#they just ignore me and say some bullshit like 'we are trying to teach you life's not fair :('

[silverislander]

working here is making me a little bit nuts abt antibullying again <3

[buckybabesonly]

as long as we're together (does it matter where we go?)

Summary: You don't want to be a burden to Bucky, knowing he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!OC

Genre: Angst

Length: 7.8k

Two years ago

“I don’t think I want to be with you anymore.”

Bucky had expected it. Weeks of you being distant, making secret phone calls, avoiding his touches like they physically hurt you. Countless times Bucky had asked, what's wrong?, only for you to shut him down and say that everything was fine. Bucky was sick of hearing that empty, meaningless mantra, but it didn’t mean that he reveled in your confession now.

Even though it didn't come as a surprise, it still felt like a punch to the gut. It physically winded him to hear those words leave your lips.

He wondered what he did wrong. He wondered where they went wrong. They were so in love, so wonderfully content in each other's company. You were his person. Steve had once told Bucky that he would find someone unexpectedly, when Bucky made an off-hand comment about how lucky he was to have met Peggy.

“You’ll find your Peggy.”

Things had been perfect. Or maybe Bucky had just been in denial, ignoring all the problems between you because he thought that his feelings for you triumphed over everything, no matter what hardships you may have been suffering from. How could he ever face the reality that you might actually leave in pursuit of something better?

Now, Bucky’s chest was tight with an indescribable feeling, both of you stood in your shared apartment. Your belongings stuffed into a black suitcase, Bucky’s heart in pieces on the hardwood floor.

He had expected it, but it didn't stop him from wanting to die.

"Why?" It was all he could ask. He wanted to know the reason, wanted to understand. Wanted to know if he could fix it. He was desperate to make you stay.

Bucky stared at your face. You looked so...indifferent. Unattached, in contrast to the woman he had met all those years ago. Where had the softness in your eyes gone? Why couldn’t you meet his pleading gaze, even now? At what point did your feelings for him start to fade, and was there anything he could have done to salvage it?

Your face was a blank slate, emotionless, and it made Bucky feel a truly troubling combination of sadness and anger. It was as if you had already said your goodbyes to their relationship, completely ready to move on whilst Bucky was still trying to process your words. You were ready to leave him behind to mourn.

“I don’t think we’re right for each other,” you had said quietly. “I don’t think we can give each other what we need.”

"Bullshit," Bucky said, his voice cracking. You grimaced ever so slightly at his tone, still unable to meet his eyes. "How can you say that?"

He took a step forward; you matched it with a retreating step, but with wide strides he seized your wrists. He silently willed you to say something which could somehow lessen the excruciating pain.

“Will you just look at me?”

He wanted so badly for you to meet his stare, to find some source of comfort within your eyes which usually held so much love for him.

Finally, you relented and lifted your head. They did not fill Bucky with any hope. You pressed your lips together firmly as he searched your face desperately for any sign of residual affection.

"We - we're in love. How can you say after all these years that we're not right for each other? For fuck's sake, will you just tell me what happened?"

"People change, Bucky," you said softly. The look on your face - was it sadness, or apathy? "We've become too distant."

"And whose fault is that?" Bucky released you then. He was so angry, wanting to elicit some sort of reaction from you, that he wanted to punch the wall beside them. It made him feel nauseous at how stoic you were now, like a piece of unyielding rock. He knew you hated it when he took his anger out physically. You had been the one to teach him how to manage his rage more constructively, to talk things out and use his words rather than his fists.

"Are you trying to say it's mine?" Your tone was sharp, finally demonstrating some emotion. "Are you saying that all those nights waiting for you to come back home, all those evenings alone whilst you stayed at the Tower, all those hours I spent staring at the four walls of this apartment were my fault?"

"You left me!" Bucky retorted, gritting his teeth. "You left me long before today! You think I haven't noticed? You can barely stand touching me. You're always on your phone, always texting, always out seeing your 'friends'," he said, making air quotes. "I asked Wanda, she said you haven't been meeting her or your other friends for weeks. Who's this 'friend’? Who the fuck is it that's so important that you can't spare any time for me, never mind your actual friends?"

A long, pregnant pause filled the air, an indecipherable mask on your face once more. Bucky’s eyes were wet, and if he hadn't been so angry, he would've seen the way your lower lip was trembling ever so slightly, the way it did whenever you were trying not to cry. It had been the biggest telltale sign for him over the years to know when you were upset and trying your best to hide it.

He was usually so good at reading you, but he was blinded with sadness.

"Fine," you said eventually, slicing the silence with a shaky exhale. "I'm seeing someone else."

You might as well have struck Bucky across the face.

Suspecting it and hearing the words fall from your lips were two different things. He physically reeled back in anguish as he stared at you. He took in the sight of his girlfriend in front of him, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. This was, without a doubt, the woman he had met five years ago. The woman he spent five years loving. The woman whom he recognized no longer.

"Why?" Bucky whispered, all the fight leaving his body. He physically seemed to sag, forehead creasing at all the other questions running through his mind, visions of you being touched and fucked by some faceless, nameless man.

You were almost pitiful in the way you looked at Bucky, and he hated it.

"I care for you, Bucky. But I’m not in love with you anymore. And I'm sorry I had to do this to you. Things just got out of control."

I’m not in love with you anymore.

You offered no further information, but he had stopped listening, anyway. The finality in your voice pierced him slowly, tortuously, through the heart. He barely moved when you took your suitcase and pulled it out behind you, out of their apartment. Out of his life.

The door slammed shut.

Present day

You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Mercedes Knight & Samuel Wilson

Sam had become Bucky’s closest confidant in the past few years, and the latter had been a close witness as Sam met Mercedes ‘Misty’ Knight, a former NYPD officer who had somehow become roped into their crazy world. It was no surprise to Bucky when they announced their engagement just six months into dating.

Bucky found himself being pulled into their wedding planning discussions far too often. He tried to keep an amused smile at bay whilst listening into Misty and Sam’s wedding talk at the Tower. They were using one of the many conference rooms - a Knight-Wilson union was official business, Misty insisted.

"Are you bringing a date?" Misty asked suddenly in the middle of everything, the question directed at Bucky.

"Of course he's bringing a date," Sam smirked. "Heard things with Sharon are going well, right?"

Bucky smiled non-committedly, shrugging. "She's great." It didn’t go unnoticed by Sam that this didn’t quite answer his question.

"You two look good together," Misty offered. She glanced at her watch and widened her eyes theatrically, grabbing Sam’s hand. "Oh crap, we need to go meet with the wedding planner."

"But it feels like we just sat down," Sam complained.

"There's no rest for the bride and groom, Sam," Misty said, pulling her fiancé out of his seat as she waved goodbye at Bucky.

As soon as they departed, the smile on Bucky’s face dimmed. He was beyond happy for his two friends, he really was - but every couple he knew was a fresh reminder of his own failed love life.

Ever since you, he hadn't been in a long term relationship. Sharon is different, he told himself, and she was. They had been friends for a long time, and of course spent a lot of time together carrying out missions and the like. Over time, somehow, they had gotten closer, and one day Sharon had just asked him, “So when are you going to ask me out, Barnes?”

At that point, Bucky was still frequently thinking about you. Sharon had never met you before, but Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if she had heard stories about you from the others, since he had been notoriously affected by the breakup. Even though he was dealing with the aftershocks of the broken relationship, he was forcing himself to get past it.

They had been dating for two months now, and it only seemed right for Sharon to be his date at the wedding.

He had moved on. He was no longer the depressed, dark wreck he was when you left.

Sometimes it’s better to lie to yourself than to face the reality.

“You invited Bucky’s ex to the wedding?” Misty asked curiously.

“Uh, yeah. She’s not just his ex,” Sam explained gently. “She’s my friend too, and I haven’t seen her since she left town.”

"You told Bucky?"

"Nope," Sam snorted, shaking his head. "I can't. I don't think he'd turn up if I did. I want them both there on the day - I'm sure they can be civil for one night."

“I wonder how Bucky will react," his future wife pondered.

Sam shrugged. Not well, probably.

"What else can I do? I can’t not invite her, I really want her to be there. You never met her, so you don’t know, but she’s been through some shit.”

“I know, I know, you told me,” Misty said. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt. Do you think she'll be okay seeing Bucky again? Especially if he'll be there with Sharon?"

"She said she can handle it. She would be happy to see that Bucky was happy. She was the one who practically begged me to encourage him to move on."

“Do you think he has?”

Sam paused, considering the question carefully.

“He has to.”

Several weeks later, Misty Knight and Sam Wilson were officially wed at the local registration office. The day was full of hugs, cacophonous laughter, friends and family, and Bucky watched with a wide beam on his face as he witnessed his friends glow. Those kinds of smiles were few and far between nowadays, but he was truly happy for once.

"They look so good together," Sharon murmured as hundreds of guests filled the hotel ballroom, the party commencing in full swing. The newlyweds were in the center of the room, Misty being twirled around wildly by a laughing Sam before his wife collapsed against his chest in fits of giggles, looking up into his eyes adoringly.

More and more people joined them on the dance floor after the conclusion of their official first dance.

"Barnes, would you like to dance?" Sharon asked suddenly with a smile, extending a hand.

Bucky chuckled, allowing her to take his hand and lead him out to the dance floor.

An hour passed, and Bucky had to truthfully say that he was enjoying himself, assisted by all the alcohol he had consumed. Sharon was draped all over him as they swayed to the music, and Bucky found himself appreciating the feel of her body against his all too much, the scent of her intoxicating. His hands felt the fabric of her silky, emerald green dress, buried his nose into Sharon's blonde hair, sighing softly as he tightened his grip on her waist.

Her perfume was strong and woodsy, like a forest. It irritated his nose ever so slightly. You had preferred a more subtle, floral perfume, one that smelt like sakura blossoms.

Sharon was more confident and seductive in the way she danced, whilst you used to always let yourself become putty in his arms, enjoying how he took the lead and managed to make you look like you knew how to dance despite your two left feet.

However, despite the differences, if Bucky closed his eyes and just tried a little harder, he think he could pretend that -

"Sorry to interrupt.”

Bucky pulled away from Sharon suddenly, and he turned to mock glare at Sam. "What do you want, Wilson?"

"Need to borrow you for a minute," Sam said, an undecipherable expression on his face. Bucky tried to see where Misty had disappeared off to, but saw no trace.

"Um, sure..." Bucky tried to read Sam’s face but gleaned nothing.

"I'll just go say hi to Natasha," Sharon said, giving Bucky’s forearm a squeeze before she disappeared.

Sam’s smile faded, and he caught Bucky’s arm in a vice grip. "I need to tell you something. Don't get mad, okay?"

"What?" Bucky scowled as Sam dragged him to the side of the room, weaving through the crowds of guests. "What good news starts with, ‘don’t get mad’? Are you gonna tell me you want to run out on Misty or something?" He joked.

Sam pulled him out through one of the open French doors which led to a pretty, outdoor stone balcony. He shut them behind him as Bucky continued to babble, a little tipsy from the champagne he'd had. "I gotta tell ya, if she asks me to kick your ass I will literally do so -”

"Bucky," Sam said, taking a deep breath. "She’s here." Meeting Bucky’s nonplussed eyes, your name rolled off Sam’s tongue in clarification.

He felt like the breath was sucked from his lungs as he stared back at Sam, who looked uncharacteristically anxious.

“What?" He asked hoarsely, instantly sobering up. “What do you mean?”

Chills were running through his body. The name he had avoided for years was suddenly causing him to feel breathless. How did you still have such an affect on him?

"She couldn't make it to the ceremony earlier today, but she just arrived."

"You - you invited her here? She’s here, now?"

"Yes," Sam replied, nodding. "I invited her.” He straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest almost defiantly.

Bucky was speechless for a moment, taking a step back and scoffing. He shook his head. “Do you remember what she did to me?”

“I'm sorry, Buck..."

Bucky suddenly laughed, startling Sam. His laugh was curt, humorless. "What are you sorry for? I'm over her, Sam. It was two years ago. I haven't seen her in two years. I don't care anymore," he said quickly. Too quickly.

"Listen -"

"Look, it's okay." Bucky raised his hands in small surrender. “You have the right to invite whoever you want. I’m not mad. But I just don’t want to be held accountable for whatever happens now.”

He turned and wrenched the French doors open with such force that the handle buckled slightly. The noise inside the ballroom spilled out to replace the painful silence on the balcony.

He disappeared inside before Sam could say anything else, and he tried to hide it, but Sam could clearly see that his hands were shaking as he marched inside.

For the next twenty minutes, Bucky found sanctuary in the restrooms. He stood inside the stall, trying to stop himself from mentally collapsing.

He didn’t know what was happening. He had never felt this overwhelming panic rush over him before, immobilizing him. Anger, sadness and yearning swirling inside a melting pot of emotions that was crippling him.

She was here. The woman he hadn't seen in two years, the woman who broke his heart, the woman who betrayed him, the woman who left him in tatters.

Your infidelity had had an unforeseen impact on him. When he first found out, he was devastated. Terrified of how you became someone he didn’t recognize - or had you always been someone capable of betraying him, just good at hiding it?

You had poisoned all the happy memories they had once shared. Bucky found himself recounting all the years you were together, micro-analyzing everything, wondering if there was a hidden lie behind it all.

That was one of the things which made him angriest. You turned all the beautiful years of your relationship into a lie. None of it was real, Bucky had told himself.

You crushed him.

Of his feelings, anger prevailed, slowly simmering to the surface, like a volcano about to erupt. How dare you walk back into his life like this? He would show you, Bucky thought with determination. He was over you. He had no reason to be angry, he thought bitterly, because you were nothing to him.

Just like Bucky was nothing to you.

When he emerged from the toilets, the first thing he did was find Sharon. She looked relieved to see him, although confusion was clear on her face as she eyed Bucky.

"Where have you been? Are you feeling okay?" She commented, brow furrowed with concern.

"I'm fine," Bucky assured her. "Have you seen Sam?"

Sharon pointed, puzzlement still painted across her face, and Bucky snapped round quickly.

And there you were.

It was as if you had never left. As if the past two years filled with Bucky trying to eradicate every memory and feeling he had for you had never happened, because as soon as Bucky’s eyes found you through the crowd, everything came collapsing back down on top of him like an avalanche. Suffocating.

You were still so beautiful, strikingly so. Like a burning beacon among the crowd, Bucky’s eyes found your face as easily as anything. For a second, he allowed himself to ignore anything except you, and how the sight of you still managed to take his breath away.

You looked thinner than he remembered, your face gaunt. Bucky frowned slightly at this acute observation and found himself wondering if you had been taking care of yourself.

"Barnes? You okay?"

Bucky registered Sharon shaking his arm, but his eyes remained fastened on yourself and Sam. Neither of you had spotted Bucky yet, who was rooted to the spot like a statue. Sam’s mouth was moving, words that Bucky couldn't hear escaping his mouth, but his expression was angry. Almost as if he was scolding you for something.

"I have to...I..." Bucky stumbled over his words, voice faint. He could feel those tendrils of anger slowly seizing him again, wisps at first, until they grew more and more potent by the second. He remembered every single thing he felt when you left him, and instead of trying to hold back the emotions, Bucky just saw red.

"Let me introduce you to someone," he said suddenly, his voice strained as he took Sharon's hand.

"You said you were better," Sam said, expression torn.

"I am," you lied, trying to put on a smile. Truth was, you were exhausted, just like how you always felt. The ballroom was so crowded and loud, and you just wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep, which you would the moment you finished congratulating Sam and Misty. And perhaps, even though you didn't want to admit it, you wanted to catch a glimpse of Bucky, too.

"Look at you, you're -"

“Sam, please don’t,” you interrupted gently. “Just drop it, please? It’s your big day, I don’t want you to worry about anything else.”

Sam opened his mouth to talk, but stopped suddenly, his eyes flitting to look behind you.

"Hey."

You froze. You knew that voice, of course. Heard it enough times, the deep, gravelly voice that had once whispered sweet pet names, proclamations of love, and plagued your dreams ever since you left him.

You had longed to hear his voice again, hear your name being spoken lovingly. His voice was your favorite sound in the world. Except tonight, hearing it for the first time in two years, you heard nothing but ice.

"Bucky?" You turned slowly, and your breath hitched. He was just the way you remembered him. Even more handsome, if possible. Clad in a sleek black tux, tall and dark and sexy, everything you had missed and dreamed of, and...

He was holding another woman’s hand.

"Bucky," Sam repeated, voice tense. Bucky could hear the underlying warning.

"It's been a while," he said stiffly, acting as neutral as he could. As if he hadn't spent months after their terrible break up being a shell of who he used to be, barely repaired even now. Bucky felt like any other venomous words from your mouth would shatter him again, but he had to take the chance. He had to talk to you, show you that he had moved on. He didn't care about you anymore, or how you so ruthlessly left him.

"Yes," you said weakly, smiling softly. God, he still thought that you looked beautiful, clad in a periwinkle blue dress, a thick coat draped around your shoulders. You were shivering, and Bucky resisted the urge to ask you what was wrong. Now that he was closer, he could see that didn’t look well at all. You had dark circles under your eyes and your collarbones were too prominent, your gaze devoid of any livelihood.

You glanced at Bucky’s fingers interlaced with a gorgeous blonde. You had seen her on the news before, you were pretty certain. Your smile forcibly stretched wider, blinking a few times, not knowing what to do with yourself.

"This is Sharon," Sam said, clearing his throat and exchanging introductions.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Sharon said politely. She was gorgeous, you thought, watching as she sent Bucky a subtle, questioning glance.

Bucky was still staring at you, unmoving. You took the initiative first.

“Bucky, can we talk for a second?"

You could see the way he was trying to control himself by the way his lips stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He gave a curt nod. He didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Sharon and the other hundreds of wedding guests.

“Let’s leave these two to catch up,” Sam said lightly, trying to hide his discomfort as he led Sharon away.

"So now you want to talk?" Bucky asked as soon as they were out of earshot, his voice sharp. You cringed, almost folding into yourself at Bucky’s hard stare.

"Yes," was all you managed to whisper, eyes darting to the ground to avoid meeting his glare. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

You turned and walked towards the exit of the ballroom, turning back to look at Bucky. He followed after a second, his jaw set like stone as you led the way to the empty lobby outside, away from the noise.

"It's been a while, Buck.” You voice was sad as you turned to face him again.

"Yes," he said, fighting an internal battle. He was so torn. Seeing you again made him want to wrap you up in his arms like he would've done two years ago, when you were still together. And feeling like that made Bucky angry. What right did you have to make him feel this way? Who gave you the right to mess with Bucky’s heart again after so long?

"How have you been?" You asked eventually after a painfully awkward silence.

He scoffed at that. "How have I been?" He repeated incredulously. He doubted you really wanted to hear about all those nights he spent in his apartment, refusing to talk to his friends, being a complete social introvert (more than he usually was) because he felt like he just couldn't live anymore. Not without you.

"Great. Fantastic," he said without a shred of sincerity.

You stared at him for the longest time, your lips pressed into a thin line. You looked so regretful that it made Bucky feel uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," you said eventually, your voice wavering like you were struggling to breathe properly. "I'm so sorry for leaving you like that. We...we could have ended things better. You didn't deserve how I treated you."

You flinched when Bucky scoffed derisively. He dropped any remaining restraints he had previously put in place, letting all his feelings run free.

"Are you kidding me? Why? Why are you coming back here and apologizing after all this time?" He felt like he wanted to tear his hair out in frustration as he stared at you, making sure to keep his distance lest he found himself wanting to pull you closer. God, it was all so confusing. He despised you, and yet seeing you here in the flesh was everything he had ever wanted in the last few years.

He hated how you were making him feel.

"Look, it doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done," he spat through gritted teeth, all the while completely unaware of how your heart clenched painfully at Bucky’s scornful eyes. “Do you have any idea how unfair this is? You fucked up big time, disappeared off the face of the earth, then come back standing in front of me now asking how I am?”

“I know. You’re right, about everything. I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry.”

“No. You have no right to do this,” Bucky seethed. “You have no right to come back here and try to - what, settle your guilt? Make amends?”

You didn’t say anything, choosing to let him vent instead.

“I still remember the way you left. What you did. I will never forgive you for that. So don’t you dare stand in front of me today with all this bullshit and expect me to have something nice to say.”

"You really hate me, don't you?" You asked then, taking Bucky off guard. You lifted your head properly to stare at him, and the look in your eyes was unsettling.

"I hate you," Bucky confirmed unwaveringly, his voice hard. "I hate what you did to me and by extension, you."

You didn't respond. You bit your lower lip hard, trying desperately not to cry in front of him. Your heart hurt so much.

It was the worst feeling in the world, maybe, seeing the man you loved so dearly tell you that he hated you. It was excruciating, the clenching inside your chest as Bucky’s words rang in your head.

"I know my apologies will never be enough. I just wanted to see if you're happy now," you whispered.

"I'm happy," Bucky replied almost immediately. "I'm happy with Sharon. Does that bother you? Did you hope that I'd still be pining after you? I'm not that pathetic anymore." The barriers were broken, and the hurtful words were falling from Bucky’s mouth, two years worth of it.

“I never said you were pathetic,” you retorted, slightly indignant. “I’m glad that you’re happy.”

Bucky was breathing hard, unconvinced by your words.

“And how's the man you left me for?"

"He...it didn't work out," you shrugged, trying to keep your face as straight as possible.

"Good," Bucky said harshly. "Because you don't deserve happiness." If he wasn't so mad, he wouldn't say such irrational things. But he just wanted you to hurt. He wanted you to feel all the pain you caused.

Bucky pretended he didn't hear you gasp. He pretended that he didn't see your eyes gloss over at the sheer amount of hate in his voice.

"Okay," you said finally, your voice clearly shaking. "Okay," you repeated again, nodding your head. Bucky watched you take a step back, away from him.

“I -”

“I'm sorry, Bucky. Please take care," you interrupted, smiling sadly before you turned and walked away as quickly as possible.

That was not how you envisioned the reunion to go. All you wanted was to apologize, know that he was happy, so that you could go in peace.

But maybe that was the consequence of your decision. Maybe he was just always going to hate you for the rest of his life and remember you as someone awful.

You didn’t know that all Bucky wanted to do was run after you. Tell you to stop. He wanted to apologize and tell you how he didn’t mean a word of what he just said.

Rage and pride kept him shackled, and he watched your retreating back, feeling like a coward.

The last thing Bucky expected when he opened his apartment door a few days later was Sam’s dirty glare.

"You can be a mean son of a bitch, do you know that?”

"Hello to you too,” Bucky retorted.

“Why did you say all that stuff to her?” Sam asked, pushing his way past Bucky.

Bucky closed the door, knowing exactly who he was referring to.

"Why is this any of your business?"

"You acted like a dick!" Sam said furiously.

“Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done something like that on your special day. But-”

“I want you to feel sorry to her.”

"She left me,” Bucky exclaimed. "You were there, Sam, you saw how fucked up she made me. She cheated on me! You want me to apologize to her?” His face was incredulous.

“You’re so fucking frustrating.”

“Oh, excuse me for not being the bigger person,” Bucky sneered. “But you don’t know how she made me feel, Sam, so don’t you dare try to give me a fucking lecture now.”

Sam was quiet for the longest time, looking exasperated. He stared up at the ceiling, sighing.

“Bucky, look man. She never cheated on you,” Sam said finally, an apologetic look in his eyes.

The apartment became filled with nothing but the sounds of Bucky’s heavy breathing.

“What are you talking about?” He spat, realizing now that Sam knew something he didn’t.

Sam let out a resigned sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I promised her I wouldn’t tell you. But fuck it, man, cause I think this is messed up. She’s sick, Bucky," he said solemnly. "Like, really sick."

Two years ago

"It's cancer, Sam."

You physically couldn't cry anymore. You had done enough of that the day the doctor had told you, your eyes puffy and swollen. Funnily enough, the first person you had sought out wasn’t your boyfriend, but rather his best friend.

Bucky wasn’t even in town that weekend, and you really didn’t want to tell him over the phone. In fact, you never wanted to tell him. How do you tell the man you love that you're dying?

"You can get treatment, right?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. It’s not looking good. They're doing some sort of new clinical trial in England, but even that’s a long shot. I - I’m going to try, though.”

Sam sat up straighter. “And Bucky?”

"You can't tell him," you said firmly. You had thought about it all night, and you knew you couldn't let him know. You didn't want to put him through something like this. "My father had cancer too, Sam," you said softly. "He died in so much pain, he had so much treatment but it didn't help. He was throwing up all the time, having fevers, his body was so weak, and by the end he wasn’t the same anymore. I don't want him to see me like that."

“But-”

“No buts,” you said. You had given it enough thought already. You knew that you would have to be very, very lucky to make it through this - the end was essentially inevitable. There was no way you would make Bucky bear witness to you succumbing to this illness the same way you had to watch your father.

It was the worst time of your life. You had told Bucky about it in the past, as he had never had a chance to meet your father since he passed away years before you met Bucky. Knowing what you did, you would never inflict that same experience on him.

"So what are you going to do?"

"I have to leave him.” You had been preparing yourself for what you needed to do all night. "If I go, there's a chance I might not come back, you understand that, right?"

"Don't say things like that," Sam said forcefully, clenching your hand. "Just stop. Bucky will support you all the way, you know that!"

"That’s exactly why I have to go by myself. I can't be selfish, Sam. I want him to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted. I can’t make him drop everything to make me his number one priority. Looking after me will take time and constant care. If I go to England, he will abandon everything and come. Manhattan is his home.”

Sam looked anguished and you knew that he was disagreeing with everything you had just said, but you plowed on.

"It’s not just a matter of time and effort. If he stays, he will watch me die, and I don’t want him to do that.” You began to cry, and Sam hugged you, wishing he could say something comforting.

“It’s okay," you said through the tears, even though every fiber in your body was telling you the opposite. You had been repeating these words to yourself all night, as if you would believe it if you said it enough times. "It’ll be okay."

Maybe you were being stupid, but you didn't care. You knew Bucky loved you with his body and soul, as did you. But you weren’t going to let him suffer over your illness. You wouldn't let the person you cared most about in the world see you slowly deteriorate.

You had been witness to how your father was clearly in a depressive state, and yet tried his hardest to pretend to be happy and fine around other people. You didn’t know if you had the strength or bravery to even pretend.

You began distancing yourself. Stopped trying to make conversation with Bucky, until the long, endless, random talks you used to share diminished into curt sentences. You stopped waiting for Bucky to come home, simply pretending that you didn't care. You became more secretive, furtively hiding your calls with your doctor and your mother.

There was no other man. You loved him and only him, and had been nothing but faithful. You didn't know what hurt more: having to lie to Bucky or the fact that he so easily believed you would betray him like that.

In the end, you had really regretted fabricating a story of infidelity. You should have just gone your separate ways without making him think that you had been unfaithful. But at that time, you wanted to find a quick solution that would make Bucky voluntarily detach himself from you. It seemed like a wise decision, but you really, really wish you hadn’t let him believe that you didn’t love him. It was truly the worst feeling in the world.

It was all over in a few weeks. You packed your things and left, trying not to cry with every heavy step you took towards the door of your apartment. You knew you were making the best decision for them both, surely.

Time would heal Bucky, and he would be happy again one day.

It just couldn’t be with you.

Present day

"She just didn’t want to feel like a burden to you, man," Sam said, shaking his head. "Why did you have to say all those things to her at the wedding?"

Bucky could register nothing else after Sam finished explaining everything. He was in disbelief, though he knew that there was no way Sam would fabricate a story like that.

Now, he could only think of the way he had shouted at you. The way he told you how much he hated you. The way you had left.

"Where is she?" Bucky whispered.

"She’s leaving today," Sam said tersely. "She’s going back to England. She was real sick for a long time, and she recovered a few months ago, but the cancer came back.”

He slipped a hotel business card into Bucky’s hand. “This is the address she’s staying at," Sam said.

He grasped it like a lifeline, eyes unable to see Sam standing in front of him. His vision was completely filled with images of you.

"Go," Sam said forcefully. "Go and find her.”

The tears wouldn't stop falling.

You didn't know words could hurt so much. Sure, you had expected Bucky to hate you, but you weren’t prepared for the way every single word seemed to embed themselves into your skin like splinters into your heart.

They were once so happy. They were so perfect.

You hated yourself. Hated yourself for getting ill, for ruining what you had. The logic was irrational, but the self-hatred had become second nature.

You had spent the last few days holed up in your hotel. You had planned to use the time to see a few friends before returning to England, but you no longer had the heart.

You left your room that morning only because Wanda was furious that she missed you at the wedding, and you agreed to have coffee with her. She almost cried at the sight of you, but you put on a brave face, refusing to talk about Bucky. You begged her if you could just talk about happy topics and she eventually obliged, smiling sadly when you hugged each other goodbye.

“I’ll see you again, dear,” Wanda had said, and you hoped to God she was right.

As soon as you got inside your hotel room, you felt a switch click internally.

Everything hurt. You were tired, unhappy and you really didn’t know if you would ever make it out of this emotional blackhole. You felt so weak, like you would keel over at any given moment.

Cancer really was a bitch.

You kicked off your shoes and entered the bathroom. You lay down in the bathtub, fully clothed, turning the cold water on until you were almost completely submerged, wanting to numb all the pain inside your body and mind.

You eyes were red and swollen, and you couldn't remember crying so much since that day the doctor diagnosed you. Why was life so unfair? You wanted your old life back again. The life where Bucky didn't detest you, the one where he was happily and wonderfully in love with you.

You lay back, letting the water cover you completely. You closed your eyes, your hair gently swirling around your face. You opened your mouth and screamed, bubbles erupting to the surface.

Eventually you emerged, gasping and coughing, your tears hot in contrast to your frozen face. Your body wracked with sobs, shaking uncontrollably.

You sank back down into the water, your mouth opening once more to scream in uncontrollable rage. It was cathartic, your fists clenched into balls as you willed the feelings inside you to just - disappear.

When you opened your eyes beneath the water, you nearly gasped at the sight of a blurry, warped figure above you. You didn't have time to do anything when arms were suddenly encasing themselves around you, lifting you to the surface.

You spluttered and coughed, your ears assaulted by the voice that once whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

"- the fuck are you doing? Are you okay?"

Bucky.

You blinked past the water in your eyes, bewildered at the sight of him, kneeling beside the bathtub with his hands gripping your shoulders. His bright blue eyes were scared, wide open with concern.

You were startled at his sudden appearance, unable to say anything as he scooped you out, lifting you with ease. You were clearly in shock and scared.

You collapsed against him as he sat down on the bathroom floor with you in his arms.

"What were you doing?” Bucky was appalled as he pulled you close to him, watching how you continued to weep, blinking blearily at him. Your body was ice cold, every inch of you soaked.

He whipped a towel down from the railing beside you, wrapping it around your body as you shivered uncontrollably.

"Bu - Bucky?" You asked, as if you couldn't fathom why he was here. You were almost convinced you were hallucinating.

"Fuck, we need to get you out of these clothes," Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he tried not to cry. He had so much to say to you. He wanted you to know how sorry he was, how he didn't mean anything he said, but now wasn’t the time. He had to be strong for you.

You felt like a baby as Bucky removed your soaking wet garments until you were naked, then immediately swaddled you with more towels. He picked you up completely off the floor and took you out of the bathroom.

He chose to place you down on the edge of the bed, positioning himself to kneel down in front of you.

"Bucky," you whispered, voice thick, trying to pull away from him. “I think you should just leave me alone."

He stiffened. It scared him to hear you talk like this, to see you look at Bucky with such defeat in your eyes.

“No,” he said resolutely. “I'm here now, okay? I'm here, I'm not leaving, and I need you to be with me. I need you here, talking to me.”

"I can't. I can't do this anymore. Just go, please."

Bucky looked at you then. Really looked at you. The woman he loved and misunderstood for so long was now a trembling wreck in front of him, skin paper thin and trembling like a leaf. You looked so vulnerable and sad, and it made his heart twist.

Bucky suddenly held you tight against his chest, tucking his nose against the crook of your neck, and you didn't resist.

"Do you have any idea how much I hate myself? I hate myself for letting you go through this alone. I hate myself for telling you all those lies that night. I love you, I love you, I love you," Bucky said, wishing that you would see it.

“Don’t.”

“I wish you had told me. I would have helped you. You should have told me. I can’t believe you -”

You realized now that Sam must've told him the truth, and you sighed softly.

"I'm not good for you, Bucky," you whispered. "I will only ever hurt you, put you through more pain."

"I know everything now," Bucky said firmly. "No matter what happens, I will gladly endure it as long as it means we're no longer apart."

“Don’t be so stupid,” you said, anger tearing through your voice, though the tears were still falling. “I’m broken, Buck. I can’t give you a future. Please just find someone else - stay with Sharon.”

“Sharon?” If you hadn’t mentioned her name, Bucky would never have even thought about her. “No - we’re not serious, doll. She was never going to be the one.”

“No,” you insisted. “If not her, then fine, find someone else. Just not me.”

“Why aren’t you listening?” Bucky asked furiously. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Please don’t do this. I need you." He was desperate to make you see, to make you understand. It was you or nothing. "You don’t know how awful the past few years have been. I don’t want to be apart from you, please.” He was prepared to grovel at your feet and beg.

He hated himself for how easily he gave up two years ago. This time, he was not letting you leave him.

His beautiful blue eyes pleaded with you, and you felt your barricades crumble. Your arms finally moved to wrap around him, and he felt a wave of relief as he encircled you in his arms. You had missed this, the feeling of Bucky holding you so tenderly.

You didn’t know if you were making the right choice, but you wanted to give in so badly and just let yourself be selfish and enjoy what time you could have together. And now that Bucky had you back by his side, he was definitely not going to let you go.

Even if they were in pieces, at least they were together. And Bucky was positive that they could put those pieces back into a whole, as long as you gave it a chance.

"You're so stupid," you said through your tears.

"I don't think so," Bucky said, managing the smallest smile. "Just stupidly in love with you."

You wanted to stay like this forever, entangled in each others arms. He pulled back slowly to study your face, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss against your lips. He kissed you again, deeper this time, breathing you in.

“You owe me two years of kisses,” he mumbled.

You laughed softly, but it soon died. First, you had a lot of talking to do. You used the following hour to tell him the details about your illness, why you had left, how sorry you were for treating Bucky the way you did when you broke up with him.

"You're so dumb," Bucky had said, sounding furious for a moment. "You had no right to decide something like that for me. You know I would support you.”

"I know, Buck," you had interrupted. "That's exactly why I had to leave. I didn't want you to see me die, okay?"

You had looked like you were about to cry again, so Bucky stopped scolding you immediately. He would never make you cry again, he swore.

"You're here now," he said, kissing your temple. "We're together now. Everything feels...right again."

You swallowed, biting your lip. "I told you, my cancer is back and -"

"You'll get better again," he said, refusing to look at you. You knew that tears were in his eyes. "You'll get better, okay?" His voice wavered slightly.

"It's worse this time, Bucky," you said. "Look at me. I'm practically withering away."

"You'll get better," he said, clenching his teeth.

You didn't say anything, just nestled against Bucky’s chest, relishing the way he wrapped his arms securely around your frame as if you would disappear at any moment.

Maybe he was right. Maybe by some miracle, with Bucky by your side, you would be able to give him all the time in the world.

"I'll try to stick around," you whispered.

[iluvloganhowlett]

I HATE YOU PT. 2 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

in which logan runs into you once more and works things out

part 1

warnings: mostly angst, some fluff at the end, happy ending woohoo, mutant!reader

so the x-men timeline is actually fucked so i def altered it a little so ignore that😝 this is placed around x-men (2000) and X2

“y/n?” this was the last person you expected to see when trying to teach a simple class. yet here he was, right in front of your 2 eyes.

you looked as the kids began to rile up, a chorus of “hi mr. howlett!”s erupting from the group.

logan flashed them a small smile before returning his attention back to you.

he begins to step closer to you, but you stop him with a simple glare. “class you work on the takedowns we practiced last class, i need to step out for minute. no powers, okay? we need to work on that.”

once the class had gotten started, you slipped out the door and made your way down the hall to talk privately with logan.

“y/-“ “what the hell are you doing here?”

suddenly it felt like you were back at your apartment years ago; logan and some red thing at your doorstep.

“no, doll. the better question is what are you doing here?”

you pace back and forth, cracking your knuckles anxiously as you try to come up with the words to say.

“i-i’ve worked here for years? since you went missing,” you stated, your words dripping in venom as you looked logan in the eyes with a hateful look.

“logan i thought i made it clear back then that you were the last one i wanted to talk to- for a while.”

logan only shrugged and smirked, still leaning on the hallway wall, “forced proximity?”

you lunge, pressing your arm into his neck with full force, pinning him to the wall. “you’re funny,” you retort with a sarcastic smile.

“i get that a lot.”

your left hand stabs your claws into his abdomen; just like the good old days. “i get that a lot too.”

“god, logan! why the fuck are you here?!”

“i work here, sugar.”

you pull a face, as if that’s no excuse for him to show up here. “cut the bullshit, lo. what- are you stalking me?”

logan scoffs, “well, we both know i would if i wanted to.”

“what the hell?”

he only sighs, “y/n can we just work this out? please? i’m tired of following you around like a lost puppy for years.”

“so you have been following me,” you smirk.

he stutters, “alright- now y’know that’s not what i meant.”

“sure sugar,” you mock, releasing him from under your arm.

logan rolls his eyes, “do you ever drop it or…?”

“do you ever stick around?”

you watched as logan tensed at your words, looking down at the floor, and you immediately regretted it.

“look- i’m sorry for how i acted the last time you tried to come back into my life,” you sighed.

“y/n…”

“it’s just hard thinking everyday, for 9 months, that the person you love the most is dead.”

logan groaned, moving closer to you and taking your arms in his hands, “you don’t think i know that?! do you know how many times in my life that someone has taken the person i love to get through to me? i spent those 9 months wondering if you handled yourself and were still gonna be in that damn apartment when i came back,” his voice broke and you watched his eyes shift from frustrated to almost pleading.

you scoff, “yeah because i can’t handle myself.”

“you don’t know that!”

your lips curled. as much as you wanted to shoot a snarky comment about not knowing that he would come home, you could see it wasn’t a good time.

his grip loosened, “please. please y/n just give me another chance and i will tell you everything. i’ll be honest, and ill tell you where im going before i go, yeah?”

your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips, “ya promise?”

“i promise, doll, i’ll do anything you ask just plea-“

logan was cut off by your lips on his, which he gladly accepted, lifting a hand to your face and one down to your waist.

“y’know,” you began, ghosting just over his lips, “this was probably the only part of you i missed,” you joked.

“shut ya mouth,” and he did just that.

im cringing😮 i hope this is good bc i hate it🥳

taglist!!

@velvrei @spazwayy @oatmilkriver @sseleniaa @mei-simp @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesangel @realsimpbitchshit @pickuptruck01 @keigohawks @thereallchristine @zeeader @pink-jello-fish @twinky-wink @malfoys-demigod

[fluff-n-cookies]

Hello :)

Could you please do and platonic Aizawa x daughter reader?

His daughter is in her teen years so she is being like really rebel and all that so they fought a lot, but one day she just breaksdown during one fight and starts crying and apologizing for being a shitty daughter?

I have been avoiding this for so long, and it's all because I have no idea how aizawa would handle something like this. because it goes against everything that Aizawa would try and teach his kid so this may be a little forcefully written, apologies.

TW : unhealthy parenting, mental illness, some suicidal thoughts, probably angsty shit, I dunno, read at your own risk.

We can start this by walking through how this may start in the first place. I think the best place to start is that reader's mom left her and Aizawa when she was very young, and Aizawa, assuming here he didn't understand how to properly tell her why her mother left her, never tells her why.

Now reader is very young so she might blame one of two things.

herself

her father

While both instances would technically work, I think the more favorable option is she blames herself since a young child would probably never blame an adult they look up to and hold dear as the problem.

Up to this point her father has been really kind to her so the only other variable is her, this spirals into social anxiety, low self esteem, and depression. all of which don't help when you have an absent mother and a neglectful father who is both a teacher and a full time hero, which leaves little to no room for children.

(this is also why I think it isn't realistic for Aizawa to keep Eri or a child without another non-hero caretaker. Fight me, I dare you.)

As time goes on, and this child becomes a teenager, she might not know how to properly express her feeling and after being misguided by factors like the internet, other adults, and "friends" she might take out the feeling of being abandoned on her closest caretaker and another source of her problems; Aizawa.

if you purposely yell at him or start arguments it's not going to be very fun because Aizawa has this complex where if his students or other heros represent incompetence or arrogance he expels them or ignores him rather than explaining it to them and helping them improve, this is especially with students.

and since he lacks a true connection with you as his daughter mainly because of his job(s) and past with Oboro which he is still trying to heal from keeping him from bonding with you, he'll treat you as a student like the rest of the teenagers he knows. and even then, you may actually be treated worse than his students because while he interacts with them daily, he interacts with maybe 1 hour every other day.

so from all that he simply ignores you, just stops interacting with you entirely, he's too tired for your bullshit. this action makes the wedge between you two even worse.

if you keep persisting though he will yell back but it's often really short and really loud. something like "SHUT UP" a cold "I don't care." before slamming the door in your face. He knows it's probably not right to do that to your daughter but let's face it. you're just this annoying teenager he legally has to live with if he doesn't want to lose his hero and teaching license.

this is where things actually get very interesting, because let's assume he stops approaching you entirely, you just live in the same house nothing more than that, and while you may act like you hate your father for ruining your family and neglecting you all your life on the outside, remember, you're still that little kid in second grade that blames yourself for your mother leaving and your father not caring for you.

so let's say you realize this and go back to blaming yourself for everything like you did when you where a kid but since your father stopped talking to you entirely explaining your faults to him maybe difficult.

this where my personal experiences come in, I've actually had this happen to me in my own life, and I truely hope that you'll enjoy it. thank you.

---------

why is it that the voices are the loudest in the dead of night?

the moon is gone, the birds are silent, there isn't a single light that shines on your tear streaked face, puffly, swollen, sad, just sad.

years of confusion, neglect, a lack of love in it's purest form.

all because of you.

it's all because of you.

it's sings so prettily, like it's a church choir spreading the word of the lord like it's common knowledge.

it's common knowledge that you are a terrible person!

it cackles.

the urge to strangle yourself to finally feel some relief has never been stronger.

lie awake in the dead of night, in pitch darkness, a proper scenery to match ones broken and cracked soul, be careful, you might hurt yourself, again.

however, one cannot weep in their wallows forever.

the night has to make way for the morning sun.

and a relaxed self pity has to make way to dread.

dread.

dread of him, he who you blame for everything, everything you know is your fault.

it's all your fault.

a click at the door,

the creak of the old wood and the hinges never oiled.

mild thumping footsteps that wander around the apartment that can barely hold your overflowing buckets of tears.

you can mumble out all your pleas.

pleas that this is all a terrible nightmare and your real life is actually one with a kind and loving mother and a supportive and encouraging father.

mumble out the little lies that you made up all these years to make yourself feel worse and other better.

"it's pointless to keep trying."

"I wish I wasn't here."

"why can't I just be happy?"

"it's all my fault,

it's all my fault,

it's all my fault."

the thin walls don't do those in mourning justice though.

for the wind is calm, the branches don't dare to move, the owls, the bats, the sleeping heros in training downstairs don't make a peep.

for the only ones alive, awake, aware, is a man beaten down and broken by society serving as it's protector, ignoring the one in most need of protection all this time. With him is a girl. a girl that's scared, scared of her mirror image that haunts her, a girl who's cried an ocean, screamed a thousand wails of pain, a girl lost in her own heart,

"No wonder no one loves you."

you lie again.

but keen ears trained from years of work with villains hears you, for the first time, he hears you.

not the rebellious teen he's seen yell out strings of pure hatred and fiery insults like he's her own worst enemy.

it's the girl who he saw waiting on the steps to their apartment all those years ago. waiting for her mama to come back home with the promise of cupcakes.

it's the girl who never smiled for the remainder of elementary school.

it's the girl who's heart withered way that autumn evening.

he heard the softest little voice in the dead of night. he heard his daughter cry

"No wonder no one loves you."

.

.

.

"But I love you."

for that whole night, for that whole night.

the peace was disturbed.

for that whole night, it seemed that the moon shone once again.

it may not be the sun. but it'll do for now.

Aizawa walked away shortly after that.

leaving a little girls and her mirror image to ponder.

ponder.

---------

Afterwards I don't think he'd talk about it too much, he's proabably approach you after breakfast the next morning and tell you "you can talk to him about it if you want." but not much more than that

he definitely would change his practices though. like getting you a therapist, taking the weekends off in favor of being around the house more.

he'll let you get used to his presence first like one would with a cat, and one day. maybe years later, or tomorrow, you'll talk to him.

you'll tell him you love him too.

and maybe.

just maybe.

the world will stop,

and everything will be okay.

[a-soft-hornytiny]

At the office.

Summary: Yeosang, your boss’ son and biggest menace, decides that he had enough of your bullshit (aka you doing your job and telling him off) and teaches you a lesson with four small and simple words: “Get on your knees.”

Word count: 1.6k+

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Yeosang x female!reader

Warnings: public sex, humiliation, degradation, use of slut and whore, use of noona, unprotected sex, dirty talk, penetration, blow job, cum, cumming inside (let me know if I missed something) be careful while reading.

Notes: you see, yall really inspired me so here is that bunch of absolute filth. Yes its ceo’s son!yeosang and secretary!reader. Yes its semi public. Just yes. thanks so much for the idea @star1117-archives and the inspiration @seongsangsgf @sinferrer

Taglist: under the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

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

His grip on your thigh was strong and you could feel his muscles underneath you shifting. 

You didn’t even fully remember how you got into this situation. One moment you were walking through the office to copy some important documents, the other you’re sitting on his lap. Whose lap? Kang Yeosang's. 

The worst part about this? He was the son of your boss. The heir to the business you were working in. And as Mister Kang’s secretary, part of your job seemed to be keeping his son in line. Which obviously worked perfectly well. 

Yeosang had enough of being told what to do. You weren’t even much older than him and yet you ordered him around like a 5-year-old that didn’t know how to clean up his own mess. 

To be fair to you, Yeosang didn’t clean up his own mess. But not because he didn’t know how to but because he didn’t want to. He loved to see you rage and whenever you tried to give him a lecture he just sat there, completely ignoring your words and watching the way your body moved under that tight suit. 

He just couldn’t take you seriously. And even though he did feel bad about his behavior towards you sometimes, he would do everything in his power to piss his father off. 

“Noona~” He whispered into your ear while one of his hands was tracing from your waist down to your thigh. “Don’t you want to take a little break?” He smirked, blowing your hair out of your neck. Shivers ran down your spine.

“What are you doing Yeosang?” You asked firmly, trying to hide how much his actions were shattering your self control. 

“Oh nothing noona~ just helping you let go of the stress you’ve been horting.” He let out a deep breath against your neck as his hand wandered to your inner thigh and up. The short pencil skirt you were wearing didn’t help at all. And even though you knew how wrong it was, you were melting into his touch. 

The way he dressed had always made you weak. This damned tight leather wear. All those zippers in places they were not supposed to be in exposing more than enough of his skin. You knew that he was working out but the way his thigh muscles were flexing against your bottom half made you go crazy. 

“Yeosang what if someone sees us? This should not be happening.” You knew that was not the concern you should be having and Yeosang noticed immediately.

“Oh so this-“ His thump traced little circles on the inside of your upper thigh “is not the problem but the fact that someone could see us is?” You had exposed yourself.

He had pulled you into a little corner of the office that no one would randomly walk into and that was not visible from the rest of the room but there was no door between you and multiple other people in the main building. 

“Say something noona. We don’t have all day.” His voice was deep and raspy as he set gentle kisses on your skin. It was over. You had lost all authority over him. 

“You don’t listen to me anyway so why don’t you just tell me what you want.” You hissed at him, still trying to keep up your cold side.

“Oho getting cocky now are we?” He chuckled. You couldn’t suppress the moan leaving your mouth as his fingers flicked against your clit. It was still covered with fabric but the touch was intense. 

“Get on your knees.” He demanded, and you followed instantly. 

The scene in front of you was god-like. He was sitting there man spreading, the fabric of his pants stretching over the obvious tent between his legs. His shirt was tight around his chest and all the zips were open. One was revealing his strong collarbone, another his defined biceps and the ones on his side were teasing the abs that were lying underneath. 

You weren’t even done admiring his whole body when he started opening his pants.

“You are going to suck me off now and you will not make a sound.” He growled, freeing his hardening dick from its cage. You nodded. You didn’t even know what drove you to do this, to not protest. But you had thought of this before. You wanted this.

You robbed forward a bit before taking the base of his cock into your hands. 

“You’re such a whore~ always telling me to get myself together but I say one thing and your hands are wrapped around my dick.”

You wanted to say something but before you could, he had grabbed your hair and pushed you closer. If you opened your mouth now, it would be filled. 

“Come on noona, don’t make me wait now~” He murmured as his other hand softly caressed your cheek. And he didn’t have to ask twice. You opened your mouth widely and pushed forward, taking his beautiful cock into your mouth inch by inch. 

“That’s a good whore.” He let out a deep groan. 

You started bobbing your head at a steady pace, his hand in your hair still guiding you. The feeling of his dick pressing against your tongue was so satisfying it made you hum slightly. Delicious.

You ran your tongue along his whole length from the base to the tip where you slowly traced circles with it. The sounds coming from his mouth were just as heavenly as he looked.

But you wanted more. You wanted to taste his pre-cum in the back of your throat and feel him twitch in your mouth as he slowly comes closer to his high. So you took a deep breath and pushed his whole length into your mouth, only stopping as your nose hit his stomach.

“Fuck, Y/n!” He moaned, dropping the teasing nickname he had called you before, which made you realize the control you had. But somehow hearing your own name made you even more eager to continue. 

“If you continue like this, you’re gonna be filled with my cum before you even know it.” He grunted, throwing his head back.

Exactly what I was trying to do you thought before gently imitating a gulping motion. It nearly made you smile in triumph as he covered his mouth with one hand to muffle his sounds. 

You started moving your head again, picking up speed quickly.

“I- argh. Fuck Y/n, Y/n stop!” You immediately stopped your movements, feeling his pre-cum leaking into your mouth. He was breathing heavily and sweat drops were running down his forehead.

“I want to cum inside of you.” He whispered. Your eyes widened as he pushed you away and signaled you to sit down on his dick. But.. but we’re in the office. Your thoughts were going wild with what he wished for but one thought dominated all others. 

I’ve already gone so far, why not get some pleasure for myself on the way.

Yeosang was surprised when you actually got up and raised your skirt to your hips, revealing your already ruined panties. You took a step closer, swung your legs over his and pushed your panties to the side before positioning his tip at your entrance and carefully settling down. After getting comfortable on his lap, you started rocking your hips back and forth.

His head was buried in your chest and his hands were sitting on your waist, helping you move.

You had to suppress loud moans as you felt his hard dick rub against your inside. Your walls were clenching around him every time you went down, your clit touched his shaft. And after only a few thrusts you could already feel him tremble. 

His breath was getting faster and unsteady, his arms were shaking and his dick was twitching inside of you. He was about to cum. 

Suddenly you heard a voice calling your name from across the room. Fuck.

But instead of stopping, Yeosang increased the speed by pushing his hips upward. You whined quietly as his dick hit all the right places.

And then he came. You could feel his cum fill you up as his whole body started to tense up and shake uncontrollably. 

And then you heard your name being called again. Fuck.

Without hesitation you jumped up, making Yeosang whine as the cold air hit his wet dick, and pushed your skirt down. With a few reaches, you tried to fix your hair and clothes as you heard footsteps coming closer. 

“And for the last time-“ you raised your voice while shielding Yeosang from the room to give him enough time to fix himself up “I will not indulge this behavior again. This time you went too far. Expect the consequences!”

You wanted to wipe that arrogant smirk out of his face as he was listening to your ‘for show’ rant. He didn't make you cum and he was going to regret that. Revenge was coming.

But then your coworker stepped around the corner.

“Oh Y/n, there you are. I was wondering if you could help me with some of the documents I told you about earlier! Only if you have time though…” 

You took a deep breath before turning around. “Oh I have plenty of time. This young gentleman knows exactly what he has done.” You said, walking towards them. Before reaching the corner they whispered into your ear.

“What did he do this time?” They asked and you simply sighed, walking away with them while Yeosang’s cum was leaking into your panties. 

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

Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives

[banamine-bananime]

one thing that always perplexes me is how often i see takes on tucker where the work positions him as a great dad*, fluent in sangheili language and culture, and most of all, a great diplomat.

i'm not here to yuck anyone's yum and i, too, am absolutely transfixed and enraptured by this man's oscillation between "my one purpose in life is to constantly test the human limits of Annoyingness" and "sudden, shocking extreme competence with no warning" like a little Newton's cradle. like, i just spent 7000 words indulging myself in thinking about a version of tucker that listens a lot more to the "do whatever you gotta to protect the people you love and do what you think is right regardless of what people think" cartoon angel on his shoulder and less to the "that sounds hard i just wanna mouth off, jerk off, fuck off, and negg church" devil. i cannot throw stones and clearly i think that's a fun and valid interpretation of how his character could evolve. but evolve is the keyword there and it baffles me when this gets treated as the fact of how he immediately snapped into being as soon as he had junior, you know?

like. obviously tucker ended up doing some massively impressive shit as an ambassador in sandtrap. but that's because he wasn't being an ambassador, he was being The Final Girl in il/ct's slasher flick. getting trapped in a beseiged temple is, traghilariously, the best thing that could have happened for him in terms of being good at that job. if tucker were a pathfinder character he would have 18s in "dealing with your life suddenly being taken over by ancient alien religion bullshit", "surviving crazy shit through sheer spite and the adrenaline rush of pissing off whatever asshole has made it their life's mission to kill you this time", and "being the only person who knows what fucked up shit is going on while the rest of the bgc ignore you". he would have a 2 in "saying things that make people want to kill you LESS". de-escalation is not in this man's skillset. he cannot even handle being normal about human women. appreciating the intricacies of sangheili culture and politics, human culture and politics, and sangheili-human relations?

Tucker: People learn English all the time, it aren't that hard.

Church: Maybe you should try learning his language.

Tucker: Fuck that, we got here first, and that makes this a colony. Those're the rules, dude. Earth colony, Earth language.

Church: Tucker there's thousands of languages spoken on Earth.

Tucker: Hyeah, but only one that kicks ass. And that's the one we're teaching. English 101, remedial kick-ass.

i know this is pre-junior and doubtlessly, he is more interested in this stuff after junior (because junior's life does depend on sangheili politics and human-alien relations) and MUST be less dense about it after HAVING to do it as a job. like by osmosis at the very least something must have permeated his brain. but the gap between this^ and "knowledgeable enough to be an asset in this career, one people need at least one relevant degree for" is, uh, bigger than a few months between leaving blood gulch and being sent out to the field

sometimes i think about what a fucking trip it would be to be on the UNSC diplomatic team with tucker LMAO can you imagine how unpopular he must have been. a bunch of polisci and IR nerds like fists clenched shaking like leaves trying to restrain the urge to give this guy a swirlie because he cannot stop sounding like a fucking family guy episode while you're trying to, like, convince the warrior queen of some isolated Sangheili heretical sect to ally with the Swords of Sangheilios and the species they've been dead set on annihlating for decades. and also you know he's only an ambassador as like the weirdest most fucked up variation of a nepo baby. nepo forced interspecies religious incubator. the token chestburster virgin mary hire. the simultaneous Hatred for this guy making your job hell, the impotent rage of knowing that it is, actually, important that he be there for Symbolic reasons, and feeling sympathetic to him. you know part of why he's Like This is literally just because he's 20 and should be at the club but has had the year from hell and didn't ask for this. it's easy to forget that because he doesn't complain about any of the actually bad things that happened and just rolls with whatever crazy shit comes his way. complaining is reserved for being an annoying little bitch about petty shit.

ANYWAYS i'm not saying stop having fun with very competent versions of tucker. we're all just here to have fun. i just like what a weird combo of competent and disaster he is, as i interpret him, and i, personally, am incapable of interpreting him as being actually very good at his job as ambassador

*the only two options are not "bad dad" and "great dad". having an alien parasite non-consensually implanted in you by a manipulative fraudster to force his own involvement in a prophecy - oh and also their species is trying to exterminate yours - and going, "well, this baby didn't choose this, they're just a baby, and you know what? my baby. i love this baby unreservedly and unconditionally, fuck you." shows a capacity for love and forgiveness that's frankly fucking insane, both in the good-impressive way and the what-is-going-on-in-your-brain-and-how-did-this-kind-of-decision-making-not-get-you-killed-yet way. and tucker very clearly loves junior a lot and does his best - which, i want to reiterate, is absolutely wild considering the circumstances - but he wasn't ready for a kid, is bad at accepting responsibility especially for others, and the way that Things Never Stop Happening in his life mean he is really not very present. and it's not JUST because of things happening outside of his control - there were periods after season 8 and after season 13 he probably could have permanently reunited with junior and didn't.

[mediocre-writerr]

love quinn x fem!reader where reader celebrates valentine’s day with love like she baked and prepared dinner just like love had taught her before and reader paid attention to make this day special for her. everything is a surprise btw but as we know love she was starting to freak out a bit thinking reader is being distant and secretive but all turned out well. anyways lots of fluff ���

-🎈

banana pancakes [love quinn]

love quinn x fem!reader

warnings: a few curse words

mediocre author's note: hey guys! happy belated valentine's day, hope it was full of love in all different forms. love you guys!

Your location was off…why was your location off? Your location was never off. Love swiped out the app, only to re enter it seconds later. It had to be some kind of tech issue right? Your location wasn’t actually off…right? Wrong. Sure enough your location was still off. 

Love let out a huff, as she shut off her phone, throwing it onto the metal counter in the kitchen of Anavrin. The brunette closed her eyes, resting her head on the cool metal door of the fridge, as she took deep breaths. ‘I trust her’ she repeats to herself over and over in her head, like a troubled school child writing ‘I’m sorry’ on their paper repeatedly. It was odd to her. It was Valentine’s Day, the day of love, and you were completely ignoring her. Only sending a ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ text to start off her morning. 

Everything seemed fine then, so what changed? 

You were stressed, like really stressed. It was your first actual Valentine’s Day with someone you truly love. You wanted to make something perfect for the first time. The only problem? You can’t cook to save your life, despite Love teaching you her favorite recipes. 

“Oh for fucks sake!” You yell, opening your apartment door to let all the smoke out of your house before you set off the fire alarm. You take a deep breath, resting your head against the cool metal rail, as you try to get your shit together. This needs to be perfect. Everything needs to be perfect. 

Your head snaps up, as someone’s voice calls your attention. “Hey Gordon Ramsey, I see cooking is going super well for you. A solid five Michelin Stars!” your sometimes favorite 15 year old teases from right next to you. 

“Not now, Ellie. I keep fucking up the recipe and Love gets off work in like 3 hours and nothing is ready,” you vent to the brunette, as you begin to pace the small pathway between apartments. 

She rolls her eyes at you, “Dude, chill out. You’re stressing out about this way too much.”

“I’m sorry, I just want everything to be perfect.”

“And that’s the problem,” she shows herself into your apartment. 

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “Sure Ellie, you can come in,” you say before mocking her voice. “Oh gee thanks Y/N. You’re the best.” 

You follow in after her, a fearful expression on her face as she looks at the steak you attempted to cook. The entire piece burnt to a crisp, she cuts into it, nibbling a tiny piece out of the corner. Her mouth immediately opens, dropping the tiny piece onto the dirty counter. “I didn’t think anyone could be this bad at cooking,” she admits, grabbing a glass of water to wash down the taste. “Like, I actually think you used sugar to season the steak and not salt.”

“Ellie, if you’re just gonna sit here and tell me how shit I am, you can just leave. I already know all of that,” you swing the front door open, gesturing for her to leave.

“Oh stop that ‘poor me’ bullshit,” she tells you, causing your eyebrows to furrow at her sudden tone. “This is why nothing is working out. You’re trying to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be perfect. For some odd reason that I don’t understand, Love is madly in love with you, and no amount of shit steak can change that. So shut the fuck up and just stop trying so hard!” 

Then it all clicks in your head. One of your first dates, she mentioned the simplicity, yet perfect bite of roasted chicken. Nothing too extravagant or special, but a dish that is strong with flavor, yet still feels like it's made by someone who cares. You snap your fingers together, “That’s it, Ellie! You’re a genius! C’mon, we gotta stop at the store!” 

“We?” 

You smile at her, a cockiness written all over it, “Yes we, you just got hired to be my sous chef,” you grabbed your keys, immediately ushering her out of the apartment, and to your car. 

“Oh fuck me,” she mumbled. 

Cooking for Love was supposed to be therapeutic, a way to ease her mind. Unfortunately, for the vegetables she’s cutting right now, it means that they’re receiving a brutal chop. Especially since you left her text message on read, asking what your plans were for tonight. 

A low whistle fills the kitchen as Forty walks in, eyeing his twin, “What did those poor poor celeries do to you?” She shot him a glare without another response, causing him to nod, “Don’t want to talk about it, got it. Let’s talk about something else then. What did Y/N get you for Valentine’s Day? I know she’s got her gift-giving science down to perfection. I told her multiple times to start a business doing that, I’d invest in it, she would make some serious money! I mean can you imagine all the lousy excuses for husbands going to her to buy a gift for their-” 

Forty was abruptly cut off when Love’s knife slammed down onto the metal counter. His eyes wide as he stared at his fuming sister, “It’s 8, I’m off now. I’ll see you later,” she responded in a monotone voice, storming out towards her car with one destination in mind. Your apartment. Whether you were home or not, she’ll let herself in and wait for her, so you could explain yourself to her. 

“God, I hate that you dragged me into this,” Ellie speaks up, through the soft music playing from your speaker. She wiped down the counter, as you set the table with cheesy decorations. 

You shrugged, smirking at her, “If I remember correctly, you butt in yourself. I think it was something about a five Michelin Star rating?” 

She was about to retort when your front door burst open and a seething Love stepped foot into your apartment. You and Ellie stood there wide eyed, not quite sure what happened to make the sometimes intimidating brunette mad. The two of you were bracing yourself for the burst of anger, but it never came. The girl’s frown slowly turned upward into a soft smile. 

“Surprise?” You said, smiling sheepishly at her. You interlock your fingers together, guiding her to her seat at the table. “I made some roasted chicken, and I know you could tell a lot about a chef by their roasted chicken. I just want to say, my roasted chicken will probably tell you I’m a shit chef. But uh, I tried to follow it exactly like you make it, with the potatoes and carrots and reduction, whatever that is. You’ve made it a few times, so I tried to copy from memory.”

Love smiled softly, as you pulled out her chair. “I was trying to make everything perfect, you know? I mean I even turned off my location to go to your favorite donut shop, but they were sold within like ten minutes of opening, and as soon as I got to the front of the line they were closing. So, that threw out the idea of surprising you at work. I almost set fire to my apartment a few times. But I think it turned out okay,” you drift over towards the kitchen, nervously rambling, as you pull out a small little plate of banana pancakes. “I know these aren’t super fancy pastries that you usually bake, but I remember you telling me that you and Forty would make these all the time when your mom was on this no sugar kick. You said it used to be your favorite breakfast and dessert when your were younger, so-” 

You’re immediately cut off when Love grabs the hem of your shirt, attaching her lips deeply onto yours. Your hands fly to the back of her neck, fingers lacing into her hair.

“I’m gonna throw up,” Ellie says, blowing her cheeks up to mock the vomit. The two of you back away from each other, chuckling. 

You let go of Love, walking over towards the kitchen to find a few small plastic containers. You start packing some food into the containers, before handing it to Ellie, “Thank you my sous chef. It was lovely working with you,” you chuckle as she rolls her eyes, trying to fight off a small smile on her face. “I packed enough for both you and Deliliah. Thank you again, really.” 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all sappy on me, Chef Ramsey,” she takes the containers from you gratefully, as she bids a goodnight to Love. 

“I love you Ellie!” You exclaim before she leaves. She raises her middle finger towards you without another response. You turn back to Love with a wide smile, “That means she loves me.”

Love chuckles, shaking her head, at your goofy antics with the young girl. “Sure it does,” a fake pout crosses your face as you stand in front of her with your arms crossed. Her hands find your waist pulling you to sit in her lap, “It’s okay though because I love you. Very very much…this was really thoughtful of you Y/N, really.” 

You smile softly, kissing her gently, “I love you more,” you cut a piece of the chicken, giving her a piece with skin, potatoes, carrots, and dipped into the reduction. Just like how she would always tell you to eat it, “Here, try.” 

You watched in her anticipation, biting your bottom lip. Her eyes were neutral as she chewed on what she usually calls the perfect bite. 

“So?” You ask as she finishes chewing. 

A wide smile spreads across her face, nodding, “It’s perfect. You are perfect.” 

[keouil]

root yourselves beside me

yaga finds out the hard way his third years have no concept of boundaries. 4k. gojo/shoko/getou. fluff. also on ao3.

It starts with someone getting sick in class.

"So like I was saying last week," Yaga gestures to the blackboard containing a small-scale map of downtown Tokyo. Sniffle. "There are still some areas in Nippori and Mejiro prone to winter curses, no matter how outdated they’ve become in this century." Sniffle. "It mostly has to do with the rapid temperature drops and most of the area being residential condos, meaning a younger workforce," Sniffle. "But generally speaking, jujutsu sorcerers are disposed every December to do an annual cleaning of the—" 

A sneeze.

"Oh my god, Shoko! Are you trying to inhale the entire room?" Gojo snaps at the same time Getou turns to her and asks, "Are you feeling okay?"

They exchange looks. Gojo only barely manages to dodge the smack to his head.

Yaga didn't mind his students, maybe even tolerated them from time to time. He'll admit he wasn't necessarily jumping for joy when the school board delivered the student packet to his office a month before orientation day, frowning at the familiar last name and worrying over the two that weren't. Tokyo rarely took in female sorcerers, most of them fleeing to Kyoto the moment their cursed energy manifested in favor of a kinder teaching environment. Tokyo always lost the betting pool on taking in clan kids, Kyoto and Hokkaido making a strong case for their traditional curriculumn fitting them more.

Their test scores were all over the place too—a mix of highs and lows—not to mention the disproportionate level of raw cursed energy within all three of them and the almost unnatural way they wielded it. A six eyes user, a cursed spirit manipulator, and a reversed curse technique healer. Safe to say they were an unpredictable bunch, and Yaga was the one tasked to soldier them down into a passable team.

Only at the rate they were going, it was highly unlikely.

Shoko sniffles again. "Shutupgojo," she tries to say, only to slur the words because of how muffled her voice sounds. "m' sick, yu idot." 

"Is that the same cold going around the school?" Getou asks, brows furrowed in concern. "Nanami called in sick last week. I had to take over his mission."

"It is flu season right now," Yaga remarks, not bothering to scold them for interrupting him for the nth time. Instead he gestures to the three of them in warning. "And sorcerers or not, your third year is the most brutal. So make sure not to catch anything."

Shoko sneezes again, looking the most miserable and scrawny they've seen her.

Gojo turned to look at her then. "Why don't you just heal yourself?"

Shoko just sniffles some more, looking pointedly—if not a little accusingly—at Yaga.

"We're still studying her technique," Yaga says lowly, suddenly all too busy with himself and the blackboard and making a pointed attempt to ignore Gojo and Getou boring holes down his back. "It's—ah—well, we don't get an RCT user very often."

"And so?" Gojo prompts. "What's that got to do with her healing herself?"

"She is right here," Shoko mumbles, wiping her nose with the tissue Getou passed her. Sniffling, she adds tiredly, like she's already made bed with it, "They just don't want any unauthorized use of the RCT if they can help it."

Gojo scoffs. "Well that's bullshit," he's already waving his hand around and bringing her chair closer. "Shoko, I'll heal you myself."

Now it was Yaga's time to smack him over the head.

"You can't even heal a bug yet!" Yaga waves at finger at him threateningly. "Let alone heal your own bruises. Like I said, RCT is an extremely polished technique that needs the utmost concentration and control. If even Shoko can't get it right just yet, there's no way you're allowed to even try healing Megumi's skinned knees."

Gojo pouts. "But—"

Getou faces him. "Yaga-sensei is right, Satoru," he placates. "If we can't understand Shoko's technique and get in under control, there's no telling what you could do with yours. You could do more harm than good."

Shoko let her head fall on the desk, groaning and making incoherent sounds of death. They think they can hear her murmuring something along the lines of feeling like death, until she says exactly, "I feel like death."

Getou inches his chair closer. "Do you want anything?"

Yaga notes the sincereness in his tone and has to school his expression into something more neutral. That’s… new. He knows the third years had gotten somewhat acquainted ever since the Okinawa incident, always insisting on doing group missions then and almost never letting anyone—juniors included, much to Nanami’s chagrin—go out alone and without a buddy system. He had to reason with the higher-ups that they'd probably just felt shaken somehow, and to give him as much grace period as possible until he felt they were ready to get back into the swing of things.

It's easy to forget, Yaga thinks when he looks at Getou rubbing a consoling hand on Shoko's back and Gojo trying to peek out from under where her head was buried in her arms: how young they were. 

If he had to come up with however many bullshit lesson plans he had to make to justify the in-person classes in lieu of field work, Yaga didn't mind staying up late every night to catch up with.

And when he sees Gojo and Getou getting into another ill-timed bet on who can make Shoko laugh first, Yaga notes, maybe it's all worth it in the end.

All for the good of the team.

-

Taking the Tokyo Metropolitan Subway is a mandatory rite of passage for any student in Jujutsu Tech.

Yaga insisted they use public transport as much as possible, arguing about its unrivalled efficiency in getting to places faster than any chartered car ever could no matter it’s convenience. Navigating the subway and monorails took some getting used to, but once mastered, any self-proclaimed Tokyo-ite should be able to walk the bustling Asakusa station with their eyes closed. 

Only Yaga didn't trust the third years not to push each other on the rails for whatever immature reason they came up with on the spot. They were all temperamental and teenagers like that. 

Enter Ijichi.

"Um," Ijichi starts, looking around the busy station and fidgeting with the straps of his bag. It was more packed than usual for a Tuesday afternoon. "Don't you already have a PASMO card, Getou-san?"

Getou glances at him briefly. "I do," he holds up the familiar pink commuter pass, before gesturing to Gojo behind him, who was trying to drag Shoko into a tanghulu stall. "But Satoru doesn't. And he doesn't know how these machines work, either, so."

When they arrived at the station a few minutes ago, it was glaringly obvious just how much of a sheltered life Gojo had lived. Ijichi tried his best not to let the incredulousness on his face show out of respect. It was hard not to, though, when Gojo really did not know shit about anything: the queues, top-ups, line transfers, etc. Ijichi's almost entirely sure he saw smoke coming out of Shoko's ears when he proudly declared never having been on a train in his life and why should he even get a commuter pass when he has a chauffeur. Getou only just about stopped her from slicing him in half in the nick of time.

Now they were queueing up to get a one-way ticket for Gojo on the shinkansen. His senior who should have been listening and taking notes and maybe learning a thing or two about commuting in the busiest area of Japan. But instead, he's dragging Shoko from one confectionary shop to another, buying every hypoglycemic pastry he can find and forcing her to tell him which one she likes.

"Suguruuu," Gojo whined in a high voice when they came back, arms full of take-out bags. "I wasn’t sure which one you liked, and Shoko was being a brat and wouldn't tell me, so I got you one of everything! You too, Ijichi!"

Ijichi expected Getou to chastise him for the waste of money, time, resources, his patience, etc. But instead is surprised when Getou just looks up from the machine and gives him a small smile. 

"Thank you, Satoru."

Gojo's grin only grew wider. "Not a problem!"

Getou turned back to the ticket machine and double-checked the train times. Only Ijichi noticed something was slightly off. He wasn't as focused as last time, now that he'd secured the ticket and was waiting for the machine to dispense it. He had one eye on the screen, while the other kept glancing at his side, at Shoko who was inching closer to the ticket gates. She doesn't get a few steps in before Getou nods his head firmly in her direction.

"She's doing it again," Getou warns. "Gojo, grab her."

Gojo didn't have to be told twice. "Gladly," He reaches out and catches Shoko just as she was about to scurry away, trapping her in a back-hug that rendered her completely immobile. Gojo rested his chin on the top of her head and sighed dramatically. "Always like this with you. Like clockwork."

Ijichi must've looked as confused as he felt, because Getou turned to regard him with mild amusement.

"Shoko has this rather annoying habit of going straight for the female-only train," Getou explains, turning back to exit out of the machine portal. "Completely understandable, of course. But it's annoying when we get off at the station and can't find each other right away." 

"Yeah, Shoko, what's that about?" Gojo looks down on her. "You worried about perverts on the train or something?"

Shoko tries to shove his arm off. "I'm a sixteen-year old girl living in Tokyo," she hisses. "Of course I'm worried about being groped on the train."

"Like we'd ever let that happen," Getou mutters under his breath, and Ijichi notes, with a tone of annoyance. They must've had this conversation before. Fishing the loose change from the machine, he stands up and flicks her forehead playfully. "How many times do I have to say it? You're safe with us."

"Don't worry," Gojo winks down at her. "We're the strongest."

"Please come up with a new catchphrase," Shoko elbows him on the side. "It's getting old."

The train ride back to school is.. something.

True to their word, Gojo and Getou immediately planted themselves in between either side of Shoko, to her obvious and verbal dismay. Grab my ass one more time, Gojo, and you won't have a hand to jerk off with next time. Ijichi stood by their side, hands clasped firmly around his backpack and looking up at them in thinly veiled awe. They stood so tall and imposing and just.. grand. It was even more obvious mixed in with the corporate slaves, nondescript suits and heels doing nothing but emphasizing the undeniable.

It's moments like that where Ijichi is reminded how some people were just born for this:taking the local train home but somehow still looking like they weren't cut from the same cloth as everyone else. Gojo and Getou nearly always turning heads where they went and Shoko so effortlessly exuding the very embodiment of a cool girl.

Gojo turned to him from time to time, making sure he wasn't suddenly being crushed into the rush hour crowd of Asakusa. "You good there, Ijichi-kun?"

"Y-yes," Ijichi stammered gratefully in return. "All good, Gojo-san. T-thank you."

Getou tried not to let it show, but Ijichi saw the subtle looks he kept throwing at anyone who so much as inched within five metres of their space. Gojo was busy chatting Shoko up and talking about his latest progress in Zelda, hands going a mile a minute demonstrating his different battle strategies. Shoko rolled her eyes but Ijichi heard her indulgent follow-up questions. 

Every time the train hit a bump, he saw Gojo and Getou instinctively reach out to steady Shoko. She glared at Getou's hand on her back. 

"Off."

"No," Getou insisted, but the conviction in his voice didn't feel as strong as it usually did. He must not be used to saying that to her. "Unless you want to start actually holding on to the railing this time?" 

Shoko grimaced. "Do you know how many bacteria are passed on to those things every day?" she points to the handle on top of her. "And you want me to subject myself to that?"

"Exactly," Getou looked at her knowingly.

Shoko huffed, crossing her arms and staring straight ahead in defiance. She hears Gojo chuckling by her side, shutting up when she shoots a glare his way. 

"Then just this once."

Ijichi shuddered at the thought of crossing any of them. He wasn’t an undeniable, and when he sees the kind of attention they attract on this random nondescript day he was tailing them, decides he doesn’t want to. 

The text message Ijichi shoots Yaga as they find their way to the school is riddled with so much question marks and asking—nearly begging—him not to shadow his seniors ever again, ending it with only the vaguest alludement to a possiblequestionablemaybe homoerotic dynamic between them. 

Yaga sees the last line of the text and deletes it just as fast as it came.

-

"Whose jacket is that?" Yaga asks.

They're in the morgue for Shoko's private lesson. Reverse Curse Technique users only spawn once every few generations, if at all, and so the higher-ups were on his back to train Shoko to be the most competent she can be. If only she wasn’t wearing an oversized uniform that was nearly drowning her.

"I'm not sure," Shoko looks down. "We all share clothes."

Yaga pauses. "Why?"

"Makes it easier on laundry day," Shoko shrugs, reading over the medical textbook.

Yaga eyes the length of the uniform. It had to be at least five sizes larger than her usual. 

"But don’t you guys do separate days?" Yaga inquires.

Shoko held up a hand. "Hold on, sensei," she reaches behind her and feels around for the name tag stitched into every student's uniform, tugging it out to read it. "It's Gojo's. Makes sense. I already found at least five candy wrappers just in his front pocket alone."

"Do you need more uniform sets?" Yaga asks, laying out the gauze pads and alcohol. A body ripe for examination lay before them. "I thought we gave you enough during the summer."

"I have enough," Shoko answers, picking up a cavity injector and turning it over in her hand. "But they just aren't as warm."

Yaga opened his mouth to clarify, before a loud clang of metal on metal alerted them of another presence in the clinic. Yaga already felt them before they even made a noise, hovering just outside the door for half an hour. Really, he should commend them for being able to hold out that long.

"Oi, you two," he calls out tiredly, not even bothering to look up from the body on the table. "Come out now."

The doors to the morgue creak open slowly, hesitant footsteps pattering in. Shoko took one look at the intruders and was already reaching for something pointy to throw at them.

"Not this again," Shoko curses under her breath, curling her fingers on a particularly sharp-looking scalpel and aiming it their way. "I said no intruding on private lessons!"

Getou missed being skewered by half a margin. "A dart scalpel again? Really, Shoko? It's getting old." He parrots back to her, holding his hands up in surrender when she picked up a needle. The silver glinted under the fluorescent lights. "We just wanted to make sure—"

"Oi!" Gojo interrupts them both, going straight for Shoko and Yaga. "You can't just casually say you’re going to excavate a transfigured human over breakfast and walk away just like that! Like what does that even mean?

Shoko directs a glare his way. "It means exactly what it means, idiot."

"Don’t call me an idiot!" Gojo flares, gesturing to the decaying corpse and turning to face Yaga. "Yaga-sensei! Are you sure she can do this?"

"Excuse me?!" Shoko bristles, standing up and directing the needle at him. "What did you just say?!"

"Shoko," Getou starts, softly at first, well-timed caution clinging to his voice. "You barely eat at the cafeteria because you don't know where the meat comes from. You won't touch anything on the train. Utahime has to beg us to take you out into the city every now and then. Are you sure you can be around all this blood?"

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't just somehow patronize and doubt my competency as a medic at the same time," Shoko breathes once, twice. "And ask you guys again, while I still have all shreds of my patience, to kindly fuck off."

Gojo plays with some of the tools in the shed. "Honestly we really would," he accidentally nicks himself on a lancet and drops it, metal on metal vibrating against the sterile room. Shoko winces at the sound. "But if this is anything like last time and Yaga had to call us in the middle of the night because you fainted in the morgue, why not just save everyone the time and crash now?"

Getou smacks a palm down his forehead. "Satoru, that's not—"

But Shoko was already on her heel, making a beeline towards him with nothing but female rage and the sharp end of a surgeon's knife. "Say that one more time pretty boy—"

"Oi, you three."

Gojo only narrowly avoids being sliced in half by the equally menacing timbre of Yaga's voice. Getou snaps to attention right away. Shoko is still looming close over Gojo, who looked like he shrunk about a foot shorter and was now clinging and petting her hair. Yaga felt like putting a stop to whatever this was growing into. The third years had this rather annoying habit of talking over each other and overpowering whichever conversation they were having, and it wouldn't do to become a habit.

No team of his was going to be this disorganized.

"Yes, sensei?"

Getou. Really, at least he had one kid who had a good head on his shoulders. 

"Are you guys done?"

Shoko at least had the decency to put the knife down and look sheepish, Gojo snuggling up to her closer in return. Getou smartly shut his mouth.

"You know for someone so concerned with hygiene," Gojo tugs at the neck of his uniform, trying to fashion it into a hood on Shoko. She slaps his hand away. "You wear my clothes a lot."

Getou coughs in the back of his hand. "Like you don't wear mine."

And then Yaga could only look on in horror as all three of them monopolized the conversation again, idle comments morphing into on a full-on debate about the etiquettes of clothes sharing and the potential hygiene crisis it might cause. Somehow, someway, the conversation morphed into culprit blaming of who was in charge of which chore on which days and really, gojo, that clan kid excuse will only get you so far.

It ends with Gojo all but picking Shoko up from the stool and hoisting her over his shoulder, her protests be damned. Getou just smiles at Yaga patiently, like this was the most normal thing in the world and his students had absolutely no regard for boundaries whatsoever.

"Gojo," Shoko warns in a low voice. "Remember what I said about grabbing me again and not having a hand to jerk yourself off with if you did?"

Gojo only smacks her behind playfully. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours, babe."

The door closes with Yaga's jaw permanently drilled into the floor.

-

"Shoko, do you have another cigarette?" 

This is the first thing Getou says as he opens the door, eyeing the one on Shoko's lips. Yaga really, really discouraged his students to take on vices that were detrimental to their health and competency as sorcerers, but God knows trying to tell Shoko to do anything was like arguing with a brick wall. Gojo failed multiple times but kept trying. Getou was smart enough not even to attempt.

But Yaga knows Shoko at least held some semblance of begrudging respect for him, as their principal and the only authority figure in her life who was capable of signing off on her admission papers to her coveted medical school, and so tempers down to at least one stick in his presence. 

It's why he keeps her in the morgue half the time, no-smoking rule strictly enforced. 

He knows it's more a solitary thing for her to do, the smoking; and so when Shoko does that thing and tries sneaking away to smoke one out, all three of them are already standing up and following her. 

Shoko blows out a puff. "Nope. This is my last."

"Give it to me then." 

Getou stalks closer, stopping just a hair's breadth away from her. Ringlets of smoke marry with the air, Getou breathing it all in and not once breaking eye contact with her. He nods again at the cig on her lips. 

“Can I?”

Yaga observes them closely. Shoko wasn't known to be someone exceptionally affectionate. Of the three of them, she was the only one who probably valued—and encouraged—that line of demarcation the most. He's almost entirely sure a beating is coming for Getou to be so all up in her space without warning. Even Gojo is looking at both of them patiently.

And so it came as a complete shock to Yaga, then, when he sees Shoko slowly get up on her tiptoes and stop just an inch away from Getou's lips. They were so close it looked almost like they were—

"Oi," Gojo snaps his fingers at them, sulking. "None of that."

Shoko just smirks into the cigarette, before pulling it out and placing it directly in Getou's mouth. The same cigarette. Then she winks at Gojo when she lowers herself back down. Gojo immediately intrudes and gestures wildly at the offensive cigarette, protesting the indirect kiss they just shared and none of you would even give me a peck on valentines day. Yaga glances at Getou and notices nothing but amusement—maybe even a little pride—playing in his eyes. 

My god, Yaga looks on in horror, He actually enjoyed it.

"And you," Gojo spun on his heel, facing Getou who looked far too satisfied polluting the air. "Enough with the smoking. It's hard enough we have one chain smoker in this relationship, do you have to be the second?"

Yaga very nearly throws himself off the rooftop. 

Jesus Christ.

-

Yaga finds out the hard way his third years have no concept of personal space.

The signs came easier for him now that he can brace himself for it: Gojo constantly needing to have some part of his body surgically attached to one of theirs, Nanami telling him he overheard Shoko in Getou's room early in the morning, Getou's almost constant protectiveness over them both. 

But it's not until he visits the dorm, rather, that Yaga gets the most brutal awakening. 

For safety purposes, the female and male dormitories were separated into different buildings. There's enough scare of cursed spirits to go around, and the school really didn't need the extra headache of trying to contain hormonal teenagers with growing bodies and temperamental outbursts in one area. It was better this way. 

It took two semesters into their first year for the complaints to start.

"But sensei," Gojo says in class one day, when Yaga is busy drawing figures on the blackboard for their upcoming lecture on oni and Gojo is impatient. "Isn't it more dangerous for her to stay in that building all alone?"

Shoko twists the soft flesh on his elbow. "Again, she is right here!"

Getou is no help. "I agree with Satoru," he admits, already rummaging through his bag for a pain-relieving patch. "There's like 6 of us in total here, Shoko. It's safer if we all stick together."

"Oh shut up, you two," Shoko snaps, glaring at them both. "You just want me in the bedroom next to you so someone's there to bail you out when you guys break curfew."

Gojo's eye twitches. Getou has a vein in his forehead threatening to pop.

Yaga turns around slowly, so painfully slow, that it seemed almost an eternity passed by the time he levels both of them with a look that communicated barely restrained patience. 

"You what."

Shoko leans back further into her chair, smirking. She was looking too pleased for their comfort. Gojo had half the mind to tip her chair back if only he wasn't sure Getou would tip his for even thinking of doing it.

Yaga looks at them coldly. "Someone explain right now."

So that was that. Gojo dropped the idea and Getou stopped insisting on moving her into their dorms, Shoko reasoning that she much prefers a break from all the "testosterone" and "masculinity" she's already being subjected to every single day. Yaga's sure he's seen both of them walk out of the female dormitory building well after midnight more often than not, but let it be because good companionship always bred good teamwork. They were being trained as a three-man cell after all, and far be it for him to get in the way.

Or so Yaga thought.

Yaga rounds the corner into the common area of the male dormitory, mission packets at hand to distribute to Gojo and Getou, when he hears a distinctly female voice coming out of Getou's room.

Laughter. Giggling. And maybe even—

"What the hell is going on here?"

Yaga forces the door open, bracing himself for the worst.

Gojo was lying on his stomach all over Getou's bed, too-long-limbs falling off and taking up more than half the bed. He had his head buried in Shoko’s middle, hands wrapped around her waist. She was busy flipping the pages of a book on Getou’s bedside table, judging by the archaic cover. Getou was on the floor, arranging bags of take-out food.

Getou is the first to spring into action. “Yaga-sensei!”

"It's not curfew yet!" Gojo bristled right away, leaping from the bed and pointing to the clock. "It's only 7PM!"

"I know that, Satoru." Yaga eyes them cautiously. "I mean.” He takes a calming breath. “What is all this stuff? "

"This stuff?" Gojo looks down at the discarded clothing on the floor, looking far too relaxed at the prospect of multiple undergarments haphazardly thrown about and Yaga is so scared to confirm if any one of them belonged to Shoko. "They're clothes."

Getou swears under his breath. "No shit, sherlock."

Yaga counts to three in his head. "I'm only gonna ask this once,” he breathes out. “But what is Shoko doing here?"

"She's helping us choose outfits for our date tomorrow," Getou replies casually.

Yaga deflates. Oh. That he knew. "I see—"

"Have you made the booking, by the way?" Shoko finally says, reaching for Gojo's phone and bringing it up to his face to unlock it. "We need to let them know we’re a party of 3."

"T-three of you?" Yaga stutters.

"Yes, sensei," Gojo looks at him unsurely. "Didn't we tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Yaga shrieks. 

Gojo loops his arms around Getou and Shoko, grinning. 

"We're finally official now."

[amplexadversary]

Okay I've gleefully derailed posts before but this is a big derail and kind of dumb so I'm linking it.

When I watch the linked video, I end up thinking of Allenby gossiping about the shuffles, and now I need to headcanon who would likely say what bullshit.

-"I'm going to shit your pants." -> I could see this coming from a few people. Sai is a little fucker, he would make this threat and mean it. Chibodee would say it facetiously. Domon (while I headcanon him to be pretty good with languages) probably isn't above a gaffe where he means to say "I'm going to make you shit your pants," but misspeaks (probably when the guys are getting really rowdy and distracting and everybody's talking over each other.)

-"A duck the size of a tiger would have to be quite stout, I don't know that I could vanquish such a foe." -> George, though he'd choose different words than the video.

-"I'm all wet because Allenby dropped her phone in the river and I jumped in to get it. I can't find it though, can somebody call it while my head is underwater?" -> Domon would do this reflexively. Chibodee probably would as well.

-"I think it's time I come clean, I don't actually understand how wind works." -> Sai would be the funniest person to admit this, with his wind-based super move.

-"toodaloo, kangaroos" -> Domon, because someone told him it's a thing people say in English and he's kind of gullible.

-"Why the hell do we all have identical jackets? I can never find mine. Oh, but it's probably the one with my name on it though." -> while Domon or Chibodee would probably be the most likely to have this kind of brain fart, I think it's funnier if a very tired George says this (... ignore they fact that they don't have matching anything).

-On Monday Sai dared me to eat a spider, so I did. But then later that day I was running up the hill and shit my pants a little. I think those two things were related. -> I'd believe this from three of them in different contexts. Chibodee impulsively agreed to the challenge and admits this because hes mad about it. Argo ate the spider to humor Sai and is trying to discourage the rest of the group from making a similar mistake. Domon ate the spider because Kyoji didnt not have nearly enough chances to teach Domon to be weary of this exact kind of siblingeque horseshit, and we know from how he responds to Master Asia that Domon will just do things that you tell him to. He admits it, begrudgingly, because everybody wants to know why he bailed on them for several hours.

-"Do you guys think my shirt is cute? Too bad, I'm taking it off." "You're cute that way too." -> I could see George and Chibodee, in any order. Chibodee and Domon would only be believable if they're together, and with a massive time skip for them to get comfortable over.

-"My idol is that one dude who ate an entire airplane, love that guy, don't know his name." -> Argo, sarcastically, when Chibodee makes some remark about his physique and asks "what do you eat, sheet metal?"

-"Guys I think I watched the wrong Zootopia." -> Argo probably doesn't only pirate physical goods in the space age. He got a joke translation.

-"Domon, what type of feed does Fuunsaiki like, we want to make him a cake for his birthday." -> I feel like this is George and Argo's planning, and I could see either of them being the one to ask.

-[musing about Ice Age squirrel heteronormativity] -> I think Chibodee's the only one who could reasonably have seen it. He also dyes his hair two colors of the bisexual flag and wears the third so I can see him being annoyed by it.

-"I failed to locate a bear suit, does anybody have a spare bear suit?" -> Tbh this one could be any of them, except George, who is listening with his head in his hands.

-[quoting the infamous Snapcube Eggman rant] -> This is either Sai Saici, or Argo lost a bet to Sai Saici and was told to recite this. Sai is the only one of them I can buy being chronically online enough to reference this. Chibodee looks up Shadow and immediately asks Domon if it's his fursona, which backfires because the only other person in the room who knows what a furry is is Sai.

-"Why aren't you being silly? You promised you would be silly with me." -> ARGO. Said with a straight face to George. (Sai would be too low-hanging-fruit here, but I guarantee he's also looking at George expectantly. Admittedly, part of why I can see this coming from Argo is because of choices the dub made with how he speaks.)

-"Rain sent me this picture. I thought she was telling me that she was pregnant, but this is a covid test. She does have covid." -> Domon. Also worded a little differently than the original. While he did spend half his childhood in a jungle with Master Asia, he's probably seen pregnancy tests in drug stores when they have to make very occasional supply runs. Sai has probably also showed everyone the meme where people would edit a pregnancy test into various pictures.

[dearabby1990]

Chapter 11: You didn’t hear it from me..

Eddie leans forward ready for whatever information Gareth has to offer. “Okay dude I’ll tell you everything I know but you didn’t hear it from me understand?! My mom will kill me if she finds out I’m saying anything her Aunt & my mom have been friends since middle school theyd both have my head on a stick!” Eddie nods in agreement & extends his hand as a solid promise to his friend not to say a word about what he’s about to hear. “I guess I’ll start at the beginning.. her aunt & cousin have been camping with my mom & I for as long as I can remember mostly because of my dad taking off her uncle took me fishing and hunting a lot manly activity is what he’d call it & every once in awhile Jessica would have Jamie with her so I’ve known her for quite some time too it’s why we waive at each other it’s not like that at all trust me we’re not each others type she’s more like a sister if anything. I know some of her but the younger her before everything happened… well her mom ended up getting really sick it was bad Ed in & out of the hospital for what felt like forever just to end up being hooked to a million machines at home for hospice.. during the hospital stays Jamie was passed around a lot staying with random family members her dad always prioritized work before Jamie or her mom but we all knew he was cheating with his secretary I overheard my mom on the phone with her Aunt Betty Jane & after Jamie’s mom passed away her dad took to the bottle & started hurting her when he wasn’t completely ignoring her she took a map out one day & tossed a dart at it in hopes of starting a new life away from all the bullshit & when it landed here she thought it was gods way of saying she needed to be with her aunt… Jamie has been through hell shit even her prom was ruined by some fuckin prick jock I’m still looking for that piece of shit too I’ll kill him I swear it!!” Eddie’s eyes pop out of his head “Gareth what the fuck happened at prom?! What guy did he hurt her?!” Gareth put his hands on his friends shoulders making him sit back down. “Look this dude was a grade a prick him & his jock buddies made a bet that he couldn’t get her to goto prom with him & put out & embarrassed her in front of the whole school they carried her minus the blood he made fun of her & said something along the lines of she looks like a pig or something but I remember Jessica being on the phone at my house & the way Jamie was crying it just made my blood boil it’s why she’s so self conscious about how she looks in her head she thinks shes ugly,fat & undeserving of love because of all she’s been through it’s why she’s not letting you in Eddie I wish you would’ve came to us before the twerps but then again you didn’t know I knew her” Eddie’s heart breaks as he tries to wrap his head around all he’s just been told. How could anyone do such things to you? Eddie thought you’re pure perfection & anyone who’s hurt you he’d surely teach a lesson or two or kick their ass whatever came first. Him & Gareth share a few joints as he fills him in on all he knows of happy Jamie so he can help open her heart to him he’d do anything to make you smile. Learning your favorite colors & songs favorite flowers and animal to see at the zoo of course it’d be a Siberian tiger they’re exotic & beautiful like you. He’d be sure to go get you a stuffed animal & write you a letter to leave on your doorstep he is determined to get you to not only open up to him but fully let him in. You’re all he can think about he’s already written several songs and made several d&d characters that all look oddly like you even Mike & dustin noticing the resemblances of each elf & fairy that’s been presented over the past few weeks. He’s been trying to find the right words to say to you he’s already got a 2 foot stuffed tiger at home for you in his closet & a card all picked out and set on his desk he just doesn’t know what or how to say what he feels. Eddie isn’t used to feeling this way about someone the idea of love itself scared him to death but not when it came to you he was ready.

[specialagentlokitty]

Mr Evershed x student!reader - sometimes actions speak

Hi would you write a part 2 off sometimes actions speak (mr evershed x student!reader) maybe reader has to spend a 2 week in school suspension in mr eversheds office and at first is really closed off and angry but eventually he starts to get through to them? :) - Anon💜

Part two:

Mr Evershed wasn’t shocked when once again, you were sent to his office.

What shocks him was the fact it was the third time that day, and it wasn’t even past lunch time.

“You’re on a mission that’s for sure, seriously? Again?” He asked.

You set the book you picked up from the table back down and shrugged a little bit.

“People piss me off.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t excuse your behaviour (Y/N). You threatened to hit another student across the head with a text book.”

You grinned at him proudly.

“I told them I’d knock some intelligence in them.”

“That is not acceptable and you know that, what’s even worse is that you attempted to actually hit said student with the book.”

“Well I’m not gonna say it and not follow through am I?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked up from his computer.

You were simply wondering around the room, just picking things up and putting them back.

“I can’t give you a day in resolve for this, I know it’s not going to teach you anything.”

You shrugged.

“I can’t suspend you because I know you’d be happy with that and that wouldn’t be a punishment.”

“Oh no whatever will you do?” You mocked.

Walking over to a chair, you sat down in it, putting your legs over the arm of the chair as you pretended to be asleep.

Mr Evershed tapped his pen against his desk, thinking off all the options that he currently had, trying to decide the best course of action.

“Suspension.” He said.

“Thought you couldn’t do that.”

“Here, in my office, for two weeks. Normal school hours starting from today.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Watch your language. If you can’t be trusted in a classroom full of student right now, then somebody has to keep an eye on you, and I know full well you leave resolve every single time you’re put in there.”

You turned to look at the headteacher.

“Not my fault they’re so stupid.”

“That’s not nice, enough of that. I’m going to get your work brought in for you and we’ll start from there.”

Of course Mr Evershed wasn’t expecting it to be easy, but he wasn’t expecting it to be so hard either.

He thought maybe you’d be more willing to work away from others, but you were just the same, just as disruptive and partially just as rude as usual.

You would lose your temper, you would throw things, swear at him, storm out of the office which you learned would only lead to a longer suspension so you stopped.

But you were just so full of rage, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get through to you.

Even a week into the suspension and he still couldn’t find a way to connect to you.

He watched as you scribbled all over your worksheet, practically blurring out every single word.

“(Y/N), come on. I know you can do this.” He said.

You said nothing as you carried on.

“Hey, just put the pen down for a minute okay?”

You carried on what you were doing, actively choosing to ignore him.

“(Y/N), put the pen down.”

He tried with a slightly sterner tone, but this just seemed to anger you more, because you threw the pen down, making it bounce off the table and land somewhere in the office.

Now, Mr Evershed knew you.

He knew your behaviour.

And even for you that was an out of character reaction, never had you lost your temper of something so small before.

And it worried him.

“What’s going on?” He asked softly.

Setting his work down, Mr Evershed got up and made his way over, sitting in front of you at the table you were supposed to be working at.

“(Y/N) whatever is going on we can sort it out, but you need to speak to me.”

You said nothing, and you refused to look at him.

“This behaviour isn’t like you, and that’s saying something. What’s going on?”

You screwed up the worksheet into a ball and threw it at him.

“Fuck you.”

“Hey, you’re not in trouble okay? I just want to talk that’s all.”

You kicked the table and he placed his hands on the edge to stop it from slamming into his legs and he sighed.

“Okay, you don’t want to talk. That’s alright. How about you take a break, eat your lunch, and we’ll go from there okay?”

He got up, giving you some space and he sat back down at his desk.

It was a bit early for lunch, but he hoped maybe taking the break would calm you down a little bit.

But after a few minutes of you not doing anything he began to get worried again.

He waited a bit longer.

“Do you want to go to the canteen and get something to eat?”

You didn’t reply to him.

“Okay.”

He got up, leaving the room he asked Loraine to go sit with you while he disappeared and a few minutes later he came back and she left.

Mr Evershed walked over, setting some food and a drink on the table for you, and he walked back to his desk.

You looked at the food, and you began to pick through it, slowly eating and drinking your drink until you were finished.

He waited before walking over, sitting in front of you again.

“Are you done?”

You nodded.

“Good, do you want to go for a walk? I’m trusting you won’t run off on me.”

You nodded again, and he took you outside so you could just walk around, and he sat on a bench keeping a close eye on you.

Eventually he walked over, and you stopped, looking at him.

“Talk to me, what’s going on?”

You said nothing and he nodded, heading back over to sit down.

Then, a few minutes later you sat with him.

“Am I a bad person?” You asked him.

“No. I don’t think so. Yes, you’ve done bad things, and you carry on doing them, but that doesn’t make you a bad person.” He said.

“My carer said I was a shit person, and that I was never going to do anything.”

He looked at you.

“What happened?”

You sighed, and you told him everything that had happened a few nights before, about how you had gotten into a massive argument, and what they had said to you.

“You’re not a bad person, okay? Yes, you make bad choices every day, but that’s different. You can changes these choices. If you were a bad person overall, you wouldn’t be able to change that.”

“You have to say that.”

“I don’t, I could just as easily say you are a bad person if it were true, but it isn’t. So, don’t listen to what they say. Okay?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“Is this why you’ve been acting out more?”

You shrugged a bit.

“You want attention, I understand. You want someone to notice you, even if it is for something bad, but it doesn’t have to be.”

You glared at him a bit.

“Come on, I know deep down you want to pass your GCSE’s, so, how about we work together on it?”

You looked at him.

“Go on..” you mumbled.

“Well, you complete your work, and we’ll see where you’re at in your studies and if and where you need support. If you do that and have a successful half term of following the rules we can arrange a trip, wherever you want.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, looking at the floor.

“The zoo?” You asked quietly.

“We’ll go to the zoo then.”

You turned to Mr Evershed and he smiled at you.

“Do we have a deal?”

You nodded your head.

“Alright, come on then.”

He got up and you followed behind him.

He wasn’t expecting you to get through the entire half term without a problem, he knew it didn’t work like that.

But, he would give you some leeway with it, he just wasn’t going to tell you. He wanted you to figure this out, and doing that he had to let you take the lead, and he would just support and help you from there

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

Why Characters Matter- Witcher S3 (Vol. 1)

Full spoilers for our four lead character arcs in S3 of The Witcher are below. I am going fully off of memory. I swear, I only have good things to say. (Especially my favorite idiot, he made me cry)

To me, character drives the heart of shows and I finally feel like Witcher has gained some of its heart back.

My biggest problem with Witcher Seasons 1-2 is that I felt like we had no reason to believe our core 4. They had almost no reason to hang out.

Why should I care about Geralt and Jaskier's friendship? Geralt fucking hates him! Jaskier has spent most of his life hated, disliked, or ignored. Hell, in season 2 Jaskier had better chemistry with Yen than Geralt did.

Why should I care about Yennifer/Geralt? I know it's going to happen, and honestly, they spend all of their on-screen time fucking! They never hang out as friends, or people trying to get to get to know each other?

This show took my every criticism and said 'Okay, bet'. It made me fall in love with these characters again. This is a really solid season of television with heart, better cinematography and writing.

NOW: For background. I've seen all of the show and played a bit of the game. I also went through a 'lore of Witcher' phase on YouTube analyzing the books. Add onto all that a full 2 years of my life reading fanfic (Geralt/Jaskier, Jaskier/Yen, Geralt/Yen, or all of them in a poly relationship). I am no expert in the series, but where the show failed me, I went to other forms of the story.

So when I say I care about these characters, I am not talking out of my ass. I am going to go character by character and explain why this season helped me care again.

Ciri: Season 2 she was just kind of there? Yeah, she was learning, but she was a plot device. Yen wanted her, the Witchers wanted her, etc. In Season 3 I finally see a girl desperate for connection and safety. She asks all three adults what she should be in life for advice because shes scared. ('I see a powerful ruler regardless of what you do', 'in the future, if you are queen you're life will be shit'. and 'I like who you are now, focus on that and what makes you happy')

She is also SO SMART. I love she tries to impress Geralt with her monster knowledge. That she is really giving it her all with Yen and magic. But she knows that she just can't fit in with the Sorceress, and feels that she's wasting her gifts with Geralt. I know how her story ends and it hurts me to know that her optimism might just get crushed. SHE'S A CHILD!!!!

Yennifer: I AM SO SORRY I DOUBTED YOU! She is the boss ass bitch, I love her, and I fully forgive her for her self-sabotaging in Season 2. She genuinely wants to try to repair shit with Geralt. GENUINELY APOLOGIZING. Starting slow, showing Geralt that she's not just trying to be friendly for a cheap fuck. They spend time together. She is at war trying to balance her circles of influence AND take care of a kid. When she talks to her old friends, I SEE that being vague and secretive is hurting her. BUT SHE HAS TO for her family.

This is the first time I looked at Yen and thought 'She loves him'. All the 'magic kiss slowmo' bullshit didn't work for me. But when she wrote out 'your friend Yennifer' I BELIEVED HER. She's also so funny? Her struggle wearing masks is so relatable, and her teaching Ciri is heartbreaking.

GERALT: I LOVE THIS FUCKING HIMBO. He's trying to balance opening up, running away from authorities, and being a decent role model for his kid.

HE APOLOGIZED! MULTIPLE TIMES! For all his shitty actions! He does it so casually and earnestly! To Jaskier, Yen and Ciri. I don't know where this development happened, but GOD, I love it. He opens up!!!! He smiles, he get's soft, and he gets scary when he needs to!

He went from 'uncaring baddass' to 'oh god, he's a socially awkward nerd'. I finally see a Geralt I recognize. He's smart, and skilled but still struggles with socializing and doing what is right.

EPISODE 5 OH MY GOD. I am so happy they split this series up so we can stew in the cliffhanger!!!

I was on the edge of my seat. Geralt and Yen trust each other so implicitly they're able to make plans on the fly!

Jaskier: He's my favorite. Always has been. (I can write a paper on him this season I swear)

I went into this season expecting him to be in maybe a few scenes, but NO. My man was relevant to the plot.

1.) PLEASE GO TO THE OFFICIAL SOUNDTRACK AND LISTEN TO THE JASKIER ORCHESTRAL STUFF. It's so fucking fun! All plucky, and it sounds like you're going on an adventure and falling in love. 'Lessons in Smiling', 'He's a Spoon'.

2.) I FUCKING LOVED WHAT THEY DID WITH VALDO MARX. I was in no way spoiled, I didn't even know he'd show up. So I literally had to pause I squealed so loud. I wanted Jaskier to be treated well, and I wanted CANON Valdo Marx! I GOT BOTH! Also, All is Not As It Seems is a banger, but maybe overplayed. As Valdo deserves! You get the sense that Valdo is chasing trends and Jaskier fucking despises this man.

3.) THE ROMANTIC ARC. Now. I was spoiled that he'd get a love interest that was 'evil'. I fully expected a 'Douchebag convinces innocent protag they love them, only to double cross them'. This is how it starts. Jaskier catches on really quickly that he's probably going to get double-crossed.

Jaskier knows this is going to be a whole ordeal, so he tries to be as careful as possible. Seeming interested while keeping a distance. We can see Jaskier holding himself behind a mask, keeping the fun energy but watching Radovid in most scenes.

BUT. Jaskier is a romantic.

He knows this prince is bad news, he knows that. But something is keeping him stuck there. He sees his prince as someone to be suspicious of. A man who is willing to fake being drunk to hit on him. A prince who tries to be coy, and get Jaskier alone to talk. Who is usually there when Jaskier talks to his spy contacts. But...Well, we the audience has never seen how Jaskier acts around someone who genuinely likes him and who isn't afraid to show it.

Jaskier will follow a man who hates him for a good chunk of his life, writing songs about nature, love and heartbreak.

But in all this time he NEVER had someone to seriously listen to him. To see through his music, and lyrics, and look at the person he was.

So when this blonde prince sneaks away from an important party and admits that he's scared. And sings Jaskier one of his songs? Not a story written about adventure, or inuendo, or Geralt. No!

A song about how soft and kind love was because it let you be yourself with someone. How a person craves intimacy, even how music is written with untold words of love and kindness. How Jaskier finally feels complete in life! How Jaskier craves to be with someone, to be seen, even if it ends in heartbreak.

This prince finally SEES him...so.

Jaskier falls in love with Radovid of Redania.

Even if it's just for a night, even if it's just a crush. Jaskier can't help himself. He's the one to close the gap. To initiate the kiss. It's so GOOD.

Now. This is a man with bad intentions who is going to hurt Jaskier. I suspect that Jaskier fucking Radovid gave the 'enemy' enough time to kidnap Ciri. So.

Jaskier has always craved being seen by anyone who would listen. To be liked. To be loved. Here, on this one night, that craving was fully taken advantage of, (maybe)with a goal to hurt a person Jaskier cares about(Ciri, by leaving her alone). Even if it turns out that Radovid isn't involved, that he didn't mean for this, it would break Jaskier. Jaskier would close himself up, much like S1 Geralt, his heart wouldn't be safe with anyone. He will smile again. Dance and sing for adoring fans. But he'll never let someone dangerous in again.

I have always shipped Geralt/Jaskier, I really love reading it. I love angst/unrequited love. Hell, give it a week, and I'll read S3 fic. But this season I saw a Jaskier that didn't need Geralt anymore. Who had moved onto someone who at least seemed interested. Jaskier was simply a happy man doing what he loved. He was a weird Uncle teaching Ciri how to be human. I ADORE the scene where Geralt and Yen are talking and Ciri and Jaskier are secretly watching them. I finally feel like Jaskier is an accepted member of this family.

4.) Just seeing someone finally be comfortable in their own skin was so nice in this show. He's a funny, awkward, and sometimes charming guy. He's anxious ass all he'll, and scared and trying to rationalize the shit that's happened to him. He runs around doing stupid shit because he cares about his friends. He's not attached to Geralt's hip, and the audience gets a sense Jaskier has a life! I fucking love this man, and how he tries to seem brave around literal superhumans.

This season treated Jaskier, like how fandom on AO3 treated Jaskier, with respect, joy, and a plan to break his heart!

[starburstjuno]

Dad!Eddie Headcanons

look!! i’m nothing if not eddie munson’s whore and being eddie munson’s whore involves A LOT of daydreaming of him as a dad. like a lot. this man would slay as a punk rock dad and i’ll hear nothing else ever.

warnings : pregnancy mentions, childbirth mentions, extreme self indulgence ahead

word count : 895

requests open | masterlist

when eddie first finds out you’re pregnant, he’s not even worried about himself and what this means for his future

he’s ALL about making sure you’re comfortable and happy (and safe, let’s be real)

he’ll never pressure you talk about it if you don’t want to, he’ll let you move in with him THAT DAY like he’s so accommodating

he also fully takes responsibility like hey i had a part in this, i’m gonna be here for the whole process no matter what it is

and when you finally come to the conclusion (together) that you’re gonna keep and raise the baby, he can’t even hide that he’s kinda excited like

yeah maybe he didn’t have a great childhood/great parents to look up to and follow, but he’d be lying if he said he never wanted kids

he always loved kids, kids always loved him, and he thought it would be kinda fun so the second you’re like yep i wanna keep it he’s onboard 100000% ready to go

it’s adorable just how much he does for you when you’re pregnant

even in the early stages, he insists on your keeping your feet up and never lifting a finger

of course one day he comes home and sees you literally folding clothes and nearly dies

“why are you doing so much? are you trying to overwork yourself? what about the baby?”

it’s time to have a discussion about eddie not being So Overdramatic about everything even tho yeah that’s kinda his thing

it takes some time but by the time the late stages of pregnancy come around, eddie’s calmed down and even has a little breathing thing he does to keep himself level

so imagine the way he freaks shit when your water breaks

there’s no one in that whole hospital pacing more than eddie munson

you’re all checked in, already set up in a room with nurses checking in and everything and my man is pacing the longest part of the room so fast

but the second you’re in pain he’s right there!

he literally refuses to leave your side no matter what, even when the nurses tell him that the father usually waits outside

thats not eddie’s gig tho. you’re hurting? he’s there.

and on top of that, it’s the birth of his child. of course he’s gonna be there

now, eddie would be a great dad no matter what, but let me tell you when i say that eddie munson is the PERFECT man to have a few little girls like,,,

princess stickers on his guitar, pink glitter nail polish before the show, plastic princess crowns for album cover shoots, everything

eddie 👏🏻 is 👏🏻 a 👏🏻 girl 👏🏻 dad 👏🏻 (ignoring how much i hate the term girl dad bye)

king rolls up in black ripped skinny jeans, old fucked up combat boots and a metal t-shirt to pick up his daughter from ballet class and she’s in all powder-pink and bows and shit

his daughter(s) love it when their dad plays his music in the car!!!!

toddler in a disney princess costume dress that she wears every day headbanging to metal in the back of her dads car on the way to kindergarten vibes

but also eddie is just so chill that he’d be down for whatever his kids wanted to do

wanna braid my hair? go ahead bud

wanna paint my nails? let me wash my hands first

want me to teach you to play guitar? your hands might be a little to small but fuck it we ball, let’s do it anyway

also!! coming out to dad!eddie?

bye he’s the type to just sip his beer and be like word, you wanna order pizza for dinner?

so unbothered because he knows absolutely nothing will ever make him stop loving his kid(s)

would absolutely go to pride events! would absolutely have more fun than his gay kid bc being a d&d nerd and metalhead he’s very familiar with campy ass bullshit

eddie mixes cool punk rocker dad with embarrassing “how do you do fellow kids” dad and he’s so right for that

like at first all of his kids friends think he’s so slay and edgy and cool like woah dude!! your dads in a band and plays d&d that’s kinda sick!!!

and then they meet him and he’s making puns and referencing memes in a way where he obviously half understands what he’s saying and half doesn’t understand but he’s saying it with his whole chest anyway

then half of his kids friends would be like your dad is so embarrassing i’m so sorry for you and the other half would basically just be dustin in season 4 where they are OBSESSED and IDOLIZE this man, and they absolutely shouldn’t because he’s a terrible role model he’s just trying really hard not to be

definitely brings up how he used to sell drugs in high school as if it made him way cooler before rushing to tell the kids not to sell drugs (never tells them not to do drugs tho)

i just!!!! i know eddie would be such a good dad like no matter what challenges his kids threw at them he would handle it in a very sloppy, probably funny, and extremely sincere way

he just loves his kids and that’s it!!!

thank you good night!!!

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

y'know I find it so funny how (before hopefully I shut up about them for good), that like a month after I started at my old cadetship workplace back in 2022, they made me sit through a fucking 45minute [but I dragged it out for 2hrs trying to guess the perceived right answers they wanted] personality test that listed my top like 10 strengths, weaknesses and other skills to develop (eg one skill to develop was 'influencing and motivating' or whatever, one weakness was that i often act without thinking or something like that, and my obvious strength was writing).....

and like we had full meetings about my results on that test, and how it might "hinder or aid your (my) productivity" and bullshit like that..... but then they blatantly did fuck all to develop my influencing/motivating, or whatever the fuck that bs test called them skills. they fully ignored that I was a good writer, so they never gave me blog posts or social media posts or got me to write a newsletter article to do with the marketing team. the only VAGUELY writing oriented task I did was copy and pasting case notes from the social worker/tenancy support worker into an excel spreadsheet where I (probs illegally tbh) edited the spelling, grammar and other issues with the case notes bc some of the typos drove me insane tbh. for other things, they never developed or helped curb/develop in a more positive way for my weaknesses.... and just endlessly criticised me instead or never gave real constructive feedback to help me improve.

hell, i could've even helped write the case notes for tribunal for this one tenant we had committing centrelink (aussie social services) and rent fraud wouldve been great! but NO! even that was irrelevant to me, even though I sat directly between my team leader/manager AND rent review, who talked over me about it every fucking day for 3 months. we ended up backdating their unpaid rent 30k if you're wondering. like ok yeah. given this was a management and senior management issue, that was obvs too big for a trainee to be part of. but also! I'm DIRECTLY IN THE MIDDLE of the two people investigating it???? why won't you INCLUDE me???? when you talk over me about it constantly??? dumbass workplace. I swear to fuck.

and I only say this bc I scrolled past this one shitty asf recruiter yesterday on linkedin, who was all like "one whole reason, YOU PERSONALLY have an employment gap on your resume is bc the YOU took too long to be trained by a company and that's just tooooooo expensive and wasteful on company expenses 😥😭 consider that YOU created this problem and the company SHOULD NOT have to train you well enough to do the job!"

like joey. I was IN a TRAINING PROGRAM and the useless ass company I was at REFUSED to train me at all costs and then told me to get assessed for a learning disability/depression/anxiety, bc "you just cant learn fast enough"..... when I was LITERALLY SIGNED UP TO BE TRAINED.

this WAS NOT MY FAULT. there should be adequate onboarding practices and training provided in every workplace, but I was actively being denied it bc I wasn't the bitchy backstabbing type to get anywhere in that workplace. I did not take "too long" to get trained when they actively denied me training opportunities EVERY time I asked for them, by telling me that "thats irrelevant to you!" and "just accept that it's not in your journey with us 🤷🏻‍♀️😬" . fuck you and fuck the corporate overlords who think that training people properly and adequately is just "toooooo expensive and employees should train themselves for free/at their own cost". most esp in fields like social and community work that I was in.

this workplace just did NOT want me to develop and hone my skills in any way, shape, or form, really. they instead dragged me through a useless ass personality test and deliberately ignored my interests, strengths, and weaknesses to develop and then blamed me for "being too slow" and "can't you just teach yourself?? are you Special™️ bc you can't interpret the tenancy succession policy and tenancy software procedure on your own without explicit inperson direction????" they refused to walk me through complicated tenancy procedures and policies when they'd do it with every other new hire.

I did not "take too long be trained"..... when they just actively treated me as a useless intern my entire year there. so I might as well just act as a trainee the entire time and continually ask for help even though it pisses people off (besides the point the ONE TIME I tried to solve a call on my own in the dumbass fucking 2min call window (I usually took like 15mins lmao).... I got told off bc I didn't ask for the correct paperwork and evidence (power of attorney bc the lady just said 'I think my mum has dementia.... so I'm just taking over ALL of her accounts for her) all became they NEVER let me sit on a call and listen in on what the hell to ask for (ie a living skills assessment) because THEY REFUSED to give me training on it (and also I think they thought my cert IV in housing course covered this issue. it didn't).... so how the fuck was I SUPPOSED to just automatically and INTUITIVELY KNOW what questions to ask and what paperwork and assessments etc I needed from the client???? fucking bizarre. and to this day I still have no idea if my mentor/manager ever bothered to follow up and rectify the issue for me.

also, right before i left in 2023, they actively KICKED ME OUT of an external (but internally in the office) all day training session on home visits/inspections bc "oh we booked the whole customer service team by accident!!! we booked you in error. so delet yourself now from the training invite right now!" literally the DAY BEFORE the training was to happen. yet they let the new (at the time) cadet go. and yet, they lectured me all the time on my "poor time management" and "poor planning and timetable coordination" or whatever the fuck skills. like ok given that I left that week, so in a sense, that training would've been wasted on me. but also. you told me THE DAY BEFORE and not 3 MONTHS PRIOR (ie when they booked it in the calendar and invited me to it) thag I wasn't invited??? how am I the one with poor time management in this scenario???? fuck you. bc it was the only other external training they'd offered me other than child safety and mandatory reporting.... which is understandably mandatory in this field. WHY can't you spare me ONE FUCKING DAY of outside training??? like they even denied me fucking first aid and CPR???? which is also usually mandatory in this field. all bc "you'll be with someone whose qualified??? why should we bother putting you in CPR and first aid training???"

but yeah. fuck that useless as workplace and fuck recruiters which think people who have gaps on their resume are jobless bc "oh. you just take too long to be trained, huh? what a suck on resources YOU PERSONALLY must be for ANYONE to hire to successfully carry out any role!" and my point is, they even denied me BASIC mandatory training in things like cpr/first aid??? how the fuck was I supposed to excel and be trained here????

bc it also largely falls on companies who REFUSE an employee who was ACTIVELY a trainee adequate training for dumbass toxic workplace reasons.... and also blame employees for issues they CANNOT rectify... like the shitty government aged care call centre that I worked at in feb and march this year.... all bc my phone app (which is THEIR back-end tech issue) that I couldn't fix by simply turning a computer on and off again) was back connecting to calls ALL the time, which meant I couldn't take calls during my training weeks (only 6 weeks).

so they did call me a "drain on resources" because the people who I sat with actively took quality on my calls and were apparently put in like "off boarding" mode bc they weren't actively doing the job of taking at least 30 calls per an 8hr shift.... but instead assessing me for quality. so it's also shit employers in general. so I quit instead of being fired.

[bracketsoffear]

Warren the Eagle propaganda: here's a video compilation of his nasty crap--https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iD-67y0Iq30&t=103s.

He tries to seem like he's just a friendly and energetic guy there to teach the trio about how to be a good friend, but it quickly becomes apparent that he's highly selfish and neurotic, responds very poorly to any criticism to his ideas, and is only using the OK Stop program (which he is not supposed to technically be affiliated with anyways) to try and rope others into listening to his podcast, and he immediately starts acting pushy and overbearing towards Imaginary Shy Older Brother the moment he realizes that he can get away with it.

To illustrate the effects of bullying within friend groups, he launches into a song/slideshow about a "guy that I knew," which is actually just a musical rant about his former friends. Sorting through his bullshit, we can infer that Warren was part of an anti-bullying organization called OK Stop, but got fired because he got upset when his coworkers didn't pay him enough attention or listened to his business ideas and started harassing them--a newspaper in an earlier episode mentions "WORM FIRED FOR HARASSMENT." He went on to steal some equipment from the place, claiming that he still had the legal right to continue using it, and continued being an unofficial "Friendship Expert" for his own self-serving ends. He's also implied to be trying to get the students to pay for a "Restaurant Style Meal" for him, given how he insists on having it with them despite being a stranger.

He constantly says friends need to take each other into consideration, but he makes everything about himself and it's up for debate whether or not he just made the situation between Red, Duck, and Yellow worse. It's most clear when, after his attempt to make everybody listen to his podcast is shut down, he immediately declares that friendships are about doing what everybody wants to do and not just doing your own thing, before resuming his attempt to put on his podcast. He then tries to trap Yellow Guy in his own mind forever so Warren can be his "best friend" while Yellow Guy's body sags and melts.

He's also described by the puppets as being generally unpleasant and gross:

Warren: "But how could a confident, handsome worm--EAGLE!--have trouble keeping friends? Good question!"

Red Guy: "Is it because of the way you look? [...] Yeah, all sort of lumpy and red-raw."

Duck: "Is it because you look like a bit of a bigger animal that fell off or was removed and then came to life?"

Yellow Guy: "Looks more like an old person's finger."

Duck: "Reminds me of an infection I had up my--"

Red Guy: "Or was it the voice?"

Colin: "He looks like a tumor!"

Duck: "And he stinks!"

Yellow Guy: "I know! It's because you've got beady eyes like a rat!"

Red Guy: "Or because you're generally unlikeable in a way that's hard to pin down."

And his final form--the one he takes when he chases Yellow Guy through his mind to force friendship upon him--looks like a Cronenbergian mound of slimy flesh folds.

He's the embodiment of intrusive thoughts and insecurities. Warren feeds Yellow Guy's fears that Red Guy and Duck hate him and he literally crawls into Yellow Guy's brain and ruins his happy place. After removing him from Yellow Guy's head, Red Guy and Duck sing about how everyone has a worm in their brain that tells them negative and upsetting things (such as how Red Guy can't wear denim) and they should be ignored.

Video Link

CW: body horror, blood, death, surreal, toxic relationships

[sarcastic-salem]

Hey, guys.

Its Milo and I feel like haven’t been on here in years when really its only been like a month. I don’t know what I’m doing here to be honest. I don’t know if I’ll stay.

I’m unfollowing all of the Heathen and Pagan blogs. I still worship Loki, but I’m not entirely sure I want to be affiliated with that community anymore. Like the Pagan community, in general. Not just because I’m tired of competing with people, but the whole community — including the people who criticize it — are so fucking toxic.

Like I did some digging and it turns out a lot of the mindfulness and enlightenment stuff that people love to shit on are philosophies that were appropriated from East-Asian religions like Buddhism and Taoism. People all over the world still believe in those religions and their teachings. So when you shit on their beliefs because ignorant white people who don’t wanna commit to religion have been spouting bullshit

You’re kinda being a racist piece of shit🙃

And I’m not…….I’m done with it. I’m done with all the negativity and the arguing and pseudo-intellectual bullshit. And like…..I saw this post on FB about how the Norse supposedly believed there is a magical goat in Valhalla that constantly produces beer, and the entire comment section was all white dudebros talking about how awesome that is.

That’s embarrassing, ok?

And what’s even worse is joining a group or talking to other Heathens online and realizing that they’re all white people. That makes me really uncomfortable, especially since I just spent like 4 years of my fucking life getting hate mail and death threats and having my reputation destroyed because I wanted to create a safe space in the Heathen community. And like I don’t even care if you think I’m playing the victim card, alright — I know I fucked up, believe me.

Because certain assholes on this site will never let me forget it.

But like if that doesn’t make you uncomfortable — that the Heathen community is still mostly white even after years of pushing for change — then you might wanna do some introspection.

I don’t know.

I realize I mostly tried to spread awareness about trans and disability issues, and queer history so maybe I have no right saying any of this. But…..I don’t — its not my place to speak for BIPOC communities and their issues either. Like I’m trying to reign in the savior complex — not make it worse, ok?

And just like, jfc, Tumblr users learn to turn off the replies and accept the fucking fact that people are gonna disagree with you and that just because someone likes your post on social media that doesn’t make you the smartest person in the room.

And that’s not a bad thing because no one is the smartest person.

I’m a complete dumbass, I know, but yall seriously cannot just throw a fucking temper tantrum and tell people to fuck off because they comment or reply on your posts. That’s not how real life works and that’s not how social media is intended to work, and yeah, Tumblr is social media.

And don’t just say its because you’re triggered or ND or whatever cause you make the whole fucking ND community look bad when you say that shit. You make it seem like we just wanna use our neurodivergencies as a get-out-of-jail-free card instead of taking responsibility for our actions.

Not only that but ignoring the fact that you’re unable to handle criticism can be hugely detrimental to your social skills.

Ask me how I know🙃

And like sometimes its not even criticism — its just finding out that people don’t love the same things you do that send people flying off the handle. Like what the fuck — are you five?

Is someone suddenly evil because they hate your favorite movie?