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ghostflowerhotpotch · 1 year ago

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Do you think that gwen stacy is trans?

Yes, yes I do.

Now, the last time I talked about this I also mentioned I didn't see a point in making a post about it, because nothing I was going to say was going to be different than what you had probably already seen everywhere else.

That being said-

I had seen SO MANY idiots on the internet, to which I haven't replied (because I am also trans I used to know when or not to bother with people like that,) which had made me want to discuss the matter in my own words, even if I can't truly add anything new to the table.

So, I will probably do the same reasoning everyone else had already said, if anyone is still interested in reading it feel free, if not you can scroll. I will also address some common criticism of the theory.

Before we start the actual arguments, a few things.

No, I don't think if you believe Gwen is cis you are transphobic or something, as long as you are respectful.

I can't say how people see her or not, and while for me the evidence feels obvious, I know unless we have Gwen saying it (or someone close to her at least,) it cannot be sure one way or another. Remember that, ONE WAY OR ANOTHER.

I am fine if someone doesn't think she is trans, but I do think believing is IMPOSSIBLE for her to be is when you are entering transphobic territory. The reason why I think this is dumb, aside of the evidence; is the fact that if a character doesn't need to say I'm cis at any point to believe so, Gwen shouldn't need to say I'm trans for people to HC her as such or similar.

With that out of the way, let's start.

Going back to this image, we see that Gwen has a flag that says "Protect trans kids." Which to me feels like says a lot.

I had seen people suggest that "Of course she is an ally, she is a hero!" And while I could get Gwen being interested in helping people who face discrimination, since she deals with crime and such; the idea has me cackling more than anything else.

Is not impossible, but seriously, WHEN had you seen an ally with a flag in their room? It feels like an excuse someone who is in the closet would say; allies could have trans stuff or displayed in certain situations, but those situations tend to be in public, you know? Since being an ally means being vocal when you need to; there is really no reason for an Ally to have a trans flag in their room as decoration.

To top it all off, is on top of her door, not a window or anything, is obviously this is more for her than anything else.

George Stacy has a trans flag on his uniform.

This...This a really big deal honestly.

In a vacuum is a small gesture, perhaps if you aren't part of the community you don't get why I think this is amazing. So let me say a couple of things.

He is supporting his trans daughter; maybe is because of my family, or because all of my current trans and non-gender conforming friends have parents who range from shitting to not very supportive in general. So having Gwen be trans, still be a teen, and her dad supporting her? FUCK that means the world to me, even if I think he isn't that good of a dad.

This is in his uniform, this isn't just supporting Gwen in front of her, but also when she isn't around. You would be surprised how many parents say to be supportive but be quiet while hearing about discrimination. This also can lead me to believe he will be supportive when other trans individuals are around.

He is a cop. In real life, I don't feel safe around cops for a multitude of reasons I will not get to because I don't want to get too political here. Regardless, the fact that he is the Police Captain of his department while having this shows that he can be supportive of trans people, is huge.

Now, I know the next piece of evidence has been debated A LOT, especially for people who honestly, have clearly no idea how cinema, animation, or art work at all.

You know? Coding can be so funny at times.

There have been multiple times, when things had been coded on purpose, to the point I thought it was as subtle as a brick hitting your face; and yet I still find people who don't get it and just baffled me to not end.

Examples: Norma in Dead End Paranormal is coded as autistic, but it is never explicitly said on the show, (I think is mentioned in the comics? I know the creator is autistic.) However I never felt it needed to, because Normal has so many signs and hints that I clock her in the first episode, and the representation is so point it feels as if she needed to state she is a woman of color.

Nimona is another example related to the trans experience; seriously almost word for word what Nimona says can be applied to trans people, with the creator also being trans; and yet I was baffled to see some people saw the movie and didn't clock that.

Now, is what Gwen is saying in this scene talking about her experience being Spider-woman? Yes. However, just like Nimona didn't explicitly say she was trans, their entire story revolves around a trans allegory (As well as being likely genderfluid,) feels like is trying to say something.

Not to mention that this is a story, an animated one at that; everything you see on screen was put there by someone and animation tends to have fewer coincidences because you are going to be staring at this screen for a LONG time most probably. It was also noted by the crunch situation (which is again, horrifying and I think Chris Miller needs to find another way to work rather than wasting time and resources like he did,) that the writers had a tendency to tweak to make sure everything was on point; this couldn't have been thrown carelessly.

With all of this preface, Gwen's speech in this section? This could be played WORD BY WORD on a come-out speech.

"And they can only know half of who I am!" -> Having your real gender identity in the closet a lot of times feels like you need to hide half of who you are, from likings to aesthetics to even how you behave socially, it can be a big toll.

"So I'm completely on my own!" -> This is a common sentiment for people who are in the closet without support, because you are carrying all these feelings alone and have no one to understand.

"And now, I don't- I don't even know what the right thing is, anymore!" -> People may be a bit confused about this one, but believe it or not, it happens more often than you think. Should you transition? Should you wait a few years? Should you try to have this conversation with your parents, cousins, etc?

"But I know...I can't lose, one more friend." -> I don't think, I need to talk about how often people aren't supportive of trans individuals. I could talk more about this, but frankly, I don't need to. It happens, even to this day and age, especially in the current political climate.

To top all of this off, the reason why I singling this part (Aside from this speech being as subtle as the Ruby Gillman movie having the antagonist be a parody of Ariel.) Is the background.

The colors are just like a trans flag.

Now, I had seen people suggest that pointing at this is dumb because "that's just an homage to the covers!"

To which I said, no, this is the homage.

And what the background is doing with Gwen in the speech scene is definitely not the same thing.

I find this argument really funny from an artistic point of view, but in case people are wondering why I don't think it counts, let me number a few things.

The covers do this lighting situation OUTSIDE, they normally depict Gwen being around the city on a landscape when things happen, not indoors. This is both the covers and the sky in Gwen's universe. But we don't see indoor places doing this really.

The colors blend, while you can see buildings and windows have their own colours, you can also see them going from orange, to pink and red on the exact same wall.

If you want even more proof of my support, let me show you what the artbook says about this (which includes the covers.)

My point is, even if we try to argue that the covers had something to do; do you think in a movie where they already have Gwen had a trans flag, her dad had a trans patch; would have a moment when the speech mimics exactly the trans experience (or a big chunk for many people,) with the colors in the background being EXACTLY like a trans a flag, with creators and creative that they have STATED, the importance of color in Gwen's world and in Gwen specifically, somehow just choose colors at random at a pivotal moment of the movie?

And I am somehow the crazy one?

Biases

I like to believe I am a fair person, for the most part. Every time I do these analyses I try to be as impartial as possible, and when I know there is a chance my biases and personal opinion will come into hand, I said that much.

As I said before, I am trans, anyone who has seen at least my master post can probably guess I like Gwen. Having a character I dearly love be trans (Even if our situations are wildly different) obviously means the world to me, and perhaps I would have had a similar headcanon even without any hints or evidence.

Regardless, I don't think what I am saying is purely biased; things are put in movies for a reason, especially animated movies, and let me tell you something, has this been another character, especially if it was a new character? I don't think people would be debating this.

If we have a new character having a trans flag in their room, their dad having a trans patch, this narrative; I doubt anyone would be saying this is coding. (Honestly, we would probably have more dudebros saying this is woke garbage than the ones I had seen lol.)

Alternative theories

Now, since I have addressed the theory and some of its criticism, I can't just ignore the number of people had rather than thinking Gwen is trans, believe someone else is.

Theory 1: Peter is Trans

This isn't odd. Honestly if you had been part of the Spiderman community while being queer, or aware of queer readings, you would have probably come around to the fact that a lot of people headcanon Peter Parker as trans, in multiple different variants in different mediums.

Partially because the spidey-hero situation really mimics the trans experience (there is a reason why you can put Gwen's speech on a come-out scene while simultaneously being about her hero identity without either way sounding forced,) and depending on what source materials, other clues can apply. This post isn't about that and it is already extremely long, so I will not dwell on this.

With this theory in mind, Gwen and her dad would be having trans flag and patch in memory of Peter, since with this theory it was likely that was the reason he was bullied, and probably another reason why to experiment to become the lizard; since being bullied could make him feel like he needs to find a way to be more masculine.

And look, do I have a problem with people thinking Peter is trans? Not really, I encourage it, I personally like the idea that both Gwen and Peter were trans and they bonded over it.

However, I wouldn't want this to be in canon, why?... It feels like it would fall into some harmful stereotypes.

Think about it this way; if we go with this route, a trans teen was bullied, after showing he looks like he is kind of isolated (Gwen seems to have the band at least, Peter looks like he was a loner, and then Gwen started to put distance between them because Spider-woman issues.) Get's so desperate that in an attempt to be "special" (maybe even "better" and "stronger," if he felt he wasn't enough as he was,) tries to experiment with things he shouldn't dying in the process; to which Gwen and her dad then would try to fight for trans rights in his memory, as this theory also heavily implies Peter was bullied because he was trans.

And look, angst narratives had their place, and a lot of people like this narrative, heck I remember a book that does something similar (More than Gold is the name, tho the character doesn't die,) and that was written by a trans person.

Nonetheless, the idea to suggest the only trans person in this narrative, dies after ostracization and bullying, and their purpose on the story as a whole would be to fuel Gwen's pain, with the "protect trans kids" idea only happening partially because of her guilt; feels a lot like "bury your gays (or trans in this case,)" something akin to frigging (while Peter would obviously still consider a boy in this theory, having a character from a minority die to hurt/inspire a protagonist, feels deeply concerning.) Is just a combination of too many things that I dislike.

Again, if someone likes this idea I will not say they are a bad person or anything; but I would have fewer issues if it wasn't because a SIGNIFICANT number of those who said this theory, had also shown to be deeply transphobic; insisting Gwen is obviously not trans with non-arguments. Doesn't need to be everyone, but it still annoys me.

2. Captain Stacy IS the trans one!

This one is...interesting, to say the least.

This one is less frequent than Peter's, but I had seen it pop around enough that I decided to address it.

Unlike Peter's, this one doesn't carry horrible connotations. Well it would have the "only" (if we go with this theory and with no other "canon" trans parent in the story,) trans parent be also the one that tries to point a gun at his daughter, to also be so extremely stubborn even when she finally comes back he acts kind of petulant- okay all of these things are bad, however, they wouldn't need to be related to each other; since none of these are really stereotypes of trans men. That's something?

Anyways, the big idea behind this theory is that aside from being more plausible for an adult to use a trans patch because they are trans rather than because their kid is trans, it could be a possible explanation as to why there is no mom or mention of a mom, since this child could be in vitro.

Which, okay, not that bad; I don't think a lot of trans men would like the idea of being pregnant, however, it has happened before so why not.

I don't think this is a bad theory overall, I just don't roll with it because it feels kind of, lazy? Again, do as you may; but it feels that the people who did it were more interested in again, having an explanation for Gwen not being trans, while also not actively being transphobic. Maybe some people just want more trans dad content I don't know.

There are technically instances of both the Peter theory and the Dad theory that could dethrone both of these, but the one related to Peter makes me feel a bit gross to think too hard about, and the other George one could imply something things that one way or other I don't like when the reality is that is a few frames on a scene where the patch isn't the focus. Another reason is that hey, if I don't have solid evidence on my own, I am not going to nitpick at other fan theories.

Speaking of which.

Is this Representation?

Short answer: No, no it's not.

I don't even want to discuss if is good representation, because it doesn't feel like it is to begin with. Yes, I do believe Gwen is trans, but all the things I have are background references, that are okay, however not having a confirmation does sting. It doesn't have to be the focus of her character, yet is not even off comments really, just some clues around.

Do I think it doesn't have Merit? No.

I remember during the first days this movie was out, I read a comment from someone who was in Florida, who said when they saw the "Protect Trans Kids" flag in Gwen's room, started crying.

I think of myself, almost a decade ago, in a country that wasn't really welcome to gay people, much less trans people; of the discrimination I faced because of it. I think when I was a teen, grappling with all these feelings; and how I would had feel seen the badass and cool, Gwen Stacy as Spider-woman, having that trans flag in their room. I know I would have cried too.

We cannot act like things are perfect currently; the United States, England, and other countries are becoming increasingly transphobic; having these things in a PG movie, from a big company, that is released to a worldwide level and is making bank. Not to mention that as small as these details are, the movie did end up getting banned for it, not even censored.

I think we can get better representation, but it doesn't mean this is less huge or less special; even if it didn't touch me like it would have in the past, it had touched many people, and that's something I appreciate one way or another.

This is in itself, another reason why to love this idea.

Gwen being trans fits the themes of the story better

Stan Lee is obviously, talking about Spider-MAN, but it gets the message across doesn't it?

Part of the reason Spiderman became so iconic, was the idea that ANYONE could be Spiderman, this ended up involved in these movies too.

In Across the Spider-verse, we see multiple types of spiders, people from the future, and past, children, women, men, animals, and a popsicle at one point (literally.) The movie also has Miguel, who is the antagonist, convinced what makes them Spiderman/Spiderwoman/you get the idea- is decided by a cosmic force, with Miles claiming that Spiderman is an idea, a responsibility, but something much more diverse than "you need these events to happen in order to be considered truly spiderman."

In Into the Spider-verse, this idea is also shown, by having spideys that are not just Peter Parker, and how Peter while important, isn't truly the protagonist of this tale, he doesn't need to be.

This franchise hinders the idea that being Spiderman is more than a name, a gender, or your background; is about someone that when given the possibility of using their powers for their own gain or ignoring the call, decides to risk it all, to handle a difficult life, to try to do their best despite the circumstances; because the essence of Spiderman, is being a hero, and anyone can be Spiderman. Anyone can be a hero.

Gwen being trans, elevates this idea.

While I think having more Spider-woman content is empowering on its own, cis woman or trans, the idea of having a trans hero obviously exemplifies this idea more than having her absence.

If Gwen is a trans girl, it would mean having a trans girl who is a tridimensional character, a trans teen that messes up, that doesn't know what to do, but is also a hero, and wants to do her best like everyone else. It means showing a trans girl as someone beautiful, badass, and having a guy who adores her with all his might.

If the idea of having her Peter be trans could be problematic, having her be trans means having a great role model, means a story about trans joy where we are free to be more than our identities, because the idea of Gwen casually being a hero and also trans is amazing in its own.

Is not perfect, but I ultimately love this idea, because it brings me hope. It means comfort for some trans and trans teens suffering out there, it means perhaps someone out there will try to offer more stories on the big screen with trans teens.

I want to believe this because Gwen being trans means more for us and the narrative than it would be otherwise. Let us have our dreams.

#ask #atsv files #gwen stacy #peter parker earth 65 #captain stacy #george stacy #across the spideverse #atsv

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lilac-hecox · 1 year ago

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So like Anthony's ex talked about talking about how he talked about her in some of the Smosh reunion videos and that she was going to make a video about it. She did.

I will be honest and say I know very little about her outside of watching some tea videos about their relationship and the vlog channel they had, and hearing Anthony's comments and takes on things, and how she once got angry online because he said in his draw my life video that she used him and was manipulative.

So, this is just a recap of what she said from her video about him/Smosh:

Anthony's ex's perspective is that she is getting blamed for the Smosh break up because neither Ian nor Anthony wants to take responsibility for the friendship crumbling.

After the video, she called Ian's long-term ex Melanie and talked for an hour, and they both agreed that Ian and Anthony threw her under the bus and made her the Yoko Ono of Smosh.

She says that the friendship began to crumble when Ian began dating Melanie because Anthony and Melanie didn't get along. She said that Anthony told her when he started dating her verbatim that he "hated her." "Couldn't stand her." "Found her very annoying." "Literally couldn't be in the same room as her."

She says that when she started dating Anthony Ian got upset that Anthony started being a good boyfriend to her and devoted 30 hours a week to her and was a better boyfriend to her than Ian was to Melanie and it caused tension in Ian's relationship with Melanie. That Melanie compared the way Anthony was with her with how Ian was treating his gf and how Anthony was "proud" of his gf and featured her in videos.

She said Ian never liked her and was mean to her. That he was fake towards her and she never understood him. They never fought and got along if they were in the same room. She said they didn't vibe with each other and that Ian didn't care to make any kind of effort to be her friend.

She brings up the low blow of Anthony saying that he tried to have a heart to heart with Ian in 2017 about how he almost married her and how it was a bad relationship and she says if Anthony is so happy in his relationship that he "constantly talks about how happy he is (with Mykie) and how great it is and that he moved on why does he keep talking about her"

She said if she was so terrible, why did he propose to her. Why did he beg for her back multiple times.

She also mentions how he now edited her out of his draw my life video the good and the bad things about her. She thinks he did that to hurt her.

Earlier in the video, she also says that they broke up in part because she stopped being attracted to him, and she got 'the ick' over him.

Later, she talks about Anthony being an introvert and how they were similar in lifestyle decisions. Then she says she wants to date someone introverted again.

My perspective/opinion (and again I don't really know her that well or know the ins and outs of their relationship) is sort of that she is just kind of making a bigger deal out of it than it really is. She's got people hyping her up in her comments saying Ian and Anthony are misogynistic for blaming their problems on a woman, and she's replying to those in positive ways. Admittedly, I'm biased because I'm a Smosh fan and a fairly new one who is learning lore. But it just kinda smacks of using the Smosh reunion for views, get people talking, etc.

Also, people are definitely allowed to talk about their relationships, and it goes both ways. She mentioned that if he's so happy, why is he mentioning her. In his POV, the relationship was toxic and had abusive elements. I was in an abusive relationship, and despite moving on and being happy, sometimes you just remember crap and you're like "man good thing that didn't actually work out."

Her being kinda snotty about how Anthony has to keep talking about how happy he is with Mykie just comes off as bad vibes.

Idk! Also, the stuff about Ian and Melanie. Ian and Melanie appear to still be friends or close, so whatever issues they had there is apparently no ill will between them when she kind of paints Melanie as being on her "side."

My take (which is just my opinion) is that I don't trust her really and this feels like a cash in on the Smosh reunion and the fact that she just moved back to LA and that a majority of her audience knows her because of her relevancy of being his ex.

#i just wanted to talk about this but not make a bunch of drama #smosh #anthony padilla #ian hecox #smosh pit #smosh games #smoshblr #im not tagging any of her stuff #and feel free to offer your opinion whether it differs or not #or if you have a different take/perspective #or actually know more about their time together #tea time #drama

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literaticat · 5 months ago

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Hi Jenn, if you don’t hear back on an R&R with a publisher, but you get an offer from someone else, do you need to contact the publisher who made the R&R and formally withdraw the manuscript? If so, what wording do you use? Or can you just go with the new offer and forget the non-responsive publisher? Or does it depend how long it’s been, whether weeks or months? I suppose I’m also curious on a similar question if this was with an agent, not a publisher, and if there’s any difference in either case. Thank you.

Regardless of whether or not it's an R&R or just a regular submission to a publisher or agent, if I got an offer from somebody else, I'd give the other folks who have the material and haven't yet responded the opportunity to do so. That goes for an editor or agent with an R&R, an editor or an agent with a full, or an agent that I have queried but it was recent enough that it is still definitely in the "will respond by" window.

The check-in email would be something like, "Hi, I have an offer from another [publisher/agent]; if you have the chance to read and are interested in this as well, can you let me know by [x-date/the end of next week/two weeks from now/etc]? If you need more time, let me know, but if I don't hear from you, I'll consider it a pass. Thanks so much, etc."

(Obvs you can make it more flowery or whatever your style is -- this is just the basic info! And see the *** paragraph below for an extra addendum that MIGHT come into play for an R&R!)

If they don't reply in that timeframe, then you can consider it a pass and move on.

!!Etiquette point!! You didn't ask this part, but it comes up when talking R&Rs, so just for people who don't know: Generally speaking, if you've agreed to do an R&R ("revise and resubmit") specifically for an editor or agent -- i.e., they have provided fairly extensive and rather specific notes for you, you have revised to those notes****** -- it's typically expected that they will have an exclusive on that revised version for a period of time. (If the old version is still out with other people, that's fine, you don't need to pull it or anything.)

Because of this, the polite thing to do when you are turning in an R&R is to thank them so much for the notes, and let them know that, though the previous version is still with some other folks, this version is exclusive to them for a period of time (say, 8 weeks for a novel?) -- and you'll let them know if anything should change. Then after that period of time, you don't need to PULL IT from them or alert them or anything like that -- they can still consider it if they are still considering it! But you are fine to send that new version to more folks if you want to.

*** SO, let's say you get an offer on the old version of the ms, and they are the only ones considering the new version -- IF that's the case, I would probably add to my note something like, "I really appreciate the time you took with this already, so I wanted to make extra sure you had the chance to look; just so you know, the offer is for a previous version of the ms." (or something that is truthful and nice and in this vein!)

******* "But what if they didn't call it an R&R, it was just kind of like "if you decide to revise down the line I'd love to take another look", the notes weren't that in-depth or multiple editors said the same things, so I want to revise but it isn't really FOR THEM, it's just a revision?" -- In that case, I wouldn't offer it back to them exclusively. In THAT case, when I resubmitted it to them, I'd say something like, "Thanks so much for your kind words about this ms, and for offering to look at it again. It turns out that several editors had very similar feedback, so I decided to go back to the drawing board on some of these elements (or whatever); I do think it is much stronger, and I hope you enjoy!" -- that way you aren't promising them exclusivity, they are aware other editors may be in the mix, etc.

#revise and resubmit #publishing etiquette

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springtimesdaughter · 1 year ago

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Hey Annon! I apologize for not replying sooner. I was avoiding PJO for awhile because of some conflict I had with some people, but I have been working on updating my Percy Jackson/Ethan Nakamura story. It won't be out any time soon, but it's been a couple years and my writing has improved a lot, plus there are scenes I want to add and change. I've been working on it the past couple of months. The new story already having 7,000 words and not even halfway through the outline I have. I can't tell you when it will be out (I have school and a job plus family obligations that I need to focus on) but I will get this done even if it takes me another six months to finish.

Thank you for the Percy/Ethan brainrot and ideas, and they were fun to look at, I didn't reply to any of it because I'm organized to an extreame degree and decided I needed to make a side blog for my PJO stuff before I could reply. Anyway here are some of my thoughts that have been long in the making.

1. That's such a cool idea. One that is really cute and sweet but one that I won't be including in this version of the story. Maybe I'll write another one with that detail, but I'm wierd like that and would deep dive the subject and end up learning about a very specific rural tradition about one village in an isolated prefecture and get so far off track from where I started. I'll keep the idea in mind, but my version of Percy and Ethan wouldn't do this simply because on the off chance that they get caught having similar iteams they wouldn't want to risk the safety of the other. In a timeline where the circumstances weren't as dire they sure would, but in this one? They already know what they are doing is very dangerous and any more risk could upend everything. Maybe I'll explore why they don't do it in the fic? IDK depends on how my writing goes.

2. Not at first they don't. They are so awkward in the begining and honestly cautious. Ethan because this is Percy Jackson someone with sometimes incomprehendedable strengths and powers, he wants to keep some distance, and Percy because Ethan could be a threat to his family and friends and he doesn't want them to get hurt. However after they get closer and start to realize any meeting could be their last? They hug all the time, stay in the others personal space, and soak up the presence of the other like it will replenish their strength. They don't do it in more public spaces though, who knows who is watching. However in more private settings they will be inseparable.

3. Them meeting multiple times on opposing sides before the Battle of Manhatten, mostly smaller missions and sometimes by surprise. Neither wanting to hurt eachother but knowing they have to keep up appearances. A new demigod saved from a hoard of monsters deciebed it like a deadly ballet. Both precise in the way they move, but sometimes almost manic in energy and controlled chaos. It was beautiful and unnerving and the new demigod would wonder what would happen if they even fought together on the same side. Of course no one would ever see them dance on the same side but it was just as much a beauty to watch them fight against eachother.

For some context the fic annon was referencing and I wrote is

Love Amongst War

The original version was posted in 2021 but this version is from 2022 and I hope to publish a new version in 2024.

And hey Annon you can send more asks to this account! The ask box should be open. I'd love to hear more of your thoughts.

To close out here is some of the stuff that will be in the new version of the story

- Percy and Ethan often split sweet treats multiple times. Ethan always makes sure they are split exactly in half.

- Ethan opens up about the cabin ideas earlier and many of the ideas he told Percy get implemented even if Ethan never gets to see them, Percy was always listening and what mattered to Ethan mattered to Percy.

#percethan #pjo #pjo hoo toa #annon #Percethan annon

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violetnerves · 7 months ago

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The Rise and Fall of Jenny Hopkins, Aged 15 - Chapter 2: The Setup.

Ok, so this took me about a month and I feel bad about it. It really shouldn't have taken me that long since this chapter is mostly about the actual mission from the game plus some bits of Jenny's backstory. But here it is, and the editing on it is minimal at best. Constructive criticism would be appreciated.

Anyway, Content warning for some ableist language and sexism.

Word Count: 8799

My eyelids fluttered open as sunlight peeked through the blinds of the dorm windows, hitting my face and rudely waking me up. Just to really rub it in, my alarm clock went off. The ring rattled my ears, and I slammed my hand down on the stupid piece of junk.

I let out a grumble, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, followed by a yawn. Then my back started acting up, and I grumbled.

A single thought came to my mind.

'Why does school have to start so damn early?'

I heard Trisha sit up, obviously awoken by my loud alarm clock since her side of the room didn't have the sun shining on it.

It was odd that she looked more put together than she did yesterday, despite having bed-head that would put Bob Ross' afro to shame.

We met eye to eye, and for a bit, there was an awkward silence in the room. The only sounds I could hear were the outside movements of the other girls in the dorm getting ready for the day.

Trisha looked down, then back up to me again. She bit her lip. She gave me a pair of finger guns, in a bad attempt to, I assume, be funny to make the obvious tension in the room disappear. It didn't work.

"Hey... Jenny, right? Can we... talk about yesterday?"

I shook my head, getting out of bed and opening up the large dresser next to it. I tossed a white button-up shirt with the Bullworth Academy crest sewn into it on my bed, along with the blue plaid skirt, socks, and a bra.

I turned to give her the nastiest glare I could muster, mainly as a warning. Just to rub it in that I didn't want anything to do with her, I added in a small warning as I focused on putting on my uniform.

"Not interested, don't even bother."

"Aw... C'mon..."

I heard her get off the bed and start walking closer to me. Before she could get too close, my head snapped in her direction.

The sudden movement caused her to hop back a little, holding her hands up in front of her. I'd assume I looked pretty pissed off since the way she put her hands up was clearly defensive.

The only thing I could see her wearing was a long t-shirt with the name of some emo boy band that swamped her rail-thin body just above her knees. I didn't know if she was wearing any shorts underneath since the length of the t-shirt hid her hips. For some reason, she still wore those arm warmers from yesterday. Does she just not take those off at all?

"Look... About yesterday..."

I spat my reply out in the rudest way I knew how.

"Yeah? What? Oh yeah, no big deal. You were gonna record me getting my ass kicked by your buddies so you could all chuckle at it later over whatever crappy take-out food this dump of a towns' got! I already know about that, I don't need you to remind me, ya freak!"

This girl stared at me, lip trembling with those big, obnoxious, and freaky green eyes of hers looking like they were about to start bursting into tears at any second. Before I could tell her to just fuck off, however, the door to our room opened.

Mrs. Peabody walked in, dressed in what looked like the same outfit she'd worn yesterday - more than likely, she was one of those weird people who had multiples of the same clothes. She took one look at me, then over to Trisha. Compared to how she eyed me, it was similar to how you'd look at a dirty mutt compared to a disease ridden rat.

Sure, I wasn't very happy with Trisha... but the way the older woman looked at her in disgust just rubbed me the wrong way. She barely even tried to hide her contempt for the girl. Shit, even I don't think anybodys' has ever even looked at me like that, and i've been enough of a bitch in my life to warrant it.

"Is there something wrong, Miss Jane?" Mrs. Peabody's eyes were firmly on Trisha even though she was clearly talking to me. "Is she bothering you?"

I looked her in the eye and shook my head.

"No ma'am, we just... disagreed on something. S'not anything that important."

Mrs. Peabody didn't seem entirely convinced, but in response, she simply nodded and closed the door. I could hear the sound of her footsteps fading as she walked away, her muffled voice talking to one of the other girls in the building.

I sighed, shaking my head and slipping my pajama shirt off.

While tugging my bra on, I looked over to Trisha, who seemed a bit confused at the fact that I hadn't bothered to tell on her.

"What is it? What's with the face?"

It took her about a minute to actually say anything, and in that time, I was already halfway dressed.

"...How come you didn't tell on me?" Trisha asked, circling her fingers together nervously. I had to wonder why this girl was hanging out with those jerks. You'd think she'd be just another girl to pick on for them.

I shrugged, buttoning up my shirt with my neck tie undone and hanging around my neck. I didn't want to talk to her for longer than I needed to, so I kept my answers short.

"I don't like you, but with the way Mrs. Peabody was looking at you, I think she's way worse." I haphazardly tied my neck tie sloppily, not caring much for how it looked, nevermind what other people would think about it. "She seems like a nasty old hag."

Trisha seemed to chuckle a little at that.

"Oh, you have no idea... We can barely do anything in the dorm without old Peabody riding our butts about it... Well..." Trisha looked over at the door then back to me. "Unless you're Mandy Wiles, then you can basically do anything you want. The favoritism is unreal!"

Oh, of course Mrs. Peabody's got favorites. Old, bitter women like her tend to have them, mainly as a weird projection kind of thing. Some weird way to relive their youth.

Hm, well, since the girl is already blabbing, I might as well get some info about the other girls out of her. Gary had been more than generous with telling me all about the boys of the various cliques yesterday, but he'd been pretty quiet about the girls.

Which was odd, surely the girls around here had some kind of influence?

"Who's Mandy? Should I be concerned about her?"

Trisha didn't hesitate to nod and replied back, "Ooohhh, yeah, definitely! I wouldn't start anything with her. Not only is she Mrs. Peabody's favorite, but she's also a part of the most popular clique in the Academy! You'd be committing social suicide if you try and even push back against her picking on you!"

I rolled my eyes as I tied my neck tie, which ended up looking sloppily done by the time I was finished. Meh, if I get yelled at for it, then I get yelled at. I've been yelled at so many times for the dumbest things that it got to the point where I barely acknowledged it anymore, even if I had genuinely done something wrong.

"Yeah... she sounds real threatening. Look, if she tries anything with me, I'm giving her a swirly. It's pretty much my go-to method for knocking morons like that off their high and mighty pedestal. Getting your head shoved in a toilet can be a real humbling experience, lemme tell ya."

Trisha laughed nervously, fidgeting with her hands.

"Yeah... I mean, that's not a good idea, and I don't agree with you doing that... buuuttt, if you actually go through with that, can you make sure to tell me?" The blonde girl eyed me, almost pleadingly, and in a tone that seemed... oddly joyful in a sinister way, said, "I wanna see."

I shrugged half-heartedly, slipping my socks on.

"Eh, sure, why not?"

I shit you not, the girl squealed right in my ear, opened up her side of the dresser, and sprinted over to her bed to get dressed for the day. All in the span of what felt like a second.

"Ooohhh, I'm so glad we're friends now!"

I was taken aback as I stared at her, the abruptness of it all irritated me.

"Hey, hold on, no we aren't! Your buddies still attacked me yesterday and you were completely fine with filming it! I'm not letting that crap go!" I said, shaking my head at the audacity to try and act so casually given what happened.

Seriously, did this chick have the memory of a goldfish?

Trisha was in the middle of tugging her undershirt on as she looked at me with a sad "deer in the headlights" look. She did this odd mix of a groan and a whine as she did this overdramatic move of faceplanting on her bed.

She looked back up at me and clasped her hands together pleadingly.

"Can I please just make it up to you then? I can't have my roommate mad at me for the entire school year! It'd be so annoying!" Trisha replied, her night shirt getting waved around in the air as she gestured her arms wildly. "Please! I don't even have footage of you getting beat up! It was mainly footage of you beating them up!"

I tried to just blow her off, but... Trisha did have a point. Besides Trent and obviously Russell, I don't think any of those other bozos actually ended up getting a hit on me. Then again, none of them seemed to be particularly good at fighting anyway. In fact, they all seemed a bit caught off guard when I'd decided to fight back.

Hell, just from the bullshit i've had to deal with at my last 7 schools, I probably had more experience actually tussling with people than them, and that didn't even include those boxing classes my third step-father let me tag along to and watch about 3 years ago.

I sighed, rolling my eyes and grabbing my purse.

"Okay... Fine," I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder as I slipped my shoes on. "You can make it up to me... just don't be weird about it..."

I left the room, hearing Trisha yell out something that sounded like a hurried, "Don'tworryIwon'tbeweir-!" as the door shut behind me.

'Man, I think I might've been a bit too lax on her...' The thought popped in my head as I made my way down the double set of stairs, right past a red head and another girl with glasses gossiping about something I didn't care too much to listen into.

As I passed them, I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched, and I turned back to look at the two. They were still talking, though they were turned away when I definitely remembered them facing my direction as I walked past. Huh, weird. Had they been talking about me?

I wouldn't be surprised if they were, what with what went down yesterday. The new girl beating up an entire group of boys and only getting a bruise and a bloody nose out of it was definitely something that would get gossiped about for a while, maybe about a week. On one hand, it'd probably mean people would leave me alone, at least for a bit... but on the other?

Well, I didn't actually know, but it couldn't have been good for me. That was usually how things went, I'd always get the worst of it.

It was why I started to believe in the concept of past lives, as well as karma. I was probably a real ass in a previous life, and I was only now getting all the negative karma from it.

Mrs. Peabody stood by the front door with a piece of paper, clearly about to go on some spheel about something I didn't too much care about. I ignored whatever she was telling me as I grabbed the paper and stepped through the double doors of the building to the outside... only to be met with a loud, burly voice yelling in my direction.

"HI JENNY!"

The voice was bellowed out by Eunice, a girl I'd helped out yesterday during Gary's tour.

Some doofus with an overly long name that I couldn't be bothered to remember had stolen some chocolates from her that her folks gave her as a gift, so I offered to get them back free-of-charge.

It wasn't difficult, hell, I probably could've done it blind folded. I tracked the thief to the first floor boy's bathroom by following some tossed chocolate wrappers, gave him a swift punch to the gut, and swiped the box of chocolates back as the guy was left heaving on the floor. I guess there were worst places to blow chunks, even though his puke never actually ended up in the toilet bowl.

My "reward" for that simple errand was a hug. Not so bad, maybe just a bit awkward right? Wrong, my back still hurt like hell. I think she might've cracked something in my spine while doing that crap. If I were her, I'd consider a career as a chiropractor... Then again, she'd probably be terrible at it. That kind of stuff was supposed to make you feel good... and I definitely didn't...

I gave the heavy set girl a nonchalant wave, and she walked over to me.

Now... I had to give her this. She did have a nice smile, but man, that voice... I wonder if losing weight would make her sound normal...

Then again, probably not. There was a girl at my 5th school who sounded similar to Gilbert Gottfried without any real effort, that was just her natural voice, and that girl had been as thin as a twig. Some girls really did just get the short end of the stick.

The first one being that they were even born a girl in the first place. Seriously, why did being a girl have to suck so much? Not only do we have to deal with periods, but nobody takes us seriously at all!

Man, sometimes I wish I was a dude, not because I was "confused" about my gender or some crap like that, then people would actually respect me for once. Then they'd take me seriously when I knocked their teeth out.

"There's my main squeeze! How's it going, Jenny?" Eunice said cheerfully, clasping her chubby hands together in front of her chest.

We stood to the side of the archway leading into the large space around the building of the Girl's Dorm, and I noticed some of the younger, middle school girls passing by and giggling about something followed by them not-so-subtly glancing in my direction. Word really was getting around about yesterday, huh? But then, why were they laughing? Wouldn't they be in awe of me instead?

I shrugged, blowing a bit of air as I huffed and looked Eunice's way.

"It's Bullworth, so I guess it could be a lot worse."

Eunice nodded, giving a small smile.

"Yeah... I guess it could be worse, but... y'know, it could always get better too!"

"Uh huh..." I replied, leaning against a nearby stonework wall. I propped my foot up on the wall as I relaxed and just let her talk... up until she snapped her fingers in front of my face. "Yeah?"

Eunice put her hands on her hips, looking a bit frustrated. Shoot, how long had I zoned out?

"I said, do you want to go to class together? It'd be cool if we had the same one for first period, y'know, Chemistry? Mrs. Peabody should've given you your schedule by now."

My gaze shifted to the paper in my hand and, sure enough, it was my class schedule. Conveniently, Chemistry was the first class I had today.

"Yeah, I got Chemistry too. I guess walking together doesn't sound like a bad idea," I said, stuffing my schedule inside my purse, not caring if it ended up a little crumbled.

It's not like I had anything better to do, besides, if those Bullies bothered me again, Eunice could've been some nice backup to have for dealing with them. Or a good meatshield. Either way, there really was no downside to it. For me at least.

Eunice seemed pretty happy about walking together.

"Great! Let's go, I think the bell is about to ring!" Without hesitation, Eunice grabbed me by the hand and, with a ridiculous amount of strength, pulled me with her to Chemistry. Now, usually this would've put somebody in a bad standing with me, but with how strong she turned out to be, I was kinda reluctant on bitching at her about it.

Chemistry class wasn't anything out of the ordinary... Aside from the teacher being blazed out of his mind. Dr. Wattz was clearly high on his own supply, but I didn't know what he was even on. It could've been anything. There were a hell of a lot of chemicals in the room to choose from. I had to wonder if some of them were even allowed to be used around and by a bunch of inexperienced teenagers, especially the kind that attended Bullworth Academy.

You'd think a stoner teacher would be pretty nice, but Dr. Wattz was the opposite. I screwed up by pouring the wrong chemical into my beaker and causing it to blow up in a puff of grey smoke, so the old guy threw a hotplate at me. It didn't end up actually hitting me thanks to a personal lifetimes worth of having to avoid flying objects. Instead, it flew towards that big doofus Russell and shattered to bits the second it connected to his skull. Oddly, and a little bit horrifyingly, Russell didn't give much of a reaction to the heavy metal piece of machinery cracking against his head. Seriously, was that guy even human?

So yeah, Chemistry was kind of weird now that I think about it. If there was any proof that Crabblesnitch was in some pretty heavy denial about the actual state of the school he was running, then that teacher was a damn good example. I mean seriously, what's next? An alcoholic teacher barely hiding the fact that he's chugging a 40 out of a paper bag as he's clicking through a presentation shown on a projector?

...Ok, maybe that was a bit too outlandish.

The bell rang for lunch, and as I left the classroom with Eunice, she and I split up. She wanted us to eat together, but I wasn't really interested.

She tried her hardest to get me to go with her, but I told her I wasn't that hungry. That wasn't really true, but I heard there was gonna be chicken for lunch today, and judging by the state of the food I'd choked down yesterday, I wasn't keen on getting salmonella and God knows what else from eating potentially undercooked chicken.

I headed outside, beelining towards the vending machine. If there was anything still keeping me on this bitch of an Earth, it would probably be Beam cola. Nectar of the Gods.

I shoved a dollar bill into the money slot and pressed the first button, and a can of Beam cola dropped down the machine. The sight of that chilled blue can was like looking down at a clear pond after trekking through a barren desert for miles.

Well, ok, maybe not that great of a sight, but it was still nice to be able to drink one of these again. I hadn't had one in weeks, not since mom had refused to keep buying them since she thought they were the cause of me being overweight. Which... well, she probably wasn't wrong, but it's not like it wasn't her fault since she introduced me to these things in the first place.

Back when I was barely a toddler and being forced by mom into participating in those glitzy beauty pageants, she would pour about half a can of Beam Cola into my sippy cup for me to drink in the morning so I wouldn't act cranky or fall asleep. It'd do the trick, probably since an entire can of Beam cola had about 40% of the daily recommended caffeine. I had a lot of memories that were just of me sitting in front of a mirror and chugging it while mom got me prepared to go on stage.

Yeah... those were the days, when it was mostly mom and me after my grandparents passed.

I felt a frown form on my face as I pulled the tab on the can, and that familiar hiss of the pressure releasing stuck solidly in my head. Whenever I heard it, I didn't know whether to consider it a pleasant noise or a bad one. On one hand, I honestly hated having to do those stupid pageants, hated having all that crappy makeup plastered on my face and those dumb outfits I'd be forced into... But on the other hand?

At least back then, mom actually seemed happy spending time with me. Nowadays she'd rather be with her rich boyfriends or the occasional millionaire she managed to sucker into marriage way more than me.

A little, niggling thought that seemed to shrink by the day tried to convince me that mom was doing it for my benefit, that she was just trying to find the right guy that could take care of the both of us financially.

After all, if it had really been about the money, surely mom wouldn't have told me to pack up and leave with her after she actually saw the last man she'd conned cornering me in the kitchen to do god knows what? The guy ran a goddamn fast food franchise. He was loaded.

She had to care a little. I needed her to.

I'm not sure how I could take it if it turned out she didn't.

The can met my lips and I drank. Leaning against the vending machine, I was thankful there wasn't anyone around at the moment. I could already start to feel myself breaking a bit emotionally, and I was struggling just to keep all the cracked pieces together to put everything back to normal. It was like I was trapped in a constantly shaking room, trying desperately to fix this broken vase that just kept getting cracking into smaller and smaller pieces from all the force.

When I got to being reminded about what my last "step-dad" tried to do to me, it always screwed up my entire day. I was so used to being able to kick the ass of anybody that was dumb enough to cross me that the one time I couldn't fight back...

"Ah Hopkins, I've been meaning to talk to you about what happened yesterday."

I jumped a little and spilled some cola on the ground, turning to see Dr. Crabblesnitch walk out of the front door of the school building. He seemed to glance disapprovingly at the soda in my hand, though I wasn't sure whether it was because he thought I shouldn't be drinking it for whatever reason or because I'd spilled it.

'Wouldn't be surprised if it was the first one.'

"Something wrong sir?" I asked, holding the cola can by the top and casually letting it dangle at my thigh.

"Well no, not really. I wanted to speak to you personally about an incident with some of the male students that you were involved in yesterday, among other things..."

'Alright, here we go..'

"Yes sir? What about it? Am I in trouble?" I said in a slightly disinterested tone.

I already got this guy's gist the day I'd met him. He was just another old prick too stuck in the old days to even see what was going on with the younger generation.

"No, actually. I'm just curious as to why you went near the Boy's Dorm. You weren't trying to go in there, were you?" Dr. Crabblesnitch replied, his tone dripping with suspicion. It's like he was eager to get me in trouble for something.

Been there, done that, and got expelled from my third school because of it.

"I got my directions messed up, that's it. Shouldn't you be getting onto the guys who did this to me?" I pointed out the bruising on both my right cheek from Trent and the punch from Russell that had my nose swollen and inflamed. "It was Trent and Russell by the way. I don't know if Dr. Lamb told you, but it was them."

Crabblesnitch eyed my face, though I got a feeling of disinterest from him.

"She did inform me of those two in particular, and they've been given suitable enough punishments, however..." He went on, and the next thing he said made me want to wring his neck. "I don't entirely believe that you didn't purposefully walk to the Boy's Dorm because you weren't familiar with the layout, as Mr. Northwick informed me that you headbutted him the second you walked onto the school grounds. Is this true? I wouldn't put it past you looking for a fight... given your record..."

I got caught up trying to respond, the audacity of his statement leaving me absolutely perplexed.

"Yeah I did! Because he tried to take money from me!" This guy was seriously trying to tell me I was looking for a fight! It was my first day! The only thing I'd been looking for was the Girl's dorm! "Look, I know my record makes me sound like a real tool, but this place is full of bullies and maniacs!"

Dr. Crabblesnitch, again, seemed to wave off my criticisms.

"Oh nonsense. I'm sure he was just showing a bit of school spirit! Hijinks. I'm sure he was simply just trying to mess with you. Boys will be boys after all. It's perfectly understandable that you didn't quite get it, being a girl and all."

'UUUUGGGGHHHH. Thisplacewillbethedeathofme.'

I felt as though my brain was starting to leak out of my skull after hearing that, I nearly didn't catch the rest of his sentence.

He continued on as I took another sip of soda, the overly sweet liquid bringing me some respite from the bullshit spewing out of his mouth.

"Now, I want you to stop with this nonsense. It's unbecoming of a young lady to be so violent. I want you to behave yourself. Now, I've had a talk with Dr. Lamb, and we've both decided it would be beneficial if you visited her for counseling, starting tomorrow. Understood?"

'Ok. Good. Great. Just treat me like a nutcase I guess. As if i'm the problem here.'

Of course, I couldn't actually tell him that. I'd rather not get the world record for the quickest school expulsion in American history.

...Even if it was kinda tempting...

"Understood, sir. Can I go now?"

I wanted to just curl up in bed and yell into my pillow.

Crabblesnitch gave me a curt nod and straightened out his neck tie. As I waited for his response, I got the odd feeling that we weren't alone, as if somebody else was just around the corner. Odd.

"Good, be on your way then."

The Headmaster walked right back into the main building, and after the door shut behind him, I stuck my middle finger in his direction for a second. It was stupid, but it did make me feel a little better. If only I could do it to his face.

Alas, it simply couldn't be.

"Pfft, 'Good, be on your way' yeah, i'll be on my way..." I muttered to myself, mocking Crabblesnitch's tone, "I'll be on my way to putting my foot up your stupid a-"

"Hey!"

I turned my head to see Slingshot kid standing in front of the small set of stairs leading up to the main school building entrance. His nose had a gauze patch on it, with another one slapped on his forehead, underneath it was a large reddish purple bruise. I tried to remember exactly what I'd done to cause that, until I thought about when i'd pushed Tom into him. Must've landed on his face pretty hard when he fell apparently.

Gary gave me his name yesterday, during the tour. It was Davis White, I think?

Along with his name, I knew at least two things about him from what Gary had told me.

The first was that he was in his senior despite looking a bit on the younger side, he was even pretty short to boot, he couldn't have been taller than 5'4. In fact, he was supposed to graduate last year, but he was so deep into his bullying obsession that he'd purposefully gotten himself held back. Gary doubted Davis even wanted to graduate at all, which was bizarre to me. Being able to bully freshman couldn't have been worth spending yet another year in the hellscape that was an American high school.

The second was that he was basically the "brains" of pretty much every plan the Bullies had. Whenever they'd pull something, it was usually his idea. Another kid, Troy, was supposed to be the second-in-command since Russell liked him the most. But more often than not, when Russell wasn't around, it was either Davis or Trent leading, not him. An easy way to tell whether the idea came from Trent or Davis was fairly easy. For one, Davis wasn't nearly as straightforward with his schemes compared to Trent.

He had his clearly homemade wooden slingshot on hand, giving it a firm grip as he glared at me. Obviously, he was pretty mad at me, but at the same time, there was a sort of confidence to it, like he had something planned out.

"Oh, great. You again. Look, I don't-" I didn't get to finish my sentence before he started talking, his tone accusatory and aggressive.

"I saw you talking to Crabblesnitch. Trent and Russell already got detention because of you, you tryin' to get the rest of us in trouble?" Despite his aggression, he seemed to avoid getting any closer to me. That showed, to me at least, that he had some kind of common sense.

"What?" I said, turning toward Davis. "Shut up. They got what they deserved. Maybe take the hint and-"

He again didn't even let me finish. I saw him lift up the wooden slingshot in his hand, grabbing the rubber band with his other hand.

"Screw you new kid, this is what we do to snitches around here!" Davis lifted up the slingshot and aimed it at me, a pebble stuffed in the middle of the rubble band as he pulled it back.

"You better not-AAow!"

He let the band go, and the pebble struck me in the head. I dropped my Beam cola, which spilled on the ground at my feet.

Son of a bitch, I wasn't done drinking that!

As I got myself together, Davis had the biggest shit eating grin on his face as he let out a snide chuckle.

I grunted angrily, kicking the can away as my shoes were slightly saturated with soda.

"You-!" I snapped, and in response, Davis turned and began to book it to the right of the main school building, yelling back:

"Yeah! Come and get me fatso!"

Well shit! I might as well!

"Get back here!" I yelled back at him, sliding down the stairs railing as he ran ahead.

Was this guy in track? I'd barely turned the corner as he was already past the parking lot. At first, I'd figured that's where he'd been headed, as I recalled Gary mentioning that the Bullies tended to hang out there. They seemed the type to gang up on one person anyway. Instead, I followed him as he turned right again, headed to the path that led to where the Gym, Harrington house, and Shop class were.

Davis pushed past a kid in his way who I realized was actually Pete, who was sent toppling down the small set of stairs along with the stack of books and papers he'd been carrying. Surprisingly, Pete didn't seem much affected by the fall as he yelled out to me from the ground:

"I saw him! He went towards Shop class! To the right of the fountain!"

"I saw. Thanks anyway!" I shouted back at him as I ran past.

Pete could pick himself up. He didn't seem that hurt.

I took another turn and spotted as Davis ran through the gate that led into the Shop area. Just before it shut behind him, Wade ran through and confronted me.

"I'VE GOT HER!"

We collided with each other and ended up in a grapple, grabbing at each other's arms to stop the other from hitting them. As hard as he tried, he couldn't wrangle his arms away from me, but neither could I. The most I could do was try to knee at his gut, but my short legs either didn't connect or barely did so. My height was really biting me in the ass here.

"OHHHHH I'VE BEEN LOOKIN' FORWARD TO THIS!" Wade tried kicking at me too, but I was able to back off a little and avoid it, but only barely. I was stuck on how to get the upper hand until I noticed the nearby trash can that we just so happened to be slowly making our way towards.

Hm... That'll work.

"Yeah... So was I..." I said as a wide grin spread across my face. The unhinged glee Wade had had on his own face turned into a worried confusion as we were right beside the trash can. Without hesitation, I tossed him into the can ass first.

"HEY! I-I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU!" Wade cried as he tried to pull himself out of the metal trashcan. He didn't seem to be making much headway, though, in fact he seemed to be accidentally digging himself deeper in his attempt. Clearly, he wasn't used to being on the receiving hand of getting tossed into a garbage can.

"Better luck next time!" I called back, heading towards the metal doors into the Shop class area. Thankfully, it hadn't been locked, but it took me an embarrassing amount of time to realise the doors were supposed to slide open to the side. As they did and I sprinted in, I spotted Davis behind a fence taunting me.

"You're too slow! Hahaha!"

He took off again when I ran into the fence, grabbing it and seething in frustration until I realized it wasn't enclosed. There was an opening to the right of me, and without hesitation, I ran for the turn and followed after him.

It was odd to see the shop not be surrounded by all those Greaser dorks. Yesterday, after the tour of the main school building, Gary showed me around the entire campus. Those guys were scattered around the entire place like they owned it. We didn't stick around the area long, since the Greasers clearly hadn't wanted us there... well, aside from the fat one whose name escaped me at the moment.

That guy gave me some serious bedroom eyes as I walked by, and when I pointed it out to Gary, he laughed and told me about how that Greaser in particular was into fat women.

After learning that, i've considered going easy on the Beam colas from now on.

I heard the loud sound of a garage door slamming down and looked towards the source. At the back of the shop building was some kind of smaller building, presumably another garage. I figured I'd have a hard time trying to get it open, but surprisingly, the shutter door slid upwards without much effort.

I quickly found out why.

A 2x4 wooden plank was swung at me, and I barely managed to dodge it with a clumsy roll that ended with me stumbling back into the nearby brick wall of Shop class.

Ethan, the kid obsessed with ninjas that i'd gut punched yesterday, was the guy who'd swung the board at me. As I got up with my back flat on the wall, Ethan swung the board around in the air like he was swinging a sword, complete with making swishing sounds with his mouth. How the hell was this guy a bully? He's acts like a complete dork!

"Man- Ethan! Knock it off with that crap and just hit her with it!" Tom said from a back corner of the room. He seemed to be distancing himself as far as possible from me and Ethan, I'm assuming he was reluctant to get near me due to what happened the last time he did. Good, let him be afraid. If a lot of the jerks around here were smarter, they'd do the same.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Ethan turned his head and yelled back, stupidly holding the board right in front of me within grabbing distance. I grabbed for it, yanking the plank of wood out of his hand. As he whipped his head back to face me, I swung the board and hit him in the stomach. He doubled over, and I hit him with it again, this time in the back with enough force to break the board in half.

Ethan crumpled to the ground, and I threw the piece of wood I'd been holding to the back of me.

I looked up at Tom, and whatever expression I'd had on my face must've been threatening because instead of trying to fight back, he had decided to shove himself into the corner of the room.

I took a few steps closer, and without missing a beat, Tom grabbed a nearby wooden ruler and held it out in front of him defensively.

"S-stay away from me you crazy bitch!"

"You know, this really could've been avoided, but no. Maybe you should've thought a bit more before thinking it was a good idea to jump me with your buddies."

"It wasn't even my idea! It was all Davis!"

"Wow. I really don't care."

I ran up to brunet and smacked the ruler out of his hand, clocking him in the face. He fell onto a nearby wooden crate that shattered into a heap of wood. Barely had to break a sweat with that one. He laid flat on the concrete floor, moaning and whimpering.

I rolled my eyes and walked over to the other garage door that Davis had gone through, opening it as easily as the last one.

I stepped into the open area, getting confronted by Troy, the ginger kid who had absolutely no inside voice to speak of. Possibly the most absurd thing anyone has ever said to me came out of his mouth, and I was split between laughing or just smacking the shit out of him. Maybe both.

"I'M GONNA HIT YOU HARDER IN THE OVARIES THAN YOU HIT ME IN THE BALLS!"

He charged toward me, and without hesitation, I took the lid off of a nearby metal trashcan and held it out in front of me.

As he neared, I whacked the lid across Troy's face, and he anticlimactically fell to the ground with a loud thump.

That was easy.

I went further along and finally found Davis standing on top of a structure made up of what looked like garbage. He seemed far less confident than he had after launching that pebble at me.

He kicked away the ladder he'd used to climb up the structure, which left me unable to get up to him on foot without risking something going wrong. That structure didn't exactly look all that stable, and trying to grab on it probably would've caused the whole thing to fall over.

"You stay away from me!" Davis said, his tone betraying how scared he actually was.

I threw the trash can at him like a frisbee, and it hit him in the arm. He stumbled a bit but managed to balance himself, the structure creaking and shifting as it was on the verge collapsing on itself.

"Get away, you psycho!" Davis yelled, voice cracking mid-sentence. His hand grabbed onto the wall behind him for balance. I scooped a nearby brick off the ground and prepared to throw it at him.

"What's wrong? Can't take what you dish out?! Huh?!" I didn't give two shits if he was scared of me. Let him be. Maybe he and his buddies'll learn to finally not fuck with me after this. I didn't care how much I would end up hurting these jerks. If they insisted on bullying and harassing me, then they were pretty much asking for anything that happens to them.

I wound up my arm and threw the brick, which hit him in the jaw. That was enough. Davis stumbled back, and the structure couldn't take anymore of it. It collapsed in on itself as some of the trash that kept everything together tumbled out in multiple directions. I saw Davis jumping away from the collapsing structure with a yelp as the entire thing fell apart, falling on his face to the asphalt below.

As everything settled, Davis laid flat on the ground, letting out a quiet groan as he rolled onto his back. I walked over to him, and as I looked him over, I noticed the slingshot he'd shot me with in his front left pants pocket. Without hesitating, I grabbed it. Davis noticed this, though didn't seem to bother with getting up. I didn't doubt he was actually hurt. Hell, I'd probably broken something in his face just from tossing that brick at him. Given that entire ordeal he and his buddies just put me through, I personally couldn't muster up the care to feel bad about it.

Clutching at his face with one hand, Davis tried grabbing for the slingshot with the other, giving a weak protest to go along with it.

"H-hey!" Davis said with a pained groan, "That's mine y-you jerk!"

It clearly hurt for him to talk, and the part of his jaw I'd hit was starting to redden and swell up.

So I kicked Davis in that same area and swiped the slingshot from his hands. He began yelling and soon crying as he grabbed at his face.

I simply turned and walked out of the Shop area, passing by the other boys on my way there.

'I'm sure this'll come up during my talk with Dr. Lamb tomorrow...' I thought as I neared the fountain.

I was just about to sit down on the base of the fountain when I felt a pair of hands on me.

With a yelp, I was pulled back, feeling my back hit what felt like a guy's chest. His breath hit my ear, and that was enough to freak me out. In my panic, I kicked back at whoever it was and connected with what felt like his kneecap.

"Yow! Hey! What's wrong with you?!" From the voice I realized it was Gary of all people, and as I backed away and turned around, I saw him clutching his left leg. I wanted to slug him in the jaw, but since my energy was spent from earlier, I yelled at him instead.

"W-what's wrong with me?! What's wrong with you?! Do you just grab girls like that all the time?!" I yelled back. What even was his thought process? Did he think I'd just be ok with it or something because I didn't hate him?

I was really starting to regret letting this guy off easy calling me a cunt. I couldn't even remember why I'd let him off the hook in the first place.

Gary winced a bit as he rubbed at his leg, clearly still a bit miffed. He straightened himself out and glared at me.

"Geeze Jen, I was just trying to scare you a little, you know, to be funny. I didn't think you'd freak out about so much," Gary put his hands up in a lax but defensive way. He got right next to me and casually put a hand on my shoulder. "Anyway, what's up? You're a bit jumpy today. Did something happen recently?"

I moved my shoulder to get his hand off of me, and before he could respond, I replied to his previous question.

"Those douchebags jumped me again because Trent and Russell got in trouble for what happened yesterday, Davis shot a pebble at my face and lured me into the Shop area where the rest of them were waiting to gang up on me," I showed Gary the slingshot briefly before stuffing it into my purse, "I also took Davis' slingshot. Mostly because I could."

"Aw, you beat them up again? And I didn't get to see it? You know, that's really inconsiderate of you Jane, you should've told me so I could've watched. I probably hate those morons the most out of every neanderthal in this place."

I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, ok, Gary. I'll be sure to let you know beforehand if I get jumped again. I'll even set out a nice chair for you to sit in too. Would you like that princess?"

"Yeah, that sounds nic- Wait, what did you just call me?"

"Huff huff JENNY!"

Trisha came running from the single back door of the main school building, barely avoiding bumping into me and Gary. She bent over to catch her breath for a second. Her hair was messier than it usually was, presumably from her sprinting.

She looked up at me with her makeup smudged face and spoke at a mile a minute... which, as a claim, only made any sense if you were around to hear her while she was talking.

"Jenny!Theguysaregonna-!" Trisha went quiet as soon as she spotted Gary, who, as he had laid eyes on her, sneered in disgust.

"Ugh, what is she doing here? Hey, short bus, don't you have something better to do other than polluting my air? Like whoring yourself out to those Preppies to buy all those dumb anime figurines you have!" Gary said, practically shouting out the last part of his sentence for anyone nearby to hear... At least they would have if Trisha hadn't starting screaming after Gary uttered the word, "whoring".

I covered my ears and yelled:

"Trisha! Gary! CUT IT OUT! GEEZE!"

Trisha stopped with the screaming, but Gary was more than happy to continue talking.

"Why do I have to quit talking? I didn't do anything, I just asked a question, come oooonnnnn Jenny," Gary visibly pouted, as if he thought he could guilt trip me or something. I wasn't having any of it. Instead, I turned back to Trisha.

"Lemme guess, you were gonna warn me about your buddies jumping me near Shop class, am I right?" I folded my arms, tilting my head quizzically at her.

She seemed amazed by the fact that I was already aware.

"Uh... Yeah? How'd you know?"

"Because I literally just beat them all up. Again. Look."

I turned and pointed in the direction of Shop Class, and the first thing I noticed was Wade still being stuck in the trash can. He'd seemingly given up on trying to get out of it, pitifully looking down and probably waiting for one of his friends to pull him out. But instead of it being one of his friends, it would end up being Trisha.

I turned back to her.

"The rest of the boys are inside the Shop area, so have fun dragging them all out of there I guess..." Suddenly, a realization came to me, "Trisha... How come you only just now tried to warn me about what the Bullies were planning? Seems like a weird coincidence that you got here right after it all went down..."

Trisha suddenly appeared a bit nervous, but before she could speak, Gary decided to butt in again.

"Yeah... What is it, Trisha? Upset that my good pal Jenny here caught onto your act? C'mon, answer you whore!" He prodded Trisha in the shoulder, which only seemed to make her even more nervous than she already was. It was also clear that Gary's slut shaming was also getting to her, and it drew a line with me that I knew I had to put a stop to.

"Gary, knock it off, seriously."

Gary groaned and turned away.

"Finnneeee..." He turned his head briefly to talk over his shoulder, "Trisha should explain herself though. I'm telling you Jen, she might be hiding something."

"I do have an explanation actually Gary! So shut your gap-toothed, wannabe know-it-all ass up!"

I was at my limit. Without an ounce of hesitation, I grabbed the two of them and knocked their heads together.

"Yow! What was that for?"

"Ow, Jenny, stop! My old therapist told me I have enough brain damage!"

"Just. Talk. Trisha! And shut up, Gary!"

Gary, for once, seemed to be able to stay quiet as Trisha began explaining herself.

"Ok, so I got in trouble for drawing during Algebra 3 class, so I got sent to lunch detention where Russell and my brother Trent were because of that whole thing from yesterday. Well... the teacher watching over us, Mr. Burton stepped out for a little bit, so we all started talking and stuff. I mentioned to Trent about how you ended up as my roommate, and he told me about how Davis planned to lure and jump you at the area around Shop class during lunch with the rest of the guys. I tried to sneak out to warn you, but Mr. Burton came back, and he wouldn't let me leave even though I'd already finished my lunch. But then Russell got mad about something, and so got Burton was distracted by that. So here I am!"

Huh, yeah I guess that made sense. So Trent is her brother then? I thought those two looked a bit similar. I guess that explains why she even hung out with those bozos.

"You really expect us to believe that? Don't be so gullible Jen, she's clearly trying to cover her ass."

"Gary!"

"What?"

"I'm telling the truth! Seriously!"

"I know! Ugh, just... just go pick up your buddies off the pavement and leave!" I pointed towards the Shop area, then looked over to Gary, "We need to talk..."

Trisha seemed more than happy to leave, even giving Gary a quick glare as she jogged away towards Wade. I gave Gary a glare of my own, but just like with Trisha's, it didn't seem to bother him much.

"Gary, what the hell was that?"

"Whatever do you mean, Jane? I'm just looking out for you. You'd do the same for me, wouldn't you?" he tilted his head, his face looking almost like a whipped dog. It didn't make him look all that sympathetic, though. I actually wanted to slug him in the face even more than I previously did.

I shook my head, still looking up at him angrily.

"Gary, she's my roommate. I can't just start beef with the girl i'm sharing a room with," I responded, trying to relax a bit. Gary was making that a bit hard though, what with him making probably the most punchable face possible at the moment. He was really bad at trying to look innocent.

He let out a defeated "tsk" and folded his arms.

"You really got stuck with her as a roommate? You have my pity, Jane, seriously... But fine, I won't agitate her, in fact... she could probably be a bit useful to us later... As long as you can stomach being nice to that spastic attention whore..."

That last bit of his sentence before the insult gave me a bit of pause. Useful? What for?

"Useful?" I asked, "For what? You make it sound like you're planning something big. Mind tellin' me about it?"

A knowing smile stretched across his face. I'd been a bit preoccupied with... uh, "admiring" it that him touching me on the shoulder as he guided me down the steps and towards the direction of the parking lot hadn't registered at all.

"Yes, useful. I can't say much since i'm still working out the details, but there's no need to worry your little head about all that... Now, c'mon, how's about we work on your aim with that slingshot you've got there? I know just the perfect place to practice..."

#bully scholarship edition #bully se #bully rockstar #bully canis canem edit #bully game #jimmy hopkins #gary smith #pete kowalski #eunice pound #bully oc #bully anniversary edition #bully au #bully fanfic #fanfic #writing

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anti-ao3 · 1 year ago

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I wonder if people's opinions on incest would change if we had actual documentation regarding the psychological effects of incest between people of similar ages. I wanted to write a paper on the subject, but it seems like accessible papers on sibling incest, cousin incest, etc. and their effects are lacking. I had to look through forums for firsthand accounts and a lot of people in those relationships seem to suffer from abuse, isolation, or both, and as a result the relationship becomes heavily codependent. But hey, I guess that's what's hot now, so who cares about all the people who grew up thinking codependency was fine and purposefully putting themselves in terrible situations that damaged them in multiple ways? (That last sentence was sarcasm.)

(Sorry for not replying sooner!)

Now that I think of it, yeah I don't think I've seen enough research on incest. People always bring up the biological aspect (like two related people having a kid is bound to go wrong, genetically speaking), but I never see the psychological effects being brought to light. Which sucks. I only hear about them from people who have gone through it, not actual studies. And yet society doesn't take it seriously at all. It's pretty much normalized or treated like a sexual fantasy. Sometimes I wonder if people who find incest "hot" have ever gone through it. Like, I know some do that to cope (and I do NOT condone it before you ask), but reading how fascinated people are with incest by treating it as a sexy "taboo"... like to me it's obvious they refuse to understand how harmful it really is.

(I know you said you don't have many resources for your essay, but if one day you're able to write it, I would like to read it.)

#asks #incest tw

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foxfairy06 · 1 year ago

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Ollie here again. does really matter whether i point that out so whatever. u said you weren't rude and then called me a pissbaby so, And the "saying super homophobic shit" I'm aro/ace myself nor do i believe legit anything of what i said that was homophobic, u will not believe me. i do not care.

You diagnosis a "brief" examination

I myself am diagnosed and that was the way i was diagnosed myself, i explained another version which I myself was also diagnosed under, as you can see we cannot relate with how we were diagnosed, so this is proving my point that how you have gotten diagnosed is not a universal thing so you can now see why i was skeptical, because even with telehealth if you don't have insurance, it still costs money. which this also depends on where you live, because in America they do not care about free healthcare. and from the places that i understand that do give free healthcare like Canada if your a birthed citizen , and like Australia or smth, How you got diagnosed is not universal, it depends where you live and what hospital you go to ect.

hypocrisy: the examination.

You clearly weren't understanding the meaning of what this word is so i will put it here along with the example i previously stated. from the Merriam-Webster "a person who acts in contradiction to his or her stated beliefs or feelings" you say you support Trans ppl but if they don't meet your criteria of what YOU think a trans person should be you, exclude them. your reply was also not related to the point i was attempting to make, "It's not hypocrisy to provide a safe space for a group and exclude people" You should have worded that better with the point you were attempting to make, Ill use a similar example to one a friend told me "i joined a adhd club and they kicked me out because i wasn't "adhd enough" Its what you are doing and its hypocrisy, you are telling people "yep i support trans people but oh if you don't have a diagnosis something that sometimes cost quite a bit of money, you aren't valid and you aren't transgender because i say so", not a exact quote but you should get the idea.

I was incorrect: a analysis.

I will say i was incorrect about rad meds and trans meds. "If you would actually interact with trans meds instead of foaming at the mouth and screaming in all caps whenever you see one you would know that."

Sorry that i don't wanna associate with someone who's harming the transgender community and states that the multiple years of my transition aren't real because i wasn't diagnosed, and that I've basically only been a actual trans man as of recent because i got my diagnosis within the last 6 months. so all of that experience i've had was just me being a tomboy..

Do you hear how that sounds crazy, that everything i learned in all those years, I've labeled myself as trans is now just me being a tomboy woman who was just struggling with their mental health and how their body looked ect. ect. that's saying that my entire transition was just me pretending to be a man. that's so heartbreaking knowing that some trans people in my own community didn't see me as a man because i didn't have a diagnosis. but maybe you got a diagnosis before you started transitioning so you might not even know how that feels, but what do i know right?

You arent a poor child: a small examination

Yes i did look into this, now if you mean the term like poor as in lack of dollars maybe, that could be the cause and I'm not going to discriminate against that.

You could have meant poor as in "woe of me" type of way.

But you aren't a child. your in college , as u stated on your Youtube video, which is public, and i will ask you to please ask non trans meds about the information in your videos because me and my inclusionist friends definitely saw false things in your "lgbt 101" episodes, which you say are based of your opinion and how there are others that exist but you never actually go over those opinions and let a watcher think about which one they believe themselves.

And harassment in America means: " It is commonly understood as behavior that demeans, humiliates, and intimidates a person,"

I haven't attempted to lower you statue in the trans med community and i do not care to do so.

I did attempt to humble you, but the information that i believed was to be correct was false and you instead humbled me so, its whatever.

and i will say i took the screenshots incase you did delete anything or attempt to spread a false narrative, but i did not have any mean to actually use the photos against you in any way. as i said in this message which you have most likely seen "its possible they are sending screenshots of not the whole story so i have the whole thing", saying "gathering stuff on the owner" was false and i do not care enough about you, which u could say "oh you do, you've sent me 2 asks and talked to me on discord" being blind sighted by rage is a interesting thing. i cared about making a impact, because i was angry.

You told me i needed to get help, some people can not afford to get a therapist, i don't want a therapist that i wont feel comfortable with and have been taking my time searching for one that will fit me. I'm glad that you are able to get the therapy and help you need for little to nothing but i able unable to do so.

-ollie,

I'm still annoyed but I'm not angry so.

hopefully this is enough for you.

> you said you weren't rude and then called me a pissbaby

Because i wasn't rude in the chat. I wasn't rude to you, until you were rude to me. See how that works?

> I'm aro/ace myself, nor do i believe the things i said, not that you'd know that though

I know you were trolling. However you thought the best thing to do was harass a server that is open and accepting of asexuals and run by several asexuals was to pretend like you avidly oppose asexuals, and make homophobic claims you do not believe in because you wanted to hurt people. And we're the group that's harmful? Right.

> the way i got diagnosed is different from the way you gotten diagnosed, so you can see it's not a universal thing, blah blah blah.

I live in america. In a red state. I have zero insurance. I have not spent nor will I spend a single cent and yet i am being diagnosed in two appointments, one in person and one over the phone. I am not using telehealth. I also have an entire server full of diagnosed people. Some have been diagnosed for no additional costs to the physical medical services they attended to in the ER, physician visits, PBH, ect. So don't give me that. It is not difficult to get a diagnosis if you attempt to do so.

> your example of why you aren't a hipocrite isn't true because i had a better one, and adhd club that kicks people out with adhd for not being ADHD enough.

That isn't what this is. Ths isn't a "trans enough." Debate. This is a "trans at all" debate. Only trans people.

> your belief that you must be diagnosed

I never said you must be diagnosed not has any common transmed ever said that. It's a strictly radmed thing. We believe you must have reportable or "diagnosable" dysphoria. Which includes persistent euphoria in most cases because euphoria is caused by dysphoria.

> sorry i don't want to spend time with people who told me my years of transition aren't real because i wasn't diagnosed

I can't confirm this isn't true but my other mods have seen your account and know that you are likely a minor so imma take that with a grain of salt. I highly doubt transmeds have been telling you your transition isn't real because you weren't diagnosed. A, because transmeds are quiet irl. B, because there is only a very small portion who believe you need to carry a diagnosis to be trans. C because if you're willing to cry and scream to get your way you're willing to lie too. I used to be like you, I've played this game.

> you aren't a poor child

I never said i was? That was a comparison. You must be either dim or completely unable to read context clues to come to the conclusion that i made that claim-

> Which you stated in your YouTube video

Lemme get this straight, you are so pissed, so mentally unstable that not only did you troll my server, send super long messages to the mods, and send THREE 3 (•••) super long asks, but you also stalked my YouTube channel and got pissy over there? Jesus man. Get your issues under control.

> Your LGBT 101 series was wrong and you should have used inclusionist points blah blah blah

I used to be an inclusionist. I know that stuff is incorrect. Not only this, but if anyone wants to know the inclusionist set of beliefs i have an breakdown of that on my Discourse Academy series that breaks inclusionist and exclusionist beliefs down. I stated in the beginning that my beliefs are not everyone's. If they want to see other people's beliefs they can literally go to every other lgbt education channel. Which are almost all explicitly inclusionist.

> behavior that demeans, humiliates, or intimidates a person

• demeans

- name calling, personal attacks, homophobia, transphobia, acephobia

• humiliates

- name calling, personal attacks against members

• intimidates

- horrible statements that all of us associate with actual conservatives who have harmed us in the past. Which you would not do to other LGBT people if you had experienced because you would know what that feels like.

>I do not care... ...I cared because I was making an impact and was angry

You did not make an impact, you looked like a screaming monkey to everyone else involved.

You clearly did care because you send THREE (3) {•••} Novel long asks, which i know because you referenced the radmed one, you looked through my entire YouTube channel, send novel long messages to all of the mods for muting you for saying fucked shit, and you went out of your way to troll because you can't get your shit in order.

You are being a hypocrite by making this statement as you directly contradict yourself in literally the next sentence.

> you told me to get some help but I can't do that before I can't afford it

If you can't afford therapy than maybe you should think before doing something that clearly shows you need therapy. You can always check into an ER and they can send you to a mental hospital. Normally medicaid covers those.

This is not a brag. This is you displaying your complete lack of self control, and obsessive behavior, as well as a lack of anger management. You need to see a therapist. I promise you there are places in your area that do it for free or very cheap. If you don't want to go to a therapist you don't like, have you considered you don't like the therapist because they're breaking down your bad behavior?

Ps. I know you're angry because no calm or rational person sends an anonymous ask this long

Everyone else... This little guy is such a riot huh? It's hilarious honestly, I'm gonna see if he left any mean comments on my YouTube videos.

#exclusionist #gravity knife gay #anti inclusionist #anti inclus #battleaxe bi #longsword lesbian #exclus #transmed #transmed safe #esai lgbt #pro transmedicalist #pro truscum #truscum safe #anti mogai #anti terf #anti xenogender

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lavender-teardroplettes · 9 months ago

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Since Saint and Rosie responded- I think it's time for me to type out my thoughts about this situation. I was never really active in the 14dwy community, no. I wasn't in the discord and have gotten a lot of my context through conversations and reading both sides accounts and perspectives through screenshots, yes, but the truth of the matter here lies in two key points to me: This is absolutely a situation that is heavily steeped in the fact that Winndy is autistic and while it is messy and SHOULD have been kept private- that's extremely hard to do when one side started the slander and character defamation and this started when a mod used damning wording in regards to how Winndy left the server. My thoughts are still a little jumbled because of work and wedding planning, but there will be more under the cut. This is just the initial response to the replies you can read below, and I'll be frank in stating that while I've never personally talked with Saint, Winndy and I aren't very close as compared to other people involved and am just coming at this from a dethatched and nuanced point of view with input on how this relates fully back to autism as someone who has gone through similar falling outs due to my own undiagnosed autism.

On both sides, I don't think anyone intended for this to get as big as it did, but here we are. Intentions are funny things and whenever they're brought up I bring up the saying "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." I can understand wanting harmony in your community, wanting to bring up concerns and fix issues within your spaces- but this was not the time to do so, how it was handled on both sides is a clear sign of it. The first fault- really, was having someone sick with covid and not in their right mind to handle such a big undertaking, and the second being one of the biggest issues I have with this whole falling out- Winndy's father just passed. I find it really hard to believe that no one gave that any thought, though I'll give a pass to Rosie for it slipping her mind because again, she had covid, but as a mod myself I find it hard to believe that it wasn't noted anywhere or by anyone else- but that's my personal opinion.

Also, in my personal opinion, Saint should have been the one to handle this from the get go if it was really about hearing it from a friend to soften the blow of- and I'm stripping away the wording used in Rosie's message to tell you how it reads off to multiple people here- what essentially boils down to "Your autistic traits are annoying and you need to change yourself. Why haven't you fixed your behavior that we only brought up to you a year ago (not even if it's only been ~8 months) and haven't had any consistent follow ups or one on one personal dms about since?" You were friends, reminders to use tone tags or an ACTUAL conversation about how Winndy talks about, say, Teo and Ren, would have gone MILES to fix this issue and gentle pushes to engage with other people ocs is what we mean by communication is key. There's such a clear LACK of it that's the real disheartening thing to me here.

Autistic people, more often than not, need constant reminders if something doesn't click in their brain right away- and that can take literal YEARS depending on where they are spectrum wise. It took me until 7th grade to learn long division properly (you start learning in 4th where I went to school) and I was constantly belittled, called the r-slur, shunned- you name it- but one day I got it and it was now the next challenge to learn something that just didn't stick right away like it did with so many other things. The way Winndy socializes in the discords I'm in with them is the same- it's clear that they're autistic as someone who also tends to ramble about my oc. They're our special interest, of course we're going to bring them up when we see an opening and of course we want other people to like them too, but we also maybe get tunnel vision and not even realize that we're being seen as overbearing. We also tend to get comfortable in a space and feel comfortable enough to not have to worry about masking or being "too autistic to handle"- because being told that hurts and kills our joy more than you can ever imagine. A major part of that, in Winndy's case, was that they were in the discord since it started. I understand needing to change rules, or asking for less bullying of characters even in the playful sense- but you're asking someone to completely change how they've spent the last two years intaracting in a space in an instant. What you're expecting from Winndy immediately, without actually putting the work into it as friends and instead only as mods 'treating everyone the same', is almost impossible as an autistic person and it's something that's being overlooked heavily. And again- my focus is on the word Immediately. ~8 months my seem like a long time, but trust me, it's not. You can only change so much in less than a year and, again, it's something that needs to be gently reassured.

Did Winny make people uncomfortable? Sure, I can't really say for other people, but it's something they also are acknowledging and apologizing for. I don't think that it should be considered "running away" when it's clear that they were pushed out of what was once a safe space for THEM first- one that OTHERS who have left have acknowledged that was slowly snowballing into less and less of one even before this situation happened- specifically other ex mods that left for their own reasons and issues they saw within the server as first hand accounts.

I will ask this again since it was ignored- Why do you have an anonymous survey when it's clear that having this option only leads to targeted harassment, and why are you only removing it in your suggestions section when your old mod team from a year ago- not just Winndy- brought up those concerns. And another thing, if you have a 2000+ discord, you should encourage your fan base to create their own safe spaces OUTSIDE of the community server. It's fun to be in one whole big community, but with that number in context it's hard to NOT see this as a targeted hit on one of the most active members you had in your server with the added carried over distain for last year's survey/when Winndy was a mod. THAT'S how friendships burn quickly.

Everyone has every right to their own feelings regarding this, but for just one moment, close your eyes and imagine being Winndy- cleaning out the apartment her father DIED in from an accident, and receiving the messages and responses she did while talking to friends. I would have vented too, I would have pressed my concerns with it too while speaking to FRIENDS I thought I could vent to and actually discuss things with just to get more of an understanding or clarifications even after saying that it wasn't the time, because you know what? The only other thing I'd have to think about was how I LOST my father on top of so many other people like in Winndy's case. This also circles back to autism, because now they not only have the stress of their last rock in this world, but now have all these thoughts about how they act, again, tied back to autism, makes people uncomfortable. It reaffirms that there's something wrong with us, and....just....can you not see how this caused a spiral for them? How there really wasn't anyway else that things would have gone down if not like this? Saint, I'm sorry you lost your cousin- but would that NOT give you more reason to give them more grace in the situation and not send a long winded document that ended with "could you be less selfish?" Let me ask you- where is your empathy? That part was omitted because Winndy didn't want to compare losses and felt like it was too personal to share and not relevant to the post- that's it.

Haaa... I'm going to wrap this up because I could honestly go on for WAY longer in fully addressing how messed up this is, but my last point is the extremely pointed language used from Saint and her mod team. Whatever your intentions were, when you use the language you have as given in both Winndy's edited screenshots and Saint providing them in full- it doesn't make you (the mod team) look any better in my eyes. It comes off as blaming Winndy while also wiping your hands of any responsibility or accountability because 'it's for the greater good of the community' while also trying to play the friend card and lessen the damage that you're feeling due to this falling out bringing up other major issues with your community that have snowballed into what we're dealing with now. Confronting people is always scary, yes, but if you're going to run a community you HAVE to do it and you have to approach things correctly and with caution and respect for everyone involved- no matter if you're friends with them or have underlying negative feelings towards them. And if YOU can't do it, you need people who are actually better experienced in handling tough situations and tense talks. This should have been talked out by ALL the mods and Saint with Winndy in a private chat so all sides could communicate fully, there should have been more one on one dms and frank conversations between everyone involved so everyone was on the right page, I can go on, hindsight is a bitch.

And I WILL be frank here- Winndy isn't ignoring and downplaying the concerns you brought up, the issue lies in the deeper cut that they were disregarded as a friend first. Their trust was broken first, their name was slandered first, but...sure, they're being the hypocrite here when I can see where you (the mod team + Saint) are also being hypocritical, picking and choosing what to respond to both in the reblogs and your rules for your own narratives and your version of the story, and, AGAIN, using extremely pointed language that only adds fuel to the fire. Instead of just saying "we parted ways due to personal issues" you called her a "guilt tripper, hostile, deflective, and avoidant"- how is she supposed to feel getting DMED about it after she left ON TOP of losing another family member in such close time to losing others within the last 2 years.

I'm going to say it again- do better. At least some fault has been expressed on (the mod team's) side, but to call this 'not about autism' or the clear lack of actually communicating between FRIENDS- not just mods- is the biggest lie in this whole situation. And again- Winndy admits their faults, saying that they're not is blatantly ignoring the accountability they take in their statement.

I did not wish to make this, I do not wish to bring bad light to others, so I am doing everything I can in this statement to keep it as vague as possible to grant others the same privacy I should have. But because my privacy was not respected I have no choice but to come forward with this.

If you know what I am talking about, then this is my side of things. If you don't know what I am talking about, then please move on.

(Also to note, I realize what day I am posting this on. This is absolutely NOT a joke.)

To preface this. My dad died suddenly Feb 26th. I cannot begin to detail what it feels like to lose him, after I've lost many others, to try and handle my emotions and grief while also handling the logistics of his belongings and estate, all this while having to write this on top of it. If I come across as intense, this is why.

I was in a discord server when it first opened. I dedicated a lot of time, energy, art and passion to it. I was even a mod at one point but stepped down due to my own reasons.

While there, we had an anonymous survey posted to gather information from the community about the server, what we could do to improve, what was liked and so on. Instead, some used it as a means to anonymously complain about members. I was a target of these complaints.

A quick note. This server was made within a community that has suffered MANY hardships due to anons. Keep this in mind.

One of the rules is that if you have a personal grievance with another member, to try to resolve it through DMs before coming to a mod or to even send in a ticket.

I must be clear; I was NEVER DMed by anyone how I made them uncomfortable. Not once. Nor were these complaints directly messaged to the mods. This was all through the survey (I will touch up more on this later).

I and other staff/mods that used to be on the team suggested we remove the anonymity. It's too risky for it to be abused, because as noted earlier, this community has suffered a lot through abuse from anons. This suggestion was ignored.

Now, I suppose I should say what the complaints were about. I was told I made others uncomfortable due to, and I am paraphrasing here; "talking over others, redirecting conversations back to myself and my ocs, and making too many jokes and insults about characters."

I will also say. I am autistic. What was mentioned are signs of someone with autism. My dad was autistic. I do not bring this up to deflect or excuse anything, merely to give further context.

I want to explain a bit of my process when I interact with others, in this case especially pertaining to an online space.

When I am talking with someone, anyone, I try to be as inclusive and welcoming as I can be. Saying hello, how they’re doing, that sort of thing. But a conversation is a two way street. If I don’t get a reply or any sort of means to keep the conversation going, I move on. That’s just… how talking goes. I can get very passionate in talking to folks, especially friends and things in line with my interests. It’s hard for me to notice if folks are uncomfortable in person, online it is impossible to tell. I need people to tell me directly if I am doing something uncomfortable and what it is, and if I can fix it.

My process for ocs is this: I see someone talking about their oc, they say something that reminds me of one of mine, then I share my oc. This is not to direct the conversation to me, but to share in it, it is in conjunction. I want to learn more of yours and I do that best by sharing mine. I cannot know if this isn't what you want if I am not told. And I wasn't.

I like to make jokes about characters, analyze them, critique them. I try to do this in a way that makes it clear this isn't an insult to those who like the character(s). But again, I need to be told directly by someone if I need to stop or tone it down. I would only be told sparingly by folks, and when I would, of course I'd stop, do my best to tone it down. But again, I was rarely told directly by people.

What is being described as my crimes are simply the experience of being autistic.

I cannot control it. I cannot stop it. I try to be as inclusive, warm and welcoming to all I come across. You do not HAVE to like me. But if you don't, just ignore me. You HAVE to learn to ignore people who you just… don't like. You have to learn to ignore pet peeves or to reasonably talk to the person. That's life.

So, when I received the above message, I was furious. I was at my dad’s apartment, cleaning out his stuff, and dealing with some harrowing emotions when I got this. I responded that getting this was extremely poor timing and yes, I was angry. But the one who sent this KNEW my dad died. They had seen me post about it, they acknowledged it, and still decided to message me. Who wouldn’t be angry?

Because of what I had been messaged, and the timing, I had decided to go to the owner of the server. I did not feel like it was appropriate for a mod, any mod, to message me about something that is a personal issue that folks should have messaged me themselves (and again, it is listed in the rules that things SHOULD be talked out privately between members before a mod gets involved), in a time that has been hell on earth for me.

I explained to the server owner what all happened with my feelings on the matter. I said that regardless, I would leave the server, because this was something that no one, absolutely no one, should experience. I requested for anything I contributed to the server to be removed, for I no longer felt comfortable for folks to use my art who could be the very same ones pettily using an anonymous survey to speak ill of me. So I sent my message, waited, and got a response.

I do not have anything against the server owner, but there are a few things that I must address with their response as well, because some are factually incorrect. There is full admittance to the complaints received through the anonymous survey, most recently at that. This goes counter to the rules stated that members should resolve private disputes amongst themselves first. (Again please note the screenshots of the rules.)

While perhaps not all of the mods knew of my dad’s passing, but enough DID that they should have known better. I posted briefly in the server in a slow thread so it could be better seen by people, including the mods. I had posted on tumblr as well. But the claim is no one saw it.

Again. This is just not true. Look to the above screenshots.

I do not have a screenshot of when I had sent the message initially in the server of my dad’s passing (I apologize for this), but the point being is that people knew. Another member messaged me in DMs to give their condolences. While I am and have been open about his passing, I also tried my best to not talk too much about it in the server as to bring down the mood, and I sought out the server and talked there as a source of comfort. Saying this was not clear to anyone, is false.

Now, I am sorry that I made people uncomfortable, it was never my intention to, and I will take fault in that. That isn’t what I mean to address in all this. The issue is; if people were uncomfortable, they needed to follow the rules and come to me DIRECTLY stating such, NOT give these complaints through an anonymous survey. And that I should NOT have been told during such an awful period. How can I take this at face value when I am not offered the same?

I wish to point out as well, why I kept bringing up the anonymous survey, and to bring back a note I made earlier.

There is a great deal of falsehood in using an anonymous survey to gather information, when this community has experienced a lot of hardship from anons. I have seen many people torn down and even chased out of this community and others because of people hiding behind anon. Creators, fans, and yes members, mods and even the server owner have all been victim to negativity from anons.

Now, I also must bring attention to this.

This is a screenshot I was sent of another mod posting, after I left. This is ABSOLUTELY NOT OKAY. This is why I feel the need to make this statement. Giving details like this is completely unnecessary, and with this said after I left is unacceptable.

I am sorry to be redundant, but I truly am sorry if I ever did make people uncomfortable. All I wanted to do was to make friends and share in the joy in creating art and characters with others. To share space in a community with something I truly found enjoyable. It’s why I’d get enthusiastic whenever OC’s were brought up and I’d share mine. I also wanted to share joy in the topic of the server, and yes some of that for me IS making jokes about characters or even giving critique.

I am not saying any of this to bad mouth or slander anyone. I say all of this to express my side of things. Someone who is grieving the loss of their dad, and so many others who came before him that are making me remember now because of his passing.

#si speaks #do better #I'm not tagging the community but as it was said- make your own opinions based on reading both sides #also I couldn't fit this in eloquently but the excuse of “i have asd/asd people in my family so it's not that”#is the equivalent of “I have black friends- so I'm not racist”#you can be autistic and ableist just like you can be a poc and racist- those things are not exclusive just because you're part of it #I'ma be real with yall and say the amount of ableism that comes from autistics who are on a more socially adapted part of the spectrum is 😔#and it's clear as day to me that this is part of the issue at hand here- Winndy was “too autistic” for you/people in your server

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sacredsorceress · 4 years ago

Text

Green || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

summary: three times bucky realized you were more than a friend and the one time he finally admitted it (based on events from tfatws)

a/n: finishing this in time for the season finale tomorrow! reblogs and/or replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: mentions of reader wearing a short dress, jealous bucky

masterlist || request || taglist

“Nice of you guys to call me.”

Your hands in your jacket pockets, you announced your presence as you strolled up to the group of four men standing outside of the police station. You could basically feel the tension in the air as each man had a resolute expression written on all over their faces.

“What’s going on here?” You asked, slipping your hands out of your pockets and gesturing towards the group.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked.

You might have been nicer about the situation if you weren’t utterly pissed that the two men hadn’t informed you about the mission that they had gone on.

“Incase you forgot, Sam, you’re not the only one who’s had to pick up where someone else left off. It’s my job to keep track of you guys.” You said. “... Also I’m Bucky’s emergency contact.”

“Well,” The blonde man leaning against the police cruiser said. “You’re a little late. I handled it.”

Looking up at the man in front of you, you gave him no inclination of defeat.

“You must be John Walker.” You said.

“So you’ve heard of me?” He smirked.

You crossed your arms, stepping away from the man who you had seen on television playing the role of Captain America. You had heard about the decision moments before the government had first displayed the impersonator on screen, but it had been too late for you to do anything about it or to inform Sam or Bucky in time for his appearance.

“I’ve heard of everyone.” You deadpanned.

“Yeah?” He asked, standing up straighter. “And who are you?”

Just as you were about to open your mouth, you felt Bucky’s hand land on your shoulder. Turning to glance at him, you watched as he shook his head, giving you a serious look. Despite the fact that you were now tasked with keeping track of the former members of the group of Avengers and were one yourself, you had been able to keep your identity a secret. Although to the world you were “Sorceress”- the Avenger with magical powers similar to those of Wanda Maximoff- to members of the team such as Bucky you were Y/n Y/l/n.

He didn’t trust John Walker and he didn’t want to bring you into their own mess. Although Bucky had been avoiding Sam’s text messages, Bucky had kept in constant touch with you since you first met him after he had come back from the Blip six months ago- even going as far as spending time together multiple times a week in person- not because you had to keep track of him, but because the two of you genuinely enjoyed spending time together.

You were the closest thing he had to normalcy and he didn’t want the knockoff version of his best friend messing it up not only for himself, but for you too.

However, you didn’t see much of a way out of it. You weren’t going to just leave Bucky and Sam to handle the situation on their own, but you also didn’t see a way that you could work alongside them and not have John and Lemar figure out your identity sooner or later.

Gently taking Bucky’s hand off of your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before dropping it, you reached out your hand to John Walker.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” You told him. “Sorceress... and I guess the current caretaker of the Falcon and the Winter Soldier.”

Later, after the group had dispersed and you followed Sam and Bucky as they walked in the opposite direction, you were surprised when you heard Bucky’s tone of voice when he finally spoke up again.

“You shouldn’t have given him your name, Y/n.” He said.

You shrugged, hands tucked into your pockets once again. “It’s fine, Buck.” You assured him. “There wasn’t much else I could do. He was going to find out eventually-”

“Don’t act so casual about it. This is your identity- your life- and you’re just going to share it with some asshole like John Walker?”

“Woah!” You exclaimed, stopping in your spot. “What’s your problem, Buck? Why do you care so much?”

Noticing how both you and Sam were staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to comprehend why he was making such a “big deal” about it, Bucky grew embarrassed, not understanding himself why he cared so much. Rather than admitting defeat however, Bucky threw up his hands, scoffing.

“Forget it, Y/n. I don’t care. Do what you want.”

And with that he picked up the pace, walking in the opposite direction of where you and Sam stood confused in your spots.

“I couldn’t have worn something- I don’t know- a bit longer?” You called to the three men ahead of you, following them into the club as you tugged on the hem of your short dress.

“This a club in Madripoor, Y/n.” You heard Zemo say. “If you wore anything else you would be giving us away.”

Groaning you steadied yourself in your heels following behind Zemo and Sam. You slowed your pace to walk besides Bucky who had insisted on being at the back of the line behind you- telling everyone that it would be safer for everyone if he kept their backs covered.

“How are you feeling?” You asked as quietly as you could in the loud club.

“What?” He asked.

“How are you feeling? With the while Winter Soldier thing? If you don’t think you can handle it we can find another way-”

“It’s fine, Y/n.” He said. “Don’t worry about me.”

Instead of letting it go, you gently placed your hand on his exposed, vibranium arm, causing him to stop in his spot, looking at you.

“Bucky, I’m serious.” You said. “You matter too. If you can’t handle it, I’ll find a way to get the information without all of this, okay? I care about you, Buck. Just say the word.”

He almost couldn't focus on the words coming out of your mouth as he tried to keep his eyes focused on your face, rather than trailing down your body, finally noticing just how short the dress that was adorning your body was. As good as you looked in green, he swore he would kill Zemo once he got what he needed from him for dressing you in that.

As gorgeous as you were, however, your words meant everything to him and he hung on to every single one- no matter what you were saying. Hearing the sentiment that you had for him and that you would stick your neck out for him of all people made him speechless.

Just as he was about to open his mouth however, the two of you began to feel the eyes of other partygoers staring the two of you down. As soon as you noticed, you quickly snatched your hand away from his arm and continued your pace in front of him, Bucky quickly following behind.

“Distracted?” Zemo asked as Bucky stopped beside him at the bar.

Rather than answering, Bucky remained silent, falling into character with the thought of your shared interaction still playing over and over in his mind.

Coughing on his hands and knees, trying to process what had just happened, all Bucky could hear was the obnoxious sound of the alarm blaring. When he opened his eyes again he saw the shipping container now consumed with flames and illuminated with a daunting red light. Recalling what had just occurred, he scrambled to his feet, calling out for you.

“Y/n?” He called. “Y/n!”

When he didn't immediately hear your voice, he began to feel his heart race in his chest. What if something happened to you? What if you were too close to the explosion? He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something had happened to you. Just as he was beginning to start hyperventilating, the smoke catching in his chest causing him to double over and heave, he felt your hands wrap around either of his biceps.

“Buck?” You asked. “I’m- I’m so sorry. It happened so fast I couldn’t get a forcefield around everyone. Thank God you’re okay. I was so afraid something happened-”

Cutting you off, Bucky shook your hands off of his arms, instead pulling you into his arms. Although you and the super soldier had spent more quality time than you could count together prior to starting this mission, you had never hugged before, but being in his arms you couldn’t find a single complaint, instead silently wrapping your arms tightly around his torso, running your hands up and down his back.

“Hey it’s okay, Buck. I’m okay.” You said. “Let’s go, okay? Before this thing collapses on us.”

After that the two of you had followed Sam and Sharon into the area of shipping containers, taking out hitman by hitman along the way, when you had finally gotten through all of them, you watched as Zemo pulled up in a car besides the four of you.

“Nice ride.” You said as Bucky slipped into the front seat of the vehicle, yourself sliding into one of the seats in the back row.

“Thank you, Y/n.” Zemo replied, patting Bucky on the chest. “She’s a woman of taste.”

Bucky swore to himself for the second time within the past 12 hours that when given the chance he was going to kill the man beside him- with or without his therapist’s approval.

“You’re not going to move your seat up are you?” Sam asked.

“Nope.” Bucky said.

“That’s fine.” Sam conceded. “I guess I’ll just chill back here with Y/n.”

You laughed as Sam laid his arm against headrest of the backseats of the car.

“I’m fine with that.” You said. “Just me and my favorite person.”

Now Bucky knew that you were kidding, only teasing him to get a rise out of him, but glancing at the backseat and seeing Sam’s arm practically around your shoulders and you calling him your favorite person... just didn’t sit right with Bucky. Just as Zemo’s foot was about to hit the gas, Bucky shifted the car into park, swinging the door open and stepping out of the vehicle.

“What-”

“You can have the front.” Bucky said, swinging Sam’s door open.

“It’s really okay, Buck-”

“You said you wanted more space so you can have the front.” He said. “Go sit in the front.”

You watched as Sam turned to you, quirking his eyebrows before shrugging and stepping out of the car, switching to the passenger seat. You almost wanted to laugh as you watched Bucky squeeze into the backseat behind the passenger seat, his knees practically up against his chest.

“You good?” You asked.

Despite the groan that had involuntarily escaped his mouth from the discomfort of the front seat digging into his knees, Bucky nodded, stretching his arm out across the backseat, behind your shoulders.

“I’m great.” He assured you. “Now drive, Zemo.”

Although you didn’t catch it, the two men sitting in the front seat- despite their differences- couldn’t help but throw each other a knowing look before the car took off for their next destination.

“Hey!” Torres called. “I see you got your sleeve back!”

You chuckled as you turned to glance at the man stood beside you. Despite it being a joke, not a single hint of a smile cracked the man’s hard exterior. The only reason he didn’t walk out of the room on the spot was because you were standing beside him.

“He’s just in a bad mood today.” You said, reaching your hand out to shake Torres’. “I’m Y/n.”

Taking your hand and shaking it in his, he furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you doing hanging around these guys?” He asked. “...Not that you can’t handle yourself! Sam just won’t even invite me on these things.”

Pulling your hand away from his, you smiled. “Think you can keep a secret?”

As soon as you asked the question you watched as the confusion written all over his face grew even more and you could hear Sam chuckling in the background.

“I’m Sorceress.” You said. “Like the Avenger? I just try to keep my identity pretty secret, you know?”

As soon as you revealed your identity to him, you watched as the man’s face dropped and he turned to look at Sam who was standing behind him.

“Wait- she’s-” Torres stuttered.

Sam nodded, laughing.

“Yep.” Sam said. “She’s the one you’ve been hounding me about setting you up with.”

Although you weren’t paying attention to him, Bucky had already disliked how the conversation was going- finding Torres to be a little too friendly for his liking and not loving that you exposed your identity to him immediately- but when he heard Sam’s confession, he stiffened in his spot, hands balling into fists at his side.

“What? Dude!” Torres exclaimed, glancing back and forth between you and Sam before finally turning back to you, chuckling nervously. “He's just kidding! I would never have a crush on you- wait! That came out wrong! Not that you’re not pretty because you are- I just think you’re cool-”

You continued laughing as the man stumbling over his words in front of you, finding it endearing until you heard the super soldier scoff beside you. You glanced at him only to see him cross his arms while rolling his eyes before making his way out of the room.

Turning back to Torres you gave him a quick smile, pulling a card out of your pocket. “I have to go, but it was nice to meet you Torres. If these boys get in trouble again, make sure to call me first thing, okay?”

He took the card from your hand, nodding. “Uh yeah- yeah! Of course!”

With that you waved to both him and Sam before following the path Bucky had taken out of the room seconds before.

Seeing his figure pacing across the room, you threw your arms up in the air.

“What’s your problem?” You asked.

Stopping in his spot he turned to face you.

“What?” He said. “I don’t have a problem.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, crossing your arms.

“Uh yeah. You do.” You said. “Did I do something to piss you off or something? Are you mad at me for coming on the mission? Because I’m sorry if I wanted to help save the world and make sure you guys didn’t get killed in the process.”

Bucky just stopped and stared at you standing across from him with your arms crossed. He hated to admit it, but you look pissed at him. It hurt knowing that you were upset with him, but it hurt a little more knowing that you felt as though he was mad at you when in actuality that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Y/n.” He said, stepping closer to you. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Then why did you just storm out of the room?” You asked.

He couldn’t think of a reason besides the truth. He could lie and say that he was mad at you, but that wouldn’t solve the situation for anyone and could possibly strain your relationship farther- and that was the last thing he could possibly want.

The two of you stood there in silence, staring at one another as Bucky attempted to find the words in his head to ease your concern without exposing himself in the process.

But you were never one to back down with him.

“Bucky,” You said. “What’s the problem? What did I do? Why are you so angry-”

“Because I don’t like the way that guy was talking to you!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.

“What?” You asked. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky realized he was in it now. He couldn’t see a way out of it.

For the past week, Bucky couldn’t help but notice that he cared for you a bit more than friends should. Maybe he always did. He thought back to the times he would eagerly await your weekly lunches or the comfort he felt when you took him furniture shopping after seeing his empty apartment for the first time. He thought back to the times you would show up outside of his door when he was upset because you were the only person he trusted there with him in those intimate moments- he knew that you were more than just his colleague, but he realized now that you were more than his friend.

Recently it became more obvious, the burning in his chest he felt when others became a little too comfortable with you- he attempted to mask it with just wanting to protect you, but he knew you could handle yourself. He was protective over you so he wouldn’t lose you.

Just when you opened your mouth to speak again, he cupped your face in his hands. He watched as your eyes widened, but didn’t make any move to stop him. When he caught your eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips, he pulled you towards him, meeting your lips in the middle.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t kissed anyone in eighty years, but he had never felt the way he had in that moment before. He was so utterly consumed in you- the feeling of your hands reaching for his jacket, tugging him closer as you deepened the kiss, your soft lips against his, your warm breath against his face- he was lost in it.

When you finally pulled away, he didn’t want to let go, but leaned back anyway, staring at his world- you- that he now held in his hands.

“Buck...”

“I think I like you more than a friend.” He confessed.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face at his words. You had always cared for Bucky as more than just your former fellow Avenger, but knowing that he felt the same as you was something you could hardly believe.

“I think I do too.” You laughed, then recalled what you had come in there for in the first place. “James, were you... were you jealous?”

Thinking back over the past week the two of you had spent together on the mission, he could almost laugh at the question you had just asked.

“You’re joking, right?” He chuckled. “Yeah. You could say I was a little bit jealous.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #Bucky Barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes angst

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 I || professor!helmut zemo x reader

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : history is so much more interesting when he’s teaching it. you’d better be careful before the two of you end up with a history of your own.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 6k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (incl. semi-public sex in an office and oral f receiving), significant age gap (reader is 20, zemo is 39; it isn’t actually mentioned though but it comes up in the next part), the slightest bit of angst?, nearly pwp at this point lol

You wouldn’t know it by the way you were enraptured with his lecture, but you weren’t even a history major.

Quite far from it, really, well outside of the college of liberal arts, and yet here you were in the front row, watching him gesture over a large map of Western Europe while he explained the sociocultural impacts of the Treaty of Versailles.

It was probably pretty obvious why you took such interest in all this, though. After all, you were the only one who dressed as well as he did, your blazers and skirts and loafers standing out amongst a sea of hoodies and sweats and flip-flops; and, you were the only one who paid close attention and yet never seemed to be taking any notes…

Why would you, after all? Looking away to write in your notebook would mean missing out on all the fun, and unfortunately you had found that when you copied down the words he spoke, his accent was not retained in writing.

Some kid in the back of the class had asked about his accent the first day; you thought it was kind of a rude question, if you were being honest, but he didn’t seem to mind too much (if perhaps a bit surprised that anyone cared). He explained he was from a small country called Sokovia, but that his accent was a bit unique since he spoke Russian, German, Spanish, and Italian as well.

Because of course he did. Like he was specifically designed to target all your weaknesses.

“Well, I could talk about that for the rest of the evening but I’ll spare you all and let you out a bit early today, how does that sound?” Professor Zemo offered. The other students weakly cheered, a few claps here and there as you heard binders shutting and backpacks being zipped, but you were disappointed. You didn’t want to go back to your dorm, all you were going to do there was think about him anyways.

Damn, I’ve really got it bad, you thought to yourself, shaking your head as you stood up and gathering your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You glanced up at the podium where another student was chatting with Professor Zemo, and either he said something really funny or she was trying way too hard to flirt with him. You rolled your eyes, irritated by the display and yet envious of her audacity to just go up there and talk to him. Imagine having a crush and actually being able to look them in the eye and hold a conversation; you could barely do that with people you didn’t happen to find attractive.

Just as you were about to make it out the door, you heard your name and spun around. You were shocked to realize it was the Professor trying to get your attention. If only you’d thought to pretend you hadn’t heard him.

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” he requested, motioning you over with two curled fingers. With a swallow and a nod, you stepped out of the flow of students exiting into the hallway and approached the desk at the front of the room.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I just wanted to discuss your most recent paper, if you have some time,” he explained, and your heart sunk. Of course it was garbage, you’d written the whole thing last minute during a near-all-nighter. “I still have the copy you turned in here in my bag.”

“Right, of course— sure,” you nodded. By now the classroom was empty spare for the two of you, your words echoing slightly; presumably that was intentional, since these places were built for acoustics, but it made you worry you’d have to hear whatever criticism he had for you multiple times.

He pulled out the slightly-wrinkled paper and took his glasses off of his vest to wear (fuck, did he have to wear the glasses, just to personally attack you?) as he glanced over the top page before folding it over the staple.

“This essay,” he continued, “it’s—”

Ridiculous. Idiotic. A blight on humanity and a waste of printer ink.

“Fascinating,” he finished, surprising you. “After I read it, I searched your student profile on my office computer—”

You gulped, trying not to take that as a compliment.

“I’m looking at your information and I’m seeing you aren’t even a history major— is this a mistake, when it says your major is computer science?”

“No, that’s my major,” you nodded.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he decided, “because you have some really interesting ideas in here, clearly you must have studied history before.”

“I mean, not really,” you shrugged. “I didn’t even care that much about history until, you know, you...r class,” you finished quickly, realizing it sounded too odd otherwise.

And that smile, the way he looked down at the floor suddenly, was he blushing? “Thank you. I’m always… glad to inspire.”

If only you knew everything you’d inspired in me, Professor.

“If you didn’t care about history, what would motivate you to register for an honors history seminar?” he asked suddenly.

“Well…” you trailed off, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck as you dodged his gaze.

“It couldn’t possibly be because I’m teaching it,” he realized.

“I came to your talk last year, the one you did about the Sokovian civil war,” you finally admitted, letting out a lungful of air as you said it and looking up at him sheepishly.

“Ah,” he nodded, “yes, that might make a bit more sense. But we still haven’t found the real reason, have we?” His eyebrow raised slightly and you felt like he was toying with you— but you liked it, the shiver that ran up your spine made that obvious. “Because the question remains of what would possess a computer science student to take time out of her busy schedule on a Friday night— if I recall the night correctly— to listen to some stuffy visiting scholar talk about a bloody war in a country she may not have even heard of before.”

“My friend brought me,” you defended.

“Under what guise?” he pressed.

“She… may have mentioned something about… a cute professor with a sexy accent…” you stammered, cringing slightly as you spared a glance back up at him. He was staring back at you with the most bewildering expression. His eyes said ‘you thought I was cute?’, and yet his smile said ‘I knew it.’

“You must’ve been horribly disappointed when I took the stage,” he finally replied, voice a bit lower, softer, not echoing around the room anymore.

“Not at all,” you returned, almost below your breath now, and suddenly you became very aware that you were standing too close to him, but you couldn’t move away, you couldn’t even look away anymore. “I’m here, aren’t I? Taking your class?”

“And you make it nearly impossible to focus, did you know that? I swear your eyes never leave me, I can feel them on me. It’s quite unfair, because I can’t stare back at you no matter how much I want to.”

Just as you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes, which seemed to be following a similar pattern on your own face, just when you thought this might be it and you were about to do something you really shouldn’t (but really wanted to), you heard the door open behind you and you spun around so fast you nearly hurt your neck.

“Oh,” the man in the doorway mumbled, apparently surprised to see you enough to nearly drop the papers tucked under his arm. “I’m teaching the next class in here— Honors History of Islam?��

“Professor Waters, yes, my apologies,” Zemo nodded, “we were just… our discussion ran a bit long, we’ll get out of your way.”

You and Zemo awkwardly gathered your things and made a dash for the door as the older professor took his place at the podium. Once the two of you were out in the hall, you let out a sigh and gave each other a glance, like you were each waiting for the other to either acknowledge or ignore what had just (almost) happened.

“I have my next class across campus in a half hour,” he remembered suddenly, lifting his arm and pulling back the brown sleeve of his coat to look at his watch.

“Right, you should… get to that,” you nodded.

“Walk with me?” he proposed, and you hoped your smile wasn’t as beaming as it felt.

“I’d love to.”

So maybe you ended up skipping your evening class to sit in the back of his History of England course. And, perhaps, he ended that one early, too, this time to buy you coffee at the student center; and your discussion ended up going on so long that the coffee shop closed and you had to go to his office to finish the conversation.

But, in a certain sense, it could be argued that you never really got a chance to finish that conversation after all… because a few moments after he shut the door to his office, you, for lack of a better term, jumped his bones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips as you pulled him closer by his jacket, “we can’t do this.”

You nodded, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “Mhm, yeah, you’re right,” you agreed breathlessly.

His hands took their place at your waist as you both stepped back, the back of your legs bumping into his desk which you jumped up slightly to sit on.

“I mean, we really can’t do this,” he continued, kissing your neck instead now while your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt riding up slightly, your fingers fumbling with the buttons on his collar. “I want to, overwhelmingly so, but we can’t.”

“I know,” you sighed; your head fell back when his teeth grazed over your pulse, and his hand was right there to catch it and hold it up, gripping the back of your neck.

“This absolutely cannot happen,” he groaned when your legs pulled him closer, something hard and hot pressing up against your thigh through his trousers and you were really hoping it wasn’t just his cell phone.

Then he rocked his hips, just barely, and you felt the outline of the ridge of his head and it was definitely not his phone unless he had the most suggestively-shaped phone case of all time. You gasped and grabbed his face to kiss him again, shamelessly desperate now, weaving your fingers into the hair just above the back of his neck.

By now you had managed to get a few of his buttons open so when you slid your fingers down from time to time, they ran over his chest and the patch of dark blonde hair there. Funny enough, you couldn’t remember having any strong opinions on chest hair before this afternoon, but now you felt your walls fluttering around nothing.

He helped you shed your blazer just before tossing his own coat aside, never breaking the kiss, holding your face gently while he pushed you down to lay on his desk— he reached behind you to clear a few stray papers out of the way first.

Your back hit the glossy wood and his weight pinned you down, rough hands sliding up your legs and under your skirt as you tried to push your hips up for more friction where you needed him most.

He pushed your hips back down, not too roughly but definitely enough to get your attention, before sliding his hands up your skirt again where he toyed with the hem of your panties.

You wanted to say something, more specifically you wanted to beg him to touch you, but you had this fear that if you spoke now it would all become real and he would stop because, as he had so poignantly noted, this can’t happen. And both of you knew that… so maybe it would be easier to let it happen if neither of you really acknowledged it.

Luckily, he didn’t tease you too long, reaching under the fabric and swiping the rough pads of his fingers over your slickened folds. You choked on your gasp, accidentally digging your nails into his shoulders when he drew delicate circles around your clit. All at once, he suddenly pushed those fingers right inside you and your back arched; you needed so much more than just his fingers but the way they twisted and curled against your walls was nearly perfect as well.

They didn’t stay long, quickly pulling back as you watched him quickly open his trousers just before you felt the head of him pushing up to your entrance.

His eyes met yours, dark with need, yet somehow clearly asking you for permission, making sure this was what you wanted: and fuck, you wanted it more than anything. The moment that you nodded, he began to push forward— slow and deliberate, but unyielding.

Perhaps as a perfect healthy college student in a male-dominated major, you had no real excuse for it to have been so long since you’d had sex. As you liked to put it: dating as a woman in computer science means the odds are good but the goods are odd. Truth be told, you weren’t sure at this point if having had sex any time in the past year would’ve prepared you for him anyway. It felt like he was forging a new path inside you— certainly a wider one than anyone else ever had since he was so thick.

With his hips fully seated against yours, the tip of his cock just reached the end of you, just barely brushed over those sensitive spots you didn’t even know you had before.

It stung a bit to be filled this thoroughly, so it was no wonder you were biting down on your lip hard enough to bruise it, your fingers clutching at his shirt tightly.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered, finally breaking the silence, voice strained like he was struggling just as much as you were (though in an entirely different way).

“A little,” you admitted. “Please don’t stop.”

He groaned a few curses as he started to move back, and forth, and so slow you could hardly stand it.

“Fuck,” you breathed, “oh my god, harder, please…”

A little smile crossed his face, a sharp exhale almost like a laugh, and it made your cheeks burn even hotter than they already were. But, he obeyed, regardless, more aggressive in his movements yet not any faster as he held your hips to keep you from sliding across the desk’s glossy wood surface.

Your moans were starting to echo around the office’s beige walls at this point, and he snarled as he bit down on your neck. “You need to stay quiet,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me? Can you stay quiet even when I’m making you feel so good?”

“I-I’m trying,” you whimpered, “your cock is… so deep…”

“Oh, I know,” he cooed, voice heavy with faux pity, “poor thing, you can’t take it?”

“No!” you yelped. “I can take it! Please, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t have to if you stay quiet, darling, we can’t have somebody hearing you now can we?” he chuckled, licking and sucking at your pulse point as your eyes rolled back in your head. “We can’t have somebody hearing you cry for me, and coming in here, and seeing you laying on my desk getting fucked by your professor, right?”

What the hell was wrong with you that that idea actually turned you on? Why did it actually make you want to moan louder until everyone could hear you?

And when his cock speared right against that spongy spot inside you, you did exactly that and he had to suddenly clamp his hand down over your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, “you’re going to get us both in trouble.”

Your attempts at apologies were totally incomprehensible with his hand over your mouth, not that they were likely to have made much sense either way.

Blinking your eyes shut, your legs began to quiver slightly as he rutted into you, your toes curling inside your loafers. You felt so full you could hardly stand it, stretched so wide that you were forced to feel every detail of his cock as it filled you. Already your walls were bearing down on him; you couldn’t help it, it was like your body was just his instrument now and instinct had taken control of your movements.

His accent was definitely stronger now as he whispered in your ear, praising you gruffly. You knew from the beginning that you loved high marks and encouragement from your teachers, but this… this was different, and you hadn't known how much it would affect you.

"Good girl," he breathed, "you're taking me so well, draga, you feel so perfect around me."

You whined from behind his hand and he chuckled at your obvious neediness.

"You like making me feel good, darling?" he presumed, his smile pressing against your neck between nipping kisses to your pulse point. "You like knowing that I can barely take this tight cunt gripping me so well, that I'm already addicted to your precious body and want to fill it with my seed?"

With your eyes rolling back in your head you nodded feverishly, heavy in your state of total delirium as he pumped his cock deep into you over and over.

You reached up to try to pull his hand away from your mouth, and he met your gaze with fire in his eyes.

“If I take my hand away, will you be good?” he challenged, and you nodded feverishly. He was a bit hesitant but slowly moved his hand down, and though you did have to keep biting your lip, you managed to restrain yourself.

Every drag of the ridge of his head inside you was somehow more intense than the last, somehow hitting right at your spot and it was like each rough thrust knocked his name out of your mind and onto your lips until you were chanting it like a prayer, or a plea.

And each time you said it, he fucked you harder, snarling and whispering your name back to you a few times, in between little praises; "Beautiful," he mumbled, "such a sweet little girl… such a perfect cunt."

“I— fuck, I’m gonna—” you stammered your warning.

“Will you come for me?” he finished for you, and you nodded quickly.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you hissed.

It was obvious just by the build-up that you were going to come hard, pleasure tightening in your core until you were sure that it would spill over but it just kept going, making you wonder if it would ever reach the breaking point.

And oh boy did it, it slammed into you in fact, and your legs quivered as you struggled for air. He growled in your ear, fucking you harder through it all, stroking every place that had only become even more sensitive. The moment you could form words again, you were wasting the ability on a string of swears and promises you couldn’t keep.

“Yours, fuck, it’s yours,” you sobbed. He chuckled a little, pulling back to examine your face which must have given away how fucked-out and cockdrunk you were already.

“Say it again,” he demanded darkly, holding you tighter, fucking you a bit more deliberately though not any less aggressively.

“Yours,” you gasped, cut off by a rough and dominating kiss. Your moans were lost to his tongue but he didn’t need them to know you were coming, the way your body gripped him tighter than ever was sign enough.

“So good,” he whispered against your lips, “you’re doing so good for me…”

His words washed over your skin and soothed you like a salve, bringing some relief from the overwhelming feelings his body was assaulting yours with.

All things considered, he was still moving rather slowly, each of his thrusts measured and patient, and never really changing speed even as you were coming around him. Weak little cries fell from your throat each time his hips met yours and the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of you.

Your body went limp in his arms and you hadn't noticed before how good it felt for him to hold you, for his strong hands to support you like it was nothing. His thumb gently stroked your back through your shirt and you mewled weakly into his shoulder.

"So good, draga, so fucking good," he mumbled, holding you closer.

"Please… faster," you whimpered, "I want you to come."

"Is that what you want?" he taunted, ignoring the way you nodded immediately. "You want to make me come, darling?"

"Yes, please, want it so much," you gasped.

He finally sped up, though it was still nothing like the lightning-speed jackhammering you were used to from guys your age: it was better, certainly, especially when he lifted your leg onto his shoulder and pushed so deep you saw stars.

The second one seemed to hit you all at once, almost out of nowhere, and you heard yourself mumble, “Professor, I’m coming.” It sounded a bit pitiful, the way you said it, but he apparently didn’t mind as you felt him nod encouragingly in the crook of your neck.

You felt totally drained by now, exhausted even though all you’d been doing was lying there and taking it, but you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. But, if the way his thrusts were becoming more desperate and erratic were anything to go by, he might be done with you soon.

"I'm going to come inside you," he groaned against your ear. You were, like, 99.9% sure that if you told him not to, he would pull out, but the way that he phrased it, like a demand, like you didn't have a choice and he would do it either way… it had an effect on you, one he noticed when your channel tightened around him instantly. "Oh, you like that idea, hm? You want to be full of my come? Your sweet little cunt is already trying to milk every drop from me."

"Yes," you breathed, "fuck, I want your come in me, please!"

He sped up quite a bit then, each slam of his hips into yours making you choke on a whine, your arms weakly clinging onto him for dear life.

You could feel his cock swelling, flexing, pushing your body to its limits as he moaned lowly through his teeth, streams of come making you feel warm and full.

He didn't stop until every drop was in you, thrusting in time with each pump of his release until he slowed to a stop.

Strands of hair fell into his face as he hung his head, panting hard and fast. You melted back onto the desk, realizing this might be the first time in a solid half hour your back wasn’t arched.

It was a bit of a struggle to keep your eyes open against the heavy fog of afterglow that filled your mind; you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so… satiated. As a college student, you were always thinking about the next assignment, mentally re-evaluating your calendar, or preparing for something— and usually all on less than six hours of sleep.

But now your mind was as close to a blank slate as it had been in at least a decade. Even though you probably should’ve been, you weren’t even thinking about the potential consequences of this, the implications, the risks. No, you were just staring up at him, thinking about kissing him again.

He would have to lean down for that, though; there was no way you were going to sit up now.

You hadn't even noticed that you had closed your eyes, almost falling asleep right there on his desk, until you felt his hand cradle your face softly, a calloused thumb rubbing over your cheek.

In unison, the both of you sighed deeply.

As much as it felt like a real effort, you blinked open your eyes and looked up at him, watching him comb his fingers through his hair. It only messed up the style even further yet he looked better than ever.

He slowly moved his hips back, leaving you annoyingly empty, and readjusted himself until he almost looked put together again… but his collar was still uneven and his lips still looked bitten and there was still that precious pinkish hue on his cheeks. If anyone else saw him in this state, they’d either know what happened between you two or think he’d just run across campus or something.

If anyone else saw him in this state, you’d be a little jealous, to be totally honest.

You got back to work trying to right your appearance as well, though you knew the best you could hope for was only mildly presentable; he looked at you like you’d never looked better, though.

“Well, this was fun,” you chuckled breathlessly, “but it’s getting pretty late and I have an eight a.m. tomorrow…”

“Yeah, so do I,” he nodded, glancing away.

You picked up your bag from where you’d dropped it by the door, lifting the strap over your shoulder and starting to turn to leave.

"I… I should walk you back to your dorm," he announced, making you smile.

"That's sweet, but save your chivalry. I can take care of myself just fine."

"But—"

"I think it's safer if we're not seen together walking together by my dorm," you interjected, "especially when I'm walking a little funny…"

"I hope I didn't hurt you," he winced sympathetically.

"No, trust me, that was… exactly what I needed," you breathed. He smiled a little, looking down at the floor.

"Then I'll see you in class," he nodded, watching you closely as you stepped back and picked up your bag, starting to leave his office with one last small wave goodbye. “Wait, wait!” he whispered harshly just before you could let go of his door, and you giggled as he leaned out into the hall and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.

When he confirmed the coast was clear, he smiled and grabbed your face with one hand, pulling you into a sudden kiss. And you smiled too— you couldn’t help it— as you kissed him back, almost ready for him to drag you back into that office and start this all over again. He did let you go, though, with one more whispered ‘goodnight’ and a look that made your heart do little somersaults.

As you finally did make your way back to your dorm, you tried to figure out if that was a goodbye kiss or a ‘see you soon’ kiss. Or maybe a ‘thanks for the one-time office quickie’ kiss? But you didn’t know enough about this sort of thing to know if that was even an option.

All you did know was that you really hoped it wasn’t the last kiss you’d have with him.

Can I speak to you in my office today after class? Thank you.

-Z

You may ask yourself: can one simple email, in only thirteen words, strike fear into the hearts of those who read it? And the answer is yes, assuming that email is from Professor Helmut Zemo and read by the lovestruck student who slept with him two days ago and hasn't stopped thinking about it since.

Only one of a few things could happen in his office after class, and there was a massive gap between the best and worst case scenarios. You dressed for the best but prepared yourself psychologically for the worst.

You caught him staring as you walked past the teaching podium to your seat in the front; you just hoped nobody else caught him. And if you'd thought paying attention in class was tough before, boy oh boy was it a challenge now. The nerves of what he wanted to discuss with you were bad enough alone, but that combined with memories from two days earlier randomly assaulting your psyche was just overwhelming.

When he pointed at the map with two fingers, you could remember exactly how those fingers had felt inside you, twisting and curling and getting you ready for his cock.

When he spoke, you could hear the difference in his voice compared to how he groaned out his praises while he was fucking you within a damn inch of your life.

And every once in a while, when he couldn’t help but glance at you for a moment, his gaze burned right through you; you were helpless to those brown eyes, completely paralyzed by them, and it must’ve been hours of that before class finally ended.

For the first time, you were the first person out the door when he released the class. As much as it was going to be a little bit weird to beat him to his office, it was certainly better than any of your other options. There was a chair in the hall beside the door, and you took a seat and pretended to read a book just to look busy (there was no way you could actually turn symbols on a page into readable language right now, not when you knew he’d be here any minute to talk about… something).

Your peripheral caught him coming down the hall, but you pretended to be deeply immersed in your book until he was right beside you, unlocking his door and opening it for you and himself. Tucking your book away and following him inside, you found him already staring at you, expression completely unreadable. Your gut sank in anticipation of whatever conversation this was going to become, and a moment passed in heavy silence.

"Hi," you greeted plainly, letting out a quick breath.

"Hi," he returned. "Close the door behind you."

You nodded and did as you were told, quietly pushing the wood back until the door latched before approaching where he had come to stand beside his desk. Though you didn't originally intend to, you found yourself standing a bit too close.

"I'm not quite sure where to start," he admitted, chuckling breathlessly as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. He looked cute flustered, which was a shame because his tone seemed to imply you needed to not be thinking about how cute he was. “Listen, you should know that what happened before… it was a mistake,” he sighed. “It can’t happen again.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked point-blank.

“It can’t happen again,” he repeated in lieu of a real answer, and you looked closely at his face; you didn’t find as much confidence there as you were looking for, it wasn’t the face of a man who knew he was making the right choice. You certainly didn’t think he was making the right choice.

“Why did you want to have this conversation alone in your office, then?” you challenged.

He cleared his throat slightly. “So no one would hear us.”

“Hear us talk?” you pressed. “Is that all?”

“That’s… definitely the plan,” he nodded, swallowing dryly. "Like I said, it was a mistake— my fault, not yours. And I just hope we can put it behind us respectfully."

“All the best mistakes are made at least twice,” you whispered, reaching up to trail your finger down his lapel. “Don’t you think?”

“Don’t do that,” he requested tensely.

"Do what?"

"That," he hissed. "Stop being… irresistible," he clarified, eyes darting from your lips to your finger to your eyes and back again. "A man can only take so much. I'm trying to do right by you."

"You already did when you fucked me that good," you smirked. "Nothing else could be as right as that."

Your fingers were just barely brushing over his belt when he grabbed you by the wrist. Jaw tight and eyes solemn, he shook his head.

You wrenched out of his grasp with a nod. It was worth a shot, but you didn't want to be that person who couldn't take no for an answer— so, you gave him a little smile and readjusted the strap of your bag. “Well, if it was just the once, then you should know that I’m still glad it happened. Even if it shouldn’t have.”

He nodded, strategically not speaking— but you knew he would agree, if he could.

“And if it’s any consolation to you now, you were the best I ever had.”

You reached for the doorknob, just starting to turn it and open your way out when he suddenly slammed it shut with a hand right above your head, making you gasp and spin around to look up at his dark gaze.

“Professor…” you whispered.

“The best you ever had?” he repeated, grinning proudly when you nodded. “Oh, sweetheart, I wasn’t even trying.” He leaned down to brush his lips against your ear as he whispered to you: “You don’t even know yet how good I can make you feel.”

A shiver ran up your spine; your tongue darted out to lick your lips. “Are you going to get on with it and show me?”

He didn’t even let you step away from the door, dropping to his knees right there and pushing up your skirt to kiss and bite your thighs. “Only if you ask very nicely,” he taunted with a brow raised in challenge.

“Please,” you breathed, “fuck, please, want you to taste me.”

His hands slid up your legs, grabbing the hem of your panties before sliding back down.

It wasn’t like you’d never been eaten out before, but this still felt like a first considering your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties were pulled down to your ankles, and even just one slow lick over your folds made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing.

“F-fuck,” you choked, reaching down to weave your fingers into his hair. He grinned against your skin and kept going, exploring you carefully before finally sucking on your swollen clit. Your knees threatened to buckle, your head fell back against the door so hard it almost hurt, but all you could really feel was his mouth on you, moving like he knew your body better than you did.

So it was no wonder, then, that you already began to spiral towards your release, legs shaking around his head as he devoured you mercilessly.

"Oh my god, I—" you tried to warn him, but he already knew, and he pulled back to wipe his mouth with his sleeve and stand up. He grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, stopping to whisper to you so close that his lips brushed against yours.

"I'm sorry, draga, but you've spoiled me… now that I've felt you come around my cock, I can't imagine making you come any other way. I need to feel your cunt grip me so fucking tight… it's all I've been thinking about since I last saw you," he admitted.

"I thought about it, too," you sighed. "I was up all night trying to make myself come as good as you did but I couldn't… your come was still leaking out of me."

He growled and leaned in to nip at your ear. "Oh, poor thing… I can imagine it so easily, you laying in your bed with your legs spread, fingers getting exhausted from playing with your little pussy too much, these perfect lips whining for me because you need me to take care of you."

"H-Helmut, please," you whimpered.

"Yeah, something like that," he smirked.

"I can't wait any more, just fuck me. Need you inside me," you breathed.

"Then bend over my desk."

{part 2}

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut

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