#actually makes me want to scream and cry and throw up etc

[acedavestrider]

i love love love how gerard lets the crowd sing that part of mama like he gets it

[instantpansies]

formal literary analysis is just fanfic for nerds

[fortythealien]

The only thing he could sense was a splotch of crimson in his sight and the taste of iron in his mouth. His limbs were unresponsive. — He must have died.

The monster swallowed him again, but this time, his enemy is not another person. The imposing armor stayed quiet. He was grappled and imprisoned within those pair of arms. The speaker was the woman with sunglasses.

"Listen, I can always kill you again, otherwise I can't bring you back." Her voice was very gentle, and even the monster inside his body stayed silent to listen to her. "But I don't want to." The woman leaned down and whispered in his ear. It was a deal he couldn't refuse. "What do you people want?" "Is there anything more satisfying than seeing how the undying die? That's what 'he' said."

The giant armor loosened its arms. "Destiny" was ahead, and he will be leaving with them. "Listen, Bladie, loosen up." "Listen, don't think about anything at all." He nodded. The woman walked to his side, smiling. Yet he thought her smile looked very sad. "Maybe someone left her before they could listen to everything she had to say," he thought.

-Blade's Character Story: Part III

I love how tender Kafka and Blade's relationship is.

Pretty much every time Blade's onscreen he's getting hurt, going berserk, bleeding, killing, beating up his ex husband's boyfriend's son, etc...

Except Kafka's companion quest, where he is calm and sedate (and engaging in some very elaborate sensory deprivation/hypnotism kink, which, I'm jealous, but whatever)

ANYWAY. Kafka, known for being a ruthless, borderline sadistic dominatrix, does not have to do all this for him. They could've and should've left the Xianzhou sooner, but she has to stop and make sure Blade's okay. And there's just something about the way she talks about him. She literally cannot feel fear, but there's an intense need to keep him from suffering unnecessarily.

And Blade appreciates it! Most of Blade's party join lines are vaguely annoyed or a little threatening, but when he sees Kafka in the team, he's happy. He's even a little silly! He's excited to kick ass with his best friend!

I think it all boils down to the fact that Blade doesn't trust anything - not his past friends, not his hands, sometimes not even his own mind.. but he trusts Kafka, and I think that's beautiful

[machveil]

First things first: *deep inhale* AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH So so so so good! Mentally framing my wedding certificates to these silly lil men! Screaming, crying, throwing up, frothing at the mouth, flailing on my beg, kicking my legs and feet! Amaaaaaaazing! Something my daydreams cooked up when I was half-awake this morning: Imagine the rest of TF141 catching Simon on his phone more even during meetings and out in the field, seemingly checking his texts and when possible calling someone regularly, making a point to be away from the guys when talking. When they ask, he answers them casually, dismissing it as him checking in on the house-sitter he hired because of how often he's gone and how he hates coming back to dust and expired food. Naturally, given that Simon is the type to hate anyone in his space, especially someone he doesn't know, the boys (read: Johnny) are very curious. This leads to them (read again: Johnny) sneaking around trying to eavesdrop. Whether or not they catch him sounding softer while he listens to the person on the other side, him humming and chiming in while he goes about scrubbing his boots or inspecting his knives, is up to you. Is the reader actually his house-sitter? Yes, but Simon's also asking how their day was, how they're doing, things that are not even remotely related to his place that he may or may not be letting them stay in full-time because they were living in a shoddy apartment with poor plumbing and bugs and he just can't have that. He thanks them when they say they cleaned the windows, asks if they like that book they mentioned buying last week, how's their latest hobby going, etc. Simon Riley is a domestic man, and anyone arguing otherwise can pry it from my cold, dead hands! -🐸 Also I hope I never make you feel pressured to respond or write something, I just want to share my brainrot

ough, no no, keep them coming lol your brainrot is top tier! in fact, I implore people to send me CoD brainrot - the English student me yearns to write

Someone at Home

it’s normal for someone to make calls - Simon “Ghost” Riley isn’t just someone though. reserved man that he is, isn’t it suspicious that he keeps reaching for his phone? Johnny thinks so CW: gn!reader but Johnny says ‘lass’ once as an assumption, shenanigans

no one notices at first - it starts slow. Ghost’s phone is set to vibrate, his incoming call ringtone is barely audible, but Johnny picks up on it. reserved Lieutenant that he is, for as long as Soap has known Ghost, as long as Johnny has been friends with Simon, Ghost doesn’t pick up calls on base

his new habit caught Soap’s eye, at first just receiving calls, but when Ghost starts calling someone? oh, Soap knows when something is up. “Got a lass at home, L.T., someone keeping ya bed warm?”, it’s teasing, tone lighthearted when Soap asks. it catches him off guard when Ghost looks him dead in the eyes, “Housekeeper. Jus’ checkin’ in, yeah?”, his voice was a little more stern than Soap would have imagined. a housekeeper, huh? he had his doubts, but he’d rather make it a game, try to figure it out for himself

Ghost used to have his phone completely silenced, only rarely turning notifications on when he was on leave - rarely, because even then he might just not feel like it. but now? this supposed housekeeper has Ghost leaving meetings when he can, ditching the gym to go out into the hallway

this housekeeper, apparently Ghost’s flat is high maintenance. daily calls at least once, Soap’s keeping track, most he’s called was five times. Ghost would always brush him off, mumble something about his air conditioner or a door hinge. always so vague, the first month had Soap scratching his stubble trying to piece Ghost’s life together - his life on the other end of that phone

it doesn’t help that Ghost is extremely secretive while texting. phone held down to his lap, his back hunched as he types with both thumbs. it’s very guarded, his gaze locked to his screen. he’s practically dead to the world when he’s doing this, mumbled words leaving his lips when he hears ‘Ghost’ or ‘L.T.’

Johnny tried to hover over his shoulder once, “Who’s that? Ya wee housekeeper, Ghost?”. before he could see anything, Soap let out a startled noise when Ghost’s hand pressed against his face - a quick shove was all it took for him to stumble back. “Mind ya business.”, was all Johnny got from Ghost, voice gruff and low as he turned his phone off

it was so alien to Soap, not the guarded nature of Ghost’s actions, just the fact someone was able to take Ghost’s full attention. and full attention isn’t an understatement, Soap could swear Ghost was smiling under his balaclava. he’s seen the crinkle around his eyes when his phone buzzes, how fast he is to check a notification now

maybe that’s why Soap turns to stealth - tailing Ghost when he steps out into the hall, or standing outside a door to listen to him. sure, Soap can only hear one end of his conversation, but that alone is fascinating. he’s used to Ghost’s gruff voice, a man of few words

but with his housekeeper? Soap’s a little awestruck at how often Ghost— Simon laughs. because, maybe it’s just Soap, but this isn’t the Ghost he’s familiar with, he’s being personable, a tad more talkative. his voice doesn’t carry weight to it, unburdened as he talks into the phone. that’s Simon Riley, a rarity on base

and then he hears Simon refer to them, this supposed housekeeper. “Love— no, I told you. You can’t use the window in the bathroom, it sticks. No, I know— bloody hell, when I get home I’ll fix it.”, ‘love’, such a sweet endearment coming from his low, gravely voice. it has a smirk tugging on Soap’s lips, eyes gleaming with amusement

oh, he’d love to tease Ghost over this. he does have someone keeping his bed warm, someone he cares enough about he’s using pet names. he hears Ghost say his goodbyes, about to turn around and leave when he freezes. “Get a good earful, Johnny?”, Ghost’s voice coming from behind the door, Soap’s shoulders falling

all he can do is sigh and peak into the room, Ghost standing with his arms crossed as Soap sulks in, “Aye, I did, L.T., I did… but I was right.”, he chuckles, walking up to Ghost, “Gonna introduce us to your ‘love’?”

[pradabambie]

Hi, I don't know if you're taking any requests but I decided to throw it in nonetheless.

Could you write like an angsty fic where the reader and Rafe have a fight and Rafe, as usual, gets crazy, angry, irritated etc like he usually does, but the reader actually stands up for herself instead of just crying about it.

You absolutely don't have to write this if you don't want to.

loved this request! we all love sub reader but i agree it's time she stands up for herself hehe

hope u like it! lmk if you'd like a part two 🫶🏻

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you knew, going into this relationship, that rafe had issues—his dysfunctional family, his drug habits, his questionable new “friends”. 

you couldn't entirely blame him when he first showed some toxic personality traits: controlling, jealous, paranoid, and untrusting.  

despite his flaws, you'd always supported him, helping him turn his life around, standing by him even when others turned their backs on him. 

he had come a long way since you started dating, but his jealousy never ceased.  

initially, you brushed it off, reminding yourself he was just upset, that his words didn't truly reflect his feelings. 

but today was the breaking point. 

he was screaming at you for simply picking up your phone that had fallen at the golf course, bending down in your skirt, in front of his friends. 

"it's not my fault it fell, okay, rafe?" you felt your anger rising. why was he yelling at you over such a small and stupid thing? 

"shut up, you brat!" he grabbed your arm so hard you were sure it was going to leave a bruise. "you're such a slut. trying to get my rich friends’ attention, yeah? what a whore" his eyes glaring at you as he spat the venomous words in your face. 

his words cut deeper than ever before. 

you pushed him away with all your strength, but he barely budged. 

"fuck you, rafe! you call me names and push me away when i'm the only one who's been there for you?" tears blurred your vision. "i'm done. i need some time away from you. i-i can't take this anymore." 

realization hit rafe like a ton of bricks. he called your name desperately as you stormed out, but you didn't turn back. 

alone in the room, he ran his hands through his hair before punching the wall in frustration. he fucked up badly, and he knew it. 

a concerned sarah arrived shortly after your call, listening as you recounted the fight with her brother. 

"he's an asshole, okay?" she wiped a tear from your cheek. "he doesn't deserve you. i don't even know why you're with him." 

"i-i love him," you whispered brokenly, "but i can't handle the jealousy and accusations anymore." 

sarah decided to distract you. 

"let's get some ice cream, okay? then we'll go to the beach, and jj can cheer you up. he always makes you laugh," she offered with a comforting smile. 

"thank you, s. i'd love that." 

[aimedis]

sam as a dad headcanons (+darlin') !!

sam and darlin' have one daughter (girl dad sam girl dad sam girl dad sam) ((this is like half darlin'-centric actually))

(note, there are a lot of inconsistencies with how these two would even have kids, what magical race their daughter would be (vamp-shifter hybrid), darlin's life span etc. but pls for the sake of my sanity pretend it makes sense lol)

Parents Darlin' and Sam who took a reallyyy long time to decide if they even wanted to have kids

Dad Sam who thought he wouldn't even know how to be a good dad, let alone if he wanted to have kids in the first place

Parent Darlin' who thought they were far too flawed and violent to raise a child

However, after a few years and slight jealousy from other pack parents, they decided to try

Parents Darlin' and Sam who regret not making up their minds sooner the second their daughter opens her eyes

Dad Sam who calls his daughter '(mini) darlin'" because she’s Darlin’s carbon copy

Dad Sam who also calls her 'sunshine' if she's particularly upset

Dad Sam who was far too paranoid to take his eyes off of his daughter when they first brought her home as a newborn (and he could afford to watch over her during the night/morning because he's a vampire)

Dad Sam who feels his heart shatter every time she cries

Parent Darlin' who finds themselves competing with a four year old for their mate's attention

Dad Sam who effortlessly flips between doting dad and disciplinary parent

Dad Sam who is surprisingly good at defusing the (many) tantrums his daughter throws, not getting mad but just sitting with and talking to her calmly

Parents Darlin' and Sam who were very much one and done (their daughter is too much of a handful to have any more kids)

Parent Darlin' who thinks it's both a blessing and a curse to have a daughter that acts exactly like them because on one hand, they have a mini-me and they can tell how she’ll react to certain situations but she also has their reckless nature and gives them a heart attack every other day (they find themselves yelling “Cut it out!” every single day without even looking at her)

Dad Sam who knows his daughter is just as strong as his mate but still worries over everything concerning her

Parent Darlin' and Sam who are still confused at how their toddler is so damn strong

Dad Sam who sobbed his eyes out when their daughter started school ("Wow, Sammy, you're crying almost as much as our four-year-old.")

Dad Sam who catches himself being too overbearing or protective sometimes and has to learn to let his daughter fail and get hurt occasionally

Also Dad Sam who after a few years of being her dad, becomes desensitized to her hurting herself daily (if she's not crying, he doesn't care anymore. a simple 'you good?' will do)

Dad Sam who said you would never catch him playing princesses or dress up (cue Darlin' laughing their lungs out at the sight of him in a way too tight princess dress getting his makeup done by their daughter)

Dad Sam who absolutely laughs when his daughter starts calling his Darlin' "darlin'" because of how often he calls them that

Dad Sam who is absolutely his daughter's favourite parent until Darlin' steps into the room (she will scream and cry to be in their arms)

Parents Darlin and Sam who have a very clingy very aggressive toddler that wants to be held 24/7 but will also start trying to fight them at random

Parent Darlin' who, after their daughter shifts for the first time, always play fights with her while shifted

Parent Darlin' who is constantly being forced to read at bedtime by their daughter

Dad Sam who rocks his daughter all the time in the rocking chair in her room

Parent Darlin' who finds themselves doing the high pitched baby voice they always found annoying to their daughter without even realizing it

Dad Sam who gets incredibly excited whenever his daughter's slight country accent comes out a little stronger

Dad Sam who feels his inner child heal little by little whenever he talks to his daughter the way he wished he was spoken to as a child

Parent Darlin' who acts annoyed when their daughter takes a liking to David but is silently happy she has a good relationship with him

Dad Sam who lets his daughter play wrestle with him just to laugh at her when she cries thinking she killed her dad

Dad Sam who tries not to cry whenever his daughter says he's the best dad ever

Parents Darlin' and Sam who show their daughter the same respect they want to see from her because it sets an example and she responds well to that

They are both so calm and understanding about her little temper tantrums that they don't even last long ("I know, it's hard and your feelings are too much right now. We're not gonna hit people though, okay? Okay.")

Dad Sam who has been wrapped around his daughter's finger since the day he laid eyes on her

[imtooscaredforthis]

Entrapment

Chapter Twenty Nine: Broken In

Mentions of: Explicit Sexual Content, Dubcon/noncon themes, cutting/knife usage, choking and violence, etc.

A/N: I’m not dead, I promise!! Just drowning in school life and all that

Tags: @elentiyaiswriting @dead-bxxxtch-walking @vandeaad @mama-miya @the-fandoms-georgie

For what felt like years, everything went dark. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. You stood there, frozen in place. Shocked, scared, broken. Once again, he had won. Once again, he had beaten you. Once again, had terrorized you, always managing to shake you to your core, no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

The next thing you knew, you had taken off, sprinting as fast as you could. You made your way back to your apartment, not even bothering to see if he was following. Once you got there, you slammed the door behind you and bolted it shut, running to the windows and double checking to make sure they were locked.

And then, you finally broke.

“Fuck!” You screamed, grabbing a chair from the kitchen table and throwing it across the room. You slammed your fist into the table in front of you, beating at it. Rachel was gone. She was actually gone and it was all your fault. Just like Lucia and Jesse.

Your knuckles were bloodied, and you didn’t even realize you were crying until you could hear your broken sobs, and feel your cheeks getting all wet. You slumped down, resting your body against the kitchen counter, letting yourself cry. Your body felt so sore and heavy, you just wanted to rest. You just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up again.

“Oh, poor baby girl.” A sadistic voice cooed. There he was out of nowhere, looming above you.

He reached across, running his gloved fingers over your cheek and brushing the tears away. “It’s not your fault. You tried warning her, but she didn’t listen. Stupid bitch.”

That made you snap. You smacked his hand away, reaching up and grabbing the knife on your counter. “Don’t touch me, you sadistic piece of shit. I’ll fucking kill you.”

In an instant, he tackled you, grabbing your arm and pinning you to the ground. One hand was on your wrist, the other wrapped around your throat. “Oh, so that’s what you want to do, huh? You want to hurt me? You want to kill me? Do it.”

His grip loosened around your throat and he tugged your hand, positioning it so you had the knife resting right at the center of his chest. You could easily kill him from there, press hard enough and slice through an aorta, but you didn’t. You couldn’t and he knew that. With a shaky hand, you pressed slightly, but then pulled away.

Even if you wanted him to hurt, even if you wanted him to pay, you didn’t want to be like him. You weren’t a murderer. You weren’t a monster like him. He tsked in response, yanking the knife from your hands and clenching your throat again.

“It’s sad. I really hoped you would have it in you. But you always have to fight it.” He leaned in, letting his mask rest against your cheek. “Maybe you like me too much.”

“Fuck you.” You spat angrily.

“You already did, sweetheart, and we both know you loved it.” He forced his thumb into your mouth, pressing the knife to your throat. You had no other choice but to wrap your lips around the digit, letting him push it to the back of your throat.

“Such a filthy slutty mouth. I should really do something about it, shouldn’t I? Make you my good girl all over again.” You were basically choking on the leather at this point, the metallic taste of blood on them making your eyes sting. You wanted to fight him, you wanted to bite his thumb off.

After a few long moments, he pulled away, leaving you drooling and gasping for air. Once you found your voice, you spoke again. “I’m not yours, and I never will be. I hate you. You’re disgusting.”

“Then why are you soaked through your panties right now, huh?” He pressed his thigh against your crotch, grinding it against you. You jolted from the sudden hard sensation against your clothed clit, a surprised moan slipping from your lips.

You were soaked. Why did your body react this way? Why did your body want this, when your mind was fighting so hard against it? What was wrong with you?

He grinded his thigh against your cunt harder, giving you more delicious friction. You couldn’t help but buck your hips against him. “Yeah, that’s it. Fuck yourself on my thigh like the little slut you are. Does that feel good?”

You bit your lip, holding back a moan and refusing to respond. He dug his knife into your neck, drawing blood. You hissed in pain. “Answer me, whore.”

“Yes.” You mewled, grinding against him, feeling that coil in your stomach tighten.

You shut your eyes, trying to pretend that you weren’t here, doing this with him. That it was anybody else. It helped slightly, except for the chilling feeling of the knife pressing against your skin as a reminder. He gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Keep them open.” He hissed, reaching down and pushing your panties aside, rubbing your clit roughly. You arched your back, your eyes flying open, coming face to face with his mask. His other hand pinched your cheeks, holding you in place. “Good girl.”

The next thing you knew, he had you pushed over the edge, letting you grind against his thigh as you worked yourself through your high, moaning and mewling.

He wrapped his arms around you, carrying you back to the bedroom. Your legs felt like jelly when he placed you down on the bed, and you heard the familiar clinking of his belt. He was on top of you this time, removing parts of his robe. You should be looking at him and everything he revealed, memorizing all of it and putting the pieces together. But before you could even think he was inside you and thrusting at an intoxicating pace.

“Fuck.” You choked out as you felt him wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze. Your eyes fluttered as he hit that spot every time.

“Isn’t it so much better when you don’t fight it? When you give in? Doesn’t it feel so good?” He hisses into your ear.

You found yourself nodding, unable to speak or think, just feel. Just like he wanted. He was winning. He had won time and time again, and you were tired of fighting. Tonight, you let yourself give in. You let yourself get lost in the pleasure and just feel.

He made you cum on his cock multiple times, switching positions and moving you like a doll, making you feel like a toy for him to use. You moaned and held onto him, cumming so hard that you were getting dizzy and you couldn’t even recognize the sounds you were making anymore.

It was probably the fourth time, (or maybe the fifth, you were losing count) when he had you on your knees while he thrusted in from behind. Your legs were shaking, threatening to give out, but he kept you up with one arm around your waist. His other groped your breast, enjoying how the flesh bounced in his hand.

“Ghostface, Ghostface.” You moaned, and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head. He leaned over and kissed you, and you barely comprehend that his mask was off and you could feel his stubble scraping against your jaw.

“Danny, baby. Call me Danny.” He crooned into your ear, biting the skin softly.

“Danny.” You let slip, hearing him groan in pleasure, his cock pulsating a little from your words. He kissed you again. “Good fucking girl. My good girl. Keep gripping my cock, just like that.”

He wrapped an arm around your neck, and you could feel yourself getting all light headed as he pounded inside. He was fucking you even harder, enjoying how you tightened from the lack of oxygen. He hit that spot over and over, making you see stars and pushing you over the edge. He came with you, biting into your shoulder so hard that he drew blood.

You felt him lay you down and bed, the familiar flash of a camera stinging your eyes and breaking you out of your daze ever so slightly. You didn’t care. You couldn’t. You were too exhausted, and you let yourself drift off.

[fun-k-board]

AAAA YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!! :3333 could I maybe request CG Storm and CG Rogue? Maybe them and a little reader who’s a bit on the fussy/ tantrum-y side?

Thank you!!!!! ^^ (u probably know who this is but I’m too scared to come off anon 😭)

X-MEN '97 - Little reader who's fussy and tends to have tantrums

SFW INTERACTION ONLY!! AGE REGRESSION IS NOT A KINK!!

Note(s): HEHHE I KNOW!! It's alright tbh I'm terrified of coming off anon too (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

Powered through writing this because you're cool as hell and I like you! 💪 I don't and didn't really have the most idk 'attentive' family, so I'm not the best judge on how to take care of kids or people in a kids mindset, I may be a little bad at writing for caregivers and age regression in general because of this.

ANNA MARIE DARKHÖLME / ROGUE

'Hey, hey now sugah, let's calm down, you don't want to go in time out and I don't want to send ya. Explain to me why you don't like the food, I'm perfectly alright gettin' you somethin' different, there ain't no need to get upset.'

Anna can sometimes tell when you're about to have a tantrum or become more fussy than usual, even if you tend to take a while to throw a full fit, she'll watch you carefully and try to prevent one from fully forming. Gently kissing you on the forehead and brushing back your hair, asking what's wrong with a worried look on her face.

The moment you start yelling, kicking, or even crying, maybe after ignoring her question, she finds it hard not to just fold and give you what you want, after all, you're just so cute. However, her sense of responsibility and care for you overwhelms her need to coddle you.

Anna will say your name firmly, getting you to pay attention to her, and only her. She'll get a tissue for you and wipe your tears away, and ask firmly what you're sad or angry about and if you could possibly explain it to her.

If you can't verbally, for whatever reason, she'll give you the opportunity to write it on paper or she'll play a guessing game with you, the guessing game is only for when you're extremely upset and need cheering up though.

If you explain, in whatever format you need to, that you're upset because of an issue that's causing you distress, maybe food triggered sensory issues, someone was mean to you, etc, then she'll let you off the hook because you clearly didn't mean to cause any harm and you were just acting out.

Rogue will give you a bit of a talking to, telling you that crying and throwing things makes it difficult to help, but that's about it. Given it's not your fault she isn't actually too mad, she just wants you to understand that she won't know how to help if you're kicking and screaming.

If, however, your outburst was because of a silly reason, say you don't like the colour crayons and you throw them at her, she won't be as quick to accept it and move on.

She's still very sympathetic and won't ever raise her voice at you, even when you've done something especially terrible for no apparent reason.

Anna is very lenient and her 'punishments' usually just include a minute or so sitting in the corner, maybe withholding drawing from you for the day, but she always makes sure to explain in detail why you're being punished and it's usually only a last resort.

Rogue is very sweet even when she's being stern, her eyes can't help but go soft and her tone slips from that firm scolding one she uses when you're being bad, to a sweet almost coo-like baby voice.

Afterwards she comforts you like there's no tomorrow, telling you that she didn't want to hurt your feelings by taking away something or sending you to the corner, but you just need to learn some manners and how to handle yourself.

If you're fussy in terms of only liking clothes of a certain colour, food cut or made in a certain way, or things being done in a particular order, she absolutely doesn't mind doing these things for you! When it comes to cooking Rogue tends to ask for Gambit's help, she's not the worst cook in the world, but she can't do it like Remy can.

When it comes to removing parts of food, maybe you like to remove the crusts of bread and have them separate or not at all, she'll happily cut them off for you and maybe even eat the crusts while talking to you.

Sometimes she matches clothes with you! After all, 'If you like these clothes, they must be the best ones they got!' She says with a grin.

ORORO MUNROE / STORM

'My child, it's important to remember your manners when speaking to those around you. I am not angry, but you must tell me what is wrong if I am to correct my mistake or you are able to grow.'

The moment she notices you starting to throw a tantrum, which is fairly fast even if your signs are just a deep frown, asking you if everythings alright and most of the time avoiding any tantrums before they begin.

However, sometimes you refuse to tell her what's wrong, perhaps you go straight to throwing toys or food, pouting, yelling, in replying she will simply hold a gentle hand on your shoulder and kindly repeat her question on what the matter is. Her tone is gentle and her face is one of genuine concern.

Like Rogue, if you're in distress because of something that's not your fault, or maybe you're just overwhelmed, she will never hold it against you at all. If you're comfortable with it and it's something you need to calm down, Storm will pick you up and give you a tight hug, if not, she's alright with just holding a hand on your shoulder, or even removing her hand and only speaking to you.

Ororo will get on one knee, bending down to speak to you in a hushed whisper, she'll tell you that it's all okay, that she'll help you and make it better, give you different food, turn off the lights, whatever you need, she can give it to you.

However, if you're just being fussy to perhaps get a reaction out of her, she'll raise her brow in an almost amused action, as if she finds your attempts to be aggravating as cute as a cat nibbling on its owner's hand. If you're throwing a fit just to throw one, she will definitely tell you sternly that you cannot do such things, at least not in her care.

I don't think that Storm is the type to use the corner or naughty step as a punishment, after all, she has her own fear of tight, dark places, you may fear loneliness, or abandonment, she does not wish her own troubles onto a mind like yours.

Instead, she talks to you, more importantly, she'll help you figure out what you did wrong, how to improve next time, and reflect on her own actions to see if the trouble was caused by a mistake on her part. It won't be an in depth conversation, she tends to use stuffed animals as an aid to show you an outsiders perspective.

If you're struggling with saying your words out loud, never fear, she has tons of paper and crayons, or pencils, pen, markers, etc if that's what you prefer, just for you! She keeps them in her room for whenever you regress and want to keep near her when doing so.

Ororo will advise you to draw your feelings, maybe even write a letter if that's more what you're comfortable with. She doesn't mind bad spelling or handwriting, she's quite good at deciphering even the most atrociously unintelligible handwriting.

At most, and only if you've been really bad, she'll lead you to your room, or hers, just to make sure you don't get embarrassed and act out further. Storm will tell you what you did wrong as firmly as she can so that you'll understand. It's only a light scolding though, she never ever raises her voice when you're around unless you need or want her to.

If she ever does raise her voice and it startles or frightens you, she will apologise, regardless of if you've done something wrong or not. It's never her intention to harm you, you've entrusted her to care for you and she will do anything in her power to achieve that goal.

If your fussiness is about certain clothes, textures, toys, etc, she absolutely doesn't mind exclusively getting you certain clothes or toys, and she won't be angry at all if you throw a tantrum over texture or taste, because she's fully aware it can be distressing to have an unfavourable texture of clothing of food.

Ororo will always ask questions about something before she gets it for you, after a while she knows pretty much all of your likes and dislikes.

She's a great cook and can switch the taste or texture in something with just a flick of her wrist, something she doesn't mind doing, especially if the food she's already making is something that causes a lot of stress.

[bikananjarrus]

percy burning an offering of blue food for his mom and talking to her about actually making friends at camp, and saying he thinks they actually like him for real, is so emotional already. but then saying (about poseidon) that “ignoring me is one thing. but he doesn’t get to ignore you. I’m gonna make him come down here. I’m gonna make him see me. I’m gonna make him see us both.” screaming crying throwing up etc etc because percy loves his mom SO MUCH and he wants Poseidon’s recognition more for her than for himself.

[neoarchipelago]

And they were Roomates (part 3)

A/N: Wahoou... I didn't expect this to get so much appreciation. I remind everyone that i accept tips even thought my content stays entirely free for everyone as i don't really do this for money but for my horny demon persona. This is probably getting more parts at this point

accepting some headcanons, situation ideas for these two as i'm slowly running out, it might take me longer to write if i can't find stuff.

TW: violence, blood, crusing, etc.

Love ya'll enjoy.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

You frowned, trying to make your laptops fit in your bag. You were heavily frustrated today. 

It didn't exactly differ from your mood for the past three weeks. THREE WEEKS. He was gone for three weeks and you had 0 news. You stopped fighting with the zipper of your bag to sigh. 

Of course, as if the situation wasn't frustrating enough, you had spent the last week on a mission with a team who's sergeant hated your guts. Sergeant Keller. You were just hoping to end this as soon as possible. Avoiding the sergeant was now your top priority. You had managed to get on his last nerve by defying him at the meeting and proposing a plan that was better than his. The furious look he had sent your way promised havok if he found you alone. Which you totally were right now.

The sound of footsteps made you freeze. Spinning around you cursed. 

"Sergeant…" 

You didn't have time to finish, thanks to the punch to your sternum making you drop to your knees, breath caught in your lungs. 

Fuck…

"You are a little bitch." 

The remark passed through you like a yawn. What bothered you the most was the blows you might receive. He wouldn't kill you, or actually hurt you badly because you were still a valuable asset to the government and the military. But he'd still make it painful. 

"You're… just… mad… I'm better than you…" you hissed through breaths.

This time the kick to your ribs made you whimper. Grabbing a fistful of your hair he lowered himself next to you. 

"Stop fucking acting like you're a hero. You're a fucking terrorist. You should be dead, a bullet through the brain. Know your damn place." 

He hissed through gritted teeth. 

"You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid" you teased. 

The two other kicks, one to your stomach the other landing on your wrist were expected. 

You couldn't let yourself be spoken like that… it hurt but fuck you weren't going to let him talk down to you. 

You were hunched over on the floor, hand over your ribs, and right wrist badly hurting.  

The sergeant threw you one last glance before heading out. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. 

You took several minutes trying to calm down the pain before standing up, grabbing your things and darting out. The cold hair made you huff out little clouds. The 21st of December… you had spent many Christmases alone… but you didn't feel as lonely as you did right now. 

You bit your lip. Keeping the tears at bay… but had long lost this fight. 

---

The way home was spent crying. You were thankful no one was out at this Wonderful late hour. You had managed to reach your apartment door, tears blurring your vision, and your aching side and wrist throbbing. 

Your hand was shaking as you put the key in the lock. You pushed the door open slamming it behind you. You locked it, heading for the living room. You let your things drop on the couch. You spun around to the counter, flinching heavily as you sat down on one of the stools. You tried to breathe through the pain, throat burning as you tried to keep yourself from crying even more.

Suddenly your ears picked up a sound from behind. Jumping down and turning around you froze. 

The silence was deafening. Rage and pain filled your brain. How dare he? Just… what?! 

"Sparrow-"

"What the fuck?!" You half screamed, tears now freely falling. 

"Sparrow." His tone now much more firm. "Are you alright?" 

You chuckled, throwing the most cynical smile you could find in you. 

"I'm amazing." You hissed. 

"Stop. What's wrong? What happ-" 

"None of your business." You spat. 

You were furious. You were absolutely broken and in pain. He walked up to you, leaving a few steps in between. 

God… you had missed his eyes… you mentally cursed yourself at the thought. 

"I know you're angry. But tell me." 

"Angry? You think I'm angry? I'm furious! You left ! Without a word! I'm in pain!" 

That was true. Physical and mentally. You were trying to keep your voice down. But his words kept repeating in your mind. 'we're not friends'. 

You took a deep breath, both staying silent for a long minute. 

"Sparrow… tell me." 

You closed your eyes for a second. 

"Why?" You asked. 

You looked at him, eye to eye for once. You were genuinely asking him. 

"Don't tell me you care… you made it clear. We're not friends." 

"Sparrow.." 

"No. No. Not this time." 

You felt the heavy crush of your exhausted mind and body. You wanted to escape. You needed to. You walked around him. He grabbed your bruised wrist making you whimper in pain. 

The silence after was tense. His gaze had heavily darkened. He was… furious. 

"Who?" Was all he asked. His tone was the coldest you ever heard him. 

You walked to the cupboard, your initial destination, grabbing something inside. You ignored his question entirely. You placed the black mug on top of the counter. He eyed it. A white skull was drawn on it, with the letters lieutenant Riley. You had it made for him as a Christmas present. 

"I figured, you hate Christmas. Though I read no stupid file, it was kind of obvious." You started. Eyes not leaving the object. "I still bought you a Christmas gift. And I know it's not Christmas yet, but. I don't think we'll spend it together." 

You looked up at him. "Now you can hate me as much as you want…" you whispered. 

You didn't wait for any answer at all. You simply headed to your room, locking the door behind you. You got into bed, wincing at the bruises now forming all over your skin. You cried. Letting the tears and tiredness take you to sleep. 

___ 

The morning was rough. You had called Laswell, informing her that you were unable to get to base that morning. She gave you immediate permission to work from home. You sighed. Getting up, you threw one of your signature baggy shirts that reached the middle of your thighs. Your eyes were puffy. You could see it in your bedroom mirror. The bruise on your wrist was bad but the one on your ribs was nasty. 

You made sure that your long sleeves hid the bruise. 

Your ears picking up sounds very unusual to your apartment made you frown. Multiple voices could be heard from the living room. 

You opened the door, curious. You could hear ghost's raspy voice. You also managed to hear captain price's. You walked to the living freezing at the entrance. Many eyes were now stuck on you. 

"Hum…" you tried. 

Ghost was the first to move, straightening himself as he scanned your body, wrist, down to your naked thighs. 

You blushed. You were a bit too underdressed suddenly. He was back after all. And he … had … guests? 

"Ah ! Miss sparrow!" Price smiled happily. 

His smile was so contagious you couldn't keep yourself from smiling back. 

"Good morning captain price" you answered with a smile.  

He walked to you, surprising you with a hug. A very suspicious hug as he barely squeezed you. It was more… testing the waters. As if, checking for any injuries. You still hugged him back. The rest of the men in the living room were still staring at you. They all had a giddy smile on their faces. 

"Here. Let me present to you the rest of the squad." He said, positioning himself behind you, hands on your shoulders. 

"This is sergeant John soap McTavish." He explained, pointing to the man with a mohawk. 

"Hi!" He greeted, the taint of a Scottish accent on his voice. 

"This is Kyle gaz Garrick."

The man with a cap stood and threw a wink at you. He sat down back down rather quickly for some reason. 

"And this is Colonel Alejandro Vargas. Not really part of the squad but he's here on permission for a month." 

The man stood walking to you, taking your hand delicately in his, dropping a kiss before smiling. 

"A pleasure." His voice tainted with an accent as well. 

You blushed. Sending a smile to everyone. 

"And gentlemen this is… sparrow." He said. 

He didn't have much more information to add so you did. 

"I'm a hacker. I work for the military but I was actually your enemy a few years ago… my code name is sparrow." 

The man with a mohawk, now Soap to you jumped at the information. Fear reached you, thinking that once more… this would be like sergeant Keller. 

"You're a hacker?! Fuck that's so cool!" 

You smiled, relieved. 

"We were going to have breakfast. Would you like to join us?" Price invited. 

"LT got muffins!" Soap added. 

You glanced at the man in a balaclava, eyes widening as you saw him stand against the counter, a black mug in hand. He… was using your gift. The realisation making something burn in you.

"Hum… sure." You answered, smiling at the men. 

Everyone answered at the same time a variation of happy words. Quickly interrupted by a very familiar raspy voice.

"She's going to change first."

Everyone turned to ghost.

"I..am?" You suddenly questioned his behavior. 

He walked up to you, price stepping back from you. 

"Sure, we'll wait. We'll prepare everything." Price said, with what seemed to be a signature smile on his lips. Ghost softly wrapped his fingers around your good wrist and positioned his palm at the small of your back, beckoning you to walk back to your bedroom with him. 

Once inside he closed the door behind him. You were still mad at him, even though it seemed to fade by the minute. You decided that pushing his buttons would make your point. 

"Why do I have to change? I don't want to change." You spoke, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He froze in place looking at you. You could feel his eyes traveling down your thighs. You blushed heavily. Without a single word he managed to answer. So you teased even more. A bitter feeling at the words. 

"I don't think your teammates are interested. And I don't think you'd care if they-" 

"Listen carefully." He threatened now closing in, trapping you between the desk and his body, hands on either side of your body. Slightly hunched over you to get to your eye level. 

"If Vargas looks at your thighs with that 'i want to fuck it' look again, I'm beating the fuck out of him in the living room." 

You gasped, eyes glued to him. Was he…jealous? 

"Now you do whatever you want." He said in a low voice. 

"Are you jealous…" you answered in a low voice. 

He flinched slightly. 

"No." He quickly answered. 

Of course not. Why did that thought ever cross your mind?

"Whatever… I have to get to base anyway…" you mumbled. 

"We'll take you." He said, moving back and taking a last glance at you before stepping out. 

You stood there confused for a few seconds. This man was unreadable. Terribly confusing. One moment he hated you, the other he threatened to beat up his friend because he was checking you out. You sighed, heading for your closet.

----

You were in the noisy car as you drove to the base with everyone. You had surprisingly spent a very pleasant morning with everyone, heading back to the base after lunch. You had to, unfortunately you needed to get back on the mission and you needed to be with the team for that. 

You weren't exactly excited to see Sergeant Keller. You just hoped you'd stay out of his radar. 

Arriving in the middle of the warehouses and building, ghost parked. Everyone jumped out of the vehicle, you following carefully trying to not wince. Ghost kept his eyes on you and it was hard hiding the injuries. 

"What time you done sparrow?" Soap asked. 

"Hum… don't really know…" you answered genuinely not knowing when you'd get out of the hell of a room you were about to get to. 

"We can wait for you, we all have time to lose." Gaz added. 

You were now incredibly sure ghost had somehow told them about the bruises he saw on your wrist. 

"I don't know…" you tried. 

"We'll wait. Text me when you're done." Ghost ordered. 

You looked at him, deliberately rolling your eyes at him before heading into the building. 

You could hear soap and gaz laughing before quickly shutting up. 

---

The hours flew by you, and you were pretty glad of that. You just wanted to go back home. You were also very glad that the mission was finally coming to an end. Your part would be over tonight, so you'd be far away from sergeant Keller. 

The clock showed 7pm. You watched everyone as they put away their stuff. Grabbing your phone, you texted ghost. 

-"I'm done. In case you actually waited…

- "Copy."

You rolled your eyes again. You were putting down your phone when another notification rang. 

"Of course I waited. We're out front."

You felt a ping in your heart. What was going on? Why was he so… protective all of a sudden? You stood up grabbing your things when a sharp pain to your ribs made you yelp. 

Turning around you saw Sergeant Keller behind you. The asshole had poked exactly where he had kicked you the day before. 

"You and I need to have a little talk." He threatened. 

You looked around. The room was empty. Fuck. And of course you were caged in between the table and him. The door to your right would be hardly attainable. 

"You really adore me don't you sergeant?"  you teased, a little shiver of anxiety running through you. 

"You have such a big mouth. Somebody ought to make you shut it." 

The slap across your faces stung. You had managed somehow to bite your lip in the process, little droplets of blood on your tongue. God damn it. 

"I literally didn't do shit this time Keller." You rang, rage slightly rushing through you. 

"You're right. Just thought I'd make you remember your place one last time. So you wouldn't go pretending to be part of the good guys again." 

"I AM part of the good guys for fucks sake!" You yelled. 

He grabbed your throat. Making you grab his wrist. 

"You think playing around with your little laptop after you were hunted down for multiple crimes makes you good? You think this is your redemption arc? Fucking idiot" 

You hissed as he pressed against your ribs again. He let go of your neck, now grabbing your bruised wrist and squeezing. You yelped in pain. Of course… using the already bruised parts not to add anymore evidence. 

"Fuck… stop Keller!" You yelled through gritted teeth. 

"Little bitch." He answered, a punch to your bruised ribs, this time making you cry out in pain, vision darkening at the intensity.

You barely heard him walk in. You didn't fully understand why Keller was thrown across the room. When the pain was finally slightly down you looked up, eyes widening at the sight. Ghost had Keller by the throat against the wall. He had apparently punched him already, as by the evident blood running down Keller's nose. 

"Ghost…" you tried. 

"Get out." He ordered. 

"What..?" You asked, shocked. 

"Soap and price are waiting. Get. Out!" He ordered, barking the last word. 

You flinched, but moved, hand over your ribs, running out. You heard Keller get punched one more time. 

Fuck fuck fuck. Your eyes stung with tears. Throwing open the heavy metal door, cold air biting at your skin, your eyes searched for price and soap. They were right in front, heads turning to you, instantly running as they saw the blood on your lip. 

"Sparrow!" Your heard soap. 

You breathed heavily. Ears slightly ringing. Price and soap stood next to you inspecting you. 

"Ghost…" you tried. 

"What?" Soap urged. 

"He's… he's beating up Keller… you got to stop him!" You yelled. 

Alejandro and gaz showed up running up to  price. Price cursed heavily. 

"Alejandro gaz! Stay with her, soap, with me!" He yelled. 

Soap and price rushed past you, as Alejandro and gaz surrounded you. 

"You're alright princess.." Alejandro said, a worried look on his face. 

"I'm fine… I'm fine… it's just a few scratches." You reassured. 

You turned around staring at the metal door. You were shivering. It was probably the cold… or probably the panic coursing through you. You were so thankful that he had shown up. But you were extremely worried about the trouble he was going to get into because of you. 

"Come on.. sparrow get in the car." Gaz asked. 

"N-no… I… ghost " you stumbled over your words. 

"He's coming back, don't worry. Price and soap are with him." Alejandro tried. 

"No!" A whimper escaped your lips. 

Your brain was a fuzz. You didn't know exactly what you were feeling. Any anger towards him had vanished. You were worried, you needed to see him. 

"Come on Sparrow, we're taking you home." 

You shook your head, making you even dizzier than you already were. 

"We'll bring him back, we promise." Gaz assured. 

You took a deep breath finally following them into the car. Tears fell down your cheeks, the cold hair had helped them turn your cheeks red. 

You glanced one last time towards the door before Alejandro and gaz drove out. 

Tags: 

@lemontails @cabreezer0117 @tomhardy41 @brxghtixghtz @shuttlelauncher81 @pinkdazelight @sirenbunnylol @snortangeldust @novausstufff @gasstationfifacard @emotion-not-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @simpforavillain @minimisthios @catied32 @poohkie90 @watermaylon-writes @thereealink @meimhem @sorryi-mtrash @gaymistakeboi @bittersw33t-lotus @gh0stm3g @freckledmuffin @itsasecrets-things @xback1021 @connierk690 @feedthefandoms995 @friendlyneighboorhoodgothicpagan @dead-noodles @friendly-reject @critter-mylo

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 2: Too scary - Multi!Muse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multi!muse  x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of scary movies, trauma, blood, gore, etc. Nothing too graphic

Type: Blurbs

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Turns out the movie was too terrifying for little Y/N to handle, therefore it’s their job to comfort you.

Notes: Let’s see how long I can keep this up.

Jason Voorhees: At first he wouldn’t notice, mostly focused on the movie and the candy he’s stuffing his face with. When you’d shuffle around, when he’d notice the constant movement, then he’d take a look at you only to find you with your knees close to your chest with your arms wrapped around them. It’d take a moment for him to register that your stomach was turning at the imagery. Once he would, Jason would instantly coop you up into his arms and keep you in a tiny ball, doing his best to protect you from your thoughts.

Michael Myers: He can smell fear, he’s always been exposed to fear all around him, it’s like second nature to him. When he realizes you’re afraid of the movie, he turns over to stare at you for a moment, which makes you even more uneasy. Thinking Michael looks at you like you’re a big baby, you decide to just cross your arms and brave through the rest of the film. Of course, failing miserably. Michael would force you into his arms, letting you kind of flop into his arms and situate yourself however you wanted. 

Tiffany Valentine: She loves horror movies, it’s one of the things that could keep her occupied. While your stomach twists at the imagery and blood splatter on the screen, Tiffany seems mesmerized by it, not paying much attention to your squeamish reaction. Once you’re both done with the movie, she’d turn to you asking “So, how’d you like it?” Only to see you near traumatized. “Y/N!” Tiffany would wrap her arms around your face and bring you into her chest, pressing you into a hug. “Was that too scary? Why didn’t you say anything babe?” Of course she’d make it up to you, with much affection and endearment.

Billy Loomis: Doesn’t even notice at first how uncomfortable you are, no matter how much you nuzzle into him. A few flinches in, he’d look down to you to make sure you were awake, but to see you near in tears would cause him to stop the movie. “Y/N? You okay? We can stop watching this, I just thought you’d like to see it with me.” He knew better than to keep it playing when you’d tell him you were fine. “No, I mean, it’s kinda lame anyway, here’s the remote, find something better. I’m gonna get another beer, you want anything?” Then he’d come back, lay into the arm rest and bring you down with him, making sure you were cuddled into the blanket on the couch.

Stu Macher: What a dumbass, he wouldn’t really notice at all if you were crying or looking away from the screen too much. He’s “in the moment” with the gory scenes. After the movie, Stu would ask you how you’d like it only to see hot tears streaming down your cheeks. He’d laugh a little bit at how scared you looked, but then would give you the tightest hug. Stu would hold you tightly enough to give you some troubles breathing regularly, letting you put on some cartoons to forget the imagery. Will this happen again? Absolutely.

Patrick Bateman: Ok, he’s probably the worst of them all. Patrick watches snuff films and all kinds of gruesome films for fun. When you brought it up to his attention, he was more than happy to show you what he liked and explain to you the different methods of torture and what part inflicted the most pain. Even if you’d throw up, Patrick would keep the film going, mesmerized by the screams telling you “It’s actually not that bad.” But he’d let you hide into his arm, clenching onto it as you did so, but there was no way to hide from the terrorizing screams and Patrick's chuckle throughout it.

Leatherface: Honestly always checking up on you through every scene. Bubba doesn’t even want you to watch the scary films, he would think you were too pure for them, ironically. If you insisted though, he’d let you, holding you close to him and giving you space to hide if you needed to look away, which seemed to be often. Bubba would be ready to turn off the screen at any moment, one arm wrapped around you and the other one with the finger on the off button. He too would let you watch cartoons with him after. Bubba would offer you your favorite junk food or candy and let you snuggle into him while you laugh at the new pictures on the screen.

Harley Quinn: Is SUPER into horror. Laughs at the screams and blood splatter “Y/N! Y/N! Did ya see that? Did ya see it?! Let me rewind it.” Harleys a bit clueless when it comes to seeing your discomfort at first, but then when she notices you keep flinching or looking away, her expression immediately changes. “Oh my god Y/N? Are you afraid of this? You shoulda said something pumpkin’!” Immediately cuddles you and keeps you close to her chest, changing the channel to a Disney movie. Harley would be THE best at comforting you, squeezing the near life out of you to keep you comfortable and your mind off of things. Lots of comfort food, honestly.

Poison Ivy: Isn’t necessarily obsessed with horror movies and gore, not very interested in it either but she doesn’t mind playing the exorcist for background noise. If you’re not obviously telling her that you’re scared or you want to play something else, she would pick up on how you would react. Flinching at certain moments in the movie, looking away from the screen constantly, all things Pamela would notice, putting two and two together, she’d turn off the TV, telling you simply “What a trashy movie, let’s go play.” And would lead you into the bedroom for some TLC. Pamela’s love language would be physical touch and she would make sure you would get enough of it to fall asleep to. She’d make a mental note to stay away from horror movies with you.

Bruce Wayne: Never was really big with horror movies to begin with. Bruce grew up with musicals and operas, he was cultured in filmmaking, but horror never really made a mark in his interests, mainly because of the real life horrors he had to face already. Of course Bruce picks up on everything, noticing your reluctance in watching any more of this movie, he decides to nuzzle you into him, not saying a word and changing the channel, or taking your hand to lead you out of the theater. After all, Bruce knew what it felt like to be afraid. Expect a ton of tender touches and soft kisses.

Jason Todd: Sweetest energy tbh. Whether your watching a scary movie as a group or together, his reaction would be similar in both scenarios. As soon as he’d feel your palm in a cold sweat he’d look for your reaction, even if you try to brave through it, Jason would pull your face into his chest, kissing the top of your head. ‘What a bullshit ass movie.” He’d mumble while subconsciously caressing the back of your head. “You’re being brave dollface, but you don’t have to be.” He’d whisper to you and give you a squeeze. ”Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Billy Hargrove: Notices instantly, but wouldn’t want to call you out on it. Instead he would also pull a stunt like Pamela. Telling you “This is kinda tacky, let’s leave.” And would lead you out of the movie theater, turn off the TV or leave whatever house party you were at. He’d make sure to never let you go, holding your hand, keeping his arm around your waist as usual, always being protective of you. Billy would make you feel safe enough to tell him what happened and what was wrong and why. He’d actually listen to you, being quiet for a moment, letting it all sink in, then comfort you by telling you “That’s nothin’ to be embarrassed about,  I had a few movies that scared the daylights out of me, but you know I’m never gonna let anything happen to you.”

Steve Harrington: Knows from the start that you don’t like horror movies, he doesn’t either but he can stomach a lot more than you can. Steve was kind of taken a back when you insisted that it would be fine to have a movie night with your friends even though they planned a horror marathon. When the kill scenes would get severely worse as the movie progresses, you’d get more uncomfortable and at this point it seemed like an unspoken competition to see who could stomach more gore, you or Steve. Still, when you’d take a nap, shifting and shuffling around in the blankets, he’d know the movie maybe actually got to you. Steve would hug you tightly, caress your face when you’d drift in and out of sleep. 

Steve Rogers: Would be such a big time caregiver energy. When you’d hide your face away in certain scenes, Steve would notice instantly, hugging you closely through the scene. If you kept showing discomfort, Steve would take you from the room, not offering an explanation to anyone. “Come on sweetheart, let’s go do something else” He never really understood the concept or horror movies, nor the appeal, so it wasn’t like he was missing out on anything. Steve would pick you up, letting you hide into his chest or his neck. He’d kiss your head, cheek and neck constantly, slow and full of love. “Come on angel, let’s watch something else.” He’d turn on the TV letting you chose any cartoon movie you’d be in the mood to watch.

Bucky Barnes: Also with Steve energy, he’d let you hide into him. He kind of understood the concept of the horror movies, even liked a couple but not to the extent those around you  both would like. His heart melts when he sees you pout and avoiding looking at the screen. Closing your eyes waiting for the screaming to stop, Bucky would want nothing more than to reach over and pull you onto him, letting you hide into him and tell you everything was okay and it was only a movie. When the movie would be over, he’d check up on you, making sure you weren’t still thinking of it, which more than likely you were and he wouldn’t hesitate to spend the night with you, letting you curl into his body, being three times your size and keeping you safe from whatever horror you saw today.

Wanda Maximoff: She would notice it the second scene in, the minute you hesitated to agree on a horror marathon with the team, she knew maybe you were a little bit more of a baby than she initially thought. She’d play it off with you as well, telling the team the movie seemed boring and that she just wanted to go to bed, she was tired. When the others would dismiss her, not paying much attention, she would look at you, who stayed sitting in silence. “Y/N? Are you okay? You keep nodding off, come join me, let’s get you to bed.” Wanda would be your saving grace and of course she would let you sleep in her bed, keeping you comfortable and safe in her pillow fortress and arms.

Loki Laufeyson: He’d always notice any sort of discomfort in you, knowing that you weren’t able to stomach much of the gory scenes but a part of him wanted to see how much you were able to handle. Loki would sit where he was able to look at you with just a flicker of his eyelids in your direction. When you’d all have a movie night, Loki would be the one to agree to watch something gruesome just to see you squirm in your seat. When it would be too much to handle for you and you’d have to excuse yourself, Loki would come to your aid when he would pass by your room to see you sitting on the corner, hugging yourself trying to erase the imagery out of your head by watching your favorite comfort films. “Y/N? How are you doing?”

Cloud Strife: He’s not very fazed by horror movies or anything of that sort, but if he feels you hide against him again throughout the movie, he would let you. He’d hesitate to put his arm around you, but if you snuggle into it, he’d squeeze you in. Because this seemed to be very unlike Cloud, snuggling into his torso would be the most comforting thing. Cloud would let you sleep with him if you admitted you were scared, letting you snuggle in under the covers with him, he’d drape an arm over you and keep you close as you drifted off to sleep.

Aerith Gainsborough: Not terribly interested in horror movies, but would watch a few just to spend some time. Aerith has quite the strong stomach compared to you and the rest of your friends. She could sit there and watch a full marathon with you guys no problem, but if you couldn’t handle it, she’d understand and take a walk with you, picking flowers for you on the sidewalk as she would try to distract you from the imagery from before. Her smile surely would help, Aerith would be the perfect person to comfort you for something that seems as silly as a horror movie.

Sebastian Michaelis: He’d seen it all, fear is not something he was very familiar in feeling, but he knew it came as second nature to the human species. If you were afraid of a movie or show, he’d find it amusing to see you worked up over false imagery when he had seen much worse, all real as well. Sebastian would still excel in his duty to comfort you, assuring you there was nothing to fear, since he would never let anything hurt you. Being cared for by him in this way did help, you knew he meant it and it was silly for you to worry about anything that was plastered across a screen.

Spencer Reid: Would be so wholesome, he had seen so much gruesome scenes, often inspiring many of the plots of movies you two were watching, but he knew to spare you the details. When Spencer heard you wanted to see a horror movie with him, he was surprised, letting you decide which one, but when it was too much for you, he knew right when to stop it and ask you if you were okay, not wanting to have you get nightmares for the next week straight. Spencer would soothe you, holding you close to him, letting you lay down onto him and snuggle under a blanket. He’d play something more wholesome, maybe a Disney classic in the background or some sort of comedy to keep your mind off the previous imagery. 

[bruhstation]

Don't worry CT!Gordon, my Gordon has no idea how he became a dad either. He was in denial for over 50 years.

@bruhstation I hope you enjoy! I've been wanting to draw Gordon meeting Gordon for a while. I love your art it always hits me directly through my heart and I end up as a pile on the floor.

[rainswept]

you ask for Fontaine brain rot/reqs, I deliver.

So idk if you've done the recent archon quest and lyney/lynette story quest so if you haven;t be careful caus i will be spoling !

SO

That part where Lyney is freaking out over Freminet and Lynette had me SCREAMING especially since ive done their story quest AND ALSO FRIENDSHIP 10 LYNEY SO I HAVE THE LORE AND IT HURTS SM but I won't spoil all that for u-

so anyways, i started thinking, imagine Lyney has a lover who's been with the siblings for years (and also works for Arlecchino) and is considered another sibling by Lynette and Freminet. They were also diving with Freminet when they encountered water from the primordial sea

now imagine clorinde can only take one person with her at a time when she pulls them back, and she saves Freminet first, later going back for Lyney's s/o

Eventually Freminet wakes up like he does in the quest, but the reader just.. doesn't. Hours pass and the siblings are freaking tf out because they don't want to lose anyone.

(now I can't decide if I crave angst or if I want to comfort my babies so ill give my headcanons for both shiguegoe)

angst: Lyney's lover keeps deteriorating, parts of them gradually turning blue and quite literally withering away (caus you know the water and the dissapearances- yeah-) and the siblings can do nothing but watch

Lynette shuts down more frequently and for longer periods, not even saying anything to Lyney

Freminet blames himself for not noticing sooner, for not getting them out sooner

And then there's Lyney.. he blames himself for not only putting his siblings in danger, but losing his lover...

He sits by their bed watching as they wither away, holding their hand. He knows Father will be upset by his lack of comitment to the mission but he can't bring himself to care

The day they pass, no one says a word. They continue with their mission, report to Father, go on with their Fontainian lives until they're alone and they cry. they cry and scream and curse whatever archons or god's are listening.

AND NOW BEFORE I CRY THE HAPPIER VERSION

After days of not waking up, they finally open their eyes.

Lyney is fretting over them asking if they know where they are, who he is, what happened etc

now to throw in a tidbit of angst, what if they awoke with some disability? like they cant see anymore, they can't hear properly, cant walk properly etc

Lyney and Freminet would devasted because they blame themselves. Lynette would be quick to remind her brothers at least everyone is alive.

It'd be bad because with a disability, they can't work for Father anymore, or at least not the way they used to

AHHEOGUHEOG im stuck in a neverending brain rot my guy

Anyways. I was actually going to request for you to write your own take on this but you don't have to if you dont want- even just hearing your take would be nice lmao

also if its ok i reallly wanna be mutuals! I just found you blog and im obssesed!! I really wanna be friends<3

NO BECAUSE I SCREECHED SO LOUD MULTIPLE TIMES READING THIS !! THANK U SO MUCH YES OFC I WANNA BE MUTUALS/FRIENDS!! genuinely absolutely made my day to have u ask that oh my god??

also don’t worry about spoiling anything for me, i’ve read every little bit of lyney/lynette/freminet lore out there 😭 and i’ve done all of the new fontaine archon quests already (i need help. it’s okay though!)

as for angst — u know me so well already this is my forte. cracks knuckles here i go

freminet feels as if something is off.

already beginning to panic, he turns to you in a hurry. the water swishes in his ears. when you meet his gaze, wide-eyed, the gut ‘feeling’ turns into a full-blown punch to it. oh, now he realizes; he can’t breathe. his heart’s racing, chest tightening and throat feeling as if it’s closing up.

you reach out, and exchanging unspoken words, you two turn around and make to retrace your patterns with haste. hand in hand, you race against frittered time; but even your best efforts are not enough, and the both of you are forced to acknowledge it when freminet’s vision begins to turn spotty.

he got in the water first; he’s gone before you are. his body floats limp beside you as you drag him along through the water, even as the surroundings grow hazy for you, too. a cold tingle runs up your spine as you consider the possibility; is this the end?

(when you had left for the pipes, the most you had exchanged with lyney was a quick kiss on the cheek as a goodbye. that wouldn’t do.)

but even as you try desperately to cling to life .. the “sea” is a cruel thing, and it does not care for your mortal frivolities. (a proper goodbye? .. foolish.) with cold, disorienting water enveloping your senses from all sides, your only grounding thing being freminet’s (rapidly cooling) fingers against yours — it didn’t take long before you succumbed to the “sea”, too.

(your last thought as the world went dark was “i’m sorry.”)

(even in your barely conscious state, you feel another wave of panic surge through you when freminet’s fingers slip away from yours — but you don’t have enough energy to hold on.)

reader lives:

the incessant thrum of the water rushing through pipes rattled in your ears. your whole body was sore, weak and tired; and all of your limbs felt like lead attached to you via shoddy workmanship. your head hurt like hell, and what’s worse is that the moment you opened your eyes, you were immediately met with the sight of the three people you cherished most.

first, there was freminet, who was sitting on the bed opposite to yours. his posture fixes from a slouch into proper the moment he spots you, perhaps in.. excitement? shock? you weren’t sure. his eyes lit up, though.

second, there was lynette. she was .. a bit more on edge than usual. that was .. to be expected, of course, but really. you were out for.. what, an hour or two? come on, all four of you put yourselves in danger all the time. what was different about this?

(what was different was the fact that you were not out for an hour or two. no, make that days. they were sure to remind you of this.)

then, there was lyney. for him, the world seemed to stop.

lyney, who was pacing the room in sheer desperation. he walked and walked, boots timed and in tune with the clocks and dripping water from the pipes. in his nervousness, he had unwittingly created a quite fitting melody.

(the only sounds once he ceases walking are the clocks and the water dripping from the pipes.)

lyney, who had rushed to your bedside the moment he had noticed you were up. he looked exhausted, but the second you were awake the mask was .. attempted .. to be put back on. however .. it didn’t take someone as observant as you, or even one who knew him so well, to notice that it was placed crooked.

(how absurd he looked, trying to put on a front everyone in the room knew was one.)

why, even, you would have bet that it could’ve been surmised by a child. once again, emphasis on ‘you would have’, for there was no time for thinking about that when he rushed to your bedside and enveloped you into an embrace. you didn’t miss the way his fingers grasped at the back of your shirt in downright desperation.

(in clear, bold letters, it reads; “if nothing else, please let this be real.”)

he slots himself beside you and, wordlessly, holds you close. he doesn’t need words — neither of you do. this is enough.

lynette and freminet looked on, neither of them opening their mouths when lyney buries his face into the crook of your neck and stays there for just a bit too long. he doesn’t cry. instead, he whispers shakily against your skin; “i thought i’d lost you.”

(the only sounds once he ceases speaking are the clocks and the water dripping from the pipes.

(no one speaks up just yet.)

(the only sounds in the room are the clocks and the water dripping from the pipes.)

(you’re starting to think those were the only sounds ever there.)

when he finally pulls away, you notice he’s fixed his mask. lyney now smiles, and the shake in his voice is gone; but you know it’s not all better, not when he refuses to leave the infirmary even after sigewinne and the traveler inquire. you know it’s not all better, not when the four of you are alone again. lyney sits beside you on the bed, refusing to so much as stand up (he doesn’t want to let go of your hand. you don’t comment on it, but his fingers are still shaky as he holds onto yours like they’re a lifeline.)

you don’t exchange as much as a single word after that. you just bask in each other’s presence, apologies and pleas and “i love you” shared during every lingering glance between everyone in the room.

the four of you don’t need words. this is enough.

reader dies:

seven mistakes went unnoticed. seven signs went unfollowed. seven things (and five people) went wrong that day.

one: freminet.

it was entirely freminet’s fault, he thinks, it was. if only he had gotten you out of there in time. no — he shouldn’t have even brought you. he sits on the infirmary bed opposite to yours, knees pulled up to his chest, and he clutches pers with a death grip. he dips his head in such a way that his face is hidden with his hair; he doesn’t want to let lyney and lynette see him in this state. they have enough to deal with.

two: the primordial sea.

but they were bound to notice eventually, right?

“it was entirely the primordial sea’s fault,” lynette would remind, hand on freminet’s shoulder. “it wasn’t yours.”

the primordial sea. the cold and vicious waters were such a contrast to those he held so dear; what was typically calming and merciful turned to something suffocating and terrifying. but that didn’t change the fact that it was an inanimate thing.

he drops pers at the contact; it clatters to the floor; he looks down, wide-eyed and apologetic; he reaches down to pick it up. lynette does not put her hand on his shoulder again.

three: wriothesley.

“it was entirely wriothesley’s fault,” lyney wants to scream. he’s frantic, pacing the infirmary and voice cracking every time he speaks. lynette and freminet have seldom seen him so panicked. he needs to do something, he needs— he can’t. he can’t leave. once he gets his hands on wriothesley, he swears he’ll—

four: clorinde.

it was entirely clorinde’s fault. it was entirely her choice to pick only one of you to save. no one can bring themselves to be upset at her, for she did try to save both of you. but the realization slowly dawns upon the three children of the house of the hearth still with a steady heartbeat; it was either going to be you or freminet.

they realize this at different times. every time they do, they exchange a silent, quick glance.

freminet would’ve gladly given up his life. lyney and lynette, however .. they would not have been able to choose.

five: the gods.

it was entirely the gods’ fault. curse the gods, lyney thinks. he’s still pacing the room, and while he never put much stock in the divine, he was practically yelling at them now. he knew it wasn’t logical. but he needed something. what was the point of a god if not to help their people? what was the point of a god if just to watch people suffer like it’s an opera?

was she here now? was she watching? was this a “twist” for her? did she delight in this?

six: lyney.

it was entirely lyney’s fault. he shouldn’t have let you or freminet go. he shouldn’t have. he shouldn’t have let wriothesley play him like he was a deck of cards in his hands. this was all his fault. all his fault. he knew of the prophecy, dedicated his whole life to it — and yet hadn’t managed to save you from its clutches?

seven: you.

in truth — it was no one’s fault. but lyney is still pacing the room, breathing getting heavier and more rapid every time he steals a glance at you. lynette’s eyes still trace his every move, conveniently ignoring the sight of you as best she could; and freminet still has his face buried in his knees as to not look at your decaying body.

none of them can deal with the fact that it was simply an accident. no one meant for this to happen — there was no one to blame.

they needed someone to blame.

so each and every one of them blamed themselves. as lyney’s fingers grasped your cold ones, he squeezed them softly even as they began to turn blue beneath his grasp. he couldn’t bare to let you go.

and after three long days, the sun rose to find your bed empty where you had laid. you were nowhere to be found. for a moment, lyney’s heart practically leapt out of his chest, wondering .. did you get up?

but as he rushes to the bedside, his face falls. he should’ve known not to get his hopes up.

the blankets were damp where you had laid, soaked with water just as the stage in the opera epiclese had been.

lyney didn’t cry, nor did lynette or freminet.

they didn’t exchange so much as a word the day you died.

instead, they put their aching hearts and empty souls into the mission at hand. they worked twice as hard to distract themselves, and they provided excellent results for “father” — but they had barely worked together to do so.

they exchanged cold words and they held each other at night, when the pain became too much — because as much as they tried to pretend like nothing happened, that was a lie, just as the rest of their existence — but there was no mistaking it. they were now divided.

there was always you. and now there wasn’t.

lynette was the one who informed “father” of your .. whereabouts. lyney couldn’t bring himself to.

[horuslupercal]

got asked on the Guilliman post so

How Primarchs Cry (To Me)

Lion: represses and represses and represses and then hides away in a closet squished into the corner like a cat on its deathbed but otherwise cries pretty normally. do not point it out to him. gets defensive if you point it out

Fulgrim: gets headaches from crying so hard. keeps a handkerchief nearby because his face gets all gross. at some point in every hardcore crying session he verbally says, "enough." because it annoys him

Perturabo: trying everything in his power to give off the vibe that he never cries. takes every breath very carefully to make sure it's silent, confidently strides off away from this shit (hides away), etc

Khan: is fine, is fine, is fine, and then he's laying in bed and suddenly has to bolt upright to cry into his hands because holy shit that's sure a wave of emotion. it's okay, it'll pass, but hooooly shit at this exact moment it hurts. doesn't want to be seen but it's not the worst thing in the world if he is

Russ: crawls under Freki and Geri like when they were pups and cries for a good while. at some point he rolls over and runs his hand over his face and then grabs one of his brothers around the neck for a wrestle session and he's either fine or he's fine enough to keep on keeping on

Dorn: goes to a private room, does the "I am in control of my emotions" like Spock in that one TOS episode, and then spins around and puts his fist through the wall. opens the door with a hole in the wall and his hair no longer perfectly coiffed and his face blotchy and red and tells you he wasn't crying

Konrad: either silently weeping or wailing like a banshee. never in between. he doesn't choose which.

Sanguinius: the only primarch who can pretty cry but only up to a certain level. at some point he starts screaming and wailing like a fox caught in a bear trap and doubling over in pain and his hair gets all stuck to his face

Ferrus: throws tantrums. doesn't collapse to the floor like a toddler but does start breaking things. makes fun of the reason for his upset -- the mid-funeral roast session in some au where Fulgrim dies pre-heresy would get him cancelled on twitter because it's the only way he can deal with something that shattering. I'm pretty sure I got that headcanon from @luwupercal actually

Angron: cries for all sorts of reasons. sometimes the nails make him cry, not because they hurt or because he hates them but just because they're directly fucking with his brain chemistry. that's the kind of passive cry where he's crying but it's not an event, it's just his tear ducts doing their thing. used to seek out comfort from his siblings in the pit when he was crying from emotion, now he flips tables and screams

Guilliman: an asthmatic pug caught in a plastic ring. gasping for air, sounds like he's being strangled, the works. sounds like he's dying

Mortarion: also sounds asthmatic, on account of the asthma. his tear ducts don't work right so he doesn't really "cry" so much as hyperventilate and occasionally dry heave

Magnus: the crying is what it is, the psychic crying is the real event. his aura gets real sticky and slow and sad, like syrup, and has a tendency to kind of. contaminate other people with his grief unless he specifically stops it from doing that. I feel like he cries when he's mad, too

Horus: sits down and covers his mouth with his hand and puts his elbow on his knee and cries like that. for some reason I feel like it's especially weird for the luna wolves to see him cry -- it's always weird to see your parent cry, but it's extra weird for them and I'm not sure why. horus sitting on a couch crying with his head in his hands and two luna wolves sending panicked looks at each other 👍

Lorgar: compresses/hugs himself so hard he can't breathe, digs his nails into his skin, etc. we saw in the first heretic that he makes himself physically uncomfortable about grief and that's really stuck with me tbh. doesn't really.... know how to cry without also being in physical pain about it

Vulkan: bows his head and weeps, standing right where he is. weirdly bad at being okay with his own grief specifically -- he'll comfort a brother without issue, but his own makes him feel on edge and sedentary and he needs to move and do something and not stand here being sad, he needs to take action, he can't let it be sticky and slow

Corvus: repression king. he can't cry right now he's too BUSY. fuck this shit. and then there's a trigger and he shatters like a popsicle bridge with too much weight on it. the year of isolation before his departure definitely involved a blanket burrito

Alpharius Omegon: how do they need to cry for this scenario?

[noturlondonboy]

Hiiii

Might I request even more autistic! Yelena things, they mean so much to me.

Also thanks for responding last time :)

Heyyy nonnie yknow what would be so cool- if you gave yourself a silly little way for me to know who you are so I can keep up with the convo whenever we talk about the girl 🤭

ANYWAY!! I do have more thoughts about Autistic!Yelena :DD

(I really should be working on inktober rn. But. I am not.)

-I’ve been thinking about marvel characters knowing sign language and obviously we’ve got Clint and the Barton family, and Kate by proxy, but I like the idea of Yelena already knowing it for when she goes nonverbal

-Kate and Clint are talking in sign one time when Clint is having an old man day and needs to just not hear shit, and Yelena suddenly appears and chimes in with her own ASL and Kate and Clint are just like 😟😯😦😧😮

-Kate really wants to figure out why Yelena knows it but at this point she doesn’t know that Yelena is neurodivergent and can’t quite pin it down

-Clint figures her out way quicker than she likes because he sees her having a meltdown one time and recognizes the signs of going nonverbal (Natasha, Lila, Laura maybe? Nate? Bucky? I dunno) and is trying to help and give her ways to respond that are real easy but she whips the ASL out and he puts two and two together

-Fanny is actually an esa/therapy dog and is trained to get Yelena’s meds, water, chewelry, weighted blanket, etc. and make her sit down when she’s having a meltdown and is just generally very helpful because she’s the goodest girl

-idk if I’ve ever talked about what Yelena’s meltdowns/shutdowns look like but they are

Bad

-they start mild, and can be really easy to see coming, especially if there’s obviously already a lot of stimuli, and they can be preventable if someone who knows what they’re doing is there to help her, but more often than not she masks masks masks masks masks until her brain is on fire and she either explodes or goes catatonic and freaks people out

-I’m talking screaming crying wailing throwing up levels of freak out when she’s beyond her breaking point and something small happens that finally just makes her snap

-holding her down only makes her panic more but sometimes her flailing and disorientation become an actual risk and she needs to not

-or her eyes are glassy and her jaw is either clenched or slack and she just sits/lays there entirely unresponsive for a HOT minute and all anyone can do is get Fanny and make sure she’s positioned safely and in a secure place

-sometimes she just needs to lay on the floor for half an hour until The Feeling goes away

-it’s called her floor time and she needs it desperately

-you know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t pretend otherwise.

[katyspersonal]

Personal stuff from work

I think I am going to leave this job and seek another one. I don't know how I am going to pull this off with my absurd medical expenses recently, but this is just impossible to work here anymore!!! I actually should be at work right now, but I went back home crying, just. straight up left

Remember that story about an ex worker who constantly got at work drunk and snapped at everyone for smallest reason? Where one time he came at work so full of vodka the smell was all over the office, got super angry at smallest things and screamed at the boss and her vice that he would "smash her face with the keyboard if she doesn't shut up" before other workers and customers? And everyone was either scared or passive, but I straight up told him that he should just go home and sleep instead of getting in THIS state at work and causing god knows what? That resulted in the day worth of him distracting me from working bullying me like 'lmao are you feminist or something?!', 'have you believed in yourself or something?!' etc etc, that progressed in a STUPID verbal fight where he kept saying dumb shit, I was objecting, he was yelling at me to shut up, I objected that if he wanted me to shut up he should not have prompted the discussion with dumb shit to begin with etc etc etc.. That then ended in physical fight too, while all coworkers who were much more capable and strong than me just hid like rats and let me fight him alone 🤦‍♂️

Or another story, kinda recent, where another coworker smashed my head against the deck from a likewise long verbal argument that started from her genuinely giving customers and us troubles by refusing to do her job right and me pointing it out? There were a lot of threats prior, like throwing a can in my face if I don't shut up, when she genuinely was wrong and refused to take request from the boss over stupid petulant reasons? (by the way later after that situation turned out that she also did fight with THE boss physically before, and with one of the regular customers that sued her later)

It is more like 'three times is a charm' situation because today something very similar happened, and with a DIFFERENT person again. She has been working here for a while, and also had problems with alcohol and such, but after previous boss left the job and new one arrived she befriended her a lot. That resulted in them constantly dumping all work on me while they CONSTANTLY leave to smoke, drink at the work place (!) or bring their stupid equally alcoholic friends at the office (!!!) 🤦‍♂️ However, today was ANOTHER time where she was STUPID late at work all because she got drunk shitless yesterday (also at work while I was left with customers alone).. I addressed that, and... yeah, you guessed it, more insults, yelling, threats of physical violence etc followed. This time we surprisingly did not end up in a fight, I kinda just ran away..

Like, this workplace feels like abusive relationship I know, I just bothered to carry on because it is stupid hard to find a job in my city.. But I swear they hire any sort of deranged, violent, stupid people without even a minimal check fdhfdhs These are just the three I've had open fight with! And in each and every situation it is basically 'a person who is like 50, the third one is 60 wants to beat up a frail young girl for pointing out something that was GENUINELY wrong while other coworkers are either passive or claim that the girl is insane and inadequate in this situation' 🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️ I am dead serious, the third parties always act like /I/ am the bad person here for pRoVoKiNg (if this is what you call seeing a bad thing and saying it is bad). And also for "arguing"??? Bitch you say the dumb shit that makes no sense and expect me to stay silent or how that Tweet went

I just really can't work with these idiots anymore. Though to think of it, it isn't just here.. to look back on it, all my enemies happen specifically because I point out something genuinely wrong about them and they can't take the L. When I am not like, holding them at the gunpoint or posing any threat to them (looking at YOU, online cancel-culture mobs who might THINK you can relate!!!). Heck, my worst online drama happened all because someone in the fandom straight up bullied another fan and I jumped in to obliterate them with facts and logic for that behaviour, and not the "noble fight" reasoning they ended up making up to justify harassing me. It is not like I am some noble fighter for justice ffs!!! I am just a kicked stray dog that barks at the things it doesn't like, I won't and CAN'T make any change in this world. But it is always enough to end like this. I just can't play by this world's rules at all if you are supposed to "just ignore" people who are so deranged. By this logic I could also keep everyone in fear with threats and inadequate reaction to objective, non-threatening, justified criticism, but I am not doing this!!

At the same time, hating petty bitches that will either openly get hostile like my coworkers, or plot revenge like Alfred-chan or A, over the justified "attack" on them made me overcorrect myself to the point I tolerate shit like this more than I should. Like you know how unwillingless to become the very thing you hate might put you on the opposite extreme? Because it should not have happened three times for me to be done!!! (especially since none of these idiots got fired for their behaviour) Not to mention less extreme conflicts and these idiots doing god knows what at the WORKPLACE 🤦‍♂️