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enrapture · 9 months

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Before anything is misread because I know you’ll see this. No, this has NOTHING to do with the shirt. This is much much bigger than that and I’ve discussed this with you time and time again. (The person knows who without stating names for personal reasons.) and before you make assumptions or insinuate things, no I’m not talking shit about you with anyone. I hold no hatred. I’m more hurt than anything else. But no I have no reason to talk shit about you. Not like it matters to you at all… but that’s just so you know. This is speaking broadly here.

I give up. You’ve shown me your true colors. Mistreated me. Basically symbolically spit in my face and tore my heart to shreds. Kicked my kindness to the ground and abused my good nature. Toyed with my emotions and kept me handing on a string. You never deserved me. And only kept me around when you saw fit. You never once cared about my feelings or thoughts. You only cared about yourself and your own benefit. As many times as I discussed with you and how you made me feel. As many times as I cried and felt the heartbreak and the pain the anger the frustration and the confusion…. I gave you 5 chances. You said you’d change. You ghosted me every fucking time. I still wanted to see it through. I OPENED UP TO YOU. I was vulnerable with you. And all in the fucking world that I wanted was just your quality time. I DIDNT WANT ANYTHING ELSE. I just wanted us hanging out or talking. THE MINIMALEST OF EFFORT. all I wanted was a friend. And all you gave me was pain and broken promises. You’re no better than my dad. Than my own blood relatives…… I treated you well as if you were a family member despite the fire grip you shook me with. I NEVER wanted perfection. I NEVER expected it. I understood that mistakes happen. I understood growth and what that takes which is why I gave you so many fucking STUPID ASS chances. And you never changed. YOU HURT ME EVERY FUCKING GODDAMN TIME. I give up. I GIVE, I FOLD. It’s pointless. I didn’t deserve any of the mistreatment you gave me. ITS NOT HARD TO BE A GOOD PERSON AND TO TREAT SOMEONE WELL. ITS LITERAL BUILDING BLOCKS TO ANY RELATIONSHIP/FRIENDSHIP. I believed your lies and saw through them because I figured maybe he didn’t mean it. It’s just a mistake, they happen he’s learning he’s growing but I was the fool there. I disregarded my friendships / everyone around me who told me to not take you back in my life. To not believe you to block you to leave you alone…Because I thought through mistakes there’s growth but there was absolute 0. No apology will fucking fix this. You ruined and severed any bridge that was built between us. You ruined me in a way as a person. You ruined my trust of people. You made my anxiety(panic disorder) & depression worse….how the fuck do you think any of this is okay? Remotely justified? You’re fucked.

We slept together for the first time and although it didn’t at all go as planned you treated me like i was someone you tolerated…. You acted like you didn’t even wanna be around me…. It’s fucked up. I never expected all your time, I never wanted all of it all the time. But i actually enjoyed your company WHEN IT WAS GOOD, which was very little because it seemed like you didn't want me around unless for one thing only which was your benefit if you hadnt ghosted me over and over and over...REAL FRIENDS HANG OUT WITH EACH OTHER.... But REAL FRIENDS DONT TREAT THEIR FRIENDS LIKE THE WAY YOU DID ME. REAL FRIENDS don’t make their friends cry repeatedly. REAL FRIENDS don’t LIE. Real friends don’t constantly in a way abuse their fucking friends. REAL FRIENDS are open, honest, understanding, reliable, caring, supportive, communicate their feelings and their needs, value quality time over anything else… etc. Real friends VALUE AND RESPECT YOU. like everything I did for you. You just treated me like fucking trash. Like a cigarette you’re ready to smoke and then put out and then smoke again when you’re feeling the urge. i LIKED you.... You told me how I'm one of the few people you actually enjoyed talking with / looked forward to hearing from.... what the fuck dude.

I’m more than that. I’m more than just someone you can use and throw the fuck away. I’m more than just an object. I’m more than just oh let me text her once and then go a few months without talking at all just to do it again. I’m more than that. So much more. I tried so hard to see it through to see it all through and it’s exhausting it’s upsetting…. It’s heartbreaking to feel like this. To know I never meant a fucking thing. To know that I thought about you but you never thought about me. To know that we were never friends in the first place…. That everything was once sided on my end… and you would once in a blue moon put in a tiny tiny crumb worth of work… it’s not cool. It’s not fair. It’s majorly messed up. And I’m done. I’m crying rn. But I’m Done. I can’t do it anymore. You fucked up. And it’s irreparable this time. I always spoke well of you. I never meant any harm or issues of any kind. You brought this upon yourself. You can go ahead and talk shit about me. I could care less. But you and I both know that I was good to you. And meant well with every fiber of my soul.

Thank you for showing me your true colors. It really opened my eyes on my worth and what I deserve. You’ve taught me what I don’t want in my life anymore and the ways that I want to be treated. You’ve hurt me, caused me great pain and I’m sure this is all hilarious to you. I’m sure you think I’m crazy… that’s fine, you only ever saw things from your perspective and never ever once saw things from mine. Never considered my thoughts or feelings at all…. I hope one day you can gain a sense of empathy. My heart hurts. And the pain will last for a while. It’s what I get for trying to make things work and see them through but it was all lies you shoved down my throat. “I actually had feelings for you…..” you said to me…. “I wanna make it up to you.” should’ve known it was a fucking joke. I never wanted to rush into any sort of relationship with you…. I wanted to become good friends and become close…. Don’t ever get that twisted. I liked you more than a friend at one point but you fucked what we had. you ruined it all. You’re a horrible human being. I bet it really feels good to toy with someone’s emotions like that. How fucked up are you actually? Because to mess with someone’s emotions the way you did mine IS MAJOR. That’s what a bully does…… a fuckboy? Absolutely since you got all you needed from me and ghosted me time and time again. One sided relationship/friendship. It’s disgusting. You’re revolting. You disgust me. you never meant anything that you said. You never cared. It was a mistake on my end letting you back in but looking back I was always good to you and never did you wrong or ghosted you or even remotely treated you badly in the ways that you treated me… Thank you for causing it. Actually, thank you for all of it. No one would’ve done for you what I did. And that shows that our souls really are different. That shows more of my character than it does yours. But good luck with that. I never would’ve done what you did to me to even my worst enemy. How could you?

I tried so hard to understand you. To be there for you when you were down. To be a friend to you. To love you unconditionally. To be there despite it all. To accept all that you are. To grow with you. To be a genuine friend in your life. To despite the circumstances and the pain inbetween I tried to be a light in your life but all you gave me was pain / complications and used me and manipulated me and gaslit me and just fucked me over. Treated me like a deck of cards as if we’re playing a game. I lose every time. No draw. I never wanted to win. I never wanted anything more than simplicity. I wanted a friend. I thought that we had that. I fucking thought we WERE FRIENDS. I thought that we were gaining a bond a connection if you will- that people who were close had. Give or take time is the real winner there. But the bigger picture clearly shows everything I needed to see. and I’ve never seen clearer waters like the one that you are. It sucks. The bitter taste you hold in my mouth makes me sick. My heart is crushed and my feelings are hurt horribly. and I just… I’ve seen it all along but refused to believe it out of the acts of change/what it means to grow and make mistakes. and to think for a fucking split second I had hope that you were genuine, had fucking hope that you would grow, change, become better and treat me with respect....that maybe your words MEANT something and that there would be actions followed right behind them..... I was DEAD fucking wrong. I can't BELIEVE I DOUBTED YOU. My gut was always right. The mistake all along was just you. :(

you fucked me up. you robbed me of my good heart. you betrayed me. you spoon fed me lies. Feelings you claimed you had? ALL THE SHIT YOU SAID IN FEBUARY. all the shit you said over text.... YOU PLAYED ME. I'm just a game to you? all i ever was was fucking game... are you kidding me? you're a fucking liar. an ASSHOLE. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?

It is what it is. Sayonara.

#you’re the worst of them all #it’s your loss not mine

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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

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Speak Up

A commission for @mintocchi ! Thank you so very much for your patience while I moved everything around :D

Summary: You and Crypto have been in a relationship for awhile now, and he's still got issues when trying to speak up for things that he wants. You always try to get him to voice his opinions and concerns, and somehow this leads to training him how via the bedroom. Or! In which Crypto needs to learn to stop being an actions over words guy or else you'll make him beg over and over again for what he wants.

Reblogs > Likes. Please Reblog if you hit Like :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Crypto/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reader is gender neutral and written with a vulva, they were originally supposed to be a cis gal but there’s no real language depicting them as strictly a gal!, Denial and forcing Crypto to beg and use his big boy words, P tame kink wise!

Words: 5k

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Starstruck.

That’s how you had first felt when you had met Crypto.

You were a new camera operator on the set of the Apex games, someone who got all the good angles and made sure the drone cameras could really catch all the action. You’d met him the same season he’d been introduced, noting how he’d been cold and disregarding, yet appeared confident in himself. But his eyes, they’d been so...paranoid. Especially when you approached to introduce yourself as one of the camera operators.

He’d regarded you with a short, quick nod. Odd, you’d thought. But that had quickly vanished when Elliott had taken you aside and chatted you up, an arm slung around your shoulder and a grin on his face. “Hey, don’t mind the kid, probably still jet lagged, dropships, bein’ legends and all- anyway sooooo I hear you operate those cameras now, huh? Make sure you get all my good angles- not that any of them are bad, just, you know, keep that attention on the money maker you feel me? The money maker being me, of course-”

~Rest under the cut~

“Mirage.” Crypto’s voice had cut in between you two, watching as you both had turned and you could note his irritated look at Elliott before a much more apologetic one was glanced your way. “Apologies. He does not understand personal boundaries-”

Elliott feigns a dramatic gasp, cutting Crypto off with his free hand against his own chest as if wounded.

You stifle your laugh when Elliott keeps up the act, sputtering before pointing at Crypto accusingly. “Woah, woah, woah, I’ll have you know that I know this lovely thing. Used to be the tech head up iiiiiiin- audio, right?” He turns towards you after that, squeezing his arm around your shoulders in a friendly way as you beam at being remembered.

“That’s right! I was actually hoping to speak to you, Crypto,” You gesture at him, noting Crypto’s light surprise of raised eyebrows before confusion and worry passes his features. Quick to overthink, huh?

You’re quick to follow up to ease his possible fears. “N-not! Not as an employee, I mean, I just- your, uh, your drone. They kinda remind me of an old camera used back in the day and I was wondering if you had any tips or tricks I might be able to pick up on?”

That’s what started the relationship in the first place. Crypto, that day, had offered merely a one shouldered shrug, but after Mirage giving him a look and whining to him like a puppy, he’d agreed. Resulting in you having your own private session with him as he helped you learn a few tips. You were already trained in operating the newer models, but having a few pointers never hurt.

The entire time he’d asked questions about you, it almost felt like he was interrogating you rather than trying to start up curious small talk. But, to ease any fears he might have had about you having ulterior motives, you answered as honestly as possible to each one. Judging by his more paranoid nature, you didn’t ask any in turn for fear of him shying away.

The least you wanted to do was make Crypto feel as though you were untrustworthy.

As you two grew closer, the more relaxed he became around you. No more tips were to be given, so that excuse flew out the window, so you’d offered hang outs. It took a few tries until he finally mumbled he’d feel more comfortable in his room, which is where you two ended up being and you learned he had a sweet little cat named Isabella-Marie.

You had smiled at her name, asking where he got the idea from, and he’d smiled softly- almost sadly when he’d said she was his sister’s cat he took in, but no more information. Said cat took to you nicely, and just as she had, Crypto started warming up to you as well.

It was a slow, slow process. You took your time with him and learned that the personality he put on was nothing but a front. Something to keep more hidden. In private, he’s so soft, almost shy in his approach to you. He’s still got his sarcastic tongue, but he’s more playful when in private with you. Much like a cat. You see him opening up the slightest bit to people he’s starting to enjoy too- Elliott and Natalie both seem to have won some sort of favor with him.

That friendship slowly worked its way into romantic.

The first time you kissed him is with your hand cupping his cheek and his cheeks flushed red as his dark eyes flickered to your lips multiple times until you took initiative. It took a bit of coaxing to even get him to rest his hands on your waist, but once that had happened, it’s like he’d been so touch starved all his life. Clinging to you and sighing into your mouth as if he’d just sunken into bed after a long day.

His need for touch didn’t surprise you considering when you offered hugs and snuggles that he’d melt into you and cling to you so tightly. Your height difference, with you being much shorter, made that kind of funny when he’d lean down to bury his face in your neck and you’d stand on your tiptoes to make it easier. All within a private setting- outside of these rooms, you were both strictly professional.

Crypto’s name had been revealed to you not long after. Tae Joon Park. You both agreed that if you used it frequently that you might yell it in public, so it was reserved for more intimate moments or serious when you two were alone. You were mindful about switching his name, so you kept to using ‘Crypto’ in your head to ensure you wouldn’t fuck it up.

Though, it never failed to delight you in hearing him sigh fondly when you’d mumble his name by his ear after a sweet kiss.

Dates were more reserved for the bedrooms as well. You never minded that either, but sometimes on rare occasions, he’d don a mask and a hood so you two could go out. You could only imagine the type of anxiety those outings brought, but it always warmed your heart that he was willing to take a breath and push himself out to do these things for you. In turn, you would spend the nights with him, with his head on your chest and his arms squeezing around your middle.

Crypto, you quickly find however, is really bad at vocalizing his desires.

He’s a man of action, hardly using his words and if he did it was one worded or quick. You’ve been trying to help him on communication skills for both your sakes, but it’s more difficult on him. It doesn’t help that he’s quiet either, so sneaking up behind you to snake his arms around you normally results in you jumping and making a squeak sound.

But it also meant that for more...bedroom activities, that he would use actions. You always knew when he wanted something, you weren’t blind to it, you just wanted to make 100% sure of what he wanted. Normally resulting in you straddling his lap, a hand around his neck and speaking low for him to tell you what he wanted.

Crypto always got the cutest face anytime you took the reins and control. A healthy flush over his cheeks, his breathing heavier and his eyes pleading, but his mouth refusing.

Stubborn was a good way to put it. How his eyebrows would furrow and he’d whimper and buck his hips up, but not tell you what he wanted. It took a lot of trial and error to even get him to utter ‘please’ at times. Your poor baby.

You especially found you liked teasing him. Learning quick that he liked nicknames like ‘Good boy’ and ‘Baby boy’. You enjoyed edging him, tying him up or even just making him cling to the sheets or his own hair as his hips humped the air and he sobbed without begging for you. Always trying so hard to convey in his body language what he wanted you to do.

You found yourself mesmerized by his desperation at a lot of times. Where Crypto’s kiss flushed lips would part, his eyebrows knitted and his eyes frantic on you. His own hands gripping his hair to follow instructions on not to touch you as his hips thrust into the air and made his thick cock bob.

Sometimes you wondered if he could cum just by humping the air alone.

Another time, you’d always tell yourself, always so eager to hear that final sobbed out word of ‘Please’ before you would swing your legs over him and ride him hard and fast. Normally fit with cruel croons about what a sweet, pathetic little thing he looked like. Your very good boy.

That’s what you were thinking of now as you sat on the couch in his quarters, waiting for him to return from his match in the arena.

Isabella-Marie is happily purring in your lap as your hand strokes through her soft, strawberry blonde fur. You’ve set up there with a blanket over your lap that she’s kneading happily, the match Crypto had been in having ended about an hour ago. You could tell he was struggling, too much talking around him that was reflecting in his steps.

He’d been in a team with Mirage and Wattson, both people you knew he liked being around, but unfortunately, they kept striking up conversation. Leading to Crypto being off his rhythm. But it was nice to hear him breathe out in amusement at their antics sometimes, caught on the audio feed with the announcers crooning about how it looked like he made some friends finally.

They at least made it to the top three. Fighting valiantly to maintain their location on World’s Edge in the city. Mirage had gotten cocky when they’d knocked two of the opposite team, going up to finish them off and ending up with a shotgun in the back and a cracking snarl in the sky of Bloodhound.

The rest is history. But, at least you knew Bloodhound wouldn’t be the type to gloat and act cocky if they caught Crypto- at least out loud. You’re glad it was them rather than Caustic. Bad blood ran deep between them, not to mention Natalie struggling herself with it all. You were glad her and Crypto could solve whatever issue it was that ran between them- one that not even you were aware of.

Security and secrecy, Crypto had told you with apology in his eyes. You understood, some things were best kept secret. Especially in case you accidentally got caught up in a mess, you could genuinely say you had no idea what was happening in all the legends’ lives.

The beep of the door being unlocked makes Isabella-Marie awaken, doing a stretch across your lap before she chirps and hurries to the door to greet Crypto. She curls around his feet as he removes his shoes at the door before entering any further into the room in the rest of his gear.

“Hello, sweetheart,” You hear him tiredly coo downwards, hearing Isabella-Marie's delighted chirp as she’s scooped up, quickly followed by her loud motor engine of a purr.

You slide off the couch, dressed in your lounging outfit of soft black sweatpants covered with cliché little green alien heads and a loose gray sweater with a green Apex symbol over the right breast, the collar falling off your shoulders. Crypto looks worse for wear, his eyes are tired and he’s got dirt smudged on his cheek and smells heavy of sweat. Not that Isabella-Marie minds. Nor you.

“Hey,” You greet him, a smile on your face as his eyes rest on you whilst his cat presses her cheek in insistent strokes against his chin, cradled in his arms.

“Hey,” He murmurs back to you, adjusting Isabella-Marie in his arms when you reach for him. Despite his tired expression, his cheeks flush when he leans down and to the side for you to cup his cheeks and peck a kiss on his lips in greeting.

“You need a shower. You go wash up and I’ll order dinner.” You tell him, offering your arms out for Isabella-Marie to be transferred to your arms in all her purring glory. “What were you thinking tonight?”

“Mmh.” Is his only reply, leaning down to rest his cheek on the top of your head in a small nuzzle. Affectionate boy. You laugh a bit, gently nudging him with your hip as Isabella-Marie jumps out of your arms. Giving you time to hook your arms around his waist and shove your hands into his back pockets under his jacket to draw him close and make him blush.

“Tae Jooooon,” You tease his name, enjoying how he hums low in his throat in response and turning his head to press his lips against the top of your head in a kiss. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t go your whole life being a one worded man.”

“Mmh.” He responds again, this time with a smile that you feel.

You shove at him playfully to shoo him off for the shower, calling out after his back when he goes dutifully towards the bathroom. “Fine! But if you don’t like what I picked because you didn’t give any options, I don’t wanna hear you complain!”

Not that he ever did complain. If he was picky this would be a bigger concern. But thankfully you two seemed to be on the same page a lot of times, especially when it came to food.

The food you order is Chinese takeout, getting here just in time for when Crypto emerges from his long shower looking a lot more awake and less grouchy. He’s dressed in his thick framed glasses, his normally slicked back hair nice and slick, some black sweatpants and a loose white crop-top, something you appreciate very greatly to be able to see his fit frame.

Like a nerdy jock.

You show your enjoyment when you wrap your arms around him from behind when he goes to look at what you got for dinner. Running your nails up his exposed beauty-marked, warm skin on his abdomen to feel him squirm and lean back against you with this flustered huff falling from his lips.

Eventually you two make it to the couch where you have dinner and watch one of the K-dramas he liked to indulge in. Sometimes Crypto will pause it to explain a verbal pun that wasn’t caught via the subtitles for you, something that always makes you smile and appreciate when he takes the time to pause and explain for you.

Though you’re sure he doesn’t appreciate when you wait for his most distracted point in time to steal a piece of his food and shove it in your mouth too quickly for him to stop you. Resulting in him poking at you until you squeal from being tickled and he can take a piece off your food in retaliation as you whine at him after.

Domestic. That’s the best way you could describe yours and Crypto’s relationship.

Home.

After dinner is put away and teeth are brushed, you two settle back onto the couch. You curl up on the corner, Crypto following you to cuddle up to your side. His cheek rests against your shoulder, kind of tilting his body into you as you rest your arm behind him, your hand resting on his nape to slide up to pet at the shaved portion of his head. Another hum from him of appreciation, but not verbalizing his like of it.

Crypto softly adjusts, but you take it as nothing more than him getting closer to you with the soft sound of the TV in front of you. You’ve got your phone in your lap to play a puzzle game while he watches his show, very much like a cat as he rubs his cheek against your shoulder affectionately.

Another squirm, another adjustment is felt after a moment of him pressing his thigh to yours. You take it as him wanting to be closer, only sliding your fingers higher along his scalp to the coarse hair atop his head to lightly scratch at the root like he likes.

You don’t notice his mouth starting to part, quickly cut off with the ringing of your phone and you groaning aloud. “Really? Right now?” Before you’re answering it with a polite ‘Hello?’ that makes Crypto snort at your tone change.

He watches as you chat, watching your lips move and hearing you discuss footage and what your boss must have wanted you to edit or someone else. He’s not really paying attention when you’re still petting his hair. He tries to nudge closer to you, near flush with your side as his hand now rests on your thigh, hoping to catch your attention. You only offer him a quick smile before returning back to your conversation.

After five minutes, it’s clear this isn’t going to be a short call either.

A sigh is heard from Crypto before he’s leaning up to start pecking soft, brushing kisses on your neck. Your head tilts for him, only a light flutter of your lashes as you go ‘Mmhm yeah’ to whoever you are on the phone with. Your nails press lightly at his scalp, letting him know you feel him as his teeth lightly nip at your neck like you like.

You’re damned good at keeping your composure verbally, and now Crypto’s beginning to wonder if you’ve ever done anything on the phone with him without his knowledge. Even the mental image of you spread out and touching yourself while on the phone near making him whine, something he swallows down.

You clearly can feel him and see him. You offer a little smile when he peeks up at you, catching your gaze. Emboldened by you sparing even a little attention to him, his hand slides down to your wrist in hopes you’ll catch up to what he’s saying. Gently drawing it to his thigh and towards his inner thigh. And yet, you still chat on the phone, but now you’re squeezing and massaging his thigh, your pinkie lightly skimming over his crotch and making Crypto’s breath hitch against your shoulder.

His brows are furrowed, looking ever so frustrated as you now purposefully lengthen the conversation out by bringing back a point from the last game played. Crypto’s head tips lightly up to you, his eyes pleading with you when your knuckles brush over the bulge in his sweatpants.

Your eyes meet his and you quirk a brow with a light smirk on your face. Your eyes say enough for him, you’re sure, judging by how his face flushes and his brows furrow once again. You can see and feel how he squirms, realizing he’s not going to get anything until he uses his words.

He’s stubborn. He’s always so stubborn. Squirming in his place and getting more frustrated as you keep chatting. Only after three minutes does he finally give in when he realizes this isn’t going to work and you’re only going to keep teasing him through his pants.

“Please?” He all but whispers, his mouth felt quivering on your bare shoulder and his hot breath felt in a shaky exhale. “Please touch me, please?”

You smirk.

“Oh! Hey, boss, looks like I’ll have to chat with you tomorrow morning about that- uhuh, yeah, yeah, getting,” -You pause there to let out a feigned yawn- “Oof, yeah, getting real tired....uhuh, yeah, sounds good! Buh-bye.” Before you’re ending the call and practically pouncing on him.

You end up in his lap, straddling him and cupping his cheeks, brushing some of his hair from his face before you lean in to kiss him. Crypto’s hands find your waist, hovering at first before gripping you when you lick into his mouth after biting his lip to make him gasp.

You sit up higher to press him back into the couch, letting your hands slide into his hair for him to tip his head back when you pull at it. His moan is low and vibrates his chest when your tongue licks over his own, feeling his hips jerk lightly up and against your ass needily.

“I like when you beg,” You breathe as you part from the kiss, moving the kisses down his jawline and towards his ear where you lightly nip. “Do it again for me?”

“Nnh-” Is the only response he manages at first, his fingers shaking as they slide down to grip your hips when you start grinding across his lap. Back and forth to your own rhythm and feeling just how hard he is. Bless whoever made sweatpants.

Crypto’s so cute when you pull back to look at him. Where his head is tipped back and to the side, his lips parted and letting out ragged breaths with each drag of your hips across his lap. How his brows knit together when you grind low and slow downwards to catch his attention and his mouth falls closed to hiss.

But. He still wasn’t speaking.

“Be a good boy and tell me what you want, hm?” You try to encourage him, letting your hands fall down to his exposed abdomen to slide your hands up and under his crop top. Slipping your hands over his chest to thumb at his sensitive nipples, gently pinching and rolling them. Crypto whimpers sharply, his head rolling to the opposite side and looking more stubborn by the second as he strains to come up with words.

“I-I-” His voice comes out in a whine, framed by how his lips quiver and his blunt nails cling to your hips when you stop grinding to encourage him further. “I...I want your mouth. On- o-on my cock. Please?”

“Awww, baby, when you look that cute? I’d do just about anything for you.”

You move down his body, kissing your way down until you can slink in between his knees onto the floor. You waste no time in hooking your fingers under his sweatpants, your mouth watering as you follow his happy trail downwards as it gets more exposed. You tug them completely off with his underwear, watching his thick cock bounce with a satisfying bob and a drool of pre-cum from the flushed head peaking from foreskin.

Crypto covers his face with his hands to hide his burning red flush that edges down to his chest when you hum at him approvingly. But, judging by how his cock throbs, you already know that as he likes being watched and praised without words.

You take your sweet time kissing up his length and down his balls, letting your tongue run over the sensitive skin. Your hand holds the base, stroking downwards to pull back his foreskin, mouthing at the flushed head and letting your tongue slide against the slit in teasing dips until a whimper falls from his lips.

You tease him like this for a good enough amount of time before you even take him into your mouth fully. Suckling and bobbing your head, your free hand holding his hip to squeeze to remind him to keep his hips down when he starts trying to hump upwards into your mouth.

Anytime you feel how his cock jerks and you hear his breathing quicken; You stop. Pulling your mouth off to kiss at his hips and thighs instead. Squeezing on his legs soothingly and rubbing at his skin when Crypto whines and rolls his hips up with not a single word peeping from his lips. Even if now his arm is thrown over his forehead, able to see how he peeks open one eye to look down at you pleadingly.

You smile up at him each time before you take him in again. Suckling, licking, your nails sliding down his thigh until your hand can cup his balls and lightly squeeze. And each time you feel him get close, you pull back. The same bite of pain of your nails on his skin, same edging, the same denial even as pre-cum spills from his cock and it mixes with your drool to connect you with a sliver that makes him near sob when he sees you.

You know he liked it messy. Liked seeing the mess you could make.

The mess you could make of him.

You’re about to remind him that he needs to use his big boy words if he wants to get anywhere tonight. But, seems Crypto gets the memo when he starts pleading.

“Let me cum inside you, please, please, please- please let me cum i-inside you, please, I’ll be good-” His voice is breathy, a high whimper as his hips try to fuck up into the loose grip you have on his shaft. He just looks so pathetic for you right now. Just a teary, drooly, humpy mess.

You like how desperate looks on him.

“Mmmhhh, I dunno, baby,” You let your voice elongate your words, your breath fanning across his sensitive skin and causing his dick to jerk, lightly tapping your lower lip and making you smile. “You look awfully cute. Can’t you hold it a bit longer? C’mon, you can be my good boy and hold it, can’t you?”

Each end of your questions is punctuated with a drag of your lips across his cock, letting him feel how you murmur across his reddened skin.

Crypto sobs out again, his body jerking in sensitivity as both his hands come back up to hide his red face and teary eyes. His nod allows you to continue, continuing your teasing kisses and licks. Making sure to bite pain into his thighs to cause his mind to either associate the pain with pleasure or to back off his pleasure. Judging by the way he sobs out and twitches each time you scratch or bite him, you’re guessing it’s your prior guess.

“Please, please, please-” Crypto starts to sob when you deny him again, his cock jerking heavily and spilling pre-cum on his lower abdomen. His hands have fallen to grip the couch as best as he can, his teary gaze looking down at you and his lips quivering with his shaky breaths. So cute. “Please, I-I cannot take it anymore, please, please let me cum in you, I want to cum in you-”

You’ll give him credit. This is the most he’s ever spoken during sex, let alone been so clear in his needs and desires. Something you’ll praise him for later. For now, you smile up at him, wiping your mouth off on the back of your hand before standing to wriggle out of your lounge clothing.

Crypto’s quick to help you, hooking fingers in your sweater to help you out of it. It’s fit with your laughter as you nearly fall on him, lots of giggling when his mouth presses a kiss to your abdomen when you get halfway stuck through your sweater and pants. “Tae Joon-” You laugh out his name when you feel him smile against your abdomen, “C’mon, lil help here?”

Eventually you escape your clothing prison, able to set the mood again when your straddle his lap. You’re plenty wet enough, but you still take the time to tease him a bit more by reaching down to stretch yourself while hovering over his cock. You feel flustered as he watches you, sitting under you and looking up at you with such love in his eyes while you make soft sounds yourself.

It takes a few tries to line up correctly, but soon you’re bouncing your hips on him with your fingers in his hair and your mouth on his neck. He always sounds so pretty the way he cries out, clinging to your hips at first before his arms wind around you to hug you to his trembling frame. You pepper kisses all over his face, cupping his cheeks adoringly as you rest your foreheads together.

He cums rather quickly, clinging so hard to you as his hips frantically hump up against you. He ends up accidentally holding you still so he can thrust up into you, resulting in you clinging to him in turn with your lips parted and murmuring praise as he fucks you through his orgasm. He’s swearing in his mother tongue, something you can only catch bits and pieces of.

When Crypto’s done cumming, one of his hands quickly goes down to between both your bodies to rub at your clit as you hump against his cock still lodged inside you. He finds your lips to capture when you whimper out his name when you begin to cum, your nails biting into his shoulders as he rubs you through it.

By the time you’re both satisfied, you slump against his frame, burying your face into his neck as your sweaty bodies press together on the couch, still connected.

When both of your breathing settles, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, nuzzling himself there as his hands slide up and down your sides. You smile softly, adjusting your hips a bit and laughing a bit when he grunts in this little oversensitive way.

When you lift your head to meet his gaze, you smile a bit brighter, gently bumping your noses together. “Hey,”

“Hey,” He murmurs back just as fondly.

“You need a shower.”

He smiles when he realizes you’re replaying your interaction from earlier that day, reaching up to brush your frazzled hair from your face. “Mmh.”

“You need a shower with me?”

“Mmh.” He repeats, moving to rest his cheek atop your head as you laugh at him when you feel his chest shake with a quiet laugh in turn.

“Alright fine. Guess I’ll be getting a shower first and you’ll be left out here with your dick out and cold-”

That gets him. Pushing you off him and to the couch with a yelp from you as you fall gracelessly on your side and gasp as he takes off towards the shower and you quickly following after him with a playful swat to his ass when you catch up.

Yeah. You would say your guys’ relationship was domestic.

#Crypto #Crypto x Reader #Apex legends #apex lemons #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing

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mydearesthrry · 3 years

Text

places we won’t walk (chapter one) || peter parker

summary - the doors at midtown seem a little boring, but when you get introduced to someone you seem to remember, what happens when they seem to remember you too?

word count - 2.9k (wow shes gettin better!)

pairings - peter parker x fem!reader

warnings - like mild mention of s*xual assault, angst if you squint really hard, mj being a softy for you, mj being a lowkey bi, peter being stupid as always, y/n calling peter a colonizer.... thats it ok enjoy

a/n: so i know i last updated in october, but as u all saw i have a 25 days of xnas thing going on (PLS I WROTE THE A/N LIKE A MONTH AGO PLUS I FORGOT ABOUT THE XMAS THING DISREGARD) so pwww updates will be slow (as if they werent already omg) but the next chapter will be arriving hopefully, fingers crossed, on xmas eve or xmas! also, are you guys watching the new euphoria episode? also, i’ve stopped using the word ‘stuttering’, as it may be ableist, and i’d never wanna come off as insensitive. anyway lmao, enjoy chapter one, the trials and tribulations of hitting someone in the nuts.

also side note psa: biggest thank you to @blossomparkers for helping me so much w this chapter. i owe it all tooooo u lani yani. thank u for everything !!!!!

series masterlist | regular masterlist | series playlist

(gif not mine!)

when y/n y/m/n stark was in her early years, she was never aware of the impact her father would and did hold over her life, and in turn, the whole world. for the longest time, you’d always assumed that your father wasn’t real, and everything that had been told to you by malicious family members who were jealous over your father’s “successes” had been lies, and you had it believed yourself. no one would even think that you were tony stark’s daughter until it had been mentioned. tony’s snarky attitude had been a character trait that you’d gotten, and you always took pride in your humor and attitude.

the story of your mother and tony had been messy and all over the place. from a drunken hook-up followed by multiple days of morning sickness, to a surprise pregnancy test, the storyline of your parents had been.. well.. interesting to say the least. you never focused on your family’s history, solely based on the fact that you didn’t have two fucks to give about your family history, but you also never knew your father which was-- bizarre.

when tony had found out about you, he claimed it was a drunken accident, a mistake, and one he made when he was “less responsibly a stark”, which was actually just some fucking bullshit, but he didn’t wanna admit that he hooked up with some random chick at a bar that he thought was hot.

since you had been raised by a mother who was barely there, you had to raise yourself. you were kinda street smart and book smart, and you were always smart when it came to books, because you were the type to want to learn-- unlike others.

when you were in your teen years, you had tabs on you and the media on you 24/7 to make sure you didn’t royally fuck up. the unwanted attention became too much when you started realizing that people didn’t want you for your personality, they wanted you for your title. but this was after you moved from brooklyn. nuvale and peter never saw you as some “movie star”, or some famous person in the media because you weren’t. but when you had grown to learn what your father did, he had forced you to not fuck up to maintain his-- somewhat okay reputation.

you always wanted that superstar life, as a fantasy of course, but when you got to it, you realized the cliche-y-ness of it all. you’d idolized the famous women in the media-- idolized how they looked like. you realized fairly quick how fucked up the media truly is. you realized how things really aren’t as they seem. its not just the galas that look extravagant, or getting to wear a fancy new gucci outfit every night. it honestly was a whole bunch of other shit you wouldn’t even imagine. it comes with the no privacy thing- people stalking you in public, the death threats, so much shit that wouldn’t happen as common if you were just anonymous.

being an avenger (basically), your dad had natasha teach you the ropes; the basic rules of how to kick someones ass. it was a handbook that the women of the avengers had created, and it had all the rules and regulations of how to spar someone on the team, and basically how to righteously beat someone's ass up. it was never really something you found too important, but as you grew older, you realized that it was very important to know, especially since you were a girl.

despite your harsh remarks and snarky attitude, your father always knew how to hit a sensitive point in you that always managed to break you down. you never quite understood why he would want to make you feel worse about yourself than you already felt, but regardless, you always felt underappreciated by him. being a stark, you were expected to be a genius, get over the top grades, and constantly be able to keep up, but with your luck, you were graced with depression, social anxiety, and a 4.0 gpa. fun, right?

wrong.

when you were 11, you had made friends with the kids in your apartment halls, and you learned that their names were nuvale jones and peter parker, and you were basically the golden trio. you were hermione, peter was ron, and nuvale was harry. which, now that you look back at it, makes much more sense than any other arrangement. you also had another friend, harry osborn, but once he moved away, there was no way for you to talk to him anymore. he had moved across the country to california, and from then, it was just you, peter, and nuvale. your best friends ha been there for you for what seemed like decades, although you only knew them for about three.

peter was the boy with the rosy cheeks who little 12 year old you would get butterflies in her tummy. or the type of boy to bring you an extra snack if you weren’t able to pack it the night before. he was the type of boy to walk you to the nurses office if you got hit with a dodgeball. he was the type of boy to fall for someone like you. but he didn’t. or so you thought.

little prebubescent y/n was an awkward girl who thought the world would be on her side when she needed it the most, or that whenever you needed peter or nuva, they would be there. you didn’t think your best friend would stop talking to you after you had moved away. you were too naive to know that peter liked you, and you were too naive to know that he had liked you back, but you wanted to believe what your brain would tell you, so you decided to flush your feelings down the drain and forget about them, which, in hindsight, was a pretty shitty idea. who would’ve known?

your alarm clock blared loudly from beside you, causing you to let out a loud groan in protest. you hit the side of your head angrily, then whining and rubbing the spot which you hit. whines and loud sighs fell from your lips as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and pulled the covers over your head, knowing what would come next after you would try to snooze your alarm.

“good morning, miss stark, how could i be of service to you this morning?” friday’s voice echoed through your large bedroom. you peaked your eyes and forehead from beneath the covers, your eyes slowly starting to adjust to the light that was pulled through the big blinds which were now open.

“mmm, fri, just tell happy to get the car ready, ill be ready in a few min- nevermind, tell him to get ready in thirty, im probably gonna fall asleep in the shower.” you croaked, taking your phone from the charger which was on your nightstand. you slipped on your bunny slippers and turned on the heater in your room, the draft filling your room with cold air throughout the night.

-------

once you walked through the large industrial doors of midtown’s cafeteria, everyones voices started to drop into sharp hushed whispers, making you roll your eyes and pull your hood up over your face. you pulled your airpods from your pockets into your ears and tried your best to avoid any and all eye contact with anyone you did end up coming into contact with. you walked over to the food bar where you grabbed a red school tray and plastered on your best smile to the lunch ladies who work oh so hard to make sure you all were fed. as you walked through the line, you could feel the intensified stares on you, making your back erupt in chills. you didn’t like to be watched, and the fact that you were a so-called celebrity didn’t help your cause in any way.

“hey.” a low voice called from behind you. it was a girl with curly hair with gorgeous light brown skin, and a jawline that would cut you. you were almost astonished by her beauty, but you remembered the facade you had to hold, especially to strangers that you didn’t know.

“hey?” you asked unsurely, wondering if she was with the media or not. which was something that tended to happen quite a bit.

“don’t worry, i’m not with the press. you just seem interesting.” she said in a monotone voice, but still with a strong look of seriousness on her face. you giggled softly when your eyes locked and your faces went totally still, making the girl in front of you laugh as well. she held out her hand in front of you, while also balancing her tray and book in the other hand. you placed yours into hers and shook it, smiling when she told you her name.

“michelle jones.” she smiled, your throat getting a little tight at her last name, and you had to admit that it struck a little chord within you, but you quickly cleared it from your thoughts and introduced yourself as well.

“y/n stark. pleasure to meet you, jones.”

“pleasure to meet you too.”

“so, i get that you’re new here,” she started walking, inviting you to walk along with her. “what- what are you doing here? i mean i get you’re smart and all, but this is a nerd school; you literally could’ve gone anywhere, so, might i ask, why here?”

“hm, interesting question. seriously i don’t know. my dad and i don’t really get along so he makes the decisions and i tell him if i like it or not. which by the way, i’m gonna have to stay near you-- you’re the only one making this bearable for me right now.” you snorted, nudging your elbow to hers.

“hm, daddy issues. great song, love the artists.” she smirked, making you shoot your head back in loud laughter, gaining some side eyed glances from a few people sitting at the tables around you.

“so, where are we sitting? i usually nev-”

“hey mj!” you were interrupted by a boyish laugh and hoots and hollers coming from a table two tables ahead of you.

“jesus fucking christ. what? just because i got some and you didn’t doesn’t mean that you have to be that fuckin’ loud about it.” she grumbled, placing her tray down, slinging the backpack on her right shoulder beside her. you looked at her with a nervous but curious glint in your eyes. she gave you a knowing look which said, ‘just go with what i say’, making you nod in understanding.

“woah! holy shit! i m- i mean woah- nice to- nice to meet you!” the boy fumbled over his words, looking at you and michelle in disbelief, shaking his friends shoulder and poking at his cheek.

“nice cut, g. looks nice.” you said to him, giggling as you stuck your straw into the mini juice box.

“o-oh, thanks… g?” he said back to you, observing your looks with a confused expression written on his face making you giggle at his confusion.

“peter! look! y/n stark is at our table!” he whisper shouted to his friend, making you look at michelle with a smile on your face and playfully rolling your eyes. she looked back at you, rolling her eyes as well, gesturing to her head as if saying ‘idiots’, making you giggle and turn back to them.

“so, bowl cut dude, what’s your name?” you nodded to him, picking at your salad with the blac spork that was so cordially given to you by mj.

“n-ned, ned leeds.” he smiled sheepishly.

“and you, colonizer, what’s your name?” you tapped on the table, alerting the boys attention. you could hear michelle and ned hollering and snickering from their seats, but decided to keep your poker face rolling. but i mean, how couldn’t you? the look on his face was absolutely priceless.

“peter park- wait did you just call me a colonizer?” he cut himself off in his own sentence, looking at his other friends for confirmation, to which they nodded, still cackling at the fact that you had indeed call him a colonizer.

“peter park, hm?” you teased, ignoring the way you hesitated and ignoring the way your chest felt heavy when the name of peter was said.

“n-no thats not my name-” he said, tripping over his words, making you let out a chuckle.

“i’m messing with you. with what you’ve given me, i could only guess your name is peter parker?” you rested your chin on your hand, engaging in the awkward conversation.

“yeah. thats my name.” he said more confidently, giving you a tight lipped smile.

“nice to meet you, parker.”

“you too, stark, my pleasure.”

----

after the small encounter with your new found friends, you had gone back to your respective classes, which meant that your next class had peter in it. after you had split up, you decided to get there early to avoid any commotion surrounding you.

as the boring class continued, you heard the loud clicking of high heels in the hallways, which had to be one person and one person only.

“stark,” someone shouted from the door which swung open. low and behold, in front of you was the prickly bitch, your principal, mrs cunningham. “come with me, eugene’s parents have requested a meeting with you and your father considering that you had just hit their son in the private areas!” everyone snickered and laughed. finally someone had stood up to flash’s shit.

“y- you punched flash in the nuts? i thought that was just a rumor?” peter stuttered, looking at you in disbelief.

“yeah, the fuck was i gonna do? let him flirt with me? no. that bitch tried to grab my ass. i’m a stark, i was raised better than that.” you whispered to him, packing your bag as you did so.

“hm, guess you’re right. well, good luck stark.”

“thanks parker.”

--------

once you arrived in the principals office, you saw what seemed to be his mother in one of the seats decked out in expensive pearls and diamonds. typical.

“little miss over here punched my son in the privates! i will not allow this to happen!” fuck. you thought; another one of those stuck up cunty parents.

“pfft, probably paid to get their son into here.” you muttered under your breath, playing with your protection bracelets incase anything was to ever happen.

“wHAT? mrs cunningham, i will not allow this child to talk about my son this wa-”

“hello! i was called in?” a voice interrupted, one you could only peg as your father.

“ahh! mr stark! you’re finally here!” your hilarious excuse as a principal said cheerfully.

“i am! and i am here to.. come and have a meeting about my daughter's- behavior?” he asked questiongly, already seeing the triumphant and cocky look on your face. he knew you weren’t at fault, and you were gonna lie your pretty ass out of it.

“well, mr stark, we have a student in the nurses room due to the actions of your daughter!” she looked at him menacingly. he shook his head with a smile on his face and walked over to you, grasping your shoulders in his hands.

“well kiddo, wanna explain what and why you did what you did?” he smiled, giving you two taps on your shoulder, already knowing what was next. you two had a pretty good acting schedule when it came to it, when in reality, you despised eachother.

“sure daddy! eugene had been hitting on me for several days now, and even found my private social medias in use to.. how can i say this, use me for my fame? he tried talking to me, very inappropriately on several occasions, and even went as far as to try and grab me in areas in which i find extremely inappropriate, without my consent, might i add, which doesn’t seem okay with me. does it seem exceptional to you, mrs thompson?” you asked, while only keeping your eyes on his mother.

“why, i am so sorry miss stark! his father will be in contact, i did not raise my baby to be this way! im sorry for any inconvenience he may have caused you!” she gasped, raising a hand to her heart.

“it’s okay, i just request, may this never happen again? i would not like my privacy to be invaded, much less from your son, and can i please ask that he never try to hit on me, nor any girls at this school ever again? i can only imagine how many other girls this may have happened to, mrs thompson.” you sighed, your eyes filling up with fake tears. you reached up to touch your fathers hand, tapping it twice back, knowing that you both had just won.

“never again miss stark, once again, i am so sorry this happened to you.”

“it’s okay. now mrs cunningham, shall we see our way out?” your father answered for you, looking over at the old white woman who looked like a piece of cheese. she could only nod in awe, giving you the cue to pick up your bags and walk proudly to the door.

“thanks i guess.” you muttered, pulling out your airpods once more, hoping to seal the conversation with your father.

“yeah yeah, no problemo.” he muttered back, avoiding eye contact and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

once you reached the door, you remembered that you had left something in your locker, and informed your dad that you’d be going back to get it. he all but nodded and looked back at his shoes before trudging to the car.

once you entered the seemingly halls, much to your surprise, you saw a scrawny teenage boy lifting open a set of lockers, which you didn’t even know was possible, and pulling out a red and blue suit. once you saw who the hands belonged to, your mouth fell agape as you gasped,

“peter?”

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aspiringhorrorauthor · 3 years

Note

hello, PLEASE tell me your aroace analysis of the black parade album, i would like to see it 👀👀

What up guys, I just passed a vet med practice exam and I’m aroace and emo as fuck so let’s do this

First off, I will preface that I know that this wasn’t quite MCR’s idea of the album, but art is interpretive and I will at every possible opportunity rub my grubby little aroace hands all over that shit. This is also gonna get long so here’s a read more

Okay so first off, let me just exclude the following songs from this interpretation simply because they are exactly as they appear: The End, Dead!, Welcome to the Black Parade, Sleep, Teenagers and Blood. I can’t find anything to really psychoanalyse in this regarding the aroace experience so much as they are about the emo experience. And also, as a heads up, I feel this may teter more into aromantic interpretation than asexual simply because that’s how I roll, baby.

Let’s start with ‘This Is How I Disappear’, there’s something in here that strikes me as ‘coming to terms with being aroace Very Badly’, that first onset of panic when you realise ‘oh crap, I’m not allo’. I didn’t have the ‘hell yeah no sexual/romantic attraction oh wait there’s a word for that?’ realisation often stated online, I was in a lot of denial, especially when I first started listening to this album.

The lines “And without you is how I disappear/and live my life alone forever now” really strikes this message to me. The gnawing sense of loneliness and isolation when you first realise that you’re not like everyone else, that ‘living a life alone’ is both what you want from life and dread, as an amatonormative society drills into every one of us that love and relationships is what makes us important in life, and without it we will simply disappear. The line hits home the pain of questioning, the horror of when you realise this is who you likely are before you can truly accept it. It’s not a pretty part of being aroace, it wasn’t for me, but it is an important one, and the lines always hit home to me in this era.

Added on to this is a sense of how we’re seen in media. Consider the line “Who walks among the famous living dead”. There’s a real push in amatonormativity that love and romance is what makes us human, what makes us alive, and without it, we’re not human. Therefore, by extension, the aromantic narrator is ‘not alive’ by these standards, nor is their community they’ve yet to find. This is also doubled down by the monster symbolism throughout the song; especially when I was younger, aromantic (and asexual) coded characters in media were always the bad guys, the monsters who could only be stopped by the unstoppable power of love; the narrator is lamenting how this part of themselves seems monstrous, evil to society, when really that isn’t true, and this evolves over the course of the album.

Let’s move on to The Sharpest Lives. This is less aroace specific, but it certainly seems like a downward spiral of the narrator, which carries on from the self-loathing of Disappear. There’s really only 1 line I want to talk about here: “Juliet loves the beat and the lust it commands/Drop the dagger and lather the blood on your hands, Romeo”. This is an obvious allusion to Romeo and Juliet, but it turns on its head the usual story of Romeo and Juliet being in love; Juliet doesn’t love Romeo, she just loves the beat, and Romeo is taking it too far. This speaks to another experience, not exclusive to aromantics, but definitely strongly felt in it, when someone misinterprets the relationship or your feelings and tries to push for romance when all you wanted was a good time. I had an awful experience of this myself, so I’m claiming this one for the aroaces.

(As an aside, I got into MCR around the same time we did Romeo and Juliet at school, so imagine little me, not knowing she’s aroace and sick to death of talking about romance at school and hearing this line. To say I lost my shit was an understatement. I ADORE that line.)

Next up is ‘I Don’t Love You’. I’ve talked about this one before on my blog, but this is the song that really gives it away to me that this album is very strongly catered towards aroaces. “But it’s a break up song!” No, it’s not, if you look at it from the correct angle. Also I’ve gone to further lengths with other break up songs so try me bitches (See: Love Drunk by Boys Like Girls being about disregarding amatonormativity rather than breaking up with someone. It’s so damn obvious too)

Here’s the short of it: I Don’t Love You is actually about falling out with a friend because you had entirely different ideas as to what it was you wanted from your relationship. The aro narrator wants it to remain friends; they’re happy with where they are, and doesn’t want it to change. The other ‘person’ in the song is alloromantic, and wants it to become a romantic relationship. The most important line for this is the most important line in the song: “When you go, would you even turn to say, I don’t love you like I did yesterday”. Let’s focus on the word choice here: ‘Like I did yesterday’. When allos talk about love, they talk about the amount; if this was about falling out of love, it would reflect that, that the other person in the song loves them less, not differently. The narrator is lamenting that their friend no longer loves them as a friend; the friend’s view of love has changed, they love them romantically, and less as a friend as a result, and the narrator’s insistence on remaining friends has highlighted this.

What’s more, I don’t think this is the first time the narrator has gone through this. Admittedly, I misheard one of the lines for years and I insist the line is “Another time was just another blow” but I’m not American so we don’t have dollars, and this is about me and my interpretation of the album so we’re in this ride together and I’m driving so lets do this. The song is very pained, you can hear it in Gerard’s voice, and there’s so little about the pain of losing a friend, especially when they wanted romance from you, that this song really speaks to.

What really gets me though is how the narrator is clearly still struggling with being aroace too. Let’s consider the line “Sometimes I cry so hard from pleading”. The narrator clearly isn’t at ease with their identity yet; maybe they wish they could keep their friend, but their placing their boundaries down, even though its costing a friend. These boundaries are important, and its important for our friends to respect them too. And listening to, and singing along to, this song really makes me proud for the narrator in a sort of self-love kind of way when you couldn’t love yourself.

Final matter on this song: the narrator still thinks of them as a friend, which is tearing the narrator apart. Yes, the line “Don’t ever think I’ll make you try to stay” might make you think differently, but I believe that’s the narrator setting their boundaries; they’re not going to become an item just to please their friend and make them stay. Instead lets look at “Better get out while you can”. The narrator sees that their different views on the relationship is incompatible, and suggests they ‘fall out’ before their friend gets too caught up, and the rejection pains them both even more.

Now for House of Wolves. Not a long to say on this one, but I see it as being about media and ace exclusionists. See, the song flips between another character seeing the narrator as an angel and as a sinner simultaneously; just as how the media depicts asexual/aromatic/aroace people as non-human, that our sexuality (or lack thereof) makes us incomplete (the sinner aspect), while exclusionists say that we must be loved by the same media (and by religion too) for being aspec (the angel aspect). The song flip flops between them very rapidly, a state of confusion that felt very poignant for me when I was questioning in the height of the ace discourse.

Okay Mama is just here not for interpretation but because my English teacher once told us to analyse songs for her to mark as revision for exams and she loves long songs and kept making us analyse them so I analysed Mama and handed that in and got an A*. So Mama said AroAce rights that day.

Disenchanted is another strange one, filled with lines that mean more to aroace interpretation than the song itself. It spoke to me most when I was on my year out, having failed to get into uni despite good grades, still struggling with coming to terms with being aromantic, and dealing with severe anxiety. All in all, it was a year of disenchantment. It’s a good song. So what about an aroace interpretation?

The main thing about the song seems to be pretending to be someone you’re not. And really, when talking with family who expect you to be allo, how can you be anything but? I was told in this time that ‘Girls only go to university to find a husband’, which is many levels of wrong, but that thought always sticks in my head with this song. Moreover, I always think of break up songs with the line “You’re just a sad song, with nothing to say”, because they ARE just sad songs with nothing to say; and yet we’re expected to love them, because it’s a universal experience. There’s never been nothing to them.

But really, the line “I spent my high school career spit on and shoved to agree, so I can watch all my heroes sell a car on TV” is what really spoke to me. You spend school years being told that these people are sexy, you’ll want romance one day, and you have to agree or we’ll bully you mercilessly for it. The kids at school knew who was aroace before they knew what aroace meant. And we grow up watching heroes we relate to on TV, the fantastic loners who don’t need a significant other, only for fandom and the shows themselves to pair them up, make them “sell cars on tv” and sell out what made them special to us. And it hurts. And this song reflects that so well. In this song, the narrator is reflecting back on the years lost by hating themselves, slowly coming to terms with being aroace.

And finally, Famous Last Words. This is the real tipping point where the narrator feels comfortable with themselves, and finally confronts the friend from ‘I Don’t Love You’. The song is sung by one person, yes, but it feels like a dialogue between the friend, who still wants to hold a romantic relationship with the narrator, and the narrator who’s finally had enough. The introduction is from the friend, their thoughts on the narrator and how they know that they’re not going to win, but maybe they can make them feel bad for it “But where’s your heart?”, the friend is accusing the narrator of being heartless for being aromantic. But here’s the thing:

The narrator’s accepted who they are. “Well is it hard understanding? I’m incomplete.” The narrator accepts that they’re aroace, that to the friend, they are different, they don’t experience romance. The pain that they felt in the first few songs, of being the living dead and disappearing, makes them feel incomplete still, but they’re finally secure with being aroace enough to declare that, while they aren’t fully there yet, “I am not afraid to walk this world alone.” The narrator knows who they are, and they’re no longer afraid of it. Even when the friend tries to backpedal “Honey if you stay I’ll be forgiving” the narrator knows that the friend isn’t worth the pain anymore “Nothing you can say can stop me going home.”

That’s also why the lines about ‘love’ in this song are so important too. “A love that’s so demanding I can’t speak” “A love that’s so demanding, I get weak”. The narrator is explaining that, for them, romance is demanding; it’s not easy, and it’s not worth it for them, it’ll tire them out. The first quote can also speak of their friendship now; it’s so demanding, the narrator feels that if they stay, they may not be able to speak up for themselves any more. They have to friend break up, for both of their wellbeings.

And finally, the last verses “Awake and unafraid, asleep or dead” is the final attempt at kicking the narrator, harking back to “the famous living dead”. But the narrator refutes it by insisting that they’re not afraid to be alone anymore. And the song ends with the narrator winning, leaving the friend for good, for a better life.

And that’s the aroace interpretation of Black Parade.

And it’s 2200 words long fuck

#my chemical romance #the black parade #aroace #aromantic #asexual #You should've asked me why I can headcannon every video game character as aroace instead its shorter #Well all except the sims 2

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new-endings · 4 years

Text

you wear white and i'll wear out the words ‘i love you’

( in which crowley struggles to find the right time and place to propose)

He’d known Aziraphale’s ring size since Rome, though the need for this knowledge wouldn’t arise until millennia later. Far better than tossing apples at him centuries prior, which Crowley was sure wouldn’t have been well-received by the angel.

He had the ring itself since the tradition was popularized and changed the stone, the metal, and the inscriptions at least twice every decade. He’d known Aziraphale’s favorite flavor of cake, the very swoons and swells of romantic melodies that made his angel’s heart sing with joy and float with love. He’d known that Aziraphale had long wanted to travel East since before its industrialization, though London remained his home and heart, and, not long after the entire mess of the Armageddon’t—

Crowley knew, with absolute certainty, that Aziraphale loved him, loved earth, and loved their life together.

And Crowley, with absolute certainty, wanted a life together with Aziraphale.

The thought had been lurking in the darkest crevices of his heart, ashen and burnt, where most secrets seeped in its cracks. Of course he’d known he loved Aziraphale—he’d known his own heart since Rome. But the very possibility of having that love actualized—much less returned—had been such a preposterous, laughable, impossible thought that…

To even wonder, to even wish, would have wrought him nothing but pain.

But that was something that Crowley couldn’t help. When the wretched emotion had made itself known, had seeded and rooted itself deeply within Crowley’s heart, there was no going back. And now, many millennia later, it was no longer just the torturous squeeze of thorns driving deep into Crowley’s chest at the thought of a life with Aziraphale—

It was waking to the sight of his angel (yes, his) in his ridiculous nightgown and equally ridiculous little glasses perched on his adorable nose as he flipped through the pages of a love-worn novel in Crowley’s bed; it was meeting for lunch without his angel ducking at the sight of every American in a gray, luxurious business suit; it was being able to hold his angel’s hand as they strolled through St. James park to feed the ducks, recycling old banters and trying new, honest conversations (“I thought you looked rather ravishing in that fancy little petticoat of yours. Still not a good idea to wear it during a revolution, though.” “Oh, thank you dear. I rather thought you—you—good lord, your hair back then reminded me of two somersaulting weasels.” “You really are a bastard, aren’t you?” “I’ve learned from the very best, I’ll have you know.”); it was kissing him good morning, hello, be right back, and goodnight.

It was a possibility. A very, very real possibility.

Now…now all Crowley had to do was ask.

---

Crowley prided himself in his brilliance. It wasn’t just the Pride either—he knew he had more creativity that likely all the forces of Hell combined—

(still didn’t hold a candle to Aziraphale’s wit when his angel set his mind on something, but that’s a discussion for another time.)

Which was why he had every bit of confidence that when he enacted his master plan, it would surely sweep his angel off his feet.

…Granted, if he had a master plan to begin with.

Because lo and behold, Crowley, who had been squirreling his angel’s preferences and tastes, ring size, suit size, shoe size—never actually thought he’d be able to use this information in the most important way possible. And thus—

He was scrambling.

He threw idea after idea out—We could go to Rome; take him out on our first date again—wait, did he even know that was our first date?, forged bloody mood boards from digital inspiration on social media—Ugh, this all looks terribly tasteless. This looks nice, but I know for a fact that Aziraphale hasn’t gone swimming since the 1800s for some incident or other—and nearly broke down and ran to the bookshop to propose right then and there just to get it over with.

But no.

His angel deserved better than that.

“We could have a picnic…dinner at the Ritz,” Crowley mocked, turning over in despair. “Go—Sata—SOMEONE-DAMNIT. Why didn’t I propose then…It would have been perfect.” He let out another groan. “Right, right, great thinking there, Crowley—just drop the proposal to your best friend after he was cut off and nearly killed by his abusive family and workplace, real romantic.”

He sighed, peeling himself off the ceiling where he’d somehow ended up. It was getting late and damnit, he promised to take Aziraphale to that play tonight, didn’t he?

Crowley, once upright, glared hard at the ring on his desk. It had been taunting him for the past month and he knew the niggling thoughts at the back of his mind, the compulsion to open it up, scrutinize it, to once again deem it worthy enough for his angel, wouldn’t let up until he saw it where it belonged: on his angel’s marriage hand.

Crowley snatched the box and, with some difficulty, pocketed it.

(He was actually surprised these pants came with pockets.)

Fine. If inspiration won’t come to him, then he’ll come to inspiration. Humans always went on and on about knowing when the time was right or what have you. Sure, it might be more…spontaneous than he’d like…

(Crowley liked plans. Plans kept him and his angel alive since the dawn of their arrangement, even when they didn’t always pan out the way he wanted them to)

But, as his angel showed him back at the airbase, sometimes a little spontaneity was just what he needed to get the job done.

He could have proposed at the theater. Hamlet had been Aziraphale’s favorite because Crowley made it into a smashing success just for him. It would have been romantic— a reminder that there wasn’t anything Crowley wouldn’t do to make him happy. But instead, he just watched on with half-amusement, half-embarrassment as his angel cheered and encouraged the actors, rather loudly, from their seats.

(“Angel, darling, love of my life, you’re going to get us kicked out if you keep that up.” “I-I’m the love of your life?” “Obviously, but also, not the point.”)

He could have proposed at their bench at St. James Park: right where they used to meet in secret and business and thinly veiled ventures to simply be in each other’s company—a reminder of how far they’ve come and a promise for what’s to come. But instead, they just fed the ducks, Crowley listening on with not-so-silent affection as Aziraphale berated himself for feeding them bread for years when it turned out it had been bad for them all along.

(“I brought peas this time!” “Angel, I’m sure the ducks would have appreciated any old thing.” “Yes, well, I still want it to be good for them, Crowley.” “All right, fair enough.”)

He could have proposed at the Ritz, gotten them a nice hotel room to ah…freshen up (after making a mess out of each other), enjoyed their meal and basked in the romantic atmosphere— a reminder of the first day of the rest of their lives after freeing one another and paving a road ahead where they could be together, belong together at last. He could have even put the ring in his angel’s dessert—if the ring made it out intact. But instead, Crowley dined and wined with the most perfect being (for him) created in all this universe, and basked in that lovely, perfect moment, all worries, anxieties—and the ring—forgotten.

(“I love you, Crowley.” “I…I…oh—fuck—” “It’s all right, Crowley…” “I just…sometimes…” “It’s okay, love…” “I’ve wanted to hear you for so long—” “You’ll hear me every day, Crowley.” “Angel, I love you, I’ve been in love with you for—forever, it feels like.” “I know, Crowley. I know…and I’m ready to hear it now.”)

He could have proposed in so many different places, so many different times, and in so many different ways—all romantic, all with grand, sweeping gestures, and all matter of symbolism and meaning behind each instance.

And yet, the primordial, primitive, snake-brain of his—decided that now would be the time.

“Ah—ah—angel, angel,” Crowley gasped, writhing against the delicious friction as Aziraphale maddeningly teased his Effort from within the constricting confines of his trousers.

“Yes, dearest?” he smiled, looking quite at home on his knees on the Persian rug of the bookshop’s backroom.

“You right bastard—ah!” Crowley choked off a scream as Aziraphale mouthed his clothed cock, warm, wet heat so close yet so far from where he needed it most. He fruitlessly attempted to shimmy out of his jeans, buck into that lovely, inviting mouth, and give his angel a taste of what happens when you press a demon’s buttons in all the right ways.

“I know virtues aren’t your specialty, Crowley, but you really should have some patience,” his angel tsk’d, eyes gleaming with mischief and Crowley fell impossibly deeper in love with this incorrigible, chaotic ethereal being.

And that. That was exactly what his snake-brain was waiting for. “Oh, fuck angel—marry me—”

Then that heat was gone. It took maybe a second or two for the words that had just tumbled straight out of his mouth to register, but before Crowley could internally agonize in horror at his abso-fucking-lutely shite timing—

“I—I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

And what was Crowley supposed to do? Back out? Deny he said anything? Nope, not this time, not on his life.

Not anymore.

“Marry me,” he wheezed out, the embarrassment not quite catching up to him as he miracled the box to his hand (and thusly relieving some of that extra pressure in his trousers), and presented it to Aziraphale with all the grace of a boneless octopus.

(wait, octopodes don’t have bones do they?)

Best case scenario, Aziraphale disregarded the fact that Crowley just popped the question right before a well-anticipated blowjob. Worst-case scenario, he would have berated the demon for the abso-fucking-lutely shite timing. But instead, he was met with: "So," Aziraphale started, brows furrowed with confusion from between Crowley's legs. "That bulge in your pants doesn't just mean you're happy to see me?"

“Angel,” Crowley sighed, valiantly attempting to keep calm despite the gnawing anxiety at his chest; great, the gears were still turning in his angel’s pretty little head from the shock. “You know I’m always happy to see you on your knees for me, but I believe I asked you a question.” He waved the box in front of him and then it all clicked into place.

Crowley could tell by the bright sparkle in those sea-storm eyes and the sweet, bashful smile on his lips. “Then shouldn’t you be the one on your knees? Or—one, rather, I think is the human way of doing it now.”

“Oh, right,” Crowley muttered, wobbling as he stood from his favorite couch in all of Aziraphale’s shop. As tradition dictated, Crowley got down on one knee, opened his mouth to say, “Aziraphale, will you—”

And was immediately met with, “Yes!”

Crowley tumbled backwards onto the couch, and armful and lapful of his ecstatic angel, and finally engaged.

“Oh…it’s so lovely, Crowley,” Aziraphale cooed, holding up the ring to the light.

Crowley hummed, lacing their fingers together, and— yes he was right all along, he should have never doubted his tastes to begin with.

The ring was perfect on his angel.

“I love you, Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured, pressing soft kisses to his cheeks, dimples, and chin, and if the rest of their lives could be even just a fraction of how perfect this moment was, Crowley, for the first time in a long time, was looking forward to eternity.

“Even if you did propose right before I was to initiate fellatio,” Aziraphale giggled.

Crowley sighed, feigning annoyance despite the way his heart (not quite-so-ashen, and not-quite-so burnt) thudded painfully with love. “You could not have said that any worse.” He pulled Aziraphale close, smothering the giggles at his expense with a tender, loving kiss. He drew back, smirking at the lovestruck look on his angel’s face, plain as day, unguarded and open for Crowley to see. “Besides, could you have done any better?”

“Well, I certainly could,” he teased.

Crowley raised a brow, a challenging smile on his lips. “Oh really, now? C’mon then, let’s hear it.”

“All right, then!” His angel cleared his throat. “I would have, for one, proposed on October 21st—”

“Day the Earth was created, not bad,” Crowley admitted.

“And on that day, asked you to come away with me to a little trip—”

“Ooh, going on a little trip, are we?” The demon chuckled. “Where to? Tadfield? France? Rome?—”

“The Garden.”

Crowley felt his breath catch in his throat. Aziraphale gave him a small, triumphant smile, and continued. “Of course I still have access to it, dear. I was one of its guardians after all.” His angel admired the ring once more, voice soft as he continued, “I would have brought a picnic of course, and suggested, if you hadn’t already—”

“To have it on the wall,” Crowley whispered. “Where we first met.”

“Where our journey began,” Aziraphale added. “And I would have—I would have let you know that never in my wildest dreams would I have thought, back then, up there on that wall, that I would have found…the person that my heart belongs to.” He looked back at Crowley, eyes wet and smile wobbling on his sweet mouth and Crowley wanted to just take this lovely, lovely being in his arms and never let go. “And that through this long, long journey since Earth began, I’m ever-grateful that all my roads lead back to you.”

“Angel…”

“And then, I would get down on one knee and ask you,” he turned to face Crowley, a tear or two slipping down his cheeks, “Oh? My what’s that in your ear?”

Crowley furrowed his brow. “Wha—oh, no, angel, not one of your—”

“Ooooh, what’s this?” But before Crowley could swap his hand out of his way, something bright, gleaming, and poorly concealed in his angel’s hand caught his eye.

Any and all teasing of his fiancé’s failed sleight of hand fled Crowley’s mouth at the sight of the gold band between his fingers. He must have looked quite the sight, gaping mouth and nothing coming out, but Aziraphale only chuckled.

“You always did go faster than me, Crowley,” he murmured, placing the band right on his demon’s marriage finger, smiling at the perfect fit it made. “But that’s all right.” He pressed a soft, gentle kiss to his fiancé’s lips. “All my roads lead to you, after all.”

#ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale

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wincore · 3 years

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AGREEEE, WORKING OVER THE WEEKEND IS THE WORST esp since im in uni full time and i work 9-5 on the weekends which means... no breaks for me ever.. 🥲

MASSIVE CRUSH ON OIKAWA OMGGG I SUPPORT THIS!!!!! but i am unfortunately much older than 15 and still enamored by 2d men 😔 life’s rough like that HDJWKDJ YES ATSUMU CAUSES PROBLEMS ON PURPOSE.. HES THE WORST!! btw.. ive heard that the oikawa to atsumu stan pipeline is very real... so if u get to s4.. u may develop atsumu brain rot like me 👁_👁

OOO alright run on, extracurricular, vincenzo, true beauty, love alarm, & perfect crime. NOTED!! ive actually been meaning to watch extracurricular for a while now, it looks so interesting!! now that it has the wincore seal of approval i must watch 😤 OMGG SAKURADA DORI I SAW HIM IN ALICE IN BORDERLAND!! super good show but really gore heavy at some points 👁

ahh ok thank u for the reccs, ive been thinking about starting demon slayer too!! shoplifters sounds really interesting :oo crime??? i havent watched a full movie in a while so i will def check it out!! THESE R ALL GOING IN MY NOTES APP.

NEXT YEARRR omg it sounds far away but i know time passes so quickly nowadays so I WILL WISH U LUCK ONCE AGAIN 💛 i hope u update us when the time comes!!

UGHWHHD EVEN THIS SYNOPSIS IS MAKING ME MISS UR WRITING?!? I LOVE THE WAY U WORD IT... “given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear” AHHHHHHH omg “he’s in a relationship and doesn’t rlly care about the soulmate system” THIS IS ALWAYS SUCH A PAINFUL SCENARIO IN SOULMATE AUS PLSS!!! Wait is the soulmate of yn gonna be an oc/vague character or another member :O EITHER WAY... PAIN! THIS IS GETTING ME SO EXCITED AND U HAVENT EVEN MENTIONED ANYTHING ABOUT WHAT JAEHYUN’S LIKE IN THIS FIC YET

RUNWAY CHARACTER CAMEOOOS YESS I LOVE RUNWAY YN!!!! i actually reread it last night and ugh i was reminded how much i love yns personality... just the process of experiencing all tht self doubt with them!!! so real & makes u root for them :’)

“if jeno plays edward i need him to that apple scene like taemin did” WHHHHHWJDJJWJDBW THIS MADE ME CHOKE ON THE WATER I WAS DRINKING LMFAO

GODDDD THESE TROPE/MEMBER PAIRINGS, HARD AGREE HARD AGREE!!! HAECHAN AND RENJUN ARE E2L 100%!!!! i think bc the ppl in the bff2l category cant convincingly hate yn back LOL

“gets complimented on his lyricism often but like every song’s about you” STOPPPPP HES SO PERFDCT FOR THIS TROPE!!!!!

OMG I SEE EXACTLY WHAT U MEAN ABT SICHENG IN ROYALTY/CHAEBOL AUS... i think like u said it’s because of his poise & the way ppl are generally in awe of him but also bc of his reluctance to open up!! more reserved until he trusts u... funny and kind but sometimes perceived as aloof... those r some prince tendencies! “what are corporate businesses but modern day kingdoms” LMFAOOWJDJ SERIOUSLY THO

“mans really said i will not give you any onscreen idol personality to work with” HDJWJDJWJSJ LITERALLYYYY this is why i have trouble reading jaehyun fics sometimes bc sometimes they can feel “inaccurate” but its mostly just bc there’s no Standard Personality Stereotype to go off of. but a random & uncommon trope i think he’d pair well with is exes to lovers!! Yes im basically just a jaehyun + angst advocate.

“i think most of them would pair well with bff2l??” FACTTTTTTT and no im not just saying this bc its one of my favorite tropes.. heh... i think i told u this before?? but ur like the main reason i started enjoying e2l!!! i didnt like it before bc i love the PINING in bff2l but then i started reading ur works n was like OH SHIT! THERES LOADS OF PINING HERE TOO...

i think yangyang is not bff2l or e2l, he is in his own category which is Annoyer2Lover HDJWKDJ ex: troublemaker, wasted nights

OMGGGG I DID NOT EXPECT ROYALTY AU TO HAVE SUCH A LARGE LEAD IN THE SURVEY??? and cryptids is so low 😔😔 cmon guys, vampires r fun!!!

WE R LITERALLY WRITING ESSAYS TO EACH OTHER RN BUT I LOVE IT 🥺🥺 its a such a nice break to read ur response when im burnt out from studying!!

OMG IM GOING THROUGH #moonwrites AND IM LITERALLY AN IDIOTTTT IVE BEEN OFF TUMBLR FOR SO LONG I DIDNT REALIZE THAT ROMEO ROULETTE HAD A PREVIEW OUT????

“And I get what out of this?” “Me?” IM IN LOVE WITH THIS CHARACTERS PERSONALITY ALREADY LMFAOO

“—and when this whole game you’re playing is over, you’re going to say I rejected you.” ?!?!???? THE WAY JAEHYUN IS A LITTLE SHIT! THEIR PERSONALITIES ARE BOTH SO FUN PLSJWJDJEJ IM MORE EXCITED NOW!!

pls disregard the part in my last ask where i asked abt romeo roulette.... i had no idea all of the information i needed was sitting right in front of me 😔😔

- tata

WHAT 9 TO 5 ON EVERY WEEKEND???? the system has failed you this honestly feels like a villain origin story 😭 when does it get better???

ALSO let me answer the other asks separately for better readability lol we really out here writing essays GOOD THING i have practice writing but like. this is infinitely better to write 🥰

PLSSS SOMETIMES I WILL SEE AN EDIT/TIKTOK OF OIKAWA AND BE LIKE DAMN I REALLY NEED TO CATCH UP I MISS THIS MF also are you daring me to ruin my life for 2d men bc i will do it without hesitation. wait till i watch hq again and get that atsumu brainrot with you he seems annoying enough for me to like ^_^

AND YES PLS I WAS SO ABSORBED IN IT!! extracurricular was the most gripping show i’ve watched in a while like yes enough teen romance give me two unhinged teenagers doing crime 🤩 AND OMG??? THAT’S WHERE WE SAW HIM TOO and although niragi was literally vomit-inducing human trash, sakurada dori is like. a good actor. except i hated coffee&vanilla which starred him it was literally so cringe i couldn’t 😭 i blame the writers for that though. IM EXCITED FOR S2 OF ALICE IN BORDERLAND THO i really like horror (and i can tolerate gore if ive been desensitized enough) and like i read the manga too!!! the games were really interesting (although morbid).

😭😭 MY NOTES APP IS FULL OF RECS FROM FRIENDS ALL OF THEM HATE ME FOR NOT WATCHING THE SHOWS BUT LIKE. i binge 3 or 4 at a time and strike them off and then go 6 months without watching a single tv series hhh.

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I SURE WILL UPDATE !!! it’s so exciting to think about grad school sometimes :33

AHHH IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT AND THE PREVIEW TOO SGSDJKDS there’s a few differences in the actual fic i think bc i changed up the language (and i dont remember what else bc i refuse to look at my writing) JAEHYUN RLLY IS A LITTLE SHIT he’ll be like hm yeah im pretty chill :) and then proceed to beat yn at her own game at times. (she wins mostly dw) the fact that i made her soulmate cha eunwoo like girl if i were you i’d crash their relationship 🥱 (jk) but like. jaehyun too is 🤩 despite being dry af

ASDKDSKDS YOU REREAD ALL (ALMOST) 19K WORDS ??? IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE THAT FIC SM AAAAHHH IM FEELING LIKE AN ACTUAL AUTHOR 🥰 i loved runway yn too they were like boss attitude with 20% anxiety.

LOOK JENO BETTER BE PULLING MOVES LIKE THAT TO IMPRESS THE GIRLS 😤 if he hits himself in the forehead with the apple, bonus points bc that was true comedy (as invented by taemin)

AND YES. LIKE I KNOW MARK HATED DONGHYUCK SO MUCH HE WANTED TO LEAVE SM BUT LIKE HE’S TOO NICE WITH EVERYONE ELSE 😭😭😭 i cannot picture him pissed off apart from that summer fight </3

thinking about dejun getting rejected by a girl he wrote a song for. rip brother.

IM GLAD YOU PUT THAT INTO WORDS BC THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT IT IS!!! he’s got all of these regal qualities but he’s still human ykyk so it makes for the most amiable person on earth 😌 i love this characterization of him!!

oof exes to lovers with jaehyun... i had a similar idea a while ago (with theme song sincerity is scary by the 1975) that i discarded bc i don’t think i’m cut out to write that 😭 (YET) so i will keep this is mind. u r so right about jaehyun feeling inaccurate bc it’s like he’s very mild in personality onscreen sometimes?? so him having strong personality traits makes me go 🤔🤔 that man is overreacting. (jkjk but like you get the idea)

WAIT RLLY OMG BC OF ME???? i would never enjoy e2l irl bc irl dudes are 🤢🤢 and if they annoy me i will end them. but in fiction the mutual pining and initial disgust at yourself for liking the other??? helllooo 🤩🤩🤩 especially if it’s in a romcom style <3 bff2l is also better in fiction bc if the relationship doesnt work out irl and the person become uncomfortable with me i will just get annoyed jskshdl

LMAO YOU ARE SO RIGHT ABOUT YANGYANG HE’S JUST THAT™ DUDE skgkhs he feels like someone fun to hang out with but he would annoy you the whole time. also he is cute 🥰

AND EXACTLY!!!! IM HAPPY FOR ROYALTY AUS BUT CMON. LOOK AT THOSE VAMPIRE TEETH. feel like media ruined vampires for people 😔

THIS IS SUCH A NICE BREAK FROM STUDYING HONESTLY!!!! im like working on two semi-large projects AND studying course and out-of-course material simultaneously so my brain is a little fried. thank u for this 😘

#tata 💖#anon #answered

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crapitskizaru · 5 years

Text

My Pirate. (Eustass Kid x Reader)

Warning: filth, lil bit of weird roleplay, slight descriptions of gore scenes in a horror movie

Word Count: 1,9k

The darkness of the Halloween night behind the window would have been disturbing if it wasn’t for the close warmth beside you and a strong arm wrapped around your shoulders.

Even if someone with ill intentions wanted to give you a scare, they would fail miserably - there was simply nothing scarier than the man you were currently cuddling with. You silently wondered if there was a safer place on Earth than the one you were in - his protective embrace.

“What a coward,” your boyfriend snarled. “You gotta find a weapon and fight. I wouldn’t ever run away, you know?”

“Oh, I know.” You moved your focus back to the screen. “But I think any murderer would rather be the one running away. You’re simply too scary to handle.”

His grimace turned into a smirk as he whispered into your ear. “But you can handle me.”

The voice he gave you was flirtatious and bluntly hinting at what it was that he wanted. But it didn’t take you by surprise, he was always like this. And so the TV screen consumed your attention once more.

The main protagonists in the movie were, to put it lightly, having a hard time. There were screams and jumpscares involved every few seconds, the unsettling music seemingly running down your veins with each turn of the camera and each location the murderer appeared in.

It didn’t bother your boyfriend at all. He laughed at the scene where teeth were brutally snatched out from one of the main character’s gums, he cheered the murderer on during their numerous attempt on skinning their victim alive.

In his amazing costume that resembled both a pirate and a New Romantic fashion, it felt as if Kid was born for Halloween. Ever since you’d gotten into a relationship, you always spent the night with him - and he always made sure to make it a memorable experience.

A moment of suspense from the sudden, lingering silence on-screen was abruptly cut off by a faint sound of a text message.

“It’s Killer,” Kid muttered, mindlessly scanning his phone. “Says he’ll be at least an hour late.”

“Mmmh...” Your casual stretch not going unnoticed by your boyfriend as he scooped you closer. “That’s good, actually. We’ll be able to finish the movie.”

“What movie?” His words were barely audible with how his lips were already in your neck, eagerly catching your skin.

“It tickles!” you laughed, grasping his hair. “Oh my God, at least wait until the movie ends-”

“What movie?” he repeated with a grin, huge body obscuring your vision of the screen as he moved to your mouth, massaging your tongue with his own.

He went from mildly interested in all the sophisticated torture methods and gore scenes to being as enthusiastically turned-on as possible in literal seconds, it was difficult to catch a breath.

Your body only reacting after a few moments spent near his warmth; your mind dizzy with agitation and slight anxiety, there was no time to gather your thoughts.

His lips were cold against yours, your body numb with too many sensations - your boyfriend’s hand on your thigh, his chest pressed up against yours, his licking tongue and his whole frame that you struggled to grasp in your embrace.

Your palms rubbed feverishly around the nape of his neck, only to slide down and come around toward his front, mouth reaching to keep up with the pace of the kiss.

“I wanna have sex so badly,”‌ he groaned, parting and exhaling against your ear. “We can fuck before Killer comes.”‌

To give yourself some time to think the response through, you caught his lips again and tried to calm your racing thoughts; all of them currently busy with telling you how hot Kid was and how you could spend the whole night just making out with him on the couch.

“Let me just-” you finally breathed out, touching your forehead to his. “-go to the bathroom real quick.”‌

“Don’t take too long. Else I’ll just start jacking off on my own and cum in five minutes.”‌

After cupping his face and giving him a teasing peck, your legs felt shaky when you went upstairs for some time for yourself. There was no denying the hungry pool in your stomach that just ached to be satisfied by your boyfriend.

The trip to the bathroom was indeed as quick as you could make it, as you found yourself in the bedroom - wondering just which toys to grab for this particular night.

Before you could as much as evaluate the possibilities, your gaze landed behind the window. The darkness had been replaced by faint light reflecting from the moon, revealing the busy streets; all around there were spooky decorations hanging from the roofs, covering the gardens and driveways, shining on the lamp posts.

There was a distant feeling of longing in your heart at the sight - the chilly October weather, the soon perspective of the New Year, the veil of the supernatural in the air, it all added to the chills that ran down your spine.

You couldn’t wait to go out with Kid and his friends onto the streets and relish in the eerie atmosphere while admiring the costumes of passing-by strangers, all while taking attempts to frighten one another with scary stories.

“Changed your mind?”‌

Your heart skipped a beat, your face and chest heating up in surprise. There he was, his tall figure standing in the doorway.

“Hm?‌‌ Sorry, got a little…lost in thought,”‌ you smiled as he walked closer, his arms enveloping you from behind. “Just look, isn’t the night magical?”‌

“It is,”‌ he hummed. “But not magical enough to leave me hanging for so long.”‌

“Didn’t you say you would start jerking off on your own?”‌

“I’d rather you did it.”‌ He gave you a smirk. “Besides, I‌ had to check on you. What if I was a vicious pirate? What would you do?”‌

His tone was getting more teasing as he sent a few licks down your neck, the previous hunger and impatience seemingly lost. You had to admit - imagining your boyfriend as a pirate was as ridiculous as it was exciting, making the arousal in your gut heat up once more.

“You?‌ A vicious pirate?‌‌ You’re far too soft for that,”‌ you cooed and flushed your back against his chest harder. “You wouldn’t harm an innocent being. And I, sir, am as innocent as a human can get.”‌

“And the fact that all of our sex toys are displayed on the bed‌ is supposed to be the proof of that?‌‌”‌

You tried to hide the embarrassment by reaching up and tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling his face into your neck once again.

He just chuckled. “Very innocent, indeed.”‌

“Even if you were a pirate…I’d have captivated you with my natural charm,”‌ you muttered while pressing your butt against his groin. “And took it from there.”‌

His satisfied grunt was followed by the harsh dig of his nails into your hipbones, hands already moving to get rid of the costume you had on.

“What if I was very vicious?”‌‌ One movement exposed your skin to the chilly air of the room that was soon forgotten when his warm palms kneaded your butt. “Vicious and cruel. And savage.”‌‌ He accented the last word with a harsh bite to your neck.

You couldn’t stifle the moan that was breathed out as soon as you rest your head back against his shoulder.

“I‌ would have begged that pirate.”‌‌ Your body responded to your needs faster than you’d have imagined as it rubbed along your boyfriend’s in a needy manner. “I‌ would have begged and pleaded for him to take me.”‌

“And if that pirate would make you scream your name?‌ Would you still want him?”‌

“Yes,”‌ you whispered, closing your eyes and heightening the sensations of his warm body near yours, his hands roaming around your chest, lips taking care of your neck. “Yes. Please.”‌

You could feel him rubbing against your backside, the slow rolls of his hips so distant to his usual manner. The window in front of you acted as nothing else than a way for you to support yourself as the weight behind you suddenly disappeared, only to come back to you after a few seconds.

Kid poured the lube into his hand, pants already down to his ankles, the slicky sound of it being spread along his cock cutting through the silent, dark room and digging deep into your gut in anticipation.

You rested your hands against the windowpane, spreading your legs open as if to offer yourself up to him completely.

His name was whispered when one of your hands got ahold of his hair again, your mouth catching the corner of his lips but soon flying open when you felt him pushing himself inside of you.

Hips snapping against your skin, he set the pace as rough but oddly slow, his breath on your ear.

“That’s not very vicious,”‌ you hummed, resting your forehead on the window glass. This time your senses were far too distracted to pay attention to the lovely sight of the Halloween night.

“You just wait.”‌

You felt his length poking and rubbing inside, the pleasure already starting to wake in your gut. His fingers dove forward to stroke your thighs and in between them - wherever he reached, your legs seemed to give out and start to tremble from the amount of stimulation.

His warm skin touching yours kept on sending sparks up and down your spine, and his words - those being whispered and mumbled so intimately - made you feel like you two were the only people in the universe, right at that moment.

You tried to lean on the window to prevent yourself from sliding down, but there was hardly any strength left in your body. The matter being quickly disregarded when your boyfriend hoisted you up and pushed himself even deeper.

He grunted with pleasure. “I‌ fucking love how you feel around me.”‌

His thrusts began to slide harder inside, his pace even - the friction and delicious sensation of being filled started to set your whole body aflame until its burst was laying within your reach.

“I‌ love you,”‌ the whisper stumbled from your lips before you could stop it, but you were too lost in Kid’s presence to care. “I‌ love you.‌”

“‌I know,‌” he smirked, his cock rolling into your inside relentlessly and drawing a sharp breath each time. “Who wouldn’t?”‌

The teasing tone earned him a quick bite on the lip as you pulled him into a kiss, it being the last impulse you needed to gasp his name out loud and reach your high.

You fell forward against the window, worn out and still shaken by the roaming pleasure between your legs. Your boyfriend was also near his release, as he suddenly pulled out and came on your back with a breathless groan. “Oh, fuck!”

His body was soon slumped over yours, his heavy breath heating up your skin even more. You felt a soft kiss on the back of your neck.

“I would do anything for you.‌ You little shit.”‌

“I know,”‌ you laughed weakly and turned around to face him, finally able to give him a proper kiss. “‌Who wouldn’t?”‌

#eustass kid #one piece #dinofilth #one piece scenario #eustass kid x reader #one piece imagines #one piece imagine #op scenario #op imagine #op imagines #killer #halloween

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omfgtrump · 3 years

Text

The Don Gets The Boot

FUCK YEAH!!!

ABOUT TIME!!!

Americans have voted in the first female Vice President. A mixed race Black Indian whose mother was an immigrant. Now that’s the idea of America!!!

Yes, The Don gets the boot, but how many Republicans will remain boot-lickers? Seems like Lindsey Graham has his tongue stuck to the bottom of The Don’s shoe. Congratulations Lindsey, in a unanimous vote, you win the “Sycophant of the Decade Award.”

Mittens Romney, whose occasional expression of dismay over The Don’s actions, took off the Mittens and took The Don to task. But honestly, I’m tired of hearing that Mittens shows courage and independence. Crawling out of your bunker every few months to venture your dissent only to slink back in to hiding leaves me cold. Where is your voice on The Don’s atrocious handling of the pandemic? Umm, thought so. I guess that makes sense, as you are the one who thought it was okay to tie your dog, like a piece of luggage, to the top of the car, and believed he was having fun. That takes a lot of denial and wishful thinking.

Many are shocked that The Don decided to tell the American people that he won before all the votes were counted. Really?

Let’s examine the reasons why he thought won.

It was unfair that pollsters were counting votes after election day, even though the ballots were cast before or on election day.

He didn’t understand that you can’t choose which states to count votes.

He didn’t think it was legal for people from rat-infested cities like Baltimore to vote. So unfair, so unfair.

There are so many more Red states then Blue ones. If he has more Red M&M’s than blue ones, red wins, right?

Millions of people dressed up as other people and voted twice. The Don said: We have evidence of this. A detailed report will be coming out soon. QAnon is working on it as I speak.

Putin promised me that I would win.

There is evidence that at least 5 million dead people voted, and since Joe Biden is practically dead, they felt closer to him and voted for him. You’ve seen the “Walking Dead,” that stuff is real.

Most importantly: I never lose, so this is all fake news.

Frankly, anyone who understands The Don’s pathology, his malignant narcissism, could have written his ludicrous rant. Translated, it goes: I am The Don, I control the world; if it doesn’t go the way I render it, there is something wrong with the world as there is never anything wrong with me. That’s why I win, win, win; and never lose.

His response to the results of the election are identical to his response to the pandemic. “This can’t be happening because I didn’t deem it to be.” Once again we witness The Don’s delusional process at work, hoping if he repeats over and over that the election is illegal, rigged, a fraud, a conspiracy against the greatest president who ever lived; and that it is he, who is democracy greatest defender.

The next 74 days will be like no other transition of power in this country. Anyone believing The Don will go lightly into the night is living in their own alternative reality. Everything he has done and said before tells us that he will do whatever he can to burn the house down. The chances that he can accept defeat graciously are zero! It is not in his DNA. The Don’s entire life is predicated on destroying others in order to avoid losing: losing exposes his underlying smallness and the humiliation it brings is intolerable. He will do anything and say anything to twist reality so he doesn’t have to experience this. Up until this point in his life, he has miraculously escaped every situation that could have confronted him with his true self. He will never accept defeat and when he eventually leaves the White House (willingly?) to start Trump TV, he will turn his rage toward Joe Biden, just like he did to Barack Obama. He will continue to be a force in politics and continue to stoke fear and resentment and seek revenge on those who have usurped his power because that is the only way he can protect himself from connecting to his smallness. The good news is that those of us who do not want to ever hear from him again won’t have to because he no longer will be president. However, his desire to remain relevant to his supporters will make him a real force in Republican politics and he will have no qualms inciting people to violence. Maybe his first guest will be Steve Bannon, who recently called for the beheading of Anthony Fauci and FBI Director Christopher Wray.

Yes, The Don has lost; and the country, for a few moments, can exhale. Millions took to the streets in celebration. Church bells rang out in Paris like they did after the Germans surrendered; in London, there were fireworks. The perpetual state of anxiety that many Americans were thrust into for four years has been mitigated, though pharmaceutical companies are probably upset as profits may decline because fewer people will renew their prescriptions for anti-depressants and Xanax.

youtube

The Don made democracy fray at its seams, but the people pushed back. Democracy prevailed. Enough of us felt that another four years would catapult us into an autocracy. It is remarkable that nearly 150 million people voted during a pandemic.

It is also remarkable that 70 million people voted for a man who separated children from their parents, supported White Supremacists, banned Muslims, called Mexicans rapists, is a vowed sexual predator (Access Hollywood tape), was impeached (remember that), is in Putin’s pocket and did nothing when he was given high level intelligence information that Russia paid bounties to the Taliban to kill Americans, paid no taxes, covered for the Saudi Prince who murdered a Washington Post reporter and attacked science promulgating an alternative reality (with the heinous silence and collusion of Republicans) that the coronavirus is about to take a hike, when we are being ravaged and setting records for infections with 1,000 people dying every day.

Experts are saying that by the time Biden takes the reigns that there could more than 200,000 cases a day and increasing death tolls. It didn’t have to be that way, and the task before Biden and Kamala is enormous. Long after The Don is gone, our country will be paying the price for his incompetence, indecency, and heinous disregard for human life. Rather than being closer to a point where would are containing the spread, we are heading in to a very dark winter that will take a much longer time to come out of. The economic costs will be graver than necessary and tens of millions of people will continue to struggle with existential issues of food and housing insecurity. As for The Don, he will seek refuge cheating at golf and not give one iota of thought to the suffering of the American people.

For people of color, members of the LGBQT community, Muslims, immigrants and other marginalized groups, there is relief that his malignant man has been banished and hope that Biden and Kamala Harris’s policies will embrace, protect and uplift them. But these communities also see the numbers of Americans who voted for a vengeful, carnival barker who has deceived them into believing he is speaking for them, that he cares about them. Despite all they have seen and heard, his capacity to stoke fear, resentment and divisiveness allowed them to cast their ballot for a White Supremacist, a man totally void of empathy and morality. What message does this communicate to these communities? What does this say about America and its capacity to move forward and embrace equity and inclusion?

It galls me when I hear pundits create moral equivalents between the Right and the Left’s extremism and the need for people to come together. I am all for coming together; this country will have a hard time surviving if we don’t. But the Right in this country (which at this point is the Republican Party) has been stoking racial animus, creating obstacles to voting, promulgating abhorrent and dangerous conspiracy theories, stoking violence by White Supremacists groups, and working against equity and inclusion for years. The violence at Charlottesville did not have good people on both sides. Torch-bearing White Supremacist and Nazi groups chanting anti-Semitic tropes are not the same as people fighting for racial and social justice. The oppressed fighting back is not the same as the oppressor asserting itself. Fighting for social justice shouldn’t even be a movement: it should just be. But as sobering as it is, this is America.

But America is also the place where a Black Indian Woman with an immigrant mother can become vice president. Let’s hope that that the part of us that could make that happen is the part that moves us forward during these challenging times.

P.S

I had planned to end this blog with the defeat of The Don, but given the way this transition is going to go down, I thought I would stick around and wait until he actually leaves the oval office and Biden is sworn in. Hold on to your seats!

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#IFTTT #WordPress #trump #politics #potus #capital hill #washington dc #white house #america #usa

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redandfranticfeelings · 5 years

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okay ive been wanting to make a post like this for a while but i wanted to make it an essay and i dont know if i can really organize my thoughts in that way yet, so here’s a chronological bullet-pointed dump to explain my very important thesis:

be more chill is about internalized ableism, and jeremy, michael, and christine are all highly autistic coded. this is going to be very long and detailed but only because there’s a lot of details that work very well under this lens.

there’s probably even stuff i missed but this is already extremely long so it basically just functions as a way for me to collect a bunch of details that i can piece together later in a more coherent manner.

“more than survive” in the context of jeremy being autistic works so much. the theme of wanting to be just socially acceptable enough to not burn out or be harassed is so relatable, and it visually establishes very early how jeremy is isolated from his peers due to his own awkward behavior and hypersensitivity. it’s coupled with his very obvious anxiety disorder, but the social aspect just screams autistic coding to me. i take this song to basically be “not having a meltdown is basically my goal but i would love to be neurotypical enough so i can heighten my standards and actually enjoy my social life.” some choice segments:

“if i’m not feeling weird or super strange, my life would be in utter disarray, cuz freaking out is my okay”

jeremy’s house being a mess is partly due to his dad’s serious depression, yeah, but i believe the other aspect is that jeremy’s executive dysfunction makes it just as hard to clean up in his place

he gets super anxious at the prospect of his expected routine being shaken up and having to make the decision on his own of how to get to school

“so i follow my own rules and i use them as my tools to stay alive” honestly sounds like a euphemism for autism to me

jeremy not really realizing that he’s staring at chloe

“avoiding any eye contact at all” explains itself

michael’s introduction, oh my god, every time i watch this part i just adore it. i could talk a lot more about michael’s autism later but this whole segment sells it especially.

first off, michael keeping his hood up and headphones on in a deliberate attempt to avoid social interaction and stay in his own space is such an autistic mood. even before this scene he’s constantly moving in the background to his music a la stimming. in the later performances he spends a lot more time playing with his hoodie strings and even chews on them!!

the fact he doesn’t talk to or even really look at jeremy until his song is done playing also feels very autistic to me! and the way he dances so confidently and basically pretends even his best friend isn’t there for the time being because he’s engrossed in his own passions.

michael is a great friend but it’s clear that he doesn’t really understand that his coping mechanism doesn’t really work for jeremy, and that even though michael feels confident reclaiming his identity as a ‘loser,’ jeremy doesn’t really feel any better about it. i think a lot of autistic folks, or at least i do, have this tendency to assume what works for us works for everyone around us at first due to our struggles with empathy. michael tries his best but struggles to see outside his point of view. it’s mind-blindness in action and jeremy can’t communicate why it upsets him any better than michael can pick up on it not working for him.

near the end of the song, they have a brief moment where all the ensemble crowds in around jeremy and the lights start flashing, which i interpret as a visual representation of sensory overload.

we’ll talk more about her soon, but outside of jeremy’s fantasies about her, christine also avoids social interaction during this number, constantly hiding her face in a book and avoiding eye contact just as much as jeremy. people forget that she’s not comfortable with unexpected social interaction, and that really informs my headcanon for her which brings us to....

“i love play rehearsal” is an autistic anthem. it also works, possibly even better due to in-text evidence, as an adhd anthem, but combined with the above it makes so much sense for her to be comorbid autism/adhd. i did a breakdown of the song in this context before, but i’ll sum it up here

the song showcases what having a special interest/hyperfixation is like. christine is singing to jeremy, yes, but she really seems so caught up in her own passion without much regard for how jeremy is following it, and even cuts him off from responding to her once or twice because she’s just so hyped up on her own feelings. she also basically implies her happiness is reliant on her special interest which is very relatable.

lines like “you follow a script so you know what comes next” also really sell the interpretation that christine isn’t good in unpredictable situations, and has so many identity issues and likes having something to look to where things are laid out for her. i think that stability is what a lot of autistic people look for, especially teenagers.

also with that in mind, look at how upset she gets watching a play she loves about get rewritten into something weird and new that she doesn’t know.

also gotta love how she still self-isolates before this song by focusing on her book, until she has a reason to infodump to jeremy. and then feels guilty afterwards and goes right back into her book while apologizing for getting “carried away”....biiiig mood there

the whole intro scene showcases both of their awkwardness so much. jeremy gets completely thrown off by her sarcastic comment about the swim team and almost believes it, which implies that he can’t read tone very well. and then christine’s “you’re a virgin” comment comes across like she really didn’t think about how that would sound to jeremy before saying it since she only made the clarification after he was ready to panic about it. she has a habit of speaking before she thinks, i think, the self-harm comment is also very awkward considering she barely knows jeremy.

after that scene we get “more than survive reprise” where jeremy admits to routinely having such bad breakdowns that he needs to step out and go to the nurse which works for both the anxiety disorder and the autism interpretation.

i’m not quite sure whether i see rich as autistic (i see him with a lot of mental issues for sure though) so i can’t say much on “the squip song” but there’s definitely something to describing a confused autistic kid as “almost helpless.” rich definitely has a habit of giving too much information though, i’ll say that.

“two player game” is just jeremy and michael being autistic solidarity: the song. i guess this is a good place to say that jeremy and michael work well as a contrast b/w two sides of autistic community, the side that struggles to function and desperately wants a change bc they’re afraid of being alone forever, and the side that tries to love all their symptoms and embrace their autistic pride. and as coincidental icing on the cake, jeremy wears blue (associated with the derogatory views from autism speaks) and michael wears red (associated with combating said views through autistic pride).

btw you could probably attribute michael’s ability to casually down a long-expired crystal pepsi as a sort of weird sensory quirk. and his fixation w/ that sort of memorabilia honestly feels like a special interest in its own right!

both “nice sideburns....wolverine, right” and “like in x-men????” using fiction as a reference point for real life always gives me autistic vibes (esp the first point where he awkwardly uses it to start conversation). can we assume x-men is a special interest? :3

jake referring to jeremy as a ‘freak’ when the squip turns on is really sad in this context but it also does make so much sense

now we get to the squip.....and what do you know, it uses tactics from abusive therapy used on autistic children. dare i say that “be more chill” as a song isn’t just an abuser’s song, but an ableist’s abuser’s song.

first off, the “spinal stimulation.” here’s a not so fun fact: electroshock therapy has been used to discourage autistic behavior in very recent years. (content warning in link for graphic description of ableist torture)

then the lyrics, in which the squip mostly focuses on jeremy’s posture and physically punishes him for disobeying. jeremy is shown to really struggle to stand up straight and pose himself in a normal, confident way, and i think that tendency to be unaware of what our body is doing is a pretty autistic thing?

the fact the squip singles out stammering and refers to jeremy’s “tics and fidgets” brings attention to two more autistic traits of jeremy’s

the squip basically punishes jeremy for responding “incorrectly” to social situations like rejecting brooke, even if they aren’t objectively wrong. it eventually just starts speaking for jeremy because jeremy seems incapable of acting natural. the squip is an abusive autism parent.

“sync up” demonstrates jeremy’s weird relationship with empathy. he wants to be nice to everyone- will has even called him “deeply empathetic”- but he’s initially really bad at seeing other people’s point of view, which is why he positions himself as sort of against the world, seeing everyone as better than him or trying to set up these barriers of Coolness where everyone else must be perfect compared to him. he’s so surprised to learn that the popular kids also hurt because of his strict idea of the social structure. it’s a combination of low self esteem and a black-and-white viewpoint.

let’s go back to christine. the squip, already established as ableist abuser, finds her “highly unusual” for acting in a way that disregards everyone who views her. she has very strange and specific visions in her head, and it seems very natural for her even if jeremy struggles to follow along.

in later performances, she chews on her sleeve and spins around during AGTIKBI. that’s stimming, babes. also gotta acknowledge “i don’t always relate to other people my age, except when i’m on the stage”

i’m gonna use this section to talk about jake and christine. christineis a bit unsure when interacting with jake, until he validates her interest- her acting is what really touches him. but jake, while good-hearted, has trouble being self-centered and thus not fully aware of christine’s own needs and space. so christine is always a little uncomfortable around him, especially in public, and not always willing to socialize. he is right about her being kind of stuck in her comfort zone, though, not doing anything off of her stage. and he is genuinely nice to her, it’s just a matter of their social strategies clashing.

the fact that the squip blocks out michael...i’ve had a lot of times in my life where i was told that socializing with other “weird” people would be counterproductive for my social development and it was part of why i was stuck with so few friends. so i really feel the idea that blocking out the person who helps you feel confident in your atypicality is framed as a good thing so you can act more socially adept, and that doing otherwise would just drag you both down.

hot DAMN does “loser geek whatever” make so much sense for an autistic kid with internalized ableism.

“it’s not only school that’s rough, being lonely’s stupid tough” makes it pretty clear this isn’t about the school social scene as muc as it is the entire social scene of the world. we may not see it, but it’s just (not) interacting with people in general that jeremy can’t stand.

“michael says that weird is rad but feeling weird just makes me sad” as stated above, makes a Lot More Sense with the idea that michael is both a more confident autistic and really bad at addressing jeremy’s own internalized ableism and desire to make connections outside his small friend group.

everything about jeremy boiling down all his problems to his “instincts” sucking and needing to basically be told what to do really highlights how autistic kids can feel broken because of their inability to fit into the social norm, to the point where we repress every behavior that actually makes us feel comfortable and unique.

not to mention the line about him being seen as a “normal handsome guy” since autistic people tend to be infantilized and never seen as desirable (will roland also implied this line has trans coding which is another discussion altogether but i feel i should acknowledge that here)

all of those terms that jeremy calls himself near the end- namely weirdo, misfit, oddball, freak, failure- all of this sounds like the shit people throw at autistic kids. like this goes beyond anxiety alone, this is jeremy being outcasted and oppressed by the general public due to his behavior. especially the “please don’t speak” part, considering how often autistic kids are mocked for misunderstanding when to speak, how to speak, and what to talk about. jeremy needs some freaking love. :(

“michael in the bathroom” is a panic attack, related to severe anxiety, but i do see a lot of aspects that play into autism as well. the little nervous stimmy movements of foot-bouncing and picking at grout, the explosive sensory overload during the “knock knock” section of the bridge, the whole concept of losing the only person you ever managed to connect to without sacrificing who you are, dealing with this massive change to your sense of philosophy and reality where you pinned everything on one person to ground yourself, and thus you’re now completely lost trying to isolate yourself from this big overwhelming social gathering...neurodivergent anthem all around.

jeremy and christine’s couch interactions during halloween give me such autistic positivity. christine basically echolales jeremy’s weird noise and they both have so much fun vocal stimming that they forget there’s another person in the room. it’s such a sweet moment until jeremy ruins it by realizing that asking her out right after a breakup is Not Really Good For Her.

christine’s reaction to the fire demonstrates a clear case of hyperempathy to me. it isn’t discussed as much as a complete lack of empathy, but autistic folks are prone to feeling way too much especially when it comes to others’ pain. christine talking about how she hates that everyone’s hurting and desperately wants to help but doesn’t know how, and how we’ve already seen how much she struggles to connect with others like jake....it’s a very relatable, very specific autistic mood.

going back to the theme of jeremy and empathy, christine’s above hyperempathy kind of breaks this mold, and while jeremy always does feel for the other kids, by this point he feels so strongly- particularly for christine, who he also saw as a perfect confident being until now- that the squip can manipulate him into “fixing” everyone the same way the squip was supposed to “fix” him. and he never considers that christine doesn’t need to be fixed because he just projects his own insecurity that strongly onto everyone else who seems “weird” in the same kind of way- hence why he assumes michael is jealous of him back in MITB. it’s likely a result of the squip’s manipulation but i feel like mind-blindness is a factor, even if jeremy switches between struggling to process others’ emotions and being extremely empathetic.

michael’s special interest saves the day!!! :D

the whole fight b/w jeremy and michael, assuming it comes from a genuine place of repressed bitterness, has a lot of added subtext with them both being autistic. jeremy accusing michael of “giving up” on social interaction, michael envies jeremy for trying bc michael is clearly Not comfortable in most large social settings, jeremy envies michael for his pride, it just hits home for me i guess

rich calling michael “antisocial headphones kid” honestly how is michael not canon autistic

in the off-bway version michael briefly speaks too loud forgetting that jeremy’s head still hurts which is a relatable Forgot About Boundaries thing. plus him smacking rich playfully forgetting that rich is Still In Pain

“voices in my head” works nice as a fuck-societal-norms-and-just-be-happy song. “embrace the traits that make you so odd” in particular :’)

jeremy remembering christine’s infodump about her obscure bowling alley performance art idea and bringing it up to her again!!!

the squip doesn’t go away because ableism and the anxiety it brings and all the upsetting symptoms of autism don’t go away, but with the right support and confidence you can live with them!!! good message for mental disorders in general and works very well in this context!!!

so in conclusion.....be more chill is autistic pride!!!

#be more chill #bmc #actuallyautistic #autistic headcanons #long post #be more neurodivergent #queue are so busted

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justseveralowls · 4 years

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Self-Care: Anxiety Edition

Okay, so today I am going to start hopefully a recurring post series called “Self-care Sundays”. The idea behind these posts is to give gentle ideas for self-care for a variety of situations. I am hoping to include a range of activities that have a variety of energy requirements ranging from none/ very little to higher demand. I hope these are helpful and that I have the spoons to keep this pattern up.

Why self-care when anxious is important:

Despite how often anxiety is dismissed as simply ‘being too high strung” or ‘just a part of life’, the effects it can have on your physical, social and emotional well being are undeniable. Chances are, even if you haven’t experienced long term or chronic anxiety, you’ve experienced at least some nasty effects from being anxious. Things like tension headaches, insomnia, irritability, digestive problems, and many others are pretty commonplace. These alone are nuisances, to say the least, but when turned into long term struggles they can worsen and even effect broader mental and physical health conditions. So caring for yourself while anxious, whether your anxiety is rare, sporadic, or chronic, is super important.

Low spoon/ Low energy

Unfollowing media that causes anxiety/stressors

Certain influencers, news apps, social media, triggering/ upsetting blogs or channels. As much as I didn’t want to admit this, unfollowing certain blogs and changing the books and movies I watched had a pretty impressive effect.

Setting up your phone/tablet/computer to have a do not disturb time.

Personally I have a daily ‘Do not disturb’ switch from 11 pm-7 am. This helps my focus this time toward preparing for the day, getting ready for sleep, or coloring.

Having limits on how often/how many times you check your email, particularly work or school if it is a major stressor.

Starting/ending your day with soft, calming or uplifting music and a few breaths (doesn’t have to be counted or deep.

Affirmations, either on post-its, on your phone, spoken allowed or just kept somewhere you can see them.

Heres a link to an anxiety affirmations list

Coloring.

Adult coloring books are great and all but if that’s too hard (holding colored pencils or large spaces to color) then there is nothing wrong with kids coloring books (E has a Hello Kitty one and crayons) or if that’s still too high energy I love color by number apps.

White noise, or guided meditations

Using apps to track mood and anxiety

Calm harm, Clear fear, Moody, ect

Hugging a pet, stuffed animal or friendly human

Mid- spoons/ Middle energy:

Brainstorm ways to make the stressful times of the day or week easier

Meal prepping/planning a meal out/ allowing yourself frozen food or boxed mac and cheese.

Give yourself small rewards to look forward to ( I download podcast episodes ahead of time and give myself something nice)

Prepping meds/vitamins ahead of time (proud owner of a ‘grandma pill container’)

Gratitude/positivity journaling (Can be just one line “Beautiful flower outside etc.)

Fidgets!

I absolutely love my fidget cube and magnet play thingy (sorry can’t really describe it better.

Learning to finger knit, crochet, knit or make friendship bracelets

This is actually awesome for allowing yourself to rest and recuperate while still feeling productive and getting the sweet sweet instant gratification. (I made this!)

Creating a google calendar to keep up with appointments and stuff. (Great for brain fog, systems, feeling overwhelmed, etc)

Give a self-massage, soak your feet, put on a face mask

Painting, collaging, writing, crafting, etc.

Higher spoons/Higher energy:

Making time for movement or activity of some type

IF YOU HAVE CHRONIC PAIN, ILLNESS, A HISTORY OF EATING DISORDERS/COMPULSIVE EXERCISE PLEASE BE SAFE AND DON’T HARM YOURSELF OR DISREGARD THE INSTRUCTIONS OF DOCTORS< COUNSELORS OR EVEN JUST YOUR BODY.

This can be a short walk, rocking in a rocking chair, dancing/moving to a song, going to an indoor pool and doing water walking (once I am off exercise restriction I intend to do this to treat my POTs and joint issues)

ONCE AGAIN STAY SAFE

Use a notebook at chart your anxiety, identify triggers and help with thought reframing.

This can help detect patterns and figure out what works best for you.

Venting to friends, to a stuffed animal or even to yourself

Seek out support groups (online or in-person) or pursue therapy (A lot of colleges have walk-in counseling for free, and there are lots of chat spaces/supports online)

Read/listen to media that inspires or calms you

If possible try a change of scenery

I adore going to libraries, coffee shops, or even just a different room or part of my room within my own house.

More important than anything on this list is that you take this struggle seriously. This is a real problem and deserves your attention and acknowledgment. Your brain does not produce anxiety simply because it thinks it is fun. Like every feeling, anxiety serves a purpose and it’s crucial that you give yourself the patience and grace that would give a close friend. Caring for yourself isn’t laziness, narcissism or a character flaw. It the right, kind, and emotionally intelligent thing to do. You can get through this. You are doing great. Keep fighting.

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qqueenofhades · 5 years

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Okay, but I still just have... so much rage and grief and utter, bone-deep bafflement and exasperation and more rage and more heartbreak over this whole thing that I feel like I have to throw at ye olde blue hellsite before I try to sleep. Because half of me can’t believe that this could have happened to Notre Dame of all places, and the other half of me absolutely can.

There are various well-meant posts in circulation trying to assure everyone that everything’s not gone and can be rebuilt to some degree, and I appreciate the intent behind those, but... we don’t even know the scale of the damage yet. The entire interior of the cathedral could be a loss, along with the roof, countless artworks unaccounted for, at least one of the major rose windows, and who knows what else. For all of us to discover that Notre Dame -- one of the global cultural institutions that you’d figure was pretty much untouchable -- had to literally beg for funding once actual pieces of it started falling on people -- has made us wonder, or at least it’s certainly made me wonder, how much more of this we can possibly sustain. My earlier post pointed out that as a species, we have money for one $13 billion dollar warship (and for the 500 super-rich trillionaires wrecking the planet), but apparently we don’t have a pennies-by-comparison €6.8 million to save an 850-year-old icon of art, history, religion, science, literature, and culture. I know Notre Dame had been allowed to fall into disrepair before. I know other beautiful and important things have been destroyed or lost through sheer carelessness or unavoidable tragedy or simple accident. I know tragedies and senseless losses are part of every historical era. But the context in which this one happened is what’s particularly upsetting.

First, this also happened last year with the National Museum of Brazil, which burned to the ground and lost centuries of irreplaceable artifacts after its funding was slashed to nothingness. That was possibly “easier” for people to disregard, because it happened in Latin America, in a non-Anglophone country, and not in what is generally recognised as the “West.” But if the West had any remaining delusions about what it’s left for itself after years and years of defunding the arts, mocking humanities as “worthless” and asking why people don’t get real jobs or degrees, and promoting a ludicrously fictionalised history that gets increasingly spouted as the Word of God by Twitter experts everywhere, it....well. Shouldn’t have those anymore. I’m sure it does, because its denial appears to be impermeable and irrecoverable. I recognise that nothing lasts, that beautiful things are destroyed, that the overall arc of human history is one of loss and rebuilding and resilience. There are beautiful messages to be had from all that. They’re important. And yet.

This did not have to happen.

We are, objectively, the richest and most prosperous and most technologically advanced we have ever been as a species, in any number of ways. We have never had as much information at our very fingertips as is available to anyone with a smartphone. And yet. The shared feeling of everyone in my generation (the 18-34-year-olds) is that this is a breaking point. We are facing essentially the make-or-break for Western civilization and the future of the planet in about.... the next two decades. We have no money, no sense of what, if anything, awaits us, and an increasingly grim realisation of just how badly late-stage capitalism is failing right when we’re trying to start careers or find jobs. We all have anxiety, morbid-humor coping mechanisms, and the awareness that there’s a less-than-zero chance that civilization collapses in our lifetimes. Many of us won’t have children because we can’t countenance giving them this broken world to inherit. We are so worried about not having enough time. The knowledge that we could work as hard as we can and just....watch it all burn, as we watched Notre Dame burn tonight, is inescapable. Millennials know that feeling. We live it all the time.

As other commentators have pointed out, we have seen art and history destroyed and disregarded, the return of rampant nationalism and xenophobia, anti-intellectualism, facts that are tailored to what you want to believe about the world, misogyny, fake news, Actual Nazis, a cultural discourse of capitalism that values you solely by your earning potential, and so forth. The knowledge that not even a seemingly untouchable place like Notre Dame is safe is just.... terrifying. If Notre Dame isn’t important enough to be saved or to be uncontroversially funded, what is? If Notre Dame is regarded as acceptable collateral damage, then.... where does it stop? What goes next? What do we lose now?

I am obviously a medieval historian and someone who tries to teach people about the importance of the past (and somehow still hope I can actually get paid to do that, which seems.... increasingly absurd by the day?) I have bewailed the fact that kids come into my classes apparently pre-installed with beliefs about Ye Olde Bad Medieval Times (tm) and I just... do not know where they get them from. So I am heartbroken on a personal level to see Notre Dame destroyed, due to the irreparable loss to history (we don’t even know how to make stained glass the same way they did!!!!) But when this plays into my struggle to make people understand where we came from and what we’ve done and how modernity has so many comforting lies about itself that render it completely incapable of confronting humanity’s worst traits and most terrible habits, because of some smug belief in “progress” and “superiority” and so on...

It just makes me wonder if anything I’m doing matters, if anything that my colleagues are doing matters. I know we care. It might be easier if we didn’t, but we do. But if it’s just us out on our island, shouting warnings at people who won’t listen to us, who sometimes take deliberate pride in not doing that, it’s hard to pick yourself up and do it all again. We will, and we need to do it, and I am deeply passionate about it, but I’m.... pretty knocked for six right now.

Notre Dame is burning because we, collectively, decided it was not important enough to save. I haven’t been there (and had always wanted to go), but I have been to other cathedrals in France and Europe. I don’t have to agree with the institutional Catholic Church on anything (and I don’t) to recognise the value and beauty and history of those places. If Notre Dame can fall victim to apathy, ignorance, derision, and the sheer staggering ability of humanity to not give a fuck about anything except its greediest impulses -- anything can.

If you’re worried about what else could go next: Good. You should be.

#hilary for ts #history #rant #notre dame #notre dame fire #i may have more to say later #but yeah

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order-progress · 4 years

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I used to have a really entitled outlook on life. In my mind though, I was entitled to my thought processes because it was where my mind existed in the place having had come from a once far more turbulent era. Back then I didn't question things that werent outwardly obvious. I didnt question the unremarkable identities of things that exhibited no distinctions amongst one another. Life was a stream of experience, and I just did the best of choices I decided to arrange, or really actually, more like shuffle choices into a messy pile and pat myself in the back cause I could squint at it my mismatched pile of non related events and not feel guilty for putting off routine, structure and goals.

I guess it isnt so surprising to anticipate that like all my other experiences, disicpline would present itself when and if I needed it to be summoned out of wherever creative and yet very hard to imagine location i would imagine it arriving at some future, ambiguous date, just in time to make no work look like fancier no work and with ribbons on it.

Something very common happened to me, something that is happinning right now all around the world, no matter how many days, or years after i first posted this here.

My boyfriend broke up with me.

I wore my entitlement pretty high that day, because somehow, despite there having been no carefully executed plan made on ky end--some masterpiece scheme of genius where one could really see there existed some reasonable and healthy attention to tackle to fucking problem.

Nope. My mother fucking entitled ass decided id actually be shocked. Not even fake shocked. Thats how you know you have lost touch with your surroundings, because big things happen in your wake..while your awake and yet somehow your stuck on who killed the butler in the library with the candle stick.

What makes this one of the most significant event despite its occurance being fairly common globaly, is that his presence had caused me to become more aware of more of the things I would have otherwise taken in stride, none of these events were remarkable on their own, but collectivelly, I had inadvertantly cleaned up my mindspace to find neatly organized clusters of thoughts no longer blending into the subconcious like 70's urban grafitti.

I didnt hold that moment to some disporportionately skewed sugar coating scale just to get ribbons on them after they were organized,I just acknowledged them, like a breath,where as before, they were simply obstacles or pit stops that would perpetuate the chronic attention deficit I had welcomed into my head. I like to think of ADD as the worlds most innefective street sweepers, they sweep alright, but they just make a bigger mess and then you got things in places they have no business being in.

I was in a place of low self worth because of an accumulated collection of short lived and half assed adventures, disastrous endeavers and the nefarious presence of something so obscured, so black and forboding, made me avoid certain places for simply not wanting to deal with the house keeping it wouldve required to mitigate its destructive intentions.

I kept myself busy to not force the acknowledgent that this would become a source of not only my insecuruties, but then in addition to its ever increasing interconnectedness, its complexity. Its chambers that hardened like a mystical kight of armor, whose drawers were full of destructive objects and thoughts that rattled in their confinement as a means of foreshadowing something so sinister, I could not then yet fathom the destrutive ways its icy talons would engulf and twist into my everyday life simply to create chaos, and it didnt register that this was a problem because amidst this battle royale of fragments and bits of poorly put together patterns, Francisco's presense was a light whose emimation lulled me into a complacecy I hadnt anticipated

It wasnt that in this period, that I conciously made a decision to disregard the growing issue, it was the novelty of being in a loving, beautiful and mature relationship with someone that as each day grew, so did my conviction that this person was becoming the brightest fixture in an ever cramped confined hallway of possibilities.

As I stood there aware of this moment, feeling a satisfaction and a gratitude I had never felt before, I realized that I had come so far on autopilot, it was a move that was almost instinctual, I rolled my sleeves up, put on the rocky theme song, got my gym bag ready, went and bought like every stupid unessecary stupid trinket shit people buy to feel like their getting a handle and a good start on some shit, but really it just becomes the infuriating bag of junk that is now the obstacle between you and the door handle to exit your car and actually start your project.

I felt a sense of urgency, I saw how unequipped I had been and while I was and it was this moment that taught me how much I loved him. I reckognized that somehow I was one of those fucking weirdos that jumped through those seedy ass short cut type scenarios in life to give you the same effect of the real thing in less the time, kind of like a GED vs high school diploma, or plan b instead of condoms.

I recognized that there was an innate element of unneccesary risk involved in many of my accomplishments. The risk was usually always a concious decision that I would accept a certain amount of totally unnecessary consequences that typically would define the life of those people who you catch specific glimpses of in mysterious times like dawn or dusk. And be like..yea i could totally see that guy having to figure out what to do with the llama he inherited as a result of some gamble.

This was no longer an acceptable risk. It wasnt that i thought it was dangerous or scare him away, its that I am not the kind of man that wakes up and sees the problems his factory has and finally knows how to fix it and then just be okay with going to bed and put it off.

This is where I get annoyed again. I knew that I wasnt capable of actively doing something against him, because we both agreed on things, and also neither of us was completely high as fucking kite on methamphetamines while operating a forklift to tune a paino yet.

I couldnt ever feel bad about atheletes who ugly cried after being disqualified for juicing to get an unfair advantage in the sports world.

Yet once again my overwhelming confidence, my lovable man mentality of "fuck a map or tools you got grit, spit and teeth". Prevailed.

Im mad because it was this moment right here. In a sea of me being happy to grow and learn and doing the rignt thing. I saw a place i overlooked, its presence was almost like a marker that there were many other areas i needed to work on, and i got sad.

I didnt feel good enough. I felt like a mess. I felt dissapointed at the pride in nothing I had taken so many times. I was finally proud of the changes i was making again, only to be reminded in a very real way of how I never had structure, never had a fail safe implemented effectively to instead of adopting either anxiety or no fucks about an event that could have been in my power to mitigate, i either didnt even notice I missed it, or didnt care.

As I started seeing the mountain of work I had to do, I wondered what it meant about how effectively i could handle other things moving forward, it was an irrational fear that I had that I would dissapoint him because I wanted us to be happy. But i am an artistic person, people who work with details to make a larger picture learn early on how to work details, and I never evaluated just how shoddy my altertanitive crash course was like getting PlAN B instead of putting a condom on.

I can handle pressure effectively. I can be okay with my decisions. What I cant do is open up a factory, see everything that was negelcted when I now know how to fix it, and then go to sleep like nothing bothered me.

I never in my life found myself in a place where i came face to face with old life and it made me feel sad or humilated. I felt like a fraud for just having gotten lucky that everytning worked out, while he worked hard.

I suddenly felt something I never experienced before, fear in love. The moment where you realize your not a piece of shit because you actually dont want to let someone down, the moment when you feel bad because you walked around in life with luck you didnt give a second thought to and passed it off as hard work. And here was this beautiful man, whose life was suffering and hard work, and you realized all of it at once, and there I was, eager fucking beaver captain america man of the house cause now i feel like a god damned engineer since i could assemble an ikea 3 piece wrench-back the fuck up motherfuckers.

I just felt humbled and i felt driven. I also felt the pressures rise up around me and I dont know why I couldnt look away from the sight of the realization of how id been. And its not like i did it all on purpose, but from that moment on, it was as if I had something to prove to myself that at that time I couldnt understand yet because I hadnt reflected yet. And as I was taking the scenic route on ways to "punish yourself is actually how we fucking motivate ourselves around here cus were fucking men" the bigger I created something inside me that wasnt ever there. And then as the places that I had been tendering to and growing in started to not be kept, pressure in my life at home happened. And for the first time in my entire life I was embarrassed at my life.

I remember the moment I felt it, my mom leaving me at work after I lost my car. I walked 2 miles in the cold because i was infuriated that I allowed another event I could have forseen to happen.

I never in my life reflected this intensley on my actions before. Having him in my life made me realize I had been holding myself to a higher standard because I am at my best when I when I am actively building towards something. I opened a place in me I never saw with those eyes and it hurt me. I tried to let him in, and to be honest, the insecurities of him seeing all that mortiified me..not because I would be seen as a slob or this or that, i was just dissapointed that I for a time during when I needed it the most in my early life, I wasnt necessarily taught healthy ways to do things. Mostly because I came to this country at 10, didnt know english, parents worked all the time until i was 16 and then dad got sick with brain cancer and we caught it after he had a seizure cause dad apperently loved moonlighting as my biggest fan when he would go reading my journal at night.

I didnt know how to explain it to francisco. I was feeling. New concept, i was feeling out of sync, i didnt understand why it hit me so hard. I was trying to look away and orient myself on the present.

I could have just dealt with that. But i suddenly felt raw and vulnerable. My boyfriend and I were getting into arguments because I just wanted us to be closer due to this need i didnt know how to vocalize about what I was going through, and he hesitated because he probably thought id leave him if i saw his dirty secrets.

That was the one thing he really never appreciated about my love. I just knew. If everything else was as evident ..like this feelings and where they came from and how to process them healthy while ...it just all got too much. I didnt know how to tell him what I needed. I just needed him.

I started to feel like i wasnt tethered to the focused areas I was so eager to work in. I just kept telling myself communication is key we will get through it.

Then I the drugs did something I didnt expect them to. They turned off this guilt and switch. They gave me the quiet to make them come down to a more manegeable place where I wasnt overwhelmed anymore.

Because I couldnt process this in words at the time, i didnt know how to express that to him. It led to me feeling guilty for not understanding why i enjoyed doing the drugs aside from the stimulant effect. When i tried to explain it to him, it was like trying to coin a cheesy motto for a doomed cereal commercial in french, basically everuthing sounded like something he had no understamding or could relate to.

I started feeling depressed because i could see that although from his perspective we were fighting..

I was even more frustrated becauese we werent fighting. I was pretty much crying, trying to tell him in french something he didnt understand while he was yelling at me in english about me not respecting him by not speaking english.

This was the worst fucking part. Because part of the issue that led me here was accountabiliyy and communication.

I kept telling him in the only way i knew how.please im sorry i know things are getting worse. But this isnt how we are.

I thought we could get through anything.

In his mind he saw a piece of something, he ignored my emotional attachment to it..and i mean i cant blame him, other people never quit.

But even in those moments i knew i wasnt going to be other people.

And suddenly i was alone. I was depressed. I had realized that it wasnt us that was th issue so i tried so hard to communicate more effectively that he got frustrated and said i talked in loops. I felt so alone because i understood his frustration and i just needed him to trust me. But that was the perfect storm when i just got so alone feeling from his inability to just not look at me how i felt at myself. And i honestly tried to fix it in the middle of him running away and the most painful thing was that he couldnt understand and i didnt know how to say it.

I dont blame him for leaving

But a part of me breaks to my very core to know that if he just literally lookrd at me like yes i was going crZy but i was just hurting and overwhelmed.

All i wanted and needed was him.

The worst. Pain was that he didnt see that.

And i needed to explain it. And he didnt let me.

I felt like i was desperatly trying to express something of real explaination. I just honestly was desperate to because he was running.

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alwaysfarmed · 5 years

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Survivor Headcanons p1

Tumblr format is more inspiring than the notes app and word pad and other writing things. Dwight Fairfield:

Nice guy, a little odd. He can get pretty defensive over himself and his voice often cracks when he raises it. He shows obvious frustration when doubt is placed upon him and goes into “work mode” where he completely dedicates himself to one thing, as if he’s trying to prove himself. He is not calm, but he IS collected (sometimes) and can organize things even in the most dire situations. The incredible part? It almost always works out. He seems to have an admiration for Meg, which could easily be mistaken for a crush. There’s something about her confidence that makes her stand out, and he wants to know how to be more like her. He shows the same kind of admiration for Laurie, though he is far more intimidated by her. After seeing the Shape and hearing that she had to go through HIM in the real world makes him terrified of her capabilities.

Most Hated Killers:

The Legion (can’t hide in lockers)

The Huntress (risky hiding in lockers)

Leatherface (When he came out, a Dwight face customization option came out. It was Dwight with bruises and stuff and the description said he got beat up by Leatherface so there’s that.)

Meg Thomas:

At first, Meg was a very angry person. She was torn about not being able to leave and she took out this grief in anger, throwing insults (and sometimes sticks) at nearly everyone. Since then, she’s definitely cooled down, but she still has her moments. At this point, everyone knows to stay out of her way both emotionally and physically. Especially physically. Meg uses her abilities to her best and is very resourceful when she needs to be, but nowhere near as resourceful as Claudette. She gets along with David surprisingly well, despite them both having very....strong.... personalities. She and Bill also get along. Bill acts almost as a fatherly figure for her. She also shares an odd sort of friendship with Nea. They argue a good bit, but they both exhibit a type of respect for one another. Different lifestyles, but that’s respectable. Meg has done her fair share of flipping off the killers............ and getting face camped. If she doesn’t hate a killer, its because she thinks it’s funny when she jukes them. This is especially the case with the Doctor. If she hates them, its probably because she can’t juke them. Or that they combat her running in some way.

Most Hated Killers:

The Hag (Even if you run, she can just TELEPORT)

The Legion (Too fast e.e)

The Clown (Slows her down and she hates it. The Entity is foggy enough, Clown.)

Claudette Morel:

Claudette is very kind and always helpful to anyone that’s injured. When she first arrived, she was terrified, but she slowly started becoming stronger. The thought of starting over, as terrible as the circumstances were, intrigued her. A lot. She could finally stop being so recluse and start over with people that have no previous expectations of her. Sweet! Finally, she could leave behind the loneliness of her previous hobbies and turn to something more.... altruistic. She puts herself at risk in order to save people and is very, very caring. She often worries about David and they argue over how he needs to take more care of himself, and Claudette is always the one thinking “told you so” when he gets put on the hook before anyone else. She also worries for Quentin and his lack of sleep. She likes to visit him when she can’t sleep and try and convince him to get some rest. She quite possibly has a crush on Jake, and its likely that its mutual. She’s always the most concerned about him, even when he should be the least of her worries (cough cough DAVID). She is well known for her amount of empathy. Sometimes...... just sometimes she can’t help but feel a little bad for even the killers.

Most Hated Killers:

The Nurse (How on earth is she supposed to heal anyone with this freak teleporting around. Plus, it takes forever to heal anyone with the anxiety she provokes.)

The Clown (This idiot is so freaky that she has to slow herself down to prevent further injury to whomever she’s healing. It takes too longgggg.)

Leatherface (This weirdo makes her drop my med-kit and she can never find the people that need her help the most. Plus, he almost always knows where she’s at. It’s freaky.)

The Doctor (Does this bigot have a degree? She guarantees you that he doesn’t. Somehow, just being near him makes everyone tremble. Do you know how hard it is to use a needle when your hands are shaking so badly?)

Nea Karlsson:

Nea is......... odd. She’s always thought she was a little too good for school and other organized things, so she rebelled. Her stealth is unmatched by anyone (except the Wraith who can literally turn invisible...... and the Pig........ Maybe even Tier 1 Michael- no. Nea is the stealthiest). She is the definition of immersed, and if it weren’t for this, she may have never bonded with Meg. Meg has the ability gifted to her by the Entity to be “Quick n’ Quiet” meaning she can perform loud actions very quietly in dire situations. Nea took note of this and they began discussing the strength of stealth. Nea is very nimble and almost always seems to be there in the corner of your eye. Kinda creepy. She’s never fit in just right, and she’s fine with that. She lives with a flashlight in her hand. She was a spray paint artist so if she can get her hands on anything artsy, she certainly will. As for relationships with other people? She hates Jake to put first things first. Sure, he’s kind of helpful once in a blue moon when he breaks a hook right in front of the killer, and he can keep his mouth shut when something happens to him, and he can keep the crows from giving away their location, but he’s a dick. This pompous asshole shares the common trait of not fitting in, but they all do, and the most fitting in Jake does is trying to fit his sarcasm and self-centered comments into any conversation, and it makes Nea’s blood boil. Her relationship with David is so-so. Nea gets a kick out of hearing him talk like a mad Australian.... since that’s what he is. But other than that, they don’t interact much. She talks to Feng every so often since the Entity gifted them similar abilities. She doesn’t really like Adam since he’s a teacher and all teachers have that stigma against drop-outs, but they talk sometimes. But the person she talks to the most is Quentin Smith. This sleepy boi immediately got her attention just by how completely and utterly useless he seemed. I’ll get more into this later.

Most Hated Killers:

The Wraith (She finds it hilarious to stun him and flashlight blind him, but the fact that he didn’t work for stealth annoys her. Just going invisible like that? It isn’t fair.)

The Legion (They tick her off because no matter how stealthy she’s being, if some idiot gets stabbed anywhere near her, they give away her location, immediately disregarding any effort she put into being hidden.)

The Doctor (Even if she managed to sneak past him right before his eyes and managed not to get caught, what’s the point? He’s going to electrocute her and make her scream anyways, that bastard. You can’t hide from the doctor and its annoying as hell.)

The Hillbilly (This inbred piece of shit is literally immune to flashlights. That’s her only complaint.)

Jake Park:

Jake is very connected to nature and is generally calm. He tries his best to help out with the hooks but does this idiot ever succeed? Sometimes. Everyone mutually agrees (except Claudette and Jeff) that Jake should put himself to use every once in a while and maybe do a generator or something actually useful. But other than that, Jake loves animals and long walks on the beach taking in the nature around him, even if its dreary and unsafe. He has a strong dislike for business types like Ace. He doesn’t like cops so he, at first, disliked Detective Tapp (he’s warmed up to him by now). He does like Jeff because he only helps him with his sabotaging cause. The entity gave Jeff the ability to break any hook he’s rescued from, so its the only time Jake ever does anything altruistic. How about it. The only headcanons I really have about Jake is that he’s an asshole to basically everyone except Claudette, since they both have a connection with nature and, hey, he needs somebody. Oh, and also he cleanses totems too. Nice.

Most Hated Killers:

The Pig (That damn pig is so crafty, isn’t she? After he breaks a hook, its completely in vain since It’ll just repair itself like ten seconds later anyways.)

The Spirit (If he took a shot for every time he cleansed haunted grounds....he’d be drunk enough to somehow be even more useless than he already is.) (Sorry Jake Mains)

The Nightmare (Jake just wants to leave. Screw blood warden, let him leave.)

David King:

David seems like the kind of guy to have a temper. I mean, he does, but its not super common that he does. He usually keeps pretty calm and just smirks at any rudeness or annoyances, but when he finally loses his cool? All hell breaks loose. Broken noses and bruised eyes are not something he holds back from in a fight unless its against a lady. Meg finds this incredibly annoying as she’d rather him break her nose than hold back just because she’s smaller. It is for her own good, though. David is surprisingly a very nice guy. He has a comforting presence, even if he looks kind of scary. He is very smart, despite the macho look, and he is one hell of a tough cookie.

Most Hated Killers:

Huntress (her attacks are hard to avoid for long, especially with the whole “no mither” going on.)

The Pig (Too easy to be caught off guard. He only has one chance and if he isn’t expecting the ambush, its game over ;) )

The Spirit (This freak pops up out of nowhere. And her katana is a little too close for comfort.)

#dead by daylight #dbd #headcanons #dbd headcanons #survivor main #survivors dbd

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taichoushadow · 5 years

Text

I wouldn’t change a thing about you ~ Jungkook drabble

A/N: @la2244 eventhough I changed a bit of direction I still got a fluffy at the end so.. please try to look past the grammar mistake, its kind of late here and I am just too lazy to get through them right now. Have fun reading and let me know what you think. Enjoy.

Honestly, you wanted to go home, you wanted to turn around and leave right this instant, fleeing the scene yet you stayed seated on the chair, elbows leaned on the kitchen table as your hands covered your ears. Now and then your eyes wandered towards the tense body pacing back and forth through the small room before they settled on the man’s face, reading his every frown, his trembling lips as they spewed out everything he could think of and you knew it weren’t the kindest words you’ve heard in your life however you didn’t care as you stared at his deep red coloured lips, red wasn’t really a colour you associated with love, it was a colour that made you think of anxiety, of hurt and holding back, now you weren’t saying that red wasn’t a good colour, far from that, at times it gave you satisfaction, it made you giggle, relieved..

today it was anxious, today red hid his discomfort, his pain, his insecurity, today red was anger, frustation, not wanting to admit how he truly felt and eventhough you saw through it, you never were a hero when someone stood infront of you, their voices louder than they should be, words that definitely weren’t meant at all, it still made you uncomfortable however you knew he needed you right now, more than he ever would and so you lowered your hands from your ears, your feet pushing on the ground as the chair scooted back and stood up and walked over to him as slowly as you could not wanting to scare and cause him to explde since he was stressed to the maximum.

while your feet guided your way through him, you couldn’t help but flinch when particulair words rolled of his tongue, knowing it wasn’t what he normally wouldn’t even dare to think about, you knew that but it still hurt, putting that aside for now (definitely were going to speak up about it once he calmed down) your body halted when your hand brushed against his shirt, fingers grasping the material and folding it in your fist like a grab machine at a fair clasping onto the prize and not wanting to let it go until you were sure you got the toy.

Jungkook stopped mid sentence when he felt a tug on his shirt and looked down and once he saw a small hand clenching his top, he instantly lifted his gaze and jumped back in shock when his met yours, your stare boring back into his.

‘‘Jungkook’‘. you whispered, your other hand falling onto his shoulder as you saw his face turning into shock and switching to regret mere seconds later. His mouth opened and closed, opened again and closed once more, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights.

‘‘Y/n.... I....’‘ he began and moved back, his fingers trying to unclasp your hold onto his shirt but you didn’t lift a finger, reading his every move as it was more than noticable he wanted to leave and hide in the bedroom, you wouldn’t let him though. He needed to get all of this frustration and hurt out and he wasn’t going to leave your side before that.

‘‘Kook listen’‘. You began, the hand on his shoulder moving southwards, gliding down his shoulderblades, stopping on his lowerback and with forceful push forcing him in your arms as he stumbled towards you, your arm now hooking around his waist keeping him locked in and even when he ‘tried’ to wiggle his way out, you knew he actually didn’t want to since the both of you knew, if he really wanted to escape he could, he didn’t use his strength at all, only pretending as if did.

Knowing he wasn’t going to leave, you let go of his shirt, your arm freeing his wait and placed your hands on his cheek.

‘’Jungkook look at me’’.

His eyes were everywhere except where they needed to be, avoiding you.

‘‘look at me..’’ you tried once more but when he didn’t seem to want to listen, you let out a big sigh.

‘‘I need you to look at me now. You have no choice, I think I deserve to atleast see your eyes now don’t I?’‘ your voice was firm yet gentle, showing him you didn’t want to argue. ‘‘I am not mad at you, okay? I just want to see you. I would love to see the most beautiful eyes in the world. Are you really going to deprive me of that?’‘

This made him chuckle as he shook his head and lifted his face, his eyes finally meeting yours and you couldn’t help but to smile a sad smile, regret pooling into his eyes any moment ready to spill and it only took one word from you to unlock the gate, tears running down his cheeks and threw himself onto you and you catched him, you would always try to catch him, always would try to keep him from falling hard, you weren’t foolish, you couldn’t always be there but when you could, you wouldn’t even hesitate to break his fall.

‘‘I am so sorry. I know I shouldn’t take it out on you and I know, I know, I know.’’ he tried to speak through his cries, repeating he knew, he really knew.

Hushing, you guided him to the couch and gently lowered him down onto it, quickly sitting down next to him once you saw him panicking when you didn’t follow him right away.

‘‘Jungkook..’‘ you sighed once again, grapping both of his hands in yours and faced him. ‘‘Listen to me and don’t interrupt me okay?’’

He nodded.

‘‘You know I’ve told you this a lot of times and I get it that you it’s difficult for you however, don’t you agree with me that this is very tiring for you?’‘ stopping, you looked at him to see if he did listen since he tended to let his mind wander whenever someone tried to give him advice. This time he actually was one hundred percent focused on you as he was now rubbing his thumbs over the palm of your hand after he switched positions and so you continued.

‘‘You can’t always hide no matter how much you want to, it doesn’t always work. I get it, you want to be a real man.’‘ you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes when you mentioned it, thinking back at the times he clearly told you that real men didn’t cry. ‘’and real men don’t cry and you know that it is utter bullshit. What’s so different about women and men and their tears? You need to throw that thought right out of the window. You know I will punch you and see if you start to cry if you say it one more time. Please do cry, please for your own health let those fears and hurt go Jungkook. You’re human and humans do cry. Do you think it’s healthy for our relationship if you let it out at me when you feel distressed, hurt, insecure?’’ He shook his head violently, squeaking out a immediate no. ‘’Then why would it be good for yourself? Cry if you must, if you’re breaking, than do it well, do it all at once and let those tears flow. Let them go until there are no more tears to shed, until all that pain is gone , the confusion you feel is dried up. Cry. It doesn’t matter how you do it, or where you do it. If you need someone there for you or want to be alone, if you need a movie or a book. Cry. You know I love you for who you are, you know that I love you because you aren’t perfect. I don’t want perfect, I don’t like perfect. The word perfect you shouldn’t even exist since it brings people anxiety, insecurity and a lot of expectations they shouldn’t have to meet.

It hurts the people around you two. Seeing someone struggling but now knowing how to help since that person blocks you out, pretend everything is fine when it’s obviously not okay when you clearly see the way they walk and talk and act. I don’t always care when you yell at me and you know that too. There are many things I like about you Jungkook, and there are also things that I don’t like, that annoy me but that is something that comes with it too. I have many faults aswell and before you open your mouth and tell me that’s not true, you can suck my ass, cause I have them just like you have yours and eventhough they can annoy me, there are times I can’t help but laugh as you want to be the best in everything again, get mad when you can’t win from me in need for speed, how you throw your consoler away and accuse me of cheating..’’

This time it was Jungkook who rolled his eyes, wiping his face with the tissue you gave him as you stuck out your tongue at him. ‘’You cheat though.’’ he mutters under his breath as he lets go of your hand. Ignoring him, you swing your legs over his lap, scooting a bit closer until your butt touched his thigh and run your finger trough his hair to continue your rant.

‘‘All that I am saying is that I wouldn’t have you in any other way, I wouldn’t change a thing about you.’‘

‘‘I started to like you more and more when I saw more and more of you, of the real you. You don’t have to pretend to be strong. It hurts, it truly does hurt when you avoid me, as if I would wave your insecurites away. I wouldn’t, never in my life, as long as I live disregard your feelings like they don’t matter. You can talk to me, if you don’t want to talk, you can cry or we can cuddle as long as you won’t keep walking with this feeling until the bomb explodes. That’s not good Jungkook. We don’t want that.’‘ you smiled brightly as he too began to ruffle your hair, his lips formed in the typical Kook smile.

‘‘I would never change a thing about you.’’

and with that you placed your lips on his, arms throwing around his neck, body pushing his down into the couch determined to show and let him know how much you loved every quirk of his.

#jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #bts scenario #bts drabble #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #junkook #jeon #jungkook fluff #bts fluff

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