#which is upsetting since I don't think it's possible and I am terrified of being one of those musicians in the one or two pubs here that

[david-watts]

now that I am on a computer with a keyboard and not trying to use my blunt malformed arthritic-swollen fingers which I'm certain have some form of nerve damage after consistent frostnip for literal years. I had a very strange dream last night and I think it may be one of those dreams. the ones I remember for years. the ones where... I don't think I can explain that in public without a lot of people suddenly having another reason to hate me and want me committed

[axailslink]

Friend!?

Riri Williams x poc FEM reader

(^^^ Riri dodging your kisses after you told her mom she was your friend)

Summary: you and Riri have been dating for a year now and you're finally ready for her to meet your family there are a couple of problems though they don't know you're bringing your girlfriend who you introduce as your friend.

Snippet from the fic: "You can't help but feel the guilt run through your body it feels as if you're breathing in poison. "No no no no I didn't mean that you're the love of my life I'm just I'm scared Riri..."

Truth be told you let Riri talk you into this she hyped you up for meeting your parents knowing you're terrified so much that you're shaking as you knock on the door. Riri reassured you before you left the car that you could both leave at any time you pleased so that of course made you less nervous but it didn't do enough. Your mother is quick to grab you in a hug and she waits for you to introduce Riri which you do so hesitantly "this is Riri Williams child genius and my... Gir-best friend" it came out so quick you wanted to tell her, of course, you're grown now the most she could do is yell at you she can't kick you out you have your own place. Your mother's facial expression has a slight displeasing shift as if she's upset by the very obvious lie you just told her but a smile quickly returns to her face as she grabs Riri's hand. While your mother is quick to act as if it doesn't bother her Riri is not you can feel the glare on your back. She of course couldn't be upset at you for not coming out but she could be upset at you for lying and making her believe you would do so. Not telling your mother was pushing her back into the closet and she didn't want to go back.

Riri gives your mother the chocolate you suggested since she insisted on giving her a gift to lighten the mood before you tell her but what use was it now if you're going to lie and drag her in the lie? When your mother leaves to check on the food Riri shares a glance of so many emotions it causes your stomach to twist and pull her eyes are filled with hurt but understanding her facial expression is dropped and she can't help but frown. With the need to apologize you grab her hand and you're quick to pull her upstairs into your bedroom. You shut the door and grab her into a full hug as you start to ramble at the mouth "I'm sorry baby I'm so sorry I was going to tell her I really was but it all seemed like so m-" "friend? Y/n? Really your fucking friend? I'm trying not to be selfish and not care but the lie that so easily came from your lips was "friend". That's what hurts the most." You can't help but feel the guilt run through your body it feels as if you're breathing in poison. "No no no no I didn't mean that you're the love of my life I'm just I'm scared Riri..." Riri nods and sucks her teeth "right you're scared... What about me Y/n I'm not in the closet I'm open and very gay and out there your mom could possibly shoot me." You roll your eyes "you're being over exaggerative" she looks at you both eyebrows raised "...maybe not too exaggerative" Riri sucks her teeth as she walks past you.

She doesn't even give you a chance to apologize so you do what needs to be done even though this possibly could ruin a lot of relationships "mom I have to say something" your mother wipes her hands on the dry towel next to the counter and nods as Riri stands behind you "I lied this is not my friend or best friend or any type of friends she's..." you want to say it you so badly want to say it but this could ruin the relationship you have with you mother and your family you feel a hand on your lower back. "Honey I know who Riri is to you and it doesn't make me think of you any differently you are still the baby girl I raised only difference is now I have to wonder if I have to find two dresses for your future wedding." your mother smiles and chuckles "I am a little hurt that you didn't think you could come to me and felt like you had to hide it hide her. She's a lovely young lady or so I have heard I did my fair share of research but did you really think I would think any different of you?"

you can't help but feel embarrassed now because you made a big deal out of nothing and you let Riri get hurt in the process but Riri can read it on your face as you stare in silence. Riri is quick to wrap her arms around you and kiss your head "calm down I am not upset with you and she's not upset with you shit happens just take a moment to breathe." your mother pulls you both onto the couch as she notices your legs bucking as you start crying. Both of your favorite women comfort you through the panic attack they soon found out you were experiencing.

When the night ends you and Riri are sprawled on the couch her legs are tangled in yours and your mother is smiling to herself as she snaps a few pictures before returning to her room for the night.

@verachii

@mocha-aya

@shuriszn

@lolas-bunny

@louderfortheback

@lucillele

@shuri-lover

@quintessencewrites

@zestgodtj

@yamsthoughts

@sokkasbae255

@saintwrld

@tuesdaylovesu

@rxcently

@yvxmpire

@lunax0654

@homie0sapien

@karimwillia

@adeola-the-explorer

@garbagesleepschedule

@bratydoll

@gubrii

@vampphase

@ctrl-liah

@trixielwt

@6-noir

@annoyingtidalwavequeen

@atssukoo

@shuri-my-love

@inmyheadimobsessed

@letitias-fav

@rxcently

@iwillbiteabitch

@malltake12

@awarm-sundaynight

@mxyx-rx444

@kiwidreamersstuff

[exoticalmonde]

LUNDInium Outskirts /but it's her insane doodles/ PART IV

Me: *Casually watching my operators work on ZT-7 farming* Me: *Looks away for a second* Lessing: "Du kannst rennen, aber ich werde weiter jagen." Me:

I forgot I set all the Leithanien characters to German the day before...

--- Me: *In the base* Poz: "Doctor, if you insist on spending time together, how about we talk about your favourite books?" Me: *Pushes everything off my desk to clear space* "You just need to ask!"

--- There is no doodle for this one, but since it's HorseUncleTM merch, I wanted to show it off because the last part didn't actually feature what I was shown and how insane it looks knowing she has her entire desk COVERED with them.

---

How is RI-13 not broke yet living in holes, who knows...? Perhaps the rumours are correct and Dr. Lundi really dealing secretly with firearms on the black market of Sargon. ---

The event of Dr. Lundi half-crying on the bus back home because she couldn't stream to us BUYING the SKIN will be a core memory created based on eternal friendship. I will never be happier to wake up than I am when I see an 'Eve, can I be soggy again?' before being bombarded with Mlynar details and ramblings regardless of what I say.

There's a lot to unpack but I can't possibly ever talk about Mlynar the same way Lundi does in VC. She pulls up receipts proof of her words as well every time she mentions something.

--- We also have a new Pinkie sticker! Wahoo team!!!

Based on this --- Based on this post about our Arknights Yumeship's kid being bullied, I had a little spiral and was just thinking about different scenarios. Out of all the answers given, Kryo's is most direct and... very in character towards his sarkaz/draco child.

Lundi's also leaning towards physical aggression, instant retaliation for their little baba horse.

And then I just... imploded... (This was on the basis of the parents trying to justify their child's behaviour)

While Pinkie is not too interested on the aspect of children we've been trying to involve them more in the Yumeship questions just because their relationship with Swire/Chen is SO wholesome but they're shy to actually indulge. It's alright, we will always be there for the sugarbaby ultramind that is our friend.

You can see this conversation was very important to me.

Which is why this ART IS SO CUTE IM CRYING I LOVE THEM

---

Vigorously searched for the video, but basically, me and the Team were watching Unusual Memes from this one channel and one of them was of a guy who walked up to his neighbour/friend's home camera and said 'Well, you DON'T get to decide when to party, I want you around now.' And well... if that isn't Lundi pulling Dr. Eve out of bed during some of her emotional episodes.

In reference to this, Dr. Pinkie was upset Lundi wasn't just breaking down my door because she usually does that without asking. So some edits were applied and a part 2 has been added:

We all loved everything about this. Thank you Pinkie for always being some of the best designers and always editing things in the funniest way possible.

Me: "It looks like I'm getting kidnapped." Lundi: "Child napper."

... ... ... I JUST NOTICED THIS GIF WAS CREATED??!?!?!?!?!?!?

I'M GETTING TURNED INTO SOURDOUGH HELP ME --- Pinkie stealing Dr. Lundi's food.

--- God forbid I ever sneeze in call

--- And as some of the final doodles there's for this part, allow me a little TW about bugs because I am absolutely terrified of this thing and I am afraid that its arms are longer than mine so I can't even come into reach to kill it.

It's not my fault people make shelves so high up.

[theromanticrationalist]

Young Sheldon Season 7 Thoughts. . .

"I've got a hot wife and a Nobel Prize, I turned out fine."

I LIVE. <insert Mushu gif raising from the afterlife> It has been awhile since I have been able to update on here! There are many reasons for this, one of them being my other fandom obsession (Dune, you know the other neurodivergent, genius, socially awkward white boy who thinks he is a god...), but also I've reached the level of obsession with Sheldon Cooper that it is nearly physically impossible for me to watch the new episodes! I hope others understand that feeling. I LOVE THIS BOY SO MUCH. 😭 I am just SO NERVOUS about this season! I don't want Sheldon to experience tragedy. Yet - I have chosen to persevere, and I have now caught up!

And the story has certainly unfolded in interesting directions! 😮 Okay, okay - so the BIG thing - Sheldon witnessing his Father sleeping with "another woman"! I am feeling conflicting emotions - impressed, relieved, and a little upset. I am impressed and relieved because they were able to adhere to the integrity of this show while still allowing established canon to be technically true. However, I am also a little upset because it makes Sheldon's experience less serious and lessens the trauma of it that clearly was established in TBBT. In the episode when Sheldon confesses to Penny about what he saw with his father and how it effected him, that was deeply personal and profoundly impacting. It is what scared him in regards to his relationship with Amy, and kept up his walls against intimacy and vulnerability because he was terrified of hurting her. And it is what made him develop the three knocks coping mechanism. To me the fact that it was actually just a silly misunderstanding (his mother roleplaying) is just another aspect of the writers once again invalidating Sheldon as a character. It is THE main mistake of TBBT, playing Sheldon's personality quirks as primarily foolish and "Hah hah hah! Isn't he a weirdo who doesn't understand social conventions and established normal human behavior?! Har har har!"

"Penny, I'm going to tell you a story that I've never told anyone..." Sheldon and Penny at the ice cream parlor in Season 10 Episode 5 The Hot Tub Contamination of The Big Bang Theory. This was one of the rare moments this show treated Sheldon's character with gravitas. That's kind of ruined now. . . This is a sin that Young Sheldon has not committed until now, and so that really steams my clams! One of the main reasons I love this show so much is because of how it has always treated Sheldon's character with nuance and dignity, showing his complex layers in a deeply human and beautiful way - even while, yes, maintaining the comedic, quixotic charm of the character as well. So, the fact that they've flattened this significant event in Sheldon's life into a ba dum tss moment thrown at the end of the episode last minute is pretty shitty of them. And yet, Mary and George Cooper rekindled their marriage! I thought it was SO SO adorable how they wrote letters to one another while she and Sheldon were in Germany. That warmed my heart. Young Sheldon's thematic structure works and is reliant upon Mary and George Cooper's marriage (something I will go into more in-depth later) so George cheating on his wife just didn't make sense for this story they were telling, or even the characters they had established. So, it's fifty-fifty. I guess it was the best possible outcome given the givens, and certainly makes me happy because I prefer a reality where Sheldon grows up in a stable - albeit dysfunctional - household rather than the heavily implied even more dysfunctional, traumatic one from the TBBT canon. In most of TBBT, Sheldon certainly painted a deadbeat, failure of a father. Such as his mentioning how his father lost a job due to his stealing from the cash register, which Sheldon had been responsible for telling on his father (The Big Bang Theory 9x12 The Sales Call Sublimation) rather than in Young Sheldon, his father losing a coaching job because of his reporting rule breaking at work (Young Sheldon 1x01 Pilot). There has been some significant retconning going on here in this show, but the retconned reality is the one I prefer - so . . . what are ya gonna do? 🤷‍♀️

[petefromarma]

You can (and should) laugh at me for this, but am I the only one who prefers that the band hasn't said anything about gaza because I'm lowkey terrified I wouldn't like what I hear if they did? Like I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Andy was part of a fundraiser for the palestinian children's relief fund because it was semi-solid evidence that the other guys felt similarly but it's still not concrete evidence, and if any of them had opinions more in line with Gabe's it would both break my heart and absolutely ruin the fandom for me, and I can't change how they feel so I would rather just not know, and I am absolutely aware that makes me a coward but I was also too cowardly to ask my immediate family what they thought for MONTHS even though I was 90% sure they would agree with me and I have not said a DAMN thing at work either because I really don't trust my coworkers. I KNOW its awful and cowardly, but if (just in case) their opinions are bad I just dont want to fucking hear them. (This is stupid and you dont have to publish it btw, I dont even know what im trying to accomplish here besides process a feeling I've been having this whole time and feel guilty about HAVING, let alone expressing.)

putting this under a read more bc it’s long

so let me preface this by saying that i am not under the impression that fob minus andy are active zionists or anything as they have not given me a reason to believe such a thing; that being said, i think that at this point, at their level of celebrity, that silence is complicity, to a degree. this can be said for anyone with a platform who has not spoken up, at this point. and imo pete’s silence plus him/his family still being close with biden is already not…great. he should have experienced far more backlash than he did from the fandom for attending that white house party; people let up on him because he deleted the post which as i’ve said before was the right thing to do but that doesn’t take away from the fact that he did go.

gabe rightfully got his ass handed to him and ik everyone has different levels of what they’ll tolerate, but to me the white house incident was pretty fucking bad and i was surprised no one came for pete even half as hard. i understand the bidens are his family friends or whatever but at this point it cannot be ignored that the man himself is a genocidaire. so.

anyway i understand your anxiety, i think it’s normal to be upset at the thought that the individuals responsible for something you’ve invested a large amount of your life in are not good people. regardless, and i hope this doesn’t sound harsh, but i would suggest trying to come to terms with the possibility that the other three maybe do not have the best or most correct opinions re palestine; i don’t think any of them, as i said, have actively horrific beliefs, but to me their passiveness (as well as pete’s continued involvement with the bidens) is itself a moral failing.

idk there’s a lot to be said on this topic re complicity and celebrities in general but that would be too much for me to get in to tonight. i think it’s also necessary to remember that this is far bigger than fob which is part of why i was saying i don’t understand why we’re not flooding their insta comments since most of foblr seems to be involved with pro palestinian initiatives to some degree. idk i suppose it can be argued that swifties are just “badly behaved” or whatever but like i said i see a good amount of them every day mentioning that she STILL hasn’t said anything and i feel like we could be doing the same not just with fob but with other bands in the scene like mcr.

anyway re also the stuff in your personal life; i think knowing how to phrase things to people who are not within the leftist sphere who have been propagandized to all of their lives is also an important part of activism and you don’t necessarily have to go full throttle all at once. if you need resources let me know and i’ll find you some

[the-girl-with-the-glass-heart]

I've never drawn stardew valley fanart before but since you guys liked my Alex and Harvey body swap idea so much I thought I'd draw something for it.

"What happens when a 40 year old wimpy doctor with a dad bod swaps bodies with his conceited 20 year old athletic neighbor on the same day that one of them has a date for the flower dance and the other has an interview that could make or break his business? Alot of really stupid hijinks and some kinda horrifying angst."

Yeah I draw Harvey over weight, fight me.

For those who haven't seen the post I made a long long hypothetical post about what if Alex and Harvey swapped bodies and it got quite a few notes so I'm happy you guys liked it.

Here are some really great things I think would happen here that I didn't mention in the other post.

-Since Alex is a conceited asshole before he gets character development he spends alot of time complaining about how old Harvey's body is and how fat and weak it is or his stupid mustache, the good news is that Harvey doesn't hesitate to call him an asshole and a good portion of this idea is Alex being humiliated by circumstance. The very first thing he said when finding he was in Harvey's body was "look at my hands! I have witch hands! I look like I should be stirring a cauldron!". Don't worry, Alex learns better and apologizes to Harvey about it which actually helps them switch back.

-Harvey gives Alex a ton of notes on taking care of his patients in his absence and Alex is 100% sure that this is gonna be a cake walk, after all, how hard can being a doctor be when you've just got like... 20 people to look after? Pretty hard actually considering everyone in the valley is unbelievably stupid. Marnie and Jodi show up because their kids swallowed marbles, not together, they just both got the worst idea ever at the same time.

Shane calls in to complain about how he feels awful for some mysterious reason, making Alex yell at him "MAYBE CAUSE YOU LIVE OFF TWO HOURS OF SLEEP AND A DIET OF PEPPER POPPERS AND BEER!". Shane is absolutely stunned at this realization, could have never possibly conceived it.

Lewis walks in complaining that he has splinters all over his body and Alex asks why Lewis says it's cause he was naked in a bush, Alex decides not to press any further.

-Harvey attempts to walk Alex's dog, sure he's never walked one before since he's allergic to them, but it's probably not that hard. Dusty then proceeds to yeet Harvey all over stardew valley, smacking him into mail boxes and bushes and buildings.

-People keep throwing things at Harvey and expecting him him catch it, he's gonna have a broken nose by the end of the day if people don't stop.

-Like I said before, Alex has a date with Haley for the flower festival and says Harvey has to go in his place or else Haley will be crushed.

Later when Alex is at Harvey's aerobics class he sees Haley there and over hears her talking to Emily about how she's upset that Alex is avoiding her and how she doesn't even know if he will meet her at the festival.

Alex jumps in to very enthusiastically and somejeay creepily tell her that he will absolutely 100% be there no matter what because Alex told him himself.

Haley doesn't even acknowledge what he just said and asks why a man's in a dance aerobics class, Alex has no explanation.

-At the flower dance Harvey is on the phone with Alex saying that he's terrified to dance with Haley, Alex who is back at Harvey's apartment, chastises him for being a little bitch and tell him him take charge and ask her to dance.

"I don't know how to be romantic!"

"Come on Harvey you can't seriously tell me you've never seen a romance movie before!"

"I mean, I saw titanic once with my mom."

"Perfect! Act like Jack!" "You want me to drown myself?" "No! I thought you were smart dude!" "I am but I also have a generalized anxiety disorder and you're freaking me out right now!".

-Harvey is trying his best, God bless him, but Haley can tell he's incredibly nervous since he keeps looking down at their feet and his palms are incredibly sweaty, grossing Haley out.

-Meanwhile Alex is at home cause he's being interviewed by some medical magazine about what it's like to be a doctor in a small town and absolutely failing to say anything interesting or remotely substantial.

-He's barely even trying to hide that he isn't Harvey, he's putting his feet up on the table, eating the whole time, dodging questions and just generally being kind of a dick.

-Alex was very very adamant about not going to Harvey's dance aerobics class since it's obviously a class for chicks 🙄, then when he gets there all the girls are doing just fine during the exercises while he's slowly dying and can't get up.

-Evelynn keeps forcing Harvey to eat, he cannot physically eat any more food but she just keep on giving him more and more. Harvey genuinely wonders how insane Alex's metabolism is since he can eat all of this and not gain a pound.

-i like the idea of Alex passing out in the clinic from the stress of working all day and also being a 40 year old man with back pain so Harvey gives him a little blankie.

-When Shane and Sam are talking at work sam mentions Alex and Harvey have been spending a alot of time together for no reason, Shane just says "Maybe they're gay.", Sam nods agreeingly and says "good for them.".

-I thought of three angsty concepts for this where one involves Harvey thinking about the possibility thay he could just run off and leave Alex in his old body and go live his pilot dreams no that he doesn't need glasses anymore, one where Alex confesses he's been so rude about Harvey's body because being conventionally attractive and fit is all he has, and one where Alex and Harvey are hit with the very real possibility that they might never be able to switch back and Alex will miss out on a huge portion of his life and Harvey will have to relive his all over again.

-Luckily they do get switched back by the end of the day and learn to understand one another better, they might not be friends but they've learned to respect each other a little more and Alex apologizes for saying all that mean shit about Harvey's body.

So yeah, that's about it, I'd like to make a full fanfic or comic out of this but idk, also alternatively I think body swaps between pierra and Morris, sebastian and Demetrius, and Shane and marnie would be very funny.

Thx that's about it.

[arcaneyouth]

I’m sending asks here so I can hide on anon:

What’s the most common phobia ur characters have?

What would be a bad ending™️ for an oc

How would they react to breaking someone else’s thing?

What’s a physical trait they have that you often forget about?

That's! A great question! Not to be boring but probably fear of heights?? At least, that's what gets shown a lot? I mean, I know a lot of my characters have fears that motivate them but none of them really have Phobias because it's usually not relevant. Fear of heights just happens to come into play more often. The only other one I can think of would be fear of needles because I'M terrified of needles and I can and will project that onto all of my characters but also because I'm terrified of needles this will Never Ever Come Up In Any Story Of Mine Ever

Ohoho. This is a rabbit hole I could go down. I've thought about the worst possible endings for every character in The Deathspeaker. And I can't talk about like. Any of them. Too many related spoilers. I'm not worrying about spoilers for In A Manor Of Speaking tho uhhhhhh so Kazooie's worst possible ending would be. Well hold on no, context. So, Kazooie runs a gamer club right that's like the main preface of this story. Amedeo is a member of that gamer club but he's such a shit person that actually badly hurt 2 other members, so the rest of the gamer club voted to have him kicked out. Kazooie and Amedeo are roommates, they live together, they are best fucking friends. Since Kazooie is in charge of the club, he had to make it official that Amedeo got kicked out and wasn't allowed to participate. When Kazooie got home later that day, Amedeo was not at the apartment. And he did not come back for several months. The worst possible ending for Kazooie would be if Amedeo had ended up being killed that night (very real possibility, Vivian's a bitch) and Never came home. Because that would've been All Kazooie's Fault. And I think that'd break him beyond repair. Thank god that never happens, they are hugging all the time

If Dara broke somebody's thing she'd probably just like sweep it under the rug and pretend to be surprised when it's found. Unless it's Joe's because she loves him in which case she'd tell him cause she knows he won't get upset with her, or if it's a very important thing in which case she would try her best to fix it but also still lie about it if anyone asks

I am sorry to all Rowena tooth gap believers I have forgotten her tooth gap so many times at this point I just don't draw it. I'm sorry. She deserves to have it. I will probably never draw it again. Every day I am full of regret.

[camellia-thea]

writing things down because it's the way i process.

i think the thing that's been getting to me lately is that i've hit the "utter despair" stage of depression, where motivation drops because long-term hope has just been dropping so rapidly since i got sick in april.

it's hard to verbalise how i feel and how it's different from before, but i'm worse, and it just makes me think about the future i'd planned, even with my disability in mind, feels so much less sustainable. and in turn, since i feel closer to graduation than before, i'm afraid of what life will look like when i'm not being loaned money to live on. i can't work, i can barely study, and i'm scared. i'm so fucking scared.

i've always hated uncertainty. i hate feeling out of control. and so the thought of not being able to follow plans or even having ideas of what i even can do outside of said plan is being terrifying. it's also infuriating, and frustrating, and deeply upsetting, to think about all the things that could've been. and it's almost ironic, how in an ideal world i would be working. i would be able to follow my passions. but i can't.

and this world is so far from ideal. aotearoa's disability policy is so broken, i've already had a specialist for my condition tell me point blank that, unless i am bedbound permanently, i most likely won't qualify for financial aid. i really didn't want to think about it when it happened, and she was so willing to try other options and try and find support and solutions for me. and at that point, i was pretty sure that i'd be able to work from home and try to freelance. but now it all feels so impossible and uncertain.

and with all of this hopeless fear, it brings the urge to self sabotage. i could just. drop out. i could just. give up on anything that i could try to do to pave my way. it's not necessarily suicidal; i don't want to die. i just. don't want to exist as myself for a bit.

i've always sought out escapism when things get rough. losing myself in books or imaginary worlds. it's so easy to slip into something where everything could be okay, but it always makes coming back worse. it's like seeing the polls about universal basic income, or magically receiving money. it makes me feel a little sick, the things i'd want to do, knowing how impossible it all is. it just makes the inadequacy of our society and our systems more stark in my eyes.

i'm scared about money, and i'm scared about the world moving on without me. i'm scared about never leaving the house again and i'm scared of leaving the house. i'm scared to be a burden but i want to be taken care of. most of all i want to stop worrying. i want security, i want stability, and none of that feels possible.

and i think the worst, most ironic, thing, is being in mental distress triggers my illness even more, which just solidifies my distress into something even more tangible.

[realityremedy]

The other day my mother in law SCREAMED at my wife and I. Screamed. Literally screamed. And swore, though she denies that after the fact. For a good twenty minutes or so.

My wife knows I can't function when someone is screaming at me. I froze and my wife went back at her.

She apologized the next day saying she "should have handled it better" but this is a point of no return for me. If she wasn't my MIL *and* I was not also currently financially dependant on her, I would never speak to her again. Just for that.

She felt like she hadn't been getting any help around the house. She felt like we were leaving things for her to clean. And she felt hurt because we went to Pride while she was getting a minor procedure and felt we didn't care.

Some of that may be valid, some of it definitely is not. But I don't care because it doesn't justify screaming at us. Talk it out before it gets that bad.

Instead of screaming. Instead of stonewalling us for days. Instead of huffing angrily, slamming things, stomping around.

She also complained that she was tired of me speaking to her like she's five years old. I have spent weeks just trying to keep silent as much as possible. I just can't stand fighting. I don't feel like I'm being condescending, but it keeps making her mad. But of course I'm going to slip, and it's not always going to sound nice because I spend all day biting my tongue.

While she was screaming, she gave me a recent example of this. I was taking a hat to Pride I had made for a friend and waited a long time to give to him, since we don't go to the city often.

She asked if she could have it. I said no and explained it was for a friend and I hadn't been able to get it to him for two years.

She asked to have it anyway. I think she was joking but I was annoyed, and it was apparent in my voice when I replied, "If you want one that badly, I'll make a different one for you." And apparently that was talking to her like she was five.

I try to be cautious and self-examine because I don't want to miss something in case I'm actually at fault, but I can only conclude that in her eyes, annoyed/angry/disagreement = attitude/condescension.

In fact it's beginning to feel like if I don't perform being happy every time we talk, then I'm doing something wrong.

So now not only am I trapped with her, I can't do anything except perform happiness or at least neutrality, because I can't leave. I can't let her know I'm angry at her. I can't even effectively avoid her.

I got a few days away from her and it was magical. And now she's back. And she'll go back to screaming at the dogs and cats, which triggers me. She'll go back to being passive aggressive when things don't go her way, and get upset when people disagree with her. She'll go back to expecting everyone to read her mind and exploding at them when they don't. And I'll go back to being terrified of talking, terrified of forgetting to straighten the towel or accidentally leaving a dish somewhere.

The thing that makes it so much worse is that my mom was so similar. (More with the passive aggressiveness, less with the yelling and explosive screaming.) And when we didn't live with my MIL, we actually had a great relationship. It finally felt like I had a mother figure I felt safe and happy with. And it turns out she's the same.

Our relationship was already being slowly worn away by the slamming doors and stonewalling, but the screaming... that was it. I don't think we can unring that bell.

I don't know if that's repairable. It certainly isn't without some serious apologies that I doubt I'm ever going to get. This relationship is dead, but I have to pretend it isn't. And I don't know how long I have to do that. The amount of money we make won't afford us even a damn room in this city, or anything around us. Which is why we moved in in the first place.

I can't do anything but bide my time, potentially for years, until we can get out. I want to cry but it won't work. I feel so hopeless and trapped.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for talking about fnaf to my little cousin?

so fnaf is one of my (im 21) special interests for a while. my little cousin (age 7) has been mentioning it lately, because he heard about it from kids at school. Because of this i've ended up telling him about a lot of the lore and stuff, and trying to explain things to him. Additionally, he asks me questions about fnaf, and I do my best to explain it to him. I also sometimes watch fnaf videos with him.

My mom says i shouldn't do this because he gets scared easily by stuff, and his mom doesn't really like him to see scary stuff. My mom says I shouldnt tell him about fnaf or show him stuff from fnaf.

Both my mom and his mom will go out of their way to hide scary things from him like halloween monster pictures. Part of this is because he got kind of scared of opening doors due to the Doors game on roblox. He is too scared to sleep in his room alone and always sleeps in his mom's bed because he is scared of the dark and has nightmares sometimes. And he wasn't allowed to watch any youtube on halloween because of possibly seeing scary stuff. They think that the scary stuff is what made him scared of the dark and have nightmares, and not be able to sleep in his room alone.

In my opinion, I don't *think* im doing anything wrong, because when I was a kid, fnaf came out, and plenty of kids were into it, and have been ever since. And ever since fnaf, theres been many things inspired by it that kids like. Like poppy playtime and Rainbow Friends and all that. I also loved horror and creepy stuff as a kid. I liked creepypasta, but I can relate to being scared by some of that stuff. As a kid I was really really terrified by the rake creepypasta.

Also in my opinion I think he knows and understands his own limits, because one time we were watching a fnaf video, and he seemed to think the video was too scary and wanted to stop watching it. So we stopped watching it and did something else. And he seemed fine after we stopped didnt seem scared or upset after that. I also feel like in my opinion, explaining the lore to him makes it *less* scary, because he's understanding the "how and why". however because the fnaf lore does involve child death i see how it could be bad for him to learn about it.

He seems to enjoy it though, I'm not forcing it on him and he loves to ask me questions about it, and is excited whenever he comes over to talk about it. Also we've played things together before that are "scary" like baldis basics, and then also a minecraft backrooms game which actually ended up scaring me more than him!

Basically though Am i the asshole for basically going against what my mom and his mom think he should be doing? I can see how his mom especially might think i could be crossing a line because of what she wants for her child. Obviously his mom might know him better because he is her child after all. And because of my autism I don't really understand childcare and childraising. And it is hard for me to understand their perspective. I am still very childlike and dependent on my parents so I don't have a fully formed adult perspective yet I dont think.

But at the same time I almost feel that she is being sheltering, because I've noticed its common for kids to like this sort of thing, and its not always necessarily a bad thing. Because also theres scary movies like coraline but are geared for kids. (My little cousin didnt like coraline, thought it was scary, but thats just an example.)

I feel like also they should trust him more. He seems to know what is too much. Because he is vocal to say what is too scary for him. He seems to be able to set boundaries about it, because he will say that he doesnt want to play a minecraft game that is too scary, or watch a video that is too scary. I'm also rarely the one to pick the games or videos we play, it's his own interest.

Fnaf has been something we both really enjoy, and to me that is special when we get to enjoy something together. I of course still often play with him when its something only he is interested in, but not always. The times I don't play with him are when I'm doing something relating to one of my other special interests and I can't handle being interrupted. Which makes him sad that I can't play but he does understand that because of my autism that it would be difficult on me to stop my activity. I really like that he is into fnaf now because that means its something that I can enjoy for special interest reasons and he gets to hang out and play with me.

But AITA because this is against his mom's wishes?

What are these acronyms?

[justtogetthrough]

I might try a breast reduction again first before committing to top surgery. I'm scared about not knowing what I want and having spent the last 20 years with boobs I'm afraid of change, including what living without dysphoria would feel like apparently. I don't think I feel this kind of dysphoria when they're small though. I feel like the risks and process of surgery are a lot to go through potentially two more times instead of just once more but I have the opportunity to get a breast reduction this summer and up to 50% can be removed and there's a small chance that will make me feel good. There's a bigger chance I won't be satisfied but top surgery will still be an option. My previous reduction was minorly invasive, the worst part was the drains but once they came out recovery was easy. My kid had a much harder time with his top surgery and I feel like it's bc they're not touching my *body* really, they're just sucking out some fat hanging off me. I'm probably going into this too nonchalantly and I will arrange to stay with my parents for the recovery anyway just in case probably, but especially in light of another recent event where I am sure I am not a mentally sound adult who should not be making big decisions, I feel like top surgery falls under a big decision and I need to wait this out and talk to people whereas a breast reduction is a surgery sure and there's risks involved, but it's not irreversible or life changing. I'll still have boobs. And they'll def grow back next time I gain weight. I hate my chest but I like when other people like my chest and so idk... idk. Since I'm gonna sell my house I'll have money for both so why not give another reduction a try. I am honestly terrified of potentially making a huge medical decision during an episode where I've been in crisis for a very long time and I'm so sick of coming out of dissociative episodes being like what the fuck have I done

I'll do the reduction cuz there's no way future me wil be upset about that, unless I have massive complications idk. I'm somewhat worried about my nipples but if they get fucked up I can yeet them in top surgery and get tattoos. There's a real possibility if I got top surgery this year and then it turns out I've been dissociating or this suicidal crisis has compromised my faculties which I know they are already, that I will absolutely lose it and probably sign away my legal and medical autonomy because I can't deal with the things I do whenever I get some money and I've been upset. I probably shouldn't even give myself access to the money I get from selling my house. I have really damaged my own trust in myself because I have such severe dissociation and I wish so hard I could tolerate psychiatrists because I want to see if I have a diagnosable dissociative disorder, outside of the dissociation associated with bpd and ptsd. But no psychiatrist I've tried to meet with will give me the time to tell my story or share my concerns. They only see my existing diagnoses in the referral and tell me that's why I dissociate and shut down the conversation. But I have so much info from my early childhood, from before the ptsd, from before my personality had formed, that I really truly think I've had a dissociative disorder my whole life and my trauma therapist in my 20s thought so too, and he was a gd specialist in trauma and psychosis. But. I'm not willing to put myself in the way of further gaslighting and humiliation so that's not something I'm willing to pursue and I'll always just be like, why is my brain so fucked up? I've never heard of anyone else with ptsd or bpd having episodes like the ones I have. But I guess I'll never find out for sure, so.

[outivv]

Hiya! Your blog aesthetic is so cute!

If you don't mind, can you write for Yae Miko and Lisa dating a s/o that has an absolute fear of getting yelled at? Like the s/o completely disappear/avoid the character when they are in a bad mood, out of fear of getting shouted at. Considering those two can be scary when angry. You can do other character if you want to!

Synopsis: y/n who has a fear of being yelled at

Warnings: yelling, mentions of anger, kind of hinting at possible trauma(?) depends on how you read it tbh, and not proofread

Game/ fandom: genshin impact

Characters: yae miko, and Lisa

Pronouns for reader: gender neutral/ not mentioned

A/n: hello! I am so sorry for lowkey stalling with this request, also thank you I’m glad you like my aesthetic! I’ve changed it a few times since you requested, because I can never just… settle on a layout :’). Anyways! I hope you enjoy, and take care of yourself >:O!

— Yae miko —

You’ve only ever seen yae angry a few times, and it was never directed at you. She’s been frustrated with you sure but she would never, never be angry with you. But, with how she acts towards other people when angry.. it’s… understandable to fear being on the receiving end.

Yae noticed your behavior, she’s no fool, she can easily read others emotions as easily as she can read a children’s book. But, despite that she never said anything, it could simply be that something had happened in the past that made you be easily triggered, upset, anxious, etc when others are angry. She understood, and wouldn’t pry as it wasn’t any of her business.

However, when she came home one night, ranting about some foolish writer she works with she noticed you were afraid of her.

Yae could feel her heart sink as she saw your anxious, and fearful expression, like you were desperate to get away. She knew you’d avoid her when she was upset but she didn’t think it was because you were afraid of her. “I’m… sorry if I frightened you…” she said forgetting all about her stupid coworker. “It’s alright” you responded, your voice barely above a whisper.

Yae sighed, and said, “I hope you know that I would never hurt you.” Her voice was kind, almost motherly as she looked at you with sad eyes, yet a warm smile on her face. Her expression made you relax almost instantly, as you hugged her and said “I know. Yelling just.. bothers me.” Yea hummed in response. She didn’t understand why, but she didn’t have to. “As an apology why don’t I treat you to dinner hm?” She said a sly smile on her face. You chuckled and agreed. She always knew how to turn the mood around to make you feel better.

— lisa —

Lisa can be… terrifying. Able to bully grown men into begging for forgiveness, and she’s only the librarian! Imagine what kind of damage she could do if she was a knight. Imagine what the actual knights like kaeya, jean, amber, etc can do! It’s horrifying to think about, especially after seeing Lisa’s wrath many times when helping her collect overdue books. You’ve seen her torture abyss mages into returning the book they stole, which… you obviously didn’t want to receive that kinda treatment!

Lisa would never harm you, she wouldn’t dare think about it even. You’re too important, and she wants to spend the rest of the life she has to live with you. But, that doesn’t mean you don’t fear her. At least a little bit.

The moment lisa realizes is when she’s yelling at some rude adventurer who refuses to return his book, saying he should get to keep it for all his hard work as an adventurer. The sheer audacity! But, she starts to notice you, standing off the the side trying to avoid the situation, or getting her to calm down.

“Lisa please quiet down a little…” you say your voice sounding like a squeak as you speak. “No! This… jerk! Thinks he can just take whatever he wants and it’ll be fine!” She tells in response making you flinch a little, which doesn’t go unnoticed by lisa. She quickly zaps the guy with her vision, and snatched back the book before dragging you off. She hates using her vision against people but if it must be done... then it must be done.

“Are you alright? Did he frighten you? Did anything happen?” Lisa asked question after question, making sure you were alright. She can become very worried about people, almost like a mom. “I’m fine… just the yelling” you responded, her hands cupping your face as she sighed and kissed your cheek. “I’m sorry if it bothered you… I’ll try to… watch my volume around you.” Lisa often did what she wanted, napping on duty, letting the library become dusty, often just not caring that much. But when it came to you, she would care so much, and go the extra mile if it meant making you happy.

[cruddyborderlandstheories]

Listen I'm just saying the parallels between Dahl and their workers in BL1 and the Eridians and their Guardians are awesome and if Gearbox decides to make the Eridians sympathetic/Good Guys in BL4 instead of showing the Guardians are right to be Very Angry, man... I'll actually be so upset, such wasted potential on throwing out an overarching story that could parallel the first game in the series

Like I'm certain the Eridians aren't 'dead' it feels so ummm... stupid. Yeah. For an entire group of people who can jump dimensions to decide 'yeah we're all gonna die to close this one Vault on a giant monster that's terrified of eridium' when we've never heard of them dying to close Vaults before (that said I would still not be surprised if Eridium/Core/etc were all condensed souls, but that's not been confirmed yet so... Magic radiation rocks from another dimension. Yep.) also like 'ooo we had to power the machine with our blood oooo'. why tho. YOU built it. Make it run off crystals like the rest of ur shit. Seems like you just wanted an excuse to never return.

Also I am still of the belief the Eridians created the Vault Monsters themselves for whatever reason. Fucked up science, to see if they could rather than should, probably. It could be another parallel to the mega corps in-universe (Jakobs in BoB is the most recent example and A Big One). Funny how core acts just like eridium and produced a very Vault Monster lookin thing and mutates people it's around (and also is heavily radioactive like holy shit lol). Like. Yeah they probably created the Destroyer and it mightve been more effective than they bargained for, which is why they made The Big Vault, but also. If you're gonna die to close this thing... Maybe destroy the key. Or put the key somewhere fucking else. Why did it have to be right there. Zarpedon knew what was up by trying to destroy Elpis, and the Watcher just let her fucking die. Soooooo.......

Nekrotefeyo means First Landing or whatever. And when you go into the Machine the area names are pretty weird like iirc one of them is Hearth, you know, like Home. I think they just used the machine to go back to their home dimension or whatever, leaving the Guardians to endlessly work with no communication. It's a slight difference from why Dahl withdrew, but still very much parallels what they both did to their workers. Just abandoned them.

With regards to humanity and shit, I still think they lied to Nyriads face, I still think humanity as a whole was made/heavily influenced by them (the mural in the Vaults), ((I mean earth is iirc not canon by word of god and Tannis even jokes about saturn being a nonsense word. Which, even if the planet didn't exist/wasn't important enough, you'd think she would know since it's originally Roman. The line is from the Raid on Digistruct Peak when the 2 Saturns spawn on top of you and you can Zer0 B0re their butts. You can argue that the game is just THAT Far into the future that we lost a majority of humanity's history, but. I feel like with the ECHOnet that would've been so hard to do if it's a divergence from modern day... I just think it's completely different from our worlds human history/development, meaning anything could be possible. I'm getting off topic and this will probably never actually be acknowledged, but the point stands. I think the Eridians were directly involved with either creating humanity (free will > Guardians) or in their development in a big way and that's what The Forgetting was really all about. Nyriad: "already humans are forgetting we lived side by side with these people 🥺" Alright and what else have you guys forgotten bc ppl don't just forget shit like that in the span of a human lifetime so... What's going on there.)) and a lot of weird shit, like sirens, were Eridian experiments for whatever reason. I am torn between them making humanity as the second generation of Guardians and Sirens are just another variation/upgrade, like how there are the drone Guardians, then the few we meet that have sentience (the Watcher, the Martyr (Scourge), the Overseer, the Seer), and this whole thing just being a fucked up experiment to see what will happen.

Like. Okay. Our souls/spirits/ghosts look a LOT like Guardian souls do. Those little wisp things you can zoom in with the scope of the Eridian tech gun to see actual human spirits. Nekrotefeyo looks like it has giant wisps coming out the middle. We've seen Vault Monsters inhale these giant wisps, esp with Graveward implying it was being controlled by the previously fought Guardians Grave and Ward, and the Rampager, that inhales them to mutate itself further/gain power (and is also protected by Guardians, which, you'd think if it was a Vault Monster that was supposed to be locked away, that they would be attacking it... But no!) and we know Guardians themselves can be possessed by other felled Guardians because their bodies are just shells, and their spirits are all stored elsewhere. (I think they're stored in Nekrotefeyo but that's just me).

Sirens are also known to absorb these Guardian wisps, with the most notable example being Tannis absorbing the wisps right out of Graveward so Tyreen can't 'eat'. Speaking of Tyreen, she absorbs a wisp from Lilith- at the end of the game when she's defeated the wisp returns to Lilith and she *gets her powers back*. So Tyreen absorbs wisps from people. I think a great study would be to hang out in the death dimension we visit during GLaT and see if the people Tyreen kills via phaseleech ever actually show up there. If not, we can safely assume she's eating their essences (their wisps) and the reason she didn't outright kill Lilith the first time is because she absorbed her first wisp (her powers) and not the second one (her spirit/lifeforce/whatever you want to call it).

I think that would also tie into sirens being able to send off their powers when they die, because they're two different wisps inhabiting the same body, and possibly also why they're drawn to Pandora. Guardians can repossess other vessels when they die, so sirens are able to do the same thing, but only with their powers... Also the Vaults are openings into the other dimension, like some siren powers (Phaselock and Phasewalk), and if those power wisps are Eridian in nature/by creation then it makes sense that they're drawn to those openings, and with the biggest one being Pandora with the eridium shell, it makes sense that they'd all be drawn to that specific one.

Also yeah getting power ups via eridium I don't think is a coincidence either. The Destroyer does, too, it's how you progress the plot in tps. The poor eye even shows obvious fear when you go to inject it with eridium. Poor little dude, what did the Eridians do to you :( Also, side note, Maya's Phaselock terrifying everyone locked in it... Except psychos and lab rats. Lab rats experimented on with slag/eridium by Hyperion and psychos being driven insane by being on Pandora (it's canon that being near Eridian ruins for too long can literally drive you mad, Commander Lilith with Hector and his crew's echo logs, and also BL1 Sledge's mine lore). I guess that's what happens when you witness math done in other dimensions.

Lowkey kinda disappointed we will probably never know what Krieg's reaction would be to getting Phaselocked. Like. He'd have a buffer, he'd probably be able to at least semi-explain what he sees. I don't think gearbox remembers or cares that they gave the labrats and psychos unique dialogue to getting Phaselocked, though.

So, anyway, it's kind of suspicious to me that the Guardians (Eridian-made) and humans (?????) are so similar regarding their 'souls/essences/whatever'. I mean, there is a literally a death dimension where you can see dead people and their memories, and an gun modified with ERIDIAN TECH that lets you see ghosts out of wisps. Horror movie references or not, that's pretty intense. Not to mention the fact that humans literally can be considered Guardians as proven by the Guardian takedown/the trials when the crystals recognize two humans and a Siren as Guardians (and a robot, just like the other existing Guardians and I'm also not entirely convinced Fl4k isn't just foreshadowing about the Guardians gaining sentience since they're both robots being forced to work stupid, menial tasks)

So if Gearbox is like "wellllll a majority of the Guardians just want to kill you guys soooooo yeah they're the main villains of BL4 now". I'm gonna be so mad.

Because, yeah!! But so did the bandits in BL1 and who was the real main villain all along? Atlas! The mega corporation! Potentially a parallel to the seraphs if the Eridians are Dahl, who, I haven't mentioned this entire post because!! We have no lore!!!!! On them!!! Beyond 'Fear Their Return'. Potential upper dimension alien clash to mirror the stupid corporate wars that destroy people's livelihoods, potential explanation for all the sciencing going on by the Eridians, etc etc.

And we all can agree that Dahl is THE asshole in BL1 right?! Like they ditched everyone on Pandora, they're the reason everyone is suffering, and they're a direct parallel to the Eridians. Yeah, ditch all your workers in an unsafe place and don't give them any further communication or extraction. No wonder the Guardian that watched Nyriad help the Eridians ditch everybody just stared and watched. They were probably like 'hey what the actual fuck'.

Yeah. Some of the bandits try to kill you and they're not good people, but there are still some good people left on Pandora! Same with the Guardians with the Watcher and potentially the Overseer (idk what her deal is, trying to trick us into becoming 'Guardians', like girlie we have free will. Yeah you're mad the Eridians 'left house' but like. Let us help you instead of you trying to trick us into your job. No quarter, my ass. Also can we talk about how she directly references the Eridians watching us like.... 'Eridians doing this all for a science experiment and watching over us from another dimension' theory, go!!!!) also yeah the seer is probably one of the Guardians who was supposed to make sure everything went according to the Eridians plan. Her and the Watcher.

Who, yeah Omg the Watcher lol. The implications of her only showing up during TPS, lol. If she actually wanted to stop the Vaults from being opened, she would have appeared in bl2. In tales. In 1, even. But no. She doesn't. She protects zarpedon, but then lets her die to the VHs and Jack, lets her give up where the Vault of Elpis actually IS, and doesn't even appear in Bl3 to stop Pandora from being opened. Nah, she WANTED this to happen. And listening to the Seer... She's mad because Lilith fucked up their plans with the moon full letting the Destroyer out, not because the twins opened the Vault. Don't forget the Watcher says we're going to specifically need Vault Hunters for an upcoming war. You know, the people who exist to open Vaults and fight the monsters inside? Yeah, those guys. They're needed for a war.

My overall theory is that the Guardians are trying to get as many Vault Monsters into play as possible so they can possess them. So, they're probably going to be the 'Bandits' of BL4 and the Vault Monsters possessed by them will be the bosses. And then, like in BL1, there will be the Atlas shift, but it will either be the Eridians coming to put a stop to things or the Seraphs doing whatever it is they're doing. I think/hope we will be teamed up with a main 'group' of Guardians that don't want the other Guardians killing off humanity (did I mention I think the Guardians are jealous of humans bc of their free will yet? I definitely should have by now) so that they can get the Eridians attention. Maybe the twist can be that they get the wrong person's attention and the Seraphs show up, not the Eridians. If the seraphs even ARE separate from the Eridians, given how much they seem to LOVE their angel imagery with the Guardian names (again... Another point towards the whole 'Eridians created/helped develop humanity as a whole').

All this hinges on the idea that gearbox isn't a coward and actually, genuinely, killed off the Eridians. Because come on... The potential of bringing the Eridians back from their fake death is immense. A whole wizard of Oz thing where we reveal the man behind the curtain is the Eridians all along, lying to us every step of the way. A reason for us to sympathize with the Guardians. A callback to borderlands 1, the start of the series, the heart of 'fuck these mega corporations always screwing over their workers'. Imagine the shock (and let's be real, hilarity) of realizing these mystical alien guys are actually just underpaid, overworked scientists working for some upper dimension mega corporation because capitalism has no bounds.

I mean, the games even consider Eridian to be a corporation. Just check out any Eridian gear from the games (guns, artifacts/relics, etc) and see their name where the corporation title should be. I also think it would be very in character for a borderlands game to have this 'mysterious entity' that is taken seriously throughout the entire series and just have it turn out to be yet another fucking corporation all along. A sorta subversion of the whole 'their reasons for doing what they do are above humanity and their petty squabbles' trope that a lot of these 'ancient aliens before our time' games have. 'Fear their return' because they're another mega corp fucking shit up for the common man, god damn it, can't we just catch a fucking break.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 9 - FINALE)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 7.2k

warnings: smut (oral f receiving), semi-public sex (in a parked car) angst, arguments, implied smut, sappiness, time skips, some alcohol consumption here and there, lots of talking about issues including bucky's ptsd, I really have no idea how to warn for this but IT’S THE END SO STRAP IN FOLKS

Since that night, it had been like a stand-off in a Western movie, none of you saying anything because you had no idea what to say. Whenever he tried to start the conversation, you brushed him off.

You took a cab home from the event. He slept in his own room for the first time in months.

Finally, suddenly, you were ready to talk about it nearly 30 hours later, knocking on the guest room door and entering to find Bucky on his bed, re-reading Flowers for Algernon. He sat up quickly and shut it, setting it aside. “Hey,” he greeted softly, hesitant like you were a deer in a clearing and he was extending a handful of grain in his palm.

“Hey,” you returned, already fighting back your emotions. “I think I’m ready to talk.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’m ready to listen.”

“I just… I want to make sure that you understand this is a really big deal.”

He nodded again.

“I had to do a lot of damage control to prevent being banned from all HFPA events— that includes the Golden Globes, you know, I can’t exactly skip those just because my boyfriend went fucking nuts at a party.” And there was the anger again— you had tried to wait until you could be neutral about this but it barely lasted, mainly because you were still embarrassed about the way you’d handled yourself that night. “You’re lucky not many people saw; you’re lucky no reporters were there! Can you imagine if someone had a fucking picture of this? There were cameras everywhere, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking!” he defended. “I saw you with him and he was touching you and I just… I saw red.”

You sighed slowly. “That’s not a good thing. That’s really, really concerning.”

“I know, I agree— you’re right. I need…” he trailed off, taking a breath before starting over. “I need to work on that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I just… I can’t really be a part of that. You need to work on that on your own.”

He stood up instantly, almost looking… afraid? Terrified, really, and heartbroken. “On my own, like what? What does that mean?”

“It means that I think maybe you should go back to your own apartment for a while. I just… need to be alone for a bit.”

“You need to be alone?” he repeated. “Or you need to be away from me?’

“Both.”

His head fell into his hands instantly. "Please don't tell me I fucked this up," he whimpered. "Please don't tell me I ruined this."

"I— I don't know."

"Please, please, please," he sighed, just louder than a whisper, suddenly stepping forward, grabbing your hand and clutching it to his chest. "Look at me," he begged.

You did, hesitantly, fighting everything in you that wanted to cry (and not doing so good of a job at it).

"Please, I lo—"

"Don't," you grimaced. "Don't say that."

"But it's true."

"It doesn't matter!" you yelped, surprising both of you with your volume.

“Are we going to have a chance to talk about this again? Am I going to get a chance to make it up to you?”

“You don’t make it up to me, you fix it. And that takes time.”

He shook his head, looking shocked and confused and completely blindsided which made you feel sick to your stomach. “How long?”

“I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“Am I not going to see you at all, for however long it takes?” he pressed.

“I… that’s sort of the idea.”

He shivered and pulled you into a hug. “Please don’t hate me forever,” he whispered against the top of your head.

“I don’t hate you,” you promised, doing your best not to hug him back even though all you wanted was to wrap yourself around him and feel safe in his arms again.

“Then don’t make me go,” he pleaded as he pulled back, clutching your face. “Let me stay and we can work through this together.”

“That’s not how this works,” you reminded him

“But I don’t know how to be without you,” he explained shakily.

“That’s not really my problem!” you yelped, and he turned away like he’d been slapped, dropping his hands from your face. A long, heavy silence fell between you as you watched him stand there, contemplating.

“If this is my last chance,” he finally spoke softly, barely breaking the silence, “to say everything I want to say…”

“It’s not,” you assured. “We’re going to talk about this again, but you need to go now.”

He nodded, his adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow of nothing. When he looked at you again, you hated how much bluer his eyes looked when they were bloodshot and filled with tears. “Can I kiss you?”

You shook your head. He bit his lip and turned to walk away; you stared at your feet because you couldn’t watch him go.

You heard him grab his backpack, shoving a few things from the drawers into it; he set his key on the table, walked into the open hall, and as soon as you heard the front door open and shut you were plunged into solitude and silence. With a whimper, you crumpled to the floor and cried, the look of betrayal on his face burned into your mind.

It was obvious, to your horror, that he really hadn’t seen it coming; he hadn’t packed his things, or prepared in any way for the conversation going like that. He had been waiting for an olive branch and got a switch to the face instead. You didn’t know anything about working on relationships, repairing broken things… when something went wrong, all you knew how to do was bail.

You knew how to do a new take and say the line right this time. You knew how to take off your eyeliner and start over. You knew how to kick unsuspecting C-listers out of cars because you already got yours. But you didn’t know how to stay, and work, and frankly you were just too scared to try. Last time you tried to make it work, you got burned. And as much as a logical part of you knew that wasn’t Bucky’s fault or responsibility, your heart just couldn’t survive another relationship where you put everything into putting the pieces back together while the other person stood there and watched you just to pull them apart again.

It had to end at some point, right? It was you, it was him… and that’s just how these things go.

//

He knew it was too good to be true. He knew you were too good for him. Anybody with at least one eyeball and half a brain could see that. But still, he hadn’t been ready to let you go.

Being in his apartment felt like stopping in a ghost town; there might as well have been a tumbleweed rolling through the living room. It was beyond a bachelor pad: it was more like an unfinished work site, considering his ‘couch’ was cinderblocks and a few two-by-fours, and his bed was a mattress on the floor.

One toothbrush. No books. A half-empty shampoo bottle in the shower and some hard water stains he needed to scrub away at some point.

This place didn’t feel like a home, it barely felt like a livable space. It was a three-dimensional homage to how empty his life had been before you, and he realized that was only his own fault.

Then again, this was all his fault.

But still, he had let himself obsess over you, turn you into his whole world and it made him into somebody he didn’t want to be. He had been working so hard to keep you happy, inspired more than anything by his fear to lose you, that he’d forgotten to give you space and now here he was… giving you so much more space than he ever wanted to, or knew how to deal with.

But he wanted to use this, if he could. As much as it was tempting to binge on junk food, drink too much and watch porn for an hour, as much as he wanted to run away from everything he was feeling, he owed it to you and to himself to face it all and learn from it. He wanted to be the man you deserved, if that was even humanly possible; he wanted to be who you used to think he was.

//

The next week went by in a blur: a blur filled with shitty romcoms, Ben & Jerry’s straight from the carton, and phone calls ignored.

It would all be fine with time, you knew that, but god, it fucking hurt now. It made you want to call him and at least apologize for having sex with him when you knew he wouldn’t have wanted to if he knew you were upset. More time and distance from the situation made you appreciate that it was manipulative, even if it by no means justified the way he grabbed you, or shoving anybody in the first place.

Truth was, you were scared of Bucky long before that happened. You were scared of how strong your feelings were for him; and, in turn, you were scared of how strong his feelings were for you. You felt loved by him, and you didn’t know what to do with that. So you self-destructed.

Just in time to tear you out of your spiralling thoughts, the intercom buzzed from the front gate. You furrowed your brow, wondering who it could be, and got up to check the camera feed.

You couldn’t see the face of the driver, just his arm, but you’d recognize that Rolex on his wrist anywhere.

“What do you want?” you asked coldly, holding down the intercom talk button.

"Let me in," Sam instructed.

"And why should I?"

"Cause if you don't, I'll press charges against your boyfriend."

BEEP BEEP BEEP! the gate announced its opening.

You took the time while he parked his car and walked to the door to throw out the wrappers from all your questionable “meals” (i.e., candy and ramen), change into slightly nicer sweats and splash your face so you looked slightly less dead. Just as you came downstairs from your rushed primping, Sam knocked on the door and you turned off the TV, tossing the remote aside. “It’s open!” you called out.

He turned the knob and stepped in with just one foot, peering around.

“Is the Terminator home?” he asked coyly. “Cause I actually think I’ve been assaulted enough for one week.”

“No, he’s gone. And don’t call him that.”

“What?” he shrugged, finally coming all the way in and letting the door swing shut on its own, taking his shades off and sliding them into the collar of his v-neck shirt. “It’s a compliment, and you really invite the killer robot comparisons when you’re part robot, look like a killer, and act like a thug.”

“He’s sensitive about the arm, okay? It’s one of the reasons he… it’s part of why we waited so long to go public.”

Sam glanced down to beside the door, where three pairs of your shoes were haphazardly lined up while his boots were noticeably absent. “And the fact that he’s moved out? When’s that gonna go public?” He always had an eye for these things, the bastard.

“I… I don’t know,” you sighed. “What do you want, exactly? Because honestly, I really can’t handle you right now.”

“I’m just trying to be a friend,” he explained, stepping closer again as you leaned against the breakfast bar.

“You seemed a lot more than friendly on Saturday,” you reminded him. “God, Sam, why did you have to do that?”

“So it’s my fault, then?” he rolled his eyes.

“No, of course not,” you assured, “but you knew I wasn’t single. I was actually happy… did you even want me back? Or did you just want to fuck with my life?”

“I did want you back, really.” He paused for a moment, more serious than he almost ever got. “I still do.”

You scoffed, looking away. “What happened to just being a friend?”

“That’s not why I’m here, this time. I’m just here to tell you that I’m worried about you.”

You took your weight off the bar and circled it into the kitchen, Sam mirroring you by following around the other side. “Do you want something to drink?” you asked, opening the fridge. He opened his mouth to answer but then leaned in as he stared at your hand where it was right in front of his face gripping the refrigerator’s door handle.

"He did that to you?" Sam pointed to the bruise on your wrist. You let go of the fridge and pulled your sleeve down to cover it again but that was answer enough. "Jesus, babe, this guy's fucking crazy."

"He's not crazy, and don't call me that," you frowned. "I don't think he meant to, really— his prosthetic is powerful and it was in need of a recalibration. He shouldn’t have grabbed me, but, he probably didn’t mean to do it so hard.”

Sam didn’t seem too convinced by that explanation, but didn’t say anything.

“Believe it or don’t, Sam, but either way it’s none of your business,” you frowned.

“Right, I know,” he nodded. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“And that’s you?” you pressed with an incredulous raised brow, opening the fridge again to grab yourself a green juice (because you were, again, trying to look like you had your shit together) and starting to walk away.

“I’ve changed, believe it or not,” he explained as he followed you out of the kitchen again. “Occasionally, people are capable of that.”

“If that’s true, then I owe it to Bucky to wait for him like I said I would,” you shot back. “I told him to leave so we could work on things separately. Not so I could entertain your come-to-Jesus moment.”

“It’s not a ‘come-to-Jesus’ moment, it’s just a ‘give me another chance’ moment,” he corrected as you took a long sip of the juice, “it’s a ‘maybe we ended things too soon’ moment.”

You looked at him in silent judgment as you kept drinking, and the way he was looking at you made you glad the glass bottle was keeping your lips occupied.

“It’s an ‘I’m still in love with you’ moment.”

Before you could stop yourself, you spit the juice right onto him, covering your mouth in shock just a moment too late.

For one of those indefinite moments, you were just staring at each other while you both contemplated that you had said he loved you and you had spat juice onto him.

“Okay, I was prepared to get shot down,” he admitted. “This is… worse.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, trying not to laugh, “I… I’ll get some paper towels, I can get you a new shirt, but it’ll have to be one of the ones Bucky left behind…”

“Oh god, it’s sticky,” he grimaced, as he tried to peel his shirt from his skin, “can I just use your shower maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you nodded, “upstairs and down—”

“I remember where it is,” he reminded you as he stepped past you to make his way to the bathroom. “I knew I should’ve waited to say it until she was done drinking…” you heard him mumble to himself before he disappeared and you heard the bathroom door shut.

But truthfully, it wasn’t really the fact that he said it, or the concept of Sam loving you at all that made you spit out your drink. It was that when he said it, you realized you were in love with Bucky. Which, yes, would’ve been obvious to anyone else but it came as quite a shock to you.

It made you realize that you wanted to make this work. You wanted to be vulnerable, you wanted to try, even if it ended just as badly as it nearly had last week; even if it meant dealing with all the shit that you’d pushed down for so long.

You wanted to have another chance, this time knowing how hard it would be to be without him.

Just as you pondered what to do with that realization, a knock at the door startled you. Who could have made it to the door without buzzing the intercom?

Somebody who has the gate code already, you realized, and your heart sank. You weren’t ready to see him again— specifically, you weren’t ready to be seen by him again. Sure, cleaning up the trash and splashing your face was enough for a guest like Sam, but you had been imagining that when you saw Bucky again you’d be all dolled up looking like you were doing better than ever, like you were thriving without him just to rub it in that you were the best he ever had.

Couldn’t he have just waited a few hours after your realization so you could go to him on your own terms, with your whole speech prepared and everything? As an actress, you were much more comfortable reading lines than improvising.

Another knock made you sigh and set down the half-empty bottle of green juice, running up to the door to answer it.

“Hi,” he greeted soberly when you opened the door.

“Hey,” you nodded back, “listen, now’s not a great time…”

“Listen, I’m not here to cause any problems, or ask you for anything, I just need some of my stuff back,” he explained.

“Okay, it would’ve been better if you had come at another time—”

“I know, I’m not trying to invade your space,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have used the gate code, I didn’t mean to surprise you, honestly it was just second nature but I realize now I should’ve called first— well, I don’t think you’re taking my calls right now—”

“Bucky, please, we can talk later,” you assured, trying to shut the door.

“Can we?” he sighed. “I mean, will we?”

“Yes, but I’m busy right now,” you explained.

“When?” he asked, voice full of hope. “Soon?”

“I— I don’t know, sure,” you shrugged.

“You’re just saying that to get me to leave,” he realized flatly. “I understand, I don’t blame you— god, I just hate how scared you are of me. I’m everything I never wanted to be. I just wanted to keep you safe and now I can’t even do that, now you think of me as a threat. You should have the gate code changed, if it’ll make you sleep better—”

“I sleep fine, just go and we’ll deal with all of this soon— really, I promise!”

“You promised before and this week without you has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!” he returned, getting more emotional as he gestured with his hands. “I’m not saying this should all go away in a week, there’s so much more I have to do, but… but not being able to see you at all is killing me. And it’s not like I don’t see you, your movies are on every fucking channel, but you know, I don’t get to really see you, talk to you— that’s what I miss, I miss when we would talk for hours.”

“I miss that too,” you agreed, “it’s all going to happen, it’s just that I need you to go right now—”

And of course, Sam picked just the right time to come running down your staircase with only a towel around his waist.

Bucky tensed up as he saw Sam, jaw tightening. "Oh."

You had no idea what would happen. Was Bucky going to attack him again? Would Sam try to hit Bucky? Were you going to drop dead from sheer embarrassment?

Instead, Bucky just sighed a little and looked to the ground, almost laughing though he seemed anything but amused. “You’ve got a funny idea of what ‘being alone’ means,” he sneered.

“Sam was just—” you began to defend.

"No, it’s okay, I see how it is," Bucky informed you quietly, coldly. He didn’t even seem angry anymore, just defeated. "I'll leave. I'm sorry that I… I'm sorry."

And he turned to leave, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, it's not—"

He shrugged your hand away as he kept walking, forcing you to chase him.

"Don't leave, please— Bucky, I love you too."

He stopped, but didn't turn around yet; you just stood behind him, staring at his back as it rose and fell with a slow breath. When he looked back at you, his eyes were red, brimming with tears and heartbreak. "Don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it," you promised.

“And what does that mean for us?”

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted.

“I don’t think I’m ready to come back yet. As much as I miss living with you— and as much as my apartment is so gross—”

You giggled a little, glad you could laugh with him again even if just for a second.

“I need more time. I’m not going to subject you to me until I know I can be… stable, again.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Whatever you need.”

“But maybe we could… go out sometime? Somewhere where there aren’t paparazzi, ideally?”

“Uh, Vermont?” you offered jokingly. “I’ll find somewhere, though. We’ll talk this all out.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing a little. “Okay.”

With obvious hesitance, he leaned in slightly and gave you a kiss on the forehead. You wanted more than anything to get up on your tiptoes and kiss his lips, but it was probably too soon. He smiled down at you slightly before he turned to walk away, and you did the same as you made it back into the house.

“Hey, listen,” you began as you found Sam still waiting in a towel looking completely lost.

“That doesn’t sound like the beginning of good news,” he sighed.

“I’m so glad you were honest with me and I’m still really sorry for spitting on you, and for Bucky shoving you, and for everything awful that went down between us. And some part of me is always gonna love you, but—”

“I know,” he nodded, clearly disappointed but resigned in a peaceful way. “It’s okay. I had my chance, I blew it, and if this Bucky guy has his then I just hope he isn’t taking it for granted.”

You smiled a little. “He’s not.”

“Then I’ll get dressed and go. Please direct me to his favorite shirt, so that I may steal it,” he requested formally, making you laugh, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet; instead, you stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re a good friend, Sam,” you mumbled against his bare chest.

“Yeah, kinda wish I wasn’t though,” he sighed as he hugged you back.

“Kinda wish I’d made you get dressed before hugging you,” you admitted, the awkwardness of his nudity finally catching up with you.

“Yeah…” he agreed in a whispered sigh.

//

His palms were actually sweaty; well, at least one of them was. He hadn’t been this worked up about a date since high school.

But there was so much more riding on that now than there was then. If he blew this, you probably would dump him for good, and he’d become ‘that guy Y/N Y/L/N dated for a minute’ to the rest of the world.

And there was so much more to him than that— he was learning to really let that shine after three weeks of therapy on Mondays and Thursdays— and so much more to his relationship with you, but it would still be pretty humiliating. More importantly, he would be heartbroken if he never got a chance to hold you again, kiss you again, tell you he loved you not during a fight…

His eyes glanced to the door instinctively when someone stepped in, but it still wasn’t you. He checked his watch and closed his eyes: it was still a few minutes early, you probably wouldn’t be here until 6:30, since that was when you’d agreed to meet when you discussed all this over text. But the length of time between 6:27 and 6:30 just seemed to keep getting longer and longer.

When you finally walked in, it was like one of those movie moments where everything slowed down, the ambient noise and background music faded away, and all he could see was you. If this was it, at least he got to see you like this one last time.

He waved you over, watching you walk closer and feeling his heart race as you pulled him into a hug.

“I missed you,” he blurted out right away.

“Missed you too,” you mumbled back, pulling from the embrace as he moved to pull out your chair for you.

“So,” he began as he sat down, “do you… want me to go first? Or do you want to go first?”

“I love you,” you said instantly, and he couldn’t fight a wide smile.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” you grinned, “I think you should go first.”

“Well, now that you say that suddenly I forget everything I’ve been practicing in the mirror all day,” he chuckled. “I already told you I’ve been in therapy, and they finally got me on stuff for my PTSD… it feels weird to say it, to talk about it like I really have it… but I do, and I’m working on not being ashamed of that. What I am ashamed of is the way I treated you that day, how I let my anger get the best of me and how I hurt you when you’re the most important person in my life. You didn’t deserve that. And if I haven’t said it enough, I’m truly sorry.”

“I know,” you nodded, “thank you. I’m glad you’re getting help… I don’t want to see you like that for your own sake, too.”

“Just because you don’t hate me doesn’t mean you have to forgive me. And just because you forgive me doesn’t mean you have to take me back,” he reminded you softly.

“But I do forgive you, and I do want you back,” you promised. “And I want to apologize, too, for the things I did wrong… obviously it’s basically impossible for me to hurt you physically, you’re so much stronger than I am, but I hurt you with how I handled some things and I regret that.”

“It did hurt, but I still reacted poorly at basically every turn. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous of Sam in the first place, if you and him have something going on then that’s none of my business—”

“Of course it’s your business, Bucky, you’re my boyfriend!” you laughed. “You don’t need to be jumping for joy when I talk to my ex, you just need to not be that aggressive about it.”

“Am I your boyfriend?” he asked sheepishly. “Is he your ex?”

"When you came over the other day, and he was there… nothing happened, really. He came over, I told him I didn't want to be anything more than friends, he asked to use my shower… I don't know how to prove it to you—"

"You don't have to," he shook his head. "If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened."

“I mean, we hugged,” you remembered. “And he took your Fleetwood Mac shirt.”

“He what?” Bucky yelped, but then calmed himself down immediately. “Whatever, it’s fine, the point is that I have a lot of shit I still need to work on. Because the truth is, you’re not mine—”

“No, I—”

“Really, you’re not. You’re your own person. That’s what made me fall in love with you in the first place, I love that you’re independent and strong and… maybe a little crazy, but you’re exactly who you need to be. You don’t belong to me.”

“I don’t mind belonging to you as long as it’s fair, Bucky; as long as we belong to each other.”

“Sweetheart, you always had me,” he laughed. “From day one.”

“Then let’s figure your shit out. Believe it or not, I’ve got shit too… commitment issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues—”

“Ooh, I have that one too!” he beamed, making you laugh. “You know, when I was talking to my therapist, she had me do this thing where I talked about my hopes and stuff and, I don’t know, maybe it’s dumb but I wanted us to do that. I want to know what you’re hoping for for this.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “well, I’m hoping that you’ll move back in soon but not right away, maybe in a few months? I want us to get better at being apart, it’ll come in handy when I have to go to far off places for filming and stuff.”

“Totally with you,” he agreed, “might have to start buying some real furniture for my place though.”

“What about you?” you prompted.

“I’m hoping that you still think I'm cute enough to put up with some of my crap," he smirked, "if not all of it."

"Definitely," you grinned.

“I’m hoping that in the future, if you’re upset, you’ll tell me and we can work it out, and then have make-up sex," he added.

“Deal,” you chuckled.

“And, if I’m being honest,” he continued, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, “I’m hoping that I can take you home tonight.”

It was so simple, but it made a shiver run down your spine. This distance had caused more than just your heart to grow fonder, and you were craving his touch more than ever. “Where’s home?” you asked coyly.

“It’s wherever you wanna go,” he purred. “Your place, my place, the back of your car—”

“That one,” you nodded eagerly, “definitely that one.”

//

You wanted to go right then and there but he made you sit through the whole dinner, with all the trappings of wining and dining, though for you it sometimes felt more like whining and dying because you needed him so bad you couldn't think. But he stayed patient, keeping up the conversation, asking more about a new project you were tentatively linked with, telling you more about the newest improvements to his prosthetic.

He picked up the check, which was absurd to you but he insisted, and escorted you to your car as if his intentions were just gentlemanliness even though you knew it was far worse than that.

He (gently) pinned you up against the side of the car, kissing you slowly, making you melt like it was no effort for him at all. As his lips made their way to your ear, he whispered to you darkly, "get in the back and spread your legs for me."

You were sure you'd never obeyed an instruction so fast, hopping in and happily watching him climb in behind you. He instantly knelt down between your spread legs, holding you by your thighs as he pushed your dress up, and you were already lifting your hips up to let him pull your panties down to your ankles.

"So eager," he whispered happily, kissing his way up one of your legs and never breaking his gaze away from yours. Your mouth fell slack as you watched him get higher and higher, closer to where you were already dripping with need. "Been wanting to do this since that night, however many months ago, where I had to watch somebody else do this to you," he admitted with a grin that nipped at your inner thighs. "I know I've tasted you a thousand times since then, but I wanted to do it here."

There was a lot you could say to that, but it was all lost to a gasp as he licked one long, thin stripe right across your entrance and over your clit. Already you were shaking and grabbing his hair— he'd grown it out just enough that you could really dig your fingers into it, but even so he kept his teasing pace.

He kept going, that slow and torturous cycle where just as your clit got some much-needed attention, he started back over at your leaking opening again.

"The fuck are you doing down there, trying to figure how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop?" you finally groaned, making him chuckle at how demanding you'd become.

"I'm just making sure I do this right," he dismissed. "Want more, baby?"

"Please," you shuddered. "Need your tongue inside me."

He grinned and put you out of your misery, really latching his lips onto you now as he pushed his tongue inside and curled it against your g-spot. It was enough to make your back arch dramatically and your fingers clench on his hair, a little growl echoing out of his mouth and into your body in response.

Your legs were accidentally clamping down on his head each time he sucked on your clit, but he didn't seem to mind, if anything it egged him on.

"C-close, so close," you chanted our warning as his hands tightened on your thighs he gave wide laps to your throbbing button.

"Say you love me baby," he mumbled his demand against your skin.

"Bucky, yes, I love you," you whimpered. "Love you so much, fuck, I'm gonna come…"

He nodded as he wrapped his lips around your clit and kept sucking, harder than ever, until your whole body was literally quaking and you weren't sure if you had closed your eyes or if your vision just went black for a second. As if that weren't enough, he kept going until you had to push him off of you by his forehead, shivering and catching your breath as aftershocks rocked your body.

"You're so amazing," he groaned huskily as he sat up and pulled you into a rough kiss, the taste of your pleasure coating your tongue as it tangled with his. Just as you were about to reach down and attempt to operate his belt buckle with your tingling fingers, he pulled back from the kiss a moment too soon. "And now you get to drive yourself home," he grinned, patting you on the cheek reassuringly.

"What? That's it?!" you squawked.

"You just came so hard you nearly blacked out and you're asking me if that's it?" he smirked incredulously.

"I just thought you would want to, you know… go all the way," you explained, cringing at the immature phrase.

"Hey, I'm a gentleman, and this is still our first date," he reminded you.

"But aren't you, you know…?"

"Oh, I am," he nodded quickly, leaning in to bite at your neck. "Don't worry about me, princess, I can take care of myself." He chuckled at your whimper and pulled back to look right into your eyes. "But it's not about me, is it? You want my cock all for yourself, don't you?"

You nodded, making him giggle sweetly.

"Well, you're just gonna have to wait," he cooed, poking the tip of your nose with his finger and laughing harder at your needy whine. "We'll go out again next weekend and maybe if it goes well, it'll lead to something more, alright?"

"Okay," you sighed, "I can wait a week. I think."

He smiled and kissed you again, helping you pull your panties back up and rubbing your thigh appreciatively. "Goodnight," he whispered against your lips, slipping out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

You sighed and let your head fall back against the seat, watching out the window as he walked back to his bike. You hated to see him go, but you did love watching him walk away.

//

two years later…

“Will the Six Million Dollar Man be joining us?” Sam asked with a smirk as he glanced to the door of the bowling alley, checking to see if anyone had walked in.

“When he gets off of work,” you promised.

“Why do you call him that?” Natasha asked Sam innocently.

“You’ll see,” Sam promised, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek, but you figured there was a pretty good chance she wouldn't get the reference anyway.

Right on cue, Bucky appeared in the doorway and you and Sam waved him to the correct lane. “Hey guys,” he greeted, “hey babe,” he pulled you into a quick kiss. “And happy birthday, Sam.”

“Shh, keep it down, we don’t want any Hollywood people to find out that I’m aging,” Sam joked. “Are you gonna join the game or just observe?”

“I’ll join, if it’s not too late,” Bucky decided.

“Since when do you bowl?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Since I got the prosthetic recalibrated to throw the perfect strike every time,” he winked.

Beers and turns went pretty quickly after that, light conversation interspersed in between, until the more raucous parts of the evening died down and you left Bucky for a moment to join Sam at the bar.

Sam nodded to acknowledge you as you leaned beside him, and you ordered yourself one more drink before you called it a night.

“So, Natasha,” you started the conversation, watching the way Sam couldn’t hide his smile. “She’s great.”

“Yeah, she’s really something,” he agreed. “I wanted you guys to meet her sooner, but you were gone filming for so long and all.”

“Don’t fuck this one up, Sam,” you threatened.

“I’m trying not to!” he defended, before looking around like he was trying to make sure no one was looking. As you furrowed your brow and wondered what he was up to, he pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and showed you a picture: a ring, with a massive diamond and accents of citrine.

“Holy shit…” you sighed, pulling the phone closer to get a better look.

“Had it custom made, I’m gonna pick it up tomorrow,” he explained, putting the phone away. “I don’t even know how I’m gonna ask her yet… I just know I need to snag this one before she slips through my fingers.”

“You’re really like a whole new man,” you realized aloud.

“I’m telling you, this girl… she really changed everything for me,” he sighed wistfully, and you nodded because you knew what that was like.

“I knew you just needed a good woman to straighten you out, Wilson,” you joked, patting him on the shoulder, “my only mistake was ever thinking it was me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I thought it was you, too,” he smiled softly. “I really loved you, even when I was stepping out on you… and I think I needed to love you, and to lose you, to be here now.   So, thank you.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, I guess,” you laughed a little, taking a slow sip of your drink.

“And if she says yes, I’m gonna need all the marriage advice you have to offer,” he bargained.

“I mean, we’ve only been married for a month,” you chuckled, “I don’t think we’re far enough into it to really provide significant guidance.”

“And you’ve already gone through so much together.  Is he doing alright?  You know, his nightmares and stuff…”

You glanced over and where Bucky and Natasha were chatting, admiring how at ease he looked; he usually had a harder time with new people.  “Yeah, it’s been a lot better, he’s on new meds… how did you know about that?”

“He talks to me sometimes,” Sam admitted.  “And as someone who has played a PTSD-striken veteran in not one, but two major motion pictures, I’m sort of an expert,” he winked, but then got serious again.  “I would’ve asked him how he was doing myself but he wouldn’t let me ask him personal stuff on my birthday.”

“I bet he’d let you ask him for his opinion on the ring you just showed me.”

“Um, why would I want his opinion when he bought you that?” he grimaced, pointing at the ring on your finger.  “I mean, sapphires?  Really?”

“Cut it out,” you laughed, shoving him on the shoulder.

“Okay, fine,” he relented. 

“Are you coming to my premiere tomorrow, by the way?” you asked.  “I have it on good authority you were invited, since I demanded it.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he nodded, “Nat really wants to go, too.  She’s a big fan of your work.”

“Well, tell her she was great in that one about the missing girl,” you replied.  

“I’ll be sure to tell her exactly that.”

“We should head home, you know how early premiere prep starts,” you sighed with an exhausted roll of your eyes, finishing the last of your drink before grabbing Sam on the shoulder.  “Good luck with however you decide to pop the question with Nat.  Let me know if you need anything.”

He nodded and let you go, and once you got Bucky’s attention and said goodbye to Nat, the two of you made your way out back to the car.

“I’m glad you and Sam get along,” you reminded him as you squeezed his hand.

“What gives you that impression?” he scoffed.

You shook your head and smiled, letting him walk you to the car in silence.

Less than 24 hours later, you held his hand in just the same way as you sat beside each other in the screening auditorium, watching your latest film fade to black and hearing the crowd at the premiere— mostly cast, crew, and critics— erupt into applause.

"I have a little surprise for you," you whispered in his ear as the credits began to flash.

"I am not gonna let you blow me in this crowded theater," he instantly scolded.

"No, not that," you giggled, although you secretly wondered how much less crowded the theater would have to be for him to let you try it.  "Just wait until my name comes up."

Written and Directed by Hope Van Dyne

A Paramount Pictures Film

In Association with Europa

And then there it was, in big white letters, just as much of a trip to see as the first time you saw your name on the big screen.  But something very important had changed.

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes

Everyone at the screening was clapping and cheering, but you were so focused on him that his whisper was the only thing you heard.  "Sweetheart," he gasped, and you smiled wide.  "You didn't have to—"

"I wanted to."

"It's just a stage name, if you want to keep it the same—"

"Buck, really.  I want your name there with mine."

"But your credits…" he protested, though the break in his voice made it clear he was tearing up.  "You're an actress and you've established your career already and it's so important to you—"

"Hey," you soothed, reaching up to brush your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you.  "Your wife is the most important thing I've ever been."

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter eleven

chapter eleven

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: Y/N POV: details of what happened to Stephen, her grandmas cancer, and very detailed explanations of how babies are made (as biologically accurate and not very graphic as possible) this is an angsty trauma filled chapter that made me cry a lot just writing it so I'm sorry in advance

word count: 3K

from the beginning <3

June 13th, 2010

There’s a knock on her parent's door at 4 in the morning, Y/N’s sound asleep on the couch back at her grandma’s, awoken by said grandmother as she hears all the noise beyond the porch. There are 2 cop cars at the main house, worry starts to settle over them.

She puts on a pair of shoes, taking her grandmother's hand in hers as they begin the early morning trek up the road, anxiety seeping in deeper and deeper as they get closer to the lights illuminating their driveway.

Her father is talking to an officer on the steps, her mother is crying behind him. “We’re so sorry for your loss,” the officer says and Y/N’s blood runs cold, numbing her from the impending despair.

“What happened?” Her grandmother asks, rubbing a hand along Y/N’s back in preparation for the worst.

“Evan was in a car accident,” her father says softly, knowing that Y/N knows Stephen was with him tonight. She breaks away from her grandma and without thinking she’s right in the officer's face.

“Which one of them died?”

“Ma’am,” it was never a good way to start the worst conversation of her life with that word or in that tone. She felt like a '40s housewife learning her husband wasn’t coming home from the war, only he wasn’t even her husband yet.

He would have been on next Saturday.

“I’m sorry, Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” he says the worst sentence she’s ever heard, and now she’ll never forget it. “The passenger side took the worst of it, once again, I am so sorry for your loss.”

She’s surprisingly calm, managing to whisper, “thank you,” before she’s walking off into the field, pushing everyone's hands away as she travels as far as he feet will take her.

She ends up at the willow tree by the pond as soon as the sun is rising, it happened a lot earlier in June than the rest of the year. The birds singing, the wind blowing against the leaves making them carry a tune in harmony together. The world is still spinning, life is moving on, but how?

She sat there against the tree for a while, picking blades of grass and weaving them into a chain, soothing her brain as she makes a pattern. Giving her hands something to do so they stop going numb, it’s the only thing that really reminds her that she's real, that she’s controlling the twists and tucks, the shape and length and the fact that it was created at all.

Ending the life of the single blade of grass as she picks it, never to be whole again. Snatched from its happy place, where it grew loved and surrounded by other matching green strands as they blew in the wind.

Then she's pulling fist full after fist full of grass out of the dirt, her hands covered in mud as she shouts, throwing handfuls of grass and dirt towards the pond. The once blue water starting to turn cloudy; disrupted and upset with her anger as it swallows her weapons, but it doesn’t make her feel better. All she did was disrupt the earth, changing the way this once beautiful patch of land used to look. She couldn’t help but sob, realizing that she was like this field now and her beautiful green pasture was disrupted, overturned and ruined.

The life that flowed through her died along with the love of her life.

“Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” the words echo in her mind in a constant circle like she’s stuck in a tin can.

It starts to reverberate, getting louder and louder as the same 7 words all run around in her head. Bouncing off the walls, smacking her down again and again as she hears them over and over and over… she’s holding her hands on her ears, shaking back and forth, sobbing when she feels someone wrap their arms around her.

She doesn’t open her eyes, instead, she's rushing to push them off of her, struggling out of their grasp as she fights them. Finally, she loses, being held in her brother's embrace as they both cry, he barely has a scratch on him when she finally looks at him.

she’s never been physical in her life, but she punched him right in the face. Her twin brother, best friend in childhood and the person she’s known the longest in her life. He held her close in the womb, crying if they separated as soon as they were born, she loved him deeply and yet she hated him something fierce at that moment.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Evan cries, “we were stopped at a red light, Y/N!”

“I don’t care! He was supposed to be my husband!” She swats at him, smacking his arms again and again as he tries to hold them back, holding her so tightly as she basically screams bloody murder in the field.

All she can see is his face, her beautiful happy Stephen. The first time she ever saw him, standing under a street light in Boston, papers in his hand and wonder in his eyes. The way he looked up at her, the glow of the light making a halo glow over his head.

She should have known he was too good to be true. Always destined to return to the heavens, he was truly angelic with his big emerald eyes that were only the tiniest bit yellow on the edge of the pupil, the way her name sounded on his tongue like a blessing coming true.

They buried him 2 days after what was supposed to be their wedding. Disrupting another beautiful patch of earth to hide him away forever, she placed a single rose on his casket, she never said goodbye and she never planned to.

“See you later, superstar,” she patted the glossy black box once last time before sending him down into the earth.

—

September 2012

This fucking willow tree and 7-word sentences…

“What do you mean you have cancer?”

Her grandma let a tear slip from her eye, “I’ve got colon cancer, honey, the doctors said I have another 2 years, maybe 5 if I'm lucky.”

Every time someone sat beside her in this one spot, she learned the worst information in the world. Sure Evan didn’t mean to kill Stephen, doesn’t mean she’s talked to him at all in the last year. with Grandpa dying only a few summers back, her favourite house cat now buried in the yard, she can’t lose her grandma now too.

“Okay,” she starts to plan in her head, her eyes about ready to jump out of her skull as she tries to think of all the things they need to do before it’s too late, “let’s go to England, let’s blow my bank account, you can’t leave me without going to England with me? We were supposed to get tea and pretend to be the queen and princess?”

She couldn’t stop the tears, her whole body heaving as she sobbed into her grandma’s dress, “you can’t leave me too!”

“Your grandfather and I have a fund for you, you were the last baby we got to raise when your mom went back to work, I want you to use it for that baby we talked about,” her grandma’s voice is barely a whisper, softly getting the words over her vocal cords as the tears joined Y/N’s on her dress.

Without another word, she took her hand and walked home, getting in her car together and heading to the closest fertility clinic, she booked her first insemination for February, pre-paying for a round of IVF hormones and everything to start in January, she had 3 months to plan.

Finding the perfect donor was the only hard part. She had 3 different books to choose from with all the clinics in the DC area sharing 1 sperm bank. She finally made her decision 3 weeks before they were set to get her pregnant when they updated the books.

Sample 2319, male 30’s, healthy, high IQ, 6’1, brown eyes, brown hair (curly). “Sounds a lot like Stephen,” her grandma agreed, saying his name for the first time in over 2 years, she knew this was her guy.

—

June 14th, 2021

Peeing on a stick shouldn’t be as terrifying as it is.

She hasn’t been this nervous since the first time Dr. Collins inseminated her. Laying back on the table at a weird elevation to make sure she got pregnant, her whole body tense as she thought of the possibilities of her future child.

Sample 2319 sitting in a cup not too far from her face as she prepared for a man she barely knew to put the semen of another man she didn’t know, inside her. She only picked this guy cause he was smart and tall, no health issues to report and the number made her think of Monsters Inc.

In her mind, she made a baby with a man she named mike wazowski, not knowing his real name was actually Spencer Reid and he was only just down the road at Quantico the whole time. It was the weirdest day ever, and then it became the second-best day of her life

Nothing could top holding her baby in her arms for the first time. Her grandma and mother beside her as they all cried, the perfect purple baby screaming on her chest as they tried to wipe the white gunk off her tiny body. her sweet little coos, seeing her swollen eyes open for the first time, the silence that overcame her as they made their first introduction to each other. Her little person, the love of her life, her wonderful Amoreena.

Her cry was perfect, like music to her ears she wanted to hear her little voice as long as she could because it meant she was alive and real. She was healthy and beautiful and the most perfect bundle of joy she could have ever made.

Now she was hiding in the bathroom to pee on a stick while her 7-year-old had breakfast in the next room. Oh, how times changed, but one thing remained the same, she was finding out alone again. Only this time she meant for that to happen, it was exactly 4 days since her period was supposed to start and it wasn’t there, neither was Spencer.

He had something to do that morning, but he’d be meeting them later that afternoon, it was Amoreena’s last day of kindergarten after all. She wanted time to either enjoy the thought of having another baby or cry in peace because for once it didn’t work, giving her a week to recover before trying again.

Amoreena was a miracle, the easiest IVF baby they ever made at the clinic, apparently. If she was pregnant this easily again it was a sure sign that he was Amoreena’s father too, only he could get her knocked up while not even trying.

She didn’t remember pregnancy tests taking this long, she flipped it over and walked out of the room, unable to think of anything else while she waited for 3 minutes to pass. Amoreena noticed she was being weird, studying her mother's movements as she paced the hall outside of the bathroom door.

“What are you doing?” She asked, curious as ever as she twirled lightly in her new princess dress.

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Always mom, I’m the best secret keeper in all the kingdom, remember?” Amoreena smiled, holding onto her leg as she stared up at her.

“Your dad and I tried to make a baby,” she whispered, petting the litter hairs on her forehead as Amoreena looked up at her, her first little baby. “I’m waiting to find out if it worked, but we can’t tell anyone in case it didn’t, okay?”

Amoreena’s eyes were wider than she’s ever seen them, her mouth opened slowly as she understood the words in her mind. She didn’t look happy or surprised, nor upset or worried. She looked confused, “how?”

She laughed then, shaking her head as she lifted Amoreena into her arms, she would have to know soon anyway. “You know how every month mummy has a bad week where she bleeds and her tummy hurts?”

“Yeah?”

“When people with our parts grow up they make little tiny eggs but we don’t lay them like chickens do, they stay inside our tummies and wait to become babies and if they don’t we have a period and release all the stuff our bodies saved up that month to make a little person. You’ll have one soon too in a few years, probably when you're 12 like I was, and when people with a penis get old enough they’re able to help us make the babies like roosters help the chickens. Our bodies are really special and make some really cool things when we try to,” she explained it in the most simple farmhouse way she could.

“Like when the goats are all born in the spring and they just show up?” She tried to clarify, understanding it at the basic level.

“Kinda, you’ve seen the photos of you in my tummy and how aunty Shannon’s stomach grew when she had your cousins, I’ll get really big like that too if I’m pregnant, the baby will grow for 9 long months till they’re nice and healthy and then we’ll have another person in the family,” she couldn’t help but smile as she thought about it.

“How do we find out?”

She opened the bathroom door then and carried Amoreena inside, setting her down on the sink and pointing at the upside-down test stick. “We create a special hormone when we’re pregnant, it’s something that can be detected in our pee!” she explained it like it was magic, watching her get excited instead of grossed out.

“So I peed on that stick and if it has 2 lines I have a baby in my tummy, if not then your dad and I have to try again.”

Amoreena picked up the test and looked at it, keeping it out of her mothers sight as she did so, “there’s two lines,” she lit up waving the stick lightly as she squealed.

Y/N wrapped her up in her arms and twirled her around, “you’re gonna be the best big sister ever!”

“How do we tell dad?” Amoreena’s soft voice whispered in her ear as she snuggled into her shoulder.

“I have an idea,” she whispered back before carrying her back into the kitchen.

Her All About Me project was sitting on the counter, ready for Y/N to drive her into school today. She set Amoreena down on the floor to watch her as she took some tape and taped the stick to the bottom corner of the project. “Pass me the marker, please?”

Amoreena ran to the counter to get it, coming back and placing it in her mom's hand before leaning in to watch what she was writing.

“I’m going to be a big sister sometime next February!” Amoreena read the words as her mother wrote them, unbelievably excited.

“Your dad can read that at the ceremony tonight!”

“I thought you said we can’t tell anyone yet?” Amoreena questioned her, like always.

“Your teacher can know, the other kids won't know what it means, it’s just important Spencer sees it, but we will wait to tell nanny and poppy, okay? Sometimes the babies don’t always stay, it’s sad so we keep it a secret until they’ve got a tiny little heartbeat in there,” she didn’t want to scare her, but she knew it was always a possibility.

“Then we try again,” Amoreena smiled, “It’ll be easier now that you don’t need Dr. Collins to help you, how did you even make me without Spencer?” She didn't use his real name often anymore, only in times when she wasn't referring to him as her father.

She sat down then, pulling Amoreena into her lap so she could hold her while she thought of the right words. “So we have eggs, but people with penises have something called sperm. When adults, and I mean adults you have to be at least 25 to have a baby it’s the rules,” she teased her slightly, ticking her arms.

“Adults have sex, babies are made when someone with a vagina and someone with a penis get together. But when you don’t have a partner with a penis to help, sometimes they’ll donate their sperm to the doctor's offices to help people like me make their perfect little families all by themselves.”

“Interesting,” is all her little mind can say, she has learned so much in one day, Y/N was surprised she was still listening and surprisingly still for once. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We won't know for a while,” she smiled, holding Amoreena closer to her chest. “How do you feel about all this?”

Amoreena was quiet as she thought about it, “is Spencer the guy who gave the doctors the sperm for me?”

“We think so, but we don’t know, why?”

Amoreena looked at her softly, “it wouldn’t be fair, I know he said I don’t need a father but why do they get to have him for both?”

“I think Spencer is your father, you’re just as smart and wonderful as he is, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re his baby too. but if you want to know if he isn't, when you turn 18 the doctors will tell you who it is, it's completely up to you to find out,” she whispered, the tears starting to fall down her cheeks as Amoreena tried to wipe them away.

"I like thinking he's my father, so he is." Her mind worked in the most wonderful way. Y/N couldn’t help but hold her close as she lightly cried, “I had a dream yesterday that I had 8 sisters,” her voice was so soft and innocent as her tiny hand cupped her mother's cheek.

She gasped lightly at the words, remembering Spencer’s panic in the middle of the night last night, how scared he was to leave her all alone with 9 babies and no one to help her. They knew something that she didn’t yet, cheaper by the dozen seemed less like a dream and more like a prophecy.

“I’m so happy to make your dream come true,” Y/N whispered, “I promise I’m happy, the baby just makes me emotional.”

Amoreena placed her hand on her tummy then, “I love you, baby.”

Y/N stuck her tummy out as far as she could, “I love you too, big sister,” she said in a funny voice to make Amoreena laugh, leaning back in the chair as she held her.

And just like that, getting pregnant with Amoreena was bumped into 3rd place for the best day of her life. Sharing the moment with her and no one else was perfect, insuring she knew that she was just as important moving forward as the little person she was growing this time.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 let me know if you would like to be added as well!!

[sk1fanfiction]

the many faces of tom riddle, part 4

-attachment, orphanages, and yet more child psych: time to add yet another voice to the void-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION.

I'm going to be super biased, because my favorite portrayal of Tom Riddle is actually Hero Fiennes-Tiffin as eleven-year-old Tom Riddle, in HBP and I get to chat about child psych in this one, sooo here we go.

First of all, I’m just so impressed that a kid could bring that much depth to such a complex character.

This is the portrayal, I feel, that brings us closest to Tom’s character. Yes, Coulson’s brought us pretty close, but by fifth year, the mask was on.

We don't really get to see Tom looking afraid very often, but it's fear that rules his life, so it's really poignant in our first (chronologically) introduction, he looks absolutely terrified.

The void being the fandom's loud opinions on a certain headmaster. I wouldn't call myself pro-Dumbledore, but I'm certainly not anti-Dumbledore, either. (Agnostic-Dumbledore??)

Since I'm not of the anti-Dumbledore persuasion, I decided to poke around in the tags and see what the arguments were, so I don't make comments out of ignorance.

Most of the tag seems to be more directed towards his treatment of Harry and Sirius, but a few people mentioned that Dumbledore should have treated Tom with ‘exceptional kindness’ and tried to ‘rehabilitate’ him.

As I said in Parts 2 and 3, I am 100% in favor of helping a traumatized kid learn to cope, and I don’t think Tom Riddle was solidly on the Path to Evil (TM) at birth, or even at eleven. Not even at fifteen.

Could unconditional love and kindness have helped Tom Riddle enough for the rise of Lord Voldemort to never happen? Possibly, but...

Yes, I'm about to drag up that Carl Jung quote, again.

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

The problem with this is that if you’re going to blame Dumbledore for this, you also have to blame every other adult in Tom’s life: his headmaster, Dippet, his Head of House, Slughorn, his ‘caretakers’ at the orphanage, Mrs. Cole and Martha, and possibly more. In fact, if we're going to blame any adult, let's blame Merope for r*ping and abusing Tom Riddle Senior, and having a kid she wasn't intending to take care of.

Furthermore, you cannot possibly hold anyone but Tom accountable for the murders he committed. (I should not have to sit here and explain why cold-blooded murder is wrong.) And if you like Tom Riddle's character, insinuating that his actions are completely at the whim of others is just a bit condescending towards him. He's not an automaton or a marionette, he's a very intelligent human being with a functioning brain, and at sixteen is fully capable of moral reasoning and critical analysis.

I've heard the theories about Dumbledore setting the Potters up to die, and I'm not going to discuss their validity right now; but he didn't put a wand in Tom's hand and force him to kill anyone. Tom did it all of his own accord.

And while yes, I have enormous sympathy for what happened to Tom as a child, at some point, he decided to murder Myrtle Warren, and that is where I lose my sympathy. Experiencing trauma does not give you the right to inflict harm on others. Yes, Tom was failed, but then, he spectacularly failed himself.

We also have no idea how Dumbledore treated Tom as a student.

In the movies, it’s Dumbledore who tells Tom he has to go back to the orphanage, but in the books, it’s Dippet. We know that Slughorn spent a lot of time around Tom at Slug Club and such, yet I don’t really see people clamoring for his head.

I regard the sentiment that Dumbledore turned Tom Riddle into Lord Voldemort with a lot of skepticism.

But let's hear from the character himself -- his impression of eleven-year-old Tom Riddle.

“Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time?” said Dumbledore. “No, I had no idea that he was to grow up to be what he is. However, I was certainly intrigued by him. I returned to Hogwarts intending to keep an eye upon him, something I should have done in any case, given that he was alone and friendless, but which, already, I felt I ought to do for others’ sake as much as his."

Now, assuming that Dumbledore's telling the truth, I'm not seeing something glaringly wrong with this. No, he hasn't pigeonholed Tom as evil, yes, I'd be intrigued, too, and it's a very good idea to keep an eye on Tom, for his own sake.

“At Hogwarts,” Dumbledore went on, “we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have — inadvertently, I am sure — been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school."

Again, it seems like he's at least somewhat sympathetic towards Tom, and is willing to at least give him a chance.

More evidence (again, assuming Dumbledore is a reliable narrator):

Harry: “Didn’t you tell them [the other professors], sir, what he’d been like when you met him at the orphanage?” Dumbledore: “No, I did not. Though he had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that he felt sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give him that chance.”

Now, I think Dumbledore is pretty awful with kids, but I don't think that's malicious. Yeah, it's a flaw, but perfect people don't exist, and perfect characters are dead boring. I am not saying that he definitely handled Tom's case well, I'm just saying that there's little evidence that Dumbledore, however shaken and scandalized, wrote him off as 'evil snake boy.'

It's also worth taking into account that it's 1938, and the attitudes towards mental health back then.

Why is Tom looking at Dumbledore like that, anyway? Why is he so scared? What has he possibly been threatened with or heard whispers of?

"'Professor'?" repeated Riddle. He looked wary. "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?"

"I don't believe you," said Riddle. "She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!"

"You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? 'Professor,' yes, of course -- well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!

Tom keeps insisting he's not mad until Dumbledore finally manages to calm him down.

I'm really upset this wasn't in the movie, because it's important context. Instead we got these throwaway cutscenes of some knick-knacks relating to the Cave he's got lying around, but I just would have preferred to see him freaking out like he does in the book.

There was extreme stigma and prejudice towards mental illness.

'Lunatic asylums,' as they were called in Tom's time, were terrible places. In the 1930s and 40s, he could look forward to being 'treated' with induced convulsions, via metrazol, insulin, electroshock, and malaria injections. And if he stuck around long enough, he could even look forward to a lobotomy!

So, if you think Dumbledore was judgmental towards Tom, imagine how flat-out prejudiced whatever doctors or 'experts' Mrs. Cole might have gotten in to 'look at him' must have been!

Moving on to the next few shots, he is sitting down and hunched over as if expecting punishment or at least some kind of bad news, Dumbledore is mostly out of the frame. He’s trapped visually, by Dumbledore on one side, and a wall on the other, because he’s still very much afraid. uncomfortable, as he tells Dumbledore a secret that he fears could get him committed to an asylum (which were fucking horrible places, as I said).

It brings to the scene that miserable sense of isolation and loneliness to that has defined Tom’s entire life up to that point (and, partially due to his own bad choices, continues to define it).

And, when Dumbledore accepts it, his posture changes. he becomes more confident and more at ease, as he describes the... utilities of his magical abilities. 

"All sorts," breathed Riddle. A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."

Riddle lifted his head. His face was transfigured: There was a wild happiness upon it, yet for some reason it did not make him better looking; on the contrary, his finely carved features seemed somehow rougher, his expression almost bestial.

I do think Harry, our narrator, is being a tad bit judgmental here. Magic is probably the only thing that brings Tom happiness in his grey, lonely world, and when I was Tom's age and being bullied, if I had magic powers, you'd better believe that I'd (a) be bloody ecstatic about it (b) use them. And, like Tom, I can't honestly say that I can't imagine getting a bit carried-away with it. Unfortunately, we can't all be as inherently good and kindhearted as Harry.

Reading HBP again, as a 'mature' person, it almost seems like the reader is being prompted to see Tom as evil just because he's got 'weird' facial expressions.

So... uh...

Nope, let's judge Tom on his actions, not looks of 'wild happiness.'

To his great surprise, however, Dumbledore drew his wand from an inside pocket of his suit jacket, pointed it at the shabby wardrobe in the corner, and gave the wand a casual flick. The wardrobe burst into flames. Riddle jumped to his feet; Harry could hardly blame him for howling in shock and rage; all his worldly possessions must be in there. But even as Riddle rounded on Dumbledore, the flames vanished, leaving the wardrobe completely undamaged.

Okay, one thing I dislike is Tom's lack of emotional affect when Dumbledore burned the wardrobe, in the books, he jumped up and started screaming, instead of looking passively (in shock, perhaps?) at the fire. Incidentally, I can't really tell if he's impressed or in shock, to be honest. I think they really tried to make Tom 'creepier' in the movie.

This is one of the incidents where Dumbledore's inability to deal with children crops up.

I think he was trying to teach Tom that magic can be dangerous, and he wouldn't like it to be used against him, but burning the wardrobe that contains everything he owns was a terrible move on Dumbledore's part. Tom already has very limited trust in other people, and now, he's not going to trust Dumbledore at all -- now, he's put Tom on the defensive/offensive for the rest of their interaction, and perhaps for the rest of their teacher-student relationship.

Riddle stared from the wardrobe to Dumbledore; then, his expression greedy, he pointed at the wand. "Where can I get one of them?"

"Where do you buy spellbooks?" interrupted Riddle, who had taken the heavy money bag without thanking Dumbledore, and was now examining a fat gold Galleon.

But I'm not surprised Tom is 'greedy.' He's grown up in an environment where if he wants something, whether that's affection, food, money, toys, he's got to take it. There's no one looking after his needs specifically. I'm not surprised that he's a thief and a hoarder, and I don't think that counts as a moral failing necessarily, and more of a maladaptive way of seeking comfort. It would be bizarre if he came out of Wool's Orphanage a complete saint.

Additionally, I think given that the Gaunt family has a history of 'mental instability,' Tom is a sensitive child, and the trauma of growing up institutionalized and possibly being treated badly due to his magical abilities or personality disorder deeply affected him.

And there are points where it seems that Dumbledore is quick to judge Tom.

"He was already using magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control."

"Yes, indeed; a rare ability, and one supposedly connected with the Dark Arts, although as we know, there are Parselmouths among the great and the good too. In fact, his ability to speak to serpents did not make me nearly as uneasy as his obvious instincts for cruelty, secrecy, and domination."

"I trust that you also noticed that Tom Riddle was already highly self-sufficient, secretive, and, apparently, friendless?..."

And while this is all empirically true, these are (a) a product of Tom's harsh environment, and (b) do not necessarily make him evil. But the point remains that child psych didn't exist as a field of its own, and psychology as a proper science was in its infancy, so I'd be shocked if Dumbledore was insightful about Tom's situation.

But I've gone a ton of paragraphs without citing anything, so I've got to rectify that.

Let's talk about Harry Harlow's monkey experiments in the 1950-70s.

If you're not a fan of animal research, since I know some people are uncomfortable with it, feel free to scroll past.

Here's the TL;DR: Children need to be hugged and shown affection too, not just fed and clothed, please don't leave babies to 'cry out' and ignore their needs because it's backwards and fucking inhumane. HUG AND COMFORT AND CODDLE CHILDREN AND SPOIL THEM WITH AFFECTION!

I will put more red writing when the section is over.

This is still an interesting experiment to have in mind while we explore the whole 'no one taught Tom Riddle how to love' thing and whether or not it's actually a good argument.

Andddd let's go all the way back to the initial 1958 experiment, featured in Harlow's paper, the Nature of Love. (If you're familiar with Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, him and Harlow actually collaborated for a time).

To give you an idea of our starting point, until Harlow's experiment, which happened twenty years after Dumbledore meets Tom for the first time, no one in science had really been interested in studying love and affection.

"Psychologists, at least psychologists who write textbooks, not only show no interest in the origin and development of love or affection, but they seem to be unaware of its very existence."

I'm going to link some videos of Harry Harlow showing the actual experiment, which animal rights activists would probably consider 'horrifying.' It's nothing gory or anything, but if you are particularly soft-hearted (and I do not mean that as an insult), be warned. It's mostly just baby monkeys being very upset and Harlow discussing it in a callous manner. Yes, today it would be considered unethical, but it's still incredibly important work and if you think you can handle it, I would recommend watching at least the first one to get an idea of how dramatic this effect is.

Dependency when frightened

The full experiment

The TL;DW:

This experiment was conducted with rhesus macaques; they're still used in psychology/neuroscience research when you want very human-like subjects, because they are very intelligent (unnervingly so, actually). I'd say that adult ones remind me of a three-year old child.

Harlow separated newborn monkeys from their mothers, and cared for their physical needs. They had ample nutrition, bedding, warmth, et cetera. However, the researchers noticed that the monkeys:

(a) were absolutely miserable. And not just that, but although all their physical needs were taken care of, they weren't surviving well past the first few days of life. (This has also been documented in human babies, and it's called failure to thrive and I'll talk about it a bit later).

(b) showed a strong attachment to the gauze pads used to cover the floor, and decided to investigate.

So, they decided to provide a surrogate 'mother.' Two, actually. Mother #1 was basically a heated fuzzy doll that was nice for the monkeys to cuddle with. Mother #2 was the same, but not fuzzy and made of wire. Both provided milk. The result? The monkeys spent all their time cuddling and feeding from the fuzzy 'mother.' Perhaps not surprising.

What Harlow decided next, is that one of the hallmarks being attached to your caregiver is seeking hugs and reassurance from them when frightened. So, when the monkeys were presented with something scary, they'd go straight to the cloth mother and ignore the wire one. Not only that, but when placed in an unfamiliar environment, if the cloth mother was present, the monkeys would be much calmer.

In a follow-up experiment, Harlow decided to see if there was some sort of sensitive period by introducing both 'mothers' to monkeys who had been raised in isolation for 250 days. Guess what?

The initial reaction of the monkeys to the alterations was one of extreme disturbance. All the infants screamed violently and made repeated attempts to escape the cage whenever the door was opened. They kept a maximum distance from the mother surrogates and exhibited a considerable amount of rocking and crouching behavior, indicative of emotionality.

Yikes. So, at first Harlow thought that they'd passed some kind of sensitive period for socialization. But after a day or two they calmed down and started chilling out with the cloth mother like the other monkeys did. But here's a weird thing:

That the control monkeys develop affection or love for the cloth mother when she is introduced into the cage at 250 days of age cannot be questioned. There is every reason to believe, however, that this interval of delay depresses the intensity of the affectional response below that of the infant monkeys that were surrogate-mothered from birth onward

All these things... attachment, affection, love, seeking comfort ... are mostly learned behaviours.

Over.

Orphanages, institutionalized childcare, and why affection is a need, not an extra.

His face is lit the exact same was as Coulson’s was in COS (half-light, half-dark), and I said I was going to talk about this in Part 3. I think perhaps it's intended to make Fiennes-Tiffin look more evil or menacing, but I'm going to quite deliberately misinterpret it.

Now, for some context, Dumbledore has just (kind of) burned his wardrobe, ratted out his stealing habit, and (in the books only, they really took a pair of scissors to this scene) told him he needs to go apologize and return everything and Dumbledore will know if he doesn't, and, well, Tom's not exactly a happy bugger about it.

But interestingly, in the books, this is when we start to see Tom's 'persona,' aka his mask, start to come into play. Whereas before, he was screaming, howling, and generally freaking out, here, he starts to hide his emotions -- in essence, obscure his true self under a shadow. So this scene is really the reverse of Coulson's in COS.

And perhaps I'm reading wayyy too much into this, but I can't help but notice that Coulson's hair is parted opposite to Fiennes-Tiffin's, and the opposite sides of their faces are shadowed, too.

Riddle threw Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look. "Yes, I suppose so, sir," he said finally, in an expressionless voice.

Riddle did not look remotely abashed; he was still staring coldly and appraisingly at Dumbledore. At last he said in a colorless voice, "Yes, sir."

Here's an article from The Atlantic on Romanian orphanages in the 1980s, when the dictator, Ceausescu, basically forced people to have as many children as possible and funnel them into institutionalized 'childcare', and it's absolutely heartbreaking.

There's not a whole lot of information out there on British orphanages in the 30s' and 40s', but given that people back then thought you just had to keep children on a strict schedule and feed them, it wouldn't have a whole lot better.

The only thing I've found is this, and it's not super promising.

The most important study informing the criteria for contemporary nosologies, was a study by Barbara Tizard and her colleagues of young children being raised in residential nurseries in London (Tizard, 1977). These nurseries had lower child to caregiver ratios than many previous studies of institutionalized children. Also, the children were raised in mixed aged groups and had adequate books and toys available. Nevertheless, caregivers were explicitly discouraged from forming attachments to the children in their care.

Here's a fairly recent paper that I think gives a good summary: Link

Here, they describe the responses to the Strange Situation test (which tests a child's attachment to their caregiver).

We found that 100% of the community sample received a score of “5,” indicating fully formed attachments, whereas only 3% of the infants living in institutions demonstrated fully formed attachments. The remaining 97% showed absent, incomplete, or odd and abnormal attachment behaviors.

Bowlby and Ainsworth, who did the initial study, thought that children would always attach to their caregivers, regardless of neglect or abuse. But some infants don't attach (discussed along with RAD in Part 2).

Here's a really good review paper on attachment disorders in currently or formerly institutionalized children : Link

Core features of RAD in young children include the absence of focused attachment behaviors directed towards a preferred caregiver, failure to seek and respond to comforting when distressed, reduced social and emotional reciprocity, and disturbances of emotion regulation, including reduced positive affect and unexplained fearfulness or irritability.

Which all sounds a lot like Tom in this scene. The paper also discusses neurological effects, like atypical EEG power distribution (aka brain waves), which can correlate with 'indiscriminate' behavior and poor inhibitory control; which makes sense for a kid who, oh, I don't know, hung another kid's rabbit because they were angry.

Furthermore...

...those children with more prolonged institutional rearing showed reduced amygdala discrimination and more indiscriminate behavior.

This again, makes a ton of sense for Tom's psychological profile, because the amygdala (which is part of the limbic system, which regulates emotions) plays a major role in fear, anger, anxiety, and aggression, especially with respect to learning, motivation and memory.

So, I agree completely that Tom needed a lot of help, especially given the fact that he spent eleven years in an orphanage (longer than the Bucharest study I was referring to), and Dumbledore wasn't exactly understanding of his situation, and probably didn't realise what a dramatic effect the orphanage had on Tom, and given the way he talks to Tom, probably treated him as if he were a kid who grew up in a healthy environment.

In case you are still unconvinced that hugging is that important, there's a famous 1944 study conducted on 40 newborn human infants to see what would happen if their physical needs (fed, bathed, diapers changed) were provided for with no affection. The study had to be stopped because half the babies died after four months. Affection leads to the production of hormones and boosts the immune system, which increases survival, and that is why we hug children and babies should not be in orphanages. They are supposed to be hugged, all the time. I can't find the citation right now, I'll add it later if I find it.

But I think it's vastly unrealistic to say that Dumbledore, who grew up during the Victorian Era, would have any grasp of this and I don't think he was actively malicious towards Tom.

Was Tom Riddle failed by institutional childcare? Absolutely.

Were the adults in his life oblivious to his situation? Probably.

Do the shitty things that happened to Tom excuse the murders he committed, and are they anyone's fault but his own? No. At the end of the day, Tom made all the wrong choices.

And, for what it's worth, I think (film) Dumbledore (although he expresses the same sentiment in more words in the books) wishes he could go back in time and have helped Tom.

"Draco. Years ago, I knew a boy, who made all the wrong choices. Please, let me help you."