#and it was my fault because i refuse to allow myself needs or accept help while i take care of everything in their life that i can get my

[phantomluck]

what if I started posting my "I broke my own heart" recipes on here. Would you guys find me cute and quirky or just pathetic?

[cthulhus-curse]

Neighborly Support

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 5,241

Warnings: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Blood, Darkfic, Jealousy, Minor Character Death, Mommy Kink, Murder, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Smut, Somnophilia, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, Wanda goes ballistic with an ax that’s all you really need to know, this is a formal apology to Nat and Maria my babies ily btw, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: You hadn’t looked back ever since you moved away from Westview, but an offer for dinner with the neighbors draws you back in just for you to fall once again for one Wanda Maximoff. Only this time you get more than you bargained for.

Family dinners were never something you looked forward to. Living in the city gave you the freedom to decline them, to come up with whatever excuse you could muster in a matter of seconds and get out of them. Although your parent’s house was less than an hour away, you had been able to avoid any reunions in months. You loved them, you really did, but the grievances they threw at you for living so far away, for not surrounding yourself with those who loved you and instead drowning yourself in work after having graduated college were far too much for you to deal with. 

Well, that was until you didn’t allow yourself to escape the tight grasp a family dinner had on you. Especially not once your mother called you to let you know a neighbor would be joining you – Wanda Maximoff. 

During your college years you had gotten to merely see her from far away. She had recently moved in once you were a freshman. Although you lived away from your family in that period of your life, you were thrilled to return home for breaks and within whatever free time you could find. Seeing Wanda waltzing around the neighborhood and small town of Westview was only a bonus. 

She had two kids and although the entirety of the population seemed to despise her, she was still a high-standing citizen – president of the PTA, a devoted housewife, and the true image of perfection in the familial sense. Her family was her life, twins being the light in Wanda’s dark days while her husband, Vision, was kind without a fault. 

As soon as your mother let it slip through the phone that Wanda and her family would be joining your family dinner, you accepted. 

Returning home was always a bittersweet moment. You dreaded the way in which your parents would bombard you with pleas to move back for the sole purpose of helping your father’s plumbing business. It’s what your brother had done, but then again, Tony had always been the favorite. They weren’t too fond of you running around an alien city by yourself. Control had always been something you sought, especially from your family, and yet that all changed as you sat across the table from your neighbor. 

It didn’t surprise you to see the red hair still sitting only centimeters from her shoulders. Wanda had never dared change her appearance. She always kept her mane short enough to give off the appearance of a truly devoted mother, her outfits mirroring that very same image. At times you had seen her wear small buns in the past, her hair entirely up as she tended to her flowers in the front yard as you watched from the second-floor window in your room. As wrong as you knew it to be, you always had difficulty tearing your eyes away from the older woman. 

Sitting back and relaxing, you listened on to the neighbor. 

“I’ve never met a pair of more imcompetent individuals in my life. Can you believe they didn’t want to give me what I purchased? I spent almost an hour trying to explain myself so it would get through the manager’s thick skull,” Wanda huffed, shaking her head as she took another bite of the pasta your parents had crafted. “It was all in the receipt too. I never got what I ordered. My poor boys had to share their food because I refused to give that wretched place a single extra cent. Idiots.”

One of the reasons why she was so infamous along the town was her propensity to forever be right. Wanda was nothing if not a confident woman who lacked self-awareness or even a smidge of care for those around her except her children – at times her husband. She could never find it in her to be wrong. The controlling nature which she exuded across the table, her twin boys sitting by one of her sides as Vision took the other, was one that spoke to you. Perhaps you’d give her off all the control if only she asked. 

Dinner went on without any major issues. Given the presence of what your brother deemed as strangers, your parents never spoke about your life in the city. Instead they chatted highly of you and Tony to the Maximoffs, prompting Wanda to spare you glances here and there that she never gave your brother. For a moment your eyes even came in contact with her own. You swore that green forest that lay beneath them could swallow you whole unprompted. And you’d, of course, let it. 

Towards the end of it your face was hot and red. You had to excuse yourself before the neighbors left, mumbling something about how your head was throbbing with pain given the long drive – a lie – and that you would be slithering into your old bedroom and sleeping until the morning – another lie. 

As though you had counted your stars, after having washed your dirty dishes, Wanda rose to her feet and left for the bathroom. Walking in the same direction, the halls empty all across from you as the woman skidded behind you, making you attempt to swallow the knot in your throat and ignore her. Both were failed exercises when strong arms grabbed you roughly and pushed you against the nearest wall. Given how far away you were from the dining room, you were lucky no one else heard your whimper as twinkling viridescent orbs shot through your soul. 

“I don’t think you have a clue of how long I’ve been waiting for this,” Wanda husked out, her voice low and dangerous in a manner you had yet to witness before. Her head was tilted as she dug her nails deep into your shoulders. “I have done all the things a wife is supposed to do. House. Kids. The meals.” Each little word she mumbled, leg drifting up to press her knee where you were already dripping, made you shudder. “I’m very attracted to you. Would you be interested in having an affair?”

As difficult as it was to breathe in that moment, there came no hesitation when you nodded and mustered out a small ‘yes’. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Wanda was unfiltered, you quickly learned. Whatever she said, she meant. Perhaps it should’ve driven you away when she first casually suggested the taboo arrangement, and yet you found yourself doing as she said. She carried all of the control you had slowly collected when moving away simply to hold it all over your head and make you hers with it. 

Sneaking around was always a rather difficult issue to resolve. At first all you had were little moments where Wanda pressed her body against yours while your back touched the back of her front door. Her lips were the ones to take all the power, dancing over your own and being led around without putting up a fight. She was devouring you with all she had. Taking claim of what she deemed as rightfully hers ever since she saw you for the first time years before. 

What wasn’t difficult was when she made excuses to visit you in the city. Vision would never dare question his wife. At times you felt bad for him, bad for the fact that you took advantage of the kindness he always offered to secretly rub it in his face and be with his wife. It’s not like Wanda cared though. So long as she brushed it off, you didn’t deem it as a problem. 

The first time the two of you got longer than twenty minutes together in secrecy was when your parents took a day trip to the beach along with your younger brother. You were left alone prancing across the house, phone in hand as you quickly shot off a text to Wanda. The excitement you felt was indescribable. Never had you gotten such a thrill with any of your past partners. Wanda was truly one of a kind. 

When she arrived all serene and calm, her head held up high, the redhead didn’t waste time shooting off orders. “Bedroom, now. Take off your clothes, fold them neatly, and lay on the bed. Don’t you dare do anything else unless I give you permission. Am I clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” came the automatic response.

You were the well-behaved pet that Wanda had never gotten to play with. She could use you however she wanted. Her deeply sick and twisted mind ran rampant given all the ideas she carried along. Perhaps she could give you a cute collar to tug at with a leash, or maybe a muzzle to keep your needy whimpers at bay as she used and abused all of your holes. She could use several toys to correct any behavior needed. The possibilities were endless. 

Wanda was pleased to see you had followed her instructions. She took her sweet time making her way up the stairs in her tight yellow shirt and blue jeans. Her eyebrows were raised, mouth a thin line with raised ends, when she first got a sight of your nude body. Perfection couldn’t even begin to describe you. You were so much more than that, a wondrous angel who fell from heaven just to bring her the utmost joy in life, the thrills she had never gotten beside her husband. 

“Hmmm good,” Wanda mumbled as she aimlessly stared at the nudity exposed. She could feel a tingling sensation between her legs, a shiver running down her back that she had yet to experience. “Such an obedient little doll. I like it.”

She wasted no time undressing herself, putting her folded clothes beside yours over the dresser. The way in which you carelessly followed her orders, not daring to think about anything beside them made her proud as ever. As she crawled over the bed with an animalistic sense overtaking her being, Wanda was ready to devour her prey. 

Kisses across your skin made you see the stars. She spent ages merely running her fingernails over your body which she cut short awaiting the blissful moment. Markings were left in her wake. Wanda’s possession over you had begun. She wanted, no, needed to make you hers entirely. To free your mind and soul from the confines of your own control and have them be hers forever.  

“Needy whore,” Wanda muttered as she cupped your cunt with a hand as the other supported her over you. Her breath was hot against your neck, tongue trailing across your skin before she peppered kisses all over your jaw and made her way to your mouth. “You’re fucking dripping for me. I bet you’re so tight, huh? You haven’t been properly fucked by anyone and need mommy’s help?”

That was new to say the least, but in your deeply hazy state of mind, your eyesight blurry with need, you couldn’t care less. 

“Please, Wanda. I need you so fucking bad,” you replied breathlessly. Your hips had a mind of their own as they began moving back and forth only to get your cunt to rub against the palm of her hand. “Touch me. I promise I’ll be so good for you, I’ll obey. Just please…mommy…”

“As I said: needy fucking whore.”

Wanda slapped her hand over your pussy harshly. She was sober up until you moaned loudly, your desperate noises giving her the push she so deeply needed. It was enough to get the older woman all drunk with you. Her hand smacked you over and over, not caring to stop even as you drew wetter than before, your slick juices running down your inner thighs and dripping onto the bed sheets you’d surely have to clean up. 

Fingers rubbed up and down your slit. They were lazy at first, moving without a true purpose as they teased your entrance and swirled over your swollen clint. You were throbbing by then, sobbing harshly with a tear-stricken red face while Wanda kept worshiping your frame and putting her focus between your legs. With the way her erect nipples slid up and down your body, at times grazing against your own, you weren’t sure you’d make it for long enough. 

When she finally eased herself in, you had to hold onto the woman so as to not fall apart. 

Those digits were long and slender, all coated with juices of yours as they inched inside your tight hole. Two at once were bearable. Wanda was sure to take her time allowing you to grow used to her, pumping her tips in you before moving them deeper. Velvety walls clung to her for dear life. You could only hear her low grunts from above you along with your own lewd sounds and the wet noises from your pussy. 

“Do you like being fucked like this, sweetheart? Your pussy all used by mommy. It’s fucking pathetic how desperate you are,” Wanda said as she drove her fingers into your depths and curled them up. The way in which you cried out of pain and pleasure made her smirk. “This is all mine. This dirty and hungry cunt is mommy’s property and you better fucking remember. Nobody else will ever touch you like I do.”

“I understand. I- ah!” She thumbed at your clit and you nearly came then and there. “I’ll be the best girl for you, mommy. I promise I won’t disappoint you.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

You spent what felt like eons lying on your childhood bedroom bed with Wanda on top of you. She pumped her fingers harshly in and out of your pussy, groaning at the way you were stretched out relentlessly. Her admiration with her hand all covered in your wetness was immersive. Green eyes flickered all over your body, mostly focused on your fucked cunt, but also paying mind to your nipples that she took with her mouth when leaning in. 

Holding her sadistic nature back was nearly impossible. Wanda wanted to break you, to slap her hands over your skin and leave you filled up with tears and bruises, perhaps gushing with red. Breaking you would be a delight. Taking your body and abusing every single inch of it, face buried between your legs as she scratched up your inner thighs until you bled. She could spend hours cleaning such beautiful red drops with her tongue if allowed to. 

Wanda didn’t stop fucking you widly. She was set on not just bringing you to your climax, but having you enjoy the trip there. Her mouth was all over the place in an instant – your chest, sucking on your nipples lightly, your neck, your face, and making its way down your body only to go up once again as a tease. Fingers were curling themselves up and thrusting in and out. Given all the erotic stimulation exerted over you, it wasn’t long until you came. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Never had you felt such an intense wave of pleasure overtake your being. Your eyes were wide, arms wrapped around the back of Wanda’s neck pulling her closer as your legs did the same. With an arched back, you got to press your own tits against her own. Her digits were still ramming into you without relent as your orgasm shook you apart, leaving you a hungry, and loud mess as Wanda smiled smugly. 

You remained all quiet and blissed out let alone for your breathless mannerism and little sounds of pleasure. 

“‘Slut’ seems fitting for you,” Wanda commented as she sat back with her fingers still deep in you. “I hope you know I’m not done with you yet. Mommy still wants to play with your pretty pussy, honey. And you’ll let me do it whether you like it or not. Well…” she drifted off only to tilt her head and speak quietly. “That is unless mommy’s whore wants a punishment. That can always be arranged, my sweet babylove. I am very good at hurting people. You’ll get to see that firsthand.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Her insistence to own you entirely was something you adored. Wanda didn’t once hide it. You were hers, she told you many times. There were moments when you’d lay with her front pressed against your back, a toy nestled deep inside you that was strapped around her waist. She would use her nails to scratch your skin, leaving faded marks of her initials on you. 

Although in secrecy, she’d never leave you to forget about who your true owner was. Whether it was with small touches when your families met every once in a while or glances shared from across the street as she tended to her garden and you simultaneously picked up the mail. Each day you spent at your hometown working from there remotely rather than the city you found it much more difficult to even humor leaving. 

Your parents had been thrilled that you spent more time back home. Unbeknownst to them, you were sneaking out to meet Wanda at various motels, at times visiting her home while her husband was at work and her children at school. Never had your life carried such an adrenaline kick to it. 

Wanda had invited you and your brother to join her family once on a trip to a nearby amusement park. While Vision, Tony, and the twins went on to explore all the roller coasters, you stayed behind with the redhead. She would make casual conversation, at times brushing her hand against your own to be a tease. That night she had punished you for having forced her into going on a rather nerve-racking ride where she screamed her head off, getting off all humiliated and mumbling something about how you were a bad girl for mommy. You got fifteen spankings for your trouble, but it was well worth it when in the end you got a picture of a frightened Wanda on the roller coaster. 

For a moment you found it difficult to conclude where you stood with Wanda. Surely she told you about her unhappy and unfulfilling marriage, about how the spark had disappeared, and yet she was cold-hearted when you attempted to give her affection during certain moments. Regardless, you knew she craved you on some level at the very least. Both were content with that as it was enough for you. 

She wasn’t as happy when you found yourself cornered by another neighbor at the annual town fair. Given the size of Westview, it wasn’t a truly packed event. At most you found peers who you knew since childhood, neighbors, shop owners, past teachers – of course one of them being one Maria Hill. 

Unlike Wanda, Maria wasn’t so discreet when it came to her advances. She had a wife and children, and yet for some reason came onto you at the fair. It only made matters worse when you found Natasha chatting amicably with Wanda from across the event, feeling bad for the other redhead as your secret lover met your gaze and stared daggers at the tall woman hovering in your personal space. 

When a hand touched down upon your waist, Maria mumbling something about how no one has to know, it was enough to prompt Wanda to rush towards you as a saving grace. She pretended to need help finding the twins and as loyal as ever, you agreed while throwing the brunette a quick glance. 

“Did she touch you?” Wanda had snarled out. As angry as you knew she was, there was a surprising hint of worry in her voice. 

When you nodded, her face scrunched up with both fury and sadness. You were far too anxious about being left alone for Wanda to act on her wrath, so instead she nestled you close and brought you with her to find something sweet to feed you, letting you have the cotton candy she had previously rolled her eyes at, mumbling on about how her little girl would get cavities. 

That morning Wanda had dressed you up, sneaking into your house while your family was already off at the fair. She picked out your clothes – a beautiful short pink skirt, a white sleeveless blouse, thigh-high socks, and Converse shoes. The golden necklace which hung around your neck with a small heart was given to you. Mommy was elated to see her princess donning an outfit which made you seem like a doll. It was all she wanted at times, to take her pretty dolly and play house with you, to use you as though there was not a thought behind your eyes which, to be fair, was the truth when you were surrounded by Wanda. You were a doll and she was your master. 

Holding onto those memories of the earlier day was the only way you got through the fair. 

As soon as you got home, you ignored the way your parents told you they’d spend the night with your cousin across town, leaving alongside Tony who found your silence odd, but shrugged it off and left. Not caring about much, all you did was shrug off your clothes, put on an oversized shirt, and throw yourself over the bed to forget about Maria’s advances. 

Wanda was far too busy on her own. After having sent off a text wishing you a good night’s rest, she went ahead to tuck her children in and say goodnight to her husband, promising to be back soon given she forgot to buy milk for the following day. Only instead of rushing to the store, she went to the Romanoff residence along with an ax. 

It was the last night Maria ever shared with her wife and kids before being knocked unconscious and dragged to the edge of town where she was taught a lesson. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

You were asleep when a mysterious figure slipped into your room. Her breathing was ragged, drops of red falling onto your hardwood floor as she made her way closer to you. Darkness was prominent along your surroundings, leaving her hidden away as she crawled onto your bed. Hands tugged at her clothes, pulling it all off and, rather than pristinely folding the black dress, throwing it to the side of the bed. 

All that lay beneath were drops that fell from her face onto her nude skin and a strap-on attached to her waist. 

Wanda threw her phone to your side while unlocked and ready to play a video. Even in the dusk around her, she could make out the silhouette of your body as you lay on your stomach all sprawled over the bed. Such a perfect and innocent thing, she thought while sneaking a hand beneath your large shirt only to come in contact with nothing but your nudity beneath. 

“I see you’ve been waiting for me,” Wanda muttered as she shook her head with amusement. “Naughty girl. So ready and needy for mommy already.”

After pulling up your shirt just enough, the woman shifted over you. She grabbed the dildo and ran the tip against your already slick cunt after you went to sleep with vivid images of Wanda in your mind. At the lewd sounds your body made once the toy was swirled up and down your folds, parting them in the process, Wanda grunted. After the adrenaline rush she had experienced, you were there to bring her back down. 

At the feeling of something wet entering you, you frowned. You were barely conscious at the time, hazy eyes opening only slightly to see black let alone from the light of a phone by your side. Thinking it was yours, you grabbed it mindlessly, groaning as desperation fueled you. 

“Hi there, sleeping beauty. Did you miss me?”

It was the unmistakable voice of Wanda which calmed you down as you had slowly begun trying to get out of the bed but were forced to remain in place. You didn’t dare give much thought to the idea that although you could be in danger, one word mustered by your lover was enough to get your breathing to normalize once again. 

But alas, you basked in confusion. You reached out for the bedside table to click on the light, frowning before you turned around to face Wanda. “Wan- what are you doing?”

“Shhh I’m just making it all better,” she replied. Even from that you could sense an unhinged tone behind her words trying to make its way out. “We’ve talked about this, honey. I thought you wanted mommy to surprise you with her cock one night. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Yes but…” you had wanted it, of course you did, but not with Wanda’s face covered with what you deduced was blood. At that you truly began freaking out. “Wanda what the fuck?! Are you okay?”

Your attempt to move away so you could take a better look at the woman failed. Instead, you were pressed down over the bed, your head stuck in place as you wiggled around. “Stop squirming, pet. Let mommy give you a little treat. You need it so bad after today, huh? Just a reminder of who owns you?”

Her jealousy was not something you were unaware of. Many times Wanda’s green monster came out to play, its tint similar to that of her eyes. You could barely hold a conversation with one of the other neighbors, although older ones, without feeling someone boring their eyes at you – that someone being Wanda who huffed and puffed up until you finished your conversation. Seeing others be able to chat so casually with you in public without anyone growing suspicious was something she desperately craved. 

She completely ignored your worries and began inching deeper inside of you. It was a deep red toy you knew so well, its ridges deliciously ghosting against your pussy and stretching it out even more. It was thick, girthy enough to make you scream at the feeling of it laying in your depths. 

“You’re so tight, little one. It looks like mommy has to take care of this hungry pussy with her cock once again. You are so desperate. It’s fucking adorable, slut,” Wanda breathed out. She held you close to her body which shivered at the feeling of cool blood against it. “Here, baby. Grab mommy’s phone. I have a little surprise to show you.”

“Um…” you did as you were told, but were profusely confused. “Yes, mommy. I- fuck that feels so good.”

Wanda thrust her hips forth and basked on the sound of your skins slapping together. “I know, whore, but you have to be good and do as you’re told,” she tilted her head and watched how the faux light accentuated the way your cunt swallowed her toy. “Hmm you take cock so well. Such a precious tiny angel. Now play the video. I want you to see how good mommy is at protecting her property.”

When doing as you were told, everything stopped. You wouldn’t dare question Wanda about her blood-stricken face nor did you need to after the sight in front of you. The video showed Wanda standing over a fallen Maria, ax in hand that she kept swinging up and down. Blood pooled underneath the brunette’s body each time she got hit.

43 cuts is what your lover counted in the video before she grew tired and her adrenaline fuel ceased. She was breathless, eyeing the camera with a smile before taking a break to go again. Her resentment with Maria was not left behind at the party. Not only had the woman touched the redhead’s property, but she also made discomfort grow within you. The punishment she received was Wanda being reasonable. 

“Watch it, baby. Come on. Be a good girl and keep your eyes open.” Wanda’s voice was sickly sweet as she grunted above you. She couldn’t stop herself from focusing on how glorious the wet sounds of your pussy were as you were fucked nice and slow with her strap. “That’s what happens when people try to take what’s mine. You’re mommy’s little bitch in heat, no one else’s.” 

It was wrong. Oh so wrong.

And yet you were unable to tear your eyes away from the screen, watching intently as Wanda began swinging the ax over and over until even a drop of blood dripped down the foggy lense of the phone’s camera. Her arms flexed as the black dress she had worn at the fair earlier that day became stained with red. As maniacal and psychotic as she seemed, your cunt throbbed at the image. 

“Mommy protects what is hers. No one dares take my property,” Wanda moaned as she grabbed your cheeks, throwing her head back as she thrust in you roughly. “My fucking pussy. Every fucking inch of yours is mine, Y/N. And you’ll move back home and it’ll stay that way, right? You’ll do that just for mommy?”

She slapped a hand over your ass and for a moment you could barely process the words. Your brain was filled with images of Wanda taking Maria’s life, the woman motionless beneath the redhead who giggled with each hit she gave. Seeing the possession she had over you, getting to the point she wouldn’t let such horrid behavior against you slide easily, made your heart flutter.

“Come on, baby. Cum.” Wanda kept spanking your backside until it was all red and sore, the crackling sound becoming an orchestra for your ears. Her cock remained nestled in you, being pulled in and out of your gaping cunt that swallowed it whole. “Do it for mommy, honey. Show me what a good little slut you are, how much you fucking love it when I kill for you.”

It was enough to bring you over the edge. For a moment you had no thoughts in your mind, Wanda using a free hand to grab a fistful of your hair and pull at it harshly. She wanted your eyes on the phone that displayed the flashing images of her taking care of Maria, leaving her all bloody, battered, and filled with cuts. You were to know what she could do if you dared misbehave. Wanda wouldn’t allow you to leave whether you liked it or not. There was always room in her backyard for you to take your eternal nap if so. 

Once you came down from your orgasm, Wanda kissed your back all over. She was consumed by your presence, all drunk with your being. You were the drug she quickly became addicted to. Her status, her marriage, and even her children meant nothing when she was by your side. 

“Such a good puppy,” Wanda mumbled. “So good, baby. You did so well for mommy. I’m very proud of you for being good today, for obeying me as you should.”

“Thank you, mommy.”

“Hmm of course, sweetheart. I have to reward good behavior,” she said. “We should really clean your bed sheets and floor up before the morning. I wouldn’t imagine your parents are keen on seeing a bloody mess in your room…or me.”

The following day not a member of Wanda’s family dared question her as she rolled a rather intriguing piece of meat through the meat grinder. She wondered if Maria’s spouse would like a slice of her famous lasagna. Perhaps then she'll stop looking at you with such desire. After unknowingly getting a taste of her wife, Natasha would surely leave you alone.

[rjalker]

the government is not going to give us any more foodstamps unless I prove I'm working or looking for a job. While they take their sweet time deciding on whether or not I'm really too disabled to work. Despite the fact that the federal government has known literally from the moment I was born that I'm disabled, and its literally their fucking fault that someone fucked up the gods damned files when we turned 18 and deleted us from the fucking system.

And the people who are supposed to "help" me get a job that will accomodate me are not, in fact, going to actually do anything to help me get a job that will accommodate me. They're literally just to make sure I am trying to get a job.

The person on the phone literally exclaimed incredulously, "Well, you need to go to a doctor!" when I explained all my damn problems with standing and walking too long. So then we had to explain, I literally can't, I don't have health insurance.

Which a job will not fucking provide anyways unless I work full time, which I am physically and mentally incapable of doing.

So I'm going to be forced to apply to Walmart, even though I know for a fucking fact that they will not let me sit. Which is why I had my fucking hip dislocated for months before I finally quit up in Pennsylvania!

Welp.

I'm telling you all now. I will literally not fucking accept anything less than $20/h. I will not fucking negotiate. If Walmart hires me as a cashier they will literally be getting the best cashier they've ever fucking had. I will not fucking accept anything less than $20/h when I know for a fact they're not going to accommodate me and I'll probably have to put up with being misgendered and deadnamed the whole fucking time.

And I will straight up refuse to work on the self checkouts because that's literally how I destroyed my hip the first time. And I will not be fucking collecting carts. Or stocking shelves. Or cleaning.

Either I get to do nothing but run the cash register, which I am a fucking expert at, while being allowed to sit in a chair that is comfortable and not making everything worse, or I'm not fucking doing it. I am not killing myself for this shitty fucking corporation again when they are literally raising the gods damned prices on food overnight and $10 can't even buy you a shitty meal for your lunch.

And I will not be fucking working 9 hour shifts with an eight hour unpaid lunch break either. I am not letting them steal my entire fucking day.

They can fucking afford it. And we both know it. And I will not fucking let them pretend otherwise.

If this fucking government is going to force me to work when I'm too gods damned disabled to do so without destroying my body even more, then I'm getting the bare fucking minimum of reasonable wages while doing so.

Fuck America.

[anexperimentallife]

So we had to report someone after they posted a picture of El and me along with a long, totally unhinged (and wildly inaccurate) rant, @'d @thesurestthing and me, and sent dms to both of us, both the post and dms being about what horrible people we all are, how disabled people are just lazy, how anyone who has to ask for help after being hit with too many unexpected emergencies in a row is a terrible lazy person, that interracial relationships are bad, how I'm going to die soon, etc...

Oh, and how they they HOPE Zoey and El suffer for the rest of their lives after I'm gone, and how Zoey will be begging for help forever because she's useless.

So... Monday here.

Also, they claim Zoey is just my girlfriend (she's my wife), they didn't know she's from the US, and opine that it's my fault my youngest son died in his twenties of pneumonia (which according to them he did to himself--while I was a thousand miles away--but it's somehow still my fault) and my fault that my older son shot himself after refusing attempt after attempt from myself and others to get him to accept help for his bipolar disorder. So yeah, thanks for using the deaths of my sons to attack me. Shows a lot of class.

Also, they claim Zoey is a terrible mother, has no drive, and no skills (despite her being an excellent mother, earning a college degree while she was still in high school, and despite ONE of the reasons we're going back--in addition to me needing medical treatment--being for her to work and get a higher degree), and apparently we should both be working here even though we're not legally allowed to (because, again, disabled people are just lazy and we should also risk imprisonment, because THAT would be responsible)?

Somehow, they're also very concerned for Zoey and El despite outright saying they HOPE El and Zoey suffer?

Just completely off the rails, unhinged ranting.

They didn't even get the timeline right. I was autistic with ADHD and head and spine injuries before we found out (during the Philippines STRICT lockdown) that we were having a baby, and at that point I'd just gotten contracted for the licensing fee, which we had every reason to believe (based on the longevity of the company's other properties) that it would gp on for basically as long as I was game m--so it LOOKED like smooth sailing ahead. (That contract was the only reason we stopped being so careful to avoid pregnancy, too.)

So yes, I was disabled when we got pregnant with El, but in a stable way at that point. It wasn't until AFTER we found out about the pregnancy that I got covid three times that my health started scarily declining. THAT was when all the scary stuff with my eye and heart and feet and face started. But apparently we're horrible for... not knowing that was going to happen?

Thing is, if the company that was paying me a licensing fee to turn my first-sold story into a game hadn't canceled the project one year in with zero notice (while we were still paying for El's birth), if El hadn't had a mistake on her birth certificate that left her stateless and took almost two years to resolve, and if I hadn't gotten COVID three times, we'd be okay financially. We wouldn't have had to ask for help with El's legal stuff or my medical bills, and we wouldn't have to be asking for help now.

Of course, we're the only people they follow, and that's their only post, so they obviously made the blog just for this purpose. I think I know who it is, but I can't prove it, so oh, well. Took screen shots in case receipts are needed later, but since it's obviously a throwaway account, it would be pointless to @ them here.

(Oh, apparently we're also bad people for being... liberals? LOL We're leftists, man. Liberals are more conservative than we are.)

Like I said, pretty sure I know who it is, and they probably hate-follow us from another account anyway, but, y'know, they're too cowardly to show themselves. So hi. Go to therapy.

Yeah. Fun stuff.

Anyway, if you'd like to help us all get back to the US so I can use my benefits to get the medical treatment I need (which, again, is needed as a result of me getting covid 3X AFTER we found out we were having El), please see my pinned post.

[star1ight0]

How to exist as me

How do I exist as an autistic person without feeling guilty,

I know that unlike a lot of people i got the privilege of being diagnosed before becoming an adult but it was really late nonetheless. Even so,

I've not been treated the way any other person would be with autism, having to follow a script penned by neurotypicals all the time is hard and draining I constantly feel like i have no energy to do anything at all after as much as an hour at the store.

I've been told more times that I can count " It's not your fault you have a hart time unmasking "

but I feel as if cant be accepted by my community if i cant unmask,

I know in some part of me that I'm allowed to feel venerable and that I deserve to have people around me that can both see and acknowledge my struggles as a disabled person,

but to be told "your not autistic" because I don't act the way a 10 year old autistic boy does feels so unfair.

I grew up always changing the way acted to be seen and treated as human, so its hard trying to undo all of that.

"learning how to be 'unapologetically' you" Seems imposable, learning how to be my own person, rather than conforming to the behaviors and standards set by people who are simply not like me and don't understand why its so hard.

Growing up with an unaccommodated disability has left a scar in so many ways, and trying to heal isn't easy. I've grown up trying to protect myself from the inherent discrimination shown to me.

I do not "have autism" I don't "suffer from autism"

I'm autistic

Maybe its silly but its this type of treatment is what has sent me into relapses living in a world where nothing is made for you be it my epilepsy, being diabetic but especially being autistic. It feels like nothing is in my control, be it: the way public education is or how inaccessible the 'real world' is.

Not being in control of you body is scary and stressful weather it be because of a seizure, being overstimulated, or feeling like my body is about to shut down because my sugars are low its scary.

Feeling my body shake and not knowing if its because its too hot or if its my blood sugar, its caused me so much mental pain and put me in many depressive episodes of which I blatantly refused to take care of myself as a means of self destruction.

Being able to control something feels helpful, even if that one thing you can control is burring your skin off. Its a form of pain I feel an unhealthy amount of comfort in. Even so getting high until I cant remember where I am is better than being hyper aware of everything around me. The unbelievable amount of trauma I've endured is only adding to the fact.

When the help you need is so inaccessible what am I meant to do, when a system that is meant to help you is built to help you seems to work against you, or has failed you so many time what is it I'm meant to do?

what is there left for me to do?

[smallblanketfort]

i wish i were better at this. the whole thing. waking up in the morning. focus. keeping up with the dog’s shed. holding hands in public, no, being the one who reaches first. new friends. better at slinging off the fog of tired. i am crawling upside down. a crunched jaw. am i eating enough? sleeping enough? resting enough? moving enough to complete my body’s threat cycle? honest enough? do i garden enough? am i ambitious enough? do i slow enough? making enough? completing enough? pushing myself enough? finding joy enough? when i refused to call myself an artist, i was more shy, but now i am more disappointed. it’s the month i was born, and i had written it down: don’t postpone joy this time. every movement a celebration of every movement. a breath of celebration. embrace color, love, acceptance. my therapist says i’m so self aware it’s incredible to watch. and i sleep every moment i get the chance. some mornings i am convinced i have experienced all that i need to. content to a fault. i can’t wring the sea foam from my muscles. disappointment and all. if i can’t flail my arms at home is it really home? i have to move. i am asleep, no dreaming, and apologizing- this isn’t who i really am, is it. hushing my dog’s whines. this morning i woke up and i planted flower seeds shaped like a snail’s shell. i visited a perfect apartment, all windows, a black cat’s nose pressed to the screen. slept all afternoon, wake, heavy, but lingering. i let the world hold me when i cannot hold it. i let the barista choose my drink, and it’s perfect. the moon intercepts the sun rays, and it’s perfect. a father teaches his son fighting moves in the coffee shop and brings him to his knees, and we are all giggling, so it’s perfect. a man leaves his small red car to take a photo of my bumper stickers and send it to someone, smiling, it’s perfect. i sit at the sidewalk table and every person who walks past meets my eyes, and they wear cool shoes, and that’s perfect. my dog sniffs at a postwoman with a gray mohawk, and we are all so perfect. one thing about feeling depressed is that you are allowed to feel depressed anywhere. you can bedrot in a good outfit outside the coffee shop, in the middle of a park, with your dog. let the earth become you, peel back the layers of cloudiness for moments of perfection, moments perfect just because you were there to witness it. it helps.

-mouse

[thedulcet-lingers]

Tw: sexual assault

I was 13, only 13 when you, a 17 year old dragged me across the stairs and pushed me to the wall and told me to shut up and let you do your thing. When I refused, you told me that I'm abnormal and this is what all girls my age do so why do I have a problem?

I have a problem because you didn't let me make my own choice.

I have a problem because no didn't mean no when I said it.

I have a problem because those 10 minutes that you probably didn't even think about ever again, impacted my life in ways I can't even comprehend. It started off with me feeling ashamed and not being able to open up to anyone, I let society get the best of me and thought that it was my fault somehow. This is exactly what you wanted me to think, everybody did, this is how women are conditioned to think. I even continued talking to you where each time you convinced me that I overreated and I agreed.

A few years later, however, I broke free of what society wanted me to be, of what they wanted me to think, especially when it came to you. I started opening up about it, I didn't allow you to be a part of my life anymore and I addressed you as what you were, an abuser, whenever your name came up in a conversation. I didn't feel any guilt anymore and to this day I don't but I also genuinely thought I moved on from it but I was wrong.

I have trouble opening up myself up to romantic relationships, I don't know how to form a physical connection with anyone unless I'm intoxicated and won't largely remember it the next day. This even led to a phase in my life when I was 18 to constantly get drunk and try to do things I'm not proud of. I lost touch with myself, I was angry and confused all the time and I just didn't know how to chnage. I labelled myself as abnormal, I couldn't get close to anyone even if I really wanted to. I was alone even when I didn't have to be. I hurt myself and I hurt others.

When I was 13, I probably didn't have to know what physical intimacy was, I didn't need it to have a meaning for me, I was supposed to figure that out slowly as a grew up with care and consent. You, however, made me associate words with intimacy at that little age. Those words were 'shame', 'disgust' and many other negative adjectives that shouldn't be what anyone associates with the feeling, at any age.

I try very hard to change this but it seems impossible and to this day I struggle. There were similar incidents in my life that took place after I was 18 that made my condition even worse but I would've been better equipped at that age to handle these situations or even be in them at all but what you did, when I was just 13, you changed the course of my life. I was just a little girl, hoping to eventually find love in my life, to experience the beautiful feeling of intimacy and to live a wonderful life but even at the times I came close to that love, that intimacy and that feeling of wonderfulness, I rejected it. I couldn't accept it no matter how hard I tried and you probably don't know how it feels to want something so much but to still push it away, not understanding why, not having any control over it.

You will probably never understand the struggles I faced because of those 10 minutes with you, or even know about them but what I can tell you with assurity is that I will get over this, I will get over everything you made me feel, I will overcome every problem that the incident has since caused me. Whether you intended it or not, I will not let you hurt me any longer. One day, I will give myself everything I wanted when I was little, everything that you took away from me.

You're horrible, you truly are but my life will no longer be.

---

I found this in my notes app from 2 years ago and the positivity at the end shocked me because I don't feel that way right now

I remember writing this helped me heal quite a bit but it was one of those rare moments I let myself think about this and I'm starting to think that maybe I should write more of these and let myself address it so that I can move forward, if that's ever possible?

[c0rpseductor]

bluh

it's just so frustrating. i know a lot of it is my own fault because i refuse to lean on people i know on an intellectual level are trustworthy, reliable, emotionally available and want to be there for me. it's just like...idk. i don't want to. i feel terribly lonely stuck with trauma stuff especially and forcing myself to try to go it alone and only really allowing myself to like, talk to myself on tumblr.net, but like

idk. i just hate that the alternative is not only feeling like and potentially Genuinely Being a burden or imposition, but that the alternative means having to be vulnerable and accepting the risk that someone might hurt my feelings while i'm upset or just not have the ability to listen or might just not give a damn.

and it's kind of like, i'm starting to feel sometimes like it's just been wrong of me to directly tell people about my issues and traumas and lean on them when that's what a therapist ought to be for. like part of me severely regrets having discussed my abuse and flashbacks and all that kind of stuff with my friends. like who wants or needs to hear that? what is the point of inflicting that on others or seeking their help? like, you don't come to your friends when you have a broken leg, you go to the fucking doctor. so why have i been whining to them about my ptsd instead of just shutting up and going to therapy, or better yet just shutting up period.

i know some of this is like. deranged triggered while migraine thinking. i would encourage you not to take it too seriously or deem it worthy of response. i just like, idk. i feel lonely a lot all the time, like it's harder and harder to reach out to my friends even just to chat, and harder to care about anything in my life at all, and everything sucks, but i still kind of wish i could just shrink into myself and vanish and just sleep for a few months

[the-sweetest-little-angel]

Growing up in house of abuse and neglect, being mistreated for being autistic, make accepting we high support needs difficult. Cause feel gross for having needs, for not being independent and able do things by self. It get worse and worse as grow up. Have knowledge to do some things, but cannot apply knowledge. Feel guilty for receiving help. Plus psychiatrist tell us we entitled and selfish for not being able work job or be where our peers at and we take advantage of parents. He was terrible psychiatrist. Made us cry bad.

But when most of life been told how to be and can't become that, there barrier in way you can't force it, it makes it hard to accept. Like I shouldn't be this way, but I always been this way. I wasn't even independent before, I was traumatized and refused to ask for help. Even if it meant hurting myself. And trauma only makes it harder to support self at all. Always had problems of not eating and not doing stuff to care for self. Always struggled to do things other people my age do. Always treated like everyone else, expected to be like everyone else. But not like everyone else. Often punished for meltdowns and emotion problems. Mocked and belittled for difficulties. Meltdown cause frustrated, but told I was too difficult and I can get help when I calm down and learn act right.

Knowing I always high support needs and have brainy brain difficulties, but forced to be like everyone else that no have those problems hurts. I punished and yelled at and treated as monster for autistic things and other difficulties. I can't understand as well and very slow. I can only be smart in small ways, but only get praised for being smart. Brain works differently. Sometimes I appear smart so they ignore my difficulties and praise the smart part. But it not help. And lots of smart thinking come from trauma and needing to avoid punishment, not genuine smartness. Idea of smart vs dumb is terrible. Cause was always dumb, but held up as smart for what few ways brain could think differently in "better" way than others. Ignored all struggles, ignored way needed help, ignored difficulties, ignore barriers in understanding.

Never fully understood way I mistreated either. Cause very naive and easily manipulated. Even when knew was wrong, everyone told me it not wrong. Can't trust self. Truly learned to blame self. Hate self for disabilities and dumb brain. For not understanding. Meant it was my fault and not that I just...can't do what others can. I'm okay with it now. But. Seeing ways I was ignored, neglected, mistreated, abused and how no one truly cared for me hurt. I was "advanced" so they push this idea I was smart and better. Between brothers abuse and constant belittlement and that, my entire worth focus on being smart. But was never truly smart like other kids were. Always felt inferior. Always struggled when other kids didn't. I just hid it. I let other kids take lead. I hide it because was ashamed and scared. Stayed silent about struggles. Even when given actual help, it didn't help me understand. Brain can't process it right. But I lied. Because wasn't comfortable. Always see everyone else understand when I cannot. Socially, academically, even in normal light hearted fun stuff. Was looked at weird for not understanding, was treated poorly for not understanding, was laughed at for not understanding.

It hard to accept I have needs. It hard to accept I struggle. Because struggle was always mocked and punished for me. Suffer in silence was what I learned. And undoing that and accepting I do need help feels wrong. Like I'm just pretending to get help, like I'm evil, like I'm playing it up to get help. As if it not been my entire life and what I always wanted and needed. Never fitting in. Never able to truly understand. Still catch self being bad to self as if not allowed help. It so hard to unlearn something you internalized from the point your memory began. That you were wrong and not trying hard enough and everyone else is better because they can understand and you can't. It so hard to unlearn that. Hate that I never had chance cause of family I was born to. How easy to overlook me has been entire life. Hate it.

[myl8twenties]

The faults… let’s list them.

Firstly this fucking break up, you have never in a single day taken responsibility for anything. How about thinking about the other person and what they went through instead of how stressed you are???? Literally only thing that goes through your mind is yourself

Now let’s start from the top…

You were so terribly rude about my school and my appearance, you thought I was ugly. Sorry but have you ever looked at how far you are? Or the insecure way you walk or talk?

Also the conversation was never fun, the first night we met I was disappointed, I thought okay he’s actually a dud… then I kept pushing it.

But you are not smart, you are not witty or a good banterer. I fall asleep every time we talk because it’s just about you and your self. Every time we went into a store you loved when the sales reps gave you attention. You are always dying for attention, yet you never look up to say I look good. Because you’re so used to me doting on you.

I have so many interesting and intelligent thoughts and you can never keep up, they don’t even strike you. If we were to get married I’d have to keep the wit to myself because you can’t share the attention. It’s always about you, you can’t think anyone else ever could be witty. Also you are allowed to have all the meltdowns in the world and I am there for you, but if I ever make a single mistake or need help it’s either I’m too needy, too annoying or anything. It’s unfair.

Also you smelled bad and had the palette of a child, eating with you was awful. You also never cared if I ate, it was always just your own food. Living with you was miserable, I could not imagine how controlling and awful it would’ve been.

Every time we tried breaking up, you only solved your own problems, never anyone else’s.

Lastly, I think you truly were the most horrible partner. You were selfish and cruel, you used manipulative tactics to with hold love and you only cared about your needs and refused to ever accept mine, even if I begged. I think I keep viewing this as a competition to see who will win but winning is killing me - what did I do to myself when I was winning? I was crying every day, I couldn’t even imagine dating you without a strong group of friends

[fallinto-u]

I've been through every stage of grief regarding you. There's been times where I even refused to look at the moon. The next moment I was sobbing on the floor because all I wanted was to have you near. I experienced every emotion there is to feel when it came to you. While knowing you but also afterwards. There's a whole range of emotions I couldn't access until recently.

You see, my fear of abandonment was so severe, I couldn't fully allow my anger for example. That would mean losing you. Cause honesty I had lots of reasons to be angry, and to not accept things I wasn't okay with. You probably know the multiple things I'm talking about. In the end I just suppressed my feelings, lots of feelings. It was hard and lonely.

It's been a little while since we stopped talking, and only after that, for the first time I started seeing things from my perspective. I didn't deserve a lot of the things that you put me through. I can finally fully admit and acknowledge that. And that may be a big reason why I'm not so sure about wanting you to be an active part of my life anymore.

But don't get me wrong, this post isn't just about wrongdoings or me seemingly thinking either completely black or white. I still go back in those coping patterns because in the end they do protect me and have helped me get through difficult emotions/times. But right now, I think I have finally found a grey area. I see your faults, I see that it was not okay, yet I still love you. I see the huge amount of good times we've had as well. I am realistic about both and see that's okay. I also know that it's fully my responsibility on what I allow, and where I draw the line when a situation isn't healthy for me.

I thought I had to unlove you to move on but realized that's not always necessary. Truth is, I don't think I ever could anyways. Leaving was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do for myself. I absolutely hated it. But, believe me when I say that I didn't have a choice anymore. There's still moments where I feel incredibly guilty and feel responsible for your happiness, while I left you in a mess.

I miss you, but realize that especially for a while that would not be healthy for either of us. We can't meet each other's needs, we trigger each other and got caught up in toxic patterns. It's as simple, as hard and complicated as that.

Part of me wishes I would one day still be able to speak to you again. But life is not a movie like Before Sunrise or Stuck in love, and maybe our connection can never be healthy. I don't know. We've already tried many times, even with a one year break.

I just know that now I'm learning to treasure my love for you from afar, and hope that you're not giving up on yourself nor forgetting me completely.

[tearsandfairydust]

I don’t need you to see me anymore.

At this point I have accepted that we aren’t going to work and that’s okay. I have truly exhausted every option to fight for us to work out but I realized I was only fighting with myself because you didn’t care to fight for us too. You didn’t care to hear me out or see me; and God how I have been begging you to for so long. I’m tired of having to beg you to love me properly. If you loved me, I wouldn’t have to beg. I see it clear as day now and I only needed you to continuously do it for me to finally wake up. I allowed so much time for you to help me fix us. I gave you every tool imaginable to learn me. Yet, you still don’t know me. I gave you so much patience, yet, you tell me I gave you none. How when I took all the patience left in my body down to my very bones and I wrapped it in a pretty little bow and I gave myself to you. I changed myself for you. I no longer have interest in allowing myself to be hated by you. I refuse to continue to be your punching bag. I use to love myself before you came along. Then I took all that love and I poured it into you because I believed you were misunderstood and needed it more than I did. I was wrong and I have realized that it is I now that deserves my love. I deserve to be the one who receives my unconditional love. I deserve to allow myself faults and to make mistakes and it’s okay if you don’t because I forgive myself. I don’t need you to forgive me anymore. I don’t need you to validate me anymore. I don’t even need you to see me anymore. I see me, and that will always be enough from now on.

[woweewoweeo]

I really got excited for an opportunity to understand eachother and wake up the next day to I guess what I deserve

Welp love yah and see yah never I guess, I had just found us some shrooms and was so excited to ask you to come see ASADI with me in June and maybe trip before or after at hockings outside if you needed or wanted that but anyways, I’m sorry you felt the need to do this and I know I can’t say shit, I’ve said and done all kinds of awful things but that’s not what I want to carry into my death and I hope next life we can do better, I can do better for me and better for you. Sweet dreams always and stay safe Shelby, I’ll learn my patience and forgiveness and return it to those I’ve wronged.

 I love you but I’m not here for you anymore, you want to throw 555 metaphorical days away for no reason,  I’ll make it real for you. Goodbye. Hope you got the attention and response you craved. Won’t ever try to reach out to you like this again because you made it clear that’s what you need and want 👍🏼🫶🏻👋🏼 I blocked you on everything just like you’ve always done me, hope it helps whatever you got going on and makes you happy.

I told you not to talk to me because you said I deserve worse and that I didn’t get in enough “ trouble “. Shouldn’t have ever put myself back in your company. Lesson Learned. You were just bored and I was a way to stimulate yourself, find another way Shelby. I quit and I release you. That metaphorical connection of over 500 plus days was very important and you proved what it really meant to you. What I really have always meant to you, I’m just something you block, delete or ignore whenever you don’t want it to be around and it doesn’t fit your needs.

I hope one day you see people are here for more than validating your existence and giving you attention. Whatever, waste of my time and my energy but I don’t want to die not saying what I have to say which is you always accused me of such fucked sexual shit when at least I don’t get paid to fuck / be objectified and enjoyed the fuck out of it 🤣  You enjoy being an object for everyone’s consumption, I deserve something different. So do you.

Glad you said you didn’t want to be with me and that you just wanted to do what you wanted and showed who you really are, which also allowed me to see who I really am which is in serious horrible pain, needing to put myself in an environment where I’m properly heard and cared for and have a safe space to speak my emotions without them being manipulated back on to me because you lack basic emotional intelligence or understanding.

I hope you find deeper help as well and not just repeating loop of therapy you claim has helped you so much when you can’t even hold a conversation about in depth feelings and the layers/ complexity of those feeling and how they are affecting things.  I will find that depth with someone who appreciates and pushes me to be the best I can be. I’m so glad it wasn’t you, go “do what you want” Shelby.

Thanks for being the biggest learning lesson ever, never trust anyone. People lie when they aren’t honest with themselves, especially those who you expect to be close to you.   Can’t wait to start my life with beautiful souls who accept my faults and don’t hold them against me and refuse to let me grow and heal but actually hold and love and want to be with me wholeheartedly, not always looking for a reason I’m not deserving of love

I don’t think I ever did anything good enough for you. I was so excited to be good enough for someone who has actual faith in me and doesn’t crave to see me fail

something’s are bigger than your petty high school mindset you’re fighting with. I will fly. Dead or Alive.

[bitchyaesthetic]

i don’t know what’s wrong with me.

-

i was ready to date again, get back out there, and when i finally got the chance to i didn’t want to. i want to say that it’s your fault but i know that’s not the truth, i know that’s only a surface level explanation. sure, i did intertwine myself with you again. but i knew that with time and space i was strong enough to not fall to your feet in your presence.

i even got accepted to raya, a longtime goal of mine. funnily enough on the last day i saw you before you left. i was waiting for you to tell me when to come over when i got the notification and i was through the moon, immediately setting up my account. though when i did go see you that night i made sure i had my notifications off.

after you left i scrolled and was giddy, but after my excitement faded away i lost interest. i set my profile to for friends only. i looked at men with more of disgust than want. i saw no potential with any of these men.

and yes in a way we left things open ended, and i do have hope for the future. but you told me not to wait for you, and i had already told myself that i wouldn’t. that if the right person came along while you were gone, i wouldn’t deny him because of a “what if”.

but i don’t want to date anymore.

of course part of it has to do with you, how could it not? you’re the first person i’ve ever loved, the first person i ever saw a future with. and i wouldn’t be crying right now if i didn’t still have feelings for you. in all honesty i think i’ll always have feelings for you. and i want things to work out for us so badly, and i do have hope that this trip will have the effect on you that both you and i think that it will. i do have hope that you’ll come back from a summer spent with your family grown and no longer afraid or holding yourself back from what you want.

but i refuse to delude myself! i know that as the way things were when you left we had no real future. i was in love with you, and you were too afraid of getting hurt again to allow yourself the possibility. you even told me that you want to be with me but you keep hesitating and don’t know why. and you need to work through that. there’s a chance that you won’t come back and want to pick things back up with me, that you won’t grow on this trip and return still unable to commit. there’s even the chance that we try again and things still don’t work out.

but either way i’m honestly just so afraid.

afraid of getting hurt by you. afraid of being alone. afraid of never feeling reciprocated love. afraid that no one will ever make me feel the way that you did. that you do. your texts make me smile, your presence gives me comfort, and even the physical just clicks.

even when i’m not thinking of you, you’re in my mind. and my heart. even if i don’t know i’m thinking of you, i am. you have shaped me and changed me and helped me to grow, and for that i of course have to say thank you.

but i don’t know what i feel right now, whether i’m depressed or scared or just emotional because mercury is retrograde. and i don’t like that. i don’t blame you for this, i don’t blame anyone really. for this isn’t even dependence, just an emotional connection to someone who really changed me.

so its this feeling bad? is it good? is it the universe? i don’t know. all i know is that for the foreseeable future i can’t even think about replacing you, because there’s a difference between moving on and moving forward. and though i may be able to close my eyes and move on without you here, i don’t think i can move past you.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Of Kings and Beasts  -  Ten

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Angst, Injuries, Fluff, Language, Violence, 

Word Count: 2K

A/n: Okay y’all THANK YOU AGAIN SO MUCH FOR 10K FOLLOWERS IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MCUH OMG Anyway ahem here is part 10 and I hope you enjoy! We’re gonna have a more intense part coming next but until then, enjoy!

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Series Masterlist

“We make for Asgard.”

~*~

“You look lovely. The colours of Asgard suit you well,” Thor says, his eyes raking over your figure from behind.

Adorning your body is a soft linen gown, the colour of cream. It is cut low in the front, a style Thor assured you is common in his kingdom, and has many different folds and layers to it, making it flow with every step you take.

The fabric itself is lightweight, and the straps lie thinly on your shoulders. The waistline is decorated with gleaming golden gems and is cinched rather tightly.

Over your shoulders is a dark red cape, the same colour as Thor’s.

Your hair is tied up away from your face intricately and elegantly, and a dainty diamond necklace rests around your neck.

You turn to face him, a deep feeling of unease settling in your stomach.

“What is to happen now?” You wonder aloud, eyes fluttering past his face and around the chambers that he’s deemed to be yours for the time being.

“Now we wait. The kings should be here soon, and then we will inform them of the letter you received. I promise you’ll be safe here, Petal.” He cups your cheeks and you swallow hard, nervous about the change in his attitude towards you.

“Thor?” You ask softly, taking a half-step backward in an attempt at removing yourself from his grip.

He surges forward, one hand dropping from your face to wrap around your waist as his lips crash against yours in a fierce and dominating kiss.

Your heart races in your chest and you shove against his face, trying to force him away from you.

Helplessness fills you as you realize that you’ll never be able to overpower him, and dread settles in your gut as he pushes you back until you’re pressed against the wall.

Your muffled cries for help, for him to stop, fall on deaf ears as his lips continue their assault against yours, prying yours open to give his tongue access to your mouth.

Thinking quick, you grip his bottom lip and bite down as hard as you can, drawing blood and successfully making him pull away from you.

He jumps back, one hand coming up to his mouth while you scramble back and away from him, chest heaving and eyes full of betrayal.

His jaw clenches and he takes a step towards you, only to stop when the doors to your chambers burst open.

“(Y/n)!” A familiar voice calls, two men rushing into the room and searching for you.

The tension in the room is palpable and the two Kings pick up on it instantly, their guards raising as they see the way you’re cowering from the blond King before you.

“Are we interrupting something?” Steve asks, his voice ringing with authority.

“No,” you say quickly, regaining your composure and squaring your shoulders as the words of the Valkyrie ring in your ears.

“Thor was just taking his leave,” you say pointedly, staring the King down for a long moment until he nods, bows then spins on his heel and leaves without a word.

You take a deep breath, power and fear chasing each other through your veins while your heart races in your chest.

“(Y/n), are you alright?” Steve asks softly, taking a step towards you and reaching for your hand. You yank it back towards your body, levelling him with a glare.

“If my purpose was solely to bear children, then why are you here if I failed?” The blond glances over at his husband, unsure of how he should address this.

“It is obviously not a secret. I have been threatened even since my departure, and the truth has been brought to my attention. So I ask again, why are you here?” James takes a careful step towards you, and then another, and another until he is standing just directly in front of you.

You keep your shoulders squared and your head held high, refusing to back down.

“(Y/n), there are things we must tell you... things we have not been completely honest about... things that involve our union, and our actions towards you. Will you allow us time to be honest with you?” You swallow hard but nod, wanting nothing more than the truth after all this time in the dark.

James takes your hand delicately in both of his and ushers you to the bed, sitting down beside you while Steve sits on your other side.

The brunet speaks first.

“We were told... by our council that we needed to find a wife. When they heard of our plans to join the two kingdoms of the North and wed each other... they tried to find any way to stop it. But upon seeing our power they relented until they realized that our reign would end if we did not have a queen.

“They gave us a timeframe to find a queen. One that could give us heirs and continue the lineage of both of us. We were presented with many women but you... you stood out from the many faces we saw.”

You frown, brows drawn together tightly as you ponder this.

“My purpose... right from the beginning was nothing more than what you had told me. What you said was true. What I was told is nothing but the truth,” you whisper to James, fighting back the tears that prick at your eyes.

Steve shakes his head, leaning closer to engage in the conversation. “No. Your purpose was... is to be our wife. A queen to our people and the mother of our children. You are meant to rule alongside us, not be behind or beneath us. You are our equal, although we have not treated you as such.”

You sniffle, shaking your head as if trying to shake your feelings away.

“Why have you treated me the way that you have? Why? What have I done to deserve such hostility?”

The two exchange long glances before James sighs and takes your hand, leading it to the thin scar at the base of his skull.

“Someone has operated on me. Altered me in a way that makes me hostile towards you and Steven. We do not know who, but we know that they are close enough to be near me without raising suspicion. I will never be able to apologize enough for my actions. I have hurt you far more than I ever could have imagined myself capable of. But with the help of doctor Banner, we were hoping to have more clues as to who is responsible for this. However, he is still in quite an unstable condition.”

You swallow hard, this new information having you beyond overwhelmed.

“Who would conspire against you in such a way? Who would have such hatred in their heart for the two of you that they would take it out on me?” The two kings sigh, their hearts heavy and their eyes filled with sadness.

“We do not know. But one thing is certain: we will not rest until we figure out who it is and until they are brought to justice.”

~*~

The two Kings settle in the guest chambers for the night, having insisted that you get your own space and that you are welcome to join them if you feel so inclined.

Your mind is still in shambles, thoughts scattered and emotions all over the continent as you prepare for bed.

A knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts and you softly call for them to enter, your guard raising in an instant.

“How may I help you, Your Majesty?” You ask, jaw clenched tightly.

Thor takes a deep breath then lets it out, pacing slowly around your chambers.

“I stepped very far out of line, (Y/n). I let my emotions get the better of me and I was foolish. I apologize sincerely for my actions.” You watch him with furrowed brows, not sure if you should trust him.

“You have... entranced me. Bewitched me. Your husbands have not treated you fairly and, even in the short time that I've known you, I can tell that you are a woman deserving of the world. And if the world cannot be given to you then you deserve everything in it. And yet here you are, cowering from your own kingdom because they failed to protect you.” You want to interrupt. To tell him that he is not aware of the extent of the trauma that the Kings themselves have faced, but you hold your tongue instead.

“I can only hope that one day you will be able to forgive what has transpired today. For I value your company and your companionship and I would be devastated to lose it in any way. However, I will not blame you if you were to push me away. I was out of line and I allowed myself to be weak in a moment when I should have been strong. You needn’t give me an answer tonight, but I am offering my sincerest apologies. While you are here the Palace is yours. Anything you require will be brought to you promptly.”

He’s quiet for a moment before clearing his throat, his eyes on the ground.

“I bid thee goodnight, and I hope pleasant dreams find you tonight.” He turns to leave and you sigh, shaking your head.

“Thor, wait.” He does, turning back to look at you with those soft blue eyes of his.

“I appreciate and accept your apology. I do not look at you any differently because of what transpired, and I am grateful that you came to explain it. I appreciate your friendship and I am glad to have found solace in you, and it would be a shame to squander it over something so trivial.” He smiles, relief and happiness plain as day on his face.

“Good. Thank you for your understanding, (Y/n). Goodnight.” He leaves without another word and you put your head in your hands, beyond confused and frustrated with the feelings stirring inside of you.

You would be lying if you said that the Asgardian King wasn’t attractive. And he has been a friend in times when you’ve otherwise had none.

Shaking the intrusive thoughts out of your head, you exit your chambers and pad softly down the hall, stopping in front of the chambers that have been set aside for your husbands.

You knock twice, butterflies finding a home in your belly as you wait for one of them to allow you entrance.

The door gets pulled open and James stands in front of you, the formal look on his face dropping to give way to a soft smile.

“May I join the two of you tonight?” You ask quietly, looking between him and Steve. The blond looks on eagerly from his spot on the bed, nodding his head quickly.

“Of course, My love.” You bow your head in thanks and enter the room, oblivious to the eyes following your every move from a dark corner of the hallway.

The door shuts behind you but you continue to the bed, crawling on next to Steve while James extinguishes the lanterns lighting the room.

Steve makes room for you in the centre of the bed, pushing the blankets aside to allow you to get comfortable. James climbs on behind you, waiting until you’re settled to get comfortable himself.

Neither of the Kings touch you. No, they stay a respectable distance away.

“I am not so angry that I will not allow my husbands to embrace me,” you say softly, eyes closed as the events of the day catch up to you.

You’re then being held on either side by strong arms and right then and there, in that very moment, you feel the safest you have ever felt in your life.

[tennessoui]

You know one of my favorite Star Wars fic tropes? Evil, feral Anakin being horribly mistreated his whole life and hurt, and then being comforted and nursed back to health by Obi-Wan. And instantly imprinting on him, like, in a "I will kill anyone for you" way. Could be any Obi-Wan! Nice Obi-Wan for that sweet sweet hurt/comfort and kisses and turning Anakin from his murderous ways with the power of kindness! Evil Obi-Wan for sweet double trouble action and delicious obsession with each other!!

this is also one of my favorite star wars tropes!!! i love a needlessly protective and feral Anakin who distrusts everyone except for Obi-Wan.

unfortunately. um. this went a little sideways. and there is no being nursed back to health. but there's some delicious obsession and protectiveness and also future mutual obsession so i'm counting the prompt fill as like 3.5 out of 5 stars for following the prompt, which is. let's be honest, higher than most of my prompt fills. this is a bit dark and contains references to mind tricks, but there is no sex or kissing that could be construed as dub con. just like. dub con emotions i guess

(2.2k)

Quinlan has that look in his eyes, as if he’s about to say something that he knows Obi-Wan won’t like.

Carefully, Obi-Wan puts down his cup of tea and laces together his fingers in his lap. He can already feel a seed of anger blooming inside of him. Since Anakin has re-entered his life and the Temple, he’s found that this deep, swirling rage is harder to give to the Force. And easier to feel at a moment’s notice.

Like almost all the differences in his life now, this can be put on Anakin through no fault of the boy’s own.

After all, Obi-Wan thinks to himself, it is much easier to feel this sort of fury at the galaxy’s injustices when living with someone who has suffered most all of the most grievous kinds.

“Just say it, Quinlan.” Obi-Wan says.

Vos clears his throat. “Where is...your charge?”

“My charge,” he repeats, unimpressed. “You know his name.”

“I know both of his names,” Quinlan fires back. “Does he prefer Anakin or Vader?”

The anger inside of him grows larger at the mention of Vader. As if Anakin would ever prefer the name Sidious gave to him. As if he had chosen it for himself.

As if the Jedi had played no part in the birth of Vader.

“Anakin is asleep,” is all Obi-Wan says.

Quinlan makes a show of peering down the hallway of Obi-Wan’s quarters to the two closed bedroom doors. “In whose bed?”

His hands tighten into fists beneath the table. “That is a bold accusation to make.”

“Why?” his old friend’s posture is forcibly casual, slumped in his seat and hand loosely wrapped around his cup. Obi-Wan wonders if this is how he looks when he’s undercover on missions. The thought settles heavily into his stomach and makes him sit up straighter. If this is a mission to Quinlan Vos, then what is his objective? What does he want with Obi-Wan?

With Anakin?

“The boy’s legally allowed to spread his legs for anyone he wants, Obi-Wan. He's nineteen and everything.”

Obi-Wan can feel his teeth grind together. The fury in his chest is building at an alarmingly fast rate. The thought of anyone touching Anakin like that when the boy’s so obviously traumatized and in need of a tender hand--if he were a lesser Jedi, he’d snarl at Vos to leave.

“Any consent Anakin offers anyone would be dubious at best,” he snaps. “He is nineteen, but he has spent the past ten years of his life being tortured and enslaved by Darth Sidious.”

Quinlan narrows his eyes and looks over Obi-Wan’s face. “That’s not your fault,” he finally says quietly, leaning forward as if to grip his arm before he thinks better of it. “Obi-Wan, listen to me. What happened to Anakin is tragic. Awful. Despicable. But it is not your fault.”

Obi-Wan looks away, his jaw clenched tightly before he forces himself to relax. “I only blame myself for not verifying what I was told.”

“Do you blame the Jedi Council then? For sending the boy away?”

“My master begged me to train the boy, Vos. And while I was in the Halls of Healing, they sent him back to Tatooine. And no one ever checked to make sure he got there. Sidious grabbed him because we--because they allowed him to. And then spent ten years torturing and breaking down a child right under our very noses! Who would you blame, Vos?”

“Sidious,” the other man answers easily. “The Council had no way of knowing that Sidious even knew about the boy, that he was in any danger at all--”

“He was nine!” Obi-Wan roars, slamming a fist on the table, unable to swallow the dark, heavy fury anymore. “He was a child. A slave! They were going to send him back there!”

“To his mother!”

“To his chains,” Obi-Wan corrects fiercely.

Vos purses his lips and crosses his arms. “He is not a child anymore, Obi-Wan. He’s a killer. He’s dangerous. It’s worrying to me that you can’t see it. Or don’t want to see it.”

Obi-Wan wants to scoff. Anakin Skywalker is not dangerous. The boy gets night terrors, begs to be let into Obi-Wan’s bed, and can only sleep if he’s being cuddled up against his chest. He holds his blasted hand in public because he’s terrified of being separated from Obi-Wan again. He’s refused to even touch his lightsaber since the first night Obi-Wan stumbled upon him, bleeding in one of the lower levels of Coruscant. There are some days he won’t even let Obi-Wan touch him to hold him, and he shakes apart in the shadowy corner of his closet, reliving traumas Obi-Wan can’t help him with.

Dangerous. Dangerous.

“No, Obi-Wan, come on. You have to see. The boy’s turning you against the Jedi, against the Council!” “He doesn't need to," Obi-Wan says coldly. "The Jedi seem to be doing a fine job of that themselve."

“That's what I'm talking about!” Vos exclaims, waving an incensed hand. “The Obi-Wan Kenobi I knew would never say that! He would never think a bad thing about the Order, let alone say it! Let alone threaten to leave in the middle of a war if the Council didn’t grant him permission to keep the boy in his rooms! People talk, Obi-Wan! They’re not being kind!”

A thought bubbles up in Obi-Wan’s mind, vicious and sharp. Obi-Wan should not expect kindness from the Jedi. Not about Anakin. Everything they’ve ever done to and said about the boy proves that. Obi-Wan would have to abandon Anakin again to ensure the Council’s kindness and trust in him.

Obi-Wan would rather die than abandon the boy now when he needs him so obviously. He’d rather Fall than turn his back on Anakin, even if that’s what it took to stay in the Order.

“I think you should leave, Vos,” Obi-Wan murmurs quietly. “I think there is little left to say.”

His old friend stares at him from across the table in shock before he stands up without another word. At the door to his quarters, he freezes but doesn’t turn around. “You are attached, Obi-Wan. The Jedi Council will not stand for it. They will not allow it to continue.”

There’s something off with his voice, but Obi-Wan is too concerned with what he’s said to focus on anything else. “What do you mean?” he asks sharply, springing to his feet.

But Vos just shakes his head and leaves.

Obi-Wan collapses back into his seat as the door slides shut behind the man, his head buzzing with thoughts. That had sounded like a warning. Would the Council be so bold, so cruel, as to separate Obi-Wan and Anakin forcefully?

Yes, the thought flashes across his mind, followed by a swell of fury.

And then there’s a sleepy little questioning tug on the bond stretching between him and Anakin. His charge must have just woken up and found Obi-Wan still missing.

Obi-Wan tugs back, helpless against the urge to comfort Anakin. The bond explodes in a tidal wave of joy, the way it always does when Obi-Wan uses their illicit connection to communicate. He hadn’t in the early days, too afraid of the Council and the Code to do something so forbidden.

Now he cannot seem to muster enough regard for the Jedi to care. It is nice to feel Anakin in his mind, where he belongs. Where he’s always belonged.

---

In the bedroom that Obi-Wan keeps on insisting is not theirs, Vader allows his eyes to open as he slips out of meditation. He had been too forceful there at the end with Vos, fed him the exact words he needed him to tell his new master.

That sort of mind trick is too sloppy and easily discovered. It is much harder to trace emotional manipulation, especially over time. He’s been doing it for months now, the Jedis’ mental shields no match for his raw power trained to be sharp as a vibroblade.

It’s all just been a matter of slowly strengthening the other Jedis’ already existing mistrust and doubt about him, all the while crying to Obi-Wan about his past and his fears. It served to highlight the Jedi hypocrisy to his new master, and when he felt that first seed of anger grow in Kenobi’s mind, he encouraged it to grow faster.

The downside, of course, has been that Obi-Wan sees him as a scared child in need of protection. Vader is working on that too though, lengthening the touches they share and letting his shields fall at inopportune moments, like when he’s playing with himself in the fresher, so his master understands that Vader is capable of bringing him pleasure of all kinds.

It’s very important Obi-Wan understands that he can get everything he needs from Vader alone. There will be no one else, for either of them.

Sidious will die soon. The Jedi will die sooner. Vader and Obi-Wan can take their proper place, as Emperors of the Galaxy.

After Obi-Wan falls, of course.

It won’t take long now though.

Joy at the thought of one day looking into Obi-Wan’s golden eyes pushes Vader out of their bed and into the common area. He rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand a few times, and then it’s Anakin who’s crossing the space separating him from his master so he can settle in Obi-Wan’s lap.

Obi-Wan accepts him into his arms immediately, and Anakin has to fight the urge to smile in victory as he squirms in an attempt to get comfortable, only stopping when he’s straddling his master, sitting directly over his cock.

He wraps his arms around his master’s neck and buries his face in the juncture between his shoulder and throat.

Feeling daring, he licks slightly at the skin there, just to feel the way Obi-Wan’s hands tighten on his hips. “Missed you,” he murmurs, inhaling greedily.

Nothing in the entire universe smells as good as Obi-Wan, holds Anakin as gently as Obi-Wan, cares as much about him as Obi-Wan does.

He’d kill everyone in the galaxy for his master, if it was asked of him. He wouldn’t even think twice about it. And one day, soon, his master will feel the same.

Especially when his pesky Order has been dealt with, an execution order stamped with Sidious’ name. The only good thing his old master has ever given him.

The Jedi will die, Anakin will be blameless, and Obi-Wan will be safe from harm’s way. That’s why he’d had to push Vos so messily at the end there. Obi-Wan needs to be safe before the planned Order #66, and there’s no telling what Sidious will do now that Anakin has escaped.

“I heard voices,” he prompts, when Obi-Wan seems content to just sit silently and trace shapes on the bare skin of his back.

Obi-Wan hums. “Yes,” he admits. “An...old friend came to visit.”

Anakin bites gently at the skin of Obi-Wan’s throat and pulls back enough to make eye contact. He doesn’t know if his eyes are blue or gold right now, but either way Obi-Wan seems entranced by them. Riveted.

He pouts. “Your old friends never stay around long enough to meet me,” he says with a tremble in his voice, as if he cares about Obi-Wan’s old friends.

Obi-Wan reaches a hand up and thumbs over Anakin’s bottom lip. Anakin holds his breath. It’ll ruin everything if he sucks at it right now, despite how much he’s craving to map the whorls with his tongue.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan breathes out, and Anakin changes his grasp so he’s now holding tightly to the front of his robes. “I must tell you something you may not want to hear.”

The Dark inside of him roars and snarls at this statement. If Obi-Wan has decided to make him leave, Anakin will not go quietly. Anakin will kill the entire Jedi Order himself, until this glowing angel--so warm, so bright in the Force--only has him.

“The Council will try to take you away from me,” his master murmurs.

Anakin makes his eyes go round and wet. It’s not even that much of an act: he just has to think of Obi-Wan agreeing with his stupid Council, and suddenly he’s appropriately tearful and afraid.

“No, no, Anakin, don’t cry,” his master croons, grasping the back of his neck and touching their foreheads together. Then, in a firmer tone, he says the words Anakin has been waiting to here for months. “I will not let that happen. We must leave the Order. I’m sorry, dear one. I can only imagine how much you wanted this place to be your home.”

Anakin has to rip his head out of Obi-Wan’s grasp and bury it in his neck so his dear master can’t see his smirk. Oh, Obi-Wan. The man may never understand that the only thing Anakin wants is already holding him tightly against his chest.

But Anakin will remind him. Anakin will remind him for the rest of his life.

“When do we leave?” Anakin whimpers, wondering if he’s overdoing it slightly, but Obi-Wan’s grip on his back only tightens.

When Obi-Wan speaks, his voice doesn’t waver at all. There’s not a single shred of indecision in his force signature either. “Tonight,” his master says, brushing a barely there kiss against the crown of his head. “We leave tonight.”

Vader smiles in bliss and burrows impossibly further into his master’s arms, nipping at his master’s skin again, just because he knows he will not be pushed away. This is the safest place in the galaxy, and now it will be his forever.

Victory tastes sweet. Obi-Wan’s skin tastes even sweeter.