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ollies-outies · 7 years

Note

After effects of a main superhero story, the antagonist tries to get life back to basic order, living a simple by-clock job life. They become seriously depressed, especially with reflecting on their mistakes as well as PTSD from the fight with the hero.

hi id like to entitle this piece: “i dont have depression, ptsd, and have only ever had a mild panic attack.” if i fucked anything up pls tell me so i can like? not fuck it up in the future.

[1888 words, warnings for suicide mention and all the other stuff i talked about]

As soon as the plan went sour, they’d all killed themselves. It had been a pact of sorts: better to die than see the plan fail.

But, of course, Benjamin had been too slow.

And now here he was.

He could still see the spot from the window (the stupid fucking McDonalds drive-through window), where Marie had died. He hadn’t been there when she’d pulled the pin, of course. But the giant bite her grenade had taken out of the cement and storefronts that the city still hadn’t managed to fill was all the proof he needed.

A blue Subaru pulled up, cutting off his view of the scene that he didn’t want to see anyways. A lady, bleached-blonde and middle-aged, poked her head out the window. Her knockoff Gucci sunglasses glinted light straight into Ben’s eyes.

“You ordered the salad, right?” He asked, trying to sound cheerful.

“And a coffee,” she said, not putting nearly as much effort into her cheer. As he handed her the food, she lowered her shades, squinting at him. “…you look familiar.”

He got that a lot. Even though he��d worn a mask during his time as public enemy number one, his image had been plastered on every newspaper at least once a week for a solid year or so; that kind of exposure tends to leave an imprint on people’s minds.

He wasn’t worried though. This woman didn’t expect the man who’d threatened to destroy the city on a near-monthly basis to be serving her Micky D’s takeout. So she didn’t make the connection. He shrugged at her. “I’ve just got one of those faces.”

Once the coffee was safely in her seat holder, she rolled up her window and drove away. But not before leaving him with her two cents: “Not with that scar, you don’t.”

Thanks for the reminder, ma'am, he thought at her. He would’ve said it out loud, but McDonald’s policy dictated that he avoid sassing customers. The scar, which ran from his forehead, down the bridge of his nose, and ended in the center of his cheek, had also happened on the day when it all went to shit.

Benjamin preferred not to think about it.

Which meant that, of course, the next five customers were spent actively trying not to think about the scar. Or Marie, or Jacob or Marcus or Lee. It worked about as well as it always did.

Four customers more, and then Alyssa, the manager, called him over. “I’m taking over at the window. You take the counter, ‘kay?”

He nodded. At least then he wouldn’t have to look at the crater. Marie’s crater.

With every customer that came through, Ben became more and more aware of the scar. People would look at him, and he was sure their eyes would flick to the scar for a moment before politely averting their gaze. It had faded over the two years since he’d got it, and he covered it up every morning. Apparently the concealer had rubbed off today.

The scar was throbbing by the time the man walked in. Even in civilian clothing, even after two years, Ben knew that face like the back of his hand: the tree-bark eyes, the dark hair curled like a Greek statue’s, the slightly upturned nose, bent to the left where it had broken and healed long ago.

It wasn’t a face Ben relished seeing.

A cold sweat sprung up between his shoulder blades. His hands started to shake with adrenaline. He looked around for something to do, someone to give the counter to, but Carter was already in front of the register.

To the rest of the world, the man was Solar Flare: protector of Radon Canyon, defeater of extraterrestrial threats, dimensional anomalies, and ‘domestic terrorists’ like what Ben used to be.

Right now, he was Carter Sanchez, complicator of Ben’s already not-great day.

“I’ll have a Big Mac and a cookie, please.” He smiled, and it might have been charming if Ben’s stomach weren’t swirling at the too-familiar, too-intimate smell of Carter’s cologne. Sandalwood. Fresh and woodsy, like a newly cut pine tree.

His fingers punched in the order, like a machine following a code. But his head was racing. Why’s he here? Does he recognize me? Is he here to kill me? Finish what I couldn’t? He wouldn’t. He doesn’t kill. But what if he did?

The food was handed to Ben, who handed it to Carter. For a moment, their hands brushed. Ben forced himself not to jerk away, and focused instead on praying that his shaking was less noticeable than he thought it was.

Carter thanked him and then just. Sat down.

Sat down and didn’t look at Ben again.

He seemed so… Okay. Like he wasn’t constantly thinking about the day two years ago.

And why would he? It was all just another day of work for Solar Flare. It was only Ben’s life that had gone up in flames.

It happened over at the stadium, just a couple blocks east of the McDonalds, and Marie’s Crater. The comm lines had cut abruptly to static as one by one, all of his friends pulled their pins and died, until there was only Ben left.

But he hesitated, like an idiot, and that was all the time Carter needed to knock the grenade out of his hand. When he tried to recover it, he’d been kicked, hard, and sent flying across the rubble left over from a previous battle. A sharp bit of metal scraped across his face as he flew past, cleaving from forehead to cheek. Deep enough to scar. Not deep enough to kill.

Because why would he ever be that lucky?

And then Carter had pinned him down, and asked him how, and why, and all that other stuff bleeding-heart heroes were probably contractually obligated to ask. And he was so close that Ben was suffocating in the sandalwood cologne and the coppery smell of blood pouring from the rift in his face into his eyes.

The sandalwood still lingered at the counter and Ben was having trouble keeping himself in the right moment, in the right place. Carter was still right there, enjoying a fucking Big Mac, oblivious to the presence of one of his greatest enemies not even ten feet away.

Well. Former greatest enemy.

After Marie, Benjamin had stopped. He’d had a cause to fight for - they all did. But without her and the others, it all seemed meaningless.

“Jamie,” she’d said to him, right before it had all gone wrong. “When we win, you owe all of us ice cream.”

Most likely, she was just trying to lighten the mood. It worked, and he smiled. “Why me?” he’d asked.

“Because it’s your turn, stupid. I bought last time.”

And then they’d all died. But Carter was still there. And he was sitting down and eating a burger, and Ben’s friends were still dead.

A tide swelled up in his chest, threatening to break at a moment’s notice. It hurt, and there was an urgency to it that told him to get out.

He hardly heard the words that came out of his mouth (his throat felt so swollen, he wasn’t even sure if there had been any) to try and tell Alyssa he had to leave for a moment. He managed to make it to the family bathroom and lock the door before his legs gave out. The bathroom had been recently cleaned, and the tang of bleach wafted around him, mingling with the sandalwood still lingering like fog in his mind.

Breath was coming in and out of his windpipe in erratic bursts, like a bird being shook in its cage by a particularly sadistic child.

“Just kill me already!”

“No.” It was infuriating how easily Carter could hold him down. Nobody that dressed in such a ridiculous latex suit had any right being so strong. “You’re going to calm down, and then we’re going to the police.”

Ah, yes. Calm down so he could be handed to the police. Like that wasn’t the same as a death sentence.

He hoped the awful choking noises he was making were drowned out by the bathroom fan. Its low humming crowded his ears and made it hard to think.

Police choppers hummed in the distance, close to where Ben, in a moment of confusion, had managed to give Carter the slip. He was miles away now, in one of the safe houses Lee had hooked them up with.

He was tempted to call his friends, make sure they were on their way safely. But he realized that, of course, they couldn’t respond. Not anymore.

His phone buzzed, knocking him out of the scene.

It was a text from Alyssa. ‘You okay? You’ve been in there for a while.’

Deep breaths, he told himself. In, out, in, out. Bleach filled his nose. Not the most pleasant, but its pungent smell helped root him back in the harshly-lit McDonald’s bathroom.

The sweat was drying, making his shirt stick to the small of his back. He didn’t want to go back to the safe house again. Any of them. Not the one he was staying at now, or any of the others spread around the city. He wasn’t sure if he could stand another night sleeping next to his friends’ ghosts; especially not now.

His legs were shaky, but he managed to push himself up the wall into a standing position.

‘I’m fine,’ he responded. ‘Could I leave a bit early though?’ It took him a good seven tries and a couple autocorrects to get his shaking fingers to sort out the right letters, but he eventually got it.

‘Of course! I’ll take your shift tomorrow too, if you need?’

He smiled. Alyssa was much kinder than he deserved. ‘Thank you.’ Only three tries this time; he was starting to feel better. The shaking was subsiding, his stomach was settling, and though the dried sweat made him smell a bit like a scared animal, at least his skin was feeling more like it belonged on his own body again.

After a few more deep breaths, Ben felt alright opening the door. He didn’t bother going to get his bag, and he didn’t risk looking back to see if Carter was still there. The goal was to get on the first bus and ride as far from Radon Canyon as possible. There was probably enough money on his card for a motel room. He could worry about quitting and his woefully barren resume tomorrow; all that mattered now was leaving.

The bus he finally got on was heading east. There was a game going on in the stadium where his life should have come to an end two years ago. Ben’s eyes lingered for a few moments, until the cement walls and giant parking lot were hidden from view by the train station, and then a block of office buildings, and then a park where a team was just starting soccer practice.

Every mile out of the city felt like another weight lifting away. Another painful reminder gone, another memory out of mind.

At the last stop, hours away, in the middle of the night, it felt like he was breathing for the first time in two years.

#mutuals are asleep time to post my shitty writing before they wake up #also sorry im Bad AF at endings yikes #megans writing

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tounacasserole · 3 years

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random & kind of stupid half asleep, half assed appreciation post cause i wanna spread the love and for some reason sad thoughts in my head but let's ignore that (ft. my sleep deprivation sap, mutuals, ppl iloook up to, shitty puns and wordplay)

@moonxma ur the moon :o you give me like calm and peaceful moon vibes like a blue moon!! ty for being one of the first who kind of kickstarted my whole commitment to being here and writing content :D

@raysano ray? more like ray of sunshine shdhefj bad pun but i love indirectly interacting with you through games and hope we get to know each other and interact more mwah /p

@appreciatingtokrev appreciatingtokrev? appreciating YOU you beautiful human being :)) i like seeing your little thoughts and whatnot around your blog bc i find them interesting to me in a good way

@mochi-coffee absolute sweetheart ∑(ﾟДﾟ) sweeter than ice cream mochi need i say more? no but seeing you wherever makes my day better for some reason because you give that positive n uplifting vibe. me 🤝 you waka skmps

@kallikrein me 🤝 you 🤝 mochi waka simps jdkfjskf ty for being one of the first to interact and leave messages in the tags of my silly little waka headcanons :]] and ty for being my majn source of waka brainrot too (￣∀￣) we krei-n (pronounced crying) over wakasa. i think that was fhe shittiest pun ive ever made in my entire life i apologize dearly

@simpywhore seeing your incorrect quotes make me snort in laughter a lot whenever i see them >:D we haven't interacted but i'm sure you're simp(l)y sweet ksjjfkfkskf

@offtaskotaku go follow them rn this is a threat /hj seriously so so underrated pls check out their work and send them requests i'm sure they work hard and they're bery nice :) great sense of humour 2 i like seeing u on my dash. makes me go off task for a bit to scroll through your blog and reread your hcs!!

@kakuchew also a contributor to my waka brainrot jshffkf your headcanons about the black dragons boys are so awesome and i love their shenanigans which makes it easier to envision them in my head!! less chewing on my thoughts and more space to appreciate them and you too :3

@sukunasbabymama your blog title is kk's safeplace and it sure as hell lives up to the name!! i get a homely vibe from you n i like seeing you pop up on my dash :D like my mama's homemade food! you've made me appreciate kakucho and mucho with your contrnt :))

@wwintersun holy crap i look up to you a whole ton!! your works are simply put masterpieces. when i read them it makes me feel fuzzy and warm it's like when the sun melts the winter away ;D i have a lot of your stuff saved in my drafts to reread on a bad day

@bajipaws your tokrev x male reader stuff has at least pawmped 5 more years into my lifespan (i'll take my leVe now). ur doing king shit and i can't wait to see more stuff from you!!!

@kageyahoe your latest work with baji made me Feel all the emotions /pos :] in fact all of your works do and made me love baji even more than i did before >:O i don't have a bad pun for you but honestly considering my punmanship you're lucky jdkfjskf

@shinscig i've interacted with you a grand total of one (1) time but you're so sweet :( i think your chifuyu drabble of painting flowers was one of the first fics i read here which: OOMPF /pos. that's it i can't describe it anymore better than that cause it's almost 3am. your braid train fic with mizo mid is also a big favourite :)! underrated they are

@softbajis You Have Made Me Feel Things but i swear most of it's good and soft besides the angst because it hurts so good hakfjwjfj i like seeing your little blurbs pop up from time to time!!

@tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang I LOVE SEEING YOUR POSTS ABOUT THE MANGA THAT ARE ESPECIALLY SO FUNNY??? they're always a riot and the absolute best. i snorted so hard reading your recent one of the wake me up scene SHEIWKJFWKFJDJ

@koffeekoko your angst. hurts so good. mr sunshine, flowers, and you hurts the best. i am writhing on the floor as i type this (/notsrs) idk if this is weird but seeing your tag "jel loves you!" makes me smile internally :)) your works about insecurities they love also make me really really happy :']

@n0vad your headcanons are so comforting to read,,, they also inspired me to post some of my own too in a similar format (hope you don't mind sjfhe)! i also love that you post for more characters that don't have a ton of content!!

@sunhee-sun your writing is like warm sun after cold rain (i'm a great poet) it's inviting and a guilty pleasure to reread all of your tokrev stuff. bows down to you.

@kakubun my main source of love for bonten. helping hands is one of my favourites and inspired me to make a character based off of that :D your headcanons are also so funny to read and have become a great source of inspo!!

@xuxitheii another whose tokrev x male reader has fed more life into me (°▽°)b i've probably went through your blog at least thrice now reading your works especially since you're one of the first i followed! good shjt right there... your confessing to mitsuya one is my fabourite

thats all i can roll out i think because i dint want to flood everyone's inboxes since your mutuals are doing this too skfjekfjjs ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ happy new year from this touma fish! 🐟 passes out

#chattertuna

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tangerineliqu0r · 3 years

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Kindle

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Hero!Reader

Summary: They haven't seen each other in 6 months, and after meeting on the metro, have a cute dinner.

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, married couple stuff, cursing, reminiscing

Word Count: 1373

a/n: I've been dying to actually start writing and I love Sam so much and don't see enough love for him so here it is <3

The bumpiness of the metro had never been nice to you. Whether it was smacking your head into the window or throwing you off balance, it had never been something you liked. Unfortunately, it was much faster than driving when you had to be downtown. Not to mention you weren’t much of a driver anyways.

That’s how you got stuck dosing off on the cracked seats on your way back from work. You’d think that working for the government would have its perks, but here you were working until late and riding the damn metro back home. You were exhausted, so much so that your eyelids were half closed where pictures of a warm bed and Chinese takeout danced behind your eyes. To anyone else on the train, you probably looked completely asleep or at least in your own little world. You were almost knocked out until the train pulled up to a stop and a voice yanked you out of your dreams.

“Hey, is that really you? What’re you doing in DC?”

The striking figure of Sam Wilson entered your half-lidded vision. He was getting on the train and grabbing a standing spot directly in front of you. Despite the initial shock of seeing him you were still able to get a stiff answer to come out of your mouth as you tried to wake yourself up.

“Oh, you know, working myself to death, you know the feds don’t want any of us roaming the streets.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Retiring was never an option for you, it seemed you’d always be paying them back for your ‘enemy of the state’ pardon.

“Yeah, I felt that. Always the next job, right?”

“Exactly. They’ve got me cooped up in an office with a bunch of techs now. Said something about me being unsafe and unpredictable in the field, before assigning me some shitty therapist and slapping me behind a computer.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the thought.

“Shit, I’d kill for a desk job right now. Seems like I fly from mission to mission and get patched up on the plane in between.Dealing with the world post blip isn’t as easy as it seems.”

“I know Sam, the world’s so different and I’m so busy I swear I don’t think I’ve sat down at my kitchen table to eat in 4 months.”

I shifted over so I was fully in my seat and motioned for him to take the seat next to me. I could see the exhaustion on his face as he plopped into the seat. He leaned fully back and stretched out his long jean clad legs.

He blows air out of his mouth and laughs at me, “God damn, I felt that, takeout’s good, but nothing beats a good steak and sprouts.”

Obviously, it hadn’t taken long to fall back into their old ways: complaining about work and talking about food. All we needed to turn back time now would be a quick kiss. You couldn’t help but to reminisce. The two of you used to be like two peas in a pod, where he was you were. Seeing him after all this time made you realize just how much you missed him. You missed being around him all the time. You missed the way he’d laugh at your stupid jokes. You missed cooking for him and staying in to watch some cult classic. You missed going out to Tony’s fancy parties and then driving around for hours with Sam after. You missed the taste of his lips and the feel of his skin against yours. You missed him more than you realized, and the feeling gave you the confidence to speak up.

“Come over to mine then, I still go grocery shopping and I’m sure I can whip up an actual meal for you.”

His brown eyes light up, and you know you’ve got him with the promise of good cooking. “God, it’s been forever since I’ve ate your food, you know I can’t turn that down.”

“Good, I got you just in time then, because my stop is coming up.” You smiled at him.

Suddenly the day had gotten better, even with the torture of work and the monotony of life, Sam Wilson had managed to brighten up your world with just a glance.

Despite your stops coming up in any minute, you felt that they were taking an indefinite amount of time. The excitement to be with Sam for the evening overrode any patience you had managed to develop over your lifetime.

When the stop finally came, the two of you made the quick walk back to your apartment in no time.

“Government assigned?” Sam quirks his eyebrow at you as you pull the front door open.

“Of course, I’m sure they’ve got a million agents in this damn building watching my every move. I swear, you can get pardoned, but they don’t every really pardon you.” You smirk as the two of you enter the elevator.

“Ha!” He barks out a sharp laugh, “You think they’ve got a Sharon Carter in the unit across from you?”

“Oh I’m sure of it, the guy in the unit across from me is definitely an agent,” you snark at him. “He’s doing a real good job at pulling off the frail look thought, especially with the hourly cig breaks and the toothpick arms, I’m sure they think I’d never suspect.” You laugh.

“But really, Sam, most of the people in the building are suits, along with a few agents that I know of.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they keep a close eye on you, being all unpredictable and unsafe like you are.” He jabs you in the side and laughs.

“I’m telling you they’ve got it all wrong!” you laugh. “Alright this is me,” you wiggle your key into the knob and open the door.

“Kick off your shoes and relax wherever, I’m going to see what I’ve got in the kitchen.” You wandered into the kitchen to find something to whip up.

It didn’t take Sam long at all to get comfortable. He quickly cozied into the second-hand brown leather couch situated in the living room parallel to your kitchen. The man was barely awake when you got to him with a plate of food.

The two of you sit next to each other and eat on the old couch. It doesn’t take long until someone suggests that they find something to watch on television, and not long after you all are watching reruns of the Office.

Both of you laugh wholeheartedly through the episodes and somewhere in between the 4th and 5th episode you begin to notice the glances Sam is giving you. They’re somewhere between sad and longing, and you’re beginning to think he’s going to leave until Sam wraps his hand over your shoulders and pulls you in tight against him. Suddenly it’s like the blip never happened, the snap never happened, and it’s just the two of you, doing what you always do.

You were content with that, being close to him, being immersed in him. Hell, you hoped that the familiar warm musky smell of his cologne would stay on the shirt you were wearing. The two of you had nearly watched a half a season when you really began to get tired. Gently, you tapped his arm, so he’d lift it off your shoulders and asked if he minded if laid down over his lap.

Of course, he obliged and there the two you were just like old times, you half-asleep with your head in his lap and him stroking his fingers through your hair and scratching gently against you scalp.

The sad look he had been giving you earlier had transformed. It was a gentle, mellow, content look now. You could guess he was reminiscing too, just by the look on his face. And you knew for sure he had been reminiscing when leaned down and attached his lips to yours.

There it was, that spark in your chest, that you hadn’t felt in a hell of a long time. Sam Wilson had sparked a little flame your heart again, and you just hoped he’d kindle it.

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x oc #tfatws #sam wilson supremacy #the falcon x reader #god i love sam so much #the falcon fanfiction #fanfiction

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manifestoonmoralmanlove · 5 years

Text

Help I’m being harassed by the #1 sexeist man! Review

Sorry I had this mostly finished on the backburner for awhile but Soulless grabbed my attention pretty hard. BUT NOW THIS IS FINISHED! I hope you enjoy!

Summarize

So the story is as follows…Takato is an actor who was voted Japan’s sexiest man for a few years in a row. However his title is usurped by this dude named Junta that he’s working on a new movie with. Takato is salty about this but is professional about it and just kinda harbors secret bitter feelings. He is polite to and gives advice to Junta when asked. Junta invites him out to drinks, Takato doesn’t want to but everyone within a 5 mile radius swoops in to pressure him into it so he caves.

GOD WHY IS THAT A THING? That for sure happened in Love Stage and I’m sure I’ve seen that trope elsewhere. Where not just a 3rd party will pressure a reluctant uke but like a fucking horde of strangers with nothing to gain from it just crawl out from under the fucking floor boards like little hack-handy roaches to advance this shitty plot.

ANYWAY!

Junta gets Takato drunk, films embarrassing stuff that he threatens to blackmail him with, and a fucking horror scene of a rape ensues. Like, not dissimilar from Junjou in the fact that the atmosphere is drawn as oppressive, the uke is riddled with very palatable fear, the seme wears crazed expressions, and behaves violently. Hell, Takato manages to shove him off and tries to lock himself in the bathroom for his own safety but Junta rips the door off its fucking hinges. Takato PLEADS like BEGS for him not to but he is violently raped against the wall while Takato cries saying OUT LOUD that THIS IS RAPE! Afterwards he’s crying and shaking, talking out loud about how he’s frightened if others find out and feeling humiliated.

Junta picks him up and is like, “Man I guess I got carried away, but like REAL TALK I have a crush on you. The rape was kinda bad I guess, but it’s not my fault cause I literally cannot control any of my actions. I can prove I like you by having gentle sex with you in the bed.”

Takato agrees to this.

I BEG YOUR FUCKING PARDON?!

The implication here is that Junta just looked SO SWEET! But like also it wasn’t gentle sex at all and Junta is going to continue to blackmail him. HAR HAR!

Like here is a hot fucking take authors and fans of this particular type of garbage… that kind of writing does not make this more consensual and okay.

Like if you threw a dude in a pit full of scorpions, and he is being stung by a thousand stingers and the poison is slowly and painfully shutting down all of his bodily functions and it’s all really gruesome…but then someone asks if he wants to be saved and the dude in the pit goes from screaming in agony to saying, “Actually I like it down here.”

Does that mean being pushed into that pit, and what he went through in that pit is okay? NO

What does him suddenly wanting to marry all of those 1000 scorpions mean?

IT MEANS YOU’RE A FUCKING HACK WRITER WILLFULLY CONTRIBUTING TO RAPE CULTURE FOR A QUICK BUCK YOU HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

Like you can have your stories where a rapist is redeemed from his awful actions, but more often than not I see these fucking outrageous hairpin fucking turns in writing.

I mean, Junta does apologize? Which is better than some semes but honestly I’d rather him not even bother because he’s not sincere. He apologizes all the time for the sex acts he puts Takato through but goes on to blackmail him, hurts him, abducts him, and threatens him to his face with more rape. LIKE NOT EXACTLY FEELING AS IF YOU TOTES CARE ABOUT HOW HE FEELS ABOUT ALL THIS, BOYO!

The next chapter while they’re being filmed for the show Takato throws him against the wall and hijacks the dialog to make it sound sexually threatening. Takato IN HIS MIND ADMITS “DAMN HE’S ACTUALLY USING ENOUGH FORCE TO HURT ME!!!!” So after this shot, Takato gives Junta some advice and makes no shit, this fucking face…

And that…face, (improperly attached to what I presume is a series of straws coated in plaster masquerading as a neck) gives Junta that GOTTA RAPE NOW BONER!

So that’s what happens, he just violently drags off a kicking and screaming Takato in the middle of shooting and no one bats a fucking eye. SEEMS LEGIT! What’s baffling to me is they don’t even draw a sex scene for this.

MY BRO, WHAT IS EVEN THE FUCKING POINT THAN OF ALL THESE RAPE SCENERIOS IF THERE AREN’T HIDEOUS MELTING FACES AND WACKY INFLATABLE TUBE MAN BODIES TO GO WITH IT!?

But afterwards Junta says the classic creepy shit, “Give up already and become mine. I have no intention of giving you to someone else.” WE KNOW THE DRILL!

Takato looks up at Junta and goes, “Yeah guess I love this dude.”

AND LIKE FOR WHAT? FOR HUH? WHAT’S GOING ON HERE!?!!??!?!?!?!?

But also, are you fucking joking here? Like I’m not into the 10 volumes of “Am I gay or not?” bullshit we get in yaoi. But, depending on the pace and characterization, there’s nothing wrong with dragging out the love being 100% mutual. Here’s it’s in chapter fucking 2. Even Junjou went at a slower pace than that. When I read that I couldn’t help feeling like, “WELL WHAT’S THE CONFLICT IN THE NEXT 3 AND A HALF VOLUMES GOING TO BE?”

Which, admittedly is unfair, there can be lots of relationship conflict outside of mutually expressed love…However for a rapist/tsundere dynamic? That’s usually at least 75% of the conflict. But oh, maybe this means we’re going to get different kinds of drama! So even while it’s not good, we’re going to get something different!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

It’s utter NOT-CONFLICT is what we end up with. 3 different chapters are, “I haven’t seen much of him, that must mean he’s bored of me. Wah! Oh it turns out he was just busy. Oh that’s good.” PAGING FUCKING JUNJOU WITH THAT SUPER FUN, ENGAGING, AND INTERESTING CONFLICT HARDY FUCKING HAR!

Then we take a hard right into sorta worst rapist territory. What do you mean by SORTA worst rapist Faps?

Well……

There’s a new actor Takato is working with and this new actor, and the new actor’s coding as a bad guy is about as subtle as a punch to the mouth. So new actor gets Takato drunk enough for him to pass out, gives him a hickey and ????????????

2 things happen in these situations in yaoi typically

1.) SOMEHOW the seme MAGICS his way there beats up the worst rapist

2.) This happens after the uke and seme have a fight. So uke realizes how mean he was for not being 100% down with all the seme’s shitty behavior cause there is a worst rapist out there. He runs crying to the seme apologizing and conflict solved.

We sorta get the 2nd here…but not in a straight-forward way. For one there is no fight beforehand to set up any kind of relationship development. What happens is that Takato wakes up mortified at the possibility he was raped while he was asleep. He staggers around both in denial and utter shame. Seme shows up and like only adds to this panic by yanking him around, forcefully washing his body, and screaming that his SLUTTY, SLUTTY FACE MANIPULATES MEN into raping him. The seme tells him that they don’t have to have sex. Which good, but I mean the scene is not framed as if Takato is doing this out of kindness but almost as a dare. The implication being if Takato doesn’t consent that he is the OTHER MAN’S BOY NOW and they should just break up. So there is implicit pressure there, but he does seem to initial consent. Yet during the sex Takato internally cries about how much he hates it because his boyfriend is hate fucking him but he can’t say NO because than his boyfriend will hate him more.

LIKE FUCKING BIG YIKES MY FRIEND! IT’S SUPER UNCOMFORTABLE!

Which like, I could see a post-assault sex scene full of the emotional intensity of the anger, guilt, shame, fear all intermingling within both of them working well. (Not that post assault consensual sex is much of a thing.) That they’re trying not to think of what Takato went through but it’s eating at both of them. THAT COULD BE A REALLY INTENSE, WELL DONE SCENE! However this is framed like seme ~taking back what’s his~ in a really cold, pissed-off way that’s AT BEST really insensitive to what the uke just went through and his current emotional state. While Takato ~letting him~ cause he’s afraid his bf hates him for getting raped by someone not him. Junta also disappears without a word, making Takato fear that YEP HIS BF DON’T WANT HIM CAUSE HE’S DAMAGED GOODS NOW!

But who has to apologize? THE UKE!

Also it turns out Takato was not raped cause worst rapist couldn’t get it up after Takato said his bf’s name in his sleep. This is framed as better not cause of what the uke went through, but he didn’t really CHEAT so Junta can forgive him.

LIKE REALLY MY DUDE? YOU STARTED THIS OFF WRITTEN TAKATO MORE REALISTICALLY DEALING WITH THE DENIAL, DISGUST, AND SHAME OF ASSUALT AND INSTEAD JUST DEGRADED INTO THE SAME VICTIM-BLAMING HORSESHIT! GET FUCKED!

So the resolution is that the relationship is fixed and Junta threatens and blackmails the rapist. Which, I’m glad he didn’t get off scot-free but those interactions felt less like protecting the safety of Takato and more like, HE’S MY PROPERTY NO TOUCHY!

So from here we take a big turn.

Most of the 3rd volume is a big back-track to the beginning of their relationship before it was romantic or sexual. And boy howdy it feels like a retcon for the fuck awful pace of the 1st volume.

Basically it’s about how Junta became obsessed with Takato while working on a movie cause idk he’s pretty and he accidently heard Takato say something shitty about him once. While I wouldn’t call this good the fact that they actually let this blooming of affection take place makes it the best chapters so far.

Like at the end Junta resolves himself to let his feelings be known and to start a romantic relationship with Takato. Without the context, that felt like almost sweet? That he’s accepted his gay feelings and wants to share his life with Takato. However if you REMEMBER THE CONEXT it means that Junta planned to drug, blackmail, and rape Takato WHICH YANNO REALLY TAKES A SHIT ON YOUR CUTE LITTLE FEATHERS BLOWING IN A BREEZE TO GO WITH HIS CUTSY MONOLOG YOU SHIT-SUCKER!

But lordy the next chapter comes along which is a retelling of this prequel from Takato perspective. The only saving grace here is that it’s not nearly as long as Junta’s. Basically Takato realizes that Junta is OUT for him, and has a fucking frightened panic attack in his car afterwards. He’s literally shaking and monologing about how scary the situation and Junta are. And this isn’t me even inferring words in Takato’s head, he repeats scary over and over. Takato even decides to over book himself so he’ll have fewer chances to interact with Junta. So he does the classic ~pass-out from overwork~ thing so Junta can save him and from here we immediately transition to,

Oh now it’s modern day and they’re banging…..okay????? VOLUME ENDS

The next plot point comes down to this:

Paparazzi are OUT TO GET THEM! There is a photo leaked that isn’t really suggestive at all and Takato pretty much loses his job for it. However Takato finds out there is a much more damning picture of him and Junta, so he decides to break up with Junta, and like…just literally do whatever the paparazzi wants in order to protect Junta. But like, what’s the point of hiding it from Junta? And if this dude is going to blackmail you, what are you going to do to make sure their demands end or don’t get to the point that they’re unfeasible to continue giving in to them?

HAHA OH WELL!

Takato doesn’t even get to see the paparazzi again, his producer finds out and sexually assaults him to PROVE A POINT!

AND BOY HOWDY I’M WAY INTO THAT TROPE! LOOKING AT YOU OURAN HOST CLUB!

Cause HAHA nobody could literally want anything out of a wealthy, well-connected actor other than gay rape amirite?

Meanwhile Junta is cultivating a rumor that he’s having an affair with an actress. Cause of fucking course Junta figured that the only reason his boyfriend (whom is often upset at how shitty he gets treated by him) is an elaborate ploy to protect him from the paparazzi. But you know OF COURSE we see the actress and Junta flirting a bunch to stir the pot in a private setting but like…they only need to be seen on an outside date once. This means that he’s fucking lying if he says that he only did it to SAVE BOTH OF THEM FROM THE PAPARAZZI. He was getting a kick out of it, which I think you could argue that he was being unfaithful or in the very least being a fucking dick about it.

But, Junta goes on TV and says that he’s not having an affair with the actress or with Takato but he is moving in with Takato.

Yeah nothing dispels rumors of an intimate relationship like the announcement that they’re MOVING IN TOGETHER! Now, as I understand it, the housing market is very different in Japan from the west and therefore it’s less of a huge TELL of an intimate relationship if two people move in together. But even if that’s the case, saying you’re moving in with someone you’re accused of having an affair with…is not helping my friend.

However it is phrased this way, and immediately the entirety of the media believes this whole-heartedly, and the paparazzi guy (despite having a much more damning picture he hasn’t released) is like, “Wowzers he’s so smart, he has BEAT ME! I’m giving up being paparazzi. That man CHANGED MY LIFE FOR THE BETTER! HOW COULD I EVER THANK HIM!?” Even the fucking company that hired this paparazzi guy is like, “WELL I’M TAKING MY BUSINESS IN A NEW BETTER DIRECTION! THAT JUNTA GUY SURE, SHOWED ME!!!!”

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING!? You might as well have every criminal in Japan throw their hands up going, “WELL GOLLY! DID YOU SEE HOW GREAT THE ACTUAL RAPIST AND ABUSER JUNTA IS? BEST NEVER DO A BAD THING EVER AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

GO EAT EVERY DICK!!!!

That’s pretty much the end up to this point. I mean, there are some odds and ends chapters here and there but they’re pretty much excuses for sex chapters. And like, even though those are pretty rapey, I kinda respect them more than when you attempts to interject some semblance of relationship drama, cause holy hell that paparazzi shit ugh.

Though if you’ll allow a side rant from me about how the story treats sexual assault. According to the author it comes in a lot of flavors and most of them are awful.

For one: if it’s a hunky guy who loves you: Rape is great.

For two: if it’s a hunky guy but you already have a rapist errr boyfriend: You’re cheating.

For three: if you’re being obnoxiously sexually harassed by your superior….BUT YOUR PRODUCER IS AN OLDER EFFEMINATE GAY MAN: It’s hilarious and harmless and helps cement your Marty-stuness.

For four: if a woman is being groomed by a superior: It’s a bad thing that should be stopped.

3 and 4 happen within the same chapter but the author is so oblivious at the hypocrisy of the framing it’s absurd.

Story

Okay so the story is a mess. The relationship progression goes way too fast for it to make sense, and negates a lot of the drama you could have had. It’s possible that the editors wanted sex ASAP for some kinda quota, and that’s not necessarily bad. But it really burns my biscuits when people think, “Oh that means lead with rape and that they’ll be in mutual love by chapter 2.”

Sure most tsundere stories have a bit more lead up until the uke can confess he likes the seme back but this is not the right way to break that mold. The hairpin turn makes no sense and neuters a lot of potential conflict.

It puts the comic in a pacing hole to start and the rest of the story does little to mitigate this. I think there was an attempt to rectify this by going back to the story BEFORE they were a couple. However that was horrible botched as well. It brings the pacing to a screeching halt with a volume of Junta being like “OH NO HE’S HOTTTTTTTTTTT” despite the time devoted they do very little to give them an actual relationship or investment in his personality. It’s all a one-sided pining boner for hideous wiggle mouth.

The content of the writing is just embarrassing too. I can be a more forgiving in the sex-excuse side chapters. But like there’s a side chapter when Junta is magiked into a child and for like what? So we can coo, that the author drawing a small snowman with a poorly defined face and pretending it’s a child is super adorable?

So we can excuse the shitty way Junta behaves? Is anybody weirded out that 3 year old Junta is more thoughtful and respectful than his adult-self? YOU CAN’T EVEN WRITE HOW CHILDREN BEHAVE YOU STUPID SIMP! UGH!!!!

But also the arc on the paparazzi just ended in a total train-wreck of awful writing no question.

Sexual politics:

They’re fucking atrocious here.

1.) The first scene is framed as a brutal rape but 30 seconds later its fine and they’re in love.

2.) The handling of the ~worst rapist~ trope with big buckets of victim blaming and as if Takato was ~cheating~ is horrendous.

3.) The worst rapist is also a sex worker. So we’re framing sex workers as bad people and sex work as a bad thing. BUT GOLLY KEEP DRAWING GRAPHIC SEX SCENCES!

4.) The sexually predator producer of Junta being framed as harmless cause he’s effeminate is god fucking awful. It’s also this bizarre homophobic double standard that this man (and by extension his gay brother) are a joke because they behave stereotypically gay and aren’t ashamed of being effeminate. MEN ARE ONLY HOT IF THEY ACT LIKE PREDATORS IN A MANLY WAY, OR ARE ASHAMED OF ANY SEXUAL SUBMISSIVE OR EFFEMINATE TRAITS THEY HAVE! I LOVE WATCHING MAN ON MAN SEX BUT SO HELP ME GOD IF THEY’RE ~GAY ABOUT IT!~

5.) They ~sorta~ take sexual harassment seriously when a female actor is being groomed. Like they joke about it but also DO SOMETHING TO STOP IT really fucking muddles what we’re supposed to think about sexual abuse at all here.

6.) Takato’s producer sexually assaults him to ~prove a point~ that Takato is putting himself in situations where rape COULD happen. The fuck is this horseshit! “These men could do the very bad thing of raping you. Let me demonstrate what that bad thing looks like cause I’m sure you’re UNAWARE!” THE FUCK!? Also this sexual assault is framed more seriously than Junta’s producer because this producer is coded as MORE ATTRACTIVE and less openly QUEER! ONCE AGAIN I EXCLAIM! THE FUCK!?

7.) Takato OPENLY describes Junta as scary and calls his acts stalking, kidnapping, bullying, blackmail, threats, and rape. He also tries to actively avoid his boyfriend at times, yet are we not to take ANY of this seriously? Are we not to take this seriously cause this behavior is acceptable when the one dolling it out is attractive and charming? Are we not to take it seriously because we can’t except Takato to be honest about how he feels about any of this? I don’t believe in given a blanket free-pass when Takato doesn’t consistently express desire in Junta’s abusive tendencies. Like maybe you can argue some of the sex is consensual but can you argue that Takato is into the blackmail, when he never mentions he likes it? Can you argue he’s into the non-stop attention when he SOMETIMES BEGRUDINGLY admits he enjoys it? If so does just that get a blanket pass?

JUST UGH! YOU’VE GUYS HAVE PROBABLY HEARD THIS RANT FROM ME BEFORE I FUCKING HATE TSUNDERE SEXUAL POLITICS!

Characters

Takato

Okay so Takato. What’s this dude’s deal?

Okay let’s start with some boring basics: He’s a hard-working actor who strives to be professional. He’s a perfectionist, who seems to easily and joyfully take on the role of mentor/protector. He does seem to take himself too seriously at times. He appears to subtly prod at people who have wronged him or others rather than confront them directly. He’s also shown to be a tsundere with a submissive streak.

There’s nothing bad on its face about this characterization. However Takato is described as an intelligent professional actor, with years of experience. Yet his handling of the paparazzi thing is pretty much he goes to shit and opens him up to more rape cause lol hot. I could maybe understand this characterization if the paparazzi thing really hit Takato on a personal level and he made some irrational choices due to feeling as if he was being attacked or that he was going to permanently lose his job.

However he is shown as calm, as he’s making these choices and openly states that he will gladly give up a career he worked so hard for if it would save Junta’s career. Did he not, even for a second consider he could save both of them? This is not consistent with his characterization and it exists to put Junta on a pedestal he does not deserve.

SPEAKING OF…

Junta

So…this fucking guy. Junta is a young up and coming actor with early success. He’s shown to be an impulsive, passionate person who relies heavily on an ~angelic charm.~ He has no shame in using calculated, underhanded methods in order to achieve his goals. He is shown as impatient, has a temper, and is openly disrespectful to his partner.

Yet the world fawns over him with praise for how attractive, charming, and ~resourceful~ he is. He is described as having a few low wage jobs out of high school and therefore he’s an expert in EVERYTHING FOREVER!

I believe they were trying to humorously contrast Junta having a sweet, innocent angelic charm, with the reality of him being an aggressive a-hole. However they do not frame the aggressive a-hole side of him as bad but rather as HOT. Like I GET THAT on some level but since he’s a manipulative, abusive, rapist, it just reminds me of all the REAL LIFE INDIVIDUALS who put on a good face for the public but to their partner they’re monsters.

Art

I legit hate this fucking art. Like straight up and down, I have a hard time even reading it on a visual level. Like the anatomy is OKAY and the backgrounds are OKAY but a lot of it is less than okay. The worst culprits are the character designs, the necks, and the expressions.

I am so done with mediocre artists churning out, not only same-faced characters compared to their own art, but characters that are basically same-faced compared to the main-stream. The only thing unique here is that Junta has dark hair underneath his lighter brown hair. OH GOLLY! It’s so fucking bland and Junta’s got best seme in the Chil Chil awards and I’m so salty about that I could give the dead sea a run for its money. UGH!

The necks are super long, thin, twisty, sharp angels, and with her sad attempts at tendons it looks as if they’re constantly tense. And in worst case scenarios they don’t look as if they’re attached to even half of the chin. Yeesh!

The expressions…fucking lord. In the best of times, the facial spacing is just bad, with eyes and mouths off center, and ears too low. The author has no concept of how lips/faces work so all the kisses are REAL BAD. It’s either just like…triangles smashed at each other, no lips involved, or they’re like 1 foot apart layering their tongues on each other like they’re building a fucking sandwich.

The worst of times is Takato’s sex faces. THEY MAKE ME WANT TO VOMIT-SCREAM!

Basically he squints and his eyes get so watery it looks as if they replaced his eyeballs with just well…water. You can’t make out pupils, irises, NOTHING! But the mouths are the pinnacle of puke-inducing. They’re these enormous squigglies with no rhyme or reason, just oozing saliva like a breach in a dam. At best they’re cartoonish in an unerotic way. THESE SQUIGGLES! I CAN’T STAND THEM! YUCK!

TL;DR

Poorly drawn and written Rapist/Tsundere garbage. While it doesn’t hit EVERY little overplayed trope, it’s still pretty cliché. Just, it’s similar and up there with Junjou in the shitty department if you ask me.

#Dakaretai Otoko Ichii ni Odosarete Imasu #Help I’m being harassed by the 1 sexeist man!#review #comic critique saturday

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surrounded-by-superheroes · 6 years

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Complete Masterlist

This is EVERYTHING I’ve posted my people. Description just under the links. Everything is x reader unless specifically said otherwise. Stars mean my personal favorites. :) Please enjoy and tell me you enjoy it! Comment, like, REBLOG!

Steve Rogers x Reader;

Queen Masterlist (Twenty-Four Parts) Steve Rogers x OC

“Your skill set is equal to the best that we have. You would be an invaluable part of the team." Fury explains, but he knows that isn't what I mean. We stare at each other for a moment before he sighs again. "Your history only makes you more of an impressive subject." He continues and I groan. "The point is that you would help put an end to what happened to you, on a global scale." He says. "Think about it, Shifter." Nick drops a folder on the concrete and starts to walk back to the exit of the roof.

I flip through the folder lazily, barely skimming the papers, but I know all of the names already. Once I've gone through most of it I stop and toss it in the dust behind me. Reading it was useless. I wasn't made to be any sort of hero.

Failed Movie Night (Oneshot)

You fall asleep on the couch after a full day with Steve Rogers. He helps you out and carries you to bed when you tell him it’s too cold to get out from under the blankets on the couch.

Good Old Days (Fluff) Oneshot

Steve has never been a fan of parties, so you come up with a little surprise for him. Turns out, he surprises you too.

Loki x Reader;

Blue Satin Masterlist (Seven Parts)

You've been assigned as Loki's handler and things have been going very well. Almost too well, actually...you find out that Loki has fallen for you and you have no clue how to respond. If those above you were to think anything romantic was going on, you both would be separated from one another forever. Plus, a jealous ex causes trouble whenever he can. Could you ever forget the rules and follow your heart? Or will you let your head lead and lose the chance of a lifetime?

The Poisonous Cure Masterlist (Seven Parts) Loki and Daughter

Loki runs into a young girl on his morning walk and is shocked to learn she’s more than just a minor selling herself on the streets. Her web is more tangled than perhaps even his, and she certainly holds as many secrets. He swears to find more about her, but does he really want to?

Not Your Anything Masterlist (Seven Parts)

You and Loki have been arguing since first meeting one another, but despite seeming to hate each other, there’s an awful lot of sexual tension between you two. He never seems to leave you alone and despite your saying so, you’d never wish him away. Will you two ever work things out?

**It’s a Dull World Without Green (Angst) Oneshot**

Loki’s dead and his loss is wrecking your life. You go out on a reckless rampage only stopped by your best friend Bucky, who keeps an annoyingly close eye on you. You’re not sure how to be without Loki, but soon you know you have to face it. But is he really gone after all?

Mint (Smut) Oneshot

You’ve been ignoring Loki’s advances for a while now, but he’s getting harder and harder to resist. One day, after a little persuasion, you give in. And boy are you glad you did.

Nurses and Wounds (Oneshot)

You get injured after going on a secret mission with Thor. When Loki finds out he is, of course, dramatically furious. But, afterwards, he turns quite sweet as he becomes your own personal nurse.

Promises (Fluff) Oneshot

You and Loki have been banished to a secret cabin of Tony’s so the American people don’t storm the facility to murder Loki. Turns out, it’s fantastic. Loki and you have been in a relationship for a while now and it’s kind of like a little vacation. But something is about to change.

Bucky x Reader;

The Soldier and the Assistant Masterlist (Eight Parts)

You run into a mysterious stranger on the street while running late for work and spill coffee all over yourself in the process. Later, you find out the man was none other than James Buchanan Barnes and your company is about to write a story about him. The thing is, he’ll only talk to you. As you get to know one another, you both start realizing this relationship is a little more than work. Will both of you let the romance bloom? Or kill it before it starts?

I’m in Charge (Oneshot)

You and Bucky are fooling around outside when things get a little, *coughs* heated.

That Damn Promotion (Smut)

That Damn Promotion Part Two (Smut)

Bucky and y/n return from a mission, arguing like usual. They’ve been stuck with one another since training when y/n beat him to a promotion. There’s been sexual tension ever since and that turns into a hate fuck.

Date’s a Dud (Smut) Oneshot

You get home early from a crap date and find Bucky waiting for you like always. It’s a pity you got all dressed up for nothing, or did you…?

Timeless Things (Fluff) Oneshot

You are woken up by Bucky when he gets up obscenely early in the morning. You follow him and find out he has a secret talent that melts your heart.

Dominate Me (Smut) Oneshot

I love making Bucky angry, then making up. It is the absolute best. If you want to be tagged in my stuff just ask, dears. Read, blush, and enjoy my lovelies.

Sleeping Arrangements (Fluff) Oneshot

Bucky and y/n have been dating for a while, but have been trying to do it quietly because of Fury’s rules. Bucky insists on sleeping in seperate rooms when not on missions, but you both can’t sleep without the other.

Amnesia (Fluffy Angst) Oneshot

You and Bucky parted ways a little while ago, you thought mutually, but Bucky actually has no clue why you left. Turning hard and numb to protect himself from the pain, he’s acting more and more like the winter soldier every day. Steve calls you up to see if you can help. But will Bucky even allow you to?

Close the Window (Fluff) Oneshot

Apparently, someone doesn’t like to close the fucking window even when it’s freezing and the person he loves is still in bed. Still…Bucky Barnes isn’t the worst thing to wake up to on a beautiful Fall morning.

Crave Masterlist

You and Bucky have a...complicated history. So, when Natasha calls you in on a mission with the team, some emotions pop up again just to complicate things all over again. Especially since you never said why you left him in the first place.

Tony Stark;

Gold with a Red Jewel (Smut) Oneshot

You and Tony have been in a relationship for a while now and he’s really opened your mind to a lot of things, but one thing you have yet to try with him is anal. You decide tonight is the night, but you’re going to tease the hell out of him first. Or is it going to be the other way around?

Charity (Fluff) Oneshot

You work for Tony Stark and to be quite honest, you love it. He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s a funny pain in the ass and makes it fun to come to work every day. He’s been doing his best to get you to go out with him, but all attempts have failed. Until now…

High School (Fluff) Oneshot

You are a teacher at Peter Parker’s school and Tony sees how well you work with Peter. He starts crushing on you and does his best to win your heart, even though parents and teachers shouldn’t date. While Tony points out he isn’t technically Peter’s parent, you’re still on the fence about the handsome man.

**Three Dates Masterlist (Three Parts)**

You’re working as an escort at a fancy ball, but your date just happens to be the fucking douchebag of all douchebags. Luckily enough, you eventually find relief in the company of the surprising Tony Stark. You spend an evening together and realize neither of you want it to end, so what are you going to do about it?

Baking Lesson (Fluff) Oneshot

What better way is there to usher in the new season than with a batch of pies? Unfortunately, Tony is feeling playful and wants to learn a couple things. Hopefully, the kitchen doesn’t catch on fire…

Natasha x Reader;

**Care to Prove Me Wrong? Masterlist (Four Parts)**

Bucky doesn’t believe that you could’ve been a stripper before joining the team and Tony and Steve agree. He dares you to prove him wrong and you aren’t one to shirk from a challenge. One by one you take each man aside and prove your skills.

Fall at the Beach (Fluff) Oneshot

You and Natasha have been keeping things quiet between the two of you if only to prevent shitty jokes from the rest of the team. There’s a beach house the two of you escape to every once and a while, but this time it seems there’s a surprise on the way.

Sam Wilson;

Leaf Piles (Fluff) Oneshot

The Avengers have been sent on a Fall retreat and while everyone splits up to do their own thing, you run into Sam doing something…interesting. Despite weak objections, you get roped into messing with Sam’s favorite bestie, Bucky Barnes.

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emperor-lover · 7 years

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Hwang Minhyun College/university!AU

hi everyone, im relatively new to this but I thought I’d give writing scenarios a shot! feel free to send in requests for Nu’est or W1!

• ok so you’re a second year college/uni student doing a science degree majoring in anatomy • you love it except when you have to do histology • like everyone around you seems to know what they’re looking at but you’re just like ?? • pink blobs EVERYWHERE • you and your best friend sit next to each other in the lab so it’s always enjoyable • plus there’s a super cute guy who sits opposite you • turns out he’s a 3rd year student taking some extra papers to prepare for his PhD • He was Daniel and Jaehwan’s senior at high school and they said that everyone loved him • “ohhh that’s Hwang Minhyun? he was class president and one of the top scholars!” • “I heard he aced all his papers last semester too which is crazy because he’s on the student association this year” • so yeah he’s super smart and always finishes work super fast and can leave the lab early • unlike you and your friend who tend to get distracted and take the whole 3 hours of the lab • although you havent really talked to him much you notice that minhyun glances over at you sometimes during labs • but you just think he’s looking at your friend lol he’s not tho, he looking at u • one day your friend gets sick so she couldn’t attend the lab • it sucks because this week’s lab happens to be more difficult than usual so you struggle to do everything by yourself • Minhyun looks over at you when you sigh in frustration • “you alright there?” • you just scrunch your nose and shake your head • he just chuckles good-naturedly at you and continues working • after a few minutes, you hear the scrape of the chair next to you and minhyun plonks down next to you • “how about we partner up for today then?”

• you’re taken aback but how could you refuse when someone asks so nicely • you end up whizzing through the majority of the lab super fast thanks to minhyun’s help but sometimes you get a bit distracted by his presence • like when he’s looking down the microscope and can’t see you, you cant help but admire his sharp jawline and adams apple and pink ears and - • you swear your heart is pounding so freaking fast as if it’s going to burst and you’re thinking you’ll end up examining your own heart under the microscope instead • (calm down calm down relaxuu) • “y/n?” • you blink rapidly trying to act like you werent checking him out lol • Minhyun just tilts his head slightly and raises his eyebrows in confusion, completely unaware wow he so cute • the two of you didnt really talk too much about stuff not relating to the lab, but you’re on name basis now, so that’s a start • “see you next week y/n!” • fast forward to next week, your friend is better now so shes at the lab • minhyun walks in and pouts slightly when he sees that the chair next to you isnt free • you dont notice him until he sits opposite you and you give him a bright smile • which he returns just as brightly and you feel yourself melting and you realise that wow this crush you’re harbouring is going to kill your heart • surprisingly Minhyun doesnt finish the lab early today • and as you’re packing up your things you look over at him, you notice he’s actually dozed off • “Minhyun?” you shake his shoulder gently, “hey…wake up, we can all head home now” • he blinks up at you slowly, before looking at his watch and looking back up at you in shock • “When did I fall asleep???” • “I’m not sure, maybe 20 minutes ago?” • his ears are bright pink in embarrassment and you both laugh at the situation • You make your way outside, and you realise that it’s POURING down with rain and you didnt bring your raincoat or your umbrella • your friend lives in the opposite direction from you so she literally just says “good luck” and runs off in rain • you just stare up at the sky and wonder what you did to deserve this luck • you’re about to brace yourself to run in the rain home, when an umbrella opens up next to you • “Going home?” • “Unfortunately, yes” you sigh • He laughs and gestures for you to stand under his umbrella, “I’m heading in that direction too, do you want to walk with me?” • At first you refuse because you feel bad, but then it starts hailing and you’re like screw it im going to share this umbrella with this cute boy i have a crush on because i aint walking in this shitty weather • Turns out Minhyun literally lives one block away from you • like literally 5 minutes away • so he insists on walking you all the way home • ”it’s on the way, dont worry, I dont want you catching a cold from getting rained on!” *cue blushing*

• During the walk, the two of you make small talk, and end up bonding over the fact that you’re doing the same major, and how you both have a passion for composing music and languages • And you find out that the two of you have quite a few mutual friends that it’s surprising that you’ve never actually met until this semester. • and the two of you talk so naturally as if you’ve known each other for ages • And when you finally get home he walks you right up to your doorstep so you dont get rained on and gives you a little wave and a shoulder bump • “see you next week y/n!” • as soon as you get inside you clutch your heart because the two of you were walking so close to each other because of the rain so sometimes your arms would brush against each others accidentally, and you could smell his cologne and just his presence and aura was so nice and comforting • ayyyy fast forward to anatomy group project time!! everyone’s fave thing to do not • you’re not looking forward to it at all bc everyone is randomly assigned a partner • when you go look at the list of names you spot your own and the name next to yours is - • "ooh I guess we’re partners then!” • minhyun (surprise surprise) beams down at you • you end up spending lots of time together • at first it’s because of the project, but in the end it became an excuse to see each other • like you’d study in the library together • or go to each other’s houses to work on the project • but you’d end up just talking for hours or watching a movie or eating snacks • and he’d still walk you home after your labs, even if it wasn’t raining • one day he mentions that he’s composed a song with his best friend Dongho and asks if you want to listen to it • and you’re like hell yeah of course! • and he puts his headphones onto your head so gently • and brushes the hair away from your face • he’s clearly nervous about your reaction • but like he literally has nothing to worry about because the song is straight up so good, you’re in awe • “this is amazing Minhyun!” • “You like it?!” • He’s so happy, he gets a bit carried away and sweeps you up in a big hug, and his hand is on the back of your head pulling you closer to his chest • You can feel his heart beating super fast • and you’re like “wow, my heart only beats this fast when im with you” • Minhyun’s pulled back and his eyes are wide like !? and he’s blushing like crazy • oh shit, did you say that out loud? • lol ok yeah you did • time to hide from minhyun forever, this is so embarrassing you cant believe you freaking said - • “your heart beats quickly when you’re with me?” • and you dont know what to do so you just blink and…….nod • and his face breaks out in the biggest smile ever and his eyes crinkle into cute little crescents and you can feel yourself melting away • and he pulls you back into his chest • “well clearly you have the same effect on me” • the two of you start dating, and when after you make it official all your friends are all like “god, took you long enough, we thought this day would never come” • And when the deadline for the project comes along you guys spend all your efforts together on it and you end up acing it and everyone thinks you two are life goals because there is just so much perfection in your relationship • and everytime it rains, the two of you remember that day you properly met and walked home together and it’s just super cute and loveableeee hope you enjoyed! I’ll post more soon!

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rexbosworth · 7 years

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this is personal stuff that I want to write out and let it hit the air. anyone is welcome to read or not read.

So as you may or may not know, I split up with my husband this March. We were together for a little over 4 years. We were only married for ten months before I decided to leave him. There were some other things that happened around that time, but the decision to leave Andy was mine and mine alone. I did fall in love with someone else, but I was able to separate it from the root of the issue. Which was that Andy didn’t value me. He loved the idea of coming home to someone and sleeping next to someone at night. He liked the idea of bringing someone to his parents that wasn’t a complete fuckup and he loved starting a life with that person. I feel like it could’ve been anyone as long as they could put up with his shit. There was nothing special about me in that relationship. I could never have an opinion, I could never be right about anything, things that I was hurt or upset about were laughed about or dismissed because he didn’t understand it. I loved Andy. I wanted the best for him, and I still do. I tried to push him to write because he was good at it and I know he hated his miserable job. I tried to encourage better eating and a better lifestyle. I let him be open about anything and I never once judged him. The one thing that wore me down was his drinking and him not caring about my feelings. I hated seeing him drink and drink and drink until he was beligerent and mean. I hated seeing his face get pale and sick. I hated that he would embarrass me in public and even in private. His whole attitude was “You knew I was like this when you got with me so deal with it or don’t.” The thing is, when we started dating, he slowed down his drinking and things were pretty good for a while. Then he started drinking heavier again and I was in denial for a long time. My ex husband IS an alcoholic. I didn’t want to use that word but I knew it in my heart. I denied it because I felt like an alcoholic was someone who needs it to function. Andy is the type that doesn’t need it to function, but uses it to self-destruct and to numb himself. That also hurt me. I understand that him not being happy and wanting to drink himself to death wasn’t my fault, but I was always trying to make him happy and it seemed like it was never good enough. The alcohol always did the job though. that always made him happy. He was always trying to show off to his friends by chugging bottle after bottle. It made me sick to watch. He always acted like he needed to prove himself but to be honest, Andy can be a really decent person. He knows how to have a great conversation and he’s really funny (when he doesn’t resort to racist or sexist jokes) His friends like him for who he is and in fact, I’ve seen them get frustrated at how much he drinks. Yet he continued to act tough and pound shot after shot. He didn’t fucking respect me either. I would literally have to cry and beg him to stop drinking and just come to bed with me and he STILL would just laugh and dismiss me. If I raised my voice because I was angry with him, he would raise his voice louder and be angrier. He would scream in my face and make holes in the wall, there were even a few times he laid hands on me. Nothing that hurt me physically. It hurt that his intention was to cause me harm. That did more damage to me than anything. He would destroy our things. He would smash stuff, throw stuff, and one time he hit our dresser with a baseball bat as he screamed at me, “I COULD BASH YOUR FUCKING SKULL IN!” Which I don’t like to believe that he would, but I’m glad I didn’t find out. A week before our wedding, he got drunk with his brother and he passed out on the couch. I just wanted him to come to bed with me because I hated sleeping by myself. I woke him up and asked him to please come to bed and he refused. It escalated suddenly when he snapped awake in a drunken stupor and started screaming in my face again. I ran into the room and locked myself in. He was throwing himself against the door and screaming, “I PAID $$$ FOR THIS HOUSE! YOU BETTER LET ME INTO THIS ROOM!” His brother came out and stopped him. He asked him why he was screaming and bashing the door while his future wife was in the room crying and suddenly he calmed down and said he was “just trying to get into the room he paid $$$ for.” I unlocked it and I went to my side of the bed and cried myself to sleep. He crawled to his side and immediately passed out. Never to remember a fucking thing. I hate him for that sometimes. I think about all the shitty stuff I had to go through and he has the luxury of never having to remember any of it because the alcohol conveniently helped him block it out. He went overboard drinking on our honeymoon too. He got trashed in Liverpool trying to impress another young couple that we made acquaintances with. Then he got drunk on our last night in Edinburgh before the trip home and he was trying to impress people there too. I made a lifetime friend actually and it wasn’t because he could chug beer and down shots like a fucking nut. I kept telling him he needed to take it easy because we had a long trip home. He just fucking ignored me like always. We’re on the bus back to the airport and he was sickly and pale. I had to hold a bag under his chin just in case and even though I was so mad, I felt really bad for him. I knew the way home was going to be a nightmare. AND IT WAS. I had to force coffee and water into his system and I let him sleep for a while but eventually it was time to go. He threw a fit in the airport because I had to wake him up a few times so we could find our flight information. I didn’t want to just leave the bags with him because he was asleep and I couldn’t carry all of it myself. I made him eat something and we made it home. I could go on forever about all the things that made me decide to leave him. I haven’t even talked about his parents. Maybe I’ll make another post about that in the future. They’re the fucking worst. Racist, sexist, elitist pricks who think they’re shit smells like roses. Down right mean and definitely the reason that Andy is the way that he is. I tried. I tried so hard because I loved and cared about him. I wanted to keep it going but the truth is, I knew it wouldn’t last about two years in. After the first violent outburst, I realized that it was going to be a long road but I wanted to be hopeful. I thought maybe he would want to change for me. I thought maybe he would see how hurt I was and want to do something about it. He didn’t care. He just wanted someone to be with. Someone that would just take his shit and shut up about it. Hopefully he finds someone that will bring the light out in him. He deserves it. Everything in this post is true but that doesn’t mean we didn’t have any good times together. We laughed a lot and we shared a lot of amazing things together. We learned a lot about ourselves and grew a little bit. I wish him the best but it doesn’t mean I’ll forget. Anyone who knows about this situation could probably jump to the conclusion that I left him for another man. There was someone else in the picture, but it wasn’t why I left Andy. He told me that he’s always going to see it that way and I truly don’t give a shit. That just shows how blind he really was to everything going on. Some of our mutual friends completely abandoned me without even caring about my side of the story. In fact, one of my best friends, Lana called me selfish and said, “everyone does dumb shit when they’re drunk.” Yeah well that doesn’t mean I have to fucking put up with it just because she chooses to. She told Andy about a thousand times while we were together that he was lucky that I didn’t leave him, and that I was too good for him. Suddenly when I realize that, I’m a fucking monster and I’m selfish. Fuck that and fuck her. Andy fucking villainized me and made me out to be this evil, gold-digging bitch when really, he was a drunk asshole that couldn’t see my worth until I was gone. He told all of our friends that he paid for this brand new car and this european vacation and then I just “bounced.” What kind of fucking jerkoff does that? Especially someone that claimed to have loved me? I paid for half, if not more of that vacation and I planned and mapped the whole thing out, and worked really hard to make sure it was nothing short of amazing. Regarding the car, He put 1000 down on it but I planned on paying for it all myself anyway (which I’M CURRENTLY DOING) I’ve paid double his down payment since then so suck on that. I lost a lot of friends through this because he trash talked me and I’m actually ok with it. The people that have given me nothing but love and support through this are amazing and I can’t thank them enough. You will know when someone values you. If you have any negative feelings about someone. Any intuition at all, TRUST YOUR GUT. The person I’m with now is so wonderful. We’re dealing with a lot so theres been some tension but we talk (or yell) things out and we’re honest. I feel like we’re going to create a lot of great memories together and although right now things are hard for us, I know that it’s going to get better. We’re in it for the long run. Also he doesn’t drink so that’s a plus.

#personal #this is long yikes #tw: violence #tw: alcohol #tw: abuse #tw: divorce #violence #alcohol #abuse #divorce #drinking

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gingerambition · 7 years

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Ginger Ambition Update

If you don’t know me, I’m assuming I’m your favorite ginger you’ve never met. If you’re reading this and you have met me however, you either have a huge secret crush on me, you’ve dated me and you’re looking for a subtle reference to yourself, or you recite my name each night as part of your Arya Stark–esque murder list. Honestly you’re more than welcome to my face, it takes an hour to put on before a first date anyway and is almost immediately ruined by excessive heat and pouting. You’d really just be saving me time at this point.

Anyway, before I can publish my drafts about receiving dick pics in my late 20′s (FUUUUUUCK), Tinder dates that result in me either A. bailing him out of jail or B. ending up at a bar that is actually a wake, and being a proud member of the girls still blacking out in Ubers while everyone else is getting engaged club, I have to get some things off my (perky) chest. It’s kind of long but typing it out will be like losing 20 pounds of emotional weight.

It’s been eight months since I got dumped. Two hundred and forty days later (I haven’t been counting I just did 8 x 30 on my phone) and I am still getting the same questions, so to avoid prolonging the graduation party effect (answering the same 5 questions on repeat the way I’m currently listening to “Look What You Made Me Do”), I am going to just put it all on the table.

I got dumped at the end of December. It was days after celebrating Christmas with his family and attending my best friend’s 90′s throwback party where everything seemed normal AF. In fact I hear he’s up for an Oscar for his portrayal of communicating, loving boyfriend. So no, it was not mutual. He had his reasons. (Sidebar: the self-control I just showed in resisting the urge to put air quotes around the word, reasons, is similar to how I felt the other night when this old dude who was buying me Coors Lights was texting Taylor Kitsch, YES – THE ACTOR, and all I wanted to do was spider monkey across the table, grab his phone, and get the digits of a B-list celeb). I felt the breakup was out of the blue. I’m sure him and I will never see eye-to-eye on it, and that’s because he’s way taller than me so it’s physically impossible. If I’ve told you “my story” in person, just skip this post. If you’ve been curious, here it is . . .

I Ubered to our apartment from the San Francisco airport (he couldn’t pick me up because he was drinking), and he was on the couch. He hadn’t unpacked from being home for Christmas yet. He got back to our apartment a day earlier. His shoes were on. I made us mac n’ cheese. I started nagging that he wasn’t eating his and it was getting cold, I even put the pepper out for you. I was snuggling our cat and asking him how much he missed his girls. He turned off the TV and said, using my full name, we need to talk. Every part of me between my throat and my belly button knotted together and tasted like acid and pennies, my limbs felt distant and heavy, I moved to him, but I felt more like I was watching myself. After we spoke (he whispered, I cried), he took his still packed bag, I tried to kiss him (I got his cheek), and I watched him walk down the hall as I so often did in the morning when he left for work before me. That was the last time I saw him. After 2 states, 4 apartments, 5 years, countless "babe, you need to double flush after that,” kitchen slow dance parties, and putting our mattress in the living room for pizza fueled sleepovers, it was done. And it is done, because I don’t believe in second chances when it comes to ex-boyfriends. At some point they always come back. Of that I am certain. It could be 5 weeks or it could be 15 years, but it always happens and I take comfort in that.

I called my best friend, she didn’t answer so I texted her husband. I called my mom. I called my sister. My best friend called back. I told my college best friends. I texted a few more girls. I told everyone I wanted to hear it from me, and gave them permission to pass it on like a shitty game of telephone, so I wouldn’t have to live it over and over. I cried myself to sleep wrapped up in a nest of blankets, pillows, and dirty clothes I made out of things that smelled like him. I woke up every hour, realized where I was, cried, fell back asleep, repeat. I left the TV on to feel less alone. The small studio, that I couldn’t wait to return to less than 24 hours prior, felt less like home and more like stumbling upon a movie set or the apartment of a stranger I follow on Instagram. I had an idea of who had lived there, how they felt, how I should feel, but I was suffocated between collections of crap full of memories I could imagine but not grasp, and inside jokes I could make an outline of, but not see. In 12 hours I had aged 5 years. Everything felt fresh, and sharp, and distant, and numb, and a thousand other emotions all at the same time and I didn’t understand how that could be.

Then I did something I never thought I would do, I just left. I took a red eye flight back to Michigan, where I was just 24 hours prior. I left all of the apartment lights on, the TV, and our Christmas tree. I cut up our favorite t-shirt then refolded it and put it in his drawer. I snapped my Harry Potter wand in half (from our 4 year anniversary trip) and put it under his pillow. I took everything of his I could see from my bed and put it in the corner. I tore every Uno card in half and left them in a pile. I wanted to break all of his Legos and throw out the directions but my mom said no, and for some reason I listened. I pulled the felt monogram I made off his nightstand lamp shade. I deleted my wedding Pintrest board. I deleted all of our pictures together from my phone. If you don’t want me anymore, I don’t see the point in lingering. If I said doing all of that petty crap didn’t make me feel better, I’d be lying. It was better than drunk Taco Bell after a sorority date party.

I took as many sweatshirts and yoga pants as I could fit in a carry on, my large suitcase, my purse, cornered our cat into her carrier, and I left the rest for him to ship. Here’s an old school story problem to give you a break from brown out figuring out how to tip and write your number of a bar tab at the same time, 1 sobbing ginger + 2 suitcases + 1 purse + 1 cat that weighs like 2 cats = this blog can write itself. But wait, there’s more! The Titanic soundtrack was playing at my gate and my Uber driver almost killed us. He didn’t understand English, so when my cat started clawing to get out of her soft side airplane regulation carrier, and I pleaded with her to stop (when it rains it pours), he slammed on the breaks - on the HIGHWAY - and said “stop? stop? stop?” I yelled, KEEP FUCKING GOING. Not a moment I’m particularly proud of, but it happened. I put in my 2 weeks notice and worked remotely, wrapping up projects, and apologizing in emails. I tried not to burn bridges. Hurt has a ripple effect not always immediately evident.

The worst part for me is knowing one day, every adventure, every nickname, every private moment we shared together will be forgotten, will disintegrate, and I will be reduced to, “that ginger I dated for like 5 years in my 20′s and had a TV show no one watched.” I will be become one of his two truths and a lie options. I won’t even have a name. He will tell some Cliff Notes version of “our story” to the daughter he has with someone else who isn’t me when it’s her heart that is broken and craves assurance there’s someone out there for everyone.

I slept on and off for the next 4 days, a very Carrie in the “Sex and The City” movie when she’s on her honeymoon with her friends instead of Big, of me to do. I never said I wasn’t dramatic. I didn’t drink. I made myself shower. I went on long walks with my parents’ dog and listened to a “Guys Are The Wooooorst” Spoitfy playlist I made. Everyone was so proud of me and impressed by how I kept it together, how I’m still keeping it together. Friends were happy to have me home, to have me so close to them. I felt wanted again. It’s not hard to act fine when he’s on the other side of the country. I wasn’t going to run into him. He never drunk dialed me, never texted. As much as distance can make things hard, it can also make things easy.

My first breakup with my first boyfriend when I was 19 was horrible. I lost a ton of weight (not in a hot way - in a, “her head is too big for her body” kind of way), I didn’t go to class, I passed out on porches, I took my anti-depressants on and off sometimes with whatever shot was on special or being handed to me. This time, simply put, I would not allow myself to be that girl again. I was like nope, too cute, too sassy, too many people who love me to go back to that. (Although it would be nice to basically fit my American Girl doll’s clothes again.) I received so many cards and presents in the mail from best friends, girls I hadn’t talked to in years, and old co-workers that I almost wish I got dumped sooner, preferably around the time of a Kate Spade Surprise Sale.

So it’s been eight months. I’m 27-years-old and I’m starting over. I’m living at home. I bought a new old car. I thought 2017 was the year I’d be planning a wedding. Now the extent of my planning is what I’m wearing to work tomorrow and what city I will visit next weekend. But you know what? I’m happy. I’m loved. I’m done settling.

#boybye #GingerAmbition #Breakup #KellyannWargo #Single

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silverineontherun · 6 years

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Fic: May the cycle never break

Klance fic. Altean!Lance, Galra!Keith (Past lives), G rated, 1440 words. ANGST / MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

Hello! I’m in kind of a slump with my new post s6 fic I’ve been working on, and also in a very angsty mood, so I decided to write this idea I’ve had since I published my fic fake, not fate. It’s a “prequel/sequel” if that makes any sense. Enjoy! (Sorry if it looks shitty on mobile).

***

The bashed Galra fighter is auto-flying towards its final destination, and the pilot struggles to keep his eyes open. Lorim’s shaky hands rest on his temples, passing his vital energy in a slow, uninterrupted chain.

“Don’t you dare to fall asleep on me, Yorak,” warns the Altean.

Yorak faintly smiles, showing his fangs in the playful way that conquered Lorim’s heart, deca-phoebs ago.

“I am not going anywhere yet,” answers the Galran in his low, reassuring tone.

Yet. Because they are both dying, though he doesn’t know it. Lorim swallows the knot in his throat, ignores the piercing pain on his bleeding side and the heavy heave of his lungs, and just puts his forehead on Yorak’s, feeling his own vitality draining through their connection.

He is lucky. Lucky to be one of the royal alchemists in the Court of King Alfor, and to have enough knowledge to keep his fatally wounded beloved alive, at least long enough to buy them some time. Lucky to be one, if not the only survivor after Zarkon’s attack. Lucky to be so loved by one of King Zarkon’s guards, that he would betray his own people and come to his rescue, being brutally shot on the way, but still managing to sneak them away.

Lucky to have lived enough to enjoy his smiles and caresses, when peace reigned, and no evil had tarnished the souls of those powerful enough to break their lives.

The escape was too rough for both, and they know they can’t go that far away without assistance. They also know no one will assist them, not when fleets under the crazy Galra King’s command are overflowing every civilized system.

And they both know Yorak is not going to recover, clinging to life only thanks to Lorim’s energy, who stubbornly insists on sharing it, knowing fully well how that will end up for him. Yorak doesn’t suspect it. Otherwise, he would never allow it.

Ignoring the real extent of the damage, the Galran had one last request. He had always loved the tales that Lorim shared with him in the comfort of their bed, bathed by the golden sun of Altea that entered through Lorim’s tall window. His favorite was the legend of the eternal bond of Sakh’ir, the moon that could bond people through time and space. Yorak looked tough, but he was weak to such romantic tales.

“Someday, I’m going to take you there,” he declared once. Lorim smiled. His childish enthusiasm was always so endearing.

“Oh, really? But what if we are not aure?”

Yorak pulled his partner’s hair very softly to make him look right into his purple eyes.

“Hah. We are, Lorim. And I’m taking you there someday to prove it,” he stated, planting a kiss on Lorim’s forehead and then on his lips, melting him like only he knew. Because the softness of his raw power and the purity of that heart was impossible to find anywhere else, it was very easy to believe his words.

And so, Yorak’s last request was just that.

“Please, let me fulfill my promise. I can’t die without proving it to you… let's go to Sakh’iru.”

—

When they arrive, Lorim can barely lift his tall, heavy lover. He never stops transferring his energy to him, not even when they leave the ship and are immediately surrounded by masked priests. Lorim tries to keep his eyes down, as the archives recommended, but has no time for formalities.

“Priests, I am Lorim and this is Yorak. We need to perform the rite,” he announces. Looking down, he notices the purple aura that surrounds both his feet and Yorak’s. His heart hurts. Could this mean…?

“You are dying,” says one of the priests, in a gurgling voice. Yorak raises his head slowly. His eyes look fazed, clinging to consciousness.

“I am,” he mutters.

Lorim dares to look at the priests and almost imperceptibly shakes his head in a silent plea. The priests remain quiet, and then they nod. The one that spoke first points to their feet and makes gestures to the other priests, who scatter. Two of them help both lovers walk ahead, and Lorim’s heart finds peace. They made it on time.

—

The spring shines in the middle of a forest clearing, surrounded by tall vines and colorful crystal trees, and Lorim can’t help thinking that it is a wonderful last place to be. Wearing the ceremonial masks, with Yorak’s head resting on his thighs and their joined right hands sank in the cold water, they follow the priest’s instructions.

“Now you must wet your faces and drink.”

Lorim guides Yorak’s hand to his face and then takes some water to his lips. Then he does the same. The spring shines and the air around them feels suddenly dense, as if someone turned off the lights. Now the vines on the floor among the crystal herbs are shining in golden light.

“May the cycle never break,” murmurs the priest. Then they add, in a soft tone, “as soon as you share your minds and find the thread, join your faces and consummate the ritual. Then… it will be done.”

“Thank you very much,” says Lorim, watching how the priest leaves them alone.

Yorak’s breathing is uneven, and Lorim feels his eyes sting. With effort, the Galran raises a hand that softly caresses his partner's jaw.

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs. Lorim can tell he is smiling under the mask. It makes it even harder to answer.

“I am not,” he lies, trying to keep his voice firm.

“You are. But I am happy,” admits Yorak.

“A dream come true,” whispers his voice inside Lorim’s mind. They are connected. Lorim closes his eyes, but he can feel how Yorak snaps his open, startled.

“No… no, Lorim, you are dying too! It’s my fault!”

“No, Yorak. I was going to die anyway. You lent me this time, and there is no other place where I’d rather be.”

“But, Lorim…” tries to protest Yorak, and his lover puts his hands on his face again, still giving him his energy.

“You were right. We always were aure.” Lorim can feel their hearts beating at the same time. His lips crook in a teasing smile under the mask. “Who would have thought.”

Yorak scoffs. His dry lips part to let out a resigned sigh.

“I told you so. I’m always right,” he mumbles, his voice ragged and weak, but that spark in it that ignites a flame in Lorim’s heart without fail is still there.

Will always be.

“I hate to admit it, but it is true,” answers the Altean.

He feels how life is slowly leaving Yorak’s body. The desperate impulse to contain it, to fall into anguish at the inevitability of the twilight overcoming them is controlled by a sudden, absurd, and absolute certainty that they are exactly where they were always meant to be.

So, instead of fighting against their bittersweet fate, now he only wishes to see his lover’s face at least one last time. Putting their foreheads together, he strongly makes a wish in his mind.

“If we are to meet again, I wish we could be born at the same place. I wish we could meet sooner, to enjoy our entire lives together.”

Yorak’s chest raises in a pleased, weak hum. He is hearing. He is feeling him. They vibrate with the same deep intensity. They hear each other, and at the same time, they are the same being, for a magical and fleeting moment.

“That would be nice. Then… I wish no war ever separates us again.”

“Yes,” agrees Lorim, the pain in his chest swelling and blossoming with images of better, blinding outcomes threaded in their mutual dreams. A plea for the universe, a wish for another chance to meet, in the chaos of the cosmos. The Altean closes his eyes.

“It… it would be nice if I could give you offspring. That way, at least our children could remember how much we loved each other, even after we are gone.”

“No, not that.”

Yorak’s thoughts are getting misty, fading away in a weak echo, but he manages to mutter:

“I wish for you to be just like you are now."

His voice is but a murmur, but his words are clear, and they envelop him like a warm wave against the cold of their unfair end.

"I love you, Lorim.”

The vines are shining in golden tones and then, as their masks slide down from their faces, they suddenly darken. Lorim’s tears are now falling over his lover’s closed eyes.

“I love you too…”

A priest approaches them in the mist. Lorim’s sight is blurry. Yorak’s body is no longer receiving his energy, but he can feel himself being drained by the mysterious crystalized ground of this sacred place.

And his heart is empty, but his mind feels somehow satisfied. Strong. Filled with a conviction that invites him into a new chapter, an unknown one.

“We can try to detach you from the ma’kiya before it is too late. Maybe there is still time for you,” offers the priest, kneeling by his side.

“It is already too late. But thank you, priest,” says Lorim, white fog clouding his vision. He sighs, content.

“I’m making one last great offering. Maybe that will please Sakh’ir, and they will make it easier for us next time.”

“Sakh’ir always finds the way,” reassures him the priest. Lorim closes his eyes, smiling. He forces his last remnants of energy to flow outside his body directly to the ma’kiya, while resting his head on Yorak's quiet chest.

“May the cycle never break, then. See you next time, my love.”

—

Lance wakes up in his bed at the Castle, startled. He was dreaming about something, and that something was really sad, because his pillow is wet and his eyes hurt. Not like anyone will ever know, though.

Anyone, except for his new husband, maybe. He really wants to see him, even more so than usual. Looking at the comm on his nightstand, he feels his heart heavy. No calls yet. Without much hope, he puts it to his ear and tries to call Keith anyway.

Again, no answer. Where could he be?

Bummed, he takes it off again and watches the ceiling, uneasy. It’s been weeks and no one seems to be able to reach Keith.

Lance lifts his arm to admire his thin golden bracelet, and then smiles. Deep down, he knows Keith is fine. He may be far away, but he will find a way to come back, like he always does. He doesn’t know why he is so sure, but somehow…

Somehow, it feels like the price has been paid already for their happy ending. Closing his eyes, he remembers their ceremony, like every day.

“Rest assured in Sakh’ir promise,” had said the priest. And so, resting assured is what he’s going to do, Lance decides, closing his eyes again, with his heart full of hope.

***

HAHAHAhahah... 😭. I don’t think I’ll upload this one to AO3, it’s too short. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed? And apologies to my followers. My queue is finally over after this week of constant s6 posting, rest assured in Silverine’s promise (to not shitpost so much). Check fake, not fate to feel better!

#klance #laith #klance fic #laith fic #vld #voltron #voltron fanfic #altean!lance #galra!keith #altean au #galra au #galtean klance #silv writes

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life-wide-open124-blog · 6 years

Text

Why I stayed

Trigger warning- Domestic violence and sexual assault/rape

My entire life was spent trying to define love. Raised in a family where domestic violence was normal, it was no surprise to me when I stumbled into a relationship with an abusive man.

The only thing I did not anticipate was him being far more violent than I could have imagined and because I had been raised with it, I tried to explain away each episode. “It’s normal, no one is perfect, he’s trying, he loves me, he’s sorry.”

The things I said to myself because I was too weak to love myself, too weak to leave and my self esteem was in pieces.

It started off small and by the time I realized who he was, I was 18 years old and pregnant.

He had money, was charming and handsome. He was from far away, everything I wanted, until at 6 months pregnant he was dragging me by my hair through a dirty motel hallway into our room. I was sobbing, I saw a man walking outside of the motel door just before my boyfriend pulled me in, I reached out my hand towards this stranger and pleaded “Help me!” He continued walking, the door was shut and I was beaten till my nose was bloody and my hair was coming out in his fists.

I learned not to scream after that. Not to try to fight back. There was no place to go, no one who cared and no one would hear. No one would come.

I decided to write this after a lot of deliberation, because all I hear about these days is rape and sexual assault. With each post about #kavanaugh I am reminded of the times when my boyfriend held me, face smashed into the ground while he sodomized me. Me, gasping for breathe, stifling tears and begging God for relieve. All while he whispered in my ear

“You disgust me, you let other people fuck you in the ass. You little slut, why won’t you do it for me?”

He was a rich frat boy living off his parents paychecks, I was poor and naive.

I kept this secret for so long. The abuse, physical, mental, financial and sexual. I was so good at hiding the bruises, the tears, my fear of him, that not a single person knew. I was living in that hell, all alone and I was ashamed.

The very last time he hit me, it was so hard that I could feel my teeth crumble on my tongue along with the last of my self esteem. That was the day I left.

When I finally found my strength, it took me a week to break the news to my mother, who adored him. He had gotten to her first, so she called me accusing me of having a drinking problem.

He was my way out of our “shitty” life and he never let me forget it. He was paying for my tuition, bought me a house and bought me a car.

While my mother eventually believed me, (maybe not about the severity) my younger sister did not. My neighbors, did not. One of our mutual friends, a self proclaimed feminist encouraged his behavior. I was hurt, shocked and alone.

He was successfully manipulating all the people I knew and loved and mocking me while he did it.

When I reached out to the police after a month of deliberation because my boyfriend had threatened to plant drugs on me, get me kicked out of school and even kill me, they laughed in my face. They asked me condescendingly why I hadn’t come forward sooner.

I went to another police department in a nearby town where I was staying with my cousin, they investigated for a month and told me my evidence was insufficient to press charges because I had waited too long and had no witnesses.

Nothing happened to my abuser. We share custody of our child. Every interaction with him, is verbally abusive and I can’t and won’t be alone with him ever, because at any moment he could lash out and hurt me.

I wasn’t allowed to watch certain tv shows, any movie made before 2013, I was not allowed on social media or to talk to anyone of the opposite sex and was barely allowed to speak to my family.

He would wake me up in the middle of the night by slapping me across the face. Deprive me of sleep by forcing me to have sex or forcibly touching me until I was in tears from exhaustion.

This lasted six years. Six years of my life, I was so afraid to leave. So afraid of how I would survive, what people would think and truthfully, I loved him. I thought I could change him, if I tried enough. But you can’t change a man like that.

I finished a year of school, enough to get a fairly good paying job and that was what I used to support myself after leaving.

For months after, I couldn’t smile or look at myself in the mirror. I still get debilitating panic attacks and I don’t know if I’ll ever really heal from this trauma.

I’m writing to tell anyone who is in an abusive relationship of any kind, do not wait. Leave now. Report them, now. You will find your way without them. Even if everyone else thinks it’s a lie, at least your safe.

For the men who doubt us, I have no words for you. You will never be convinced, because it isn’t about facts or proof.

Now I can fall asleep at night. I can breathe again. I’m finding pieces of myself I thought I’d lost forever. It’s not easy, you do not owe anyone an explanation on why you stayed or why you waited and I believe you.

If you read this far, thank you. I hope, if nothing else, that I can offer some peace to other women who went through these situations as well. Now the time for silence has ended, we need to start speaking up when we are victimized and assaulted, even if no one is listening.

#kavanaugh whyistayed masculinitysofragile metoo sexualassault domesticviolence trump abuse women girls sex fight depression anxiety

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noisywitchanchor-blog · 7 years

Text

There are... Four forks. I don't think I can type about all four.

Fork I

I was on the way to her house to party with her and a few friends (literally a few doors away) when I got the call. "WHAT THE FUCK, WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT". Our sociopathic mutual friend had told her that I had slept with another mutual friend. At this time, we weren't together, we'd slept together after a really wild night out and I'd slept with this mutual before anything happened with her. I remember ducking to the train station and knocking on a friend's door, asking if I could crash there that evening, which luckily I could. For that whole night I stayed up as she rang me again and again to rant at me and tell me what a piece of shit I was. I clearly remember at about half twelve and the fourth or fifth call I thought "You aren't invested in this. She's pretty funny and pretty and you love her laugh, but you aren't invested. Why are you taking this abuse?" It was like a fork in my mind. I could stay, and help her work through her feelings of betrayal and anger or I could just switch off my phone, heft my bag over my shoulder, take the 45 minute train home and just drop all contact. (In my state, I had forgotten that the trains just don't run that late). I chose the left hand path and stayed on the phone to her, taking her calls, trying to reason with her until she passed out eventually at about 5am.

The next day, I called her and asked to talk. We sat on the kerb outside our friend's house and I made the conscious decision to be 100% honest. About everything. Up until this point in my life, I had been less than truthful with nearly everyone around me, using people as I saw fit to further my own ends and I was tired of the webs of deceit and the sick feeling that you get in your gut that comes with it. "I haven't started spinning a web of lies here yet. I haven't broken this social circle down. I could be absolutely truthful and honest and try being an actual decent human being." So we sat and talked. She asked me if it was true, and if so if it had happened in her house (It was, it had.). This was too much for her and she walked away. I sought refuge at my mumma's house and had the first Kitchen Floor Reset I'd had in a very, very long time. When I was completely exhausted from crying like a total snotbag, I called her again and asked if we could finish our talk. This time, we agreed to meet at the local park, under the bandstand. We sat and we talked and we smoked and we talked. And it was one of the most honest talks I've ever had. We spoke about past relationships and behaviours, why they were impacting how we felt right this second and if we could maybe move past it, to try and make a go of whatever 'this' was. Then out of absolutely nowhere, the heavens absolutely tore open and torrential rain soaked us from head to foot. We legged it back to the nearest house (my mumma's, bless her patient soul), getting soaked to the skin, but laughing and cursing out luck. My memory is a bit hazy after that, but we agreed that we'd try to make things work, date casually and see where we ended up.

Fork II

A year later, with my degree done and out of the way, we were moving in together. We were spending all our free time in each other's company anyway, so it made sense to do so, also I'd gotten pretty sick of living with my parentals by now, and needed my freedom. I applied for every shitty job I could find and scored one that was shiftwork for £13,000 a year in a warehouse. The work was absolute shit, but it let us live together under our own roof and things were okay. I felt unstoppable. We had dabbled in drugs as you do in your youth (Acid, weed, speed) but I noticed she was smoking more and more of this synthetic stuff that you could order in the post. I figured it was her life and we were strong enough that she would talk about it if it was too much. I should have seen the warning signs then.

(She had also scored her place at her dream university to study nursing, I was so, so over the moon for her. The thing was the university was in a major city and she had massive anxiety around the commute).

I was constantly tired from my early starts for the shiftwork (leaving the house by 5am most mornings), so I can't have been much fun to be around. She had picked up some work as a bank carer, going wherever her agency needed her to be that particular day when she was free to make up the rest of the rent. It was about this time I picked up World of Warcraft again and was not very attentive to her. I let myself slip into this routine of sleep/work/play some games/crash out. This continued for some time, with her smoking more and more. We did talk about it and she said she'd try to stop, but all I could really do was be there for her. I remember hearing a crash in the kitchen one evening, racing in to find her rolling on the floor in her dressing gown laughing, off her face. I asked if she was okay, and she giggled, then threw up all over me (I have this weird thing about puke, I hate it). I held in my disgust and helped her clean herself and the kitchen. The good thing about synth highs is that they don't last long, and I think that she noticed I was less than impressed.

A while later (I don't remember how long, though I'm sure I could dig out the messages), she said she was going out with some friends to a hen do so she had to dress up all slutty. In my tired state, I thought nothing of it and wished her a good evening. I asked if she was coming home that night and she said she wasn't sure. "Okay, have a great time, see you when I see you!" and passed out on the couch. I remember waking up groggily to the key being turned in the latch and I saw her come in with tears making her mascara streak and even then in my tired state my subconcious noted she'd not got the jacket on that she'd gone out in. I ran over and comforted her, giving her the biggest hug and stroking her hair, asking what was wrong. I can't remember what she said now, but it was untruthful. I think something about someone being mean to her. I soothed her and comforted her til she calmed down and put her to bed gently, where she soon fell asleep.

Some time later (Weeks? A Month? I really don't think it was that long but I can't recall), I was home before her, in a good mood and figured I'd have a nice chilled out bath. On an impulse, I grabbed her laptop from the side so I could listen to some music while I soaked. I tapped in her password (We didn't really have secrets from each other) and pulled open Spotify when yahoo messenger popped up. "Weird, who could she be talking to?" I felt my heart start to sink as there was only one contact in the contact list. "Mister O' or something similar. I double clicked the chat and felt dizzy as filthy messages flitted past my irises. I felt sick. To my knowlege, this is the first time someone had been unfaithful to me and I had no idea how to process what I was feeling. I flicked open her browser and checked her saved passwords (Thanks, Uni). Sure enough, there were login details for a site called 'swinger heaven' or something (Again, understandably, details hazy). I logged in and read the messages between her and this married 40 something year old talking about how they were going to meet up and how she should dress slutty. Oh and how next time they video chat she shouldn't cum without permission.

I can't write any more tonight.

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savannahsbpdadventures · 7 years

Text

BISEXUALITY IS NOT TRANSPHOBIC

Sorry about the lack of posts this week. Shit went down.

Alright, I’m only going to talk about Tuesday. If any events that happened on a previous day come up, I’ll be sure to go over them in detail.

After staying up until 6 AM the previous night, it took me a while to wake up Tuesday morning for my psychologist appointment. When I came back, Nana had once again took it upon herself to straighten my room up. This was typical, as the stupid old bitch doesn’t respect boundaries.

The state of my room has seriously gone downhill since I moved in about a month ago. I’ve spilled Diet Coke on the carpet, and while it wasn’t much, there are still little droplets. My bed is covered in laundry, potato chip bags, and art supplies, while I have a little strip of the bed clear so I can sleep. I usually don’t sleep at night anymore, though. I stay up until the early morning and then fall asleep to avoid spending time with Nana. She’s insufferable.

After the appointment, I went into my room and spent most of my time on the computer, writing a blog post for yesterday that is being reformatted to this one right now, since I couldn’t post it last night, since I fell asleep at 7.

Unfortunately, Nana came in multiple times to ask me the same god damn questions and tell me the same god damn things over and over and over again. Something that really bothers me about her is that she goes into the fridge every five minutes and gives me a briefing on what’s in there, even after I tell her I’m not hungry. The vibe that I’m getting from this is that she wants me to eat as much as possible so I get even fatter, which will make her feel even better about herself.

Then she started bitching at me because I was doing nothing but laying down. I wanted to scream at her and tell her that I didn’t feel like spending time with her because she’s not smart, witty, or even somewhat of a nice person. Instead, I sucked it up and pulled a board game out of the chest of them she has with a crazed smile. “We can play Scrabble after dinner! Does that sound okay? Will you finally stop bothering me?”

I honestly didn’t want to spend all my time in my room. I would have preferred to take a bus to the mall and just spend some time there, but I had accidentally left my allowance in my pants pocket and had given the pants to my mother to wash, meaning that I had no money that day.

I had already splurged my saved allowance last week on some travel size products that I might just buy the full sizes of since I’m so obsessed with having the best.

The reason I spent the money? I needed to cope. My friend Paul had blocked me on Facebook the night before I had spent the twenty dollars. He had unblocked me that night, and had told me why he had done so.

I had updated my relationship status to “In A Relationship” with Ben on Wednesday, which is something I’ve been waiting to do for a long-ass time. I was going to tell Paul I was seeing him earlier, but when I showed him the picture of us together, he immediately got jealous. I felt like I would just break it to him later. But he saw the status and blocked me.

Another reason he told me he blocked me was because I identified as bisexual, and that identity apparently is inherently transphobic??? Weird, I know.

I knew that on this blog eventually, I would start delving into social justice issues, and I think now is the perfect time to start.

Ever since I was eleven, I’ve known I was attracted to other girls, as well as guys. At thirteen, I took on the identity of bisexual, because that’s what most accurately described my situation. I never really faced any oppression over this, besides the occasional hateful street preachers and girls on Tinder trying to exploit my sexuality by trying to get me to sleep with them and their ugly ass boyfriends. Also, my mother believed it was just a phase, and that I would end up being attracted to only men in my adulthood, because there’s no way a person can be attracted to two genders at once!

I like men and I like women. It’s that simple. At least, I believed it was that simple. In 2015, I became familiar with people who existed outside that spectrum. I don’t mean binary trans people, because even though they were designated one gender at birth, they still are another binary gender. I’m talking about people who are nonbinary. People with genders such as agender, trigender, bigender, among others that exist outside of the male-female realm. I thought it was kind of weird at first, as it was different from something that’s been hammered into everyone since we were color-coded pink and blue as babies. I did always daydream about a third gender someday making an official appearance, unknowing that there’s many more genders that people identify under.

When I found this out, I did consider identifying as pansexual, to accommodate all genders, but I did some thinking and decided to continue identifying as bisexual, because the chances of ever meeting someone who would neither be male or female are very slim, or so I thought.

Joining social justice circles introduces you to a lot of different people, including nonbinary people. I was unaware Paul was nonbinary, and I thought he was just a trans guy. His official title is nonbinary transmasculine boy, which is quite a mouthful. I think I added Paul on Facebook because he was mutual friends with a nonbinary person that he is no longer friends with who is cool and really into social justice, and I thought Paul would be the same way. I was sort of wrong. Something that really pisses me off about him is that he’s VERY against sex work and sex workers. I’ve been too afraid to ask why, but I can’t comprehend why anyone would be thoroughly against it. Like??? Why??? Who are sex workers hurting? He even admits he has very intolerant views towards it, but he’s done nothing to open his mind on why that’s such a shitty opinion.

Like I said, sex workers are the most marginalized group of people on the planet. People are outed as sex workers every day, having their lives completely ruined. Take Louise Rosealma for example. She’s an Antifa sex worker who got assaulted at a pro-Trump rally after protesting. People have turned the footage of her getting punched in the face into a meme. Then, the alt-right doxxed her, releasing photos and videos of her work as a camgirl onto the Internet with her real name for all to see. The fellow left wouldn’t even defend her because she’s a non-black person with dreads. Like, really? This lady had her life ruined, and no one is even going to defend her because she’s supposedly racist because she decided to do her hair a certain way.

That’s not to say that I’m in favor of white people having this hairstyle. I think it is a racist act to have dreads as a white person. It’s cultural appropriation, plain and simple. Black people are shamed for wearing dreads all the time, meanwhile, when white people do it, it’s a fashion statement. If white people are shamed for having dreads, they can easily take them out and go back to being a white person who faces no injustice for their race. Something similar happens when covering the Berkeley Pro-Trump rally. Worse things happened to people of color at that event, and this white woman is the only one who is getting coverage. Anyway, that’s enough about that.

So anyway, I’m really scared that this could happen to me if I even accidentally find myself in the public eye. Like Louise Rosealma, or that lady who was being mean to a couple publicly being affectionate. Neither of them expected to be outed, and now, their lives are probably ruined. I get heart palpitations every day when my mind wanders to this, and it’s making me afraid to go about my daily life.

I seriously regret camming. THIS IS NOT EQUAL TO BEING ASHAMED OF IT. I think that webcam models, as well as escorts, strippers, fetish models, sugar babies, porn actors, phone sex operators, and even full service sex workers (the ones who actually sleep with their clients), deserve respect, because all of those are completely valid career choices. I was really into camming at some point. I started two days after my eighteenth birthday, and have even bought costumes for it. After that scare with the stalker I had mentioned, I got too scared to continue, and have since taken actions to erase my presence off the Internet.

But anyway, it’s typical for some white cishet Christian man to be offended by sex work, because those motherfuckers are making legislation to make it harder for us to do what we do all the time. I just didn’t expect opposition from someone who seemed so… woke…

Apparently, my identity is oppressive. Like… no??? I usually defend my friends who aren’t in the majority, but this is just ridiculous. He had a crush on me, and he’s just mad because I won’t sleep with him. That’s that.

Anyway, I could get away with not playing the board game with Nana. Instead, I just fell asleep at 7 PM.

Those were my thoughts of Tuesday. Talk to you tomorrow!

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