#from a character who struggles with depression

[mistyresolve]

Hello🥰 do you write fics? Would you mind taking one of my request? I was thinking maybe reader was recently out of depression because of an event that happened and she meets tf141. They help her through it because they’re sacred that she’ll get back into it but they realize she’s ok and she’s on a good road. Later on in the fic reader finds Simon in the corner with tears in his eyes and all you can smell in the air is fart (Simon has farted)

Word count - 1.2K

Summary - For the last two months, Task Force 141 had grown increasingly concerned about the mental well-being and safety of Sergeant L/N. Who had become so withdrawn and stone-faced that it was nearly impossible to make them laugh, let alone crack a smile.

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death (kinda, it's an animal), Limb loss, Mentions of mental health.

A/N - i refuse to acknowledge the second half of the request

Masterlist  ❤︎ 

You went to every rehab and therapy session, but that didn’t change the fact that where there was once a furry friend with his tail wagging who was now missing. It sure as hell didn’t change the fact that the K-9 was dead. There wasn’t a body for you to bury. Not that you would have had the time. When you were medevacked out, you had lost so much blood you weren’t conscious enough to tell them about your dog still left at the crash site.   

You were bedridden for two weeks after the explosion, stuck in a state of shock for half that. You had visitors the entire duration of your hospital stay but couldn’t remember who was all there.  

It all went wrong because of a single misstep. In a matter of milliseconds, your life was changed forever. A life was lost. 

Like clockwork, your ears began to ring and fill with the sounds of metal scraping along the concrete, the sound of broken glass and settling rubble. The crackle of an engine giving up. The sounds of your screams, as you tried your best to get your leg unstuck from between the wall and an LTV. The tinny reverb of your fist slamming down on the side of the LTV in frustration. Somewhere among the wreck was your K-9, Lily. You called her her name over and over again; until your voice was raw.

She didn’t so much as whimper. 

It took you forever just to relearn how to walk. Even today, you sometimes struggle to find and maintain balance. You have yet to get used to your new life.    

“I still don’t feel very good. And I’ve been wanting to hide away a lot more,” you toe your boot at the edge of the carpet, tracing its pattern with your eyes. You were finding it increasingly difficult to look people in the eyes, afraid that they would see through your fragile exterior if you did. 

Dr.Greene leaned back in her chair, quickly jotting down the admission. Her tawny hair caught in the light of the singular lamp she had on. The room smelled like lavender; you can imagine it was a calming environment for some people. Yet, your leg twitched to get out of here. 

“Listen, I don’t think this is what I need. I don’t need months of R and R. Let me back onto the field. " You rested your elbows on your thighs, but you already knew the answer she was going to give you—the same one she gave you last week and the week before. 

“Once I tick off a few more boxes on your file, I will do just that.”

You stood up from the cushioned chair, swaying ever so slightly, and dipped your chin at her, “Thank you. I think we end things here.”

“There’s a lot we still need to unpack and discuss,” she started, levelling you with a disapproving look, “This session is going so well for you.” 

“Then we can leave it to next week’s session,” you snipped. 

Price was sitting in the lobby waiting for you, engrossed in one of the pamphlets that were left on the coffee table. The members of the 141 took turns taking you to your appointments, mostly because of your newfound fear of vehicles, which sent you into a crazed panic. 

“Done already?” he stood up, his knees crackling as he did so. 

“Get me out of here before I start screaming.” 

You leaned your weight on the railing, letting the steam from the coffee heat your face. Behind you, the door squeaked open, and if the lack of footsteps meant anything, it meant that Ghost was coming out to keep you company.

Ghost was the only one you felt like he didn’t coddle you. He didn’t try to stop you from doing the things you used to do; he didn’t try to pretend to know how you felt. 

But he was getting scared for you. 

You were standing right in front of him, and he still felt like he was seeing a ghost.  

You could see his arm resting on the banister from your peripherals, his hands clasped together. You couldn’t find the energy within you to greet him. 

“Wh’s on your mind?” he asked, picking a piece of the peeling paint off the railing and flicking it away. 

You shrugged, your vision unfocusing. 

He knocked his elbow against yours, grabbing your attention, “Whatever it is, it ain’t helping you.”  

“I wasn’t even going to bring her on the mission,” you respond, your head ducking, “I just felt so bad that I’d left her behind for the last three,” you sucked in a shuttering breath, “It’s my fault. She didn’t need to be there,” It was an admission you hadn’t voiced before, not even in your own head. 

It was all you could do to put the mug onto the railing before you collapsed, your feet sliding out from under you. The heart-wrenching sob that tore through you was devastating to Ghost. 

He knelt beside you, one hand reaching for under your arm, “Let’s get you inside. We’ve got an audience out here.” 

He ushered you back into the coffee room, guiding you to the couch. He let you cry for what seemed like hours. He didn’t say a word; he just gave you the chance to let it out. He made sure no one else came into the room and handed you a glass of water for hydration and that was all you needed. He already knew you didn’t want to hear all the sap like “She’s in a better place” or “How could you have known that was going to happen?”

It was the first time since the accident that you had cried. 

Three Months Later

Aside from Mactavish, whom you had already given a very important job, you had sat everyone down in the commons room.  

You cleared your throat about to give a big announcement, “As you guys may know, I have been allowed to rejoin the K-9 unit, “ As an instructor, given the fact that since you lost your left leg, you were unfit for combat. There was a collection of smiles around the room. “It has been a long, tiresome journey. I owe a lot of my recovery to you guys. So I thank all of you for your support and patience.”

Slowly, you backed up until you reached the front door, “Now we all know that being a part of a K-9 unit requires one thing. I would like you guys to be the first to be introduced to our newest member, Callahan,” You swung the door open. Soap knelt on the other side of the door and let go of the dog's collar, who immediately took advantage of the freedom and booked it into the room. 

He was still a juvenile and still hadn’t completely gotten rid of his puppy coat. He was still energetic and friendly when he wasn’t at work. His left ear flopped around as he hopped from person to person, too excited and overwhelmed to decide who he wanted to sniff out first. 

Callahan wasn’t like the normal K-9s. He couldn't sniff out mines and wasn’t trained to attack an assailant. He is a support animal. No, he specifically trained and curated to your needs.   

Masterlist  ❤︎ 

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Thousand Yard Stare FINAL Chapter 7

Summary: Bucky Barnes has served his country well, and at a great personal cost.  After being rescued as a prisoner of war, he is struggling as he gets back into civilian life.  His newfound PTSD is severe.  His friends and family try to help, but he needs a lot more than they can give.  His mother signs him up for a Veteran recovery home, where he meets people struggling just like him, and the home director who has her own dark past to deal with.  He might just find love along the way as he searches for peace.

Warnings: mentions of physical assault, violence, being taken prisoner; sexual assault/r@pe; PTSD/anxiety/depression/panic attacks, flashbacks, nightmares; suicide/minor character death; eventual smut

Previous chapter

Bucky’s mother wasn't as supportive about him leaving as he’d hoped.  Winnie had concerns about what had happened between him and Y/N while he was in her care, while George listened with a furrowed brow.  Steve and Sam were fighting smiles the entire time, giving him knowing looks while he spoke to all of them and Y/N waited in the other room.

“I just don’t see how moving up there, away from your support center, is going to be helpful,” Winnie grumbled.

“Mama’s House is literally a support center,” George countered.

“What kind of help did you get while you were there?” Winnie ignored him, glancing toward the other room where Y/N was sitting.  “I thought we were paying for rehabilitation and recovery, not a dating service,” she accused.

Steve and Sam both groaned at that, Bucky glaring at his mother while George looked at her incredulously.  “Watch it, Ma,” Bucky warned.  “I appreciate your concern–”

“Well can you blame me for being concerned?” Winnie glared back at him.  “Have you even thought about if she’s done this before?”

“Winnie–” George warned.

“What if he’s not the first?” Winnie asked.  “How many other veterans has she taken advantage of?  What kind of ‘cuddling’ sessions are they?”

“Enough!” Bucky yelled, standing up.  Winnie recoiled.  “You will not speak about her that way,” he snarled.  “I’m leaving.  This is not up for discussion, I’m literally just letting you know what’s happening.  Now you can either be supportive and kind and accepting, or you can butt out of my life.  Choice is yours.”  He looked at George.  “I love her, and she loves me.”

George stood and walked up to Bucky, reaching out and holding his face.  “I can see that,” George smiled.  “I’m happy for you.  Your mother and I will be having a long discussion about this,” he glared at Winnie who withered under his gaze, “but just know that I’m supportive.  I love you and want what’s best for you, and if what’s best for you is to move up there and be with her, then I want that, too.  As much as I’ll miss you, my boy,” he sniffed as the emotion overcame him.  “Y/N is wonderful.  And I think you two will be great.”

Bucky smiled.  “Thank you.”

Steve and Sam stood.  “We’ll help you pack,” Steve said, Sam nodding, and they walked out back to the guest house.

Bucky went into the other room and smiled at Y/N.  “Let’s go.”

She looked at him sadly as she stood.  “I haven’t done this before, you know,” she said quietly.  Bucky frowned.  “I’ve never…been with someone I’ve helped before,” she clarified.

Bucky sighed heavily.  She’d heard his mother talking about her.  He hugged Y/N.  “I know.  And even if you had, that wouldn’t be my business,” he kissed her hair.  “You haven’t done anything wrong, you hear me?” he said, making her look at him. Y/N nodded.  “Okay, let’s get going.”

Steve and Sam helped Bucky pack, bringing a couple of bags out to Y/N’s truck.  As she waited by the truck Sam hugged Bucky.  “I’m happy for you, man,” he said.  “We’re gonna have to figure out some kind of visiting schedule.”

“Or you guys could come with us?” Bucky said suggestively.

Steve smiled as he took his turn hugging Bucky.  “I don’t know about Sam, but I just might,” he said.  “I can transfer.  Peggy works remotely.  You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Never,” Bucky laughed.

“Dude, I’ll transfer!” Sam said indignantly.  

Bucky laughed as he walked up to the truck just as George finished talking to Y/N.  She hugged George and then got in the driver's seat.  George turned to Bucky and hugged him.  “I’m sorry about your mom,” he said.

“It’s okay,” Bucky sighed.  

“It’s not,” George huffed.  “But don’t be a stranger, my boy.”  He stared at Bucky, smiling knowingly at him.  “Take care of yourself.”

“Love you, Dad,” Bucky squeezed him one more time.  When he pulled away he looked toward his family home and saw his mother looking out the window.  He waved before getting in the truck.  He looked at Y/N.  “You ready?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” she said, quoting him from months before.

Bucky laughed.  “Let’s go home.”

***

Bucky moved in with Y/N.  The veterans he’d known that were still at Mama’s House weren’t too surprised by his relationship with her.  “We all could tell,” Wanda had stated, rolling her eyes when Y/N announced his moving back.  Clint, Scott and Bruce had all moved out since he’d left, all being discharged from her care by their therapists, and were replaced with new veterans needing help.  Bucky was hired as a groundskeeper for the home, to make it so he could stay through proper channels as well as for personal reasons.  He loved every second of it.  Getting to stay with Y/N, taking care of Teddy and the house and being a part of the second family she created with the people there.

After their most recent family karaoke night, where Y/N brought the house down with a rendition of “Look Who’s Laughing Now,” Bucky helped get an overly drunk Pietro in bed again then headed to his now shared room with Y/N.  Ever since he’d officially moved in they had shared the room, slept in the same bed, but still hadn’t had sex.  It had just never been the right time, their schedules full as they transitioned into this new dynamic together.  He walked in and shut the door quietly so as not to disturb the others in the house, before turning to see Y/N in her robe.

“I was going to shower real quick,” Y/N said, glancing at him.  “Pietro’s last drink mostly ended up on my dress rather than in his mouth.”

Bucky chuckled and walked up behind and looped his arms around her.  “Can I join you?” he asked, kissing her ear.

Y/N looked back at him and smiled.  “Sure,” she said.

“Go ahead, I’ll be right there,” Bucky smirked at her.  Y/N giddily walked into the bathroom, shutting the door before he heard the water turn on.  He took a deep breath.  This was a big moment for him.  He stripped out of his clothes and set out some pajamas and underwear for later then turned to the bathroom.  He opened the door, the hot mist enveloping him as he saw Y/N’s outline through the fogged glass doors.  

Bucky opened the shower door and stepped in.  Y/N turned to him, looking only at his face.  “You okay, Buck?” she asked, washing her hair.  

“Yeah,” he breathed.  “Just feeling a little...”

Y/N hummed.  “What would you like me to do to help you feel better?”  Bucky shook his head, glancing down her naked, wet body.  “The first time after being hurt is hard,” she said quietly, taking a step toward him.  She reached up and traced her fingers over his cheek to his jaw.  “We don’t have to do anything,” she said reassuringly.  “It’s just a shower.”  

“I know,” Bucky said, grabbing her hand and holding it.  “Can I…can I just hold you for a minute?”

Y/N nodded and pulled him forward, switching him places so he was under the hot stream.  She reached up and helped get his hair wet, her fingers scratching down his scalp then slipping down over his neck, shoulders, chest and then looping around him, softly rubbing his upper back.  Bucky held her to his chest, loving the way she was so soft with him, her fingers leaving a pleasant tickling sensation in their wake.  He massaged her shoulders, then felt the top of her scars with his fingertips.  It was a stark reminder of just how much she and him had both endured, and he held her tighter as his fingers slowly moved down her back, feeling the scars.  They reached all the way down to her hips, one of them lower onto her left butt cheek.  He traced the one down, his hands gripping her hips.  She shivered against him when he was done touching her scars, her hold tightening around him.  He kissed from the top of her head down to her shoulder where the top scar started.  “Pretty girl…” he mumbled against her skin.

Y/N hummed into his chest.  “Says the handsome man,” she giggled.

Bucky smiled.  He pulled back, making her look up at him questioningly.  “I want this,” he started hesitantly, “but I need you to help me.”  Y/N nodded again.  “I need you to do something kinda weird for me,” he whispered, looking away from her.

“What is it?” Y/N asked, her fingers never stopping in rubbing and tickling his back.  

Bucky shut his eyes and breathed deeply.  “I need you to…get behind me and…” he couldn’t finish.  

Y/N reached one of her hands around and touched his face, scratching his beard gently.  “You need me to pull you back by the hips, and touch you around your groin, and let you know that it’s gonna be okay?” she guessed, giving him a knowing look.  Bucky’s eyes flew open.  She had no reservations or judgment in her eyes.  She knew him so well that it was almost disconcerting, and yet he never felt safer.  He nodded, biting his lower lip.  “I’ve got you,” she said quietly.  

She turned him around to face the water.  Her hands ran slowly down from his shoulders to his hips, where she gently gripped him.  She kissed the spot in between his shoulder blades, making him shiver.  “If you need to stop, just tell me,” she whispered.  Bucky nodded, letting the water run over the top of his head and down his face.  Y/N’s hands tightened on his hips and he tensed.  She waited for a moment then pulled his hips back roughly.  Bucky gasped, his hands reaching out and plastering against the walls of the shower.  “It’s just me,” Y/N said quietly but firmly.  “I’m not going to hurt you.  I’ve got you.”  Bucky breathed through his panic, his hands dropping slowly from the walls as he tried to relax his tense muscles.  Y/N pulled his hips back again, less harshly this time, and he was able to let her without reacting.  “Good, Bucky,” she praised him.  “I’m going to touch you now, okay?”

Bucky sighed.  “Okay,” he agreed.  Her fingers loosened around his hips and dipped down to his butt.  She slowly touched around it, letting him get used to someone touching him there.  He was still tense, and she kissed his back again.  She reached her hands around and brushed her fingers down the V at his hips, massaging the skin around his groin before stopping near his cock.  

She didn’t move, waiting for him to give her confirmation that this was what he wanted.  Bucky took her right hand and moved it up to the back of his head, then took her left hand and moved it to touch his cock.  Y/N’s right fingers scratched his scalp as her left fingers gripped his cock that was starting to harden at her touch.  She started to tug at his hair at the back of his head like she had that first cuddle session together and gripping his cock just a little harder at the same time.  He couldn’t explain why it was so healing, why her doing the same thing his attacker had done was helping him, but her gentleness and his trust in her made that little part of him that was still working through it feel like it was stitching itself back together in his heart and his mind.  He felt tears build up, his breath hitching as she didn’t move, just holding him in that position for a moment.  She kissed his back again.  “I’ve got you, love,” she whispered against his skin.  

Bucky took her hand away from his cock and she let go of his hair as he whirled around to face her.  He grabbed her face and kissed her hard, backing her up into the shower wall.  Y/N groaned as he kissed her, her hands moving to his sides.  He opened his mouth and licked at her bottom lip until she opened up to taste him back, then moved his face to kiss her cheek and down her neck.  “Thank you,” he whispered against her throat.  “I need…”

“What do you need, lover boy?” Y/N asked.

Bucky moaned at the pet name that he came to love.  “Make me feel good…please…”

Y/N started to kiss along his cheek and worked her way to his ear, nibbling on his earlobe and making him shiver against her.  “Do you need to take charge, or do you want me to?”

“You,” Bucky sighed.  “Mommy…please…”

Y/N pulled his face away from her and made him look at her.  “Okay lover boy.  Go dry off and lay down on the bed.”

Bucky nodded and quickly walked out of the shower.  He dried himself off as she shut off the water.  He hung up his towel and stepped out as she got out of the shower and went to lay down on the bed.  He made sure the door was locked before getting comfortable.  Y/N shuffled around the bathroom for a few minutes before coming out and looking at him splayed out naked on the bed.  She smirked at him as she walked up to him and sat on the edge of the bed next to his legs.  “How do you want this, Buck?”  She reached her hand out and ran her fingers softly from his ankle closest to her to his knee.  “Slow?  Fast?  Gentle?  Rough?”

Bucky shook his head.  “I…I don’t know.”

Y/N nodded and her fingers moved higher, tickling along his thigh and towards his hip.  “Then I’ll just take my time, and if there’s something you like or don’t like, you let me know, okay?”  Bucky nodded.  “Words, lover boy,” Y/N’s eyes flashed as she looked at him.

“Yes, okay,” Bucky quickly answered.  

Y/N proceeded to slowly kiss from his shin up to his hips, peppering featherlight kisses and licks along his skin inch by inch.  Bucky’s cock was rock hard as he watched her enjoy him, her hands massaging the areas her lips traversed.  Her gentleness was making him emotional.  She climbed over him the higher she went, and as she kissed up his pecs, licking over his nipples lightly before kissing and sucking at his collarbone, she straddled his hips, her pussy already feeling slick as her core rubbed over his cock.  She pulled his hands up to grip her hips, encouraging him to explore as she pushed them down to her ass, then continued to kiss, lick and suck up to his mouth.  “You feel how wet I am for you, lover boy?” she asked quietly, humming as her hips ground down on him.  Bucky whimpered, nodding as his hands guided her ass to continue grinding, his cock slipping through her lower lips, the tip catching against her clit and her entrance repeatedly.  “You want me to ride you?” she whispered against his ear.

“Fuck yes,” Bucky groaned.

She kissed him deeply as she ground down on him a little harder, before pulling away and lifting herself on her knees, reaching down and angling his cock up to her opening.  Once he was in the right spot she sat down on him, her pussy slowly swallowing him little by little until he was fully inside, her hips flush to his.  Bucky didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he blew it out in a huff once she was fully seated on him.  Y/N’s head fell back and she whined low in her throat, her hands planting on his chest to keep herself up.

“Holy shit, Buck,” she breathed, her fingers digging into his chest.  “You feel so good.”

Bucky felt his heart leap with pride at making her feel good, his lips curving into a small smile.  “Yeah?  Could say the same about you,” he teased, then he rutted his hips up into her lightly.  Y/N shivered above him, her pussy fluttering around his cock in a way that had his eyes rolling.  “Jesus,” he groaned, his fingers gripping her thighs tight.  

Y/N chuckled, then experimentally swiveled her hips back and forth on him.  She didn’t keep a steady pace, taking her time with gyrating her hips on him then lifting her hips and bobbing herself up and down on his cock, sometimes going fast and other times going excruciatingly slow.  It was like she was trying to wind him up, edge him to the brink of his sanity as she teased his cock with the rolls of her hips.  She would lean down and kiss him passionately as her hips snapped on top of him, then suddenly sit still and only give him short, chaste pecks of kisses when she could feel his grip getting tighter on her or his breathing picking up too fast.  Bucky wasn’t a virgin, but nothing and no one he’d ever done before compared to the way she was playing his body like her own personal fuck toy.

“Oh my god!” Bucky whimpered after what felt like the tenth time edging him.  “Y/N, please, I can’t–”

She giggled at the desperate look on his face.  “I’m sorry, lover boy, you just feel so good, I don’t wanna let you give in just yet.”

Bucky gritted his teeth as she squeezed his cock purposefully.  “God, I’m gonna lose it.  Mommy, please let me cum,” he begged.  

Y/N smirked at him, continually rolling her hips.  “Well, my thighs are starting to burn,” she said contemplatively.  “Maybe you can take over and help us both finish?”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice.  He nodded then suddenly twisted them both so she was now laying on the bed with him hovering over her.  His arms caged her against the bed as his hips started to thrust into her at a rapid pace.  Y/N gasped at the quick change and the way he hit deeper as he sat up and lifted her thighs higher over his hips.  He started thumbing at her clit, rubbing and flicking it, making her shudder beneath him, her hands holding his biceps in an iron grip.  He would get her close, his cock driving hard and deep into her, then as she was about to cum he would remove his hand and slow the pace.  After the third time of edging her Y/N grunted in frustration.  “Serves you right for teasing me so bad, Mommy,” Bucky smirked at her.  “You wanna cum?”

“Yes,” Y/N huffed, her head thrashing as her hands gripped his wrist, trying to get him back to her clit.  “Please, lover boy.”

“What do you need?” Bucky asked quietly, leaning forward and nuzzling his nose along different spots across her face, his lips teasing over her lips.  

“Please, Buck, I need it,” Y/N whispered desperately.  “I need to cum.  I need you to fill me up.  I wanna feel you dripping from me tomorrow.  Fuck me, please!”

Bucky nearly melted at her words, his eyes rolling slightly as he kissed her hard before nipping at her lower lip.  “Can I, Mommy?  Can I cum inside you?”

“Yes,” Y/N nodded frantically, her eyes widening with anticipation.  

He smiled.  “Whatever you want, Mommy,” he murmured.  He anchored his knees on the bed, sneaking his hand between them, then started snapping his hips hard while flicking at her clit.  Y/N gasped and he quickly covered her mouth in another deep kiss to muffle her moan.  The sounds of their heavy breaths, the wetness squelching where they were joined, and hard slaps of skin was making Bucky feel like the air was electric around them.  He continued kissing her, licking into her mouth.  She reciprocated his desperation, her hips rolling to meet his thrusts, one hand holding his wrist to keep his hand at her clit and her other hand reaching up into his hair and scratching his scalp.  “I’m gonna cum,” he huffed against her mouth.  

“Cum, lover boy,” she said, her words slurred and raspy against his lips.  “Fuck!”

With a few more precise flicks Y/N was cumming, her pussy spasming and clamping down around his cock impossibly tight.  Her mouth dropped open and Bucky covered their moans with another kiss.  She was shaking beneath him, her legs and hips trembling.  Her hand tugged at his hair and he came hard inside her, shuddering above her.  He tried to keep flicking her clit but had to pull away to catch himself before he fell on top of her, his orgasm making him feel weak.

“Holy fuck,” he mumbled into her mouth.  “Y/N…”

Y/N was trying to calm down, but her body still randomly twitched through the aftershocks.  “Buck…mmh,” she hummed, holding him close to her.  She was rubbing her face against his, like she was trying to kiss him but was too exhausted so she settled for nuzzling.  “I love you.  My sweet lover boy.”

Bucky smiled against her skin, nuzzling her back as he held her tight.  “I love you,” he replied, nestling into the crook of her neck and kissing along her throat.  “I’ve got you.”

She sighed.  “I’ve got you,” she whispered back.

Bucky got the strength to pull himself up and look down at her.  Y/N slowly opened her eyes and looked at him tiredly, but smiled.  He smiled back at her and gently kissed her lips.�� “Thank you for helping me,” he said quietly.  “For making this so…perfect.”

Her smile widened.  “I’ve got you, Buck.  For anything.  Anytime.”

***

“Hey, you made it!” Bucky said excitedly, standing from the table and walking over to Steve, Sam and Peggy walking into the bar.

“Hey punk,” Steve smiled, hugging him quickly before letting him go to greet and hug Peggy and Sam.  “I like this place,” he said, looking around the bar.  “Very homey.”

“Small town feel,” Sam agreed.

“Well come on, sit down,” Bucky said, leading them all back over to the table where Y/N and the other veterans were all sitting.  They all moved around, bringing over more chairs and figuring out the best way to get settled before karaoke started.  

“Thanks for inviting us,” Peggy said, leaning toward Bucky and Y/N.

“Of course,” Y/N smiled.  “Any friends of Bucky’s are friends of ours.”

Steve and Peggy had moved out to the small town a couple of weeks before, with Sam following soon after.  They hadn’t had a chance to experience the family karaoke night until now, and Bucky was excited for them to be a part of something he loved, with the people he loved.  The other veterans all smiled and nodded before Happy walked up to the stage.  “Welcome everybody to our monthly karaoke night.  Looks like we’ve got some new faces,” he gestured to the newcomers.  “We hope you’ll grace us with your talent.  So, let’s get started!  First up on the list, we’ve got Pietro!”

Pietro stood from the table to a loud applause and cheers from the local girls in town, raising his hands and smiling widely before getting on stage and grabbing the microphone.  “Hello lovelies,” he said with a smirk and a wink.  “This one is for all the pretty ladies here tonight.”  Wanda hung her head in her hands in embarrassment as the locals all whistled and cheered.  

The night was a hit, with Steve and Sam each taking turns on stage.  Bucky held Y/N’s hand, laughing and enjoying himself.  He was extremely grateful for all he had now.  A loving girlfriend who helped save him, his best friends, his new friends, and the new home he had at Mama’s House.  As the night started to wrap up Happy came back on stage and looked at Y/N with a knowing smile.  “Come on you,” he said, waving her up.  Steve, Sam and Peggy all looked at her questioningly as she smiled and shook her head at Happy before getting up and walking up on stage.  The locals all cheered loudly as she hugged Happy.  “For those of you who are new with us, we always end our karaoke nights with our very own home-grown star, Y/N Y/L/N,” he explained, putting his arm around her shoulders and squeezing her.  “Take us out, sweetie!”

Y/N nodded and smiled as everyone cheered again.  She whispered to Happy what song she wanted then took the microphone from him and faced the audience.  “How does some 4 Non Blondes sound?” she asked, and the audience clapped again.  The music started to play and Y/N took a deep breath before singing.

“25 years and my life is still trying to get up that great big hill of hope for a destination,” she sang.

Steve, Sam and Peggy’s mouths all dropped open in shock, making Bucky and the rest of the veterans all laugh at their expressions.  Y/N sang the song and included the audience in the chorus.  By the time she sang the last line Steve was standing and clapping, Sam throwing his shoe at the stage and Peggy smiling widely.  Bucky couldn’t stop smiling, standing and applauding when she was done and taking a bow.  Y/N walked off the stage, hugging the others and high fiving some of the locals before she finally approached Bucky.

He reached out and cupped her face in his hands, leaning down and kissing her.  “You’re amazing,” he said to her quietly.  

Y/N hugged him.  “So are you,” she said sweetly.  “Let’s go home.”

@wintrsoldrluvr @isitbiorisitlesbian @starfly-nicole @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger @idontknowhowtonormal

THE END! Thank you all so much for the likes, comments, reblogs and follows. I'm so glad y'all liked this story. It's one of the more heavy ones I've written, so I hope the trigger warnings were helpful. I love you all!

[nothing-but-paisley]

Oh no i just remembered The Magicians and got insanely pissed off about how they handled Quentin/Queliot

[goldenwaves]

been simming pt ii

[telesodalite]

This is a bit random, but I've been thinking about Misfire a lot lately, and it struck me, that with his adhd, the whole implied/hc'd substance use is only sometimes considered as a form of self-medicating? And, idk, I find the concept interesting.

Like, yeah sure, within the canon implications it's just stereotypical stuff, so it can be interpreted as wholly recreational, and whatever one might call accidentally catching a high from blood you've taken from a corpse.

But like, his adhd is emphasized as an important aspect of his character, so surely it's impacted his millions of years worth of life with its symptoms? Both good and bad?

The Decepticons in idw1 are weird, in many ways lol, but in the sense that they're the faction defined by their oddballs and rejects. They're the unwanted, the belittled, the different, the oppressed, the strange, the mad. But at the same time, any deviance from their impossible and ever-changing standards is punishable and looked down upon.

It's a classic, almost frustratingly stereotypical case of a system built against oppression becoming the oppressors. But that's not the point here.

The point is that they opened their arms and offered the idea of freedom to those who felt different from the pre-war standards, who felt belittled by it, or betrayed by it, and promptly went and turned around on these people to make them feel belittled and betrayed and made different from their own new standards.

Abuse, in many forms, runs rampant within Decepticon ranks. From the very top, to the very bottom. Any deviation or perceived weakness is an open invitation for such actions. Throw in the DJD, and there's no escape from it. No way to get out, only fit in and keep your head low, or become the very thing you originally wanted to fight against and be free from.

Substance abuse is mentioned in canon enough to assume that certain amounts of it were almost expected across both Decepticon and Autobot ranks and contingents. But considering the condition of Decepticon standards and communities, it can be assumed to be a bit more rampant in their case.

So, Misfire. We don't have much context for his background and what all he's seen and done.

It's implied he did some spywork, or at least made some cross faction connections during the war with Brainstorm, which might've been a big enough deal that it caught the attention of Skids, because he's aware of Misfire of all people, knows he changed his name right at the end of the war, and considers Misfire somewhat as a nemesis, which, might I remind thee that Skids was part of a secret special operations unit, a secret special operations unit under fucking Prowl!? So uh, possible big interesting stuff that never got explained there.

(The possible spy bit keeps me up at night I swear to god, bcs wtf were all those tiny implications supposed to mean?!? I need to know all the details of that possible spy drama so bad, omg)

Then, we know he "accidentally" killed "a dozen" other cons towards the end of the war, and that he was going to be jailed for it.

So Misfire's life obviously went down the drain before the murdering a dozen fellow soldiers bit, but considering every awful and challenging factor of being a sub-par soldier in the Decepticon army/air force, what kept him from doing something like that earlier on?

More important, what got someone like him through the war? What kept him going? What kept him alive? Well uh... the same thing that kept a lot of Decepticons going I guess. Substance abuse.

Ok so where does the self-medication angle of this whole thing come in Teles?? My answer to that would be, uh, inherently ig.

Because think about it, you're just some kinda weird guy, caught in the middle of one long ass war. You're never good enough, can't achieve the one thing you've been gunning(lol) for, and are just sorta flying by the seat of your metaphorical pants through life. You're a solider, and a victim of systematic abuse because of that, and at some point, you're possibly a perpetrator of that abuse*. On top of all that, you've also got raging adhd during all this stress and trauma, and man, quieting those racing thoughts and numbing that constant buzzing itch in your body probably feels really good when you're escaping your extremely stressful situation for just a bit.

It feels better to be more detached, to be "calmer", less caught up in a hundred thoughts at once, more focused, more in control. Eventually this becomes the subconscious focus of his using to ease the stress. It "fixes" something. Makes things "right". So casual escapist substance use tumbles into substance abuse and addiction.

How this factors into his post-war life, idk, you decide ig.

I figure the scavs being broke and cut-off from others could play a part in Misfire having to wean himself off of whatever substances were most common among his ranks, but he's also probably creative enough to make stuff from whatever they pick up. Anything considered to be "hard stuff" would likely be frowned upon or policed by Krok tho, because of the whole traumatic experience with Roadbuster and his extreme brutality due to perceived Syk abuse.

But then again, the scavs are all still very much cons with vices, and 100% constant sobriety is apprently a challenge or punishment for cons and bots alike post war.

-

*(Expanding on that bit via another ramble I had lying around that i thought i'd include)

When considering Misfire's adhd, most things emphasize the hyperactivity and impulsiveness in general without also emphasizing the negative sides.

That moment where he almost punches Grimlock comes to mind a lot.

It could be viewed as just a side-effect of perpetuated Decepticon abuse, a knee-jerk reaction that may have been turned on him during the war for his mistakes, that he in turn expresses towards others "mistakes".

Something to also consider here though, is how the impulsivity of adhd can make violent reactions worse, anger and/or frustration harder to control, and harder to hold back from expressing outwardly or physically, especially if left unchecked or untreated for a long time.

But Misfire stops and takes a second to collect himself before becoming somber as he considers Grimlock's perspective.

This instinctually violent reaction is not something he wants, or likes, and judging by how much time has passed by that point in the comic, this has been something he's been working on and is still working on.

But what about while he was still an active solider? When holding back was seen as a weak or foolish response? How did the impulsivity play into it? After being treated like that himself, struck or beaten for mistakes, at what point did it snap and he found himself standing over another solider as they stared up at him with that same fear and shock and hurt he had felt. How did that affect him to know he was capable of doing that without thought?

Because, ya know, he's done bad things too...

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

some people go “oh yeah this character is so mental illness they’re soooooo neurodivergence” and then get weirdly offended if you depict them with anything but very romanticised inaccurate versions of depression or autism.

[skinnypaleangryperson]

It's interesting, the contrasting difference between the way that Rick sees and thinks about things versus being someone like Jerry ( this concept that the episode presented is incredibly philosophical in terms of what the difference is between a mind and a brain already.)

But generally, I think this definitely suggests that Rick is either completely miserable inside of his own brain so much the point that in mind like Jerry wouldn't be able to handle it for even one minute from the way that he sees and knows things, which has definitely been suggested throughout the series-and likewise, that he wouldn't be able to handle being inside of a simpler person's brain in for some sort of deeply emotionally and psychologically traumatizing reason that comes along with being wired the way that Rick is. Which I think is interesting, if there's anything to go by from the more nuanced and eccentric people that I've met throughout my life, who have all been completely miserable in contrast to the simpler people around them.

I think it's interesting because it seems to relate to how intelligence or at the very least being a unique thinker than the average leads to someone being completely miserable, and this is a good comical somewhat exaggeration about how mad it would make a person go to be someone who has all of the heaviness that goes on in their brain and the things that they know from intelligence, or maybe not even intelligence but even just being a unique thinker and seeing human life and existence in general in a certain way that might make them different but miserable, and contrast it to a mind like Jerry. I don't know if it was intentional or not, but I definitely see this as an interesting commentary between the contrast between simpler-minded people and more "full-headed", tormented people like Rick-or at the very least, people who are more neurodivergent, versus people who are more content and simple, and how the two would be incredibly dysfunctional coming together.

Mainly watching only the show for any kind of hint that we have towards what it's like to be Rick and his brain, and his emotional state in general, since I find him fascinating and what he represents is a character, I definitely think this is an interesting contrast about how much differently he thinks and sees things in contrast other people, and how much this portrayal is such an abrasive difference between the way that he say things and miserable he is for it and miserable it would make someone like Jerry, the "mind" of Jerry, so to speak, that he wouldn't even be able to hate to stand having that kind of brain for even 5 minutes. Speaks true to reality to me, for some reason, lol.

The reason why this fascinates me so much isn't really so much because of intelligence or anything like that, but more so the contrast between the neurodivergent and the mentally ill versus the more neurotypical and the more simple. As someone who has been miserable their entire life and has seen things very differently from the people around me and has always wondered how people are so happy and content with the way that things are compared to the way that I see them, for me, this feels like an odd contrast between the neurodivergent and the neurotypical, and how completely miserable the neurodivergent are for the way that they see the state of the world and humanity in general. The thoughtful and the heavy-minded and did the people that are constantly seeing day-to-day life with a certain kind of interpretation that is much heavier and more complex, and with self-reflection towards themselves and existence as a whole and ways that are almost incomprehensible with how much they're constantly turning over in their heads life everyday, versus the brainless and the easy minded, so to speak.

[famousblueraincoatmp3]

have an idea for a story set in my other storys world love when they (visions) just come to me

[musashi]

i want more nuance to be entered into the discussion of the green girl sorority and how differently cynthia plays elphaba in comparison to those who came before her because while a lot of people are rightfully like "why was elphaba not black from the beginning" and celebrating that she is now being played by a black woman, i think we need to be careful in just writing off all the elphabas of the past as Random White Girls when the role was championed (and often followed/succeeded) by a jewish woman

the pop culture archetype of the Wicked Witch has deep roots in antisemitism stretching faaaar far back. there is a level of reclamation happening in casting idina menzel, a jewish woman, to play the Misunderstood and Maligned young girl who is branded as exactly that. and stage!Elphaba is also written and acted with jewish stereotypes in mind--she is loud, aggressive, no-nonsense, blunt. she is quick to advocate for herself and shut down the discrimination she faces. all of this is very intentional! her personality is abrasive from years of abuse, and that makes propagandizing her easy. this is literally the thesis statement of the musical--it's not about aptitude, it's the way you're viewed.

cynthia's performance of elphaba is fucking INSPIRED despite going in a completely different direction. she's much more reserved, analytical, one of her key character traits is how well she can read people (see her calling out Galinda as insecure/putting on airs in their first scene together, clocking that Fiyero is using his party guy persona as a shield for his own depression) elphaba's attempts to blend in and make herself smaller all fail simply because of her existence, if not that then because she feels empathy so strongly she often struggles to hold back from acting, protecting.

personality wise, though, cynthia's elphaba is very quiet and closed-off, not at all the bullet-to-the-face that she is in the stage show, and... she still gets propagandized and maligned. though this seems to contradict the other interpretation, it tells of the other end of the spectrum of propaganda, one that black women watching (and many, MANY other marginalized folks) are sure to identify with--it does not matter how "nice," how reserved, how small a black woman makes herself. a racist society will still scrutinize her every action for a way to parse ill intent from it, brand her as an angry black woman who is dangerous and wicked, and write off any humanity she has in the process.

these two very different interpretations tell of the lie of assimilation. the fact of the matter is, when you are marginalized, there is no way to sand down your edges enough to make the people oppressing you "accept" you. that is why wicked is a tragedy at its core. whether loud and aggressive or quiet and unimposing, there is nothing elphaba could have done to make the people of Oz see her as anything other than a scapegoat to blame all their problems on.

so while i definitely appreciate that people are excited for black girl era elphaba, i would encourage us all to still show appreciation for what came before--that was not white girl era elphaba. that was jewish girl era elphaba. two houses, both alike in dignity, two stories both worth being told.

[absoluteabsolem]

sarah z's new vid is about "the most hated season of buffy" and i thought it was going to be s04 because well. obviously lmao but it's THE SIXTH ??? my FAVOURITE season since forever ??????????? you see this is why democracy doesn't work people just don't know what's good for them

[gothicfied]

can you write a squid game fic or head cannons of other characters finding out the reader is struggling with self harm? If so, thank you and I understand it is a sensitive topics and may be uncomfortable to write.

Squid Game season 2 characters x reader who struggles with sh

Featuring: Thanos / Player 230, Se-mi / Player 380, Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120, Nam-gyu / Player 124, Kang Dae-ho / Player 388, Park Min-su / Player 125, Kim Jun-hee / Player 222

(Trigger) Warnings: Mention/Talk about sh, depression, and things of this nature, this is comfort/angst, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Summary: Basically what the ask says

A/N: hey! I hope this is what you imagined, sorry if some of these are ooc😞🙏

Thanos / Player 230

જ⁀➴ Before he really knew, he'd constantly make your life a living hell, basically making fun of your shyness. He'd make certain comments to which he knew you wouldn't react to or would try to persuade you to vote in favor of the game containing.

જ⁀➴ You'd constantly tell him off and to leave you alone. It didn't really help, though. Thanos would just sit down next to you and talk your ear off about what he wanted to do with that prize money.

જ⁀➴ When you stood up to leave, rollung your eyes at him, he grabbed you by your wrist.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Thanos blurted out, giving you an offended glare. "You know, it's really rude to just leave a conversation like that." When you tried to get out of his grip, your sleeves rode up your arm, revealing scars you weren't proud of or wanted him to see. When you realized it, he did too, immediately letting go of you.

જ⁀➴ Since Thanos knew what it meant to struggle with mental health he did actually leave you alone for now. But, after the next game, he approached you again and sat down next to you. "I'm sorry about yesterday." he said, patting you on the back.

જ⁀➴ He related to you in a way, but didn't want to ask you about what went on in your private life. Now you just appreciated that he seemingly didn't overstep any boundaries anymore and even checked up from you every now and then.

Se-mi / Player 380

જ⁀➴ You and her had been a duo ever since she came up to you and complimented your looks. Even if you denied it or not, she'd repeat it multiple times, winning you over with her charm quickly.

જ⁀➴ You two had the same mindset on a lot of things, originally voting 'O', thinking you were able to survive one more lousy game. That game was a death scare. Nothing about it was funny anymore. You appreciated your life too much these days to die like this.

જ⁀➴ When the second favor didn't go your way, both Se-mi and you now voting 'X', you felt helpless. One night, the two of you were sitting on her bed, just talking about your past and how you got to this point in the first place. While Se-mi was more secluded, only telling you that 'there are so much worse things she had to face when she got out' you trusted her enough to tell her about a sensitive time in your life.

"I'm not really secretive about this anymore," you pushed your sleeves up, revealing faded scars along your forearm, "but yeah. It was all pretty fucked up. The whole debt thing didn't make it any better." Se-mi looked at you with raised eyebrows, her fingers tracing the lines on your wrists. "I knew you were strong. Don't worry, we'll get out of here."

જ⁀➴ She put in double the work to protect you — She just wanted you to start a better life with that money and be happy, free from debt and all of it.

Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120

જ⁀➴ Hyun-ju noticed from the start that you were more secluded, more prone to cry, panicked easily. It was clear to her that you were struggling with this situation, perhaps even more than that. She made it her task to help you as much as she could, comfort you and keep you close to her and her group.

જ⁀➴ You'd often rant to her and tell her what bothered you after she reassured her she'd take care of anything possible. Hyun-ju was the anker you needed in this shithole and you just appreciated her very much. Everything she did seemed to be out of genuine interest and not just to gain your trust and abuse it.

જ⁀➴ Accidentally, Hyun-ju did catch a glimpse of the scars you were so desperate to hide. She didn't mention it, feeling like it wasn't her place to comment on it. Her heart did break for you, though.

જ⁀➴ From then on, she made sure to speak softer to you and distract you from all the horror around you.

Hyun-ju hugged you tightly against her chest, her arms engulfing your figure. "Tonight things could get a bit scary," she mumbled into your hair while she rested her face against your head, "I just want you to know now rather than find out later. I'll keep you safe, you know that." You just nodded, reciprocating the hug after a few moments.

Nam-gyu / Player 124

જ⁀➴ When he found out, as you didn't make the effort to hide them or anything, he did refrain from provoking you in any way. Nam-gyu related, as he considered his drug use not to be the best thing he could do to his body.

જ⁀➴ Both of you hung around in the same group, since Thanos really wanted you on his team, constantly giving you compliments and flirting with you. It annoyed him to a degree, scoffing everytime Thanos tried to talk to him about how pretty you were, how much he wanted you, give you the world. In Nam-gyu's opinion, he didn't get you.. didn't get what you went through, at all.

જ⁀➴ One evening before lights out, the two of you were teasing each other about something and laughed together — something that rarely occured amongst the other players.

"Want me to show you something?" Nam-gyu asked you, leaning a bit closer. Chuckling, you replied with a 'mhm' and watched him pull up the sleeve of his jacket, revealing skin tracks along the inside of his elbow. You raised an eyebrow: "Oh?" You took his arm to get a closer look, tracing his skin with your fingertips. "Well, we all have our stories, huh?" The man nodded at your wrists, making you look at them too, like you didn't already know what he meant.

જ⁀➴ The both of you grew close to each other, much to his amuse. He was a junkie, you were depressed.. it's like a disaster in the making. But, you didn't care. He was sweet and weirdly kind to you — Not in the way Thanos was. You made sure to hug Nam-gyu a few times more after that, in case it could be the last timd you'd get to do that.

Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

જ⁀➴ You were glad to be on Gi-hun's team from the start, since Dae-ho and you got along really well. As a former Marine, which he was super proud of obviously, he declared he'd protect you immediately after you met, making you laugh.

જ⁀➴ He was kind, strong and funny, but maybe a bit oblivious at times.

During the six-legged pentathlon, you two sat next to each other, cheering the current active team on. Yelling and screaming filled the area as they crossed the finish lind just in time, making everyone erupt in cheers. Dae-ho immediately hugged you with joy, excited to see the five live another day, at least. After pulling back witha laugh, you gave him a small high five with your sleeve rolled back. When noticing scars along your wrist and forearm, the former marine gasped pretty loudly. "What?" you asked with genuine concerning, fearing something was wrong with you. "Oh, I'm so sorry," Dae-ho pulled your sleeve back over your arm. "Dude," he looked at you with wide eyes "it's fine." You needed to hold back a laugh.

જ⁀➴ Dae-ho felt so bad to havs accidentally seen something you've been struggling with, that he couldn't help but apologize profusely. You repeated to him that it wasn't a big deal for you and that you were working on this problem, but he didn't stop nonetheless.

જ⁀➴ You thought it was cute how much he seemed to care for you and how often he came up to you just to tell you that he appreciated you. And Dae-ho did, he didn't just say that to make you feel better.

Park Min-su / Player 125

જ⁀➴ Min-su is just shy over all. When he noticed it, he wouldn't say a thing. He'd be dead silent, maybe even a bit scared to talk to you. He was just scared he'd make it awkward, somehow hinting that he knew about your scars. Min-su was just someone who overthought a lot and even you noticed it.

જ⁀➴ After a bit, it annoyed you — The sudden lack of his presence next to you, the fact that he wouldn't properly talk to you anymore, it was all just weird and confusing. So, you decided to ask him directly.

"Did I do something wrong?" your voice wasn't stern, but Min-su could tell that you were kind of upset. "Ah, no-" he quickly replied back, shaking his head, "it's really not you!" He looked at you with his typical innocent face, making it hard for you to keep pressing him about this matter. "Then what is it, seriously?"

જ⁀➴ He explained what he saw and said that he just felt so sorry. Well, at least he didn't speak to you because he didn't want to hurt or upset you, which was really thoughtful.

જ⁀➴ You'd expect that he would now be the one to comfort you or something, but no it was the complete opposite. Min-su seemed to worried about you and kept asking you how you were feeling or if anything bothered you. You had to keep reassuring him that those times were in the past and that he didn't have to be so worried.

જ⁀➴ It was really cute though, so you let it slide.

Kim Jun-hee / Player 222 (implied fem!reader)

જ⁀➴ Since Jun-hee and you were pretty close in age, you two had found each other right away. You kept telling her that she needed more protection, or at least an ally like you, on her side sincs she was pregnant. You weren't really serious about that, just chuckling when bringing it up, but ut definitely made Jun-hee trust you a lot more. It was a critical situation she was in and she was glad to have you by her side.

જ⁀➴ You even banged on the door in the middle of the night to make the guards take her to the bathroom when she was to shy to do it herself.

As ths pink guard brought you to the womens bathroom, Jun-hee held onto you, clearly being in pain. A few minutes later, you were washing your hands and tried to fix yourself up, looking a bit disgusted in the mirror. "What is it?" Jun-hee emerged from one of the stalls, chuckling. "Man, I look like a damn zombie. Look what this place has done to us." Instead of getting a reply, you noticed that she was staring at your arms, at your scars. You had taken your jacket off for convenience and kind of forgot about them. "Oh, I'm sor-" Jun-hee interrupted you, "No! No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stared like that!"

જ⁀➴ Obviously everyone had their struggles, but now her own kind of seemed insignificant next to yours. You were doing so much for her and she didn't even know that you were struggling. She should've thought of that.

જ⁀➴ When voicing that thought to you, you felt bad that you made her feel like that. With a hug, it was all sorted out. Jun-hee cared deeply for you and she could tell that you cared for her like that, too. It was nice to know that someone had your back in a place like this.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Thousand Yard Stare Chapter 6

Summary: Bucky Barnes has served his country well, and at a great personal cost.  After being rescued as a prisoner of war, he is struggling as he gets back into civilian life.  His newfound PTSD is severe.  His friends and family try to help, but he needs a lot more than they can give.  His mother signs him up for a Veteran recovery home, where he meets people struggling just like him, and the home director who has her own dark past to deal with.  He might just find love along the way as he searches for peace.

Warnings: mentions of physical assault, violence, being taken prisoner; sexual assault/r@pe; PTSD/anxiety/depression/panic attacks, flashbacks, nightmares; suicide/minor character death; eventual smut

Previous chapter Next chapter

8 months later

Bucky was not okay.  He went through the motions of civilian life.  He’d found a part time job doing office administration, which he hated.  Steve and Sam had tried helping him get back into regular life, inviting him to parties and get togethers with other friends, trying to get him going to clubs with them, meeting people, dating, but his heart wasn’t in it.  He was living in the guest house behind his parent’s home, since he couldn’t afford to get his own place, and as much as he loved his parents, it was hard living under their watchful eyes.  He had all the support and resources open to him, but he just could not stop thinking of her.

He hadn’t told anyone about his almost-relationship with Y/N, but Steve and Sam had been suspicious of something happening when he rejected their attempts to set him up on dates.  “Buck, did something…happen while you were there?” Steve bit the bullet one day as they sat in the backyard having a beer.

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked.

Steve sighed.  “Don’t bullshit me, Buck.  I know something’s up.  I could see it when we visited Mama’s House for Thanksgiving,” he said, giving Bucky an unimpressed look.  Bucky tensed up, looking away from him. “You like her,” Steve said.  “And I think something happened with her while you were there, but circumstances as they are have made you feel like it’s not a possibility–”

“She made it an impossibility,” Bucky said angrily.  He rubbed his face with his hand.  “I really don’t wanna talk about this, Steve.”

“I know your nightmares have come back,” Steve accused.  Bucky shook his head.  “Your mom heard you the other night, and she called me.”

“God,” Bucky quickly stood.  He chugged the rest of his beer and went back inside the guest house.  

“Buck, come on,” Steve said, quickly following him.  “I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”

“I don’t want or need your help, Steve,” Bucky rounded on him.  “I’m back, aren’t I?  Isn’t that what you all wanted?  For me to come home and get back into regular life?”

“Not if it makes you this miserable,” Steve shook his head.  

Bucky stared at him.  “I’m not miserable.”

Steve scoffed.  “Sure.  If you’re not miserable then come out with me and Sam, try to actually have fun, hook up with somebody, something!  But you can’t keep living like your mind is still there.”  He clapped Bucky’s shoulder.  “I’m sorry whatever it was didn’t work out with her.  But you’ve got to work past it.”

Bucky felt so tired.  A part of him wanted to move on, but the thought of that also made him feel sick.  He patted Steve’s hand.  “Fine.  When were you guys planning on going out?”

Steve smiled.  “Friday night karaoke.”

Bucky sighed.  “Fuck me.”

***

TRIGGER WARNING

Bucky didn’t like this bar as much as the one near Mama’s House.  It was fine but didn’t have the hometown feel, and it was filled with undergrads that made him feel old and out of place.  Each person who got up and sang was terrible, with only a few that could hold a tune, and he knew there wouldn’t be any saving grace at the end of the night.  Sam got up and sang “Edge of Glory” by Lady Gaga, which was the only time Bucky laughed all night.  

There was also a lot more dancing at this bar.  Whether it was during a karaoke performance or the music that was played in between people, there were people dancing and grinding up on each other constantly.  He had to maneuver his way through the crowd so as not to get accidentally thrusted at after grabbing another beer from the bar.  There had been a few brave, flirty souls who had come up to him, Steve and Sam, but Bucky had rebuffed their advances.  It just didn’t feel right.

While the three of them went back up to the bar again for another refill Bucky was suddenly grabbed from behind and pulled into the crowd of people dancing.  He tried to turn and see who was touching him but being surrounded by a tight group of people made it nearly impossible.  Other hands began touching his arms, his chest, his shoulders.  Drunk voices were all around him.  “Hey handsome…”  “Come dance!”  He tried pushing and pulling their hands away, then stiffened when he felt someone with large hands on his waist thrust their hips, a bulge poking into his ass.  “Pretty boy…”  He blacked out.

***

The buzzing woke Y/N up.  She groaned as she turned over and blindly grabbed for her phone.  Glancing at the clock as the light stung her eyes it read 3:32 a.m.  “What the fuck?” she grumbled.  She sat up on her elbow and answered the call.  “Hello?”

“Y/N!” the voice yelled.  “Please, we can’t find him, you have to help us.  I don’t know–”

“Wait wait,” Y/N sat all the way up.  “Who is this?”

“It’s Winnie,” she cried.  “Bucky’s gone!”

“What?” Y/N was now fully awake.  “What do you mean?  What happened?”

Winnie was uncontrollably crying and she heard a muffled noise as someone else took the phone.  “Y/N?” they said.

“Who is this?” she asked, getting out of bed and starting to get dressed.

“Hey, it’s Steve.”  He sounded exhausted.  “I don’t know what happened.  We took him out tonight to a karaoke bar and he got caught up in the crowd and then there was all this shouting and pushing, then he ran,” he said.  “We tried following him out but he was long gone.  We’ve been searching for hours, trying to call him, but he won’t answer.  We don’t know what to do…Winnie just called thinking you might be of help.”

“Shit,” Y/N sighed as she put on her shoes.  “Send me your address.  It’ll take me a few hours but I’m coming.  I don’t know how much help I’ll be…”

“You don’t have to do that,” Steve said.

“Too bad, I’m coming,” she said as she ran down the stairs, grabbing her wallet and keys and booking it to the front door.  She opened it and as she turned to close and lock it she froze as she looked at the porch swing.  “Steve,” she whispered.  “He’s here.”

“What?!” Steve asked incredulously.  

“Listen,” she said quietly.  “I’ll take care of him and call you guys in the morning, okay?  We’ll figure it all out then.  Just know that he’s here, and overall he looks like he’s okay.”

Steve sighed heavily and she heard a noise like he was rubbing his face.  “Okay, thanks Y/N.”

“No problem. Bye,” she hung up.  She slowly approached the porch swing.  Bucky was laying on it, facing away from her, his long legs dangling over the side.  “Bucky?” she called out.  She reached a hand out and shook his arm gently.  Bucky inhaled shakily.  She leaned over him to find him staring wide-eyed at the porch swing slats.  “Buck,” she reached her hand down and caressed his cheek with the backs of her fingers.  His eyes fluttered shut.  “Come back to me,” she whispered.

Bucky shivered and slowly turned his head to look at her.  When his eyes found her they were wet and his chin trembled.  “Y/N,” he whispered.

“Hey lover boy,” she smiled at him.  “Come on, let’s get you warmed up,” she said, pulling his arm.

Bucky stiffly allowed her to move him, sitting up on the porch swing.  She pulled him to stand and brought his arm around her shoulders.  Y/N led him through the house then to the back buildings.  She unlocked the comfy building, pulling him toward the cuddle room, then had him sit on the bed.  She started pulling his jacket and shoes off and looking him over.

“Are you in any pain?” she asked quietly, her hands checking his hands, arms, feet, ankles, neck, and anything else she could immediately see.

“No,” he mumbled.  She looked at him and saw the tell-tale thousand yard stare.  He was in shock.

“That’s good,” she said, watching him carefully.  She cupped his face in her hands, trying to get him to look at her.  “How did you get here?”

Bucky’s eyes were unfocused.  “Bus,” he murmured.

“For fuck’s sake,” Y/N grumbled.  She couldn’t find any injuries and so she pushed him up further onto the bed, sitting in front of him.  She grabbed his hands, taking one in each of her hands and massaging it.    “Do you wanna tell me what happened?” she asked.

Bucky’s eyes closed.  He seemed to be reveling in the touch on his hands.  “Guy grabbed me,” he muttered.  “Touched me…thrusting at me…hands everywhere…” he shivered again, his free hand tightening into a fist.  Y/N quickly grabbed it, forcing his fingers open to massage his palm.  “I…don’t remember.”

“That’s okay,” Y/N soothed him.  “He shouldn’t have done that without your consent.  That wasn’t right.  I’m sorry you felt unsafe.  It’s okay,” her hands moved up to his wrists, massaging them.  “You’re okay.  You’re safe here.”  She took her time as she moved up his arms to his shoulders, massaging along the way.  Her fingers softly scratched up his neck and his face.  His beard had grown in more, and his hair was even longer than when she last saw him.  Y/N leaned forward and scratched up into his hair, gently smoothing out any knots and massaging his scalp with her fingertips.  Bucky’s eyes flew open and focused on her, flicking across her face like he was finally recognizing her.  “I’ve got you,” she whispered.

Bucky’s face scrunched in pain, his eyes filling with tears and spilling over.  He leaned forward until his head rested on her shoulder, Y/N holding him and shushing him as he cried.  His hands reached out and pulled her toward him, Y/N moving herself to straddle his lap as he hugged her tight.  “I’ve got you,” she murmured into his ear, kissing the side of his head.  She pushed him so he would lay down next to her and held him, pulling a blanket over the both of them.  He nuzzled into her chest as he cried, his tight hold never letting up.  “I’ve got you.”

***

The sun streamed into the room and shone on Bucky’s face.  He groaned at the offending light.  He was so comfortable he didn’t want to move.  The steady beating under his ear was soothing, but the pillow seemed to be moving.  He slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the light, before looking around.  He wasn’t in his room.  He was in…the cuddle room?  The pillow was a body, he was laying on Y/N’s breast.  He moved to sit up and looked up at her.  She was still asleep, her chest rising and falling with each breath, her mouth slightly open and her eyes moving behind her eyelids.  Her arm that cradled his head against her chest was hugging around him, her fingers still poised in his hair.  He smiled.  For the first time in months it was like his heart was settling down, his mind was quiet and his body was at ease.

Bucky settled back down, not wanting to wake her yet, and milk every moment of this peace that he could.  Unfortunately, his squirming made her groan as she stretched next to him, slowly waking up and rubbing her eyes with her free hand.  Y/N looked around momentarily before turning and looking at him.  She sleepily smiled at him.  “Good morning, Buck,” she whispered.

“Good morning,” he answered hoarsely.  He cleared his throat and moved so that he was hovering over her.  He reached a hand up and touched her face, his fingers tracing over her cheek, to her nose, and down her lips.  “I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?” Y/N asked, watching him.

“For this,” he said, looking away.  “Just showing up out of nowhere in the middle of the night, having a panic attack, making you take care of me–”

“No,” Y/N interrupted him.  “You have nothing to apologize for.”  She grabbed the hand near her face and kissed his knuckles.  “I told you, I’ve got you.  But you should probably call your parents.”

Bucky hummed and nodded.  “Probably should.”  He sat up and she joined him, reaching for her phone on the nightstand next to the bed and checking.  She had multiple texts from Winnie, which she quickly answered.  “Your mom’s freaking out,” she said quietly.  “Do you have your phone?”

Bucky checked his pockets and found it.  “Yeah,” he said, trying to turn it on.  “It’s dead.”

“Here,” she said, pulling up Winnie’s phone number.  He thanked her and hit the call button.

“Y/N?” his mother’s voice answered.

“Hey Ma,” Bucky said.

“Bucky!” she yelled, and there was a clattering on the other end and multiple voices calling out.  “What happened?  Oh honey, we were so worried–”

“You fucker!” Sam yelled.

“Sam,” Steve chastised him.  “Buck it’s okay–”

“Bucky,” his father’s voice cut through.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky said, watching Y/N hide her smile at all the concerned voices.  “I’m okay.  I just…had something happen that was triggering.  I honestly don’t remember much of last night.”

George sighed shakily.  “Okay.  I’m so sorry, my boy.  Just, come home, okay?  Do you need a ride?  We can come get you.”

“Dad, can I…” he paused, glancing at Y/N.  She was looking down at the bed.  “Can I call you guys back?  And we’ll figure it out?”

George paused.  “Sure, sure.  Just call back soon, please?”

“I will,” Bucky said reassuringly.  “Love you guys.  I’m sorry–”

“Don’t be!” yelled Steve.

Bucky chuckled and said goodbye once more before hanging up.  He handed Y/N her phone back.  “Thank you,” he said.  

“You’re welcome,” she said, giving him a small, polite smile.  She moved so that her back was against the wall to face him.  They stared at each other for a long moment.  “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked finally.

“Yeah,” he answered, looking at his hands.  “I’ll be okay.  Just had a moment.  I’ll stay away from packed bars for a while until I can work through it.”

“Good idea,” she agreed.  They sat silently again.  “I can drive you home,” she offered.

“I don’t wanna leave,” he whispered.  Another moment of silence.  

“You…you gotta go home, Bucky,” Y/N said.

“I can’t,” Bucky shook his head.  “It doesn’t feel right.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed.  “I feel peace here.  With you.  My mind is finally quiet,” he glanced up at her.  She didn’t move.  “My heart feels calmer.  My anxiety is gone.  Please, don’t send me away,” he reached a hand out and gripped her ankle.  She didn’t move again, but her breathing was getting heavier as she watched him.  Her brow furrowed in the middle and she looked sadly at him.  “I’ll move up here,” he said, scooting forward.  “I can work here, for you, keeping up the property, doing office stuff, whatever it is you need from me,” he said more earnestly.  Y/N opened her mouth to protest.  “Yes, my family and friends are there,” he interrupted her, “but that doesn’t make it home.  You’re home,” he said, sitting in front of her, cupping her face in his hands.  Y/N closed her eyes, hesitantly nuzzling her face into his palm.  “My life is here.  You’re my life.  You, and this house, and this work, and Teddy,” he chuckled, and she snickered with him.  “All I want is this.  All I want is you,” he leaned forward and kissed her nose.  “Please, Y/N,” he whispered.  “I’ll do whatever you need, whatever you want,” he rested his forehead against her forehead, his nose tracing along her cheek.  “I’ll be your lover boy, for as long as you’ll have me.”  

Y/N giggled.  “How can you say so many sweet things and sprinkle something dirty in there?”  

“See?  I’m fun to have around,” Bucky said.  

Y/N looked up at him, the desire in her face giving him hope.  “I want you,” she said.  “I’ve missed you…so much,” her voice wobbled with emotion.  “I just don’t want to take you from your family.”

“They’ll understand,” Bucky said, kissing her cheek.  “Dad will probably want to move up here anyways.”

Y/N huffed a laugh and shook her head.  “You would drop everything to stay here?  With me?”

Bucky nodded.  “I love you.  I would have done it 8 months ago if you’d let me.”

Y/N smiled softly.  “I thought I was doing the right thing.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.”  She nuzzled her nose against his.  “You’re so much more than inappropriate timings and stolen moments,” she said.  

Bucky sighed and pulled her into his lap, his hands on her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck.  “You love me?”

“Yes,” Y/N said, nodding.

He leaned in and kissed her cheek.  “Say it.”

Y/N smiled teasingly.  “Or what?”

Bucky looked at her in surprise.  “Hm, so you’re not always Mommy are you?”

Y/N blushed and shrugged.  “I said sometimes, didn’t I?”  

Bucky’s eyes narrowed.  “Brat,” he called her teasingly.  Y/N’s eyes widened.  Bucky leaned in again and kissed her other cheek, then her jaw, her chin, then the side of her mouth.  She tried to chase his lips but he moved away and a small whine escaped her throat.  “Say it,” he whispered against her skin.  Y/N minutely shook her head and he groaned.  He started kissing up to her forehead, over her eyelids, her nose, and back to her other cheek, littering kisses all over her face but just out of reach of her lips.  Y/N tried to guide his face back to her mouth but he grabbed her wrists and held them behind her.  She gasped as he kissed her neck.

“Bucky…” she whimpered.

“Say it,” he grunted, nipping at her collarbone.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“Again,” he licked a long stripe up her jugular.

“I love you,” Y/N said a little louder.

“Again,” he growled in her ear.

“Fuck, I love you,” she moaned loudly, pulling at her wrists in his firm hold.

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckled before releasing her wrists.

“God,” Y/N sighed, cupping his face in her hands again.  She leaned in and started kissing all over his face.  Her hips started to grind down on him, making his breath stutter.  “Are you trying to drive me crazy?  We can’t do this in here,” she breathed.

“Then let me take you out,” Bucky said, trying to keep his wits about him.  He stopped her kissing, even though he really didn’t want to, and made her look at him.  “You can drive me back, I’ll tell my family and friends what’s going on, and then we’ll come back home, and I’ll take you out sometime.  Or,” his hands ran up her sides, his fingertips barely sliding over the sides of her breasts, “you can sing me another song next karaoke night, and I can show you just how much it affects me every time you sing?  Especially those sexy songs?”

Y/N hummed as she scratched the back of his neck gently.  “It all sounds perfect,” she sighed.  

Bucky smiled, leaning in and finally kissing her lips.  “Then let’s go.”

@wintrsoldrluvr @isitbiorisitlesbian @starfly-nicole @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger @idontknowhowtonormal

[oblique-lane]

Spy tf2 and his identity

Character analysis (or at least my vision on him, if you believe my reasoning)

What do we know about Spy? He's a disguise mastermind. He can pretend to be anyone in order to infiltrate into the scene to do his job - quite literally, stab people on the back. But when he's not in the battle, what is he to his teammates? A suave Frenchman, a gentleman with taste, somewhat a leader.

At least, that's the persona he prefers to show. But is he really..?

What if I tell you that this person never drops his disguise?

For a man who always wears a mask and who's identity being secret is a sacred part of his role in this job, isn't this persona too much to show if it is real? Frenchman, rich, ladykiller... Wouldn't it be too easy to decipher his identity with so much clues provided? Wouldn't it be dangerous?

While Miss Pauling and the Administrator definitely know Spy's real identity, hiding it is a major thing for whatever reason. One could assume it might be because of Scout (obvious guess) but I doubt he's a sole reason. Spy very much enjoys being the Spy all by himself. Do what's the deal?

Let's start from the beginning.

Why did Spy join Mann Co. in the first place?

Let's take this assumption as a fact: people come here out of desperation. They are professionals in their field, yet in their past/casual life there is a pattern of them having difficulties that push them into joining this service. I don't see why Spy would be an exception.

The reason for joining is usually money. Some people question why Spy, a wealthy man from higher society, would join Mann Co. if he has it all already.

Well, probably because he really does not.

Have you ever met an aristocrat? Wealthy people don't get so protective about their expensive suits, they can afford cleaning or a new one. Regardless, rich people don't usually get stingy about material goods, especially if they're mass produced.

At least, not those who were born into wealth.

Spy's defensiveness about his "wealthy stuff", his pomp-ness, disgust and arrogance towards "plebs" gives off a man who knows what it means to live in poverty and who doesn't want to be associated with it ever again.

(Not even talking about his own filthy habits such as not washing his mask and pissing on walls? Jesus Christ)

Dare I even guess that he might be not French at all? His French is so broken. (Although, so is Medic's German, but at least he uses his language much more frequently and in more complex sentences, while Spy only uses French to say some basic expressions, occasionally confusing them with other languages). Definitely not a native.

If anything, he's not giving "rich man" at all, he's giving con man. And that fits my picture perfectly.

So, poor upbringing. How old is Spy? If he's Scout's father (and he was young when he was conceived), I'd say he's no less than 20 years older than him. I'd give him a few more years actually. So, approximately Spy is around 50 at the events of the game (1968-1972). Let's assume he was born somewhere in the 1910s.

Even if he's not French, I still agree that he's probably European. Hmm, what was happening in Europe at the time Spy was a kid?

Oh yeah. The Great Depression.

See my picture: imagine, a child from a lower class family during the Great Depression, his parents were most likely to not take good care about him (both because of the economical situation AND as an echo to Spy's struggles with his own fatherhood). He has to run away from home early and start to make money. Any way possible.

Unavoidably, it leads to crime.

Petty theft, blackmail, scams. Changing identities. Selling low quality products and services. Changing identities again. When older, seducing rich women to stay at their homes overnight, be fed and supported. Running away from the police. Walking into a trap of the mafia, and then joining them as their goon.

In this nightmare of a life he just had to keep pretending to be someone else, someone better and stronger, in order to his ego to not completely shutter. He had to imagine he was an invincible mastermind trickster of some sort, not just a poor boo-hoo victim of poverty who has never knew normal life and care.

And if you pretend for long enough, you become your role eventually... Right?

His true self was long lost forgotten under many layers of new identities. Worse, his true self was never known. And he didn't want it to be known in its ugly and disgusting vulnerability. Narcissism became his lifeline.

It's so much better to be Spy. To be rich and elegant and respected. His ego rebuilt.

[rxmye]

" 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 . . . "

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐂 / 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 — Yoichi Mikami . . introduction | masterlist | requesting rules . . warnings : nsfw content / sixteen + content / gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / Yoichi is aimed at people with a savior complex tbh / yandere content / pathetic yandere / submissive(?) yandere /

a/n: this is just a character sheet of some general info alongside nsfw and sfw headcanons below . .

Appearance: Yoichi has fair skin and soft brown hair, which is slightly wavy and it reaches all the way down to the bottom of his neck; it's well kept as he has this obsession with his hair. He has light hazel coloured eyes and soft pink heart shaped lips. He has the inverted triangle body type, so a slim waist. He's toned but nothing over the top, his physique is mainly thanks to his close friend Lucas forcing him to join when working out. Yoichi has slim Vieny hands, and stands at a tall 6ft in height. Yoichi has many piercings, truly the embodiment of "You're not depressed, you just need to get your skin pierced", with 3 different ear piercings, a tongue piercing, and to top it all off a eyebrow piercing. (He has yet to get a lip piercing, but let's be honest, he's one melt down away from getting one).

Character basic info: Yoichi's birthday is on June 12th, he is Pansexual, and emophilia which is a tendency to fall in love fast, he's a hopeless romantic as heart and is more of a obsessive and delusional type of yandere/stalker. His has many hobbies, which includes but is not limited to, cooking, drawing, writing, photography and etc . . Yoichi has a major sweet-tooth, and is not that picky with what he eats but hates peppers with a passion . .

backstory: Yoichi is currently attending university, he's in med school and plans on becoming a surgeon, currently completing his bachelors. Yoichi comes from a well-off family, he's old money and his family is pretty traditional but rather accepting when it comes to him as he is an only child. His parents have always been reserved with affection except when it came to each other and though he's aware they care and love him, he often times craves to fill the missing gap with his romantic entanglements, hoping for something similar to what he saw his parents having, . . which has led him to being a hopeless romantic. Yoichi has always struggled with sleep, but now has found a remedy that comes in the form of y/n . . and he does not intend on letting them go . . .

NSFW | 16 + CONTENT BELOW THE UNDERCUT . . .

Yoichi's love language is quality time and physical touch, the feeling of skin on skin, your touch, the smell of your hair, the scent of your sweat as your embrace him closely is something he wishes he could stitch into his brain. Yoichi is willing to die in the comfort of your touch, your embrace, to let you swallow him whole is his dream.

Despite that, Yoichi is a switch, he has no personal preference when it comes to who's taking the lead in bed and has a high libido, yet he wants nothing more than to feel as much of your skin as possible, he wants to swallow your breath—to become one. He'll take anything you give him, and expects the same in return.

Despises bondage for that very reason, restrainment will drive him insane—he'll whine, he'll cry. . if he can't feel you, if he can't reach out and let his hands touch your pretty hair, grip your thighs . . Same applies to blindfolding him, he needs to see! He needs to feel, see, touch, smell, taste you, he needs you to overwhelm his senses!! You can't do that to him!!

Cock-warming would be torture, it would be a punishment for him, he'll do his best to behave, but honestly he'll be a crying and pleading mess in no time, you mean you're going to let him stay inside you . . yet not let him move? You feel warm, wet, and amazing, he wants to feel more . . let him have more . .

He's more of a groaner then a grunter, he whines and has a habit of overstimulating himself, which leads him to overstimulating you. . He just needs more, thursting deeper into your walls, touching you, his mouth on your neck, fingers teasing your nipples, sharp teeth sinking its fangs into your flesh, he wont stop unless he himself is on the brink of passing out, fingers gripping ever so tightly on your waist, thighs, fucking into you sloppily and messily, he'll leave both you and himself a crying mess . . as drool drips down onto your chin.

Aftercare is usually something he has to prepare before hand, because with the way he goes, it'll be unlikely that either of you will have energy to move out of bed, most of the time he'll have snacks and drinks prepared for afterwards, and you both will spend the time cuddling.

He despises quickies or voyeurism, he doesn't mind fucking you against the window, or when someone is near, but he dislikes the idea of doing it outside of the bedroom harshly, sex is intimate . . and he wishes to keep it as such.

With that, he also dislikes degrading, other then the few small occasions. However, this man adores receiving and giving praise, he'll compliment everything, voicing how much he adores you—the way you taste, the way you moan his name, your fucked out expression when he goes a little bit faster then before.

On the other hand, Yoichi really really really likes being degraded, he'll never voice it—but go ahead! Call him a pervert while he kneels at your feet, worshipping your body as it should be!!! Call him sick and twisted, please call him names, choke him—Oh . . he also loves it when his partners get aggressive.

Also, bite him, scratch him, dig your nails into him, pull his hair, he loves anything with a sting or mark that's left behind . .

NON-NSFW HEADCANONS

Yoichi is a obsessive, delusional, and stalker type of yandere, he often writes down his fantasies in a book, and isn't afraid to get violent when needed, he'll defend himself by repeating a lie over and over till he believes it—till it erases any guilt or remorse he feels. He's willing to kill, he's willing to do all of that, because if it came down to it, he'll lie to himself, so much so, that even he himself will convince his mind to believe that yes, he did the right thing . .

He's skilled at stalking, yet he rarely risks breaking into your house—out of fear he may leave one thing misplaced and you'll catch on, his insomniac, sleep deprived mind is paranoid and anxiety ridden, and he cannot risk anything of that sort, he may watch you from outside your window, he'll move near you, he'll follow your around the neighborhood to satisfy his whims . . he'll stage coincidental meet-ups at class, clubs, etc, until he can come into your home as a friend lover!!

As he can't sleep without your scent, he often tries to satisfy his whims by buying similar perfume/cologne as you use, it does the job for awhile, and he's at least able to sleep a bit, he still prefers the smell of your old clothes, and the real thing more . . .

Yoichi often writes letters to his darling, that he refuses to send out of fear that they might call the authorities, despite knowing full well they'll do nothing about it, since he's not a 'huge threat' to them. He had done his research before this entire fiasco, and has taken to imitating traits of famed stalkers in movies and documentaries so no one catches him.

Also, he isn't the type to steal underwear or anything of the sort, he's much more above and mature then that. . instead he steals all the clothes you plan on donating, because what greater purpose can they have but being a part of his shrine, collection, horde. Same with any tangible items, why should he dig through the trash? No, he couldn't have dirty hands when he plans on touching his darling in the future (he's a germaphobe) rather, he'll offer to throw out that juice box, that piece of gum you have wrapped up in a tissue, yeah . . and then stuff it in his pocket.

want more, buy my limited time only advent calendar?

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[lilliangst]

biblically accurate, semi-realistic candace or kandake, who was a nubian queen

image renders:

Incoming yap about the current genshin problem:

As a Chinese person swarmed by western media, Liyue means so, so much to me. Seeing the culture that I've been taught to be ashamed of all my life being represented so accurately and positively makes me incredibly happy. It was the first time I saw the famous landscapes that I've visited in person and recreated a fantasy game. Seeing characters wear clothes with similar designs to what I’ve worn and eating similar foods to what I’ve eaten, is indescribable. The euphoria I felt when I first climbed atop of Qingyun Peak and heard the music is something I wish I could experience again.

That being said, Sumeru was a mess, and Natlan is just depressing. What I would give to have people from SEA/SWANA, Latin America, Africa, and Indigenous groups etc. to feel the same way I did when strolling through Liyue.

HYV’s colorism isn’t just stifling their character designs; by whitewashing real-life people, real cultures and even their deities, they are inadvertently whitewashing history. They are taking from actual ethnic groups: learning their history and struggles, then retelling these narratives after replacing their people with bleached protagonists in orientalist clothing.

All this because of what? Out of touch beauty standards? The possibility of lower sales? Dehya is extremely loved in China and her fans donated thousands to a children’s charity in her name. Other Chinese companies like Lilith Games and Bluepoch don’t have this problem. Dislyte is able to consistently pump out gorgeous character designs with varying skin tones and Reverse:1999 makes accurate designs and does in-depth research into the cultures of their characters.

It’s a basic lack of respect.

I've heard that Iranian players were extremely happy and touched by their representation, and that's amazing. And most European, Chinese, and Japanese players are fine with theirs. I just wish this extended to the representation of people with skin tones that are darker.

HYV has shown that they are capable of making characters with darker skin tones and interesting designs, but they will only do that for npcs and enemies. Orientalism, culture mash-ups and inaccuracies across regions is unfortunately common in the game, but the problem with the unchanging pale color of playable characters reflects an obvious and sinister bigotry. I do personally believe that a lot of this has to do with the meddling of higher-ups; many playable characters look like they’ve been white-washed at the end of the process, and just from an art/design standpoint, they fit darker skin-tones much, much better.

It is impossible for Genshin to be a fully “fictional fantasy game” because they chose to bear the responsibility of incorporating real life cultures into their world-building. The criticisms about Sumeru and Natlan are what they brought upon themselves. If you don’t want to represent properly, don’t do it at all. You cannot take everything from a culture and leave their people out of it. They deserve the same respect and research as the region representing your own nation.

For the people who have seen themselves represented in media over and over again, or for those who do not care about being represented at all: even if YOU don't care, others do, and they have a damn good reason for it. This is a big deal, it isn’t too much to ask for, and I will be blocking racists. Peace.

[rawan-soso]

As the adults struggle to find food and keep a roof over everyone’s heads, the children of northern Gaza also have their own struggles. Their mental health is in a horrible state.

I hesitated to talk about this. I don’t want people to think we have so many donations that we can afford to buy my sister toys. It’s not that we can afford it. It’s just that sometimes we have to skip a meal to buy something for her because the boredom is making her even more depressed. She has severe trauma, she has seen bombs dismember people, she has escaped multiple massacres with us. But now the other kids in the building keep breaking her toys while playing and we can't buy a new one immediately, because there are more urgent things. The cheapest thing in northern Gaza right now is makeup, because no one needs it, so I bought some. I apply it on myself and Soso to make her happy, but I don’t always have the energy or time to play with her. I’m exhausted, sick and malnourished, and I still have to do chores and spend hours at the market looking for the most affordable food, clothes, and hopefully medicine.

We have many expenses that we don’t talk about because people won’t see them as vital. Phone chargers (only used ones that die fast, because new ones are insanely expensive). A fee for the neighbors who have the internet router. Phone bills and data. Toys for the children. School books and private tutors for students.

You’re right, it wouldn’t be vital if the war had only lasted for a week. But it’s been more than a year. Our children’s mental health is destroyed, especially children as young as Soso who is only 4 years old and whose brain is developing in a genocide. Students can’t just stop studying for all this time. My other sister missed her entire last year of high school, but she wants to take university entrance exams. Dropping out of university because of the war has killed everything in me. I can’t let her experience the same kind of loss, so I pay for her books, for paper and printing, for private tutoring classes.

I had to buy three phone chargers in a month. The first one was $70. Days later, it was $100. Two days ago, a neighbor fried the second charger, and the new one was $200. I cried that day, because it wasn't even my fault. The prices of everything keep going up and I feel like I’m going insane. Even our landlord tried to increase the rent. It’s okay if I sacrifice meals. I’m used to hunger. But I have three younger siblings and I can’t watch them lose even more than they already have. I want them to study and play. I want them to eat and stay warm.

Please help me. When all of this is over, I’ll get my degree, find a good job, and I’ll never ask for anything again. But as long as the war keeps going, I need your help. I promise your donations don’t go to waste. Food and rent will always be the priority. Soso and my grandmother are the first beneficiaries. We always think carefully before buying anything. I hope we can reach the final goal soon, and that it will cover all expenses until the war ends, because I’m so tired of relying on strangers. I hate asking for money. I’m eternally grateful to anyone who helps, but the guilt won’t fade, because I wanted to be an independent girl and help my family myself. I'm exhausted and depressed.

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