMN WELL, this tall long-legged mf can pin most people down quite easily.

• One of his favorite things is to slide two of his fingers clockwise on a lee's worst spot as he teaches them about time.

• "And so, the long minute hand always follows the short hour hand- Now, why are you laughing so much? I'm afraid we'll have to start over if you aren't listening!"

• As ruthless as he can be, he can be easily wrecked as well.

• Try running your fingers under his chin and on his neck. He will be DEAD.

• To really get him laughing and pleading though, GET HIS MFIN SIDES!!!!

• He's got a pretty low chuckling laugh, but he can start to shriek and even do his alarm noises when someone hits a sweet spot.

🦋Shrignold🦋

• Kinda like Tony, he's a 50/50 switch.

• You can NOT tell me he doesn't think tickling is a form of love language. (And I mean it already is lmao)

• He sometimes likes to tickle his other forest friends, but it's only when he feels he's in a good mood.

• "Aww! Look at how squirmy you are! You better not let anyone else find out about this~!"

• He likes nuzzling as a form of tickling. He even uses his fluffy wings when he can, giving the lee a fluffy surprise!

• Now, this man loves to be tickled, and even welcomes it when he's in a happy mood.

• If he gets his lee pretty good, and knows his lee likes to tickle back, he will open his arms up and sit up going, "Okay~! Me next!"

• Even though he likes being tickled, he squirms a lot and tries to protect himself with his wings and arms.

• Has a dorky higher-pitched laugh.

• He can't take a lot of tickling for too long, but as long as he can get some breaks, he would love to keep being the lee.

• Now, one last thing about him being a ler... If he is in a bad mood and you try to get him. He will show NO MERCY when he absolutely wrecks you.

🖥️Colin🖥️

• Mainly a lee, but only for the few people he lets touch him.

• Do not touch him if you are NOT one of he people he trusts. He won't wreck you, but he will straight up kill you probably.

• However, if you are one of the few people he trusts, he will be surprisingly calm.

• He still struggles a bit as he giggles and shrieks, but he doesn't straight up scream or tries to throw people off of him.

• Y'know for being a computer boy, I really like making him a ticklish lil thing.

• "Ah!! He-ehEHEY! Stehehehaha~!" (But imagine that with his little computer-y glitchy voice omg 🥺)

• Ticklish pretty much everywhere. Sides, feet, stomach, neck, ears, under the chin, underarms, wherever it is, he will give you some sort of reaction.

• HOWEVER- if you manage to get his pointer hand and just wiggle your fingers on there, he will crumble. He will be dead within minutes.

🥩Steak Guy🥩

• Mainly a ler.

• Are you kidding me, of course he would be a ler omg

• He doesn't mind tickling people as long as if they are comfortable with it.

• He always makes sure to ask and doesn't sneak up on his lees.

• Kinda like Tony and Sketch, he likes to "teach lessons" while he tickles his lees.

• "Now, this is roughly where your large intestine is! My, my, isn't that a giggly org-ahn~?"

• Focuses mainly on the abdomen of his lee; ribs, belly, sides, even the bellybutton. He does sometimes tickle other places, but he sticks with the stomach usually to go with his lessons.

• Loves, loves, LOVES to hear his lees laugh, no matter what it sounds like. But his soft spot is when they snort. When his lees snort, he just feels more inclined to tickle.

🌠Larry🌠

• Alcoholic lamp my beloved.

• From some fanart I've seen, he's chubby and I SUBSCRIBE TO THAT IDEA 1000000%

• A lee-leaning switch.

• He's typically a lee because he's too drunk/sleepy to really do anything.

• Squish. That. Tum.

• He has a quiet giggle/chortle, but he can get kind of loud when he starts to wake up.

• "Mnhmhmhm..! Quihihiiiit~..!"

• It's easy for him to give up on even trying to fight back, but the rare moments he does... Run.

• Since he's a bit bigger, he can also pin people pretty easy.

• His tickling method is slow and lazy, and he teases his lees by trying to sing them a lullaby or tell them that "It's time for sleepy-bye~... Shh, shh, shhhhh..."

• This method proves to work for most of his lees, as most of them end up getting tired from his sleepy lil tickles.

ok ok thank u guys for reading this cringe and i hope u like it, mwah mwah mwah 👉👈💗💗

[snow-and-saltea]

I posted 8,493 times in 2022

That's 5,858 more posts than 2021! (this is not an improvement!! but its okay!)

25 posts created (0%)

i dont even make original posts bc i am too opinionated and i cant be bothered to say it to people i dont already talk to it about (aka not gonna talk about it to ppl i dont care about sorry FJSKFJS)

8,468 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@paleasamoon (🤠🐢!!!!)

@fflewddurfflam7 (🦊🐢!!!!)

@thecookiemonster77 (🍪🐢!!!)

@a-shout-to-the-void

@obert-scobert

I tagged 3,811 of my posts in 2022

#hey cookie - 598 posts (HI COOKIE 💛💛💛💛💛🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢💛💛💛🐢🐢🐢🐢 certified cookieposting on main!!!!!!!!! tagging each other in cats and poetry, so true)

#vid - 388 posts

#cats are valid - 354 posts (real... im kinda embarrassed w my cat tag and i wanna change it to smth else but the archival consequences.... the horrors....)

#arts and smarts - 325 posts (fucken love art babey!!!!!!)

#fave - 157 posts

#vyn richter - 138 posts (cant believe i vynpost so much.... need 2 fix that next year)

#tex - 126 posts (HI TEX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT W MY RAMBLING IN THE TAGS ASS JFAKSLJFAKSGJKLASG)

#genshin impact - 117 posts

#i create as i speak - 116 posts

#*bookmark - 106 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#im happy he made it and that everyone was cheering for him and one of them was ready to help him out dghjgjhjhk that's so cute 🤧🤧🤧🤧

from this vid i rb'd!!! it didn't keep the caps though!!!

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

went a little insane while showering today thinking of miss medea and psyche from hit webtoon series your throne

8 notes - Posted May 11, 2022

#4

for the chara ask.. rosa 👀? and i also cannot resist putting marius in here too

rosa, tot:

who? | only know their name | loathe | ugh | overrated | indifferent | dead | alive | just okay | cute | badass | my baby | hot | want to marry | favorite 

literally where do i even start. i love her so much that she's legit like, one of my fave fictional female charas!!! i love how sensible and logical she is, and how kind and sensitive she is too. those two sounds like opposites of each other but she balances having both traits so well. i just think she is such a great otome protagonist and if any company wants to try and write a good "self insertable" protag who is both convincing and cute they should look to her. loml 🧎

marius von hagen

who? | only know their name | loathe | ugh | overrated | indifferent | dead (his mom) | alive (him) | just okay | cute | badass | my baby | hot | want to marry | favorite 

he's a funny funky guy!!! he's my blorbo in law cus both you and angel (my other friend) like him. so i kind of get appreciation through osmosis. tbh i dont have a lot to say about him bc i think his character as a standalone is simple, but when he's in a group setting? i think that shines the most. i actually talked w angel a bit about this but we were discussing how vyn is afraid of losing rosa emotionally while marius is afraid of losing rosa physically. i read his personal card where he gets a panic attack after rosa gets kidnapped and that ending was literally..... the most poetic shit i've ever read. LIKE. his personal story and card just super appeals to the poet / artist in me bc the twist in words, the symbolism, the rose and the snake that takes turns to guard each other.... im screaming and wailing and throwing up. vyn could NEVER tbh, he's very deliberate and his acts of affection still has an underlying feeling of wanting to impress rosa at all times and to show his heart to her, but w marirosa it literally feels like they're romantic soulmates bc of the writing. does that make sense? like it feels so organic and romantic in a way vyn's measured actions and words can't replicate. i went feral at this part

9 notes - Posted June 23, 2022

#3

for the character asks vyn diluc lumine and kaeya!!

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE thank you for giving me the chance to talk about my blorbos!!!

vyn richter:

who? | only know their name | loathe | ugh | overrated | indifferent | dead | alive | just okay | cute | badass | my baby | hot | want to marry | favorite 

yeah i bolded the who? one don't worry about it!! /j anyways yeah i Like this man a normal amount its not like ive written sm threads on him already yeah. i'm completely normal

except i'm NOT

i started out thinking my fave would be artem cus vyn seemed too pretentious for me at first and i still have trauma from the last time i liked a white haired and golden eyed guy in otome cus that bitch disappointed me so much i literally can't even look at him without going >:T

he's such a cool character to me, i love how contradictory he is while being completely consistent characterization wise. by contradictory i don't mean that he doesn't say what he mean or doesn't mean what he says, but the way he views himself vs how he views rosa vs how he views other people (derogatory) is quite ironic. i love how he loves rosa because she's beautiful both inside and out, in the sense that she is straight laced, honest and not mired with existential or moral complexities that stop her from being kind, realistic and faithful to her values. (in fact, when facing those moral complexities, her true character shines more because of the way she isn't stagnated by indecision or analysis-paralysis. but that's another talk for another day i could literally go on and on about her)

i like it a lot because he's both a bit of rosa in him and a bit of the cynical jadedness he dislikes in other people. as a doctor, he wants to cure his patients, and he secretly harbours some hope, at the back of his mind, that people are better than he thinks they are, that when presented the opportunity for change and growth they'll choose it— which is why i think he "tests'" rosa in his stories so much. cus he wants to see a diff outcome come from her!! to him, i feel like there's a bit of him idealism projected onto her, smth like saying: "i tried and failed, but i want to see how you do it, and what new thing you'll show me with your way of doing things." in ideals and visions, he relates to rosa.

however, in many ssr stories, and even one sr (the iconic false tears story) he shows the pettiest and most spiteful parts of himself that he's tried to keep hidden from rosa, where he indulges his egocentric beliefs that makes him feel like the things he's doing are justified, as long as the end goal is a positive net of "justice" in the world. he also sometimes shows how incredibly judgemental and harsh he can be, because he always thinks he knows better and is more objective / morally superior than other people he dislikes. in practice and methodology, he relates to the people he dislikes. it's like a mirror that shows the ugliest parts of himself. if he dislikes them like any other normal person would dislike an asshole and then move on with their life, why would that be such a big psychological trigger for him? it clearly means more to him than he tries to hide, so he tries to make a clear line separating his own "cruelty" and other people's "cruelty" and how he's better than them cus he had the right intentions in mind.

(that's not how it works btw babygirl. but issokay ur kinda fucked up i'd like to put u under a microscope)

i like how he slowly comes to realise that contradiction, too. not verbally said, but i interpret his recent growth in stories as someone who knows he's "ugly" inside and filled contempt for everyone—although sometimes he dresses his actions in a more gentlemanly or "fair" so that it's still TECHNICALLY the right thing to do even if the way he did it was unethical. at first their relationship progression was "i want her to see the most impressive parts of me" > "i want her to rely on and be influenced by me" > "i want her to know my feelings but only the ones that are peer reviewed to be palatable" > "i want her to see me for who i am and accept me, even if i can't accept the entire truth of myself". and i think that fuckign ROCKS

concluding statement: if the road to hell was paved with good intentions vyn is building a freeway. but rosa is changing his lanes!!! she changed my lanes too if u know what i mean wink wink nudge nudge

anyways yeah im mentally sound and in perfect health about vynrosa why do you ask

diluc ragnvindr:

who? | only know their name | loathe | ugh | overrated | indifferent | dead | alive | just okay | cute | badass | my baby | hot | want to marry | favorite 

i like him!!! iirc he was my second 5* after jean? and then i used him as a dps for a while! i wish they gave him fluffier or longer hair. i think in game diluc doesn't really do enough justice to his characterization or lore bc i feel like he looks a bit "bland" in story execution compared to the other charas. oh well, virtues and vices of being an early game chara! i like him best when he's in big brother mode and i cannot thank fanartists enough who portray him being a good big bro to the kids like klee, diona, bennett, fischl and razor. i love it!!!

lumine:

who? | only know their name | loathe | ugh | overrated | indifferent | dead | alive | just okay | cute | badass | my baby | hot | want to marry | favorite 

she's so goddamn FUNNY and cute?????? i like the progression of her character and her growing into her own personality in the recent quests, i think they wrote it really well. have you listened to her voice lines where she talks w paimon? they show sm of her personality and she's just so... witty and dry and sarcastic but her voice is so soft that it makes u double-back and go, "sorry, run that by me again?" i love her sm. although, i don't really interact w the fandom a lot because they're very noisy in hating her for some reason. and it gets tiring to hear TwT i get my lumine food from anng rt'ing stuff on twt or on tumblr! consuming fandom the exact way it was intended: i only see what my friends will share w me!!!

kaeya alberich:

who? | only know their name | loathe | ugh | overrated | indifferent | dead | alive | just okay | cute | badass | my baby | hot | want to marry | favorite 

another case of sadly being an early game chara so his execution was a bit sloppy TwT his lore is so funkin cool and his personal story and how he got his vision was, imo, the coolest and most emotionally impactful out of everyone else? ofc he and shenhe shares similar patterns in their history and how they were treated, but i think it hits harder for me bc like. GOD. overridden by guilt for the death of diluc's dad, he confronts him and tells him the truth of who he is. and at the emotional height of his life where diluc turns to fight him, he's given a vision if only to protect himself and his heart so that he can still go on and fulfill whatever "destiny" his dad had marked out for him, if he chooses that as his right.

i still think its meaningful bc even in game diluc never shows any signs that he genuinely, truthfully, dislikes kaeya. so while they still have this unspoken history between them that neither of them seem willing to talk about, there's a nostalgic and sad feeling of people who drifted apart brushing by each other time and again, and silently forgiving the other but not making it known at all. i can't find it rn but there's sm diluc and kaeya comics where its all about sibling hurt / comfort and reconciliation and making it known that they care about each other verbally, instead of accepting it as is in actions, bc they're hesitant to break the ice. GOD

14 notes - Posted June 22, 2022

#2

saw this post and immediately my purpose in life for the next 37 minutes was crystal clear to me

couldn't have done this without my fellow vyn and marius dunker, @00uroboros

23 notes - Posted August 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

fuckign losing it rn

38 notes - Posted July 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

Yee Haw! thats it babey!!!

[eggsnspanky]

This was gonna be a Reddit post, but I'm afraid they'll find it. It's a wild enough story that it might just get attention, and I can't risk that. On Tumblr, it will disappear into the ether.

So, like, I'm a puppy dog. Hit me, beat me, shout at me, and I'll still come back, hoping that THIS TIME you'll love me. I never cared about myself, and see myself as a possession to be owned. So, I just keep forgiving them.

My family always told me I was crazy.

I'm telling my story, because it's happening to my baby sister, now.

I had ONE psychotic break in high school. I believed in these fantastical stories of escapism, and would wander out at night, hoping to get spirited away by supernatural forces. I was never violent. I was never dangerous. I have never hit or hurt anyone in my life. The psychotic break happened because of stress. I was caring for two children while being physically and emotionally abused, and while in only AP or accelerated classes. (Mom said she didn't want me in the r-slur classes. Classy, right?) AND I HAD UNDIAGNOSED LUPUS. It started pretty soon after puberty. I started getting sickly often. So, yeah. I was a little stressed, and I broke a bit. I was APPARENTLY also Autistic, which made all of it that much harder and more confusing. And had DID. Like. How much can you ruin a person, damn. 😭

I called myself crazy because I saw ghosts. That's a whole 'nother discussion, but they actually BELIEVED that one!!! They're very superstitious, and would have me make sure that places were safe, and had me keep the house un-haunted!!! I actually have eyewitness accounts of hauntings that happen around me. I was a total ghost magnet. Things flying, electronics glitching, voices and shaking and the smells of death and burning... I learned how to keep spirits away. Yeah, it's a whole thing. THAT should have been the crazy part. THAT would have been a rational thing to call crazy, right???

But no!!! They witnessed the ghost stuff, and they believed that part!!!

So, like??? What exactly were they calling crazy!? Why did I ever even believe them!?

They even put me on antipsychotics, but I used them like tranquilizers. I was always so scared, and they helped. The only other instances of psychosis that WEREN'T debatably ghosts were because of medication withdrawals because my antipsychotics were empty. The antipsychotics did not get rid of the ghosts.

They would rewrite the past and change it to fit their own narrative. I have DID, yes. But I DON'T have amnesia. I forget things that my brain can't accept, though, so I never knew what to believe. They always tried to tell me that my brain couldn't be trusted. But I wrote every hard event in a journal as it happened, because I didn't trust my memories. And they would change the past. They would straight up LIE to me and everyone around me.

The middle sister, especially. She started hitting me when she hit puberty. I'm meek, quiet, and a pacifist. I've never hit anyone in my life. Violence scares me, and I hate it. I have ONE alter with the capacity for violence, but even that one is a gentle bleeding heart. She's just crazy overprotective, and dangerous if she feels her life is in danger. But the middle sister was a child I raised. I loved her. She was one of the ones I wanted to protect. I have never raised a hand to her.

But she tells people that I do. She'll do bad things to me and rewrite the story with mom. She'll hit and hurt me, and act like a victim. And no one stopped her.

Her dad abused me, physically. He would hit, kick, and manhandle me. Drag me like a sack of potatoes. Make me clean and watch the kids while mom was at work. I had a brother, back then. Two years younger than middle sister. Hit by a car at 6 years old. (I was 9 when she was born, dammit. I couldn't raise a newborn...)

I would tell her out right. I don't like when you do that. It's scary. It reminds me of your dad. I can't do this again. And she would cry and rage that she doesn't like being compared to an abuser. (Then maybe stop hitting me!?!?) When I stopped talking to her, because even though she was a teen she genuinely scared me, she acted like I was the worst person on earth, that I was a manipulative abuser using silence against her, that I was traumatizing her. I was just scared and afraid of getting hit more, man... I never knew what would set her off. She's so damn scary. I shake when I'm near her. I don't like that kind of unpredictable behavior...

Then, her game changed. She would hit me and spin the story like it was my fault, or self defense. Even when I was scared of her, I still saw her as my baby. I have never raised a hand to her. I was always careful not to hurt her, even if she was actively trying to hurt me. One instance, she was mad that I had started helping less around the house.

This girl makes an art of belittling me and putting me down. Even when she was young, she would make fun of me, and say that she hoped she never ended up pathetic like me. I just accepted it. I WAS pathetic. I was sickly and crazy and useless on my own. That's what I thought.

So, she decided I wasn't worthy of my passenger seat in the car. I was working full time, and all my money was going to my mom and sister. My body couldn't keep up, though, and I couldn't do my usual housework on top of it. This pissed off my mom and sister. Sister sat in my seat, and told me I was unworthy. I think she was 17. I was tired of the disrespect. I told her if she didn't move, I would sit in her lap. She didn't move. I warned her multiple times. But yeah. I did my best to keep my weight off of her, and sat on her lap, making sure to avoid ACTUALLY squishing her. She got pissed, tried to push me off a bit, before she relented. When she got up, she punched me hard in the back and cussed me out. It bruised, and hurt for a long time.

The story she told everyone else is this. She sat in the front to help her carsicknesses. I was a bitch about it, and sat all the way on her, and she couldn't breathe. She was panicking and batting at me to get me to move. She didn't punch me at all. She just kinda "ended up" hitting me in her panic.

When I confronted her, she said I was crazy and didn't remember. I wrote it down that day. My husband saw the bruise.

Mom caught on to the game, and joined.

They told me I was crazy, before, but it reached a fever pitch.

They never wanted me to leave. They convinced me I was unable to live alone. They convinced me that I needed them to survive, that I was hopeless, useless, insane, a danger to myself... They rioted when I tried to move out. They tried to villainize my husband. They told lies about him to me. They acted like I was choosing him over them by leaving. They wanted all my time, money attention, energy, and if I gave it to anyone else I was a traitor. They only wanted me gone after I started Demon worshipping. They got scared when paranormal activity flared in coordinance to my mistreatment. If they went too far, spirits retaliated. They said I was inviting evil into the home, destroyed my altars, and said I had to find a new home.

The baby... My sweet, beautiful baby...Witnesed this. She's witnessed everything. But she's too good to be ruined. This wonderful, darling little child has never raised a hand to me. And when she saw how the spirits protected me, she wasn't scared. She wanted the same protection. She took videos for proof of abuse, but they would steal her electronics to destroy the evidence of what REALLY happened.

My husband and I love her more than anything. We had to move back in with them during COVID. I got too sick to work. We didn't know at the time, but the Lupus had reached my organs. Nowadays, I can barely walk around without feeling weak and shaky. So, I was back with my baby. And It was like looking into a tragic mirror.

They were doing it to her. They would tell her she was spoiled, sassy, a liar, a lazy, bad child. They would yell at her when she cried and call her an award winning actress. They would tell her lies. Convince her that she was always at fault. Rewrite the truth so that she looked horrible. They talk about her like they hate her, but then say they love her. They cuss at her. They HIT her. And I can't do a thing.

I've never had the strength to act against them. I'm too timid. I'm too submissive. They've broken me. All I can do is act as a support.

When my husband and I lived there, we would run like HELL if we heard a cry. We would hold her and listen to her. We would cheer her up and talk to her.

We moved out two weeks ago.

Now who's gonna hold her when she cries? When I think about it, I just can't help but cry, myself. She has no one in that house, now. I feel sick. She has no one.

She's so much smarter than I am, though. She knows what abuse is. She knows she's being lied to, taken advantage of, treated wrongly.

I had always accepted it. I figured, I'm not a person like everyone else is. I'm different. I'm less. I'm a pet. A dog. Even less. A burdenous object to be owned and passed around like a disease. I've had a dog complex since preschool. As an adult, I've even cried and slept in the dog kennel OF MY OWN VOLITION when I felt I was a burden, because I felt it was where I belonged and what I deserved.

But not my baby. Not my sweet child. She's better than I was. She's beautiful and clever and sassy and SO STRONG. She stands up for herself. She talks back. She calls them out. And they respond with even more cruelty. They steal from her. They lie to her. They hurt her.

She stayed with my husband and I this weekend, and was finally able to talk.

There were cameras in every main room in their house. They watch them and spy on us. We have to watch what we say, there. We aren't allowed to speak freely. Mom reads our journals and hunts down our social medias. (Even writing this is scary. But they aren't on Reddit.) My baby couldn't speak freely without the fear of spying.

So, when she stayed with us for the weekend, she unloaded EVERYTHING. She told me what they had been doing, that they're lying to her and saying SHE'S the liar, that they're making her feel like she's going crazy. It was like looking into a mirror, and I feel so sick. My baby. My beautiful baby. She's all alone with no one to defend her.

Everyone in the family is on the side of those two. They've built their castle on lies, and it was just too attractive to ignore. I'm crazy little me, untrustworthy and dangerous. My sister is a spoiled liar and possibly a psychopath. That's the story they tell everyone.

I believed what they said about me. I even tried to lean into it. My sense of self was so fucked, one of our alters actually TRIED to be "bad" and "evil" but she was too gentle to hurt anyone!!!

But my baby has my husband and I. We tell her that she's so good. We hold her. We listen to her. We encourage good behavior and try to talk her out of bad ones. And she's SO sweet to us. She's respectful. She's loving. She's so attached. She said she wishes she could live with us.

Live with us. In a broken trailer. That has holes in the walls big enough to climb through. That doesn't have plumbing that works. That is 1/3 rotted, so you can't walk on the floor in places without fear of falling through. That is in a rough side of town, so you always hear gunshots and sirens. She has to sleep on a pull out couch bed in the living room. The doors don't close. It's tiny. We can barely afford to live or provide for her.

But she wants to live here. To her, THIS is better than her current home. This shaky little tin can.

I get it. I'm happier than I've ever been. I'm elated. I don't have to be afraid. I don't have to worry about being watched. I don't constantly hear yelling through the doors. I don't have to shake and cower because memories are just ASSAULTING my brain.

But my sister is still in Hell. She's stuck there, without me. Without my husband. Without anyone to hold her and tell her she's good. That she deserves more. That they're liars when they tell her that she's a bad kid.

It hurts more than anything. I would take the abuse all over again to save her, even if it WAS the end of me.

I would die in a heartbeat to save this child. I love her so much it's painful.

And I don't know how to save her. I don't know how to help her.

My husband and I take her as often as allowed, without being suspicious. We already plan to fix the rotted room to make it HER personal room. We're trying to get clothes and personal products for her. We tell her that no matter what happens, we will always love her, and that we will always be a safe space for her.

But we can't save her, and it kills me.

I'm not posting this on Reddit.

If any of them find it, I will actually be ruined.

I'll never be able to see her again.

I can't let that happen.

I just want to save my baby.

I NEED her to be okay. She can't end up broken, like me. She's more than I am.

I love my mommy. I love her so much. She helps me financially. She gives me gifts. She gives me affection. But she also does all this... I was a puppy dog. I was submissive. Doting. A doormat. Selfless to my own detriment. Adoring. Loyal. Everything she wanted me to be.

But my sister is not. My baby is not sweet to her mom. Mom is not sweet to my baby. My middle sister is actively hostile. Those three only use harsh words at each other. Sweetness is a performance.

I don't know what to do or think.

I don't know how to save them.

DO NOT REBLOG, SHARE, OR REPOST. IF THEY EVER CATCH WIND OF THIS, THEY WILL TAKE MY BABY FOR GOOD AND RUIN ME.

[the-firebird69]

I'm sorry I yelled at you and so it's OK goes off and he's laughing then he said he felt bad a little bit but he's OK and he said good people don't take it that hard and he likes to show them what he can do. And I'll tell you what it seems like his horse and he says it seems like hers but OK and it does it was a mayor and she says that all the time you have dried out with a horse so you see the horse over there talking to someone so weird that that's what they do so my **** got a little mango and people going what do you sit like and this is the part that hurts every once in a while I find a whole bunch of guys puckering up and Yeah we continue this but really it was bleeding and not too bad and I said why do I do that. The horse made sense he just kind of forced it to happen but really you have to do other things down there and we just hired and we don't bother holding ourselves up make his **** bleed when he tries to ride his DI kill eternity when I try and try to ride me being myself and who and what I am the Macs are saying and that's Mac proper to make his **** bleed. You're probably doing it with the horse too it's like a big deal with you guys 'cause you're old in this bunch of old horses. I started laughing 'cause he said old people and old horses you understand it you got it we know it and I started to laugh now saying yeah that's what they say not usually but this is a smart person but boy that is a weird story nothing went so damn fast I had it on the road I knew about the front wheel some watching it because it would never stay on i'm going like 30 or 40 and I hit it and it still had half throttle i'm going like 55 60 and I had to slow down and I said something's wrong and it was already loose so I went back slow and I said this thing goes so damn fast we should not bring it to him it's illegal since we'll have to do something so you get mad but then you said well you know he didn't put it on right in the news house but it's too dangerous it's very dangerous so we're doing all this stuff with ebikes and we're thinking we're cool and getting whale stuff and then you said it's a white bike and it's four ladies and you're saying it to Dan somehow and you said no it's a lady and you showed Washington with the horse's **** and it's probably his wife who painted it and said he's an animal and they do that. So we are kind of in awe that he figured it out but then the foreigners are attacking it he says that's Why so we gotta get some of that because this is terrible and I looked at Dave and he had a heavy heart and he was afraid in Walmart and he said don't look at me the woman are gonna be mad and the women are mad and still are and he said wow this is craziness and they all are and some of the men and then they're seeing it too we don't want you bothering him and he he says this black beauty might not let me ride him You might try and throw me he might try and throw me he doesn't hate me and I'm his friend but it's a male thing and white beauty will give me a ride if I need one and I got thrown by the damn bike so it's time to laugh saying boy that is ridiculous and I remember if the horse was a male or female and it looked like a male and he's trying to toss you off or something it says you can't just get up on me and the point is that he says he was controlling him we saw that happen and he got mad and you were controlling him real close so he's zooming off and going hey and then he says it's not for you or me it's just what happens every day he said well I don't know what it is yeah I do you have a little game now so he goes off and he says now I can play around with it and he started doing it and people loved it and said this horse is fast and powerful he started eating and felt better and you hugged him and he's he's saying my wife is over there and she was said good man is over here and she says I've seen you before and it goes like this they know that you're a spirit kind of. And that we can't really do it that much and they say we look like ****. So I'm examining moretommy f

[dzpenumbra]

5/2/23

Good lord I'm tired. I slept like shit again. Really bad this time. Only like 5 hours total. And a very intense yoga routine. But... I did finish this...

So... not all is lost. I spent pretty much the whole day on it.

I don't really have much to say tonight, I'm just beyond exhausted. I need to find something to help sleep. And again, I've been too afraid of smoking weed. So... I think I'm going to find a good day with good vibes and get something immersive like minecraft set up and then smoke a little bit and see how I handle it, just to get reacquainted. And if it freaks me out, then figure out an alternative.

Again, really weird to be this scared of weed when I smoked every single night for months before I moved in here, and smoked every single night for the first like... 2 months that I was here. But my tolerance is 100% gone, I guarantee it. So... I'm a bit worried about getting hit really hard by it.

You know... when I was 17, I got my parents to buy me beer. Coors Original, I didn't even know beer or anything, I just wanted to drink. And I went walking into town with 2 Nalgenes full of Coors in my backpack, walking barefoot with a skate t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off and cargo shorts. When I got into town, I was pretty much done with the first Nalgene and had a good solid buzz going, and my friends pulled up when I was walking past a gas station. They were in their hippie van, they had an extra ticket to the Deep Purple and Joe Satriani show they were going to and wanted to see if I wanted to come with. And I, of course, without hesitation, said yes. And off we went. And I remember being in the parking lot, getting out of the van, chugging the last of my beer and eating a piece of pizza, walking barefoot across this asphalt parking lot. And when we got into the show, we went up to the barricade that separated the "lawn seats" and the actual... seats. And some couple came up to me and my friend, they were leaving and offered us... I shit you not... free second-row seats. And they insisted, so we took them. And I didn't even know the music, I didn't even know I was going to be there!

I used to be spontaneous. I used to say "yes". And now? I'm scared of smoking weed because it might give me a waking nightmare. And I'm often scared to go to sleep because it might give me a... sleeping nightmare. And it makes me understand part of what they mean when they say "oh, to be a kid again." It's not just the wonder and curiosity... it's the naiveté. Car accidents, diseases, mob violence, traumatic shit... those are things you see on the news (I guess today's analog would be social media), those are things that happen in movies and stories and games, those are things that happen to other people. They're removed. And it creates this sense of invulnerability.

To be completely honest, I saw a lot of this in the pandemic. A lot was denial, but that whole attitude of... "well, I'm not gonna get it", "well I don't know anyone who got it", "everyone I know who got it was fine". With the ones whose critical thinking can override their pride, once they see what it's capable of after it strikes close to home? They start taking shit seriously.

Idk, maybe a bad example, but it's something. Point being... I miss being that carefree, and all the good that came with it. I went from whitewater kayaking the day after a hurricane (which was unfathomably dangerous and I would not do again) to being afraid to smoke weed alone in my apartment on a monday afternoon. Or even at 4 AM to help with sleep.

Why? I don't even know. The emotion is just too strong, I guess.

I'm not going to solve this tonight, I just wanted to bring it up again for the umpteenth time. Weed has been a reliable remedy to help with sleep. I think it has to do with suppressing dreams. But I just don't want to wake up after 3 hours, sleep deprived, groggy, hearing weird noises coming from my super loud neighbors, still very high, and start freaking out. I just don't want to absorb that feeling of vulnerability. So, basically... if it works... I will sleep great and a ton of my recurring problems will be remedied. If it doesn't... I will have a waking nightmare for a few hours that's worse than me trying to sleep without weed. Worth the gamble?

If only I had literally anything in place as a contingency plan for freaking out. Like... anything. A happy place. Maybe that can be my thing to work on tomorrow, make a fucking happy place.

I am actually nodding off. I'm out.