#feel no pressure to actually do this if i tagged you

[eu-nicola]

the finish line part 4

and final - part 1 part 2 part 3

summary: you are the girlfriend of Lando Norris, Max Verstappen's rival with whom the tension between the two is undeniable.

warnings: nothing

word counter: 4264

author's note: english is not my first language

tags: @a-beaverhausen @maluzets55

The last few days of vacation had been anything but peaceful. It wasn't just Max's attention that weighed on you, but also the curious glances of others. Every time you went out, whether alone or in company, you felt like everyone was watching you, as if they suspected something beyond what was evident. Although you tried to remain indifferent, the pressure was beginning to affect you.

Max, for his part, seemed to handle everything with the same confidence with which he drove on the track. However, not even he could escape the public eye. When the vacation finally ended and the drivers returned to their routines, the questions at the press conferences began to take on a more personal tone. Instead of focusing solely on his recent championship, the journalists wanted to know more about his life off the track.

"Max, after your victory, you were seen celebrating intensely. Can you tell us more about that?" asked one of the reporters with an insinuating smile.

Max, sitting with his usual confident expression, just raised an eyebrow. “I celebrated like any champion would. It was a special moment for me and my team. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

The answer was direct, but not enough to divert attention. Another journalist intervened, this time with an even more incisive tone.

“There has been a lot of talk about a certain company during those celebrations. Any statement on that?”

Max smiled, although his eyes showed a glint of irritation. “My private life is just that: private. I’m here to talk about racing, not rumors.”

While Max dealt with the media pressure, you faced your own battles. Social media had become a minefield. Comments about you began to appear, some insinuating that you were too close to Max, others criticizing you for not always being by Lando’s side at the most important moments. There were those who said you were seeking attention, that you liked drama. The words hurt more than you wanted to admit. You tried to ignore them, but it was hard when every time you opened your phone there was something new waiting for you.

Lando, oddly enough, seemed to enjoy it all from a distance. Even though he had been your boyfriend for so long, his attitude was almost indifferent.

“What did you expect?” he said to you one night while you were talking on the phone because he had called you. “You’re in the public eye now. This is what happens. You should get used to it.”

His tone was so carefree that it infuriated you. Get used to it? To people questioning your loyalty, your feelings? While you dealt with the pressure, he seemed to enjoy his freedom, attending events and meetings without worrying about what they said about him.

“You know what, Lando? It would be easier if you at least seemed to care a little because you caused all of this,” you finally blurted out, your voice thick with frustration.

“I do,” he replied with a sigh. “But I also know that you can’t control what people say.”

The conversation ended, but it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Max, on the other hand, seemed ever-present, even if it was silent. You knew that if you texted him, he would respond immediately. But after everything that had happened, you resisted.

One afternoon, though, after a particularly rough day on social media, your phone buzzed with a message from him.

“How are you? I’ve seen what’s going on online. Don’t let it get to you. People always have something to say.”

His message was simple, but comforting. For a moment, you felt like you weren’t alone in all of this, that someone actually understood what you were going through.

The days followed, each bringing their own set of challenges. You tried to focus on your own things, but it was impossible to completely escape the whirlwind that had formed around you.

The weight of exposure began to become more than just an inconvenience; it felt like a constant burden you couldn’t let go of. Every time you opened your phone, every notification, every comment, every message seemed to add a new layer of self-doubt and anxiety. No matter how hard you tried to focus on your own life, your own projects, the shadow of social media and criticism was still there, haunting you.

One night, as you sat on the bed in your hotel room in Spain, you stared at your reflection in the dead screen of your phone. How had you gotten to this point? What had once been exciting—standing next to one of Formula 1’s most promising drivers—now felt like endless exposure to judgment and misunderstanding. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to breathe deeply, but even the air felt heavy.

You and Lando had officially broken up a few weeks ago. It had been an inevitable breakup, a step you both knew you had to take. There were no big arguments, no shouting, just a mutual recognition that things were no longer the same. Lando, for his part, seemed to have moved on without looking back. His social media showed photos of him at events, smiling with friends, enjoying his uncomplicated life. And you... you felt trapped in limbo.

Your relationship with Max, on the other hand, was in uncertain territory. There were no clear words, no labels that could define what you had, but there was something palpable between you both. Every message from him, every look, every conversation was imbued with a latent tension, a connection that seemed to go beyond the physical. You were on the verge of something, and you both knew it.

Your phone vibrated on the nightstand, breaking the silence of the room. You took it without looking, half expecting another critical message or a sensational article, but seeing Max's name on the screen, something in your chest momentarily eased.

Max: "Are you okay? I saw Lando uploaded something new, but he didn't mention anything about you. Do you need to talk?"

For a moment, you stared at the message. How did he always know when you were at your limit? You didn't know if it made you happy or upset. With shaking fingers, you started to type a reply, but you deleted the words before sending them. You didn't want to seem weak, even though deep down you knew Max was probably the only person at the moment who could understand what you were going through.

Minutes later, another message came through.

Max: "I'm here if you need to vent. You don't have to carry it all alone."

That simple statement broke down your defenses. You felt tears build up in your eyes, but you refused to let them out. You had endured so much, trying to be strong, but the emotional exhaustion was too much. You finally wrote:

You: “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Max. It all feels too much… The pressure, the comments, the exposure. Sometimes I feel like I’m falling apart.”

Max’s response was not long in coming.

Max: “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You’re stronger than you think, but I understand that this is all a lot. I want to see you. Let me help you carry this.”

Your heart was pounding as you read his words. There was something about his way of saying things that always managed to calm the storm inside you. The thought of seeing him, of being able to talk face to face, felt like a necessary balm. But there was also fear. Fear of what it would mean to take that step, to cross a line that already seemed so tenuous.

After a long silence, you finally wrote:

You: “I’m not ready for everything that comes with this, Max. But I want to see you too."

A little while later, you received a call. It was him. You hesitated for a moment before answering, but finally swiped your finger across the screen.

"I knew you would answer," Max said in his calm, confident tone. "I'm going to Spain this weekend. Because of you."

"Max, I don't know if that's a good idea," you whispered, though your voice betrayed your true feelings.

“It is,” he replied without hesitation. “Because this isn’t just pressure or exposure. It’s about us, about who we are when no one else is looking.”

His words resonated with you. Maybe you didn’t have to face it all alone after all.

The weekend came quicker than you expected. Max had kept his word and was in Spain, ready to see you. The first time you met him was in the lobby of your hotel. He was dressed in his usual laid-back style: a simple t-shirt and jeans, but there was something about his presence that always managed to capture your full attention.

When his blue eyes met yours, the air seemed to stand still for a moment. Max walked toward you with a determined stride, without any hesitation. Before you could say anything, he wrapped you in a firm hug, one that offered not only comfort, but also a silent promise: You are not alone.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice deep but gentle. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

You stayed in his arms for what seemed like an eternity. All the weight you had been carrying, all the pressure, slowly began to fade away. When you finally pulled away, Max looked at you with an intensity that made you feel seen, completely.

“Max…” you began, but he shook his head before you could continue.

“I don’t want you to worry anymore about what people say. We don’t owe them anything,” he stated, his tone firm. “Let me carry some of this burden with you. I won’t let outside pressure get to us, I won’t let this tear us apart.”

The determination in his voice made you feel a strange mix of relief and apprehension. You had been so used to dealing with everything alone that the idea of ​​allowing someone else to carry some of your worries seemed almost foreign to you. But Max wasn’t just anyone. There was something about the way he spoke, the way he was present, that gave you a security you didn’t even know you needed.

“What if we can’t handle it?” You asked, letting out one of your biggest insecurities.

Max took your hands, his fingers intertwining with yours. “We can,” he replied with unwavering conviction. “Do you know how many times I’ve been told I couldn’t accomplish something? Every time I’ve gotten in the car, I’ve had to prove them wrong. This is no different. We’re no different.”

His words stayed with you, offering a hope you hadn’t allowed to blossom until now. The idea of ​​facing all of this with him, together, suddenly didn’t seem so impossible.

For the rest of the day, Max remained by your side. Every time you saw a phone being raised to take a photo or heard a murmur as you passed, Max squeezed your hand lightly, as if reminding you that it didn’t matter what the world thought. He was there, with you.

That night, as you both sat in your room, Max leaned back on the couch, watching you with a calm smile.

"You know, as much as I love winning championships, being here with you feels like a different victory," he said, his tone lighter now.

“I didn’t know you had such a romantic side,” you joked, trying to lighten the tension in your chest.

“Only for you,” he replied, his gaze sincere. “And if you let me, I’ll prove it to you every day.”

You couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in weeks, you felt safe.

Days had turned into weeks, and your relationship with Max seemed to grow deeper with every moment shared. He was your refuge, your calm in the midst of the storm that continued to rage on social media and in the media. Yet as hard as you tried to stay strong, the persistent criticism was beginning to wear you down. Every article speculating about your life, every cruel comment you unintentionally encountered, made you feel more vulnerable.

The stress was building up. There were nights when you could barely sleep, your mind stuck in an endless cycle of questions and doubts. Was it all worth it? Could you continue to face constant scrutiny? Even though Max was doing his best to reassure you that you were in this together, a part of you was starting to wonder if it would be better for both of you if you stepped away.

One night, after a long day where Max had had multiple media engagements, you found yourself alone in the hotel room in Bahrain where you had flown to join him. The city lights shone through the windows, but they offered no comfort. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you stared at your phone. Notifications kept coming in: messages, social media mentions, articles with sensational headlines.

You sighed and turned off the screen, setting the phone aside. You couldn’t go on like this.

When Max returned, the first thing he noticed was your expression. He immediately came over, sitting next to you. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You looked up at him, and in that moment, the words began to come out unfiltered. “I don’t know if I can go through with this, Max. The pressure, the media, the comments… It feels like I’m losing control of my life.”

He frowned, his eyes reflecting both understanding and frustration. “I knew this was hard for you, but you don’t have to face it alone. I’m here, and you know that.”

“I know, Max,” you replied, a lump in your throat. “But I can’t help but feel like by being with you, I’m only making things worse. I don’t want to be a burden on you, or your career.”

Max took your hands, his grip firm but comforting. “You’ll never be a burden on me. And if you think walking away will solve anything, you’re wrong. People will always talk, no matter what we do.”

“What if I decide to walk away?” you asked quietly, fearing his reaction.

Max took a deep breath, processing your words. “If that’s what you need to feel better, I’ll respect that,” he finally said, though his voice betrayed his internal struggle. “But I want you to know that I’d rather face this hell with you, than be without you.”

His words brought tears to your eyes. He always found a way to break down your defenses. But the doubt was still there, fueled by fear and insecurity.

That night, as Max slept beside you, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The decision to walk away wasn’t easy, but perhaps it was the only thing that could bring you some peace. Could you give up what you had to protect yourself? Or could you find a way to endure together, like he wished?

The night progressed slowly and silently. Even though Max slept beside you, you lay awake, caught in a whirlwind of thoughts. The dim glow of the city dimly illuminated the room, but offered no comfort. You turned slightly, watching Max's relaxed face as he slept. There was something almost innocent about his expression, a calmness that contrasted with the storm inside you.

You tried to close your eyes, but the weight of your doubts was still present. You didn't know how much time passed before you felt a slight movement beside you. Opening your eyes, you realized that Max was also awake now. His blue eyes, still heavy with sleep, looked at you with a mix of concern and tenderness.

"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly, his tone laden with a care that only he could offer at this hour of the morning.

You shook your head, unable to find the words. Max sat up slightly, propping himself up on one elbow as he watched you closely.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" he insisted, gently caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

You took a deep breath, trying to contain the flood of emotions. But his eyes kept searching you, offering a reassurance that only he could provide. Finally, you decided to speak up.

“Max, I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “This whole world, the constant attention. And the last thing I want is for it to affect you, too.”

Max remained silent for a moment, processing your words. Then, he sat up fully, turning to face you.

“You know something?” he began, his tone firmer now. “Ever since I started in this sport, I’ve always been surrounded by people who admire me for what I do on the track. People who celebrate my victories and forget about me as soon as the season is over. But you… you’re different.”

You were surprised by the intensity of his words, and he continued before you could respond.

"You're the only person who truly sees me, beyond the driver, beyond the titles and the races. With you, I can be myself. I don't have to prove anything, I don't have to win to feel like I'm worth something. And that, to me, is everything."

Your heart skipped a beat, and Max moved a little closer, taking your hands in his.

"Without you," he said with an honesty that took your breath away, "this all becomes meaningless. Every time I cross the finish line, every trophy I lift, even before you were with me, before Lando stole you from me... it wouldn't mean anything if you weren't there for me."

The tears you'd been holding back began to fall silently, but Max didn't look away. Instead, he squeezed your hands tighter, as if to assure you that he wasn't going to let you go.

"I need you by my side," he confessed. “Not just because of what we share, but because you are my balance. You are the person who reminds me why I do what I do, and who I really am when everything else shuts down.”

You stayed silent, letting his words sink in. You had underestimated how important you were to him, how much you meant beyond the insecurities and doubts that plagued you. Seeing him like this, so vulnerable and honest, made you realize something: you weren’t alone in this. It wasn’t just your struggle; it was both of ours.

“Max…” you began, your voice shaking slightly. “I need you too. But this is all so hard. I don’t want the pressure to destroy us.”

“It won’t,” he replied determinedly. “Together we are stronger. It doesn’t matter what people say, what they think. The only thing that matters is what you and I feel. And I feel like we can handle this. If you’re willing to try, I’m not going to let anything or anyone tear us apart.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and hope. Max pulled you close to him, wrapping you in a warm, protective embrace. You stayed like that for a long moment, finding comfort in each other's closeness.

The next day was not really just any other day, after weeks of preparation and nerves, the first race of the year was finally here. Nerves ran through the paddock, and the usual bustle of competition filled the air, but there was something different this time. You had come, as always, to support Max, but this time you would do so in an even more visible way, closer to him than ever.

Max, with his relaxed but focused attitude, was ready to prove that, despite the rumors and criticism, nothing could stop him. He had told you about how he wanted to start the season with a win, not just for himself, but also to show the world that he was at his best, that nothing the media said or speculated could tarnish his success. He looked at you before getting into the car, his eyes shining with fierce determination, but also with a special warmth just for you.

The race was action-packed, as you would expect. Max stuck to his strategy, fighting for every position with that mix of precision and bravery that characterized him. Every lap was a mix of excitement and anxiety, not just for him, but for you, who were watching from the pits. You knew how much this victory meant to him, and as you watched him outpace each opponent, the tension took hold of you.

Finally, the checkered flag fell, and Max crossed the finish line in first place. The sound of the engine fading as he celebrated the victory made your heart skip a beat. As soon as the race was over, all eyes turned to him: the champion, the favorite, the icon.

You ran to him as soon as you could see him, where you found him surrounded by his team. You couldn’t help but smile in happiness for him, but also at the feeling that, in that moment, everything that had happened between you had come to this point, to this victory. When Max saw you in the crowd, his face lit up. There were no words needed; he just ran to you, wrapping you in a hug so tight you almost felt like he was lifting you off the ground.

After the anthems and champagne, trophy in hand, Max stepped up to the camera for an interview that was, of course, going to be broadcast live. What happened next surprised everyone. Instead of going on with the typical answers about the race, Max took a moment, with a smile full of pride, to talk about you.

"I want to dedicate this win to someone very special," he began, his words laden with sincerity. "To my amazing partner, who has been with me through the toughest times, when I needed it the most. I want everyone to know that without her, this win wouldn't have the same meaning. She is my support, my strength, and my love."

Your heart was pounding, but what touched you the most was his next statement.

“She’s the person who makes me feel the happiest I’ve ever been, and I can’t imagine my life without her. My love, you’re the love of my life.”

The cameras focused on your face, and even though a torrent of emotions washed over you, you couldn’t help but smile shyly, a little embarrassed by the sudden attention, but deeply grateful for his very public support. Max hadn’t just won a race; he’d done something much bigger: he’d opened his heart in front of millions of people.

The moment became more intense when the crowd applauded, and some began to cheer for you as well. Even though you knew that not all of Max’s fans would be happy with his statement, something in the air had changed. The media had tried to paint you in many ways, but in that instant, it didn’t matter. Max’s victory, the way he had publicly defended you, was a clear message: you were together, no matter what anyone said.

As the days passed, something unexpected happened. Amidst the criticism and speculation, you began to notice a change. The comments started to become kinder. At first, some of Max's most loyal followers were still hesitant, but as time went by, their support for you began to grow. Photos of the two of you, the photos that Max shared of you, in which you looked so happy and peaceful together, began to appear on fans' profiles, and words of support began to outweigh the criticism.

You were surprised to see how many people were willing to embrace your relationship, to understand that behind the image of a successful driver, there was a real person, someone who also had the right to be happy and to love. Some of the fans, even the most skeptical, began to comment positively on the posts, talking about how beautiful you looked together, how genuine your relationship was.

One night, after a race, while you were sharing a quiet moment with Max, you received a message from one of Max's most loyal followers. They said something simple but profound: “We are glad to see you so happy with Max. You deserve all the good that is to come.”

That night, as you went to bed, Max came to you, smiling with that familiar calm, and whispered in your ear: “See? The rumors don’t matter anymore. What really matters is what we have built together.”

And finally, after so much effort, so much sacrifice, you knew that you were both ready to face the future, not just as a couple, but as an unstoppable team. Together. And perhaps in the future, as a family.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Shy One

Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this and this

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: a night out ends in an embarrassing encounter.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

It feels like you’re seeing the world through tinted glass. The low lights, the buzz of voices, and the subtle clink of glasses feed the haze around you. That and the cocktail in your hand. Just ice now. Your second. You’re surprised how easily it went down. 

“Want another?” Mikayla asks as you play with the thin straw. 

“Maybe not yet,” you shrug. 

She grins at Alina, “lightweight?” 

The other women laugh. You’re too embarrassed to admit it but you are. In fact, it’s the first time you’ve ever tasted alcohol. If they don’t mock you for confessing, they wouldn’t believe you. 

“So happy you came out,” Katy grins. 

“Yeah, too bad you didn’t make the work mixer last month,” Lu says. 

“Hm, yeah, I just... I couldn’t make it,” you chew your lip. 

“Mmm, Mik,” Katy purrs, “you seeing what I’m seeing?” 

Katy tilts her head and Mikayla follows her gaze. Alina and Lu do the same and you dare to peek after them. There’s a table of men across the bar. There timbre forms a dulcet drone amid the din. 

“Sexy, look at that beard.” Alina slithers 

“Which one?” Lu giggles. 

You shift and look down at your glass. You wrap both your hands around it and squirm. They said it was just work drinks. You don’t want to be dealing with strangers. 

“Oh, honey, loosen up,” Alina grabs your starched collar and pops the top button. “You have another one of those and you’ll be dancing on the table.” 

“Um,” you lean away from her, “maybe. Erm, I need to go to the restroom.” 

“Boo, too early to break the seal,” Katy whines. 

“Sorry,” you apologise and stand. 

You take your glass with you and as you turn, you stop short as your eyes meet another pair. One of the men from the crowded table catches you in his gaze. You gulp and quickly lower your chin. You hurry on to the bar and set your empty glass on it. 

“Thanks,” you say. 

“Oh, thanks,” the man behind it swipes it away. “The waitress coulda grabbed that.” 

“Oh, now worries,” you show a palm and turn to find the restroom. 

You head down the hallway behind the bright blue sign. You dip into the ladies and claim a stall. As nice as it is to release the pressure, it’s even nicer to get a breather. You’re not the bar type. Not a drinker or a dancer, as much as Alina keeps suggesting it. You’re a total square. Thirty years old and you’ve never done anything more fun than laser tag. 

You wash your hands and leave the bathroom reluctantly. The music seems louder as you come out, the voices too. As you enter the barroom, you slow down. You’re mortified to find Alina and Katy in the open space, dancing. Grinding against each other. 

You stand there, frozen and embarrassed. The other women at the table cheer them on lewdly. You don’t know what to do. Sitting with Lu and Mikayla would draw as much attention as joining the dancing. This doesn’t seem like the place for that. 

Maybe it’s time for you to go. You’re feeling a bit cloudy and your eyes are fuzzy. You’ve been up since five in the morning. 

You slowly cross the space but have to dodge as Alina spins out and nearly crashes into you. In an effort to avoid her, you hit the side of a table, bouncing off of it and staggering until you fall onto something soft. Thank gosh you managed to find a seat in your descent. 

“Mmph,” the grunt greets you with the firm cushion beneath you, “y’alright, doll?” 

You look over in horror at the man who’s lap you sit upon. How embarrassing!! You look around at the other men at the table as it dawns on you. This is the worst crash landing you can imagine. 

You gasp and peer back at the man who serves as your chair. He’s terrifyingly handsome. His eyes are so blue and his jaw is chiseled beneath his dark beard. His brown hair curtains down around his cheekbones and his cheek dimples in amusement. 

“I’m so sorry,” you wriggle against him as he spreads his large hand across your back. “I tripped. I didn’t man to—oh gosh.” 

You touch your scalding forehead and try to shimmy out of his lap. It’s useless as you can’t get much of a stronghold. You just manage to ground your butt down on him. 

“You okay there?” He runs his fingertips up your spine and sends a shiver through you. 

“I’m--- sorry!” You gulp out again. “Please, I’m--” you grab the corner of the table and manage to haul yourself up. “I’m so...” you shake your head and bluster. You’re burning in humiliation. You can feel the other men watching you. “Ugh.” 

You turn and scurry around Alina and Katy. You quickly gather up your purse and coat as the women at the table laugh. “Oh, honey, why don’t you give him a nice ride,” Lu teases. 

You blanch at her and makes a face, “I didn’t mean to--” 

“Oh, chill,” Mikayla chides. “Really, it was funny. Where are you going?” 

“Home,” you exclaim. “Stop laughing at me. You’ve been laughing at me all night.” 

Lu scoffs, “well, you’re a bit silly, aren’t you? Act like you’ve never touched a man or a drink before.” 

You frown and flutter your lashes against the singe of hot tears. This is why you always say no. Why you are always ‘busy’. You don’t fit in. You’re better off alone. 

You hug your coat and bag and hurry across the bar. You push through the door and stagger out into the night with a sniffle. Oh joy, work is going to be even worse. Now they’re going to sit around and cackle at you instead of Wendy and her tacky dresses. 

You look around, searching for your bearings. You need to find a cab and get out of here. You see once coming down the pavement. You shift your things into one arm and throw your other up. The taxi steers towards the sidewalk but picks up another pedestrian further down. 

You huff and crane in search of another escape. 

“Hey, doll,” a rocky voice calls over the hinges of the bar door. “Where’re you off to?” You continue to peer down the street, frightened as you feel a gentle nudge on your elbow, “hey, talking to you. You didn’t even give me a name after you sat right on me.” 

You flinch and reel away from him, “huh? What? Oh, I’m sorry. That was just... clumsy.” 

“Ah, it’s fine. Really. It was funny,” he assures you. “I’m not making fun of you. Just, a pretty girl falls right in my lap then runs away, I kinda gotta wonder...” 

“Umph?” You furrow your brow, “you’re making fun of me too.” 

“Why would I do that?” He tilts his head. “Come back inside. Let me by you a drink.” You shake your head and wave your hand past him at another yellow cab. He chuckles softly, “you don’t gotta be shy.” 

“I don’t know you,” you insist. 

“I’m tryna fix that,” he counters. 

“Really, I just wanna go home,” you whine as the taxi drives by without stop. 

“Right, let’s do that,” he turns and throws his hand up. He whistles and wiggles his fingers. A cab rolls right up to him. “Let’s go.” 

He opens the back door and stands back. You stare at it. 

“Thanks,” you sigh in relief. You get in, ducking through the door, greeting the driver with a polite, “hello.” 

Yet the door doesn’t close. Instead, you’re urged further inside by the man as he sits on the seat next to you. You slide over as he pulls the door shut behind him. 

“Tell him where we’re going, doll,” he commands. 

You look at him, then the driver. You’re too stunned to think. What is he doing? You give your address and curl your shoulders as you shrink down. 

“Now,” the man stretches his arm across the seat, “we got the whole ride to get to know each other,” he offers his other hand, “I’m Bucky, I hear I make a pretty comfy seat.” 

You can’t help half a smile. You reach and shake his hand. You suppose he did help you out and he doesn’t seem angry about your unceremonious fall. You give him your name. 

“Thanks,” you say again. 

“Thanks? Oh doll, what kinda fool wouldn’t help a girl like you?” 

[whimsyvixen]

Ooh would you ever do a piece on like a riot cop/riot suppression officer? Just a big burly guy with a face covering helmet that wants nothing more than to pound some law and order into the mc

Men in uniform always have clutching my pearls. Abuse of authority kink makes me one sick woman but I can't help my desires. I want to be held down by a strong man, especially by one that is hellbent on putting me in my place~~⛓️😩

You have a very peculiar head on those shoulders, darling. I absolutely love it~ 🖤♥️. You actually gave me a bit of motivation to doodle something for this idea of yours. I can't offer you a story so this drabble is the best I can give you. I hope you like it ✌️💋💋💋!!

~

Red Velvet

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Riot police officer x female reader

⚠️ WARNINGS/TAGS⚠️: explicit content, yandere, dark smut, rape/non-con elements, forced orgasm, unprotected sex, mating press, forced breeding, slapping, dacryphilia, degradation, dirty talk.

You're shrieking and sobbing from the exquisite fucking being forced on you. It was too much! I couldn't do this anymore. You're trying to shove him away and pleading for him to be more gentle, your squirming doing little to disrupt the tempo of his pistoning hips.

Desperately, you threw your hand forward with all your might and your fist connected with his face. He let out a grunt of pain, holding his nose with one hand while he held you down with the other hand to pin you to the floor. Seeing him gingerly touch his nose to determine the damage, your struggles renewed to get away from him. Suddenly, a vicious backhand twisted your head to the side, your stunned face breaking out in more tears from the sting on your cheek.

"The hard way it is then," there is a vacant look in his eyes as he stares down at you, making you dread what he had in store for you. He is quick to grab the back of your knees, pushing them to your chest to fold you into a more obscene position.

He doesn't give you time to formulate a protest before your high pitched cries echo across the room once more as he jackhammers into your poor abused pussy, the filthy squelch of cock piercing the walls of your womanhood audible over the repeated slap of wet flesh clashing against one another. Tears blur the image of the riot police officer above you, his black attire pristine if not for the blood smeared across it.

Those poor people. They didn't deserve it and here you were, allowing the monster responsible for their deaths pound away at your insides like a common whore.

"I'm almost there, you rebellious little bitch," he hissed over you, his serpentine eyes fixated on his cock plundering the heated depths of your pussy. His brows scrunched in near pain as your cunt strangles his dick, your walls gripping the rod of flesh so tightly that it was almost hard to pull out of you when he shifted his hips back.

"I'm cumming inside this tight little pussy." He chuckled at your horrified expression, bringing one gloved hand down to rub your swollen clit tenderly before pinching it between his fingers. The action had your hips thrusting up, a mortifying moan escaping your lips as you shook from the painful pleasure. Your eyes rolled back as he continued applying pressure to your sensitive nub, your mind no longer coherent as your body became a slave to his touch. Your hips started grinding shyly into his thrusts, unable to resist the decadent pleasure of a dick stretching your cunt and kissing your womb with every deep thrust.

"Good girl, let's end this, yeah?" He murmured sweetly, his harsh breathing muffled behind his mask. "I can feel my balls tightening up. Get ready for my load, bitch. You'll be drowning in it soon enough."

[who-is-page]

Wag Those Tail Feathers: The Wonders of Alterhuman Courtship

Author: Page Type: Essay Words: 1,065 Summary: Page's perspective on alterhuman courtship, as an individual who has been both on the receiving and giving ends of it.

[Part of the Sol System’s Alterhuman Writing Project for 2024. If you don’t want to see these posts, block the tag #inkedclaws]

As a polyamorous alterhuman, I’ve had the wonderful experience of being in relationships with people who have a variety of different courtship instincts— sometimes even all at the same time! Including my own instincts, it’s led up to some interesting realizations about the variety and diversity of expressions of love, and how wonderful it can be to be loved by an alterhuman (and to be an alterhuman in love, too).

My personal experiences, notably, revolve specifically around being nonhuman and this applies to a majority of my partners as well, which influences the flavor of this discussion. It’s been a wonder to be the target of a feathery mating dance, to be wooed with draconic jewelry and treasures, or to have my partner jump out with a meal, as proud as could be at displaying their hunting skills for a mate. It’s not necessarily just a nonhuman thing, either, of course; my orthohuman partner exhibits some similar sort of feelings and actions, too! Something which comes across especially strong in his hunt-and-gather supply-hoarding behavior in video games. But there’s something so especially intimate about having your alterhuman partner court you in a way unique to their species identity. It’s a beyond flattering form of trust, love, and affection.

And as an alterhuman who has targeted my partners, alterhuman and orthohuman alike, with my own affections, it’s also uniquely affirming to have your partners engage with your varieties of courtship for your species. There’s something incredibly special to have them try to learn your rituals and woo you in turn, even if they don’t have the same instincts driving them. It’s love with intention, a conscious effort to learn a language that’s typically foreign to them or which they might otherwise never come across on such a personal level. It may not always be perfectly executed, but the intentions behind them make them perfect regardless.

I’m someone who’s fully public about my alterhumanity. I don’t hide that I’m a dog and (luckily) no one especially seems to care in the day-to-day when I’m meeting up with strangers and acquantinces. But it’s become an important part of my dating life that potential partners need to not only be aware of my alterhumanity and accept it, but they also need to interact with it. You could argue that my spouse set the bar high for any potential future partners with how he took to my canine-ness and plurality like a fish to water, but I’m of the opinion that it’s something that should be the norm, not something so utterly unexpected by many.

Being able to engage in alterhuman courtship with your partner, as serious or as silly as it may fundamentally end up being, shouldn’t be something that you feel is utterly unreachable, that you yearn for but never feel like you’ll be able to reach. Alterhuman courtship is a wonderous experience; something that I think it’s not only important for alterhuman folks to be able to freely do with those they love most, but also to be on the receiving end of, too. It can be easy to default to the status quo in relationships, because of the societal pressure around us. Normativity around romance, sex, and even platonic affections is something that is constantly at play in the backgrounds of our culture and which embeds itself into our conciousnesses in unexpected and often invisible ways; and it’s difficult to dissect these without exposing ourselves to what some might list as “weird” or “unusual” urges and behaviors. But we can’t unpack the shame or embarrassment that might be holding us back from engaging with these urges unless we actually let ourselves acknowledge the collective, confusing feelings abound within them. We shouldn’t allow ourselves to shrug our shoulders and simply say, “I suppose I’ll never find someone who can accept me as my [species] and all that entails,” or to just resign ourselves to having to hide a part of ourselves away forever to maintain relationships.

We should toss these types of negative feelings aside and embrace our alterhuman courtship urges in earnest: that sometimes we’re not fully human, or we’re human a little to the right, and that inevitably makes romance, sex, and platonic interactions a little different for us than it might look for standard folks as displayed on a big screen. It’s not a failure on our part, and it’s not something that needs to be squirreled away due to internalized respectability politics. We can love ourselves and find love in others, for and by being ourselves. We can experience unique forms of love and adore those factors in others. This is, to me, a part of the territory that comes with being alterhuman or knowing alterhumans. It’s a part of what makes life wonderous.

In my partnerships, I love getting to bring my partners gifts. I love to bring them tiny treasures, small things from my system’s hoard, to pebble at them almost like a penguin would (sometimes including a silly little dance, of love!) It goes beyond standard gift-giving in the way that most of the people I’ve met would think of it, where presents that large are often reserved for special occasions like holidays and birthday. But it’s something I do year-round, to show my partners that they’re always on my mind, and that what is mine is their’s, too. I do the same thing with food; while normally incredibly food protective, both due to species identity and past food insecurities, I make the effort to share my favorite foods with my partners for the same fundamental reasons. To share my food, my bed, my life— and to have my partners recognize that as not just general displays of love, but as specifically displays of love intertwined with what I am, is something which displays a deep level of understanding and acceptance for my species. It’s something I’m grateful for beyond words, but it’s also something that I don’t want us as a community to accept as unheard of, or as just a one-off, lucky occurrence. Love like this is achievable and rewarding, both as a recipient of such alterhuman affections and as the giver. And we all deserve to experience it, in whatever form of love that we feel most comfortable with. Don’t tell yourself otherwise; don’t settle for less just because you feel like you have no other choice.

[mvrdermeharder]

Part 2 of Kaiser-goal analysis

[This post is a continuation to my previous one, where I tried to theorize how Kaiser’s goal celebrations differ from other strikers’ and the reason(s) behind it. I highly recommend you to read that first. I’ll also edit this post and link the third part here, when I upload that.]

[Also, tagging u @pixie05love <3]

Okay so, in this part I want to talk about what happens between the third and fourth goal: the failed attempt of the Magnus (the culmination point of Kaiser’s desperation to reestablish and reinforce his shaken self-esteem) and the events leading up to it. I think it’s important to recap these events and Kaiser’s down spiral to have a better understanding of the Magnus and it’s significance later on.

Reaction to defeat:

We have left off with the results of his shameful third goal: he fixates on Isagi more than ever, not bothering to award Ness. The game ends, with his rival as the ultimate victor. And just like after his latest goal, he tries to hold it together: covers his expression with his hair, head held down, being silent. But he obviously can’t take it anymore: his frustrations break through the surface completely, even though Ness isn’t there this time to “provoke” Kaiser’s ire.

(I am NOT placing the blame on Ness for how Kaiser responds to him in a verbally abusive way. That is not what I’m getting at. Just to be clear.)

And I want to note the obvious difference between these two responses to a loss: at first, his anger is icy and chilling, we get to see his vicious expression and eyes (they are the focal point of the panel) and it literally freezes Ness. He’s mad, it’s showing, but he still stands straight as the bet is not lost just yet. At the end however, his anger is loud and startling, he is hunched over, expression covered with shadows. He’s even more on the edge of an identity crisis, embarrassingly losing the bet that he had proposed in the first place, and having his self-obtained “humanity” (causing pain to others) ripped away from him.

So obviously, he doesn’t give a shit about his new offer. Prestige, wealth, and an escape from BM are only secondary goals: they do not “make him human”, only causing despair does. That is the source of his ego. And so, we get to the first self-harm scene.

Psychology behind the self-harm:

I think it can be interpreted in multiple ways, as there isn’t a clear indicator whether he’s punishing himself intentionally or subconsciously. I am PERSONALLY leaning towards the second possibility because of this one reason: he’s feeling like “shitty trash”. And how I see it, this feeling isn’t evoked by him choking himself, it’s quite the opposite, actually.

It is the same phrase his father had told him while putting his hands on Kaiser’s neck, the exact words Kaiser used to identify himself with as a young boy. But for a while now, he’s been considering himself as someone with success, who has built up his humanity, and so feeling like trash again this suddenly could’ve triggered his memories of the times he felt this way the strongest = under his father (who had spat these terrible things in his face) being totally helpless, with a pressure around his neck.

In short: he’s feeling worse than ever -> it triggers his ptsd of the most intense moment he’d felt this exact same way -> he’s reliving the memory -> subconsciously chokes himself, to imitate the situation in real time.

(But, as I’ve said, this is only my interpretation. I do not study psychology, nor do I have personal experience with ptsd and trauma responses.)

Between the Ubers game and the PxG one, we first see Kaiser at practice, as he acknowledges that he can’t gain back his feelings of comfort unless he beats Isagi. Later on the same day, we get to the second time he chokes himself. With recordings of Isagi playing in the background, he is literally facing his own defeat over and over again. It would be no wonder if the reasons behind his self-harm were the same ones that I had theorized regarding the first instance (feeling like trash more than ever -> subconsciously imitating a traumatic moment)

But there is another possibility as well. It’s now crystal clear to him that crushing Isagi is the end all be all. So, maybe, to come up with a way to do just that, he is intentionally placing even more pressure on himself (both figuratively and literally) to find a way out. He overwhelms his psyche on purpose, so that his base instincts for survival would kick in, searching for newfound inspiration to escape the situation. And it works:

Magnus’ failed attempt:

After Isagi scores the first goal, Kaiser’s situation is even worse. Not only is his one satisfaction of ruining other’s careers is being ripped away, but also his other accomplishments (his position, his team). Now even more things are at stake. Again, his anger is loud, bigger than ever.

But he puts a lid on his frustrations again, maybe so as not to scare Ness away; after all he needs him to set up his goal. But his emotions and desperation are clearly showing, they make him utterly irrational. Which costs him a miskick.

And at this moment, we have finally arrived at the pinnacle of his accumulated despair: for the very first time we can clearly see and observe every detail of his overwhelming frustration on his face: his hair is completely out of the way and there are no shadows to cover his expression either.

(I know this last part about the failed attempt is more of a recap, but some parts that I’ve mentioned will be important regarding the actual Magnus analysis itself… or at least I think so…)

Edit! Read part 3 here!

[tnbsecretsanta]

Welcome to the Advent Calendar 2024!

Didn't make it to Secret Santa due to lack of time? Don't worry! This year, there will be a complementary event called "Advent Calendar" where you can spread your love for the series without sticking to a schedule!

What is an Advent Calendar? Traditionally, an advent calendar is a special type of calendar that counts down the days until Christmas Day, starting from 1st December.

How do I participate? Simply create a Tumblr or Twitter post with the activity indicated for the day and use the tag #TnBAdvent24, and we'll reblog/retweet it!

Do I have to participate every day? No! The point of this side event is for you to spread your love for the series without the pressure of a schedule like in the Secret Santa! You can participate any day you want: one, two, ten, all of them! Your choice!

Can I participate in the side event if I joined the Secret Santa? Yes! This event is entirely free, so that you can participate at your leisure.

If I missed an activity from a previous day, can I still post it? Yes! Just use the tag we'll reblog/retweet it! We just suggest that you don't use an activity scheduled for a later date and wait until the indicated day to publish it.

Happy creating!

See below the cut for the text version of the activities indicated

1st - Start reading a Fanfic (emphasis on start, no need to finish it the same day)

2nd - Create a NEXT power

3rd - Which Proverb would make for a good episode title?

4th - Share your favorite piece of official art

5th - Post a WIP (This can be any work-in-progress related to T&B, a merch collection, a shrine, a cosplay, art, MMD video, ita bag, progress of your read-through of the manga, that stuff!)

6th - Share your Favorite Tiger & Bunny-related song (This means any song made for Tiger & Bunny specifically, including character songs and music used in the episodes and credits)

7th - Re-watch any episode of Tiger & Bunny (and then feel free to post a review of it)

8th - What do you want Tiger & Bunny to collab with next? (Collaboration in this context is a collab with another property, such as a company like Sanrio, a store chain like 7-11, restaurant/fast food chains, games, and similar)

9th - Make a fancast for a hypothetical Live Action Adaptation of Tiger & Bunny

10th - Share a headcanon - new or old - that you have

11th - Share an instance of "Tiger & Bunny Spotting" you've seen IRL (T&B Spotting is seeing things like their colours or associated animals-theming in unexpected places. Pets can count for this; If it's not your pet, ask for permission before posting.)

12th - Come up with a food or drink themed around a character. Actually making it is entirely optional!

13th - Come up with an 'Alternate Universe' (AU) plot. You don't have to write anything beyond a plot synopsis or roles.

14th - Ramble about your favorite character or pairing!

15th - Share either a "hidden Gem" fic, or your favourite fanfic! Maybe it's both?

16th - Pitch a Season 3 or Third Movie plot

17th - Post a meme you really like, or make a meme from scratch

18th - Share your favorite OR your most wanted piece of Tiger & Bunny Merchandise

19th - Tell us about your favorite Villain

20th - Picture/Write about yourself as if you lived in Sternbild

21st - Assign a song you like to a character or a pairing

22nd - Share your favorite piece of fanart! Make sure to credit the artist, or repost the art directly through reblog or retweet or similar features.

23rd - Share your favorite piece of trivia about any Tiger & Bunny character

24th - Tell us what Tiger & Bunny means to you

25th - Free Day! Happy Holidays!

[graedari]

Got tagged by my lovely @lordcustythependletwat to do this and uh I guess this is me

Tagging @radjerda @noyin @puddtoast @sphyrnestuff @throbussydestroyersfwsquelcher @cosmic-navel-gazin anyone else who'd like to :)

[hajihiko]

Sonia and Komaeda getting along well enough to room together is so good honestly. Even if its mostly bc she takes no shit, Komaeda was still like the only person to stand up for her when Teruteru was trying to get frisky about her naiveté in the prologue/ch1.

I kind of suspect she was acting more unknowing than she really was then, to suit her role as a princess, but he had no way of knowing that then. Plus, if she was aware then, it might be easier for her to recognize the side of him that isn't all hope n murder? Since outside of the killing game he's pretty polite (if self effacing) and generally not down for creepy behavior.

If you've got any more thoughts on these two's interactions postgame, I'd love to hear.

I dont think it's perfect by any means (nothing on the ship is!) but its proooobably the best quick-solution scenario?

[casualavocados]

so i've been going down several translation holes while giffing kiseki... finding different sources which have their own translations, etc. then trying to choose the words that fit the meaning of the scene im giffing best.

i just wanna talk about two lines in particular that have made me tilt my head and wonder about nuances, so here we go:

the first line/translation i want to mention is from ep9, and is to do with the meaning and intention of the characters/story. it's when chen yi is confronting ai di after he gets out of prison about the time ai di slept with him four years before. i found three different versions of what ai di cuts him off with:

these all contain insanely different meanings in english. i was losing my mind trying to figure out the subtleties of what ai di was saying here, so i reached out to a very helpful speaker of the language who has made kiseki translation posts before, @nikkotinamide , and they said this about it:

and i just got so excited about that...the nuance! the specifics! referring to it as "settling accounts" is likely where the first translation about "the past" comes from, but the other two are closer to the true meaning. however, if you simply went with the revenge line you would miss the complexities that are being suggested in ai di's character.

thinking of that night as a debt he owes to chen yi and has to pay back... as something to be settled - something he isn't even really asking about but more expects chen yi to follow through on... it makes this line so much more poignant to me because it describes his guilt and heartbreak about what happened between them - about what ai di chose to do - in a much more specific and cutting way. ai di expects anger, rejection, and retaliation from chen yi, and tries goading him into reacting in those ways bc he believes he has done something unforgivable (and also that chen yi doesn't (and will never) love him), so he would rather chen yi push him away than risk being that close again.

(un?)luckily for him chen yi is absolutely smitten with him and doesn't let him get away with it. ♥️

the second translation i want to focus on is in ep12 & has more to do with words that don't translate exactly into english, but i went on a similar bender trying to decipher it:

specifically the translation of the last two characters: "堂口 (táng kǒu)" - the word translated here as "office".

bc outside of youtube i found those characters also translated as "headquarters," "gang," and "hall", which are all, again, wildly different from each other. so my best guess was that it was actually a very specific word that highly depended on the context it was being used in, and that context was being translated generally so that non-speakers in the audience would understand. but i wanted to know what that specific word and context was!

so i reached out to a bestie who did some more digging and she found this:

which IMMEDIATELY made me batshit insane because of course that's what it means; of course it's that specific!!

"office" is too professional for where chen yi lives - it's a car garage; it's their front as an auto shop. but it's also not yiyun's "headquarters" because that's the building with the spa where chen dongyang and his husband operate out of: the true central point of the gang. but because of this other line in episode 3, we know chen yi (and ai di too through association; they're a pair, do not buy separately, etc.) leads a specific division of yiyun gang:

so when chen yi asks ai di in ep12 if he's going to the bar or to "堂口" he's asking if he's coming home to the auto shop: their specific division of the gang, (which we knew all along was what he was talking about in the first place).

(...and this is just me continuing with the meta side of it, not the translations, but i also think this connects to what xiao jie and ai di were both talking about when they brought up chen yi's succession as the leader of yiyun:

because chen yi is currently just a leader of one branch of the gang, and young (25 at the point where cdy retires), so to me it makes sense that older, senior members of the gang - possibly even leaders of other divisions - would want that spot. but chen yi is practically cdy's son so get wrecked guys the gang passes to him. 🥰

and that's also why cdy is urging ai di to just come back and be a member again. bc he raised both chen yi and ai di (they are a pair, do not buy seperately) and because chen yi is gonna need ai di to watch his back as he takes over full responsibility. ...im mad we didn't get to see more inter-gang dynamics. that could have been so COOL let me IN.)

anyway those are the two translation bits that have left the biggest impression on me while i've watched and giffed kiseki so far. i just think language is so fucking neat.

[ihearnocomplaints]

I point you all to my ko-fi page once more -> link

my parents, enraged that I didn’t sort a massive mound of clothes yesterday (after doing the other chores they asked), essentially decided they are going to start charging me rent.

So this is just in preparation for that moment when they do start asking. I’m still trying to save up to move out. It’s not a huge deal yet (idk how much they’re going to charge) so there’s no pressure to donate.

I work a full time job so I can’t really give much in return. But I can take doodle requests upon proof of donation! I’ll doodle any DCA you want.

Thanks.

[necrotic-nephilim]

tag game & WIP game

two tag games in one post! (bc i totally didn't forget to do the first when i was tagged) the first tag game, i was tagged by @sasheneskywalker on my main!!

last song: Dark in My Imagination by of Verona

currently watching: Grotesquerie and Kevin Can F*** HImself are the main shows i'm watching! i plan to watch the Penguin but i haven't started it yet

last movie: ... probably Madame Web. for like. the sixth time.

sweet/spicy/savory: savory

relationship status: dating two partners and one girlfriend whom i all love dearly <3

current obsession: in a broad sense, DC. a more specific obsession, Cass Cain. i've got a lot of brainworms about her.

last thing i searched online: "alpine macaroni" bc it's my night to make dinner. the last thing i googled for a fic tho was "width of a penis" and "width of a bo staff" so. you make make assumptions about that.

and for the WIP game!

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

Tagged by @melodyatlas

word: BATS

B [a Helena/Steph WIP]

“Batman?” Stephanie groaned, blinking her eyes into focus. The first thing she saw wasn’t the person who caught her, but the shadow they cast. It had the pointed ears and she could already hear the lecture he was about to give her. “Not even close.” The voice was deep, but distinctly female. Stephanie jumped. With a quick slice of a blade, the woman cut away the rope holding Stephanie’s arms and ankles.

A [a Dick/Lance Brunner WIP]

“All the goddamn mercenaries and contract killers I’ve called and not a single fucking one of you is willing to kill one mob boss?” The man on the other end got so huffy, he made the call go static for a moment. Lance made a point to snort loud enough for the guy to hear. “I wouldn’t take a contract for any mob boss in Gotham. But I’m sure as hell not taking one for the Red Hood. It’s called self-preservation. Google it if you have to.”

T [a Cass/Terry WIP]

Terry refuses to call them anything but panties. They certainly didn’t cover any more skin than panties would. He hadn’t the slightest clue how everything stayed in place with the skimpy, shimmering fabric. If Terry went out wearing that, he’d only win fights by making villains piss themselves from laughing after he accidentally flashed them.

S [a Slade/Tim WIP]

“Shiva,” Slade hummed, as soon as he could pinpoint a specific move the little bird couldn’t have learned from anywhere else. “The Bat convinced Shiva to train you, didn’t he?” Granted, Robin wasn’t as sharp with them, but he wasn’t half bad for the scrawny thing he was. Slade tried to kick the kid in the head, but he managed to flip out of the way, landing in a crouch a few feet away from Slade.

no pressure tagging for anyone who wants to do either of these!

@searchforahero @divine-dominion @redhoodedoutlaw @rottenapricots @sandy-writing

if you do the WIP game your word is: ROBIN

[giantkillerjack]

Uh-oh! You are like, SOOO awkward!!

You're so awkward that it is occasionally mildly uncomfortable for people!

You're so awkward that sometimes people are confused by you and then there are awkward silences!

You're so awkward ...... that ultimately no one is harmed!!

Oh damn!!! What a vile crime you have committed! What an unforgivable thing it is to make a fellow human briefly confused!

Why, if *I* were ever briefly confused and kind of uncomfortable as a result, I'd be devastated.... by the absolute net zero change in my happiness and health! - From which I might never recover!! Yes indeed! No punishment can ever be enough for you!!

So you better absolutely hate yourself for it.

Better be SO MEAN to yourself about every single missed social cue so you don't forget your horrible crime! Meaner than you'd ever dream of being to someone else for the same thing! This is YOUR responsibility!

You need to show the world that you KNOW you are bad by punishing yourself constantly! After all, think of all the people who BENEFIT from you punishing yourself! - No, really! Think about it! Think about who benefits from your pain.

Think of alllllll the definitely-good people that your definitely-necessary self-torment definitely helps! I mean, you can't just cut off their definitely-life-sustaining supply of your suffering, right?? Sure, everyone else has a breaking point, but you're probably the only person in human history who doesn't, right? Best not to question it probably. Sure, it's a symptom that billions of people with trauma have had, but who knows? You could be a one-in-seven-billion exception. Anything's possible!

Instead, better just accept that idea that bullies carry like guns in holsters - the idea that people who have trouble with social cues deserve to suffer. Better carry on the burden they placed on you until you drop. Aid the cause of the callous by enforcing shame and suffering upon yourself extra hard; try your best to do their work for them. They're very busy.

Better not recognize that you need patience and kindness to heal from your trauma. Better not find out that it was trauma rather than personal weakness filling your head with self-hating thoughts. Better not find out it wasn't your fault.

Better not find out that awkwardness is not inherently harmful or unkind, and, in fact, the people who act like it is *are the ones enacting harm and being cruel.*

Better not get righteously angry when you realize just how much unnecessary damage this has done to you. After all, if you get mad, you might realize you deserve better. You might even feel brave enough to DEMAND better! You might build boundaries that keep you safe! You might make other people think they deserve to feel safe too! And we obviously can't be having that, so...

Better not show yourself even a little kindness a little bit at a time.

Better not make a habit out of it after all that practice.

Better not get confident.

Especially if you can't first wipe out every trace of awkward. (And you probably never will. Because people who experience absolute social certainty at all times tend to be insufferable assholes that enforce the status quo. And you just don't have the stock portfolio for that.)

Better not be confident and awkward because then you might confuse and delight people

- you might accidentally end up making other people feel less shame for their social difficulties

- you might make isolated, traumatized, and shy people feel like they deserve to be included in social situations

- you might even make them feel they can be themselves around you

- you might start loving the effect you have on a room

- you might enjoy conversations more

- you might forgive yourself and bounce back from shame more easily and frequently

- you might come to enjoy some of those moments of harmless confusion you cause because NOBODY expects the Confident Awkward, and that can genuinely be an advantage in social situations

- you might stop apologizing so much.

- you might find that socializing is like a video game: it requires practice but also a safe space for it to be fun and positive.

Or if you can't become assertive and confident, better not remain awkward and shy and quiet, and then love and forgive yourself anyway!

Why, it would be carnage!!

In either scenario, you run the risk of finding out that it's not your fault that safe spaces full of kind people can be really hard to find, create, and nurture. You could end up building a skillset that helps you do those things if you're not careful!

If you start giving yourself even the tiniest amount of grace at a time, you will find that you've accessed a gateway drug with extreme long-term side effects:

- You might realize that it was never your fault that it took so long to like yourself.

- You might realize that you were always worth talking to, even when you didn't like yourself and communication felt impossibly difficult.

- You might realize that you'll still be worth talking to even if communication becomes harder as you age and/or experience disability.

- You might come to know that you deserve to be heard even on bad days when words come slow and blurry.

You might discover that you were always deserving of kindness, first and foremost from yourself.

So. As you can see, it's FAR too much of a risk to start granting your awkward self free pardons for your many heinous and harmless crimes. Better to just leave it there.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

one thing i realized about fandaniel's dynamic with xande that really fucks me up is, like.... there are the obvious parallels that canon draws between meteion and xande, and their roles in hermes/fandaniel's lives. and there are also the parallels between fandaniel and meteion. there's a lot to unpack.

but it hit me recently that one of hermes' deepest, most devastating regrets is having failed meteion, with abuse and hypocrisy and the project he had the authority to make her a part of.

he was painfully aware that he wasn't fit to be a father; that he'd put them in a bitch of an unsatisfactory situation with his lack of foresight; that he was currently fucking things up in ways he did not know how to understand or articulate, much less address. he knew that there was no support system for this; not just for his mental health issues in general, but to educate him and hold him accountable about how to be decent to her, because he knew no one would give a fuck. the closest thing anyone would have given him to advice would be to just kill her and start over.

he says he hopes she'll find a better parent out there in space somewhere, because he knows there is not one to be found for her anywhere on this star, including him. she was one of the most helpless, vulnerable people in their society, and there was no backup for her if he mistreated her, if he failed. and he did.

so of course his next attempt to find a meteion would be an emperor. of course he'd be at the very top of the most powerful empire in the world, at the time. of course he'd position himself as his servant, devote himself to him utterly, and value his authority above all. he wanted someone he could never hurt the way he hurt meteion again.

[autisticlee]

that feeling when you get advice from someone who you know is well-meaning and has good intentions....but it's just the most allistic, neurotypical, and/or abled advice you have ever heard and completely invalidates the point you're trying to make about why you struggle to do the thing in the first place.

they're telling you to "do it in this specific way that is completely opposite of how you physically/mentally work" for example, make eye contact/read people's facial expressions and intentions! but you're autistic. initiate verbal conversation and don't be shy! but you're nonverbal or semispeaking. get out of the house more and participate in these physical activities! but you're physically disabled. Just Be Yourself! but you have DID/OSDD/other personality disorder. etc.

i'm sorry. I know you're just trying to help. I appreciate it, really. but it's all things i've heard before and none of it helps me specifically. I have tried (maybe even still try out of habit) and learned I can't just do those things. they don't work for me or cause more issues. practice isn't the issue. not everyone can simply willpower through everything. but thanks for trying 😔✊️

[johndonneswife]

🌙🌵✨☀️ piñon tree smell after rain. u agree

[mobius-m-mobius]

CREATIONS OF 2023:

Tysm to the incredible @edteachs for tagging me! 💖💖 I'd never done this before either and had so much fun not just looking back through my gifs but getting surprised by which ones took off!

JANUARY most popular: Daniel Craig and Hugh Grant talking Knives Out favorite(s): Owen in Me, You, and Dupree and Lokius + definitions FEBRUARY most popular: Tom and Owen behind the scenes of Loki S1 favorite: Bliss MARCH most popular: Brendan Fraser and Ke Huy Quan celebrating their Oscar wins favorite(s): Owen on Jimmy Kimmel Live and TenSimm + being themselves APRIL most popular: Aziraphale/Crowley incorrect quote favorite: John Cusack and Minnie Driver in Grosse Pointe Blank MAY most popular: Doctor Who 60th anniversary trailer favorite(s): Tim Roth in Reservoir Dogs and Owen in Paint JUNE most popular: Aziraphale/Crowley + same energy favorite: Lokius in S1 JULY most popular: Aziraphale/Crowley in S2 + touch favorite(s): Owen as Father Kent in the Haunted Mansion trailer AUGUST most popular: Aziraphale/Crowley 2x04 // 2x06 favorite(s): Mobius in the Loki S2 trailer, Aziraphale/Crowley + smitten SEPTEMBER most popular: Good Omens S2 // Staged favorite: Loki cast in the S1 blooper reel OCTOBER most popular: Lokius + Live TVA Reaction favorite(s): Lokius + reflection, Loki 1x04 // 2x02, Lokius + magic NOVEMBER most popular: Lokius in the S2 finale favorite(s): Don + did you know he's single?? He's single (w/fit check bonus), compilation for Owen's birthday DECEMBER most popular: Tom on some of Owen's S2 improv favorite(s): Lokius in S2 + color, Loki and Mobius looking at the other

Tagging @llokilaufeyson, @safedistancefrombeingsmart, @too-funky, @alwaysanxiousrobot, and @sannapersikka of course only if you feel like it as well as anyone else who wants to join and please feel free to tag me if you do, love seeing everyone's creations 🥰