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#sorry to everyone having to suffer through my posts but like!!!!!!!! were EXPERIMENTING! were having a BLAST!

conhivemindcent · 10 months

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So I’ve been consuming a lot of the posts about Oceangate and now that it’s safe to assume the passengers are dead, I want to give my own take. Feel free to disagree.

Firstly, I never heard this on the news. I did hear about the boat where 78 immigrants were killed and hundreds missing off the coast of Greece. This may be a cultural and proxemics thing though, as I’m British (we have shit immigrant laws) and the Oceangate fiasco took place closer to America and Canada. So those claiming this is probably a case of Tumblr once again being American-centric.

Secondly, i don’t know how to feel about the deaths. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. They knew what they were getting into with this, and that their deaths were very likely. I do think this was a failing of their own hubris and also a huge waste of money. Insert something about capitalism and the woes of such here. But if the ship didn’t implode, it would’ve been a living hell. Starving, cramped, excrement everywhere, dark. It sounds like something out of a nightmare rather than something real. I don’t know if I feel sorry, as it’s most likely I won’t experience this ever in my life, but I definitely feel bad about it.

Third, I hope Oceangate gets sued. This was unsafe af, and where most of my anger is directed. These people tried turning a tragedy (itself also being rooted in capitalism) into a tourism spot for only the elite. Not to mention the unsafe conditions and the knock-off Xbox controller used to pilot the ship. This definitely seems like a scam and I hope they suffer repercussions for their actions, especially now it’s likely the CEO is dead.

Forth, I hope the ship imploded. That seems like the most humane way for this all to end. Battle about humaneness all you want and whether the rich deserve it, whether a 19-year-old nobody knew about prior to this deserves this, but I hope they all died quickly rather than long, drawn out, and suffering from lack of oxygen.

Fifth, some of the memes are funny. Mostly the ones about the Xbox controller. I don’t really like memes making fun of people dying. But then again I’ve never liked to make fun of death, whether deserved or not. (Exception to the kind of things in r/peoplefuckingdying because those are over-exaggerations of the most mundane stuff.)

Sixth, this should be taken as a cautionary tale. Don’t underprepare and do your research on shady seeming stuff. Don’t think you’re above death because you’ve got a spare load of money.

Seventh, leave the damn titanic alone. Everyone who was on it is now dead. The ship itself is crumbling. Leave it to rot, and let it echo through history books and that one James Cameron movie. Let children learn about it and use it to learn how to write newspaper articles and as a fun research project, which fun fact: is how I learnt about it. As an 8-9 year old. The novelty’s worn off in the past few years. Let’s just leave it as something cool for kids to learn and not add onto it with stupid stuff like Titan.

#con(versation)#titanic #oceangate #titan submersible

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callmeklair · 3 months

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I read your post about Ayato overhype and I 200% agree with you and appreciate you for writing it. I also read that other person's Ayato analysis and I just gotta say that that cursed fig defense is so dumb. First off that shit wasn't a thing when More Blood came out. It's not mentioned or referenced even once in any route. Because why would it be? It wasn't even thought of when the first games came out. Second even if it were a thing and Ayato truly was cursed, then why doesn't he experience the effects of the curse in any routes apart from his More Blood one (and, according to this particular Ayato stan, Ruki's)? Why doesn't he go crazy from thirst in Kou's route? Or in Subaru's? Or in Shuu's? etc etc. Also, if the curse is truly that excrutiating and debilitating then shouldn't Ayato be a complete and utter mess in the other characters Dark Fate, Lost Eden etc. routes? But he's not. He's totally fine. Because the stupid curse isn't canon to the games and you can not and should not use it to explain or justify his awful behavior in Ruki's MB route.

I'm sorry this got kind of long but I just needed to get this off my chest because it bothers me so much when toxic Ayato stans insist he is oh so pure of heart, an innocent victim and that he unlike the other characters can't be held accountable for his abusive acts 😑

(feel free to vent out in my ask box I don't mind. and sorry for the late reply, life is hectic)

the curse thing is such a loop/plot hole because in more blood EVERY diaboy gets thirsty after starting to have feelings for Yui, so yeah that curse thing isn't canon. and exactly! if that's the case, why isn't ayato suffering from thirst in other's route. okay let's not include MB considering the argument "they weren't close enough" but by the DF, all Sakamaki and Mukami boys warmed up to Yui, so Ayato should be suffering from thirst/curse in other's route????

I liked ayato, but after youngblood when I saw some people(not targeting to anyone, and I'm not just talking about Tumblr), not liking other people shipping Yui with any other boy because "they are not canon" made me slowly detach from AyaYui. otherwise they were in my top 5 a few years ago.

youngblood was just a fanservice. it was good for Ayato fans but Rejet messed it up. first the curse thing then the degrading of Shu and Subaru's character by making them "betray" ayato. which irks me because we all have read flashback scenes of these two from the VERY FIRST GAME, and we are completely aware with how sweet and gentle they were in childhood.

In CL, in Shu's route, it was shown how much he deeply cares about his brothers despite not showing it. so does it go for Subaru in Carla's route. you hear it? not in his OWN route but Carla's route.

the only difference is, because of trauma they weren't sure how to express it and always doubted/hesitated to trust or show true feelings to each other because of what happened to them. they all went through different experiences.

Ayato is Ruki's rival, just like how Subaru is for Kou, and Shu for Yuma. Ayato just came to take away Yui as a prey. "his thirst wasn't controllable and was locked in a dungeon. it was definitely the curse."

the curse didn't even exist at that time. it was just Rejet's plot to progress Ruki's route because if we remember, Ruki asked Ayato, before he took away Yui, if he had feelings for her and ayato replied with, feelings??? that's nonsense, the only value she has is her blood. It was a scene of confirmation to make Ruki realise his feelings and stop thinking "Adam is what she needs and not a snake" so that he can finally betray Karlheinz for Yui and run away with her, free her from this hell.

in conclusion, we have seen every diaboy saying how unique and special Yui's blood is, also a very rare thing (i guess?) so because of instincts as a vampire, Ayato only wanted to find Yui to drink her special blood.

the curse thing can never be canon because everyone gets thirsty in their route, EVEN SHIN in his BRUTE ending in DF. so are they cursed too??? no they aren't 😭

some actions can never be justifiable, I'll even say that about my own fav characters like Shin, Subaru, Carla, Reiji, etc.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yui komori #komori yui #diabolik lovers fandom #ayato sakamaki

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eddiessluttywaist · 1 year

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as if (part 4 based on angst ending)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES

summary: continuation of the angst ending of as if, moves away from how eddie has been acting just so you know 👀

pairing: ex-bully!mean!perv!soft!eddie munson x fem reader

word count: 10,964 words

content/warnings: swearing, mentions of smutty content MDNI (y/n is 18/19), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, brief threats and violence, rejection, angsttt, depression, very brief mention of unhealthy eating habits, heartbreak, yearning, anxiety, arguing, crying, near death experience, regret, isolation and loneliness. i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: i’m sorry this took me so long skbvdjkk enjoy the suffering. credit to whoever owns/posted that picture ^ it’s not mine :)

part one - part two - start of part three - angst ending to part three

Eddie Munson is an asshole.

He’s a cruel heartbreaker, that’s for sure. He’s selfish. He’s mean. He’s smug. He’s ruined love for you.

As much as that sentiment reeked of teenage melodrama, it’s still true. He’s ruined mean guys for you cause you know what to expect from them, and he’s ruined sweet guys for you cause you know better than to know what to expect. Eddie is someone who finds a way to be so sweet and charming for that subtle kind of control, just to turn out to be an asshole through and through. Every nicety and moment of tenderness was only to keep you on the hook for a good fuck; and if things hadn’t spiraled into an apocalyptic shitshow, he would’ve been the one and only reason for your aching misery.

He’s a lot of things. You could go through a list of adjectives that would make your mother gasp and cross herself.

He’s a life ruiner in so many ways—but he isn’t a killer.

Despite how he treated you, you liked to think you still had a good sense of his heart—even if he refused to give it to you the way you would’ve so readily given him yours. He’s smug and rotten, but murder is not something he’s capable of. Some violence? Probably. Maybe. Given the right circumstances. But he wouldn’t kill someone. So you were one of the few who weren’t surprised when news came out that he wasn’t to blame for everything that happened. Sure, there were still plenty of kooks who remained certain that he used his “ties with Satan” to open up a portal to Hell, but as more and more came out about that lab near the quarry—the rarer those types became.

By now nearly everyone’s forgotten about him, or at least that’s how it felt to you. No one talked about him—they didn’t even seem to think about him—but not you. Despite everything, his memory seemed to live on in your head. On repeat some days.

Just to clarify: he didn’t die. His memory didn’t need to be kept alive because he wasn’t—he was pretty damn close when he was found (at least from what you’ve heard), but he wasn’t dead. However, that didn’t change the fact that the people of Hawkins liked to act like he was. He was nowhere to be found for starters, and everyone left in town seemed to appreciate things that way so they didn’t have to address him.

The turnaround was baffling to you. How his name never even came up, and when it did people grew uncomfortable and tried to turn the conversation elsewhere. Even you—someone who decidedly hated his guts months before the day Chrissy Cunningham was found dead—thought he deserved something better than becoming a banned topic after what this town put him through.

You could remember the day he appeared on the news like it was yesterday.

You had been curled up on one corner of the couch of the living room, your mother on the other end, and your father in his La-Z-Boy. It was pitch black in the room with the only light source being the colorful and fuzzy glow of the television. It was unfortunately your mom’s night to watch her program so of course you and your dad were already half asleep by the time her show was suddenly interrupted.

“What the-!” your mom had gasped. “I wanna know what happens! Oh those darn news… people…”

She had trailed off as the reality of the emergency newscast sunk in, no longer reaching for the remote but settling back into her spot instead.

You didn’t really know Chrissy. She was popular and well-loved, and had hundreds of friends. You definitely weren’t one of them, though. Whether it was secretly too beneath her deep down in her innocent demeanor, or if you simply weren’t interested in gravitating around her enough for her to truly take notice of you. She was a sweet girl though. She was a senior like you and the few times you two interacted, she was nothing but kind. And even if she hadn’t been, she still wouldn’t have deserved what happened to her.

You remember your mother nervously toying that necklace she always wore as she watched the news with big eyes. The way your dad sat up more and gave the screen his full attention. The tension and anxiety that made the air in the living room feel heavy; and when you thought your throat couldn’t get any drier and your heart couldn’t race any faster—Eddie’s picture was plastered on the television.

You remember the way your hearing seemed to turn into a faint buzz as the newscaster spoke of the victim’s body being found in his trailer.

“I always knew that boy was trouble.” your dad grumbled out, and you had to fight the urge to huff out a laugh and tell him he had no idea.

Neither of them knew what happened between you two or that there was even a “you two” to begin with. And you certainly wouldn’t have said anything that night because then they’d know in the worst way possible. Admitting it back then at the start of Spring Break would’ve been admitting how deeply you had fallen for someone who was possibly wanted for murder.

Even if it was never explicitly stated that Eddie Munson had shattered your heart (when you were completely falling apart just a couple months before your hometown did the same) your mom had been quick to notice something was wrong. Motherly instincts or something like that—or, y’know, just the fact that you were visibly a mess.

Even at that start of it all you didn’t want to talk about that one particularly miserable day. You would wait until it was late at night to cry into your pillow. You had briefly lost some weight since the whole situation had left you with a solid knot in your stomach, leaving you horribly nauseous and deadening your appetite. The fact that you were constantly lying about being sick to avoid school was what truly confirmed your mom’s concerns.

Sure, you could’ve had a stomach bug. Maybe that’s why you had been picking at your food at dinner. Maybe that’s why you looked so pale and tired all the time. But then throughout the school week you would keep saying you were sick, and with the state you were in she didn’t have the heart to tell you your temperature was perfectly normal. Besides, you never skipped so she wasn’t all that suspicious at first so she let you stay home. You kept lying, though, and she finally felt she had to ask if something was going on at school.

You remember that time when boy problems still mattered so vividly. When Eddie Munson was still a mentionable name, even if you didn’t act like it. When your mom was checking in on you because of him and because her main concern was still little nuances in your behavior.

“Is something going on at school?” your mom had murmured softly as she sat on the edge of your bed.

It was nighttime and the only light in your room was the faint and warm glow of your bedside table, giving a false sense of comfort to the room that was filled with memories of him. Some spots of your room still smelled like him—especially by the window where he would sneak in, and sit on to smoke. It felt like cold spots in a haunted house to you.

“Is someone not treating you right?”

“No, mom, really. I just don’t feel well.” you murmured, and she can’t help but notice how dry your lips look. That little scab where you had been anxiously biting and picking at the skin there—a bad habit that only ever flared up when you were distraught, even as a child. You certainly looked ill, but her instincts were pointing elsewhere. She insisted you drink some of the water on your bedside table before she continued.

“Well…” she had sighed, smoothing out the blanket resting over you. “Is… is it a boy?”

You remember feeling your heart temporarily stop before lodging itself in your throat. You tried to ignore that burning feeling as you avoided breaking down and confirming her worries. But fighting it off didn’t mean that lump wasn’t in your throat. It didn’t mean your face didn’t get all warm as tears began to prick at your eyes. You were oddly silent as you kept your gaze down and shook your head. You were sure you could’ve held those tears in too, but then she got you to crack with a couple simple words.

“Oh honey…” She murmured and pulled you into her for a hug.

You didn’t want to tell anyone. It was embarrassing. It wasn’t even embarrassing—it was humiliating, mortifying. So you weren’t expecting how relieving it was to sob and finally let someone know, even if you didn’t go into detail.

“I thought he really cared about me d-deep down-“ you had wailed as your mom shushed you in a caring manner and rubbed your back.

You still appreciate the fact that she didn’t push. She didn’t urge you to tell her everything, she just let you cry until you were spent and she left to soak a face towel in cool water so she could press it to your flushed cheeks. She held you and murmured reassuringly, especially when you spoke up again—your voice horribly broken.

“I-It’s not fair because he’s perfectly fine and I… I’m…” you choked up after your tone got high with emotion before crumbling again.

“I know, honey, I know… it’s never fair…” she whispered. “But you’re gonna be okay. It feels like the end of the world now, but before you know it it’ll be a little bit better, okay?”

She had pulled back to look at you and wiped the tears off of your cheeks. “And then it’ll be better after that, and even more after that. You’re going to keep healing, I promise.”

In hindsight she wasn’t wrong, but there had still been so many days where you wished Eddie Munson would turn up dead for what he did to you. And now you felt horribly guilty for those thoughts after he had been so close. Even though you still despise him deep down, you hate yourself a little bit too. For letting him in, in the first place. For falling in love and for admitting it. For falling apart because he didn’t feel the same. For wishing he would drop dead.

And there was another thing that burned away at you. Right next to the fact that no one mentioned Eddie, was the frustrating fact that Jason was still talked about and practically canonized. There were portraits of him and Chrissy in local churches and in Hawkins High and sure maybe he didn’t deserve to die, but why wasn’t anyone talking about how he put fire under that ridiculous manhunt? To urge everyone to find Eddie and do who knows what to him?

Steadily approaching a year since Hawkins broke open, you’re scowling as you walk past that portrait of him in school. Having to repeat your senior year after the disaster threw everyone’s educational progress off the rails, you had to deal with that picture a lot. You turn your gaze elsewhere as you head to your last class of the day, and even that little glimpse of his image sparks up memories of his crazed state.

Jason had an inexhaustible vengeance, and refused to let anything—or anyone—get in his way. He had to find Eddie. He had to make him pay.

You didn’t know it at the time, but he had been hunting down Eddie’s closest friends and band mates to get information out of them. That’s how he found you.

“Where is he?” Jason shouted in Gareth’s face as he gripped him by the lapels of his cut up flannel.

“I don’t know!”

“Where is he!?”

“I don’t know!” Gareth insisted before Jason hit him again.

While a restrained Jeff shouted at him to leave his friend alone, Jason tossed him into his drums. A cymbal crashed while the set dispersed in different directions and Gareth was left lying on the floor of his garage.

“It’s gonna be hard to play those drums with a broken hand!” Jason rose his voice again, holding Gareth down by his back and crushed his hand between his sneaker and the concrete floor. There was an audible crunch as Gareth cried out in pain.

“Dustin!”

“What?”

“Dustin Henderson!”

“What?” Jason repeated, urging him to clarify.

“Dustin Henderson!” Gareth shouted again, face twisting in pain. “Man h-he was- he was calling around looking for Eddie! Maybe he found him! Maybe he found him!”

“See that wasn’t that hard, was it?” Jason taunted, but kept pressing his foot onto Gareth’s hand before finally stepping away.

“O-or y/n maybe, I don’t know.” Gareth cried out, cradling his hand that was pulsing with pain.

“Who?” Jason’s brow furrowed as he looked back at him.

Jeff spoke up for him, repeating your name in a panic.

“Y-yeah maybe. I don’t know, I haven’t seen her around him in a while, b-but I caught them fooling around in Eddie’s van once,” Jeff rambled on “And he was constantly messing with her. He… he might be with her. Or she might know.”

The more he thought about it, the more Jason remembered the occasional moment where he would see Eddie tossing things at you in class or pushing up against you in gym. Back in the car, Andy and Patrick chimed in with other things they witnessed. Eddie feeling you up. Eddie shoving you or knocking your books out of your hands. Eddie harassed you constantly. Maybe even being tutored by you (according to Andy). If you couldn’t join them through a mutual hatred for the metalhead, maybe you could at least be forced to give more information—especially if you had some fucked up relationship.

You were home alone despite your mother’s insistence to join her or your father at work. With two deaths and a possible killer still on the loose, she wasn’t wild about you being by yourself. You convinced her you could take care of yourself, especially with all the baseball bats and heavy golf clubs she kept around just in case.

Considering everything, you shouldn’t have opened the front door when someone rang, but you were so shocked to spot Jason Carver through your peephole to think about it. You weren’t impressed, even when he flashed you his best smile. You were just curious why he was here.

“Well, I’ll be quick. I’m sure you have better things to do.” he said with a soft laugh which you were sure he thought was charming. You just kept scowling.

“Yeah. I do,” you said bluntly and there was a flash of anger across his face for a moment before he filtered it through a weaker smile. “What do you want?”

“I just want to know if you have any idea where Eddie Munson is.”

You can’t help but scoff at this.

“No, and I really don’t care about where he could be.”

You’re about to close the door, but he was quick to speak up again and keep your attention.

“I heard you tutor him-“

“Not anymore. Too difficult.” You interrupted, and he faltered for a moment before continuing.

“I’m sure. I know how he treated you. It… it’s horrible really.” He spoke softly and you hesitated for a moment, hand still on the edge of your door.

But then you realized something.

If he knew, then where had he been? Why didn’t he do anything? Even if you didn’t want anyone to interfere—not really. Not to mention after he broke your heart and all ties were cut, Eddie surprisingly let up on the constant harassment. It wasn’t fun anymore. Soon enough he had been avoiding you in the halls as much as you had been avoiding him, but that didn’t mean everything before that never happened. If Jason really took notice of your interactions, where had he been?

“I could tell even then just from how he acted with you that he wasn’t a good person. He’s not a good person. He’s a killer, and he can’t be out here loose in Hawkins ready to claim another victim.”

You stare at him in silence. Your lack of response is clearly testing his patience and he’s parting his lips to speak up again, but you cut him off.

“Why now?”

“What?” Jason laughed this off casually.

“Why now are you suddenly so interested in how he used to treat me?”

“Oh, well I-”

“No,” you interrupted bluntly at your swift decision and with no room for fluff. No matter how much you hated Eddie. “I’m not here for your senseless propaganda. Thanks.”

You went to slam the door, but he kept it open. It touches on a memory of Eddie doing something similar once upon a time to get to you while you were all alone in your bedroom. The only difference is this isn’t Eddie, and Jason is really starting to scare you.

You glance over to see the concern on Lucas Sinclair’s face—you recognized him from the occasional interactions he had with Eddie and then from all the excitement of that recent basketball game he won for the high school team. He was behind Jason, a little off to the side and you spotted the car in the driveway with a few others inside. The fact that he had others with him didn’t exactly comfort you.

“I just want to know where that freak is, okay?” Jason clarified with a smile as if it covered the fact that he was clearly unstable. You could see it in his eyes.

“It’s dangerous with him out there. I’m just trying to help my community.”

“Whatever, Jason. Like I said: I’m not interested in any of this. I don’t talk to Eddie anymore. I don’t know where he fucked off to.”

“I know you’re screwing him. Just tell me where your creep boyfriend is.”

This sudden flash of anger and the contents of his accusation shocked you, but you didn’t let it force your guard down.

“I’m not with him like that. Like I said: I don’t fucking talk to him. I don’t know where he is.”

Jason still wasn’t budging, and you’re suddenly grateful for your mom’s incessant worrying when he took a step forward. You grabbed the metal bat your parents kept by the door right as he’s parting his lips to continue speaking.

“Get off my doorstep. Get away from me. Or I’m using this, Carver, I swear to god.”

This made him hold his hands up in defense and start to back off again, especially as Lucas murmured a swift “C’mon, man, maybe we should just leave her alone.” A sad excuse for a kind smile curved up the corners of the blond’s mouth. It made you sick.

“Just trying to take care of my community. No need to get violent… I’m one of the good guys. If you’re sure you don’t know anything—I’ll leave you be.”

“Well I don’t. How many times do I have to say it?” You snap, gripping the handle of the bat a bit tighter.

He finally started to walk off with an okay okay, but then he turned to look at you one more time.

“Be smart about which side you’re choosing.”

At that, you slammed your front door and locked it. One of the good guys, you think with a scoff. Yeah, sure.

Currently on your walk home, your mind is still swirling with memories of last year. You understood the need to commemorate and show respect, but the constant reminders didn’t help to move on. You hated being here. You couldn’t wait to graduate and move as far away as possible. You wanted to forget about Hawkins. You wanted to forget about Eddie Munson. You wanted to forget how close the world had been to ending.

You happen to glance up as you walk towards your house when your steps become hesitant at the sight of someone sitting on your doorstep. It was no jock ready to berate you. It certainly wasn’t Eddie.

It was none other than Nancy Wheeler.

Eddie was miserable.

Actually, it was beyond just misery. He couldn’t even think of a word to describe everything he had been through and everything he was actively going through—whether that was because he always failed vocab tests due to lazy disinterest or because such a word just didn’t exist. The whole experience took a lot out of him—quite literal chunks out of his body, not just emotionally.

Besides those who had become closest to him, once everyone was focused on the next suspect no one bothered to check back in with him. No one apologized for literally hunting him down with plans of… god, he didn’t even want to think about what they would’ve done if they caught him.

After being resuscitated, he had to be holed up in some secure room of a nearby hospital while he recovered since Hawkins Memorial Hospital was too risky for him. As the days in the hospital went by painfully and with more and more news on Hawkins turning up on the small TV of his room, he wondered if karma was a real thing. He narrowly escaped death and an arrest for a murder he didn’t commit (really the only thing saving his ass coming from the insistence of his uncle and Chief Hopper when he randomly appeared back in Hawkins). It certainly made a guy think about what he’s done.

In fact, all the isolation gave him far too much time to think. Watching the news; constantly pressing the morphine button even though he knew it wouldn’t give him more; falling into pits of depression where sometimes he wished they never brought him back—those thoughts of karma came up. He would eventually brush them off as hippie garbage, but memories of you were sounding off like an alarm in his head. It wasn’t hippie garbage. The concept held some real truth to it, and he knew he deserved everything that happened after he had been so cruel to you because of some stupid, childish need for distance from any sort of vulnerability.

After realizing that, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He was stuck in Hell on earth with aching wounds he wished would heal faster and memories of a girl he should’ve treated better. He regretted how things ended, and wondered what it would be like right now if he hadn’t ended things with such brutal carelessness. You’d probably be right by his side and making it easier to get through. And when he thought about how much better it would be to heal with you here, something ached deep inside him that even morphine couldn’t touch. He missed something he never let himself have, and certainly didn’t deserve by this point. He knew what kinds of things mattered now, and it didn’t even make a difference because as much as it changed things for him that didn’t mean it changed things for you.

Then one night, it dawned on him that you might not even be alive.

He was sweating from all the pain and the drugs and the heat of mid September of ‘86, when it occurred to him that you could be gone. Having already established a constant pattern of thoughts that revolved around you, it wasn’t surprising that he was up at 2 AM with you on his mind but that intrusion to his pleasant memories or self-loathing put him into a panic. You could be dead quickly turned into you are dead, and he couldn’t handle it. How could he deserve to live, but you didn’t? Maybe because you deserved mercy and he didn’t. Either way, he ignored his crying nerves and scrambled for the walky talky on his bedside table.

He tried just about every channel he was allowed to use, but no one was picking up. Maybe they were sleeping, but he knew he wasn’t the only one in the group suffering from insomnia after everything that happened. Still, he wasn’t granted the peace of a response and he had to lay there just hoping for a chance to make things better—and worry that he wouldn’t get to.

The group that helped him through that horrific Spring break came to visit him when they were able to. It was typically at random, with the occasional stop at his request for certain food or begging for a distraction before he went insane. Lucas was the first one to answer when he tried the radio again early that morning, and he soothed Eddie’s anxiety with the promise of stopping by.

With Max in the hospital and still no signs of coming back, Lucas had his own need for a distraction. He trudged into the dull room Eddie was stuck in, and settled into the chair kept by the bed.

“Is she alive?”

Lucas blinked, wondering if maybe he missed something in his own fog of exhaustion and despair. Really it was because Eddie blurted out in mid-thought without the courtesy of some background, but he still grew frustrated with him. His face bunched up as he briefly bared his teeth in that split second of muted rage. One of his hands made a fist before he unfurled it to rub at his face and shake his head.

“Y/n. Y/n, Sinclair—jesus christ—is she alive?”

Lucas parted his lips and then closed them again, tired eyes staring over at the metalhead as he tried to get his mind to cooperate. Eddie nearly cracked over the hesitation, taking it as a sign that Lucas was struggling to tell him that you were gone rather than trying to remember who you were and if he had seen you around.

“Yeah. Y-Yeah,” he finally murmured and a heavy sigh exhaled from Eddie’s lungs. “I’ve seen her around school. She’s alive.”

“Jesus chr—she’s okay?” Eddie was rubbing his palms over his face again, bangs partially sticking up when he pulled his hands away to gesture with energy he didn’t have to spend.

“Yeah, man, she’s okay. I think—I-I don’t really talk to her, but she isn’t injured.”

Eddie sat with that for a moment, relieved that you were alive and at least fine physically, but his eyes were still sad. Lucas joined him in this bubble of misery, the silence tugging him back to thoughts of Max until Eddie finally popped the bubble again.

“Did… did she join everyone? Y’know in the Great Hunt for the Freak?” he let out a partial laugh, but it was hollow.

“No, she didn’t buy it.” Lucas shrugged and leaned forward to rest his forearms on his thighs.

His eye stung for a moment, watered and then returned to normal. After that fight in the old Creel house, his eye was never truly the same. It healed enough that it wasn’t swollen and bruised, but it was still sensitive and it watered more often. Whenever it did, it made him think of that night and he felt as if he was being punched all over again. It made him think of Max. It made him think of Jason.

Although with the topic on you, remembering Jason made him laugh a little—a soft, amused chuckle breaking through his sorrow.

“Jason actually went to her house. I… I was still with him at that point,” Lucas flicked his gaze up at Eddie with guilt before looking back down. “He wanted to interrogate her about you. See if you were hiding with her or if she hated you enough to join him.”

Eddie swallowed, brows frowning as he waited for him to continue.

“She uh… she threatened him with a baseball bat.” Lucas laughed a bit more wholeheartedly this time.

Eddie’s head sunk back a bit in surprise, big doe eyes even wider and brows raised in disbelief. He said your first name to clarify and even though Lucas nodded, he said your full name with that same questioning tone.

“She threatened Jason Carver with a baseball bat?”

You were meek if nothing else, and as Eddie knew you—you were easy to break. Easy to bend and mold so he never considered the possibility that you were strong. That you could take care of yourself, and you weren’t as weak as you looked. But maybe it was fitting. You appeared delicate and fragile, but were tougher than you looked. Whereas he had that rough n tough, bad boy act just for it to fall apart when he found himself scrambling away from danger. He just hoped he wasn’t the reason you were surprisingly resilient—that maybe it was always there and he just never noticed.

“Yeah. He wouldn’t back off and she said she’d do it if he didn’t leave,” Lucas snickered a bit before his mood was sobered by the other side of this memory. “She uh… she was scared. He was scaring her, and I don’t blame her. He was scaring all of us…”

He was focused on his hands now, toying with them anxiously and he could hear the sigh of Eddie’s puffy hospital pillow as he settled back against it. He was letting it all sink in, and for a moment he wished he was the one to kill Carver instead of the cracking earth. You didn’t deserve the way he treated you, and you didn’t deserve Jason’s intimidation tactics just because you had been caught up with the likes of him.

He hated that you had been scared, he hated that it was his fault, and he hated how much worse he felt now that he knew that you stood up for him even after everything he put you through. Maybe not so much stood up for him, but you didn’t let yourself get dragged into the accusations and mob mentality even if you had every reason to.

This hurt worse somehow, and he was bound to a new bout of pain and suffering.

“I just miss her, I guess…” Eddie admitted to his uncle once the topic turned to you. He felt the urge to repent and voice how badly he wished you were with him right now, and his uncle was the only one he felt safe admitting all of this to.

“The girl that you were spending time with at home?” His uncle’s gruff voice wondered, and Eddie was taken aback by the question.

All he said was there was a girl he had a thing with, which he messed up royally, and he wished he could have another chance. Nothing else, so he looked like a fish out of water now and his uncle chuckled at his reaction.

“I may not be the smartest man around, but I’m not stupid,” he grumbled out, sat in the same chair Lucas had been. “I was aware of your uh… activities.”

Wayne scratched at his stubble, embarrassed to acknowledge just exactly what his adult nephew had been up to—just as mortified as Eddie was over having to discuss sex with his uncle.

“I found her panty things stuck to the inside of the dryer,” Wayne explained further. “And I ran into her one morning when I had just come home from the plant.”

You had been leaving Eddie’s room to use the bathroom early in the morning, not realizing he would be home from a shift. You hoped that with how tired he looked that he would think it was all a weird dream or maybe that he was seeing things. After all, you were back in that room in a flash. Fast enough to be a fleeting ghost, but he saw you and he clearly remembered you. Eddie was grumbling something to himself now about you being careless enough to get him caught, but Wayne was quick to shut this down. He wasn’t known to raise his voice, and he still really didn’t, but his tone was harsher now.

“No—don’t you go blaming that girl cause you insisted on keeping her a secret. Christ, boy—you know, I thought I taught you better.”

Of all the things he could say, this was the worst. I thought I taught you better. Eddie wished he could shrink down to nothing, and he looked down at his hands in shame.

“You should’ve treated her better. That’s on you.”

“Yeah…” Eddie laughed out bitterly “You have no idea…”

Eddie sighed now, hiding his face behind his palms.

“I’m so fucking stupid. I don’t know how I thought that kind of shit was important,” He rips his hands away to jerk them outwards in an exasperated gesture and looks over at this uncle. “It was fun a-and then it was too serious and I just— I— and now I don’t know why I was thinking like that.”

“Well,” his uncle started after a pause to think it over. “you may have been a grown man in the eyes of the law, but that doesn’t mean you were thinking like one. You’re still young. I…I’d like to think you would’ve learned these kinds of thing at a regular pace as you grew up, but—shit—between your parents and especially after all this-”

Wayne gestured out into the air with little energy to his casual motion.

“You’re forced into adulthood. That’s what shit like this does…”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Eddie finally admits in a rush after a moment of considering his uncles words. He was sure they had some truth to them, but he thought maybe his uncle was giving him too much credit. “I really cared for her— I still really care for her. I was just… I was being-“

“Stupid? Childish?”

“Yeah, yeah okay- geez,” Eddie sighs and looks down at his hands to pick at his nails. “Yeah… all of that…”

“Well… maybe if she really means that much to ya, then be honest. Try again. Really put some elbow grease into it, and maybe—if you’re lucky—she’ll forgive you.”

Eddie scoffs out a miserable laugh and gestures around him in a way that’s far more animated than when his uncle did it.

“Yeah. Cause I’m clearly so lucky.”

What made all of this worse was the fact that he couldn’t even reach out for months.

Being hidden away didn’t only mean a different hospital picked out by Hopper. It also meant no calls, no letters—nothing. He couldn’t risk being found by anyone who was still convinced he was guilty. Eddie insisted it calmed down enough to come back and he had healed enough for it, but Hopper was hesitant and ultimately unyielding.

“It’s bullshit. You guys even said no one mentions me anymore, and it’s not like I’m a suspect.” Eddie ranted to Nancy during her visit, Steve somewhere else in the hospital looking for food.

“I know, but you’ll still stand out right now,” she reasoned. “If you come back, it could stir something up again.”

“What, so I never go back? I have to uproot my whole shitty life because of rumors?”

“Eddie-“ she sighed.

“No, it’s shit. It’s all shit. If I have to stay one more second in this shitty fucking room, I’m gonna start climbing the walls,” he ranted with wild eyes. “I need to leave. I need to live my crappy life. I… I need to see y/n again.”

At that, Nancy perked up. It wasn’t out of excitement, but rather something blowing through her sideways at your name. Familiarity burned at her before it all went up in flames, and she was overwhelmed with memories and guilt.

“Oh my god… y/n…” She murmured to herself with an upsetting sense of nostalgia.

She completely forgot about you in the mess of everything. At first she had been trying to keep you from learning anything that could put you in danger—doing her best to keep it between her and Jonathan. She had already lost Barb because of her own selfish carelessness, she couldn’t let something happen to you too. Then it was all a whirlwind from there and you were suddenly caught up in a past that she forgot existed. A past where a shoebox was just a shoebox.

Her eyes grow sad, her mind filling with thoughts of how she could’ve ever possibly left you in the dust. Sure, you were a newfound friend in high school—whereas her and Barb had been friends for years by that point—but that was no excuse for letting leaving you out of the loop turn into completely leaving you behind.

She’s so caught up in her own regrets that she forgets about Eddie until he’s speaking up again and waving his hand in front of her face.

“Uhh, Wheeler? Hello?”

“Oh- uh… yeah, yes.” She shakes her head, her curly hair shuffling around with the motion, her brow frowning and her lips taut. “Yes. Yes, I know her. You know her?”

“Well uh…” he lets out a nervous laugh, suddenly fearful of the rage of an old friend. “We sorta… we had a thing going…”

He risked a glance over at her, and her expression was anything but sparing. She clearly wasn’t happy with how guilty he sounded, but who was she? She abandoned you for all intents and purposes, even if she didn’t mean to. And if she had been blind enough to never notice what went on between you and Eddie, she had no right to chastise him for it even if she did have the familiar urge to get up on her high horse.

“But uh… I kinda screwed everything up,” he muttered and was back to picking at his fingers while he stared down at them. “Like you wouldn’t believe. And I just… shit, I’m so sick of this place and waiting around.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie, but you can’t go back to Hawkins yet.”

“Yeah, I think I got that,” he snaps bitterly before cooling down again. “I just… I need to talk to her or something. If she could be brought here, or if I could meet her somewhere else. I need to fix things.”

After constant complaining and threats of breaking out of the hospital, Nancy eventually found a compromise to get him to shut up.

Steve came back around the time he had started rattling on again about how he was going to go crazy. Utterly confused as always, he was off to the side and watched as Nance did her best to calm Eddie down again. He occasionally broke through all the noise with his questions, only to get a searing glare from Nancy. At some point, he finally caught on (kinda) and only made things worse.

“Munson has a crush,” he finally said with a snap of his fingers and points at them. “That’s cute. Embarrassing, but cute.”

“I don’t have a crush, you idi-”

“Will you please stop?” Nancy hissed over at him, expression begging for him to keep out of it.

“Why am I even here?” Steve wondered out loud with a sigh and kept eating his suspicious hospital jello.

“Cause I can’t leave this fucking place!” Eddie reiterated, making Nancy groan over Steve agitating the problem that she was just barely starting to settle.

“I’ll- I’ll give her a letter!” she finally offered, cutting Eddie off mid-complaint. Her arms shot up with the raise of her voice, laughing with exasperation. “Just write down what you want to say, and I’ll give it to her!”

“What are you doing here?”

It came out harsher than you intended and even you wanted to flinch at your own words, but maybe it was justified. She completed cast you aside you when you lost a friend. You both lost a friend, and it seemed to make her hate you. Or at least that’s how it felt. Why else would she have avoided you? Why else would she have stopped talking to you?

“I guess I deserve that.” Nancy replied with a soft huff of a laugh, and a sheepish smile.

More news seemed to be coming up little by little about Barb. Once upon a time you thought it all came to a close when it was revealed that she died from a chemical leak, but now there was talk of things that a chemical leak would wilt in comparison to. Things that went on in your own home town that you can’t even imagine going unseen by so many. Or maybe they all saw, but curled up into their comfortable ignorance to avoid it. You couldn’t judge them—you did too. You believed every story you got, even if—in hindsight—they were obvious cover ups every time someone started to demand for better explanations.

You eye her cautiously, hoping your eyes don’t show the sadness that came with such hesitancy around someone you used to know so well.

“I uhm…” Nancy shook her head the way she always did when she needed to clear her thoughts, brows furrowed and nose briefly scrunched up as she glanced at the ground. “I had to bring this to you…”

She was looking at you again, gauging your reaction as she extended her slim arm to offer you an envelope. You’re toying with it in your hands, wondering why there was no name on the back and if you should open it now.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

You look up at her now, but remain silent. What was there to say?

“I should’ve never left you behind like that... Trust me, I never meant to. I thought I was protecting you and I was, but…” Nancy’s pouty lips scrunch together for a moment. “It wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t…” you concur, but your heart aches from the look on her face.

Sure, she hurt you but maybe you should’ve been grateful. Even if you wished she would’ve been honest with you, you knew how stubborn Nancy could be when it came to protecting those close to her. Instead of shutting her out, you extend an olive branch.

“Barb would be rolling her eyes at us right now, huh?”

Nancy stutters over her own disbelieving laugh as she glances at you through her lashes.

“Yeah, she would be.” Her nose scrunches again, lips bunched up a second time as her gaze grows sentimental. “She’d be telling us to stop being so stupid.”

“‘You both get perfect grades, why don’t you use your brains outside of school?’” You quote before laughing and she joins in.

“Guess we can’t say she wasn’t honest. She was always pretty straightforward with her thoughts.”

“One of us had to be.”

Nancy nods, and then let’s out a sigh as she rubs her arm and starts to move out of your way.

“Well, I should probably let you get to that-“

“Yeah, this letter that isn’t suspicious at all.” You joke, holding up the blank envelope and she laughs lightly before ducking her head down.

Figuring you were parting ways now, you turn around and open your front door, just to turn around in your doorway when you heard her suddenly chirp out your name. She hesitates again, but then finds her words.

“I… now that things seem to be going back to normal… I… I’d love to try being friends again. Maybe have a girls night.”

A smile breaks out onto your face, and you watch her defenses slowly start to melt away and smooth out the stiffness in her body.

“I’d like that.”

“What did she say? How’d she react?” Eddie asked over the radio, barely even waiting for a second to pass before continuing. “Wheeler? Hello?”

“Can I have a moment to respond?” Nancy quipped back, the crackling of the station breaking up her voice but not enough that he couldn’t hear her frustration. Not that he cared right now.

“What’d she think?”

“I don’t know, Eddie,” she sighed. “She didn’t open your letter in front of me.”

“Shit…” Eddie mutters, chewing at his thumbnail. He wanted—maybe even needed—the instant gratification that Nancy could’ve given him had she stuck around to watch you open the envelope.

Then again, maybe he was lucky.

“It— It’s whatever. I just hope it makes a difference.”

“What…what did you say to her in the letter?” Nancy asked now before shifting her focus quickly. “What did you even do in the first place?”

“Uhh, well let’s see,” Eddie looked up at the ceiling from where he was sat on the edge of his bed as his leg started to bounce. “I was a dick. Yeah… yeah, that about sums it up.”

“Don’t make me regret doing this for you, Eddie.” Nancy sighed and turned down the volume to her walky talky.

“I’m sorry, and I mean it. I’m capable given the right circumstances, remember?” the writing said, then there were a few words that had been crossed out and he followed those scratches of ink with a winky face, concluding with: “Leave that window unlocked, kay? I’ll be back for that necklace so keep it safe.”

Was the world falling apart all over again? Did you actually die and you didn’t even realize it? Everything seemed so unexpected and oddly… nice? Reassuring? Like Nancy showing up and apologizing. Or this letter you had open on top of your bedding.

It was part of a full sheet of paper, likely the bottom third of a page torn off. The handwriting and the comments throughout were enough to immediately make you think of who wrote this—even if he didn’t sign it. But what really confirmed it was the necklace with the red guitar pick hanging on it. You’re infuriated with the involuntary flush reaching your cheeks as memories rush in. All the times he was on top of you, that necklace hanging down and resting on your chest or nudging your chin and lips.

“God, you’re such a good girl for me.” you remember him groaning that one time he watched you sucking on the guitar pick, big eyes staring up at him while he fucked into you.

You had been folded into yourself on his mattress, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from each and every thrust that fed your greed for him but was inevitably making your body ache.

The pick that was now resting in your palm was suddenly just a thin slab of plastic. The more you thought about it, that’s pretty much all it tasted like it, but you remembered the saltiness of his sweat too. What made it so special in the first place was knowing it was his. It was such an integral part of him—it laid close to his heart where you wished to be, and it was cherished by him which you wished for yourself once too. That moment in his small bedroom when you let it slip past your lips, you hadn’t been sure how he’d react, and to be completely honest you were too fucked out to think at all. But he didn’t pull it away from you, he sunk into you with that shuddering praise instead.

The memory of his words was enough to raise your body temperature, but you fought off that familiar instinct to melt just for him. He’s an asshole. A cruel heartbreaker. He’s selfish. He’s mean. He’s smug. He ruined love for you.

Your stomach bends and curls enough to make you nauseous as the butterflies kick in—then why do I still want him so badly? You were so desperate to take every single ounce of attention—good or bad—that he gave you. Hadn’t you learned your lesson? Hadn’t you been practicing your borderline religious hatred for him enough for it to be real?

You’re not sure if it’s anger towards him or yourself for slipping so easily, but your blood is starting to boil. You remind yourself of all those games he used to play with you and the sentiment of him being a heartless, sadistic fuck plays on repeat in your head so that no softer thoughts can break through. Surely he was toying with you. This was a test of some kind, probably because he got bored and wanted to brush you off like some forgotten toy he wanted to use again.

You needed to prove to yourself that you can shoot him down. Stare into those gorgeous doe eyes and tell him to go fuck himself. Look up at him when he’s giving you that beautiful half-smile and moving his hands to hold your hips, and tell him to never talk to you again.

You needed to show him how it felt to be treated the way he treated you. Maybe it was childish, but some twisted part of you felt relieved at the thought of it. He deserved to have his hopes shattered when he thinks he’s getting what he wants, just to be shut out. He deserved to be humiliated. He deserved to be broken down so thoroughly just like you had been. To be broken down into such a fine dust that even when you were sure everything had been swept back together again, there were always going to be those missing bits and pieces that fell through the cracks or blew away.

As you’re toying with the necklace in your hands, you can’t help but think you’re being too immature. What about last year? Everything that happened to him? Maybe he’s been put through enough? Your brow frowns, and you’re internally cursing yourself for being so horribly incapable of making a decision.

Your hand shot up to cover your frustrated expression, a groan leaving your lips. You wanted to let yourself hate him so badly, but you wanted to feel loved by him so much it hurt.

You think it over for the rest of the night, laying in bed with your hands still clutching that necklace. You’re up for hours, only falling asleep when your body forces you into submission around 4 AM—nodding off and snapping back up just to nod off again. Your last thought is that you had to be strong—whatever that meant. You didn’t have to be mean, but you refused to cave and immediately let him have you in whatever way he wants.

He’s won far too many times, and now it’s your turn.

“If you get caught then I had nothing to do with this—got that, Munson?” Steve whispered as he glanced over at the metalhead, one arm still outstretched as he held onto the steering wheel.

Eddie was too busy taking in the sight of your house and breathing in the fresh night air. It never occurred to him before just how much he loved the smell of chill in the wind, like it might snow soon. Ever since last year he was realizing a lot of things he never knew he loved, and he felt both relieved and crushed by the knowledge. He was sure he knew himself before everything happened. He liked fantasy games, music, and indulging in that metal rockstar lifestyle even if it was just another fantasy he was playing into. He liked having all eyes on him as he made a scene in the lunchroom. He liked being the local anarchistic leader of fellow freaks, and ignoring any other responsibilities. He liked girls he could use like he was some big shot backstage after a show.

He thought everything was about prepping himself for that kind of life. He was comfortable being the asshole who never pulled his weight anymore than he had to if he wasn’t interested enough. He was comfortable being a runner because then he could continue living the way he was used to without anything to come in and hold him back, until his whole life fell apart. Then he was afraid for his life. Then he was afraid for that kid’s life—all of their lives, actually, not just Dustin’s. Then he was suddenly the person charging into danger to give someone else a chance.

And now he was alone. He still had his new group, but they could continue their lives while he was kept hidden away and all he had to do was think about everything he never realized he would miss. Something as simple as recognizing a familiar comfort in the smell of a soft breeze felt heart wrenching. Or laying in a hospital bed wishing he still had that one girl to love him made him horribly aware of how empty he’s always been.

“Hello?” Steve urged with an impatient tone.

Eddie glanced over at him and despite his frustration at the lack of response, Steve felt taken aback by the sight of him. Something about finally seeing him back out of the hospital made him realize just how miserable Eddie really was. Maybe it was because sadness made sense in a hospital, or maybe it was the way the moonlight hit his features the right way and he could see the deeper shadows of his face and his sullen eyes.

“Just… be quick alright? And I was never here.”

“Yeah, Hopper’ll have your head.” Eddie snickered quietly.

“I’m less concerned about Hopper…” Steve muttered as thoughts of a certain young woman being upset with him flashed through his head.

“Women, am I right?” Eddie asked playfully in a mocking manner to anyone who ever seriously shared that sentiment, leaning his body towards Steve before laughing as the brunet nudged him back.

“Will you just go?” Steve laughed it off, shaking his head and watched him finally clamber out of the car.

Eddie snuck to the side of the house where he could spot your window. It had been a solid couple of weeks since Nancy brought his letter to you, and he just wished you would let him back in. He huffed before forcing himself up to make his way towards the window, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his lips in concentration. He was understandably weaker since the last time he was doing this on a weekly basis, but he pushed through and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration when it wouldn’t open. You kept it locked.

Your whole body tensed at the sound of someone rapping on your window, hand clutching your blanket. It had been long enough that you thought he was never going to come and retrieve his necklace, and you were irritated with your own disappointment. Now you were struggling with the sudden surge of excitement lighting up your nerves, which was making a sour combination with all that built up anger towards him.

When you finally forced yourself to look over your shoulder, you weren’t expecting how badly you wanted to cry. You wanted to let him in and just kiss him. Kiss him until you could pass out from the lack of oxygen. Hold him to you and refuse to let him leave. He wasn’t allowed to make a visit like this and leave you again—physically or emotionally. You couldn’t handle it, and you were surprised at how all these feelings presented themselves.

“What is your problem?” Is the first thing to leave your lips when he’s climbing into your room, and you might’ve been more surprised by your words than he was.

“W… what?” he laughs off your question, shocked by you starting the interaction this way; although realistically he shouldn’t have been.

“Why are you here?”

“Well I…” he rubbed his arm once he was back to his full height, scratching a bit at his elbow. “I wanted to apologize-”

“Why does it matter to you now?” you interrupt, your anger surprisingly not faltering even when his big eyes flit up to look at you sadly like a dejected puppy. You felt so broken when you finally saw him again, you didn’t know where this was coming from. Why—when you wanted him back so badly—you were being so… mean.

“What? Did you develop a conscience all of a sudden? Get hunted for months and suddenly have an opportunity to stop and think ‘hm it really sucks to be treated like garbage, gee I wonder if this is how I made her feel’”?”

Eddie’s expression hardens for a moment, and it’s more familiar to you than any bit of softness he was showing you.

“Y’know, I wasn’t exactly treated all that great in school either. I can assure you, I already knew what it’s like to be treated like shit.”

“Oh so that excuses it then.”

“I-” Eddie huffs, letting out an incredulous laugh before trying again. “That’s not what I said. Shit— I just… I’m sorry, okay? I’m not trying to make any excuses. I should’ve been better to you.”

You stay silent for a moment, arms crossed as you watch how honest he looks when he’s all soft like this—with those puppy eyes hopeful and glossy.

“Why did you do it? If you really cared all this time why were you so hell bent on hurting me so thoroughly?”

“I never wanted to hurt you…” he mutters as he looks at the floor, glancing up when you scoff out a disbelieving laugh of your own. For once this kind of attitude doesn’t fuel his fire, but tamps it down. He felt awful, and what made it worse is he couldn’t blame you if you didn’t believe it.

“I… I thought you were cute before. Just in passing, y’know, cause you were still an underclassmen back then, but…” he glances down at his shoes. “I overheard you with your friends talking about me, and when the possibility of me liking you came up you jus’ laughed about it. Like taking an interest in me was that bad.”

His brow furrows at the memory, and just when you’re about to respond he continues to explain himself the best he can.

“I just… I don’t know, alright? It was stupid but it made me feel like shit. Like as if you would ever give me the time of day. And then it was like you were obsessed with me, and I just…”

“Wanted to make me hurt?” you question and he glances up at you briefly before nodding.

There’s a beat of silence, and he’s hopeful this is you letting everything sink in and understand where he was coming from. That you’d see his sincerity, and take him back because fuck he couldn’t stand being alone again.

“You took my heart and ripped it into shreds because of that?” you finally ask, tone sharp enough to make him cringe. “Because of something I said as a nervous sophomore who couldn’t fathom being liked? Or being seen as interesting? That’s what this is all from?”

“Well- I- but you liked the teasing-” Eddie attempted, and immediately regretted when he saw the fire in your eyes.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it!”

“I… you… you do it too! Sometimes we overreact! It happens!” Eddie finally snapped back, but tried to keep his frustration within a whisper the same way you were. “Sometimes you overhear a conversation and you make the wrong conclusion! Sometimes you don’t get kissed and you get upset! Sometimes you try to sell a girl drugs and end up on the wrong fucking side of hell opening up! Shit happens in fucked up ways! Things get messed up! I’m trying to fix how I messed up!”

He’s visibly distraught, and even though he knew this wouldn’t be easy, deep down he wished you’d melt into him like always.

“You don’t get to pull that with me, Eddie. I’m sorry about what happened last year. I really, truly am because you don’t deserve it—no matter how much I hate your fucking guts. But you don’t get to use it to distract me with it.”

“I’m not—fuck— I’m not trying to distract you with it! I’m just saying things get mixed up because of assumptions n shit like that. And I’m… I’m sorry I…” he trails off, letting out panting breaths. “You… do you really hate me?”

You hesitate, that broken look on his face almost getting to you, but you’re so sure you know better. You know how he can manipulate things.

“Yeah, Eddie. I hate you.”

He’s surprisingly quiet as he looks at you, an unfamiliar glittering to his eyes.

“And by the way, there’s a huge difference between you spending years hell bent on my misery and leaving me beyond devastated; and me giving you the silent treatment after you fucked me in the middle of the night and didn’t stick around or kiss me or make me actually feel cared for in any way.”

Eddie murmured your name, taking a step forward in a quiet plead for forgiveness. Mercy. Anything but this.

“No. I’m talking right now. Not you. So shut up and listen for once,” you choked out as tears filled your eyes, which felt oddly dissonant to your anger.

“I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. And I don’t want you back in my life,” You listed off with an attitude that surprised him, even if he deserved it. “I’m sorry that Hawkins has ruined your life, but that doesn’t mean you get me back just cause all of this has given you a fucking backbone and a conscience.”

Eddie’s lips part and then close again, feeling like a fish out of water. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to do with that aching in parts of his body he didn’t even know could ache.

“Doll, please… I really…” he breathes in deep enough that it turns shaky and burns deep in his chest. “I need a chance. I need a chance to show you I mean it. That I did love you back. That I still love you. That I can make it all up to you.”

You dig your nails into your crossed arms, looking away. You know if you keep looking into those big brown eyes that look so desperate right now that you just might cave.

“Well… I don’t love you anymore. So don’t call me doll, and just leave me alone.”

Eddie rubs his hands over his face, reaching back to temporarily grip his hair to use up some of that rage on himself before he lets go again.

“What do I have to do? What do I have to do to get even one chance? Just one, that’s all I’m asking. It’s all I need cause I swear I won’t hurt you ever again,” Eddie pleads and he’s shocked by his own words, but he doesn’t regret them for even a second. “I-I’ll check in more on how you’re feeling. I’ll ask if there’s anything I can do better. I’ll meet your fucking parents. I’ll be gross and romantic and honest. Please. Just give me one last chance, and I won’t take it lightly. Just don’t lie to me if you still love me. Trust me, I know what’s it’s like to be scared shitless about letting someone in so you’d rather just lie. It’s not worth it.”

He notices that last remark sparks up your frustration and he clarifies speedily.

“And I know that me being like that is the reason you’re hesitant to let me in now. I know that’s my fault, I just… shit, I need another chance.”

The fact that he was so insistent and willing to grovel gave you some comfort, but you’ve learned to not get your hopes up. You stick to your guns, but not as confidently as before. And Eddie sees that.

“Please just leave…” you murmur, even if it’s burning away at you to insist that he go.

He groans, rubbing at his face again but goes to straddle your windowsill anyway.

“I really do care about you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

You started chewing at the skin around your thumbnail—a nasty stress-related habit you picked up from someone. You didn’t respond, just waited for him to actually go. You were too busy fighting your urge to crumble at his words that actually felt so sincere.

“I’m glad you’re alive.” You finally offer in a voice so soft you might as well have never spoken up, but it’s enough to ease some of that aching he felt.

“I’m glad you’re alive, too… I was worried you wouldn’t be. Bugged the shit out of Sinclair so he’d let me know.” he admitted with a soft laugh.

“You asked about me…?”

“Yeah… you’re all I’ve been thinking about.”

You bite your lip, swallowing when you realized just how tight your throat felt. You’re unsure of how to respond without giving into him, until you catch a glimpse of his necklace on your bedside table.

“Oh uhm… you came here to get this back.” you murmur, padding over to the nightstand to grab it and bring it over to him. Eddie stares at the pick in your palm before looking at you with sad amusement.

“The necklace wasn’t really what I was interested in coming back for…” he admits with a soft chuckle, eyeing you as his smile falters. “Keep it.”

“But it’s your-”

“Keep it. Please.”

The moment is bittersweet, and you’re thinking about what it would be like if you really gave him a chance to prove he’s being honest with you tonight, but you’re too fearful to take that chance. You do hold onto the necklace though.

“Good night, Eddie.”

taglist: @mynameismothra @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @elvendria @psychospore @daisyridleyyyy @sidthedollface2 @kelsiegrin @swiss-cheeze @darknesseddiem @magnificantmermaid @hazydespair @bonehead-playz @stephanie-nicks76 @madaboutjoe @homiesexual-or-homosexual @neobanguniverse @prestinalove @galaxyfxcs @canyonmooncreations @hereforshmut @ediewentmissing @sadest-bookshelf @harlowsgirl @damon-loves-pie @stardustmunson @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @bitchyseawitch @littlered0000

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #as if eddie munson #bully!eddie munson #mean!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #as if angst #as if part 4 #as if eddiessluttywaist #eddie munson x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson angst

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katy-l-wood · 3 months

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"Everyone" is self-diagnosing on the spectrum, please get tested or don't claim to be on the spectrum. Personally, everyone I know who has self-diagnosed and then been tested has failed the tests and been like "I guess I just had anxiety and stuff".

Basically, dunning kruger syndrome. People who think "Oh, I'm weird, and awkward, and have social anxiety, I must be autistic or on the spectrum."

No, you likely just coincidentally have those traits.

Medical testing will tell you if you have those traits in such a degree that it effects your entire life to the level of autism.

Most people do NOT meet this criteria, and they're just trying to join a group of people and fit in. That's fine, but it's also insulting to those who struggled beyond their understanding.

There's a difference between struggling in school and suffering with everything in school and having an absolute nightmare of which the only emotional response at that age is to cry every night and wish you were dead.

The difference between being socially weird and being so different that there's a target on your back and even the most mild of kids turns into a bully around you because it's so easy.

To need decades of therapy just from how people have treated you, THAT is closer to autism than "I have adhd and I like cats."

I am not saying that is the only kind of autism or only experience, I am using it as an example. There are, of course, those who went under the radar and absolutely have autism in adulthood. But to be aware of the massive and documented problem of self-diagnosis and over-diagnosing autism, is not to gatekeep it.

I'm assuming this is because of my post about my character Conifer?

Look. How about you don't assume shit about when:

A) You don't fucking know me or anything about my life.

And B) That post is about a CHARACTER. A character you also know nothing about because the book isn't even out yet.

The rest of this I'm not going to bother to address. My personal business is not yours. If you disagree with my stance on self-diagnosis (which, for the record, is 100% in favor), the unfollow and block buttons are right there.

I'm sorry you went through such a horrible experience with being autistic. That truly, truly sucks. But you do not get to lash out at strangers on the internet just because their experiences don't perfectly mesh with yours.

#Rude Anon

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our-arospec-experience · 1 month

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Do you know that post from a queer person who grew up with queer parents and who said they can't really relate to many of the "typical queer experiences" because of it? Like the fear of coming out to your parents (even the idea of having to come out to them at all), growing up not knowing queerness is an option bc you never see queer people, feeling like there's something "wrong" with you?

I feel similarly about being aro. I never had to wonder whether what I was feeling was romantic attraction or not (bc I used to be alloro, so I could tell the difference when I became greyro and then aro), I never thought there was anything wrong with me for be(com)ing aro (bc I knew aromantics existed before I became aro), my personal "pan to aro pipeline" was literally just going from legitimately being panromantic to being aro, etc. I wasn't confused, I didn't think ppl were lying about experiencing romantic attraction (though I did think affective empathy was made up as a kid, but that's a different story), I only thought I might be a late bloomer bc I actually was, a little (not even significantly late, just a bit later than my classmates), etc.

I've seen people genuinely say self-loathing and thinking you're broken are "aro culture" (Youtube comment section my beloathed) and it makes me want to simultaneously shake some of my fellow aros and wrap them in a soft warm blanket bc that's bullshit and they deserve better, but they're also spreading the idea that it's normal and expected to have that kind of internalized arophobia and they gotta stop. It's not okay to define ourselves through suffering! It may be common, but it's not an inherent part of the aromantic experience! Yes, we need spaces to talk about the arophobia we face, including internalized arophobia, but we can do that without acting like it's inevitable, bc we deserve better than that!

I know I'm lucky, but dammit, lucky should be the norm! None of us should ever be made to feel broken for our orientation or identity, whether aro or otherwise queer. Isn't that the whole point? Isn't that what we fight for?

(This ask got away from me, sorry)

it would be nice if “lucky” was the norm, and we need to remember that all arospec experiences are valid, nice or not. I hope the rest of the community has been accepting of you (comment sections are never a nice place to go)

everyone is valid, no matter their experience!

#our arospec experience #arospec #aromantic #aro #Tw arophobia

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sasori-anon · 4 days

Text

A much needed Post

Good evening everyone, I hope you're all having a good day.💜

Yes, I probably tagged you in this, dear stranger. Before you click off, I ask you to give me 5 minutes of your time. Just 5, then you can go about your day. But I would appreciate it, if you listened to what I have to say, because it means a lot to me and many...many others.

I'm posting today, because this topic has been on my heart lately and I wanted to share my thoughts with you. I'm sure you've already guessed that this is about the whole Kisame-anon chaos.

Before we begin, I want to get this out of the way: This post is coming from a genuine and loving place. My goal is not to point fingers, nor placing blame or justify anyone's actions, including my own. This post is about me, trying to understand the entire situation and providing my sentiments to it.

Act I: Why do I not just shut up?

Why do I get involved you might ask? It's not so much that I want to get involved. It's more that any anon who begins their journey here, gets inevitably sucked into it. We are faced with angry posts, confusing explanations and forced to choose who to believe and support. If you don't, you walk on eggshells filled with guilt and if you do, you're being blocked by the entire half of the disagreeing party.

This is not what I signed up for.

I come on to Tumblr to Roleplay and have fun. I've been having a splendid time here. You guys are making me so happy as of late, allowing me to play freely and giving me a space for all my creative ideas. And I want to continue doing so.

I want to be able to chat up anyone, without fearing that someone else will jump at my throat for it. That includes Kisame, Hidan, Orochimaru and many more of you wonderdul RPers.

Recently I have noticed that I've been blocked by several people and I can guess, what the reason is. And it saddens me because...I like you guys. We were talking and sharing fun experiences, only for me to discover that I am suddenly cut off from it. For no other reason than that I interact with a person they have a quarrel with. And that is just...not the solution. So what is the solution?

Act II: The Anon War in a nutshell

Now, from my understanding, there is a big rift between two groups.

1) Those who have received digital harassment in form of hate/rape/death threats (and believe Kisame-anon to be the culprit)

and

2) Those who defend Kisame against those claims, or, like me, don't just blindly hop onto a hate train they saw on the internet

Again, my goal with this post is not to be the divine judge over who is in the right here. It is, objectively, pretty much impossible from an outsider's standpoint. And additionally, I don't think either of you is necessarily to blame for your individual reactions.

I absolutely feel for you guys, Hidan-anon and your friends. I, too, would be seething if someone I love was harrassed in the way Hidan (and co) has been. I do not know the extent of the harrassment. But I believe you when you say, that you've suffered. And I am very sorry you have been through that.

I also feel for Hidans friends, who, (bless their hearts) really are trying to protect them from further harm. An absolutely understandable sentiment.

I do however, also really feel for Kisame, who, (bear with me here) is probably being framed. They have been faced with a lot of backlash from party 1, have tried to defend themselves to no avail, up to the point of having to retreat. And all that...for what?

Act III: The Point I'm trying to make

Do none of you realise, that you're being pinned against each other?

There is a person (or perhaps several) that has harrassed Hidan-anon with very vile threats and they are getting away with it. There is someone out there, that is having the time of their life, watching you scratch each others eyes out, causing pain and suffering for everyone involved, while they sit back and watch the show.

Kisame-anon has not sent you these messages. They have proof of it. Wether you believe them or not, is up to you, but...

Do you really want to keep hurling hate at a person, that is just as much a victim as you are? A person who, themselves, is a victim of sexual abuse and would never even think of the idea of sending someone rape threats?

Would you not rather work together to bring that (pardon my french) asshat to justice, that is playing sick games with the both of you?

And mind you, it's not just Kisame you're isolating. You're isolating their friends, who are doing the same as you: Protecting those they care about.

You're isolating kind strangers like me, who just want to roleplay without the drama, by blocking them by mere association.

And you're isolating oblivious newcomers, who might have the misfortune of stumbling over the "wrong" blog at the wrong time.

This is not okay guys.

And coercing others into doing the same (blocking by association) is further doing damage, because many people just want to stay away from the drama and thus do as you say without much thought. The whole thing is harmful in itself, but it's worse, because you're doing it to the wrong person.

Kisame has evidence that they're innocent. Kisame also has a quite solid theory who it is. Do you not want to at least have a look at it?

If you truly care about the safety and wellbeing of your friends, I strongly suggest you do. Because the actual predator is still out there.

I am glad that Hidan went to the police. I hope that they find who is behind all of this and that they get taken care of for good. Because like things stand now, you're about to drag an innocent person to the guillotine and letting the true perpetrator go. And you're dividing an entire RP fandom, that used to be a safe space.

I don't want this to happen.

Act IV: So...what now?

I want this post to be a wake up call. A wake up call for all those who are as confused, as I was and unsure what to do; but also, especially, to Hidan-anon and friends. Please, let us put down arms and find a solution.

I care about you. And I care about Kisame. And I love this little RP space we built and the friends I made here. I want us to stand together, acknowledge each other's suffering and grow as people. Let us talk things out.

I want this post to be a safe place for exchange. Feel free to add your thoughts and sentiments in the comments. Everything is welcome, as long as it is respectful and communicated calmly. I am more than happy to provide you with a neutral ground to talk things out. My DMs and Asks are always open for anyone who needs an ear or a shoulder.

We, as Naruto fans, more than anyone else, should know that hate creates nothing but more hate. So let us lead with compassion and patience. And listen to each other. Thank you for your attention.

#naruto rp #mod speaks

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ro-is-struggling · 2 years

Note

Hi!!!!!! How are you!!!!??? Today I found your blog and I really loved it 😍😍😍😍❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ can I request a Bucky x Fem!Reader oneshot?? This idea came to mind because of a dream 😂🙈

Bucky never liked the reader because she "worked" for HYDRA, making everyone hate her in turn, except for Tony, Sam and Clint. On a complicated mission, Bucky is mortally wounded and the Reader is blamed on the Quinjet, to which she decides to use her power, transferring her crush's wounds into her body in order to save him. Steve refuses to let her touch his friend but relents when she tells him her own story in HYDRA and how she was tortured, and asks for someone to keep her hands steady, no matter how much she asks for the pain and sensation to stop, because if she removed them both she and he could die. Bucky, waking up seconds after her powers worked out, sees the reader fall into Sam's arms and how he carries her in his arms to the medical wing once they arrive back at the tower and feels bad that he made her suffer like that when he learns that she was also an experiment like him.

Happy ending with lot of fluff?? Hahahahahaha

Thank you so much love 🙈❤️ lot of kisses from Argentina 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

hermana mira donde vengo a encontrar a otra argentina sjsjsj

I loved your request so much! sorry it took me so long to post it, I wanted to get it right bc it was a really interesting idea and I wanted to do it justice

Enemies || Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky don't get along. He hates you from the moment he found out you used to work for Hydra and has no problem showing it. Until one day after an accident on a mission he discovers the truth about your past and realizes that you two aren't so different after all.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, enemies to friends, Bucky and Steve are mean to the reader, mentions of past trauma (the reader was experimented on and tortured by Hydra kinda like Bucky), reader has powers that allow her to transfer people’s wounds on her own body and heal them using her own vital force, fluff (Bucky it’s a sweetheart in the end)

Word count: 5000+

English is not my first language

You knew your day was going to suck from the moment you heard Steve pair you up with Bucky to guard the west entrance to the Hydra base you were about to storm. You and Bucky didn't get along. In fact, you didn't get along with most of the Avengers. The other superheroes tended to keep a certain distance from you, whispering under their breath whenever they saw you passing through the halls of Avengers Tower. Being a former Hydra agent had that effect on people.

Usually that didn't bother you. They didn't know the whole story and you'd rather they didn't, so you put up with the rude treatment by taking refuge in the support of Tony, Sam and Clint. They were the only ones who knew your whole story and were responsible for you becoming part of the Avengers in the first place, so their support and friendship was the only thing that mattered to you. Having them around helped you endure the suspicious looks and whispers behind your back. At least for the most part that was the case, because when Steve and Bucky were involved there was nothing that could improve your mood.

There was something about the way they looked at you that made your blood boil. They hated you—especially Bucky— and they made no effort to hide it. They didn't want you on the Avengers and you were pretty sure the only reason Steve had accepted you was because Sam had insisted you were a good addition to the team. You honestly didn't blame them for not trusting you. They didn't know you and you didn't try very hard to please them either. You didn't need their friendship, you just wanted them to stop treating you with such contempt. Something that apparently was impossible.

"Stop staring at me." You muttered in annoyance as you walked into Hydra's base with your pistol in hand.

"I'm not staring at you." Bucky spoke behind your back, using that dismissive tone he always used with you.

"I can feel your eyes burning in the back of my neck, you're not that subtle" you replied rolling your eyes. "Just for once could you do your job without being fucking annoying?"

"I am doing my job."

"I mean the actual mission, not the side babysitting mission that Steve put you up to." You complained, turning to look at him. You had heard them talking after Steve announced the teams. The quinjet wasn't that big and Bucky wasn't as quiet as he thought he was when he was upset. He had complained to his friend about putting them together and Steve explained that he wanted him to keep an eye on you. Since then you hadn't stopped feeling Bucky's eyes on your figure. "I know you don't trust me and you think I'm going to betray you or something but I'm not. I don't know how much information about Hydra I have to give you to make you understand that I'm on your side."

"Yeah, we'll see about that." Bucky whispered, pushing past you without even looking at you.

"Unbelievable" you grumbled under your breath, rolling your eyes.

You walked behind him in silence for the rest of the time, concentrating on the mission you had to complete. Steve had sent you to secure the perimeter of the west side of the Hydra base. You had to eliminate all the guards without alerting anyone and then wait at the side entrance for further instructions. You had to be quick and quiet so as not to be discovered, so you and Bucky opted to use your bare hands to take out the guards. A couple of blows to the head, a few minutes blocking their airway, and just like that they fell unconscious to the ground without even knowing what had attacked them. Staying hidden and moving stealthily probably ended up taking more time than the task of eliminating the guards itself. Bucky was easy to work with when he kept his mouth shut and his attention focused on something other than his hatred for you.

"We're in position, Captain" you whispered into your earpiece to let Steve and the rest of the team know that you and Bucky were ready to proceed.

"Copy that, Y/N" you heard Steve's voice in your ear. "Hold your position and wait for my signal."

"Copy that."

You overheard Steve ask the rest of the team for a status report. Clint and Natasha had been delayed by a couple of guards who managed to spot them before they could take care of them, though it was nothing that put the mission at risk. You waited patiently for everyone to get to their positions, trying your best to ignore the awkward tension between you and Bucky. He had stopped fixing his intense gaze on you, but the sidelong glances he gave you from time to time weren't much better.

"Okay, everybody is in position" Steve's voice echoed in your ear again. "Remember, we're here for information. We get in and attack from every angle to confuse them. We take what we need and we leave." He continued to give a brief encouraging speech about why you were doing what you were doing, but you didn't need those pretty words. You didn't even need an excuse to attack Hydra, your personal experience was reason enough to want to burn every base to the ground. Taking them down was your life's mission and the only reason you had agreed to join the Avengers.

The plan was simple. Each duo would attack from a different point to confuse the Hydra agents and throw the guards off balance. Your job was to keep the enemy's attention on you so that Steve and Sam could obtain the organization's records. You had drawn them a map based on vague memories you had of the times you had been there before. If nothing had changed since your last visit, Steve and Sam had a safe way to the office of the man who acted as the boss at that base, where all the records of Hydra's activities were kept. Those files were key to defeating Hydra once and for all, so you were willing to give your life to make sure Steve got them.

When Steve gave the signal, you and Bucky entered the building with guns blazing. There were many armed guards inside, but they were no match for your perfect aim. The sound of gunfire—both near and far away from you— and the screams of Hydra agents was all you could hear as you advanced upon the enemy. Being back in that place brought back horrible memories, but you didn't let that distract you. You buried the resentment and anguish you felt deep inside, focusing all your attention on the mission. Giving Steve time to get the confidential information about Hydra was your number one priority.

"How much longer?" You heard Natasha's voice in your ear. "I'm running out of bullets here, Steve."

"Almost done," replied the Captain in an agitated voice. It was obvious that he was in the middle of a fight.

The area where you and Bucky found yourselves was mostly under control. A couple of guards appeared from time to time to try to stop you, but they all failed miserably. So you emerged from your hideout with your gun raised and headed for the corridor that would lead you to Natasha.

"Where are you going?" Bucky stopped you by grabbing your shoulder and turning you to look at him.

"Natasha needs help. You can take care of this alone" you explained as if it were obvious. "If you get in trouble just call me and I'll come back."

"I'm not letting you go anywhere alone." Bucky gave you one of his warning looks. Normally he managed to intimidate you when his eyes were fixed on you with such intensity, but today things were different. You had so many feelings swirling inside you that you weren't able to care about him.

"Oh my god! We don't have time for this" you exclaimed, rolling your eyes. "Natasha needs help. If you don't want me running around this place alone then you go help her!"

"I'm not gonna leave you alone here. Natasha has a partner and she can take care of herself."

"This is bullshit! How many times do I have to tell you I'm not with them?" You spoke, raising your voice higher than necessary, noticeably angry at Bucky."I'm not going to disappear to go help them or betray you in any way. I led you all here! I want Hydra gone as much as you do."

"Well, I don't know that. I don't trust you so you are not leaving my sight." Bucky's voice was determined, the features on his face rigid as stone staring at you with a perpetual frown. You opened your mouth to complain. You wanted to yell at him to go to hell and continue on your way to help Natasha, but the sound of a gunshot ringing in your ears distracted you.

Everything happened so fast. One second Bucky was giving you one of his murderous looks and the next he was on the floor with blood soaking his abdomen. You didn't have time to think, ducking for cover as you scanned the room with your eyes for the one responsible. You found him hiding behind an adjacent door that up until that moment you thought was locked, and put a bullet in his head before he could alert his friends.

"Bucky, oh my god! Are you okay?" You mumbled in horror as you pressed your trembling hands over his wound. "Please stay with me."

"Guys I got it. Get the hell out from there" Steve's voice exclaimed in your ear.

"I-I need back up" you mumbled into your earpiece. "Bucky has been shot. He's losing a lot of blood."

There was a silent pause that felt like an eternity before Steve replied that he was on his way. He sounded concerned, but at the time it didn't occur to you to think about how angry he would be at you for letting something happen to his friend. That thought only popped into your mind when you noticed the stiffness in his expression as he looked at you.

"What happened here?" He asked you in a cold tone, kneeling down next to Bucky, who was struggling to maintain consciousness.

"We were... I-I don't know. Some guy came out of nowhere and shot him... I couldn't do anything." You tried to explain despite your nerves. Steve removed your hands from his friend's wound and helped him up, putting Bucky's arm around his shoulders so he could carry him.

"I'm sorry, buddy. I shouldn't have left you with her." You heard him mutter as he walked away. You stood there not knowing how to react, until you felt someone put a hand on your shoulder.

"I-I'm sorry... I didn't mean to..." When you looked up, you saw Sam's face, who was looking at you with compassion.

"It's okay. Bucky is strong, he's gonna make it" he assured you in a soft voice. You nodded at his words without even fully processing what he had said and followed his lead, walking next to him to get out of that place.

When you arrived at the quinjet the rest of the team was waiting for you. As soon as you and Sam entered the doors closed and Tony, who was sitting in the pilot's seat, took it upon himself to get you back to the tower as quickly as possible. Your eyes searched for Bucky among the group of superheroes, and found him lying in a corner with Steve at his side. He was keeping pressure on his friend's wound while talking to him to keep him from losing consciousness. Bucky answered him in a weak, slurred voice, whispering his answers with difficulty.

You tried to stay away from them. You were worried about Bucky but you knew that both he and Steve hated you so you thought it was best not to intervene. At least that was until you noticed how pale Bucky was getting. He was losing a lot of blood and his voice sounded more and more muffled until eventually he stopped responding.

"How much longer?" Steve asked Tony, who told him that it was still about 30 minutes before they got to the tower.

"Let me help him" you finally said, approaching Steve with hesitation. You knew it was probably a bad idea, but you couldn't let Bucky die.

He glared at you for a moment before returning his attention to his friend, who was struggling to breathe. "Don't you think you have done enough already?" Steve's words hurt you even though you expected them. You knew he didn't like you and you were more than sure he would blame you for what had happened to his friend, but it still hurt to see the contempt in his eyes. Because part of you knew you deserved it.

"I can help him." You insisted, swallowing your feelings. "Your friend doesn't have 30 minutes. Just look at him!" Steve stood still without taking his eyes off Bucky. For a moment you thought he was ignoring you. It made sense, given how much he hated you. But Bucky didn’t have time for any of this. So when you spoke again you made sure to say something that would make him see reason. "Let me help him. Let me use this curse that Hydra put on me for something good for once. At least that way all the torture and experimentation I went through will be worth something."

Steve raised his head to look at you with a much softer expression than before. There was a mixture of confusion, surprise and pity in his eyes. And as much as you hated the look of distrust he used to give you, you hated seeing the pity in his eyes even more. Now that he understood the implications behind your words, Steve looked at you the same way everyone who knew your past did. As if you were broken inside and incapable of being restored. And maybe you were, but that was nobody's business. You didn't need anyone's pity.

Without a word, Steve moved from his spot to give you space. You knelt beside Bucky, analyzing his wound before doing anything. The bullet had pierced him cleanly, leaving a clear entry and exit hole, but you had no way of knowing if it had damaged any vital organs along the way. Blood continued to pour from the wound, although in smaller quantities than before. It was not going to be an easy task to heal him, but you believed you could help him. Although for that you would need assistance.

"I need to stay still while I do this. My hands need to be steady and firm over his wounds at all times otherwise we could both get really hurt." You explained as you rolled up your sleeves so that nothing could get between your hands and Bucky's body. Immediately Sam and Clint appeared at your side, asking what they could do to help. You told them to hold your wrists firmly over Bucky's wound and they complied with your instructions, kneeling one on each side of you. "Do not let me take my hands away from him. It's going to hurt me, I'm gonna scream and I'll probably pass out, but that's okay. Do not let me move until his wounds are gone." The men nodded as you looked at them, giving you the reassurance you needed to get started.

Letting out a deep sigh, you closed your eyes and focused all your attention on Bucky. In a matter of seconds you began to feel a tingling sensation running through your body and your hands became slightly warmer. It was something that happened every time you used your powers. You guessed it was your body's way of letting you know when you used them. Then you felt a sharp pain stabbing into your abdomen like a knife, right at the same level where Bucky's wound was. The pain increased with each passing second until it became unbearable, but you didn't let that distract you. Transferring Bucky's wounds and his pain to your own body was the only way to save him. You would heal him through your powers, restoring his health by giving him some of your own life force. It was the only way for him to survive after the amount of blood he had lost, so you continued even though every fiber of your body was screaming for you to stop.

Your whimpers of pain echoed throughout the quinjet which was dead silent as everyone watched you work. Sam and Clint fought against the spasms of your body to hold you steady in your position. They hated to see you writhing in pain, but they knew it was necessary. Soon your whimpers turned into howls of suffering. Until suddenly they stopped. The muscles in your whole body relaxed and you fell unconscious on Sam's chest, who took you in his arms protectively. Everyone's attention was focused on you for a few minutes, making sure you were still alive. Your breathing was weak, as was your pulse, but luckily you were already approaching the tower.

Tony landed the quinjet on the runway, where the medical team was already waiting for them. When the doors opened, Sam carried your unconscious body in his arms, hurrying to take you to the medical wing. That image was the first thing Bucky saw when he opened his eyes.

"What happened?" Bucky muttered in confusion. His head was spinning and he felt so weak that Steve had to help him up.

"You were shot. Y/N saved you" Steve explained, still surprised by what he had just witnessed.

"What?"

"I think we were wrong about her."

Bucky felt terrible. Sam, Clin and Tony had explained to him your history with Hydra—how they had experimented on you to develop your powers, how they had tortured you and forced you to work for them until you managed to escape. They didn't have all the details, only the things you had told them, but it was more than enough for him to realize the mistake he had made. As he listened to them talk about your past, he couldn't help but think how similar it sounded to his own story. The experimentation, the torture, the coercion, were all things he too had suffered under Hydra's control.

He should have known better. He should have recognized the pain in your eyes, the guilt and resentment that never quite went away. How could he not have noticed when he saw the same feelings reflected in his eyes every day when he looked in the mirror?

As he watched you sleep in the bed in the medical wing of the tower Bucky couldn't help but wonder why you had never told him the truth. Why had you let him treat you so badly? Why had you let him look at you with such disdain every chance he got? Why did you let everyone think that you had been a willing agent of Hydra? He was determined to find the answers to his questions. He wanted to know you better, to know your true story so he could understand you.

Bucky spent all his free time sitting by your side, waiting for you to wake up. You had been unconscious for two days and no one knew exactly when you would wake up. He, on the other hand, was in perfect condition thanks to you. When the doctors examined him upon arrival at the tower, they found nothing wrong with him. His vital signs were perfect and there was no trace of his bullet wound. He couldn't help but feel guilty that you had risked your life to save him even though he had been nothing but horrible to you.

"Bucky?" Your faint voice brought him out of his thoughts. When he looked up he discovered that you were looking at him with confusion. "What are you doing here?"

You didn't remember much of what had happened. Your mind was still a bit disoriented, confused after opening your eyes and finding yourself in a hospital room. The white light bothered your eyes and worsened the headache you felt. However, nothing was as strange and confusing as seeing Bucky sitting on the side of your bed. Especially since he wasn't looking at you with the hatred you always noticed in his eyes. He looked... Sad? Upset? You weren't sure, you just knew you had never seen that expression on his face.

"Welcome back! How are you feeling?" He ignored your question, speaking in a soft tone as he moved a little closer to you.

"Like I was hit by a truck" you answered honestly, letting out a laugh that turned into a groan of pain as you felt your head throb. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" You shook your head slightly. "You saved my life."

You contemplated Bucky's words for a moment, struggling to remember what had happened. Slowly the haze that haunted your memory dispersed, allowing the images of what happened on the quinjet to flash through your mind. You remembered Bucky's fading appearance, the pain in your abdomen, and Sam's arms around your body just before you lost consciousness.

"Oh" you muttered, not knowing what else to say. "How long was I out?"

"Two days. I was starting to get worried." You looked at Bucky with confusion as you heard him say that. He was worried about you? That was something new. Apparently saving his life was the way to gain his trust.

"Why are you here?" You didn't want to sound rude or aggressive. You were happy to have someone by your side at that moment to explain things that your confused and overwhelmed brain didn't understand. But you couldn't ignore the fact that Bucky was the last person you would expect to find by your side when you opened your eyes. He couldn't stand you, so why was he being so nice to you?

"I didn't want you to be alone when you woke up. I figured you were going to be confused." He explained, embarrassment evident in his voice. Bucky knew it was odd that he suddenly showed such kindness to you, but he wanted to make things right. "And I, uumm, I wanted to thank you for saving me."

"Oh." You were surprised to hear genuine gratitude in his voice. "Don't mention it. I just did what anyone would have done in my place."

"See that's the thing. I don't know if I would have risked my life to save yours." Bucky admitted with shame, struggling to maintain eye contact with you. He was ashamed to admit that he had let the hatred he felt for Hydra—and by extension for you— cloud his judgment in that way. "All this time I thought you were..." He let out a sigh, not wanting to finish the sentence. "Why didn't you tell us about your past, about everything Hydra did to you?"

"What difference would have it made?" You shrugged, looking down at your hands fiddling with the edge of the sheet covering you. "They wouldn't have understood and would have looked at me with pity in their eyes... Feeling sorry for me and constantly reminding me of all the shit I went through."

"I would have understood." Bucky said, resting his hand on yours. You admired his gesture for a moment, reveling in the strange sense of security that the warmth of his hand awakened within you. When you looked up to face him you noticed that the gentle expression he was giving you was one you had never seen on his face before. You didn't even know Bucky was capable of looking at someone with such compassion. "You could have come to me. If you had talked to me about it, I wouldn't have been so hard on you."

"What makes you think I wanted you to be less hard on me?"

Bucky's heart broke when he heard you say that, recognizing in your words the same pain and guilt he still felt for his past at Hydra. You felt responsible for having helped them and that's why you had let everyone treat you like a monster. Because to you that's what you were. You didn't care that they had tortured you and forced you to work for them, to you the only thing that mattered was that you had helped them. And Bucky understood that feeling of guilt perfectly. He experienced it firsthand on a daily basis and it was something he would have to fight against until the day he died.

Accepting himself as a victim and not as the victimizer was not an easy task. It was a decision he made every day, something that had taken a lot of work. The support of Steve, Sam and the rest of the Avengers was what kept him afloat on his bad days, when guilt and anguish seemed to win the battle. But you didn't have that. All you had was his look of hatred that confirmed everything bad you thought about yourself. Bucky was sickened by the realization of the true extent of the damage he had been causing you all this time.

"It wasn't your fault, Y/N." Bucky tried to cheer you up, squeezing your hand in a supportive gesture. "You were tortured and forced to work for them."

"But I still did it." You replied with tears rolling down your cheeks. "I might not have pulled the trigger but the blood of all the people Hydra hurt is on my hands."

"Y/N, listen to me." Bucky spoke in a soft voice, leaning toward you and wiping away your tears with his thumb. "You are not what they made of you. The same way I'm not the Winter Soldier. I know it's hard to accept it, it took me a long time too, but it's the truth. You were forced to work for them but you escaped as soon as you had the chance. You spent all this time trying to beat them. That's who you are."

"How do you know that?" You sobbed. "You hated me two days ago."

"That's because I didn't know the truth. I didn't know what they had done to you. I just thought you were a Hydra agent that got pissed at them and switched sides to get revenge. But that's not true. That's not who you are and I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like it was."

"You didn't know." You mumbled as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand.

"Yeah but I should have known better. I should have recognized the guilt in your eyes because I carry it inside me too. And I'm deeply sorry for making you feel even worse." Bucky looked honestly remorseful. You could see it in his eyes crystallized by the tears he was struggling to hold back, and you could hear it in his broken, soft voice.

He had a lump in his throat that made it hard to breathe. Talking to you had brought to the surface a lot of feelings he thought were buried. It was almost like talking to a past version of himself, the one who had let himself be brought down by guilt and pain. He had the opportunity to help you in a way that no one—not even Steve—had been able to help him because Bucky really understood what you were going through. He had lived through it and knew exactly what kind of thoughts were going through your head. He had the opportunity to use everything he had learned in his time free from the Winter Soldier to help you through this dark time in your life, and make sure you were never alone again.

"You want to know how I know who you really are?" Bucky said and you nodded even though you were pretty sure it was a rhetorical question."It's simple, you're me. We're the same, you and I. I know what you have been through and I can assure you that you are not what Hydra made of you."

Hearing Bucky say those things made you burst into tears once again. You didn't feel worthy of such words of encouragement, but you were glad to hear them anyway. It was exactly what you needed to hear at that moment. His words were like a gentle caress to your soul, one that your shattered spirit was grateful for and glad to receive.

"I know we are not the best of friends, but I want you to know that you don't have to go through this alone. You can trust me." Bucky said as he took your hands in his, giving them a squeeze."I would like to get to know you a little better, you know, be friends."

It was a bit surreal to hear Bucky saying those things to you and giving you warm smiles, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't find comfort in his words. He knew about your past, but when you looked into his eyes you didn't see pity reflected in them, not even as he wiped the tears from your cheeks. He looked at you with compassion, recognizing in you and in your story a part of him. He spoke to you from the experience of someone who had gone through something similar and had managed to come out alive from the cloud of darkness that guilt, anguish and resentment created in the mind. It was nice to hear him talk, it gave you hope for the future. If he had been able to get out of it then so could you.

"I'd really like that" you replied with a shy smile, looking forward to meeting the real Bucky.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #marvel imagines

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batgirlzine · 8 months

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Hello, Batfans!

Mod Kye here.

First and foremost, thank you so much for your patience, and my sincerest apologies for how long this has all taken to wrangle together. I have a handful of long-awaited updates below on previous delays, digital copies today, wrap-up and leftover sales, so please read carefully!

To start, I'd like to issue an apology for the delays this project has suffered over the course of its run and offer a bit of transparency. This year was unexpectedly very hard personally and health-wise, and without going into detail about illness for the sake of sensitivity, took me out of contact on several weeks-long stretches and occasions, leaving my team in the dark without news—and by extension all of you. Such long radio silence and delays are not what you want in a project that deals with people's money, trust and time, and I know it's been frustrating, and for that I'm so sorry. My lack of communication was difficult and monumentally unfair for everyone involved, and I wanted to take a moment to thank Mods Ari and Michi, as well as Kait, for working behind the scenes to keep things running, to update all of you when they could, and for going above and beyond in ways there aren’t words for, when I was unable or unwilling to step up. If any readers are in the zine scene (as regular buyers, or as contributors yourselves) and see them on a project in the future, please check it out, because they’re a force like no other, and will make an amazing experience out of anything they run. They are, quite frankly, the only reason this project was started and finished, and deserve all the support you guys have sent and more for what they went through and accomplished despite the difficulties I caused them, our contributors, and our timeline to you, our customers.

Order Fulfillment

All customer orders were mailed out June 2nd. As I was unable to update BigCartel with tracking at the time, it meant that most of you were not notified. I’m incredibly sorry. I’ve spoken to a handful of folks about their packages this week, but from our internal shipping system, it appears everything was safely delivered. If you have not received your package, or have had any issues with your delivery, please touch base with me at [email protected] about your order!

Contributor bundles will be going out this weekend, which means it’s time for…

Digital Bundles

An email with a direct link to our wonderful digital bundles will follow this update that just went out in about an hour just to please email spam servers, so please keep your eyes peeled and on your inboxes if you're waiting on that! If you have any issues receiving it, make sure you check spam/junk folders first and then reach out so I can help ensure you receive it!

And Finally, Leftovers!

Last but certainly not least, a final announcement for anyone with a friend or loved one eagerly awaiting getting their hands on the cool book and wicked merch they saw you get recently. Our leftover sales will be opening Wednesday, September 20th! If you know someone who missed out on sales the first time around and would love to support this incredible project, please spread the word—or if you’d like to grab an extra keychain for your collection, we’ll see you then!

A separate post with a full announcement will be made tomorrow to circulate just so it doesn't get lost in the update here.

Thank you so much for reading this far, and for sticking with us and supporting this project.

#batgirl zine #batgirls zine #batgirls #production updates #leftovers coming wednesday the 20th #digital bundles coming today

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crp-low-quality-content · 1 month

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Just read the dr post and holy shit- I thought ej would be like. One of the less filthy ones💀 Did you ever meet Ben, or X-virus? I know you said they’re not social whatsoever(which makes sense), But like. I’m curious- Did you have to do any of the ‘Work?’ Or like,,, Did you have a ‘job’ there, or jus kinda vibed? Also wdym sally was scary- Ok well that’s vague of me,, I mean like. I figured she’d just look like a normal, if not shell shocked, 8 year old covered in blood-

OH ALSO did you ever see kagekao? What were some of the scarier looking creeps?

-💀 (sorry for talking so much, I’m a big fan of creepypasta so I’m very interested ^^; )

I HAD WRITTEN A TEXT HERE AND LOST IT WHEN I CLOSED THE APP AAAAAA

Talking about my experiences shifting to creepypasta reality again:

I also thought that the EJ was clean before shifting. I had simply told the universe to send me the most realistic version of them possible, both psychologically and physically. And come to think of it, a being with animalistic instincts, who is "undead" and possessed by a DEMON, it became more obvious that he would not be clean. Besides, he seemed to have a deplorable mental state, I don't know if he had low self-esteem like people do in headcannons, but he seemed to have little energy for everything, almost like a like a depressed person.

About Ben and xvirus, I only saw them a few times, I didn't have much interest in them, but I can say that Ben was another virus that only manifested itself in electronic objects, only without a physical or ethereal body, like an Alexa. The x virus was a weird guy, like the ones that make you uncomfortable just by their presence. He looked like any ordinary white guy, not ugly or handsome, but he had a horrible vibe.

My "work" there was like everyone else's, but I decided to put it in the script that I would "blackout" until I finished doing it. Since it involved not so cool things and I didn't want to have memories of that and come back here with some trauma even though it was "me" doing it (which would probably make it much worse). The mansion and living with those monsters were enough.

As I said, Sally gave me the most chills, but that wasn't just because of her appearance,which was quite sinister since it could often appear malformed and sometimes missing parts, such as legs, parts of the skin or face. She disturbed me because I remembered her story and what she went through, and as I'm a person who thinks too much, I kept wondering if she got the justice she deserved. if her uncle suffered any punishment, how the family reacted when they found out what happened to her, or if they managed to find her. And her story is very sad for me and gives me a lot of triggers, and seeing her in person was something that made me even more disturbed by her. Oh, and sometimes she would follow people around the mansion, or wants to play with you if she likes you, which can't be very nice if you are not used to her and given the circumstances regarding her appearance. And if you see something being dragged or hear footsteps behind you and children's laughter at night, it could just be her.

Regarding kagekao, no, I didn't see him there. I also had no interest in meeting him since he is friends with certain people that the entire fandom hates... I wouldn't be able to bear meeting this certain person, and also whoever he's friends with, but maybe I can see him next time, just put it in the script.

Even though my experience was less than pleasant most of the time, I gave up after a week there, I was able to shift more easily, now I have the symptoms of hearing voices, feeling touches and my body floating when I shift, which is a little scary but it means I've improved a lot. Apart from the ease to do it now, so it was worth it in that aspect.

#reality shift #reality shifting #shifter #creepypasta shifting #shifting experiences #shifting #creepypasta #eyeless jack #creepypasta fandom #cody x virus #x virus #kagekao #ben drowned #sally williams #sally creepypasta #slendermansion #slendermanor

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progressive-waves-art · 4 months

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2am Transitus thoughts since I can’t do fanart right now.

I am THE number one Lavinia apologist, idk what exactly Arjen was doing with her but her being desperate and going to Henry because she wanted the screaming ghosts in her head to stop and Daniel happened to have this dickhead for a brother makes a lot of sense to me.

On the flip side, I have no idea why they threw the “also I’m totally cool with killing my daughter for monetary gain” motivation in there. I’m sorry it makes zero sense to me and I hate the Wicked Stepmother trope as it is.

Why is she married to Abraham in the first place then? What solid reason do Abby and her have to hate each other when Abraham seems like a grounded, reasonable human being he who knows an evil white lady when he sees one? Why does Lavinia, in a conversation WITH HERSELF, say that she regrets what she did to Abby and should go and comfort her after Message From Beyond? Why is the character designed to resemble the “”Gypsy”” archetype a greedy and untrustworthy troublemaker for no genuine reason??

Last point notwithstanding, her motivation in canon just confuses the hell out of me. Through the entire second act she oscillates between a desperate, suffering woman who just wants Daniel to leave her alone that Henry takes advantage of, and a calculating evil witch character that’s just as shitty as Henry himself. Pick a lane, lady.

I have this pile of retcons and headcanons where I just completely got rid of the inheritance-chasing fortune teller persona and made Lavinia’s ability to see Daniel completely spontaneous (though she does have some backstory it makes a little sense for that I completely made up out of thin air, may talk about that later but we’ll see how this post does). The short version is that she’s the same as everyone else. A normal person loves their family, who endures a horrible experience, whose horrible experience is only amplified by their low socioeconomic status, and who is brutally taken advantage of by Henry to a violent end. She did some awful shit but ultimately it comes down to Henry being a manipulative asshole. Lovely.

…but then my aunt bought me this little aesthetic pack of tarot cards last nigtt he and I started reading about the history of this occult stuff in Western countries. And it got me thinking about another way she could be characterized.

I’m not gonna go into a tangent about this but the point is all that divination stuff like tarot cards, ouija, crystal balls etc became popular as novelty in the 1880s and 90s, especially in England and the United States. There were of course occultists who took it seriously but in widespread terms it was sold as what it was today. A harmless little game.

I dunno. Maybe Lavinia got really into that stuff as a hobby and that’s why it’s not weird that Abraham is married to a “”witch.”” Maybe she has it in the back of her head that none of it is real, just a way to kill time and a quirk of her personality.

Then Daniel dies, and she starts seeing spirits. With no genuine explanation. In desperation she associates it with her stuff and tries to talk to him that way, but it’s like Ayreon and his visions. He doesn’t know about Time Telepathy and she doesn’t know about the “crossroads” world Daniel is spending an unusual amount of time in. Little pointless explanations of something far bigger than they can envision.

Abraham doesn’t believe her and thinks it’s just her being way too serious about her occult stuff while he’s busy trying to keep his daughter from regressing any further than she has.

Henry is the only one who will talk to her and go along with her terrified ramblings, not because he believes her but he sees an opportunity in a clearly hysterical woman and she’ll be more cooperative if he pretends all of it is real.

Then she dies, and through it is forcefully disillusioned from her little games even though they’re all she could hold onto for an explanation.

I dunno.

#ayreon #transitus #I don’t hc this at all I just had a thought #I personally like my “was in the US Civil War and is one all too familiar with meaningless death schtick #but Ayreon is so interpretive and I love making multiple renditions of the same person #Lavinia especially fascinates me in that sense #tldr I hate when stepmoms are shitty people even when it makes no sense for the plot #that’s such a cheap shot to me when the whole first act of Transitus is about Daniel’s BLOOD RELATIONS making him miserable #I am so stupid about this album please ask me about it

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transmisogyny-explained · 9 months

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I really appreciate your blog because I've been getting so much insight from it as a TME trans man who is mostly around other TME people (kinda just by happenstance, although I'm always open to trans female/transfem friends).

Anyway. You reblogged a post talking about why some trans women can seem a little prickly towards TME people, which reminded me of when I met a group of trans women IRL once at an event for trans people (most of them happened to be trans women, but all trans people were invited), and one of the women I approached and talked to most that night did seem a bit uneasy/cautious/maybe even a bit standoffish around me at first. I sort of understood at the time that "oh yeah it's probably bc I'm TME" and I've never let it get to me, ofc. I just didn't quite understand how deep that feeling towards me likely went. How much pain was attached to it.

She warmed up a good bit to me eventually, though, and we even hugged before I left. And I just thought when reading that post and a couple others you reblogged, "That woman I met that night, in her 30s, going out with her other trans female/transfem friends to have fun...she had been through a lot. She's going through a lot as I type this. She will go through much more...of course she was nervous around me. So many trans men just Don't Get It, and some don't WANT to get it...and she's suffering because of it. She and all of her friends...why would anyone want that? Especially another trans person?"

And it made me sad. It made me upset that trans women have to be on guard so much because they never know, even in space they belong in, just which TME person is going to decide they don't belong. And, just as importantly, who is going to side with that TME person to make sure she and women like her are kicked out for good...

I don't mean for this to be an "oh I'm such a good person, I would NEVER do that" type spiel. Because I'm not a good person JUST because I care about and accept trans women. It's something everyone should do by default.

I just wanted to relay this story and attach my face to it because 1). Going on anon would make this feel so much less genuine to me. Like I'm more concerned about receiving backlash from transphobes than I am about showing people I care. And I'm not.

2). I know a lot of trans women are frustrated with and scared about the lack of support from trans men. And when I remembered that story and that woman I met that night, I thought maybe if I told it and explained how I felt, that maybe I could give some kind of hope and reassurance that there are trans men who do care and do want to support their trans woman/transfem sisters/siblings.

And 3). I wanted to assure trans women making posts about their experiences with transmisogyny that their posts are reaching more than just people who also experience transmisogyny, as well as unfortunately bigots who don't believe them/don't care/perpetuate transmisogyny on purpose. I'm listening. My friends are listening. I promise we care.

I honestly don't know if this will help anyone or if this is tone deaf at all. And I'm telling you in particular because your blog is where I saw the posts, and your blog has taught me so much, and I really appreciate it. I hope it was okay to send this to you.

But yeah. Thank you for reading all this and I'm so sorry if this sounds like some random needy guy trying to win favors or praise. And no one has to believe me or say anything positive about me or what I said. I promise I don't feel like I need to be rewarded for being an ally to trans women or anything. Again, I was just wanting to tell this story to maybe prove that there are TME people who are listening. I know how stubborn and downright awful some of us can be when we're told we're being transmisogynistic. I'd imagine it's beyond frustrating.

On that note; I'm happy to see you on my dash again! Just please take care of yourself when you need to. It's okay to take breaks, or even a hiatus. Your mental health is so much more important than managing a blog. The work you do is good and important, but you deserve to have time to recover from the negativity you receive. Even if you one day have to abandon this blog for your health, you made a positive impact while you were here! I support and care about you! Thank you for being here and being you💜

I don’t think it’s tone deaf. Personally, I like hearing that my efforts haven’t been for nothing, so thanks for sharing.

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callmeklair · 4 months

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Hey, excuse me, but did you read this? https://www.tumblr.com/yuikomorii/738629974149496832/ok-i-didnt-want-to-go-this-far-but-at-this

I genuinely want your opinion about this post, because I totally agree with your post, and thought this other one was a bit rude.

(sorry for my terrible English, I hope I'm not being rude to you)

dw, english is not my first language too so it's okay also you are not being rude. and yeah just like I said some people hate the "overhype" not Ayato hit this Ayato stans still convert it into ayato hate and start giving various reasons to prove their point. just like in this post. it's like if we go through other boys' contents more deeply like they did with Ayato, then we'll also find a lot of growth, development and plus traits in other characters. but nah they just wanna paint it on Ayato.

if we talk about Ayato forgiving Cordelia because he still hoped she got her feelings reciprocated, then Yuma forgiving Reiji is way more major and heavy, because we all know how bad Mukamis' experience was. and if Reiji wouldn't have burned down his whole village, Yuma wouldn't have ended on city streets, with memory loss and then you guys know the rest. orphanage was one of the most terrifying hell for them because of the war (and it's sad how it was so true) yet Yuma forgave Reiji and even wished for his happiness with Yui.

Reiji also had one of the biggest developments. he was someone with ambition but ignored and cast aside by never receiving his mother's acknowledgement. yet after meeting Yui he grew so much like, in Shu's LE route, he literally sacrificed himself to protect Yuma because he was guilty and even though Yuma already said he forgave him a long time ago why he did it, Reiji said no matter how many times Yuma forgave him, it wouldn't rid him off of his guilt and past actions. also he:

this is not even his own route! but Shu's DF route yet look at my boy. proof that Ayato is not the only one who is compassionate out of his route. and same goes for Mukami brothers, be it Sakamaki, their own family or even Tsukinami's route they are compassionate and that's really a big deal because after what happened to them, they laugh at things like "humanity" because nobody showed them such yet look at them in later games.

In other words, yes there are many reasons for Ayato stans to make Ayato the main hero because Rejet said it so but please stop putting other characters in the background, casting them aside like they didn't have it rough and are NOTHING compared to Ayato's sufferings and compassion. all of them had different environment. even triplets, ayato, laito and kanato were mistreated differently. and Laito only pushed away Ayato because of what Cordelia did to him, and remember, among vampires there is nothing like humanity and compassion that's why Laito never expected anything from any of his brothers and pushed Ayato away too. ALSO AYATO SAID IT HIMSELF IN LAITO'S DF THAT LAITO HAD IT WORSE FROM CORDELIA.

Yes Ayato probably killed Cordelia to protect his younger brothers + also what she did to him, and I really like that about him. but that didn't mean other characters didn't do anything. Carla sacrificed Shin's eye instead of giving up on his brother's life even if it meant Shin will hate him for his whole life but at least that'll still keep his little brother alive.

Ayato realised Karlheinz is the root of evil, so did Shu a long time ago but everyone have their OWN way with dealing things, and Shu just wanted a peaceful life with Yui that's why he never tried to ever mention his father or tried to face him head on. it was difficult for Mukamis to accept Karlheinz evil because he was their saviour yet they still took courage and betrayed him for the sake of evil. Reiji likes his father but in his CL good end, even he was speechless and finally had enough of his father's Adam and eve plan, rejecting the throne and taking Yui away.

now if I keep going, this post will become endless so I'll stop now

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astorichan · 6 months

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soooo like bug romance right?

I have literally never thought of bug game in romantic terms, especially not between the higher beings

It’s always been a lot of…familial bonds, and how they’re messed with/exploited

But

you seem to have bug romance on the brain

and I wanna know

I wanna know how that recontextualizes this game

please

I’m so sorry for bothering you so much your rambles are just so cool

bug romance hehehehe

i kind of went in with the same view: came for the sibling dynamics between Hollow & Ghost (mainly) + Hollow & PK family dynamics. Then I happened upon a single line in another fic that ripped my heart out and sent me into a recontextualisation night-long spiral. (misread the tags on it, oop) The line was "And it felt terribly alone without her." Hollow @ Radi.

So yeah, that was the first ship I got into. It resonated with me very hard due to some history, so I was able to really... care about it and the dynamics at play. (my aro ass needs to get very invested to ship characters lol)

BUT enough intro, let me actually ramble:

RadiHollow is the first of my two ships. It's based on several factors, first of them being that those two spent an indefinite (I personally headcanon 300-400 years) amount of time completely isolated from the world. Alone with only each other for company. We know that Radi is horrible at loneliness, her history/the entire thing with Higher Beings requiring worship to live alludes to it a lot: the whole reason the infection broke out was that she'd been forgotten by the moths. Left behind. Left alone. The next factors are my own view of their characters. Radi as I write her is an extremely self-centered person, incapable of ever admitting any fault, incapable of ever being wrong, incapable of ever not being in control. She's manipulative and very emotionally abusive in an... insidious, "you just can't appreciate my love", way. So not "hehe torture fun". Hollow is someone who never viewed themself as a real person. Their feelings, wants, thoughts are not important. They have not experienced kindness for who they were. They also tend to blame themself for anything bad that happens. Couple those two in complete isolation (which, isolation is one of the first steps an abuser will take to gain control over their victim), with Radi showing Hollow genuine kindness despite their failure, despite them being her enemy, despite everything. She has an "I will fix you" mentality; she sees them as a poor, downtrodden person who only needs to be loved enough to fall on her side. To see that she was right all along. They hate each other, of course. They want to watch each other burn. They want to burn together. Radi wants to enter the new dawn together with them. They want to go down in flames together with her. They hate her, but the kindness makes it hard to only hate her. She hates them, but their empathy and responsiveness, their presence and pushback make it hard to only hate them.

Grollow is the second one, and it has direct relation to all the stuff I've said up there. I headcanon Grimm and Radi as siblings (""? as much as beings of pure magic can be siblings. their relationship is definitely familial), which means that Grimm is very intimately familiar with all of Radi's antics: the gaslighting, the manipulation, the blame-everyone-around, the disregard for his feelings, the blindness to what her love does to him. He's someone that understands Hollow, post-Radi. He's someone that knows what they've gone through. He's someone who's had similar experiences and had time to heal from them. He's someone who hates watching them suffer at her hands. And he's someone who sees them for the absolute mess that they are, knows most of what Radi could've done to them mentally and is willing to stay by their side. And somewhere along the way, they fall for each other. Somewhere along the way, Hollow grows comfortable with showing themself, with being themself. They stop clinging to their history with Radi, they grow past their (frankly, awful) learned responses. They realise just how much he's done for them, and they want to be the best version of themself, to be his support - if he will let them. He draws out the best in them. They draw out the best in him. They're mirrors of each other. They're pillars of support for one another. They're both willing to do anything for each other. Even if that anything is growing past spiteful pride and unwillingness to admit to fault. Even if that anything is opening up your heart to a potential knife, dropping a mask of playfulness and detachment, showing the vulnerable skin underneath.

My two ships. Proudly waving them around. There's more stuff to Grollow, namely PVxGrimm pairing (so, pre-Temple). Moon expands on that a bit (I think it's in the already posted chapter, even) and Dreams has it because of shared interests, shared character traits and, again, Grimm's unwillingness to coddle them or evade them for any reason. Means a lot to them.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN SORRY don't you sorry me /lh I'm so glad for the opportunities to talk about my stuff. I love sharing my thoughts, headcanons, anything connected to the creative process honestly. It's a special kind of heartwarming. So no sorry, thank you for asking!

#answered asks #the-moth-from-elsewhere #i love rambling about stuff #grollow #radihollow #hk headcanons #these are so fun #there's a T rated fic i have for RadiHollow (Dreamsverse) if you want a closer look at that #name me a bird #my beloved babies #youre doing a lot for my muse lately sdfgfdsg thank you

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staggersz · 7 months

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Loss of vision huh. Oh the angst potential, I can feel it. He's trying to be the nice guy everyone knows he was before, but with the frustration of having to learn to live with just one working eye I can see him lashing out more easily and startling his family. And I bet he doesn't even have baseball to use for venting out anymore. Again, the angst potential is just delicious.

By the way, do any of the other boys also get some kind of permanent injury?

I swear I love getting your questions in my inbox because it means I get to go into detail 😋

Bruce also has gotten major head injuries, so he suffers from Post Traumatic Amnesia. One of those effects is being distant or lashing out, while other times he’s clingy and is emotional.

He absolutely hates going back to school because he can feel people staring at him like he’s a science experiment through a looking glass. He thinks he looks creepy and weird with his scar.

He feels bad about lashing out at his family. He says sorry, and is just embarrassed about getting mad.

Bruce played baseball for a bit when the season rolled around, and he was exceptionally good at it again. But when his coach told him he was gonna let him go, Bruce just quit on his own. He felt humiliated.

Speaking of life long injuries, there’s a bit ! TW for graphic depictions I guess if you wanna stop here!

Griffin can no longer speak. He has a nasty scar across his neck, and it was so deep it cut his vocal chords and trachea entirely (surprisingly there are ways to survive this 😭)

Billy has a deep cut on his cheek, and on the side of the neck, though those don’t effect him that much. He has trouble walking sometimes from all the wounds he had gained on his back in it’s entirety. He had to wear a back brace for a bit when he left the hospital. He also has a cut just above his heart, which luckily healed.

Vance has a huge cut across the bridge of his nose. He had his nose broken exactly one year apart in this basement, which causes swelling and bruising, difficulty breathing, and nasal obstruction. He went way longer than 14 days without treatment ! He also has nasty burns on his forearms from when his arms were forced on to a stove. That was one of the only times he cried. Vance also has a huge gash across his stomach. That hurt really bad for him, but the shock kind of numbed it. He just found it unbelievable.

Besides all the scars on Robin’s arms and legs and what not, he has a few stab wound marks on his chest. He got them right before they all escaped, so he was able to get to a hospital. He also had one of his teeth forcefully pulled out by The Grabber. Robin isn’t a fan of smiling after that, but he’ll still grin occasionally. Overall, Robin is just horribly insecure of his scars. He hates literally every single one.

Just like the movie, in the fic, Finney had a failed escape attempt. When he was brought back to the house, he tried to fight back, but ended up gaining a pretty awful scar on his shoulder and two less deep cuts the sides of his arms, just like all the others had.

I hope I’m not forgetting anything because that’s all the lifelong or most damaging injuries I can think of for each one!

#tbp fandom #tbp #the black phone #let me have fun making headcanons #this is for my story #cigaw #can i get a witness?#finney blake #bruce yamada #robin arellano #vance hopper #billy showalter #griffin stagg #tbp hcs #tbp headcanons #they are all traumatized #i love angst #griffin literally cant talk #its not a competition of who has it worst they are all traumatized

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