#I AM THE stranger she isnt supposed to talk to

[dizzybizz]

YEAR 1, SPRING 19, FRIDAY, 10:00AM

#i love the way i got the garbage hat and then jas walked past me #I AM THE stranger she isnt supposed to talk to #everything about this drawing is wack as hell #it was fun and all but kinda breaking my brain cus nothing made sense #stardew valley #sdv #sdv farmer #sdv jas #my art #guyssailawayfarm #ok moving on to the next big piece to tackle #i so badly wanna make a whole ass series of comics for my gus arc lord give me strength

[grox]

Honestly I cleaned all the shit up off my floor and I am palpably less suicidal so whatever. Literally big whoop. Its fucked up that we will all go crazy with age and that we are run by the crazy because nobody can escape it. That the insanity pervades every inch of life, human animal and plant. Like let's be real, we're literally all on a timer. For just, world shattering grief. And once you realize it, you feel like you're living thousands at once. Every little moment in time where you still have most your loved ones, most your friends, your family, a pet, a neighbor, every single micro instance you are getting closer to losing them. So you go crazy. You feel like youre losing everything pre-emptively. A little bit of a test drive. Of course you'll never truly know how it feels until it happens. We are all damned to this, everything that creates life may do so then die. Or not, who gives a shit. & I feel like I'm the only person I know whos been this deeply rocked by this news. Like. Uhm, why is nobody talking about this. This is something that forces its way to the front of my mind every chance it gets. I miss when I was free from it. I literally want it to stop so bad I've considered killing myself so I can stop thinking about it. But thats an idiotic move. I hate grief. I dont want to make more of it. Not to my friends, not to my mommy. I wish I could just grab a stranger off the street and give them whatever the fuck I got in my head so it leaves me alone. Maybe slip it in their pocket like a stone. I feel fucking insane the way I genuinely feel like I can't enjoy anything because I know it too will die. Like isnt it a bit fucked. And this knowlege, the fact that everything is temporary is supposed to like, increase the value of the like, literal miracle of life and shit. And believe me, it does. Now that I've repaired my relationship to my mother I realize now how fragile her life is. I take her to dinner more often, buy her flowers more often, help her more, hang out with her more. I am creating memories for myself, and for her. I just want her to be happy. I know for a fact that if I killed myself she would follow. I love her so fucking much. I don't want her to suffer any more than I've already made her. Lets be frank, I fucking suck. For so much of my life I felt like I was put on this earth just to curse her. She went through hell to have me, and I fucking hated her. For no reason. I grew up thinking she would kill me, I made her cry and shit. And we're cool now. I want her last years to be happy. But after that? What then? She had to deal with her mothers death. But she's like 50. What of me? When I lose her young? I could kill myself after she dies, and I will really really really want to, but that's literlly stupid. Its stupid. What animal in nature kills itself because mommy died. We just, we all have to deal with it eventually, we all have to move on. If anything I could shit out a kid in my late 20s so it can also go through with what every single thing on earth from the first fucking sunbeam to touch the dead rocks had to deal with. The kid can go crazy just like me. Like literally every conscious thing & it literally doesnt matter. I can't tell this shit to a therapist cause I'm afraid she'll hit the silent alarm on me and they'll make the ending of i have no mouth and I must scream happen to me

[selamat-linting]

living after experiencing sa is so weird like, the same piece of writing about assault could do nothing or it could send me into a week long spiral and its just a matter of dumb luck or pure chance that determines my brains' reaction to it. i've had moments where im legitimately triggered in the middle of re-reading something i actually enjoy as porn. over the years i figured it was because i had small triggers that are abstract or wasnt easily noticeable or doesnt feel like anything until its in the spesific context of sa. like being trapped in an enclosed space with strangers, begging to be sent home, being deceived, having your preferences and interests weaponized against you, the really lonely and painful walk home afterwards where no one comes to save you but maybe its better off this way since you dont want to be seen, those are things im particularly sensitive with. for example, a few years ago i got really messed up about this anecdote of a kid who got kidnapped by a neighbor for a few hours. he offered to see his cat and then lock them up in a room while theyre playing with said kittens. nothing actually happens but that made me legit depressed for a few days. while im fine talking with my friend about an incident where she got followed by a creepy guy who groped her while she's walking home. both situations are horrifying and bad ofc, but i cant exactly communicate or find an easy way to filter out the bad. like, i can handle hearing the graphic details, the bare bones account of what happens, but if it touches on how the victim was tricked or deceived or gets taken advantage of, even when its basically the least upsetting part, i just couldnt do it.

idk, maybe its because my experience was more in the mental stuff. yeah sure, it was only some groping, an almost kiss, and some sex talk. but the context was that i asked for help, someone friendly comes along, they say theyre just helping me but turns out they actually have ulterior motives. i was stuck in a car for hours to god knows where, fully knowing i was gonna get raped when the car eventually stops, trying to plead or at least delay it with someone i thought was a friend without being too harsh because i know they could do even worse things if i drop this thin veneer of friendliness we got going on. and all the while this asshole kept touching me in spots i didnt even realize was a sensitive place for me and i had to keep a straight face the whole time because if they see a hint that i liked it, its over. did i like though? yeah. do i want it? fuck no. never in a million years. and i felt betrayed because im supposed to have that moment of discovery with a boyfriend or a girlfriend and it was supposed to be nice and comforting but its not. and i might associate gentle touches with this forever. and there's also a part of me that said, hey somebody wants me. dont you want to be wanted? i might as well enjoy it because no one's gonna offer me hot car sex like this. i should try to get myself wet! this is a new experience that i should just see the bright side of. im supposed to be a kinky slut right? i just turned 20. and after all, i promised myself, after the first time i had my sa as a kid, the next time it happens im gonna fight. and what am i doing right now? i'm just running my mouth. im laughing at my soon to be rapists' joke and i tell him we should meet up later instead of doing everything right now since i had work later in the day. this isnt fighting, its bargaining. and all the while im wondering if i look pretty while im doing this. i hope i look pretty. im just wearing sweatshirt and pajama pants. this is sick, why do i want to look good while im sexually assaulted?

i never told this to anyone except a friend. but even she didnt get the whole account. she just know it happens. its the part that actually upsets me that i didnt tell her. the whole violated trust thing. and how dumb i am for instantly accepting help from an acquaintance i dont even know that well. and what happens after the car stops. all she knows is that when it stops, i pushed him off of me and i left the car and run.

to her it just seems like im valiantly fighting off an asshole. she didnt know that after i ran, a bunch of men saw me running. they asked me if i need help. they were kind. but i thought of the hassle of reporting to the police, being grilled with questions, have my entire behavior scrutinized, and my parents vacillating between unhelpful anger or chastising me for being so trusting and eventually isolating me because i cant be trusted to exist in a public space without being harassed and god i dont want to miss work today and theyre gonna ask why if i had to miss a day and theyre gonna know too. so obviously i shut up. i couldnt say anything. the fuck who assaulted me came, and get this, i went back to his car. i didnt sit next to him, i was sitting at the backseat, and he was angry and yelled at me the entire time while driving me back to the closest bus station. i didnt say anything, and i actually paid him money before leaving. i was a coward.

in hindsight, what happens after the next few month after that was just me trying to compensate for the shame and utter incompetence i felt. i thought i was good at being confrontational and assertive, but when it actually matters, i cant speak. it was awful. i mean, it was a moment of self improvement, i did evolve from being an awkward self-important debate kid to an adult who relies on being good with persuading people for a living. im proud of that. but the feeling of helplessness still remains. im still afraid that when it happens again, i'd just clam up like usual. even though i already successfully fend off several people trying to fuck with me before anything that bad ever happens because im a hot saleswoman now. it felt weird calling myself a victim or a survivor because, it just happens. i didnt survive shit nor do i want to be a victim. i dont want to be pitied. and i dont want to be called brave or anything because im anything but.

except that everytime something reminds me of my sa incident, i kept having this urge to tell somebody, and i'd wrote a long paragraph detailing everything that happened including all of the uncomfortable details that didnt make me look good as a victim. and then i'd delete it before sending because its not good to tell your personal triggers online right? but i have no one i want to talk about this irl. and i cant imagine any well-meaning response that doesnt make me angry. i kept thinking about it. if anyone acknowledged this happens to me, i have no socially acceptable response. im not sure if anyone could understand or be sympathetic. i mean, imagine someone told you a grave secret about them and then they get angry and throw a tantrum when you say youre keeping their secret to the grave. youre in the right to be angry and confused at them. and its one thing to write a retrospective like this, and its another thing talk about it directly. i wouldnt be self aware to control myself. i'd just ruin another friendship because i got pissed off for no discernable reason.

i dont really know where im going with this. i think i just wanted to get this out of my system. its been what? three years? im sick of keeping that shit in. i think i just need to talk about it, sort of like a confessional before moving on for good. anyway, your usual shitposting will resume shortly. bye bitch!

#sa cw #this is about my personal experience with it #and something about abstract triggers

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Hello! I was wondering if I could get a merlin, lotr and marauders era hp matchup/ship request? Thank you! My pronouns are she/her and I’m bisexual.

Personality: I originally come off as quiet, and aloof. It can seem standoffish but I don’t mean it too I just don’t trust very easily and am uncomfortable with strangers/new environments. I am my best when I am by myself or with my closest friends. With my closest friends I’m quite open, fun and talkative especially when talking abt things that interest me. Im quite the good listener as well when it comes to my more extroverted friends. Im also introverted, imaginative, creative, individualistic, reserved, structured and picky in my own way, all sprinkled with a little bit of sarcastic humor.

Hobbies: Digital Art is probably my biggest hobby. If I could I would spend all day at home with my trusty tablet and stylus drawing with an audiobook of my favorite novel/tv show running in the background. Apart from art I absolutely love working out. I kickbox and weight lift most days of the week. Lastly I love playing video games, spending time at comic book stores, the movies and coffee shops.

Interests: I work in the digital media arts and love creative coding, interaction design, and computer graphics. I think my favorite thing is that combination between the artistic and the technological.

Love language: this one is definitely acts of service.

Thank you!

oh hello again, i remember you from last time! because you got a hobbit matchup back then, for the lotr matchup i definitely am going to specifically use lotr characters, so hopefully you'll enjoy this one too! (it is a good sign you came back, isnt it?) btw sorry i couldn’t work your digital art into this well, all of the worlds kind of dont have tech? but you can imagine that its digital

for merlin,

I ship you with

Gwen! 

- Guinevere is as sweet as they come, but that does not mean that she’s not totally fierce too. It was easy for you to fall for her, just as it was easy for her to fall for you. 

- She adores watching you work on your art, especially when you give it to her after. She has a whole drawer in her desk just for all the pages you draw onto. When you work, she’ll read a book, though she most often won’t read and instead stare at you over the rim of it. She’s not very subtle, either, so even if you’re concentrated you can basically feel her eyes burn into your hands. 

- She always blushes when you do something for her, though you do it often. She’s used to doing the work around the castle, so when you suddenly pick up the things she’s supposed to carry or take the books from her hand or sweep when she’s busy otherwise, she doesn’t quite know how to react apart from thanking you and smiling so deeply her dimples show. You think it’s the moments she’s the most beautiful. 

---

for harry potter, 

I ship you with

Remus Lupin!

- Remus is as out of this world as you are. He matches you perfectly, your sarcasm meeting his halfway out of your mouth, your quiet exterior but chaotic mind the same his is. With him, you can share anything and everything and not fear misunderstanding. 

- The first time he saw you working out, he dropped the things he was holding and had to try three times to make a spell work that would put his broken ink bottle back together and the spilled black ink back inside it. After that, he watches you whenever he can. He doesn’t join in, even if you ask him to, he’ll just deny it, and he’ll always have some parchment or book in front of him, but both of you know that that’s a ruse and nothing else so that he can stare at you train. 

- You absolutely turn every conversation into a sarcasm competition, and every snide remark that you can think of he’s also thinking of, and then it’s “who can say this faster and win”. Sometimes you team up and throw so many sarcastic comments at your friends for doing something stupid that James will end up screaming and dragging Sirius and Peter out of the room while you’ll turn to look at Remus and the two of you will double over with laughter. 

---

for lotr, 

I ship you with

Haldir! 

- Haldir is quiet, he thinks before he says or does anything. As an elf, he has the time to. Unlike you, this doesn’t change when he gets to know someone better. He’s always like that, but you don’t mind - you can sit for hours in silence with him, especially outside. While you draw, he’ll braid your hair or read a book or work on some paper or just sit and enjoy the time to think. 

- It’s different though, very different, when you work out with him. While you focus on the body itself, he, as most elves, uses bow and sword, and he’s as talented as none other with both of them. But he lets you walk him through your routine once, and he does the same for you. The both of you rather stick to your own things, but you do gladly practise together. He’ll use an old sword for training as you do your best to sweep his feet from under him or get his face, and when you lift him up, he shoots at trees and later on, orcs. 

- He’s not as used to physical closeness, so he won’t be the guy who necessarily cuddles up to you, but when you ask him to hug you or kiss you, he always will. And when you do something for him, especially when you take out an enemy that was his to fight, he gets the deepest, most genuine smile on his face and always catches you in his arms, pulling you close to him and placing a kiss on your head. Or, well, not in battle, but once you’re both safe and sound again. 

can’t tell if you’ll like your results, so if you don’t, gladly come back for another round! 

#matchups #harry potter matchups #marauders #marauders matchups #lotr #lotr matchups #merlin #bbc merlin #merlin matchups #gwen #guinevere #haldir #remus lupin #young remus lupin #x reader

[woosansang]

the way i have a whole rant flitting through my head but every time i try to write it down i just come up with mismatched and jumbled sentences that dont make sense and dont accurately describe the things im thinking :/

i love coming back from a nice, relaxing and fun holiday w my sister and her bf and then the minute i get home and sit down, im deflated. like within minutes ive completely forgotten about how enjoyable the trip was and how much i laughed and how i want to do some of those things again. nope. im just depressed again all of a sudden.

i just go right back to making my gifs and watching my videos and doom scrolling, just wishing i could maintain that happiness for longer than the fleeting moments when i am actually doing something fun. the rest of your life isnt supposed to feel so empty and lost.

i dread going to sleep. i dread the days passing. i dread going back to work in another week and a bit. i want to hang out with my irl friends but im sick of messaging them first. i want to talk to my online friends on the phone but im still anxious about asking. i know people are busy. i try to go places alone but it just gets so boring and lonely when youre alone with your thoughts for so long.

i hang out with my sister and her bf and i want to be part of that. i am part of that most of the time. she pouts when i complain about not having someone to go with to a place and asks why dont i just take her. he comes to me when she’s busy and talks to me and shows interest in my stuff. they are my family and i love them and soon we will be living together and i look forward to that. but when they are at his place for a few nights a week, when i dont see either of them for two days in a row, i feel so empty and alone. when they are around and not talking to me, im fine, but if theyre not around at all, i just sort of. exist here. i sit here and i make my gifs and watch my videos and scroll and scroll and scroll--

i feel like ive done absolutely nothing in the last 10 hours since we got back from our trip. i read some fic. it was entertaining and enjoyable in the moment. i ate some food. i missed my mother’s cooking. it tasted really good. i rewatched an episode of stranger things with my parents. i hated it all over again. i had a drink with this new turkish delight mixer thing i found and bought yesterday. it was nice. i encoded a few gifs and opened them in photoshop, but they’ve just been sitting there for like. two hours. uncoloured, unsharpened, uncaptioned. i cant be bothered making this set anymore.

i’ve been wanting so desparately to write fic again recently. i just have zero fucking motivation to even go looking for prompt ideas or anything, let alone actually opening a google doc and writing actual sentences down.

i’m so.... ugh.....

when i am not actively doing something, i just sit here and. feel nothing. something to talk about with the doctor in a few weeks i guess. sigh.

#jazzy talks #me rn: :/ #delete later #im sorry im always like this :(((( #atz pics or pet pics in my inbox would be appreciated if anyone is around :((((

[ihateeverything101]

get ready for nonsense rambles! some of these i pulled from my notes where i write when i am upset or feeling things. i don't think it follows a train of thought but this is how i'm feeling

general explaining / talking:

Katie is moving in early August and Char will be flying to Connecticut to drive with her back to CO. when Char first talked about Katie he said that she would be visiting for the first time in August, there wasn't a rush. that's comical.

I enjoyed spending time with Katie and getting to know her, there are some qualities about her that I don’t enjoy but that is the reality with people. I am not looking forward to living with her but I am also OK with it. Im not looking forward to it because it is different than we are living now, I know we will make new routines and they might even be better. It is hard to think positively though because I am focused on the bad and annoying things that I am going to have to deal with by sharing the space and partner with her. She was such a messy person.. god. She left everything everywhere, hair ties, underwear, other clothes, whatever that wasnt on her body was thrown around! It wasnt as bad as I am making it out to be but I am a perfectionist and put myself on a high standard, jesus christ I didnt realize people lived like this. I know she will listen to me and would be upset if she knew how much I didn’t like her mess but its kinda what I was talking about earlier.

Also its part of the work to have to teach someone the standards. I know she wants to do what I want but its still work for me to teach or train her on those things. But I guess I really have unrealistic standards because how is she supposed to learn if no body teaches her. sigh . ya know I guess the problem is that I didn’t choose her. That sounds petty and it isnt really the issue but it is. If I had talked to her for months and grown a connection, sure yeah I like you and you like me and move in and we will see where this takes us. It will be a similar process but also drastically different. She will move in and we will grow a connection and see if we like each other. I dont think the answer will be that we dont like each other but it makes me uncomfortable and upset. I dont want this basic stranger moving into our house and our life and I am expected to jump on board and be besties with her? No one is saying these things but it is how it feels. Like I am the bitch if I need time to process or time to do things on my own. Honestly I am putting a lot of these restrictions and rules on myself. I should be more open with Char and Katie. I know that is the mature thing and I want to do that but like I explained earlier I get confused and turned around on what I should actually do vs what I am feeling.

He says It was the way it was because of Steff.but it wasn't only her but the house that you and her made together. I don’t like the blame you put on her because you guys were partners, I know she was weighing you down and I don't have an eloquent way to say this but. You are both equally to blame, you allowed her energy to affect you and the relationships you had with other people. It is hard because I know that you feel guilty and frustrated that you brought me into this situation, but I wish there was something we could do. You tell me that I inspire you and push you to do things that you wouldnt do without me but I do not feel that. In our day-to-day life I do not feel like I am the light of your life, I do not feel like your partner is fighting with you against the world. I feel like we are fighting each other, I feel like we put our energy into other people or things instead of each other.

rants:

I know he cares about my things but it doesn't feel that way. I wish he would put his phone down and look at me when I am talking. I wish he would be engaged with me and how I talk to him and show him things. It feels like the whole time he is only waiting for me to be done talking and that doesnt feel nice.

The thing that makes my stomach sink is thinking about her moving in. less time for me. Less energy for me. Someone to do things better than what I can do. It’s a lot of insecurity and jealousy. I don’t want him to even leave for an hour, how am I supposed to do a couple of days without him? It makes me very reactive and emotional. I dont want him to leave, I dont want him having a special moment with someone else. I know he isnt trying to replace me but that is how it feels sometimes when the steps are similar to what me and Him did. I’m sure this is something that I need to learn and deal with because I am sure there will be other people who want to move in and will drive with them across the country. Idk. It makes me sad. We dont have money for it but it doesn't seem to matter to him. I wish I had the time to travel and spend time with the person I loved. I wish I could have a 3 day trip with him. I know I got my trip when we drove to OH but thats what makes me feel sad. Like, now were are established there is no more flirting or fun to be had. It makes me sad about our relationship. I try to motivate him but I bring him down. He tries to motivate me but it brings me down. I don’t want him driving with her. Do I deserve things? Do I deserve softness? Do I deserve all the time I want? I want to be enabled. I want him to care about me and give me everything.

Does Katie have the standards she has to meet for you? Or does she only have to try her best? I feel very upset thinking and feeling that she passes the test most of the time regardless of what she does and I only pass the test if I get above a 95%. I wish you could communicate with me more, ask me more things. 

I do like Katie but I also dont. I feel like I cannot talk to her and often times I do not understand what she is trying to get at or explain. I don’t like how loud she is randomly or in general. I dont like sharing you with her. I know I am too pessimistic but why did it feel so different when she was here. Why do I not energize you, why dont you like me? Why dont you wnat to have fun with me? Why don't you want to give me slack?

You say we dont do sexual things because I am not giving the right energy or because I dont ask. Those statements make me sad. You say you want to do things with me but you dont show that. You dont ask me to do things, you don't seem excited, you dont try to squeeze things in with me. Why do I always have to be the one that is bridging the gap. I know you feel like you're doing 75% but I feel like I am doing 75%!!

am i enough? he seemed so happy when she was here. he seems so dead with me. he's always saying how much i do for him, i wish i felt it. but is that an internal thing? am i too stupid to realize what he is doing? it makes me really upset because i don't think so but i doubt myself so much. i cant bring something up to him without questioning myself first and being mean to myself. i don't feel like the light of his life. 

[nightmaretyrantvantas]

This is so ranty as a first post back and im so sorry---

Tw for bad language

(sorry im on mobile and it wont let me add a keep reading)

(spelling mistakes are because im shaking)

But im sick and stuffed up with some kind of cold

And im not at my best but goddammit im trying to be for my partner because shes worse off than me sickness wise and i have to take care of them while theyre stuck finishing their shift with a fever that could possibly get worse by the hour and no way to take over or help because im too sick to take their shift tomorrow and i want to help but i dont fully know how to take care of her properly with my head all fuzzy

And this fucking dick.

This fucking dick of her moms stupid bastard boyfriend starts yelling stuff over the phone while im fighting off a panic talking to her about what to do, if she can pick us up more medicine after her work tomorrow, if we have any Tylenol to try to bring her fever down if the liquid medicine isnt working and hes yelling shit that he KNOWS and has been told repeatedly makes me amd her severely uncomfortable and im trying to tune him out and then he opens her moms bedroom door(im downstairs scrambling to find the medicine and get my raingear back on because cali is swamped with storms)

And he opens it

Laughing his fucking ass off as he yells down the stairs that i was on speaking and he could hear everything and keeps just fucking laughing as he slams the door back shut

Motherfucker already made passive aggressive accusations at us earlier today about locking him out(the house isnt in the safest area for him to just leave the door fucking unlocked for hours at randoms times of day and night while he goes and fucks around or drinks or whatever the fuck hes doing when he leaves the house)

And now hes laughing when i called her mom desperate for help taking care of her while im also deteriorating.

And i get told he "cares" about us really, he wasnt mocking us really he cares he wants to call my partner( while shes currently IN THE MIDDLE OF A WORK SHIFT) and "make sure shes ok" and that he really DOES care even if it feels weird or uncomfortable when he says it.

....

As im being texted this they seem to forget in the silent living room i can fucking hear their talk come through the closed door and down the stairs

And hes loudly saying hes going to come down and talk to me. He should do that right hes going to go do it now.

I almost broke down from the stress of akl this bullshit right then.

I know im not supposed to hang out at her work(our work we work different shifts at the same establishment) unless its right before close

But i shoved my stuff on and hurried out of the house on the verge of either full panic or tears im too drained to even figure out which

And i ran all the way to work and started breaking down as i gave her more medicine

Ive had it im done

I texted her mother that i cannot believe when he says he cares after his attitude and behavior this past couple days and that im tires of him tryinf to pick fights with us and being a dick to us when were now actively avoiding any interactions with him and their relationship, we want nothing to do with it, we are both sick of it and now neither of us are well enough to deal with it or him any longer

He needs to not call my partner while shes at work

No i refuse to talk to him anymore after this.

I am done and i will not deal with his bullshit anymore.

He can not will not bother my baby boy when he gets off work tonight. She needs as much rest as she can get and the last thing he needs is extra stress piled onto him and make him worse.

We are done.

I am not.

Im not well enough to keep my temper down anymore and i will not stoop to his level and be rude back.

I may be cold and clipped when i dealed with him but that was me being restrained. That was me keeping my distance and being an adult in a unfavorable situation. I was cold and treated him like he is, a stranger that has messed up any chances i gave him. But i was never openly rude.

I am not going to be nice next time.

Im done. Im fucking done.

You want the bitch motherfucker? Youll get the fucking bitch.

Dont ever come near me or my baby again.

If he tries im cutting it at the bud, and im not afraid to burn this bridge

Everyone else in this house except her mother hates you more with every stupid action you decide to do.amd every stupid thing that comes out of your transphobic, idiotic mouth.

Your only ally is the woman you cheated on multiple times and fight with every fucking night

You have no one here you lazy drunken leech.

And when things burn down im going to watch the flames smiling.

I hate being a shitty person. You are the one that brought us to this point.

Theres no one to blame but yourself.

I refuse to talk or interact or even be in the same room as him again. Im done.

Burn in a ditch bitch.

.........

..,..ok ok rant over....time to go draw some homestuck and try to calm down and not cry

Vantas out i guess

#ooc #vantas #vantas speaks #i live i guess #what a way to start the week #tw vent #im so sorry #im probably going to delete this later #i just cant keep this anger in #its bad for my mental health if i do #you can ignore this

[valifian-oros]

I'm so tired. I have deleted the Facebook app off of my phone entirely, to try to avoid conflict with my partners. It's made little difference. I have no one i can just talk to anymore. Im incredibly, painfully alone, despite having multiple partners on paper. It's just on paper. For months now my polyamory has been best defined by my being offered the choice between abuse and neglect, and me enthusiastically responding, "why not both!?" It's exhausting. Hunter dropped me like a sack of potatoes the moment Michael moved in. I am now a stranger, and an outsider in my own relationship. It is them against me. She no longer even pretends to have any interest in meeting any of my needs or supporting me in any way. I am not even a second class citizen in that polycule, and any time I tried to talk about it, she blatantly gaslights me on it. I no longer even try. She has had no interest in any such serious conversation for weeks. Months, even. We were supposed to see each other yesterday evening, but she canceled because her baby daddy flaked. I asked to see her anyway, but she said she wanted to be able to talk to me alone. I believe she will use that time to leave me officially, if we are ever even able to find such a time.

River just continues to irrationally lash out at me over the smallest things. Honestly, even calling them small things is an exaggeration. They are nothings. At best they could be called miscommunication, but generally it feels like even that is a stretch, and interpreting things the way they have continued to do so requires almost intentional belligerence. Multiple times now I have gone out of my way to offer extra support or reassurance only to have it somehow twisted into accusations of me intentionally hurting them, or worse. They are vicious, and incredibly, painful hurtful in these instances. They say horrible, horrible things. Things I've already asked them, begged them, not to say during previous such engagements. Cruel. They always come to their senses eventually, the next day usually. They feel bad and apologize. It makes it hard to hold it against them. It isnt really their fault. Mental illness makes it hard for them to control themself, but it doesn't make it any less painful, confusing, or exhausting for me.

Both relationships are totally dysfunctional at this point. I truly feel I have become worse for the experience of them, at this point. I was so good at communication and respect, and practicing it was second nature. Now I have gotten so used to things being this way, I no longer have any expectation of being respected, cared for, or communicated with. I dont even feel safe and comfortable trying to do so anymore, regardless of whether or not its reciprocated. I feel... ruined. Ah well. At least tumlr is still good for screaming into the void.

[r0mantic-h0micide]

i was writing more posts but they all were about my abuser and then i would start to dissociate and stare. then the thought of what i was saying would leave my brain and i couldnt finish what i was trying to say. so maybe its best that i just dont talk about it. theres no point in talking about it anyway, is there? i mean really, if you think about it, theres no point. whats done is done. nothing can change what happened to me. sometimes i wish it hadnt left me as broken as i am, but ive accepted things as they are for the most part.

sometimes i just wish people knew. i think it would make everything so much more clear. if people knew what happened between myself and my abuser, i think theyd understand more about me. but maybe its what happened between myself and zachariah that would help people understand better. my abuser was mostly physically abusive. for the most part, i suppose there isnt much to tell there.

but zachariah was different. it was deeper. he took my nothingness and turned it to pain and anger. he pulled me out of myself, all the way to the surface, just to suffocate me even more. and whats worse is that he had me begging for it. suddenly, one day, he turned the emptiness into burning rage and thats all i could feel for a long time. still, there are pieces of my memory that my brain has hidden away, but i remember the rage, even if its a vague and shadowy picture.

there arent enough words to even begin to explain how he made me feel. it was the high of my life. he made me feel special, like i was the only one he had ever cared about, even though i knew he wasnt capable of caring for anyone. even though i knew, if he wanted, i would be dead. but that was it, wasnt it? he chose not to. he chose to keep me around when he was so clear that when he was done with me, he would throw me away. to me, he was higher than god. an untouchable being that i was lucky to even be speaking to.

i never tell anyone anything about zachariah because then theyd know. theyd know that i am fucked up beyond repair. the things that he groomed me to find attractive are dangerous. i hate being looked at like im crazy. i didnt ask to be this way. i dont know anything different and i never had a chance to. sometimes, some of the things that i think to myself, make me sick to my stomach.

and its a burden that i bear alone because no one would understand and even if they did, its not like that would make it any better. i know its bad. i know my internal monologue is grotesque. im the one fighting it everyday. and sometimes i just wish that people knew that im trying so hard to change. and i wish they knew that i had to change. and i wish they knew why.

but every time i explain even just a little bit of how i felt about zachariah, how i still feel about zachariah, i have to see horror painted across that person's face. to me, its all ive known. to me, it was normal. there are still things that im learning arent normal that i thought were completely normal.

i wish things could have turned out differently. im pretty accepting of what has happened to me in my past. there isnt anything that i can do now. and honestly with the way i grew up, i didnt have much of a chance of turning out normal anyway. but i wish i could look at that little 11 year old girl and tell her that everything is okay and that she doesnt need to turn to strangers on the internet for validation. i wish i could tell her to do things differently.

its not something i spend my time beating myself up for. whats done is done. living life in regret isnt something i want for myself, its also just not who i am. but i'd like to think theres another world out there with another version of me where that little 11 year old was outside playing with friends instead of inside wishing she was dead because no one loved her. instead of turning to the internet for something that even resembled attention. and then she grew up with a normal high school experience and was nice and made friends. its comforting to think that, even if i have to go through all this pain, she doesn't.

[yellowbluemoonshine]

Do you actually think kagura's slapstick is the same as akito trying to lock kyo in an isolation room after he graduates? Or telling him his father was right about him?

This is very weird thing to ask cause abuse is still abuse and i know that you are being sarsactic by writing this, instead of actually asking, i will still explain what i thought about it anyway, anon/@stluciasstudentjail / @bakugou-sucks who seems to dislike Tohru being friends with Akito (edit; and used my comment and this post to make fun of it/for harrassment, i did edit again cause of harrassments, I didnt write this analysis for you, its for me and for people who think.)

Slapstick is a style of humor involving exaggerated physical activity that exceeds the boundaries of normal physical comedy.[1][2] Slapstick may involve both intentional violence and violence by mishap, often resulting from inept use of props such as saws and ladders. (Source)

First of all, i am very well aware of what slapstick is. Its kind of violence you are meant to laugh and ignore. Which is what we are supposed to do with Kagura beating Kyo scenes.

And this is my personal opinion but i think 'slapstick is stupid' and doesnt work well, especially in a stories about abuse. Because there is no such a thing that violence you are meant to laugh in real life. Toxic actions are toxic actions, violence is violence. You cant just put one as good and other as bad.

Especially the way Kagura beats Kyo was so extreme and unnecessary, every time i saw, i felt realy uncomfortable with it. Not because its abuse but because its supposed to be funny. Kagura is supposed to be one of the 'good guys' and 'close' to Kyo but here we go. They were childhood friends and Kagura loves/cares for Kyo but just because you care someone doesnt mean you can treat them this way.

I hate it because i know that when violence are meant to be funny, most of the time, stories doesnt adress it. I love making analyze and i hate ignoring things. I want wrong things to be adressed. I knew that Kagura will get away with this. Kyo never mad at her, she never really feel bad about it.

But yknow what? In real life, pyhsically beaten by someone is not funny and it traumatize you which doesnt happen with Kyo and kagura for some reason, lol. I will never understand how people find watching someone beating another is funny.

If Kagura was boy and Kyo was girl, this relationship would get more dislike from people but i believe in gender equality and just because she is girl, it doesnt make it okay. The fact that he didnt react back only because she is girl...its not okay. He said he doesnt want it but she was forcing herself onto him cause she doesnt respect his thoughts that much. (This is why Kyo fell into Tohru cause she was the first person who actually respect him as invidual.)

Apperantly, in 90s, girl beating their boyfriend trope was popular, thats probably why Kagura beating Kyo thing happens. But most of the time, it was too extreme and too unnecessary, of course i woud feel uncomfortable about it because Kyo didnt deserve that. If you guys wanna be ignorant, okay but that doesnt mean i have to be too.

But then lets look at the case with Akito.

The words Akito said to Kyo is awfull and she intentionally trying to trigger his trauma but yknow what is the weird thing is?

Why would Kyo care what Akito said? Who the hell Sohma Akito is? Because Akito is not their parents, she isnt always with them, she just sometimes meets with them, talks and they leave. Especially Kyo, compared to zodiac members, he hardly ever interact with Akito.

So basically Akito is almost equal to a stranger in Sohma Kyo's life. And there is literally no reason to Kyo to care for what Akito said. Basically if it was real life, Akito's words wouldnt affect Kyo at all because Akito is no different than middle school bullies. She is just so childish and obvious that its hard to take it seriously. She is also not pyhsically or mentally strong either, Kyo is stronger than her.

But then story gives a 'logical reason' why Akito can affect zodiac, why Akito's words are so important for them. Kazuma explains that its related to god-zodiac bond, basically some kind of supernatural power. (Except Kana loosing her mind case and that doesnt make sense at all cause of many reasons.)

This is why Akito's word 'i dont need you' traumatized Rin more than her parents did. This is why Yuki was traumatized deeply. Its some kind of supernatural thing, not the power of Akito's manipulation or whatever, its just supernatural power. This is why little thing Akito will say suddenly traumatize zodiac members and they hate it and wanna escape from it.

And Akito's locking Kyo up again has nothing to do with Akito either. It was tradition before even Akito was born. As family head, she just continue with the same rules. Even if it wasnt Akito, Kyo would still be locked up.

Why Akito do this? We know the reason. She doesnt want zodiac to abandon her nad she thinks this is the only way that she has to force them stay and locking Kyo up was part of it.

And remember since Akito's actions were portrayed as bad by narrative, she later face consequences of her actions, she face it and punished for it. She doesnt get away unlike Kagura or many other characters. I am sick of people's obsessing with Akito even though she is the only character who gets punished for her wrong actions, story's adressing her wrong actions doesnt make her worse, that makes her better.

And saying "Kagura is acting like this cause she is boar, it doesnt count", then with same logic, the only reason Akito's abuse is effective is cause of Supernatural power, then what she did doesnt count either because that weird power is the only reason that turned Akito's words to "abuse". We are saying its abuse cause even they didnt mean it or its not their fault that they born with this power, it still effected someone else's life. Also that doesnt change the fact that Kagura still forced herself onto Kyo and that made Kyo really uncomfortable which has nothing to do with being boar.

Basically your answer;

Note; This is unrelevant but when Kyo and Yuki said they prefer Tohru over Akito and Kagura, i felt bad for Akito and Kagura, even though we cant really blame Kyo and Yuki for it.)

What Akito did to Kyo is not same as what Kagura did to Kyo. Kagura cared about Kyo and she didnt actually mean to hurt him but Kagura's abuse on Kyo was worse than Akito's abuse on Kyo. Kyo was clearly more uncomfortable about Kagura’s existence than Akito and he had many problems outside of again Akito. The only reason Akito's abuse on Kyo was more effective is not because of power of manipulation or whatever, its because of some weird supernatural power. Otherwise, this doesnt make sense at all.

(Actually, i wasnt going to answer cause the way you asked this question is rude, people who geniuely ask deserves an answer, not rude ones but i explained this because i wanted to talk about this.)

#anon ask #sohma kyo #sohma akito #sohma kagura #tw abuse #fruits basket #sohma rin #bad writing #toxic fandom #fandom criticism #writing criticism #harrassment

[tender-rosiey]

hello !! I was wondering if I could make a request with dazai, where the reader runs a podcast that dazai really enjoys. He doesn't know what reader looks like, but recognizes her voice while he's out and about one day, and introduces himself, and as they get to know each other more start falling?

Idk if that makes any sense. Feel free to completely ignore this !! I love your writing sm by the way 🥺

❥ Euphony

ᴀ/ɴ: THIS IDEA IS SO CUTE SRSLY THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST ✨ I hope you like this and I am glad my writings please you! 🥺💘 also P/N stands for podcast name <3

“DAZAI STOP SLACKING OFF” scolded the blonde, however Dazai couldn’t bother to even lift his head. How could he when an angel is speaking into his ears?

His favorite podcast and most comforting one playing in his headphones.

(Podcast Name) is one he found 4 months ago; he truly enjoyed the melodic voice of the speaker, and what he liked was that she seemed to be genuinely enjoying talking about whatever topic she shared.

He would chuckle at her excitement as if he was taking to her, she reminded him of a kid in a candy store. Somehow a stranger he never met made his heart rest and be at peace and that baffled him; you don’t even know him yet you do this to him?

And sometimes the topics you talked about he was able to relate to and hearing you encourage those who are troubled by them made him happy, but somehow it’s like you are talking to him.

As if you know how he feels and knowing what exactly to say to silence those voices in his head that have been hunting him since he existed on this earth.

Listening for your podcast was baiscally a routine for him, his face would always light up at the sight of a new one being uploaded.

Your voice was an euphony that he wished to hear its symphony for eternity. A never ending melody that he wished to die with it being the last thing playing on his mind, other than the jarring sounds that he so loathed.

But the shame was that he didn’t know your face, what you looked like. However he was confident you were just as beautiful and majestic as your voice. Dazai became a man who hung onto your every word literally, but he knew this time it was alright for he wouldn’t be able to meet you.

He wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of loving and losing again.

But maybe fate has a different opinion?

As for one day he was strolling around the city, and was listening to the podcast that he ever so adores. For some reason he was thinking, is meeting you really impossible? You could still be in another country and who knows how far, but then again can it happen?

As if by default he had bumped into a person causing them both to stumble back with her on top.

“O-oh, sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

...He knew that voice anywhere and everywhere, even between a million voices he still could be able to pick out yours. ‘That’s like searching for a needle in a haystack’ some would say but for him it was clear as day.

You stood up and helped in the way. ‘True embodiment of beauty, he thought then he popped up the question “Are you P/N?”

The question took you by surprise, someone recognized your voice? You smiled and nodded “The only one!”

And so the journey of the sea of love that you both drowned in started. You had exchanged numbers and would talk almost daily to each other, meeting up and having fun.

Both of you blinded by the presence of the other whenever you hung out together, as if you were the only two in sight.

Dazai realized he was falling for you, and it scared him to death. Everyone he loved always had come to a tragic ending and he would never want you to go through that.

To him distancing himself was the best option, so he tried. He tried but couldn’t. How is he supposed to get away from you when he got used to your presence and voice? How was he supposed to continue forgetting you both ever met when your name is carved all over his mind?

And so he realized, he was way too late to distance. He was head over heels for you, everything you did would make his heart flutter, butterflies bursting in his tummy at the sight of you, he was completely and utterly infatuated by every single thing about you.

Oh he was too long gone. Slowly falling deeper and harder until he couldn’t handle it, it wasn’t like Dazai to love without limits yet here you are being loved by his all being. But you didn’t know, and that pained him.

Did you even feel the same way? Perhaps you just saw him as another friend, maybe even a fan. Was he really going to risk your company for his own selfish desires?

Still it wouldn’t be Dazai if he hadnt noticed that your podcasts have been recently about love, could it be possible that you have been talking about him?

Was he really the man that captured your heart and made you a love-struck angel? He hoped so, and that’s why he was going to risk it. If it goes his way then finally life has chose to give him a slight ray of happiness and if it doesn’t then maybe love isnt for him.

“Hey, Y/N!” He chirped as he approached you with his hands behind his back. ‘Suspicious...’ you thought as the man settled in front of you with a smile. “I made something for you; I hope you like it.”

He handed you his phone and headphones, you wore them as he played what he planned to.

‘Y/N HIIIIIIII, hehe.’

That was his voice...

‘I know this is weird and stuff BUT HEAR ME OUT; I, Dazai Osamu, have fallen for you and everything about you’

You blinked and a pink hue decorated your cheeks.

‘You are a masterpiece, a Mona Lisa among others. A beautiful flower that bloomed and made everything around it mesmerizing. A sun that light up the way to a lot of lives, most importantly mine.’

‘You always helped me even before we met and that...that alone made me relieved and when I saw you face to face, I thought I was dreaming. Woah I am really infront of the angel of the euphony that calmed my heart?’

You covered your mouth as the recording continued.

‘I am sure you weren’t expecting this, but honestly I really did fall in love with you and I thought that confessing through a record, what made me know you, would be the best way to confess. Now take off the headphones and look me in the eye.’

And so you did and Dazai held your hand and with a hopeful smile “Will you be my symphony of love?”

[yes] - [no]

ALSO THANK YOU FOR 200 FOLLOWERS I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD MAKE IT THIS FAR! MY DEEPEST GRATITUDE FOR YOUR SUPPORT 🥺❤️

I PLAN ON MAKING A 200+ FOLLOWERS EVENT SOON SO STAY TUNED ❤️

copyright © 2020 tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#anime #anime aesthetic #anime fluff #anime scenery #anime community #anime gif #anime headcanons #bsd anime #bsd dazai #dazai osamu fluff #dazai headcanons #dazai imagines #dazai #dazai fluff #dazaibsd #dazai x you #dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #bsd manga #bsd headcanons #bsd imagines #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #fluff #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bsd fanfic #fluff oneshot

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter One

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2101

Chapter Warning: Bad Language Words, tiny bit of angst

A/N: I started this on AO3 awhile ago. Now that I have a blog dedicated primarily to just Marvel/Bucky, I thought I’d add it here, too. Enjoy!

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission.  

Bucky heard his phone buzz as he was tugging a butter-soft tee over his head. He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand next to his bed as he worked his arms into their respective holes.

9:36

Steve was long in bed already, so the text most likely wasn’t from him. Sam was on a me me kick-- No, what did he call them? Memes!-- of a disgruntled cat which he swore reminded him of the super soldier. He wouldn’t be surprised if it were him. Or possibly Nat. She picked up the new issue of Guns & Ammo the other day and was sending him pictures of a Mossberg MC1sc 9mm she was drooling over.

Smoothing the body of the shirt over his torso, Bucky ambled over to his bed. He snatched up the phone from the navy blue comforter and flipped it over. To his amazement, the text wasn’t from Sam or Nat. Or even Steve.

[phone] work thing boring af. kinda tied one on. might be late meeting you tomorrow

He blinked several times at the message, uncertain how to respond. It was a wrong number, right? Bucky hadn’t made plans with anyone for tomorrow that he could remember. Plus, everyone he knew had the same work thing. And it was rarely boring.

Definitely a wrong number.

He set the phone down near the clock, choosing to ignore the text. Hopefully, whoever this person was, figured out quickly they were texting the wrong number and moved on.

Bucky pulled back the covers before climbing into bed. His body melted into the mattress, muscles relaxing for the first time since breakfast. Training had been non-stop all day today. It felt good to just be, for once.

He grabbed the book he was reading off the nightstand and opened it to the spot he left off. He cleared his mind, as best he could, and concentrated on the words on the page.

A few pages in, his phone vibrated alive again. Another text message.

[phone] sis dont be mad youd be drinking too if you had to sit thru one of these business dinners

Bucky sighed. He had hoped his radio silence would have clued this person into their mistake. Wishful thinking. Before he could punch out a reply, another text came through.

[phone] timmons is droning on about this new client. kill me now

He quickly typed out a reply:

[phone] I think you sent this to me by mistake.

Bucky watched the text indicator pulse as this unknown person worked out their response.

[phone] haha very funny sis

Bucky huffed at this person’s disbelief, thumbs working on typing out his next message.

[phone] I’m not trying to be funny. I can’t be someone’s sister when I’m a man.

He set the phone down on the nightstand again, hoping this person finally took a hint. He opened his book back up to the current page, taking a deep breath.

The room’s silence was broken again by the loud thrumming of his phone skittering across the surface of the black wood veneer.

[phone] how does kevin feel about this so close to the wedding???

[phone] will you still need a wedding dress or will you just get a tux???

[phone] am i still your maid of honor???

Bucky chuckled at this girl (no, young woman) asking the essential questions.

[phone] Your sister did not get a sex change. Yes, she will still need a wedding dress. Yes, you are still her maid of honor. Like I said before, wrong number.

An almost immediate reply came through.

[phone] prove it

Bucky grew slightly irritated at the insinuation. Why couldn’t she take his word for it? He exhaled loudly through his nose.

[phone] How?

A few moments passed before the device juddered in the palm of his large hand.

[phone] selfie

Bucky blanched at the request. He could feel the color drain from his face, only to immediately heat with a blush. A selfie? That is the last thing he wanted to do.

Although he’d been exonerated for his crimes as The Winter Soldier, he still knew about the dislike people felt about him as a person, in general. They couldn’t get past the brainwashing or other persona. God knows he still struggled with it.

He couldn’t go broadcasting his face through texts to a stranger. What if she was one of those who didn’t understand he had no say in what he did or what happened to him under Hydra’s control?

What if he ignored the solicitation? He could do that. Maybe even turn off his phone.

She did seem the type to be very persistent until she got what she wanted.

True to form, another text rang through.

[phone] i will keep texting until i see your manly face

One corner of his lips quirked higher. Yup, persistent.

He navigated to the camera app on his phone and switched it to selfie mode. He stared at the damp locks falling to his shoulders. His beard would require a trim soon, but it wasn’t scraggly. Luckily, he’d had the hindsight to shave his neckbeard in the shower earlier.

Was he considering this? Some girl says jump, and he asks how high?

He combed metal fingers through his hair, blowing out a breath.

[phone] im waiting

Bucky growled at the text, running a hand over his face. “Okay, okay. Give me a second,” he said to his phone. He held it up to head height, half an arm’s length away.

Click!

He previewed the picture, assuring himself it didn’t reveal too much. It was, somehow, off-center, containing a bearded chin and half a smirked mouth, one nostril, and a half-lidded eye.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Bucky pulled the messaging app back up and then sent off the picture. He tossed the phone aside, not wanting to watch the taunting blinking dots as he waited for a reply.

The picture was barely recognizable, but someone like Steve or Nat could tell it was him. It would be okay. No one would know.

His phone vibrated violently near him on the bed. Bucky cautiously plucked the device up, debating whether he wanted to read her reply. What if it said, “Holy shit! You’re The Winter Soldier!”? The hope of this woman thinking he was just some regular guy knotted up his stomach. He didn’t know why he cared so much about whether this stranger thought he was The Soldier or not. He had no control over who believed the lies perpetrated as truth through the media. He could only wish for the best.

He blew out the breath he was holding in and eyed the phone’s screen.

[phone] is it fair to say men shouldnt be allowed to have long eyelashes??

Bucky laughed and immediately thought of poor Steve.

[phone] You should see my buddy’s. The girls swoon and complain at the same time.

He quickly added to the message thread:

[phone] Am I correct to assume you believe I’m a man and not your sister?

The response was swift.

[phone] oh shit ur not my sister

[phone] this isnt 9173083447?

Bucky laughed again, the tension in his chest slowly unfurling.

[phone] Unfortunately for you-- no.

[phone] ugh im such an idiot sorry for the shit i said

[phone] Don’t worry about it. I had a good laugh at your expense.

[phone] oh god now i feel like a bigger ass

Bucky suddenly felt like backpedaling. He hadn’t meant for her to feel bad about her mistake. It was cute in a roundabout way.

[phone] Please don’t be embarrassed. It was the highlight of my night.

[phone] me forcing u to prove ur a man was the best part of ur night??

Bucky thought for a moment. Was it the best part? The training sessions had become monotonous lately, even with the new agents. The team hadn’t been on any missions in a few weeks, so it was pretty accurate to say he was bored around the compound.

[phone] I suppose it was. Work’s been a little slow, and there’s only so much training you can do before it becomes tedious.

[phone] training? r u in the military? ooh, r u an athlete??

A laugh bubbled up from his chest. It was comical to see her try to guess his profession. His selfie hadn’t announced who he was to her after all.

[phone] Something like that.

[phone] so mysterious! r u some assassin who needs to keep his identity secret? is that y ur selfie only showed a quarter of ur face??

He paled at the implication. Maybe she did know and was yanking his chain. How did he block numbers again?

Another text came through from the mystery woman:

[phone] not that i mind u have a luscious mouth

Bucky guffawed at the comment as flames rose beneath the skin of his cheeks. He hadn’t remembered blushing this much in such a short amount of time in decades.

[phone] How much have you had to drink tonight, doll?

[phone] doll?? what r u my grandpa??

He chuckled again. God, he was old enough and then some.

[phone] enough to not want to shoot my brains out but not enough to know this dinner isnt a party

[phone] Maybe you should get back to your dinner? I don’t want to get you into trouble.

He regretted the text the second he pressed send. Was he trying to get rid of her? No. Or was he looking out for her? This person he knew nothing about. She was more entertaining than the recurring nightmare he’d been having for the last week, that's for sure. He'd cling to this unknown to avoid slipping into that black abyss.

[phone] aww does the military-trained assassin athlete mchottie not want to talk with me anymore?? 🙁

[phone] No!! I’m honestly concerned you’ll be reprimanded if you pay more attention to your phone than Timmons.

The last thing Bucky needed was to feel more guilt, especially if it was at the expense of someone’s livelihood. His shoulders were already heavy enough.

[phone] thats sweet but dont worry ur pretty little head over me timmons wouldnt last a day w/o me

[phone] timmons may be the boss but i run that office

He simpered at her swagger. He could only imagine what kind of office she worked in because, again, a total stranger. Did he want to get to know her more, or was this a one and done thing? Would she wake up tomorrow and want to continue the conversation or blow him off for the drunken mistake her first text had been?

Bucky stared at his phone for several more minutes, pondering precisely what he was doing and what his expectations of the night were. It’s not like he was going to meet her in person, right? Was he that delusional? He was an Avenger now. He didn’t get a social life. Not that he had one before but still.

He was startled from his reverie as the phone shook in his hand.

[phone] did i scare you away??

[phone] No. Just thinking about tomorrow.

[phone] shit a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie must have a lot to prepare for mentally ill let u get ur rest

He smiled at the gesture. If only she knew.

[phone] Send me a text when you get home. I want to make sure you arrived okay.

[phone] such a gentleman! i don’t want to wake u if ur asleep tho

[phone] I doubt I’ll be sleeping, but it’ll help ease my mind.

[phone] alright ill shoot a text ttfn

[phone] ttfn?

[phone] ta ta for now god u r a grandpa

[phone] Yeah, yeah

Bucky’s mouth split into yet, another grin as he set his phone down once again on the nightstand. He picked up his discarded book and found his place on the page. After a few minutes of re-reading the same paragraph over and over, he slipped the bookmark into the gutter of the book. His mind was too preoccupied with the thought of some random girl in the city at a boring work dinner. He realized he hadn’t stopped smiling since they temporarily said goodbye.

Maybe there was a good chance this conversation would carry into tomorrow.

CHAPTER TWO

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

[ratisnotcrying]

you’re useless

Summary: “Well, maybe if you weren’t so goddamn useless then we wouldn’t be stuck here.”

Juno hadn’t meant to say it. He didn’t even really believe it. Maybe he would have, when he was still a PI, before he had first met Peter, but he had changed so much since then. He still had bad days, but he handled them better now. He knew when he was in the wrong.

Prompt: "You're useless." from palettes-and-prompts

Pairings: background Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, background Buddy Aurinko/Vespa Ilkay

Warnings: implied child abuse, descriptions of violence, hidden injury, hurt/comfort

Word count: 2.6K

A/N: this is crossposted on ao3 - ik that repeticism isnt a word but im making it one for this fic 

~~~

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so goddamn useless then we wouldn’t be stuck here.”

Juno hadn’t meant to say it. He didn’t even really believe it. Maybe he would have, when he was still a PI, before he had first met Peter, but he had changed so much since then. He still had bad days, but he handled them better now. He knew when he was in the wrong.

~~~

Rowan isn’t quite sure how they found themself on board the Carte Blanche and on the outskirts of the Aurinko crime family.

They had the typical, cliché backstory of a lone-wolf operating within the underbelly of society - a surface-perfect home life destroyed by something seemingly mundane blah blah blah, trust issues, a long line of enemies, enough friends to count on one hand, and nothing much else to show for over two decades of living.

One good thing about working alone is the need to get creative, and this is what had put them on Buddy’s radar in the first place. A few years ago, Rowan had been hired to acquire a tank of rare fish - this is about where they stopped asking questions, they didn't care as long as they got paid - and, after some very elaborate lies, an even more elaborate disguise and a rigged game of cards, they had managed to win a tank of the ugliest fish they had ever seen.

The part that caught Buddy’s attention, though, was the escape. Rowan had been found out before they had a chance to get out of the building, and had only managed to escape because they had memorised the security’s routes. It took a bit of guesswork, but they had been able to work out where the security would be coming from, found an unguarded window, clambered down a drain pipe, fish tank sloshing precariously in their bag, and landed near perfectly in a pile of rubbish bags outside the window - if you discount the broken bottle that had gouged their leg.

Buddy had picked Rowan up a few weeks after Juno and Rita, but it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, no matter how much anyone may have wanted it to be.

The problem wasn’t that Rowan couldn’t do their job - if that were the case they wouldn’t be here. No, the problem was that being thrown into close quarters with a bunch of strangers was… a lot. Especially for someone who had been alone for so long.

Rowan liked Jet well enough, he was straightforward and honest but intense; Buddy’s ‘take no shit but do no harm’ attitude aligned perfectly with her unwavering morals, and this was a welcome relief from the lies and deceit Rowan had lived with for so long. Rita and Peter were surprisingly welcoming, and Rowan formed a reluctant almost-friendship with Vespa. Juno, though. He and Rowan were too alike: fiercely independent, stubborn as a mule, and they both fell back into old habits as easily as anything.

Maybe this clash of bad habits, the deceptive comfort in being who you were, even for a moment, is how this job went so spectacularly wrong.

~~~

It was supposed to be a simple in-and-out job. Rita had taken out the security cameras, Jet was waiting in the car, and Juno was sneaking down the darkened hallways with Rowan.

“I still don’t understand why we need this goddamn painting. It looks like a baby threw up crayons and then just threw up on a canvas.”

“I’ve just eaten, Juno, shush if you don’t want me to throw up too.”

“Rowan, darling, please do not do that - this painting is priceless and highly sought after, which is why, Juno, we need to swap this for the information August Reid is refusing to give us. I did mention this in our family meeting before you left.”

Vespa’s aggravated voice piped up in the background of Buddy’s comms, “He was too busy swooning all over Ransom to pay attention.”

~~~

They had gotten the painting easily, so it was just a matter of getting out again. Rowan had been tasked with studying the guards’ shift patterns and routes, and had had no problem getting them in. Apparently, their luck couldn't hold.

They crept forwards, leading Juno left, right, left again, ducking this way and that to avoid the, quite frankly excessive, number of guards patrolling the halls. And that’s when it happened.

Rowan ducked right around a corner into another corridor, one that was supposed to be empty for another six minutes at least and there, at the other end, was a guard. A guard who was looking right at them.

“Crap.”

“What? Rowan we need to kee- crap.”

Both of their comms beeped, Buddy asking them questions with thinly veiled panic in her voice, but neither of them answered, stood frozen, eyes locked with the guard. Then all hell broke loose.

Everyone took out their guns and bullets started flying, the guard was shouting and footsteps could be heard thundering closer from all directions.

A tidal wave of de ja vu crashed over Rowan, “Fuck, this way,” they shouted, turning to run, voice tinged with something Juno didn’t have time to decipher, but Juno grabbed their sleeve and dragged them in the opposite direction.

“Hell no. You are done giving directions, I am not letting you get me killed here.”

They ran back the way they had come, and Juno skidded to a stop in front of a storage cupboard.

“Get in, quickly. There’s a vent at the top we need to get through. Do you think you can manage that?”

Rowan wasn't sure - there was a searing pain in their side that sent shocks of nausea through them with each breath and black dots into their vision with each movement. But this was their fault - they had failed at the one job they had - the one thing they were supposed to be able to do, they got themself shot and had put Juno in danger. They did not need to hold the job up any longer - they just had to get out of here and they could deal with the shot later.

It was a tight squeeze, both of them were crammed awkwardly into the vents, waiting for Rita to work out where they were so she could guide them out.

“Christ, it’s cramped in here - my side is killing me.” Rowan muttered to themself.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so goddamn useless then we wouldn’t be stuck here.”

Everything seemed to shift and sharpen, Rowan suddenly violently aware of everything around them whilst simultaneously being blurred by memories they had tried so hard to bury: Juno was trying to listen and see if they had been found, there was shouting from down the hall, the smell of musty metal was almost overwhelming and Rowan jerked as if physically struck by Juno’s words, completely at a loss for what to say. Luckily, Rita, who had been on the comms, was not quite as speechless.

“Mistah Steel! That is a horrible thing to say, how could you-”

“Goddamnit Rita, I don't have time for this - how they hell do we get out of here?”

~~~

Jet was still outside with the car, and took off at break-neck speed as soon as the doors were shut. Juno sat in the front seat, the painting on his lap, talking to Buddy about something, and Rowan was slouched in the back, trying to cover up the fact that their organs were about to fall out. Well, that was an exaggeration. Probably. Just to be safe they grabbed a jacket they had left in the car weeks ago and slipped it on, wrapping it tightly around themself to try and hide the blood and hopefully-not-organs.

Juno had gotten a bit banged up in the vents, so when they arrived back at the Carte Blanche he went straight to the medical bay to meet Buddy with the painting and then to get checked.

“Rowan, it is recommended that you also get checked out. You look very ill,” Jet said as Rowan turned away from the medical bay and towards their room.

“No worries, Jet, I just want to get changed first - these clothes are filthy.”

~~~

“It was a mistake, darling, the best of us make them.”

“Yeah, well, it ws a stupid mistake - all they had to do was make sure they knew where the guards would be and then make sure we weren’t there!”

Vespa growled at Juno, who was gesticulating wildly whilst she was trying to wrap a bandage around his arm.

“Juno, I don’t care if Rowan walked straight up to that guard and told him why you were there - we are a family, and you will not speak to any member of this family like that.”

“That’s another thing - I get why everyone is here except Rowan - you said it was some daring escape that brought them here, but after today’s performance… what exactly do they bring to the table?”

“I’m going to leave that for you to work out, Juno.” Buddy said tersely.

He deflated a little, head tipping back to stare at the ceiling. Goddamnit.

“Are we about done here, Vespa, I’ve got places to be.”

~~~

Rowan would quite like a stiff drink right about now. Partially to actually drink, but mainly because they had run out of steriliser and this wound was definitely going to get infected and it would be this whole thing and they would get ill and-

“Get it together, Rowan.” They hissed, pulling out a sterile needle and taking a deep breath as they began to stitch themself up. This was not the first time, and likely wouldn’t be the last, that Rowan has had to do this - working alone and working recklessly meant most jobs ended with soft pink staining bandages and staining baths, throat and skin burning from cheap whiskey. Tonight didn’t have to be different.

The shot had skimmed their side so, luckily, no organs were falling out, but it was still going to be a bitch to heal, likely would be ripped open a few times and leave a nasty scar. This, unfortunately, was also not uncommon.

The painful repeticism of the needle going in and out lulled Rowan into a violent comfort they tried to avoid, the panicked calm soothing them until they couldn't quite hold back the memories they had been reminded of earlier.

Raised voices, gritted teeth and finger shaped bruises. Running, up stairs, through doors, arou-

There was a knock at their door. They flinched, snapping back to reality.

“Rowan, it’s Juno. Can I- can we talk?”

They almost said yes, just called Juno in like nothing was wrong. Then their brain kicked it’s way through the fog and realised they were sitting in bloody trousers, half stitched up wound and thread fully exposed to anyone who might walk in.

“Rowan?”

They picked up the shirt closest to them - part of a matching pyjama set - and tried to tuck the needle away so they could carry on when Juno was gone, and threw the door open.

“Sorry, I was just getting changed. Just sit anywhere.” They mumbled, haphazardly shoving piles of washing off of a chair.

“Thanks. Listen, about earlier, I know that you didn’t mean for that to happen. It’s been a rough week, not that that’s an excuse for what I said- are you alright?”

Rowan had half-sat, half-fallen back onto their seat on the bed and was focusing very hard on not fainting, so much so that they couldn’t really understand what Juno was saying. Maybe this wound was worse than they had thought. They nodded and hoped for the best.

“Right… Anyways, what I actually came to say is that I'm sorry I called you useless. You made a mistake, no one died, well I don’t think anyone died. Whatever, it couldn’t have been avoided. I know that I can be abrasive,” he said with a look that meant he had been told this many, many times before, “but that doesn’t mean that- Rowan, you really look like crap.”

“Wow, thanks, Juno, you say the sweetest things,” they took a deep breath and tried not to panic at the fact that they couldn’t really feel most of their torso anymore, “I know you didn’t mean it, we’re fine. Stop looking at me like that, I’m fine, I just need a nap.” The last words were pointed, hinting sharply at Juno to leave.

“Yeah, because slurred speech and sweating and shaking all scream ‘I’m fine’,” he paused for a moment and Rowan could almost see the cogs whirring, piecing together the information - bullets flying, the unidentified something in Rowan’s voice, the jacket they hadn’t been wearing before, the sterile wrappers on the bed… Then the last piece clicked into place, “Rowan, is that blood?”

They looked down at their top - their white pyjama top - as their vision began to fade out, their head too heavy to hold up and mouth too numb to speak, “No-”

~~~

When they came to, they were in the medical wing wearing a loose sleep shirt - distinctly not soaked in blood - and shorts. They tried to get up and go but a not-so-gentle hand pushed them back to lying down.

“Goddamnit, stop moving. You’ve already ripped your stitches once and you weren’t even awake,” Vespa growled, fussing with the bandages wrapped tight around Rowan’s middle.

“Sorry, I’ve always been lively in bed.”

“That’s cute, darling. What’s not cute is the stunt you pulled last night - if Juno hadn’t come to see you when he did... “ An uncomfortable look passed over Buddy’s face, “Let’s not dwell on that. I will want to talk about this later, but, for now, somebody else wants to see you.”

“Great,” Rowan tried to get up again, “Where are they?”

“Nice try, tough guy, but you’re staying right here until mean old Vespa lets you out.”

“Bite me, Steel.”

“No, thanks, I think I'll leave that to-” He cut himself off at Buddy's warning glance and didn't speak again until Buddy and Vespa had both left the room.

Rowan glanced at the bandage wrapped around Juno’s bicep, “Is it bad?”

“No, just a flesh wound, unlike that one you’re sporting - what was the plan? Stitch it up and hope you didn't drop dead in the middle of the next job?”

“Something like that.”

“Goddamnit. Okay, I don't know how much of what I said yesterday you heard but I'm sorry for what I said. I know we don't really… get along, but you remind me of,” he sighed, “You remind me of someone I used to know.”

“Juno, I really don't need a pep talk.”

“Well, here's the thing - you absolutely do because this,” he gestured to the bandages and the bed, “can’t happen again. You can't see that we care about you - you wouldn't be here if Buddy didn't think you were worth something and Rita is the best judge of character I know; she thinks you’re great. You have a goddamn family here, Rowan, stop trying to push us out.”

Rowan sighed, and Juno graciously didn't mention the tears in their eyes. “I don't know how to-” Rowan shook their head.

“We aren't going anywhere, Rowan, I know that's not what you want to hear but I don't care. For right now you need to stay here and stop ripping out your stitches. Take care of yourself for once. Then we can work on whatever complexes you’re holding onto so tight.” Juno said, squeezing Rowan’s shoulder as he stood.

Rowan didn’t say anything till he was half-way out the door, “Hey, Juno? Thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

#the penumbra podcast #the penumbra spoilers #junoverse #juno steel #buddy aurinko #vespa ilkay #jet sequliak #rita redacted #peter nureyev #but hes only mentioned #implied child abuse #child abuse #blood #gore #a tiny bit #canon typical violence #hurt/comfort #hidden injury #lmk if i need to tag anything else #lets pretend this isnt a self insert fic about myself lmao

[samwinchestersgf]

obsession (part three)

prompt: “oh my god! he’s obsessed with you!”

warnings: horror, gore, obsessive weirdo, protective sam. language. nothing worse than what’s in the show, but still unsettling

read part one (here) and part two (here)

another cold slice of the blade makes me thrash in my seat. i could give up. i could give him what he wants, but that wouldn’t end the pain. besides, external pain in easier to deal with than internal pain.

my head slumps and my chin is almost touching my chest. bryan tilts my chin up with the knife. “you can always just tell me you love me, not sam. this can all stop.”

“it seems like you’re enjoying this too much. i’ll pass.” i glare.

i cry out as he cuts through my jeans for the fourth time. he yells, “say it!”

“go to hell!” i yell back.

he lowers himself, so that he’s eye level to me. “darling, it’s been a day. sam isn’t coming. so, you can either keep wasting both of our time, or admit that you love me.”

“i’m not a liar.” my voice is pure venom.

he grabs me by my cheek. “so say you love me.”

i spit at him. he wipes the spit off of his cheek and walks away, his hands behind his head. “i don’t know what to do with you.”

“you could let me go.” i propose.

“and have to go to the police, no way.” he scoffs.

“you’re really amateur at this.” i remark.

“i’ve never fucking kidnapped someone before.” he pauses. “i’ve never felt this way about someone before.”

i look at him pensively. “i don’t know if you know this or not, but this is not normal.”

“being in love in normal,” he argues.

“it’s beyond that, now. you’re not in love with me; you’re obsessed with me.” i correct.

“is there really that big of a difference?” he rolls his eyes.

“huge difference.” i laugh.

he pulls up a chair. “teach me.”

“teach you?” i raise an eyebrow.

“teach me the difference.” he demands again, sitting down.

“well, first of all, when you love someone, you don’t speak to them like that.” i start, deciding to play along. “because you’d never hurt them on purpose, even if it was for their own good.”

“you’re making things up,” he scoffs.

“i’m not. when you love someone, it hurts you to see them in pain. so, if you love someone, you learn to let them go.” i tell him.

i remember back to the time i had to let someone go. sam liked this other girl, and even though it killed me, i stayed quiet. sure, it was partially because i didn’t have the nerve to do anything else, but even if i did, i wouldn’t have. he was happy. i consider telling bryan this story, but it would only make him mad.

“what does being in love feel like?” he asks.

“calm.” i answer. “you can still get butterflies, but being in love with someone means you’re comfortable enough around them to be yourself.”

bryan raises an eyebrow, “are you in love with sam?”

i laugh darkly. i feel my mental walls breaking. it’s been a day. it’s dark, and cold, and dusty. warm, red liquid is everywhere, and i taste copper. i don’t have the energy to keep fighting.

“sam isnt even my boyfriend.” i blurt. “we’re not in love yet, but i love him.”

“you lied?” he stands up.

“yes, i fucking lied. i’m stupid enough to get into a stranger’s car, but i’m not stupid enough to let him think i’m single.” i laugh again.

he cuts my hand. “that’s for lying.”

“cut my tongue out.” i roll my eyes.

“that’s disgusting.” he drops the knife and walks away.

“what? am i too much for you now?” i call out.

“yes! you’re too fucking much for me right now.” he blows up. “it wasn’t supposed to be like this!”

“love isn’t all roses, bryan.” his name is like belladonna.

“well, it’s gonna be. you’re gonna crack, okay?” he yells.

“can you put up with me that long? i can be more annoying, just wait.” i match his volume.

“i don’t know! will you shut up?” he rubs his temples.

i hum, “you don’t love me.”

he marches over and grabs my face roughly, slamming his lips against mine in the most unpleasant way. i stay still, not breathing, not blinking, not moving, until he pulls away. it doesn’t feel anywhere near the feeling i had when sam kissed me.

“why won’t you kiss me?” he looks offended.

“you fucking cut me.” i scoff.

he pinches his nose. “i’m not patient enough for this.”

“let me go?”

“or i could just leave.”

“further proving my point that you don’t actually love me.” i call out to him.

“i do love you, and i always will. i want you stop saying i don’t, because you don’t know how i’m feeling.” he blows up again.

i shake my head. i can’t even respond to him anymore. i’m tired, and cold. i’m starting lose hope. i’m starting to lose faith in sam.

he picks up the knife again, sighing. he lazily runs in across my left cheek, making the two gashes that are already there sting even more.

suddenly, i can hear sirens. i lift my head up and look at bryan. “think they’re coming here?”

“you better hope they aren’t.” he knicks my jaw.

the sirens grow closer and closer, until it’s evident that they’re right outside. bryan freezes, dropping the knife. he looks around, frantic. there’s a door behind me, but he’s not that stupid. he knows they’ll catch him.

“what are you gonna do, buddy?” i ask, smug.

“shut up!” he shouts, “i can’t think!”

the door is kicked down. a swarm of police officers walk in, catching bryan red handed. “hands up!”

he throws his hands up. “i can explain.”

“step away from the girl!” the police officers shout.

i let myself relax a little bit, until bryan speaks. “i was just coming in here to save her.”

“is that true, ma’am?” they ask.

“no.” i say coldly.

the police whisk him away, and emergency responders rush in, untying me and helping me outside. the bright sun outside makes my eyes sting and water. in the corner of my eye, i see sam stand up and get out of his car. they walk me over to him.

“do you think we need to take her to the hospital, mr. winchester? she’s not in any medical danger.” one emergency responder asks.

“i’ve got her, thank you.” he nods. he slips his arm under my shoulders and helps me into the passenger seat of his car.

he doesn’t speak until the door is shut. his voice is tender, and quiet. “what did he do to you?”

i can’t even look at him. “nothing too bad.”

“you’re exactly like dean...” he shakes his head, huffing gently. i want to respond, but i don’t know what i’d say.

“i’m-“

“don’t say your sorry.” he stops me. “just stop.”

i shake my head and sigh. the buzzing of the engine and the low hum of the radio lures me dangerously close to falling asleep. my body dares me to try to stay awake, but i decline. i let my body have what it wants. i sleep.

—————————————

“ah... damnit.” i hiss, eyes still closed.

“i was hoping you’d stay asleep for this part.” sam remarks quietly.

“i’m fine, i’m fine.” i open my eyes and look down at him. he’s cleaning the cuts on my legs with alcohol, and damn, it hurts. “we... we obviously need to have a conversation.”

“do you really want to do that now?” he raises an eyebrow, not pausing.

“might as well rip off both bandaids at once.” i joke. “go ahead, yell.”

“i’m not gonna yell.” he states calmly.

“you want to.” i insist.

“i don’t want to yell,” he restates. “are you gonna listen if i don’t?”

“i’ll listen.” i nod quietly, taking a sharp inhale when he starts cleaning the next wound.

“i care about you, so, so much. i thought you understood that.” he doesn’t look at me yet. i remember two nights ago when he kissed me.

“i understand it, sam.” i respond.

“then, why would you go out and do something reckless like that? do you have any idea how terrified i was all day?” his voice breaks. “i tracked your phone to his house, and i tracked it to that abandonded place, and the whole time, i was terrified.”

“i’m sorry, sam.” my chest drops.

“why did you do it?” he asks, bandages a cut.

“i wanted to let him know that i wasn’t gonna talk to him anymore,” i swallow.

“you couldn’t have texted him? or, waited for me get home? or, hell, at least have told me where you were going?” he questions.

“i wasn’t thinking,” i admit.

“i know that,” he sighs and finally looks up at me. “i’m not even mad.”

“it would be easier if you were,” my voice breaks in sync with my heart when i see his eyes. his expression is hard, but there’s a hint of softness and worry that makes me want to crumble.

“i already have someone in my life that is stupidly brave, y/n.” he drops his cleaning supplies and grabs my hand.

i squeeze his hand ever so slightly. “yeah?”

“i... i don’t want you to be that person. i want you to be cautious.” he rubs my hand with his thumb.

“that’s just not me.” i swallow.

“i don’t wanna lose you. i just got you; i can’t lose you.” he reiterates.

i sit all the way up. i hesitate, my eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips, and in one swift motion, i close the distance. despite the butterflies in my stomach, i’m calm. i pull back quietly, letting out a slow breath.

he doesn’t say a word. we both already know what he’s thinking. he’s extra gentle when he resumes cleaning my wound. when he’s finished, he just looks at me for a second, and then gets up to go put the supplies away.

nerves course through my. i clear my throat and call out. “sam?”

he turns around. “hm?”

“don’t leave me.” i shake.

he walks back over and wraps me in a tight hug, kissing my forehead. “i won’t.”

—————————————

thank you guys sooo much for the overwhelming support on this series! if you like what you see, you could go ahead and follow me ;)

here’s my tag list for this series!@patrickfluegers @vicmc624 @vampire7595 @heyyy-hey-babyyy @eternal-maniac

#sam x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester one shot #sam winchester #sam and dean #sam winchester imagine #supernatural #supernatural imagines

[ghostbustermelanieking]

a messy, messy commentary on tma characters and morality (made up mostly of my own misconceptions)

i've had some very interesting misconceptions while mentally trying to calculate which tma characters have killed people (answer: almost all of them) and which haven't (this was meant to be in the vein of my "how many episodes characters appear in" post but it spiraled in the opposite direction, which was my own fault cause i didn't check the wiki until now)

some assorted thoughts in this process:

considering only major characters? literally almost all of them have killed people like obviously: jonahlias, daisy, gertrude robinson, jurgen leitner, basira, helen, etc. and jon.

also tim. i suppose this could be debated, since it falls under the realm of "were these avatars of the strangers human?" (no but also jon has only killed avatars, and so if jon counts, than tim killing nikola and the other dancer whatevers certainly counts.) but even if you dont count that! a) i am almost certain there were like skinned human things in the unknowing that jon said couldn't be saved, who certainly died in the explosion if they weren't already dead. they couldn't be saved, of course, but they still probably died. and b) considering your views on the coma, tim killed jon. considering jon was too human to emerge from that coma unscathed, and was pretty much entirely dead, it could be said that jon died because tim pressed the detonator.

so by my (original, wrong) count, i thought that melanie, martin, and sasha are the only characters in this podcast to never directly kill anyone. and considering that melanie spent most of a season trying to off elias and martin has repeatedly goaded jon into killing avatars/even picked some out specifically, it may not be entirely fair to say they've never ever been involved in killing anyone?

in the midst of drafting a post musing on these three characters who have not killed anyone + isnt it weird that sasha probably only avoided killing someone because she died immediately, i remembered something and said "GEORGIE" out loud while mentally cursing myself for not thinking of that

georgie, to our knowledge, has not killed anyone yet, despite being marked by the literal godly embodiment of death. however the podcast is not over and there are plenty of episodes left

in the midst of considering this new georgie development, i then realized that sasha DID in fact kill someone -- timothy hodge in season 1! in season 1. i'm actually surprised this isn't talked about more. perhaps because i have not looked at it this way before.

in the middle of drafting THIS post, i remembered that melanie does in fact kill things, at least if i'm interpreting the accounts of the flesh attack right. (basira says they "took them out.") so i am very very dumb.

soooooo by my count, if we count martin helping jon kill avatars in season 5, than georgie barker is the only major character in this podcast who has never killed anyone. (if you don't, then it's martin and georgie, but that's debatable.) and again... we still have many episodes left for georgie and martin to kill people

so yeah. originally the point of this long rambly post was supposed to be musing on the morally grey tones of ALL the characters, even those who have the best of intentions in mind, and how complex this sort of character development is, and how well it fits into horror. but it ended up being a recount of the many many ways that i have misremembered this podcast and the character histories of like everyone. the relisten i am planning over hiatus should be very useful lol

#this is a mess lol but i figured all these thoughts should go SOMEWHERE yknow #tma #the magnus archives

[dysfunctionalnerd]

I was wondering ... how would Randall react to Evil! Layton? or Monocle! Layton(by the way your drawings are amazing!)

ahhh thank u so much!! that means so much to me ;u; oh my GOSH MONACLE LAYTON!!! i havent thought about him organically in too long sksksks

well so ok if i had to make layton evil at any point in time, the way id do it would be after unwound future. it would be about 2 years after he found randall, but in this scenario he never worked up the courage to call randall or go back and visit after he left Monte D'or so abrubtly, which means losing that friendship was already weighing on his heart. so then after UF, losing claire and luke in the span of the same week... its too much for him. Crying in his room one night, he says "so this is it then? am i destined to always lose the people i love? i will simply never love again." and he snaps. he gets cold and distant, doesnt allow the kindness of others to reach him. all he wants now is vengance, and this man has been wronged by soooooo many people.

The only person still living with him is flora at this point. at first she lets things slide. things like seeing hersh withdraw into his study for too long, or drink too late into the night. but then she notices he stays in his room for days at a time, clearly working on something, but he gets so rude when asked about what. shes always met with answers like "its none of your concern" or "dont ask questions you're not prepared to hear the answer to", until one day she really puts her foot down. Demands to know whats going on. Shes so worried. But hershel screams at her to go away. an ugly, terrible yelling nobody deserves. and its so cold she just,, runs away crying. she cant think of anybody to reach out for help. she doesnt know anybody, she was never allowed to go out and make friends.

until she remembers the stories luke told her about the man they saved in Monte D'or, and she remembers how softly hershel would smile the precious few times he mentioned he name randall.

so she pulls up a phone book and looks up a Randall Ascot. Its not hard considering he owns an entire fucking town. shes crying and scared and alone, and when randall picks up the phone, he is of course concerned. hes never met this girl, but nobody should by crying this much, and then his heart breaks when he realizes its hershel who did this. He was always hurt by how hershel never said goodbye, and never called again to rekindle their friendship. at first he doesn't want to come over, but flora begs him.

"please, randall, you have to help. I know i hardly know you but... nobody else can reach him, i just know it".

so he grabs the nearest train. tells flora take take it easy at a bougie hotel for a night while he makes the trip over, pays for everything ofc. the two meet up. randall falls in love with this girl in .5 seconds (yknow in that "ive only met this girl for 10 minutes but if anything were to happen to her id kill everyone in this room and then myself" kind of way). They decide to just go to hershels flat and knock. he doesnt answer. they knock again. nothing. randall gets worried. he breaks down the door, shouts for hershel. Nobodys there. the place is empty. they enter hershels study to make sure, but what they find horrifies them. a GIANT charlie kelly style board with a bunch of pictures of different people, mostly people connected to bill hawks, and red lines connecting them stand before the two, and they both know in their gut its a hit list of some kind.

so they run to parliment or whatever building it is those goverment people all stay in, hoping its not too late, hope maybe their suspicions arent true. Theyre horrified when they reach the front steps and theres no guards or anything. sirens are blaring. they run down the halls. injured soldier's and police are telling them to turn back, its not worth it, this man is unstoppable.

"please dont let it be hershel, please dont let it be hershel."

flora stops when they reach the big door. she looks up at randall, crying. "im sorry... but i cant go in. i dont want to face him like this."

randall hugs her, reassures her. tells her its ok to wait by the entrance, that everything will be ok.

Flora rushes off, and randall takes a deep breath. He opens the door where bill hawks office is supposed to be. Randalls heart sinks. in the big chair is hershel, a sword covered in red, and tied to chains too close to the fire place is a beat up bill hawks.

hershel greets him coldly, like strangers.

"ah hello there. im sorry, but the prime minister cannot assist you today. please come back later."

"hershel, what are you doing??? that sword.... have you??"

"killed someone? no..." he hops off his chair and points his sword to bill hawks, far too close to the neck. "no not yet. but if youd like, you can join me for the first one."

Randall picks up a pipe or something close to him. "i cant let you do this hershel... i know youre better than this."

"ah, but you see, thats the thing." his blade lightly touches bills neck. "i could be, but then... whats the point?" then he scoffs, and pulls his sword away, pointing it towards randall in a battle stance. "never mind, you could never understand."

and he charges. AND THE EPIC SWORD FIGHT BETWEEN HERSHEL AND RANDALL THAT WE WERE ROBBED OF COMENCES! Randall, between parrys, is in total disbelief. "Hershel, stop it! i know how youre feeling, but this isnt the solution! youre tired, and scared, and unbelievably hurt. youre in so much pain... this isn't going to end that pain!"

clink, parry

"you couldnt possibly know what im feeling. ive lost everyone. but its no matter."

for a moment it looks like hershel is about to pin randall down, but he swoops away at the last minute.

"No, please hershel, you cant think like that!! youre not alone!! not anymore!! You didnt give up on the masked gentleman... let me return the favor!"

hershel gasps at this, and hesitates. its enough for randall to knock hershels sword out of his hands, and pin him to the ground. Hershel is afraid, his eyes are wide.

"r-randall, stop it!! leave me alone!"

"no!" randall throws the pipe he fought with aside. "not until you make things right!" he starts crying, his tears spill on hershels shirt. "not until i get my best friend back..."

hershel can't take it anymore. He screams, and starts crying uncontrollably. that ugly crying you reserve for your worst moments, and randall softens his grip on hersh, changes it so hes hugging his friend. And hershel just cries and cries and cries.

"i... i just dont want to live like this anymore..." he sobs.

"hershel.... oh hershel, im so, so sorry."

and they continue to cry. eventually randall asks what happened, how it got to this. hershel explains the events of the last few years. how luke left. how bill hawks sent men to beat him to an inch of his life 8 years ago, so really this is just him returning the favor. they talk it out.

"hershel... you owe flora an apology"

and hershel starts crying even more. "oh no, how could i do this to her?? im a monster..."

"nonsense! shes just worried about you, we all just want you to be ok. give her time, you two will be ok."

so slowly, randall convinces hershel to take his hand and walk out before some real irreverasble damage is done. they dont untie bill tho :) hershel comes face to face with flora at the entrance. starts stuttering some words, but jever gets around to saying anything bc flora hugs hershel so tightly, and cries into his chest. "professor i was so worried..."

"i.... im so sorry...."

and thats it!! the police dont do anything bc i dont believe in them, hawks eventually gets voted out. they all go home and randall decides to stay with hershel until he find a therapist. then decides to stay with him until he starts smiling again, then because i mean whos gonna help out with flora?? and then bc honestly hershel, this place is a mess! and then,,,,, well,,,,,, yknow,, 👀👀

#THIS IS SO LONG IM SO SORRY #professor layton #hershel layton #randall ascot #ranlay #flora reinhold #this is a fucking fanfic outline i stg #now i might actually write this skskksks #its a little messy and all over thenplace sorry i went on an adhd rant there sksskksk #gosh thank u for asking its been so long since i like info dumped like this aaaaaa