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#but if i made any mistakes it's MY fault!!
ceilidho · 22 hours
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take me home, country road
[ao3]
You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 12) [note: trigger warning for a pretty rough spanking scene with a belt and minimal aftercare. if you need to, you can skip to the midway point (there's a line between the first half and second).]
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He keeps your hands tied behind your back on the ride home.
All that does is confirm the fact that he must know. Graves must have tracked him down or perhaps he was approached by someone who did consider your sudden arrival in town suspicious. Why else would the sheriff chase you all the way into the mountains on horseback and then take you back with him? He would’ve within his rights to leave your thieving self to wander alone in the woods and succumb to the elements.
John doesn’t say a word the first hour of the ride back. You can feel the anger emanating from him though. He almost shakes with it. His anger somehow upsets you more than whatever is left to come. 
“Anytime you wanna start talkin’, I’m all ears,” John finally says, breaking the silence. 
You keep your lips pressed together, stubbornly silent. There’s no use giving yourself away before you’ve learned how much he knows. You haven’t built this life of yours with loose lips. 
“I don’t know what in the Sam Hill has gotten into you,” he continues, and his voice is cobblestone tread rough in the night. “Running off all by yourself. There ain’t nothing out in these parts except outlaws and highwaymen. There are men out here that’d love to get their hands on a woman like you—not even a knife to defend yourself with. You haven’t even got a scrap of food on you, never mind water. You’d’ve been dead in a week if the men out here hadn’t picked you off themselves.”
His words make your stomach ache. You know that there are worse things out there. A thousand gruesome ways to die. You’re less of a lady than John might think—you’ve heard stories. You’ve brushed close to that reality yourself. You wonder how he’d take it if you were to tell him about what had happened back east. 
Maybe running away this time hadn’t been your smartest idea, but it had been your only. You can’t fault yourself for the instinct to survive. 
“I know,” you mumble, dropping your chin to your chest. 
“You gonna explain to me why you stole my horse and ran off in the first place?” he asks. 
It’s the strangest interrogation you’ve ever heard of—sitting on the same horse with your back to the man questioning you and your hands tied together at the wrists. You wonder if you leaned back whether you’d feel his heart beating furiously in his chest. 
You remain mulishly silent though, reticent to answer the question.
“Maybe I’ve been spoiling you,” he continues, trying to rationalize it to himself. “After the fuss you put up those first few days, I thought a bit of structure and discipline would do you well, and it did. Giving you a bit of slack was my mistake.”
You frown at that. Those don’t sound like the words of a man with any knowledge of the circumstances leading to you running off. He might not even have come across Graves at all in the hours since the man made his appearance in the general store. Otherwise, you can’t imagine how he wouldn’t make the connection. 
Still, you can’t make yourself come right out and say it, even though every iota of your being aches to let the truth out. Call it nerves overpowering the need to be truthful and good. You vacillate between honesty and self-preservation, but each avenue feels like being dropped into a nest of vipers. 
But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. If he knew, he wouldn’t question you like this. It’s a boon you can’t give up, not yet. Not when the thought of his inevitable righteous fury fills you with dread and self-loathing. 
“I don’t have to explain myself,” you spit out suddenly, and it’s not you saying those words but something ugly and sad in you. “You’re not my owner.”
“I damn sure am your husband though,” John growls, winding his free hand around your hair to tug you back into his chest. “And I know these parts far better than you, little miss. Beyond running off on me for no good reason when I thought we put your reticence behind us, you went and put yourself in danger the likes of which you couldn’t even fathom.”
“I’m not an idiot,” you snap. “I know what men are like.”
“You’re telling me you pulled that stunt knowing what kinda danger is out there in the woods?”
“I wasn’t thinking!”
“I know you weren’t,” John grunts. “That’s the issue.” 
The rest of the ride home is uncomfortably quiet. John keeps one hand clamped on your waist while the other holds the reins of both horses, the two walking alongside each other back down the trail towards the house. The ride home is a lot longer than the ride out into the woods since John refuses to let either of them go faster than a slow trot while your hands are tied behind your back. 
He snorts in derision at your suggestion to undo your binds. “That eager for your punishment?” 
That gets you to zip your lips. 
When you get drowsy, John tips your head back and makes you sip from his waterskin. His hand fits carefully around your throat to hold your head in place, his fingers curling around to just graze the nape of your neck. Your throat pulses under his palm when you swallow. It’s far too intimate for how restless you feel, damn near shaking out of your skin, but it briefly shushes the voice in your head until he pulls his hand away. 
A shadow under the doorway of the house startles you at first before it takes a step into the faint light of the setting sun and you recognize the bristly blond of Simon’s shorn head and the red bandana shrouding the bottom half of his face. The tension ebbs back into you when you realize with creeping humiliation that the black horse you rode home on must belong to him. 
He watches the two of you approach with predictable disinterest, his eyes betraying nothing. The shame is excruciating. 
John brings the horse to a halt some feet from Simon, not bothering to greet him. You wonder if it’s the anger choking him or if this is just routine, men trading favors in silence lest a word in gratitude break the spell. After dismounting himself, John helps you down, all but picking you up and lifting you off the horse. 
Simon doesn’t say a word to either of you when he takes the reins from John’s hands, giving him only a curt nod and you a cursory glance before leading his horse away to mount. He doesn’t spare you a backwards glance before taking off back towards town. You watch him over your shoulder while John guides you up the porch steps and into the house, until the shape of him disappears into the horizon. Then the door shuts behind you. 
Alone now, your attention turns back to John. He stares down at you consideringly, a hand planted on the door he just shut until he lets it fall to his side. You can see the gears turning in his mind, weighing something out. 
It wouldn’t be right to call it anticipation; it’s not quite dread either. 
“I don’t make idle threats, you know,” he says, apropos of nothing. 
His words make you frown until you glance down to find him undoing his belt. Your blood turns to ice. He tugs the thick strap until it comes sliding out of each loop around his waist. The buckle rests heavy in his palm, thick fingers curling around it, and when he bends the belt in two, you already know that he intends to follow through with his threat from earlier, the one you said you’d gut him for.
“I’ll scream,” you warn, heart in your throat. It almost chokes you. “I mean it. I’ll scream like the devil.”
“Don’t go makin’ no empty threats now, darlin’,” he says in a low voice, almost taunting. You can hear the hard edge in his voice though. It’s not something he craves, but he’ll take it. 
“You touch me with that thing and I’ll never forgive you.” 
John’s eyes go hard. “I’ll just have to take that chance.” 
And then he’s on you.
He hooks an arm around your waist when you try to rush past him back out the door and it forces the breath out of you. 
You struggle as best you can with your hands tied behind your back, trying to wriggle out of his hold even as he heaves you up into his arms and climbs the staircase towards the bedroom. The steps creak under the added weight of you in his arms. The screams come tearing from your throat, ripping your vocal cords and nearly sending you into a coughing fit. 
“Let—me—go—” you shriek, kicking out wildly, hoping to catch something that’ll make him lose his balance. 
“All that squirmin’ ain’t making me feel more merciful,” he growls. 
John kicks the bedroom door open with his foot when he reaches the top of the staircase. The room looks ominous without the oil lamp lit, the shadows growing in the corners swallowing up the end table. The bed is just as you made it this morning, the sheets pressed tight and neat, and you only get a second to take that in before he marches towards the bed and throws you down onto it.  
You hit the bed hard, bouncing slightly. He sits down heavily enough to jostle you and when you try to roll away on instinct, a hand catches you by the bicep and pulls you back. He hauls you across the bulk of his thighs this time, far different from your first meeting back in the sheriff’s office all those weeks ago. Your feet don’t even touch the floor this time around, dangling in the air and flailing for purchase. 
“You brute—you bastard!” you screech.
“I’m not gonna be as charitable this time,” John says, yanking your dress up and your drawers down until your bare bottom is exposed. You gasp at the cold air, murmuring something like please, please, please under your breath. “Even if I knew why it was you decided to run off, that doesn’t excuse the fact that you did. You coulda been hurt or worse out there, darlin’, and I’d never have forgiven myself. I’m gonna make sure the lesson sinks in this time.”
He folds the leather belt to hold it in one hand, leaving the other to pin you down over his thighs, making sure you don’t wriggle out. The leather is cool at first when he drags it over your butt. It makes your breathing pick up. It’s so gentle that you can almost trick yourself into thinking that it’s all he intends to do. 
The first lash comes so quick that you barely register it. The second knocks the wind out of you, and then the pain sets in. 
It stings something fierce. Where his palm hurt that first time he bent you over his desk and spanked you, the belt burns. It goes deep and it lingers when he pulls the leather away from your stinging bottom. 
“Hurts like the dickens, don’t it?” John asks, not bothering to wait for confirmation before bringing the belt down again. “You’re lucky it’s only ten this time.”
You howl into the bedsheets, eyes tearing up and spilling down your cheeks. When you try to cover your ass with your bound hands, John grabs them and pins them to the small of your back. 
“What’ll you never do again?” he growls. 
“I—I’ll—”
“Say it, darlin’: I’ll never run off on my own again.”
“I’ll—n-never gonna—oh, it hurts, John—please—”
At some point, you must say the words he’s looking for. You lose count of how many times his belt has struck across your ass. Like thunder coming after lightning, you feel it and then you hear it. The sharp snap comes as a second wave of agony in and of itself. 
Your throat is stripped raw by the time it’s over. The aftermath finds you with a puddle of drool under your cheek, hair matted to your face. Sweat slicks the backs of your thighs and down your spine. Even the gentlest brush of John’s hand over your backside, the belt deposited off the side of the bed, makes you flinch, the skin there tender to the touch. You’ll surely feel it deep in your bones come sunrise. 
Too exhausted for anger, all you can do is lie there. It sits heavy in your stomach though, a pit at the center of you. You want to say, who gave you the right? The answer burns a ring around your finger though. You want to say, you don’t understand, it had nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with him and you. 
You can tell he wants to say something. It gets choked in his throat, but you can hear it in the way his breath draws in, like he’s trying to coax it from his chest but it simply won’t come out. 
“Stay right there,” John rumbles instead, shifting you onto the bed to let you lie on your belly. 
You moan in pain when he moves you, sniffling into your arms. The crook of your elbow is sticky with your tears and snot. 
The bed dips under his weight when he comes back. You flinch violently when he draws the skirt of your dress up again and smooths his hand over the tender cheeks of your backside, spreading a cool salve over your skin. The first touch of his hand makes you hiss, tears beading in the corners of your eyes again, but then the cool sinks in, alleviating the ache. 
He does that for another few minutes in silence. Gentle, tentative touches, only stopping when the salve has been spread evenly over your bottom. He’s quiet when he shifts you up the bed until your feet are no longer dangling off the end. You’re distantly aware of him taking off your shoes and tucking you into bed, but the events of the day have finally gotten the better of you. It would be easier to push a boulder up a hill than crack even one of your eyelids open.
Time passes slowly; sluggishly. Your thoughts can’t quite catch up with it, either too quick or too slow. You’re stuck in thoughts of the desert, caught in a sandstorm that manifests too suddenly for you to take cover. All you can do is close your eyes and wait it out. 
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Morning comes like a brutal summoning into the waking world. 
It hurts, but you expected that. Before your eyes even open, you’re aware of a throbbing pain coming from your backside. You wince when you shift to your side, squeezing your eyes tight. You contemplate rolling over and taking your chances with John’s temper. The thought isn’t as appealing in the light of day though. 
It takes some time to get out of bed and when you do, you have to step tentatively from floorboard to floorboard, the ache making it decidedly uncomfortable. You can’t imagine what sitting down will be like. Riding a horse is just out of the question. 
From the bedroom window, you see John standing in front of the house with Simon, back again not even twelve hours later. With the window closed, you can’t hear their conversation, nor can you read their lips. Their exchange doesn’t last long though. After another minute or so, and a nod goodbye, Simon walks back over to his horse standing nearby and lifts himself up and over onto the saddle, taking off towards town. 
When John turns back towards the house, you see him glance up towards the bedroom window where you stand. The circles beneath his eyes are dark, pronounced. On another day, you might’ve ducked out of sight or jumped away from the window, but now you hold his gaze. 
He breaks your stare first this time, heading back inside. It’s less satisfying than you thought it’d be. 
You spend the day resting in bed and avoiding John for the most part. He spends the majority of the day out of the house. You hear him downstairs in the kitchen around midday, fixing himself up something to eat, and you listen attentively to the scrape of the chair across the floor and the pan on the stovetop. Like the day he brought you home, he brings you up a tray only to leave it at the door, rapping the door with his knuckles to let you know before heading back downstairs. 
When he comes up for bed, you’re already lying down with your back to the door, the oil lamp left unlit. John doesn’t say anything to you as he changes into his nightwear. He smells fresh when he climbs into bed, like he bathed in the creek out in the woods. You breathe in deeply, trying to keep your breath quiet enough to not disturb the silence. The pillow under your head is saturated with his scent. You turn your nose into it when he lies down on his back instead of curling into you like he usually does. 
Your chest aches at that simple denial. There’s a wall between the two of you and you know where it came from. Any trust that you’d built lies in ruins now. 
Perhaps that’s not quite right though. It’s a romantic notion that you’ve been building something together all this time, but it doesn’t feel right now that you have the wherewithal to look back and reflect. All this time, whenever you’ve touched, you’ve held him steadfast and at an arm's length away, stopping two degrees short of intimacy. 
Deliberately effusive; and worse, you’ve called it affection. 
The tenderness in your heart is the worst of it. There’s a bruise there, and it’s been there awhile. It’s only grown with your recent troubles. You tell yourself every year that you’ll air it out come spring, but then the winter comes and it freezes over again.  
The pillow under your chest grows damp with your tears. 
Your dress the next morning is cornflower blue. The wheatfields are golden stalks swaying in the breeze. It’s a pleasanter day than how you feel. 
The ride into town is as painful as you thought it might be. You wince with every stride, your bottom still tender as a rose. John’s arm tightens around your waist when you squirm, like you might slide off the saddle and try to flee again, and you bite your lip to hold back the urge to snap. 
The little bit of independence you’d grown to enjoy is snatched away from you. You expected that as well, but that loss of privilege comes with a biting ache. You fight the urge to gnash your teeth and bark at him that you’re not a child when he grips you under the arm and leads you down the road. It wouldn’t do you any good. 
When John leaves you off at the general store, you’re surprised to find Kate back, hale and hearty. She looks up when the chime over the door jingles and raises her eyebrows in greeting. The sound makes you flinch, memories coming back unbidden. 
You look over your shoulder to say something to John before he leaves, but the door is already closing behind him by the time you turn around. Your lips are pursed on a word that dissolves in your mouth. It has a bitter aftertaste. 
“Thought you wouldn’t be back for a few more days,” you say instead, turning back to Kate. There’s already a chair pulled up for you by the wall and you make yourself comfortable there, grimacing at first when your sore backside touches the wood before settling in. 
She shrugs. “Plans changed. Gaz and I made it back late last night.”
You frown. “Gaz?”
“Kyle Garrick. Sorry—slip of the tongue. You’ve met him already. He used to go by Gaz way back when.”
“Way back when?”
“Not my story to tell. You should ask one of them, if you’re curious.”
You are, but not enough to ask. “Maybe.”
The two of you lapse into silence after that exchange. Before leaving the house, you remembered to bring with you some needles and wool to pass the time. They’re not as familiar in your hands as you’d like them to be, but you suppose, barring the possibility of Graves or another bounty hunter showing up in town to cart you off, you’ll have time to learn. 
The thought leaves you anxious. It feels distinctly more possible now. 
“You met Miles while I was away?” Kate asks, out of the blue.
Your head comes up at her question. “Miles?”
“He was minding the store for me while I was away. Said you came in the other day.”
You swallow reflexively. “Oh. Yes, I suppose I did meet him. I didn’t stay long, since you were gone and all.”
She hums and looks back down at the book in front of her. You feel nervous all of a sudden. 
“He said you were very helpful,” she says abruptly, breaking the silence. You flinch. “Told me some gentleman came by with a warrant for a murder back east and you were kind enough to take it to your husband for him so he could keep minding the shop.”
Your throat constricts. She pins you under her gaze, unblinking eyes staring into yours but not looking for anything. Wispy blonde bangs brush along her forehead when she tilts her head ever so slightly. 
You nod instead of answering. 
“Did you give it to him?” she asks.
“I didn’t have a chance to. The day got away from me,” you say tersely. 
“I heard something about that. Kyle said John had to borrow Simon’s horse the other day. Said something about him taking off in a hurry.”
Again, you don’t answer. It feels like without knowing it, you’ve crossed over a threshold. 
“Do you still have it?” Kate prompts when again you don’t respond. You don’t tell her that you don’t because in all the fuss the other day, it must have slipped out of your pocket and drifted off into the wind. “The warrant?”
“No,” you whisper, shaking your head. 
“That’s alright. I have a good enough idea about what it might’ve said.” 
Sweat beads on your upper lip. She all but says it outloud. You’re as still as a ferrotype under her gaze, imprinted in place, unable to move so much as a muscle or force a word past your stiff lips. 
“You’re under no obligation to tell me or anyone,” Kate says, and her voice is suddenly gentle, softer than you’ve ever heard it before. “I’m sure you had your reasons. I won’t be telling John, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Oh. Thank you,” you breathe, throat so tight that the words almost don’t come out. 
It’s the closest you’ve come to admitting to it, tangentially or not, and even now it’s spoken only out of the corner of your mouth. You don’t think you have it in you to recite the events sequentially. Even in the privacy of your memory, it comes piecemeal, in fragmented images that flicker across your mind because maybe to remember it whole would be too much. 
You don’t say much more after that, and neither does Kate. That wasn’t the point of bringing it up, you think. You'd know if it was. 
When John comes to fetch you at the end of the day, you leave without saying goodbye to Kate. Only a stiff smile before heading out on your way. If she returns your smile, you don’t notice it. To John, you simply duck your head and follow him out the door, letting him help you up onto the horse without a word. 
If it bothers him that you refuse to speak to him, he doesn’t show it. 
It’s so many steps back that you might as well be back where you started. Maybe even further back, a voyage gone so wrong that when you look over your shoulder, you can’t make heads or tails of where you came from. The trees from the other side of the trail never look quite the same. 
If you could open your mouth and say it, you would. If you knew he’d listen. But you don’t think John is that kind of man. Against the gold of the setting sun, he cuts a figure from times of yore. He speaks plain while you tend to speak in fricatives and bilabial stops, incapable of enunciating the words. 
You feel like a wound on the world. Getting it wrong again and again. 
It’s an old pain, one that started back when you were too small to hold it all. Now, you’ve grown large enough to hold it, though it holds you back in turn. You remember your parents studiously ignoring first creation like some noxious cloud billowing from the chimney. There’d been too many children for them to care about the runt. Shipped off to your aunt’s and uncle’s just for the cycle to repeat itself. 
It’s an old grief, this one, friendly because it nudges at your hips when you brush by, striking in the blue-green. And when it burns, it burns.
“John, I—” you say when he helps you down back at the house. 
He stares down at you, waiting you out. Your mouth goes dry, the truth beyond your grasp again. Your heart aches when his brows furrow and the lines around his eyes crease again, frustration welling beneath the surface. 
You understand. It sits under your skin too. 
"Go inside," he says instead when you don't go on. "I'll bring in the horses and start supper."
Your God sits at the edge of the bed, wholly lacking praise. It’s not His fault that it’s been awhile. These days, you can hardly muster up the energy to say hello. You gargle saltwater before you bathe and scrub your skin free of blood, waiting for the next morning to come.
And you think, lying on your side while John sleeps on the other side of the bed, wouldn’t it be lovely to get it right now, rather than in retrospect?
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navybrat817 · 2 days
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In a Red Dress
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky has to debrief after a mission, so you decide to stop in for a visit. In a red dress.
Word Count: Over 3k
Warnings: Established relationship, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, flirting, teasing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Happy FriYAY! I started this in January for @tumblin-theworldaway and finally finished it today. Love you, Aqua! I hope you can relax soon. Could be considered a follow up to With a Bang. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Your heels clicked along the floor as you left the elevator, reminding yourself for the umpteenth time that it wasn't Bucky’s fault that his team extended their mission for another day. Unforeseen circumstances were to blame, completely out of his control. You also couldn't hold it against him that he had to debrief after he messaged you that he arrived back home safely and unharmed. It was part of the job. Still, you missed him and wanted a bit of attention.
Which was why you showed up at S.H.I.E.L.D. in a silky red dress and Bucky’s dog tags under your coat. No bra, no panties. Which he realized when you walked into the conference room, unannounced, and removed your coat.
It was fun to put the fire in his steel eyes.
“Welcome home, Bucky,” you smiled as the room went silent. “Don’t mind me. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
Your burly boyfriend was out of his seat and didn't tear his gaze away from you, the tension thick as you tossed the coat away. Today was a good day for your self confidence. You wore it like a second skin, feeling as beautiful on the outside as you did inside. You knew you looked good enough to eat and you wanted him to devour you.
And as much as you loved him in his black shirt and tactical pants, it hid the wall of muscle you wanted to trace with your hands and tongue.
“Hey, baby. Fancy seeing you here,” he said, his eyes dropping to your chest. Your nipples hardened against the fabric and you wished he’d latch his mouth to them. “And speaking of home, I thought I was going to meet you there.”
Your shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I got impatient since you were late. Plus I wanted to show you my dress,” you said, doing a happy twirl. It was reminiscent of New Years. The soft fabric hugged your body tight like your black dress did, but this one left little to the imagination. “What do you think?”
Steve, ever the good friend, averted his gaze, but a scowl crossed Bucky’s handsome face when you both realized that other agents looked your way. You hadn't expected to be the center of attention for anyone else, but it didn't matter to you if others looked. Why would you want them when Bucky had you under his spell?
At least they were smart enough to look away when Bucky’s metal hand clenched.
“Well? Do you like it? I thought the dog tags were a nice touch,” you added, running a finger along them when he remained silent. “They really do go well with everything.”
“Come here,” he said, beckoning you with a metal finger. You knew he meant business when he didn't use his dominant hand. “Now.”
You maintained an aura of innocence as you walked toward him, watching him his lips as your hips swayed.
“I can see your nipples through your dress,” he said low enough for just the two of you, but poor Steve with his enhanced hearing likely picked up on it. “And I’m pretty sure I didn’t give you permission to wear a dress like that in front of other guys.”
Any other guy who said that to you would've been smacked, but hearing it from him only made your eyes fill with amusement as you tilted your head. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to wear this, Sergeant.”
“Baby,” he whispered. You knew what calling him by his rank did to him.
“I should be able to wear what I want and when I want to. We both know that,” you continued, sliding your finger down his chest instead of poking it like he expected. “But you have my permission to break someone's fingers if they try to touch what belongs to you. Because I do belong to you.”
Your declaration fueled the fire within. There was no hesitation on your part. No doubt. And after being apart for a short time, you wanted him to hear you say you were his girl.
“Yeah, you do. You’re mine,” he said with a raspy touch of confidence that would’ve soaked your panties had you been wearing any. “And I’m all yours, but I still need to debrief.”
You huffed, but the conviction in his tone was admirable. “Fine. I’ll just wait here,” you said when he frowned. Both of you knew the classified information wasn’t meant for your ears, yet no one spoke up for you to leave. Were they afraid of pissing your boyfriend off? “You know, I really do love that grumpy look of yours. It gets me so wet.”
Bucky’s cheek twitched when one of the men coughed. “You're being a fucking tease.”
“Is it teasing if I let you have me?” You asked, tapping your chin. “Teasing you would be letting you go to bed with blue balls.”
Wordlessly, he lifted a hand and clutched the dog tags. He yanked on them hard enough to move you closer, his eyes not leaving yours when you gasped and shivered from the heat-filled look. You considered it a win that you didn’t collapse. Because he was going to destroy you and you’d love every second of it.
“Be very careful what comes out of your mouth next, baby,” he warned.
You smiled, more than ready to give him one more push. “I’m more interested in what’s supposed to go inside my mouth.”
His nostrils flared when you opened your mouth and showed him your tongue and throat. He put a hand on the back of your neck and tilted your head back, lightly nipping at your skin below your jaw. “I should put you on your knees and fuck your throat in front of everyone. Or put you over my knee and spank you ‘til you squirm. Show ‘em that you really are mine.”
You giggled, a soft and tempting sound. “Why fuck my throat when my pussy is nice and wet for you?”
“Gentlemen. I think the Bravo Conference Room is available. Let’s finish this up there,” Steve announced, his chair scraping against the floor and pulling you out of your spell. “Told you that you should’ve just gone home, jerk.”
“Fuck off, punk,” Bucky said, keeping a firm hand on you so you couldn’t look at any of the men filing out. The smirk he gave you was nothing short of predatory once the door clicked shut, leaving the two of you alone. “Since you need my cock so badly that you can’t wait until I get home, bend over that table and let me give it to you.”
Your giggle quickly died in your throat when you realized he was serious. “You’ve never fucked me in one of the debriefing rooms. Someone could walk in,” you reminded him.
Yeah, you showed up wearing what you did. Yeah, you teased him. But it was all in good fun. He wouldn’t actually fuck you on the table.
Right?
Your cheeks grew hot at the next words out of his mouth. “You think I give a shit about if someone walks in?”
He let go of your neck and grabbed your wrist, carefully dragging you to the table. You loved every part of him, but something about his unashamed want of you made your heart soar. Maybe it was because of how much he healed and allowed himself to have a piece of happiness. That some part of him from his past, the man he used to be, surfaced and blended in with who he was now.
Heaven sent and survived the depths of Hell.
“Now, I should spank your ass raw for this little stunt you pulled. Letting them see you in this dress,” he said without any real threat behind his words. “But I won’t do that until we’re home.”
“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” you smiled, expecting him to bend you over. But he brought a hand to your cheek instead. “Bucky?”
His gaze moved to your lips as he murmured, “Not fucking you until I kiss you.”
His mouth met yours not in a frenzy, but with a smile. The kind that told you how happy he was to be back with you. It wasn’t long before he shifted, the hand on your cheek slipping to your chin so he could deepen it. The soft slip of his tongue ignited your entire body, feeling his heart beat faster as you brought a hand to his chest. A reminder that he was alive, home, and loved you.
You loved him, too.
Your eyes stayed shut for a few seconds after he pulled away. “Missed you, Bucky,” you whispered.
“Missed you, too,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “Now bend over.”
The air rushed from your lungs at the switch from want to tenderness to need, your chest pressed against the table as he pushed your dress. Part of you wondered if he would’ve made good on his threat and fuck you in front of the other agents. He liked to toe the line of wanting to show others you were his and not wanting them to see intimate parts of you.
Which made you wonder what he’d do if someone walked in. He said he didn’t give a shit, but would he stop and try to cover your body with his own? Or would he keep fucking you?
You wouldn't mind either way.
“Spread ‘em,” he ordered, which you immediately obeyed. The low whistle made you shut your eyes before he dragged a finger along your exposed slit. “Didn’t even bother covering your pretty pussy with underwear. Probably best since you would’ve ruined them with how wet you are.”
“You’ve ruined all of my panties, Bucky,” you said, the distinct sound of his belt buckle and pants zipper making you moan. “And I’m ready for you to fuck me.”
“Yeah? Your pussy ready to stretch around my cock?” He asked, making you shriek when he unexpectedly brought his flesh hand down hard on your ass. He only used the metal when you were in real trouble. “You better not have fucked yourself with a toy before you got here.”
“I didn’t! I haven’t even touched myself,” you promised before he stretched over your back. “I just need you in me.”
“That’s what I like to hear. And though you interrupted my debriefing and I may need to stab a teammate or two, you’re still my good girl. And good girls deserve rewards,” he growled in your ear, nipping it for good measure as you moaned. The head of his cock teased your entrance, your core clenching in anticipation. “I’ll fuck you and you’ll come all over me, just like you want and just like I need. And you’ll take it ‘til I’m done with you.”
You reveled in being his good girl, even when you were bad. How no one else could take his cock the way you could. How he made you soak your sheets day and night with your essence because being fucked by Bucky Barnes made you gush like a geyser. It was obscene.
“I’m your good girl and I’ll take everything you give me,” you said sweetly, knowing he’d fuck you whether you said it or not. “So let my pussy welcome your cock home, please?”
The soft kiss to your neck was almost like an apology before he pushed into you, both of you moaning. He’d check later to make sure you weren’t sore since he didn’t stretch you at all, but the slight ache when he bottomed out always bordered more on pleasure than pain. The overwhelming sensations of him inside you made your eyes roll back and he hadn’t even started thrusting.
“So fucking warm. And wet,” he grunted in your ear when he finally moved, his pants rubbing against your bare thighs. “Jesus fuck, you’re soaking me.”
Bucky robbed you of your breath when he leaned up and gripped your hips, hammering into you. You tried to grip the table, but all you could do was let him pull you back and forth. He was relentless like this, powerful, dominant. Making you take it, just like he said you would. Funny how minutes ago you were the one confidently teasing him and now you were a whining, needy mess. All because his cock shut your brain off.
You didn’t need to think like this anyway. You could be his doll, just for him to play with and love. In your pretty red dress or nothing at all.
“Harder, Sergeant,” you begged, your moans spurring him on.
“Not hard enough for you? Needy little thing,” he groaned, the sound of him burying himself inside you over and over echoing in your ears. “Missed this cunt. Missed you.”
Your pussy gripped him tight, the heady bliss making your vision blur. “Missed you. M… Missed your cock,” you slurred.
He chuckled, not slowing his pace as he leaned back down to tickle your cheek with his scruff. “So fucking cute when you get drunk on my cock.”
You wondered some days where he learned to talk dirty before you remembered that you had a large hand in that. He loved telling you how greedy your pussy made him. How he loved watching his spend slide out of you so he could fuck it back in. How he’s shocked some days that he can fit inside you, so he must’ve turned you into a perfect cocksleeve.
His cock made your mind down, but your pussy made him run his mouth.
“Gonna make you sit on it when we get home. Fuck, gonna make you ruin the sheets when I fuck you into the mattress,” he rambled, making you moan louder. You didn’t care who heard. Let them hear what he did to you. What he turned you into: his needy slut. “Tell me you want it.”
“I want it,” you moaned, his thrusts pushing your breasts harder against the table, your nipples hard and aching for him to touch them. He would later. You could wait. But you couldn’t wait to fall over the precipice. “‘M gonna come.”
“Do it. Won’t stop you,” he encouraged. He no doubt felt how close you were with how you clenched around him, your back starting to arch. “C’mon, baby. Come all over me.”
Your eyes fluttered as your body tensed, your walls pulsing around him your orgasm surged like a tidal wave. The ripples tore through you, ebbing and flowing as you moaned his name. If you could drown in pleasure, you’d want his name to be the last word that spilled from your lips.
“That’s my girl,” he praised as your limbs went lax.
You throbbed around him until he pulled out, making you whimper since he didn't come. You wanted him to finish inside you. He had you on your back with your legs spread wide before you could beg for it, keeping your dress up as he speared you once again. He thrust fast, needing his release just as badly as you needed yours.
“Need to see your face when you milk my cock,” he grunted, licking his thumb and bringing it to your clit. You whined, jerking underneath him as he rubbed the swollen nub. “Oh, stay still. You can give me one more.”
You almost denied him before you felt the coil tighten within you again. You never thought you could have back-to-back orgasms until you started sleeping with him. But it shouldn’t have surprised you. He played you like his favorite instrument and you were his good girl.
You could give him one more.
“Come with me,” you panted, staring into his darkened eyes as his face twisted in ecstasy only you could provide him. “Please.”
He couldn’t resist that last bit of begging.
The waves crashed again, adding to your first high, as his mouth opened in a groan, filling you in hot spurts. Watching him tip over the edge was a sight to behold, his cheeks tinged as his hips stilled and both of you tried to catch your breath. He laid across you after a moment, the weight of him making you sigh.
“Welcome back,” you smiled as your breathing evened out.
He stayed inside you as he brushed his lips against yours. You were going to make a mess all over the table when he pulled out, but it was worth any grief either of you got. “Good to be back,” he whispered, his hand on your cheek again in a tender display as his eyes scanned your face. “So beautiful.”
“Me fucked out or the dress?” You smiled.
“Both,” he smiled back, your face warm.
“Thank you,” you breathed, your heart still racing fast. You suddenly wished you were in bed so he could properly hold you. But he’d have you home soon enough for that. “Hope I didn't get you into any trouble,” you added. That was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Steve gets it,” he assured you, briefly closing his eyes when you brushed your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry we got back late. He’s right. I should've just gone right home.”
Your heart clenched a little at that. Missions were important and not easy on either of you, but it was his job. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you made it home safely,” you said, arching your back. The table wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were too fucked out to care.
You also didn't want to be apart from him since he was back.
He wrapped an arm underneath you to ease some of your strain. “Still teased me by showing up like this. I might fuck your throat and put you over my knee tonight,” he groaned, squeezing a breast through your dress before he straightened out the dog tags. “But then I’m going to hold you after and not let go.”
You smiled, looking forward to it. “Yes, Sergeant.”
And you'd be sure to thank Steve later for clearing out the room so you could welcome your man home.
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Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business! Hehe. 😇 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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archiveikemen · 23 hours
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『Surprise Bag』 Story Sale: Prologue
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This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection and is not intended as replacement for official localisation. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
Warnings and FAQ
Ever since becoming the Fairytale Keeper, I’ve built some level of resistance to unusual happenings.
However, despite that, some strange things that happen in Crown still manage to surpass my expectations.
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“Jude” (Ellis): Good morning, Kate. I’m going to make you happy today too.
Kate: … Jude, uhh… did you suffer a blow to the head?
“Jude” (Ellis): Eh? I didn’t take any blows to anywhere, I’m feeling great.
Kate: What happened to your usual scumbag attitude?! Are you sick? Injured, perhaps? We must take you to the hospital at once!
“Ellis” (Jude): Tch, what’s the ruckus about?
“Jude” (Ellis): Oh, Jude.
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“Jude” (Ellis): Huh? Why is Jude me?
“Ellis” (Jude): That’s my line. Why are YOU me?
Kate: W-What?
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“Elbert” (Alfons): AHHA! This is getting awfully amusing.
Kate: Al… wait, Sir Elbert?!
Kate: Don’t tell me… the one behind you is Alfons?
“Alfons” (Elbert): … When I looked into the mirror, I saw that I turned into Al.
“Elbert” (Alfons): It’s interesting to look at myself objectively.
“Elbert” (Alfons): Oh, El. Please put in more energy when speaking. It’s disturbing to hear myself sound so depressed.
“Alfons” (Elbert): … Energy? … I’ll try.
“Alfons” (Elbert): … ahha.
“Elbert” (Alfons): It was a mistake on my part to expect energy from you.
Kate: Maybe, or not just maybe…
Kate: — Did Jude and Ellis, Alfons and Sir Elbert swap bodies!?
Kate: How did this happen…?
“Ellis” (Jude): Definitely that quack’s fault, I’m going to beat him up.
All members of Crown gathered to question Roger, who simply laughed at the situation.
Roger: My bad. I can’t believe it took effect this fast. Aren't I a genius?
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Victor: Don't say such things, Roger! Why did such a cute… I mean, serious thing happen?
Liam: Victor, you’re exposing your inner thoughts. Also, your words and facial expression don’t match.
Roger: I was conducting research on whether a curse can be transferred if I swapped the bodies of a cursed person with a normal person.
William: Your insatiable inquisitive mind is truly eye opening, but shouldn't your test subjects be a cursed person and a normal person instead?
Roger: I thought it’d be dangerous if something were to happen to someone who isn’t cursed, so I decided to experiment on these guys first.
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Harrison: What do you take us for? We die just like normal people.
“Elbert” (Alfons): Let’s drown that four-eyed musclehead in the River Thames.
“Ellis” (Jude): Yeah. Tie some stone weights onto him and plop him in to make it quick.
Kate: Wait, please don't say such unsettling things with Sir Elbert and Ellis’ faces!
“Jude” (Ellis): But Roger is so cool for being able to make a drug like this.
Liam: … Now Jude is being a softie. Goodness, this is chaos!
Roger: Relax. I’ll produce an antidote if you let me collect the data I need.
Roger: … If I can produce an antidote, that means I can experiment on the others too.
Harrison: … You just said something disturbing.
Roger: I said nothing.
“Elbert” (Alfons): I must say, you have no rights to be bargaining with us. Pardon my vulgar language, but please die.
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Harrison: Woah, um… Liam? Oi, oi. — Is he asleep?
“Jude” (Ellis): I touched his head, sorry. I was curious to see if I can use Jude’s curse’s abilities.
Roger: Heh, the curse’s abilities remain in the body, huh. So I am a genius after all!
(This is getting out of hand…!)
Kate: Please give us the antidote immediately, Roger!
Kate: … Oh my goodness, what’s going to happen if this reaches Her Majesty's ears?
Roger: She might fire me for this.
Roger: … That’s why you should help keep an eye on them so word doesn't get out, lil lady.
Kate: Eh? Roger? Hey!
“Ellis” (Jude): Tch… useless. Getting fired just like that.
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“Jude” (Ellis): Oh, Jude, body can’t take cig—
“Ellis” (Jude): *cough*... tastes like shit. Ellis, you need to train yourself to take at least ONE cigar.
“Elbert” (Alfons): I could get away with a lot of bad things with this face, don't you think?
Alfons: … Is this spoon beautiful, Kate?
Kate: T-This is driving me insane…!
I so badly wanted it to be some horrible april fools joke, but the scene unfolding before my eyes showed otherwise.
At that point in time, I still didn't know.
— To be continued.
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Uh do you have any headcanons about Jeff and Liu's relationship (not as a loveship)? İn their past or after the accident. It could be both of them
I hope I didn't ask for anything difficult (╥﹏╥)
Hiiiii anon, okay so thank you so much first of all for asking.
I don't know do you mean my main AU or general headcanons, and that's totally my fault, so I'm just gonna use main AU if that's okay with you. If not and you want random headcanons, I apologize and I'll try again.
And don't worry at all, I'll be pleased to write!!
Also, people who ship Jeff and Liu, please stay the fuck away from me.
JEFF AND LIU'S RELATIONSHIP
Before that night
When Jeff and Liu were little, they were not only brothers, but also two really close friends. They would do everything together and support each other all the time. They were always there for each other while growing up.
When Liu was bullied as a child, Jeff helped him by beating up his bullies. Even then, it was obvious how much anger issued he had even as a child, but his parents didn't feel the need to do anything because they thought it was just a child's anger.
When they got a little older, Liu was always in Jeff's shadow among the students. Among the teachers, Jeff was always in the background.
Liu was constantly ridiculed by other students, and praised by teachers about what a good and polite kid he was. Jeff was a popular guy who got along well with other children, and the teachers hated him and constantly complained to his parents.
But they both had each other. They thought that they would overcome all the bad events they had experienced together and escape this life. They loved it, but it broke their hearts that their parents were a little too careless about some things. Especially when they didn't come to school shows because of work, Jeff was consoling his younger brother, who was sadder than he was, even though he was angry.
Jeff was constantly teasing with Liu, and Liu was telling him what a stupid person he was, but neither of them cared because they knew that neither of them was not serious.
The favorite of the family, of course, was Liu. Liu was always praised and Jeff was always scolded. Although Jeff didn't like it, Liu hated it even more. According to him, Jeff had his own achievements, and they should be appreciated.
They liked to play games together. They were organizing video game tournaments and betting. Even though Jeff was the one who taught Liu these things, Liu was a better gamer than him. Of course, this might also be due to things such as Jeff trying to kick the referee, who is an extra, while playing a football match.
Whenever Jeff hung out with his friends, he would never see Liu down because he was small and he would invite him to hang out with them. Liu was really grateful for this, but he began to refuse this offer after growing up, because Jeff's friends did not like him.
Jeff's only sensitive point was his younger brother Liu. People could insult him all they wanted, but when they said a word to Liu, they would find Jeff's fist in front of them.
They were both very dear to each other and they were the ones who understood each other the best.
The 5-year period from that night to their first meeting after
First of all, their relationship was completely broken off. Liu was dead, and Jeff was incredibly remorseful that he was the cause of this. That's why he visited his grave almost every week and told him about the developments in his life. If Liu were alive, he would have done exactly this.
But there was also something that Jeff didn't know. Liu wasn't dead. He was alive, he was breathing, and he hated Jeff. He wanted to kill Jeff and was determined to avenge his family.
For this reason, Liu followed Jeff for a while without showing himself in any way. He thought that he wanted to catch him at his most vulnerable moment, in fact, he did not realize that he missed his brother, no matter what mistakes he made.
When he saw that he was visiting his grave in a close to regular manner, he felt that he was drowning in many mixed emotions. But the most outweighing of these feelings was longing. Liu was missing his brother.
Jeff, who never admits his mistakes even though he knows he's wrong, would do anything to see Liu face to face just one more time and apologize. Because that was the thing he regrets the most in his life.
After following Jeff for a while and seeing what a miserable life he had, Liu decided that things couldn't stay this way any longer. Jeff needed him as much as ever.
But Liu wasn't sure what he would face. He didn't know how Jeff would treat him or how he would react to learning that he wasn't dead.
So he decided to take a hand in the situation. He started leaving notes and signs that could only belong to him. This had two purposes. If Jeff react them well, he would show himself after a while and they would become brothers again. If Jeff react it badly, he would have both taken revenge on him in a small way and he would return to his plan to kill Jeff.
And the result was a complete mess.
Jeff almost got even crazier. He thought that someone had found out secrets about Liu, and he was extremely aggressive towards everyone. Others were already tired of him and his behavior wasn't helping at all. He started attacking people more, experiencing mental breakdowns more often, and becoming thoroughly paranoid.
But when he visited Liu's grave, the situation was different. He started telling his memories of when Liu was alive and talking about how much he missed him. He was saying a copycat of him was for using him and how he would find this person and torture him to trying to do such a thing.
And he did as he told. Liu did not like birds since he was a a kid, and one day, while he was secretly watching Jeff at the grave, a bird came very close to him. When Liu was startled by this, he made a little noise, and Jeff instantly got on his guard and asked who was there.
Forced to show up eventually, Liu sarcastically apologized for his plan being foiled so early. Having seen Jeff for a while, he wasn't even half as surprised as he was. The only thing he wanted was to hug his brother, who he had to observe from a distance all this time.
Jeff, on the other hand, was in complete shock. At first he shouted that he was a hallucination and tried to harm him. However, due to the knife that slightly tangentially passed into Liu's hand, his hand bled slightly and he realized that the Liu he saw in front of him was real.
Jeff collapsed to the ground because his legs were refusing to carry him any further.
Thinking that he regretted doing this, Liu relented and slowly collapsed on the ground next to him. He hugged Jeff while crying and babbling apologies in a row. And after a while, he got this moment that he had been waiting for for years.
Years later, the two brothers had reunited. Liu's grave had enabled Jeff to make up for his mistakes for the second time. (Nina's part)
Currently
No matter how big mistakes have been made in the past, they have a relationship that can be considered good right now. Of course, it's not a normal relationship, but it's the healthiest human relationship Jeff has in his new life.
They're not staying together. Jeff stays in a cabin in the forest with proxies and a few staff members because he needs to stay under the control of Slenderman, and Liu has enough money to rent his own house since he writes anonymously as a job and is also successful in his job.
But they see each other often. Although they are usually supposed to meet in the forest because of Jeff's appearance, sometimes they go to the city or Liu's house together while Jeff is wearing a mask.
Liu didn't introduce him to anyone both because he dedicated her life to finding Jeff so he doesn't have anyone he's that close to, and even if he did, it would be too risky. Jeff, on the other hand, introduced Liu to everyone he knew. Of the proxies, the person Liu gets along with the best is Hoodie, and the person he gets along with the best in general is 'Eyeless' Jack.
They really have fun when they're together, and Jeff even manages to make someone as serious as Liu laugh. They care about each other and they will not allow any resentment to come between them again.
Jeff and Sully, on the other hand, don't get along very well. Although Sully still wants to kill Jeff, Jeff tries not to insult him because Liu and Sully have a good relationship now. While he's not very successful, at least he's trying.
At the moment, despite their past, it can be said that they have a fairly good sibling relationship.
Long ass post, sorry about that.
But I hope you enjoyed it!!
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A Goodbye to The Bad Batch
I don’t even know what to say first. Because this is goodbye, but it is also everything but. But I suppose I should start at the beginning.
Just a couple of years ago I found my love for Star Wars. My entire life, as far back as I can remember, my dad has tried to get me into the fandom. Now, he’s not a fan the exact same way some of us are, he’d only watched the saga and the Mandalorian, funnily enough I was the one to introduce him to The Clone Wars and beyond, but it’s been a joy in his life for a very long time. I was never interested in it when I was little, but then I got a little older and Star Wars started to capture my interest.
One random weekend, I believe in 2021 or 2022, I decided that I was going to watch all nine saga movies in those forty-eight hours, and then start on my goal to watch every show and the additional movies.
This is, without a shred of doubt, one of the greatest decisions I have ever made, and one that I will never regret. I would not be the person I am had I not given Star Wars a chance.
It would sound ridiculous to anyone anywhere else, but this has become such a safe place for me that I know I can be honest.
Everyone finds that one thing that makes them happy like nothing else. A person, a hobby, a place, a fandom. Mine is the galaxy far, far away that lets me escape from my life whenever I need to.
The Star Wars fandom has its faults, and there is so much hatred.
But more than anything, there is love like no love I have ever experienced before. The love between fans and our love for these movies and shows is something I never expected to have in my life. But somehow, for some reason, it has all found a permanent place in my heart, and I couldn’t be happier.
At this time, the first season of The Bad Batch had just been released. I was branching out, watching The Clone Wars and then jumping to The Book of Boba Fett, though I’m not sure why I chose to watch everything in such a completely random order.
But then I started The Bad Batch.
I had no idea what Crosshair, Tech, Wrecker, Hunter, Echo, and Omega would come to mean to me.
I have dealt with a lot in the last few years. Nothing compared to others, but depression finds a way to wedge into your life. I love to be alone, but I don’t like to be lonely, and I have managed to isolate myself to a point of misery.
I found more comfort in The Bad Batch than anything else in my life, and I will never forget the joy The Bad Batch brought me in these last few years.
I began to write when I found Star Wars, and I was inspired to do so by The Bad Batch. Before, I had never felt so compelled by any one piece of media to add my own part of it to the world, until this. Writing has become another escape, one that gives me an outlet to continue the stories of characters left behind.
What I already knew has been reaffirmed, the lessons I have learned remain with me, and will even after this is over.
That it’s okay to feel afraid, because everyone does, and to make mistakes, provided you learn from them.
That feeling out of place for one reason or another does not make you unworthy of love, and having limitations with affection isn’t something you need to apologize for.
That being goofy, having fun, finding joy in the dark places, is just as vital a part of life as anything else, if not what we need more than anything.
That taking time for yourself, to make sure you don’t fall apart, even while taking care of others, is important.
That our worst moments can be one of two things, what consumes us, or what we grow from.
That being a young woman is not a detriment to your worth, intelligence, talent, or any other aspect of life, but is in fact what makes you strongest.
That what makes us unique and our faults are a part of who we are, but they do not define us, and we are so much more than the ideas people have of us.
My only regret is not making friends when I had the chance. I’m bad at that, opening up and putting myself out there, and I shy away from talking to new people because it makes me uncomfortable. But I wish I had been able to put that aside before it was too late and found people who love The Bad Batch the way I do to continue talking to, even after the show ends.
But to all the people who have supported me and who I have supported, thank you for being part of my Bad Batch experience.
It's very difficult to believe that this is it.
Though The Bad Batch has not been around long, it feels like it has, because as long as I have been watching Star Wars, The Bad Batch has been in its active run, and I’m so grateful I got to be here when it was.
I know that even when the credits roll for the final time, when the greater fandom forgets the show that they never really understood the way we have, I’ll be here, and hopefully, so will all of you. I think that the family brought together by The Bad Batch will endure, even if we go quiet for a while.
We’ll stick around, for the day the Batch comes back. Because I know they will.
Thank you Clone Force 99, the Bad Batch fandom, Dee Bradley Baker, Michelle Ang, the Kiners, and everybody who played a part in telling this story.
The impact The Bad Batch has had on my life has been profound, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. It’s been a wild ride, and I have enjoyed every second of it. It has been a privilege to be a part of this piece in the ever growing history that makes up Star Wars.
Goodbye, Bad Batch. Until next time.
“Change takes getting used to. You’ll see. Just give it time.”
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the-somwthing · 3 days
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Okay continuation of my last post which I would link to if I was on desktop. You don’t need to read it I guess but it’ll give you a better understanding of how I see Scott and Joel’s rivalry maybe.
That was more of an objective analysis, this is where I get into more fanon headcanon territory with my analysis hehe.
Remember when I mentioned I was insane about these two specifically in 3rd Life? Yeagjh. We’re talking about 3L again. Because in my little brain, I like to imagine it really shaped Scott’s character.
SO HERE IT IS, A SCOTT ANALYSIS CENTERED AROUND JOEL.
We all know in 3rd Life Scott placed 10th, significantly lower than his other placements which have all been top 4. A lot of people in the fandom point to Jimmy as the cause, as he has some sort of curse that causes his allies to place significantly lower. As mean as that is I don’t hate that idea, but I don’t think Scott sees it like that (in my headcanons ok I’ll stop disclaimering that now).
I think it’s more Joel’s fault.
Scott wouldn’t blame Jimmy for himself dying so early, Jimmy had already been dead and Scott wasn’t exactly relying on him.
But Jimmy was still his closest ally, and his backup ally had also died. His only alliance left was Scar and Grian, but you can’t just insert yourself into there, they’re a solid duo and you know you’d be first pickings when it’s time to turn on each other.
But then there was Joel. Also allied with Scar and Grian, also completely alone. They agreed to stick together, put aside their differences and fight alongside each other.
Neither of them had any personal stakes in the war, but they also had nothing left to protect. The only thing driving them was their alliance with the desert. But they had fun. They hunted down enemies together and fought a war they didn’t care about, together.
Then Joel charged headfirst into a battle, with Scott following behind. They thought they had Impulse with them, but they never saw him again. (Joel actually believed Scott had abandoned him too, he didn’t realize he was so ahead of the group and I don’t think he heard Scott shout that he was here with him before he died.)
Scott died shortly after Joel, but he was yellow so he came back as a red life. He went back to the desert to pick up his stuff, and at Joel’s mine craft corpse he promised him that his death wouldn’t be in vain.
A little bit later, he died. It was all in vain.
Scott had two lives left after Jimmy died. Yet after following Joel into a single battle, he had died earlier than anyone would have expected. And Joel hadn’t gotten a single kill.
I like to think that this made Scott believe that Joel’s way of playing the game leads to crashing and burning. Scott watches Joel frantically try to get his boogey kill and wind up on red. This only starts to solidify the idea in Scott’s head. Then the second time Scott becomes boogey, he refuses to do it, knowing that he will drive himself to death if he tries. And he ends up winning the season. I think winning after renouncing Joel’s way of playing really solidified for good in Scott’s mind that what Joel’s doing is wrong, it’s not how you’re meant to play the game, it leads to nothing but destruction.
When Scott killed Joel in Secret Life, his final words to Joel were explaining that he’s still alive because he got the extra hearts from killing Bdubs. He said it in a rather taunting way. I think it was Scott’s first attempt at explaining to Joel how wrong his way of playing is. Just like in 3rd Life, he and his ally had charged into battle together and died pointlessly. Scott’s taunting Joel for his mistake now that he’s at the other end of it, seeing just how foolish it was.
I also feel like you could somehow connect this whole “3rd Life death to Last Life win” thing to his tendency to sacrifice himself. He knows that trying to go out in a blaze of glory doesn’t work out, and it’s safest to let your life down gently so that it may help others. In SL Scott may think Joel and Bdubs would’ve been better off if one had sacrificed themselves to the other for more health, and Joel’s being too bloodthirsty to see that. On the flipside, Joel’s one attempt at sacrificing himself ended in tragedy as he was too late, he was trying other methods of helping his ally first when the safest was sacrifice.
Joel values living more than Scott does. When he wants to help his allies, he doesn’t sacrifice himself immediately like Scott does. He tries to help them while he’s alive, so they may both thrive. Scott doesn’t care about that, whether it’s because he already won, or because he’s already experienced life after losing allies and didn’t like it, who knows.
Do you think Scott’s decision to eliminate Joel in Limited Life was fueled by the fact that Joel had just lost Jimmy at all? He knows from Double Life that when Joel loses something, he burns everything around him. He knows from 3rd Life that when you lose Jimmy, you lose the one thing you had, and end up just killing without any purpose.
I think he thought that Joel no longer had a purpose, except to kill. And that’s why he needed to die.
I think of Scott and Joel as… some sort of opposites, I guess. It all started in 3rd Life, when they joined together, and after that failure they both improved, going against each other. Scott may have won Last Life after renouncing Joel’s way of playing, but Joel got 5th, and the most kills. His way of playing had finally started to bear fruits, until Scott gathered a team to take him down.
Now, Joel’s placement never really got better after that, technically neither did Scott’s but at least he stayed top 5, but Joel was finally getting kills every season. Lots of them, too. In 3rd Life he had none. It’s a big improvement.
Anyways, back to Scott. I think he sees Joel as some sort of embodiment of senseless murder. That’s why he’s constantly assembling teams to get rid of him. He’s a problem. It doesn’t matter that this is a death game, Scott knows that endless violence isn’t how you win because he won. Joel couldn’t possibly convince him otherwise, not when he hasn’t won, or even gotten closer than 5th. He’s going to look past the fact that he never lets Joel live. That Joel’s downfall is almost always Scott deciding he’s lived too long.
Joel time, I think he might believe Scott. He desperately tries to convince Scott otherwise, that he should live, but he knows he kills. He’s always been viewed as somewhat of a villain, struggling to gain allies, while Scott is often viewed as a perfect guy with loads of friends. If Joel truly didn’t deserve it, how was Scott able to convince the rest of the server to help? Why was Grian preparing to leave him, warning him that he’s going too far when all he’s trying to do is live? The simple answer is that he truly is the villain of the server. It’s a role Joel isn’t afraid to have, but he never really tries to, so it’s always a surprise when everyone wants him dead. Well, a surprise until they bring up some way he’s wronged someone, then he gets it. But am I crazy or do other people do stuff like that and not get witch hunted lmao
Back to Scott, I believe there was a slight shift in Secret Life, with Scott becoming more conscious of this ongoing rivalry. I think with the realization that Scott has someone obsessed with taking him down, he started to view Joel as more of a person than an oppressive force. Before, he viewed Joel as a wildfire that destroys everything in sight, but now he’s realized that with him, it’s personal. It’s constant. He can rely on Joel to always be hating him. He ignores the times Joel is nice with him to emphasize that he’s got a rival who hates him, while still trying to keep up that he doesn’t care about it. He doesn’t have anything against Joel. He’s only killing him because he needed to die, it wasn’t personal. Scott doesn’t seem to pick up on the fact that if he’s nice to Joel (which he’s doing to keep up the “one-sided rivalry” thing), Joel is fine with dropping his hatred. It creates a somewhat weird dynamic where Scott is like “oh Joel HATES me he’s gonna KILL me on SIGHT” and Joel’s just like 😐. Secret Life is kind of spared from that happening too badly cuz of the whole assassin fail thing making Joel want to kill Scott but like IT STILL HAPPENS. Anyways that’s how we flip the one-sided rivalry to be on the other side lmao.
Anyways, why does it seem like Scott likes having a rival? Well, he certainly loves drama, so that’s one thing. Another thing, despite always having great allies, he’s always saying things about how lonely he is, how he believes no one likes him, abandonment issues, etc. You could read those as ooc jokes but they’re so constant I like to see it as part of his character. So I think he enjoys the idea that Joel has been thinking about him this whole time, even if negatively. Scott even has a line in Limited Life about him being the last green/yellow (I don’t remember when this was) about how everyone’s going to wanna kill him, and it will be “the first time in [his] life people have wanted [him]”. So we know he’s desperate enough for people to “want” him that even wanting him dead is exciting to him.
On the other hand, despite not feeling like people like him, I’m sure he knows it. You can’t have loyal allies and not realize you’re not alone. So he’s got a husband (even if said husband won’t talk about it), he’s got friends, a rival is a perfect next relationship to acquire. It also gives him something to drive him, to push him forward.
Also, he’s not scared of Joel. He’s put an end to him every time. If the rivalry gets out of hand, then, well, it won’t. He’ll stop him like he always does. So it’s perfectly safe and inconsequential to accept Joel as his rival. In fact, it’s kind of better. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?
But aside from strategy I do think he mostly just thinks having a rival is cool and is excited to have one, he just needs to be the cool one that isn’t hateful, lol. The one sided rivalry idea is too funny for him to throw. Being loving is his brand, he’s gotta keep it chill.
So basically my dream scenario is Scott starts being nice to Joel to play into this one-sided rivalry, expecting Joel to hate him unconditionally, not realizing that his hatred is somewhat conditional, and watches as Joel starts being like “wow maybe Scott isn’t so bad” and Scott’s like “wait no, why isn’t he hating me” and they accidentally form some sort of terrible and confusing alliance where neither of them really know what the other is thinking. I don’t think it would happen but man. It would be funny.
Anyways thanks for reading my post I don’t fully like how it came out 😭 I’ll probably talk about Scott and Joel forever and ever so feel free to talk to me and we’ll see if I explain things in a way that I like more haha
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uselessnbee · 1 year
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okay i don't want to be THAT bitch but if El calls out Mike on his bullshit in s5 how the love confession was shit and untrue i do kinda want Mike to turn around and be like "okay well what do you love me for?" because let's be real girl would not have an answer for that 💀
and maybe it would be good to be the last thing that would make her go oh i've never loved him that way either
like yes she totally should throw everything in Mike's face cause she deserves so much better but let's not pretend like she's a good girlfriend to him and it's just Mike being the problem
this fucker has been depressed and struggling for months and like did she ever even ask how is he doing? not her fault but the fact that Mike has been struggling and never once thought about talking to El because he doesn't feel like he can be vulnerable with her? the fact that he pretends he's someone he's not because he feels like she wouldn't want him for who he is? seriously no hate to El i love her to bits and yes Mike is bigger asshole in this but we really need to stop acting like El is perfect and can do no wrong
and that one time in s4 when Mike actually tried to be vulnerable with her and let her know that he understands because he's been bullied his whole life and she just invalidates his feelings and completely dismisses him? i do understand her pov and what she meant but as someone who's also been bullied and have so many people invalidate my feelings and how it affected me and still affects me to this day all the time it really hurt to hear it. the way Mike's feelings are constantly being invalidated and dismissed by both the characters in the show and this fandom just because "others have it worse" really disgusts me
anyways i really just want to point out that this is a relationship. there are two people in this relationship and it all goes both ways. it's not just Mike being an asshole friend and a shitty boyfriend. El isn't really a great girlfriend either and when they were just hanging out together the whole summer it is on El too. they're both just kids trying to do their best and making mistakes we can acknowledge that both of them make some really questionable things so they both can grow and learn
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wonder-worker · 26 days
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A.J Pollard’s biography on Edward IV was so cringe lol (generic; minor but frustrating inaccuracies; intensely judgmental at times and oddly dismissive at others while never considering the broader context; entirely diminished and trivialized Elizabeth Woodville as both queen and wife of his main subject in the name of "defending" her; created a false dichotomy between Edward and Henry VII’s styles of ruling and lauded the latter at the former’s expense even though Henry literally followed Edward’s example for the very things Pollard was criticizing Edward for; had a downright nonsensical and thoroughly misleading conclusion about Edward’s legacy & Richard’s usurpation that was based entirely on hindsight, Pollard's own assumptions, and the complete downplaying Richard’s agency and actions to emphasize what Pollard wrongly and misleadingly claimed were Edward's so-called 'failings', etc, etc)
I wanted to buy his book on Henry V but after reading this shitshow and the synopsis of that book, im guessing it's going to be 10x worse, so...no thanks
#history media#this was written months ago im posting it to get it out of my drafts#it wasn't necessarily BAD. it was generic and readable. but it was very disappointing and misleading and its conclusion was just nonsense#listen I have no patience for the dumbfuck idea that edward somehow had the ultimate responsibility for his own son's deposition because#of his 'policies' during his reign. like I said it's based fully on hindsight and entirely devoid of actual context. it's bafflingly stupid#literally everyone expected Edward V to succeed his father and 'both hoped for and expected' (Croyland's own words) a successful reign#Edward V's deposition was richard and solely Richard's fault lol this should not be difficult to understand#the reason Richard's usurpation was possible in the first place was bcause everyone expected E5 to succeed and didn't expect Richard#do to what he did. nothing would have happened without his initiative and decisions. it had nothing to do with Edward's 'policies'#Edward's policies were fine. henry vii - who pollard vaunts to no end - literally *followed* them#and claiming that he failed to unite England under the Yorkist dynasty is just plain stupid#buddy if he truly failed at that then neither Richard III nor Henry VII would have thrones lol. both emphasized continuity with#him when aiming for the throne. like the whole point of 1483-85 was that it was a conflict WITHIN the 'Yorkist' dynasty#it was not an external threat against it.#'his legacy failed' his legacy didn't fail his brother destroyed it (while also presenting himself as his heir because logic what's logic?)#henry's victory was very much the triumph of his legacy (a claimant chosen by his supporters as the husband of his daughter)#like this is really not my interpretation it is literally what happened#i'm not trying to glorify e4 but his son did inherit the throne in a more advantageous circumstances than any other minor king of england#and frankly than most other adult kings. dumping blame on Edward's literal corpse rather than acknowledge Richard's agency is so tasteless#the problem isn't that edward made a mistake in trusting his brother. many other kings including Henry V also trusted theirs.#the problem is that his brother was willing to break that trust in a way that was unprecedented and broke all political norms of that age#ie: Richard's usurpation occurred because of Richard who re-ignited conflict to make himself king. please drill this into your head#also btw this illogical 'interpretation' is based entirely on Charles Ross' hatred and derision towards Elizabeth Woodville and her family#if you agree with this inteterpretation you agree with his vilification of them 🤷🏻‍♀️#anyway if you want a better interpretation that's actually analytical and looks a relevant rather than a flawed retrospective perspective#i would recommend rosemary horrox's 'richard iii: a study of service' and david horspool's 'richard iii: a ruler and his reputation'#anyway one last time: STOP downplaying Richard's agency and actions. historians who do this are stupid and embarrassing. bye.#(i should really post horspool's glorious takedown of ross and Pollard huh? it was very entertaining to read)
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salsa-di-pomodoro · 1 year
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Headcanon time. Five Pebbles would hate being held in any way unless he specifically started or consented to it because otherwise it would make him feel small and or powerless
(look at my tags boy)
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lazarus---rising · 7 months
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love (hate) when im Thinking about my childhhod and im like "yeah it was pretty normal and good ithink" and then i fuckingg Rember
#like oh that one wasnt very good !#personal#<- ish#<- but boy are these tags about to be#this is about the time i didnt respond to my dad's text when i was in the middle of a highschool tour with my sibling#(<- they came with cause why the hell not)#and on the drive back home he went on this rant about how we dont know what money's worth (completely unrelated !)#and he literally told us To Our Faces that it wouldve been better if we werent born ! like sir whose fault is that one !!#and theres definitely more but for once im thankful for my head blocking shit out of my memories#and how hed yell at me for making Basic Fucking MIstakes (once when i was EIGHT i spilt water down the stairs and#he yelled at me for .i forgot how long but too fukcing long#and made me get him to bring my cups downstairs for a month after and then he forgot and yelled at me AGAIN#for asking him to bring my cup down AFTER TELLING ME I HAD TO#and so so much more like . the yelling got so bad that when i twisted my ankle#(only real ones remember)#i was scared of telling him cause i KNEW he'd be like 'do you have any clue how much the doctor's gonna cost blah blah'#and i just . didnt tell him#we used to have money issues and he'd always make me feel like shit for asking for anything that costed money ever#so i just didnt tell him when i was sick or injured or when i needed something cause he would get mad at ME like . hello#AnyWay ! so yeah thats the rundown of some of my severe trauma that still affects me to this day
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themeganator5000 · 1 year
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May... May I see why you agree with Scooter being gay
Oh god. Yeah, I suppose so. I literally just typed up what would basically be my script if I ever did a youtube video essay rant about this topic (i will never do this, but someone definitely should).
Bear in mind, I literally wrote this like an hour ago in a hyperfixation-induced daze so my friend @hails-the-geek would have something silly to wake up to 😘 So, not exactly written for public consumption, but since you asked so nicely:
SO HERES HOW WE CAN FIX SCOOTER. Scooter the Muppet started out as a nepotistic lil whippersnapper who had little to no morals and only cared about meeting famous people and having a high-paying, low-effort job. Now that's all well and good and a Scooter we have all grown to love BUT ever since Disney has obtained ownership of the Muppets, they have become less of the struggling underdogs and more of a lesser-known classic. This already raises some problems with the overall tone of the characters, especially Scooter, because the only way he was able to get Kermit and the gang to bend to his every whim was to remind them that his very wealthy uncle owned the theatre and the ground it stood on. The fun of his character was that he was a gofer (essentially an intern) whose job it was to take orders from anyone for anything, but with his familial connection to a person in high power he could inversely force any one of the Muppets to take orders from HIM to get just about anything. Now, since the Muppets HAVE no theatre and are usually performing on a soundstage likely owned by the Disney company, Scooter has lost his influence and no longer has the ability to be the narcissist, sassy, two-timing brat he once was. He has been boiled down to his face value as an over-enthusiastic, dorky, wide-eyed fanboy who eagerly goes along with whatever he is told to do. This, of course, was present in the original iteration, but it was always known that if Scooter ever DISAGREED with what he was told to do, he could always find a way around it. Helpful until inconvenient. It is also worth noting that in the original Muppet Show, Scooter was intended to be a young boy around 14 years old, but in more recent adaptations he seems to have aged, being given adult love interests and being shown cage dancing in a nightclub. This brings me to my conclusion; how we can fix Scooter in this modern age and bring back some of that charm that made us adore him all those years ago. The answer is quite simple, really:
MAKE
SCOOTER
🏳️‍🌈 𝗚 𝗔 𝗬 🏳️‍🌈
Richard Hunt, the Muppeteer who portrayed Scooter and many other characters until his untimely death in 1992, was openly gay and a well-loved part of the original Muppet cast. So much so, that Jim Henson personally requested that he be the one to host the memorial service at his funeral, which he did. Richard Hunt said that he based Scooter's personality on his own when he first started working with the Muppets, enthusiastic, eager to please, and definitely trying too hard. While all those personality traits are decidedly still present in today's Scooter, the absence of one crucial piece is blatantly apparent.
𝘏𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺.
While never explicitly stated, Scooter's character can easily be interpreted as gay, exhibiting flamboyant characteristics, having a borderline obsession with Elton John, just kinda being twinkish and boy-toy-like in nature. Whatever the reasoning, there is no better candidate for Disney's First Gay Muppet than the trademark character of the original gay Muppeteer, Scooter. BUT! It is EXTREMELY important to note that there are two ways this could be played: either there are little to no changes in Scooter's personality and he just gets an off-screen boyfriend or something (lame) OR Scooter's personality shifts into a more goofy-sassy gay best friend type of deal where he hangs out with Miss Piggy a bit more and references more modern queer icons (like Beyoncé or something?? idk ask a gay man) and comments on the attractiveness of male guest stars whenever the opportunity arises. This was hinted to in the 2015 series ABC's "The Muppets", but they never fully committed to the bit. Calling Scooter a boy toy is one thing, but having him get caught making out with Walter in the storage closet is another. COMMIT TO THE FUCKING BIT, DISNEY. Let Scooter say "yasss, qween" and "slayyy" and lust over men's bodies I'm not asking for much. You have already denied me Bert & Ernie and Statler & Waldorf, but let me have Scooter. Let me have the one Muppet my ADHD-riddled lesbian ass choice to have a crush on at 14 years old. Let me live out my fantasy of seeing Scooter on a Muppet-themed float at a pride parade. Please Disney, think of the fucked-up adults. We deserve this, we've EARNED this. You've ruined every other part of my childhood with your dirty capitalism, you OWE me this 𝘖𝘕𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘎. You will make Scooter gay. Scooter 𝗜𝗦 gay. Scooter has always 𝘉𝘌𝘌𝘕 gay. And there is absolutely 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 you can do about it.
Thank you for your time.
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lith-myathar · 1 month
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.
#ever find yourself over-explaining something you did because you feel like you're about to get in trouble? even if it's something innocuous?#and you're trying so hard to Not Get in Trouble you start to feel like you're lying EVEN THOUGH YOU ARE NOT#sometimes one notices a behavior and it's like ''oh yeah. i spent my whole childhood being constantly criticised and living on the defensive#and now any time i feel like i MIGHT have made a mistake#even if there's no reason to think i did#i'll start trying to prove it wasn't my fault and get out in front of criticism before it even happens''#note to self to remember i do stuff like this next time im questioning how bad it actually was#i act in these weird evasive prevaricating ways for no reason#i feel like i have to hide something when there's nothing worth hiding#it's all these weird reactions to living for so long in an environment where if i DID do something wrong#the resulting harsh criticism and verbal abuse was so bad that i started to be hyper vigilant#and always looking for things to excuse whatever id done#it suckkksssss in adulthood because it makes you act squirrelly and weird (read: suspicious#to someone who doesn't understand that kind of anxiety) AND if you do genuinely make a mistake#it's really hard not to get extremely defensive bc you're expecting to be emotionally demolished if you admit you were at fault#it's not a gr8 behavior and i hate when i catch myself doing it#ive gotten way better about that one in the last few years but only because i now live with people who are capable of regulating#even when they are angry with me.
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lasarcasticpanda · 1 year
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while the whole hospital scene is an example of the joel that everyone has been wary of, it's also a joel that hasn't been seen in 20 years. like, the whole episode is.
this joel is joking and gentle and attentive to try and cheer up his daughter. he's worried and fumbling a little in the excusion but diving headfirst in trying to comfort her and show how much she means to him and asking her to allow him to help her find/be a reason to keep fighting to be here. just like she is for him.
and then people in uniform with guns threaten her (again) and he has this moment of helplessness (again). only. only.
this time, it's not an immediate death. he has time this go around to actually do something.
and he does it without a second thought. in the aftermath of the opening of this reprise, he becomes the one man army he couldn't be for sarah. yeah the hospital is the joel everyone has been wary of, but its that joel with the purpose of joel-from-before and god help any motherfuckers who get in his way.
in the game, when marlene and joel are talking, she tells him: "this isn't about you, or even her - there is no other choice here."
she was right. there was no other choice, never was, not for joel.
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iguessitsjustme · 1 year
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I haven’t made any posts about work this week which is wild to me because normally I never shut up about it. And I like to make these posts so I can look back on them later SO this has been my week:
-I learned I was doing something wrong on my project which is going to cause a little extra work for management but they were super chill about it and completely understanding since the whole thing is and was complicated and it’s my first year doing it. And instead of having a panic attack that I made a mistake (which happened at my last job), I felt relaxed and okay to keep moving forward and fix the mistake. I love the management here. They are excellent at what they do.
-Today my manager and I commiserated over the fact that the other manager isn’t having my coworker make notes about her project that overlaps with mine. Which would normally be fine except without the notes I had no way of knowing something. My manager and I are both avid note takers and trackers so at any point we can each tell you who did what on what day. Which comes in handy when other departments are like “why isn’t this done yet” and we can come back and say “it was done a week ago.”
-I’ve basically just been busy reviewing applications and if I have to read one more essay about track, I’m gonna lose my mind.
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gatun-gatunesco · 11 months
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...
#and so i came back here. because in here i can find joy and sorrow. laugh a little and cry a lot because someone made a post i resonate with#it makes me feels understood. a private and intimate place that is also shared at the same time. and strangely; like a home#but i came back without knowing who i am. I see someone else in the mirror. Is that a monster? a sinner? a human? a normal man?#after all that effort leaving depression and self hate from my adolescence behind. from being proud of myself for being different to all me#was all a lie? how could i do such awful and terrible thing to the person i swore to protect? the person i love the most#i said i would never do that kind of unforgivable act. And here i am. Alive after the event. I want to drop dead. To dissapear from here.#But at the same time i want to fix what i did. in order to do that i need to heal. to change. be happy. to live. and i hate it#how can i do all of that with the weight of guilt crushing me and telling me i killed myself that day? i am just a shell of who i was#how to change what i thought was the best version of me? i was supposed to be different no harmful and kind man!!!#i already asked for help. and they told me it was not all my fault. But i still think it is. There is no way it can be 50/50#physical actions are only responsibility of the ones who made it. circumstances are not a reason to diminish them guilt#a confused person is not deserving of any part of the guilt. they do not have control over themselves. but the other ones sure have it#yes. they might have started and added little physical actions. but i refused and it never came to completion. which is the opposite of min#physical trauma can spawn emotional and mental trauma as well. is way more bad and deep that the emotional one i might have#i want to kill that trash in front of the mirror. why are you still living bitch? just to be a parasite and hurt people on the go?#to make irreversible mistakes that affects every person around you? your decisions never end well. why do not you just give up already?#and yet here i am. trying to not isolate myself thanks to the safe place i found here. I can write what is on my mind. gives me some relief#because the only person i talked everyday is the same one i hurted as i never thought i would in my life#Hope i can found redemption one day. I hope they can heal and be happy soon and forever.#I am going to always be worry about them (i am sure of that) but i wish nothing but the best for them. I want nothing to hurt them again.#They never deserved the trauma and guilt. They suffered more than enough way before i step in and fucked up everything.#Life. if you can hear me. Please give them recovery. happyness. health and lots of love. They deserve it. Please#They did nothing wrong! Take them pain away and put it in me. I will stay alive just for that if is neccesary#I wanted to kill myself way long ago. but i still here. I might want to kill myself again. but i still will be here.#Just leave them be happy. That is what i really want
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lilgynt · 1 year
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OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. i forgot to update about so many life events
#personal#it’s important cause this is how i keep track of MY life#you know how much i’d forget without my tumblr personal tag#ANYWAY.#MY OLD WORK PLACE SHUT DOWN#i found out when filling up information for my new job and i looked up the address and oh my god i could puke that’s so fucking funny#LOVE that the manager who groomed me was like ur made a huge mistake leaving… last time i visited oh my god#i am sad about jimi tho he was my favorite and im still in love with him :( i do know his twitch streaming channel tho#oh and my brother apologized ? kinda?#i guess he could tell i was stand off ish during thanksgiving#and also side note damn i cannot win thanksgiving i bring up my issues there’s drama i don’t do shit there’s drama#anyway he bought me a tank full of gas and was like i understand i can’t buy forgiveness and this isn’t me trying to this is just me saying#i’ve been a dick. it was a longer speech about how he’s ready to put this behind him if i am but he gets if i’m not#i didn’t know how to respond bc it’s like okay are you doing this just to move past the issue or like. do you find anything wrong in ur#actions. and he never answered me on whether he likes me or not#so i was like okay. appreciated and left it at that#he chilled in my room his last day here and we just chatted a little#it still had this odd feeling of like my views of our relationship have permanently changed but he seems exactly the same and i can’t tell#if he felt any change or if i’m just by myself#it does suck that it feels like it’ll never be like before again and it feels like. like that’s my fault#like if i could just be normal and move on we’d be fine but i’m still upset and. gg and audrey emphasize that i’m just not taking his shit#anymore but it still feels like my fault#very funny how kept buying me things tho like 30 buck discount on a car thing smoothie food tank full of gas#that was a little funny.#also super sweet how upset everyone is i’m leaving. i already had to make plans and promises to visit its very sweet at work#but also oh my god i’m so glad i’m leaving i worked a full day black friday and that was fine but post closing i could kill my manager#some dude PUSHED his way through the door and the attendant holding it and her only response was that’s fine#and he was there till fucking 9:21 also i was the only cashier scheduled past closing and no one made an announcement till like. five after#we closed thankfully the other cashiers stayed cause there was a shit ton of people like no shit! but her being like that’s fine set me off#sooooo bad
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