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#nobody struggling with this is a Bad Person - they are simply human and they deserve to be seen and treated as such
uncanny-tranny · 9 months
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I'm going to be real, I think people (particularly neurotypical people) really fail when they see disordered eating as solely a behaviour when it isn't just that (and usually they assume the behaviour can only be restricted eating). Disordered eating is as much a frame of thinking as it is a "behaviour".
I say this is a failure because people are struggling, and they aren't receiving help they need because they're not seen as "eating disordered". The mindset that leads to somebody developing the behaviours associated with disordered eating is - in my experience - absolutely life-ruining and devastating. It genuinely feels like a huge part of your soul has shriveled up and vanished. When you see disordered eating as a behaviour, you are fundamentally not understanding what these issues tend to be, and how they arise.
This is so, so especially important for people who don't "look" the way society expects. For instance, the number of men I see absolutely destroyed by these thoughts, feelings, and compulsions is really almost astonishing. We need to do better for everybody - everybody deserves the help they want and need.
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anyasathenaeum · 4 months
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Guide (Inexperienced!Choso x Reader smut)
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A/N: This is another thing nobody asked for, but... listen, I have a pantheon of anime husbands and Choso is WAY up there. So yeah, uh, have this inexperienced!Choso x flatmate!reader piece because I love him and my husband deserves nice things and sMASH SMASH SMA- Warnings: MINORS DNI, AFAB!reader, female terms and body parts are used, mentions of penetrative sex, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, FOLKS), rough sex (a bit? not really, maybe if you squint lol), overstimulation, swearing.
Choso couldn't sleep.
3:24am.
The red, glowing numbers on the clock face by his bed seemed to mock him, reminding him of his inability to sleep and drawing his attention to the feelings coursing through his body. The very same feelings he was trying so very hard to ignore.
Choso may have been over 150 years old, and yet, this body, HIS body, was new to him. Its needs, its functions, the feelings it caused, every little detail was new. Despite his 150 years on this earth, he was still new in almost every single way.
Thankfully, you had been there for Choso every step of the way as he learned to understand his body and what it meant to be human. Besides being the person with whom Choso shared his apartment, you were also undoubtedly his best and closest friend, his favourite person outside of his family and the person around whom he always felt at peace and... happy. You were always open and accepting of him and his seemingly endless questions about the feelings and sensations in his body, never brushing him off or making him feel bad about his lack of knowledge or understanding.
But this... this was different.
Choso's brain suddenly seemed to be lacking an off switch, his mind conjuring up all sorts of images that he couldn't understand. Why was he constantly picturing you underneath him, your cheeks beautifully pink, your body bare and your skin pressed against his? Why did Choso want nothing but to rip the clothes straight off of you every time he saw you now? Why did picturing these things make his whole body feel like it was on fire, as if pure lava coursed through his veins? Why did his pants around his crotch suddenly become very, very tight every time those images flashed in his head? Why did it feel like you had become his very center of gravity?
Why? Why? Why?
Choso didn't understand this constant, desperate, aching need inside him. He didn't understand why you triggered that need every time he saw you or caught your scent. And so, despite it being the early hours of the morning, he decided that he would do exactly what he had always done when he didn't understand something about his body - he would ask you.
Slowly, Choso got out of bed and padded down the hallway to your bedroom. He knocked on your door loudly enough for you to wake, and he could hear you shuffling slowly in your room for a few moments before your door opened.
The sight of you before him, all sleepy and cuddly-looking, made Choso's heart squeeze in his chest for some reason. Your expression was scrunched up in confusion as you gazed at the man in front of you, stifling a small yawn before speaking to him, your voice thick with sleep.
"Choso? What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry for waking you, (Y/N). I couldn't sleep. I'm experiencing some new feelings and they don't make sense to me. They're keeping me awake. Could you help me?"
Your eyes widen a bit as you hear his explanation, and the small, warm smile that appears on your face makes Choso want to grab your face and smash his lips against yours while tugging each scrap of clothing blocking him from feeling your warm skin off of you. However, he restrained himself, his hand tightening into a fist as he struggled to keep himself in check as you invited him into your room.
'Why? Why do I wanna do that?' The voice in his head inquired, but Choso simply brushed it off before following you into your bedroom.
The moment he crossed into your room, it was as if a haze came over him. Your scent seemed to envelope him, clinging to his skin as he walked behind you, filling him to the brim with a fire that seemed to burn in his very bones, refusing to be quenched no matter what he did. He watched as you snuggled back into your bed and patted a spot next to you, inviting him to sit with you and explain whatever was bothering him.
Carefully, Choso sat next to you in your bed, his body stiff as he tried to find a comfortable position without making you uncomfortable. However, you never complained when he brushed up against you, instead just snuggling in a bit closer, your warmth radiating against him and warming him in a different way than the fire in his bones did.
"So..." You spoke gently, gazing up at your best friend, "What's troubling you?"
Choso took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to express what he was feeling to you. After a couple moments, he began to speak, his voice low and almost embarrassed as he tried to explain his situation.
"Well... my body seems to feel like it's constantly filled with fire. My brain just seems to race constantly, showing me all sorts of images that make my body feel hot. Once I get hot, I feel this... pressure inside me, almost bordering on pain, sometimes. My pants tend to get tight and I feel some kind of desperate need. I don't know what my body wants, but there's usually a throbbing feeling and hardness between my legs that comes with it. I don't really know how to explain it or how to make it stop. It only seems to happen around you, (Y/N). Am I... sick or something? I don't understand what's happening to me."
When Choso looked at you, he was surprised to see that your eyes were wider than he had ever seen, your expression one of completely shock and surprise, as well as something he didn't quite know how to describe.
As Choso explained this new sensation, you felt your heart beginning to race in your chest and heat rising to your face as you realized exactly what he was talking about, and you pointedly tried to ignore the heat that suddenly throbbed between your thighs. You blinked a couple times as he spoke, trying to figure out if you were truly hearing him right.
What Choso was experiencing was sexual attraction. To you.
"(Y/N)?"
Choso's voice was now worried, and when you looked up at him, you realized he was watching you attentively, concern evident on his face as he no doubt waited for your reply. You quickly cleared your throat and sat up, trying not to let your own emotions stop you from helping Choso understand.
"Sorry! So, uh.... w-well, you're not sick, Choso. What you're feeling, u-um... is pretty common amongst humans."
You found yourself struggling to get the words out, even more heat rushing to your face as you tried to continue your shaky start of an explanation. It didn't help that you had Choso's undivided attention, his eyes trained on you with surprising intensity and interest. You took a deep breath before continuing.
"What you're feeling is sexual attraction. It's basically your body signaling that you're interested in somebody in a sexual sense and that you'd essentially like to... um... mate with them, I guess? That's probably the simplest way to explain it. It's thanks to your instincts, really. Of course, most people just refer to it as being "horny"."
Choso's eyes were wide as you finished talking, and he looked at you curiously for a couple moments before asking bluntly, "So that feeling is my body wanting me to mate with you?"
Your face felt like it was on fire as you tried not to choke on your own spit at his question. After taking a second to recover, you simply shrugged, acting as if this was a totally normal conversation to be having at 3 in the morning with your best friend that you had secretly been pining after for God knows how long.
"I guess so. H-Have you felt that for anybody else?"
"No," Choso replied immediately, studying you carefully as his emotions began to take over his words, "You're the only one who ever makes me feel that way. Being around you makes me want to do things to you, with you. Being around you makes me want to hold you. Kiss you. Rip the clothes off your body because I can't feel your skin when you wear them. And..."
He trailed off, looking down at his hands for a moment before looking back up at you, his pale face now flushed with colour and his voice dangerously low.
"And it's all driving me crazy. You, (Y/N). You're driving me crazy."
Your heart all but cheered in your chest at his admission, and you couldn't help the smile that appeared on your lips as you felt a surge of relief, happiness and desire course through your veins.
"Do you want me to help you with those feelings, Choso?"
In any other circumstances, you wouldn't have been brave enough to be so upfront in your question, but the part of you that had been longing after the dark-haired half-cursed spirit for so long had taken over and thrown caution to the wind. You would be damned if you would let this moment pass you by.
Choso's beautiful honey-coloured eyes widened at your question, nodding his head immediately in reply, "Of course I do. I don't want anybody except you, (Y/N). It's..." His voice faltered, falling to so quiet a whisper that you almost missed it. "It's always been you."
Before you could stop yourself, you shifted forward and gently pressed your lips against his as your heart sang in your chest at his confession. As you kissed him, you were careful not to overwhelm him by kissing him too hard or too passionately right from the start, knowing that this was definitely his first kiss. However, regardless of this being his first kiss, Choso was kissing you back immediately with enough energy and passion that he just about knocked you backwards into your bed.
His taste was addictive, and you found your hands burying themselves into his dark hair as you shifted closer to him, his tongue swiping your bottom lip as though asking for permission to deepen the kiss. You happily allowed it, relishing every second of the kiss with the man you'd been quietly yearning for. You gasped softly as Choso lifted you with ease, as if you weighed nothing at all, and placed you in his lap, never once breaking away from you or stopping your kiss.
Now that he finally understood what he was feeling for you, and to see that you felt the same way about him, Choso felt truly happy. His soul itself was filled with a warmth that he hadn't ever felt before, not even for his brothers. These feelings he had for you were something else entirely, powerful in their own right and a different entity than the love he harboured for his family. Sure, there was the sexual attraction you had described to him, but his feelings for you weren't comprised of just that. This was something more, and while Choso didn't exactly have the words to describe it just yet, in this moment, he didn't care. He had you, and that's all he needed.
You pulled away from Choso suddenly, both of you panting and with swollen lips from the intensity of your kissing. A soft whine escaped him the moment you stopped, an adorable pout appearing almost immediately on his lips as he leaned towards you, clearly wanting nothing more desperately than to continue kissing you.
"No... (Y/N), please don't stop..."
You wanted to coo at how sweet Choso was, and you fought hard to resist the temptation of kissing him once more, instead moving backwards a bit and grinning at him warmly.
"Now, now, patience, Choso. You'll get more kisses, don't worry. I just want to do something else for you first. I'm going to take your pants off. Is that okay?"
Choso pouted a bit at not being able to kiss you more, but gave you a nod in return, the colour in his cheeks darkening. With his consent, you gently brought your hands down to the waistband of his sweatpants, where there was a very obvious tent. Gently, you tugged the sweatpants off of his hips, pulling them down oh-so-slowly as you revealed more and more of Choso's bare skin, his treasure trail, and eventually, his dick finally sprung free. Your eyes widened as you stared at his cock, at its angry red tip, already dribbling precum from its slit and how it seemed to throb gently in time to Choso's heartbeat. While it wasn't super big, it was definitely much thicker than you expected and your pussy positively throbbed at the thought of having his cock deep inside you, stretching you out in a way nothing else ever would.
"I-Is it okay?"
Choso's voice quivered a bit, giving away his nervousness as you continued to stare at his cock with wide eyes. He couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious at being bare like this before another person for the first time, let alone it being you.
"You're beautiful, Choso."
You response was breathless and sincere, your eyes glimmering as you looked up at him, the warmest smile you could possibly give him on your lips. The small whimper that escaped Choso at your response made your heart flutter, and you could see his cheeks darkening as he looked away, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.
"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" You said softly, watching Choso carefully to ensure he was comfortable with you proceeding.
With another small whimper from Choso and a quick nod of his head, you gently reached your hand out and wrapped it around his shaft. The moment your soft, warm hand made contact with the silky skin of his cock, without you so much as moving, Choso suddenly shuddered and let out a loud whine. In the same instant, to your surprise, warm cum suddenly dribbled from his slit and got all over your hand.
"H-Hah... hah, fuck, 'm sorry... 'm so sorry, (Y/N)... i-it just... felt so good... I've never felt anything like that before..."
Choso couldn't meet your eyes as he whimpered out his apology, his cheeks a deep shade of red, embarrassment and a hint of confusion clear in his expression. Your heart lurched in your chest once more at just how sweet he was, and you couldn't help but giggle a little.
"Don't apologize, Choso. You came, that happens when you feel really good. It's normal. Nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact..." You smiled seductively as you looked him in the eyes, feeling more playful than before, "I plan on guiding you through it all and making you cum a few more times before the night's over."
The look on Choso's face was absolutely priceless, his eyes wide in surprise and his the colour in his face somehow darkening even more than before. Wiping your hand with a face cloth, you helped him get more comfortable, letting him rest against your headboard as you wriggled off his sweatpants the rest of the way followed by his shirt, revealing his toned and muscled torso, his defined abs, arms and back.
You could feel your own slick soaking through the pants of your pyjamas just at the sight of Choso naked in your bed, and you struggled to restrain yourself from touching yourself throughout all of this. How badly you wanted to sink your fingers into your weeping pussy, just for some hint of relief. Or better yet, have Choso use his long, thick fingers to make you see stars. But this was about him, now, and ensuring he had a good first sexual experience. So, you kept yourself in check and just focused on him, getting yourself comfortable as you laid between his thighs, once again taking his still-hard cock into your hands. You heard Choso let out a soft hiss and felt his dick throb and twitch in your hands at the contact, making you smile softly - he was so sensitive.
"Ready for the next part?" You teased gently, gazing up at the beautiful man before you.
"Yes, (Y/N)... p-please... more," Choso whined softly, squirming slightly beneath your touch as his cock twitched once more, his desire obvious in his voice and in his eyes.
Without so much as an answer, you leaned down and took the tip of Choso's cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip slowly. Choso positively mewled at the feeling of your warm mouth around him and the feeling of your tongue teasing his sensitive tip and slit, his orgasm already building once more as you continued.
"(Y/N)... o-oh, fuck... o-oh, yes, please, more! Please!"
Hearing Choso beg you for more made your pussy throb and drove you to take more of him in your mouth, taking his cock as far down your throat as you could as your tongue traced the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. More beautiful sounds came from Choso as you did this: moans of your name, curse words and soft whimpers and whines filled the room, until suddenly-
"'m gonna cum! F-Fuck, (Y/N), 'm gonna cum! (Y/N)!"
You felt a large hand tangle through your hair and push your head down a bit as Choso bucked his hips upward, forcing his cock just a bit deeper and making you gag slightly and your eyes water a bit as copious amounts of cum gushed down your throat. You squeezed your thighs together at the unintentionally rough treatment Choso had just given you, his fingers still tangled in your hair as he pulled you gently off his cock, his eyes filled with worry.
"Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you or be rough, (Y/N). I'm really, really sorry."
Even in the midst of recovering from his orgasm, Choso was still worried for you, which made your heart flutter and your pussy practically gush. You shook your head, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before answering.
"It's okay, Choso. Don't worry about it, I'm alright. You didn't hurt me, it was just a little surprising, that's all."
Relief coursed through the man's veins as you confirmed that he hadn't hurt you or gone too far, a shaky breath escaping him as he leaned back against the headboard, still panting softly as he tried to regain his wits after his second orgasm of the night.
As you took in the sight of Choso naked in your bed, sat against your headboard with his arm slung over his eyes, his dark hair loose and his chest rising and falling with each breath, you couldn't help but be completely mesmerized by him. He was truly the most beautiful man you'd ever seen. It also did not escape your attention that somehow, even after two intense orgasms, his cock was still rock hard. Just how much more could he take?
Without much more thought, you found yourself stripping off your pyjamas, leaving you naked at last. You shivered and felt goosebumps erupt as you felt the cool night air brush over your skin, especially the skin that was positively soaked on the inside of and between your thighs.
"Choso," You called softly, wanting the man to look at you, to see you like this.
When Choso lowered his arm from his eyes and caught sight of your naked body before him, his honey-coloured eyes widened and became bigger than you'd ever seen before, his mouth dropping open slightly and his cheeks flushing once again.
You were so beautiful. Choso couldn't have even begun to imagine this kind of beauty, and to see you like this made his heart race frantically in his chest. He took in every detail of your body, his gaze lingering on your breasts for a few moments before continuing down your body. You looked so soft, your skin lit by the soft glow of the moon, and Choso wanted nothing than to touch you, hold you, stroke you, caress you and never let you go. Not even for a second.
Yet, when his gaze got down to your thighs, where he could see the slick coating your skin and the way it glistened, the scent of your arousal just barely teasing him, something inside Choso snapped. Gone were the thoughts of simply holding you or caressing you softly, instead replaced by a burning, all-consuming need. The same fire from before, multiplied a millions times in intensity, coursed through Choso's veins, and all he could do was give in to his instincts as they took over.
"Choso? Are you oka-ah!"
You yelped as Choso practically pounced on you, pressing his lips against your passionately as he flipped you into your bed so you were laying beneath him. You moaned into the kiss as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you deeper and more hungrily than you'd ever been kissed before.
Following his instincts, Choso rolled his hips, letting his cock drag through the soaked folds of your pussy and against your clit, making you moan out loudly from beneath him. You arched your back to allow him to keep grinding his dick against your cunt and clit, reveling in the feeling of pleasure he was giving you. Pulling away from your kiss, Choso brought his head down so his lips were by your ear so you could hear him panting softly.
"W-Want you," Choso whined, pressing desperate kisses to the side of your face and down your neck, "W-Want you so bad, (Y/N). Wanna... wanna be inside you."
As he whined those last few words, you felt the head of his cock catch on your entrance, making you gasp and jump slightly at the feeling. You could only bring yourself to nod your head, unable to speak as you felt Choso gently nuzzling your cheek with the tip of his nose. Without any other words, you felt him press his hips into yours, driving his cock into you slowly, inch by inch.
The stretch stung, a small hiss escaping you as you felt your pussy adjusting to the size of him. You'd never felt a cock as thick as his, and you let out a low moan at just how full you felt.
You could hear the man whining and whimpering your name over and over as he continued to slowly press himself into you to the hilt, the feeling of your warm, tight, spongy walls clenching around his cock and the way they seemed to pulse driving him dangerously close to cumming already.
"C-Cho... C-Cho..." Your voice wavered slightly as you struggled to form coherent words, "Feels s'good... you're... so big..."
Just feeling him inside you, pressing perfectly against that spongy, gummy spot, made you see stars. It felt as if you were made for each other, with him filling you just right and making you feel things nobody had ever made you feel before. However, before you could open your mouth to guide Choso through the next part, his instincts took over and he pulled out until just the tip was left inside you before thrusting back into you. A cry escaped your lips at the sudden feeling, your back arching in response and pleasure erupting through your veins as Choso observed you, his eyes trained on you carefully despite him panting softly. When he saw how you reacted, he took it as a sign to continue.
Without hesitation, Choso began to thrust into you almost desperately, hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over, his fingers intertwining with yours and holding your hand close as he fucked you into the mattress.
"F-Fuck, (Y/N), you're so tight... pussy's so good... so wet..." Choso whimpered, his movements suddenly stuttering and a low groan escaping him, "(Y/N)... g-gonna cum... gonna-!"
With a final thrust, he slammed himself to the hilt inside you, spilling himself and letting his cum fill you to the brim, coating your walls and pulling a moan of his name from your lips.
"C-Cho... God, th-that felt so good... so-ah!"
You cried out as Choso suddenly continued to thrust into you, slamming his hips against you even faster and harder than before, driving his cock deeper into you.
"'M sorry, (Y/N). 'M sorry, need you. Need more. 'M sorry, need you. S'good, 'm sorry, (Y/N), can't stop," Choso babbled in your ear as he continued to thrust into you, his large hands coming up to grasp your hips with a nearly-bruising grip.
The way Choso angled your hips allowed him to hit even deeper, that perfect spot being massaged continuously by the head of his cock, likely without him even realizing what he was doing to you. All you could do was focus on the feeling of him inside you and just good he made you feel.
Your nails dug into his back as you felt yourself coming close to cumming, your whole body tensing as you practically sobbed out, "'M gonna cum! C-Cho, 'm gonna cum! Cumming!"
Your orgasm hit you like a train, overwhelming you and washing over you in wave after wave. The way your pussy spasmed around Choso's cock made him cum again, yet unlike the first time, he didn't stop his thrusts. Instead, he continued to thrust into you, prolonging your orgasm despite overstimulating himself.
You thought he'd stop once your orgasm subsided, but how wrong you were. Choso kept going, fucking you relentlessly and cumming inside you over and over again, apologizing, whining and moaning your name until he was babbling complete nonsense and tears coursed down his beautiful face from overstimulation. He'd made you cum countless times, and you found your whole body feeling like your bones as disappeared by the time he'd finally pulled out, too tired ad overstimulated to continue.
Neither of you had the energy to get towels to clean yourselves off, but you couldn't care less as Choso collapsed into your bed next to you, his face red and his chest heaving from his exertion. As soon as he laid next to you, you found yourself being pulled into his arms, your face coming to rest against his bare chest as he held you close, your skin pressed against his. Gone was the intense, aroused Choso from earlier, instead replaced by his usual, tender and gentle counterpart. You could feel Choso nuzzling his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent as he held you close, endorphins surely coursing through his veins like crazy at this point.
You sighed as you snuggled in against him, your voice no louder than a whisper, "Jeez, Choso... I don't think you really needed me to guide you."
A low rumble of a chuckle escaped him, and you felt him press a gentle kiss to your temple as he answered softly, "Yes, I did. You helped me learn, (Y/N). Thank you." His expression fell a bit as he continued, "Was it too much, though? I'm really sorry. I just... couldn't stop. Something in me just... wanted to keep going."
"No," You giggled softly, looking up at him with a smile as heat rushed to your face, "It was amazing. I just wasn't expecting you to keep going like that."
Choso shrugged before leaning forward, a lazy grin on his face as he whispered lowly into your ear, "What can I say? You drive me crazy, (Y/N). And now that I know that this feeling is me wanting you, I'll only ever want you more and more than ever before. You're mine (Y/N). And I'll always make sure you remember that."
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brilokuloj · 1 year
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I've been trying harder lately to not be paranoid and assume bad faith in others, so I have chosen to believe that people who post "eww, humans" might not consider how their sentiment impacts people who are already hurting. Frequently, I think they are posting it because of their own bad feelings and struggles, and don't think about how that would make their friends and community feel.
In fact, a lot of the "human bodies are bad" sentiment revolves around how human bodies are impractical (disabled bodies are negative), sex is nasty and genitals are weird (transitioned bodies are negative)...
So, if I may, here are things I think we need more of:
Human positivity, or at least tolerance, especially of the gross and yucky and boring parts
Furries/aliens/robots/etc who love their human partners (and the focus is NOT on how cute or sexy the nonhuman is for doing so). Relationships that are mutual and not a Connecticut Clark joke.
Humans from an alien but not negative perspective
Nonhumanity as not a better but simply alternative experience
and I guess probably this far in you're already thinking "most media is human-positive" but MCU dudes and anime boys are like pugs to me, they can't live.
Characters that live without prosthetics, or get feasible or life-impacting ones, rather than Cool Robot Parts; aesthetics (or sex factor.) should not justify or make up for a disability; a character that makes you think "gee, I wish they would cut my arm off!" is not disability representation. I have experienced people listing Junkrat as proof they could be attracted to me as a mobility aid user.
Humans will not destroy machinery, no robot uprising, but rather they maintain the mutual relationship they've always had (and less of using robots as a stand-in for autism representation. My God.)
Many human women were computers before machines were computers. I just think this is cool and not really explored :(
Top surgery scars that are not like cool perfectly-symmetrical explosions or jagged teeth. Get a tattoo if you want, but a lot of the time scars are raised and shiny, which I rarely see either.
I doubt anyone in the world enjoys their period, but they're frequently pointed to as "proof" that humans aren't worth being. If your periods make you lay down on the floor and want to kill yourself for a week, you seriously should see a doctor if you can. I didn't know until it was way too late that I had other options, because periods are too yucky to candidly discuss and no one told me it wasn't normal.
Testosterone gives you acne. Spironolactone makes you need to pee more. There's a lot of unexpected things like that, and they are not objectively gross or sexy; they're just things that happen, that deserve to be discussed.
Fursuit poodling (having uncovered skin in a partial fursuit). It's not gross, it doesn't 'break the magic'. Fursuiting is sweltering exhausting work, and real humans are inside them, and they deserve to be appreciated.
It can be really hurtful to blithely say that human genitals are disgusting, especially in front of people who may want to one day pursue affirmative surgery. If someone personally doesn't like dongs, I wish they would just say that. Jeez.
Nobody is "better" for having an aversion to human bodies for whatever reason. I understand personally that it can be isolating, especially if those reasons are trauma-related. But turning your sexual attractions into a matter of you being "better", or a clubhouse, is not really coping with it. Disgust is not a judgment of morals or quality. It's an emotion, and one that can be very hurtful to people who are already getting hurt.
Because nothing is Good or Bad. It just is what it is. Judging people's right to exist and be depicted, based on sex appeal or morality (or god forbid, purity, which I've seen more of recently, somehow completely ignoring the religious abuse connotations) is... messed up.
And to make this post not just me complaining, you can share your creations or ideas that you feel like apply, if you want :)
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worstlovesong · 5 months
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asks for distractions: what are your favourite lucy lyrics? (solo + boygenius inclusive!)
Thank youuu <3 I apologize in advance for anyone who thought I could be normal about this because I am simply Insane about Lucy’s writing <3
“We had a lot to measure / We had more past than pleasure / And time grows deep like weeds” - Dream state…
This song hits me hard post-bad-friendship but this lyric sticks with me. Realizing that even if there was a lot of memories built with someone, they may not be Good Ones. Realizing after the fact that perhaps the time spent together wasn’t as good as it once seemed. Time is always moving forward and now that you’re away from them, you’re left with a mind full of invasive weeds to pluck through in search of new growth.
“If beauty is the only way / To make the nightmares go away / I'll plant a garden in your brain / And let the roots absorb the pain” - Trust
This chorus makes me so !!!!! Like oh my god. It’s just beautiful, it’s a promise of a loved one wanting to ease your pain and soothe your fears in the gentlest way. It’s a promise to yourself, to find beauty in the world and hold onto it because then there’s a reason to keep going.
“Don't hold your breath, forget you ever saw me at my best / You don't deserve what you don't respect / Don't deserve what you say you love and then neglect” - Night Shift
This song in its entirety is just a fucking masterpiece. I love it so much and I struggle to express why. This part specifically gets across exactly what I want to say to someone who hurt me and it honestly helps me reframe my thoughts because No this person does not deserve me at my best or at all because they did not respect or love me like they said they did ‼️
“Believe me, I'm speaking plainly and painfully/Trying to stay elegant, eloquent and delicate to you” - Body to Flame
This one just scratches my brain tbh. This whole song is beautiful and just the very human concept of knowing someone so well and yet somehow not fully understanding them because we are all so unpredictable
“The future isn't worth its weight in gold / The future is a benevolent black hole” - Cartwheel
Not being ready to face the future, especially when it takes things and people away from you. Change is hard, change is scary, change is autism’s worst nightmare (and therefore mine). Yet she also implies that the future, while vast and unknown and forcing change, is not inherently evil. The future can bring good things, even if you’re not ready for it.
“I wanna run my fingers through you / You say nobody understands you like I do” - Partner in Crime
Once again this just makes my brain go ‼️
“You called me cerebral / I didn't know what you meant / But now I do, would it have killed you / To call me pretty instead?” -Brando
This line and I Don’t Wanna Be Funny Anymore hit me for the same reasons. Growing up being forced into the role of the funny one or the smart one but I was never pretty. It’s just that frustration with people who can’t even bother to give straightforward praise/compliments, calling you an old soul or wise for your age or cerebral. What does that even mean, when you’re 10 years old and just like to read books but they paint you as a scholar or you’re 15 and you’ve never had someone other than your grandmother tell you you’re beautiful. Like goddamn just let me be pretty for once.
“I'm staring at my hands / Red, ruddy skin, I don't understand / How did they betray me? What did I do?” - Triple Dog Dare
After I came out to my family at 15 years old I wasn’t allowed to see my friends outside of school for months. I internalized it, I mean I was still dealing with severe internalized homophobia from the church and I thought it must be My Fault. I remember apologizing to my friends, crying, because I wasn’t allowed to come over or hang out with them. As if it was my fault. I would spend hours regretting coming out, wondering what I did that was so wrong. This line just sits in my brain and wow Lucy Dacus is just like me fr
“I want you to tell me that you miss me / Want you to hold and hurt and kiss me / I wanna run away and live on your family's boat” - Triple Dog Dare
As you can tell by my pinned post I have Feelings about this verse. I’ve posted about this before but this song is the perfect example of young queer love and how adults interfere and see it as impure. This line specifically just highlights that need to be with that person, for them to hold you and kiss you and even if they’re hurting you at least it’s proof they’re there. The need to to run away with them because even if you’re missing at least you’re together in the end. God this song makes me fucking feral.
“But it feels good to be known so well / I can't hide from you like I hide from myself / I remember who I am when I'm with you / Your love is tough, your love is tried and true-blue” -True Blue
I’m really gay and I love my girlfriend <3
But also like this song just fucking hits oh my god. Being known and loved by someone in a way that is so genuine, so honest, so raw. The parts of yourself you are ashamed of they embrace openly. A dependable and honest love that makes you remember yourself, truly see yourself.
“I wanna live a vibrant life / But I wanna die a boring death”
AND
“Oh, it hurts to hope for more / Oh, it hurts to hope the future / Will be better than before” - Afraid of Heights
I remember after my first listen of this song I just sat there stunned, crying. This song is so dear to me and Lucy has my entire heart. I relate to the concept of a toxic friendship in which the person pushes your boundaries and shames you for them. Every word of this song resonates and I’m so tired so I don’t think I can do it justice but I truly have many thoughts on it.
The wish to just live a bright and exciting life but not die in a risky, stressful, painful way. The pain of the unknown, of the future, once again going back to the benevolent black hole. Just hoping that one day things will be better because it’s all you can hold on to but it hurts so much some days
This got so long 🫠 I recognize I have a problem and I just want y’all to know I love Lucy Dacus she’s everything to me <33
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As I'm learning about my narcissistic traits and the fact I could very well have NPD, I just make jokes about how I'm a big scary abuser to my friend especially when I see ableist stuff.
I saw something that said narcissists are never satisfied and to not expect headpats.
So I jokingly told my friend I could no longer give them headpats be a use I'm a mean narcissist that can't do that. They asked me for headpats and I said no. Then I gave them headpats.
Also yeah, I'm never satisified. But not in the way they mean. I never feel satisfied because it's like I'm always chasing some form of happiness. And cause of BPD, I feel chronically empty and hollow. It's like how Greed in Fullmetal alchemist brotherhood was described as feeling empty and needing to fill it with things. That is when I realized that what I was feeling was emptiness.
But overall the fact that I could be a narcissist only fuels narcissistic feelings. Maybe it's cause I've denied myself these feelings for so long and hid my narcissistic traits to appear "good" so no one could say I was a monster and now I just don't care.
Narcissists can love, but even if they struggle to or can't, that's valid too. It doesn't mean they can't be civil to others. This goes for any disorder or any person that doesn't feel close to others, experience love (in any form, not just romantic), or bonds with others. It's okay.
I personally feel isolated from everyone around me, sometimes MA too. I feel as though I don't actually want to have any people in my life. It's mostly scary for me since it's such a difference from how I normally feel, but it's not a bad thing. Cause we are disordered. We never asked for this, but we are this way. And it doesn't matter if you crave friendships, if you want any relationship, or if you struggle to love or don't feel it. And hey, even if you do have some disorder that is stereotyped as not needing/wanting/can't love but you can love or want it, that is entirely valid too. Because disorders exist on spectrums and symptoms are different in each and affect people differently. One person may not want kids or a family or animals, another might.
MA and I both have BPD, DPD, AVPD, and PPD yet it is so different between us. We both have autism and ADHD yet it's very different between us.
No matter what, the absence of feeling love or forming bonds doesn't make you "not human" or anything. This is so used against personality disorders as well as the aspec folks since so much importance is placed on romantic/sexual relationships. But it doesn't matter. Cause you can still choose to be decent to others and you still matter and friendships can be formed for many reasons outside of companionship.
No matter what, y'all are so valid. And if anyone says you're bad/evil or whatever for low empathy, no empathy, fluctuating empathy, not wanting any form of love, not connecting with others, not desiring any sort of relationship, for putting yourself first, for being in your own world, then they're wrong. Because you don't need any of that to be human or to be good. Everyone has the capability to do good or bad and we all fall in a middle range. And that's okay.
And I'm gonna repeat this as many times as I need. Cause nobody should be made to feel non-human for simply having a disorder (or being aspec since they get it too) or for the way they experience things.
And you all deserve to be treated with respect too. Just cause someone is different or disordered or may be entirely different from someone's understanding does not mean they aren't worthy of respect and decency. And I'll stand by that.
Anyway I might be a narcissist and I make jokes about it because it actually helps me realize my narcissistic traits. Being overdramatic cause of HPD (and naturally autism, I am an overdramatic bean but it became part of HPD cuz trauma lolz) helps with it too.
But I'm glad my best friend MA accepts it and I've found a good community on Tumblr and insta to see it. It's helped me realize a lot of my "demonized traits" and learning to humanize them and allow myself to just be. I tried so hard to be good and perfect so no one could make me into a monster and yet all it did was hurt me. I might be narcissistic and I'm okay with that.
Cause yeah, disorders are hell, but when your disorders have been demonized and you've tried so hard to pretend you don't have them, accepting that you do have them and celebrating them is a wonderful feeling. Cause I could have NPD, I really think I do, and suddenly many of my coping mechanisms and my need for attention and praise and my desire to be loved and adored despite not wanting to put in the effort for it makes sense. All these thoughts that I believed would make people hate me suddenly make so much sense. And so I'm happy that I have the word for it, the term for it and that it can give me a better view on working through my trauma and my mental state.
Having these terms helps so much because it really makes you realize things about yourself.
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candy-fae · 1 year
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Back to Carlie sort of watches supernatural hour!!!
I tried I Tried I TRIED to give dean a chance bc y'all kept saying "no he gets better Carlie!!" And "pay attention Carlie!! " and "WATCH THE WHOLE EPISODE INSTEAD OF JUST SKIMMING WHILE U DRAW CARLIE" and I said fine!!
Fuck it!!! Lemme watch the next episode.
So I put on Season 7, episode 3.
I hate him I hate him I hate him lolololol
The whole episode I just felt horrible for Amy Pond.
I've never been a huge anime fan, but one of the few I HAVE watched has been Tokyo Ghoul. For those who haven't seen it, the premise is that ghouls need human meat to survive, and must hide amongst humanity so as not to get absolutely murdered by ghoul hunters who have learned how to hunt and kill them.
Ghouls have found alternative ways of getting flesh, much like Amy Pond, whom spoiler, works at a morgue. Throughout the series, we see ghouls struggles to hold onto humanity, and try to exist and hold normal bonds and lives. One such perspective is from a mother and small daughter who comes to our main cast for help. Just remember that.
Now, due to our monster, Amy's son getting sick, in a panic, she kills some ppl to feed him. Oopsie, but like, slay momma bear.
Sam also happens to know her personally, and when he finds out she was just doing this one bad thing this ONE time, he leaves her be. Says that's what most people would do in that situation. Dean lies, and tells Sam he trusts his judgment, and then promptly what does he do??
He tracks her down.
And kills her in front of her son, telling her it is her nature that makes her a monster and eventually she will kill again.
And in my head all I saw was the scene in Tokyo Ghoul, where we get the perspective of said monsters. A mother fights to save her baby, and loses her life, just for the baby to be traumatized, and GRIEVE and hate herself for just being born. The question arises, do we as monsters, deserve to even live just because of what we need to survive? If it is sourced ethically, and they aren't actively hurting anyone, do they still deserve the death penalty? I meant hey, sure, maybe they would have killed people in the future. Junior catches the flu and now mommy needs to go Merc an old dying person.
Maybe! But he just simply doesn't believe in hope, and change, or seperating yourself from the cards you were delt, and it's shitty.
He's a shitty, shitty guy, and I think everyone gives him a pass because of the trauma he's been through, and the fact that he's pretty but like noooooo??
Ps. I hope the son, who's just an orphan now I GUESS, does in fact come back, and I hope he Hurts him bad. Nobody chose to be born the way they are, and I guarantee his kill count was higher than hers lmao I just really am not loving this guy like everyone made me think I would. Consider me a meanie little hater who doesn't know what she's talking about bc again!! I'm maybe only watching the parts where he's the WORST, but I was still mad about the werewolf girl, and I'm noticing a pattern with the women here.
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retro-hero-5 · 3 months
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So much shit in my followings/tags/for-you/fucking-all-of-tumblr-it-feels-like has been people venting or screenshotting or highlighting transphobia and queer discourse of all kinds. It's important to point this out so people know what/who to watch out for, but I know that it can still feel very disheartening to see. Because of this I just want anybody who sees this to know that I love you for who you are.
You are valid for whatever gender or lack thereof you have chosen to identify as. Neogender, transgender, cis, nonbinary, agender, unlabled, and everyone else. Nobody can take that away from you, and your choice deserves to be respected. Anyone who tries to fit you in a community you don't want to be in, or pull you out of one you want to be a part of, is being overly controlling and is not prioritizing your mental health over their comfort.
You are valid for your sexuality or lack thereof, regardless of any other factors. Being transgender does not inavildate your homosexual or heterosexual feelings. Gender and its relation to sex is complicated, and even if you use terms that seem contradictory, you are valid. People who tell you you can't identify the way you do should simply mind their own business.
You are valid for your kinks or lack thereof. You don't need to hide who you are and anyone who judges you for that is inconsiderate and has no reason to. You should never be made to feel guilty or gross because something you are into is associated with bad behavior when you practice it safely and consensualy, anyone who argues otherwise is jumping to conclusions and does not have your best interests at heart.
You have inherit value as a human being, no matter what you have done or what you are capable of doing. Having any form of disability does not make you any less of a person that someone without one. Messing up a certain way does not strip you of your right to exist, you can grow and change. Anyone who tries to tell you that you are irredeemable, a burden, or worthless, is only living in a selfish present. Their ideas are ignorant of human nature and people like them should be ignored.
Your experiences and injuries are real, and your feelings about them are valid even if others can't understand them. You don't have to feel okay because it's been a long time. You don't have to feel okay because other people have survived worse. You can decide to feel okay on your own terms. You don't have to become healthy or stop using any aid just because you aren't obviously hurting. Grief, pain, trauma, and all other struggles come and go with time.
You are valid, and so long as you show the same acceptance to others you will be welcome near me <3
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ganymedesclock · 3 years
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So I discovered the trailer for Belle (2021), and it’s making me think about what I love about Beauty and the Beast riffs, and what makes a story scratch that particular itch for me or not.
And I think a huge part of it for me is the examination of monstrosity as a social role. To just use Disney’s animated classic as my base for comparison here, Adam, The Beast, is not literally cursed with fur and fangs, claws and horns- he has those things, and may have mixed feelings about them, others certainly have bad reactions to them-
-his curse is ostracization. His curse is to not be seen as human. What actual, physical features he has are irrelevant to that. They’re just quirks he can learn to live with, or a further excuse to tell himself he deserves this isolation, this frustration, this misery.
So the breaking of the curse, to me, is not the scene where Belle sobs confirmation of what we knew well before then into his stilling chest and brings him back, minus those quirks- if anything, that his happiness comes with the loss of those things has seemed to me (and I’m not alone) as almost something of a betrayal depending on how it’s framed.
By contrast, to me, the breaking of the curse is the ballroom scene, and the moments leading up to it. Adam returns to Adam, rather than The Beast, at the point that he decides that he deserves to be treated like a human being- not as a labor of love from Belle, but from himself. Yes, it’s love with Belle that they dance together, that they have this ball scene when there’s no high society to impress, but before that point, he had to make a decision; that he can clean up and dress nice and have an evening. That he deserves to.
When we first see The Beast, he has all of the means and resources to act like a prince, to present like one. He could make himself comfortable and be surrounded by splendor, but the truest thing he suffers under is he’s ceased to see himself as worth the effort. It’s not as if he could cut the fur down and prune back his claws, file down the horns, and look the way he feels he ought to- the way he thinks he should. He’s broken every mirror in his house except for the one he hides from, and this is a gesture of absolute defeat. He knows what he looks like. He can’t pretend he doesn’t. The only way he can tolerate this is not looking at himself.
As a neurodivergent queer person, the monster in the mirror is something I have a very complicated relationship with. I have an “advantage” in some ways. My appearance is not shocking to most people. I do not benefit from an obvious mobility aid or assistive device; I speak within a range people think of is normal. I have an “unusual haircut” for a “girl” and I don’t aggressively correct people on my pronouns or presentation.
But I’ve always had this feeling, that perhaps, my fangs and fur were simply easy things to trim off, and it’s so easy to wonder, would I still be okay if they weren’t? Because really, it’s none of the granular details that make a monster. For every imagined horror creature, there’s almost certainly a real animal it resembles, and real animals are not monsters. A monster is a monster; anything else, we believe, has a place, has a home. Deserves to exist.
To be a monster is to be a thing that doesn’t fit, or, more directly, to be a monster is to be a thing that is unaccepted. Rejected for not fitting. Unworthy of love, from within, or without.
At the end of the day, I know, factually, I am not a monster. I know that I’m a real person. I know that I deserve dignity and respect and love, even if only from myself. I’m not owed another person to love me just to prove that I can be, but, also, no man is an island; as humans we seek each other one way or another, romantically or platonically. That’s a fact of anyone, not just people who struggle to see a real person when they look at their reflection.
And yet, at this same time, I can’t help but feel betrayed, left behind, when the narrative goes that if the monster does everything right its reward is to be shaped into the likeness of a Real Human Being. Because you can’t just pull a feathered skin off me and make me like I “should be”, like my various diagnoses and self-identifications all present me as an aberration from. If you showed me a me without any of those qualities, that’s honestly the thing I’m the most afraid of, a me without me. A Miss Perfect who’s a good, normative daughter, and in my insecurity I wonder if people would like her so much better than me that they wouldn’t miss if I was gone.
Which, that’s nonsense. I know a lot of people who care about me the way I am. But nobody ever said fears had to be rational.
At the end of the day, as much as I hate the idea of being a monster to others, I also relish the notion of qualities that are categorized as monsters. I love dragons. I love putting big, horrible teeth and leering eyes and wings and claws on heroic characters. Because brought into the light, qualities are just qualities. And if you bring those qualities into the favoring, soft light of stories about human connection, romances, queerplatonic bonds, friendships and found family alike, those qualities can even be charming, alluring, inspiring; a character can look like anything and we still feel a rush of reassurance that this specific character is there.
And that’s the other side of Beauty and the Beast: Adam is running away from being a monster, and Belle is trying to run away from who she is, too. Because Belle is the other side of that trap.
Let’s be honest; it isn’t just that Belle’s an outspoken woman with opinions. It’s that she’s pretty. She’s the prettiest girl in town. She’s someone people want, people have expectations for- and those expectations have little room for what she actually wants. Hell, that’s one of the major dangerous driving forces of the climax- Adam nearly gets murdered by a mob because Belle made a choice that her community really didn’t like, especially Gaston, and it’s easy to point to Adam as the wrong choice because he’s pointy.
“Beauty”, as much as “The Beast”, are dehumanizing categories that people are sorted into. The doll and the monster. One is considered beneath monstrosity; beguiling, an object of appeal and desire but not someone with opinions, oh no, and not someone able to make a choice that you disagree with. People driven to the fringes by opposing forces but regardless find each other in the place they’re trying to find room to breathe in.
And that, I think, is one way some of these riffs can, for me personally, miss the point- and that’s not a mark against them, it’s just that there’s a specific thing I see in this story, and it’s very specifically not, “to be beautiful and desirable to mass public consumption is the way to be happy; we will have a story about how to rehabilitate someone so they can be beautiful too” but rather, “what does it mean when people stop seeing you as yourself, whether the alternative is perfection or a monster? what would you do to be seen clearly?”
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New World Order - TFATWS Rewrite Chapter One (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
[Marvel-Masterlist], [TFATWS Rewrite-Masterlist]
Next Chapter
Summary: You were an Avenger. That was how the world viewed you. Nobody else knew about your past & it was for the better. After all, you had Sam. You had Bucky. That had to be enough. At least for now.
Words: 6,214
Warnings: language, sarcasm, expect some sort of slow burn, there are hints already, this is a Bucky fic, which means that it'll focus on his scenes more, spoilers for TFATWS, (Y/E/C) = your eye color
If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤
You were no superhero. At least, you would never say you were one. Your past was filled with actions you regretted. None of it was your fault. It was not your decision to be the child of the leader of a HYDRA base. It was not your decision to grow up like a warrior. Fighting. Killing.
Your father was the bad guy. You knew that now. As a child, you did not see through his facade. How could you? He was your dad. Someone who was supposed to love you endlessly. Those years had shaped you. Into the person you were today.
Deep down, you wished there was a way to make you forget. Forget about your past. Forget about the pain. Forget about it all. Hell, you were a laboratory experiment. Those powers did not come from nowhere. No. They came from tons of needles, pumping a toxic serum into you veins. You should not even be alive anymore. Not by what now flowed through your body. Apparently, it was for your own good. That was how your dad put it. Absolute bullshit. Growing up isolated from the world, being trained to fight, to kill, daily. Your own good my ass. If it did one thing, then it ruined your damn life.
But at least you had powers, right? Blue flames you could control. Those blue flames that were hotter than anything else in this world. It took an awful lot of time to fully have control. Truthfully, you hated that part of you with every fiber of your being. It had been the cause of one too many deaths. You had been the cause. But weakness was not in your nature. If you did not show strength you would be a disappointment. Something you really did not want to be.
Bucky was the reason you got out of this life. He was the one to rescue you out of this hell hole. He was the one to show you an entirely different part of this world. And for that, you could never thank him enough. If it were not for Bucky, you would have gone insane ages ago. Who knew if you were still here today?
The Avengers were aware of your past. Of you being a part of HYDRA back in the days. Yet, you had never elaborated this any further. If there was one thing you were good at, it was keeping things to yourself. No need to burden others with your struggles. And you did struggle. Every single day. Because your mind was filled with memories. Memories you had tried to burn. Memories you wanted to erase. Memories of you being the bad guy. Just like your dad had been.
Your life changed when you were introduced to the Avengers. They did not trust you. Not right away. But during the fight with Thanos, the one after the Blip, you proved yourself to be worthy of their trust. Especially Steve. He had been there for you. When everyone else failed to believe in you. He was gone now. And it hurt like hell. Giving up was never an option. And the universe did not plan on giving you a break anytime soon. For now, you had to bury your feelings as deep as possible. Your focus should solely be on the new threats of this world. Threats, that seemed to increase daily.
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“Bucky is an asshole.” you were on the phone with Sam & the fact that the super soldier had been ignoring him for a while did not leave a good feeling inside his chest.
“What a revelation.” sarcastic comments were part of your life. It was your way of coping with everything. Frankly, it worked. More or less. “Give him some time.”
“More time? No.” sighing loudly. “I have other things to focus on.” he was referring to the mission he was about to perform.
“You sure you’ll be fine on your own?” it was not like you did not believe in his abilities. Just, life had not been the same ever since billions of people came back.
“When have I ever not been?” you could think of a few times but Sam ended the call before you even had the chance to answer. Typical.
Luckily, Sam usually told you about his missions. And you were proud of him. You really were. The situation you found yourself in? With Bucky & him? Well, it was everything but good. Bucky called you. You called Sam. Sam called you. You called Bucky. A circle you kept alive. And it sucked to be their only way of communication. For now, though, both of them were too stubborn to change anything about it.
“Enjoying the Tunisian sun I hope?” whenever Sam went on a mission, you had him call you after it. Simply because he knew you worried.
“You know it.” in the far background you could hear him working on something.
“Is everyone alright? That trainee of yours? What’s his name again?”
“Torres.” he sighed, frustrated by your question. You had asked him about a million times & apparently, you still had no clue. Truth was, you just liked messing with him. “Redwing is hurt.”
“Naaaw, poor baby.” giggling slightly. That man cared more for a piece of tech than he should.
“Shut up.” okay, better not mess with Wilson if it came to Redwing. Got it.
“When are you coming back?” your voice turned serious again. Having him gone for so long did not stick right with you. Obviously, you knew he was doing it for the greater good. But still. “I swear to all the Gods, if you say when we’re done here…” mumbling quietly but loud enough for him to hear.
“When we’re finished here.” a chuckle could be heard from his side. By the way it sounded, you assumed Torres was laughing as well. Rolling your eyes at his antics. He could be such a child sometimes.
“Oh, fuck off, Wilson.”
“Hey, language!” Sam had fun. Yeah, you were the one cracking jokes all of the time but he could deliver, too.
“Okay, you know what? Bye. Text me when you’re back.” now, it was you who did not give him enough time to respond. After all, he would have clapped back with another snarky remark & you were not in the mood for it. At all.
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“Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered posing stoically.” everyone chuckled at Sam’s description. Of him. Steve. Rhodey was standing right next to you. In that suit of his. The one that made him look way more approachable than you. No need for people to approach you. They did not know who you were before. And they sure as hell did not need to. It would turn things complicated. Humans did not like complicated. You did not like it. “The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we’re in. Symbols are nothing without the women & men that give them meaning. And this thing…” he paused briefly, let out a short chuckle. The shield. “I don’t know if there’s ever been a greater symbol. But it’s more about the man who propped it up, & he’s gone. So, today we honor Steve’s legacy. But also, we look to the future. So, thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you.” the crowd erupted into cheers. Applause was filling the room & you felt out of place. What was he doing? When Sam asked you to join him here today, he left out the fact that he wanted to give away the shield. The shield Steve had trusted him enough to own. And the people surrounding you? They…celebrated him for it? This entire speech was proof enough that Wilson was worthy of this job. So why the hell did he make that decision? Watching the shield being put into the showcase, you could hardly hold in the tears that formed at the corners of your (Y/E/C) eyes. Rhodey nudged you, sensing that something was wrong. Head hanging low, you ignored him, walking out of the room as fast as possible. If you stayed here any longer, Sam would have bruises for sure. Bruises caused by you. You would not risk that. Though, he kind of deserved it.
“Where’s (Y/N)?” Sam asked Rhodey when he finished with the press. You had told him you would wait here for him. There was no sign of you.
“Left a while ago.”
“What do you mean “Left a while ago.”? Did she say where she was heading?” why did you decide to leave? Had anything happened while he held his speech? All Rhodey could do was shrug. An explanation was not given by you. And he knew better than to ask.
“Take a walk?” Rhodey suggested, completely unaware to your weird behavior. The two of you were not that close. So he did not know you like Sam did. You were an adult, after all. If you wanted to go somewhere without asking someone first, then you were allowed to do that.
Disappointment was flooding through your body. Friends told each other stuff like that, right? So why did he keep it a secret that he planned on giving away the shield. With that action, he broke Steve’s trust & you were livid. If only Steve were here right now. You missed him. So much. Next time Sam met you, you could not promise anything. Because anger was all you felt. Anger & disappointment. Grief. But that one you could keep to yourself. At least for the time being. Shit. Bucky. One hundred percent did he watch Sam giving away the shield. Oh, he would be filled with hatred. Compared to that, you were only a small threat. Bucky was the one Wilson should keep an eye on. Well, he had been trying to get a hold of him. So far, without luck.
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A gunshot blasting woke Bucky up from another night invaded by nightmares. His changed hair did not put his demons at bay. His look was different but there were some things he could never get rid of. His past. The past he dreaded as much as you did. Probably what you two had in common. Being part of HYDRA & all. His breathing was irregular & there was no way in hell he could go back to sleep. It was in the middle of the night & he hated himself for relying on someone else. But he would go insane if he did not call another person right now. If he did not call you. The only one who seemed to understand what he was going through. The only one who never judged him because of his nightmares. The only one who made him feel like he was a good person. Not the killer he once had been. When HYDRA controlled him. Back, when he was called “The Winter Soldier”. Would he ever move on from that? Grabbing his old phone, he did not overthink too long & dialed your number. One, he knew by heart. Because he had called you so many times. It stuck in his head.
“Buck? Is everything alright?” concern was present in your voice. Usually, when you got a call in the middle of the night, it was him. And you were fine with it. If he trusted you enough to help him with his demons, than you were more than happy to come to his aid. No matter the time.
“I-I…it’s just, ugh, I-“ still shaken up from his nightmare, you did not need him to finish his sentence. You had been in this exact situation so many times. You knew what he needed. Your presence. Your voice. Your comfort. You.
“I’ll be there in a few.” assuring him, you were already grabbing the stuff you needed & walked out of your apartment. Only one destination in mind. Him. “Do you need me to stay on the phone?” it was a simple question. A stupid one, too. Usually, he would not say a word until you were with him. But it felt right to ask him what he wanted you to do. Needed you to do. When he did not answer for a few moments, you guessed he only nodded, not realizing that you could not see his motions. Yet, he did not hang up. Neither did you. Your breathing was enough for him. At least until you were in his apartment.
Knocking softly, as to not wake his neighbors, the door opened almost immediately after. Squeaking ever so slightly. Taking in his appearance, you could tell that it had been a bad nightmare. No, not a nightmare. A memory. You knew that because it was the reason you woke up most nights as well. If it were not for him feeling miserable, you would have drooled by the sight of him. No shirt. Hair sticking around so beautifully. Eyes you could lose yourself in. But it was not the right timing. Besides, Bucky & you were just friends. That was it. Just friends. Though, you would lie if you said that you did not feel butterflies whenever he shot you one of his charming smiles. Whenever his body brushed against yours on accident. Yes, he did have that effect on you. Hell, that was not what he needed right now. Your feelings could be dealt with later on. Bucky was all who mattered now. There was no conversation. No words exchanged. It was enough for him if you were with him. A sign that he was not alone. That he still had you. Even after everything. Even after calling you, night after night, disturbing your own rest. Not that you got much to begin with but he did not need to know that. It had always been a mystery to him. Why you stuck around still. Though you had assured him thousands of times that you were in this for good. If he needed you, you were only one call away. And he appreciated you for it. More than he would ever like to admit. Friends. You were friends.
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“So, Mr. Barnes, are you still having nightmares?” another session with Dr. Raynor. Another dreaded session. It was stupid to Bucky. But there was no way out of this. He had to. Seconds of silence went by before she spoke up again. “James, I asked you a question. Are you still having nightmares?” what kind of question was that? A stupid one. That was for sure.
“No.” simple, short. Sufficient. Not for his doctor, though.
“We’ve been doing this long enough that I can tell when you’re lying. Well, you seem a little off today. Did something happen recently?”
“No.” what an answer to move this session forward. Clearly, he was not in the mood to talk today. Not even you were able to get his mind off of things. Though, you definitely made his night easier.
“You’re a civilian now. With your history, the government needs to know that you’re not gonna…” her hand motioned stabbing. Awful action but who were you to judge? Bucky nodded with that look on his face that showed how completely done he was with this situation. Yet, she kept going. “It’s a condition of your pardon. So, tell me about your most recent nightmare.”
“I didn’t have a nightmare.” well, it was worth a try. After taking a deep breath, she grabbed the pencil, ready to start writing into that notebook of hers again. “Oh, come on. Really? You’re gonna do the notebook thing? Why? It’s passive aggressive.” looked like the two of them were going back to the roots.
“You don’t talk. I write.” Bucky sighed at that. He knew he would not get out of this.
“Okay. Okay. I crossed a name off the list of my amends yesterday. Don’t worry. I used all your three rules. Senator Atwood. She was a HYDRA pawn for years. Helped her get into office when I was the Winter Soldier. And after HYDRA disbanded, she continued to abuse the power I gave her.”
“So, rule number one, you can’t do anything illegal.”
“All I did was give some intel to the aide to convict her. And I wasn’t involved in anything else.”
“Rule number two?”
“What was rule number two?” his gaze drifting off, showing he thought about it deeply. How ironic.
“Nobody gets hurt. It’s a big one.”
“Then why isn’t it rule number one?” he did have a point there. No room left for arguing about that. “I didn’t hurt anybody. I promise.”
“And what about rule number three?” Bucky’s mouth opened, yet, nothing came out. “The whole point of making amends is to fulfil rule number three.”
“You know, you’re a cynic, Doc. Of course, I completed rule number three. I am James Bucky Barnes & you’re part of my efforts to make amends.” words followed by that smile of his. That smile everyone could tell was fake. Almost creepy. But efforts, right? It was all about the efforts.
“So, you did it all right, but it didn’t help with the nightmares.”
“Well, like I said, I didn’t have any.” Bucky Barnes, everyone. Still trying to fool his doctor.
“Look, one day, you’re gonna have to open up & understand that some people really do want to help you & that they can be trusted. People like (Y/N).” the mention of your name made his eyes snap up.
“I trust more people than her.” it sounded more like he tried to convince himself more than anyone else.
“Yeah? Give me your phone.” an order. Grabbing it out of his pocket to hand it over. A short look was enough. “You don’t have ten phone numbers on this thing. Oh, & you’ve been ignoring the texts from Sam. Look, you gotta nurture friendships. I am the only person you have called all week. That is so sad…Oh, that’s not right. You called (Y/N) last night. Anything you wanna tell me about that?” closing the flip phone, she threw it over to Bucky which he caught with ease.
“What? Do I need to justify calling a friend?” chuckling & shaking his head slightly, he brushed his hands over his thighs.
“If you call that friend at 3 am, then yes. Because you should sleep at that time. Except if you had a nightmare which you claimed that you didn’t.”
“We just talked. That’s all.” he thought that brushing it off as if it were nothing was enough to get her to shut up. Hell, he had brought you up during his sessions way too many times. After all, he still wanted the situation between you guys to be subtle.
“You’re alone.”
“A minute ago, you said I had (Y/N).” he tried arguing but his attempts failed.
“You’re a hundred years old. You have no history, no family…” right, pouring salt in the wounds. That usually worked.
“Are you lashing out at me, Doc? Because that’s really unprofessional, you know? When did that start? Yelling at your clients?” she seemed to have enough & again went for the little book next to her. “Oh, the notebook. That’s great.” sighing deeply, he braced himself to take her more seriously. “All right, give me a break. I’m trying, okay? This isn’t…This is new for me. I didn’t have a moment to deal with anything, you know? I had a little…calm in Wakanda. And other than that, I just went from one fight to another for 90 years.”
“So, now that you’ve stopped fighting, what do you want?” he had an answer in mind right away. Never ever would he say it out loud. It took him a second to reply. Because what he was about to say came in union with his first thought.
“Peace.”
“That is utter bullshit.” what a nice way to bad talk his answer. Maybe she was expecting something else from him. Maybe she knew the answer just as much as he did. The real answer.
“You’re a terrible shrink.”
“I was an excellent soldier, so I saw a lot of dead bodies, & I know how that can shut you down. And if you are alone…”
“Which I’m not because I have (Y/N).”
“…that is the quietest, most personal hell. And, James, it is very hard to escape. Look, I know that you have been through a lot, but you’ve got your mind back, you are being pardoned. I mean, these are good things. You’re free.”
“To do what?”
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Wednesday. Bucky usually went to Izzy. Today, he asked you to join him & Yori. Why he wanted you there with them? No clue. But it was not often he asked you to go somewhere with him so you agreed on meeting them there.
“Take a look.” Yori was a cute, old man. Reading his newspaper like a good citizen. Bucky had yet to give you an explanation as to why you were here right now. But for now, you just sat next to him, quietly observing your surroundings. “Nobody made it past 90 this week.” it was funny, to see Bucky trying his hardest to sound interested. Like he understood.
“So young. Such a shame.” his words made you scoff. Apparently, once you hit the 100 mark, you turn into a sarcastic piece. If you were not one before. If you ever made it to 100? Only the Gods knew what would come after that. Most people called you a sarcastic asshole now. Could that be topped?
“You guys didn’t order the usual, huh? Feeling a little adventurous?” the woman behind the counter directed her words at the three of you.
“Um, actually, I’ve never been here before, so…” you chuckled to avoid the awkwardness that would sure as hell build if you kept quiet now.
“You should ask her out.” Yori leaned over to Bucky & you almost choked on your food at his words. Bucky asking her out? Her? Yeah, she was beautiful & all. But her? Really? Seemed like that Yori dude did not know Bucky as well as he claimed to. You, on the other hand, were aware that nothing good would come out if it. Besides, they would not even make a nice couple. Shit, were you jealous? Oh no. Glancing over at the man next to you, his face showed just how much he despised this idea. At least something.
“Mm-mmm…” shaking his head frantically, he shot you a quick look but before his eyes locked onto yours, your gaze fell down to your plate. Slightly embarrassed. Scared that, if he looked at you, he would notice something behind your look. Something more. Something, that you wanted to keep hidden. For everyone’s sake.
“He would like to take you out on a date.” oh fuck off, Yori. You had nothing against this man but he was pushing your buttons. Could he not see that Bucky was incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of going on a date? With her? “Maybe to bingo or a night of pinochle.” hiding your laugh behind one of your hands, you could not believe that he was serious. Bucky & bingo? Well, it was for old people so you guessed it fit quite well. Not with her, though. Oh no, you really were jealous.
“I’m really sorry about him.” Bucky apologized for his friend’s behavior. Yes, you were sorry for him, too.
“Why are you sorry?” of course, now the woman was flirting with him. It got better & better. Taking a deep breath, you tried to keep your emotions at bay. You could not lash out in the middle of this restaurant, after all. Even though you were this close to doing just that. Deep breaths, you got this. “I’m game.” sure she was.
“Wow.” really? Bucky was impressed? By this? Oh come on, why would he settle for less when he could have so, so much more. But it was not your decision. He was not yours. You did not own him. Neither did you make the decisions for him.
“Tomorrow night, then?” Yori leaned over the counter.
“Tomorrow night’s great.” she replied with a bright smile.
“Hey, I just remembered something.” you spoke up all of a sudden. Bucky’s eyes met yours now & he saw that you were uncomfortable. Though, he could not pinpoint why. “Um, I-I need to go. See you, Buck. Bye guys.” sprinting out of the restaurant, you hoped nobody would follow you. Not in the mood to deal with anyone right now. All you wanted was to be alone right now. Your mind the only one keeping you company. But your mind was not really the kindest to you. Not in this particular moment. So what? Bucky had a date. You knew that would happen sooner or later. He was a good looking man. More importantly, you just wanted him to be happy. Genuinely happy.
Fucking great. Who could you talk to? You still were not done being mad at Sam. And now you were mad at Bucky for something he did not even do. He sort of did. He could have said no. If he really did not want to, he could have said no. Bucky was enough of a man to speak his mind, you knew that. Maybe he did want to go on a date with her. What was her name again? Not that you cared too much. But still. Blinking away the tears that had formed at the corners of your eyes, you kept on walking. Without a real destination. You were stupid. Friends. Why could you not accept this? Usually, you would call Steve in such a situation. Or even Tony. But it was too late now. They were not here anymore. You had to deal with that sooner or later. Whether you liked it or not. Contemplating calling Sam, you eyed your phone carefully. One more button. But nope. The anger was bigger than the need to talk to someone. Stubborn you. Wilson could make you feel better. But you would most likely end up yelling at him. And you knew you would regret your words later on. So might as well stay silent for the time being. Until you calmed down enough.
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It was 10 pm. Date time for Bucky. That same restaurant. Being the gentleman that we was, he even brought her flowers. Like it used to be back in the 40s.
“Well, if that’s not the most adorably old-fashioned thing anyone’s ever done.” Bucky felt lost. In her company. “Grab a seat, I’ll be done in a few.”
“Okay.” he could up & leave. It would not be too late. All he knew was that it felt wrong.
“So, have you dated much since half the fish in the sea came back?”
“Not really. I, um…tried the whole online dating thing. (Y/N), the girl who was here with me yesterday, she set up a profile for me because I didn’t understand a single thing.” laughing at the memory, he thought back to when he called you to ask you for a favor. How you laughed at him for wanting to try this whole bullshit. “It’s pretty crazy. A lot of weird pictures.”
“What kind of weird?”
“I mean, tiger photos? Half the time I don’t even know what I’m looking at. It’s…It’s a lot. When I showed (Y/N), she simply said that this was what I signed up for.”
“You sound like my dad.” definitely something a man did not want to hear while on a date. On the other hand, he did not even want this to be a date. “Wait. How old are you?
“A hundred & six.” only he could make it sound so casually. Like it was the most normal thing on this planet. Both laughed at his words. Simply because it was so absurd.
“What’s up with your big gloves?” a sensitive topic she just touched.
“I, um, have, uh…poor circulation.” sure thing.
“Hmm…Hey, what is it about this (Y/N) girl & you?” his eyes widened at her question. What was she getting at?
“She’s my friend. Why?” his dumbfounded expression made her chuckle.
“A friend, huh?”
“Um, yeah.”
“You sure about that?” an eyebrow raised. A questioning stare was sent his way.
“Why does everyone think I don’t have friends?” throwing his head back in frustration, he let out a long sigh.
“It’s not that.” she stopped briefly, thinking about her next words carefully. “Just, you guys seem pretty close.”
“Well, we’ve known each other for years.” he reasoned, gesturing with his hands to bring his point across.
“Yeah? And the looks you’re shooting each other when the other one’s not looking?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You two aren’t really subtle about this, you know?” she wiped the counter & did not even look at Bucky. He, on the other hand, started sweating.
“Subtle about what?”
“Oh, come on. Who are you kidding? I don’t even know why you’re here right now.”
“Because Yori set you & me up on a date.”
“And why did you agree?” she crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for an explanation from the man in front of her.
“I-I don’t know.” he responded truthfully. Because he thought it to be polite? Because Yori was the one who suggested it? Honestly, he was not sure.
“That’s what I thought. Look, you’re a nice guy & all but…just, listen to your heart from time to time. It’s late. You should head out. See you.” she turned around & walked further into the restaurant. Leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts. It was clear what she intended. Did not mean that it made this entire situation any easier. Bucky left without another word. Fresh air would help him think straight.
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Your phone rang & you sighed when you checked who decided to annoy you. Bucky. Of course. But wait. Should he not be on his date right now? Did something go wrong? Not that you wanted it to but if you were entirely honest, you would not be mad about it either.
“Hi Buck. What’s up?”
“I need your help with something.” there was no hesitation in his voice. Just him being straight forward.
“Please don’t tell me you need help on how to get the girl.” it was your way to lighten the mood. You did that because you could tell that he was incredibly serious. Usually, this was never a good sign.
“Can I send you an address? Can you meet me there as soon as possible?” his voice was low, deep.
“Um, sure thing. But just to set things clear…I won’t join in on your fun, Buck. That’s between you & her.” again, sarcasm was your way of coping with emotions. Though, it was not the right time to use it right now. His next words were proof enough. You should not mess with him. Not in this moment.
“Can you be serious for a second?” he raised his voice a little. It was not much but it was enough to leave you confused. Bucky was not the person to yell at you. Especially not like this.
“I’m sorry…Um, yeah, tell me where & I’ll get there as fast as I can.” gulping down, you waited for him to give you more information.
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Arriving at an unfamiliar building, you could make out Bucky’s form in front of it. Why would he want to meet you here? Where was his date?
“Buck?” your voice barely above a whisper. The night sky only illuminated by the moon that shone brightly. Providing just a tiny bit of light. Enough, to let you notice your surroundings.
“Thanks for coming.” you could tell that he was stressed, tough, you were not sure why.
“Is everything alright? Because I swear, if that woman did anyth-“
“No, she didn’t. Promise.” his warm smile was encouraging enough. It was clear that he was not lying to you. “Just…didn’t work out. But that’s not why you’re here.”
“Okay?”
“My last nightmare. Do you remember?” nodding for him to continue. “How I killed that innocent man?”
“It wasn’t you, Buck. You were being controlled.” touching his shoulder softly, squeezing it to reassure him.
“Whatever…That guy, it was Yori’s son. I want to, need to, apologize. Even though the apology comes way too late.” you nodded at him, your eyes meeting his briefly. Now you knew why he called you. He did not want to do this alone. No. He wanted you by his side. To support him through it. Entering the building together, Bucky led you to the apartment Yori lived in. His hand raised to knock on the door. Surprisingly, he did not waste any time. He wanted to get this over with. Understandingly so. No words were exchanged. You being here, with him, that was more than enough.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” Yori opened the door, his face showed confusion by the appearance of you two. “How was the date?” you could not help but roll your eyes at the old man in front of you. Looking at Bucky, you were worried when you saw him having an internal conversation with himself. Mouth opening & closing again. No words coming out. Risking a look inside the apartment, you noticed a small picture frame with who you assumed to be his son. The one Bucky killed. No. The one the Winter Soldier killed.
“It was…It was good.” Bucky mumbled.
“Bullshit.” you followed after. None of them heard you, though. Luckily.
“Forgot I owed you for lunch.” Bucky handed him money. If you were not mistaken, this was not a form of apologizing. He had a hard time, though, that much was obvious. Afterwards, Bucky turned around & walked away without another word. Which left you alone with a confused looking Yori.
“I’m sorry for the disturbance, sir. Have a good night.” plastering on the sweetest smile you could offer, you followed Bucky outside. Jogging to keep up with the super soldier.
Back outside, you saw Bucky holding his little notebook in his hands. You knew about it. Because you were the only person he talked to when it came to his therapy sessions. A look over his shoulder could tell that his eyes were trained on the name being circled. His body was tense. That was not what he planned.
“It’s okay, Bucky.” your hand stroked over his lower back in a comforting way. Your forehead rested against his shoulder, hoping, that it would ease him a little. You could feel him calm down at your touch. “Give yourself some time.” you mumbled quietly, knowing he could hear you clearly due to the calm night. You just hoped that he would not beat himself up too much. Not more than he already did.
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You were back in your own apartment. Still no words from Sam. But that was nothing new. Sometimes, he would go radio silent for a few days but after that, he would always check in with you. Maybe he figured that you were mad at him. For giving away the shield & all. And he probably was busy with work. The work he did with Torres. If he needed your help, he would call you for sure. Your TV got your attention again. Something told you to watch closely. So you did.
“Unrest, in the wake of recent events, has left us vulnerable. Every day Americans feel it. While we love heroes who put their lives on the line to defend Earth, we also need a hero to defend this country. We need a real person who embodies America’s greatest values. We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense & our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.” the crowd cheered loudly & someone walked through the door. You could not believe what was happening. Please, this had to be a bad dream. When would you wake up form this hell? A man, wearing his suit, holding his shield, greeted the people. Looking at your hands, you could see small, blue sparks forming at the tips of your fingers. That only ever happened when you had no control over your emotions. Right now, you were everything but in control. Of course he had to wink at the camera like the sick person he was.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” breathing out lowly, you put your head into your hands, completely ignoring the sparks there. You did not feel them anyway. If you ever met this son of a bitch it would not end well for him. And the next time you would meet Wilson? Fingers crossed he could deal with your angry & disappointed self. Because you were seething.
~to be continued~
Next Chapter
Published (04/02/2021) by Cathy
Tags: @taina-eny​, @tanyaherondale​, @cool-ultra-nerd​, @toribentleyva, @buckyandlokirunmylife​, @annadier​, @howlongtillidie​, @mizz-kraziii, @theetherealbloom​, @millenniumloki​, @marvelbros-oneshots​, @ajbwasnthere, @bilesxbilinskixlahey​, @mystictimetravelcolor​, @dbrees256​, @sxpxrnxturxl, @dreamydreamerwriting​, @dolllstyles​, @angelicastiel​, @prettysbliss, @infinitelyforgotten​, @sweetserendipity65​, @lilystilinskicullen​, @partypoisonsblog, @btdsprayberry, @sarai-ibn-la-ahad​, @deamus-liv​, @simplybarnes​, @sethcohenluvr (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)
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soracities · 3 years
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is it a bad thing to reach ou to someone when you are having a panic attack and suicidal? every time that i reach out to my best friend he tells me that he’s too busy, he has a lot of things to do, and that he doesn’t have time to waste talking to me. he blocked me on different places because he said that i don’t know how to behave, that i don’t have any limits and that i should learn how to live in society simply for asking him to help me in the midst of a crisis. am i a selfish person? am i a terrible person for asking for help? i don’t want to bother anyone, but i feel so desperate and alone. he’ll disappear for days, weeks, and even months without a single word and i always feel like i’m a burden, a terrible person, and that everyone would be better without me. i’m sorry for bothering you, but i need to know that i’m not insane and that it’s not normal to treat your supposedly best friend this way.
You’re not insane, and it’s not normal, and I’m so sorry that you’re feeling so alone through it all. There are some things that the people in our lives are not adequately equipped to help us with, and that is nobody’s fault, but you deserve a much more compassionate response than what your friend gave you. We can’t be our friends’ therapists, but we are also obliged, if we truly love and care for someone, to let them know when we cannot give them the support they need: “I love you dearly / You mean a lot to me / I wish I could help you, but what you need right now requires more than either of us can give, and I want you to get the help you deserve in a way that will benefit and help you more than I can -- for this reason, I think you need to see / talk to a therapist / counsellor etc.,”
You are not selfish, and you are not terrible -- you’re trying your best to navigate what I can only imagine must be an overwhelming and frightening situation by turning to the people closest to you; it’s instinctual and we all do it because it’s the only thing we know how to. We are all human and we all have our limits in what we are able or willing to give at a particular time, even to those we love, but I think we owe it to those we are close with to at least articulate that in a sensitive and caring way and I’m so sorry you did not get that.
There’s nothing wrong with letting people know you’re struggling or asking for help, but these are very big things you are dealing with and while it is absolutely not your fault, they require the attention of someone qualified enough to help you in the best way possible; I don’t know what your history is or what exactly is going on in your life, but I would urge you as much as you can to try and seek help through a professional so you can begin to work out what’s going on beneath the surface in a healthier and safer setting. What has happened with your friend is only going to add more stress to you, and you do not need that right now. I don’t know how much this will offer, but please know you deserve help and support and I hope you can get it in a far more constructive and beneficial way than you have so far x
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furiousgoldfish · 3 years
Text
All lies of abusive parents are self serving. Don’t believe me? Watch this:
“You’re stupid, worthless, waste of space!” There’s no reason to say any of this to a child, if the child was actually struggling with learning or finishing tasks it would be something to soothe them over, and work on it together, not a reason to attack. So why do they do it? To convince themselves they’re actually smarter and more important than the child, which they are not. They repeat it just to convince themselves the child isn’t beating them in every avenue of hunanity. Which the child usually does effortlessly since the parents are trash.
“Nobody will ever want you, nobody will hire you, you can’t do anything, you’re lazy, incompentent slob! ” Now if any of that was true, it would firstly reflect bad on the parents. If they ‘raised’ a kid so badly the kid can’t do anything and is even unexploitable by capitalism, they should feel ashamed of themselves. Yet thats not what they’re saying, and they’re usually not saying it to a kid who can’t do anything, it would be extremely cruel to say this to a disabled kid and very obviously evil (not unheard of, tho) no, they say this to the children who already work hard and try their best, and they make a point of repeating this and going overboard to find all or any mistakes. Why? To prevent escape. If their smart, capable and hardworking child realizes the truth, they will plan and achieve to escape and live by their own means. Brainwashing to keep a child trapped at home is extremely self serving, if not explicitly evil.
“You are so disgusting, you should feel ashamed of yourself! Don’t you feel any pity for your poor parent?! You’re heartless and cruel and want me to suffer! ” Other than being a huge projection, lets just look at what picture this framing paints. Apparently what we have here is a parent (?) who Is suffering (?) because their CHILD isn’t taking pity on them. This tells the child that the parent is depending on them, parent’s happiness is depending on them, they have to think about what the parent wants and needs or they’re HURTING the parent. Except, this is parentification, and the reality is reversed. Of course the parent isn’t depending on the child to look after them and make them happy. Does the child own a house? A job? Resources? Food? Emotional maturity to comfort their grown up ass? Did the child concieve them? No. The parent has, or is supposed to have all that, and responsibility to look after the kid. So why are they acting like the kid is the actual parent here and actively causing SUFFERING by not caretaking enough? Because they’re spoiled narcissistic adults who think actual children should neglect themselves, on top of being neglected by parents, and cater to their needs instead. It does not get more gross and seld serving than that. Maybe find a fucking therapist or person your age to ‘take pity’. Heaven knows you never took pity on your own child.
“Nobody will ever love you like I do!” If this was true, they would never say it, for obvious reasons of ‘scaring the child that they would never experience actual love from another person’, do you think anyone who loves the child would ever want them to live in that fear? No, this is a self serving lie and it means ‘if you ever leave I want you to be scared that you will never be loved again’ and if that gives you cold chills, it should. Downright psychopatic shit. Cruel emotional manipulation for the sake of sabotaging possible escape. And if they say it, they already know you will want to escape, they know they’re treating you bad enough for you to want to get the hell away. Healthy way would be simply treating you with respect, care and love so you wouldn’t have to escape, but apparently thats just too much to ask.
“You have to listen to me/obey what I say. I’m your parent and it is the law/bible/you’re freeloader and have to deserve to eat here.” If that was true we wouldn’t even bother having children being raised by parents, we’d simply chuck them to the nearest factory, prison or what have you, and have them work until they deserve to eat or die. This however, is ILLEGAL and also a reason for humanity not to even exist. By whose authority do we not have children fed, clothed and housed, regardless of wether they’re providing labor? They’re not workers, they’re not even fully developed, and you want them to work or DIE? There is no animal, no creature on this planet who does this to their children. Every parent in animal kingdom cares for their child, teaches them how to get along in the world and NEVER expects the child to pay back, or work for them, or sustain them, because its STUPID and UNNATURAL and completely out of this world. If you consider children freeloaders or source of free labour or think at any point they’re unworthy of food, roof, clothes, society, support, happiness, just get a fucking robot and call it a day. You don’t need or deserve a kid. Legally kids don’t owe their parents free labour. Not even chores. All responsibility of caretaking and giving falls to the parent, and they’ve CHOSEN THIS. The child chose nothing. They don’t need to pay for their own food because this is your fault, not theirs. It’s on you to keep them healthy, happy, teach them how to survive and thrive and support them to be happy in this world. They do not owe you a thing.
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laequiem · 3 years
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Small Claims
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/ Lorcan finally tells Elide that he thinks she’s his mate. Claiming follows. Fluff & Smut.
Fandom: Throne of Glass
Characters: LORD LORCAN LOCHAN / Elide Lochan
Rating: Explicit bay-beeeeeee
TW: a lil bit of blood
Lorcan Salvaterre didn't think he had any "firsts" left. Most of them had come to pass centuries ago. First fistfight when he could still count his age on his fingers. First real battle a few years later. First kill in his late teens. Those he remembered clearly. First kiss, first time getting drunk, first fuck—blurry meaningless memories he did not care to untangle.
Listen, my power went out when I sat down to finish this last week, so I decided that it’s cursed and that it needs to get out of my WIPs. So if it’s bad, please send your complaints to Hydro. Thanks.  
read on ao3 • masterlist
Lorcan Salvaterre didn't think he had any "firsts" left. Most of them had come to pass centuries ago. First fistfight when he could still count his age on his fingers. First real battle a few years later. First kill in his late teens. Those he remembered clearly. First kiss, first time getting drunk, first fuck—blurry meaningless memories he did not care to untangle.
In the last few months, he was surprised to experience new "firsts" with this force of nature he now shared his life with. Elide was the first person he cared about, the first person he loved. His first time having sex and feeling something more than pure lust.
And now, Elide Lochan was the first partner he ever had the urge to claim. Lorcan had bitten plenty of females before, but never broke skin. It was a part of his fae heritage that had never surfaced until he started traveling with her. He felt it first when they traveled with the circus and men kept hovering around her tent, trying to gage if they could bed the innocent fortune teller. He pushed the urge down, down into himself, refusing to acknowledge any feeling for her. He kept the urge at bay for long, even making fun of Whitethorn when he noticed the mark he had left on his Queen. But when Elide gave him everything, the need to claim her had flooded Lorcan's senses. It was not the time, though. Not when she was so insecure.
Since then, Elide has grown confident with her sexuality, initiating things even more often than he does. Still, Lorcan has not claimed her. He could not figure out how to ask her. 
His primal instincts are always stronger on mornings like this. When he wakes up and she sleeps peacefully next to him, hair swept away, exposing her throat to him.
"Lorcan?" she asks softly, tentatively, pulling him out of his thoughts.
Elide's voice is not as sleepy as he thought it would be. It sounds as if she has been awake for a while. She shifts to face him, hands coming up to rest on his chest.
"Can humans have a mate?"
Lorcan trails one of his hands up Elide's arm and inclines his head, a silent cue for her to continue.
"I dreamt of Aelin and her mate and I… I was wondering why you didn't have one." Her tone is so sad, Lorcan feels his heart twist. "If it is because you're demi-fae."
He lifts a hand to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking over her cheekbone.
"Not everyone has a mate, Elide. They're rare," she lets a little oh and he continues, "I used to think I couldn't have one. Not because of my human blood, but because of… Who I am. What I did."
"Used to?"
For so long, Lorcan had convinced himself that he didn't even have a heart left. That his power, like it does to his enemies, had rotted his insides to the point of rendering him heartless. Living only to inflict pain and slaughter. Then, he met Elide and his rotten heart had made itself known. Twisting and pulling, accelerating and stopping, until he had to admit to himself that he cared for her. At first, it was an inconvenience, a distraction from his mission and the Queen he thought he loved. When he betrayed Elide and sold Aelin to said-Queen, Lorcan could hardly live with himself knowing she hated him, that he had ruined what they had. Whatever that was.
And now?
"I don't… think that anymore."
"So why then?"
"Why what?"
"Why don't you have a mate?"
Lorcan removes his hands from her and rolls over on his back. He stares at the ceiling, trying to figure out what to say, how to say it. Words have never been his forte. Elide is so good with words, but it seems the talent is not contagious. She inches closer to rest against his side, head on his shoulder. Can she hear his heart thundering in his chest? Can she read the fear on his face? 
He inhales deeply, then exhales slowly.
"I think you're my mate."
There it is, the secret he has been holding for months now. He feels her still against his side and all his repressed worries to come flooding in. 
She doesn't want to be your mate. 
Who would even want that? 
You don't deserve her. 
You don't deserve anything. 
You've killed so much. 
You've brought on so much suffering. 
It would be unfair for you to have a mate. 
All she does, however, is ask, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't… I don't know how any of this is supposed to feel.” He rubs at his face with one broad hand. “I've never loved before, I don't know the difference."
Elide's fingers start tracing the outline of his pecs, toying with the dark hair there. 
"Neither do I. We're learning together."
Lorcan lets out a breath of relief. She isn't mad at him. She doesn't laugh at him. 
"It doesn't have to… change anything," he says tentatively, "I don't want to force this on you."
Elide shifts and leans on her elbow, staring at him with those devastating dark eyes.
"Lorcan, you never forced me into anything. I'm… honored."
He scoffs. As if. He already struggles everyday to remind himself that she does, in fact, love him. Thinking she would see being his mate as an honor was far beyond what he could imagine. She flicks his nose. He is not worthy of her and they both know it, the whole court—
"I'm serious," Elide chastises, "I wouldn't want anybody else."
Elide leans towards her husband and presses her lips to his. 
"Who wouldn't want Lorcan Salvaterre, second in command to Queen Maeve as a mate?" she teases, her hand trailing lower on his chest, "A strong fae male to scare my enemies."
"You're the only female fearless enough to want me," he replies, as serious as ever.
Lorcan shivers as her fingers slipped past the waistband of his underwear.
"Why would I be afraid," she croons, palming his semi-hard cock firmly, "when I have you wrapped around my finger?"
Lorcan snaps and rolls to be on top of her. This kind of talk always got to him. Of course, his wife's body is beautiful and perfect, but it's that cunning mind and sharp tongue that really made him lose his mind.
He nips at Elide’s lower lip and her lips part for him, allowing him a taste. She always tastes so sweet—strawberries and cinnamon, more addictive than any sugary treat. 
Lorcan groans as he witnesses her wide eyes, darkened by lust and need. He lowers his mouth to her neck, kissing and sucking the soft flesh. Her pulse rushes under her skin and his canines are aching to pierce and claim and—
He moves down to her chest before the feral thing inside him can fully surface. He focuses this energy on her breasts, knowing she likes him leaving marks for nobody but them to see. He palms one of her heavy breasts with one hand while the other seeks out her sex. Before he reaches his destination, however, she grabs his wrist and pulls him up to look at her.
"You're holding back," she simply says, "why?"
He must look absolutely savage right now—wild eyes, panting heavily, shaking slightly with restraint—for her to even bring it up.
"I want to claim you," he replies roughly.
Elide lets go of his wrist and for a second, Lorcan fears he drove her away. She understood that he doesn't deserve her and she doesn't want a life shackled to him and—
Her hand moves up to his nape and she lightly tugs on his hair.
"I want everything you can give me." 
Her other hand reaches between them and grasps him again, angling his length to line up with her.
Lorcan's breath hitches, "are you—"
"Yes. I want everyone to know you're mine."
Everyone knows, of course. He does not preside over meetings with her, but everybody notices the armored warrior standing in the doorway, a constant threat of violence etched on his face. The Lady's brute, he had heard some whisper. They're right. Her uncle had called him a brute as well. No amount of gentle kisses and magical braces would erase the centuries of pain he has caused.
Sensing her lover's hesitation, Elide bends forward to whisper in his pointed ear, "claim me."
Lorcan unleashes himself with a feral groan, any semblance of control he once had shattering to give way to the beastial fae half of him. He drives his cock into her heat in a powerful stroke, eliciting a surprised gasp and a giggle from Elide. 
With all his previous partners, Lorcan kept the kissing to the absolute minimum. But Elide's moans were a siren song to his ears, and he wanted nothing more than to drink them all up until he drowned. He claims her lips in a hungry kiss, so raw and unchained that their teeth clinked together.
Even with his lips on hers, his cock in her and a hand grasping her breast, he still needs more, more to touch, more to taste. By the way her hands roam his chest and claw at his back, his wife feels the same.
While he ruts into her, Lorcan reaches between them to toy with her clit, wanting—needing to feel her shatter on his cock.
She's mine, she's mine, she's mine. The words echo in his head with each slap of his hips against hers.
I have a mate.
Clap.
A mate.
Clap.
A mate.
As if she could read his mind, Elide echoes his thoughts in-between two short breaths, "my mate."
A shock passes through their bodies, heightening every sensation. The bond snapping into place, he supposes. It's overwhelming, better than any story Lorcan has ever heard. He feels her emotions, her love for him, as strongly as if they were his. He knows now more than ever that he wants to spend his whole life with Elide Lochan. That, no matter how short their time together would be, he could never live without her.
Lorcan hooks one of Elide's legs around his elbow while his other hand quickens its ministrations on her clitoris. The next thrust is deeper, angled just right, and Elide comes with a scream that will surely wake up the maids. He coaxes her through the waves of her orgasm, his eyes never leaving her flushed face. Beautiful.
As he feels his own release approaching, Lorcan leans towards her and drags his teeth down Elide's neck, inhaling her scent deeply. Just before erupting, he bites down, canines piercing the soft skin effortlessly. 
My mate, my mate.
Lorcan spills in her. Once. Twice. By the end of his climax, he is shaking all over. He finally pulls away from her neck, licking his lips, then running his tongue over the mark. He stares at it for a moment, admiring as droplets of blood start beading out again. Will she want to keep the scar, like Aelin did? The memory of it will live in his mind forever either way, just like their scent will always be intertwined now. The possessiveness is not a part of himself he is used to, and he feels quite ashamed of the primal nature of it all, but faeries are territorial creatures. 
Elide trails a finger up his throat and he leans into her touch.
"Am I supposed to… do it too?"
"Only if you want to," he says, brushing a strand away from her sweaty forehead.
She hums softly, considering. "Your throat does look bare without a scar."
"Do I not have enough scar for you, Milady?"
She laughs and Lorcan wonders if he will ever get used to the sound and how it makes his heart skip a beat. 
"I like your scars."
Elide pushes on his chest and Lorcan pulls himself out and twists to lay on his side next to her. She turns to face him and starts tracing a scar that spans the length of his biceps.
"Do you want one?"
"More than anything."
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ladykissingfish · 3 years
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Under the Mistletoe with the Akatsuki // Part Ten // Zetsu
“So how are they doing?” Zetsu took a moment, to gather his thoughts before answering. Madara would call on him every so often to give updates on the members of the Akatsuki, their successes and failures, their personalities. He asked Obito the same questions, but in truth he trusted Zetsu’s observations a bit more. “The boy has a tendency to let emotion and attachment cloud his overall judgment,” Madara would tell him, over and over again. “I rely on you to give me the facts, and nothing else.” Madara is right in that Zetsu doesn’t have the same connection with the group that Obito seems to have; however, he’s had more fun and more amusement being around this eclectic gathering of souls than he has around anybody else in his long, long life. After his “visit” with Madara, he travels back through the ground to the Akatsuki hideout; just in time for his turn in the Mistletoe game.
Pein
Pein sighs as he approaches the plant-man. He had been hoping that he could avoid this altogether, but apparently his luck had run out. Nagato won’t admit this, because to admit weakness is a failure, but ... Zetsu creeps him out to catastrophic levels. Nagato has dealt with sub-human species before during his travels, but what even was Zetsu? A plant? A man-plant? A mythical creature, a result of an experiment gone wrong? Indeed, Zetsu looks like the type of creation that would step out of one of the traitor Orochimaru’s labs. “Good evening, Leader.” The Pein-body nods and steps closer, steeling himself did this. Zetsu smilles, and Nagato (through Pein) can see splotches of blood dotting the man(?)’s teeth. He must have just eaten, which is good ... not that he would have found the artificial Pein body to taste in anyway pleasant. He gives Zetsu a quick kiss on the forehead, struggling to keep the grimace off his face as he notices how cold, and clammy, and ... inhuman the skin. As he walks away, he could almost swear he can hear Zetsu chuckling to himself ... not that he’s willing to turn around and check for sure.
Konan
Konan’s heart drops when she sees how excited Zetsu looks to see her. He’s smiling and waving to her. “Konan-san! Konan-san!” Still, she can’t help but smile; the voice unmistakably belongs to White Zetsu, the decidedly more friendly (if you could call it that) of the dual-personality plant. When it had been Konan’s turn under the little green plant, Zetsu had refused to kiss her because White Zetsu had proclaimed he “wasn’t ready” and Black Zetsu had berated him for it. Things had changed, apparently, as evidenced by Zetsu reaching out and taking hold of her hands. “Be gentle with me; I’ve never kissed a woman before.” Konan nods, and then she reaches up with her small hands, cups Zetsu’s face, pulls him down to her level and kisses first his forehead, then both cheeks, then his nose, then his lips, softly. Zetsu is stunned: he never imagined his first on-the-lips kiss would be so ... pleasant. “T-thank you, Konan-san.” She nods and smiles, before walking away back to her room. As he watches her leave, he starts to talk to himself. “She smelled good.” “All humans do. It’s their blood.” “It wasn’t her blood; it was just her. Her skin. Her hair. She was —“ “The last thing we’re going to do is act like a fool over some human woman.” White Zetsu blushes; he doesn’t think he’s acting like “a fool” at all. Kissing Konan was just an interesting experience, that’s all. Another checkpoint on a long, looong list of interesting experiences.
Kakuzu
“This is it, right? This is the last one? Thank God; now we can all go back to doing more productive things with our time.” Zetsu blinks when Kakuzu says that; out of all the members of this group, THIS man was the most no-nonsense, serious guy Zetsu had ever met. He always had his eye on the bottom line, and was more focused on money than Zetsu would have believed possible. About a year back he had approached Zetsu with his idea to start a vegetable garden in order to cut back on market cost of food, to which Zetsu agreed. Taking care of plants was second nature to him; what he DIDN’T expect was that, quite often, Kakuzu would join him in the garden. The old guy had a surprisingly green thumb, and being in the garden seems to give him some much-needed peace. It was during one of these quiet times, as Kakuzu was tending to some tomatoes, that he confessed, quietly, that working in the dirt reminded him of his mother. “We had no money. My mother used to labor on neighboring farms for food or vegetable seeds. She created a beautiful garden, better produce than any of the farms around us. So we never went without.” Kakuzu approaches him now, his mask already lowered, and he delivers a light kiss to Zetsu’s forehead. As he’s about to leave, Zetsu informs him that he’s gotten hold of some rare flower seeds, and asks if he wants to plant them later. “You can’t eat flowers; if you’re not growing something for food then what purpose does it have?” “It provides beauty. Doesn’t that count for something?” Kakuzu rolls his eyes but there’s a smile on his face, which he quickly covers by pulling up his mask. “I’d be glad to help,” he says, gruffly, before leaving.
Sasori
Another no-nonsense, extremely straightforward Akatsuki member. One thing about Sasori that Zetsu will never understand is Hiroku. Why does the redhead choose to hide himself in that hideous carapace when his OWN puppet body was undoubtedly stronger, faster, and had a higher-level weapons capacity? For that matter, why would a perfectly healthy young man choose to rip out his own humanity and turn himself into such a creation in the first place? Mysteries bounded concerning Sasori of the Red Sand, and even someone as world-weary as Zetsu was in no hurry to uncover them. “Good evening, Sasori-san.” Sasori grunts in return; for once, he’s in his own body. Sasori doesn’t seem at all eager to take the initiative, so Zetsu leans down and kisses him on the forehead instead. He licks his lips at the pleasant woody taste that floods into his mouth; being near Sasori reminds him of peaceful days spend photosynthesizing in the forest, taking in the air of nature while the sun beat down on his face. Sasori leaves while Zetsu is lost in this lovely thought.
Itachi
Zetsu would often look at Itachi and think, this child is in trouble. His scent was wrong, his chakra was wrong, and his mental state ... couldn’t have been all that good. Zetsu is the Akatsuki’s spy but he knows for certain that Itachi is one too, that he never cut his ties to that village of his and centered his (and everyone else’s movements) away from his home as much as possible. Zetsu could expose him to everyone, but ... what would be the point? After all, even Madara is only an unwitting puppet in the grand scheme of things to come, and Itachi ... the group was made just that much more powerful with him in it. Zetsu often wishes that Itachi, not Madara and not Obito, was the Uchiha “in charge”; but that wouldn’t work. Itachi’s raw intelligence was a force to be reckoned with, and he wouldn’t take lightly (or at all, really) to being “used” by anyone. Although, in Zetsu’s opinion, nobody on earth could possibly use the sweet boy worse than his own village had. “Good evening, Zetsu.” So polite. So pleasant, even to those who didn’t deserve it. This child, it would be a tragedy when he passed. Zetsu quickly leans down and kisses his cheek, noting how cold the young Uchiha was. “You should warm up with a blanket, Itachi. You’re freezing.” Itachi nods, and then he bids Zetsu a good evening as he walks slowly back to his room.
Deidara
“Oi, Zetsu! Look at what I made!”, Deidara exclaims as he approaches him, holding up a small clay bird. “Isn’t it sublime?!” Zetsu simply nods; in truth, ALL of Deidara’s creations, no matter what they are, look boringly similar to Zetsu. And he didn’t understand the young blonde’s way of taking such careful, meticulous care in sculpting these things ... only to have them explode a few seconds later. And the art pieces weren’t the only closure things about Deidara, as Zetsu had observed many times that the kid just wasn’t the best at controlling his temper. Zetsu would often question Obito as to why he continued to let himself be partnered with him, as Tobi’s idiotic tendencies would surely get Obito killed one day. All Obito would do is shrug and say that Deidara wasn’t that bad. Well, whatever; Zetsu didn’t intend to spend too much time thinking about it. Thinking that it’s about time to do something different with this game, Zetsu takes hold of Deidara, tilts him backwards by the waist, leans down and kisses his neck. When he keys Deidara back up, the guy is as red as a tomato. “What the hell? What was that for??” “Has anybody ever told you that you’re very aesthetically pleasing?” “Aesth-what? You’re not making any sense, weirdo!” Zetsu just smiles and pulls Deidara back to him, this time enveloping him in a soft hug. “You make a tedious time much more bearable. Please continue to do so ... with your art.” Deidara doesn’t really get what Zetsu means, but his ears did pick up Zetsu’s compliment(?) to his art, so he walks away happy.
Kisame and Hidan
The half-shark and the half-plant relate to each other on their carnivorous tendencies, and Zetsu at least is glad to have at least one other person in the Akatsuki that understands his dietary choices. Well, almost. “I’ve eaten a lot of weird meats, Zetsu-san, but I’ve yet to taste human flesh.” “A shame; it really tastes a lot like salty pork.” Then Zetsu lowers his voice and asks, with an unsettling smirk, “Say you decided you want to try a human. IF you could eat any member of the Akatsuki, consequence-free, who would it be?” Zetsu is half-kidding and doesn’t expect Kisame to answer, so he’s surprised when he answers, without hesitation, “Hidan.” “That’s odd; that would be my choice, too. The scent of blood is always on him. Well-seasoned entree.” Kisame bursts out laughing, and Hidan, who happens to be walking by, hears him and stops. “What’s so funny, freak? You laughin’ about mouth-fucking Bigger Freak over there?” Kisame smiles, showcasing ALL of his sharp teeth; and Zetsu says, quietly, “You smell good, Hidan. Can you come closer so that I can catch a better whiff?” and something about the look he’s giving him makes Hidan’s blood run cold. “No fucking way, you crazy weed!” He informs Zetsu that he’s not going to kiss him, and he walks backward to his room, keeping a close eye on Kisame and Zetsu until he reaches his door ... and locks it. Kisame laughs once more, and then he leans into Zetsu and kisses his cheek, before returning to his own room. On his way down the hall he stops at Hidan’s door and says, sweetly, “Have a good night, brat!” which is met with loud cursing behind the wood.
Tobi
When Zetsu first laid eyes on a much younger Obito, he was positive that the kid wouldn’t live through the night. Bloodied, bruised, and with half of his internal organs either rearranged or crushed entirely — “No. He is strong.” Zetsu could only look at Madara in disbelief; what about this dying child seemed in any way “strong”? But then Obito lived through that night, and the next, and before Zetsu knew it, he was taking his place in the grand scheme of this Akatsuki Madara had put together. But for the longest time, Zetsu was sad anytime he so much as looked at “Tobi”; he had watched a bright young boy whose hope couldn’t be crushed even by a boulder deteriorate into an angry, vengeful man who had witnessed (and been mentally and emotionally damaged by) the deaths of all that he once held dear. But a miracle of sorts began slowly unfolding; the more time Obito spent around these people, the happier he seemed to become. It was as though he’d regained his family; and although these individuals are really nothing more than fodder for what’s to come, Zetsu is happy that they are managing to provide Obito with the peace that he deserves. “Tobi” approaches him now, and, seeing that they’re alone, chances it to take off his mask. “Long day,” he says, using his own voice, to which Zetsu agrees. “Longer when you’re starving.” Obito smiles at the comment, and his childlike grin shows flashes of the boy who danced in triumph when he was able to complete a set of push-ups on his own. “You’re always starving though.” “You’re not one to talk; I watched you put away at least eight trays of dango yesterday.” The two chuckle, and Obito moves closer, looking shy now. “Ready?” Zetsu nods, and Obito leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth, just barely touching the bottom of Zetsu’s lips. During the kiss, Zetsu closes his eyes and inhales; all of the candy and pastries that the man ate gave him a delightfully natural, sweet scent. Obito slides his mask back on and turns to go, but before he gets far, Zetsu calls out to him, “Hey?” “Yeah?” “I have a serious question for you.” “What is it?” Using White Zetsu’s voice, and making his grin even wider, Zetsu asks, “All that crap you eat ... does it make you have to crap a lot during the day?” Obito’s face turns red behind the mask and he bursts out into a raucous laugh. “All these years! All these YEARS and YOU’RE STILL ASKING ME ABOUT CRAPPING!” He laughs so hard that he wakes up Deidara, whose room is closest to the living room area. “Tobi, what the fuck?! Go to bed before I stick a kunai up your ass!” Obito immediately goes into Tobi-mode and apologizes to his Senpai. Deidara goes back to his room and Obito gives one last wave to Zetsu before going to his own.
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alreadyblondenow · 4 years
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Black on black | Lucas Wong
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▸ Lucas x reader ▸ Smut, Sprinkle of angst, devil au ▸ HALLOWEEN SERIES: 127 HOUSE ▸ 3/5 for NEOHALLOWEEN writing festival hosted by @nct-writers
Summary: We’ve read different stories about humans summoning demons to ask them for a favor but what happens if, the devil himself summons humans so he can have his own fun? The devil himself strikes a deal with a sinner to save her from the trouble she singlehandedly caused in exchange for her to accept the torture that the devil has planned for her. In bed. But an unexpected turn of events happened that even the devil himself did not see it coming.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Rough sex, bleeding while sex, choking, swearing, mentions of alcohol, blood play?, bleeding, unprotected sex, mentions of blackmail, filth, straight up filth, fingering, it’s the devil so its rough sex click away if you’re not into that, mentions of depression
A/N: PURE FILTH. I made this as a breather from the two fics before this hehe. Pure fiction and inspired by some movies of course. Don’t expect that this is good like the two fics before this hehehehhehe I just wanted to write for Lucas, finally. 
Taglist: Again, I hope I didn’t miss anyone, if yes please do message me so I can apologize huhu @huangxx @fruityutas @floweringtheflowers​
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Growing up, we’ve read different stories about humans summoning demons to ask them for a favor but what happens if, the devil himself summons humans so he can have his own fun? Execute his own way of torturing humans even if they’re still alive and breathing here on Earth?
Lucas, the devil himself. Comes to play in our world during Devil’s Night, his night. It’s like a birthday party for him but nobody knows who he is just how he likes it. He made this huge party for his own pleasure, looking at the humans wearing different costumes, reading their faces, and waiting for a perfect timing. He is specifically looking for someone he can ruin for a good laugh. Someone whom he can ruin in the sheets but also ruin her spirits, her point of view in life, her way of thinking.
The house your friend brought you in was loud and blaring for Halloween night. It was a house and not a club, but the party was so wild that it looked like a club from the outside. Everyone is dressed perfectly for Halloween and tonight, you dressed how you feel. Black wings, black dress, black everything. Perfect for mourning your innocence, purity, and dignity.  
You plan on drinking and pouring all your sorrows at the dance floor, flirt a little if life permits, and maybe go home with a random stranger and have a one night stand. It was a desperate call, you just want to forget your stupidity, feel numb, and be distracted. Fuck morality you said to yourself.
“Did you eat before we get here? You already look fucking wasted” your friend asked, shouting at you so you can hear her.
“No. But I’m fine” you answer her after downing a tequila shot. You feel tired already from too much dancing, mingling with strangers but no one is interesting enough. Little did you know, someone is very interested in you.
He can smell your pain, your struggles, and your desperate call. Your sin is fresh for him and you’re in need of torture, he has a great feeling that he will enjoy this night. The thought of it makes Lucas blush and feel excited for the cherry on top of this night. He was smiling darkly on his little corner, watching your every move, entertained on how you down your alcohols with so much desperation to feel numb.
You drown yourself in the sea of people, dance with strangers who reeks of alcohol, feeling and letting the alcohol get into your system. Everything was blurry. The party lights change every second following the beat of the music. You watch the surroundings turn colored to black, colored to black, colored to black.
“Oh” until someone handsome startled you and appeared in front of you out of nowhere. Looking into his eyes made everything slow, maybe it’s just the alcohol or simply because he’s just handsome and dreamy.
“I think you’re the one for me” shameless. Bold. Just like that, he has you wrapped around his finger.
“Do I know you?” you tried stopping your smile and with your best effort, you put on a serious face. But he can see right through you.
He smirked and came closer, smelling your perfume, and shamelessly bit your left ear. “No. But I know what you did yesterday” you pushed him away but the man was strong and enticing. He held you close to him, holding you on your waist as your eyes are finally captured by his. “I know what you did to get your promotion, such a bad girl you are” you feel his hand slide under your dress, caressing the softness of your skin.
“Tell me the truth, does it feel good to blackmail your boss by forcing him to have sex with you and secretly make a sex tape? Scaring him that you will show it to his wife and his three daughters?” he chuckled darkly while he enjoys watching you get scared.
“Fuck you! I deserve this promotion-“ you croaked, feeling your tears run down your cheeks. But you won’t let this man get inside your head and tried to put up a fight, showed him you’re not scared. Lucas became even more entertained when he saw you cry and fake your bravery.
He didn’t expect you to be quite a fighter and a little fierce, but he loves a good challenge. And you’re definitely it. “Of course you do, but I’m not here to expose you. I want to give you a deal. I will make this all go away, but receive the torture that I have planned for you tonight” his voice became even more inviting and to be completely honest you’re open to accept anything and desperate to make it all go away. What you did was something you want to forget, you’re not a bad person just a very desperate one.
“Who are you? How can you make this all go away, I don’t want anyone to get hurt” He played with the strap of your bra that fell off your shoulder, running his thumb on your clothed nipple. By this time you feel so nervous because you have no idea what this man can do to you.
“I’m the devil and you’re in big trouble clever girl”
You saw it in your own eyes. Under the flicking lights. His face became scaly, the horns on his head look too good to be fake, red dark eyes that hold terror, teeth sharp and dirty as he laughs at you. Then suddenly returned to his handsome form, the one you can stomach to look at.
“F-fine, I’ll do everything you want. Since you’re not giving me any choice here but after this deal, I never want to see you again” you looked at him with scared eyes but still, you stood in front of him with the right amount of bravery.
“You’re not in the position to ask for something. Just enjoy this privilege” the way he kisses your cheek so softly disgusts you after seeing his true form.
For you, you only agreed to do this because the night can come and go. The sun will soon rise and you will be given another day to start over and forget about this night. Just like any other one night stand, you just have to make the sex count, enjoy yourself, and then forget about everything. What can possibly go wrong? You were looking forward to a good fuck tonight anyway.
‘Receive the torture that I have planned for you tonight’ those words linger in your mind like a promise that you’re waiting for him to fulfill. It irritates you how he’s just devouring you while you sit comfortably on his lap by the edge of his massive bed. His dress shirt is only half unbuttoned and you don’t know why you’re itching to get him naked already. So with all your confidence, you unbutton his shirt fully and expose his perfect body.
It made you speechless. Tan skin, perfect chest, abs hard as a rock. It amuses him how you’re completely enchanted by his body. “Remove your clothes, leave your panties” you do as you’re told, removing your own clothes while you kept your eyes lock on the man in front of you. “Perfect” he whispered, brushing his fingers on your now exposed nipples. Soft and slow, making it sensitive, making you whine and turn your head around as you roll your hips slowly on his clothed cock. He is big you’re sure of it.
He puts his thumb on your clothed clit, touching you with the utmost care, taking his time with you, and returning his lips on your neck. “Wheres that torture you were talking about?” you whine out your concern, still waiting for that promise.
“Shut up” is all he said. But it wasn’t stern. It was in an airy tone in between kissing your neck and your boobs, he almost sounded weak but that’s impossible.
He roughly put you in bed, ruined your panties in one go, and spread your legs like you’re just nothing. It was quite a rush and it happened so fast. You don’t know when did he remove his pants and underwear but he is now devouring the valley between your boobs, kissing it softly while his hand caresses your legs like he owns you.
Did it sink in already to you? That you’re now naked in bed and about to have sex with the devil?
His hard cock brushes on the insides of your thighs, feeling how big it is and already doubting if it could fit inside you. “It will” he whispers, ah, he can read your mind. Great. “fuck me already” you spoke to him in your mind, which made him smile.
“How many times do I have to tell you, you’re not in the position to ask for something” he bit your lower lip and made you bleed. He licks the blood and licked your lips. How surprising, you like what he’s doing so you wrapped your arms around him and did the same thing to him.
You bit his lips. Let it bleed and lick his lips right in front of his eyes.
Lo and behold. This is the first time a human surprised him with such boldness. As much as it hurts his pride being continuously challenged, he still wants to see your face when he finally ruins you. But it seems like your touch is ruining him, the way your hands roam around his back is addicting for him. How can this be? “Don’t touch me” he said, but this time it wasn’t soft. He sounded angry and frustrated. But you didn’t stop and continue touching him, irritating him more with your touch forcing him to kiss you.
“I said don’t touch me” he repeats and you feel his skin getting warmer like a kettle on the stove.
“No. Let me touch you, that way you can enjoy more”
It’s not that you already found out that your touch affects him. He is naturally enticing, luring, and handsome. There’s no way you will let this moment pass without having your own fun. A handsome man is on top of you, perfect kissable thin lips, beautiful body with perfectly tanned skin, you don’t care anymore if his eyes turned red and dark.
Lucas on the other hand has never seen anyone look at him with full admiration. How you swirl your finger around his nipples, and kiss him with all the lust you have surprised him. He didn’t expect this kind of pleasure, he felt like a king.  
Desperate people can do horrible things like sleeping with the devil. “Are we going to fuck or are we just going to admire each other for the whole night?” you asked him and he was challenged. He lifts your hips and rests it on his thigh, dragging you completely on the mattress as he spread your legs even wider than before. “I’m completely aware that you’re not a virgin anymore… but tonight I’m gonna make you bleed. I will hurt you and you” there was his scary tone again that sends a shiver in your spine and widen your eyes.
“Hmm?” the answer to your question was answered by one swift move.
Lucas rammed his cock in your tight walls, not giving a fuck if it hurts you. “Shit!” you covered your mouth and breathed deeply as you feel Lucas pulling out completely and ramming his cock again inside you.
It hurt. But just like the first time you had sex, the pain was gone after a few hard thrusts.
He did make you feel like a virgin again and that completely blows your mind. How? As expected, it was a good fuck. Better than anything you’ve had and you’re happy you gave in. So happy that you were smiling while hurting, moaning a string of curses while his fingers dig on your skin.
He pulled out his cock and ran a finger on your slit. The bold move made you whine and you feel your bud so sensitive. He showed you his middle finger with your blood on it, smirked, and licked his finger clean with a devilish smile. He went back to fucking you real hard your head bumps on his headboard. The way he was fucking you was like he haven't had sex for a year.
He cums inside you and started to roll his hips slowly. “I need to rest. Go slow” again, your body is answering to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, he’s giving in from your touch.
“Did your boss made you bleed this good when he was fucking you on his table yesterday?” he asks while still rolling his hips oh so slowly and showering your neck with kisses. He wasn’t tired at all even though he’s grunting and breathing heavily. You feel his soft touches again around your chest, tracing your collar bone but when his hand reaches your neck, he suddenly chokes you and thrust quickly putting you on edge again.
“Harder,” you said, struggling but it pleasures you. You are truly the perfect one for him he thought. As he went harder, choking you until you reach your high again, you watch him smile in satisfaction kissing you while choking and fucking you hard amuses him to the core.  
Oh, how he loved the sex! After cumming inside you, he finally let go of your neck, letting you cough and catch your breath. Your body feels weak and tired, he definitely worn you out but he seems ready to go for another round, so this time you beg. “Please. Rest”
He chuckled and continued kissing your body, devouring your lips, making your nipples swollen. You noticed he’s making you touch him now, he seems to be addicted to your touch at this point. He can’t stop holding your hand, intertwine it with his, and whenever you pull your hand away just to teas him he grips it hard and wrap your arms around his neck.
Still body to body and his cock inside you, Lucas was asking for another round but you refuse. He might be the devil but consent is still important. You refuse and refuse until he gets tired of asking. “Okay. I give up. But that was-“
“Great? Awesome? Admit it you’re already looking forward to seeing me again” you were still struggling to talk from too much choking, the feeling of his big hands around your neck still lingers on your skin.
“Come to Hell with me. You’re the best I’ve had so far- I can make you rich, I’ll give everything you want” he reaches for your hand and placed a soft kiss at the back of it.
“Did you forget that I agreed to this because I have a perfect life here? Don’t forget your part of the bargain, hmm?” it completely surprised him how you easily refused his offer and still embraced your life here. After everything that happened in his bed, he still can’t believe you don’t want to stay with him.
When you got up to clean his cum dripping from your legs and prepare yourself to come home, he stopped you from leaving his room. Kissed you more and for the first time in his entire existence, he begged. “I’m not going to say it again, it hurts my pride. Stay with me”
“Do you love me? After we fucked like that? You suddenly love me?”
“I don’t love you”
“Then I don’t have any reason to stay and come with you” you kissed him one last time like what you always do to every man you slept with.
He felt betrayed, frustrated, and annoyed.
After having sex with him, you left his house limping and sore but quite glowing because of the amazing sex. It was fun while it lasted, but all good things come to an end.
Lucas did make it all go away. He gave you a clean spot for the promotions, deleted your boss’s memories about you blackmailing him, and he deleted the only evidence of what you did beforehand. It was like magic for you and you got all these for free by just having sex with him. What a win-win situation. Your life became perfect as it can be after that night in 127 House. No one can take this all away from you. Or so you thought.
He built your career in just one snap of his finger, the same goes for how he ruined your life. Just because you hurt his pride and refused his offer. After a few months, he released the video to the police and got you arrested. Laughing on the side as he watches you get your hands cuffed. Listening to your cries in jail, it’s like a lullaby for him. But that’s not where his torture ends, he even ruined your mental health. Made you depressed while you were doing time, made your family turn their backs against you. Not even one visit for a year.
That’s why you quickly jumped in bed when finally someone remembered you. Even just one visit from your family can lift your spirits.
But he wasn’t family.
“You did all this!” without hesitation you shouted at him, showing your anger from your side of the room. But he was just sitting there, watching you cry and shout. Smirking.
“Shut up. I’m here to offer something” there he is again with his twisted deals, “Come down there with me. I have a contract here, just to make everything professional and tidy. Sign it. Or you will suffer more”
He was sitting cooly in front of you, like a rich man buying a piece of a very expensive jewelry. One of the guards un-cuffed you and handed you a pen and the contract that will make everything go away. Is being with him for all eternity better than jail? Will he finally keep his word this time? What if one day he found another woman who can offer the same things?  
“You said you don’t love me”
“I lied. I don’t know what love means but if it's close to obsession, then I’m obsessed with you.”
“Why can't you leave me alone?”
He chuckled darkly and leaned closer to the glass that’s keeping you away from each other. “You’re in love with danger and all things dark that's why I can't let go of you. You are, truly the one for me” You turned silent and he just watched you cry in front of the contract, gripping your pen and confused as fuck. He was running out of patience.  
“Are you going to sign that or I will make you?”
For the last time, you read the contract and read the words ‘forever’ over and over again and looked at Lucas before you sign it. Forever with this man? you signed it with a heavy heart and smashed the pen on the table and cry some more.
“Lastly,” he stood up from his seat, buttoning his coat and fixing his sleeve. “Say that you love me” he smirked again in front of you, giving you no choice.
“I love you”
He looked deep in your eyes for some time, smelling your fear through the glass. And with one snap, the glass was gone. It didn’t surprise you this time, you’re well aware of what he’s capable of. In the first place, he ruined your life.
He snapped his fingers again, but this time you’re surprised. “Did you know that after you cleaned my dripping cum from your legs that night you come to bed with me and we had sex again- oh! It was better than the first and second round!”
Flashbacks in your head were playing, as you remember how he lured you in bed that night again. The way you removed your dress in front of him again was so clear this time, he was smiling and you were enjoying his touch. You closed your eyes and the next memory that played in your head was how he put your hands above your head, fingers intertwined with his and the feeling of your fingers gripping tightly still ghosts your hands until now.
“It was all an illusion Y/n. You never left 127 House, I just made you believe that you’re in jail. If you thought that it was already a year, well, it’s only been three days”  
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miraculouscontent · 3 years
Text
(non-Miraculous asks)
Anonymous said:
Ok this may just be me but I hate deconstructions. I feel like they are always mean spirited and try to be dark and edgy and thinks that every single person is an asshole because that’s “realistic” when no it’s not. This maybe because I like superhero stories and love it when the heroes overcome their struggles.
I can agree for the most part. Whenever I hear “okay but what if it was dArK--” I’m just okay, gonna stop you right there.
Anonymous said:
I swear, nothing bothers me more than people who want Miraculous Ladybug to literally just be Yandere Simulator(with Marinette as Ayano, Alya as Info-chan, Adrien as Taro, Chloe as Osana, Lila as Kizana, Kagami as Megami, and Luka as Budo). It just grinds my gears, especially because they're, once again, framing Marinette as a stalker, which just makes her look bad, AND pits all the girls against each other for Mr. Generic Harem Protagonist, once a-fucking-gain. Just go play the actual game, ok?
All I'm hearing is that now I have to ship Ayano and Budo and write a fic where the ghost girl uses fancy fantasy magic to merge her soul with Ayano and lets her actually have emotions, healing her from being a yandere while the ghost girl (in a way) gets to live a life she was cut short of, also allowing Ayano to be happy and go onto be friends with all the rivals.
Extremely convoluted but that’s the only way we get happy endings in this house.
Anonymous said:
I remember how, when writing Sailor Moon, Naoko Takeuchi refused to bow to older male writers wanted, say, for the girls to be stereotypical manga characters, with one being overweight, one being a stereotypical nerd, etc. But Naoko wanted each of the girls to be beautiful and feminine. While I don't like that they all share a body type, I admire how she didn't listen to grown men when writing for and about young girls. And I can't help but think about how Madoka is the antithesis of all that.
I can appreciate writers who put their foot down to stick to their values. There are limits of course, but yeah, a women writing women probably shouldn’t be listening to a man’s input. I’m sure good advice exists buuut...
Anonymous said:
What is your ranking of the seasons of the year from most to least favorite and why?
Summer - I work best in the warmth
Spring - Always brings images of flowers blooming to mind
Autumn - Things are getting cold and I don’t like it
Winter - It can go choke for all I care
Anonymous asked:
Someone on TV Tropes actually said that the name Feminist Fantasy should be changed because "feminism excludes men the same way meninism excludes women" and actually had the nerve to link that to the "Not So Different" trope, as if women haven't been excluded throughout the history of almost every human society. Fortunately, someone responded to them in a way that technically amounted to "do your damn research" but I'm still facepalming so hard at TV Tropes' "what about the men" rhetoric.
I feel like I lost braincells reading this.
Anonymous asked:
I feel like in fiction written by men there are only three flaws that female protagonists are allowed to have: clumsy, boy-crazy, or ashamed of their flat chests. I hate it.
Don’t forget, “having to listen to the men for how they’re supposed to feel.”
Anonymous asked:
Jatp. Nominated. For. Seven. Emmys. SEVEN!!!! Miraculous could NEVER. Literally.
omg!! Congrats to Julie and the Phantoms!
Anonymous asked:
WHAT ARE YOUR FLASHBACKS TO EVER AFTER HIGH?? I GOTTA KNOW? OMG?
Oh, I’ve seen basically the whole series, though the one I remember most is definitely Epic Winter. It was my favorite one though Beauty and the Beast is my favorite Disney movie so I’m biased.
I also like a lot of the “twists” and just--crazy concepts they rolled with, like with Red Riding Hood’s story and how Apple White gets woken up from her slumber.
Anonymous asked:
You're gonna be happy to hear this...I just started watching Cardcaptor Sakura today, and holy shit not only do I love it, but I also love how freaking META it is! I know you said you're not all that knowledgeable about Magical Girl, but this show is AWARE that it's a Magical Girl show! From Tomoyo(the main reason this show is so meta, tbh) realizing Sakura is a Magical Girl and asking if she has a transformation pose, to designing outfits for her(more on that later) to videotaping her(aka literally making a Magical Girl anime out of her Magical Girl friend), it just has fun with itself and plays with Magical Girl tropes without making a mockery of them like all those "dark" male-aimed ones do(lookin' at you, Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna!).
And not only is it hilarious and adorable(especially with Sakura's crush on Yukito, Tomoyo's crush on Sakura, and Touya picking on Sakura, but playfully), but I love how it's riddled with girl power. While watching some of the first episodes I was looking forward to seeing Syaoran(partly because I love male Tsunderes and partly because I can't pronounce his name), and was surprised that he wasn't in the first few episodes, but more importantly I was so happy to see a show that treats its female characters with respect and shows women unironically receiving support from other women and being shown possessing power and authority.
I love Sakura and Tomoyo's friendship even if I hate the trope of "Lesbian Never Gets The Girl"(not that I think she's entitled to Sakura's affections or anything, but still.) and watching her support Sakura in her magic endeavors without being jealous or vindictive, I love that they're allowed to be independent and smart but that the show doesn't forget that they're kids, instead of making them like Manon and Chris, and I love that the show passes the Bechdel test in pretty much the first or second episode, and that pretty much every important and unimportant character we meet that's not Sakura's family members, Kero, or Yukito(plus maaaayyybe the Shadow Clow Card) are female.
Even little things, like all FOUR of Tomoyo's bodyguards in the second episode being female without there being a "reason" or the show making a big deal of it(either in a "yay girl power!" way or a "what but women can't x" way or an objectifying way) fills me with insurmountable joy. Also, I love that the show follows the Magical Girl trend of pretty much admitting that femininity is power, since frilly dresses are stated to be the most "fitting" thing for a Cardcaptor to wear, as without it, they might not be mentally up to the task, and this is an unironic truth rather than a joke(although Sakura is shown to be embarrassed, but it's much more likely that she's simply not used to that kind of gear due to not being rich as Tomoyo is.) or a gag.
I just thought I should tell you this because I know you like Cardcaptor Sakura, and with the crappy episodes that just came out of this show, I think you deserve to read an ask that's about a GENUINE girl power Magical Girl show, instead of yet more Miraculous Ladybug salt or Madoka Magica hate(not that there's anything wrong with either of those two, but it just gets grating after a while.). Overall, I'm looking forward to watching this show, since I've been looking for a Magical Girl show to watch nowadays(I've been meaning to watch Star Twinkle Precure but I can't find the third episode and all of Cardcaptor Sakura is on YouTube now, so.). So excited!
Hey, I’m glad that you’re having fun with it!
Though, just a warning, you might wanna steer clear of the Clear Card arc. It’s a sequel to the original series made waaaay after the original (think the equivalent of Yashahime for Inuyasha, though continuing with the original characters) but omg I hated it.
Anonymous asked:
With the crappy Season 4 episodes that just came out I'm glad I got into Cardcaptor Sakura when I did. Who needs "Marinette needs to make a mistake every episode and learn something from it" when you can have genuine girl power and sweetness incarnate?
Alya could never compete with Tomoyo, I’m just sayin’.
Anonymous asked:
Your comment about white men feeling "disenfranchised" because more shows are about black people and/or women(I say and/or because the two aren't mutually exclusive.), as if there aren't a million other things they could be watching instead is so true! It reminds me of how I was talking to someone recently about the new generation of MLP, in which I stated that we didn't need a male mane pony(spoiler alert: they have one, sadly.), and he claimed that it would be beneficial since many shows aimed at boys at least try to include at least one main girl, and that it would be good for G5 of MLP to have at least one strong male lead so that boys could have a role model and know that the show isn't "girly".
Okay, so far, so good, but this I could chalk up to just unconscious internalized misogyny, especially since he didn't say it in any sort of "way". So I respectfully told him that the scale regarding representation is already not equal and that boys can look up to girls and that a show being girly is not a bad thing and all that stuff that you already know about. Then he responded claiming some stuff about how he keeps trying to pitch stories about straight white male characters and how nobody is accepting his offers and so this means that straight white men are underrepresented compared to everyone else. He even explicitly said, and I quote "White people are actually critically underrepresented in media right now. Especially boys."; I swear to the Goddess above.
At this point I was officially upset as a black girl, to hear this white(and presumably adult) man telling me that he was underrepresented in media compared to me, even saying that the media execs are practicing "quotas and tokenization"(and yes, he repeatedly used those terms for any instance of representation, even when I asked him politely to stop.) by replacing women with men or white people with pocs and are making white men look like incompetent doofuses.
He also kept saying stuff about how shows are always shoehorning people of color in where they don't belong by casting them in settings such as Shakespeare and medieval times when "realistically" there were no people of color during those time periods(which is obviously not true, it's just not what the history books show us.), and made a really insensitive comment about how black children in the USA today don't know the significance of having the first black president because the media supposedly already shows them black people in various professions(despite also claiming he couldn't speak to the "black experience" and yet here he is whitesplaining that shit.).
It got to the point where he was seriously and unironically using the word "blackwashing". When I pointed out to him that white men aren't underrepresented and that it's just his self-centered ego telling him that they are, that the word "blackwashing" isn't a thing, and that mis/underrepresentation in media DOES affect black kids negatively(even citing myself as an example) he went on to claim that I was being tone-deaf and that "blackwashing" is just as bad as whitewashing, and that making Ariel black is just as bad as making Jasmine white.
At this point I had to bang my head on the table and explain to him the difference; his ass still wouldn't get it. Eventually he started saying some really skeevy and hypocritical shite that white men say all the time when whining about how "oppressed and underrepresented" they are: that black people and/or women
(it looks like there might be an ask missing here, in which case, sorry if Tubmlr ate it!)
avor of supporting the commonly believed LIE that "women and/or minority groups don't have as much history worth learning about, so there's no point in focusing on them." He also kept using patronizing, condescending, mansplaining language such as "let me explain it to you" or "you still don't get it do you?", and when he said women had nothing to contribute to society because "oppression" he even had the nerve to tack on "welcome to the unequal society" as if I hadn't been lecturing him about just that.
Because obviously only white men did anything worthwhile or important in history. At this point, I had to block him. I couldn't take it anymore and this was on an MLP site of all places(although I'm probably just as guilty of that part, but at least I wasn't an ass!). I just can't stand white men who "want to be oppressed so bad" but still want to claim that their achievements are more important and deserve to be more prominent. Honestly, so many white men are so fragile the second they're not in the spotlight. I can't help but think that despite all the privilege afforded to their class being a white man sounds like the worst thing ever.
“he claimed that it would be beneficial since many shows aimed at boys at least try to include at least one main girl, and that it would be good for G5 of MLP to have at least one strong male lead so that boys could have a role model and know that the show isn't "girly". “
I might be looking too deep into that but I don’t like the idea of, “Well WE squeezed in a girl and therefore YOUR SHOWS--” like it’s some sort of matter of “fairness” or that boys’ shows aren’t putting in girls out of a genuine like for them but because they “need” one or it’s some sort of obligation.
Also, we need to stop this idea that boys can’t look up to female characters and vice versa for girls. You already said it but yeah.
And yeah, I hear "quotas and tokenization" and I officially tune out of whatever the person is saying, lol. White men are critically underrepresented???? Newsflash, maybe it’s just because others are being represented more??
Just the whole thing about whites being “underrepresented” boggles my mind. White people don’t have some sort of special ability or skill that other races can’t do themselves unless you count the “superpower” of white privilege.
Like, oh my god, all that “whitesplaining” and having to read the word “blackwashing” was physically painful. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I don’t know how they got hold of the technology to communicate with you from whatever time period their from, presumably the Stone Age.
Don’t even blame you for blocking them. There’s just a level of absolute... blindness? Arrogance??? That comes with the territory with them sometimes, I swear. You had every right to be upset; other races come to ask for equality and fair representation and suddenly you have these white men (not all obviously but damn) coming by and crying that they’re being oPpReSsEd. U_U
Like, honestly, my father in particular is absolutely that kind of person so I’ve heard that kind of stuff before. it’s all gross.
On a slightly unrelated note (trying to end this with some positivity), I hadn’t even heard about a fifth generation of MLP until I read this, and just wanted to let you know that I really hope you have a really good time with it! Hopefully the male character isn’t... well, you know.
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itsclydebitches · 3 years
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Some of my friends in the RWBY FNDM actually said people don’t forgive their friends for betraying them (Jaune killing Penny) but will forgive strangers betraying them (Em killing Penny). Uh…NO. Being close and attached to someone leads to bias. People are more willing to see someone they don’t know as evil for hurting them BECAUSE THEY DON’T KNOW THAT PERSON. They said this as an excuse to why RWBY will be pissed at Jaune. NOPE! (1/2)
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I think it can go either way depending on the person, or in this case the character. People aren't so uniform that they'll have a single, predictable response to someone's actions depending on whether they're in the "friend" or "stranger" category, to say nothing of the complexities of figuring out when one moves from one category to the other. (Is Ozpin the beloved and respected headmaster they look up to, or a virtual stranger whose age and power makes him someone the group never would have seriously connected with? The fandom is divided.) But that connection (or lack thereof) can go in either direction. It might make it easier to forgive them, or it might make it seemingly impossible. I've been replaying Witcher's Blood & Wine where Anna Henrietta is so relieved to have her sister back that she's blind to the horrors she's committed - love make forgiveness an inevitability. I'm also rewatching Criminal Minds where Reid is furious with JJ for keeping Prentiss' secret from him, specifically because they're so close and JJ was the one to comfort him over Prentiss' "death" - love makes forgiveness that much harder. And it's the same with strangers. If someone you're less close to commits a horrible act, you might respond with pure disgust because who are they to you? Nobody. They're defined only by that one action. Or, their distance might make it easier to forgive them once you have gotten to know them a bit, simply because the action didn't, at the time, feel personal. You know the version of them now, the one that "counts," the one you're emotionally attached to. I don't think it's an either/or situation here, where there's a correct answer of "Yes characters will get angry if they're close to the person in question" or "No characters will be less angry if they're close to them." It depends on the individual, the action, the circumstances, the state of mind of the person trying to grant forgiveness, and a hundred other, smaller factors. If Yang did something horrible, would Blake be less willing to forgive her because they're so close, or more willing because they are? That depends on a whole range of things from "What exactly did Yang do?" to "Has Blake eaten and slept and generally not been stressed out of her mind lately, making her less likely to lash out?" It, to be blunt, comes down to good, nuanced writing.
Which is why the Jaune situation is... complicated. And sadly, RWBY doesn't do well with complicated. Free of the rest of Volume 8, my mind says the group has to be mad. How can they not? Even if Jaune had a 100% solid reason for killing Penny with no possible way to blame him - which, let's be frank, he doesn't. The guy has a healing semblance and just took her word that it was useless - it's not in our nature to approach a tragedy with that level of logical maturity (especially not after the crazy level of trauma that's been going on: Salem, battles, falling to their "deaths."). You don't have a friend admit they killed another friend and immediately go, "Oh yeah. Makes sense. Had to be done. No worries!" and move on with your life. You at least start with some anger, whether it's rational or not, deserved or not. People harbor anger over deaths that we know, realistically, are not the fault of another person involved, we resent people who survived over others even though we know they had no control over it, and we even hate ourselves for hating that person, because we know it's not fair and we're feeling it anyway. If we have all that complexity tied up in deaths that are unambiguously not the fault of the person in question... what do you do with the guy who straight up agreed to an assisted suicide? Gave up on healing or retreat? Was the one to drag his sword across Penny's throat? The fandom recognized that scene as something intensely complicated, made worse by ineffectual writing. We knew, the second it had finished, that Jaune was not an easily categorized innocent here who should be treated solely as a victim of horrible circumstances. There's a very good reason why the fandom went, "What the fuck, Jaune" because this entire situation is so. messed. up. I'm not saying all this to paint Jaune as some irredeemable monster or anything, but rather to highlight that there should be a huge range of emotions coming off of this action. Whether we the audience or the characters decide what he did was the right thing or not, Jaune's actions are still objectively horrifying. He killed Penny. Was it necessary? Given RWBY's shoddy writing, idk, but that's not the point for an initial reaction. The point is, "How would you respond if you found out Friend A helped Friend B commit suicide, right after you'd worked so hard to keep Friend B alive, after she'd already come back from the dead?" The answer should be, "Uh, not well. Not well at all."
But this is RWBY. There should have been a range of emotions to Jinn's vision in Volume 6, but there wasn't. There should have been a range of emotions to Penny's resurrection, but there wasn't. There should have been a more persuasive reason for Jaune to kill Penny, a better job of stripping away other options, but there wasn't. Arguably, Penny shouldn't have died at all, not after being brought back, getting the Maiden powers, being made human... but she was. This situation is already a mess but then, as you say, anon, we have Emerald on top of it all. I mentioned above that it's "Free of the rest of Volume 8" that the group should be mad at Jaune, but obviously that's not how the story goes. I can't separate Emerald from the rest of this and yeah, it looks ridiculous for the group to have a long arc of hating Jaune after they forgave Emerald in, what? An hour? We can talk about that context all we want, but at the end of the day, Emerald's actions were too horrific to shrug off as they were and Jaune's action is also too horrific to shrug off. RWBY has, once again, backed itself into a corner. What the story actually needed was for Emerald to get a full redemption arc, allowing the group to process, grapple with, and learn to forgive her past actions through apologies and new actions to demonstrate growth, so that they could then later do a modified version of that with Jaune, one tailored to his character, their characters, and this new situation. The story needs the group to be mad at both of them because both did things that would generate different types of anger. But because Emerald was granted laughter almost immediately upon arriving at the mansion, yeah, it would read as absurd for the group to go through a whole arc of learning how to forgive Jaune... even though Jaune's actions arguably do need some kind of forgiveness arc. The situation is screwed either way. If the group forgives him quickly it's, "Really? He killed Penny and that's it? No one is going to struggle with that? That's absurd!" and if the group doesn't quickly forgive him it's, "Really? You'll insta-forgive the woman who has been trying to kill you for years, but won't grant the same thing to your friend who only took that action with good intentions? That's absurd!" And if the focus is on Jaune being mad at himself, we're right back to where we were in Volume 4: Jaune mourning a redhead in his life and getting too much focus. I really don't think there's a good solution here, which (as my more recent posts speak to), we're seeing more and more as the series goes on. The more material we get and the more shoddily that material is written, the more we're going to see future situations where we go, "I don't like any of the writing options here, because of something that happened in a previous volume." RWBY has created a situation where the group very much deserves to be angry - or at the very least conflicted - over Jaune's actions, but because it's following on the heels of Hazel, Emerald, and their own horrific choices across Volume 7 and 8, any anger will feel hollow, hypocritical. But isn't that what we're left with? We've been here since the beginning of Volume 7 when Ruby repeated Ozpin's secrets and the story never acknowledged that either she's as bad as he is, or he's not as bad as they believed. We've been watching a show built on that hollow hypocrisy for at least two years (longer, really) and it's just getting worse the more the story introduces sensitive material and then doesn't appropriately follow up on it.
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