#i think its funny to hate on the inhumans and all but there was nothing wrong with what he did there
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lovecatsys · 1 year ago
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whyyy do people keep listing Hank being allies with the Inhumans as if its as bad as all the other shit he's done
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senseandaccountability · 5 months ago
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What's your verdict of Dragon Age the Veilguard now two months down the road? How do you think fandom has reacted to it, compared to the other new titles that you can remember (I know you're a long-time fan)?
(Two months + a fair amount of weeks at this point, sorry for the delay, anon.) This is going to be salty, I’m afraid and a bit like beating on a dead horse but you did ask, thank you for that and sorry about being whiny.
My first impression was that it’s a 6/10 game. I think now upon replaying it two times, the score is even lower. It’s a very mid game that’s also clearly a salvaged product from a long and erratic production cycle. It has some good lore, some good writing, but it’s hidden almost entirely in optional side quests, subtext and the tiny margins of the text. 
Overall its way too much of a high stakes/low tension kind of game for me. It’s fun and it never truly grabs me except for the bits that are about previous characters. I don’t care about Rook. I like them well enough for a protag, I can fill them with headcanon to make them real but I would easily sacrifice them at the end without a second thought. There’s no pull, no tension, nothing to hold on to. I've tried to write fic about Rook but I just don't know anything about this person apart from the fact that they're very young and likes to say the word team a lot. Maybe Rook works in HR.
For all its high stakes, the game also repeatedly fails to show me these stakes. It keeps telling me how important it is, how busy we are and during the Siege of Weisshaupt and Blood of Arlathan, I really do feel it, momentarily. Those quests have weight to them, and they are tied in with the overall narrative of the series. We know the wardens, we know the Dalish. They matter. 
“Sometimes it takes the wrong sort to put it right,” the game says and doesn’t even dare to show me a single shred of moral ambiguity in Rook. Call me annoying but I don’t necessarily want to feel like a hero. I don’t need to feel morally righteous about my player character. I want the narrative to be complex and challenge me and hold compassion for the world it’s telling me about, dare me to change my mind about its characters and their various plights. What if the hero is wrong? What if the world is too complex to be reduced to simple choices? What if the trusted mentor lies and the liar tells the truth? What then? Somewhere in the far distance DAV wants to offer some complexity but hey we have EVIL ANCIENT GODS TO FIGHT YO! I actually hate the tone. I said early on that it’s one of my main gripes and I stand by it.  It’s chipper and full of HR-department tidiness and in general it just doesn’t move me because it’s just telling, not showing me the emotions. THIS IS THE EMOTION CALLED DOUBT, the game screams in my face. LET'S HAVE A TALK WITH THE TEAM TO PUT IT RIGHT. Immediately after finishing DAV, I went and played Disco Elysium and the contrast was quite honestly heartbreaking. Because the tone in that funny, sarcastic and over the top writing? It’s compassionate. It wants to be truthful about what it’s like to be a human living in a broken, inhuman world. It cares. Veilguard more often feels like an action movie revenge plot where you get to punch some EVIL ANCIENT GODS in the face because they want to drown the world in demons, man, let’s just leave it at that lol omg you can even PUNCH Solas lol whatever thanks bye.  
I also just find the text flat. It doesn’t have the transtextuality I’ve come to appreciate in the other DA games, it doesn’t play much with differences in dialogue for the different characters - like making one stand out as being anachronistic or having a different way of expressing themselves or being very unlike the others in some fundamental ways, it doesn't challenge and/or characterize through banter in the way the other DA games have done and it doesn’t give us companions that seek meaningful conflict or are difficult to understand. Veilguard is the only DA game where I haven’t felt any kind of strong emotional reaction while interacting with the companions, and while you could argue that this is a good thing because teamwork and professionalism or whatever, I’d say that for a text, this is a factor that makes it flat. No great piece of writing has only likable characters capable of self-reflection because no actual human being is only likable or not likable to everyone and by god are actual humans not always capable of self-reflection. In fact, some humans shy away from it for entire lifetimes.
The story of DAV is consistent in its themes, yes. It’s just that it’s also without nuance and - again - without stakes. The companion quests raise big moral dilemmas but the answers are so bland they might as well just be ignored. The outcome changes nothing, doesn’t affect the characters. There’s no price to be paid for becoming first talon, no punishment for being a lich, it’s just another wardrobe choice. Should I wear blue or black, perhaps become an immortal creature? No matter darling, you are always adorable. I think most of all the state of the game is a testament of a really fucking tragic industry that doesn’t care enough about storytelling and authenticity or its workers. I think it’s clear that the writers were trying very hard but I also think it’s clear that it wasn't the narrative the powers that be decided to focus on.  The DA fandom at large, quite frankly, has always just made me exhausted and miserable. I think a lot of the criticisms of DAV have been unhinged. I think a lot of the defences of the game have been so deranged that it makes me wheeze as I read them out loud to my husband. I’ve seen plenty of people dragging up some 17 year old noob’s post from the depths of reddit just to do some edgy take about how stupid people are for disliking the game and it’s just been so many bad faith takes. Overall, I’m truly sorry to say, I have no desire to play this game anymore nor do I feel very tempted to play the other DA games. I’m happy to see that my mutuals are having fun - I wish I felt anything stronger than oh well about the new characters, but I don’t. Maybe I will not be this actively bored in the future and pick it up again, but for now, no. I'll try to finish my fanfic and then probably be done for good with this fandom.
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vespidclan · 5 months ago
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More ooc/irl stuff questions, wondering but are you still playing the save, just a few moons ahead. Or did you play it in full/until you were satisfied, and therefore know how the story will end? : 0c
And this is probably some sort of spoilers right now, but once the comic end, will you explain how you did the "404 resetting the moons until she gets what she wants" and other coding shenanigans she did? Like, did you immediatly get Icicle succumbing in the medic den, and turned it into 404's reset shenanigans for the story. Or did you actively "roleplay" as her by resetting until you got what 404 would have wanted? Same for stuff like the bloodthirsty/loyal coding thing etc : 0c
1: I know how it will end because I played the entire save already. Though that was technically a lie, because I played 100 moons in, but I want the story to have 109 moons (hehe reference). The rest of the 9 moons I want to be a surprise for me but aside from that I have an idea for the ending
2: The stuff 404 does was just little additions I made to the story and not actual coding work I did myself. While I was playing the save I never once had the idea of making it meta and that was just something I added later on when I wanted the story to be more than casual, since crazy things do happen and it worked out well enough!
The idea of where I got 404 was funny actually. Only after I finished the story was when I wanted an antagonist but there wasn’t any cat in the game that would’ve been a good fit, and I wanted this antagonist to be ‘inhuman’ and ‘driven by hate’ who ‘messed with the files’ since I was inspired by IHNMAIMS. This was super weird of me to do and I don’t recommend doing it but I just… kept clicking at ‘new clan’ to see if there were any randomly generated cats that were interesting enough to choose and boom! Moththorn!
This is the part where it gets kinda spoilery?? Nothing related to WTTG it’s kinda just background lore lol. I miiiight implement this later in the comics so I’ll put it under the cut
Me making Moththorn into the game was kinda like me dooming her from the start? from the first moment she was in Pineclan she was always meant to become self-aware since that’s what I always planned it to be. She’ll know she’s self aware but she’ll never know that she was specifically programmed to be self aware if that makes sense. Her being added into the game later is also why the gorls ages are so weird and not realistic. cuz they weren’t supposed to be her kids in the first place.
…It’s sorta why she had a close attachment to the game once she went into Out Of Bounds. It’s basically the holder of all things, the ‘god’ of the world and she was relieved to find it since that was what she was after; the truth. The game didn’t kick her out of Out Of Bounds either, mostly out of interest, and it gave her the power to control the Out Of Bounds since having a ‘happy and carefree life’ was what she truly wanted.
Of course then the system begins to start breaking down because this cat is controlling a part of itself. It is trying to stop her but still wanting to keep its status as ‘perfect’ so there isn’t much done to stop it… That’s where we left off at WTTG anyways. I think we’ll get 1 or 2 more parts depending on how much I add hehe
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inejinn · 3 months ago
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Mcu! Peter Parker, gender neutral reader, random little drabble about Peter hiding eggs in veryy unlikely place with his webs and crawling abilities. Up to interpretation relationship! ~1k words
Easter eggs and betrayals
Or: all of those spider abilities are making egg hunting honestly unfair.
"Dude", you go, staring at the egg currently spinning at the end of its thread. Very slowly spinning. Below it, Peter contritely smiles at you. The egg keeps spinning.
It's a good thing it's a chocolate egg and not the real deal, or else the chicken would be coming out of its shell dizzy as can be. Drunk on nothing but life and Peter's betrayal.
"Yeahh, I never mentioned I used any spider stuff, I know, but, you know- Now you know!"
It'll be so fun, he had said, we'll hide them then eat them once we'll have found them. While watching a documentary or a serie ? Or. Charlie and the chocolate factory!
Yeahh. Except you had been at it for at least 25minutes, if not more. After the third time you opened the fridge to look inside despite his various reports that, no, he didn't put the chocolate eggs in the fridge, you two had had to resort to the 'hot, cold, freezing" system.
You know, as in, hot when nearing the eggs, cold when walking away from them, and most important, freezing whenever you decide to apparently flee those eggs. Unintentionally. The amount of time he had said "Freezing" had almost drew you to insanity.
"I spent so long looking everywhere and you're telling me the ceiling was an option?"
".. Yep. You just took most of the great hiding places already, like the sock one- I'm still stuck on that one, that was genius, just a little bit disgusting by the way- so, you know, I had to improve"
"So you went with the ceiling? .. okay, actually, sure, fair enough" You stare back some more. "..I'm never gonna be able to get it down there, can you, like, do your crawly thing?"
"I hate when you call it that", you have the pleasure to see him grimace. "Makes me feel like I'm some sort of bug monster, even tho I guess I technically could be considered as one-"
"Bring me my egg alreadyyy", you cut the boy off, nudging him towards the wall. "I have like, what, 7 more to find?"
"6, actually. And I'll let you know, you not contesting my bug monster comment really hurts my feelings. Are you implying I'm a bug monster? Because that'd be horrible and absolutely unfounded."
You don't buy much mind to his monologue, seeing as he's currently off to doing his crawly thing and sticking to the wall in order to get your egg. You're more busy examinating the ceiling and every high place suspiciously, now that you're aware that's an option.
The room smells like the chocolate you had attempted to make into an egg earlier, and the fresh air coming through the open window.
"Wow, my feelings are definitely hurt now. Am I a bug monster? Because if so then you're definitely an actual monster, who even hides an egg in a sock?", the boy says as he drops from the ceiling. You only squint your eyes at said window. "And here you go", he adds, handing out the egg he just retrieved to you.
"Thanks" You still says, despite your patience slowly having run out, because well, you're still having a good time. Though.. "Did you hide eggs outside of my appartement ? Because if so I think I'll be acting up on the 'actual monster' accusation."
"Haha, so! Funny thing is. I may or may not have gotten the idea? And acted up on it? But, I didn't go anywhere too crazy, you still need to be able to see it, it's just.. Outside. Slightly."
"Mother fucker", you drop, temporarily forgetting the whole no mother-possibly hurtful - oops that dude is an orphan- thing. He hid eggs outside! You've been searching them everywhere only to find out those eggs were most likely not even inside!
Quick as can be, his hand comes up, catching the egg you just threw at him. Darn him and his inhuman reflexes: you really would have liked him to get hit over the head with it. It would have absolutely been hilarious.
Though, well.. He's currently looking at his hand and what it contain, bamboozled. He looks back at you. His expression is the funniest thing ever, you think. He's got the face of a confused cherub.
"Dude.", he mirrors your past self. You keep staring at him gravely, eyebrows strictly furrowed. "Easter is all about chocolate and little bunnies and it actually makes you the most violent you've ever been, are you the Grinch of it?"
You lose your composure, scowl wiping away from your face in an instant. "Okay, I take back what I said, you're not the monster, I am.", you make amend between two giggles "Keep the egg as an excuse? "
"Yeah, definitely!", he declares in fake outrance, clutching it to his chest . "Chocolate tantrum tax, this is mine now"
"Tantrum, he says while acting as a drama kid", you joke. "Can we go back to the hunt before MJ gets here? She'll be pissed if we take too long to start watching her documentary"
"Ah, oops, yeah, right. Do you want hints so it'll be quicker? I feel like the hot and cold system isn't working out that well"
"Yeah, nope, if I hear you say 'freezing' or you singing 'let it go' once more I'm going to start tweaking"
"You kept singing along", he notes. You shrug.
" Sometimes insanity means going along with things or going even more insane."
"Wow, that was deep, you should make theory videos on Frozen, I bet you could turn famous"
"Don't tempt me, I'm sure I could build a community and make soo much money", you say as you twirl around towards the window.
"Actually, Ned made a Starwars theory channel once and he got zero dollars in total" , he follows you to where you stopped, speaking over your shoulder.
"Aw, that sucks. But I kinda want to see baby Ned's videos now", you go, half focused on studying the curtains.
He peeks over your shoulder, as well. "I'm pretty sure he didn't delete them, we'll have to ask him, but I'm sure he'll show you if he didn't! They were actually pretty great"
"Definitely will be asking him to see" He's looking in a specific direction, you notice when you look at him. "..Did you seriously stick an egg to the shutter?"
"Whaaa? No, defininitely not, I would have never. That'd be such a bad hiding place."
Yeah, he doesn't know how to lie. You've known him for long enough to be aware of that fact.
So it's only logical that you lean out of the appartment (obviously grabbing onto the windowsill, you're not looking to traumatize Peter further, just looking for the egg).
Andd it's only logical that you find yet another egg, this one stuck to the left shutter with spiderwebs.
"Wow. Grab onto me so I don't die getting the egg that's definitely not hidden there and definitely not a risk?"
" For my defense, I webbed it tight enough so it wouldn't fall on the head of a random citizen and knock them out?" He does grab onto your shirt as he speaks, because apparently he doesn't want you to fall to your death and knock out a random citizen with your body. Neat.
"Suree", you dubiously say, with a smile on your face. "I still could have died though"
"Oh, come on! we literally just could have shut the shutters- wich is actually such a dumb word now that I think of it, and gotten it without you leaning out the window"
"Yeah, shutters because it shuts? wow, english is so unoriginal", you blink, absolutely ignoring the fact this hiding spot was actual safe just so you can bring it up again sometime later.
"Right, thanks Shakespeare for spicing it up a little. 'to be in a pickle'? Absolutely awesome thing, it describes my everyday situation so well"
"Huh huh", you absentmindedly hum, back to looking at the celing for more eggs. That is such an odd sentence to think. "Only 5 left?"
"Yeah! and only 15minutes before MJ and Ned arrive"
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a/n: okay, this was very rushed and not all that great but it was Easter and I thought this was such a cute fic idea, I couldn't not write it. Hope you enjoyed! Comments very much appreciated and encouraged, be it tips, requests or your thoughts :D
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hypixelskywars · 9 months ago
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It is a bit weird being a villain, the main villain, someone regarded as something unholy and inhuman, the king of curses, who bears nothing but teeth and evil intentions, and sincerely caring about all of these kids now. Like, hell. I made everything hell and your life miserable. I relished in it. It was funny. But you were all 15. In your first year of highschool. There's nothing that would have changed what i did at the time but now, you guys are just babies what the hell? Yuji is my annoying as fuck nephew who is occasionally (always) really funny. Kugasaki and Fushiguro are cool too. They're my little brother's school friends who think im intimidating. They're all my little cousins. I would have HATED this. Its really funny, in all honesty.
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shivo-research-assistant · 7 months ago
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What's so scary about a Clown?
The clown is a symbol of laughter and joy so why do we, especially children, find them so scary? Well I think it boils down to this: we're not supposed to be happy all the time.
The Greek philosopher Chrysippus, laughed at his own joke, died shortly after because he laughed for too long. Laughter (and the joy that goes along with it) are good in small doses. A good belly laugh is good for the soul. However laughter can hurt and even kill a person if it goes on too long.
Now look towards the clown. This is a symbol that is constantly laughing, smiling, and being the fool. Their faces and garb I believe are so disturbing because they show this forced happiness that ought never be. This feeling is only increased when we see a "defiled" clown or one that is obviously haggard, dirty, and past their prime. Even in their squalor the clown laughs. It does not laugh out of joy. It laughs out of something else at the moment. The laughter itself is done in spite of pain.
I believe people instinctively pick up on this fact when they see a clown. They see a being forced or unwilling to stop laughing which stops making the joke funny. In fact, then there is no joke. What is left is tortured animal seeking relief or, worse, others to join in their misery.
The scariest clowns (Art, the Joker, etc) laugh at things most would consider down right awful. They elevate the dissonance between the clown and "how" we should be laughing. Because that's the thing with clowns. So many times the laughter is analyzed from a "should" or "ought" lens when that makes no sense. People have different senses of humor and thus laugh at different things. The unsettling nature of the clown really doesn't come from the should nor the ought only the HOW.
That's what I think you need to keep in mind to MAKE CLOWNS SCARY; how are they laughing? Is the laughter constant? Is it an unstoppable, painful, raw response to stimuli that is birthed from the nightmarish concoction of mental defects within the mind of the clown? Does the laugh have a tenor that is different than the average laugh? These are things to keep in mind.
Sure the clown might do something horrific and that could be scary. But to make the CLOWN scary? Oh, simply have the clown laugh at the wrong time when they're cutting up the body. A laugh so out of nowhere, devoid of context or cause, that it is unsettling. Was the clown's throat just slit? Best time to have a laugh. Yes it will kill the clown but the sickening wheeze as the blood spurts from the jugular is perfect.
Did the clown just burn down a house? Well perhaps they are laughing all the way up to setting the house on fire and then fall silent. Only when they start coughing from the smoke does the laughter pick up again.
The topic doesn't matter, the presentation of the laugh does. The laugh must reflect something inhuman about this clown. It must show a disconnect from the normal and drive the viewer into a darker world. A world where laughter isn't connected to joy. A world where the macabre peers through and the clowns cannot help but laugh else there would be nothing to laugh at. The clown shows us joy that has soured, turned to ruin, then has rebuilt itself to inflict pain on the world in its scariest form.
When a child cries at a clown because it is "scary," this is what I think at some base level is driving it. Joy should be a precious, momentary, experience. The clown, by trying to prolong this "joy" twists it into pain. We have a fear of becoming Chrysippus. A fear of dying to laughter because we have over indulged and have turned happiness into pain.
For what more horrible thing is there then learning that you have transformed your own world into hell?
The clown is this manifest. Joy to pain. Happiness to hate. The clown is the Shinto spirit gate of horror in many ways. It ushers us from the mundane to the horrific as it turns the usual into the unusual and dark.
Essentially, to make a clown scary, the clown must exist as happiness soured.
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and-then-there-were-n0ne · 1 year ago
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Most of the time when we talk about social media being bad for us we mean for our mental health. These platforms make us anxious, depressed, and insecure, and for many reasons: the constant social comparison; the superficiality and inauthenticity of it all; being ranked and rated by strangers. All this seems to make us miserable.
But I don’t just think it makes us miserable. I’ve written before about how it makes us bitchy. And self-absorbed. And over time I’m becoming convinced that our most pressing concern isn’t that social media makes us feel worse about ourselves. It’s that social media makes us worse people.
Social comparison, for example. This is one of the main problems people mention when talking about the harms of social media. Constantly comparing our beauty, our success, our lifestyle, our popularity, to infinite streams of other people makes us feel anxious and inadequate, yes. But I also think it makes us resentful. Bitter. Competitive. Quietly wishing for others to fail. We talk constantly about what like, follow and comment metrics do to our self-esteem—but don’t they also make us so shallow? We hate when people judge us by numbers on a screen, but aren’t we doing it all the time, to everyone else, even subconsciously? We talk endlessly about how editing apps and filters give girls and young women anxiety and body dysmorphia, which is important, but never about how they make us competitive, envious, vain. Sometimes it’s not my self-esteem I’m worried about. It’s who I become when I obsess over my profile and image and what everyone else is doing. Sometimes I lock my screen and don’t like who is looking back at me in its black reflection.
I think the same is true of dating apps. There’s so much discourse about how these platforms make us sad and anxious. We talk about how bad being ghosted is for our mental health, and how being swiped past destroys our self-esteem. But don’t they also just make us horrible? Funny how we never talk about who we become when we use these apps; how we behave. Honestly I feel more pity for those relentlessly swiping through and ghosting people than the ones who keep getting rejected. Isn’t that the real tragedy? It’s terrible to be treated like some disposable product but worse, I think, to watch yourself shopping for another person, to know you’re judging them on the most superficial standards that you would hate someone to judge you on, to act in this psychopathic way where you’re paying premium to access “Your Top Picks” of human beings. People always say dating apps make them feel weird and I think this is why. It’s not always mental health. Sometimes it’s a deeper sense that this is wrong; that this is inhuman.
We also complain, constantly, about how inauthentic everyone is, how people are always performing and how this fakeness makes us feel insecure and inferior. But what about being fake ourselves? It’s so easy to be dishonest now. We can so easily disguise our vanity as virtue. Here’s a post about Palestine where I’m posing! I’m standing up for conservative values—with a hot selfie of me at a protest! People on all sides pretend their platforms are about political causes and activism when really they just provide perfect opportunities to constantly talk about themselves. And to be rewarded for doing nothing! Now you can be showered with praise for that heartfelt tweet you typed about your mum on Mother’s Day when you didn’t bother to call her or write her a card. You can be applauded by strangers for that Instagram post about how much you love the daughter you don’t spend any time with and never really listen to. And even if we mean it, I think sharing these things shreds them of sincerity. Now we feel a flicker of integrity and immediately publicise and monetise it until it’s dead. We enjoy validation from the fakest displays of virtue and then at the same time revel in the downfall of others; reserve so little faith and forgiveness for anyone else.
And actually, paradoxically, I think all this is a major part of the mental health crisis. This feeling that we are all becoming worse. Our loss of empathy, our lack of regard for others, our neurotic obsession with our own image—it’s taking a toll. Maybe subconsciously. But I think deep down we know it. We know when people are using their dying relatives for Twitter likes, filming their private moments of “quiet reflection”, all the way to posing on the train tracks at Auschwitz for their Tinder profiles, that the conversation can no longer just be about how bad social media is for our mental health. It has to be how bad it is for our humanity.
Of course it isn’t just social media to blame. The trade-off in modern life seems to be comfort and freedom in return for being so horrifically trapped in our own heads. So much of modern culture now seems to exist to excuse our self-obsession. [...] And I think more generally our problem is a progressive culture where we are afraid to say what is decent moral conduct, where we can’t really call out what is undignified or distasteful anymore, where we’re terrified to enforce any ethical expectations.
But then: social media. Modernity mined culture of its customs, denied the importance of families, made a mockery of generational wisdom—and then left the door wide open for companies to crawl in and decide what we value. What did we expect when we took down the traditions? When we uprooted our communities? And allowed a generation to be raised by algorithms and the role models it generates for them? And these platforms are always just there, too, reminding us constantly, daily, hourly, that it’s okay to have so little regard for other people. Of course we can all be cruel and selfish and insincere sometimes—but never before in history have we had a portable machine here to promote it. To indulge it. To reward our self-obsession and rename it personal branding, to protect our vanity as #selfexpression, to defend our basest desires “because you owe it to yourself”!
Of course some people will insist that you can use social media selectively, for good things. You just have to be smart with it. Sure! Maybe you’ve trained your algorithm to deliver you diet videos and exercise tips and positive affirmations. Hate to say it but it’s still all about you. It’s all about your self-improvement. Still a constant, even subconscious reminder to think about yourself. Even healthier algorithms and platforms all have the same problem: you are the centre. What are you thinking about? What’s on your mind? We are a generation forever being told to take ourselves more seriously [...] and we wonder why Gen Z grow up to be self-absorbed and entitled and constantly think their existence is invalidated by the real world.
And yes, of course, you can argue we are accountable. We can avoid these platforms and try to treat people well. No they’re not an excuse to be a bad person. But I worry. I worry that there’s never been such constant cultural messaging. There’s never been so much nudging. There’s never been more incentives. And I worry most for the children—the 7 year-old girls now behaving like Instagram influencers, adopting their mannerisms, who think growing up is getting to buy more products and have a career where a camera is constantly on them. I worry that kind, humble, modest children are being raised by influencers whose income relies on the most shallow human impulses, who have zero incentive to teach them any morals or decency. And companies are getting closer and closer access to them, all the time ramping up the incentives to behave badly.
And actually, I’m losing hope for people taking accountability because all this has accelerated so much and so fast that we can’t seem to see what it’s doing to us, let alone make better choices. Having a camera roll full of thousands of selfies is now completely normal. So is checking how many likes your tweet has while someone is talking to you. So is swiping through human beings like you’re on Amazon. Most of us do things like this sometimes and we feel that it’s weird, we know it’s a bit bleak, but more and more people don’t seem to even see a problem. They spend five hours a week taking selfies and don’t see it as vanity. They talk about people’s follower counts like it’s a measure of worth without a thought of what’s becoming of them. They are so obsessed with their digital reputation they can’t see how they are degrading their real life one for it. They can point to all the ways social media is killing their mental health but never their humility. And so many of us delude ourselves that these platforms are harmless and light-hearted, all while we can feel them destroying us on the inside. All while we are becoming steadily more self-absorbed, in ways that play out in our real relationships and I think eat away at us and our respect for ourselves. Maybe that funny feeling we get from social media isn’t always anxiety. Maybe sometimes that feeling is shame.
Oh well! We’re having fun, right? We’re entertained! We’re all more connected, apparently. But who said I want to be connected to people like this? I don’t even feel connected to myself when I behave this way. I’m starting to think that [...] all this places insane psychological demands on people until they degenerate into someone they are not. Or at least someone less than they could have been.
I honestly don’t know where we go from here. Distancing ourselves from these platforms, yes. Staying away from things that, no matter how normal they seem now, we feel are changing us for the worse. But I also think a good place to start is to change the way we talk about social media. Not just about our vulnerabilities but our vices. Not just about our anxiety but our arrogance. And to look at ourselves, honestly, all of us, and think, for once, not only about how all this is making us feel. But who the hell is it making us become?
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marthfador · 4 days ago
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Does anybody ever have a moment now and then when all the horrors and evilness of the world just suddenly comes down on you all at once and you just feel an immeasurable amount of despair?
My entire body is literally just cold and numb right now and I want to lay down and cry from the helplessness of it all. It's never changing, it's never ending, it's never going to be different.
First this fucking bill going through. Chances are my grandmother won't be able to stay in the home and will have to live with us again and that's literally been the one singular thing that's made my like 10000% better in the past few years. I can't stay with her again, I can't live with her again, I cannot do this.
This bill will probably also affect my job since I deal with things regarding insurance that's mostly centered around Medicaid/Medicare. I've finally gotten a job offer after my money has been completely drained, but I'm so afraid of what's going to happen next.
The mere fact that this horrible man is in office is something else that weighs me down whenever I think about it. The amount of hate and selfishness that this being embodies, yet there's the people that support him and voted for him to be in office too. There really are that many evil people in the country that think this is okay.
Then of course there's the entire government in itself. At this point, whether it's national or regional, it just seems like the governing body is not looking out for anyone but themselves and the people who pay them off. Nationally, it's been voted to end the free lunches for children in school and the free lunches during the summer. Our government here in Texas made sure to cement that with a motion of its own to make doubly sure that none of the children here will be able to eat. How fucking evil do you have to be to make certain that children won't be able to eat? Pro-life until it's out of the womb, huh?
And literally just anything and everything the government does. It's not for the people, not anybody they need to be protecting. If you're not a rich white man, you're fucked. The few decent people left there are begging, pleading for even a hint of something that could be good and yet the others smile as they say no. They actually take pleasure and glee in making sure that people suffer because of them.
I was terrified when the attack on Iran was launched. If there were to be a WW3, I live close enough to a big army base that I'm 100% certain it would be targeted and I'd be blown away with it. The depressing thing is that I'm also pretty certain there won't be any counter-attack because it wouldn't be financially wise for anyone. It's the money that's stopping it. Not to even think about the fact it was just some unannounced, unwarranted attack on the people in Iran.
I'm going to admit I'm not well-versed or educated in what's going on with Israel and Palestine and everything else, but the violence and pure evil that I keep seeing happen... You don't have to understand the history behind everything to know what's happening is inhumane.
What's hilarious right now is what sent me down this doom spiral. Diddy's trial. Diddy's verdict was put up. The most horrendous stories have come from this. The things he did were evil, vile, disgusting. And yet just... nothing. A slap on the wrist for the weakest of charges, everything else is 'innocent'. Justice doesn't exist. Fairness doesn't exist. Honestly, this is a good metaphor for the state of things now. He's got enough money to do what he wants to whoever he wants and fuck you if you try to stand up against him. I won't be surprised if some of these women that spoke up against him are found dead or missing when all this is wrapped up.
And even on just a smaller scale of things. "Prank" youtubers doing evil shit to people for views. It's just a prank bro lolol isn't it hilarious? Isn't it funny? Haha? Then just the trolls in general. I know they're trolls and they just thrive off of negativity but isn't that awful in itself? Children are telling each other to kill themselves. People harass a target online until they actually do. People go out of their way to be as mean and nasty as possible and then just laugh when they finally break down over it. Why do people think this is okay? Why is it that when you find out that you can pretty much say whatever you want online and your first thought is to be as hateful as you possibly can?
I'm just so tired of it all. My mind doesn't want to comprehend how bad people can be. It feels like when one of these eldritch horror type movies or whatever- when a character looks upon it and their brain instantly melts out of their skull because they cannot comprehend what they're looking at. Except it's just the concept of human hatred.
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tentacledtherapist · 1 year ago
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Lisa,
It's funny, despite living in New England all my life I don't think I could ever tire of it. The town I grew up in has a church from the 1780s. One of the many places George Washington stayed is nearby. I grew up in graveyards and old buildings and sinking my arms as deep as they could in the Weird and the Old and the Dark. It makes me unbelievably happy. (It helps that I run warm too, it makes a world of difference to be in a cooler area!) It is funny that we have Wild West Towns and you have Winter Villages when the weather is so opposite. It has a weird cognitive dissonance I think, that makes it humorous. A very dry fake snow covered place at 90 degrees while we have a Fake Desert covered in Real Snow. Why are humans like this I wonder, besides the novelty of what we Don't Have? Like a Medieval Times despite not ever having a european medieval period in America.
I recently watched Bones and All, and while I'm not sure about how well it measured up to the book, I absolutely ADORED it. The metaphor is not lost on me and there is something so jarring and so good about it. I actually do recommend the film, I think I know which actor you speak of and despite not liking them much either their work was really good in this film in particular. I loved making it a bit more of a 1980s period piece to give everything this distance from our current world, and also the narrative the movie is trying to pull opposed to the book. It makes the story make a bit more sense as a movie, in its own way? I'm not someone turned away by cannibalism, so it's not such a weird conept to me. I don't think I'd play a reluctant cannibal character if I was.
I'm so glad we are on the same page about these sorts of stories! Its like getting back to the roots of many of these horror genres, how they turn back into these stories with metaphors about humanity. Dracula and Frankenstein, Carmilla, they're more about people than they are about monsters to me. I'm fairly certain there's roots in Oscar Wilde's famous trials in Dracula, about the fear of male intimacy, since Bram Stoker has been more recently well known for being potentially queer, and Dracula was also inspired partially by Carmilla, itself a horrific lesbian romance. And even beyond that, the strange, the foreign, the twisted humanity, what we see in ourselves reflected from others. Then Frankenstein has its own whole host of human fears laced in it. Parenthood, homosexuality, theology, science. Human connection, our greatest fear and our greatest salvation.
I could write essays about horror, I really could.
- Your Creature
P.s.: I wish you luck with your project! Maybe order from them online? I hate when things are out of stock.
creature,
ordering things online is my Least Favorite way to order things but. i had to and now i must Await My Packidge. agony
i think we’re both talking about timothee chanalet i have no idea how to spell his name— at least i was— there’s nothing wrong with him! i just don’t… care for anything he’s really been in? it’s just never really clicked for me, i guess. but!!! if you endorse the movie, i’ll give it a shot! you haven’t led me astray with media suggestions yet! :D
as for the oddly out of place landmarks: isn’t it human nature to want what we can’t have? there’s a reason we have the turn of phrase “the grass isn’t always greener on the other side”
i would love to read your essays, if you ever decide to write any. you have such… amazing thoughts about this stuff? about horror and the nature of humanity and about love and the inhuman and just… all of it. i’ve genuinely loved reading your thoughts in our letters. i’m so sure i’ve said it before, but just in case: it’s so nice to hear your thoughts on stuff. i missed hearing from you, adam. both while i was away and also. like. lifetime kinning stuff. i keep going back to read things you’ve written me because they’re just so good. you have such a way with describing the things you’re interested in an the things you’re passionate about? i’m going a little overboard, i think, but,,,
suffice it to say: if you ever decide to write an essay and you need a proofreader? i’m your gal
the horrors of each era reflect our society’s fears during that era, but there’s something to be said about the inherent, timeless, and unshakeable fears about humanity and the Other (tm tm tm). those fears, those insecurities about the self? they never go away. i think that’s why we as a society love stories about them so much
- Your Lisa
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jraker4 · 1 year ago
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I don't think the Palestinians should just die. You cannot point to my ever having said so, whereas you said Israel should just die explicitly, in addition to many times admitting-bragging, in fact-that you hate Jews categorically.
Of course if my entire family and friends were killed, I wouldn't think it was justified. That's how people work. Would the world regard it as justified? Perhaps. That happens in war. It's awful, but it's not any sort of uniquely Israeli evil. Anyway, this isn't a genuine conversation to you: you literally regard Jews as inhuman and evil. And what's funny isn't that you think Palestinian suffering is unnecessary, what's funny is your expectation that anyone will believe you care about that. You don't. You're literally on the record hating Jews and wishing they were dead. Why are you pretending to care at all about Palestinians? Seriously, in like four screen names of yours I'm not sure I've ever seen you say anything about Palestinians that wasn't about attacking Jews. Is it, like, part of your mastermind hatemongering plan, or what? As for your lying about your sources, I was referring to your lying about what they said. For instance, the killing of protesters over nearly a year's time. You said nothing about Hamas staging attacks using those protesters as cover...but then, to you, Israel ought to just let them do that and be killed. *shrug* As for the blockade, well, actually it was in response to Hamas's takeover of the government of Gaza. Considering Hamas has been very open about its desire for the destruction of Israel...yeah, it's completely shocking that Israel would make moves to inhibit that. This was back in 2007, before they'd even changed their charter. It's got a few things you'd approve of, such as enmity to the Jews and a determination to wipe out Israel. Can't imagine why Israel would institute a blockade-supported by Egypt-over such a thing. So once again, your characterization of events is full of shit. Nations don't tend to let groups openly committed to their violent destruction operate right next to them if they can possibly stop it. But you think Israel should just let itself be killed. Hamas broke a ceasefire by launching a pogrom. Whatever status the war in Gaza is at now, it started for Israel as a war of self-defense. I mean, not to you, because you think killing Jews is an unvarnished good, I understand. But over here in the real world, we don't actually expect people to let themselves be murdered. The blockade? Begun in response to a takeover by a group that openly works for Israel's destruction. Death of protesters? Occurred due to Hamas staging attacks from among those protesters. It isn't as simple as saying 'Israel started it', but that's not a genuine argument from you anyway. You don't care who started it. You just like it when Jews are hurt and killed.
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abandonedsdjfhcvndfbv · 2 years ago
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I also sa w Minecraft server with mane6 in my dream it got me rhinking. How they game it
Twiligjt would like speedrun everything learn about the game get to the end beat the dragon and like be sooo annoying to be with until then cus everything she does is calculated for supplies but then when shes explored all the game has to offer shes finally chill and can actually hang out in a chill manner. I think shes not very good at combat but makes do and she is pretty good at building and would kinf of enjoy mining/strip mining i think shed do that the most. Shes also incredibly anti cheating she gets SOOO mad at cheating probably owns the server and has cheats turned OFF...i like to imagine some pranks convincing her to turn on cheats for just a bit only for something devious to happen.. also HUGE redstone head lmfao sorry i always forget redstone is a thing shed make so many frankensteins monsters nd devices w that
Fluttershy would tame every single animal she sees(like me) shed have a funeral for every animal that accidentally dies and name for every animal amd shed build the hugest farms (good builder she probably rlly likes making them fancy in a warm homey way) but theyre all classical style like nothing inhumane like some minecrafters do sometimes. except the well exp farms i think shed also enjoy that. She gets scared in combat so shes not that good but she can do it if she tries and shes mainly a buiilder nd chills with her many animals or goes exploring in overworld to find more of them. she gets scared by the cave noises so shes rarely in caves except if they explore with the group. Sometimes cheats because shes scared to aquire some material that takes a lot of travel/monsterslaying but feels really bad about it after n confesses like its a huge deal
Rainbow dash , of course, never rlly stays still and parkours on literally everything and shes like the combathead but like, specifically the classic minecraft combat she would HATE the update SO MUCH because she cant spamclick anymore. Most annoyed by cobwebs, which many ponies who have been pranked by her take advantage of,sorry i reallt like the image of her stuck in cobwebs and forgetting you can break them w a sword LOL.. So fucking horrible at buildiny classic dirthouser but like shes never rlly at her own base she mostly hangd at her friends bases or shared base which they most likely have. No patience for stripmining only mines in caves and with friends or she gets bored. Loves to go on creative mode to fly really fast nd cheats if she gets bored as well.
Pinkie Okay its really fucking funny to imagine her holding space down constsntly so shes alwyas jumping like how she moves around usually nd draining her hunger bar with it but i think shed like constantly do strange actions like thst having fun in the primalest of ways. Also likes parkouring on everything. she likes crafting thigns and shes very creative with building and often has a different perspective like shes the type to wear dyed leather to the boss fight cus it looks cuter. also kind of a beast at combat becaude she just attacks liek a panther rlly fast... She doesnt cheat unless its to like do a 1000 dropped steaks to crash the server prank but everypony secretly thinks she cheats because of how many items she has but well shes just like that. Also lieks setting traps with rd minecraft is very potent for prankability and shed love it
Rarity is obviously like incredible at building but it also takes gruelling work to get the materials i imagine she takes favors among her friends and maybe spike if hes allowed on the server LOL to go get her materials for her huge marble cathedral and shit. Loves creative but in survival considers it taboo to cut corners for materials. Surprisingly decent at combat and likes the mines when theyre pretty probably loves the new mine and nether updates nd gets into arguments with rd about it. but prefers to be building most the time instead of anything else, probably builds or improves upon her friends bases or builds new surprise buildings for them and such like recreations of their real houses nd stuff like that. Gets redstone help for some of her buildings as well, shed probably get the hang of it if she learned but shed preoccupied
Applejack woud be like kind of slow with the controls and hoenstly the least eager to play but if she got the hang of it she might also like building stuff but in a more practical manner shed always make like realistic structures and village remodelling too but theyd look pretty good shes the classic wood and stone builder forever. i think shed like redstone too twi would get her into it and shed like it in a beginner kinda way. Bad at combat usually but she tries and gets it done👍 Also likes doing favors for her friends most of all and stocking up on materials and being sent on errands like that. Also lieks farms too even though its basically fluttershys thing but like she has some too yesyes. And CROP FARMS Shes the numero uno crops Everypony gets them from her. Justlike the aples
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albino-whumpee · 3 years ago
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Tool
Funny how a simple phrase can make me create. 
CW// blood, inhuman whumpee, dubious caretaker, human trafficking...well, they look human, it as a pronoun. 
“I´m giving that tool to you, son. You better bring out all of its potential” 
Those were the words his father told him as he pushed the tool forward, making it stumble. They didn´t look malnourished or overly mistreated as other tools would. Maybe a bit pale and skinny, but the lifeless eyes were almost a tool´s identifying feature anyways. It wasn´t worth the attention. The tattoes on their wrists in the other hand.
The shackles on the tool´s wrists were a contract. They were incomplete, which meant the contract was waiting for a seal to bind them to its master for life. He frowned at the sight of a broken shackle tattoo right below. 
“It already has a master” they remarked bitterly. 
“It used to” his father would never give him one of his own tools. Breaking the contract with a tool was a death sentence. Stealing someone else´s was a different story. “Don´t worry, I can assure you they´re sharp enough for you to handle”
There was an obvious mockery on that sentence, but he was used to it. Still, it stung slightly as they looked back at the tool standing in front of him. A second hand like the ones his father trafficked...
He sighed. “Fine. I´ll take it” 
A pleased expression surged on his father´s face. The tool took a step forward. 
...Funny, the tool didn´t look all that upset about changing masters, it even offered its wrists without being asked. 
Naturally, he started the ritual for the contract. Despite his father having a vast network of tools, he had remained without one for the entirety of his life. He was doing fine by himself. But refusing his father yet again was as stupid as breaking a contract with a tool. 
“Just a thing” his father went as he watched him cut his wrist and let the blood drip over the tool´s shackle tattoo. By the tool´s expression, it burnt. It was to be expected their sync wouldn´t be good when he hadn´t picked the tool. Still, the sting on his own arm as the tattoo of a key appeared on his wrist was bearable. He could make it work. 
“What?” he said letting the tool pull their aching wrists to their chest. 
“They killed their previous master, so you better become a proper master if you want to live” 
He let out an amused hum as he turned to the tool. The tool recoiled at the extended gaze, a shiver running down its spine when it saw its new master smile at it. 
“[Come]” He called for his tool. In a blur of light, its human body dissapeared and shot towards its master´s hand. Sparks burnt in the air as the tool transformed into a fine spear. 
Without being told to, he flicked his wrist and the spear transformed into dual blades he caught in the air with his other hand. 
One of them was shattered in the middle and the other one barely had any sharpness to it. He hated to admit he had been hopeful for a second. 
It was a tool that had just recently discovered they were a versatile tool, huh? One form was elegant and formidable, while the other was broken. It was obvious which was the usual form the tool took under its last master´s care.
He tried flicking his wrist again, testing if it could take another form, but when he only felt a throb on his wrist, he noticed he had been greedy. Two forms were enough. Regardles...Versatile tools like that were rare and powerful, but infinitely more unstable than other tools. Until they got used to the switch, it would strain their body beyond use. 
“[Back]” he ordered, letting go of the weapon.The tool went back to its human form and plummeted on the ground gasping for air. 
“What do you think?”
“It´s broken” The tool´s head sank in shame. 
“Nothing is perfect. Can I trust you can polish it?” 
He glared at his father for a moment. Of course, a versatile tool was too good of a gift to be true. 
“Do you want me to break the contract once I´m done?” 
“You can sell it to me when you´re done. I will pay a good price for it”
“You will find someone to pay a good price for it, you mean” he scuffed. “Why me? You could´ve made the contract with it yourself”
His father put a distasteful expression while looking at the tool. The tool crawled to its new master in a cute attempt to hide from the scrutinizing glare. 
“I tried to. Many times. It just kept refusing to have me as its master. It must have still kept some loyalty to its former master...” 
The man´s son burst into laughter. Even the tool looked at him with strange eyes. 
It couldn´t hide the surprise on its face when he patted its head “You´re a little more clever than I thought” he whispered to it. Then looked up to his father “I don´t think a tool that killed its master would be loyal to anyone. Therefore...”
He grabbed the tool´s arms and pulled it up. His grip was tight and soon the tool whimpered and tried to push his arm away. 
“A rebellious tool will sign any contract if it means it can be free by killing all its masters” the tool stopped struggling, its golden eyes shining wildly as its intentions were uncovered. It began to struggle more, but the man was stronger than it and quickly subdued it. 
That didn´t stop the tool from struggling underneath. It tried to change its skin for the spear´s blade, but when it hoped skin would tear and bleed, it was shocked to find only the cloth of his gloves teared. 
“Too bad” he laughed at it. His prosthetic hand pushed the tool down to its knees and kept it there. 
Tool and master locked eyes, then. Nothing but hate in one and pure amusement on the other. 
“No worries. I will make it know what a proper master is”
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jenomark · 4 years ago
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➔Pairing: Hendery x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Kun + Lucas ➔Genre: Smut (with a plot!) ➔Warnings: Mentions of blood + Vaginal penetration (briefly), Oral (both M + F) ➔Word count: 2,769
➔Summary: Kun has a plan to get you and Hendery to work out your differences, but Kun's plan doesn't quite work out the way he thinks it will. 😉
Anon Request: enemies to lovers hendery smut?? thank you !! any scenario 🤎
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You and Hendery watched as Kun brought out two chairs into the middle of the floor to face each other. Hendery's scowl matched yours, which made you even more irritated that any part of you could relate to him.
"I don't see how this will help. It-" Hendery began, but he was cut off by Kun's terse, "-Shh!"
The scraping of the chairs stopped. Kun leaned on the back of one of them and looked at you before looking at Hendery. He said, "I'm tired of this. We are all tired of this. Both of you have more in common than you think."
"We don't." you said, a little too childishly.
Kun narrowed his eyes, which made you fall quiet. "Sit down and work it out," he said, before walking out and slamming the door shut behind him.
"I'm not sitting down." Hendery said. “He can’t make me sit down.”
You were already sitting in the chair, but since Hendery spoke, you wanted to get up and resist along with him. Hendery paced around the room, looking more annoyed than ever. So, you stayed seated because you didn't want to be like him.
"I don't know what he wants us to do." Hendery said. "I have no problem with you. I just don't want to be around you."
"Likewise." you said.
"I didn't ask what you though, did I?"
You rolled your eyes. "Here we go."
"No," Hendery said. He leaned on the back of the free chair like Kun had. "You've had a problem with me since I first met you. I want to know why. It's because I'm so handsome, right?"
"Oh, please."
There was a banging on the front door. Kun's voice rang out. He was letting out a whole series of curse words followed by a bunch of angry grunts. Hendery cursed back and sat down in the chair with a huff.
"We will never see eye-to-eye," he said. "And that is okay. If it's okay for us, it should be okay for them."
"I agree." you said, crossing your legs.
Things were silent. Hendery looked at your legs where your skirt was riding up your thigh. You uncrossed your legs and pulled your skirt down. The way you looked at him in disgust made him smirk, which made you want to strangle him. In fact, you were gearing up for another argument when Lucas burst through the door with his finger pointing at both of you.
"You and you." he said. "Just sleep with each other already."
"What?" you and Hendery both said at the same time.
Lucas dropped his finger. "Just fuck. You know, make love, or, in your case, war. The sexual tension is too thick, man, I can't live here with you both like this."
With that speech, Lucas turned on his heel and left. Though, he didn't slam the door like Kun had.
Shock rippled throughout the room. You and Hendery both stared at each other from your chairs, his eyes wide, and your eyes sizing him up. Truthfully, you had wondered what it would be like to take out the aggression you felt for Hendery on his body. You had even dreamed about what it would be like once.
"Can you believe him?" Hendery said, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "Us? Fuck? When hell freezes over, I think."
But Hendery wasn't immune to the way you were looking at him. Underneath your hot gaze, he began to feel a little warm underneath the collar. He couldn't stop staring at your legs, thinking about your thighs crushing his head while you sat on his face.
Without speaking, you withdrew yourself from the chair and got down on the floor. Your knees hurt crawling your way towards him, but nothing hurts quite like your pride. You would have never imagined crawling to Hendery like that but, somehow, it felt right.
"Not a word." you said, your eyes boring into his. "If you act smug, I will bite down on your dick so hard you'll be pissing blood for weeks."
"Ouch." Hendery winced, covering himself.
You stopped before him, your hands reaching out to touch him. Hendery moved fast, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down for you. He was hesitant for you to see his cock but, when he saw that you were trying not to laugh, he bared himself for you to see.
"Don't laugh at me," he said.
"I'm not laughing." you said, smiling.
You took his cock in your hands and watched him grow. He reacted like he hadn't been touched in years, which did make you laugh. Hendery moaned and bit down on his lips to stop the further humiliation. You stroked him and tasted him. You were trying your best not to think about how much you hated him. Having that control over him made you feel powerful, made it easier for you to suck him off.
"This is...an... unexpected.." Hendery breathed, closing his fists tight as you bobbed up and down his cock. "..event...oh god."
"You cannot be serious." you said.
Hendery came so soon, his cum gushing out of his tip. You didn't swallow him, just let him spill himself onto his pants. The noise he made was inhuman, and it ground you right to your spot on the floor. You watched him, holding his cock upward so he came on his shirt, instead, and trying not to admit to yourself that you ached for him to be inside of you.
When he finished and was through cleaning himself up, you both acted like nothing had happened. Hendery looked at you from across the room, the wet rag moving up and down his stomach. You shrugged and moved the chairs back where they were, ignoring how swollen and aroused your clit was.
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Kun thought he had done something. Whenever you and Hendery were around each other, the bickering had lessened. Kun didn’t know that behind his back, Hendery was pushing his tongue into his cheek and staring at you. Mimicking a blowjob was childish, but Hendery didn’t have to know that you went home at night and masturbated to the very thought of him doing that.
Kun also didn’t know that, whenever he and the rest of the guys went out, you would sneak to Hendery’s room and fuck with him. Or rather, you would sit on Hendery’s face like a throne and have him eat you out until he couldn’t breathe.
“When will you let me fuck you?” Hendery asked, looking up at you from between your thighs.
You let your weight fall down onto his face and rubbed yourself against his lips and nose so he would stop talking. It’s not that you didn’t want him to fuck you senseless, just that having him penetrate you felt a little too real. You felt it also brought about the realization that you liked being in his company more than you thought.
After coming all over his face and having him beg you to do it again, you laid in his bed. “This isn’t a compliment,” you said. “but you’re not half bad.”
“I know.”
You narrowed your eyes. “I said it wasn’t a compliment. You don’t have to be so smug about it.”
He held up his hands. “All I’m saying is, you scream more when you’re sitting on my face than you do when you’re not, and for that, I think, is the highest compliment.”
You pulled his covers over yourself until they were covering your naked body. “I really hate you.”
“And yet you’re still in my bed.”
Before you could respond with a not-so-clever retort, Hendery went underneath the covers and started eating you out again.
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It was getting a little too comical, you and Hendery’s situationship. You were both sure that none of the guys knew what was going on, even if Lucas occasionally shot you curious looks whenever you were together. Hiding was difficult and resulted in someone getting half dressed and running from his dorm room, as if everything were perfectly normal. To make sure everything seemed up to standard, you and Hendery would stage fights now and again. In reality, those fights got you both hot and bothered enough to slip into whatever place you could and either get fingerbanged or something else that left your legs weak.
What made it truly funny was that you began to grow feelings faster than Hendery grew his erection. Underneath all of his self-congratulatory ways, Hendery was actually fun to be around. You would often stay in his bed for hours just watching videos on his phone in between pleasing and teasing his body. He lasted much longer in bed as more time passed, and the vulnerability that you seemed so scared of in the beginning also made things more exciting.
Kun slammed down a bottle of soda to break you out of your reverie. The party around you zoomed back to life the moment he spoke. You watched Hendery talk to a girl across the room. Though he stole glances back at you, the jealousy was rearing its ugly head.
“Are you okay?” Kun asked. “You seem...off.”
“I’m good.” you said. “I’m great.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Can’t you see, Kun?” Lucas came up behind Kun and stole the soda from him. He drank a long, sweet gulp. “She is in love with Hendery. I knew that it was only a matter of time.”
“Yeah, right.” you said, trying your best to disguise the lie. “I would rather stay single for the rest of my life than ever touch someone like him.”
When Kun and Lucas didn’t reply, you looked at both of them. Kun looked as if he were going to say something but thought better of it. Lucas smiled. For the first time, you felt like you could pity yourself.
“I’m going outside to get fresh air.” you said, excusing yourself.
You walked through the room and felt Hendery’s eyes on you. You could feel him following behind you. When you made it outside and turned around, he was right there.
“Having fun?” you asked. “I’m sure that girl was having the best time.”
“Are you jealous of her?” he asked. “Please tell me yes. It would inflate my ego so much.”
“No.” you said flatly.
“But you’re not denying it.” he said. “Interesting.”
If you had answered him, you weren’t sure he would like what you had to say. Rather than face all of that, you decided to walk away. But Hendery pulled you back. You expected some joke, some kind of puffed up version of himself, but the man you were met with was the same man you met behind closed doors.
“Don’t leave,” he said. “Talk to me.”
“Talking never works out in our favor.” you said, pulling your wrist away from him.
“It helped once.” he said, smiling at the memory of you crawling towards him. When he saw that you didn’t smile back, his face changed. “I’m not the enemy, you know that.”
You wracked your brain for something incredible to say, but all that came out was a lame little. “Yeah, I guess.”
Hendery took a step towards you and looked at your lips. Throughout all of your bedroom excursions, you had never kissed each other on the mouth. His mouth had been all over your body, but never your lips. He touched his thumb to your bottom lip, but it was you who pushed your way into the kiss.
“Wow.” Hendery said, pulling a part. He kept his eyes closed. “That definitely tastes better than-”
You pushed him back and went to kiss him again. This time, with a little tongue that made him moan in approval. You felt that kiss in your whole body, right down to your toes.
“What if I just went upstairs and told everyone they needed to leave right now.” Hendery said.
“You don’t live alone. “ you reminded him.
He groaned. “I’ll pull the building's fire alarm if I have to. “
“I didn’t even agree that I was going to sleep with you.” you said, resisting the urge to cross your arms over your chest.
“You didn’t have to.” Hendery whispered.
Hendery took your arm and pulled you upstairs. He kicked open the door to the apartment so forcefully that everyone looked in his direction. You covered your face in embarrassment. If you met eyes with Kun or Lucas, you didn’t think you would ever fully recover.
“Alright.” Hendery called out. “Party is over. It’s time to leave. Everyone, please make your way out in an orderly fashion, thank you.”
When no one moved, you hid behind Hendery because you could feel him gearing up to say something incredibly inappropriate. But, instead, it was Lucas who spoke.
“You heard the man.” Lucas said. “Party continues at the bar down the street. Drinks on me. Let’s go!”
The crowd cheered and followed Lucas. Before he left through the front door, Lucas winked at you. Everyone filed out in a conga line, yelling raucously and completely ignoring you and Hendery standing there.
Kun stopped before he walked out. “I’m glad you both are working out your differences.”
“We’re working out something.” Hendery said, grabbing Kun’s shoulder and pushing him through the door. He shut it behind him and faced you, all of the humor gone from his face, replaced with a pallor that made him look ill.
“I hate you.” you said, but there was no hate in your voice whatsoever.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Hendery said.
You kissed him and brought color back to his cheeks. Rather than stripping him of his clothes and immediately going for his cock, you took things slow. It felt nice to be in his arms. Different, but very nice. You held each other and made out, things getting hotter and heavier as time passed.
“I’m done playing.” Hendery said.
He took you into his bedroom where he sat you down on his bed. Before you, he started dancing and taking off his clothes in a way that made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt.
“Done playing, huh?” you asked.
He took his t-shirt and brought it around your neck. You could feel the heat from his stomach being so close to you. You kissed his skin and looked up at him. You didn’t know when exactly it had happened, when Hendery had become a lover rather than an enemy. You certainly didn’t know when he had become your best friend.
“Yeah.” he said, pushing you back down onto the bed. “I think so.”
Just like that, the energy in the room changed. His kisses were deeper and more sensual. He had stopped the strip tease and had straddled you, his hands roaming up and down your body. It was difficult for you to focus on one thing. Your sexual encounters were usually full of him narrating exactly what he was going to do, but the Hendery on top of you kept you on your toes. He pulled down the top of your dress to expose your cleavage and let his tongue roam free. You let his hands move underneath your dress, pulling it up to reveal your underwear.
“Why does this feel so different?” he asked, looking down at you with his dark eyes.
For a moment, you thought he was talking about your body. You were quiet, not knowing how to answer, though you knew what he meant. When he removed your dress and slowly unhooked your bra and brought your panties down past your ankles, he realized with a shock what you had known all along.
“Oh, I like you a lot.” he said. “I’m an idiot.”
“You won’t find me disagreeing.” you said, sucking in when you felt his lips on your stomach.
“I didn’t ask you though, did I?” he asked, transporting you both back to the very first time you were intimate with each other.
“Maybe you should.” you said. “Maybe you should ask me what I want.”
Hendery stripped himself naked like his life depended on it. He was erect, his eyes full of emotion. “What do you want then?”
“I want you.” you said. “As miserable as you are. As wild as you are. As much as you annoy me, Hendery, I want you.”
Hendery pushed your legs until your knees were in the air. You breathed in deeply and looked up at him. He touched your pussy, his eyes still on you as his fingers brushed against you. “You have me.” he said, before plunging deep inside of you.
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faerunscursed · 10 months ago
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Most would tell him not to trust the word of the half-fiend, whose proximity gave him comfort in ways that no one else’s would. In fact everyone who had ever met her, insisted that every word that came out Mizora’s lips were lies. That all she ever did was whisper corrupting thoughts into his mind, so that she might control him like a puppet. But that was never the case, merely the perception of those who knew truly knew nothing. For with Wyll, she never lied, she even let him play hero, which he knew she detested. They had all paid the price for the disrespect, too, as Mizora had personally handled them. Wyll had known as much, when he came back to a camp littered with blood and body party scattered across the ground, many of which were missing their heads.
Yet the only one, to whom he could every truly trust was her. For even when she didn’t have best designs for him, he could always rely on he being there if his life depended on. In fact, any with a pair of eyes and ears could see how possessive she was when it came to him. It was that possessiveness that had killed so many of his traveling parties, including the aforementioned. It was also that same possessiveness that had saved his life, after goblins had forcefully dug his eye out, temporarily severing a connection that he would never be without now. The connection to her was like an addiction, one he never would shake.
Something in which the half-fiend did not know, was that this connection had found its beginnings in their first interaction. That day on the streets of Baldurs Gate. The day a kind, old, beggar had shared a welcoming warmth in ways his father never had, or ever would. Their second interaction, when he had been ridden with depressive thoughts and urges had been chased away from the same woman like they had no place. Of course at that time he had no idea of her true identity, or her true intentions, though he had ignored how off the woman felt, inhuman. Until Mizora had appeared to him in her true form. That connection, that bond was radiating off of her, and he knew in that instant that the beggar and Mizora were one and the same.
In truth that’s why he would have said yes to any deal, especially in a moment in which everything was falling apart around him. The sway she had then was nothing compared to now. Right now her words were like honey, and he was drinking it all in. Under this light, the scarring around his stone eye, the way it scar tissue exposed itself, reflected brightly. Prove of his allegiance to her, as his eyes did not leave hers. His breath calmed significantly and a sense of pride overcame him at her compliments.
"I know, I've known since that day we met on the streets of Baldurs Gate. You wouldn't have sought me out otherwise, have you? That I was more than dirt, that I had potential." Wyll reached out to touch the hand that cupped his jawline, tanned skin brushing against blue. "It's funny, my father was never any better. His whole life he manipulated, pulled strings and influenced in ways that would benefit him. To think he would hate his own son for it."
"When this whole time it was him who made me the man I am, just as much as you. After all, he was the one who took everything from me, and even now is still trying to do that." Wyll looked at her with a new sense of determination. "I won't let him. Not after I've built this life for myself, devil or not. So long as he haunts my thoughts, I will never be free. Is there is something I can do about that?"
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Mizora had noticed the effects Duke Ulder Ravenguard had upon his son, even before she and Wyll had properly met. While for an outsider, the circumstances, under which they had met, had been extraordinary and quite sudden, it had not been nearly as sudden as many people liked to believe. The Cult of Tiamat had not been nearly as sneaky as they liked to believe themselves to be. There had been signs of their ritual to summon Tiamat months before they had ever put their plan into action. Enough signs that Zariel's cultists had been able to pick up on it and report to their mistress.
Hence why Mizora had found herself in Baldur's Gate's streets in search of further evidence of these happenings. It was during these investigations that she and Wyll had crossed paths for the first time: Mizora had sat in the entrance of an abandoned doorway in the disguise of an old beggar woman, cloaked to the point only her startling silver eyes and greying hair had been visible. Wyll, having been nothing but a sweet, innocent, baby-faced, noble boy, had approached her to hand her some coins. They had struck up a conversation right then and there.
During this conversation, Mizora had noticed just how much potential slumbered inside of Wyll. Sure, he had spoken of how his father had wanted him to become the marshall of the Flaming Fist, however, underneath it, Mizora had sensed something darker: A hunger for power and a desire to break out of constraints. Their mundane and simple conversation had been cut short as Ulder Ravenguard had ushered his son away with the words to not speak to beggars as they could be dangerous.
However, Mizora only realised just how low Wyll's self-esteem was when she and him met once again before the fateful night of the contract, which would change everything. Wyll Ravenguard had been in very low spirits, thanks to some argument with his father. He had sulked around near a bridge, all pouty and depressed. Mizora had once again stepped beside him, hands over the rim of the bridge, and pulled the boy into a conversation. It had uplifted his spirits immensely.
His pain penetrated the air like a dagger, going over a gutted carcass. Normally, Mizora would have gorged herself on the sensation, enjoying the agony of the damned like it were the finest wine. However, Wyll was of more use to her if he shunned his father completely and if she made him greater than the grand duke could ever hope himself to be. Thus she held his trembling body against her stomach, allowed his snot and tears to streak across her corpse-blue skin and listened to him shout his anger out in a choked-down sob.
Mizora hushed Wyll softly as she continued to caress his shoulders and the base of his horns. She said nothing, just kept him in her arms and gave him the space to work his way through his emotions. His burning rage made Mizora hark up, particularly when it intensified after she had taken on her real form. Ever since her pet had become a devil, her Cambion shape and the smells of Avernus had a calming effect upon him. His tail looping around hers elicited a soft purr from her throat.
"Wyll", Mizora said and cupped his cheek before she took hold of his jawline and made him look up at her, "You are not dirt. Not to me." She laughed a hoarse, dry laugh akin to the same sound she had made when she had been disguised as the elderly beggar woman. "And that is coming from a devil, who is used to treating almost everybody she sees as lesser or, worse, just bodies to gorge herself on. You are not a vile man, Wyll. You are just filled with guile like any good devil should be."
"And well, it is an unfortunate truth that our parents will always loom over us. They probably do not even have to be figures of importance to make us feel like we have to match an invisible standard or untold expectation. Of course, it is worse when it is a person of importance. And it hurts just as much to be blamed for something, you have no control over. Whether that be because you are seen as a devil or an inadequate fighter."
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may-fanfic · 4 years ago
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I Just Want You 
summary: despite you and wanda just getting out of your own relationships, you find comfort in each other and begin to date. wanda drags you to a party and you’re both confronted with the past. 
rating: idk its kinda angst kinda fluff, lmk tho 
warning: break up if thats one 
word count: 1,410
((feel free to send in any request you may have)) 
masterlist
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the day Natasha broke up with you, it felt like all your good days were gone, she took those with her. you were completely broken up about her decision to leave you. you couldn't even understand what you did that made her leave. it felt like she took a piece of you with her, you hardly felt like yourself anymore.  it took you awhile to get over her and you knew you'd truly never get over her but you could go days without thinking about her and that was enough for now.
slowly but surely, you felt like you could be happy again, and despite not being ready for another relationship, you still got involved with Wanda. you liked her company and you were just glad that someone wanted to stick around for you. you met wanda through Natasha when you were still dating. she had a boyfriend at the time and you never imagined yourself with her but now you were excited about the new relationship you formed. after a drunken kiss, it was apparent to the both of you that you both wanted something more so it didn't take long before you started dating.
you rolled your eyes at the witch, she had been relentless, whining about how you never go to the stark's parties with her, she just wanted to show you off. you took that as wanting to rub it in Nat's face, the thought of making her jealous made you cringe. you sat at the foot of the bed, watching as the woman dressed in the nice tight dress. she spun quickly when she was done with the mirror. her eyes were soft as she stared at you, taking your face in her hands gently. her eyes pleaded with yours and a small pout was formed on her lips. "come on, baby. I don't wanna go alone. Vision's gonna be there." she pleaded causing you to clench your jaw at the guy's stupid name.
"Natasha's gonna be there, Wanda." you frowned causing the girl's pout to grow even more. she leaned down so that she could brush a soft kiss to your lips. "I need you there." you knew she had to go, she was an Avenger, after all, it'd look weird for her not to show up. the thought of her sitting by herself in some corner made your heartache and you knew you could never do that to her so with a simple nod, you agreed to go to the dumb party.
----
the party was packed, it made you hopeful that you wouldn't run into the spy. there were so many people that you could hardly move so what were the odds that you'd see her at all? that's what you told yourself as you tightened your hand around Wanda's trusting the girl to guide you through the party. you and wanda enjoyed yourself for a while, enjoying the drinks and food that had there.
your happiness seemed to die down when you got a glance of the redhead from over Wanda's shoulder. she quickly noticed the change in your behavior, her hand found yours, giving it a tight reassuring squeeze. you snapped your gaze away when her eyes found yours instead you looked at Wanda. she wore a sweet smile, her free hand came up to softly cup your cheek.
"I love you," the woman uttered out for the first time, you weren't sure if you heard her right over the music but the way she was looking at you confirmed what you thought. Wanda trusted you completely but Vision caused some underline trust issues, now she found herself confessing her love to you so you wouldn't leave her. the expression on your face changed quickly, feeling the worries wash away with excitement. a smile tugged at your lips and wanda let out a breath that she was holding.
"wanda, baby, I love you too," you confessed causing her smile to grow, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your lips but before she could even, a throat clear made the both of you tugged away from each other. her hand was still tight on yours, snapping your gaze away from wanda to look at the person but it wasn't who you thought it was instead you stared at the inhuman man who gazed lovingly at wanda. you felt your heart cracked a little, feeling a wave of fear wash over you noticing the way he was looking at her. "wanda dear." he breathed out causing Wanda's hand to grip at yours almost painfully. you shot daggers at him, wanting to shoo him away but more importantly, you wanted her to do that. you needed her to prove to you that she loved you like she said she did.
a soft huff slipped past Wanda's lips, her eyes burning into the man's. "don't call me that." she spoke through gritted teeth, trying her hardest to hide any form of emotion. you knew it was hard for her to face the man, the same way it was hard for you to even see the spy. you couldn't help but wonder where she was because when you looked back over, there wasn't even a trace of her. you tuned back into the conversation when the man spoke up. "I miss you wanda."
"I don't miss you."  she snapped back, blinking away the tears that made her eyes water.  "it was a mistake, wanda. why can't you just forgive me?" he argued, the way wanda was looking at him scared you and you wondered if he had been shaking under her gaze, wishing that he never tried to come over and greet her casually. before wanda could even speak up, you took it upon yourself to speak up. "come on, vision. just leave her alone." you breathed out, frowning up at the man who seemed to bother your girlfriend.
"or what, y/n?" he stared down at you, hatred filling his gaze. he was intimidating if you were honest but you knew wanda had you and there was nothing she wouldn't do to protect you. "or we're gonna have a problem." a raspy voice sounded behind vision and in an instant, you knew who it was. this was unbelievable, it was laughable. you honestly couldn't believe this was happening to you. Vision turned to look down at the spy who glared at him, feeling himself grow overwhelmed quickly. he huffed before moving away causing you to let the tension in your shoulders drop.
this was exactly why you didn't want to come to this party, you knew both you and wanda hadn't completely healed and there were too many raw emotions that would come from seeing your exes. when vision left, Natasha didn't bother to stick around and you were glad that she didn't cause a scene like vision just did, after all, she was the one who left you.
you couldn't help but wonder whether or not wanda was contemplating making up with vision. it left you feeling uneasy as you let your hand drop from Wanda's. "what are you doing?" she questioned quickly, staring down at you. wanda wished she knew exactly what you were thinking at that moment. "if you want to talk to him, you-" wanda let a soft chuckle escape past her lips and it made you stop talking altogether. instead, you stared up at her in question wondering what part of this was funny.
"the only thing I want to do is have a good time with you, baby," she whispered, her hands finding their place around you as she tugged you incredibly close. you could feel her breath fanned out over your lips and it made your eyes fluttered shut, awaiting the small impact.
Natasha watched from across the room as wanda kissed you with everything inside of her. she knew letting you go was a mistake that should've never been made and now she had to live with the repercussions that came with it. she couldn't help but feel jealous as she watched because she remembered all the times that you promised her that wanda was only your friend and there was nothing she'd have to worry about.
she hated that she let her jealousy ruin something good but she was glad that you were happy. she couldn't be the person that you needed but she hoped wanda could be, that's what you deserved.
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After All
Character: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Just because Bucky pushed her away doesn’t mean he knows how to let go.
Word Count: 2,100 - One Shot
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She looked beautiful. Too beautiful. Bucky didn’t know why she put in such an effort for this schmuck. She didn’t need to put in any effort at all to be beautiful. And if some guy didn’t know that, then he didn’t deserve her. 
The bar had giant windows with no curtains or treatments to hide its patrons from outside observation. They did it on purpose, to hypnotize the people walking by and pull them into the romantic and dark lighting…and overpriced cocktails. 
But Bucky didn’t just notice how beautiful Y/N looked. He could also see how bored she was. Her smile was forced. He could almost hear exactly what her voice sounded like as she talked to him. Bucky would tease her about it, always knowing when she was being polite but wanted to find an out from a conversation as soon as possible. She called it her “customer service voice.”
She was probably smarter than him, Bucky thought. She was smarter than most people – maybe not Stark or Shuri, but she had her own genius that neither of those two possessed.
The only thing that could possibly make the people on the street notice Bucky’s lingering was the white vapor that appeared from his mouth every time he sighed. Which he seemed to be doing every time he noticed another piece of body language from Y/N that further proved her disinterest in this man.
It was cold, making everyone hurry to their destination, not paying him any mind. But Bucky didn’t feel the weather’s coldness anymore. Once you spend a lifetime frozen, nothing really compares.
Bucky stood up straighter when the two started making their way out of the fancy bar.
Y/N shifted her weight, not sure what the man’s next move was going to be.
He awkwardly went in for a hug.
She gave another one of her fake smiles, said her goodbyes, and started walking away.
“Not even gonna get her a cab or walk her home, you bastard?” Bucky breathed with irritation.
Men these days. Him and Steve still didn’t get it.
But he figured Y/N was glad to be done with him.
Bucky walked in the shadows of night as he kept his distance behind her. They were only a few avenues away from her apartment.
But he swore she was walking slower than usual. Like she was trying to make the journey home longer.
When they finally reached the stoop of her building, she took the steps slowly. But instead of putting her keys into the lock, she just stared at the door for a moment.
What was she thinking about? Bucky wondered.
Then Y/N quickly turned around and skipped down the stairs. She hurried across the street and made her way into the park that was directly across from her building.
She walked with more purpose now. Which made Bucky realize what was happening.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
He took in a deep breath before he followed her into the park.
Y/N sat on a bench in almost total darkness, waiting. If it weren’t for Bucky’s super-soldier sight, she would be practically invisible to him.
Bucky rubbed his face and watched her for a few moments before he made his way over.
Without any warning, he slowly sat down on the other side of the bench.
She didn’t react, didn’t even act like someone had invaded her space.
She had been waiting for him.
“What did I tell you about going to parks at night?” Bucky finally asked.
She scoffed, but didn’t look at him. “Yeah…Well, putting myself into danger is always the quickest way to get you out of hiding.”
She wasn’t wrong.
“He seemed nice.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh, fuck off, James.”
She’d stopped calling him Bucky once he broke her heart.
“Is this the part where you try to lie and tell me you liked him?” Bucky challenged with a smirk, even though there was absolutely nothing funny about the situation.
Y/N finally turned and looked at him for the first time. “What exactly are you mad about, James? That I went on a date with him or that I just went on any date at all?”
He was silent for a second. “He’s not good enough for you.”
“You’d say that about every man,” she challenged.
“Yeah, and I’d be damn right.”
Y/N shot up from the bench and turned to face him. “I’m trying!” She snapped.
Then she paused, trying to get her emotions in control. But she wasn’t successful since her eyes glazed over with tears. She managed to hold them in. “I’m really trying.”
Bucky then stood up from the bench. His body always went into a panic when Y/N cried. He felt sick to the stomach when he was the reason for it. But these days, he was always the reason..
But he couldn’t comfort her like he used to. He wasn’t allowed to touch her anymore.
Y/N sniffed, trying to play it off as if it was due to the cold instead of her unshed tears.
“You have to stop following me,” she told him as sternly as she could.
Bucky shifted his weight, but stayed quiet.
“James, I’m gonna call Steve if you keep doing this.”
And he knew she would. What he didn’t know is what Steve would do to make sure Y/N’s commands were followed through.
And it wasn’t just Steve who sided with her after the breakup, the whole team did. Any of them would love a chance to return to Y/N’s life in some way and give Bucky a piece of their mind on her behalf.
Breakup. Is that even what it should be called?
They didn’t stop loving each other. Even though Y/N hid that with the hate she now held for Bucky.
He didn’t think it was possible for someone to hate a person as much as they loved them, but Y/N seemed to do it effortlessly with him.
“We can’t do this anymore, Y/N. I have to stay away from you.” 
The words still haunted Bucky’s nightmares. All it took was one stupid article. Her full name, where she was from, what she did for work – all accompanied by a photo of them together. If it had been paparazzi, Bucky would’ve clocked the camera. His training would’ve sensed it, noticed the signs. But it had just been some asshole and their iPhone.
“How did you figure out I was tailing you?” He asked, ignoring the threat of Steve.
“Following,” she corrected. “You look like the fucking unabomber, James. You’re trying so hard to hide that you stick out even more.” She looked him up and down, taking in his black leather jacket over his black hoodie that was pulled over his black, nondescript baseball hat.
But in reality, she knew that if Bucky wanted to be completely untraceable, he would be. Which meant that he wanted her to notice him.
He didn’t realize he was doing that.
Y/N stared at the ground, scared to look into his eyes now. “I always think that I feel you watching me.” Then she glanced up at him. “But then I realized that was just me missing you.” She shook her head, embarrassed to be admitting that to him. “It wasn’t that I could feel you watching over me, it was me hoping you’d come around the next corner.”
“I miss you, too.” He admitted without hesitation.
Y/N closed her eyes and winced. “Don’t say that to me.”
“But it is true.”
Her eyes remained closed, but not even that could stop the tears from falling this time.
“Why do you have to make this so hard, Bucky?” She whispered.
The use of that name knocked the air out of his lungs.
He took a step toward her.
But she immediately took a step back. “Don’t. Please don’t, Bucky.”
“Y/N…I’m…I’m so sorry,” he muttered.
“How does this make anything better for us?” She breathed.
“I just…I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Well, I’m not!” She bawled. “Is that what you want to hear? That I’m miserable without you? That during all of these dates, I’m just comparing them to you? Is that what you want to hear? Is it?”
“No! For Christ – no, Y/N.”
“Then what do you want me to say?” She demanded.
“Nothing. You don’t owe me anything, Y/N. I know that.”
He stepped forward, it was a risk and he knew it. But she didn’t cower from him this time. Bucky slowly reached forward and wiped the tears from her cheek gently.
“I’ll never stop worrying about you. I get anxious, thinking about what could happen.”
“Well, I stopped being your responsibility when you broke up with me.” She knew that was her broken heart speaking, but she had to give it at least one round.
Bucky nodded, knowing he deserved that.
Y/N looked around her. “It’s been almost a year, Bucky. We can’t keep doing this.”
“I know,” he mumbled as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground.
“We need to move on…if that’s even possible. We have to try either way.”
“I know,” Bucky repeated.
But he also knew he could never replace her. However, she deserved to fill the bleeding hole he left after he broke her heart.
“Goodnight, James.” She told him coldly.
He just nodded.
But she hadn’t moved yet.
Before she could change her mind, she stepped into him and Bucky immediately opened his arms to her. She buried her face into his shoulder. Her senses took him in, memorizing every detail. His cologne. The feel of his leather jacket that he’d broken in to perfectly mold around his body. His inhuman body heat.
Bucky did the same.
When Y/N pulled away, her eyes locked to his like those blue irises were magnets.
“You should get home now, doll,” he whispered as his gaze flickered to her lips. His hands were caressing her face now.
She just nodded, feeling the new tension.
Bucky leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead.
It took every ounce of strength she had to walk away. She wouldn’t let herself turn around and look back once she started walking. But she felt his eyes on her, watching to make sure she made it to her front door safely.
She knew he wouldn’t leave until he saw the light turn on in her bedroom.
Y/N counted to 1,000 before she allowed her crying to start again.
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Bucky turned the light on in the kitchen.
“Bucky…”
He had been dreading this. “What? What do you want, Steve?”
The other super soldier leaned in the doorway with his arms crossed. He was giving Bucky the look that no one wanted to get from Captain America. It was the look of disappointment.
“Y/N called.”
That was all Steve needed to say.
Bucky ignored him and poured himself a drink – vodka on the rocks. It was Nat’s hidden stash. But he’d deal with that tomorrow.
“You can’t push her away and then shove yourself back into her life whenever you feel like it. That’s not fair to her and you know it,” Steve warned.
Bucky threw the vodka back before he countered with, “You said you understood why I did it.”
“Yes, I understood it. I didn’t agree with it. And I definitely don’t agree with you continuing to torture Y/N and yourself.”
Bucky tried to pour himself another glass of vodka, but Steve ripped the bottle from his grasp.
“Are you even listening to me?” Steve growled.
“I stand by what I did!” Bucky shouted. “I did what had to be done! And I did it so she could be safe, so she could have a fucking life!”
He caught his breath and his hand rubbed across his face. “I know I shouldn’t go see her. I know that. But…But I’m only human, Steve. I can’t help it.”
Steve sighed, his sympathy now outweighing his anger.
He gripped Bucky’s shoulder. “I know, Buck.”
“I’ll stop. I promise. I owe her that at least.” Bucky bowed his head in shame.
“I’ll check on her. We all will.” They would do it so Bucky didn’t have to.
“Thank you, Steve.”
“Just get some sleep. OK, Buck?”
He nodded, even though he stopped really sleeping when she was no longer in his bed.
------------
I wrote this about a month ago and obviously didn’t want to share it with how much everyone sucks on here. 
Figured I’d give this site a chance to redeem itself, but not getting my hopes up. 
I’m still on “hiatus” or whatever, and not really interacting with people on here. 
If you really miss me that much... One Shot – Masterlist
(Also, friendly reminder that just because a fic is old, doesn’t mean you can’t comment on it anymore.)
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