arathejedi394

[arathejedi394]

me: secret, unathorized Russian bunker -- google docs: unathorized is an unrecognized word me: bro google docs: i have no idea what this word is supposed to be me: broski,,, c'mon,,, it's one letter,,, google docs: is this word from another planet?

[arathejedi394]

dean winchester: angels aren't real later, the officiant at his wedding: dean winchester do you take this angel of the lord, castiel, as your lawfully(ish) wedded husband?

[arathejedi394]

snippet from these days act three

“Jamesy!” Bucky hears a weak voice yelling.

(Sarah perks up. “Hester Barnes!” she shouts.)

Bucky straightens up and grimaces. Steve, the only one still in the vestibule with him, makes eye contact with him and starts laughing silently.

“Shuddup,” Bucky snaps immediately.

“I’m calling your kid Jamesy,” Steve hisses, then just walks out and leaves Bucky standing there dumbstruck, wondering if that meant Steve wanted to keep the baby after all.

“Jamesy!” Momi calls again, hobbling into the doorway of the vestibule with her four-pronged cane and touch pole, and Bucky is shaken from his reverie; Shadow, her guide dog, trots along behind her. “Come and gimme a kiss, champ!”

“Hi, Momi,” Bucky says, shrugging off his coat. Momi raises a frail arm and Bucky walks up to give her a careful hug and a kiss on the cheek. “How are you?”

“Wonderful!” Momi answers, raising her arm and patting through the air for a second before grabbing his cheek and pinching it with surprising strength for a ninety-three-year-old woman; Bucky winces. “Now that I’ve seen my favorite grandson!”

Bucky sighs. “I’m your only grandson, Momi.”

“I know,” Momi chuckles.

(“He got Steve pregnant!” Sarah hisses to her. “They’re in love, they should get married, and they should tell each other they love each other so I can stop haunting your grandson!”)

“Mama, don’t you be hoggin’ my child!” Bucky’s mother calls from inside the house. “An’ get in here ‘fore you catch a cold!”

(“Your grandson made your next great-grandbaby in my baby!” Sarah yells at Hester.)

Momi nods and mumbles under her breath, something about impatient Irish women for some reason Bucky’s unaware of, as she starts shuffling to turn around. 

(“I know you can hear me!” Sarah shouts, chasing after her.)

[arathejedi394]

"Great, unknown spirit, living with us still, Though three long centuries have marked thy flight; Is there a land thy presence doth not fill A race to which thou hast not brought delight? To me Armenia seems thy house, for first, Thy visions there enthralled my wondering mind, And thy sweet music with my heart conversed– Armenia in thy every scene I find. Through all the gloom of strife and agony Thy gentle light, beloved of all, doth shine; The nations bring their tribute unto thee, To honour thee thy country’s foes combine. What token shall my poor Armenia bring? No golden diadem her brow adorns; All jewelled with tears, and glistening, She lays upon thy shrine her Crown of Thorns."

- Zabelle Boyajin, Armenia’s Love to Shakespeare

[arathejedi394]

also me: YO WHO THE FUCK GONNA TALK ABOUT THE KURDS?

me: as an armenian i feel alienated from all other cultural and "racial" groups from the isolation of being a diaspora member seeing other armenians being called terrorists en masse watching the genocide that started way before the turks began their "official" pogroms in 1915 being continued to this day and Armenian voices crying out for the pain and anguish to end being ignored I even feel alienated from my own heritage bc I have to scrape and claw for primary sources saving my country's history prior to colonization by Christians in the fucking 3rd century AD a fucking 1,000 years before my people developed their first written language somewhere which got famous some two thousand years before that, at least 3,000 years of passing down every piece of information and history and community orally and once they were written down that was long after all our oral histories got christianized I feel like my ancestors are rapidly being whitewashed and my culture is being erased by the second I feel like all the words I know are foreign to me and I can't explain the grief I feel knowing relatives just three or four generations ago are stacked into mass graves that my aunt as a child stood in a line with all her village and when the bullets passed over her head she played dead through the soldiers ripping her earrings from her ears some rando on the internet: hey you can't feel that way you're white you're a white European like every other privileged white Armenian person it doesn't matter if lots of you got legally excommunicated by the very understanding ottoman empire from your homelands a hundred years ago and half your country was conquered by them by that time stop claiming cultural trauma like that bad ara you're racist me: i the supporters of the ongoing armenian genocide: HA take that terrorist

[arathejedi394]

me: as an armenian i feel alienated from all other cultural and "racial" groups from the isolation of being a diaspora member seeing other armenians being called terrorists en masse watching the genocide that started way before the turks began their "official" pogroms in 1915 being continued to this day and Armenian voices crying out for the pain and anguish to end being ignored I even feel alienated from my own heritage bc I have to scrape and claw for primary sources saving my country's history prior to colonization by Christians in the fucking 3rd century AD a fucking 1,000 years before my people developed their first written language somewhere which got famous some two thousand years before that, at least 3,000 years of passing down every piece of information and history and community orally and once they were written down that was long after all our oral histories got christianized I feel like my ancestors are rapidly being whitewashed and my culture is being erased by the second I feel like all the words I know are foreign to me and I can't explain the grief I feel knowing relatives just three or four generations ago are stacked into mass graves that my aunt as a child stood in a line with all her village and when the bullets passed over her head she played dead through the soldiers ripping her earrings from her ears some rando on the internet: hey you can't feel that way you're white you're a white European like every other privileged white Armenian person it doesn't matter if lots of you got legally excommunicated by the very understanding ottoman empire from your homelands a hundred years ago and half your country was conquered by them by that time stop claiming cultural trauma like that bad ara you're racist me: i the supporters of the ongoing armenian genocide: HA take that terrorist

[arathejedi394]

these days bucky: does anything ghost of sarah rogers haunting him: you absolute twat later in the afterlife, bucky: does anything sarah: you absolute twat bucky: ???

[arathejedi394]

another tiny crack fic

Tony's falling asleep on his fist sitting at the breakfast counter in the Avengers common room, eyes unfocused on Steve's ass in his loose lounge pants. He's huddled over his coffee cup and breathing steam.

"Where are the potatoes!" he groans.

"Be patient!" Steve snaps back at him without looking. "Hangover breakfasts take time!"

"I'm never drinking again," Clint mutters. "No more truth or dare. Wait..."

He jumps up and runs up, the bathroom door slamming behind him. Sam removes the icepack from his forehead.

"I was about to use it," he mutters.

Tony's attention shifts to Barnes as he enters. He looks positively murderous. Tony hastily averted his gaze.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Barnes snaps at Steve.

"The guys are all hungover, they wanted me to make breakfast," Steve answers.

"And that justifies skipping out on your morning chores how?" Barnes demands.

Steve just flips a hashbrown patty. Barnes growls, then before Tony knows what he's doing, he's ripping Steve away from the stove with a hand on his shoulder.

"What --" Sam starts.

Barnes ignores him, grabs Steve by the hair and then --

"What," Tony also says as Barnes dips Steve over his knee and starts kissing him on the mouth like he needs CPR.

"Huh?" Sam exhales.

Clint comes out of the bathroom. He points to Steve slowly draping his arms around Barnes's neck with a leg kicked up as Barnes snogs the life out of him. Natasha walks in, nose buried in a magazine. Tony, Sam, and Clint are are gawping at Barnes and Steve.

Barnes lets Steve up. "Next time," he says, straightening Steve by his shoulders, "suck my dick before you go making breakfast for your hungover friends."

"WHAT!" Tony yells.

"Sorry, Daddy," Steve answers.

Tony faints. He is unaware of himself hitting the floor. Sam and Clint shriek and shout like the Kansas City Chiefs just won the Super Bowl. Natasha looks up from her gossip rag.

"What?" she asks.

"DID YOU NOT JUST SEE THAT?!" Clint yells.

"So?" Natasha asks. "I've seen it before."

She walks away. Barnes turns around and glares at Clint and Sam.

"Quit draggin' him outta bed 'fore I've gotten my morning BJ," he warns, then just leaves.

Steve has gone back to cooking like nothing's happened. Sam and Clint just continue gawking. Tony comes to himself, sits up, and looks around.

"I just dreamt I saw Cap get kissed by the Winter Soldier," he says, "and Cap called him Daddy."

"You didn't dream it," Steve answers.

Tony faints again.

[arathejedi394]

dean: do you know how long it's been since I last got my ass railed properly sam: uhh last night?? when you left with that dude??? I'm guessing? dean: i said properly that guy's dick was small sam: i'm going to go throw up

best dean and sam combo is raging faggot dean and suffering "homophobe" sam fight me

[arathejedi394]

pls continue sending me hate anons the turks would approve of your attitude high fives everybody

[arathejedi394]

*big hugs*

thank you

[arathejedi394]

best dean and sam combo is raging faggot dean and suffering "homophobe" sam fight me

[arathejedi394]

throwback to the time some people i thought were friends decided to defame me over being too white-passing and a CSA victim, bc they all denied my middle eastern ancestry as being practically white and surely I could not have experienced CSA bc I hadn't told them about it before.

yeah. i definitely was not traumatized as a child by sexual advancements and comments bc I just never mentioned the serious things to these people. obviously, since they had never heard about it, I never experienced it. jesus the satisfaction and rage I still feel when remembering telling my former beta whom I was extremely close with "yeah I was [reacted] at age [redacted] no I never told you bc it's fucking trauma" and them reeling like "oh shit my assumptions were wrong but I must double down." like I can't imagine telling someone who says they were sexually abused as a child that they're making it up for attention. or that their mental illness symptoms are all fake bc I just want more attention. like can you imagine dozens of people who you thought were your friends being duped by one person into believing you're a liar that you claim trauma that isn't yours and you have zero ancestral/racial trauma despite you being a 3rd generation American after your great grandparents fled genocide. imagine being told the genocide your family survived is meaningless bc you look too white and so when other people are talking about their generational/ancestral/racial trauma you should stay shut up and the genocide your family survived doesn't count bc your family is too white. too white and from the far middle east mind. like don't get me started on how people from the middle east and north Africa like morocoo are told by people of color that they're white and white people telling them they're people of color. we're not white enough and too white at the same time so therefore our struggles are to be belittled. like damn no wonder I'm still in weekly therapy and I can't trust hardly anyone.

i would name names but the last time I didn't name names these people accused me of threatening them. (that's right, I never named names. i only ever infer to them and in the past they've taken my non-specific references as threats. and they might see this post as a threat. i dare them.) for exposing their harmful behavior. yeah. it's racist to accuse people of manipulating you to the point of abuse when you're too white to have your non-white ancestry acknowledged and resepected. and you can't have [specific mental symptom] if you didnt' know what to call it until a person you thought was a friend starts describing the exact same thing. yeah if your friend has a symptom you've had since childhood but didn't know what to call you can't have that symptom after all. bc your friend already has it, and if you have it, that's rude. you should stop being white-passing, instead be 100% white, forget you were ever a victim of CSA, and kill your mental symptoms so said friend who also has the same thing will feel less uncomfortable with you. bc you're in the wrong, in every direction. your honesty was your downfall.

the longing i have for wishing i was smart enough to report them to their jobs when it happened is strong. bc two of them were working in mental health and I could have called their bosses and confessed everything they did. like damn. you decimated my reputation, I lost significant income, and you won. i hate that.

[arathejedi394]

fyi twinks can be fat bc all peoples can be fat. saying a twink must be skinny is like saying a twink must be pale. you're just rudely excluding people who have every right to claim that label for themselves, too

[arathejedi394]

hi

so a little while ago in an ao3 note I mentioned my grandma not doing well. of my grandparents, both of my grandfathers died before I was 10, but my two grandmothers lived past that. I'm talking about my mom's mom in this post. my dad's mom passed away semi-unexpectedly about 2 or 3 years ago, and she was the ideal grandma. mom's mom died about a month ago. my mother and I were driving from our home state to hers the day it happened, we had maybe 40% of the trip completed and my uncle called to say it had happened. this grandma was racist, homophobic, transphobic, all the bad things you could think of. and she was mean. i lived with her for 6 months back in 2018 with the intention of making her life easier but what she did was make my mental illnesses worse. nothing I did for her was worthy of even a "you completed the task as instructed." she was 110% probably abused growing up bc her father did the nasty to my mother when she was a child, so no doubt he did it to my grandma, first. she survived breast cancer. she raised my mother who finished a master's degree in math shit. she failed to protect my mother from her father. it was my fucking luck that he died before I was born, even though I doubt my mother would have let him near me, and even still, what he did to my mother caused her to accidentally abuse me in a nasty way. i grew up assured in my place as her least favorite grandchild. and i was the grandchild to do the most for her; my two cousins who lived nearby would visit her, but for six months I was her maid and personal punching bag. i never made it out of last place despite that. i have a lot of conflicted feelings. i think about how I idolized her as a child and the next second remember her talking to a friend about the dark dangerous path her friend's granddaughter was going on by being a lesbian. i never came out to her, while the rest of my family I allowed to know. i let her see my beard a few times near the end, but she kept commenting that I should shave it off no matter how much I said I liked it.

and yannow the worst part? nothing to do with my grandmother's choices. my mother and her brother both had daughters in 1999 (one was me) but my uncle had one first and he picked the name of a family member. but my mother had been meaning to use that name for her first "daughter" (sike on her she has no daughters now just 2 1/2 sons plus 1/2 unholy offspring) so 10 months after my cousin's birth she named me the exact same thing. so I grew up knowing I was just the knock-off version of a granddaughter to my grandma. that her first granddaughter would always be better at everything bc I was the knockoff. i grew up as a matched set with "this one is always the 2nd place option" printed on my forehead. and I always felt that that was how my grandma saw me. always the last choice and always not enough compared to my cousin with the same fucking name. i managed one (1) feat big enough to satisfy her to the point where she talked about it regularly, and that was p u b l i s h i n g a n e n t i r e b o o k. oh other grandkid got an A on one test? celebrate. me, publishes an entire book, gets a review from fucking Hank Green?that's worth a thumbs up. a few brags to friends. not that much in the long run.

i don't know how to feel about her death. I'm thinking of trying to contact her using my spirit board and pendulum, but I'm not sure. she had no idea who I was. all she ever knew was the generic brand version of her ideal granddaughter. part of me wants to call her up and gloat over all the things I became that she hated, how it's fulfilling my life and brings me joy and she was wrong about. or try to actually connect with her for the first time now that she's had her beliefs about Christianity destroyed that maybe she'll be more willing to listen with that having happened. part of me thinks she's probably been reincarnated as something so low she won't be able to talk to me. some part of me just never wants to find out. idk.

[arathejedi394]

throwback to the time i was living in a college dorm. one day came home through the living room to find my bedroom door locked when I never locked it bc my roommate wasn't the snooping kind. later woke up at 3am to the sound of one of my dresser drawers opening. slowly. to its full extant. and all I did was say "fuck off" and go back to sleep. nothing else happened after that.

[arathejedi394]

if you enjoy my writing it would be awesome if you could hit me up on ko-fi! I'm working on some new fics, very gratuitously smutty, so keep an eye on your inboxes!