#“I AM GOING TO KILL YOU AND MYSELF!!!”

[aquaticmercy]

Sleeper

Summary : When Bucky falls in love with the antihero he’s sleeping with, he offers her a place in the Thunderbolts*.

Pairing : Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x antihero!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Violence, death, sex (a prominent theme but not graphic), cursing. Borderline obsessive behaviour. Congressman Barnes as per the Thunderbolts teaser. Batman/Catwoman-like dynamic. (Let me know if I miss anything.)

Word count : 6.5k

Note : This fic was genuinely written because of the van scene in the Thunderbolts trailer. That’s it. That’s how down bad I am for Thunderbolts Bucky. Reader is an antihero called ‘Sleeper.’ The Thunderbolts are referred to as ‘the team.’ The reader and Bucky first met a little bit before FATWS. I also have a cap! Sam fic coming out soon because my god. I am drooling over these two. Enjoy!

Bucky first heard of your existence in whispers.

He had heard your codename in hushed tones when he got off the ice in Wakanda, after Shuri helped rid his brain of the trigger words that haunted him.

Several of the Dora Milaje had crossed paths with you in Ivory Coast, and they had told everyone in the palace about how terrifyingly efficient—and violent— you had been. They said you finished the job before they even got there.

Your codename was nothing but silent rumours by those on the fringes of the intelligence community. They called you ‘Sleeper’— it wasn't a name you chose for yourself, but you have chosen to embrace the fear that people associated with it. 

You were an antihero, a vigilante who left rivers of blood in your wake.

Four years ago, you started tracking down the same corrupt officials and Hydra remnants that Bucky was trying to arrest.

The difference: Bucky set out to turn them in, you had your heart set on killing them, fast and efficient, as you always have been.

The first time you crossed paths with the former Winter Soldier, it was in a crumbling KGB safehouse in Eastern Europe. Bucky had taken down most of the guards, ready to haul the high-ranking operative to a jail cell in DC where he can await his trial. He was tired, the strain of therapy and sleepless nights holding him down, but this mission kept him focused.

But when he reached the operative’s office, the target was already slumped over his desk, cold and lifeless. 

"Guess I beat you to it, soldier," you said, voice laced with a confidence that made his stomach twist. You let him process the sight of you—fitted black suit, gloved hands, and a smirk that told him you were not only dangerous, but damn well aware of it. A mask obscured your eyes, but even with half of your face covered, he could see how smug you looked.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” he said, voice low.

“Good thing I wasn’t asking for you permission.” You tilted your head, the ghost of a laugh in your voice. You were watching him, sizing him up with those sharp eyes that felt like they could through see every part of him he tried to keep hidden. 

“Sergeant James Barnes, right?” You said his name with a familiarity that sent a jolt through him. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Never thought I’d actually run into you, though. Lucky night for me.”

He narrowed his eyes, not trusting this mysterious stranger, though he couldn’t deny he was intrigued. “And you are…?”

“I have no name to claim for myself,” you shrugged, leaning back against the wall, “but people call me Sleeper.” You let the name linger, knowing he’d recognize it. 

His memory reeled back to Ayo and the Dora Milaje, who had warned him of you: ruthless, volatile. A ghost who disappeared without a trace, always a step ahead. He’d just never expected Sleeper to be… so easy on the eyes.

“I didn’t ask for your help.” He repeated with no conviction. He narrowed his eyes at the body. “Especially not like this.”

You shrugged, pushing off the wall and strolling over. “Relax, soldier,” your gaze met his, “I only go after the ones who deserve it. Just because I do it my way doesn’t mean I’m the villain here.”

“Still doesn’t make it right,” he muttered, but there was a flicker of curiosity underneath his stormy blue eyes.

“Then stop me,” you challenged softly, leaning close enough to feel his breath. “If you can.”

His breath hitched ever so slightly.

You grinned, a spark of intrigue lighting up in your gaze. “I’ll be waiting, James.”

And before he could respond, you were gone.

He knew he should’ve stopped you— but some part of him was glad he hadn’t. 

As you disappeared, he felt something he hadn’t in a long, long time: excitement.

—

From that day on, Bucky couldn’t get you out of his head. 

At first, it was frustrating. You were hard to track, ruthless—and yet there was a sickening righteous principle to your actions that he couldn’t deny.

As the weeks went by, something else rooted in his brain when he thought of you. Fascination. 

His mind often wandered about you during his quiet, sleepless nights, wondering who you were beneath the mask, beneath the mystery and the whispers.

Sam noticed, of course. He'd raise an eyebrow whenever Bucky lingered too long over case files where you'd been mentioned. He’d nudge if he seemed overly eager to volunteer for missions that involved your typical targets.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll show,” Sam teased once, nudging Bucky. “She’s dangerous, though. Is that your type?”

Bucky scoffed, but he knew Sam was right. And maybe that danger was part of what kept him intrigued.

—

The next time you crossed paths, it was in a dark alleyway, both of you dripping with sweat and breathing heavily after taking down an underground fighting ring. 

“You know,” he’d said, “killing them doesn’t make it justice.”

“You think turning them in is enough?” Your voice had cut through the air like a knife, but there was no malice behind it. You wanted him to understand your line of thinking, wanted him to know. “People like them are everywhere. They’ll get out. They’ll come back.”

“So you think you get to decide whether they live or die?” he challenged, jaw tight.

“No,” you said, readjusting your mask. “But I do it anyway.��� There was a flicker of sadness in your gaze that he noticed, even if you tried to hide it.

What had happened to you? He thought to himself. What have you been through?

In that moment, he noticed the pain behind your eyes, the kind of pain he knew intimately. You weren’t just someone who killed for vengeance; you must have had your reasons. You must have carried scars that ran deep, maybe deeper than his.

—

From that point on, Bucky made it a habit to look for you on every mission. It was like an unspoken game, this cat-and-mouse chase. Every time he saw you, the tension between you grew. 

Sometimes, he’d get there first, managing to intercept before you could execute the target. Other times, you’d arrive at the same time. He’d try to talk you out of it, to make you see things his way, but you’d laugh him off, the kind of laugh that hinted at more than your fair share of heartache. 

And sometimes, you’d tease him, push boundaries he wasn’t sure he should cross.

“You like this, don’t you, James?” You’d whisper it low, close enough for him to catch your scent, a faint hint of gunpowder and vanilla perfume. “The chase. Getting to play the hero while I get my hands dirty.”

He wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t. 

—

Bucky grew obsessed, even if he wouldn’t admit it. Every encounter left him more and more drawn to you. He’d search for files on you for days on end without sleep, but all he found were reports with no concrete evidence. He found himself looking for excuses to track your movements, hoping he’d be there to stop you but not quite sure he wanted to succeed.

One night, after another close call, you leaned into him as he pushed you up against the wall. He could feel the heat radiating off you, the electricity charged in the space between you. You looked up at him, the smallest hint of vulnerability peeking through your mask.

“Why do you keep doing this, James?” you asked, voice softer this time. “You can’t save me.”

“Maybe not,” he replied, frowning as his eyes looked down to the edge of your lips, “but I can try.”

That night, he wondered just how long he could keep up this dance before one of you finally gave in.

—

One night, while you were on a caper in Prague, everything changed for the two of you. 

The mission had been bloody, chaotic, and a little too close to mayhem for Bucky’s liking. You had taken down an entire network of arms dealers, setting fire to one of their last remaining munitions blocks and leaving it to burn. 

Bucky had arrived too late, frantically trying to contain the chaos you’d left in your wake, alerting local authorities, making sure the flames didn’t spread to a nearby market.

When he caught up to you, adrenaline ran hot through his veins. 

He'd followed you through winding streets and up dark staircases, up to the hotel you were holed up in. He followed you into your room, locking you both in.

His voice was tight, anger simmering beneath. “You’re careless.” His blue eyes were striking underneath the european moonlight, “you could’ve taken out half the neighbourhood, and for what?”

“I got the job done, James.” You shrugged, trying to look unbothered. “It’s not pretty, but it works.”

He stepped closer, and you held his gaze, “You know, I’d turn you in if you weren’t so…” he paused, his voice faltering, as if the words were lodged in his throat, “Weren’t so…”

Your pulse quickened. “If I weren’t so what?” You snapped, daring him to finish, to admit what had been hanging between you two since the day you met.

But he didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled you into a fierce, bruising kiss.

You didn’t hesitate—you kissed him back with just as much fire, your hands tangling in his hair.

Bucky’s hands found your waist, fingers digging in with enough pressure to leave marks. He pushed you back until your shoulders hit the wall, lips moving down your jaw, then hot against your neck. His breaths were ragged, matching your own, and he was holding you as if letting go would mean losing control entirely. 

You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips as his mouth found a sensitive spot on the dip in your collarbone, his hands roaming possessively over your back, down your sides.

You pulled him back to your mouth, desperately needing that connection. 

When you finally broke apart for air, his forehead rested against yours. You untied your mask and threw it across the room.

Fuck. he thought as his eyes widened, taking in your full facial features for the first time. You were even more beautiful than I imagined you to be. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he thought to himself, I’m done for.

He was ready to throw you in jail cell. Instead, he ended up in your bed.

That night, in the dim light of your cheap hotel room, clothes were shed in hurried, frustrated movements, and all that pent-up tension finally found its release.

That first time had been desperate, raw. Both of you were driven by the need to let go, to feel something other than the weight of the cold blooded kills and the darkness you both carried.

Ever since then, every time you crossed paths, it was the same: adrenaline-fueled clashes and heated conversations about morality turned into hotel room rendezvous, hands grasping, lips colliding, both of you seeking the kind of solace you could only ever find in each other. 

—

You’d never admitted it out loud, but Bucky had an effect on you. When he was around, you found yourself hesitating just that split second longer before slicing your target’s arteries and leaving them to bleed.

You didn’t feel the need to wipe out every enemy anymore, and his disapproval of your methods had started haunting you in ways you’d never expected. Maybe that was why you’d started allowing him to find you more often, taking on jobs you knew he’d be there for. 

It was a dangerous game, but you kept playing it. He was obsessed with finding you, and you weren’t about to stop him.

He’d learned to read you better, your patterns, the places you tended to show up. By the time you landed in some city on the opposite end of the globe, he’d be there like clockwork, showing up right before you finished a job, confronting you before you could disappear into the night.

But the nights you spent together were… different. 

You never asked about each other’s pasts; you kept it in the here and now, keeping him at a safe distance even as you let him pull you under the covers time and again.

Every time he asked your real name, you’d smile and brush him off, deflecting his curiosity with a kiss or a teasing answer. He didn’t press, but you could see the questions in the way his brow furrowed, could feel the affection in the way he lingered in the mornings after, with a soft smile in his eyes that made your heart beat faster.

Each time, he told himself it was just catharsis, just a release of frustration for both of you, nothing more. But that excuse had worn thin over the years, and Bucky knew it as well as you did. 

He knew it wasn’t one sided either. He wasn’t blind to the way you’d look at him as he drifted to sleep next to you. Once, he caught a flicker of something vulnerable in your eyes before you put the walls back up. 

And God, was he drawn to you, to the side of you that fought so fiercely, that showed just enough vulnerability to keep him coming back. He was so fucking desperate to understand you better, to see more of the person underneath the mask.

—

One night, after a mission in Manila, you’d both ended up in a small, worn-down cheap hotel room overlooking the city lights. You were leaning against the headrest of the bed, a hint of sweat clinging to your skin, breathing still unsteady as you came down from the high you gave each other.

He watched you, his gaze lingering on the barely-perceptible rise and fall of your chest. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, voice thick with exhaustion. There was a tremor in your tone, a flicker of something vulnerable that he wasn’t sure you meant for him to hear.

“Like what?” he asked, nuzzling closer to you. His now long hair was tied back in a low bun, your hair tie holding it together because he didn't have one of his own.

“Like you want something from me that I’m too broken to give,” you said, refusing to meet his eyes. But he reached for you, tipping your chin up until you had no choice but to look at him, and there it was—that flicker of affection he knew ran just as deep in you as it did in him.

“Maybe I want it anyway,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a quiet intensity. “You ever think of that?”

“This is just a release, James.” Your gaze softened for just a second, long enough for him to catch it before you shook your head, pulling yourself from his grasp. “It’s just something we both need.”

Even as you said it, you weren't convinced. He reached for you again, pulling you close, and kissed you because that was the only thing you’d let him do.

You melted into him once more, you found yourself wondering just how much longer you could keep him at arm’s length.

—

The shift in Bucky’s life had been as dramatic as it was unexpected. You’d never pegged him for politics—neither had he, to be fair—but here he was, representing his district, looking sharp in a suit that cost more than the last few hotels you’d met in combined. 

He’s upgraded. Freshly elected, polished up, all suited and respectable as a congressman, fighting for reform from a marble office by day and for justice in dark alleys by night. 

But tonight, with that half-smile he only gets with you, he’s still the same— still carrying that simmering tension in his lips, his hair tousled from a long night of pursuing you through the shadows. 

After a mission that had you both knee-deep in an abandoned bunker hunting a rogue assassin, you found yourself together once again. Only this time, the hotel he’d booked was far from cheap. 

He brought you to a five-star suite. The bed was massive, the sheets soft, and the view from the window sprawled out over the city skyline, a stark contrast to the dingy rooms you’d gotten used to. 

Now, lying beside him in the rumpled silk sheets, you watched him catch his breath. You moved off of his lap to lay next to him, euphoric from the guilty pleasure you both indulged in. 

“You know, the second someone finds out Congressman Barnes has a relationship with a violent vigilante, you’re out of office.”

He looked over at you, eyebrows raised. “Relationship?”

Fuck. He caught you slipping up. He caught you thinking about a relationship with him.

“Casual sex is still a relationship, James.” You shrugged, trying to save face. You turned to him, with a lazy, unconvinced smile, “Strings attached or not, it counts.”

He shifted, the corner of his mouth twitching as he watched your wall break, even if only one brick at a time. “Casual,” His fingers traced idle patterns along your bare shoulder. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Unless you’re pretending you don’t want it anymore.” You paused, leaning closer, “Or maybe you just like that I could ruin everything. That I could say one word to the press, post one picture online and your reputation is finished. You’d be back to square one.”

He chuckled, his fingers grazing down your arm. It was terrifying, how comfortable he’d become with you. “I trust that you wouldn’t,” he said softly, voice laced with that steady confidence, like he knows you better than you know yourself.

His declaration hung in the air, and you felt guilt striking in your chest.

This wasn’t supposed to be part of this arrangement. Trust was for partners, for couples, for people who wanted things that lasted. 

You shook it off, leaning back, a little smirk tugging at your lips as you lifted a brow. “You’re right. I do have a soft spot for you, Congressman Barnes,” you added, the title rolling off your tongue with a touch of sarcasm, “Consider it my gift to democracy.”

He laughed, letting his head fall back against the pillow. His hand drifted down to catch yours, holding it in a way that felt too natural, too comfortable for what you were supposed to be. 

You both knew, despite the banter and the invisible boundaries, this thing between you was already past casual. It was the reason he keeps showing up where you showed up, the reason you’re letting him into your life in ways you never let anyone before. You were both just too stubborn to say it.

He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours in a way that feels almost… affectionate. For a moment, you let yourself sink into it, forgetting the consequences, the danger, the fact that this man might just unravel you completely and you would have no say in it whatsoever.

When you pulled back, his fingers trailed over your bare waist. “Maybe it’s more than just a soft spot,” he suggested, his voice barely above a whisper.

You raised an eyebrow, heart beating out of your chest. “Let’s not get sentimental, James,” you brushed, letting your fingers graze his jaw as you murmured, “You’ve got an image to protect, after all.”

He lets out a sigh that’s part laughter, part frustration. He knew you were deflecting. “Right,” he said, brushing his lips against yours again. 

“You and your image,” you chuckled, “Out there, shaking hands and making speeches about justice while you sneak off to hotel rooms with someone like me.”

He grinned, not a trace of shame in his expression as he turned his gaze back to you. “Someone’s gotta keep you in line. Even if it takes…” His voice lowered, dropping into that deep, teasing tone that made your stomach knot. “…a hands-on approach.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re the last person who’d ever get me in line, James.” You leaned closer, though you didn't believe a single word you said. 

There was a long silence for a while. He eventually reached out, brushing a lock of hair back from your face, his thumb tracing over your cheek.

“Maybe you’re right,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “Maybe that’s why I keep coming back.”

As the city lights cast a faint glow over the room, you lay there in silence, limbs tangled together in a way that felt a little less no strings attached every time.

—

The next time you meet, you were on a late-night operation on the dark outskirts of the city. You’ve tracked down a group of mercenaries. They’re as ruthless as they were careless, leaving a trail of devastation across the criminal underworld. But tonight, their recklessness will end with you. 

You moved through in silence, precise, methodical. One by one, you took them down, not killing, but incapacitating them. Your fists were quick, your strikes precise. It’s what you’ve done for years, a grim pattern of efficiency that never required a second blow. Just as you reached the man who hired them with your knife drawn—a local crime lord—you felt his presence before you saw him.

“Think twice, Sleeper,” Bucky said from behind you.

You froze, heart pounding as you stood over the crime lord begging for mercy. It would be so easy to end this now, but with Bucky watching, you hesitated.

You lowered the knife.

Instead of killing him, you tied him up alongside the other mercenaries, ignoring the questions in their fearful eyes. Bucky made a call, alerting local authorities to pick up the mess you’ve left behind.

“What now?” you asked, walking away from the carnage. You were expecting the usual pattern: another hotel room, a brief reprieve from the violence, nothing more. 

But he surprised you, lacing his hand in between your fingers, warm and secure. 

He had never, ever, showed affection outside closed doors.

“Come with me.” 

—

You didn’t expect Bucky to take you back to his place, but soon you were standing outside a sleek high-rise in the heart of the city. You followed him up to his penthouse apartment. It’s almost disorienting— the polished floors, the floor-to-ceiling windows.

You found yourself standing in the quiet entryway of his home. The walls were painted in light, earthy tones, and the furniture was clean, modern, yet warm.

You glanced around, taking in the small details that hinted at Bucky's life beyond the missions. There were bookshelves lined with novels and memoirs, some old and looked like first editions, others barely touched. A few black-and-white photographs decorated the walls—New York City at dusk, a forest path, a beach sunset. It was an oddly peaceful place for a man like him. Certainly too peaceful for someone as broken as you.

“This is risky, James,” you said, looking up at him as he closed the door behind him, “Showing me where you live.”

“No, it's not,” he replied, his conviction absolute. “I trust you.”

There it was again. That word. Trust. The thing you never quite knew what to do with, especially coming from him.

You studied the way his favourite leather jacket was tossed on a chair, a half-read book by the couch. It felt like stepping across an invisible line. You set your mask down on the table before he grabbed your waist and pulled you close.

“This feels like crossing a boundary, James,” you admitted. You knew he should pull back, give you a chance to retreat. But you didn't want him to.

So he didn’t.

Instead, he cupped your face as he tilted your chin up gently. “What boundary?” he asked.

He knew that there were nothing separating you two. Not anymore.

The space between you vanished as his lips met yours. You kissed him back, losing yourself in the process of tasting him. His hands slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer. Kissing him felt like falling— like surrender.

You made your way to his bedroom, bodies tangled together, a blur of heated whispers and gasping breaths. Clothes fell away, discarded like old skin. The way he looked at you, it was like he was memorising every inch of you.

In that moment, you realised: the boundary had never been there. Not for him. Maybe not for you either.

—

The room was quiet as you lay tangled up in Bucky’s sheets. The duvet smelled like him, unlike the neutral, sterile scent of the usual hotel sheets. 

You’d never admit it, but it was intoxicating. 

The satisfied pulsing in your body had put a hazy filter over everything. 

Bucky smiled softly, kissing your forehead before reaching to his bedside drawer, pulling out a small glass box, placing it gently on your palm.

"Here," he murmured, almost shyly. He opened the box to reveal a hair tie inside. 

Oh. You recognised it. The ends were a bit frayed, the colour faded.

It was the hair tie you’d given him in Manila, a lifetime ago, a little piece of you that he’d tucked away in a corner of his home

You blinked, caught off guard. "You still have that?"

He shrugged, but his eyes wouldn’t meet yours. Was he… embarrassed? "I thought it was... worth keeping."

"Careful, James,” you couldn't help but tease him, nuzzling closer into his arms. “Keep this up and you might just start falling in love with me."

You felt his breath hitch.

He looked up, finally. Nervously.

Instead of denying it, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, warm whisper. "Would that be so bad?"

His fingers brushed against yours, sending a shiver through your spine. Your heart fluttered irregularly, your head spinning in a daze as you tried to keep your thoughts down.

No.

You couldn’t let him see that he was getting to you like this, so you did what you always did: you deflected, grinning forcefully and rolling your eyes.

"Yeah, right," you said, brushing off the moment. As much as it broke your heart to deny the truth, you were doing it for his sake and yours. "I'm not that easy to love, James."

He chuckled softly, the warmth of his breath brushing your skin as he pulled you closer, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "Maybe that's why I do." 

You shifted away from him, wrapping yourself in the sheets as if they could shield you from what he was offering — and from the ache in his gaze. 

"We can’t…" you said, voice barely above a whisper. "We can’t do this."

Bucky's eyes darkened, but he would be alright. He expected this from you.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to collect himself. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between his desire for you and something else… there was something bigger. 

"I need to tell you something," he said quietly. “I have… a team.”

That caught you off guard. 

Bucky? On a team? He’d always seemed like a lone wolf, just like you. 

“There’s a couple of former Widows, who you’d get along with. Two other super soldiers. And someone who can… phase. Quantum experiment gone wrong.” He paused, “We’re trying to make something real here. And it’s missing someone.” His fingers trailed down your forearm, eventually clasping your palm in his, “It’s missing you.”

He pushed a strand of hair behind your ears, trailing your jawline delicately with his metal hand, “I need you.”

The invitation went unanswered for a moment. You swallowed, caught off-guard by how badly he seemed to want this, how he wanted you to be part of it.

“I work alone, James,” you said, brushing off the offer with a small, bitter smile. “You know that.”

“But why not?” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “Why won’t you let someone else in for once?”

The frustration in his tone was raw, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of pain flash across his face from this rejection.

“This is your chance to do something good the right way,” he pressed, and there was a quiet urgency in his voice. “No more hunting down bad guys with no direction. No more living like you’ve got nothing left to lose.”

His words sank in, and your walls felt shakier than ever. The idea of leaving the past behind, of actually building something… you hadn’t let yourself imagine it in years.

“Just think about it,” he said softly, placing his forehead on yours. “You don't have to decide now. Just… consider it.”

You gave a noncommittal shrug, but the truth was that his offer echoed in your mind, louder than you wanted to admit. He smiled at your dismissiveness, recognizing the crack in your armour. He didn’t push further. 

You realised that for the first time in a long time, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to say no.

—

The next time you saw Bucky was in the middle of a mission neither of you had wanted. 

Just a week had passed since you’d spent the night in his apartment. Since then, you had told yourself you shouldn’t return. You couldn’t. You were getting too close, feeling too much.

It was getting dangerous.

But then Bucky had reached out to you, voice tight and desperate, the kind of desperation that stripped away all his pride. It was a vulnerability even you hadn't seen from him before. His team was in over their heads, he’d said. He needed you. 

You’d agreed to help, but you’d been careful to remind him that this was a one-time thing. One mission, and that was it.

But then everything went wrong.

It happened so fast, you barely understood how everything had gone wrong. 

You were with Bucky, fighting side-by-side, the two of you moving as if connected by some invisible thread. 

You had taken a blow, separating you from everyone else. You tried standing up but fuck! The impact had shattered your ankle, sending a searing pain through your leg. Your nerves were on fire in a way they had never been before.

You couldn't move. 

You couldn't get up. Couldn’t run.

And then the ground shifted, an explosion roared from behind, and the next thing you knew, a van was thrown across the road, hurtling straight toward you.

For a single, frozen heartbeat, you realised this was it. 

It was over.

You saw the faces of bystanders staring from the sidewalk, their eyes wide, too horrified to look away. You let go of the cold steel of your knife still gripped in your hand. The acrid taste of smoke on your tongue intensified. And the truck—a wall of twisted metal hurtling closer, closer, impossibly fast.

You’d spent so many years brushing so close to death that you always thought you’d be ready.

But now, all you felt was regret.

Regret that this was how you’d die: in the middle of a cold, empty street, surrounded by strangers who would never remember you, never know who you were or what you’d done. 

Alone. 

You thought of Bucky in those last seconds—his quiet smiles, the way he’d look at you like he could see through every wall you put up, the silent crutch he’d offered without expecting anything in return. Bucky, who’d trusted you, who’d somehow cared for you even after everything you’d done. 

For the first time, you felt regret for every life you’d taken, every person you’d left to die in your wake.

Your life had been nothing but survival and bloodshed. You had told yourself it was necessary, that it was the only way. But here, now, with your own death inches away, it all felt hollow.

You’d given up hope, abandoned the idea of redemption long ago—because you were too broken.

And yet, with Bucky, something had changed. He had looked at you and somehow seen past it all. He’d made you feel as if maybe, just maybe, you were something more than the ghost you’d become. Maybe, instead of running, you could have found a way to fight for something real, something that mattered. 

Maybe you could have been someone better. 

You would never know now.

The world narrowed, and you braced yourself for the inevitable, hoping it would be quick and painless. Your fingers tightened, clinging to the memory of him in those last, precious seconds as you waited to feel the impact—

But it never came.

Instead, there was a rush of air, a deafening crash, and then—silence. You blinked, dazed, your heart still hammering, and when you looked up, Bucky was standing there, his metal arm outstretched, braced against the van that he’d deflected away.

He turned to face you, his expression raw, worry carved deep into his features as he scanned you, checking for injuries. For a moment, he just stared, his breathing uneven, as if he’d been the one facing certain death.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice panicked.

You tried to answer, but the words tangled, caught in your throat. You managed a nod, barely able to process what had just happened. 

“Shit,” he kneeled next to you, “Is your ankle broken, can you walk?”

You stared at him, trembling as he tore a part of his shirt and wrapped it around your injury for support.

Bucky had saved you. He had thrown himself in front of a hurtling vehicle without a moment of hesitation, as if your life were worth that sacrifice. 

He had saved you.

You were alive because of him.

Alive, when you’d already accepted that you were going to die alone.

No one had ever done that for you. No one had ever saved you—not like this, not without asking anything in return. Hell, you never thought that you deserved to be saved.

“You’re okay, Sleeper,” he said, his voice softer now, like he was reassuring himself as much as you. “I’m here.”

His words settled into the cracks that had broken open inside you, filling them in ways you hadn’t thought possible. You hadn’t realised how empty you’d felt until now, how long you’d carried the weight of loneliness, of believing that this life—this endless, solitary fight—was all you deserved. 

Bucky made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to be alone. That maybe, even after all you’d done, there was a place for you outside the shadows.

“Don’t call me that,” your voice trembled, “I don’t want you to call me Sleeper anymore.”

Bucky stopped for a second, confused. “What do you want me to call you, then?”

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. Something inside you broke, raw and vulnerable, and the name you’d hidden for years slipped from your lips before you even realised it. Your real name—your last, fragile piece of self you’d kept locked away, hoping one day you’d be able to reclaim it. 

It felt right with Bucky, like you could trust him with it, like you could let yourself be seen.

Bucky’s eyes widened, his face softening as he repeated it, almost reverent, like he wanted to remember how it felt to say it. 

Hearing him say your name, like a prayer, like it was sacred, like it mattered— tore down whatever walls you had left. He’d given you something you didn’t know you could have: the feeling of belonging to yourself again. The feeling of belonging to the world again.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers shaking. He moved, pulling you closer. His touch was grounding, steady—a lifeline that anchored you to the moment, to this fragile reality where you didn’t have to be alone anymore. 

You pressed your lips to his, but this kiss was different— it wasn't casual or sexual as it has always been. This time, it was gentle, carrying something other than desire, something precious and fragile. 

Something worth nurturing.

When you finally pulled away, he looked at you lovingly. 

“I’ll join you,” you said, the words coming from some deep part of you that had been waiting for someone to give you this chance, this choice.

Now you realised that this choice was yours all along. All you had to do was take it.

And you did, because maybe, instead of running from yourself, you could find a way to make things right. Maybe you could fight for something greater than yourself.

For the first time, wrapped in Bucky’s embrace, you believed that maybe you could be someone worth saving.

—

A month later, you were all gathered around a small campfire, tucked away in a quiet corner of nowhere. 

The night was cool, the fire warm, and laughter bubbled up from the group as you shared bits and pieces of each other's lives. 

“Team bonding,” John had said.

John passed around a nearly empty bag of marshmallows, Alexei poked at the fire, and Yelena and Ava exchanged eye rolls at everyone else’s antics, though they leaned closer together under the same blanket.

Eventually, the conversation drifted, as it often did, to you and Bucky. 

“So… how did the Winter Soldier and Sleeper even meet?” Yelena asked, raising an eyebrow as she threw another marshmallow into her mouth. 

The moniker you had adopted still twisted in your stomach every time you heard it, but it had lost its edge. This time, you felt in control. Like you owned it.

"I have theories,” Alexei nodded, crossing his arms, “but I have to know."

You shared a look with Bucky, a small smile creeping on both your faces. “There was a Hydra agent we were both after.” you began, biting back a frown. “And… well, I was angrier back then.” 

He placed his arm on yours, a comforting gesture.

“You wanted him alive,” you said. “I had… different ideas.”

“After that—” Bucky wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “—She was all I could think about. I kept showing up wherever she was, trying to figure her out.” 

“So basically,” John said, trying to hold back a laugh, “Bucky is a bit of a stalker.”

“A stalker?” Bucky echoed incredulously, “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘dedicated.’” 

“No, no,” Ava interjected, “you followed her everywhere did you not? ‘Stalker’ is the right word, Barnes.”

“Fine,” he admitted jokingly, “But what can I say? It was love at first sight.” 

Yelena gagged theatrically and John clutched his stomach in a fit of laughter.

Alexei just chuckled and muttered something about “American romance.” Ava made a face, disgusted but secretly amused.

You couldn’t help but laugh along with them, leaning against Bucky’s shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, looking down at you with a quiet smile.

In some way, this still felt too good to be real.

For the first time, you realized you’d found exactly what you’d been missing all along. A home. Maybe even the closest thing you’ve ever had to a family.

A place where you belonged.

And you knew, looking at all of them—especially at Bucky—that this was just the beginning.

-end

[reasonreblogs]

Same for both. The thing with explaining the reasons with an apology for me is part of the “I recognize how this action was wrong and how I ended up doing this thing that hurt you. I will be making an effort to stop this behavior. I hope you feel okay calling me out on it going forward. I want to assure you that I am aware of what I did, why I did it, that I am going to be working on it, that this hurt you, and that I’m sorry I did this.”

To me the reasons and why it happened shows that they understand and how likely they are to keep doing the same things or if thy ran it, that kind of thing. I’ve had someone who was basically overdosing on Xanax day spent the most horrible shit to me, hitting every insecurity I had about our friendship and after the fact *not* apologize and just said something like “I didn’t reply mean it, I just said crazy shit because I was prescribed a higher dose of Xanax than a person should be.”

Like… okay, I get that… and… it would mean something if you said “I’m sorry, I know it hurt you and I said a lot of things I knew would hurt most. I didn’t know I was prescribed higher dose than I should’ve been until recently and it really fucked with my head in a way that I wasn’t myself.” Instead, I wasn’t sure if she actually meant what she said looking back or if she’d do it again only without her mind being fucked up.

She gave the reason without the apology which made it an excuse and a “so you can’t be upset with anything I said” when she could scroll back and see exactly the things she said to me even if she didn’t quite remember. However, with an apology, I would be able to believe she didn’t mean it and was in a state of mind where she was actively looking to be as hurtful as possible rather than actually believing hat she said. It’s kind of like how some people go turn out to be suicidal try to make everyone around them hate them before going through with it under the notion it’d “hurt less” when it happens. I think of one or two popular youtubers who did exactly that, posting outrageous bigoted shit before disappearing and after hearing they killed themselves, it clicked that’s what they were doing.

As for the telling a story for how thy relate (as I did above actually lol) it’s like… “listen here’s a thing I went through… to me it sounds like what you’re going through, so I hope what I did to get through it helps or if talking to someone who might understand better makes you feel okay talking about this.”

It’s like… it adds some weight or legitimacy to what the person you’re talking to is saying for me. I’d be more likely to take their advice or reflect on how I handle or perceive it vs how they might have. When someone isn’t grasping at all what you’re saying, it turns into defending why you’re feeling and going through rather than being able to just… talk about it.

Idk, been thinking on the nuance of this for a while. I like reasons, I like getting an idea on if this will happen again or not. There’s just a lot of “depends on the person/situation” tho.

[myth1cs]

Bratty (Shin Ryujin & Hwang Yeji x M!Reader)

Part 2 of Troublemaker (Both of these are smut!! Sorry!!!) Y/N is a brat and Ryujin degrades him (Again) to teach him a lesson Word Count: 2,617

As my eighth period class was about to end the professor suddenly made an announcement to the class.

"Before you all leave I wanted to let you all know that you have the option to work with a partner for this assignment."

When he said that I turned to Yeji.

"Hey, want to work on the assignment together?"

"Yeah sure, what's your phone number?"

After we exchanged phone numbers we went our separate ways. I didn't get far as I suddenly felt someone grab my arm and pull me into an empty classroom.

"What was that Y/N?"

"Ryujin? What are you doing?"

"Don't deflect, now tell me what I just saw."

"I was just getting Yeji's phone number."

"For what Y/N? Are you going over to her house?"

"Yes but only-"

Ryujin cut me off and lightly smacked my cheek. She glared at me with eyes that felt like they would pierce my soul.

"Don't go over to her house."

"Why?"

"Don't act dumb Y/N I know what you plan on doing. You're going to shove your face in between her thighs while your over at her house."

"What, No Ryujin I wont't!"

"Yeah sure, Look Y/N you can listen to me or not. But I warn you that if you disobey me you'll pay for it."

Ryujn left and I was alone in the empty classroom.

I felt excitement as I knew my plan was working.

I always wanted Ryujin to be more dominant and degrade me harder so I had started to ignore her and started to act less excited when having sex with her which I guess is why shes been more possessive over me. She might feel like she's doing something wrong which is probably why she thinks I might be looking for other people.

At Yeji's House

I knocked on the door and waited for a response.

After waiting for a few seconds Yeji opened the door for me.

"Hi Y/N are you ready to start working?"

"Sure am Yeji."

Yeji led me to her room and we started working on the assignment. I took this moment and took a photo of Yeji and sent it to Ryujin.

After a few seconds Ryujin sent me a message but I didn't answer her. Ryujin must've not liked me ignoring her messages as my phone started vibrating constantly but I didn't pay attention to it.

"Y/N is that your phone?"

"Yeah why?"

"I think someone's trying to reach you. It sounds important."

"Don't worry about it Yeji."

I went and put me phone on silent.

"Y/N seriously I think it's important. Why would someone message you so much if it wasn't?"

"No it was just a spam message."

"Oh really? Ugh I hate those."

I started wondering about my next move. But I decided upon something I knew would get Ryujin worked up.

"Hey Yeji I know this is a weird time but would you be my girlfriend?"

"Y/N ... where is this coming from?"

"You, your everything Yeji and I want to be able to have you by my side. So will you be mine?"

"Listen Y/N you're a sweet person now and I'll admit you're kinda cute but I can't just look past everything you've done in the past."

"Yeji I swear I've been working on myself. Please give me this one chance."

Yeji sighed and looked at me. I put my hand over hers and gave it a light squeeze.

"Okay fine Y/N I'll give us a shot."

I kissed Yeji and pulled her into a hug.

"Do you want to take a picture to celebrate us Yeji?"

"Yeah sure let's do it."

I took my phone out and took a picture. After I took it I made sure I sent it to Ryujin. She is so going to kill me but I can't wait for it.

"Let's go back to our work Y/N."

Next Day

As I was heading to my eighth period class I got another text from Ryujin.

Ryujin: "Come to my room NOW"

Ryujin: "You little brat stop ignoring me!"

Ryujin: "Y/N I swear you better not have shoved your face in between Yeji's thighs yesterday!"

I kept ignoring her texts and continued on my way.

When I got into eighth period I sat down but not for long as suddenly the principals voice came over the speakers.

"Y/N make your way to room 304."

"Y/N I thought you said you would work on bettering yourself." Yeji said with a disappointed tone.

"Oh no it's not that Yeji I swear, let me prove it, follow me when I leave and Ryujin will tell you."

I walked out of the classroom and waited. I overheard Yeji ask to use the restroom and she came out of the classroom shortly after.

"Glad you decided to follow me."

I led Yeji to Ryujin's room and we both went inside together.

When we walked in Ryujin started speaking and she sounded pissed off "Y/N you little-"

Ryujin looked shocked when she saw Yeji by my side. She probably only expected me to come.

Ryujin quickly cleared her throat "What brings you here with your friend Y/N?"

"Actually she's my girlfriend."

I could see Ryujin was struggling to keep her smile up "Well that's nice to know."

"So why did you call Y/N here anyways?" Yeji asked.

"I just wanted to tell him I was so proud of him. He hasn't been written up and his grades are improving at a rapid rate."

"Thank you Ryujin that means a lot coming from you." I smiled at Ryujin when I said that and I could tell she wanted to have her way with me.

"Come on Yeji let's go back."

After School

As I was walking home I got another text from Ryujin

Ryujin: "Come over to my house. I'll rehabilitate you and knock that bratty behavior out of you."

I knew I had Ryujin where I wanted her so I made my way over to her house. When I arrived I went ahead and knocked on the door. No one opened and I was about to knock again but then I got another text from Ryujin.

Ryujin:"It's unlocked, come upstairs to my room."

I opened the door and made my way to Ryujin's room.

"Hello?"

"Come in!"

When I opened the door Ryujin quickly shoved me into a wall.

"Y/N you better have a damn good explanation for yourself!"

I started giggling and tried to kiss her but Ryujin smacked me.

"I don't want your filthy mouth touching my perfect face. Now tell me what the fuck you've been doing. Was I just a sex toy for you? Do you think you can do better than me?!"

"Ryujin I just wanted you to degrade me more that's all. You're perfect I would never replace you for Yeji."

Ryujin started laughing and looked at me with eyes that I was too familiar with.

"So you want to play that game huh Y/N? Well I'll show you what happens to brats like you."

Ryujin stripped naked and shoved me to the bed.

"I thought you said you were only my slut but it turns out you lied to me. And you should know that I hate liars Y/N."

"W-wait! Ryujin what are you doing!"

Ryujin grabbed a rope she had lying on the floor. She started to tie my hands to the bed frame preventing me from moving.

"Okay Ryujin I get it I won't be a brat anymore!"

"Well that's no fun is it Y/N?"

Ryujin pulled my pants down and my erected cock sprung out. Ryujin spat on it and started to pump it.

"Y/N look at your filthy cock. It's so sad you get turned on so easily. You're nothing but a sad degenerate."

Ryujin put the tip of my cock inside her mouth. She put her tongue all over it and I felt myself about to cum. My cock was twitching inside her mouth but she pulled out before I could cum.

"No. no, no Ryujin please let me cum!"

"Pathetic, My personal slut is nothing but a sex addict. What if I just leave you like this Y/N? Leave you needy all day long. My parents don't come back until tomorrow afternoon so I have plenty of time to toy with my favorite boy toy."

Ryujin sat on me just barely away from my cock. She straddled me and I couldn't help but get even harder from having her weight on me. She startled to lift my shirt and drew patterns on my chest.

"What to do with you Y/N I have so many options. What will take the brat out of you?"

I saw a sparkly in her eyes. This couldn't be good.

Ryujin got off me and went grabbed my pants. She pulled my phone out and took pictures of me.

"No don't it's embarrassing!" But my plea went unheard.

Ryujin started texting someone and looked at me with a smile that felt deadly.

"No! I know who you just texted please delete that message before she sees it!"

"Shh relax boy toy. I promise you'll enjoy what happens next."

Ryujin grabbed her breasts and put my cock in between them. She started to rub them on my cock.

I started moaning. Her breasts were so soft and squishy I wanted to cum all over them.

"Oh you like these? They're just a pair of breasts Y/N they're nothing special. Are you that much of a loser that seeing a simple pair of breasts is enough to get you worked up?"

"Ryujin!"

I couldn't help but whine. Ryujin wasn't letting me cum I felt my balls aching and wanting releases but she kept denying me.

"Please Ryujin!"

"I don't know Y/N does a whore like you deserve it? Maybe if you beg for it I'll consider it."

"Ryujin Ryujin please let me cum! I promise I won't be a brat anymore!"

Ryujin laughed at me and licked the top of my cock.

"My my Y/N I didn't think you would go as low as to beg for it. You're acting like a kid begging his mom to buy him fast food."

"Mommy please!"

My face immediately turned red when I said that. Fuck I accidentally said that out loud now she's going to make fun of me for sure.

"Mommy? Am I your mother now Y/N? Do you want me to hold you lovingly and kiss you goodnight now?"

Ryujin rubbed circles on my thighs and I could do nothing but watch as she rejects my orgasm.

Suddenly I heard the door downstairs open.

"We're up here!" Ryujin yelled.

The footsteps got closer. I was worried Ryujin's parents came home early but then the person entered the room.

"Yeji?! It's not what it looks like!"

"Y/N what the fuck is going on!"

"Yeji isn't this beautiful. Look at Y/N pathetically tied to the bed. Want to show him what happens to brats?"

I looked at Yeji and saw that her eyes had changed.

I knew I only had a few moments before Yeji made up her mind "Ryujin that isn't necessary-" but I was too late.

"Yeah Ryujin I want to teach Y/N a lesson."

"Kiss me."

Yeji got on top of me and started to make out with Ryujin. It was horrible seeing them make out while my cock was still hard.

"Look at Y/N I bet he wishes his pathertic cock was in between our lips." Ryujin looked at me with a smirk as she said that.

Yeji started to suck on Ryujin's breasts eliciting moans from Ryujin. Some of Yeji's saliva fell onto the bed. She didn't stop there though she shoved three fingers inside of Ryujin without warning.

"Yeji damn it your so much better than Y/N's cock ever was!"

"Fuck you Ryujin you literally came all over my cock last time!"

"Did you hear something Ryujin?"

"No must've been the wind."

I was turned on by the sight of both of them making out but I wanted to cum. I was in a state of pain of feeling erected but I didn't have anyway to relieve it.

"Ryujin do you think we should let Y/N cum?"

"Ugh fine we can let our little toy cum."

Ryujin and Yeji got their hands off each other and turned to me. Yeji took off her clothes and let my cock enter her warm pussy while Ryujin sat on my face.

"Go on boy toy make us cum!" Ryujin ordered.

I started to lick Ryujin's pussy and quickly shoved my cock in and out of Yeji's. They both started to make out during this and their saliva was starting to drip onto me.

"Y/N you bastard. How dare you cheat on me with Ryujin. We haven't even been together for a whole week. But you can make up for it if you make me cum hard."

"Yeji I only did it to rile Ryujin up."

"So I was nothing but a tool for you Y/N? I'm going to make you cum so much until you don't have any cum left asshole."

-

The torture had gone on for hours at this point. I couldn't stop my cock from getting hard but I was extremely exhausted. I came so much yet somehow Yeji and Ryujin weren't getting slower.

"Y/N get your filthy cock hard again. You aren't done until I say so!"

"Please Yeji stop I can't take it!"

"Should have thought of that before you used her." Ryujin responded.

I licked Ryujin's pussy so much my tongue started to hurt. Eventually she finally came all over my face again.

"I'm done here Yeji you can take Y/N from here." Ryujin laid down next to me pulling me close. I felt her warm sweaty body press up against me and it turned me on again.

"So your cock does still have some life in it."

"Yeji please no more."

"One more Y/N or should I beat the living shit out of you for cheating on me?"

I groaned and continued to thrust into Yeji. My body felt like it was on fire and I was sweating profusely.

"Ah! Yes Y/N show me how much you love me!"

"Yeji my cock is so sore!"

After a few more thrusts we both came at the same time. Yeji collapsed on me afterwards.

"Yeji I'm sorry I used you."

"It's fine Y/N but you better continue to fuck me like this."

"I don't think I have any cum left in me Yeji you drained everything."

Yeji kissed me softly and we both fell asleep.

-

The next morning we all woke up and out nostrils were filled with the smell of sex.

"It smells like 20 people had sex in here." Ryujin exclaimed, still groggy after she woke up.

"Come on Y/N help me clean up the place loser."

"Why me? Yeji also had sex with us!"

"Well you're the one who used her. So the least you can do is clean up her mess."

I had no choice. I got up and started to help Ryujin with the cleaning.

"You know Y/N I can't let this slide. No sex for 2 weeks."

"What!?

"You said you'd change your behavior and yet you went right back to using people for your own gain."

Ryujin gave me a smug look and I couldn't do anything but continue cleaning her room.

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

If you're wondering why it took so long to make part 2 it's because I had to rewrite this story 3 times. I'm so tired

Y/N gets degraded even more cause it's the only thing he deserves. I am never writing Y/N as dom.

[wintaebear]

will someone point out to jack that he too was going to get the ring for boss by marrying rosé? and he only didn't because of romantic qualms and not moral ones?

[vaguely-concerned]

how I like to imagine lucanis is feeling about being dragged along to the grand necropolis every other day in this playthrough... it's about the duality of

all the walking dressed up skeletons and other assorted body parts strewn around: undeniably kind of bad and creepy. how the fuck is it so cold and windy down here all the time rook is just a slip of a thing how are they not shivering constantly. should I get him a nice warm scarf or would that be against his sense of swag as a watcher I am currently being made to think way too much about spirit possession (these weirdos seem to think it can be benign???? it does NOT feel benign). someone might have worked very hard to get those bones to lie still and dead on the ground it seems disrespectful to that hard work to make the bones get back up again and dance a jig like this. is all I'm saying

vs.

hearing rook speak to spirits and wayward wisps with kind calm authorativeness and care and generally show a whole new side of competence and knowledge they've kept close to the chest so far: ...this better not awaken anything in me (challenge failed)

(rook who's anxiously trying to gauge if the skeletons are going to be a dealbreaker fondly reminiscing 'oh I had my first kiss over there by the van markham mausoleum from the latter part of the steel age actually' and lucanis having to admit 'this does explain some things about you'. there must be some kind of comfort in feeling like you're too removed from the normal human experience anymore to connect with someone only to find that the person you're growing a terrible crush on had barely ever seen the sun until the age of like 34 and thinks this place is the height of normalcy. lucanis' broody line where he's like 'I only know death' and ingellvar both meaningfully and amusedly raising their eyebrows like 'yeah? uh-huh? please, say more' fhdskjaf. i'm sorry you've had your freak matched lucanis I'm sure it's a bit disorienting but we'll figure this out together yet. two little death dudes sitting in a tree k i s s i n g and also trying to figure out the 'life' part of things together)

[queermarzipan]

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

BEST. SURPRISE. EVER.

BTW

I LOVE YOU ASMI I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

SOOIGJLCFGOOOOO

R o b e r t d e n e i r o

R O B E R T D E N E I R O

i'm dying. i'm actually dying

Russel T. Davies

Russel T. Davies

ily asmi

i'm laughing bc this is incredibly obvious to ME but that is EXACTLY THE SAME RHYTHM so i am in fact delighted that you knew that

Yes this is true. Twelve is the lesbian and thirteen is idk pansexual or something idk. some sort of extremely niche microlabel i feel. not 'lesbian'

YOU WOULD THINK WOULDN'T YOU but no the master just really is that much of an ego-full person. he chose the name. like every time lord gets to choose their name and he called himself the master. & honestly there is also some sort of BDSM thing going on where the master REALLY LIKES the doctor using their name. and they're also both firmly in 'I Can Fix Him' territory about each other. fucking hell

MISSY MY FUCKING BELOVED ISTG I'M SO MAD THAT THE ONLY MASTER ARC THAT HAD HER BE LIKE FIXING HERSELF WAS WHILE SHE WAS A WOMAN AND THEY HAD THAT CLEAR DELINEATION THEY MADE BTW 'THE MASTER' AND 'MISSY' & I'M JUST. I LOVE HER. YOU FUCKING GOT ME. W H Y

the fucking bigeneration i was READY TO CRY & then they gave me the BEST GIFT OF ALL FUCKING TIME WHOVIANS EVERYWHERE CHEERED ISTFG

i also fucking sobbed but that's not the point the point is it fixed me

i love how little catherine knows about doctor who. every interview they do where david and catherine are together and something factual about the lore comes up david turns to catherine like "👀😇" i fucking love it

the QPR is the realest thing ever istFG it's so much stronger than stobin it really is and i'm biased towards stobin bc they're my FIRST PLANTONIC SHIP but omg they knocked it out of the park. the doctor 7 donna. forevermore. in the brains of people who have gone insane

THE FUCKING. KILLS HER. FUCK

HE KILLS HER

TO SAVE HER LIFE

BUT HE STILL KILLS HER

AND HE HAS TO CARRY THAT

FUCKING HELLLLLLLLLLL

this is what the 60th anniversary fixed in me btw. this pain. the cracks r still conveniently there & reopen when i put myself back in time within the canon

why would i do that you ask

obviously

i

must

????

pain

donna

</3.

^see. totally reasonable

the original show had shitty effects and so does the new one and everyone loves it. if u genuinely think the shitty effects of dw are something to overcome u r made aware that u r incorrect. we love our ridiculous procreate ass living bin and obviously plastic mickey. go watch avengers if u want GOOD cgi

this is profoundly accurate & also neutral which is smart bc having not watched the show u would ABSOLUTELY not be able to adequately defend your position to avoid having ppl come up to ubto ""explain" why ur wrong.

that said.

tentoo is the best ending rose tyler could have possibly had it tied in with themes in school reunion & impossible planet & family of blood & also fucking army of ghosts & doomsday & no one can ever change my mind. i fucking love it to fucking pieces u can pry the metacrisis from my cold dead hands

HE'S CALLED TENTOO BC HE'S ALSO TEN IT'S A FUCKING PUN IT'S THE BEST PUN EVER I LOVE IT

NuWho is one word & New Who is two words. Expeditiousness is the friend of all. this is the fandom that uses full-on numbers to refer to versions of a character lke the infamous "you can like 11 better than 10" post lmao u expect us to keep two words we could conpress into one??

THE TARDIS SHOULD ABSOLUTELY IMPLEMENT RIBBONS FOR SEATBELTS IF I EVER GET TO WRITE FOR THE SHOW THAT'S MY FIRST FUCKING SUGGESTION. I'M FUCKING LOVING THAT. also the tardis😍😍🩵💙🩵💙💙🩵💙🩵🩵

he does indeed. bridgerton episode

the ninth doctor is sometimes a butch lesbian and sometimes something unknowable & i think it was the unknowable version that was bobbing his head. he fucking rocks also ur absolutely right he has so little rizz. he can get it

truth. nothing more to say

very very queer. nothing more to say

david tennant and catherine tate had SO MUCH FUN during that episode istg i love them so much

the sexuest person is indeed a head. apparently he was supposed to be in a certain story arc & he'd have his head chopped off and that's why he's a head but they couldn't get him. so now we just simply have to assume that he got into a beheading predicament at some point

the Meep's pronoun is the definite article. easy mistake to make. the Meep is always "the Meep". friend shaped because evil subterfuge :,[

.....uh........ idk asmi idk lmao

WAIT OH MY GOD IT'S CASSANDRA YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT CASSANDRA I'M GOING TO EXPLODE THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNYYYYYY

*strolls into tumblr and falls on my face pretending I haven't been missing for like a month I was out getting the milk hello maggots*

Doctor Who But I've Never Watched It 2.0

For those of you feeling deja vu YES I HAVE MADE POSTS ON DOCTOR WHO BEFORE OKAY but back then I was a young uneducated lad, just a fresh blossom unfucked by tumblr. Now I am surrounded by you lot and by god do y'all love Doctor Who. And I am Educated. My DW virginity is deflowered. All that.

SO HERE WE GO, EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SHOW I'VE NEVER WATCHED:

The show started in 1963, and then was rebooted in 2005 and the showrunner was... Robert de Neiro? Idk all I know is he gives Pedro Pascal vibes. Like his name. His name is Robert.

There have been 15 Doctors so far. One is a lesbian and it is not Jodie Whittaker, it is actually the 12th doctor.

There's someone called the Master. I don't know what that means, or if it's some kind of BDSM thing, but he has intense sexual tension with the Doctor.

He's also emo and has bleached hair and is kinda babygirl. And is called Missy.

The Doctors all have intense trauma and the 15th Doctor kind of girlbossed it by leaving David Tennant intact when they binary-fissioned.

Donna is a person played by Catherine... Tate? Not Hepburn. And she knows less about Doctor Who than I do. And Donna is in a QPR with the David Doctors (there are two of them).

David Doctor loves Donna very much. And then he kills her. But doesn't kill her. And then they have dinner together with her husband and kid.

The original show had shitty effects. The new show does too, and everyone is happy about this.

Rose is someone the David Doctor is in love with and then she ends up with a human AU of him and he leaves and the fans are very divided and passionate about this.

The human AU is called Tentoo because y'all hate using W's. What the fuck is Tentoo. What is Nuwho. Why isn't it New and Two. Help me.

THERE IS SOMETHING CALLED THE TARDIS, IT IS BIGGER ON THE INSIDE, I HAVE HAD WEIRD DREAMS WHERE IT WAS A FUCKING AUTO-RICKSHAW WITH RIBBONS FOR SEATBELTS, AND IT IS BLUE AND NOT YELLOW BUT IT WAS YELLOW IN MY DREAM. Because of a Drarry fanfic that I misread.

The 15th doctor dances homoerotically with someone during the French Revolution.

The 9th doctor kinda vibes with like his head jiggling idk I've only seen one gif of him.

The 13th doctor keeps forgetting she's in a woman's body.

It is all very gay.

David Tennant's arms are too long.

The sexiest person is a head.

The Meep's pronouns are Meep. Meep is not friend. IF NOT FRIEND THEN WHY FRIEND SHAPED??????

A buttcheek skin talks or something yeah this is all I got.

have at it y'all @robinprinceofchaos @multidimensional-trashcan @wispedvellichor @queermarzipan thanks for the second hand brainrot

*sneaks away under the cover of night* i was never here

[threepandas]

Bad End: Actions Speak

"Be Silent."

Those were the first words commanded to me by the High Dragon Prince of the South. He did not want to hear me. Did not want to see me. To even be forced to endure, my obnoxious, insignificant, human presence. Any more then he absolutely had too. If it weren't for the fact that I had magic? He likely would have preferred to have me killed.

Just like the others.

I was a prisoner of war. One, which? I had no choice but to take part in. Had been drafted, by the humans. Only to be captured, by the dragons. All I had wanted? From my second chance at life? Was to live quietly. Study magic. Enjoy what I could not, before. Instead? I got warfare. Fear. The constant threat of death.

They needed me to open confidential human intelligence. Reverse engineer defenses and weapons. My safety and quality of life? Depended entirely on my compliance. And? If those reports and devices happened to be trapped to hell 'n back? By Mages FAR more skilled then myself?

Do it anyway. You are replaceable. Either you succeed... or you die.

You... hah... y-you really...

Really can say, I guess, n-now I know...? That...

That you really DO learn faster, under fire. Enduring pain curses. Fighting lethal curses, for your very life. Fire and drowning attacks. Lightning. Wind spells meant to choke the life of out of me, by sucking out all the air from my lungs. They... they really were creative, weren't they? My old colleagues.

Yes, sadistic, in ways I had never imagined. But also? Very, very creative.

I had the scars to prove it now.

All the while, as commanded, I did not talk. Did not DARE. Still do not. Even as I am shoved around. Dragged from tent to tent, building to building. Hurried along, like an inconvenience. A faulty, inefficient, piece of machinery, that dares eat their food and breathe their air. Slow and lagging, but sadly? Oh, sadly. They could not find better.

But I endure. Survive. I do not talk, so I can not offer. I give them nothing more then they demand. Malicious compliance. Nothing more, nothing less, then EXACTLY as you commanded, oh Wardens mine. My Keepers, foul and wretched. The holders of my chains. Someday... someday, this war will end. Or I will die, my luck running out, at long, long last.

And I?

I Will Be Free.

Once, long before this all, I had heard rumors. They say that talented humans, magically gifted humans, tended to be kept as glorified, pampered little pets, in the Vampiric lands. It... it sounds nice, now. To worry for nothing. To be protected. Adored and provided for, like some exquisite house cat, lounging in the sun. I could study again. Find someone nice.

....I worry.

You see, I... I think...

I may be breaking, around the edges of myself. Hairline fractures, born of stress. It's the isolation. Surrounded as I am. None of them are human, none of them will talk to me, at me. Anything at all. They follow the lead of their Prince. And he? Oh, he has made his distain for humanity clear.

Which begs the question. Why is he here?

Or rather, why am I? Dragged, from the ratty little cloth hovel they call "my tent", by the worn and patched to incoherence cloak I now wear, straight to the central command tent. Where the Prince is. The generals. The beating heart of the army itself. Dumped on the ground at his feet, I was fully expecting that to be it. That this would be the day.

They had found a better, less worn down, mage. A stronger one. A more obedient one. My services would no longer be... required.

I sat there. In the dirt. Eyes locked on his feet and waited. Palms splayed against the floor. Why bother fight? If I did THAT, they'd use me as "an example" for the NEXT mage. No. No, better to go quick. I had been reborn once. T-there was a possibility... however small... it... it might? Happen again?

Please, Gods. Please Gods, let it happen again.

But no. I was told, with judgment in his voice, by some general, to "get up". Ha! As though they were not directly responsible for my beaten down state. How dare. How DARE he judge me? I owed them nothing. Refused to die, in some short sighted tantrum of honor or pride.

I would LIVE, damn it. I MUST live. For how ever long I could. I wanted to be free again. To read and travel, do magic for magics sake. Never... NEVER see another dragon again.

Perhaps that was hateful. But damn it... I... I was so tired.

Nonetheless, I stood. Looked at no one and said nothing. Just an empty, ragged cloak with flesh inside. I am not here. I do not suffer. Unfocus your eyes and be far away. Yes, that's right, I tell myself, far... far away. It's like meditation. Just... ride the flow of magic. Do not call it. Merely observe. Let the colors drag you in. Be washed away. Far, far away.

I hear and do not hear, there. See and do not see. They can not touch me, can not hurt me, there is nothing and everything, in the Magics. It is... so... so BeAuTiFuL.

No wonder so many are lost. Drift and never come back.

I play a dangerous game, here.

But they can not hurt me.

No one can.

In here.

No answer comes then. But I am expected to work. Perhaps it is a show? Or they wish to verify, that I am indeed, doing what they keep me alive for. Nonetheless, I sit, in the corner, silent as I got to work. As old colleagues try to stop my heart, freeze my blood, rupture my organs. As burns roar over my skin and lightning crackles against canvas walls.

I do not scream. That would be too close to "speaking". I am not fool enough to give them an excuse. There is a belt I can bite. I use it often. Will have to salvage another, as this one is falling to pieces. That and a silencing spell? My screaming is muted.

Getting better at healing magic, I think. Either I have learned to numb the pain or I may have nerve damage. I doubt, now, that I will ever win awards. For my beauty. Too many scars. My arms are a wreck. My hands a travesty. It is nothing short of a miracle, that I have not LOST any fingers, to this.

Why am I here? Why? Why?

At least in my little hovel, I can curl up and weep. Emote. Can take breaks between bouts of pain and battles of magic. But here? Like a machine, stacks are dumped before me, and I am expected to perform. Do or die, human. We can always find another.

Through it all, haunting golden eyes watch. My pain, my exhaustion, all observed, giving away nothing, by that impassive royal face. I don't know what he WANTS.

Finally, after weeks of considering me, he decides to tell me. Comes to some conclusion, no input required. Why would it be? Of course. He is a High Prince. His power is great, his honor and name without equal. Why would he need MY input on anything.

"Did I know," he asked me, voice ponderous and musing, "That of all the mages his people have captured... I had lived the longest?"

I had not. But it did not suprise me.

He sat, considering me, splayed back in his chair like it was a throne, every bit the picture of a royal. A portrait of the man he was born to be. But the distain... the distain? Had... lessened. Not gone. Never gone. Gods, no. We peons were beneath him. Especially I, a mere human. But? Apparently I was not longer quite so wretched.

Our dear High Prince decided I should get a better tent. A new cloak. Actual medical supplies. What wonders.

It made me nervous. What cost, did these things come with? What expectation? Loyalty? I had offered none and never will. That would quickly become a problem. Still, I kept my head down. Always, always, keep your head down. Let the dragons die, for their stupid fucking war.

No longer replaceable. I discovered.

In the next big attack, as there was ALWAYS a next one, I wasn't evacuated last. As attacks fell. But FIRST, as the soilders were arriving. I was... was "essential personal". Shoved in an evac cart with the fancy strategists.

They started deliberately capturing mage supplies. Books and spell papers, chalks and high quality inks. Not just to disarm their opponents. Oh no. But to give to ME. I had... I had NEVER gotten supplies. The last time I had actually, truely, desperately, needed ink? I had been forced to use my own blood.

My hands actually shook. Touching such richs now. It overwhelmed, after so long, with nothing. I... I had healing books. Could actually look things up!

Curling up, before the piles of crates they dumped in front of my little tent, I didn't care, if they saw me cry. On my knees like an acolyte before the alter. Finally. FINALLY! Answers, armaments, and supplies. Relief, after so long? Was rain on desert sands. Burned skin left tender and screaming, to the cleansing mercy, of the softly weeping skies.

This, too, the High Prince saw.

No where to store them, of course. A gift given then taken away. Held just out of reach. Just long enough to give hope. All the better to torment you with it. Oh where we would we store, your useless little trinkets, human?

But I refuse to play the game. Fine. Take them. Take it all.

I need nothing.

Retreat into the Magics. They can not hurt me. I am not here. Far, far away. I am far, far away.

The High Prince, lounging and watchful, seems to have decided. No. The human things will go to him, actually, not to the fire. He watches with strange, considering eyes. In fact? I will make my self useful. Show my gratefulness. He is using valuable storage space on me, so I am to come before him and study. Prove it is worth it.

Is he not gracious? Now press your face to the dirt in thanks, human. Bow and scrape. Be glad, be honored, that your Liege is so kind.

He does not disagree, as they tell me these things. Why would he? They are his due. I think... I think I hate him. Hate them all. But the pull of books, of proper supplies, is simply too powerful. Back to that wretched tent I go. Under the staring eyes that dissect me so. Finally, I can heal my aching body.

He watchs me. As I study, improve, learn and grow. As old books are taken from me, shipped away somewhere, beyond my reaching, and new ones arrive. I desperately make notes. Hope those notes will be enough. Work and suffer and bleed. Somewhere, in the camp, I sense others.

The come and go. Bright lights that flare and then dim. Struggling and struggling, before finally going out. Some faster then others. The objects and messages they have me working on now? Are truely nasty. Again and again, I see the crests of Nobel houses and royal seals. How powerful, I wonder, have I become? Or is it simply... specialized?

A gift, for not dying.

Over the camp walls, I have begun to recognize the surroundings. The mountains and the valleys. The trees, in bloom. It seems wrong, that the world should be so beautiful, as everything is ending. The nation I grew up in, is falling. But... but we passed Heartriver two weeks back. And THAT? Was well within the border.

And from HERE... I can see the school.

The University of Magics. All I had ever wished, was to return. But... but not like this, never like this. I'm... gods. Oh Gods, I'm sorry. For my weakness. For not choosing to die. For not running at all, before it all began. I should have. But... but I was a coward. And now everyone else, must pay the price.

I stand outside my pathetic little tent and watch the horizon smoke. Burn.

Dragons are so very, very fond of fire.

Far away... j-just go far away... the Magic will always take you. Is always kind. Towards the tent I go. I remind myself, as I force myself to move, one step in front of the other? That if the worst comes to worst? I can just... Let Go. Go DEEP. So deep that no one and nothing can ever find me again. So far away, my body forgets I ever lived at all.

Just... just a soul. Floating along like a jellyfish, in the beautiful Allthings. The light and void, the far away and gone. I-It wouldn't even hurt. Just be like... like letting go of a balloon. I could be that balloon. Disappear into endless starlight...

But... BUT! I wont.. I can't! Not yet. Not until every other path has burned. Last resort. Only, ONLY, as a last resort.

(I refuse to acknowledge... how comforting the knowledge is. That I have a plan at all. A way out.)

Entering the tent, I head for "my table". At the High Prince' feet like a dog. A lovely little carpet, comfortable little pillows, a low table to work on. It would... honestly? It would be a lovely place setting. A delightful workstation. If it were not the context. The obvious, blatant, demeaning context.

Sit at his feet and behave. Be good and you're rewarded, be bad and you're punished. Brought little treats at HIS command? Sit on a pillow, on the floor, as they talk over your head? Ha ha... I? I half expected to one day show up to find someone holding a fucking collar.

If they fucking tried? I was going to set everything on FIRE. Even I, had limits.

However, it was just the Prince and I. Uncomfortable, but I could ignore him. Walking for my humiliating little seat, I noticed him watching me. Slowed. Why... why was he watching me? Awkwardly I paused. Did NOT want to be kneeling in front of a man that was staring that intently at me. Especially not so closely to a man, staring like that. The vibes were... off.

"Did you know, pet, that we actually have several rather old alliances amoung the Vampiric Royal Houses?" He said, breaking the strange silence.

'Pet, huh? Good to know he's at least fucking AWARE. I did NOT consent to that!' I seethe, in my head.

"It's been bothering me, you see. Your wretched state." He continues, completely unbothered that he might as well be talking to a statue. I stare, seethe, would give a limb at this point, to set him on fire. "You've suffered unbearably and I've done nothing to correct it, even though I could. We needed you for the war effort, you see, but now? Now, pet, we're nearly done. And I can finally care for you properly."

"Reward you, properly." The bastard says, calm and oh so reasonable, as though I had anything to do with him willingly.

"Honestly, it's long over due. The second I realized I wanted you as Mine, I should have stepped up to care for you properly. Officially. But, sadly, it would have been a conflict of interest. An abuse of power. Now, however? Now I can finally call on our allies for their support. Get you the medical assistance you so badly require."

A pleased smile stole across his face as he considered me.

"You'll make a lovely vampire. It was selfish of me, to cheat you of the years turning you sooner would have given you, but I'm sure you'll forgive me with time. Our people needed us. I can swear to you now, pet, you will forever remain my favorite, even if I take a Queen."

Horror was like a gut punch, deliver by a fighter jet. I felt immediately and intensely sick. W-what? Frozen so completely I nearly forgot to breathe, I looked for ANY sign he may be joking. Exaggerating. But... but no. W-WHAT?? How. WHEN? At what point, in my torment? In my UTTER SILENCE? Did this man "fall in love"?!

H-How can you LOVE a women you've never-?! No. No, I KNEW how.

You decide you like the IDEA of them. The shape of their body. You project onto them your OWN narrative and decide it is a love story. Fuck. FUCK!! I was... this was... no no NO! I REFUSED. Like HELL was I could to live, trapped for DECADES if not CENTURIES, the pretty little war bride of a tyrant!

The High Prince gets up and walkes towards me. Sweeps me into terrifyingly powerful arms. When he smiles? There are fangs. Deadly and hardly the comfort he thinks they are. We are a laughable contrast. Richs and rags, power and prisoner, royal and the woman who might just burn the world to escape. Shit. SHIT. I was scared of him before.

And that's BEFORE he decided he loved me.

[balkanradfem]

So I've been looking to read some books about living in nature, written by women, to get an idea of how it goes in practice, and the first book I found was 'The Great Alone' by Hannah Kirstin. It was about a family who decided to move to Alaska and live self-sufficiently, and it was written from the point of view of the daughter, Leni. I did not realize right away that this was a piece of fiction! However I do want to tell you about this book because something very specific happened in it that made me have.. ideas.

Right on the first page, it was spelled out to me clearly that this is a story about domestic violence. The father was drinking, had ptsd from war, sometimes 'blew up', and I was like, oh, I know what that is. Okay, let's see what happens then.

The father decided to move them all to Alaska because a buddy who died in the war left him a cabin there, and he wasn't earning money to pay rent, so Alaska it is. He talked his wife into it, promising that he will 'be better over there', and I'm like yeah sure you will.

I have to say, at the beginning this book was just heavily enabling me. They went over to Alaska and everyone was saying 'you need to prepare for winter immediately', even though it was spring, and they were bewildered. People were coming to help them to build a garden and homesteading infrastructure. And I'm looking at that like hell yeah I'm already 100% introduced to this, I am prepairing my garden from January, as soon as spring hits I am looking for food to can, dry, cure, I'm filling my stash from the moment cherries arrive. I'm certified to live in nature. (I'm not, I'm just entertaining myself with this fiction).

Alaskan winter is long and dangerous, and somehow these folks were already at the end of their food stash by the end of January, which is so early. They were in trouble, had no money, it was cold, Alaskan winter also brings 18 hours of darkness a day, so everyone was bummed and anxious. As you can imagine, the father found himself some alt-right conspiracy theorists to hang out there and drink with, every day they were talking about the government or minorities 'coming for their land' and prepairing to shoot people at the moment's notice, so it's no wonder he became more violent, aggressive and dangerous to his wife and child. He would end up beating his wife, and she would forgive him, and the daughter watching all this felt insane and desperate to save her mother. But there was no help, no police, nobody could even reach them in the deep winter, they had no food, they relied on him to catch something in the forest.

This is where the story got interesting. 

He breaks her nose, and the daughter decides that's enough, takes her mother into the car, and they escape. They crash. Daughter seeks help. They end up in a hospital. Father finds them and cries and promises to never do it again. Mother forgives him, seemingly out of fear that he's going to start killing people if she leaves him. Alaskan folk now know that she is being abused, because of her bruises and broken nose. And something unexpected happens.

One of the first Alaskan characters introduced in the story is Large Marge, a big woman owning a shop where she trades food and other survival goods. She is strong, resourceful, down to earth, incredible, helpful in every possible way. She is our star. Because once the word is out about the abuse, and the domestic violence family is back in the cabin, she comes over. She tells them all to sit the hell down, like she's a parent sorting out her unruly children. She then tells this story:

'I used to be a lawyer. Big city prosecutor. High heels and designer suits. I loved it. And I loved my sister, who married the man of her dreams. Only he turned out to have a few problems. A few quirks. Turned out he drank too much and liked to use my baby sis as a punching bag. I tried everything to get her to leave him, but she refused. Maybe she was scared, maybe she loved him, maybe she was as sick and broken as he was. I know that when I called the police it was worse for her and she begged me not to do it again. I backed off. Biggest mistake of my life. He went after her with a hammer. We had to have a closet-casket funeral. He claimed he'd taken the hammer from her to protect himself. The law isn't kind to battered women. He's still out there. Free. I came up here to get away from all that.“ She looked at the abuser. ''And here you are.''

The tension was insane. Everyone tried to get a word in, but she shut then down, and then she looked at the abuser again. ''We've talked about your situation here, we have a few solutions, but really, our favourite one is where we take you out and kill you.''

And I am reading this like oh my god. That's the freaking solution. It doesn't need to be that complicated. We just need someone who is 100% done with this shit who takes him out and shoots him. Problem solved. You hit your wife? Out and shot. Bye loser. Nobody losing sleep over you anymore.

I would love to tell you that she did take him out and shoot him, of how would I love to tell you that. I prayed it would happen as soon as the option was presented to me. However she told him he is either being taken out and shot, or he is leaving, getting a job and then providing money for his wife and daughter, and not returning until the spring comes again, which, he agreed to, since the alternative was to be taken out and shot. But I was still saying we should shoot him. She then decided to stay with the mother and daughter to keep them safe and fed during the winter. Like the hero she fucking is.

So, I haven't read this entire book yet, this is the middle of it, I have to go back and read the other half in order to know what happened next, but, I love this, I love the author, I love the representation of domestic violence and cycle of abuse, and how it is to be a female child in this situation, I love Large Marge, I love the resolution she provides, we need her, someone please, put her in reality. I want to be her, I want to barge into people's home and make death threats to abusers. To randomly stumble on a book like this is incredible to me. Thank you women for writing books. I love you all.

[pookietv]

encore! | arthur hill

literally got this ask like a couple hours but i had ideas for it so figured the dedication to the grind was worth it :)

been so long since i've written a smau, so i hope you enjoy! i may be slightly rusty

liked by yourinstagram, arthurtv and 7,389 others

arthurnfhill: the kill hill tour has started better than i could have ever asked for :)

georgeclarkeey: who is that sexy man on stage??

↳ arthurnfhill: can't wait for you to be my sexy groupie at the london show

username3: KILL HILL IS GONNA BE SO GOOD!!!!

username4: can't wait for manchester omg

liked by shannonlangdon, arthurnfhill and 6,093 more

yourusername: soooo what if i said i was impulsively dropping a song tomorrow night because i need to get the song off my chest and i can't wait until the supposed release date of next month ...?

it's called francis forever, and it's brought me a lot of peace to throw myself into completely making this song over the past few weeks

ANYWAYS here's a presave link if you care about that sort of thing,

hope you enjoy!

love, y/n.

jamesmarriott: we're getting SPOILED with another y/n banger

↳ yourusername: how do you know banger you haven't even heard yet ??? hmmm???

↳ jamesmarriott: you only drop bangers and thats FACTUAL

taliamar: UGH you are my icon

↳ yourusername: thats funny cause you're mine ???

username5: my heart is BREAKING at the caption

username6: omg if this is a breakup song i will do something violent.

liked by chrismd, georgeclarkeey and 7383 others

arthurnfhill: i can't believe there is only four more shows of the kill hill tour - feels like i was waiting forever for the tour to come around and now its almost done just like that!

chrismd: london show night one and two rolling around real quick

↳ arthurnfhill: missed me in the flat?

↳ chrismd: all you did before you left was mope around so not much change

arthurtv: my goat

↳ arthurnfhill: can't wait to see the number one most popular arthur on famous birthdays in person again

username7: CAN'T WAIT FOR LONDON SHOWS

username8: manchester was AMAZING omg

liked by arthurnfhill, georgeclarkeey and 5739 others

yourusername: as requested - my one night only london show! it was amazing to see so many of you guys there, makes this whole music thing so much more surreal :,)

username9: girl are you just gonna ignore the fact that ARTHUR AND GEORGE WERE THERE ???

↳ username10: for REAL my delusional y/nthur ass is going into OVERDRIVE

arthurnfhill: was a great night, glad i got to catch the show :)

↳ username11: oh you guys are TWISTED dropping comments like this

↳ username12: literally still in love i am not hearing any different.

bambinobecky: can i be ur biggest fan?

↳ yourusername: anyday sexy ;)

username13: the fact she scheduled it just a couple days before his london dates so arthur could make it ..... coincidence ???

liked by arthurtv, yourusername and 6290 others

mummysboypod: Mum, did you miss me on tour?

The NEW episode of Mummy's Boy is now live - with Arthur and Lisa discussing Arthur's life on tour, from crazed fans to drunken nights!

Link in bio!

liked by yourusername, arthurtv and 6380 others

arthurnfhill: i still cannot believe kill hill is over!! i will miss seeing all of you lovely people and playing you my silly songs

arthurtv: what does slay mean and why do women keep shouting it at you?

↳ arthurnfhill: because i ATE arthur

↳ arthurtv: you ate me?

username14: TOUR WAS SO INCREDIBLE!!!

username15: y/n being in the crowd was NOT. a coincidence

username16: is y/nthur back????

username17: you seemed SO much happier towards end of tour

username18: DUBLIN MISSES YOU ALREADY !!!

liked by georgeclarkeey, arthurnfhill and 9374 others

yourusername: in musical terms... you could call this an encore?

username19: IMAGINE REANNOUNCING Y/NTHUR IN THE MOST ICONIC WAY POSSIBLE.

georgeclarkeey: i think everyone clocked when you were love heart eyeing him the whole concert

↳ yourusername: well you also did that and no one has realised yet?

↳ georgeclarkeey: it's MY bed he comes back to sweetie

lisahull_hill: you both have the sweetest smiles

↳ yourusername: LISA I MISSED YOU SO MUCH

↳ arthurnfhill: yourusername i believe you said 'more than i missed you by a long shot' ??

[eimearkuopio]

I'm in the UK, so YMMV, and I was diagnosed at age 33 in about 2018, so things may have changed BUT

To get a diagnosis of ADHD on the NHS, you first need to get a referral and you'll have to figure that stuff out for yourself.

I believe I was diagnosed based on DSM-V criteria but I'm recovering from a pretty severe mental break at the moment. Take everything I say with a pinch of salt, but this is stuff that I am a fairly well-informed lay person on.

There are 18 symptoms of ADHD; 9 inattentive, and 9 hyperactive-impulsive. To qualify for a diagnosis, you need to have a certain number from one or both categories to an extent that it significantly impacts on your day-to-day life. Not being capable of stopping procrastinating even when you want to is a pretty significant symptom of executive dysfunction.

I have all nine inattentive-type symptoms. I also have a PhD that I got by nearly killing myself doing a PhD with undiagnosed ADHD.

The hyperactive-impulsive symptoms are the ones that are easily visible from the outside. To get an ADHD diagnosis, the symptoms need to have been there since childhood, because it's a neurodevelopmental condition. But there's a lot of overlap with other conditions like C-PTSD or bipolar. Think of... The difference between being born with brittle bones and breaking bones easily and repeatedly in circumstances that wouldn't harm most people, versus having grown up in an abusive environment where an adult keeps breaking your bones, versus being in a whole bunch of car crashes where you kept breaking bones.

Your lack of executive function is a symptom that needs to be dealt with for you to be a healthy, happy person, and you might or might not have actual ADHD, but if you want to stop procrastinating and you can't do that, something is wrong. The reason I'm suggesting being assessed for ADHD is that if the reason behind your executive function issues is actually ADHD, it's going to be much easier to treat than the other shit. Not necessarily easy, mind you; but easier than the other options.

I will also say that I think in the next decade or so we're going to see a lot of C-PTSD diagnoses in the aftermath of COVID. So the most important thing is to be kind to yourself, because something is wrong and you don't know what yet. But it's not your fault, because you want to do better and you can't yet. So you need to talk to a professional who can help you figure out what's wrong before you end up in the place I was a month ago. Good luck. There is still hope, but there's more of it when you know your labels and you have the right meds. 💚💜🩷

So I’m a first year uni student. How did you survive your bachelors? It feels like such a long slog, and as I write this I have five things I need to do.

In particular, how did you… not procrastinate

I’d really appreciate any advice you can give!

One day at a time mate. One day at a time.

I can't give you any advice on procrastination, I procrastinated every project I had throughout all of uni.

[urfictional]

what doesn’t kill you… `𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 - 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘤𝘰

Summary: The one where it all started with betrayal. A meeting that later grew into a partnership no one expected. In the end, they both will have their Nation of Zaun. Or will they?

Warnings: Arcane spoilers, drug use, blood, violence, typical Arcane stuff.

Pairing: Silco x f!reader

series masterlist

Dear, Silco.

Before I begin, you should know how difficult it is for me to put my feelings into words. So, please accept my apologies if this letter does not come across as sincere as I had hoped.

I'll most likely be long gone by the time you read this letter. And the most important thing you should know is that it was not your fault. The events of the previous few days had had a profound effect on me. Every day, something happened that made me question my beliefs, feelings, and power that I held.

It all began when we went to see Ren. God, that little girl. She was the one who started it all, and everything went downhill from there. When I saw Marcus's body on the bridge that day, I realized Ren will be alone. And that was something I wanted to change.

Remember how many times have I told you how scared I am of not knowing how to raise a child? Since you brought Jinx with you that day, every day I feared that I might do something wrong. Perhaps this is why she grew up to be your daughter rather than mine. You were always better at this than me.

But with Ren it was different. It was as if all of my fears had vanished, and I knew exactly what I needed to do. Now I'm wondering if it was all meant to be. Perhaps Marcus was meant to die so that I could care for Ren. She changed me. She changed me completely and I am sorry. Believe me when I say that it was never my intention to leave you on purpose. And, as you are aware, we do not have the ability to stop the river from flowing into the sea or stop the sun from setting. The same was with me. This was something I couldn't stop.

I know what you're thinking right now. Why was I so upset that you chose Jinx when I was willing to give up everything for the Sheriff's daughter? Well, accept my sorry. It's just that when I realized you weren't going to hand her over, something in me snapped. I was enraged that you could jeopardize our dreams for the sake of a girl. Only after our argument did I try to put myself in your shoes. And now I understand.

Because I would do it too. I couldn’t give up Ren. Not for anything.

Silco, I hope you can find the strength to forgive me. After all, we both gave up our lives for girls who were left alone in this world. We appear to have more in common than we previously thought.

There is only one thing I need from you. Please do not come looking for me. I'm sure you could find me if you wanted to. Please, don’t. Regardless of how angry, disappointed, or sad, you are.

Zaun is your world, it’s where you’re supposed to be. You fit there, and I don’t.

Someone once told me that when they first saw me, they thought I was a Topsider. I'm not saying I was too good for Zaun; you, of all people, know that's not the case. But maybe this wasn't the right city for me. After all, it has brought me only grief and suffering.

I want you to know that I believe in you, Silco. I never stopped. Continue what we started, there will be plenty of other opportunities. Create the ideal Zaun, just like in our dreams. Meanwhile, I’ll be on the other side, always thinking about you.

And remember,

I love you.

y/n

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[wolftheghost]

House md as Things I've Heard People Say Irl (some of them are things ive said)

Edit: yes they did actually say "bint", im from the uk

Longggg so cut

Taub: "my teeth don't have a latent wetness"

House: "free range vicodin"

Chase: "I don't want that dirty man's bum juice on my chair!!"

Wilson: "please dont gaslight [Masters]"

House: "I'm not being racist, I'm just calling it ugly" (holding a triangle ruler)

Kutner: "It's giving evil cabbage"

Cuddy: "Feel free to be violent"

Thirteen: "I don't know where an octopus' bumhole is"

House: "I've been infected. I'm gonna kill myself. Just so you know"

Wilson: "I don't desire your mother carnally"

Cuddy: "I'm concerned by the amount of times I've heard 'eat a baby' "

House, leaving the clinic: "Don't forget to swap your drugs"

Kutner: "Not in a racist way, I just don't like cashews"

Cuddy: "We're not taking the bomb calorimeter on a plane."

House: "But it's better than wine, and it's painful"

House: "One in terms of distance, one in terms of they're dead"

Thirteen: "This isn't working and I am about to go insane"

House: "I haven't sneezed in [Wilson]'s mouth in a while"

Foreman: "If you swam in oil, it'd be gross"

House: "Let me tell you something about drugs"

Taub: "Time for an existential crisis on a Tuesday afternoon"

Cuddy: "He's still a miserable old bint and it's his own fault his girlfriend broke up with him"

Chase: "Wouldn't it be hilarious if I broke in and stole all his stuff?"

House: "It's life, everything's hard. Including me"

Wilson: "Like an elderly cat gently urinating"

House: "I need a coffee. And a biscuit. And a [vicodin]. And a cigar"

Kutner: "Taub's allergic to plant cum!"

Cuddy: "Nice point now instantly forget it"

Foreman: "Aids or no aids?"

[therealestsophia]

Jealousy Hidden Behind Masksִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

hiya🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ this is my first tumblr post— this is also posted on ao3. howeveerrr I am aware Ghost and König are not in the same team ive been playing this game since I was younger, so think of it as an au or something idrk

────────୨ৎ────────

Last week you and your team were sent on a mission in Mexico trying to find some cartel in Guadalajara. However one of the new sergeants put herself in mind boggling danger. She stood tall at an open fire, trying to take the bullets for everyone else so they could have a chance to

live.

Everyone was screaming at her to get down, to save herself. But she didn’t want to listen, if she was gonna go down…She would be remembered for how she did it

For the few right reasons,

and for all the wrong.

You not wanting this bright eyed sergeant to lose her life from one dumb heroic decision, you took it upon yourself to tackle her to the ground. However in the midst of tackling her you got shot in the abdomen an exceptional amount of times. Due to you and the sergeant being severely injured the team couldn't move forward without abandoning you both, and to Ghost, that wasn't an option.

❤️🔥

“Are you stupid [name]?” his fists landed on his desk, causing the glass of water atop it to shake slightly. His voice may have been calm with a sharp edge to it, but he couldn't stop his actions. You were trying your absolute hardest to choke down your tears, you couldn't cry in front of your Lieutenant like a scared little girl who just lost her parents in the store.

“Huh? Are you?” he quipped. His icy blue gaze narrows on your small frame sitting on the chair in front of his desk.

“Ghost-” my voice shook as I tried to keep myself together, slowly meeting his piercing gaze.

“Don’t ‘Ghost’ me.” he hissed, cutting your trembling voice off. But somehow, Ghost cutting you off only fueled the fire that was slowly building inside of you. You looked down at your balled hands sitting in your lap, slightly picking at your nails to try and calm yourself down.

Even if you could see his face, you already could imagine what it looked like. His blonde eyebrows furrowing in frustration, his lips pressed thin in a firm line of anger. You could understand his anger to a degree, but was this really necessary? You’re sitting here living after all, injured but alive.

He took in a heavy sigh of anger, “You deliberately went against orders, and almost got yourself killed.” he growled, there he was again. Referencing the stupid wounds that litter your abdomen due to your stupid, heroic decision. His lips drawn back in a snarl as he looked at your body, studying your body language to try and guess your next move.

“Ghost, why do you even care so much?!” you finally snapped at him, which in turn caught him by surprise with your sudden outburst. Your eyes burning with frustration that had finally boiled over. Slightly shifting in your seat while never breaking eye contact, wincing at shooting pain coming from your ribs, the pain you’ve been so desperately trying to ignore. The exact pain he was referencing throughout this entire argument.

He paused for a second, debating his words. “Because I care about you.” he said flatly, the anger in his voice was slightly gone but it was still there lingering. “Don’t you get it? Do you need me to spell it out for you to even reach your thick skull?” he sneered. There's the anger that was lingering in his tone. His eyes never left yours, it was becoming a battle to see who would break eye contact first, and it wasn't going to be you.

His hands were pressed firm on the desk, standing over you like some kind of hierarchy. You sat there, your eyes staring into his while you sat there like some child getting scolded by a teacher.

“I don’t need to get it.” you muttered under your breath, annoyance clear in your tone. “I never asked for you to care,” you paused, inhaling a sharp breath while standing up to push in your chair. “Nor anyone else, so don't make it my problem.” you hissed through your teeth as you reached his office door, whipping around to open it. Maybe you were the one to break eye contact, but at this point you couldn’t take it anymore.

God if you wanted a lecture you could have gone to Price.

Ghost just stood there, a blank expression on his face that was carefully covered by his balaclava, though his eyes read a thousand words. You opened the door and slammed it shut, walking away from his office briskly, you reflected on your choice of words. They were harsh, no sugar coating that, but they were true. Right?

But this time he didn't try to call you back, demanding you come back to speak to him. He just stood there in his office, contemplating everything.

You walked back to the barracks quietly, not bothering to say hello to anyone you passed. You walked for what felt like forever, being trapped in your own thoughts made it worse.

Once you finally reached your room you opened your door quickly and slammed it shut. All your prior frustrations came back as soon as you stepped in the room. Your eyes pricked with tears as you stood there silently, a lump in your throat formed and it was impossible to choke down. You kicked off your boots and made your way to your bed, as you flopped down on the soft mattress you couldn't hold back your tears.

The tears fell smoothly down your flushed cheeks, your body curling up in a ball as you drowned yourself in blankets. Your quiet sobs filled the room, and it didn't even matter that you still had your uniform on, you didn't care anymore. Your abdomen was throbbing, the pain making your tears fall harder than they were before. His words flooded your thoughts, ‘Because I care about you.’ kept replaying over and over again.

Why did he have to care? That made this so much more worse than it had to be.

The sobs eventually got quieter and quieter, god. Why did I have to be such a crybaby? So- sensitive. His words felt like thousands of sharp knives cutting through you. It was awful, it hurt so much.  Your eyes began to flutter slightly as you continued to cry, all you could do was cry and ponder on your decisions.

❤️🔥 pov change.

My eyes slowly blinked open as I woke up to a pounding headache. Damn it. I glanced at the clock as I sat up. It read 17:38, I sighed and closed my eyes leaning my back on my headboard. I rubbed my puffy eyes and crawled out of bed, throwing my blankets off of me. I stumbled to my feet, grabbing my night stand to balance myself.

Finally steadying myself I walked into my bathroom just to look at what I looked like. Oh my god…my tear streaked face was a sight to see you could say. I turned the light on before turning the sink to cold and started to splash my face with freezing water, hoping it would clear my post-cry face.

Turning off my sink and grabbing a towel I turned to pat my face dry, good enough.

I looked at my puffy eyes in the mirror with a huff before walking out of my bathroom and turning off the light. I walked slowly towards my door, slipping on my boots and walking out of my room.

Roaming the halls it was quiet, nothing was really happening. It wasn’t a busy day today, the halls holding an uncomfortable silence as I walked through them.

The sounds of my boots lightly treading across cold tile floor filled my ears.

Continuing to walk towards the mess hall I saw Ghosts office to my right, the office that hours earlier I stormed out of. I shook my head with a sigh and continued to walk towards the mess hall. Though the halls were oddly quiet, it was unsettling to say the least.

Reaching the mess hall I realized it wasn't as  crowded as it usually was. I didn’t have an appetite so I decided to just sit down at one of the empty tables and lay my head down, just listening to the talking and bickering of the place was comforting.

That's when I heard a familiar voice behind me, his presence was strong but his accent was even stronger.

“Schatz?” the man asked, his Austrian accent strong.

“König?” I asked and glanced up to see the tall Austrian man standing behind me, looming over me like a giant building.

He sat next to me, he clearly saw the somber expression written all over my face. He sat close, but not that close. The chatter in the mess hall was a comforting ambiance to this situation.

He gently lifted a finger to my trembling chin with his rough index finger, forcing me to stare into his pale blue eyes.

“Ist etwas passiert?” he asked softly, his tone quiet but still audible from the noise around us. (Did something happen?)

“No…” I whispered lower than he could hear, my voice slightly shaking as I tried to keep myself together.

I quickly hung my head low, breaking eye contact with him. My bottom lip was trembling as I tried to choke back my own tears, I didn't want to worry him, especially with all the stuff he's dealing with on his own.

“Oh, komm her.” he coaxed, pulling me into a bear hug. Trapping me in his warm embrace, playing with my hair in an attempt to calm me down. (Oh, come here.)

I lost it, I started bawling into his chest. Clinging onto his shirt in a desperate attempt to make sure he wouldn't leave me.

“Ghost and I had a fight-” I managed to choke out.

Ghost, the name alone made Konig tense up. I felt him squeeze me tighter in his arms when I said his name.

The name rang in his ears, his head racing with thoughts of him and you together as he gently stroked your hair.

Why can't you just realize that I can be so much better than him? Konig thought quietly.

Everytime Konig saw you with Ghost, it felt like you took his heart so gingerly, so sparingly…only to stomp on it afterwards. Or whispering sweet nothings into his ear but plunging the knife in his heart, over, and over again.

“He wont talk to me-” your trembling voice broke him free from the prison someone called thoughts. “and I'm worried I really messed up big time…” I sobbed even harder into his chest, it felt like I was dying.

Dramatic much. Though my chest heaving, I was hyperventilating.

“Shhh…” he soothed, rubbing my lower back gently. Konig gritted his teeth and bit his tongue, he didn't want to upset you more than you already were. He didn’t want to add his name to the list of reasons.

He just sat there rubbing your back, just being a shoulder to cry on. My fingers clung to his shirt, like he was a balloon and I was trying so hard to keep him on the ground with me.

“I know it hurts, but everything will be fine.” he reassured, his voice soft but still stern enough to make you listen to him. He spoke of things he knew nothing about, having no prior knowledge was hard but he was trying his best.

Him calming me down was oddly comforting, his warm embrace made my heart flutter slightly. “Just calm down, it’ll be fine, I promise.” he calmed me further, his accent coming back stronger.

He held me tight, holding me like I was the most precious gem in the world and he would do anything to keep it in his possession.

How could he promise something he knew nothing about?

How could someone make such an empty promise?

I finally pulled away from him, my tear streaked face and glassy eyes looking up at him with a pained expression.

My breath was still labored, my bottom lip wobbling as I tried to keep myself steady.

“I know it hurts, but give him time,” he paused to take a sharp inhale. “You guys always work it out.” Konig mumbled through gritted teeth, his personal vendetta with Ghost was getting the better of him.

He wanted to say so much more, how Ghost didn't deserve you, how you shouldn't cry over someone like him. But he didn't, he kept his mouth shut because your comfort was his top priority.

It hurt him so much to see you in pain, to see you cry over Ghost was, who quite frankly, could go jump out of a helicopter and he’d be fine with it.

I was pulled from my thoughts as I glanced around the room. Out of my periphery I saw Ghost, leaning on the mess hall door watching me. Wait no…

Watching Konig?

His eyes looked like they were burning with irritation, though they had a hint of…

Jealousy?

His gaze narrowed on Konig who was looking at me with pitiful eyes, who looked at me like he wanted to say something more but didn't.

My head slowly rose to look up at Konig. My eyes were glassy as I looked up at him slowly, my lashes fluttering. He kept his hands on my waist, just looking down at me. That's when I realized Konig wasn't looking at me anymore, his eyes were focused on Ghost.

“I’m sorry…” I whispered, though I wasn't sure if he could hear me over the chattering in the mess hall.

That's right, I forgot that's where we were. It felt like everyone else was invisible when I saw Ghost, like I could only catch his gaze and that was it.

“Warum guckt er sie so an?!” König muttered beneath his mask. I looked up at König again, my head slightly cocking to the side at his comment. (Why does he look at her like that?!)

“Huh?” I asked quietly, my hands balled in front of me.

“Nothing.” he mumbled, his eyes quickly going back to mine. I glanced slowly back at the door, trying to see Ghost once more.

But he was gone, the tall Brit that stood there, watching, was now gone.

All I could see was the people chattering, not even noticing me and König, thank god.

“Im so sor-“ I started quickly before König cut me off.

“Don’t be sorry, its not your fault hes-“ König stopped himself from saying anything more. I gave König a slightly puzzled look when he abruptly stopped talking.

“Just don’t be sorry.” he restated, not bothering to add the extra words he was about to say.

Oh.

I just sat there on the bench, pondering in my own thoughts, pondering on what he was going to say. However thats when König stood up from the bench, no longer feeling his large hands on my waist.

“I have to go, schatz. But please, please, don’t be sorry, everything will be okay.” he assured as he rubbed my shoulder slightly, his accent dripping off of his words.

His words were sweet, so sweet. Almost like poison, leaving me slowly wanting more of his comfort, more of his touch.

I gave him a curt nod as I looked up at him, wiping my face with my sleeve while I watched König walk away.

I felt so alone all over again, my red puffy eyes returning like a bad hangover.

Another cold water splash for me.

I pulled myself from my thoughts, I needed to leave, I just needed to get out.

I started to force myself up from the bench, lowering my head to not let anyone see my tear stained face, and red puffy eyes. I began to walk briskly out of the mess hall, not bothering to to looking behind me as I reached the door.

For some odd reason when I reached the door my eyes wandered. I looked left and right, high and low, just to see if he was there.

If Ghost was there.

I shook my head and started walking quickly, the chattering and bickering slowly fading as I quietly walked out of the the mess hall, returning back to the uncomfortably quiet halls.

Finally returning back to the empty barracks I grabbed the cold door handle and swung open the door. Only to have warm air hit me as soon as it opened.

Great.

I walked over to the bathroom, reaching my hand up to the light switch. The yellow toned flickering light flooding the bathroom.

I sighed when I saw my face. Looking up to see my eyes were bloodshot, my under eyes no longer purple, they were red and puffy.

Just what I need.

I scoffed at my own thoughts before turning the sink on, letting the water run to a freezing temperature before finally lowering my head to splash my face with the water.

It felt like a sense of relief as the first drop hit my face, almost feeling like someone was running an ice cube across my face.

I continued to let the water hit me. My face gradually becoming warm because of the cold.

Though it gave me time to think, should I apologize to him?

Him was Ghost, I just couldn’t get him out of my head. The way he stared at me and König in the mess hall lingered in my mind like König’s cologne hitting my nose.

Wait- why am I even thinking about both of them?

I turned off the water and groaned. Wiping the droplets away from my eyes as I looked in the mirror once again. This time there was no redness,

well maybe except my nose that was cold now.

I grabbed a towel and roughly dried my face, before tossing the towel on my sink as I flicked off the light.

Leaning down I unzipped my boots,slipping them off I stood on the hot hardwood floor before I slumped on my bed. Letting all my worries slip slightly as I hit the hard mattress, the springs beneath me rattling slightly.

Why do I feel like this?

What am I feeling towards both of them-

What is even happening?

I laid on my bed, my feet slightly above the ground as I contemplated everything. I wanted to work things out between me and Ghost, but the look in his eyes when he saw me with König.

Not to mention König gripping me tighter when he saw Ghost.

The AC turning on erased my thoughts,

Finally, it’s hotter than the pits of hell in here.

My own thoughts were driving me crazy, I couldn’t stand to be alone with them anymore.

I guess thats it? I apologize and all of this stops?

I groaned getting up off my bed, my feet hitting the cold ground. No thick pair of socks can save you once the AC turns on.

I hobbled over to my boots, zipping them up quickly trying to get my poor feet off the cold hardwood.

Stumbling over my own feet I finally reached my door, carefully opening it, unlike how I swung it open 10 minutes ago.

The warm air of the halls hit me as I walked into them, slowly closing my door behind me.

Creeeeeek.

Was all I heard as my door closed. Cringing at the noise I started my journey to Ghosts office.

Roaming the halls it still held the same uncomfortable silence, odd.

My boots clicked and clacked as I ventured closer and closer to his office, my veins starting to pump with adrenaline as I drew closer.

My stomach churned with unease,

what would I say?

I didn’t even rehearse this!

Though my body had a mind of its own. As I drowned in my thoughts I finally realized I was standing in front of Ghosts office.

Good lord help me.

I was knocking on his door before I could even second guess myself.

Knock,

Knock,

Kno-

My first was still in the air when Ghost cracked the door open slightly, peering out to see who was knocking.

His eyes held an irritated gaze when he opened the door after realizing it was me. When his door opened enough to where I could see him fully, the smell of cigarettes and cologne wafted in my nose.

“Do you need something?” he grumbled, his brown eyes piercing through me.

“I uhm-“ I stammered, forget what I said earlier, I should have never came here.

“Cat got your tongue?” his eyes narrowed while his brows furrowed in annoyance, he was obviously not happy.

I let out a quick sigh as I fidgeted with my nails behind my back, “M’sor-“ I started quietly as he cut me off.

What is with them and cutting people off?

“Why.” he stated, nothing more, nothing less. His eyes holding no emotion to go off of anymore.

“Why?” I questioned as I stood outside of his doorway, my facial expression painted with confusion.

“Why?” he scoffed a pause, “Why were his hands all over you?” his voice was gruff when he spoke to me, his bulky figure leaning on the door frame.

I stared back at Ghost who was staring at me dead in the face. My eyes widened with surprise at his words, even his tone.

“What, do I have to elaborate for you?” he growled, his voice becoming rougher as his eyes bored into my soul.

“I- What?” I stumbled over my words, desperately trying to find the ones that were stuck in my throat. I stared blankly at him, my nails stinging from my consistent picking. Unease coursing through my frozen body.

He let out an exaggerated sigh before grabbing my wrist and pulling me into his office, slamming the door on my way in.

I let out a quiet yelp as he grabbed my wrist and dragged me into his office, the slamming door making my body jolt.

He spun me around, my back facing his desk as be grabbed my hips roughly.

“Ghost-“ My face flushed a pretty shade of pink, an unwanted shade of pink, right?

“Ghost get off of me!” I demanded as I pushed his hands off of me, stumbling as I tripped backwards into his desk.

What was he doing?

He looked at me with hungry eyes, jealousy and hunger. Though his eyes flashed with a hint of surprise as I pushed him back.

He didn’t say anything, both of us just stood there in an uncomfortable silence. His muscles tensing slightly when I pulled away.

“What the hell- Why would you put your hands on me?” I broke the silence, my eyes flashing with confusion- irritation even. I was so lost and confused.

“And why would you let him touch you like that?!” he countered, his husky voice getting lower as he took small steps towards me.

My blood ran cold as he started to walk towards me, I felt helpless as his eyes flashed with an unsettling look.

“I-“ my voice was caught in my throat, a lump was there was was impossible to choke down.

“Why does it matter to you?” I finally choked out. But that was probably the worst choice of words I could have picked.

‘Because I care about you.’

His words rang in my head, practically running circles.

Though a shadowy figure broke me from my thoughts when I realized he was standing directly in front of me, his bulky figure looming over mine.

His palms rested on the cool wooden desk my back laid against.

“What are you-“ my words got lost as he cupped my chin harshly forcing me look up at him.

My body shuddered, I stayed frozen. My mouth hung open, desperately trying to say words that fell on deaf ears.

I couldn’t speak, I physically couldn’t, my words hung in the air like a sheet swaying in the wind on a clothes line.

“Why would you let him touch you, [name].” his voice was low and husky. It didn’t even sound like a question anymore, it felt like a command.

Like he was commanding me to stay helpless beneath him, commanding me to answer his ‘questions’.

More like demands.

“Thats none of your business Ghost- Get off of me!” I shouted, my voice trembling slightly as I tried to use my palms to push him back,

but to no avail.

He was anticipating this, Ghost stood tall like a brick wall in front of me. Keeping my cheeks in his rough gloved hand.

I was stuck.

lmk if yall want a pt 2 cuz this is over a year old😭😭 maybe ill have motivation

[barbs111claims]

Hi

So 2 years ago I wanted to kill myself but then I had a huge “spiritual awakening” where I say things beyond human comprehension. And from that moment I decided to give life a chance, I knew that life actually had a meaning and that was for me to discover what was beyond what I could think. It gave my so much clarity of the world around me and who I was. From that moment I also started to randomly consciously manifest things without knowing about manifesting. I’m not kidding when I say this but in that time I manifested 6 million overnight while I was just kidding about being a millionaire while listening to my rich music and then when I woke up my parents had the good news. I also manifested others things that I thought where extremely special. But I didn’t really put in effort it was just fun experimenting with my powers.

So then I decided to deepen myself in the laws. I started with law of attraction. And I ended up meditating so deeply everyday that I was so passionate about finding the ultimate truth of reality inside me, that I was extremely depersonalised from my 3D and basically lived inside my brain. I could ask things and receive answers on my questions, like the one time i asked how to invent something that could end humanity ( I still have a full doc on how to build to most effective machine that could end humanity in less than second) I also got the answer of questions about reality and my vessel. So that’s when I realised there was nothing but me. And that I was experiencing myself from the experience of myself ( if that makes sense!) I found that there really was nothing and everything at once while I was giving meaning to it. So that’s when I started with extreme anxiety and depression because I struggled so much with intrusive thoughts, not being able to ground myself in this reality and being so so scared of my thoughts. Still to this day my thoughts scare me so much that I can’t help but experience anything other than fear from myself. It’s like I’m living in a constant nightmare. I have watched so much law of assumption post and videos dedicating every second of my day on being focused and disciplined to affirming and being in the state of having what I want, but it makes me so fuckiyn angry and I don’t know why. Everytime I see a post I feel depressed because deep down I know everything but everyday I wake up in the same reality where everything fucking sucks ( I have been forcing myself to be kind self love gratitude letting go void state visualisation whatever exist I’ve done it all) and when I finally have build up that trust that everything is working out in my highest favour and I always get what I want and the 3D can’t tell me nothing yk I can delude myself into knowing I have it but it’s been over a year and I just can’t bear this reality anymore I know I’m meant for another reality and there’s just nothing for me to find here anymore. And I really don’t know what to do anymore I feel like I’m stuck in this reality where everything seems to get worse. And my thoughts are also getting worded everyday for the last year but whenever I tried manifesting a better self concept mindset etc it got worse when i don’t even want to be the person that is in conflict with themsef because that’s just a idiotic thing to do. But can you help me out?🫶

wow. Thanks for sharing your struggles I'm sure it wasn't easy.

I really want to say that we all ARE Master Manifestors. Either consciously or unconsciously. It is amazing how you found your powers earlier but also I want you to understand that there is nothing to be afraid of because "Good or bad" doesn't exist to I AM. They are just Human made concepts.

I AM is I AM.

It is being. It is the vessel that comprehends, desires and thru I AM, it gets what it want.

I would suggest you to go back meditating and just focus on the day, your thoughts and journal them and do some introspection.

Every time you have a negative thought, observe them and ask why you have that. Is it the vessel's fear or your fear? (short ans: It's your vessel's)

So as we know the creation is already done. I AM exists anywhere, It is our decision to choose what we want. I know having that power might go good or cause anxiety but the truth is that it is so freeing.

Think of the times when you manifested and the fulfilment. Feel that feeling again.

Free yourself, you aren't gonna 'manifest' anything bad to yourself truly because you are the god of your reality and god doesn't worry for being a god.

And if you still have worries, Loa is basically Law of assumptions so just assume that every time a negative thought pops, your new story manifest quicker. BE CRAZY. It's your reality<3

(btw your thoughts or your mindset getting worse are just affirmations, you can ditch the old story any moment now)

[lovefrombegonia]

Shen Jiu should make dark jokes about his time as a slave but no one gets the jokes coz everyone thinks he is a spoilt young lord from a noble family.

(Except, Yue Qingyuan. He gets it. He is currently screaming, wailing inside coz sometimes SJ is a bit too detailed JUST to make him feel even MORE guilty.)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Flower Empowered.

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