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scarluxia · 11 months

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Solidarity with actual working-class people (that you personally know)

I probably shouldn’t say this, because two of the people involved have been 95% kind to me in the many years that we’ve known each other, but I’m still fucking salty about the other 5% that happened a few years ago. I was writing about it in my diary to process it and the sudden urge to post it up overcame me.

I don’t remember what year this was, but I want to say 2017. I’m not going to name names here because it is a sensitive personal issue and I actually don’t want to upset someone it’s about. This isn’t intended to throw shade, but some emotions are going to come out. I love them to death and I’d do just about anything for them except keep silent because I’ve been censored and shut down my entire fucking life and I won’t have it. (I’m pretty sure they’ve apologized since this happened? but the emotions associated with it won’t go away. We’re good and they’ve been a stalwart friend since this incident, so this is JUST about my feelings about the situation.)

A little background on Person X. They’re very into social justice activism and have boycotted a few major companies for business practices they don’t agree with that could potentially harm *waves arm* The Masses. That’s part of why what I’m about to describe shocked the hell out of me. They have a spouse whom I’ll call Person Y.

Person Z was, at the time, working a demanding job and going to college. Person A was their boss.

Z has a disorder. They require things to be rephrased for their comprehension sometimes. They’re also very emotionally sensitive and... I don’t know if they second-guess themself a lot but they ask me things like, “Does this [outfit/accessory] look good? Does this [essay] sound okay? Is it insensitive if I associate [this thing] with [this other thing]?” Stuff like that. They want a lot of feedback to make sure they’re doing well. So, at their job, they asked their boss for specifically positive feedback. Well, they received the exact opposite, in front of customers which included X and me. I don’t remember the entire conversation, but at least two of us were crying at the end of it. What I do remember is Z being scolded for doing everything incorrectly and “charging for [their] time.”

So imagine being a college student, working a demanding job in the service industry, PROBABLY being paid minimum wage, and being told, in front of customers, that you’re doing everything wrong and charging for your time. Charging the MINIMUM FUCKING WAGE OF WHAT IS LEGALLY REQUIRED TO PAY AN EMPLOYEE. Now pile a disorder on top of that, that makes it difficult to understand instructions the first time, and a boss who’s too impatient to give proper training because oh you should just be able to see this demonstrated once and then do it perfectly.

Z was furious and hurt, and I was furious on their behalf. I went to trade school to qualify for work and I worked as hard as my various illnesses would allow in order to pay bills and services, and have the occasional fun shopping trip. Z has more focus and drive than I do; they now have a college degree and they worked in an industry that I probably couldn’t. I was so incredibly impressed with them for accomplishing things that I might not be able to, so to see them be torn down like that for doing their literal best, especially when their best is better than my best, was horrifying.

I immediately decided I was never going to patronize that establishment again. My solidarity was 100% with my friend, who now had to find a new job and was probably feeling pretty demoralized about doing so. I expected that X would feel the same way, given that X has boycotted major companies for inhumane practices that hurt...the hypothetical masses. People we’ll never meet. Surely boycotting a business that treats an actual tangible human being we personally know like an errant and incompetent child would be an even easier thing to commit to, right?

Nah, you know where I’m going with this. X had formed an emotional attachment with Person A and just wanted us all to get along. Didn’t want to pick sides, wanted to be accepted and loved by everyone. Understandable, but in light of their activism on the behalf of-- again-- STRANGERS, I just....

It felt like a slap in the face. It felt like, “I don’t care how they treated my friend as long as they still love ME.” Disclaimer: That’s my personal emotional reaction to it. I don’t know if Z felt the same way. I’m not trying to speak for them, but I definitely felt betrayed on their behalf because, if the same thing had happened to me, I would feel like, “You don’t have my back. I can’t trust you to stand up for me come hell or high water like I would do for you.”

Let’s talk about the actions taken, so it’s clearer what I actually mean. I immediately decided I would never eat at this establishment again, regardless of who was paying for the meal, because I did not want money spent on MY behalf there. I did not ENDORSE how A treated their staff. X, however, had a strong emotional attachment to A and chose to continue eating there-- which shocked the hell out of me. I’m pretty sure I tried to be understanding at the time because I know X is a lot more sociable than I am and they’re also someone I don’t want to hurt.

Meanwhile, I wrote a 3-star review saying the food was good but I didn’t like the way the owner treated their employees. The owner then demanded, to X, that I-- a completely separate person, for whose actions X is NOT responsible-- take down the review. I did not like that idea. I feel strongly against having to censor myself or be un-allowed to say what’s true. X’s spouse, Person Y, got involved and basically asked me if my “having a voice” (my words that Y repeated) was more important than X’s feelings, and expressed upsetness that X was crying over “a fucking review”.

There are a lot of things Y and I do not see eye-to-eye on. I love and respect them, and I’m grateful to them for helping me quite a lot. But as a working-class person below the poverty level... being expected to swallow THAT, from someone who (also works hard but) comes from a wealthy family who’d be able to help them get back on their feet if something happened??? That was a lot for me to be expected to handle with any sort of grace. I wanted to fucking SCREAM at them that they had no idea what Z had gone through, what I could be at risk of going through if I was unlucky enough. I wanted to tell them both that X should know better and put their desire to be liked by everyone aside for the sake of loyalty to an actual good friend! I wanted to say that if A really valued X, A wouldn’t be emotionally blackmailing X to have SOMEONE WHO IS NOT PERSON X take down an honest fucking review regarding their business practices.

I can say all that in hindsight because it’s been years, but I don’t think our friendship would have survived it if I’d said all that at the time. I took down the review, bristling the whole time that I was once again being demanded to silence myself. Person X and Person A subsequently had a conversation that (paraphrased) went:

“We’re not going to be close anymore, but your money’s still welcome here.”

“No, thank you.”

It was a harrowing experience for X, probably Y, definitely Z, and me. This whole thing was a fucking mess and, while Z has moved on, sometimes this still haunts me, like today, even though I was barely involved. I don’t know why I hold onto things this hard.

I put the review back up, by the way, once X greenlit me to do so. I dropped it down to a 1-star, repeated what I’d said in my old review, and added that the owner had emotionally blackmailed me by proxy into taking down the initial review, so therefore I was dropping it from a mediocre 3-star to a scathing 1-star.

Again, this isn’t supposed to be a shade-post. It just... escapes my comprehension how someone could see their friend be treated like shit right in front of their eyes and not immediately go, “Oh HELL no, you don’t deserve my kindness or my business anymore.” I place a high premium on loyalty and honesty, for the most part. I hate neutrality in the face of personal conflict. If I have a problem with someone and you’re “neutral”, then by definition you are not explicitly “for me”. While I’ve come to accept in the last like... thirteen years that that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re “against me”, not being explicitly for me still feels like a betrayal.

Likewise, if I see someone treat my friend badly, I am explicitly for my friend. While I might continue being civil or even friendly to the other person if I need something from them (e.g. a project partner or someone I’ve commissioned), I’m no longer going to trust them and you bet your ASS I’m selling them out by name the second I get the chance.

I don’t ask that my friends point the finger and say, “Jane Brown is a BAD PERSON because they did THESE HORRIBLE THINGS to my friend and HERE’S THE RECEIPTS!” I just feel like maybe it would be beneficial to think, “Hmm, Jane Brown did something that made my friend hurt and angry. I should consider whether my association with Jane is more important than my friend’s well-being,” especially if another friend has taken a stand and said, “I don’t want to support Jane anymore because of Jane’s behavior towards our friend.”

#loyalty

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bigskydreaming · 2 years

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Another entry in my series of ‘tropes that really bug the crap out of me’ since apparently that has become a regular kind of post that I do. With regularity. I’m practically on an Activia diet at this point.

But I digress.

SO. Y’know that thing where Character A finds out a secret about something Character B is doing that will hurt Character C....and all three characters are close and emotionally invested in each other’s lives and happiness?

For example, Characters B and C are in a relationship, Character B cheats, and Character A finds out....and is torn about what to do about it, because they’re friends with both characters, and its not even that they don’t think that Character C has a right to know, but because of how aware they are of how much it’ll hurt Character C to find out, they stall and drag out acting on their knowledge because they just don’t know HOW to go about navigating the situation in a way that’ll cause the least additional harm.

And then along comes Character D, who is NOT friends with any of the above, finds out whatever secret B has, Character A knows, and that Character C will be hurt both to find out and/or to know that Character A knew and didn’t tell them....

And Character D gladly tells Character C, but not because its the right thing to do but because they don’t care about the emotional fallout that will result, and is perfectly content to watch all three characters get hit by various forms of blowback from both the secret and the secret being kept by the third party, even if that was only meant to be temporary....

Like, this kind of drama is a staple of so many narratives because it is a MESSY quagmire to navigate. One of those things where Character C is sympathetic and justified in feeling pretty much any kind of way about any of these angles....

EXCEPT.

The one angle I can’t STAND when narratives fixate on here, is when Character C gets mad at Character A not even just because they didn’t tell them what they knew....but because they had to hear it from Character D. “Why did I have to hear it from THIS person, instead of my friend who I trust to have my back and care about me,” is how that commonly goes.

And its not that it isn’t understandable that this thought ever pops into their head at all, and its not that its hard to see why that would hurt or compound the feelings of betrayal....

But but BUT....

If a narrative is going to take this particular route, at SOME point, SOMEBODY has got to point out there’s a very specific, very clear ‘why’ they heard it from Character D instead of Character A....

BECAUSE IT WAS EASY FOR CHARACTER D TO TELL THEM BECAUSE THEY FLAT OUT DON’T CARE ABOUT THEM OR ANY OF THE EMOTIONAL FALLOUT THE REVEAL WOULD CREATE.

It doesn’t mean that however Character A did or didn’t handle having the information they had was ‘the right way to handle it’ - whatever that might be....it just means....the fact that the entire reason they didn’t immediately turn around and inform Character C the second they found out was because they knew it would unleash all kinds of emotional hurt and consequences and they were only delaying because how much they care about them had them second-guessing what to do....

Like, this is an extremely relevant factor! In fact, its quite literally the heart of the issue!

So when narratives NEVER at any point have Character C acknowledge this, and continue to emphasize that it sucks to have been informed by Character D without ever returning to the reason WHY Character A took too long to tell them themselves, or without anyone else in their friend group pointing this out to Character C in their own conversations....

Its like....what are you doing, narrative?!?!

Yes, by all means, explore the myriad ways and reasons Character C is hurt and feels betrayed not just by the secret, but by the how and when and who of the reveal of said secret....sure, go right ahead and have Character A acknowledge that best intentions are all well and good, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t still fumble the ball and compound Character C’s hurt anyway, even if that was the very thing they were trying to avoid....

But like, you gotta at least TOUCH on the fact that the ONLY reason the truth came from Character D instead of A....was NOT because they’re more trustworthy than A, more honest or decent than A, a better or more reliable person than A.....its literally only because Character D is an asshole!

And yet I see sooo many narratives gloss over this particular acknowledgment in the name of heightening the drama between Characters A and C or making Character C seem even more victimized or alone or leaning hard on the severity of Character A’s own ‘betrayal’ by not being the one to tell them the truth....

With this almost always pulling me right out of the story or show and getting me steamed just on principle, but not at the characters, at the writers for the artificiality of it all. For taking their eye off the ball and shifting the narrative and perceptions of the characters involved, but in the name of maximizing the drama that can be mined from this one specific narrative conflict rather than in the name of advancing anyone’s arcs or actual development for any of the characters and their dynamics with each other.

This is not good storytelling, IMO, its just annoying. Its a storytelling shortcut that attempts to speedrun through things and crank up the intensity in a way it hasn’t actually earned....and thus it almost always backfires or feels cheap and somehow off or lacking.

#quick question: why do I default to sports terminology when I am like...a 0 on the 'actually cares about sports' scale?#'take their eye off the ball'? where did that even come from? I dont get me. I stg

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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What about Lady D and truth, for the prompt thing?

(Longer than all of my one word prompts, at close to 1300 words, so under a read-more)

In all her years, Lady Alcina Dimitrescu has rarely been one to humor anxiety. She was strong-willed, determined, held a great favor for honesty, and had few reasons to doubt herself. After all, she was one of Mother Miranda’s chosen “children”, selected to rule over a grand estate for decades. What could possibly make her palms sweat, or her heart skip beats? To her immense displeasure… the answer was love. Love was what both thrilled and terrified her, acting as butterflies in her stomach yet a snake coiling around her throat all the same. It held her heart hostage inside her own chest. Yes, love did all this and more, for it was a mighty affection, far stronger than Alcina had felt before (at least when it came to romance).

And it was love for you. She had yet to approach the subject with you, out of her anxiety, but had not attempted to directly hide her feelings. By this point, her pining was clear to just about everyone in the castle. Well, everyone but you. Despite the way Alcina softened around you, despite the way she easily forgave your mistakes (even the ones that cost her), despite the way she constantly invited you to share a drink or meal with her, despite everything, you did not make the connection.

At first you had merely assumed you had caught her eye, and that before long she would select you as her next “meal”. After a couple of months, you realized your misjudgment, then believing that she enjoyed your company; but only as a friend, of course. There was little reason for you to assume that an incredibly powerful, century-old, blood-drinking immortal was romantically interested in a servant such as yourself. To Alcina, your obliviousness came off as humility, which only strengthened the thundering of her heart. In the end, it took the intervention of a trusted colleague for you to realize the truth.

“How do you feel about Lady Dimitrescu? Like, emotionally,” Ava wrote, before passing xer notebook to you. Admittedly it had taken a while for you to adjust to xer odd way of communicating, but once you had, well, xe was always an interesting conversational partner. Plenty of odd anecdotes and humorous stories about your employers. More than that, xe had a knack for understanding even the most intricate of human emotions. On several different occasions you had seen xer talking with other maidens, about serious subjects, acting as a pseudo therapist. Now it appears to be your turn to have your mind examined.

“She’s, hmm. I suppose I have conflicting emotions about her,” you reply, as quietly as you can, worried that somehow your employers would overhear. Recognizing that you hadn’t actually answered Ava’s question, you continued, pausing here and there to think about how to articulate your thoughts. “On one hand I know that she’s capable of great, terrible harm. I’ve seen the results, I’ve even poured them like wine for her to drink… But she can be awfully sweet, when she so desires, especially to her children. Perhaps I’ve come to be numb, insensitive to the violence around us, but I cannot help but admire Lady Alcina. Even, well, I suppose I might be inclined to say that I do more than just admire her.”

“Ooh la la, my friend! Would you ever consider telling her? I imagine it would go rather well. Just a feeling, though, so no pressure!” Ava replies, presenting xer notebook with a flourish and a grin. Immediately you’re blushing, somehow not having expected xer to say anything like that. It takes you a moment to think about what xe said, trying to figure out what you’re wanting to do- what you’re willing to risk. You were certain that Ava knew what xe was talking about, considering how close to the Dimitrescu xe was, meaning that you stood a good chance of starting something meaningful with Alcina.

“Wait,” you start to say, remembering tidbits from the past few months, “has she felt something for me for some time now? Have I been misinterpreting things this entire time?” At that, Ava gives a hearty laugh, the most noise you’ve ever heard from xer. But xe doesn’t give you a proper response, instead giving you a pat on the shoulder before leaving the room forthright. You’re left to your own devices, to ponder your options fully. It’s not hard to make a decision; not when you think about how much Alcina means to you. “Guess we’ve got something to talk about… here’s hoping Ava knows as much as xe seems to.”

—————————

“Lady Dimitrescu? May I have a minute of your time?” You ask, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. Despite the evidence of her affection, as well as Ava’s testimony, you could not help but be nervous. There was certainly a risk to opening up to one’s own boss, particularly when they were as dangerous as Alcina. Thankfully, the good lady seemed to be in a pleasant mood today. Certainly that would help, yes?

“Of course, my dear. There are few things that would ever distract me from you,” Alcina replies, making your heart skip a beat. Admittedly you doubted the truth behind her words… but that didn’t mean she hadn’t successfully flustered you. More than that, she seemed rather pleased by your unsubtle blush, a satisfied smile gracing her lips. For a few seconds you’re too distracted by her to speak. “Please, take a seat, make yourself comfortable. I assure you that you have no reason to be nervous.” Except you did, of course, but there was no point in arguing. So you settle down as best as you’re able, heart still racing. Part of you couldn’t help but wonder if she could hear it.

“I… I do not want to be overly forward, Lady Alcina, for you are first and foremost my employer, and a Lord of the village, and I hold nothing in my heart for you but respect. There’s simply something that I must, well, get off my chest,” you explain sheepishly. Across from you, Alcina does her best to appear welcoming, even if it meant less-than-perfect posture (not that it was anywhere bad enough for you to notice). Although you are not aware, her chest thrums with excitement. Were you going to make this easy for her? Were you to reach out in the way that she had yet to do? Was your confession, your truth, the same as her own? “I have… ahem, found myself falling for you, my Lady, over these past few months. I-I know that you likely do not share these feelings, and that the chances of us becoming a couple are slim to none, but I-”

To her, this was absurd, and she would hear no more of it. So she rose to her feet, making you do the same out of nerves, one hand going to gently cup your chin. She held you there, forcing you to make eye contact. Except her gaze held nothing other than affection.

“Do not fret, my dear. You have consumed my heart in its entirety, and I will hear no talk of me denying you what is rightfully yours. I have ached with this truth for some time, but now I am free to bear it with pride, your hand in mine,” Alcina says, voice a perfect blend of softness and confidence. Before either of you realize it, you’re wrapping your arms around her, pulling her in close. She’s eager to return the embrace, fingers rubbing gentle circles into your back. “Thank you, dear, for saying what I could not.”

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #avaskian caldwell #queuemander shepard

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mbti-notes · 3 years

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Anon wrote: Hi. I hope you had/are having a great summer break. I (INTP) am hoping for some perspective about an issue. Recently, my mother, whom I hadn’t seen in a while, became incredibly frustrated that I corrected her with an alleged “I know everything” attitude.

It’s an issue of concern because she revealed that I always do this. I guess this was the straw that broke it, especially given that what we were discussing was very trivial. (Maybe the frivolousness of the subject is precisely what made my correction seem more pedantic, unnecessary, arrogant.) She says that my attitude disregards her long life experience, and that if she were a stranger, she would think of me as a “snot-nosed brat who knows nothing about life” instead of as a “wise young person”, which is the viable alternative. She said that I am closed-minded and that I shoot everything down. (The problem of small-mindedness is what you addressed the only other time I wrote to you.)

I don’t know why I come off as arrogant. I’m sure that I’m not. I asked my mother what it was that made her think that, which she thought was a silly question because what she sensed was a general demeanor rather than specific behaviors. In the end we were only able to establish that my lack of eye contact was one of those factors. I can work on that, but surely that’s not determinant. What makes people think of others as arrogant? Should I stop correcting people? I don’t correct others in order to feel superior to them. I do it because I like to debate, in order to keep my thinking sharp, and because there is something painful about friends/family having false notions. I think it’s fair to say that my intention isn’t rooted in arrogant soils.

Granted, my suggestion of stopping correcting people is black-and-white, given that there is the grey option of changing the *way* I correct people. I’m just wondering if it’s an unhealthy habit in the first place. But given how prevalent a thought process it is (i.e. questioning people’s statements and finding faults), the process of getting rid of it may be akin to self-directed psychological violence. I mean, this is the same mode of being that makes me good at what I’m good at. (There’s also the option of keeping the thought process, but not correcting people aloud, but I don’t know what else there is to talk about other than analyzing ideas and their faults. Maybe I should analyze ideas for their strengths too, and express that side more than the faults.)

So anyway, let’s go with grey: So far I’ve tried thinking of an arrogant person that I know in order to understand my behavior, but I can’t think of anyone. Also, no matter how hard I try to put myself in someone else’s shoes in order to simulate an interaction with myself, it doesn’t really work, and I can’t see the arrogance, except if I were to just tell someone “that’s wrong” without any explanation. (I wonder if that’s what went wrong in the conversation with my mother.) Either way, this whole issue boils down to the fact that I’m not arrogant by any reasonable criteria that I found online, but that I come off as such. This was longer than intended. Thanks for your kindness and help.

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Here are some questions for you to reflect on. They are meant to increase awareness of your underlying assumptions, beliefs, and values. Answer honestly:

Do you care about your mom? Do you care about how she's faring, what she's experiencing, what she's thinking or feeling, what she needs and desires, what she hopes for or aspires to, etc?

If you care, how do you SHOW your care to her?

If you don't care, how does that affect your behavior toward her?

Do you believe that the mother-child relationship only goes one-way? (Is it the mom's job to do for you but you owe her nothing?)

You say you like to debate to sharpen your mind. Innocent enough. I like to roller skate to keep myself physically fit. In an ideal world, I would never take my skates off. Does my enthusiasm for roller skating mean that I slap my skates on anywhere, any time? No. Surely it is inappropriate to skate around a hospital or the supermarket. Not only could I seriously harm myself, I would also be exhibiting flagrant disregard for the safety and well-being of others.

What you like to do for yourself sometimes comes into conflict with other people. If you care about people and hope to have healthy and happy relationships with them, you have to take their needs and wants into consideration in every interaction. You have to abide by ethical rules and principles that allow your needs to be met without neglecting the needs of others or interfering with their ability to get their needs met. Without ethics, society wouldn't be able to function, because it would just be a free-for-all.

You mention small-mindedness. It is quite small-minded to walk around the world only thinking about what you need/want. In the best case scenario, you are completely oblivious to others, and they will perceive you as clueless or self-absorbed. In the worst case scenario, you only interact with people for your own personal gain, and that would make you an exploitative or even abusive person. Is that the kind of person you want to be?

Do you basically treat people as though their sole purpose on earth is to debate you and help you sharpen your mind - to serve you? Do you launch into debates with people without asking for consent or checking to see if they want to be corrected? If you do, they will call you arrogant, not because you've put yourself on a pedestal and call yourself superior like an evil cartoon character, but because you are communicating to them that your needs/wants are most important AND you don't give a damn about theirs.

Webster's definition of arrogance: "an insulting way of thinking or behaving that comes from believing that you are better, smarter, or more important than other people". You believe that you know better, otherwise, you wouldn't grant yourself the social authority to intrude on people's boundaries, invalidate their experience, and correct them uninvited. You believe that you are smarter, otherwise, you wouldn't automatically assume the dominant social role of corrector. You behave as though you are the more important member of the relationship because your main priority is YOUR need to feel better (about your skills or about what others believe) while overlooking the other person's needs. Seems like you fit the definition quite well.

Despite that, I wouldn't call you arrogant because I understand that small-mindedness is a difficult problem to overcome. I see the effort that you're putting in to understand it. I'm charitable because I'm not the one who was hurt by your behavior. When people feel hurt, they often have difficulty expressing it. Maybe it comes out clumsily or they aren't able to explain their hurt without hurting you in return. Expressing one's true feelings is to make oneself vulnerable. If someone doesn't trust you to understand and validate their feelings or, worse, they believe that you will attack them for their feelings, they will not be completely honest with you. Your mom is trying her best to give you the benefit of the doubt by saying "if you were a stranger...", but she doesn't feel comfortable enough with you to express her hurt fully and explicitly as it happens. Why? Because the very reason she is hurt in the first place is that you have shown very little regard for her feelings. Following from the previous post of yours, the root of the problem is that you have such a poor understanding of feelings to begin with that you view them as inconsequential in yourself and others (very immature Fe).

I believe you have no ill-intent. I have said before that the typical Ti dom never sets out to hurt people on purpose. Rather, they hurt people unintentionally because their perspective is too small: 1) they don't grasp that other people's needs may be very different from their own and thereby fail to consider them, 2) they don't know how to empathize with different perspectives and validate them, and/or 3) they don't understand that SHOWING love and care is necessary for people to justify continued investment in the relationship.

In other words, Ti doms tend to hurt people out of negligence or acts of omission. Some of them get frustrated at not being able to solve their relationship problems. They might try to convince themselves that doing nothing means that no harm can be done, so they adopt a passive stance in the relationship and perhaps even train themselves to keep their mouth shut (self-violence). They fail to understand that there's more than one way to cause hurt. Instead of learning better relationship skills, they check out mentally and emotionally. Being checked out only makes it worse because you hurt yourself and you keep hurting others by being even less attentive to their needs.

The foundation of meaningful relationships is showing care. In a healthy relationship, people trust you to care for their emotional needs and not violate their personal boundaries. If you only attend to your own needs/wants in social interaction, you are signalling that you don't really care about the other person. This problem with your mom shows that you give little to no consideration for emotional needs and personal boundaries. If you don't want friends, it's entirely your choice to be alone for the rest of your life, pretending that you never leave any footprints behind you. If you want friends, you'll have to put out more effort to be a better friend, by paying more attention to the consequences of your behavior.

Doing things that violate trust and boundaries, even if unintentional, causes hurt. When people feel hurt and don't feel safe to express the hurt, they are liable to say/do negative things. To have good emotional intelligence is to see past the surface of their negative words/behavior and grasp the underlying emotional needs that were unmet and/or the personal boundaries that were violated. Only then can you be a morally responsible member of a relationship, in terms of owning all the ways that you impact people, both positively and negatively.

Arrogant people don't care about the social impact they produce. As long as they get what they want and don't lose anything, the existence of others is of little importance to them. If your mom is important to you, then learn how to show it better by listening to her when she tells you about her needs/wants. You hyperfocus on the literal meaning of the word "arrogant" and whether it is true/false of you, as though proving it false means that there's nothing wrong. You need to listen to the people you have hurt, if you want to understand why your behavior is hurtful. Alternatively, you need to educate yourself about emotional needs, interpersonal boundaries, and what constitutes un/ethical behavior and why.

#intp #intp relationships #inferior fe #arrogance #small minded #communication #social skills #people skills #emotional intelligence #relationships #ask

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theodora3022 · 4 years

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How bnha boys would ask you out (Big three edition)

Request: Since you watched Season four, can I have some Mirio and Tamaki headcanons? Similar to your "how they ask you out" post before.

I assume you mean separately because I am not comfortable with writing poly.

Pairing: Mirio togata x reader, Tamaki Amajiki x reader

Notes: Reader is their underclassman, a student of 1A, met them during the work-study arc. Condition: the reader is single. Female reader I guess.

Warning: Just big Fluffs.

Mirio Togata

Before

Sunshine. That is what Mirio is, a pure package of warmth and enthusiasm. If you are shy like Tamaki, you would probably envy his outgoing spirits.

He notices you as soon as he first sets foot in your classroom. You sat there with a hand underneath your chin, looks up to your senpais with those shiny eyes. He seen you around the campus before, also seen your exceptional performance at the sports festival.

When they were introduced as the big three, he did not miss that bright light of admiration in your eyes. Congratulations, you successfully peaked Mirio’s interests. During his short speech, his eyes would circle around the classroom, resting on you for a few more seconds.

When he trained with you that afternoon, whether you are a long-ranged or melee combatant, Mirio would knock you down the first chance he got. Would not want you to hurt yourself recklessly, right? He also thinks how you try to counter him is absolutely adorable.

Nejire and Tamaki notices the extra attention Mirio is giving you. While Neijire would tease him and jokes about it, Tamaki just silently assess you with his intense glare. Mirio is happy that they both think of you as a hard-working kohai, and their approval is just icing on the cake.

After the beat-up training, Mirio approaches you causally and ask you to train together sometime. To make his intentions seems less suspicious, he also extends that invitation to Midoriya.

After a couple of training sessions, you start to warm up to him. You no longer seen him only as Togata Senpai, just Mirio the friendly upperclassman. But he is still not satisfied with the result.

His quirk is made for stalking. I do not accept counter arguments. You all seen how he scares Midoriya Izuku. Probably stalks you as a pastime, you wonder if you are losing your sanity since you always feel like someone is watching you.

During

After another intense afterschool training session, Mirio would ask you to get dinner with him in the city.

“You’re working so hard lately; you deserve a break! Why don’t we go get a bite in the city? My treat.”

You accept delightfully, did not think of it as a date. Just your upperclassman friend treating you with something tasty. You chatted with him about all sorts of things, such as your homework. It feels nothing more then hanging out with a pal.

It is when he tries to kiss you on your way back, you realize something is off.

If you accept, he will become eccentric. You thought the normal Mirio is energic enough, but this mode, good gracious.

Lifting you up by the knees with his strong arms, he will give you a bright smile that can make you blind. “Oh! My dearest (y/n)! Thank you, thank you, thank you! We’re going to be the cutest couple!”

If you flinch and distance yourself from him, that is another story.

“(y/n), not going to kiss your date goodnight?”

When you explain you see him nothing more then a friend, Mirio would laugh. It honestly creeps you out since you expect him to yell, or even show you a hint of anger. Then he would bid you goodnight as if nothing is wrong.

The next day you found an elaborate flame rose bouquet on you desk, without a single clue of who the sender is. Mina would start rambling about how sweet your secret admirer is, but you just felt shivers down your spine.

You texted him. “Can we talk?”

“Of course, anything for you.”

When you meet him in a nearby café few hours after, his usual enthusiastic attitude is still present. The sunshine boy sure knows how to hide any stormy clouds.

Mirio urges you to reconsider, sing you praises that made you blush like mad. You told him you would. “I just never thought of you in that way, but I guess there’s no harm in trying.”

Once the sunflower got you, he will spoil you, probably not with expensive gifts, but with all of his attention.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tamaki Amajiki

I relate to him on so many levels, you have no idea

Before

If his best friend is the sun, shines proudly with endless energy, Tamaki is the moon, shy and would hide behind clouds. (I love this analogy you cannot blame me)

Just like Mirio as soon as he saw you in 1A classroom you got his attention.

Nejire and Mirio would notice how his gaze linger on you more then others, and tease relentlessly until Tamaki is flustered mess.

He asks Mirio to go easy on you on the beat-up training, but Mirio said if you want to get strong, he should not.

It takes a while to get Tamaki even say hello to you, however his eyes will not be left you when you are in the same room as him.

Surprise, surpise, it’s Nejire who come asking for your number, when you ask her why she needs it, she just tilts her head and say: “Tamaki said he wants to train with you sometimes! Here’s his number for you.”

If you are aware of the surroundings you could find a red-cheeked ravenette hiding in the shadows. You wonder why you, out of all your classmates who all have just as much potential.

Tamaki likes to observe small details. How you wave at your friends, how you dash through the hallways as the bells rang, how your sight follow pretty butterflies, how the rice sticks on your chin at lunch time. He got it all down.

You need to text him first, no doubts here. “It’s kouhai (y/n). Hado Senpai said you want to train together? When are you free?”

He felt he has been run over by a train. Is this what having a crush is like? No wonder why people act so stupid while in love.

His reply would be short. Tamaki is not doing that to be rude, he is just at a loss of words. Even though you would never ignore him even if he made typos.

When you offer him a bottle of water after training, he would freeze. After ten seconds or so, he would snap back, take your gift, and mutter “thank you” before running away, leaving you there confused.

From then on you two would text on a regular basis. You ask him to help with your homework and training, he would ask you about how to deal with social anxiety (if you are outgoing like his best friend). You figured he is a lot more expressive through texts then in person, even though you still need to initiate conversions most of the time.

Tamaki starts to check his phone so often, even when he is at work with Fat Gum. The pro hero would also tease him (poor him, just endless teasing) about his “little girlfriend”. The older man laughs as Tamaki stutter how you two are only friends.

During

After he answers some of your questions concerning an assignment, Tamaki offers to buy you ice cream. You met him by the gate, in your casual clothes.

As you two are walking back licking your treats, you notice how his dark hair has fallen in front because of the afternoon breeze.

“Ah, your hair is getting in the way. Let me help you.” Your fingers brush his face lightly as you tug strands of raven hair behind his pointy ears. His blush confirms your suspicions. Rumors has been swirling around about you two being more then regular friends, since Tamaki never spends much time with anyone apart from his two best friends.

“(y/n) ...” He dips his head as he finishes the ice cream, screaming inside. What if you say no? How is he going to face you afterwards? What if you say YES by some insane fluke?

“Would you...consider d-doing this s-some other time? W-with me, I mean.” Tamaki instantly regretted it as soon as it comes out. He seen enough rom com to know this is not how you ask a girl out.

If you said “Yes, of course!”, Tamaki would panic. He was not expecting you to, he seen how the other boys in school gazes at you. “Can you pinch me, please?” The sharp pain confirms this is all real, not some wild dream. Very insecure, he would get jealous easily. If you have male friends, he will not interfere (you need your own space too). but if you are being hit on in front of him, Tamaki would like you to kiss him on the cheek and proudly proclaims that you are taken.

If you turn him down, Tamaki’s expression turns grim and he said he understand. Of course, who would love him when they got so many other better options?

Tamaki would not attempt to court you like Mirio. To him your happiness is his top priority, his personal feelings comes after. If you are happy, Tamaki is content. To him if you love someone, you need to ensure they are happy no matter what (such selfless love is true love). If you eventually come around, he would be over the moon. Tamaki would bury his face in your chest, saying “thank you” over and over again, and hug you like he would never let go.

The shy ravenette may be timid and emotionally vulnerable, but Tamaki is the kindest soul you will ever find. Treat him with lots of affections and he will give you triple in return.

These boys are just so lovable aren’t they? Honestly I won’t say no to either of them...

#bnha #bnha headcanons #bnha mirio togata #bnha tamaki amajiki #bnha imagines #bnha reader insert #mirio togata x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader

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carelessannie · 3 years

Text

maybe it goes like this: steve builds his pack (part 3)

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Read on A03

Read the Tony courts Peter wip

Stuckony (focus), Stony, Winteriron, Stucky

A finale to the sweet, slightly angsty backstory in three parts (ending in Stuckony).

Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, Dirty dancing, Steve’s got a grip on Tony’s balls

Maybe it goes like this:

Tony doesn’t miss having a pack.

This is the lie he tells himself as he sees a sweet, intimate pack sharing a day out in the city, and later, a young, familial pack with a few pups eating ice cream in the park.

He can vaguely remember his parents buying him ice cream— or maybe he had snuck ice cream out of the kitchen— and eating that alone once. He doesn’t let himself dwell on that for too long.

And being a part of a familial pack by association hasn’t been the worst. He knows worse.

It wasn’t even that his pack growing up had been that bad. Maybe a little emotionally detached, sure, but he’s old enough now to recognize it wasn’t his pack that made the mistake— it was him.

He’s the one who decided to leave after graduating college, convinced that at the mature age of eighteen that he could conquer the world by himself.

Good job, Tony. Where has that left you?

Tony smiles, remembering his dad’s words: Your mistakes are outweighed by your effort to correct them; the damage done is outweighed by your success.

From that day until his dad’s death two years later, his dad was one of his best friends.

Wow, that’s sad.

He’s thankful that his dad followed his own mantra, making up for decades of indifference with calculated companionship and counsel in the last years he had with his family.

Tony guesses that if he had cancer, he would do something similar.

Tony used to tell his dad everything: all of his ideas, dreams and hopes for the company. Everything, that is, except his desire for a pack. And his dad, in turn, made sure he was prepared to take over Stark Industries, and had transferred his personal assistant, Pepper Potts, to Tony once he could no longer work in the office.

After his dad’s death, things took a while to get better. He eventually reconnected with Rhodey, his college roommate from MIT. The Air Force Colonel hadn’t been in his Ado-pack out of college, thank merciful god, but they were roommates for a few years and Rhodey had always treated him like a younger brother.

He understands now why his friend was out of touch for so long— his military career took precedence until he accepted a position in New York, working in intelligence. He’s proud of Rhodey, honestly, but had always felt abandoned by his friend. And Tony was also a little bit disappointed when the older man refused to form a pack with him.

“Tony, be realistic,” Rhodey had planted his hands on his hips, giving a twenty-three year old Tony his best disappointed Colonel look, “we aren’t compatible. It would never work.”

It was a repeat argument between them, and had only escalated since Rhodey started dating Pepper a few months earlier.

It wasn’t a secret that Tony was jealous.

“I am being realistic! We’re together all the time, and it would be so easy for you guys to move into my place,” he was desperate, hoping for something he could never have.

Rhodey had sighed, “Dammit Tones. You know I don’t think this is a good idea…” but Tony had jumped on his friend’s hesitation, and eventually convinced the young mates to move in with him.

Two years later, they’re still living with him in his penthouse.

Tony feels alone, sure, but living platonically with a young familial pack is better than living by himself. Or, god forbid it, with a toxic intimate pack.

He shudders as he tightens his tie, taking a long look in the mirror, shaking off the last of his thoughts. Tonight’s a good night.

His suit is tailored perfectly— accentuating his waist and shoulders, lengthening his legs in expensive slacks, and completed with his favorite burgundy tie and gold cufflinks. Damn he looks good. With a wink he’s through the door, heading to the garage and grabbing his wallet off the counter.

He takes the Lambo, because why not and shows up only fifteen minutes late, tossing his keys to the valet and skipping up the stairs to the Met.

A few people try to talk to him on the way in, and he gives away a couple smiles, weaving through the crowd to find his friends and making his way up to the Great Hall and Balcony.

“Tony!” a familiar voice calls across the Hall, and Tony spins to find the happy couple heading his way.

“Rhodey! Pep! What a crazy party, congratulations,” he pulls both of them into a hug, giving Pepper a brief kiss on the cheek, and then, at Rhodey’s pouty-face, swooping in and giving him one too.

Pepper giggles, squeezing her fiancée’s cheek when he recoils in disgust, “Thank you, Tony. And thank you, again, for pulling the strings necessary to get this place— it’s absolutely breathtaking.”

“Hey, it was no problem,” Tony deflects, forcing his smile a little wider, “they set up the sculpture court, right? Pep, I know you’re gonna love that—”

Rhodey’s smile is back, and he laughs, clapping Tony on the shoulder, “Yeah, Tones, they gave us the tour when we got here, it’s great.”

“Good, good, that’s… good.” Tony awkwardly pauses, and his friends exchange a look, Pepper winking — which is terrifying— before smiling secretly.

Both of them turn, and Rhodey motions behind him, “Hey, I’ve gotta find someone. You’ll stay put?” he gives a pointed look to Tony, disappearing before he can respond.

Pepper shakes her head affectionately, grabbing Tony’s hand as he tries to escape. He whines a bit, turning his best innocent eyes on her, “But Pep, I haven’t even had a drink yet. And he wants me to meet people.”

“Hush. You trust us, right?”

Unfortunately, yes.

“Ah, great,” Rhodey comes up to them, towing someone else. Okay, understatement. Towing a large, hunk of a man behind him, filling out his Army blues like they were designed with his body in mind. He’s young— baby faced and adorable— completely out of his depth, probably. His smile actually looks genuine, because Tony can easily see the confusion breaking through his perfectly clear complexion.

Damn, Tony wants a bite.

“Tony, I’d like you to meet my friend, Captain Steve Rogers,” Steve puts forward his hand, and Tony grasps it as Rhodey continues, “... and Steve, this is Tony Stark, my best man.”

Steve looks appropriately stunned. He places his left hand right over top of where they are still joined, and meets Tony’s gaze with a small nod, “Mr. Stark, it’s a pleasure.”

If Tony wasn’t so sure this man was the most dominant piece of military Alpha in the room, he’d ask the good Captain to get on his knees. And beg. Fuck. As it stands, he’s never felt this enamored and respected in an initial meeting— damn, this man knows how to make a first impression.

“Tony, please,” he corrects, smirking into Steve’s beautiful face, “and the pleasure’s all mine, Captain.”

He waits for Steve to release their hands, but all he gets is a similar smirk in return. The larger man squeezes where their hands are joined, brushing his thumb over Tony’s knuckles, and leans in to murmur, “You can call me Captain all night long.”

He releases Tony from the magnetic hold on his hand, and Tony is slightly embarrassed to feel his face heat up, and clears his throat. It’s been years since someone could fluster him like this, and this man has been able to do it in seconds. Before Tony can respond, Steve adds, a little louder for the public ear, “—but just stick with Steve for now.”

“Alright, Steve— how do you know…” and as Tony goes to bring Rhodey and Pepper back into the conversation, he realizes that the couple has left without a word. Tricky bastards.

Steve doesn’t seem phased, though, and answers the question as if Tony had even bothered to finish it,

“I met Jim a year ago during my summer post in Taiwan— both of us were stationed there, doing a few months of consulting for specialized ops, and were fast friends. I swear, Jim was my only buddy over there, and he’s one of the most honorable men I’ve ever met,” the smile that follows his words is soft and remembering, “how about you, Tony?”

“Rhodey and I were roommates at MIT— he’s always been my big brother, and both him and Pep live with me now—”

“Oh,” Steve interrupts, “I didn’t realize you were pack, I just assumed—”

“No, definitely not,” Tony stops him, laughing to help lighten the sensitive subject, “I don’t have a pack. But if we were compatible, I think the two of them would be it for me. It just… it doesn’t work for us,”

Steve shakes his head, a serious expression falling over his features, “No, I get it, that’s personal— I shouldn’t have brought it up. Please, can I— can I grab you a drink?”

Tony resists the urge to reach out and grab his arm, to reassure Steve that there’s no harm done, but instead agrees, “Sure, yes— uh… why don’t you surprise me?”

The flirty, light smile is back, and Steve easily agrees, leaving Tony to find the open bar. He’s thankful for the time to process, easily dismissing a few guests who try to start a conversation with him.

How could Rhodey have kept this guy hidden for so long? Tony barely got a whiff of him, almost getting enough scent to determine compatibility, but not quite. How old is this guy, anyway? And Army? What is Rhodey thinking?

“Here ya go,” Steve’s voice breaks through his thoughts, and he jumps a bit, turning to see the Captain holding two glasses and wearing an unsure smile,

“Damn, Steve— warn a guy?” and he grins playfully, thankful to see Steve laugh along. Tony makes a grab for the glasses, and Steve pulls them out of his reach, laughing even harder, before handing Tony the low tumbler with dark amber liquid and a single orange peel garnishing the top.

Tony peers back up at Steve, “Old Fashioned? With—” he takes a sip.

“Bourbon,” Steve answers before Tony can, and sweet lord, this man has good taste.

Swirling the drink gently, Tony hums and closes his eyes at the taste. Just like his dad used to make.

“I’m glad you like it,” the low voice adds to the moment, and for just one second, Tony allows himself to get lost in the fantasy of drinking sweet Bourbon in his den, with a strong, blonde man by his side.

He opens his eyes to reality, “It’s perfect, Steve,” earning him a satisfied hum in return, “now tell me, what are you drinking this evening?”

“Oh, well—” Steve looks a little hesitant, holding up his larger glass for inspection, “it’s called a Tom Collins.”

“A craving for something sour, Captain?” Tony takes a step closer, sipping his drink slowly.

Steve licks his lips, “I like a good balance,” he takes a long drink of his gin, “and the orange is my favorite part.”

Tony watches his mouth move, admiring his full bottom lip as it’s tugged back by his teeth, breathing in the faint scent of Coffee and Thunderstorms, “You know what,” Tony dips his head forward, peering up at Steve through his lashes, “the orange is my favorite part as well.”

There’s a sharp clink clink clink sound, and the moment is broken between them as attention is called back to the engagement. Tony realizes, regrettably, that he’s supposed to be up front, and gives Steve one last desperate look before leaving to address the crowd.

After the party, he searches for Steve. He asks Pepper, and then Rhodey— both of whom haven’t seen Steve since their introduction earlier.

“Sorry, Tones, but if you want to see him—”

“No, no,” Tony dismisses the suggestion, “it doesn’t— don’t worry about it, it’s— I’m okay, I’m fine, alright? All good.”

Rhodey tries to protest, but Tony just ignores him, kissing Pepper goodbye as he makes a hasty retreat out of the museum. If he can get home first, maybe they won’t ask him to talk about his feelings.

---

Tony doesn’t miss having a pack.

It’s been exactly a year since Pepper and Rhodey moved out, and Stark Industries has never been stronger.

Probably because every spare moment he has is poured right back into his company.

Every. Spare. Moment.

Which is probably why Tony’s late for his best friend’s wedding.

It had been a rough night— Rhodey had insisted on staying up late to bar hop, and their small bachelor party had torn up the most cutting edge and expensive bars all throughout New York City. The downside, unfortunately, is that coming back home at 4 AM— drunk and somehow already hungover— leads to the absolute worst morning a twenty-seven year old could ask for.

So honestly, it’s not Tony’s fault that he shows up a half hour late, barely dressed in his tux, and sunglasses practically taped to his face.

His saving grace ends up being Rhodey. Again.

An assistant meets him at the door, ushering him into the dressing rooms, and tugging off his tux as he moves. He’s handed a cup with a vague order to drink, and the sunglasses are unceremoniously tugged from his face. He struggles a bit under the attention, but after a few minutes of the world’s worst smoothie, blinding light, pressing, steaming, ironing, shaving, and makeup application that will not be mentioned again— Tony is shoved into a larger room with the rest of the bridal party.

Before he can even begin to apologize, Rhodey is stepping forward,

“Tony, this is the least I owe you, brother.”

The statement alone almost has Tony in tears, and he closes the distance to pull Rhodey into a tight hug, whispering, “My body will never forgive you, Rhodey-bear.”

And the wedding goes on without a hitch from there. Pepper, as it turns out, had told Tony to arrive an hour before he even needed to be there— fully expecting him to arrive late. Because of this, he’s sober and aware when his best friends walk down the aisle. It’s a moment to remember.

Pepper looks like a queen— the Beta wears a perfectly tailored trumpet gown, trimmed with delicate lace and a scalloped neckline. Her mate cries— hell, Tony cries.

And a few hours later, he’s sitting alone at the open bar, swishing his drink and thoughtfully picking at the orange slice at the bottom of the glass. He knows he’s one of the only people avoiding the dance floor, but can’t find it in himself to join the party. Instead, he nurses his glass and silently watches his friends dance and laugh together.

“Tom Collins?”

Tony turns to the voice coming from his left, and is greeted with ice-blue eyes, the sharpest jaw known to man, and a filthy pair of lips.

“Tony, but close.”

“Tony—” his name sounds like sin coming from this man’s mouth, “wanna dance, sugar?”

“I really shouldn’t—”

“— c’mon, sweetheart. You’ve spent enough time with this drink, don’tcha think?”

His glass is stolen by this tempting man, who sets it down with a sweet smile and stands to his feet. He extends a hand, and Tony hesitates. He really shouldn’t— it’s been a long day, and he’s not exactly sober. Plus, Pepper might kill him if he makes a scene.

He takes the man’s hand, “Just one song, got it?” and all he gets is a wicked grin in response before he’s pulled off towards the dance floor.

The song playing is low— thrumming and hot. Most of the younger packs have already checked in for the night, saving their pups from the close grind of desperate bodies, scents mingling in Desire and Arousal. It takes only one sweep of the crowd to notice Pepper and Rhodey in the center, leading their guests in a sinful dance— magnetic and dangerous.

The man from the bar stops at the outer rim of the circle, pausing for a moment to strip off his tie and suit jacket. His eyes sweep over Tony’s appearance, and he steps closer, breath tickling the nape of his neck as he asks, “May I?”

Speechless, Tony nods. He’s surrounded with sweet Oranges and creamy Milk Chocolate as the Omega gently loosens his tie, pulling it over his head and folding it onto the table before slipping his hands up Tony’s shoulders, pushing underneath his jacket, and tracing his arms until the jacket falls, forgotten.

Chest to chest, the Omega looks up through his eyelashes, “Dance with me, Beta.”

Pulled closer to the center of the crowd of moving bodies, Tony keeps the man pressed against his side, then shifts to face him. He’s only an inch taller than this Omega, but the similar height works to their advantage as Tony grabs his hips, starting a slow grind that has the man in front of him clutching at his neck, his hair, and breathing out a sigh.

“Like that, baby?” Tony growls, digging his fingers into the Omega’s hips as they move together, foreheads touching, enjoying the friction and small sounds coming from his partner.

“Don’t stop, please,” Oh, begging sounds divine coming from this younger man’s lips. Tony wants to do absolutely wicked things to this guy.

They move together, the Omega shifting to follow his rhythm and relaxing under Tony’s hold as he moves his right hand higher, scratching his nails along the gentle arch of the man's back, as his left hand moves lower to firmly grip his ass. He squeezes, and the sweet Omega moans Tony into his neck.

“I’ll give you what you need, baby.”

“B— bucky,”

“Bucky?”

He gets a smile in return, along with a particularly dirty move of his hips, “My name is—”

“Bucky?”

A third voice breaks the spell, and Bucky sighs, stopping their dance and putting a bit of space between their bodies— which does absolutely nothing to hide their shared arousal.

“Whaddaya want, Stevie?”

Tony looks over his shoulder to see a hulking, blonde and horrifyingly familiar Alpha standing behind them— arms crossed and a face that screams unamused.

“I wanna know why my mate is putting on a show with—” he finally looks at Tony, and his expression blooms with shock and recognition, “— Mr. Stark. Of fucking course.”

“Language.”

“— shut up Bucky, of course you’d happen to find him of all people…”

“Well,” Bucky starts to defend, “you wouldn’t make a move, so I thought I’d get things started.”

Now Tony’s confused, “Wait, hold up,” he looks between the two men as they glare at each other, “did you… are you trying to get with me?”

The couple turns and looks at Tony like he’s an idiot, Steve gesturing at where he’s still hard in his pants, “You didn’t get that from the reenactment of Dirty Dancing a few minutes ago?”

Bucky lets out a sharp laugh, cutting through the tension, and Steve’s face practically melts at the sight and scent of HappyAmusedOmega. Tony bets his face is doing something similar as he shakes his head in protest, “You guys are really serious? Can we— can we talk somewhere… more private?”

Definitely the wrong thing to say, because Bucky practically cackles in glee, “Darlin’ you can do anything to me in private,” and Steve reaches over to smack him on the shoulder,

“Slow, Bucky,” and he earns an eye roll from his mate, “Tony, let me see your phone.”

Right now, Tony feels like putty in his hands, which is probably why he gives over his unlocked phone without a word. Bucky slings his arm around Tony’s waist, and he notices that the crowd has thinned out, music slower and without the charge from before. Steve types a few things before handing the phone back,

“I put in our numbers— Tony, if you want to see us again, for dinner or even just coffee, please text us,” Steve squeezes his shoulder, and then moves his hand to cup Tony’s elbow, pulling him— and Bucky, by consequence— in closer,

“Tony, I need you to know: you are not obliged to see us again, even though we come on a little strong. You are— we are—”

“You’re all he could talk about tonight, Tony,” Bucky cuts in, turning Tony to look into his eyes, “and maybe you’ve never given him a second thought, but he met ya last year and has been dyin’ to see ya again—”

“— Bucky—” Steve warns,

“No, sorry Alpha, but it needs to be said. Tony, I have a feelin’ the three of us are damn compatible, and it would be a waste not to try. Give us a chance, yeah?” and the silence that follows is paired with twin expressions, eager and hopeful.

“Guys, I…” Tony is tired of being alone. He’s tired of denying what he really wants.

“... I’ll text you soon, okay?”

At the startled look from Steve and whispered oh, okay Tony from Bucky, he flees. He’s a perfect Cinderella alright— too afraid of honest confessions to stick around long.

But maybe he’ll keep his promise.

---

It takes a week for Tony to text them, and he does it as a group message. Both mates seem relieved to hear from him, and set up a date for that weekend, insisting that they pick him up and pay.

It takes two weeks after that, and three more dates, for Tony to realize that they want to formally court him.

A month after they start courting Tony, he asks about their intentions.

“I’ve gotta wonder, guys— are you really that serious about building a permanent pack? Or is this just a seasonal pack for you guys while you’re getting out of the Army?”

Bucky looks hurt by this, but it’s Steve who spells it out.

“I know we’re young, Tony. I mean— you’re not even thirty, Buck is twenty-one and I’m just twenty-two. Look, I know I’m really young to be a pack Alpha. Neither of us have experience leading a pack, but… it’s been something we’ve wanted for a while. It’s the reason Buck and I haven’t bonded yet, and it’s a dream of ours to have an intimate pack to start a family with.”

He’s stunned by Steve’s words. His pack growing up definitely wasn’t intimate, and after his horrible Ado-pack, he had completely dismissed the idea of ever having something like that again. But now.

“Tony, darlin’,” Bucky reaches forward to take Tony’s hands, “I think we have something really special, here. It could take years to build our pack, but Steve is pretty sure six is our magic number. Don’t ask me why. And also,” he hesitates, looking down at his hands, "I’ve gotta tell ya somethin’ important. Two things, actually.”

“What is it, sweetheart?” Tony asks, concerned, as Steve gives Bucky a nod of encouragement.

“Well, first of all,” Bucky looks back into Tony’s eyes as he continues, "Steve and I are compatible by memory. Like— when we first scented each other, a few years ago, we had a scent memory. We— we haven’t bonded because of the pack, but we will. And second,” he pauses a moment, “I’m not pack omega.”

“You’re… not?”

“No, I— I’m not a submissive, Tony. I’m Vers and swing submissive for Steve most days. But I can’t fully submit for a pack, and this means there will be a fully submissive Omega who mates with us. And gets— gets to—”

Steve cups his mate’s cheek, “Baby,”

“No, it’s. It’s fine, Stevie, I—” Bucky tries to pull out of Steve’s hold, but the tears are already falling as he rubs them away, “— I just can’t. I can’t give you pups.”

Oh. Oh. Tony did not know that.

Bucky is tucked under Steve’s arm as the Alpha continues to explain, “When we bond as a pack, if we decide to bond, it’s very likely that only the submissive pack Omega will pup for the pack Alpha. It was— hard, you know? Realizing that Buck and I can’t have a family—”

At this, Bucky buries his face in his hands and lets out a single sob,

“— but we’re willing to give that up if it means having the perfect pack, okay?”

Tony is shocked. He guesses it makes sense that the pack Alpha and Omega would be biologically directed to mate together. It seems unfair, though, that a scent compatible, soulmate pair wouldn’t be able to start a family. But—

“What about other bonded members?”

Both men look up at Tony in confusion, “What do you mean?” Steve asks.

“I mean, what if two other packmates decided to mate. Is there a chance they would pup?”

Bucky still looks confused, but Steve’s face lights up in understanding,

“You mean, what if we all bonded— would you and Bucky be able to get pregnant?”

“Wait, is it possible?” the hope in Bucky’s eyes is devastating as he looks between Alpha and Beta, gripping onto Steve’s arm with fresh tears shining on his cheeks, “could I still have pups?”

“It’s possible, Buck, but I have no idea.”

Bucky ignores Steve’s response and stands from his seat, moving quickly to Tony and straddling his lap, throwing his arms around the Beta’s neck. Tony steadies him with arms around his waist, and rocks them gently as Bucky starts to cry into his neck.

After a few minutes, Steve looking at them with overwhelming affection, Bucky’s tears run out and he sniffles into Tony’s neck, “Thank you, my Beta.”

“For what?”

The Omega pulls away, pushing Tony’s hair out of his face as his smile widens,

“Giving me hope.”

---

In May, Bucky finally graduates from West Point, and decides to work in engineering in the city. Steve has been working with Rhodey in “intelligence” for a year, and Tony finally feels happy.

They spend most of their time at Steve and Bucky’s apartment in Red Hook. Tony doesn’t mind the drive, and absolutely hates being alone in his penthouse— plus, he’s come to actually like Brooklyn. And if he spends his free time searching for the perfect spot to build a house, no one has to know.

And it works fine for now, because Steve still insists on taking it slow— although if Bucky and Tony had it their way, the three of them would already be mated. It sometimes feels like just the two of them are dating and Steve’s their chaperone, drawing boundary lines of, “Hey, clothes stay on, boys,” and, “Bucky, get off Tony’s lap, I swear to god.”

So Tony corners Steve.

Or more accurately, Steve is fixing them dinner and Tony pins him to the counter from behind, grinding up into his ass and growling.

He feels Steve stiffen beneath him, and Tony laces their fingers together where Steve’s are resting on the counter, nibbling on the back of his neck inches from his bonding spot.

“What’re you doin’ Tony.” it’s barely a question, and Tony just tightens his grip and bucks his hips forward, letting Steve feel his arousal.

Steve growls in response and turns in his arms, breaking Tony’s hold. He looks into the Alpha’s eyes, blazing red, and Steve slowly prowls forward, backing Tony into the fridge. His arms come up to frame Tony’s face as his back hits, forcing eye contact and baring his teeth in a predatory smile.

One of his hands reaches lower, gripping Tony and causing the Beta to groan at the friction, “Is there something you want, baby?” Tony shakes his head, losing the confidence from earlier, but Steve continues, “you need to use your words, Tony. I can’t help ya if you don’t tell me what you need.”

Ooo, Tony’s blood burns with the challenge, and he rocks forward into Steve’s grip, his own hands reaching forward to hold onto the Alpha’s shoulders. Steve presses in closer, and Tony licks a small stripe up his throat, stopping centimeters from his ear, “I need you, Alpha. Why can’t I have you?”

“Oh, Tony,” Steve chuckles, releasing his grip and sliding both hands around to cup Tony’s ass, pulling them closer until their fronts are pressed together, betraying Steve’s obvious interest, “you can have me all you want, baby. I just need something from you first.”

“Yes, Steve. Fucking anything.”

He’s pushed away, back hitting the fridge as Steve steps back, “Be ours. Promise it. Move in with us, and then we’ll mate.”

“Alpha,”

“Those are my terms, Beta,” Steve puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder, pushing him out of the kitchen and into the living room, “and until then, let me finish cooking and go keep Buck company, okay?”

He doesn’t wait for a response, and turns back to his meal while Tony stands frozen in the doorway. He can see Bucky lounging on the couch, wrapped in soft blankets and pretending he hadn’t just heard their whole conversation. He sees the way Steve moves around the kitchen, natural and dominant in his home— caring and providing for his pack.

For my pack, Tony thinks to himself.

“I’m yours.”

Both sets of eyes are on him, and Steve drops everything in his hands. He sees Bucky stand up from the couch.

Steve takes a step towards him, “W— what did you say?”

“I said— I’m yours. And you’re… you’re mine. My pack,” he looks into Steve’s eyes as the taller man steps into his space, “My Alpha.”

He hears a soft exhale, and feels Bucky grab his arm. Tony turns, “and My Omega.”

“My Beta,” Bucky breathes,

Steve kisses the Omega’s cheek, smiling wide, and pulls Tony into his arms,

“Ours.”

No, Tony doesn’t miss having a pack. But here— wrapped up in between his Alpha and Omega— he’s wanted, he’s safe, and he finally belongs.

#stuckony #stony #winteriron #getting together #stucky #steve x tony x bucky #d/s fic #slight nff #fanfic #completed #bucky barnes #steve rogers #tony stark #mood board #MiGLT #omegaverse

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hamiltonimagines · 4 years

Text

I’ve Missed You

Pairing: Anthony x Reader

Summary: Anthony and Y/N have just broke up and Anthony’s mom invites Y/N over without Anthony’s knowledge

Word Count: 2k

It had been about two weeks since Anthony and I broke up and we hadn’t told anyone yet. Not our families or our friends. The only person who knew was Lin, but we hadn’t even told him, he had figured it out and we made him promise not to tell anyone else.

Anthony and I had broken up because he had gotten too busy. I didn’t get to see him enough. Like when he was on tour, he just wouldn’t call for a few days or he’d miss our FaceTime calls. It didn’t seem like he wanted to put in the effort. Regardless of that, I still loved him. Even though, I was the one who broke up with him.

I was sitting on my couch and suddenly I heard my phone start to ring. I picked up my phone and saw that Anthony’s mom was calling me. Had Anthony told her yet? Or did she still have no idea we broke up?

I answered the phone and said “Hi Mrs.Ramos, how are you?”. I didn’t know what else to say. What if I said too much and Anthony didn’t want her to know yet? “Hi Y/N sweetheart. I’m good, how are you?” She said.

Then an idea popped in my head. What if something happened to Anthony and that’s why she was calling. I couldn’t stand the thought of something bad happening to him.

“I’m good too, so what’s going on? Is Anthony okay?” I said, feeling worried. “Oh yes Anthony is fine. No need to worry. I was just calling to see if you wanted to come over tomorrow?” She asked me, sounding really happy. There was no way she knew about Anthony and I if she wanted to invite me over.

I didn’t want to be the one to tell her, but I knew I would be overstepping on Anthony if I made plans with her and didn’t tell her what happened. I would never purposely do anything that would hurt him.

“Um Mrs.Ramos, I don’t know if Anthony told you yet. But we broke up a few weeks ago” I said and there was silence for a few seconds. “No, he hadn’t told me, but I had my suspicions. He hasn’t talked about you for a few weeks” she said.

“Has he been talking about another girl?” I said, feeling my heart drop. “No no no, sweet girl. Don’t even worry about that for a second, I know my son and I know he still loves you. I don’t know what happened with you both, but I know he still has feelings for you. He jumps every time his phone goes off, hoping that it’s you” She told me, kindly.

I could feel the blush rising in my cheeks. It really meant a lot to me that he still cared. I really wished that things could of worked out, I wanted nothing more than to call him mine again.

“Oh thank you for telling me that Mrs.Ramos. I just don’t know if we can fix what happened between us” I told her, honestly. “Love can heal all wounds” she said, being optimistic as always.

“So I don’t know if you still want me to come over or not” I said, confused. “No please come over. You’re still family and I haven’t seen you in so long. We can have another girls day” she told me.

Back when Anthony and I were dating, every month I would have a girls day with his mom and we would do something fun like watch movies or do our nails. It had been really important to Anthony that me and his mom had a good relationship. He always said that he wanted his two favorite girls to get along. And he was the same way with my parents and he came with me to a monthly dinner with my parents.

“That sounds wonderful, but I don’t want to overstep. I wouldn’t want to do this behind Anthony’s back. He doesn’t deserve that” I said, cautiously. “The love you have for my son says a lot. But just come over to my house, he won’t be here” she told me. “Okay then I’ll see you tomorrow” I told her, smiling. Then we both said goodbye and hung up.

I felt really nervous about the whole thing, but I guess no harm could come from hanging out with his mom. I pulled out my phone and began to look through all the old photos of me and Anthony. I couldn’t bring myself to delete them and I found myself going through them daily.

We both looked so happy and carefree. I wished with everything in my heart that we could be like that again.

I wiped away a few tears from my eyes and found something on Netflix to watch and distract myself. I ended up watching Netflix all night and then falling asleep on my couch.

I woke up to the beeping of my phone’s alarm clock. I got up and got dressed into a sundress and some heeled boots. I grabbed my phone and then drove to Anthony’s mom’s house.

I parked and saw there were a bunch of cars outside already, I wondered what was going on. I walked up to the door and as I knocked I remembered that today was Anthony’s dad’s birthday. His mom had invited me to a family birthday party, not a girls day. I went to turn and leave and the door opened.

There stood Anthony and his eyes widened when he saw me. “Y/N” he mumbled under his breath, seemingly in shock. “Hi Ant” I said, just as shocked. Neither of us could come up with words to say anything.

Then another person appeared from behind Anthony. I saw his mom standing there.

She swore under her breath and said “Oh Anthony, I forgot to tell you that I invited Y/N”. I couldn’t believe that she tricked me into coming, but I was also really glad I got to see Anthony.

“Ma, why did you invite her?” He asked, turning to face her. I instantly felt bad, he didn’t want me to be here. I said “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here” and I turned to leave. I wiped a singular tear from my eye.

I heard someone say “Wait don’t go” and then grab my wrist from behind me. Not even thinking, I figured it was his mom. I turned around to see Anthony, standing a few inches in front of me.

“Please stay” he said, just above a whisper. My eyes went between him and his mom, unsure of what to say. He turned around and said “Ma, can you give us a a second?”. She smiled and walked back inside and closed the door.

He turned back to face me and I could feel my cheeks redden. “Hi” he said, softly. “I’ve missed you Ant” was all I could say. “Can we talk?” He asked, I could hear his voice crack a little. “Please” I said, it sounded like I was begging him.

But, I had so much on my mind and I had to talk to him. He interlaced our fingers and started walking towards the bench that was in their front yard. Then he quickly pulled away his hand. I was worried I did something wrong. “I’m sorry, old habits” he said, looking down at the ground almost like he was embarrassed.

“Don’t be” I said softly, and interlaced our hands again. I don’t know what made me do it, maybe I just wanted to pretend things were still normal.

We got to the bench and we sat down next to each other. “Ant, I’m going to be honest. Nothing has felt the same without you. My life feels boring and I’ve missed you so much. It’s only been two weeks, but it feels like years. But, we can’t go back to the way things were. You made me feel ignored and you didn’t spend enough time with me. If we’re going to be together, we have to put in the same amount of effort” I said, pouring my heart out to him.

“I know, I really messed up and you shouldn’t have to deal with that. You deserve someone who will treasure you because you’re amazing Y/N. If you give me a chance, I will make things right. I’ll give you all of my time and I will make sure you feel loved. But I’m begging you to just give me a chance” he said, emotionally.

“I know you will do all those things, you make me feel so happy” I said, interlacing our fingers again. “Does that mean you’ll give me a chance?” He asked, with hope in his eyes. I just smiled and nodded. He stood up and picked me up and spun me around. He placed me back down on my feet.

“Thank you thank you thank you, I love you so much” he said placing kissing all over my face. “I love you too Ant” I said. We both were staring into each other’s eyes. “Y/N, I really want to kiss you right now. But I think we need some privacy, one of my family members could walk out here at any point” he said, softly. “Do you think we can sneak past your family to the guest room?” I asked him.

“Well we’ve done it before” he said, smirking. “Then come on you dork” I said grabbing his hand. We snuck in the door and passed everybody into the guest bedroom.

He closed the door gently, behind us. I pulled him toward me and wrapped my arms around his neck. He placed his hands firmly on my hips and we leaned our foreheads against each other’s

“I’ve missed your kisses” I told him, softly. “Well then come and get them” he said and we both leaned in and connected our lips. I subconsciously played with his hair. He pulled me closer until we were pressed together.

I started backing up, pulling him with me. I sat down on the bed and he lightly pushed me so that I was laying down. He crawled on top of me and gave me a gentle kiss.

He stayed, hovering over me and brushed my hair behind my ear. “If you had any idea how beautiful you look right now” he said, with the biggest smile on his face.

“I’ve missed you so much. I’ve missed waking up to your kisses. I’ve missed having dance parties with you at midnight. I’ve missed cuddling with you when we watch movies. I’ve missed singing with you in the car. Life isn’t as interesting without you around Anthony Ramos” I said, and he kissed my forehead.

“God, do you know how adorable you are? When we get back to my place tonight, we’re going to cuddle all night, no exceptions” he said, sweetly. “I am all for it, two weeks is a lot of cuddling that we’ve missed” I said, giggling.

Then the door sprung open and Anthony jumped so he was sitting next to me on the bed. I sat up and saw that it Anthony’s mom.

“They’re back together” she yelled and we heard the rest of his family start cheering. Both of our cheeks became bright red.

Then his mom marched over to Anthony and we both got kind of nervous. “If you ever ignore Y/N again, you don’t even want to know what will happen” she threatened.

“Woah ma, what are you talking about?” He asked, flinching. “Your uncle was outside smoking a cigarette and he heard you two talking. He heard that Y/N said you made her feel ignored. She is the best thing that ever happened to you mister. You better not mess that up” she said.

“I promise ma, I’m not stupid enough to do that again. I love her too much” he said, as he interlaced our fingers. “Good” she said and then she left the room. “Is all that’s stuff you said to your mom true?” I asked him. “Of course it is babe. I already lost you once, I’m not going to lose you again” he said and he pressed a kiss to my temple.

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newhologram · 3 years

Text

I know only a few of you are on IG so I wanted to give an update here on the past few days. I am doing this knowing the potential risk but I need to also record where I'm at right now in case anything weird happens.

My week has been like this so far. Sunday: Family Member 1 misplaced their Xbox controller. They kept asking me if I knew where it was, each time growing more and more aggressive. I don't have an Xbox, I reminded them. I have my own controller for my PC. But they kept knocking loudly on my door. They followed me outside where I was vaping and tried to accuse me of I don't even know what. Pawning off their controller? FM1 said, "Is there something going on that you're not telling me? SOMEONE'S messing with me!" Later that night they and their gf were making dinner. FM1 suddenly knocked harshly on my door and said aggressively, "WHAT DID YOU DO WITH THE OVEN MITTS" in an angry voice. I was already stressed from them harassing me earlier about the controller. I came out of my room, heart racing, and told them I had not used them that day. I helped find the mitts, which had fallen behind the trash can because the hanging hook had broken. I went to bed on edge, feeling unsafe and targeted, wondering why my family member was suddenly acting so paranoid and accusing me of misplacing their things... Something they actually have done to me my whole life, denying it until the moment my item is found, when they suddenly remember they did move it there (or accidentally throw it out/destroy it). The controller ended up being some random place in the living room. Monday: I went to leave for my acupuncture appointment. My booster seat/pillow thing was missing from my car. Not in the trunk or anything. I cannot drive without it. I'm too short to see over the steering wheel. I called FM1 and they have no idea where it could be, despite the fact that they drive my car every day. FM1's gf helped find it, in the garage. But I still had an epic fucking meltdown, sobbing the whole way to and from my appointment. I just cannot handle people moving my shit and disrupting my schedule like that. And it just hurt so much more knowing that FM1 was so awful to me the day before about their stuff being misplaced. I'm always having my personal belongings, my feelings, my personhood, disrespected. It hurts deeply. When I got home I stressed to them that this is my car, and my accommodation should not ever be removed from it under any circumstances. It was after this that I decided it was time to hold a family meeting. I called Family Member 2 and 3 over to the house. I read a long letter to them in which I told them about the talks I have had with my therapist, psychiatrist, and another psychologist. Even though I cannot be formally assessed and diagnosed at this time, I am being treated for autism. I detailed to my family my entire life of trauma that is traced back directly to my autistic traits, and my needs not only not being met, but being outright denied. I was denied empathy most of my life for my sensory issues, my pain, everything. A big part of this is gaslighting. Even if it's unintentional or not malicious, gaslighting is incredibly traumatic. Especially when it comes to my sensory issues. I have had even more problems with overstimulation the past year which means I can barely sleep, so my daily naps are even more important. I try to coordinate my naps when there is less activity in my house. But if I'm in a ton of pain and extra sensitive and ask for quiet, that's when I get in trouble and a fight happens. That's when FM1 tells me I "need to be realistic" and "can't expect the whole world to shut up for you"... when I'm literally saying "I have a migraine and need to rest, can you please not play loud music or slam cupboards in the kitchen for a few hours?"

I was emotionally neglected and abused by both parents. A lot of it is just the result of their own trauma that they have not dealt with... But I have also been physically threatened and assaulted by them at different times, though it only happened those specific times. (They won't ever admit to it though.) The emotional and mental abuse still goes on in my home. I am not allowed to have emotions. I have been told "STOP. WHY ARE YOU CRYING. LIFE'S NOT FAIR. WHEN YOU GET OUT IN THE REAL WORLD YOU'LL HAVE SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT" over and over--like... in response to me crying about my pet dying, or in response to me crying bc I'm in horrible pain from my chronic illnesses, or crying after my usual yearly ER visit. I am also not allowed to have boundaries. I have tried to communicate with FM1 that these things hurt me deeply. And their response is basically, "YOU'RE SO UNGRATEFUL. I PUT A ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD!" and threats such as "BETWEEN TAKING CARE OF YOU AND GRANMDA, ONE OF THESE DAYS I'M GOING TO DRIVE OFF AND YOU'LL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN!" or "I'M THE ONE WHO SHOULD KILL MYSELF BECAUSE I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF YOU"-- y'know, in response to having a disabled child. Ouch. The message is clear: I am nothing but an inconvenience and a burden to my family. I still have nightmares about them abandoning me, or abusing me more. I think in their heads they think that they love me. But this isn't love. If I try to talk to them about how dangerous it is for them to say things like that to me, they say "I never said/did that." Which brings us back to the gaslighting: I said that every time they gaslight me and tell me that my emotions/thoughts/experiences aren't real, it triggers me so badly that I self-harm and become suicidal.

I was very clear with them: I said that I can no longer have that in my life because one day it will kill me. I don't wanna die that way. I want to live. I have very bad PTSD and it's something I have worked on for 8 years but it has been worse the past year with so many disruptions and FM1's worsening narcissistic traits. I gave the choice to them. I said if they gaslighted me again that they were making the decision to not be in my life. Because this is about preserving my life. I'm trying not to die here. I'm literally trying to save my own life, even if that means not having a relationship with my family. They accept that I am autistic... But they then took turns gaslighting me. When I pointed out, "that's gaslighting. that's exactly what I just said in my letter. What you're doing is gaslighting" they went even harder on it. They said my experience and my trauma is "not in line with reality". They also said I "need to be reasonable" with the boundary that I'm setting (meaning: they don't believe in boundaries at all). They tried to guilt trip me with, "you can't cut someone out of your life because what if they DIE and then you FEEL GUILTY??" (I mean, what if I killed myself because you keep hurting me? Wouldn't you feel guilty about that?) They also guilt tripped me with "well we TRY to invite you to family stuff, and we try to include you, but you never want to go..." um... I guess they forgot I am chronically ill? Sorry if I don't have the energy or pain tolerance to drive an hour each way to a loud family party after I've worked all week? I cried and cried, I said this is exactly what I told you that you do to me and how it endangers my life... and you're doing it... while telling me you don't do it to me... They were all weird and told me "we love you and would do anything for you!" except... I guess, not gaslight me constantly? Idk. I felt so trapped. I felt so hopeless. I was up all night crying. I wondered, "Why is the idea of me having distance from them somehow worse than me being dead? Why would they prefer that I die rather than set a boundary that will save me?" And then I remembered: I had set the terms. They broke them. You do this, you're out of my life, because me being alive is more important than us having a relationship which will eventually kill me. I'm not trapped. It doesn't matter if they think they can prevent me from setting this boundary because they can't. I'm in charge of my boundary. So I blocked them on social media, as well as their phones. I have to unfortunately keep FM1 unblocked bc I live with them, they drive my car, and they look after my cats while I am at work. If I didn't have so many great things happening behind the scenes, if I didn't have my cats, if I didn't have amazing friends and followers who are supportive and kind... I can definitely see that I would have ended my life that night in some alternate timeline. That is how much pain I was in from them doing that to me. Them literally trying to gaslight me into not setting a boundary. I mean it would've been so ridiculous on their part, can you imagine? Me: Hey family, when you gaslight me, it makes me suicidal. I don't want to die, so either you stop doing that, or we can't have a relationship. Family: UHH NO *gaslights me anyway* Me: ok *kills self* Family: *surprised Pikachu face* Like???? Would they really have been shocked because it seems like they should have known since I told them directly? And that just shows that they really don't take my pain seriously at all. They think I'm overly sensitive and that my trauma is not real. That would have been a painful wake up call for them. I told my therapist all of this. And she agrees that this is good, this is going to not only ween them off of me but also allow me to focus on all the good stuff I have going on. I have to get moving. So much stuff has been lagging because I'm constantly recovering from them triggering me. I'm going to focus, and heal, and gtfo of here. Thank you for your support and for never invalidating my pain.

#teku #personal #d o nut #reba gel #!#donut rebagel plz

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lookbluesoup · 4 years

Text

I’ve seen a lot of talk about anti anti culture lately and an emphasis on canceling people who write stories where bad things happen (i.e., rape, molestation, abuse). I’m really interested in facilitating a positive, open space here on my blog. So sharing my personal opinion about this at all is something I thought about for a while, and my hope is that it offers a helpful perspective as well as solidarity to people who use fiction the same way as me.

It’s not directed at anyone in particular or any event in particular. The tl;dr version is – people should always have a choice, they should be allowed to read or choose not to read, they should be allowed to write and share or choose not to write or share. Taking that choice away from people ultimately hurts survivors by making topics taboo and forcing everyone to fit a specific moral narrative for their pain or experiences to be valid.

Trigger Warnings: Rape, abuse, cancel culture, child molestation, depression, suicide, dogmatic religion, homophobia

1. These things DO happen in real life, and yes, they are harmful, and yes, reading about them can be triggering. Fully, completely acknowledge all of these things and have experienced my share of it firsthand.

2. People should be allowed to know before they get invested in a story whether triggers might be present so that they can choose to avoid it if they want to. It is their choice, and responsibility to decide not to read something that is appropriately tagged. (And please, please tag appropriately!)

3. Being interested in reading about dark subjects does not make a person evil. Somewhere between 31-57 percent of women admit to having rape fantasies. (x) That does not mean women want to be raped in real life. It does not mean that half the population of women are perverted degenerates. Reading fiction, like indulging in our fantasies, is a safe place to explore and enjoy sensations, dramas, and experiences we still don’t want in real life.

In less touchy examples - I love reading about gladiator arena battles! I love playing apocalyptic games where monsters jump out of the dark and scare the shit out of me! I do not want gladiator rings or to live in an apocalypse in real life! That doesn’t mean my interest in these stories or games condones them in real life. It doesn’t mean I think it was right that Rome irl forced slaves to fight to the death for entertainment.

4. I grew up in an environment without grey areas. The dogmatic Bible-beating hatemongering kind. Someone was good and did everything right according to my beliefs and worldview, or someone was bad and a direct threat to me. If I did something wrong, I had to punish myself physically and emotionally to make up for not being perfect. I was taught to despise myself. My parents believed there was only one correct way to view any situation - their way. I was petrified of punishment and learned that it wasn’t even worth trying to do better or accommodate someone else’s experiences because I would never measure up and would be condemned for doing something that wasn’t perfect. That is immensely, cripplingly harmful to an individual and to society. Cancel culture does the same thing. It excommunicates people who aren’t pure and allows others to get by with abuse because they are ‘teaching’ or an ‘authority on morality’ – and guess what? Nobody is pure. We are all human, we all make mistakes, and we are all learning. None of us have moral authority.

We cannot build a healthy, inclusive society if we are unsafe. We cannot be safe if we are not allowed to first admit that we ALL make mistakes and have prejudices that we can improve on. So we need to be kind and nonjudgmental whenever we have the chance to be. And we have to accept and respect that what’s fun or helpful or healing for us might be the opposite for someone else, or vice versa. Which is okay if we are respectful of each other’s boundaries and don’t try to force a way of being onto someone else without their consent.

5. With regard to writing, this means that people need to be allowed to explore difficult, even painful topics if they wish to. Even for fun. Even if someone else might not want or need to explore those same topics. That doesn’t make either person inherently evil or wrong. It just means we all have different needs and wants and diversity is normal.

As a serious example, as someone who was molested by a teenage neighbor as a child, I can guarantee you that the fact these topics were considered so disgusting and taboo by society made it very difficult for me to cope. It was not my fault, and I’ve healed from it, but when it happened I didn’t even understand what was going on, and the guilt and self-blame that followed me for years afterward were almost crippling. So yes – what happened to me in real life was wrong, inexcusable behavior. But censorship did not protect me. First it made me ignorant and vulnerable to manipulation, and then it made me feel dirty, disgusting, and isolated.

What I needed was a safe avenue to talk about it and the thoughts and sensations it stirred up, in order to heal. I needed to know it was okay to have automatic thoughts – they were a result of fear and trauma or even just being human, not a moral failing on my part. I needed to actually talk about and explore what I had felt openly, and how that related to the rest of my life, before I could move past it and have a healthy view of intimate acts that weren’t soaked in guilt and self-loathing.

I read a book after that happened, set in ancient Rome, where pederasty took place. And the victim was allowed to admit that he’d enjoyed some of what had happened to him while enslaved, and was then assured that even though he didn’t hate everything that he experienced, it didn’t make him to blame, nor his abuser right, and those thoughts/feelings did not define him or his morality. That has been immensely healing to me – but this ‘grey’ exploration of a topic is not compatible with mainstream cancel culture.

Or alternatively, I watched the series 13 Reasons Why. I hated it. It felt like nothing but shock value entertainment and not a respectful management of topics like suicide that were very, VERY real to me. Except for someone else I knew who had also struggled with suicidal thoughts and impulses, 13 Reasons Why was immensely validating. They were glad that a series showed such graphic representation of these events in a way that couldn’t be ignored or brushed over. What had been hurtful to me, was empowering to them.

I believe it is not mine, or anyone else’s place, to decide that a piece of media should be across the board banned because of what it might do. Because while some of us share traumas, we still each have different experiences, needs, and healing processes.

Such strict censorship allows for only victims who meet a certain “standard” to receive care and healing. The rest are left to suffer or are even punished further.

All of us have gone through life with vastly different levels of privilege, opportunity, expectations, etc, which leads to vastly different interpretations of the world, none of which are 100% correct or true.

6. Cancel culture hurts LGBTQ+ rights. I’m neither straight or cis, and I might never have learned that if I hadn’t been able to build friendships outside of my social circle who allowed me to integrate and ask questions without being obligated to agree with them. Where I grew up, there was immense prejudice against gay people. My cousin was disowned and disinherited for coming out. I was sheltered from anyone who might argue for gay rights, and discouraged from looking at or being curious of the deep south’s version of ‘problematic.’ That’s what I was taught – to be uncomfortable toward, judgmental, and condemning. If I had been on tumblr during those years and gotten ‘cancelled’ I would have been even more suspicious and condemning of Others, and even more determined that my way was the only right one. I specifically avoided tumblr social circles because I ‘knew’ they hated ‘people like me.’ It’s not exclusive. This trend where people become even more convinced to pick an opposing side because the Other person is being hateful is one of the first things they teach you in social psychology.

The kind of intolerance that goes with mobbing people for saying anything they consider problematic at all is the same cruelty that makes me unable to tell my parents I identify as agender or pan. It’s what gets women stoned to death and gays beheaded. It’s not moral.

What changed my point of view was friendships. One of my friends came out as gay and my world turned upside down because here was someone that didn’t match any of the stereotypes I’d been taught to fear. He wasn’t hateful or condemning of me, he was one of the most thoughtful and peaceful people I knew. That is what started to change things for me, and made it safe for me to explore other ways of thinking and interpretations of scripture. Because I cared about him more than I needed to be right.

7. Nobody is obligated to interact with someone who is being violent or hateful to them. You’re not even obligated to interact with someone you disagree with, if the topic is too painful or you simply don’t want to talk about it. Keep yourselves safe. But within the world of writing, live and let live. If someone posts a story you don’t like, and they’ve tagged it appropriately, please, please consider that your experience is not universal. You have the choice not to read that story. Someone else might need to read it. Let them, and don’t shame them for it.

#cancel culture #tw rape #tw abuse #tw child molestation #tw depression #tw suicide #tw religion #tw homophobia #tw cancel culture #wyn gabs #not fallout #text #long post

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cordonian-literature · 4 years

Text

Reluctant Reunion

Part Two

Summary: Olivia reflects on her relationship with Vivienne

Premise: majority of TRH thrown out the window, but some elements are present. overall, this isn’t canon. the MC’s name is Vivienne (nicknamed Vivi). her and Liam have two children: Eleanor and Evangeline. the gang hasn’t seen each other much

A/N: doing a @wackydrabbles again! this week’s prompt is don’t be stubborn. try it. and will be in bold

A/N 2: i also used Prompt #638 in this fic, but the wording is changed a bit :)

Word Count: (+/-) 1140

Warnings: angst (i think. feel free to call me out if im wrong)

Catch up here

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those unique to my story*

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Olivia wakes in the palace. Her driver had brought her here the night before, and even though she wanted to ignore Vivi’s invitation, Olivia decided that attending the ball would do her no harm. The work she had to do in Lythikos could wait a few days; she had worked tirelessly these past few years. Maybe she deserved a break.

She walks out of the guest room, allowing the yellow glow from the dawn outside to warm her skin. There’s the gentle conversation of servants getting ready for the evening, the light dust dances in front of her eyes, the drowsiness that comes with the quiet and emptiness of morning. Her first thought to try and wake herself up is to go into the training room and do some drills, but Olivia is too emotionally exhausted for that. Deciding that a walk would be better, she heads towards the nearest exit, which was in the kitchen.

Olivia knew this palace like the back of her hand — though not as well as she knew the interior of Lythikos Keep: there were a few secret passages in the palace that Olivia had never managed to find, but she had some solid guesses as to where they led.

She flows through the small groups of servants who were cooking and cleaning, ignorant of the Duchess who paid no mind to them. When the fresh air grasps Olivia, she takes a fulfilling deep breath, one that didn’t get stuck in her lungs and force her to exhale before she wanted to.

The hedge maze was within sight. She begins walking towards the greenery unconsciously, the soft colors of the garden enchanting her. They were the same flowers that Liam’s mother had commissioned decades ago. Olivia doesn’t want to calculate the time that had passed, because not only did the time encompass what was no longer her’s, but it also represented what had been wasted. What had led to nothing.

Olivia knows that the hedge maze is where Liam and Vivi would sneak off to in the middle of events. She wonders about that, about the intimacy of being so thoroughly understood that one glance can have you lifted away from your worries and temporary stressors.

She takes a seat on a stone bench, the cold attacking her warm skin. The bench is next to a statue of a young woman with flowers in her hair, her eyes downcast. Olivia notices that it resembles the late Queen Eleanor in her young age. She can’t remember if she’s seen it before or not.

There are shouts from the distance. Olivia knows that those people are not nearby, but wonder what they are doing. They can’t be nobles, since most were still asleep or had just woken up. Olivia knows that it can’t be servants, either, since she had seen them diligently working. The volume of the yelling becomes quieter, but there is more chatter in the same direction.

A press event is going to happen, Olivia realizes. She wondered what issues Liam planned to address, and knew that Crown Princess Eleanor would have to make an appearance, too.

Time passes on. The sky has drained itself of the pinkish-red color of the morning and has settled on a vibrant blue. Olivia stands and walks back towards the entrance, turning away from the sound of the crowd forming on the front lawn. But the closer she gets to the palace, the sound of conversation increases. Olivia glances around her, mentally noting which knife from her dress would be the quickest to grab and stab someone with, and realizes that the voices are coming from inside the palace.

She’s under Princess Eleanor’s bedroom window. At least she thinks she is. Olivia believes that the room should be a bit more north towards where she was standing, and she couldn’t tell if she was closer to the east wing or the west wing, but the sounds of the princesses are loud enough for Olivia to know it’s them.

Evangeline’s voice was the loudest; she must be closer to the window. “For once in your life, take my advice. Your appearance matters most when you’re in front of so many people.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Eleanor responds. Her voice is a bit farther off. “What matters is what I say and what I do.”

“Looking nice can’t hurt. You know what Duke Bertrand always says.”

Eleanor gives a loud sigh. “I don’t care what he says. If you want to go play dress-up with him, go ahead. I’ll be here, trying to figure out what I should wear. I need to look calm but in control. Assertive… but also unaggressive and loving.”

There’s a pause for a few moments before Evangeline continues, “I brought you this dress from my closet. It’s similar to what Mama wore after that anti-monarchist group attacked the palace.”

“During the Five Kingdom’s Ceremony? After they were engaged?”

“Yes, I think so. This should make you look assertive, but also like a kind and loving princess who cares for all her people and wishes the best for them.”

There’s silence for a few moments. Though it was not Olivia’s place to say, she believed that Eleanor should take her sister’s advice. There was no harm in looking nice, especially if it was to pacify Cordonians and their fears. These past few years Cordonia had not been very stable. Many blamed it on the monarchy, leading to a rise in revolutionary groups, and thus keeping Olivia occupied and away from her friends.

“Come on, Ellie,” Evangeline's voice rings out again. “Don’t be stubborn. Try it. You’ll look nice for a change.” Evangeline’s voice begins to fade away. “I’ll be right outside your door. Come out and show me how it looks.”

Olivia wonders if Vivienne was going to be at the press conference as well. She continues down the path and back into the palace, the halls more lively now that more people are awake. Olivia makes her way towards the King and Queen’s Chambers, hoping that she would have a moment to talk to Vivienne before the conference.

Princess Evangeline walks past Duchess Olivia, offering a thin smile as a greeting. Olivia wonders if she was done helping her sister, but doesn’t dwell on it and walks on.

She turns a corner and sees Vivienne walking towards her. The Queen’s attire was formal, but not fit for a press conference. Olivia thinks that she should ask about it, but her heart flutters in her chest as Vivi smiles at her. I’m reading this wrong, Olivia thinks to herself. I’m projecting, just like yesterday, and looking foolish. But Olivia can’t help herself. She stops when they are barely a meter away. Olivia reaches for Vivi’s hand slowly, the words she had been hiding about to tumble out of her chest.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

tagging: @queen-arabella-of-cordonia

i only tag those who asked since i dont want to bother others. if you would like to be added/removed, let me know :)

#wacky drabbles #the royal romance #choices the royal romance #choices the royal romance fanfic #trr au fanfic #trr fanfic #the royal romance fanfic #the royal heir fanfic #choices the royal heir fanfic #trr mc x liam #liam x mc #trr olivia x mc #olivia x mc

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dangan-happy · 3 years

Note

[Nico-Nico? Eh, I'm more of a Teru-Teru kind of person myself.]

To Nagito, Kaede and Hajime

TW: Rejection(kinda) and Self Harm

Hi. Um, you guys can call me Calvin. I use they/them pronouns. So I just wrote a very long email to my family. It was about me changing my name to Calvin. Everyone has been supportive so far, except my mom, I guess.

She called me crying, asking me why I was changing my name, asking for an explanation, asking me to say more about why I wanted to and how this was really devastating for her. I was named after my grandma who died before I was born, and my mom is not only devastated because of that but also because I will no longer use the name she gave me. She said that when I was born, she was relieved that I was a “girl”, and how my name was filled with hope and stuff. I really don’t like the implication that she wouldn’t have liked me if I was a “boy.”

She was also upset that I didn’t give her a heads up. She thinks that changing my name changes who I am, but I don’t think that. I also think that she thinks that I’m doing this on a whim, even though I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I’ve been experimenting with people calling me “Calvin” with some friends and my sister. The more I thought about it, the more “Calvin” feels right.

I know that she is trying to be supportive and is allowed to have her feelings about this, but I feel really hurt and just rejected. She was crying for the entire hour that we were on the phone. I started to cry too, because she wasn’t understanding how the name “Calvin” makes me feel. It makes me feel really happy and it feels like myself. My old name doesn’t feel like me anymore, if that makes sense. Plus, people never said/spelled it right, which I always disliked.

I hate that she’s hurting over this but I’m also really upset that she had such a hard time understanding my reasoning. My old name isn’t going away completely. I decided to keep it as a middle name, in memory of my grandma. I’m just really really hurt by this. Like, it’s not up to her to say what my name is or who I tell. I’m both hurt and frustrated over this; I feel like she just doesn’t understand.

I was watching a musical that I loved cause I was in the mood for it, but I couldn’t finish it because I was so upset. I felt kinda numb, to be honest. It also doesn’t help that I’m in a depressive episode right now(I think). Ever since we had to do it down my cat, I’ve been feeling off and a bit more down, even with my meds.

I decided to get ready for bed, but when I was in the bathroom, I relapsed. I haven’t self harmed in years, and usually I cope pretty well. I’m so upset that it happened. I was both really hurt yet feeling kinda numb at the same time, if that makes sense? (Emotionally, mentally and physically-just a little bit though for the physically part.)

I’m going to have to tell my therapist later and I’m not really looking forward to it. Some part of me is really hoping that I’m going to scar, which I hate. I am so fucking mentally ill. Ugh. (I doubt it will, wasn’t too bad). I just- I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had to deal with a kinda rejection/bad reaction before. This wasn’t an issue that happened when I came out as non binary.

I’m just so tired-in like every way. I’m going to go to bed after I send this though. Maybe sleep will help. I don’t know. Could I get some hugs, comfort and advice please?

Wh-Whoa, you really got a lot on your plate there, Calvin. I'm not mad or anything though! It's just a lot to process, so I'm just gonna try to break it down to the best of my ability. Let's hope I don't mess anything up here, ha.

Okay, let me try to basically start from the top of your ask, and go down from there. Basically, show that I've read everything and how I've processed it all.

First off, congratulations on coming out to your family about changing your name! That takes so much courage and confidence, and the fact that you did it period is impressive, but getting support from other family is a positive bonus as well. I'm very proud of you for doing that.

As for you mom though... yeah, she sounds like something else. I can understand being named after a relative or someone of such importance, and like you said, she technically is allowed to have her own thoughts and feelings. But you've explained it well enough, and even so, you're completely valid in wanting to change your name anyway. It feels more right and makes you happy, and like, no one can force you to not go by 'Calvin'. or any name of your choosing. Besides, it's better than having a keyboard smash as your name. But like you've also said, which is completely right and valid, by the way: Your new name doesn't change who you are as a person, you've been thinking on this one for awhile and didn't just decide on this on an impulse, you're keeping your old name as your middle name in honor of your grandma, and hey, people didn't spell or pronounce your old name right in the first place! Someone who I'm close to can relate to that last bit...

I'm truly sorry to hear that your mom doesn't understand and isn't that open-minded about it, Calvin. You have every right to feel hurt by her close-mindedness, and it hurts me that it's negatively affected you to the point where you sadly resorted to self-harm. I understand your feelings that led up to that though, and thankfully, we can work on doing our best to not have another relapse happen. I do hope your cuts don't scar and instead go away as smoothly as possible. And yeah, I can get the anxiety of having to tell your therapist, but it's for the better that you do. Holding in and bottling that emotional weight is a worse feeling than pushing through and telling a professional, y'know?

O-Okay, I think I basically covered everything above. Now, some advice... let's start off with some quick advice on your self-harm cuts. Now, this might sound dumb, but I figured I'd say something anyway. Do your best to take good care of the cuts, keep some sort of bandaging on them unless you're taking showers (to which, either take it off and replace it with fresh bandaging after showering, or use water proof bandaging if you can or want to), and use Neosporin or another product similar to it on your cuts. If you're already doing some of this, then that's great! Keep it up! But yeah, sorry, Mikan's better at this kind of thing than I am.

And now, advice for not relapsing again. In terms of getting thoughts and feelings out, I'd personally recommend confiding in someone you're close to and deeply trust, or if you're not ready to do that, then I'd personally recommend journaling in a notebook. After all, it's important to get it out properly and in a more healthy manner. As for the urges or just needing something to occupy your mind from even thinking about it, I'd be happy to recommend a few coping mechanisms. A few that you could always try is to ping a elastic band or hair band on your wrist (but not too hard!), draw red lines or just any color lines on your skin with a pen or marker, or clench an ice cube in your hand. There's many other methods you could try out as well though, but of course, what matters is what works best for you.

I-I'm sorry for all of this rambling here, but hey, just know that I'll always be here for you, okay? While I'm glad that you still have support from other family and friends, like I said, I can understand still being pretty hurt by your mom not being so accepting. She's your mom, and your parents are your closest and biggest influences out there. But at the same time, not only am I happy that you're your true self, but I'm also proud of you for having to deal with this rough patch and even coming out with your new name in the first place. I have hope that you'll get through this rough patch of yours though, not only because it's temporary, but also because I can tell that you're a strong, courageous person. Th-That sounds cheesy and cliche, I know, b-but I really do mean it! I have hope in you, Calvin, and I know you can do it. And of course, if you ever need anything else, then me and the others will always be here to help you out the best that we can. That's the truth of this case!

O-Oh, you want some hugs? Well, if you still want some, th-then yeah, I'd be willing to give you some. I'm not some Ultimate Hugger or a-anything though, so sorry if I suck at giving hugs...

Just... do your best to take care of yourself, Calvin, and have hope in yourself, just like how I do.

Hello Calvin, it’s very nice to meet you, not so very nice to know that your mother has been unwilling to accept that you want to change your name. As far as I’m concerned, the name Calvin suits you. It’s always unfortunate when a relative isn’t so willing to accept what it is.

It’s also quite disgusting to hear that she wouldn’t have liked you if you were a “boy”. How awful to say that to your child, I can’t believe this what you’re going through. While in her head she was upset for the right reasons, she needs to take into consideration that you don’t wish to tell these kinds of details immediately. It’s not easy to come out to others about it either, because sometimes they react exactly the way she is right now. Unaccepting and well, rude. While I understand that you don’t like she’s hurting, she is the one that needs to understand that this isn’t easy for you! You can’t just be expected to figure yourself out and let everyone you’re close to know. I would be very cautious around your mom, mostly for her sake. She needs to let this sink in and understand that you aren’t changing your mind about this. Of course, a hug is always welcomed. I’m honored that you think I’m worthy of a few. Keep your head up, don’t change anything about yourself for someone else.

Hey Anon! I know that Nagito and Hajime pretty much took care of everything here, so I’m sorry if I have nothing more to say! They pretty much finished this off, strange, I always knew that they worked well together, even if they wouldn’t admit it.

Besides that, I have to say that Nagito is right about not changing for anyone, she’s your mom but that doesn’t mean you have to change anything. You’re your own person, be kind to yourself. You deserve nothing but happiness, I mean that. You’re doing the best that you can, all while trying to keep your moms feelings in mind. You can have a hug from me too, sending you positivity!!

#danganronpa #danganronpa ask blog #ask #hajime hinata #nagito komaeda #kaede akamatsu #mod hajime #mod karma

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staarshines · 4 years

Text

okay, i gotta explain what the hell happened last night. i don’t have time to clean up errors, so excuse those.

tw// self-harm/cutting via knife/blade, abusive parents (mentally, emotionally, and almost physically), gaslighting, guilt-tripping, talk of suicidal thoughts, depression, anxiety, this could literally qualify as a traumatic event.

my parents and i got into a fight, typical sunday night. i was the bigger person and left and then my mom started crying and my dad guilt-tripped me while i was sitting in the bathroom: bad choice because you guys know what happened in there. and then my dumbass decided to put a wet paper towel over the cut before going to go pray—just putting nothing or a band-aid over it would’ve made it undetectable. my mom guilt-tripped me into feeling bad for her and i gave her a hug; one thing she does while a hug is just rub random parts of your body to soothe you, you know? guess which part her hand went over. shit hit the fan. they did not react the way you think they would’ve—and a lot of you guys know how my parents usually act. it was a shit ton worse than you could expect—even from them. my dad went fucking nuts. and i’m not overstating. he threw his phone into the wall, threw my phone into the wall, stomped around the room, and then kicked the box of an expo board (that he’d ordered for my room) multiple times. he yelled about how i had hurt him and my mom, about how i was so ungrateful because i thought my life was hell (which i never said), and swore on his life that he would move us to pakistan (which is halfway across the world) and cut off any and every contact i have from everyone where i currently live. i was silent the entire time, and he just got angrier. then came my mom’s gaslighting. “i can’t believe you would do this”, “we didn’t expect this from you”, “are you hearing yourself?”, “what does this say about you?”, i could go on and on. this went on for two goddamn hours. 10:32-12:57, and yes, i was checking the time. i completely explained myself to them—because it couldn’t have made things worse—and that calmed them down a little bit. but the gaslighting and guilt-tripping went on as i explained myself to them. about how i thought i had anxiety, depression, was experiencing suicidal thoughts, was scared for my future, etc. they immediately invalidated all of those concerns.

and the worst thing is: they blamed my irl friends (they don’t even know about you guys, don’t worry) for me cutting myself. i genuinely don’t know what the fuck is going to happen at this point, but i had to give you guys an update. all i know right now, is: 1a) they’ve cut me off from any and every form of communication with my friends—or so they think, because they don’t know about my spam instagram account or my tumblr. they’ve taken away my phone, are monitoring my texts, and are going to delete my instagram and tiktok. 1b) they want me to completely cut off my friend group. the only friend group i have because, and i quote, “yes, it’s a rule in this house. no social interaction outside of school.” there’s not much i can do about this except make it look like that i’ve cut them off based on my messages and main instagram, but i’ll still be able to text them via my spam every once in a while. it’s unlikely that they’ll want to stay friends with me though, because only being able to talk to someone via their spam which they barely log into takes more effort than it should. 2) they’re saying they’re moving to somewhere else—and at the very least, they’re moving schools. i’m not worried about this too much, even the fact that they might actually move me to pakistan because the minute they do that i’m running away when i hit 18, no questions asked. i’ll still be able to have contact with you guys from anywhere as long as i have my laptop, though. 3) now they’ve done a complete 180º after my entire life: they’re saying they won’t give a shit if i’m a world-class neurosurgeon or if i work at mcdonald’s. they’re obviously lying, but this is a slap to the face for me because i’ve been yelled at for approximately three hours—nope, not overstating—for getting a b+ in a honors class i took as a freshman which you’re supposed to take as a junior. i was taking three other honors classes, one ap class, and was in 8 clubs/organizations that year (this was last year). they “admitted” that they were “pressuring” me into becoming a doctor; what they really said was they “saw potential” in me so they decided to “push” me. 4) they’ve moved my mattress to their room and are checking me about every 15-20 minutes. i literally have to sleep and do my homework in their room now. i woke up around 4am-ish and couldn’t go back to sleep until 6 which is how i figured out that pattern. 4a) they are constantly asking me what i’m doing. and it’s not even “what are you doing?”, it’s “who are you texting now?” when i start to type even a single word. (i have a macbook, so i can text my friends via my laptop.) i will literally be sitting in class, listening to the teacher lecture: “who are you on facetime with? you’re staring at the screen.” it is impossible for me to get work done. my mom has quieted down now but she’s been watching me, yes, watching me, for a good almost 1.5 hours. she doesn’t even have her phone. she’s just sitting on her couch, staring at me.

and yep, she’s been staring at me for the past 1 hour and 34 minutes as i wrote this (yes, it took that long because my parents constantly kept asking me shit and i had to close out of the tab a couple of times without saving the draft). shit is going to change on tumblr now: 1) writing has to come to a stop or at least slow down for now. i write to destress and i need that more than ever, but i’ve moved to completely writing my stories out in my notebooks and that takes time to transcribe. i know some of you guys have been waiting a while for me to get your request done and i’m on the verge of finishing those, but i just can’t do it right now. 2) activity is about to go down. i may be truly inactive for days or even weeks at a time, again, it all depends on how my parents decide to fuck up my life from here. i really wish i could be here talking to you guys every day, but that just can’t happen anymore.

if i have any other updates, i’ll let you guys know asap. i love all of you guys and i hope everyone stays safe. i’ll try my best to get things back to normal, but i can’t promise anything.

#nat logs off

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ryttu3k · 3 years

Text

Doing those ship meme questions only it's the new OT3 (Beckett/Sascha/Ilias) because they're my main source of serotonin these days. Occasional appearances from Anatole and Lucita, too.

Not doing all, but there are A Lot.

1. Who's the one who's reckless and always getting into trouble while the other gotta pull em out

Beckett and Sascha actually do have a lot of braincells between them but none of them are in use for 'can sense danger'. Ilias has gained some minor common sense since his 'hey, I'm going to ask our Antediluvian for power to help face its favourite childe oh whoops I am possessed' thing and is usually the one sighing fondly and saving their asses.

2. Who's the one to send the other "I love my gf/bf" memes

Ilias. 100% Ilias. He would go out in public in a shirt saying 'I <3 Sascha' and calling them ‘my flower’ while Sascha is just pleased they can't blush any more.

3. Who's the one who listens to a music genre the other doesn't like and how does the other react

God their music tastes are all over the place. Sascha is over a thousand years old and has seen and heard A Lot. They consider the Romantic period 'modern music'. Beckett is similar albeit with about 350 years of it. Ilias got hurled from 1233 to 2004 and after a period of ??? went, "Oh, Romanian music!" and it was. Dragostea Din Tei. Like can you imagine one moment it’s 1233 and the next moment you are listening to Dragostea Din Tei. Also thanks to the language drift they only caught about a quarter of the words so it was this whole thing where he almost, almost was understanding it but the rest was just, “...what.” And that’s how Ilias discovered modern music.

Anyway yeah they’ve pretty much decided that their collective music tastes are so disparate no one is allowed to comment on them.

4. Which one spoils the other more and do they ever get competitive to show the other more love

Honestly, they all kind of spoil each other, albeit in different ways. Like Ilias will just randomly pop a handmade flower crown on Sascha’s head. Beckett will occasionally find an extremely rare book on his desk and know Sascha found it for him. Beckett always tells Sascha first when he’s found something cool so they can be the first to investigate it. And they absolutely get competitive, yeah.

5. How many years did it take to get married or was it just not for them

Sascha and Ilias have a mutual blood bond, which is more or less the equivalent of thus. Beckett has a mutual bond with Anatole, but he and Sascha have a level-2 bond.

7. Are their friends/family supportive

Honestly, uh, Sascha and Ilias don’t really have anyone else. Beckett’s companions tend to range from, “They’re terrifying but I trust your judgment :D” (Anatole) to “hahahahahaha if Vykos harms one hair on Beckett’s head I’ll end them” (Lucita) to “WHY” (Aristotle, Okulos, most others tbh).

8. How does one comfort the other when the other is in distress/having a panic attack/crying

Sascha is the one most prone to panic attacks because trauma is a bitch and basically just... Beckett and Ilias both respond by with hugging/gentle restraint (if they’re okay with touch) or by giving them space and doing things like running a hot bath when they’re touch-averse.

9. Which one dissociates

Honestly Sascha spent most of 1234 to 2006 lowkey dissociating, which is fair when there’s literally another essence fused to yours. Post-Dracon, they still get the occasional dissociative episode, but it’s much easier to bring them back to themself.

10. Which one stares at the other's booty like “damn” and how does the other react when catching them

All three tbh. Beckett stares at Sascha, Sascha either gets a bit self-conscious or a bit ;) , depending on mood. Sascha stares at both Beckett and Ilias and gets a bit embarrassed when caught (Beckett will laugh it off, Ilias will basically be ;D). Ilias stares at both and is completely shameless about it because he may no longer be on the Path of Pleasure but he’s absolutely not going to feel ashamed for admiring his gorgeous lovers.

11. When they live together what kinda place do they live in? What does their home look like?

Beckett and Sascha travel too much for one place, honestly, and Ilias accompanies them a lot. They do have a few houses scattered throughout the world, though, including one in the Carpathians (nowhere near Brasov, tyvm). Not really as big as the monastery, it’s mostly like... big library, a few comfortable places to sleep or rest, Ilias likes having a garden these days and grows a lot of flowers.

12. What do their dates look like

Museum heists.

13. How does each act when getting drunk

Ilias gets even more handsy. Actually he can get to be a bit of a pain, but he does listen immediately if one of them tells him to tone it down. Beckett gets very enthusiastic and fired-up and a bit more feral and he’s gonna go find Enoch right now and prove Caine wasn’t real once and for all. Sascha, uh, tends to get a bit emotional and also very talkative, but can literally like. Talk their way into minor breakdowns. Basically less barriers.

14. Which one rolls over in the morning evening to wake up the other one just to kiss them

All three :3

15. Have they saved each other's lives before

Yup!

Ficverse-wise, Sascha did also save Ilias from becoming a bogatyr to the Eldest, although that was also Sascha and Beckett both saving themselves by being emotionally honest. Yeah XD

16. Does one have an interest the other think is weird but wants to listen to it regardless

Ilias’ spirituality conflicts a bit with Beckett’s... atheism, I guess? Like he’s definitely not sure he believes in the spirits that Ilias regularly works with as a Koldun, but he’s willing to keep a relatively open mind. (He’s a bit less open-minded in Sascha’s belief in - and support of - Caine, given that he’s literally based his career around the metaphor theory!)

17. Which one uses cropped hentai as reaction images

Sascha.

They have troll tendencies, okay.

18. Does one of them kinkshame the other

There is absolutely no kinkshaming here. Listen Ilias was a Priest of Jarilo. Sascha was once on the Path of Pleasure too. Beckett seduced Dracula for information then forgot to ask his question. They’re all very open about everything.

There may be teasing about the odd hobby or interest but it’s pretty lighthearted.

19. Is one of them self conscious about their body? If so how does the other comfort them

Beckett occasionally has Moments over his hands and worries about hurting Sascha or something. They basically respond by being like “are you kidding the claws are hot as hell”. On occasion, Beckett will get one of them to Vicissitude them down if he wants to use his hands more, although they’ll regrow and be achey for a night or two afterwards.

20. Say they were cuddling on the bed while listening to record player playing the background. Which song is playing?

Honestly I want to say Third Eye by Florence + the Machine just for fic reasons. When I was writing Mantle I saw it very much as Beckett towards Sascha, but it fits with Ilias towards them as well.

I have no idea how they would have discovered F+tM but anyway.

23. What kinda joyrides do they go on? Relaxing ones or wild ones?

It. I imagine it usually involves police chases. When it doesn’t Beckett will occasionally go wolf so he can stick his head out the car window like :P

Shh don’t tell anyone.

25. Do people ever get annoyed of their pda

God probably. One of the main exceptions is Anatole, who’ll basically go, “Oh! Are we cuddling?” and flop on top of Beckett.

27. Which one’s the red, which one’s the blue

They’re all red. Fear. Ilias is probably closest to blue.

28. Are either of them mentally ill, if so how do they help one another cope

Sascha has both PTSD (from Symeon and Michael, and from the Eldest) and C-PTSD (from being bound to the Dracon for literal centuries). Also depression and anxiety, which are... pretty common with those. See question 8 for some of the coping methods, the rest is just... taking each day as it comes. Like they’ve lived a very long time, but they only got free of the Dracon in 2006, so it’s still a very new thing.

Ilias has some trauma from some of the things he’s had to do to survive since waking up with the Thirst of Ages, and gets into guilt spirals on occasion. He mostly focuses on Path of Nocturnal Redemption methods to work through it; he’s kind of adverse to anyone seeing him vulnerable like that. He knows Sascha has done some awful shit, but they weren’t themself at the time so Ilias feels it doesn’t count, and Beckett is like, Humanity 6? He just doesn’t get it, so Ilias keeps it to himself.

Beckett has an odd, acquired one - his experiences in Jerusalem left him with the ability (if it could be called an ability!) to occasionally hear the Cobweb (the Malkavian Madness Network). While his connection isn’t nearly as strong as an actual Malkavian’s, he does get odd flashes of Insight; less helpfully, it can occasionally get, uh, loud in his head. This tends to ramp up a bit with proximity to Malkavians, so when he’s around Anatole, Anatole will help him filter the voices and thoughts out by teaching him meditation techniques. (Given that Anatole - correctly - feels responsible for Beckett being afflicted thus, he wants to make sure it doesn’t hit his lover too badly.)

29. Does one have a spot on them where they would melt when the other kisses them there

Give Beckett head scritchies and he’ll turn into a puddle :3

34. Are they a reckless couple or safe

*loud, prolonged laughter*

37. Do they get into fights often? If so what do they fight over and how do they make up?

Sascha and Ilias are usually... very chill; if they argue, it’s over the other’s safety, like Ilias wanting to do something reckless and Sascha being very much ‘please do not’. Sascha and Beckett argue a bit more, although thankfully they have now stopped trying to literally kill each other XD When they do, it’s usually ideological, related to Gehenna, Caine, et cetera. Sascha is still very much a part of the Sabbat, and Beckett is, well, basically an atheist.

40. Who would fight in honor for the other if someone would insult them

All three tbh. Here’s a fun bit from the novel:

Still really dig this bit from BJD, too!

No misgendering on Beckett’s watch!

42. How would one react if the other was to die

Uh.

Poorly.

Like most of Sascha’s sanity slippage was due to the Dracon’s essence being fused to their own and just how the Eldest... did that, but a good part of it was absolutely due to Ilias’ death.

43. Who dies first

...canonically, Ilias XD;;

It’s okay he gets better.

#vampire the masquerade #feral nerd #mx meat crimes #tzinnamon roll #caymanshipping #heartflowershipping #ivoryringshipping

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radiantresplendence · 4 years

Text

Doctor Takuto Maruki Was Right

Maruki is the Councillor Arcana in Persona 5 Royal and is a fantastic character that the original game was sorely lacking. I’ll be talking some spoilers here. Be warned.

We can talk about how Demiurge/Yaldabaoth/Yagor/Jägermeister (or whatever you want to call him) is straight trash and shouldn’t be the overarching antagonist of Persona 5 another time, but that’s not what’s important here.

What’s important here is that Maruki wasn’t in the original game and that does a disservice to everyone who played it.

For the vast majority of P5R, Maruki is just the high school counselor who was brought in to the school in the aftermath of the Kamoshida incident as a means of damage control. He’s kind, emphatic and insightful and genuinely wants to help anyone seeking his services.

The Phantom Thieves, due to their involvement in the Kamoshida incident are mandated by the school to talk to him; as the game progresses, most of the team members form some sort of connection to him, save for Akechi and Futaba (I believe) as Akechi is only a Phantom Thief when his goals align with the team and Futaba isn’t a student.

Even Yoshizawa and Yusuke interact with Maruki, as Yusuke goes out of his way to do so after hearing about him from the other thieves and he was Yoshizawa’s counselor after the death of her sister.

Over the course of his confidant, Joker gives Maruki his perspective on some of Maruki’s research, which is later revealed to be Cognitive Psience. At the end of his confidant arc, Maruki reveals that he’s known that Joker’s group were the Phantom Thieves since he saw them exit the Cognitive world during the first heist. He says he supports the thieves and their justice but he has to go a separate way. He then exits the story until after the defeat of the God of Control.

If you finish Maruki’s Confidant Arc by the time that he leaves the school, Maruki completes a belated Cognitive Psience paper that he was working on with funding from a college in Toyko and winds up applying his theory when Mementos merges with the real world.

In short, Maruki fully awakens to his persona with the special ability to rewrite cognition. When the cognitive world and the real world are merged, however this power becomes absurdly potent, and Maruki begins to warp reality in order to make a world where no one suffers.

Maruki’s machinations affect all of the Phantom Thieves positively: Joker doesn’t go to prison because... Akechi is alive and confesses to his crimes in Joker’s stead. Akechi is let off the hook for his crimes. Morgana is a human. Ryuji was never injured and is still the star of the track team. Ann’s friend Shiho never attempted suicide. Yusuke was never exploited by Madarame, who instead acts as a passable father figure to him. Makoto and Sae’s dad was never assassinated. Futaba’s mother is alive and is presumably in some sort of relationship with Sojiro. Finally, Haru’s father wasn’t executed after his bossfight and he was never an exploitative egoist.

There’s a lone exception to this: the girl who the game refused to let join the Phantom Thieves; a girl who had been receiving therapy from Dr. Maruki since before the start of the game due to her trauma from the death of her sister, Sumire Yoshizawa.

In a way, “Kasumi” was Maruki’s prototype for the world he wanted to create. She couldn’t process the guilt she felt for surviving the crash that killed her allegedly more talented sister and consequently wished that she was her late sibling.

Now the world that Maruki creates is essentially a utopia, where no one suffers and crippling psychological harm is unable to befall anyone. Now we can consider the value of free will that Maruki is removing by becoming a new “God of Control”, but as a card carrying deterministic nihilist, I see it as more or less as trading the whims of an uncaring chaotic universe for those of a benevolent eccentric. The game frames this as a stagnation of humanity, something I don’t entirely agree with. Maruki understands that physical wounds (aka hardship) are inescapable (and can provide adversity to fuel growth) and his big theory revolves around altering cognition to inoculate against mental illness. Any issue with Maruki’s world revolves more around his personal flaws and lack of moderation than it does with his theoretical framework. Regardless, Maruki’s world is more ethical than what it replaces.

In the third semester, if we ignore some of the alterations like reviving the dead as they’re more of a condition of the world than an effect of it, many people who would otherwise be sick or destitute are not, and the natural conclusion of Maruki gaining full control (as evidenced in the bad ending where you side with the doctor) is a world where no one is. Essentially, the Phantom Thieves in the third semester who fight against Maruki are condemning these people to poverty, despair and a miserable death. Ethically, for the sake of their own morality, the Phantom Thieves are the bad guys.

Maruki’s motivations need to be examined closer. He is someone who has been largely unable to move past his own trauma (as evidenced by the entire third semester and foreshadowed in the scene where he runs into a college friend) so he has come to the conclusion that he should dedicate himself to moving others past theirs. I mean, mind-wiping your fiance of most of her life with you to cure her of her PTSD and having your life’s work stolen by Shido as you try to pick up the pieces would probably leave a guy feeling pretty empty. Essentially Maruki has resigned himself to his own sorrow after repeatedly being dealt a bad hand, so to speak.

I think we can safely say that at the very least, Maruki has been emotionally displaced (if not worse) since the incident with Rumi and having his life's work defunded has led him to a place where his only real desire is the pursuit of a singular goal: obliterating sadness. Not his mind you, but everyone else's.

Basically, Maruki is not well, emotionally or mentally, despite him being able to function as a productive member of society. Completing his contract with a cosmic entity and taking the throne of the god of control, enables him to pursue his goal far beyond what he was capable as a mere doctor with a special power. He infests the human subconscious to further his goal and relentlessly tightens his grip on the world. Despite having augmented physiology in the fused metaverse as a persona user, I feel that he's a mentally ill man who's burning the candle at both ends, so to speak. I think, if anything, fully awakening to Azathoth’s power exacerbated his preexisting mental state.

To evidence my claim of Maruki’s declining illness, allow me to cite: putting a friend and confidant into a vegetative state because he couldn’t solve a moral dilemma in a month’s time, tentacling a teenage girl and brainwashing her because her dissent is a rejection of your life’s work, picking a fistfight with a high schooler while screaming about stuff unrelated to him, choosing to martyr yourself in resignation to your own suffering when you have the power to avert it.

Imagine a world where Maruki became the new ruler of the Cognitive World, but acted in a more limited capacity that is more in line with his original research, than the extreme conclusion of it. Consider him acting more like the collective subconscious's guardian angel than the god of control, possibly with the blessing of the Phantom Thieves. I think that’s more what a sane Maruki would settle on, feeling responsible to use the powers he was granted by his contract with an outer god.

With that out of the way, let’s discuss the way that Maruki implements his agenda.

While working at Shujin, Maruki isn't anything particularly special as a counselor, as it's neither something that he's particularly skilled at, nor is it something that he's passionate for. It's more or less a case of his job being something that he is qualified to do.

We know that his real passion was cognitive psience research. In essence, he's a scientist over a health professional, even though the funding for his area of expertise was slashed to bits forcing him to take an alternate career path. Especially early on, the way he’d approach his job would certainly be influenced by his passion. To that end, I think you need to analyze his session with Yoshizawa from a research perspective. He rewrote her cognition to be that of her sister’s because he thought it would help her move on. His actions here were absolutely unethical, as he was experimenting on a minor without guardian consent or full disclosure of information, but initial results of his cognition rewrite were positive (especially in the short-term, despite Yoshizawa struggling more in the long term than she otherwise may have).

"Kasumi" in a lot of ways is a proof of concept for the world he creates in the third semester, even if she isn't necessarily an optimally-functioning prototype. Now, I think Maruki was definitely acting as a bad counselor, and a "mad psientist", if you'll allow my pun, in the flashback. In the third semester however, there's no validity in examining him as a counselor, as he's not actively doing counseling. You can't even really examine him under the lens of ethical science, as he's essentially beyond morality. The man has the power to massively warp reality, raise the dead and alter memories. Essentially, his powers are such that only the end result of any action he takes really matters. If Maruki were to harm or kill someone, regardless of intent, he could make it never happen. So, only the ends of his actions can really be taken into account.

The ends of his actions are, of course, to obliterate human misery, and he proved effective at this. The exceptions being Sumire Yoshizawa (albeit before the full implementation of his agenda) and himself (his palace is the Laboratory of Sorrow after all.) I guess what I'm getting at here is that, Maruki has to be judged as a god for all of his actions in the third semester, as that’s really the only lens applicable to his role there.

With that in mind, the questionable actions that he takes in the third semester are basically just holding Akechi’s life hostage and forcing Yoshizawa to be Kasumi. He avoids physical altercation with the Phantom Thieves until they literally approach him with a mutual agreement of force. The Akechi situation is one that Maruki claims to be unintentional, and I do believe him. I think the awkwardness of that reveal is more due to Maruki’s social ineptitude and difficulty revealing that sensitive piece of information than it is anything nefarious. As for the Kasumi situation, Maruki has every ability to revive the real Kasumi and adjust Sumire’s life to become one more satisfying to her. In the end I think that that unfortunate situation has more to do with an ill man with unlimited power unable to distance Yoshizawa’s rejection of his initial gift as a personal sleight to everything he’s spent his life working towards. With his work being pretty much the only thing he’s currently attributed meaning to in his life his swift rejection of dissent makes a little more sense.

This leads to something I consider mandatory, Yoshizawa needs to rebel against the fate Maruki assigned to her, or every member of the Phantom Thieves would be working against their and all of humanity’s best interests.

I think no one would disagree with me when I say that his role in the third semester is that of a god antithetical to the themes of Persona 5, and thus narratively has to be deposed for a satisfying conclusion. Looking objectively at his grand plan however, even with his hiccups, I can’t really say he’s wrong, even if his implementation isn’t as clean as I (or even himself in a better frame of mind) would like.

#persona 5 #persona 5 royal #takuto maruki #review #not really a review but this is how I tag stuff like this to keep it organized #media analysis #kasumi yoshizawa #sumire yoshizawa #azathoth

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pastpatientlywaitingforimagines · 4 years

Text

If The World Was Ending | Diego Hargreeves x Reader Nonplatonic Songfic

WC: 2205

Warnings: Alcohol, apocalypse, romance

A/N: I was late to the Umbrella Academy train in the first place, and then I sat on this fic for months but I finally finished it! Based on the songs “We’re Not Friends” - Ingrid Andress and “If The World Was Ending” - JP Saxe ft. Julia Michaels

“I should go home,” you said aloud after a minute of trying to get your eyes to focus on your watch.

“You should go home with Diego,” Klaus said from his spot across the table from you, staring at the ceiling, “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you sleeping in his bed.”

You felt a blush creep up to your cheeks that was not caused by the wine glass in your hand as you inadvertently glanced over towards where Diego was sitting at the bar talking to someone he knew from the police academy.

“Shut up, Klaus. We’re just friends. It’s like 2 o’clock in the morning, I should go home,” you repeated, standing up and slowly bringing your glass over to the bar.

“Di?” you leaned heavily into the countertop next to the leather-clad man.

“Are you ready to go home?” he turned to you with a crooked smile.

“Will you drive me?” you asked as sweetly as you could.

“He can’t drive, he’s drunk,” Klaus called across the room. Diego rolled his eyes. In your slightly drunken haze, you didn’t notice the knife pierce the floor a few inches from Klaus’ foot, causing him to yelp as Diego answered your question.

“I haven’t had anything to drink in three hours. Of course I can drive you home. I should be heading back to my place anyways.” You thanked Diego every other step as he walked you out to his car, a hand on the small of your back. He helped you into the passenger seat, closing the door after you before going to his own side.

It was silent for a while as he drove across town towards your apartment. Despite the silence, Diego reached over to you and intertwined his fingers with yours as he drove.

He gave your hand a squeeze as your eyelids started to get heavy, effectively pulling you back to consciousness.

“We’re almost there, don’t fall asleep yet,” he said.

“Love you, Di,” you murmured, slouching into the seat and trying to keep yourself awake.

“Love you too, (y/n),” he said softly as he parked the car on the street outside of your building. Releasing your hand, he got out of the car and came around to you. You had opened the door on your own, and were unsuccessfully trying to balance enough to stand. Giving you his hand, Diego helped you up and walked with you to your door. You were able to locate your key and unlock your door. Diego followed you in, going immediately to your bedroom and then working his way around to the different rooms of your small apartment until he joined you back in the kitchen.

“Is it safe?” you asked him gently.

“Nobody here but us,” he said with certainty. You pressed a warm hand to his cheek, then rolled up on your toes to press a kiss to his lips.

“Thanks,” you said with a smile.

“Of course,” his voice was low, melting in with the darkness of your apartment. His face softened as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then turned away from you and started rummaging through your kitchen cabinets. You made your way to your bedroom, changing into sweatpants and one of Diego’s shirts and brushing your teeth. When you were finished, you found Diego lounging comfortably on your bed.

“I brought you water,” he gestured towards the glass sitting on your nightstand.

“Your clothes are in the top drawer,” you countered, “I took the liberty of putting them away after you left them on my floor last time.”

Diego laughed as he stood, crossing the room to your dresser and pulling out the clothes you were talking about. As he changed you buried yourself under the blankets on your bed, settling in the spot he had just warmed with his body.

“Move over,” he teased as he returned to bed after turning out the light. He joined you under the blankets, back in the spot he originally occupied.

“Aren’t you tired of this?” you asked into the darkness. Your whole body wanted to fall asleep, but the question had been pressing on your mind since talking to Klaus earlier.

“Of sleeping with you in my arms? I don’t think that’s possible, (y/n).”

“I mean of not telling anyone that we do this. I don’t think anyone would be surprised. Klaus mentions it at least twice every time we hang out, and Vanya keeps giving me a ‘look’ whenever you come up in conversation.”

Diego was silent for a moment.

“You know what I do is dangerous. I don’t want to risk you getting hurt, emotionally or physically. We can’t be anything more than friends.”

“We’re not friends, Di. We keep trying to pretend we are, but the fact of the matter is that we aren’t. We can’t keep doing this forever,” you were honest with him even though it hurt. Again, Diego was quiet before answering.

“Go to sleep, (y/n). We can talk about it in the morning, ok?”

“I want to talk about it now,” Diego chuckled at how stubborn you were.

“You’re right, we can’t keep doing this forever,” he sighed.

“But…?”

“We still can’t be anything more than friends.”

“Di, we can’t go back to being just friends after this. Being just friends isn’t an option either, you know that,” you felt Diego shift, pulling you tighter into his arms and resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I know,” his voice was soft.

“So is this it then?”

“What will we tell my family?”

“I haven’t thought that far. Can we sleep on it? I can’t stay awake any longer,” you mumbled. Diego pressed a kiss into your hair.

“Of course.”

Diego woke up before you did, and reveled in the calmness that surrounded you. He thought about the conversation that had happened hours prior. You were right, the two of you couldn’t keep pretending this secret bliss wasn’t happening. He was so worried for your safety though. As much as he would love to be your boyfriend and give you everything you deserved, he was terrified it would lead to you getting hurt. While he knew cutting things off now would hurt both of you, it would be nothing compared to what could happen if he kept you around.

He watched as your eyes fluttered open, a sweet grin blessing your face before quickly falling.

“Would you like some coffee?” he asked quietly. You nodded, but tightened the arm draped across his abdomen. After another few minutes of quietly holding each other, you made your way to the kitchen. Sitting across the table and holding large mugs of hot liquid in your hands, you finally had the conversation you were dreading.

“So your family;”

“We’ll tell them you confessed your ‘feelings’ to me and I didn’t feel the same. No reason to have them hate you. You can still hang out with Klaus and Vanya, just tell them you don’t want to see me. They’ll understand. It’s not like I talk to either of them much anyways,” he said.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too.”

“We just weren’t meant to be, huh?”

“I guess not.”

You and Diego finished your coffee in silence. He gave you one last hug before he took all of his things and left.

Thus began your separation from the person you trusted most in the world. There were so many times you found yourself going to call him. You still spent a lot of time with Klaus and Vanya, both of whom were careful not to bring their brother up in conversation. With a blink a year passed, and you found yourself in Vanya’s apartment.

“I should go home, right?” She looked to you for validation.

“Your dad just died, V. I’m gonna support whatever you think is right,” you said gently.

“I should go home. They’re not going to be happy to see me, especially Diego…” she trailed off, “but I should be there.”

“You know you’re always welcome at my place if it doesn’t work out,” you reminded her as she stood.

After Vanya left you went home. You puttered around your apartment, doing some cleaning and odd jobs that had been abandoned in the past week of your busy life. Your life returned somewhat to normal in the next few days, with the only exception being the absence of the Hargreeves siblings. You didn’t think much of it, considering their father had just died and you knew many sides of the tension that sat between them all. Just as the thought crossed your mind that some semblance of normalcy had finally found you, you opened your apartment door to Diego pacing in front of your couch.

“Are you ok?” you both froze as the same phrase left your lips.

You recovered first,

“Is Vanya ok?”

“Where have you been?” Diego was crossing your small apartment, shutting the front door behind you before ushering you towards the kitchen.

“Is Vanya ok?” you were firmer in your words this time.

“Vanya is fine, why do you keep asking?” Diego slid a glass of water towards you.

“I haven’t heard from her in a few days, didn’t think you would be here unless something happened to her.”

Diego waited for you to take a sip of the water before speaking.

“The world is ending. Five came back, he- he time traveled to the future and the apocalypse is in three days.”

“Ok,” you took another sip from the glass in front of you.

A beat of silence.

“You’re going to try to stop it, right? Your siblings are all in town, if you all worked together…”

“Nobody’s doing much work except me at the moment,” Diego all but growled his sentence in frustration. You wanted to wrap him in a hug and tell him everything was going to be ok, but you knew that would do more harm than good. Still, you wondered why exactly the impending apocalypse had brought him to your apartment. It was clear he hadn’t completely forgotten about you, considering he remembered your preference for a glass of water while processing hard information. You couldn’t deny that being with Diego was easier than breathing.

“(y/n),” his fingers brushed your chin, bringing your eyes to meet his, “you’ll come over, right?”

“Of course. I’ll pack a bag, take anything here that you need,” you gestured to the kitchen as you brushed past him to your bedroom.

The drive back to the Umbrella Academy was unreasonably comfortable. Diego’s car was exactly how you remembered it, the muscles in your hand ached to reach over and intertwine your fingers like they had done so many times prior.

After Diego parked, he grabbed your bag from the backseat, then walked protectively by your side as you approached the door.

“It might still be heated in there. If it gets too bad, we’re going to the gym.” You nodded your understanding as he reached for the handle.

As soon as he pushed the door open you could hear the shouting.

“Diego?”

“Where did you go?”

“We need a plan, you can’t just walk out on a family meeting.”

“When did (y/n) get here?”

Diego didn’t flinch as words were thrown at him, his siblings rounding the corner to bombard him. You didn’t need to be there to know Diego must have chosen a poor time to leave to see you. Without much more time for thought, Diego’s hand slipped into yours and firmly led you up the stairs without a word to his siblings. He practically dragged you into his old room and shut the door. Your bag was dropped on the floor, then he face-planted onto his bed. You perched on the edge of the mattress, a tentative hand reaching out to caress his muscled back.

After a minute of quiet, he lifted his head from the pillow and turned to face you. Another minute and he sat up, pulling you further onto the bed and into his arms.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Di, but I can’t help but wonder why you’d bring me here if the whole point of us not seeing each other anymore was to keep me out of danger.”

Diego sighed before speaking, his breath warm on the top of your head.

“You were the first person I thought of when Five said the world was ending. At first I thought I needed to say goodbye to you, but that wasn’t good enough. Maybe we aren’t meant to be together forever but if the world is ending I just want to hold you and love you. So… stay the night?”

You settled deeper into his arms, letting yourself relax for the first time that afternoon. You had spent the past year trying to forget how this felt, trying to process the pain that came with the thoughts of this man. You couldn’t have fathomed that this is how your story would end.

“Diego?”

You felt his chest rumble as he hummed his acknowledgement.

“Are you scared?”

“Not anymore,” his arms tightened around you, “are you?”

#TUA #tua fanfic #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves fanfic #the umbrella academy #non platonic imagine

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