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#y'all just hate weirdos
gold-snek-hoe · 2 months
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Hello and welcome to Opinions from an Internet Nobody. Today's essay:
"Ger therapy" is the new "You need Jesus": One Weirdo's Navigation through Cultural Shame
This is a supposedly well-meaning sentiment that is often weaponized against people who are behaving outside of perceived cultural norms. It's a favorite of homophobes who see queerness/transness as a mental illness, but I've been seeing it used to demonize kink (which historically is often linked to queerness), and more generally any "weird" behavior that makes people uncomfortable.
For example, otherkin, systems (especially those with fictives), and people who take fictional characters as partners. Y'know, "weirdos" who "can't separate reality from fiction." And, sure, sometimes there can be a problem with that distinction, but I know as well as you that most internet strangers saying "get therapy" don't actually give a shit about the mental health of those they target. It's code for "your behavior makes me uncomfortable, stop it."
Same sentiment as "you need Jesus."
This has actually taken me a long time to figure out. I've been in therapy for my entire adult life, working through various traumas, severe depression, anxiety, all that. Those were the biggest problems as they negatively impacted, and often endangered, my life. It was only after my hospitalization in 2020, where I was finally put on much needed medication, that I could start to grow into myself.
I changed my name. I top surgery. I came out as polyamorous. I finally got my official autism diagnosis. Now I'm fuckin' married! But... there are still things I'm working through in therapy. Mainly, shame over my "weirder" behaviors. My current therapist has been a huge blessing in helping me accept the things I was too ashamed to admit.
Now, I feel comfortable enough to share.
I'm otherkin. Always have been. My connection to my humanity is tenuous, and I'm sure that's connected to my autism. When mad, I feel phantom horns sprouting from my forehead. I have a tail that swishes back and forth at the base of my spine. In my soul, I am monstrous, and years of therapy has not erased that.
I feel like I'm only half in the physical world most of the time. This doesn't hinder my real-world success (I graduated college Summa Cum Laude, have an IMDB page, and am on my third book), but informs the way I look at the world. There's a whole other universe in my head that hums along with me in my day-to-day. That's part of why I'm so skilled as a writer. To ask me to divorce from that is to tell me to stop existing. Sorry, it's how I've always operated.
Lastly, and this is the one I'm really anxious about, I have a fictional husband. Now, looking at my blog, you might say "yeah, no shit," but I don't just ship myself with him. I mean I practice pop-culture Witchcraft, and the Goblin King is my patron. I mean I have a Labyrinth-themed tarot deck that I talk to him with. I mean I held a ritual to spiritually marry him. Basically, I Snape-wived myself.
And guess what? My therapist isn't concerned. It's not hurting my ability to live my life. I have other interests, hobbies, and goals outside of him, which he actively encourages in all our tarot sessions! I wouldn't be doing this if he didn't support me. My IRL spouse is usually there for whatever magical shit I'm doing, and supports me! Some of my closest friends know, and the only complaint I've gotten is "this guy seems important to you, I wish you told me sooner." Hell, my MOTHER knows and supports me, which is huge, because our relationship was pretty damaged after I came out as trans.
If you have a problem with the way I live my life, when literally nobody else does, take a good long look at why. You don't give a fuck about my mental health. You just don't like that I'm weird.
Tl;dr: My mental health is better than it's ever been since embracing the weird, so leave me and my imaginary husband Marak Sixfinger alone.
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minty-bubblegum · 7 months
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There's no cheezy moon to my minty bubblegum dramatic sigh I'm so bored 😔
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cosmicrot · 3 months
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post about fatphobia: fat people are systematically treated like shit and this extends deep into many aspects of life including but not limited to the medical field, school, fashion, etc.
the comments: well MaYbE if You CaReD AboUt BeinG FuckAbLe AnD HaTeD YouRseLF, you'd STARVE and bOdY BUILD!! fAT pEOPlE aREN't oPPRESSED!! You'Re OppRessIng ME by Enjoying Being Fat aNd Healthy. [insert rant about obesity here that is 90% lies] [insert follow up rant about being oppressed for being skinny]
"wuh buh skinny shaming!" "skinny people are medically neglected too!" like... y'all are ignoring the fact that *a majority* of medical neglect and things of that nature towards skinny people is in majority because of fatphobia, [the rest due to other factors such as misogyny, racism, transphobia and queerphobia, etc.. making them not take things like ED and ailments causing you to lose weight/be underweight as serious] Like from first hand experience, a lot of people & doctors would literally rather folks be sick and malnourished then be fat. They'd literally rather people's bodies fall apart due to lack of nutrients or be so underweight they can't get out of bed, than have noticeable fat on their bodies.
but yeah no let's just overtake serious discussions about fatphobia and/or posts uplifting and celebrating fat people and make it about skinny people //sarcasm
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krisstatarchive · 2 years
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can people on here stop acting like nick jackson is the weird buck out of them both
they're both weird
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sherlock-is-ace · 2 years
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#psicoanalysing myself in the tags this time so it's easier to ignore on y'all's dashes#don't say i don't care fo you guys <3#lol#no but of course i'm still thinking about autism tratis (haven't stopped thinking about it for one second)#everything i do or think now i'm comparing it to a list of autistic traits and drawing the same conclusion...#there is a big fat chance i am autistic (i'm now like 90% sure but i'm still looking things up)#anyways one big thing that is very annoying for me right now is masking...#i think i've done it all my life to such extent that i don't know what i've been faking and what's been real..#i overcompensate A LOT so i feel like i can't bring this up to people who know me (spacially my mom)#cause none of them would believe me *because* i overcompensate so much#and i'm drawing a lot of parallels with gender stuff#like to people who see me around I am VERY MUCH a girl#but for me and the people close to me i'm very clearly not#it's just that my enormous aversion to bringing attention to myself won't allow me to be myself#like i will overcompensate my masculinity by being very feminine when i'm out and about#because i know how i look! and it's more ''''normal'''' to see an afab behaving like a woman#and i don't want to be ''the trans weirdo'' everywhere i go#same with social situations. i act like i don't hate speaking because the thought of having to explain that i hate speaking#and being labeld as weird terrifies me#i once brought this up to my therapist and she dismissed it very quickly (which is why i'm no longer in therapy...)#but like i was explaining to her that i'm so anxious about going into a shop to buy anything and once i was with my mom#and i was expecting her to go and buy the things but she sent me in (validly *I* was the one that needed the things lol)#and i went in and did the buying... seemingly normal#but what wasn't seen was my thought process#the idea of having to embarrass myself in front of my mother and in public as a 20 yo who couldn't go into a shop...#and then have a back and forth discussion with my mother about how stupid that was and having to justify my anxiety and the confrontation#that was WAY worse in my head than just going in having a horrible time and buying what i needed in like 10 minutes you know?#the ''''social'''' decision i made wasn't because i don't have social anxiety it was because that was the least worse option#and i tried explaining this to my therapist and she just said ''if you had anxiety you wouldn't have gone in''#and changed the subject... just because i didn't fit what he textbook said was anxiety
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gender-euphowrya · 2 years
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do Not mistake this for a shinzo abe moment but Damn people who have kids are fucking brave actually
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allpromarlo · 2 years
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if it's anything i hate in this world it's kendrick stans who put him in a box and don't let him make lighthearted fun music because then they can't put him on a pedestal anymore
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sunden · 2 years
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not to rant again but the absolute worst thing abt fic is authors who use it as an outlet to like.. demean other players bc it benefits your fav like huh? what?
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prazinos · 1 year
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Just Go With It
Xavier Thorpe x Reader
Fake dating trope
Disclaimer ~ I do not support Percy Hynes White, this is about the character and not the actor.
WARNINGS ! ~ None just fluff !
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Walking out of class, you saw him. Paul, a siren that honestly everybody secretly hated.
And unfortunately for you, he couldn't take no for an answer. Over and over he had asked you on a date. Countless times. You think nobody's had the guts to say no to him before or he thinks you're playing hard to get.
Out of your peripheral, you saw him look at you and start walking towards you. In a moment of pure instinct you grabbed onto somebody's arm in front of you.
You felt them tense, you look up to see Xavier, a devastatingly handsome young man who you were kind of acquainted with, you had only met at one of Bianca's parties.
'I'm sorry, just go with it, please' you muttered, he looked down at you confused, before nodding.
He put his arm around you pulling you in close, walking towards the courtyard.
Walking out you saw Enid, Wednesday, Bianca, and Ajax. Ajax was handing Bianca a bag of blunts as Bianca complained about the price
'Bianca, you can just get a bag of weed cheaper, the only reason the blunts cost more is because I have to roll them!'
'fine' Bianca mumbled
As you and Xavier made your way to the table everybody was seated, Enid broke out in a smile at the two of you, while everybody else looked kind of shocked.
Sitting down on the table, you saw Paul again, making a bee line towards you. You groaned as he approached the table,
'Y/N can I talk to you?'
'Paul I do not want to go out with you'
'Why not? I'm everything you could want and more baby'
You watched as almost everybody around you cringed at his words.
'I'm in a relationship Paul, stop asking me out'
'With who?'
'Me' Xavier said, his 6'2 frame towering over Pauls 5'6 one.
'Really Y/N? This weirdo? He hangs out in a shed with his free time doing god knows what' Paul scoffed.
'So what? At least he doesn't harass women to make them go out with him' you said crossing your arms over your chest.
'Whatever, don't come crawling back to me when you realise how much of a creep this guy is. You're such a slut for leading me on'
Everybody's eyes widened at Pauls use of 'slut'.
You watched as Xavier pushed Paul against one of the columns surrounding the courtyard, Enid attempted to get off of Wednesdays lap but Wednesday just held onto her tighter, clearly wanting to see how this went down.
'Don't fucking call her that you piece of shit' Xavier spat in Pauls face,
In all honesty, you loved the sight of Paul shitting himself.
Paul looked over at you in hopes you would tell Xavier to back down. You didn't.
'Don't look at her for help, you really think she would help you? You fucking harassed her for weeks just because she wouldn't go out with you' Xavier said, dropping Paul from where he had been pinned.
Paul got up from off the ground, shrugging his blazer back on properly, before running off, probably to tell Ms Weems.
Xavier walked back over to the group, Ajax passing him the blunt he was smoking with Bianca.
As that whole thing unravelled you were just sat in shock, how did Xavier know Paul was harassing you for so long? As Xavier sat next to you on the bench you quickly turned to him, kissing his cheek.
He smiled, blowing out the smoke from the blunt before kissing you.
You didn't know how to react at first before moving your lips with his.
'Alright you two, no making out in the courtyard. Xavier come to my office' Weems said walking over with Paul trailing behind. You broke apart although you really didn't want to
'Pussy.' Wednesday mumbled as Enid giggled.
Xavier got off the bench, kissing your cheek one more time
'Now! Mr Thorpe' Weems said
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This is a lot shorter than my normal things but hope y'all liked it and stuff. I'm thinking about writing some Wednesday x Enid stuff in the future but idk probably will
lmk if you liked this by liking, commenting, reblogging or following !
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convolutedblasphemy · 2 months
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I wasn't shitting you guys btw I actually made the one-sided radiostatic playlists
here is my lyrical masterpiece. both the vox version and the alastor one. done my best to make it as lyrically accurate as possible. @styrofauxm @onesidedradiostatic i hope you enjoy this (go check out the full lyrics for the songs on google if you can't listen to it but i recommend it because all of these are bangers) feat. my stupid commentary and vox's pathetic wet cat energy
Click to listen to the Vox one on YouTube
1. the hearse — matt maeson
thought this one fit so well lyrically. the "what was it like to feel in love" part i interpreted as vox asking himself that rather than alastor
❞ i am the man we both couldn't stand, i can't wash off the dirt from my hands, what was it like to feel in love? [...] i will never go backwards, i will never be free, i will never run faster; will you sink down to me? ❝
2. i'm just ken — ryan gosling
i'm not even adding lyrics to this one, everyone should have seen the barbie movie and this song at this point. this just HAD to be in there. can you feel the kenergy?
3. too many friends — placebo
less about alastor, more about vox's existential crisis
❞ my computer thinks I'm gay, i threw that piece of junk away on the champs-elysées as I was walking home. this is my last communique, down the superhighway. all that I have left to say in a single tome... ❝
4. creep — radiohead
i mean isn't this literally his theme song?
❞ when you were here before... couldn't look you in the eye. you're just like an angel. your skin makes me cry. you float like a feather in a beautiful world. i wish I was special. you're so fuckin' special. but I'm a creep, i'm a weirdo, what the hell am I doin' here? ❝
5. where evil grows — the poppy family
y'all seen the sonic movie? we need to see vox do that dance.
❞ i like the way you smile at me, i felt the heat that enveloped me and what i saw i liked to see. i never knew where evil grew. i should have steered away from you, my friend told me to keep clear of you but something drew me near to you ❝
6. one of us — ava max
i had to edit this one a bit in the video and cut out the part about the kissing because that for sure didn't happen
❞ one of us would die for love; one of us would give it up. one of us would risk it all; one of us won't even call. one of us could say goodbye, never even bat an eye... ❝
7. colorblind — amber riley
more pathetic wet cat energy brought to you by yours truly
❞ i don't think that i'll ever find that silver lining or reason to smile. you know i used to paint such vibrant dreams, now I'm colorblind, colorblind. when did my heart get so full of never mind, never mind? did you know that you stole the only thing I needed? ❝
8. arcade — duncan lawrence
more pathetic wet cat energy brought to you by yours truly
❞ a broken heart is all that's left. i'm still fixing all the cracks. lost a couple of pieces when i carried it, carried it, carried it home. i've spent all of the love I saved. we were always a losing game; small town boy in a big arcade, i got addicted to a losing game... all i know, all i know: loving you is a losing game. ❝
9. if i can't have you — skylar astin
i picked the version from zoey's extraordinary playlist on purpose because the context of this scene is that the dude who sings it hires a bunch of singers and dancers to confess in a public space as you, the viewer, sit there and cringe at him as he gets rejected. if that doesn't have vox energy, i don't know what does.
❞ i'm good at keepin' my distance (lie), i know that you're the feelin' I'm missing. you know that I hate to admit it but everything means nothin' if I can't have you. i can't write one song that's not about you, can't drink without thinkin' about you. is it too late to tell you that everything means nothing if I can't have you? ❝
10. do you want me (dead)? — all time low
when vox asks himself whether alastor wants him or wants him dead it's definitely the second option.
❞ i let it ride on a bet, i doubled down on a sinking ship; need a second to catch my breath: do you want me? or do you want me dead? oh, give it up for at least a second; i'm getting sick of your bullshit attitude and how you walk around like you shine brighter, it's killing me, so what do you say? do you want me? or do you want me dead? ❝
11. push — ryan gosling
i can't just put one musical number from the barbie movie in and not include the other one that fits equally as well.
❞ said, i don't know if I've ever been good enough. i'm a little bit rusty and I think my head is cavin' in. and I don't know if I've ever been really loved by a hand that's touched me, and I feel like something's got to give and I'm a little bit angry, well, this ain't over, no, not here, no; not while I still need you around. ❝
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Ice-cold rejection & vicious mockery: Alastor's version
the contrast of this is the best part.
Click here to listen to the Alastor one on YouTube
1. little big boy — madds buckley
he doesn't go easy on him. this is 0 compassion and 100% roast.
❞ brimstone fire and eyes aglow, little big boy's making the whole world know his name. raised on pillars and shining lights, breathing smoke for the right to keep his place. never satisfied 'till they all see how big this little boy can be. well the water's rising; tide's comin' in. does little big boy know how to swim in a pond filled with fish bigger than him? ❝
2. i help you hate me — sunrise avenue
he's so helpful fr but it's not working unfortunately
❞ i broke many hearts throughout my days. yours was the hardest one to face. though, I've never been a saint, i still love you every day, just not the lover kind of way. i know you wanna see me falling out, falling out the window. i know you wanna see me crashing down, crashing with my plane. baby, i'm way too young to die but I'll help you get over me. ❝
3. no surprise — daughtry
this is one of my favorite bands, i'm glad i got to include this.
❞ it came out like a river once i let it out when i thought that i wouldn't know how. held onto it forever just pushing it down, felt so good to let go of it now. not wrapping this in ribbons, shouldn't have to give a reason why: it's no surprise i won't be here tomorrow, i can't believe that I stayed 'til today. there's nothing here in this heart left to borrow. there's nothing here in this soul left to save. don't be surprised when we hate us tomorrow. ❝
4. go screw yourself — avery
i can picture him 1:1 delivering a swing version of this when vox confesses to him
❞ i know i've been holding it in, the way i feel about you. something i've been dying to say but I don't know how you'll take it; oh please don't go; you should know these three words i've been holding back; trying to fight, i'mma let 'em out... these three words, gotta let you know, here I go: go screw yourself. i've had enough, yeah, now we're done. ❝
5. the audacity — emelyn
this one's such a bop honestly. had to cut it in the video because i can't picture alastor realistically crying over anything vox-related.
❞ think your opinions should be broadcast... even though no one's subscribing, listening or liking but by all means, keep whining. must be tough if life's so rough. you should buy a mic, start a podcast, even though, wait, nobody asked. [...] where do all these men find the audacity? no actually, i'm stunned by your stupidity. ❝
6. friends — halocene
this one had to be on here.
❞ have you got no shame? you're looking insane turning up at my door. it's two in the morning, the rain is pouring, haven't we been here before? [...] so don't go look at me with that look in your eye, you really ain't going away without a fight. you can't be reasoned with, i'm done being polite. i've told you one, two, three, four, five, six thousand times. haven't I made it obvious? haven't I made it clear? want me to spell it out for you? f-r-i-e-n-d-s ❝
7. can't catch me now — olivia rodrigo
he likes the attention def especially after his return
❞ bet you thought i'd never do it, thought it'd go over my head. i bet you figured i'd pass with the winter, be somethin' easy to forget. oh, you think i'm gone 'cause i left but i'm in the trees, i'm in the breeze, my footsteps on the ground. you'll see my face in every place but you can't catch me now. through wading grass, the months will pass, you'll feel it all around. i'm here, i'm there, i'm everywhere but you can't catch me now ❝
8. take a hint — victoria justice & elizabeth gillies
this is on every rejection playlist and it's gonna be on mine too. a bop even after all these years.
❞ ask me for my number, yeah, you put me on the spot. you think that we should hook up, but I think that we should not. you had me at "hello", then you opened up your mouth and that is when it started going south. [...] what about "no" don't you get? so go and tell your friends i'm not really interested. it's about time that you're leavin', i'm gonna count to three and open my eyes and you'll be gone ❝
9. no — madilyn bailey & megan nicole
more rejection for y'all. the world needs more mean aroaces and this playlist is my contribution.
❞ first you gonna say you ain't runnin' game, thinking i'm believing every word; call me beautiful, so original, telling me I'm not like other girls, i was in my zone before you came along, now i'm thinking maybe you should go ❝
10. oh no — marina and the diamonds
a classic.
❞ don′t do love, don't do friends; i′m only after success. don't need a relationship, i'll never soften my grip [...] i know exactly what i want and who i want to be. i know exactly why i walk and talk like a machine. i'm now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy. ❝
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Reblogs are appreciated!
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marksbear · 1 year
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Could I ask for 141 with a southern male reader? I’d like to know what the boys would think of a heavy southern drawl (cowboys are all the rage now a days lol)
Wish I could write more, but I don't have much time rn. But I wrote as much as I could and on my blog theres more fics about y'know cowboy/southern reader
141 BOYS X SOUTHERN MALE READER
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Price is probably the least bothered by your accent. But he is interested by it. It's not everyday that he hears a southern accent like yours.
He secretly likes the silly nicknames you give him.
Anytime the team has a free day or something you'll take him to see you ride at a rodeo.
He probably knows how to ride a horse so you and him would spend time together riding around valleys and mountains and hike and camp. Like some brokeback mountain type shit.
As you two grow closer one day you'll just plop down your cowboy hat on his head and just walk away like nothing happened. Like your hat would just be a symbol of y'alls friendship when you give it to him.
He's not a messy person, but when it comes to arguing and he hears your accent thickens as you argue with the person, he'll watch from afar only stepping in when it becomes heated.
You teaching him how to use a lasso and how to make a lasso.
He likes to playfully correct your grammar when you say things. "Ain't isn't a word L/n."
He likes to help out on your ranch/farm from time to time.
Likes to call you outlaw.
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"It's hotter than a witches cooch ain't it soap?" *Soap stares at you like your were some fucking weirdo.* Your guys first ever conversation.
From that day forward y'all became the most annoying duo inside the whole military.
Steals your cowboy hat and boots all the time.
"Yer got a ol' lady at home or what?" Soap asks in a teasing tone.
Him laughing his ass off if you ever get thrown off a bull/horse.
If you have a ranch and you invite him over he would not help at all with chasing/ hurdling cattle. But he does help you groom the horses and milk the cows.
Him not trying to giggle while you scold him, because your accent is thicker and louder every time you do it.
Likes to poke fun at your accent even though he cannot be talking like at all.
Watching you in awe as you lasso an enemy and tie them up as if they were just some light sheep.
If you like to chew on wheat straw he'll side eye you a couple times as you just mind your business.
At your ranch he'll make a little competition to see who can lift more hay barrels.
Likes to watch you argue because you have a small temper and can be angered easily. So he just likes to see a good southern brawl from you.
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He was finally at peace once that he heard a familiar accent from where he was from.
The boy was thrilled to hear an american accent let alone a southern one. He was over the moon.
He probably grew up with people with a southern accent so once he heard yours he knew he had to get you on his side.
He knows how southern people get with their temper and feelings so he tries his hardest for you to not hate him like the others do.
Slowly you two begin to bond.
And once you two become friends y'all begin to hang out. He knows alot about farm animals and etc so he would help out at your farm/ranch. He loves taking care of the crops and all that.
The others on the team call you crazy for trusting him, but with your small temper you shouted at them with your accent coming in full force.
You calling him "City boy." while he calls you "Cowboy."
Him picking up your accent and words.
Since your accent begins to rub off on him he'll start calling you"darling." or "sugar."
Slowly tries to make you betray the team with him. He wouldn't force you, but he'll just go on and on as to why you should side with him.
THE END
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d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n · 1 year
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Exposure therapy.
Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky tends to avoid crowded spaces. He's afraid of something - either being recognised or being trapped or something else. He doesn't know. When you offer to help him get out of his comfort zone. He can't resist.
Word Count: 4.5K
Warnings: Creepy weirdo men (not Bucky), therapy, smut
AN: I'm sorry I make it seem like the Reader hates Raynor, it just kinda happened. Happy Wednesday y'all!!!!
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You dipped into the subway, dodging in between passengers - it was rush hour and the subway was disturbingly crowded. You scrambled onto the platform, praying that your train was slightly delayed so you could get on in time. It wasn't.
You stood on the platform as more and more peopled filtered, the noise building to a cacophony of miserable voices. You took a step back, trying to back away from the edge, when a man shoved you through the crowd. You stumbled forward.
A gloved hand wraps around your arm, pulling you back towards the middle of the platform and into a warm chest. You start to pull away, not keen to be leaning into a stranger. A familiar cologne hit you. You’d bought him that cologne. You looked up to see a welcome face.
Bucky.
A vicious scowl was etched into his face, his arm now firmly around your waist. You smile up at him, and he catches your smile, returning it with a soft one of his own. You reach to hold onto his hand as the train pulls up to the platform. You both step on, grabbing onto the bar and jolting as the train gets going.
Bucky leans down to your ear, “You okay, doll?”
His hot breaths elicit shivers all down your spine. You nod at him, unable to push any words out and he looks at your peculiarly. He’s never known you to be lost for words.
You met Bucky once he started his court-mandated therapy sessions. You were the receptionist at the clinic, and you knew Dr Raynor’s reputation for being thorough – although it was your personal opinion that maybe, sometimes, she could take it easy on some of her patients. Bucky was one of them.
You’d gathered a lot from the months that he had been going to therapy. The major thing was that therapy was the reason he was usually in such a poor mood. If he walked in in a bad mood, his mood when he left was positively foul. He didn’t like how Dr Raynor pried – even if that was, in fact, part of the point of his therapy.
You’d gathered that he was quite a lonely man. In fact, when he first started coming to therapy, the fact you smiled at him surprised him. He’d warmed up to it over it, and nowadays, when he came to the office, he greeted you before you greeted him.
You started finding jokes to tell, or little interesting facts – anything to make him smile. You offered sweets to the kids, words of warmth to the adults, and jokes to Bucky. It all worked out. He laughed at your jokes, in the same way the kids enjoyed their sweets and the adults appreciated to the adults.
Unbeknownst to you, Bucky looked forward to seeing you. He was surprised by your smile – but only how beautiful it was. He’d never seen pure sunshine until he saw your face break into a smile. In fact, the sun could go dark, but he knew that the world would only adapt to revolve around you. He knew that his already did.
On his birthday, you were the only person who gave him a present – a rather expensive cologne that you had splurged on. You wanted him to feel special. Turns out you didn’t need to go to those lengths. You were one of very few people who even knew it was his birthday.
Bucky made a point of buying you flowers from time to time after that – and you made a point of hiding them from Raynor. You didn’t want your budding friendship to be another thing she digs deep into. He also wore the cologne every time you saw him, which made you smile. At least he liked the gift.
He got off at your stop with you, even though you insisted he didn’t need to. Something about, ‘it’s on my way,’ and ‘I’d feel better if I knew you got home safe, doll.’ You smiled as he walked next to you, hands tucked into his pockets, leading the way to your apartment. You walked in a comfortable silence, the noise of Brooklyn blaring all around you
“How was it?” You asked, looking up at him.
“Hmm?”
“The subway. How was it?” You knew that Bucky generally got quite claustrophobic. He’d avoided the subway for the first few months of living in Brooklyn and, even now, only took it when he absolutely needed to.
He looked at you, his eyes full of amused frustration, “Could be worse.” He lowered his voice, hoping you wouldn’t hear him, “Was better ‘cause it was with you.”
You smiled, “Call it exposure therapy.”
“Exposure therapy? What’s that?”
“It’s where you face your fears by confronting them head on.” He looked at you, still confused, “You know how you’re scared of enclosed spaces?” He nodded his head, “Well, exposure therapy would put you in an enclosed space – like the subway – to confront your fear.”
Bucky nodded his head, mulling over your words in his head. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea.
You came to your apartment lobby, Bucky following you inside. You told him that this is where you left him, and that you’d see him next week, same place, same time.
You were heading toward your apartment when he stopped you, “You know the exposure therapy thing you mentioned?”
You turned back around, “Yeah?”
“Is that a real thing?”
You nodded your head. Bucky swallowed nervously, not sure how to ask the question. You read his mind, “You wanna give it a go?”
He nodded. You grabbed his hand gently, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.
“You should probably talk to the professional about how to actually go about it,” you chuckled at how his face darkened at the mention of Raynor, “but I’d love to help you out. Whatever you need.”
Bucky watched you as you disappeared into the stairwell, smiling all the way.
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Just like you said, Bucky brought the idea of exposure therapy up with Dr Raynor in his next session. Surprisingly, she was almost immediately on board. She figured that it would be a good way for Bucky to get out of his comfort zone and confront some of his more irrational fears.
He immediately told you. You squealed – a sound that definitely shocked Bucky – grabbing his phone from his hand and adding your number as a contact.
He changed your contact to 'Doll' – not that it was necessary seeing that the only people that ever texted or called were Sam and Raynor. Guess you were another person to add the extremely exclusive club.
The next morning you dragged him to a coffee shop. Not just any coffee shop. The local Starbucks. You drag him in during the rush hour, holding his hand as he grumbles in the line.
"Did we really have to start this extreme?" He says, gazing behind and in front of him. You squeeze his hand, reassuringly.
"You'll be fine. Know what you want?"
You shuffled forward as another person moved out of the line.
The Starbucks worker sighed as you and Bucky walked up to the front of the line. You smiled at Bucky as he gripped your hand, unassuredly.
"Hi - um - can I - uh - get - uh... -" Bucky stumbled over his words. You ran your fingers over his knuckles soothingly, "cold brew - the smallest size."
The worker nodded his head, "that'll be...-" You drowned out his words as you stared up at Bucky's face. His face was still contorted in a grimace, but there was a glint of pride in his eyes. You gave yourself a mental high five.
Bucky paid for his drink and waited as you ordered an iced caramel macchiato with oat milk. Bucky wasn't sure he knew what any of that meant but he looked in awe as you complimented the cashier and made him blush. You had that kind of effect on people.
You grabbed your drinks and went to sit in Central Park, the sun streaming through the trees as you found a bench. You rested your arm next to his, keeping the contact between the two of you minimal.
"You like it?" You asked, staring him in the face. He took a sip and pulled a face.
"Too bitter." He said, sticking his tongue in disgust. You laughed. He celebrated internally, desperate to hear that sound directed toward him again.
"Really?" I thought you would have liked it. You know, given the dark and brooding look you've got going on." You deadpanned. He shoved you gently and you laughed again.
"Try mine," you said, handing over your drink and grabbing his. Yours was much nicer than his, sweeter and more milk too. He smiled in response and took another sip, "Keep it. I like cold brew." He tried to change your mind and hand you back your drink, but you were adamant.
"Let's play a game."
He looked at you, questioningly.
"20 questions."
He turned to face you.
"Rules are: one person asks a question both answer it...-"
"That's not how '20 questions' usually works."
"Well, that's how it works now. Also rapid-fire: you have to say the first thing that comes to mind."
"Ok, shoot." He leaned back, resting on his arm, occasionally taking sips from the macchiato.
"Favourite colour?" You went first, starting simple.
"Yellow," He said, not really thinking. His face blushed when his mind caught up to him though. You noted that for later.
"Mine's blue, like the sea." You responded, staring intently into his eyes. Bucky's eyes were blue, just like the sea on a stormy day. Easy to get lost in. Easy to get found in. Those eyes told you where home was. "Your turn."
"Ok, umm- favourite hobby?"
"Umm, I like painting. Helps me relax. Used to paint a lot as a kid, probably need to do it more often." Bucky stared at your lips as you talked, mesmerised by the way they move. "What about you, Buck?
"Me? Oh, I like reading."
"Oh yeah? What kind of books?"
"The Hobbit. Was my favourite back in the day. Read it with Steve all the time." He became quiet at the mention of his best friend, and you reached out to rest a hand on his.
"You wanna know my other favourite hobby?" Bucky nodded, meeting your eyes, "Helping my favourite super soldier get out of his comfort zone." Bucky's eyes lit up at that.
You stood up, offering Bucky your hand. He grabbed, faking back pain as he stood up. "Where to next, doll?"
"We're going grocery shopping." The groan that left him made you laugh out loud.
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You walked into the Target near the compound. Neither of you actually lived in the compound, but this Target was bigger than any of the Targets in the city. You figured the bigger the Target, the more likely it was that Bucky would get out of his comfort zone.
He grabbed your hand and squeezes it tightly. You smiled up at him as you pulled out a trolley. Bucky grabbed it from you, hands tightening around the bar. You linked your arm with his.
"Ready?"
"No."
You smirked, patting his arm, "You'll be fine."
You perused through the aisles, occasionally handing Bucky an item. If you were too short to grab something, he'd reach up over your head and grab it for you. You flushed at that - the feeling of being caged between Bucky made you feel safe. Like nothing could ever touch you.
You walked ahead of Bucky, leaning on your tiptoes to grab some eggs from the shelf. You grab the carton, placing it in the trolley. He looks at you lovingly, your cheeks blushing under his gaze.
"Excuse me, could you move?" An old man shoves past the both of you. Bucky's gaze immediately hardens. The old man continues to grumble under his breath.
He moves to say something, but you grab his hand, shaking your head. Bucky pulls you into his chest, leaning to press his lips to your forehead. Butterflies erupt in your stomach as surprise washes over you. Clearly, his actions caught up to him as he froze up, muscles tightening under your hands. He tried to pull away but you keep your face nuzzled in his chest, arms wrapping tighter around him. You smiled as he relaxed into your hug.
He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Should we get going, doll? More things to buy."
You nodded but kept your hand in his. He smiled as you leaned into him. This was nice. He could get used to this.
You finished shopping, scanning your things through in the self-service. You didn't have that many items, but Bucky refused to let you pay, whipping out the card that Stark gave him, with the excuse that he didn't use it enough - especially, given the amount of money that Stark had put on it.
You were giddy. Your shopping trip was a success - Bucky now knew that supermarkets weren't even half as scary as he thought. In fact, he even smiled at a worker on his way out.
Bucky helped you load the two shopping bags onto his bike, before strapping the helmet onto your head. You could get used to this.
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After that day, you guys went out regularly. You tried restaurants and diners (Bucky preferred diners because it was less fancy and he felt more at home - "haven't changed much from the 40s", he'd said), you tried the gym (or rather, you dragged him to the gym with you on a random Tuesday morning when you had a spin cycle class - it wasn't that bad but Bucky stuck to training at the compound), you even took him to the cinema when they were showing a 'Lord of the Rings' rerun (Bucky almost kissed you when he heard the plan, but restrained himself - there was no way he was scaring you away now).
Therapy with Dr. Raynor became more bearable because it was just another excuse to see you. He'd put more effort into how he looked - combing his hair, keeping his beard trimmed how he knew you liked it.
Raynor picked up on it.
"I see your exposure therapy experiment is going well. What kinds of things have you been up to?"
Bucky stared out the window.
"James?"
He looked Raynor in the eye, before glancing at you through the window in the door. It was barely a shape, due to the frosted treatment on the window, but he knew it was you. He always knew.
"Shopping. She took me to the mall yesterday."
"That's a big step." Raynor said, noting that down with her pen, "How was it?"
"Wasn't that bad. We went into a shop she likes, then she asked me to pick a shop." Bucky looked down at his hands.
You had taken him into Sephora, promising him you only needed to get one thing. You run out of your favourite mascara and just needed to grab a tube. Bucky didn't know what mascara was, nor did he particularly care, but he followed you into the store nevertheless. You picked up the mascara you were looking for but kept milling around, looking to see if anything caught your fancy.
Bucky's hand found yours with relative familiarity, and you pulled him around as you explored. A man from across the shop gave him a sympathetic look.
You left Bucky for a moment to pick up a couple of face masks when the man from across the store made his way over. He patted Bucky on the shoulder amicably.
"Feel for you brother," he chuckled, moving past him. Bucky was confused.
You lined up behind him, mascara, face masks, and some liquid blush that you'd been meaning to get for a while in hand. You paid for the items, wishing the cashiers a good day. When you walked out, you asked Bucky where he wanted to go. It wasn't until you got to the clothes shop that he realised what the man meant.
He'd thought you guys were dating. The thought alone made Bucky want to smile. He gripped your hand tighter and didn't go for the rest of the trip.
Bucky looked up at Raynor and continued, "Then we got food and I dropped her home. Same as usual."
Raynor nodded, "Did it help?"
He shrugged, "I probably wouldn't go again. The mall isn't my kinda place."
"Why? Did something happen?"
"Too many teenagers."
Raynor smirked at that, "Any plans for this weekend?"
"Sam's taking me to a bar. Says we need a post-mission stress reliever."
Raynor nodded, "That'll be good for you, James. Enjoy it."
She stood up to open the door and Bucky followed closely behind. He left, wishing Raynor a good evening, before walking up to you with a smile.
"What can I do for my favourite super soldier today?" You asked, placing the sign-in/sign-out sheet in front of him.
"Maybe consider spending your Friday night at a bar with me?" He asked, nervousness hidden behind his confident facade. This was the first time he'd ever asked you on something resembling a date.
You saw through his front, "Is this just because you don't want Sam to spend the entire night trying to set you up with someone?"
"Maybe?"
You laughed.
"Is that a yes?"
"Sure, Buck. I'll go to the bar with you. Pick me up at 7? I'll send you the address."
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When you opened the door to your apartment, Bucky's jaw dropped. He thought he'd died and gone to heaven and you were the angel waiting to ring him in.
You smiled at his awestruck expression, patting his cheek before grabbing your hand and leading him to the stairwell he had just walked up. He followed you like a puppy.
He fastened the helmet tightly on your head, before speeding down the road, going as fast as you like it. You rest your head on his back, arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
You waltzed into the bar together, Sam's status as the new Captain America making it easy to skip the queue. You grabbed drinks - a cosmopolitan for you and an old fashioned for him. You teased him for his choice but Bucky just smiled.
You looked around for Sam, but he was nowhere to be found "Probably caught up doing Captain America stuff," you tell Bucky, whose eyebrows had been furrowed almost since you arrived.
You drag Bucky to the dance floor after two drinks, and you stay there for half the night, waiting for Sam to show up. You dance and dance and dance, teaching Bucky some new moves that wouldn't have been legal the last time that Bucky came out dancing with a girl. Bucky's phone buzzed in his pocket.
He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Sam's calling, I'll be back in a second." You smile up at him, continuing to dance once he'd left.
Not minutes had passed, when you feel a presence behind you. Thinking it was Bucky, you turn around to smile at him, only to come face to face with a greasy smile. He placed his hands on your ass, and you shoved him away, walking towards the bartender.
"Come on, sweetcheeks. Let us have some fun." You walked through the crowd faster, not looking back. He was still following you.
Bucky. He was outside, he could help you.
You made a beeline for the exit, hoping that the creep was far enough behind you, you could get away unseen. You weren't so lucky. He grabbed your hand and pushed you up against the door, arm pressing against your breasts. The door gave way as you pushed against the release latch, causing you to both go stumbling outside.
Bucky was right outside the door, trying to call Sam back, when you came flying through the door. He instantly pocketed his phone, striding towards you as you backed away from your pursuer.
You bumped into his chest, immediately pulling away to face him. You relaxed when you saw it was Bucky, grabbing his shirt and moving behind him.
"You can't hide from me, you little slut." Bucky saw red.
He grabbed the guy by his shirt and pushed him up against the wall, flesh hand coming up to slap his face. "Don't ever call my girl anything again, you hear me?"
You preened at 'my girl', hoping that it was true, that you were truly and honestly his girl.
Bucky let the man go as a bouncer came around the side of the building. He nodded towards Bucky, who explained that "he tried to grab my girl, chased her out the building."
There it was again. 'My girl.'
The bouncer grabbed the man by the scuff of his neck and threw him out onto the curb. Bucky turned to face you, hands stroking the side of his face. He looked intently into your eyes, searching for a hint of pain or fear. There was nothing. All he could see was love, radiating from your gaze and warming him from top to toe.
You grabbed his face and pulled him down, your lips pressing onto his. He melted into the kiss, eyes closing as he took over, tongue slipping between your lips as you gasped. A small whimper escaped you.
"Doll, you're driving me crazy."
"Take me home, Barnes."
He practically raced from the bar to his bedroom, carrying you up every flight of stairs. He gently rested you on the bed, ripping his shirt and jacket off in eagerness. He crawled on top of you as you reach to attach your lips to his. The kiss is long, messier than before, teeth and tongue fighting for dominance. You pulled away for air, resting your forehead against his.
He kissed you again, excitement pouring off of him, before moving to kiss down your jaw and in between your breasts. He eased your top off, leaving you in your bra, and kissed down your belly button to the top of your trousers. He asked for your consent with your eyes, hooking his fingers in your waistband. You nodded vigorously. He pulled your trousers down, discarding them against the floor. You took off your own bra, throwing it into the pile of your clothes. His eyes were fixed on your breasts for a few moments before he turned back to your cunt.
He buried his face in your clothed cunt, his hyper-sensitive smell craving the scent of your arousal. He teased you with his metal finger, rubbing circles around your clit. You arched up against him, whines slipping out of your mouth.
Those sounds made the blood rush straight to his cock.
He swiftly pulls your panties away, throwing them nearby your trousers. He buried his face between your thighs, nosing at your clit as he licked stripes up and down your lips. You whined, begging for more stimulation, and Bucky happily obliged. He moved to licking and sucking your swollen clit, the ministrations making you shiver and shake as you call his name, moaning loud enough for his neighbours to hear. Your thighs clenched around his head, trapping his face in your cunt. He watched as your squirmed, eyes trained on your pleasure-ridden face. He grabbed your thighs, massaging them under his hands, liking the feel of the flesh of your ass in his hand. He felt more possessive of you than ever. This was his.
His fingers moved to work their way into your pussy, it clenching tightly at the intrusion and overload of pleasure. He moved his fingers in and out slowly, picking up the pace of his tongue on your clit. You arched your back again. He smacked your thigh, wanting to gauge your reaction - you moaned loudly and your cunt clenched around his fingers. He growled out how fucking good you taste and how good you are for him. Your cunt clenched again at his praise.
"Oh, you like that? You like being my good little girl?" You moaned in response, "Oh sweetheart, I could eat you out for hours. Look at how pretty you are shaking and shivering for me."
His fingers sped up inside you, pounding into you. You came with a loud moan of his name and a shudder, collapsing against the bed in exhaustion.
The flush on your face and your fucked out expression made Bucky's cock impossibly harder.
He grabbed a condom from the nightstand, and pulled off his trousers and his boxers, discarding them somewhere. His dick was hard against his abs, tip red and leaking. He rolled the condom down his dick.
He pulled you down to the edge of the bed, flipping you over. "Ready for round 2?"
You nod enthusiastically.
"That's my good little girl."
He slid into you easily, giving you a minute to adjust to the stretch. He started off slow, but quickly lost control, yanking your hips up to meet his relentless thrusts. The super-soldier stamina mixed with the way you made him feel, made him all the more driven to push you over the edge again. The sound of your pussy when he drove back into you made him groan, your tits bouncing at the force of his thrusts. He reached forward to play with them, flicking and pulling the nubs as he pounded into you. You moaned, your face buried into a pillow as he pulled your hips back against his.
Bucky lifted your back up to his chest, rubbing at your clit with his metal hand, the flesh one remaining on your tits. You pulled it up, curling the fingers around your throat.
"Oh, you're a dirty girl." He squeezed a little, loving how your pussy clenched at the oxygen deprivation. You came seconds later, shaking as he kept fucking you through your orgasm, telling you how you’re gonna give him another one.
He spilled his own load into the condom moments later, pulling out and pulling you into his chest, both of your hearts beating impossibly fast.
He helped you clean up, wiping your body with a wet cloth after disposing of the used condom, helping you into a pair of his boxers, and giving you a t-shirt to cover everything else.
"Not that you need to. I appreciate having some eye candy to look at," he said cockily, holding the shirt over your head, just out of your reach
You looked up at him, hands covering your naked tits, "Where's this cocky energy when we're out in shops, huh? Would've made exposure therapy so much easier."
He dumped the t-shirt on your head and shoved you lightly as you burst into laughter, pulling on the t-shirt before throwing your arms around his neck.
"S'only for you. All for you." He said, carrying you back into bed and wrapping his arms around you, "Always for you."
"Love you, Buck."
"Love you too, Doll."
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lord-squiggletits · 4 months
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One of my favorite parts of phase 2 (and indeed one of the few moments I resonated with IDW Prowl) was when the neutrals were coming back to Cybertron and Prowl said that he refused to let Autobots be pushed aside and overruled after they were the ones who fought for freedom for 4 million years (the exact wording escapes me atm).
And I mean, that resentment still holds true even once the colonists come on bc like. As much as it's true that Cybertron's culture is fucked up, and as funny as it can be to paint Cybertronians as a bunch of weirdos who consider trying to kill someone as a common greeting not important enough to hold a grudge over.... The colonists POV kind of pissed me off a lot of times, as did the narrative tone/implications that Cybertronians are forever warlike and doomed to die by their own hands bc it just strikes me as an extremely judgemental and unsympathetic way to deal with a huge group of people with massive war PTSD and political/social tensions that were rampant even before the war?
Like, imagine living in a society rife with bigotry and discrimination where you get locked into certain occupations and social strata based on how you were born. The political tension is so bad there's a string of assassinations of politicians and leaders. The whole planet erupts into an outright war that leads (even unintentionally) to famine and chemical/biological warfare that destroys your planet. Both sides of the war are so entrenched in their pre-war sides and resentment for each other that this war lasts 4 million years and you don't even have a home planet any more. Then your home planet gets restored and a bunch of sheltered fucks come home and go "ewww why are you so violent?? You're a bunch of freaks just go live in the wilderness so that our home can belong to The Pure People Who Weren't Stupid And Evil Enough To Be Trapped In War" and then a bunch of colonists from places that know nothing about your history go "lol you people are so weird?? 🤣🤣 I don't get why y'all are fighting can't you just like, stop??? Oh okay you people are just fucked up and evil and stupid then" ((their planets are based on colonialism where their Primes wiped out the native populations btw whereas the Autobots and OP in particular fought to save organics. But that never gets brought up as a point in their favor)) as if the damage of a lifetime of war and a society that was broken even before the war can just magically go away now that the war is over.
Prowl fucking sucks but he was basically the only person that pointed out the injustice of that.
And then from then on out most of the characters from other colonies like Caminus and wherever else are going "i fucking hate you and your conflicts" w/ people like literal-nobody Slide and various Camiens getting to just sit there lecturing Optimus about how Cybertronians are too violent for their own good and how their conflicts are stupid, with only brief sympathetic moments where the Cybertronians get to be recognized as their own ppl who deserve sympathy before going right back to being lambasted.
Like I literally struggled to enjoy the story at multiple points because there was only so much I could take of the characters I knew and loved being raked over coals constantly while barely getting to defend themselves or be defended by the narrative so like. It was just fucking depressing and a little infuriating to read exRID/OP
#squiggposting#and like dont get me wrong barber wasnt trying to make cybertronians the bad guys or whatever#it's just a problem with his writing where like. he has A Message he wants to send#and so he uses the entire story literally just for The Message even if it involves bullshit plotlines#or familiar characters ppl were reading about for the past decade being shit on by OCs made up to fill a new roster#like barber's writing tends to lean way too much on a sort of lecturing tone#without giving proper care towards including moments where characters get to like. fucking express themselves and share their side#sort of like how barber couldnt be bothered to write pyra magna and optimus actually talking to each other during exrid#and instead during OP ongoing pyra is suddenly screaming about how OP is unteachable#even tho she never even tried to teach him bc she and OP never interacted bc i guess barber couldnt be bothered#he just needed someone to lecture OP so fuck making the story make sense or like letting OP get to say anything in defense#this is the infuriating part of barber's writing bc i think he has incredible IDEAS and was in charge of the lore i was most interested in#but most of the time his execution sucks and he's basically just mid with a few brilliant moments occasionally#or like he has a message about the cycle of violence he wants to convey#but his narrative choices trying to convey that theme made his story come off as super unsympathetic to the ppl who suffered#to the point where barber actively kneecapped some scenes that couldve been super fucking intense and emotional#in favor of the characters lecturing each other or some stupid plot to criticize OP#that time in unicron where windblade screamed about how this is their fault and then arcee replied that her planet is build on coloniation#shouldve happened more often than literally the last series of the ocntinuity. like goddamn stfu about your moral superiority#when your own sins are right fhere lol
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I couldn’t reblog the og post bc ig Tumblr’s ruined the code, so this is a copy of it. Please give credit to the og posters.
milf-percy
It dosen't really matter that Percy isn't hurt by Annabeth insulting him all the time and sometimes even being physically violent to him(he should be because that's a realistic response from an abuse and bullying survivor but i digress),not just because he's a fictional character and not a real person with free will,but also because that's Annabeth's way of showing she fucking hates him.Her treatment of him has literally not changed since they were 12 yet nobody in this dumbass fandom can shut up about how ~developed~ their relathionship is cause they make out now and are planning on having a dysfunctional cishet marriage while trashing the characters of color for being 'annoying'.
Percy and Annabeth are not 'made for eachother' because Rick wrote everyone in-universe as telling them that and i'd like to remind y'all that this is the same guy who wrote Luke,an adult serial abuser and ped0phile,as a 'hero' because of the Great Prophecy.Destiny means jack shit and Annabeth and Percy-ESPECIALLY Percy,who's been doomed to trauma over and over again despite his best efforts to escape it-should've been allowed to choose who to love instead of having it shoved down their throats by both everyone in their franchise and the creepy weirdos in the fandom too
@southasianpercy
chaoticcerise
Hi! As someone with ADHD who's been in several abusive relationships before, I figured I'd add something about why it IS actually realistic that he doesn't appear hurt, but that's actually even more alarming. So it starts with meeting them (obviously) and especially if they don't really have any healthy romantic IRL relationships to compare it to (which the books go out of their way to emphasize that this is the case) then it can be really hard to notice when red flags like that start to come up. "Oh it'll get better!" "They're still adjusting to it!" All of which are valid! There's healthy relationships that start rough and there's relationships that start really well and then something happens that doesn't go super well and it turns bad real quick. I've been in a few of both. The problem comes when it still happens after they're asked to stop, which is what happens in Percy Jackson. This can lead to things like "Oh they're just kidding, surely they don't mean it!" "Oh that's just how they flirt/show they love me!" Which, again, is fine IF IT'S WELCOME. However if it's not then eventually it's "Oh they're just like that." "Oh it's fine I guess, it's not like I can stop it." Just because someone doesn't complain doesn't mean that they're consenting. It means they're resigned to the abuse. And that means that he's internalizing and normalizing it. "We don't hear any real negativity towards Annabeth in Percy's thoughts though!!!" Well no but we don't hear any love either. We don't ever hear any thoughts about her really ever. Nothing about how pretty she is or how cool she is or anything. Percy Jackson has thoughts about EVERYONE. As someone with ADHD, this level of no thoughts is concerning and no basis for a relationship. He deserves someone who will treat him well. She deserves someone who thinks about her fondly. Both of them deserve better but they both need to undergo some character development and serious therapy first.
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