#i will not get drunk because i hate the loss of control <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cera-writes · 4 months ago

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HII so I found your page the other day and I loveee your work😁😁. Anyhow I wanted to request if it was okay for me to ask for a story about gambit x reader angst/smut/fluff (it’s a lot I know😭🙏). And let’s say reader gets really drunk at a party and they’re making a fool out of themselves and gambit tries to help you out of the situation and the reader is being bratty in their drunken state refusing any help and it causes gambit to snap at them a bit but ends with some smut and fluff, BUT if that’s Okayy ofc🙏😁. Keep up the great work😁🤍

A/N: I love this idea! And thank you so much! I try! <3 pairing: Remy LeBeau "Gambit" x gn!Reader Tags: Swearing, intoxication, partying, fluff, angst, smut, spanking, reader has a bratty side, Remy punishes reader in all the good ways Summary: Reader is having the time of their life at a party thrown at the X-Mansion while Charles is off taking care of business. Reader gets carried away and has a little too much to drink and well, let's just say Remy is there to deal with the aftermath which eventually leads to smut~

Drunk in Love

The music pulsed through the mansion like a relentless heartbeat, the bass vibrating through your bones. Laughter, shouts, and the clinking of glasses filled the air. You were supposed to be having fun, but the world was spinning, and your vision was blurring at the edges. Each sip of alcohol seemed to send you deeper into a hazy oblivion.

It all started when you made a bet that you could outdrink Logan. You knew damn well you couldn't hold your liquor. But that didn't stop you. Morph was egging you on and hyping you up the entire time. Then, before you knew it, you were shotgunning a can of beer, which, in turn, led to the oncoming of disastrous events afterwards.

Logan, still somewhat sober after his sixth drink, smirked at you as you swayed back and forth after your third shot of whiskey. He knew he had won, but you weren't gonna take that loss by any means.

You found Charles' wine cabinet and poured a glass of Cabernet. You weren't completely drunk but damn were you feeling very tipsy.

A hand landed on your shoulder, steady and grounding. You swatted it away, giggling inanely. “Go awaaay, Remy,” you slurred, your voice a childish whine.

Remy LeBeau, your ever patient best friend, sighed. He’d been watching you for the past hour, his brow furrowed in concern. You were usually the life of the party, but now you were just a stumbling mess. “Mon cher, maybe it’s time to call it a night,” he suggested gently.

You scoffed, your laughter sounding more like a hiccup. “No, I’m fine!” you protested, your voice rising in pitch. “Best. Party. Ever!”

Remy exchanged a look with Scott, who was hovering nearby, a mixture of amusement and worry in his eyes. “Maybe we should get her home,” Scott suggested.

You turned on him, your face flushing an angry red. “I don’t need a goddamn babysitter!” you shouted, your voice echoing through the room. A few heads turned, and you felt a surge of embarrassment.

Remy’s patience was wearing thin. “Enough, mon cher,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re embarrassin' yourself.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Y-you’re e-embarrassing me,” you retorted, your voice slurring pretty badly.

A wave of anger washed over Remy. He hated seeing you like this. He hated the way the alcohol was taking control of you. He hated the way you were pushing him away. He'd always liked you of course, and just because the two of you hadn't made things official didn't mean he still didn't treat you like you were his, especially at times like this.

But seeing you dance on all the strangers at the party, giving them the attention he craved from you, struck a match in him. He wanted to be protective of you, but you were also pissing him off to no end.

"Jus' the alcohol talkin' cher. C'mon, I'll take ya home."

When he tried to reach for your arm, you snapped on instinct. You reared back and slapped him hard across the face.

The sharp crack of your hand against Remy's cheek echoed through the room, cutting through the din of the party like a knife. His eyes widened for a moment in surprise before narrowing, a flicker of something dark and dangerous passing over his features. He rubbed at his cheek, not in pain, but as if to confirm the reality of the slap. Then, he smirked, a wicked glint in his eye that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Don't touch me!" you spat, your voice thick with anger and defiance. But even as the words left your lips, a wave of regret washed over you. You hadn't meant to hit him, not really. It was the alcohol talking, fueling your actions with a boldness you didn't possess otherwise.

Remy stepped closer, his body pressing against yours, backing you up against the wall. The heat from his chest seared through your clothes, mingling with the warmth of the alcohol in your veins. Amidst the music still pulsating loudly through the room, he leaned in close to your ear. "Is dat how it's gon' be, cher?" he murmured, his voice low and husky, a challenge in every syllable.

You could practically smell the scent of whiskey and cigarette smoke lingering his lips. He'd never been quite this close to you before and it made your heart race.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. The room spun around you, the lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of color. "I-I...," you stammered, your resolve wavering under his intense gaze.

His hand slid up your arm, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. "Y'think ya can jus' hit me and walk away, cher?" he asked, his tone teasing yet threatening.

You shivered, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. "I... I didn't really mean it," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Remy leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Maybe Remy liked it," he confessed, his breath hot against your skin. "Maybe he want more."

Before you could respond, his hand moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel every inch of him, hard and demanding. "What're you doing?" you breathed, your mind racing as your body betrayed you, responding to his touch with a surge of desire.

"Showin' you what happens when you mess with me," he whispered, his lips trailing kisses down your neck. Each touch was light, almost playful, but there was an underlying intensity that made your heart race. "Don' think I ain't noticed the way you been dancin' all night."

You moaned softly, tilting your head back to give him better access. The alcohol had blurred the lines between right and wrong, making every sensation more acute, every emotion more raw. "Remy..." you pleaded, unsure of what you were asking for but desperate for more. You wanted whatever this was, desperately.

Maybe he'd had a bit to drink too, in all honesty. He just knew he had to have you, too. Right now.

He chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, sending vibrations through you. "Say my name again, cher," he demanded, his hand sliding up to cup your face. His thumb traced your bottom lip, his gaze locked heavily on yours.

"Remy," you repeated, your voice thick with need. You felt trapped, pinned against the wall by his body, but instead of fear, there was only surrender. You wanted this, wanted him, despite the chaos swirling inside you. You'd wanted this for a while, although you'd never been one to make the first move.

"Dat's right cher," he praised, his eyes darkening with satisfaction. "Now, let's see how much more you can take."

With that, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you towards the stairs. The crowd parted for both of you, whispers and stares following your progress. But you were beyond caring, lost in the haze of alcohol and Remy's commanding presence.

He kicked open the door, stepping into a dimly lit room. You'd guessed it was his. It honestly wouldn't have mattered if you two had decided to fuck in a broom closet for all you cared.

The air was cooler here, a contrast to the heat building between you. He set you down on the bed, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Ready fo' round two, cher?" he asked, his voice a seductive growl.

You nodded, your mouth dry, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Remy smiled, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Den let's begin," he said, his hands moving to unbutton your shirt.

Remy's hands were rough as they tore at your clothes, the fabric rending under his urgency. You gasped as the cool air hit your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Remy's body. His lips found your neck, pressing hot kisses that quickly turned into bites, each one sending a shock of pleasure and pain through you.

"Remy!" you hissed, your voice mingling with the sounds of your clothing being discarded. His name was a plea, a demand, a surrender all at once.

He chuckled against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. "Ya like dat, cher?" he murmured, his tongue caressing the skin at your neck to soothe the marks he'd left.

You nodded, unable to form words as his hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming. The room spun around you, the world reduced to the sensations Remy was creating.

Without warning, he flipped you over, your stomach landing on the bed as he positioned himself behind you. You felt his hand on your back, pressing you down as he whispered in your ear, "Y'need to be punished."

His words instantly sent a thrill through you, a mix of shame and excitement that pooled low in your belly. You whimpered, arching your back slightly, inviting him to continue.

His hand lifted, then came down hard on your ass, the slap echoing through the room. You cried out, the pain sharp and sudden, but beneath it, there was an undeniable rush of arousal.

"Dat's for hittin' me," Remy said, his voice thick with desire. He spanked you again, harder this time, the force making your whole body tremble.

You moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as he continued his assault, each strike more punishing than the last. The pain was intense, but it was laced with such overwhelming pleasure that you couldn't help but push back against his hand, begging for more.

"Please," you gasped, your voice raw. "More, Remy, please."

He paused, his hand resting on your reddened flesh. "Y'want more, cher? You wanna be taught a lesson?"

You nodded, your breathing erratic as you waited for his next move.

Remy chuckled, the sound dark and pleased. "Den let's see how much you can take."

With that, he slicked himself up with something you'd seen him reach for in his dresser drawer and entered you from behind, his thrusts deep and hard, each one hitting your core with unrelenting force. You screamed, the sound torn from your throat as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

"Yes, yes, yes!" you chanted, your body moving in sync with his, lost in the rhythm he had set.

Remy growled, his grip tightening on your hips as he pounded into you. "You like dis, don't you? Bein' punished by me? Such a-mm!-good lil' slut you're bein' fo' Gambit." He bit back his own moan, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

You could only moan in response, your mind too consumed by sensation to form coherent thoughts.

He reached around, his fingers finding your center, touching you in all the right ways as he continued to thrust. The dual stimulation was too much, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me, cher," Remy commanded, his voice ragged with his own need. "Show me how much you love bein' punished."

That was all it took. With a final, desperate cry, you shattered around him, your body convulsing in release as he continued to thrust, chasing his own climax.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice a mixture of awe and triumph. "S'good fo' me."

You felt him tense, then he was coming inside you, his seed filling you as his body shuddered with his release.

For a moment, there was silence, the only sound your heavy breathing and the pounding of your hearts. Then, Remy collapsed beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close.

"I think we both needed that," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

You nodded, too spent to speak. The alcohol had fueled your actions, but it was Remy who had taken control, guiding you through a night of passion and punishment that neither of you would soon forget.

#xmen #x men 97 #remy lebeau #cera writes #gambit #gambit x reader #remy lebeau x reader #gn!reader

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dollhouse-lied · 23 days ago

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My creepypasta sex headcannons <3

(I hc nina and ben as minors so they will not be listed, enjoy!!)

Jeff

very much a switch, but only bottoms in certain situations, aka rarely.

He enjoys the power dynamics of bdsm, the total sense of control and ownership

He LOVES gags on his partner, the feeling that they cant tell you anything (including no) drives him nuts.

He likes treating his partners like prey, making them fearful of what he will do next gets him off like nothing else can

He likes to bite, scratch, slap, cut, or do anything to degrade his partner. He IS the ultimate authority

He isnt afraid of drawing blood during sex, in fact that makes it better

He doesn't have an orientation, a hole is a hole

He doesn't do aftercare, usually he nuts, cleans himself up, and leaves. If your lucky youll get a kiss or a pet name as he says goodbye

Eyeless jack

Hes a sweetheart, but he is also part feral animal. He finds sex to be the ultimate example of trust, because once he gets going its hard for him to stop.

Having sex with him only occurs if you completely trust that he won't hurt you no matter how rough it gets. He doesn't want to hurt you at all, so he respects all boundaries.

He is very aggressive and horny, so expect multiple orgasms.

He is very good at checking in on your limits, knowing you are very breakable compared to him. He creates safe words and safe signals for you

He is VERY good with his tounge, especially since he has multiple.

He doesn't really like bondage or even bdsm because he knows he can easily put you overboard or even kill you if something goes wrong. He does like anal though. Tight….

He doesn't really pull out, but if you ask him specifically to or if you are afab he will. Hes not about to become a father.

Once hes had his way with you, he will kiss and cuddle you, bringing you anything you need before curling up in your arms or at your feet.

Ticci toby

Hes definitely a switch, but is pretty easy to make bottom. Just start degrading him and refuse to let him touch you and hes a whining begging mess

He is a whiny bitch, making way too much noise to be reasonable, but he just cant help it. He loves everything you do, worshipping the very ground you walk on

He loves some fat on his partners, he just thinks it's beautiful.

He likes being treated like subhuman, not necessarily pet play but definitely something submissive and breakable

When he does top, he likes to be ridden. Motherfucker hates topping so bad

He likes to be tied up, the loss of control feeling freeing.

He does like being choked a LOT, the blurring of his vision makes his head spin and turns him into a whimpering mess

He doesnt like being penatrated that much, but he will take it in certain senarios.

He is bisexual but has a preference for women. Pussy……

Afterwards he acts like a princess, expecting to be held and kissed. If you have needs, he will do it but he usually won't like it.

Masky

Hes not a switch, more a top with a breaking point. If you somehow force him to bottom, hes going to fight you the whole time. It might be hot for a little bit, but he will be getting back in control soon and has no problem taking it out on you.

He likes choking his partner, watching the thoughts leave their head as they slowly black out only for him to slap them awake and do it again, god it gets him off.

If he likes you however, he is gentle and loving, often checking in. Hes still going to choke and hit you, but he will take care of you.

He is known to prefer men, often ignoring women in favor of a twink.

He doesn't quite degrade you, but makes sure there is a clear power dynamic between him and his partner. He is in charge, not you.

A lot of times he is drunk during sex, as when he is sober hes more focused on staying alive and stopping his intrusive thoughts.

He doesn't need sex, its just a little treat.

After he will clean you up, get you a water, advil, food, anything you need, and cuddle you until you fall asleep, but usually is gone by morning.

Hoodie

Hes a bottom. No questions asked.

He loves getting backshots with his hands held behind his back, that is THE BEST SEX.

Otherwise he is fairly vanilla, not liking bdsm that much.

He usually just jacks off instead if seeking out a partner.

He only really has feelings for *one guy*, but that *one guy* isn't interested in what he wants.

Clockwork

Shes too traumatized to really enjoy sex, often choosing to masturbate instead of risking being taken advantage of.

She wishes she could enjoy sex, she just sees it as a punishment for feeling emotions.

Shes only ever had feelings for one person, but shes buried them deep within herself because she can't understand what a healthy relationship is.

Definitely a lesbian, no one can convince me otherwise.

#creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #jeff the killer #eyeless jack #clockwork creepypasta #masky marble hornets #hoodie marble hornets #mh masky #hoodie mh #ticci toby

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hurt-over-comfort · 6 months ago

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Story & OC introduction!

Hello! So, after far too long of a wait, I have finished this OC introduction post!

In the future I’ll think about how to organize this better, maybe as a google docs or maybe as a separate website, but for now this is as good as I can make it.

It might be quite long given the sheer amount of OC’s introduced so I kept the descriptions to a minimum - I’d love to expand on that later once I decide what’s the best way to do it. Also, all asks about characters and the stories are super welcome! I love talking about my blorbos.

This post focuses on introducing one of my two main stories and their casts, but all of these characters exist through different AUs. I will share more details about the second story soon, I haven't finished writing descriptions for that one yet : (

“JOINT VENTURE” AKA COLLEGE AU

My main squeeze, the story I think about most often and what I consider the ‘baseline’ for the character’s personalities. It's definitely a whumpy story, but I doesn't focus exclusively on whump.

In short, it’s a story of the destructive relationship between two college students and how their decision to partner up and make some cash haunts them. A story about addiction, desperation, control and loss of it, of all encompassing love and betrayal. It’s doomed, it’s tragic, it’s abusive, it’s gay!!! Content warnings for the story: sadism&masochism, torture, noncon.

I’d love to elaborate, but to not make this post any longer than it needs to be, here are the featured characters!

1. ALBERT

My main guy, nr one little guy inside my head. I love my Oc’s equally, except for Albert, whom I love the most. (I also hate him the most, so it equalizes.)

Albert is a rich kid fuck boy who everyone only pretends to like. He’s a rather bright chem-engineering student who spends most of his time getting drunk, high and having lots of party sex. It seems like life handed him a golden ticket - good looks, filthy rich parents, great education - and maybe that’s why he started acting out, because it all was going too well. And now it’s harder to pretend that everything is great, which makes him try even harder, become faker.

The only person who truly sees through him is Cedric and maybe that’s why he hates him so much. Only sometimes, he doesn’t hate him - sometimes he feels a wild yearning for any shred of Cedric’s validation or affection, and he buries that feeling so deeply that he’s not aware it’s even happening. He prefers denial - denial that everything is amazing, that he didn’t fuck up his life entirely, that Cedric is no one to him. It works until it doesn’t and for these times even the usual vices don’t stop him from spiraling. He hates it, or maybe he doesn’t, it’s hard to tell - He’s so dangerously masochistic that he might just be in love with being miserable.

2. CEDRIC

(OC of the lovely @whmp)

Albert’s roommate and the absolute bane of his existence. The person who hates him the most and conversely the only one that can put up with his antics. He’s spent so much time trying and failing to get away from Albert that now he just accepts him as any other inevitability of life. Vaguely aware of Albert’s feelings toward him and even less aware of his own feelings for him.

A major control freak about everything in his life, from academics to personal relationships. Will claim he just want to be left alone but will get lonely if that actually happens. He’s aloof and quiet with a tendency to be outright mean and sarcastic when in a bad mood, sees people mostly as noisy distractions. Annoyingly aware of his own intelligence, definitely thinks he’s better than other people. In between studying and dealing with Albert he has a little business on the side - synthesizing drugs.

3. NICKY

Cedric’s sweet boyfriend, a chronically online liberal arts major and Albert’s number one secret hater. He’s not the smartest, but he makes it up with his enthusiasm and a general aura of positivity. Will make you a delicious meal if asked, but will also go on twitter and argue for hours about the stupidest, most inconsequential things. In between watching anime and romanticizing every aspect of his life he loves to game with Cedric’s weirdo friend, Leo.

4. LEO

(Also OC of @whmp)

An absolute social reject shut-in loser who spends most of his days browsing very questionable websites and forums. Doesn’t mind people, but doesn’t like them either - he’s so apathetic it’s hard to make him care about anything, really. That includes being likable, so he never tries to cover up his nature (he sees any relationship as a transaction anyway). Not hard to get along with if you can stand him, but you probably shouldn’t try because he’s not a good person. Not so secretly sadistic - maybe he loves it so much because violence and abuse is one of the only things that can make him feel anything. Awkward most of the time, especially for those incredibly rare times where he feels any attachment to a person. Stay away at all cost.

5. DARCY

A wicked demon in the vague shape of a man (metaphorically). There is little humanity left in him, or maybe there was none there to begin with. Bastard son of a prominent cartel leader with high ambitions how to run things and 0 actual leadership power. He’s the clean up guy, tasked with disappearing the people that the cartel doesn’t need anymore. And before he buries them in the desert somewhere, why shouldn’t he have some fun with them? They can have a lovely evening or two and when whatever is left of them is dropped into a shallow grave Darcy will have already moved on.

6. CECILE

Albert’s accomplished older sister. They talk sometimes, and she worries about him a lot, but their relationship is rather strained. Her life is a constant juggle between her demanding job and family life, and maybe if she keeps it up she’ll have no time to think about the life she could have had. About the people she had lost.

7. WILLOW

Willow used to be a best friend of Cecile back when they were younger. They’d sneak off at night and go onto the grassy fields, setting up a picnic to enjoy it just as the sun rises. They’d talk for hours while laying on their back and staring at the sky, hands so close their fingers could touch if any of them would be a little braver. They were close and wanted to be so, so much closer, but you can’t get everything you want in life, right?

---

That's it for now! Very excited to be sharing all of this with you! The picrew used is the amazing sushicore!

Here is also a little sneak peek at some of the characters of my second story while I work on writing descriptions for them!

#whump #whump art #oc introduction #story introduction #whump oc #my blorbos #i really love these goobers and im very excited to show them at last #like this took me forever #but its done!#jdraws #oc #albert #cedric #leo #nicky #darcy #cecile #willow

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cheekycherry20 · 2 months ago

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My father has never been present in my life. Between the ages of 12-20 (my processing years) I always told myself he tried. My family never liked him while my mom was alive, so when she passed they didn’t allow him custody. I would hear from him from phone calls every couple of months, about twice a year between 5-8 years old. He would make a promise, or say how much he missed us, and throw in the occasional “I miss your mom”.

I wasn’t old enough to understand that his empty promises were messing me up. The constant disappointment creating an avoidant attachment. He kept his promise ONCE, getting me and my sisters a big bag of toys, which my grandmother took from us. My family made it very obvious that they didn’t like him, so I understood why he wasn’t around. But when he would call it was like he cared. He would say how smart I am, how big I’m getting, how much he loved us. I would get more verbal praise from him in 20 minutes than my whole family would give me in a month. I thought this was love.

My teenage years, he started going to my uncle more. I’m guessing my uncle would filter out his attempts because we wouldn’t hear from him. When my older sisters graduation rolled around (I was 16) he said he was visiting. My family’s hatred for him had rubbed up on me by them, so I was slightly annoyed. I’m not sure what I was annoyed with. Was it putting a face to the man that always let me down? But he actually did it.

When my grandma called me into the living room, there he was. Along with some woman and three kids. My mom passed when I was very young, I wasn’t expecting him to just mourn her loss for the rest of his life. It was seeing his kids. Three daughters. Well fed, clean clothes, and they were all over him. He had already had three daughters, US. I remember how awkward it was. I just wanted to go in my room. I remember joking with my little sister about how he found a white women using humor to cope. I saw him again at graduation dinner, and he cracked jokes about how I had a crush on Steph curry (I don’t).

my sophomore year he would call more consistently, he even started sending money. His calls were scheduled happening about 1 a week. He would talk about coming to my graduation, getting me a car, asking us to visit him, etc. I took the money obviously but I actually started to believe he cared again.Then it stopped. He called during mySenior year once. Then he stopped. When I was 19 he started to make an effort again. His problem was he was doing it drunk, and in the middle of the night. I stopped picking up his calls. He would ask why we weren’t calling him first. The last thing I heard from him was how he was sorry about missing my graduation.

I always wondered why I have a need to be picked first in friendships. But it’s because of him. My own father didn’t think about his first borns. All the phone calls felt like a lie. He had time to raise 3 MORE daughters and chose to move on from his other 3. I truly understand his blockages. Yea my family hated him, but so what? You’re talking all this big game to young impressionable kids and you can’t even back it up. That’s not love, and thanks to you, I don’t know how to love. I always go for people who don’t like me back, I tweak out when I’m disappointed and not in control of situations, and I always need to be peoples first priority.

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rozinaaa · 5 months ago

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New Month, New Week, New Day, New Beginnings

To be honest, I'm getting bored of being depressed and crying about things that I can't control, since there is literally nothing that I can do about that, not to mention that this actually prevents me from what needs to get done, as well as focusing on the things that I can control.

Well, today is Monday 1st July 2024 (and there's something satisfying about a new week starting on the first day of the month), which means that I'm now officially unemployed, but I don't want that to define me since I know that I can bring so much to the table for my next role, now that I've at least got a year's experience under my belt.

Whenever I hear the word "unemployment", I always imagine a depressed middle aged man with greying hair and a pot belly sat in a dingy pub, who always manages to put a dampener on everyone's mood, and I know for a fact that this isn't me at all (even though it sometimes feels like I am that person), because 1. I'm 23 years old, 2. I'm a woman, 3. I wouldn't say I'm depressed, but I've been in very close contact with depression itself over the past few weeks and months to the point where it's become downright scary, like it's some silly little demon that's nicking your soul away and leaving you as a shell of your former self, so controlling it and fighting it is extremely important before it takes over your entire life, and 4. I hate pubs, since the atmosphere in most of them don't feel too welcoming to me, to the point where if I'm dragged along to them by people who actually enjoy drinking (I personally don't see the appeal in drinking, and I already don't do it due to religious and cultural reasons, so at least I can say that to get out of those situations), I'm already planning my escape, I don't like the sticky tables and floors, and I absolutely hate the smell of alcohol, as well as the guilt of being surrounded by people who gradually become a little bit more drunk as time goes on, but not interfering with it due to the fear of being viewed as someone who's no fun.

Although I was thinking about turning the curation front into a business right now, it's still in the early stages, and I'm basically operating at a loss, so turning it into a business will put a ridiculous amount of pressure on me, not to mention that it'll take the fun out of curating things, so for now, I'll view it as a passion project that I do on the side, and that's how I'll most likely list it on my CV.

I've applied for benefits (which feels a bit embarrassing, but also humbling at the same time, since everyone will most likely have to apply for them at some point), so hopefully I can use that (and the support from the job centre and university) to allow me to find another job as soon as possible instead of suffering through the job hunting process entirely on my own, because I know that I need as much help as I can get.

It definitely does feel weird to not have anything to do (apart from some light housekeeping, but mainly chucking things either into the laundry, the dryer, or the dishwasher), but to me, it still feels like I'm working at my old job (and for a brief moment, it felt like I was about to start a new job, which is currently no job, but to also spend my time applying for a new job), mainly because I worked from home most of the time, so it doesn't really make that much of a difference for me, apart from the fact that I'm now using my personal laptop to do everything, and that I'm actively searching for a job as well as actively networking a lot more on LinkedIn, so that other people know that I exist.

Anyway, here's to new beginnings and being resilient in the face of endless rejections.

#context

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whatwewishwesaidandothersecrets · 10 months ago

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Tw for child neglect, childhood trauma, (mild) child abuse, gaslighting, divorce, domestic child labor, alcoholism, non-specific eating disorder, depression, traumatic memory loss, imposter syndrome, emotional / mental abuse / manipulation / gaslighting

I'm fourteen. My parents divorced when I was three and my little sister was one. Even before that, I'm told I used to try to step in between their arguments. I don't remember that far back. I used to spend a few days with my dad followed by a few days by my mom etc etc. My mom moved in with a guy who I instantly hated; they even got engaged. The guy had a son. My mom admits that their relationship was mostly sexual- they would stay in their room every day until like 12 pm, and we weren't allowed to bother them unless it was really important. That put me, a 4 year old, in charge of my little sister and stepbrother, 2 & 3 years old. Tbh I was a bit of a tyrant- my world was unstable and my only safe way of lashing out was to become a control freak over what my siblings did during the time that I was responsible for them. I was also responsible for tidying our shared room, sorting and folding our laundry, and setting the table. My mom's then-fiancee was also the first adult to ever hit me, which was quickly followed by my mom. When we moved out from there, I was six, and my mom was sick. She went through multiple operations and wasn't allowed to carry anything remotely heavy, leaving me to not only do the washing, but the cooking and the dishes and the shopping. Among the operations she went through was a hysterectomy, and the hormone crash resulted in a depression that never left. We moved through a lot of houses before she finally bought one a few years ago. All the while, I was doing way more in the household than a person my age should've, and practically (co-)parenting my little sister. There were a few years where I simply refused to cook because it reminded me too much of how down I felt when I had to. My mom's always had a habit of drinking alchohol when things are too much, putting on sad songs and crying when she got drunk. I still have trouble telling when people are drunk because I grew up just thinking people acted like that. She's very depressed nowadays. She barely eats, which I often remind her to. Dinner at her house consists of meat in the airfryer that we individually get whenever we get hungry- it's not a sit-down event. She doesn't parent us, I don't think she knows how. She works mostly from home, having online meetings and sitting behind the laptop all day. She falls asleep on the sofa or stays up until late watching crime series, and I have to get her to bed. Sorry that this got so long- the problem is this:

My dad hasn't seen any of this. He doesn't really know. I've tried to tell him, but he just keeps acting like I'm making stuff up. He tells me I'm being dramatic and that I just want to be traumatized so I can martyr myself, and that I blame everyone else for my problems. He says that I never do any chores, and he doesn't believe I do everything around my mom's house. He says that I've made it up that I parent my sister, that none of the examples I give of how I parent her are parenting, that I'm just her sibling. And- I'm not. I know I'm not. My sister knows I'm not, she knows I raised her and she regularly refers to me as her 'motherly figure' or something like that. I also have a lot of issues now due to how I was raised, both on my mom's and dad's side. But, sometimes I start to believe my dad, because I don't really remember a lot of those times very well. I was still a toddler when my mom was engaged to that asshole and I barely remember anything about the time my mom was sick. I put it up to trauma, but- how do I know I'm not lying to myself or misremembering if I don't remember? Is my dad gaslighting me or am I wrong?

OK, full disclosure, I'm no therapist. I'm just a 20 year old who struggles a lot and goes to a lot of therapy, and wants to help people.

That being said, while I was never in such a severe situation, I have gone through (on a waaaaay smaller scale) some similar experiences. I know what it's like to do the cleaning while your mum is crying, to live on pot noodles as a kid because you can't cook and your parent's can't (because they actually can't or they can but won't) make you anything. To raise yourself. I'm the youngest, so I was "lucky" in not having to raise anyone. I can't imagine that burden and I am so, so fucking sorry that was put on you, especially from such a young age. That's beyond not fair. I hope you know that I'm so so proud of you, for making it this far, when not only did you have to raise yourself and your siblings (that's a thing called parentification) but being stuck with bouncing homes and violence. I am so sorry. Please know it's not your fault. You never did anything wrong. And even if you in some way hurt your siblings (being a "control freak") you were doing the best you could. That's all that matters. You are strong, and amazing, and deserving of love and peace. Just know that, OK? And you're not alone.

What your dad is doing is just wrong. First of all, it's 10000% not in your head, you even have someone else agreeing with you. And forgetting memories? That's a trauma symptom. When things get too hard emotionally, sometimes the mind tries to block it out as a defense mechanism. It goes "this is too much" and puts it in a little box to be opened later when it deems safe enough. Not remembering an event well doesn't mean it didn't happen. Trust me on that, I've had times when I'm falling asleep and suddenly tense up, fists clenched cause I remembered that one time in 2014 when Bad Things ™ happened. It doesn't mean it didn't happen, it just means your mind is being a dick but trying to help by blocking it out.

The tricky thing with gaslighting is it all depends on what the gaslighter actually believes. If he genuinely believes none of this happened, it's not gaslighting, he's just an asshole for not listening… but the part that makes me think "huh, that's not right" is that he gets so defensive. Something is definitely off with that. If he genuinely thought you were making it up, he wouldn't get so angry. I don't know all the facts, but I would say that's gaslighting, or manipulation of some kind. And how you can tell if you're lying to yourself? Well, your sister has seen how things are now. And things are still bad now, so even if you're wrong about the past, a lot of shit is still happening. You are valid either way. And if you're lying about the past to make yourself feel like a martyr, you wouldn't be asking that question, with genuine fear that you're wrong. One question, how do you feel when you think about what's happened? Do you feel sick, uncomfortable, angry, fight-flight-freeze-fawn? Does a certain sound or object or smell make you panic? If you can't remember properly, maybe you have triggers. And if you have triggers, it (or something) happened. (I'm sorry if this sounds harsh!! I just know how overwhelming it can be when your mind tells you you're crazy, and I find harsh truth works best in those instances, I'm sorry if I'm wrong!!). Also if you were making it up, you wouldn't be traumatized and have mental issues. For what it's worth, I believe you wholeheartedly.

OK, sorry this is so long!! I just want to help, but again, please know I'm only a 20 year old with trauma, I'm not a therapist or anyone with a degree, I could be wrong. But I'm not wrong in the fact that you are strong and deserve better than this. I'm not wrong when I tell you something is bad there and to please seek help, tell a teacher, talk to an aunt or uncle or some adult you trust and could possibly live with. Even just talking with a councellor on the phone if you can after school. And I'm not wrong when I tell you you're not alone. If you want to talk more, I'm always here for you, through asks or dms or whatever. You are going to be OK <33

#safe space secrets #you are not alone #asks #tw child abuse

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itadores · 3 years ago

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my thoughts on jjk characters + drinking

note: i just wanted to babble a little bit

featuring: fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, nanami kento, todo aoi

genre/warnings: gender neutral reader, alcohol consumption, a little angsty for gojo’s part toward the end, mentions of drugging (but nothing happens!!), suggestive at the end for nanami’s and todo’s part

fushiguro megumi

fushiguro drinks occasionally- not too often, not too infrequently.

he’s more of a social drinker. he only drinks when he gets roped into it by kugisaki and itadori. (he pretends to think it over every time they bring up wanting to do something and drinking, but he always agrees in the end. by now, kugisaki and itadori know that fushiguro will assent to their plans, but they still go through the act of “convincing” him.)

he’s not a lightweight, but he’s not a heavyweight. he’s somewhere in between. he’s pretty good at handling his alcohol.

he’s not a big fan of taking shots. watching kugisaki and itadori get shit-faced and having to take care of them at the end of the night is enough to turn him off from drinking too heavily. fushiguro prefers to knock back a few beers and sip on them throughout the night while kugisaki and itadori challenge each other to drinking competitions.

his cheeks get so rosy when he drinks!! it’s the cutest thing ever. his face gets so flushed, and it stands out so much against his fair skin. you can’t help but kiss him on the cheeks multiple times throughout the night because of how cute he looks, which only worsens his blush. </3

he doesn’t drink to get drunk, (he’s traumatized from the times he let himself get riled up by kugisaki and itadori’s playful gibes and got way too drunk as a result.) but he enjoys being buzzed.

he’s pretty quiet when he’s intoxicated, piping up here and there to insert himself into the conversation that goes on around him, but he gets a little more clingy than usual.

fushiguro normally reserves displays of affection for behind closed doors, but once he has enough alcohol in him, he’s more inclined to touch you. he’ll rest his head on your shoulder and bury his face in the curve of your neck. he doesn’t do anything scandalous, but he’s more lax and free with his affection. he sort of forgets that he’s in public, and it’s only when kugisaki directs a teasing remark at him that he remembers.

his face will flame up and he’ll mutter shut up at kugisaki, but he won’t change his position. you’re comfortable and warm, and fushiguro is too relaxed to allow his friends playful teasing to get to him too much.

but the next morning, he will get a little embarrassed when he recalls what he did the previous night in the company of his friends. he’s not ashamed, but he knows that he’ll receive an onslaught of light-hearted teasing comments from kugisaki and itadori later that day when he sees them.

gojo satoru

gojo rarely drinks.

number one, he hates the taste of alcohol. when i say he hates it, i mean he abhors it. he gets a drop of it on his tongue, and he acts like he just ingested poison. or he gets a whiff of the strong scent of alcohol, and his face contorts into an expression that screams that he just smelled something foul!! he’s a lil over dramatic (read: very over dramatic).

number two, he doesn’t like the loss of control and vulnerability that comes with drinking. alcohol messes with his eyes, and he can’t have that. gojo is the strongest sorcerer there is, and he has to be ready for anything at any time. he also gets in his feels when he gets drunk which i’ll touch upon later.

but if he does drink, gojo gets the sugariest concoctions there are. he loves the cute little, fruity mixed drinks that barely taste like alcohol. if it tastes even a little like alcohol, gojo’s face immediately scrunches up in disgust, and he’ll ask the bartender to add some more syrup or dilute the drink more.

he is also the biggest lightweight ever. he should be limited to only one of his sweet, mixed drinks, but he’ll typically down as many as he possibly can before he gets cut off by the bartender, one of his few friends, or you. and when gojo does cut off, he tries to insist that he’s alright, even if he’s slurring his words and tripping over his own feet.

if gojo’s buzzed, he gets really clingy and chatty. gojo wants to be touching you at all times as he talks about everything and anything. he likes to crowd into your personal space, pressing his arm against yours as he babbles.

it can be a bit much since gojo doesn’t stop talking for a moment when he starts, but he’s really cute when he rambles about nothing. he gets so animated, wildly swinging his arms around as he gestures. you do have to make sure he doesn’t accidentally knock something over with his long arms. (it’s happened one too many times. you’ve had to apologize for gojo’s behavior when he accidentally splashed his drink on a man’s crisp, white button-down shirt.)

if gojo’s drunk, he gets surprisingly forlorn. it’s pretty obvious when gojo’s crossed the line from being buzzed to being drunk because he gets a little more quiet, a little more serious. it’s a strange look on gojo considering he typically plays the role of the fool.

if it’s even possible, gojo gets even more clingy when he’s drunk. grabby hands tug you closer to him, to the point where you’re nearly sitting entirely on his lap. there’s an edge of desperation to his movements like he needs to be as close as he possibly can to you.

at that point, you leave wherever you are, pasting on an apologetic smile as your friends give you understanding looks, so you can take gojo home.

it’s in the safety of your home that gojo falls apart. quietly, he cries into your chest as you hold him in your arms. he doesn’t say much, but what he does say breaks your heart.

don’t leave me. i don’t want to be alone. don’tleavei’msorrydon’tleavedon’tleave—

you just hold him tighter and murmur soft reassurances, that you won’t leave him, that gojo won’t be alone, that he’ll never be alone if you have any say in the matter.

the night ends when gojo finally falls asleep after exhausting himself completely.

part of the reason gojo hates drinking may be attributed to the bitter taste of alcohol, but the main reason that gojo hates drinking is because all of the turbulent feelings and emotions he suppresses when he’s sober rise to the surface, forcing him to confront them.

it is a reminder that although gojo may be the strongest, even the strongest can fall.

(luckily, you will be there to catch gojo whenever that happens.)

nanami kento

he drinks regularly.

it’s something that he started indulging in when he began working as a salaryman and continues doing when he returns to the world of sorcery.

both lines of work are stressful and draining, and nanami drinks to help take the edge off. he’s the type to drink every friday evening after work with coworkers. when he starts working as a sorcerer again, nanami grabs drinks with ieiri pretty often. sometimes, ijichi or utahime joins them. gojo rarely comes. nanami and ieiri catch up over drinks and complain about how everything is shit in their line of work.

he has a high tolerance. he’s a heavyweight and good at handling his alcohol.

he rarely gets drunk. nanami prefers to drink just enough alcohol until the weight he carries on his shoulders lightens and the tension in his muscles relaxes. his drink of choice is either beer or sake.

once the alcohol starts to hit nanami, he loosens his tie and rolls up his sleeves to his forearms and if you’re with him, he places a casual hand on your thigh as he chats with ieiri. he’ll squeeze your leg every so often and whisper into your ear to check in on you and make sure you’re doing alright.

nanami always keeps a close eye on you when you accompany him drinking. he likes to make sure you’re doing okay for his own peace of mind.

if you’re sitting at a booth or at the bar, you and nanami always sit side by side. shoulder to shoulder, your presence is grounding. reassuring. nanami likes knowing that you’re there with him.

if you get up to leave for any reason, nanami makes sure to keep your drink within your line of sight. it’s just a safety precaution. nanami knows there are some sick fucks in the world, and he will be damned if he allows anything to ever happen to you. (one time, a man didn’t realize that you were there with nanami and tried to slip something into your drink when you left your seat at the bar to use the restroom. let’s just say that the way nanami handled the situation left the man scarred for his life and nearly pissing his pants. you still have no idea that anything ever happened.)

if you happen to be out with his friends / coworkers, he ensures that you’re a part of the conversation. he makes sure that you don’t feel left out or excluded, whispering in your ear and clarifying terms or concepts that you may not understand.

if you wander off from his side to go dance, nanami watches you from the outskirts of the crowd with a soft smile on his face. if you try to drag him to the dance floor, he’ll give in after some half-hearted resistance. nanami could blame it on the alcohol, but he knows that he could never say no to you, even if he was sober.

the alcohol does help, though. it helps loosen him up, and nanami sways to the beat with his hands on your hips and your hands wrapped around his neck. he pulls you much closer than he would if he was sober, leaving barely any space between you as you dance. it’s sensual and leaves you a little breathless by the end of it.

that’s normally around the time that you and nanami decide to leave wherever you are. (ieiri gives you two a knowing look while gojo shamelessly wolf-whistles at you both. nanami pretends that he cannot hear gojo.)

todo aoi

he is such a boisterous drunk.

if you think that todo can be a lot when he’s sober, he is so much worse when he’s drunk.

he one hundred percent does not shut up about takada-chan or you, his significant other, when he’s intoxicated. people hate going out drinking with todo because of that fact. literally, todo nonstop talks about how great takada-chan’s latest single was or how cute you are.

even if people explicitly express their disinterest in the conversation (todo’s “friends” have nothing against you, but if they have to hear another word out of todo’s mouth praising you, they’re going to lose their minds.), todo acts like he didn’t hear them. (to be honest, there’s a chance that todo actually didn’t hear them because he gets so caught up in thinking about takada-chan or you that everything else goes in through one ear and out the other.)

he’ll whip out his phone to show whoever he’s with pictures of you. (he has multiple photo albums dedicated to you.) they desperately try to exit the conversation, but todo will just go on and on with no end in sight. some people (cough, cough mai or momo) will straight up just walk away mid-conservation once they get fed up with todo, but other people (mechamaru or poor miwa) get held hostage in conversation with todo because they don’t know how to leave because todo will keep on dragging them back in.

it gets to the point where mai texts you the address of where they’re at and says “you need to come right now. todo won’t stop talking about you.”

when you arrive to the izakaya, you watch todo blabber with a mix of fondness and exasperation. it’s cute that he talks about you so much, but you can’t help but feel pity for his friends.

once todo realizes you’re there (because one of his friends pointed you out), he beams so brightly that you feel like you’re staring into the sun. you get the urge to squint, but todo scoops you into a tight, almost rib crushing hug before you can.

he starts blabbing about how he missed you so much (even if he just saw you a few hours ago) and how he loves you so much while you struggle to breathe in todo’s crushing embrace.

eventually, he lets you down, allowing you to suck in a desperate breath.

todo is shameless, even more so when he’s intoxicated. he’ll make you sit on his lap while he keeps a tight arm around your waist. it’s a little embarrassing if you dislike heavy pda, but you’ve been with todo long enough that you’ve grown accustomed to it.

he lavishes you in so many compliments that it makes your cheeks heat up a little. todo normally compliments you a lot, but there’s something about him being so drunk and genuine that his words make your heart flutter.

when you reward todo with a kiss to the cheek for his sweet words, he smiles so wide and demands another kiss. and another. and another.

todo’s friends almost regret telling you to come out to meet them because of how sickeningly sweet and in love you guys are.

(they still cannot believe that todo was the first out of all of them to get a partner first.)

when todo gets a little too handsy (because it’s inevitable), you take that as the sign for you to take todo and head out.

todo’s friends breathe a sigh of relief when you leave with a drunk todo trailing after you like a lovesick puppy.

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mywheelieweirdlife · 2 years ago

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I just watched this TikTok about how it's always lowkey terrifying deciding how much of the reality of your chronic illness because of how it may permanently alter peoples perception of you.

And it made me think about exactly how much I don't say.

And like, my best friend knows the most, but also until recently hadn't actually seen me just go down in front of her... and that was online, not in person.

She's seen the 'drunk mermaid' stage where I'm pre or post seizure, have no leg control and no arm control and am just loopy... but never actively been there when I fell or passed out or had a grand mal like seizure.

My abusive ex had... and that's also why a lot of people haven't... but not many people are privy to how hard it is, even my other chronically ill friends.

I don't talk about the loss of bladder control or the ibs like symptoms that come up because my body decided to turn off my digestive system for a week so I don't eat properly for about 3-4 days at a time because I'd rather feel weird about not being physically able to eat than deal with the risk of throwing up because I tried to force myself to 'eat normally'.

And living off multivitamins and supplements and snacks because it's easier for my body than 'normal meals' but constantly feeling like I'm returning to an ED or panicking about going back to being severely underweight because I can't eat normally.

Or that sometimes, I have 'control' of my legs, but the muscles are so tight that there's basically no range of motion and I'm spending hours massaging in muscle relaxant creams crying in pain wishing with every fibre of my being that I get hit by a car and have them cut off because I don't want to deal with the ridiculously stiff rock hard legs that refuse to release for days and have nerve spasms through them. And then I feel guilty for that, but it's the truth.

And the days my rib literally goes 'pop' as it moves out of place and I want to cry and scream and swear and I can't in public because it happens all the gd time so I just cry and laugh it off and I just can't be honest with people about 'this hurts and it's scary' because it's also normal.

I brush off my seizures and my body paralysing and spasming and the tremors and the brain fog and the speech impediment it brought with it and the nerve pain and the digestive issues and the migraines and the insomnia and the anger at the destruction of my body and life and career (the one I previously had).

And I don't brush it off because it's not impossibly hard and stressful and exhausting and a constant battle that consumes every moment of my life… but because if I don't pretend it doesn't hurt, fake a convincing smile and laugh and say 'It's this or die and I have kiddos who need me.' (Which has been my line since I was diagnosed with depression and really really struggling and didn't want to end up in hospital and I would've never expected then that it would turn into this).... I lose even more.

Like if I lose the gentle pity and the honestly really creepy almost faked 'inspiration' speech abled people give me, I get the brushed off, ignored and hated version where people feel 'justified' in the dehumanisation of me and spit on and kick me and cuss me out in public.

Absolute strangers just attacking me because I don't have a 'purpose' that fits their world narrative and expectations of an adult human.

So like, I'm writing a book is my new answer to 'what do you do' when before it was 'recovery or at least stabilising my condition so it's a lot of medical appointments.' Which is nice because people assume a lot of writers get paid while writing (which while wrong works in my favour in not getting verbal harassment or assaulted).

But like, even if I didn't write, even if I never worked a paid job again; I'm a human being with purpose outside of employment and entertainment.

I'm free therapy and life advice to my friends, I'm a late night companion who's always happy for a call even when I'm loopy af (which honestly just makes most of my friends laugh because our humour matches so well), I'm a bundle of joy and random knowledge and a filtering system of good and bad ideas and offering new perspectives.

If provided with accessible housing and community, I would be the best house husband and father because I adore children and want to be a parent and if it wasn't for the laws of my country saying I have to raise a biological child to adulthood first, I would automatically sign up to be foster guardian/parent or adopt queer, neurodivergent, disabled children and provide them with a safe and understanding home where their needs are accommodated and they're welcome and safe and wanted and loved.

I would garden and look after animals and sign and read to kids and help little ones learn and do homework and teach them how to safely interact with animals and insects and the world around them and help them learn about different religions and cultures and how to be polite and respectful and find beauty and wonder everywhere.

And that's just as important as someone who works a traditional 9-5.

I'm important, others who are also disabled are important, we have wants and needs and dreams and humour and laughter and feelings.

We're more than we're able to be and it's not even our fault because they don't want to see us.

Because if I let them see all of me, all my struggles, if I admitted that actually I do need help, a lot more help than I ask for, especially because this house and this community and this world is not set up for me... they would stop seeing me.

They would stop seeing all the beautiful chaotic personality traits and history that I love about myself and that is loved about me because I'm 'too broken' to be fun anymore.

And that's always in the back of my mind and haunts me. And I know I'm not alone with it because the others in the community I follow and who follow me are the same where none of us can say how bad it is because ableds treat us like crap when they do and ignore the fact you're all some of the funniest and most interesting people who from the internet can change my life through the most beautiful and important posts.

We deserve better, we deserve to be seen and heard and loved for everything we are, even and especially the hardest parts.

Also; terfs and devotees DNI (and with full disrespect, fuck off, you're not welcome here and will be blocked and reported on sight after the horrific shit I found last time I had to go on a devotee blocking spree).

#disability #fnd #chronic illness #mine #chronic pain #wheelchair #food mention

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years ago

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Twisted 21 - Nowhere to Run [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood, nightmares.

Word Count: 4300

Summary: Everyone needs a shelter.

For all your life, your sister had always said she hated watching horror movies with you because you would always criticize every character and their choices in the movie.

Who would even stay where they were when they knew there was danger outside, when they knew there was something coming for them?

You had never thought you’d learn the answer first hand;

Because there was nothing else to do, and because that was exactly what you were doing.

Spencer and the rest of his team had sent you away from that basement so that you could get some fresh air and at least attempt to get away from the greeting written on the wall with blood but you knew it was impossible.

There was no running away from that, you had seen it already.

You dangled your legs off the pier back and forth, keeping your gaze on the lake that looked so calm that it was almost like a painting. Funny, you hadn’t ever stopped to enjoy it when you were still a child, you had never actually sat there on the pier to take a breath, wrapped in the safety that would soon disappear.

The footsteps coming closer pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned you head as Spencer sat down next to you.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you croaked out and he ran his fingers through his curls.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

You shook your head, “I’m not sure what home is for me at this point, to be honest with you,” you murmured, “Besides I heard the other agents talking, you guys are going to be pretty busy the moment the rest of your team gets here.”

He heaved a sigh, biting inside his cheek but you kept your gaze on the lake.

“It makes it official right?” you asked, “All these murders…It’s not really about my father’s legacy. It’s about me.”

He stole a look at you, “Y/N…”

“It’s okay professor,” you said, “Trust me, I’m not going to run and scream.”

“The profile is changing constantly with every piece of evidence-“

“Spencer.”

He let out a breath, pursing his lips.

“It is pointing that way so far,” he muttered, “It doesn’t matter though. His legacy or an obsession with you, we’re still going to catch him.”

A silence fell upon you and you cleared your throat, pointing at the woods on the other side of the lake.

“Mina and I used to play the princess and the monster over there,” you said, “I mean… It was either me who was the princess or Mina and I were saving some imaginary princess because Mina wanted to be friends with her.” You used air quotes, “I don’t know whose shock was more fake when she came out, mine or mom’s.”

He let out a small laugh, “Yeah?”

“Mm hm, and right over there,” you pointed at the right, “Linc chased me with a worm in his hand to scare me off, and I ended up falling into the damn lake.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Then Mina pushed him into the lake too and we all got grounded for the whole weekend.” You let out a breath and pointed back at the cabin with your thumb, “And right there, dad showed me how to kill someone for the first time.”

His head shot up, “What?”

You scoffed, “He didn’t tell you that during those sessions?”

Spencer shook his head, frowning.

“He taught me…” you wetted your lips, “How to- how to hunt, that’s what he called it. Predator and prey. After teaching me how to analyze places to find a weapon, he taught me how to find my way in the woods. Just in case. He used to um-“ you cleared your throat, “I don’t really remember all of it, I don’t know how much of it are nightmares or memories, but I remember once he dragged me here in the middle of the night, and he opened the door and there was this man…”

“Petal honey, don’t get so close to him,” your father called out from the kitchen he sharpened the knife as you took a step closer to the man who was gagged and bleeding profusely, still whimpering on the floor. Even in the dim light you could see the look of terror on his face and your heart skipped a beat as you turned your head to look at your father.

“Daddy, he-“ you shifted your weight from one foot to other, “Maybe we can just leave him like this. He’d be dead by the morning.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked before getting closer to you, flipping the knife in his hand and the man started yelling through the gag, but it was muffled. Your father extended his hand, motioning at the huge teddy bear you were hugging closer to your chest and you bit on your lip, then handed him that.

“You can get the teddy back after you answer 3 questions right, you know the rules,” he told you, “Alright, if I wanted him to die quickly, where would I stab?”

“Jugular.”

“Where’s the jugular?”

You pointed at the man’s neck, “There.”

“Good. What if I wanted him to suffer for hours with just one stab wound?”

You paused and scrunched up your nose, forcing your mind for the information before you looked up at him.

“In the stomach,” you said, “Stomach acid hurts.”

He thought for a second, then handed you the teddy back.

“Good job honey,” he said and walked to the man with the knife in his hand.

“I couldn’t do anything,” you pressed your lips together, “For hours and hours he tortured him and when we got back home, I went to bed and the next morning I wouldn’t stop shivering, I kept throwing up and my mom thought I had the flu so we ended up not coming to the cabin that weekend. I know how he—” you clicked your tongue, “I know how he pretends to be a normal guy. During those interviews, that documentary, even in those sessions with you he keeps pretending like he’s normal, but I know him. I know the real monster and I…” you sniffled and cleared your throat, “Profiler or not, you have no idea what he’s capable of. He put me through actual hell, Spencer. No wonder I can’t remember half of this shit, I think I’d lose my mind if I did.”

“Y/N…”

“I didn’t stop him.”

He frowned, “How old were you?”

“Seven.”

“You couldn’t have stopped him even if you wanted to,” Spencer told you, “You were a child.”

“I could’ve told someone,” you murmured, looking at the lake, “I could’ve done something.”

“You were a child,” he repeated, “Children trust their parents, okay? You know it as well as I do that he’s a master at manipulation. Whatever he has done, it’s not your fault.”

“I doubt those bodies in the basement would agree with you,” you managed to say and let out a humorless chuckle, “Besides, I’m my father’s daughter, remember? You told me so yourself.”

The impact of your words would’ve been surprising if you weren’t so distracted by your own misery. He pulled back as if you had just slapped him, his hazel eyes searching your face and he swallowed thickly, opening and closing his mouth like he was at loss for words.

“I didn’t mean—” he paused, shaking his head “Y/N, that wasn’t the truth.”

You grabbed the cigarette out of your purse and lit it, dangling your legs back and forth over the pier.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged your shoulders, “You’re not the first person to think that, and weirdly enough, you’re not the first ex to think that either-“

“That’s not what I think,” he insisted, “Nothing about you even suggests that you’re anything like him, behavior or psychological wise. I just wanted to—“ he hesitated for a moment, his jaw clenching, “Hurt you back.”

You tried to smile, still keeping your gaze on the lake as you exhaled the smoke.

“Congratulations professor, you’re pretty good at that.”

A silence fell upon you both as you twirled the cigarette between your fingers.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was so gentle that you turned your head to look at him, “I really am. I never should’ve hit below the belt, not like that.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Y/N.”

“No really,” you insisted, “I don’t want to talk about that anymore, I’m just so—“ you closed your eyes for a moment “God, I’m just so tired Spencer. You have no idea how tired I am.”

“I know.”

“And it just doesn’t end,” you murmured and opened your eyes, “Right? I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months now, and everything is getting so out of my control.”

“It will end soon.”

“But we don’t know that,” you insisted as almost a hysterical laugh escaped from your lips, “Do you want to hear the worst part? I don’t think this feeling will ever go away. At this point, I don’t even remember how it feels like not to be afraid.”

He heaved a sigh, then looked over his shoulder when Luke approached you two.

“Sorry guys,” he said, shifting his weight, “But um- Reid, we need you in there.”

“Can’t someone else-“

“Don’t,” you shook your head as you stood up and dusted off your jeans, “Seriously. Besides, the sooner you catch this guy, the sooner…I don’t know, the sooner things go back to normal, whatever that means.”

“You can’t just drive home like this.”

“I’ll drive her,” Luke said, making you turn your head,

“Dude, aren’t you needed here too?”

“I’m going to go back to help out Rossi,” he said, “Not all of the team has to be here, I mean-“ he nodded at Spencer, “We’ve got our genius here, he’s got it covered. I can take the babysitting duty.”

“No pastries for you anymore.”

“I would like to rephrase my statement,” he said quickly, making you smile before you shrugged your shoulders.

“Alright then, let’s go.”

“Y/N-“ Spencer started but you shot him a look.

“I’m fine,” you said, “Go do your Sherlock stuff, professor. Solve the case so that I can start planning weddings again instead of hanging around creepy cabins. I’m just gonna go home and get drunk, so you’ll probably get a voicemail or two from me, just saying.”

“Can’t wait,” Spencer smiled softly and you followed Luke to your car, then handed him the keys and got in the passenger seat. He started the car and you slipped a little in the seat, leaning your knees on the dash.

“How are you holding up?” Luke asked you and you heaved a sigh.

“I feel like I’m in a horror movie to be honest with you,” you muttered, “Who the fuck writes on a wall with blood, I mean like who are you, Michael Myers?”

“I didn’t mean the case,” he stole a look at you and you raised your brows.

“Ah, that,” you said, “Well, I don’t have a bff that sets me up with people in night clubs, so there’s that.”

He hissed in a breath, “Garcia told you.”

“Mm hm,” you looked out of the window, “No hard feelings, don’t worry. I dated lots of frat boys back when I was in college, so I’m very familiar with the bro code.”

“You dated frat boys?” he made a face and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Yeah I started from the bottom and worked my way up to the genius back there.”

He chuckled, “I take it you still haven’t told him you threatened a serial killer because he happened to threaten him?”

“I would’ve done the same for anyone.”

“Bullshit.”

Your jaw dropped, “I let you drive my car and this is the thanks I get, Alvez?”

“Okay trust fund baby, I’m driving you home, you’re not doing me a favor.”

You let out a small laugh, “Eh, I’m not that bad.”

“Your sister threatened a whole police department using lawyers.”

“They had it coming,” you said and he cleared his throat.

“If it makes you feel any better, it was an actual fiasco.”

Your head shot up and you turned to him, “Hm?”

“That whole thing with Reid. He’s not over you.”

“He will be,” you murmured, “Eventually.”

“Do you want to hear why it was a fiasco?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s an exaggeration-“

“He spent the whole night talking about you,” he cut you off and your jaw dropped, “Yeah. More like, she asked him about his job and he mentioned the case, then talked about you and how you couldn’t be the killer for hours. For a second, I thought he’d go up to the DJ booth and start broadcasting from there.”

You could feel the warmth spreading through you, but you nibbled on your lip, trying to ignore it.

“I really hurt him Luke.”

He stole a look at you from the corner of his eye.

“I know,” he said, “That’s pretty clear. I don’t know which one is worse, that you hurt him or that it doesn’t seem to change anything on his part.”

You could feel the burning in your eyes but you slipped a little in your seat and kept your eyes on the road.

“Yeah,” you murmured, “I don’t know which one is worse either.”

***

The worst thing about nightmares?

There was no escape from them, and no amount of booze could make them go away.

You woke up to your own scream and leaped out of the bed so fast that you got caught in your sheets and fell on your face, your ears ringing. You could feel the bile burning your throat, so you covered your mouth and rushed to the bathroom to throw up into the toilet, barely aware of the sobs rocking your body. You wiped at your mouth and stood up on shaky legs, then brushed your teeth, still breathing hard.

You were there again, in that graveyard with your father, but this time you couldn’t brush it off as just a nightmare.

It was way too detailed, way too familiar to be a nightmare.

You wiped at your forehead and washed your face with ice cold water, desperate for some sort of a relief and leaned over the sink, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Fuck this shit,” you rasped out to yourself before turning the tap off and raised your glances to look in the mirror.

Well.

You looked exactly like how you felt.

You still didn’t trust your legs but still managed to leave the bathroom, Making your way to your bedroom was more than enough to give you goosebumps, but you snatched your phone off the bedside table. You almost dropped it because of how badly you were trembling with fear, but managed to hold it tighter, found his name in the contacts and took the phone to your ear.

He answered immediately.

“Hello?”

“Spencer, hi,” you said, still taking deep breaths, “I um… I had this- this nightmare and I- I need to talk to you. Can we meet somewhere?”

He hesitated for a moment, “Are you okay? Why are you breathing so fast?”

“Not a panic attack,” you wiped at your nose, “Not yet anyway.”

“Okay, I’m still coming over-“

“No!” you cut him off, then licked your lips, “No I can’t…. I can’t stay here right now, I need to get out of here. Can we please meet somewhere or-or-“

“How about my place?” he asked and you heard the unmistakable clinking of keys, “You can’t drive like that, I’ll come and pick you up, wait there-“

“No I’ll just take a taxi.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll take a taxi, just send me the location,” you told him and hung up, quickly got dressed, got into your coat, then went downstairs when your taxi arrived. You still felt like you could throw up again, but the cool air coming from the open car window helped as the driver started the car after you gave him the location.

There was a beauty in the city at night, especially in chilly nights like these. The small raindrops falling down your face offered some kind of a small comfort while you tried your hardest to ignore the images flashing through your mind, taking a deep breath, letting the cold air fill your lungs. You leaned your head to the open window, closing your eyes and letting the noise of the city drag you out of your own mind.

By the time the taxi pulled over, you were almost lost in your thoughts and only when the driver let you know that you were there you opened your eyes. You paid him, and looked up at the building before making your way inside.

It was almost strange how you hadn’t seen his apartment when you two were dating, but now here you were.

After the break up. At three in the morning.

You wiped at your nose and fixed your hair before you knocked on the door and tried to control your breathing, but that felt way too difficult. As soon as he opened the door, everything you had planned to tell him in your head disappeared and you looked up at him in complete silence for a couple of seconds, you had almost forgotten how he looked when he wasn’t in his work clothes. A warmth filled you, the urge to rush into his arms taking over you but you managed to fight the urge and stepped into the apartment, desperately searching for the right words.

“I had that nightmare, again.” You turned to him as soon as you entered the living room, stumbling over your words, “That graveyard nightmare, but Spencer I think it wasn’t just a dream, I think you were right and it was a memory and there was someone else but I can’t see a face and—“

“Y/N.”

“And I think we were there because of me because it all just connected, we were at that graveyard and he was actually digging a grave and I can remember the face of the victim but not—“

“Sweetheart, breathe.” he approached you in three long steps and his warm hands cupped your cheek so that he could look at you better, “I’m here, I’m listening, okay? Just breathe and tell me. Slowly.”

You swallowed thickly, looking up at him.

“I had that nightmare again,” you managed to say, “But I think that’s a memory.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “How?”

“Because at the graveyard, dad told me something,” you said, “He was- he was digging a grave, and he said, Remember, you’re not supposed to make them bleed if you can’t kill them. And I remembered when that happened, back at the cabin, during the training, I… I untied one of the victims and pretended like he got out of them somehow.”

His hand slipped a little so that he could brush his fingers over your neck, almost soothing you.

“It didn’t work,” you shook your head, “As soon as he got out of the cabin, dad hunted him down and dragged him back into the cabin, he had lost way too much blood to make a run for it. Spencer, that’s a memory, not just a nightmare.”

“There was another person with you? At the graveyard?”

“He took the victim to the graveyard later on, but yes. There was someone, I just…I can’t remember who,” you heaved a shaky breath, “You need to tell the team-“

“We’re already checking the graveyards within the driving distance to the cabin, I told them today.”

You blinked a couple of times, “Did you?”

“Yeah,” he said and his eyes searched your face, “You’re shaking.”

You tried to smile and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, running your thumb over his warm skin, “It’s cold out there.”

You were lying, he knew you were lying and you knew that he knew, but neither of you commented on that. He hesitated for a moment before he pulled you closer to him, letting you bury your face into his chest as he held you tight and you inhaled his scent, closing your eyes.

He was right earlier. This was an addiction.

“Were you sleeping?” you muttered into his chest before you pulled back to look up at him. He scoffed and shook his head.

“No,” he said, “I was working on the case.”

“You really need to sleep.”

“It’s ironic to hear that from you,” he pointed out and that made a smile warm your face.

“Ah but I did sleep,” you said, “I just woke up because of the nightmares. It still counts as sleep.”

“I doubt that,” he said and you turned your head before you started walking around the room.

Spencer’s apartment was more or less what you imagined, to be honest. Contrary to yours, it was darker and obviously older. The wooden desk was covered in papers and books, there was a library by the corner of the room almost stacked to the brim, and overall it reminded you so much of him that just being in his apartment made you feel-

Safer. Better. Calmer.

“Lovely place,” you commented as you approached the library to drag your fingertips over the cracked and old spines of the books and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shift his weight.

“Yeah it’s not- it’s not like yours but I like it.”

“Not like mine?” you looked over your shoulder and he cleared his throat.

“Mm hm.”

“I like it better than mine,” you said and he frowned,

“Why?”

“It looks like someone is actually living here,” you motioned around and he tilted his head.

“Is that a good thing?”

“It is,” you said, “I mean I can see….you in here. I can’t see any part of me in my apartment.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “My mom has this person who designs her houses, she designed my apartment too. It’s pretty but it’s just not me I guess. It’s kind of sad when you think about it.”

He hummed, his eyes watching your every move and you pulled a book from the shelf, holding it up so that he could see the title.

“You don’t strike me as a Petrarch guy,” you tilted your head, “Are you?”

He raised his brows and stole a look at the book in your hand.

“I do not pray, since there is no purpose, that my heart should ever burn less fiercely, but only that she might share part of the fire.” he recited and your jaw dropped before you pouted.

“I hate bluffing with you,” you commented, making him chuckle and you stifled a yawn while turning the book in your hands.

“You can’t work for the whole night if you have a guest.” you gestured at the wooden table and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I won’t if my guest promises she’ll try to sleep.”

“I don’t like this deal.”

“That’s the deal you’re getting,” he said and you clicked your tongue, then walked to the center of the room and sat down on the floor before you lied down.

“I have a bed, you know.”

“I don’t want to get comfortable and fall asleep yet. I want to enjoy this more.”

“Enjoy what? Lying on the floor?”

You shook your head and kept your gaze on the ceiling, the dim light of the apartment and lights from the outside creating shadows there.

“I don’t have that…mind numbing fear right now,” you managed to say “I want to make it last. It’ll come back when I wake up tomorrow, trust me.”

He looked like he wanted to argue with you, then heaved a sigh and sat down on the floor as well, leaning his back to the leather armchair. You tossed him the book and he caught it mid-air, shooting you a quizzical look.

“Read me your favorite,” you said and he smiled slightly.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’ll help me get out of my head, and it might help you….ignore the fact that your night club date was terrible, apparently.”

He raised his brows, “Luke told you?”

You tried to stop your smirk, but it was impossible,

“Yeah he did,” you said and bit inside your cheek for a moment, “Thank you though.”

“For what?”

“For believing in me.”

His gaze on you was gentle, “I wish you would believe in yourself too,” he told you, “You’re not what he tried to turn you into.”

You dragged the tip of your tongue over your lip.

“Spencer?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we should move on?”

He took a deep breath, his brows furrowed in thought.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “We probably should. But do I think we can move on? I don’t think so.”

You nodded slowly, that burning in your eyes getting even worse as he turned the pages until he found what he was looking for, then cleared his throat and started reading.

“I have offered you my heart a thousand times

O my sweet warrior, only to make peace

with your lovely eyes: but it does not please you

with your noble mind, to stoop so low.”

You smiled to yourself, painfully aware of why he picked that one, then closed your eyes, his voice washing over you.

“And if some other lady has hope of it,

she lives in powerless, deceiving hope:

and it can never be what it was to me,

since I too disdain what does not please you.”

Chapter 22

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer #reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader #twisted

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dayseternal-blog · 3 years ago

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Hi days! I know you're the best person to go to for some NH fic recommendations. Can you share with us really angsty NH fics? I've read White Lillies, that amount of angst is revitalizing I LOVE IT!!! big thanks!!!

HELLO

For how fluffy NaruHina is, there SURE ARE A LOT of shippers who LOVE NARUHINA ANGST. I’ve been asked for angst recs far more than any other type????

I will now compile every angst fic rec I’ve ever made into one long list. (folks can see if there’s anything I’ve missed 🤓)

NARUHINA ANGST

“A Place In The Sun” by ihaveastorminme - Rated M for smut and depictions of violence, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto realizes that he’s not enough to love her. He’s not enough to save her, either.

“A Fate Worse than Death” by Caelestia - Rated M for smut, ABO Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Naruto, improperly socialized and traumatized as a child, rejects his inner Alpha, which has devastating consequences on his family and marriage. “A Risky Bet” is its fluffier follow-up.

“Girl No 10″ by meeiwen - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto makes a mistake with a dancer one drunk night. Years later when he meets her again, he begins realizing his perfect life is a lie, but he’s too late to fix it. Angst if you want to know what dying feels like warning.

“if this is love (why does it hurt?)” by ClairvoyantDreamer1011 - Rated M, Friends with benefits Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata knew many things about Naruto Uzumaki. She knew that his heated glances meant ‘I want you’; that lingering touches whispered 'please’, and that the sight of his back to her screamed 'leave’. But she couldn’t tell you what they were to each other for the life of her.

“If You Said You Loved Me” by destiny’s sweet melody - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Naruto begins to realize he took her feelings for granted and now he’s too late.

“The Ring that Binds” by softwind - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto and Hinata are married. So why is Naruto calling “Sakura” in his sleep?

“Why would innocent little Hinata be out dressed like that?” (One-shot) and its follow-up “On Any Given Day” (Long One-Shot) by @utsus - Rated T, Canon-Divergent. Hinata tries to move on from Naruto, right when he realizes he wants to keep her.

“For the Future” by @utsus - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata understands this better than anyone else. Naruto is easy to love. (I actually just hate the ending a lot. That’s what puts this on the list).

“Gilded Butterflies” by Kid Crisis - Rated M for depictions of violence, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Tenshi, beautiful prostitute of the Villa, realized from a very young age that people seem to do nothing but empty her, and not even Naruto seems capable of convincing her otherwise.

“Serenity Prayer” by @katarinahime - Rated M for smut, substance abuse, PTSD, and depictions of domestic violence and non-con, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. When their fairytale endings smash to ugly pieces, Hinata and Naruto help put each other back together.

“Common Side Effects” (Naruto’s POV) by @katarinahime & “Medicated” (Hinata’s POV) by @szajnie - Rated E for smut, substance abuse, mental illness, and depictions of violence, self-harm, and attempted suicide, Crime/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto and Hinata, in a struggling relationship, must confront the pain inside before they can love each other.

“In Another Life” by theGeneralissimo - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. In which Naruto listens to his mother’s advice and marries a girl like her. And lives to regret it.

“Mistake” by Cherry1315 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto falls apart, and, unfortunately, Hinata has to pick up the pieces.

“Until the Day I Love” by BluBlooThalassophile - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Everyone is recovering from the war.

“Hidden From Sunlight” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. How different could Naruto’s life be when the girl that seemed 'barely around’ is truly hardly around at all?

“Powerless” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated M for depictions of violence and character death, Mystery/Crime High School/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. His family’s past can’t be taken at face-value, and it comes clawing back to hurt him in ways that are out of his control. DELETED FIC.

“21 Days” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated E includes dub-con, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Anonymous internet friends decide to meet up IRL and give each other their first times.

“April - Too Late/Missed Opportunities” from “Still Falling for You” by @chloelapomme - Rated T, College/Modern AU, One-shot. After her 3 years away for college, Naruto decides to confess.

“June - Honor/Sacrifice” from “Still Falling for You” by @chloelapomme - Rated T, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto marries Hinata, the girl of his dreams. If only she loved him back.

“you totally almost killed me that one time (it’s okay I still love you)” by @itachiboutit - Rated G, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto, a promising baseball player, returns to Konoha Prep, and, without so much as even a “long time no see,” hits a ball into Hinata’s face. (This isn’t really angsty…but I get really upset in Ch. 4 and cry a lot every time.)

“Because I Love You” aka “Arranged Marriage AU Take 2″ (Same fic) by @magmawrites - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. A canon divergent fic in which The Last never happened and Hinata Hyuga was promised to another.

“Asylum AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites - Rated M, Modern AU, One-shot. What’s to say what’s real and what isn’t? The only thing that’s valid and true in all universes is their love for one another.

“Dreaming of AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites - Rated M for implied suicide, Modern AU, One-shot. Naruto dreams of her. He grows to love her. Dreams are nice. Too bad reality is a nightmare. (Most likely a continuation of the Asylum AU.)

“Memory Loss AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites - Rated M, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. I LOVE YOU. Will I ever hear those words from your lips again?

“The Path We Walk” by @tenney-shoes - Rated T, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. With his memory of the past five years missing, Naruto never expected to be married to Hinata, and now he must navigate through the maze that is their life together with no memory of how he got there.

“Easier For Me” by @tenney-shoes - Rated T, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, Two-shot, Complete. How will Hinata handle waking up with no memory of how she got there?

“My Escape” by @marimare-writes - Rated T, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto wakes up from a coma with no recollection of life after graduating the Academy. Hinata, anxious and with a secret that will change both of their lives, struggles with what to do.

“Consolation Prize: Through Her Distorted Mirror” by mysterious intentions - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Her love is taken lightly, as if her heart could change so easily.

“Good Luck” By LovelyLori - Rated T, Flowers/Ballet AU, Two-Shot, Complete. A Japanese ballet company arrives in Naruto’s town. Can love transcend language barriers? (I spent HOURS looking for this one, it totally breaks my heart.)

“On the outside looking in” by @char-lotteral - Rated E for smut, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto’s in love with his best friend’s girlfriend fiancee. And he’s not moving on.

“Sincerely, Uzumaki Naruto” by @bkgsbby - Rated T, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. After his wife leaves him a week after giving birth to their son, Naruto moves back to Konoha. He adjusts to life as a single father, with the help of his friends and surprisingly, his old crush.

“Road to Redemption” by averagejane497 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto’s made a lot of mistakes in his life, especially concerning the women he loves. Maybe this time he can get it right.

“You’re the One” by AnimeloverNUMBA100 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. After 4 desperate years, Hinata finally asked Naruto out. He decides to give her a chance, but his feelings for Sakura has never faded. Hinata is slowly losing hope as time goes on…and she soon chooses to leave him.

Untitled by @randomprose - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Prompt: Hinata finds out that Naruto told Minato that Sakura is his girlfriend.

“Jitters” by ncfan - Rated T, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. He has her heart but he doesn’t even know it.

“The Red Umbrella” by ncfan - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. As the rain hits her, Hinata thinks about what she doesn’t have, and what she’ll never have now.

“Duplicity” by GoldKing - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Uzumaki Sakura wants to know why Hinata’s children are blond.

“My Favorite Night” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata harbors deeper feelings for Naruto after three years of being his roommate. When he starts dating Sakura, Hinata decides it’s in her heart’s best interest to turn the other way, and leaves Naruto for good with a heart-breaking secret in tow.

“The Loving Type” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A few years have passed since the Fourth Shinobi War, in which…Rookie Nine steadily advances in rank. Naruto gets engaged. Hinata leaves Konoha. And Kakashi schemes for days.

“Blurred Lines” by @vegebulsoup - Rated E, Police / Cops and Robbers Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Detective Naruto Uzumaki is having a hard time staying focused at work due to an elusive, dark-haired beauty. (Starts off fun and smutty, grows angsty).

“I want you to cry” and its sequel “Road of Tears” by Devahhole - Rated E for graphic murder, dub-con/non-con, and smut, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A sociopath blinded by revenge runs into his greatest opponent.

“Absolute” by @ssa25 - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. She was his kind, shy and innocent friend. Until she wasn’t. He was her pure, beautiful and unrequited love. Until he wasn’t.

I’m very glad that you enjoyed my “White Lilies” fic!! Here’s everything I could think of for you to cry or stress out over.

SAD READING 😢

#anon #naruhina fanfic recs #naruhina angst

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archons-maid · 3 years ago

Text

Genshin Vampire Headcanons

Characters: Xiao, Kaeya, Venti, Albedo, Tartaglia ( + Diluc as Hunter)

Warnings: mentions of blood, blood- drinking, vampires, murder, a form of self harm (Albedo only)

A/N poorly written cause the sudden idea stroke me down and I had to write it before it dies + English isn’t my first language

Xiao

poor boy if he’s a vampire he will only distance himself more

drank human blood in the past

hates himself for it

he would made hell break loose before he gets near an injured human

only interacts with adepti and non human creatures

uses his additional strength to protect the people of liyue

so much guilt for his desire to drink blood

probably hates his creator

would try to kill him

would kill different vampires that abuse their powers to get blood

if he does get romantically involved with you ( through special circumstances) he’d be super careful

he’d never manipulate your memories

but when he does bite you he’d never forgive himself

abandons you to protect you

“You are in danger as long as I’m near”

but will keep an eye on you from the distance

Kaeya

Oh Boy

always makes vague jokes

“It’s not like I bite...hard”

“Walking around this late at night? Someone might think you are just waiting to get eaten”

Only Jean and Varka (+ Diluc) know about his condition

If he’s thirsty he will charm a pretty citizen, make out and even has the audacity to ask if he can take a bite

actually can manage his thirst quite well

of course they say yes

he’d make them forget after

when he takes interest in you he’ll surely follow you around

always teasing and flirting

if he’s confident enough he might just take a bite without deleting your memories

you are friends friends with Diluc? He’d make sure to always warn you about Kaeya

consumes wine like it’s water without getting drunk

Venti

this motherfucker does what he wants <3

drinks human blood even without permission

never kills though

always makes them forget

regularly drinks from his friends without their knowledge

immediately stops when they show any signs of too much blood loss

also a little guilty

but thinks it’s alright as long as no one gets seriously hurt

when you get close to him you realise something is off

he won’t tell you though

cold skin? the winds are always cold and refreshing

when he catches feelings he’ll try to stop drinking for your sake

fails pretty miserable

never drinks from you

unless you wish for it

then he’ll praise your blood and make fun of your weird kinks

doesn’t get too involved with other vampires

technically could survive a few months without drinking blood, but would never try unless you ask him

Albedo

this boy is a genius

created artificial blood to gain control over his thirst

it’s super bitter and yikes

but he’s a good boy and doesn’t drink from humans (...often)

probably experimented on himself

how fast is the regeneration? How many wounds can he heal at the same time?

willing to injure himself to test out

as isolated as he is in the moment

often in his lab

always make sure that Sucrose and Klee won’t notice his experiments or thirst for blood

he won’t meet either of them when he’s thirsty

when he meets you his thirst definitely increases

craves real blood for the first time and drinks three bottles of his artificial one

if you’re not that close, he’d collect blood from you when there’s a possibility

perhaps when you’re injured after a battle

and he tends to your wounds <3

researches the hell out of your blood

no results though

he’s frustrated

will talk a lot to you to figure out if there’s something special in your family history

as soon as you two get romantic he‘ll stop

kinda accepts that there may be no reason at all

he’s unusually touchy with you

when he’s thirsty and you just happen to be there..-

he‘ll make out with you and take a bite

depending on the reaction he‘ll stop

tries to comfort you and explains himself

if you were crying he‘ll curse himself and tell you how sorry he is

Tartaglia

there🌿was✨a🐈cat🐱that🍄really🌳was🐚gone🌬

this handsome fatui doesn’t really care if he kills someone

all the fatui know of his blood thirst

when he’s thirsty he’ll go out at night and search for a prey

mercilessly drinks until he’s full

dead? oops my bad

won’t delete memories if they survive

when he’s on a mission and isn’t allowed to raise attention

he will drink fatui blood

kills only rarely then

also can manage his blood thirst actually quite well

just chooses not to

doesn’t really drink blood after a fight

he thinks his opponents deserve a little more respect

if you two get along quite well, he’ll instantly tell you about his condition

won’t blame you if you leave

is even more fascinated by you if you stay

“so you’re not even a little bit scared? How foolish of you”

starts making a lot of jokes about biting you

“What? You think I won’t do it? Then let me prove you wrong.”

secretly enjoys drinking from you

Diluc

as soon as he learns of vampires he’ll hunt them down

they are a danger to Mondstadt

always investigates people that talk of memory loss

tries to find an effective weapon

(even though burning them to ashes always works)

always carries a notebook where he writes everything down to protect his memories

absolutely loathes vampires

if Kaeya’s also a vampire and he finds out he’ll be angry

angry that he can’t just kill him

although he’s drinking blood

instead kills a lot wild vampires whenever he’s mad at Kaeya or himself

tries to make Kaeya promise that he won’t drink without permission

maybe he accepts because the challenge is intriguing

when he agrees Diluc is more at ease

you two start dating?

He’ll warn you of every vampire suspect that he has

almost tries to forbid you from wandering at night

“I just want to keep you safe”

especially warns you of a certain cavalry captain

you try to convince him to stop?

he’ll think you have been manipulated

always makes sure to know where you are at night

kinda possessive and dislikes this side of him

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #xiao #kaeya #albedo #Childe #tartaglia #diluc #vampire headcanons #vampire #venti #archons-maid strikes again #thanks for reading

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bemused-writer · 4 years ago

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VNC Mémoire 50 Analysis

This chapter went down very differently from how I'd envisioned. XD My main error was that I forgot that introducing Vanitas into a situation doesn't necessarily improve it and this chapter really drove that home. I got used to "Gévaudan Vanitas" but what we're dealing with is "Bal Masqué Vanitas," someone who is more unhinged than he wants to let on. I mean, I think it's safe to say Vanitas efficiently steered things into a ditch this chapter. Let's take a look as to a possible why and how.

The first thing I want to address is how the transition from Vanitas's attitude in chapter 46 compared to chapter 50 is pretty severe in terms of how he's acting towards Noé and at first seems, uh, completely insane but it's actually pretty consistent with how Vanitas has been in general.

Vanitas: Noé, stop! Don't go near him. Mikhail is--!

His reaction towards Misha actually is pretty consistent all things considered. The very mention of Misha filled him with fear in the catacombs arc and it does so here as well. We also see Vanitas demonstrate he is afraid of what might happen to Noé should he encounter him. And that thread is continued at the very start of this chapter.

We're absolutely dealing with subtleties here, but there are three things I think we can take from this exchange:

1) Vanitas is worried about Noé, but he doesn't want to be too demonstrative about it

2) He's trying very hard to hide the fact Misha unnerves him

3) Misha can read Vanitas easily

That last bit is important. Misha knew Vanitas for a couple years while they traveled with VotBM, so he knows his ticks. In particular, he knows what Vanitas is worried about. "I only made him drink my blood." The implication is that he could have done something worse and he knows Vanitas was worried about that in particular. I think it's safe to say the worse option was that Misha had corrupted Noé's name. With that concern thwarted, Vanitas's main concern regarding Noé has probably already been alleviated, which may explain why the continuation of the conversation is actually pretty calm for a moment.

In the previous two images, Vanitas is panicked or suspicious bordering on angry. In this one we see something closer to compassion and understanding. I think if the conversation had simply remained on the subject of Misha not remembering what happened to VotBM we would have gotten a very different chapter. At the very least, I think Vanitas would have focused on handling Misha in a calmer manner. I don't know if he would have explained things properly, but I think the overall vibe would be different. I think that a loss of memory is something Vanitas would sympathize with considering how protective he is of his own memories and that's probably why we got this surprisingly quiet scene with the two.

Such a thing could not last, however. Misha shook things up by revealing that yes, he thought he was dead, but he was brought back by a kind individual. Furthermore, this kind individual can bring back VotBM, too! As if that isn't enough, he calls Vanitas's entire goal in life, vengeance, silly. It's basically the perfect recipe to make Vanitas go ballistic and it worked immediately.

Okay, so in my last meta I said it's basically confirmed that Vanitas killed VotBM. I think this absolutely confirms he killed her if there was any remaining doubt. Furthermore, he talks about how he's currently working to erase her existence entirely, which is not a small statement. It could be symbolic as he is curing vampires, something she would have hated and likely going against her philosophy in some way. He is "erasing" her existence by defying her values.

He could also mean it very literally. VotBM is blamed for malnomen after all, which is the very thing Vanitas is trying to cure. If she did create malnomen and if she even had something to do with Charlatan then yes, Vanitas is very actively trying to erase her entire existence from this world.

You know, I'm sure this attempt at erasing her could lend itself well to his own self-hatred. If he wants to erase her (literally or metaphorically) then having her mark on him must be torture.

As a side note, we see Vanitas shooting with a gun in this chapter. He doesn't own a gun (weirdly) and as such I think it's likely Dante's. Dante was pretty drunk at the restaurant they were at, so he was in no position to come along, I guess. XD But Vanitas knew he would need extra protection and borrowed it all the same. Still, even Misha comments it's odd for him to use one, which makes me wonder why. Actually, the more I think about it, the stranger it is for Vanitas to go about without a gun. Sure, he has daggers and other skills, but he's in constant danger and some range probably wouldn't hurt.

Regardless, he brought the gun to fight Misha specifically I expect, which means he doesn't want to get close to him. Questions abound as to why. I do not have an actual theory about this one just yet.

At this point in the chapter, I think Vanitas had completely forgotten about Noé until he reinserted himself into the situation. After all, he needs to rescue Dominique and Vanitas is shooting at the person who has complete control over her right this minute. Definitely a recipe for disaster.

Misha gives Noé 15 minutes to find some way to drink Vanitas's blood and reminds him pulling any tricks won't work.

And this is where our communication disaster begins this chapter. Vanitas wants to handle everything on his own without interference. Noé can't allow that because he needs to protect Dominique and, also, Noé is already involved. He can't not be involved at this point no matter what Vanitas wants.

Rather than attempt any kind of sympathetic response or understanding, Vanitas goes right for the throat.

This is around where I think we need to address the elephant in the room: Vanitas and Dominique's relationship with each other. The second they met one another they couldn't stand each other.

This is the first time they really talk to one another and it's a mess. Dominique is understandably suspicious of this random human using her friend to help him cure curse bearers. She even states later on that she thinks he's using Noé for his abilities. As for Vanitas, he's simply being incredibly petty and arguably possessive to boot. He just doesn't like her getting in the way of him and Noé.

Then there's all this:

So, Vanitas knows these two are very close and overheard them as they shared an intimate moment together and even seems to have some kind of opinion on it, though it's hard to say what it is. He first seems surprised, then his expression becomes the neutral, unreadable one above. I kind of think his ultimate opinion about the whole thing is negative judging by his infamous insult to Dominique later on.

Look, Vanitas is a raging misogynist, but I think he takes special issue with Dominique. We can see with Jeanne that he actually does want to help her and holds some measure of affection for her (and now believes himself to be in love with her). He's been utterly neutral to all the other women in the series as well, such as Amelia. But Dominique? There is absolutely no love lost there and all of the above isn't even getting into one of his primary issues with her: she claimed he might worship VotBM.

Of course, Vanitas seems to get most angry when people approach the truth because there's also this scene:

I will admit that it's a little unclear who Vanitas is saying he never really hated in this scene. The official translation went with "Lou" but it could very well be "Lu" the beginning of "Luna" who was confirmed as VotBM in this very chapter, so... He hates VotBM but also loves her. That would seem about in line with the complete mess that is our current Vanitas.

So how does all this tie in with chapter 50? Well, Vanitas has a lot of issues with women, especially relationships with women and most of those likely stem from VotBM with a side dish of his being the cause of his mother's death while constantly being compared to her visually. Furthermore, he really doesn't like Dominique.

With all this in mind, is it any real surprise he refuses to help her? Because it wouldn't be that hard to. He has The Book of Vanitas and he knows what Misha wants. He could either do something to undo Misha's curse on her or he could tell Misha the information he wants to know. Furthermore, he could just make something up to tell Misha! His memories about that day are practically nonexistent after all!

But he doesn't. Some of that is, I'm sure, because he's not thinking very clearly, but some of it is definitely out of spite. Vanitas doesn't like that Noé has an attachment to Dominique. He believes it makes Noé weak. It's why Vanitas can't stand his own interest in Jeanne or Jeanne's attachment to Luca or any relationship in general. He firmly believes attachments make someone weak and I'm sure he believes his own attachment to Noé makes him weak. It's why he must do his very best to stomp it out this chapter. He must deny his own attachment to Noé, remove Noé's attachment to Dominique, and kill Misha to restore his own warped idea of order.

Vanitas is, needless to say, a human disaster.

Even with all this, there are still little glimmers of Vanitas's better side. He seems genuinely shocked and disturbed when he first hears about what happened to Louis, but then Misha continues with how it affected Dominique and he's right back to refuting the whole thing. We also get this interesting tidbit:

Talk about a loaded statement and some insight into how Vanitas views relationships with women! I have very little doubt he's thinking of VotBM right now. He says that by killing Dominique, Noé will be "free" in the way he is. Vanitas saw his relationship with VotBM (whatever kind it may have been) as a weakness and a curse and he cannot fathom that Noé's relationship with Dominique isn't somehow the same. From his perspective, it's just not possible for them to have a genuinely good thing going. He believes Dominique is too protective of Noé and is holding him back and that, clearly, killing her would be doing Noé a favor.

Vanitas's expression here reminds me of a key moment during the catacombs arc:

Here he was angry at Noé for showing compassion to chasseurs and for "holding himself back." He then tells him to get out of his sight (something he also pulled before) and calls him a slur, finally provoking a reaction.

That's not terribly dissimilar to what's happening now. Vanitas is angry at Noé for showing compassion to someone he coudln't care less about, he's "holding himself back" (as well as Vanitas), and Vanitas says the cruelest thing he can, finally provoking a reaction.

Just like in the catacombs, he got a much stronger reaction than he was betting on. I think it both cases, Vanitas was just saying whatever first came to his mind without thinking about repercussions (just like in the Bal Masqué... there's a theme here) and therein lies the second problem he has: he doesn't believe Noé will ever retaliate against him even though he has no real reason to believe that. He sees Noé as kind and mistakenly assumes this translates to him never reacting to Vanitas's cruelty. Probably because it takes a lot to rouse genuine anger out of Noé, but still. That's a serious oversight and potentially a part of that blind spot he always seems to have when it comes to Noé.

As for Noé, first he's having everything he believed about his relationship with Vanitas cruelly denied by the man himself and then Vanitas trashes on the one relationship he's managed to maintain his whole life with Dominique. It's not like Noé was going to simply drink Vanitas's blood either (that much I was right about). He asks Vanitas for his help, begs him to simply tell Misha about that day, and is denied. He confesses that it's "self-centered" but he doesn't want to do what Misha requested. He doesn't want to drink Vanitas's blood to get this answer.

So, Vanitas actually had a lot of opportunity to turn this situation around or at least delay it, but he opted instead to goad Noé until the worst possibility was realized. When Noé lunges for him, he is terrified and immediately lost in his own past where he is told to never let anyone take his memories. Both Noé and Vanitas are having painful memories awakened during this scene, so neither of them is thinking all that clearly. Vanitas is coping with Misha being right there and memories of VotBM and Noé is dealing with his own memories of Louis's death and Dominique's imminent demise. The ghosts of the dead are haunting them both.

These two pages are the most powerful of the chapter in my opinion and my personal favorites. The angling, the mutual betrayal and devastation is very well portrayed. We can see that Noé is shocked that Vanitas shot him. Not only that, but right in the eye, something a chasseur would do to weaken a vampire. We also see that Vanitas is not unaffected by the whole thing. His arm is shaking after shooting the gun and he's flinching away from Noé.

And speaking of the eye injury, I had a theory awhile back that Noé might be partially blind in his left eye due to the injury he sustained as a child. He tends to guard more with his left side and has been consistently injured on his left side as well, which suggests that's the weaker side for him. Now that his left arm is injured and his right eye is also injured, how well will he fare against Vanitas? Especially now that he has the chasseur drug (gifted to him from Dante, I expect). Normally, I would say that in a straight fight, Noé would win without a doubt, but he's been severely hampered for this arc.

Of course, none of this is taking into account the fact Vanitas has The Book of Vanitas. While shooting Noé is far from a great move, it's significantly less destructive than using the book against him and I have to wonder, why didn't he? He easily immobilized Noé during the Bal Masqué with it and if he did something like that here he wouldn't even have to argue with Noé about what should or shouldn't happen next. Noé wouldn't get a say. It's entirely possible Vanitas has simply forgotten he has it but it's also possible that some small part of him is trying to avoid the ultimate betrayal because, despite everything he said, he does care about Noé.

Meanwhile, Misha is delighting in the whole thing. He's convinced Noé will win after all, and then he'll get his answers. Except, as I've said before, Misha hasn't thought this out all that well and he definitely didn't know Vanitas had the chasseur drug. That changes a lot for this battle. Still, Misha isn't entirely uninvolved in this fight. He unleashed a bomb (I think because they got too close to Dominique? or just for fun?) and he did this:

I'm... honestly kind of confused at what I'm looking at here. Did he just turn on the lights? Or did he transform the area? To me, it's a little reminiscent of Charlatan, but they're definitely not here, so I don't know. Regardless, Misha is the one in charge of the arena and Noé only has 15 minutes to accomplish his goal.

The time limit is going to be the main problem here. I foresee these two fighting to a standstill unless Vanitas brings out the book. Then there's Dominique. She's watching all of this in silent horror. Vanitas and Noé aren't likely to stop without outside intervention. What I'd like to see happen is Dominique reestablishing power over herself and getting them to stop, but I'm worried she'll take the more dramatic route of flinging herself off the building. After all, she's dealing with a serious load of self-loathing herself and she might think she's taking away Noé's friend by being taken. I'm still holding hope for Dominique to come out of this alive, but her fate is the one thing I'm genuinely concerned about in this arc because while things are bad for Vanitas and Noé, narratively they have to eventually come back together. That's the premise of the series. There may be a bucket load of trust issues and all kinds of difficulties--they may avoid each other this whole arc--but they have to eventually work together again.

Dominique does not have that same kind of plot armor. Her fate is tied directly to whatever Mochizuki thinks is most effective for Noé's plot and, well, I guess we'll see what that is.

As for who Misha is working for, there are a couple of possibilities. My first thought was Moreau to be completely honest, but Misha does have memories of him, so it's unlikely he'd ever refer to him as "kind," so I'm going to strike that option off the list. Teacher is a vague possibility, but I also think it unlikely. He wants to observe the events around the book, not create his own. Ruthven was another likely source, but if it is him I think it's indirectly through his connection to Charlatan. He doesn't want Noé to potentially die to Vanitas after all; he has future uses for him. He also doesn't seem to have that much interest in VotBM.

So, after crossing off most of the options, I think we're left with Charlatan (who isn't really a person, so probably a no on that too) and, weirdly, Marquis Machina. Oh, and possibly the de Sades, but while they dislike Dominique, I don't think they'd expend this kind of effort. It would look bad for the family. Now, we know basically nothing about Machina, which makes him a great option because we do know he's a major player somehow but not precisely how. I guess time will tell on that one.

As for other general predictions, I think Noé and Vanitas will fight to a standstill like I said before. Their battle will probably be interrupted by something, whether that's an action taken by Dominique or a third party arriving. Misha will definitely get away regardless of which it is. Whether Noé is willing to work with Vanitas will depend on what happens to Dominique and whether Vanitas will work with Noé depends on how capable he is of just... pretending the whole thing didn't happen and whatever Noé says to him. For the most part, Vanitas has stuck with Noé because of the way Noé has spoken to him, and that's likely to remain the same. Probably. Noé wants to save curse bearers, so as long as Dominique is okay he'll probably also shove the whole thing aside in favor of doing just that. But at some point they will both have to confront that things got ugly very fast and that this is in no small part to the secrets they kept from one another and the biases Vanitas keeps.

Waiting for the next chapter is going to be hard. XD I'm personally very excited about how things are going. They're not what I guessed, but they are super interesting and will really have an impact on the series, so I'm definitely here for it.

#vanitas no carte #vnc #vnc meta #vnc spoilers #Bemused's post #long post

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carolmaximoffs · 4 years ago

Text

teacher’s pet

summary: ransom gets a tutor per his parents meddling, lest his family pull all financial support.

pairings: college! ransom drysdale x virgin! reader

warnings: cussing, dirty talk, sort-of public sex (fingering... in a library...i’m sorry), reference to drinking, brief brief mention of hookup! (not w reader), loss of virginity, oral (f! receiving) uhh it’s filth alright it’s innocent reader and ransom drysdale what did you expect

UNPROTECTED SEX BUT THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION SO PLEASE WRAP IT UP

a/n: per request by someone who’s no longer on tumblr, but i wanted to finish SOMETHING in my drafts. (i started this in...gosh, august? it’s way overdue)

You’ve got to be kidding me, is the first thought to bounce across Ransom’s brain when he walks into the library that evening in January. It’s practically deserted, except for one occupant of a back table. You’re huddled over laptop, doesn’t even notice him walk in. He studies you from the doorway for a moment.

His second thought is, she’s kind of cute. He pushes that far, far away and all but stomps over to the table. You look up with a start when he clears his throat, sliding out the chair across from you and dropping his bag unceremoniously onto the table.

“Lets get this straight,” Ransom declares, folding his hands together into one fist and tucking them under his chin. It’s a move his mother had pulled in many ‘I’m-not-trying-to-control-your-life-but’ conversations. She usually paired it with an exasperated and slightly pouty look meant to guilt him into seeing things her way. He pairs it with a glower. “I don’t need a tutor, I don’t want a tutor, and quite frankly, I don’t even want to be taking this fuckin’ course. However slash comma, I need this course, so I can get the degree, build some shit from the ground up like everybody else, blah, blah, blah. So. Let’s get started.”

The girl across from him just blinks for a second. Maybe he did come off a little harsh, but he didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. You blink for a little longer, like you’re confused. Ransom is just about to ask if you’re deaf when you speak up. “O-okay. Right. So, I spoke to your mother-“

“Fucking fantastic.” You glare.

“I talked to your mother and she-“

“Wait a sec,” Ransom interjects for a second time. Your eyes get wide, like you’re about to lunge across the table and strangle him. “What’s your name, sugar-tits?”

You pull a face at him, somewhere between murderous and disgusted. “Y/N. Can you please stop interrupting me?”

Ransom only smiles, and you continue. His mother had emailed you in depth, evidently. Told you all about how he failed last semester, desperately needs the credit, et cetera, et cetera. Great. It sounds almost rehearsed, though, not as nervous nor hesitant as everything you say after. He gets the feeling you don’t quite know what to make of him, yet, and he intends to keep it that way.

—————————

Be-beep. Be-beep. Be-beep.

Ransom sweeps his arm out wildly; he hears the thunk of his water bottle and the rattle of the aspirin bottle he’d preemptively put out as they hit the floor.

Be-beep. Be-beep. Be-beep.

Finally, he manages to grasp his phone, the source of the wretched noise. Christ, his head is pounding, but he swipes to answer the call without even looking. He blinks through his migraine in the gold evening light as he croaks out a hello.

“Where the fuck are you, Hugh?”

He looks at the clock - right, right. Ransom forces a laugh through his dry throat. You’re pissed, and rightfully so. “Ransom, please, princess-“

“Don’t ‘princess’ me, prick. This is the third time this week. I’ve been at the library for thirty fucking minutes!” You hate him, hate him, hate him, but it’s been a handful of weeks now, and you know he’s positively beaming on the other end of the line. “I talked to Marcus-“

“Sweetheart,” He tries again, reaching for his water, “Marcus? C’mon, what’d I say about talking to my friends-“

“And what did I say about getting drunk off your ass the night before we’re ‘sposed to meet up? Ransom,” And you’re so angry your voice shakes and blurs with it, with the disappointment, and oh, that shouldn’t make him stir. “Seriously. Get your ass down here. I’m not letting Linda fucking Drysdale down.”

Ah yes, Little Miss Perfect, Future Miss CEO who idolizes his mother. There’s a little click as you hang up, and Ransom chuckles to himself as he takes a swig of water. He’s really considering meeting you, too; he’s just about to slither out of bed, throw on some clothes, grab his textbook. Then his latest conquest sits up beside him and stretches tanned arms, shaking long curls from her shoulders.

“Hope that wasn’t your girlfriend. I was really hoping for a round 3.”

And hell, who is he to deny a lady? (An asshole, and a liar, and an unreliable piece of expletive along with a few other colorful insults, according to the myriad of texts from Y/N. He puts his phone on silent.)

—————————

“I’m not shocked you failed this chapter twice in a row,” Your murmur as you trace your finger under the header “Strategic Differentiation is Key: Listening to and Working with Others”. It’s late spring, the library a little more crowded as more students brave the trek across campus. He sits beside you, instead of across from you, now, thigh to thigh. “You only talk to people if it benefits you. Actually, strategic differentiation is beneficial, so I guess I am a little shocked.”

“I never wanted to be a businessman,” Ransom shrugs, leaning his chair back on two legs. Your brows furrow, and you set your pen down hesitantly, like you know they’re broaching a tedious moment. The sort of thing that doesn’t occur often - Hugh Ransom Drysdale, being vulnerable. You’re quiet, though, and he finds himself continuing.

“I wanted to be a writer like my grandpa,” He admits softly, and he doesn’t know what’s made him say it - did he hit his head in his sleep last night? - but it’s out there. It hangs between them heavily. Your fingers curl around the edges of the textbook they’re sharing.

“I...That’s really sweet, Ransom,” You murmur finally in that stupid, adorable, fucking annoyingly soft way of yours. “Really sweet.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Ransom scoffs. He shrugs it off, like everything else, shifting and slinging an arm over the back of your chair. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone.”

“I-What?”

“You heard me. I told you something, you tell me something. Call it leveling the playing field. An eye for an eye.”

“‘An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind’,” You mutter uncertainly. You remain silent for a beat too long afterwards. Ransom leans his weight on his forearms on the table, ducking his head to speak in your ear.

“C’mon, what are you? A virgin?” He laughs at his own clever jab, but when he sits up, you still aren’t answering, face mortified. Ransom gasps exaggeratedly, grinning wickedly at his own fortune. “You are. Holy fuck. You’re a goddamn virgin.”

“Not so loud!” You hiss, slapping at his arm. You want to puke right into his stupid lap. Not that there was anything wrong with being a virgin, but hearing him say it like that... Damn him, you think, and then you huff, “Damn you.”

“Aw it’s okay, princess,” Ransom coos, and he’s mocking you, you know he’s mocking you, but something sparks in your stomach. He pinches your cheek in the way old ladies do to small children. “Nothing to be ashamed about. Not like you’re a junior in college and perfectly pretty enough to find yourself a hookup. What’s the hold-up, sugar?”

She presses her thighs together. Ransom pretends not to notice, still intent on an answer. Consumed with a combination of embarrassment and need (though mostly the former), she shrugs. “Just...waiting for the right guy, I guess.”

Ransom snorts, as if to tell her “that’s a waste of time”, or maybe because they both know it’s bullshit. But he utters nothing more on the subject, and instead picks up his pen.

“So, I think this is what tripped me up here...”

She can’t focus on his question. His free hand is tracing funny little patterns on her knee.

—————————

“Ransom....”

“Shhh,” He huddles closer to her, hushing her wary pleas. They’re at a different table, today, further in the back. He’s got a hand slipping up beneath her skirt. “Just trust me, princess. Keep on teaching me, while I teach you.”

And she does; her voice trembles, be it with nerves or need, as he dips his fingers beneath her panties. Ransom traces over her clit, teasingly, just to hear her stumble over the sentence she’s trying to explain to him. Fuck Management Skills - he was managing just fine, if he did say so himself. He prods at her entrance, gathering her slick on his finger tips, before sliding one slick digit in to the hilt. She makes a sound somewhere between gasping and choking. Ransom grins uncontrollably, ducking his head into her neck.

“So wet for me already, princess,” He whispers, a second finger joining the first. She bites her lip as he teases a third, so soon. “Come on. Focus.”

“Ransom, I can’t,” She half-whines, pages crinkling as she grips the textbook desperately. She squirms, but he’s unrelenting. “Please, we’re gonna get caught...”

“Not if you stay quiet,” Ransom replies gruffly. He experiments, just a little; they’d been making out before, after, during their sessions for a couple of weeks now. Each time, he grew bolder. Ransom hooks his fingers one instance - pumps them rapidly the next. When she’s come apart all over his hand, receiving a pinch to her oversensitive clit just to see her flinch, your lip is bleeding from biting so hard.

Ransom hasn’t learned shit about delegation, but he knows now how to make her cum.

_______________________

You’ve never been to Ransom’s before; of course, he’d swung a small apartment just on the edge of campus. Your skin trembles even as you try to steel yourself. You know Ransom hadn’t asked to relocate your tutoring session because he was tired. The two of you had practically finished the course, anyway, and he really was grasping it without your guidance at this point. You weren’t naïve; he wanted privacy.

Your suspicions are proved right as soon as you step inside. The moment you’ve toed off your shoes, he’s sweeping you into a heavy kiss, fingers twisting into the hair at the nape of your neck. His thumb presses into your throat; just pressure, nothing serious, but you still squeak. Ransom all but growls, free arm hooking about your hips.

“Jump, honey,” He says into your mouth, and you do, legs tight about his waist. He carries you through the apartment without a hitch; you knew there was some beef hiding beneath all those damn sweaters. You’re dropped a little carelessly onto what is unmistakably his bed; of course the bastard’s got silk sheets. Ransom tosses his shirt somewhere behind him, sliding cold fingers beneath your shirt. “This alright?”

And you half think it’s sweet of him to ask, but you also know his mother, and would frankly be surprised if he didn’t ask. Embarrassment and, honestly dignity out the window, you arch into his touch. “Please.”

Ransom makes quick work of your pants and undergarments; he’s still clad in sweatpants that probably cost more than you want to imagine as you lay naked before him. He looks more like a predator than ever, expression absolutely ravenous as he levels his face with your dripping center.

“Oh, I’ve never-” You stutter, face burning as he looks up at you as if bored with your voice. When Ransom speaks next, his breath has goosebumps crackling down your thighs.

“I know, baby. Just let me take care of you, hmm?” And all you’re capable of is a rigid nod before you’re throwing your head back as his tongue traces figure eights on your clit.

“Fuck!” You cry, and he hums something akin to a laugh into your core. His thumbs spread you open further as his tongue laps at your impossibly wet entrance; when he sucks at your clit, you almost scream. Ransom, still teaching himself your ins and outs, reaches up to tweak a nipple, and you thrash. That’s when he sits up.

“Was so...close...” You pant, bringing your chin to your chest with more effort than should be necessary. His weight has left the bed; he’d stood to rid himself of his pants, unsurprisingly having gone commando. You’re gifted with the glorious sight of his impossibly thick thighs as Ransom smirks, pumping his thick, leaking member lazily.

“When you cum today, baby, it’ll be on my cock,” The blond promises darkly as he clambers back onto the bed. His bulbous tip slides up and down between your glistening folds, and he groans, basking and unashamed in his own arousal. “And only...gah, fuck....only on my cock.”

You whimper in response as he pushes right in to the hilt. He wiggles his hips, swivels a bit; you’re unsure of whether it’s to fuck with you or make sure he’s snug within your throbbing heat, but you moan none the less. Ransom takes this as the okay to begin thrusting, and any discomfort quickly dissipates as he thumbs at your clit in tight circles. For the first time since you’d met him, there’s not an ounce of snark or irritation; he swings a knee over one arm, managing to angle up against your sweet spot each time, and your hands scrabble for purchase on his shoulders.

“Ransom...fuck, Ransom, please, I-” You whine as he pushes your knee toward your chest, pounding you ever harder in juxtaposition with his soft shushing.

“I know, princess, I got you,” Ransom grunts, forehead sweat-slick as he presses his face into your neck. He nips, just barely, breath coming hard and heavy. “Just let go, baby, right there with you, c’mon...”

With a cry that has Ransom clapping a hand over your lips, you cum, legs practically vibrating as you thrash with the force of it. Ransom’s hand doesn’t leave your clit until you’re nearly sobbing from the overstimulation; just like he’d promised, moments after your own orgasm, he slips out of your channel. You can’t truly identify the feeling swirling in your gut as he spills his seed across your torso, nor as he trails two fingers through it and brings it to your lips.

“Hey,” Ransom heaves after a heavy silence, the both of you still naked with his fingers still being laved by your tongue. “Did I ever tell you about my A in Management? Grade went up like, two weeks ago. I told you that, right?”

You bite down on his fingers in reply.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom thrombey x you #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale smut #ransom thrombey smut #carolmaximoffs #ransom drysdale au #knives out

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imfartooobsessedwithkpop · 2 years ago

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From age 9-15 i was sexually abused by my brother. I was bullied from a very Young age about my weight, I remember lying about my weight because I was so embarrassed, id compare myslef to my friends, i hated going out to eat. I remeber looking at my thighs and stomach at age 11 as a guy says "youre definitely heavier than me" (i definitely was not. This kid was obsese for a child, i certainly wasnt) but i thought "wow you really look like that?"

At age 12, I started to walk everywhere without a jacket because "being in the cold burns fat" I wasn't restricting, but I was very self continous and wary of myself, on busses I'd get upset that my legs spead, I'd skip breakfast, and started to not take lunches into school and just keep my lunch money when I got it.

I used to be a hard worker in school until about half way through year 9, i joined cadets and was groomed by a nco, who was 19, i was taken advantage of, and i blame myself for it to this day because i was "mature for my age" at 14. This went on till i was 15, I kinda stopped. Idk if it was cause by that event or just that I learned the art of cheating lol but I was also just too distressed to learn anything and I felt guilty and useless for not being able to retain the information, so that's why I started cheating to keep up my "good student" title because I was a very smart person before that event, when I moved to England I was ahead of all my classes but then I just..wasn't:( at 14 that's when my eating disorder took off. I was restricting my food intake to 1200 cals, following all the influencer and weight loss advice. Apple cinder vinegar and superfoods, no chocolate, no sugar no carbs, military diets, binging and then throwing up my food, I was hinding it in bags in my room, I'd be in pain, I'd have nose bleeds from how long I was purging, the blood vessels around my eyes and neck would pop. Then I got into kpop at 15.i started doing hour long dance workouts on top of my regular workout. I started to do the idol diets which got so much worse as I got tickets to a BTS concert and was determined to be "skinny". Brain fog was a serious issue, I'd get dizzy constantly. In 2020 I went to chams but was turned away to "focus on the court case" and was refferd back to my doctor, I saw this as "I don't believe you, you're faking it" even though I was eating 500 cals a day, and if I wanted to eat a pack of noodles I'd kill myslef working out. My family wants a Chinese? Oh well I'm gonna go on a 2hr run after it, and while I'm waiting for it to come I'll do some workouts in my room to make up for it. I felt so betrayed. Court was not my biggest issue. My eating disorder and self esteem was. It controls everything.

Half way through year 9, into year 10 I started smoking occasionally with my friend (weed and tobacco) which definitely didn't help My memory, this is when my ed was getting bad aswell. I started drinking pretty heavily, going into school drunk, I'd take a shot of whiskey before I left for "good luck" and I binge drink with my friends which is sort of normal, but then I started doing it by myself. I liked it, until it caused another event which effected the next 3 years of my life going to court. When I drank it would make me cut deeper because I couldn't feel it, which lead to me drinking more, just so I could do that. In year 11 i got my work ethic back, towards my gcses i started to work so hard, i stopped cheating, i was gaining my knowlege, and the grades i had were my honest grades, then covid happend and i didnt sit my gcses which started the previous attitude again. Even after the even I continued to drink when things went wrong, in that time I had 2 suicide attempts, 1 of which I was in hospital for. that was 2020 Nov. Around this time, before the attempt I had started to try other substances such as mdma. This made me miss out on a lot of college, mixed with covid I lost all work ethics, I honestly didn't care so I dropped out.

In april 2021 I got vocal lessons, music was my passion, from a young age I sung in church I was super outgoing, singing in my mums bar etc, but I was struggling alot with my self confidence so I done this to help. After an episode and a fight with my mom, she told me to stop wasting my teachers time (I hadn't attended a few times and was going deeper into my hole) I didn't need to hear that, because I didn't want to do that deep down, but I wasn't thinking. I was in my " you're a failure, you'd never succeed anyway" so I stopped seeing her, even though she tried to get me to stay (she was so lovely) I ghosted all of her messages (I did say why I was leaving but she still tried to get me to stay) even though she could have changed my life and my confidence. Self sabotage at its finest.

That summer I was drinking and partying, smoking and doing pills.

I decided it was enough, stopped drinking although i continued to smoke, and gave college abother go, this time in something I was so exited for, instead of a levels, I chose a music course. The start of the year was so good I went in everyday and paid attention. Then here came the lack of self confidence when we had a concert. But I powered though. I had tried Crystal MDMA before but on bonfire night 2022 I took it too far which kickstarted my 2 month crystal addiction though Nov to the start of Jan. In these times I was mixing at least 5-7 drugs together, I was on crystal for 5days at a time, even doing lines in college. I can't blame my addiction on anyone, my ex boyfriend fueld I though, his dealer was now my dealer and when I wanted it, I just needed to ask my partner. Surprise surprise this relationship was toxic as fuck and he was a narcissist. This made me miss college a lot, and when it was time to do a concert I messed up and had a panic attack, which brought in everything I had ever felt about myself, all the self doubt crept in again taking over my thoughts so I no longer wanted to go in. What sort of music artist can make a career with themselves if they always have panic attacks, anxiety attacks, voice cracks on stage, cries on stage. A lot actually. Most musicians go through that. But to me it was the end of everything. I stopped crystal In Jan 2022, but then started doing shittonnes of pills, punishers, trains, fires you name it, 7-9 pills in 1 night, 3 day benders with pills and acid so the addiction never really stopped. I hesitate to call it an addiction because i didnt do it everyday, i took breaks of 5 days inbtween (only sometimes) what addic does that? Once again, a lot do actually. That doesnt invaliate you. At the end of march it started to calm down, i done them less and less often usually only smoking. April 2022 I broke up with my ex, followed by another suicide attempt on my birthday. I felt forgotten and unimportant. I've always felt like an imposter, but from March to present it's gotten so much worse. I then I completely stopped all drugs besides weed for a good 2 months, the first month being fully clean the second I had lapes of 1 day, and would be taking mushrooms mostly, or 4 pills. Still a lot less than before so I took it as a win. although the thoughts to fuck my life up again are strong, im going to liverpool on friday. I am strongly resisting the urge to do DMT again, im already going no where in life why not fuck it up more? But im resisting. I was occasionally getting bursts of energy to fix my life. Did that go well? No.

My attendance in college is 50. And I'm passing my course. I have 1 assignment to give in and then I'm done!! Yay? No. I can't leave my house because my outfit isn't right or I bunged the night before and now I'm throwing a tantrum like a 7 year old. I'm hitting myself, screaming and crying because I don't want to go because I'm so scared of people looking at me. I dropped out of a convert that's is meant to be tomorrow because " ill just embarrassed myself" even though I wanted to do it so bad, and was so exited talking to my classmates about it. Now I haven't been in for a week because I'm so upset at myslef and if I hear them talking about it, I'll break down because I want that to be me. I don't think I can even go support them because I'm a jealous and selfish bitch. I want to be the one performing why are they?? Why do j have to suffer, why aren't they???? They are. There is a girl just as anxitious as I am. She's still doing it, so why aren't you, why did you stop yourself?

We finish college next week. If I just handed in the 1 assignment I'd be fine, and go onto the second year. But I hate everything I create, I hate the sound of my own voice. When I go to write, my mind goes blanc. People will actually have to listen to me? No thank you, their ears will bleed. They'll laugh at me. I'm such a cringe person. I can't write lyrics, I can't create a beat. I can't play any instruments. I'm useless.

What happend to the little girl who wanted to be a star. Who learned 3 languages by herself. Who wanted to learn every language in the world. Who self taught herself piano, who self taught herself dance, who was so passionate about the things she loves nobody could stop her. She always hated herself but she always got through it. What happend to the little girl who went through so much but still managed to get a lance corporal rank in cadets, who cried one year when she didn't get it because she worked so hard.

What happend to the little girl who wanted to fall In love, designed her wedding cake, but now is too afraid to leave her house, who is scared of olive oil.

I'm recovering slowly I guess. I can put sugar in my tea, and use oil while cooking. I still measure everything. Everything is number's. And as long as I stay under my cal goal i can eat what I want. I'm still terrified of restaurants, if I can't see the calories I have a panic attack. But I can put sugar in my tea. And I don't restrict to 500 cals.

I don't do drugs as often. Although I feel a relapse coming :(

I don't cut everyday, I've moved to other self harm that's less noticeable. But at least I don't cut right?

I'm behind everyone, I'm behind in life I should be going to uni this year. ..I can't even finish 2 years at college.

I wish everyone would understand I'm not lazy. There is a lot going on behind the scene. I don't sleep well because I'm paranoid and supersituous. I get night terrors and sleep paralysis. So I miss college to sleep. I'll get up.in the morning, my makeup doesn't look right. All my clothes make me look fat. Or I've had a panic attack and am now a vegetable for the day because I'm so emotionally drained. Or my voice is bad, I can't sing there's no point going in. Or " I'm gonna kill myself anyway, why should I go in"

I've been saying that for the past 6 years. I don't know what to do with myself.

On top of this, I feel like I'm faking everything. It's an extreme feeling. I search a lot of things online. What if I'm just copying those articles. Even though I've only recently started to research mental illness to try and figure out what I am. Why I'm like the way I am. I still felt all these emotions at 15. But what if? What if this is an extreme case. But I can't fake my trauma. It happend, so I must not be faking it right? AH but maybe I'm making it our worse to people than it is, oh well then you're probably faking it. But you're not AHHHHHHHHH SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

My brain is noise constantly, nothing shuts up, it's like a record player but a broken one, it cuts up songs and glitches them, whe 7 other conversations and thoughts happen.

I'm just exhausted.

I sit in my room and rot. I do exercise to feed my eating disorder that's it. I have paint and crochet but I don't want to do them, because what of I do it badly and then I fall down the hole of " you can't do anything right" and make myself even worse. But I'm making myself worse by not doing the things I love.

I'm so horrendously self aware it hurts. It's litterally painful.

I know my actions, how they effect me and others, but I can never stop them. I have blackout moments of rage. Over stupid things, I know this, but why everytime, can I not stop them? Why can't I calm myslef down, why does it happen again and again if I know I get hurt. Again and again when I know my parents are fed up of calming me down.

I'm on a waiting list but I don't know when I'll get help. I can't help myself I always fail at it, I need someone to MAKE me help myself.

Sigh, I just want that good little girl back. I want her to heal her own wounds first.

There is so much in this post, yet there is still so much to say so.much I haven't talked about. I'm just confused, scared no terrified of this world that I'm just paralysed in my own misery

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writernotwaiting · 3 years ago

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Loki Meta Nobody Asked For, part 3--All MCU Lokis are AU fan fiction Lokis

There is so much in part 3 that I really wanted to see and I very much want to celebrate, but once again, I am conflicted.

Ok. Good things: Loki and his magic. Loki and fighting. Loki and improvisation. Loki as bisexual. Loki talking about his mother. Loki showing a moral compass.

All of these are Most Excellent Things: • Loki here is finally not a de-powered pushover. His illusions are effective. He teleports over a short distance. He resists Sylvie’s mind control. He stops a multi-ton support tower from falling and pushes it back up into place!!!! • He fights effectively--finally! Granted, his dagger misses its mark, but he was drunk, so I’ll give him a pass on that. Aside from that, he finally shows us some highly effective hand-to-hand combat skills. Thankyouverymuch for acknowledging that Loki survived a millennia of life in a warrior culture. He was raised by a warrior king. His brother is a Hero(tm). There’s no way he didn’t learn some skillz. His ineffective fighting in episode 2 can easily be attributed to the fact that he was pulling his punches when he was fighting the human shields Silvie possessed. • Loki’s character explicitly acknowledged their queerness!!!! This makes my little queer heart glow bright, and I think needs no more comment. Just . . . yesssss! • Loki loves his mom. Loki is conflicted about that relationship because They Lied To Him. And did I mention that Loki speaks wistfully about his mother and a bit about the fact he was adopted and no one told him until he already pretty much found out (in the most awkward way ever). Even Sylvie thought that was pretty poor parenting. Good stuff. • Loki really doesn’t want to kill innocent bystanders and only attacks folks who attack him first. He is also kind of appalled to hear that the TVA workers are all variants who’ve had their minds wiped. Again, this is all excellent, and fits well with the Loki we met in Thor I who just really wanted to make sure his war-mongering brother didn’t sit on the throne until he grew up a bit, and then Everything Got Way Out of Control. • We see Smart!Loki in action, as opposed to hear Mobius flatter Loki to get him to cooperate. While one of Loki’s attempts at deception fails miserably, the other works (with Sylvie’s help). This is all excellent and made me Very Happy Indeed!

[more below the break]

I also very much liked many parts of his interactions with Sylvie, and the fact that we got a tiny bit of her backstory (and I love her insistence on her own identity--this is very much I think a Loki thing, “I am not you. I am my own thing, thank you very much”). This relationship has a great deal of potential for complexity and depth. I am totally here for enemies to frenemies to allies if that’s where the series is going.

I like the reveal that the TVA agents are all variants themselves who have been “wiped” and indoctrinated. We are finally getting more obvious hints at the insidiousness of the TVA.

So why am I still conflicted about the series? Well, here is what I did not like: • Loki’s improvisation with the old woman--he had too little information to pull off an effective scam like that and he would have known that. He had a photograph. A black and white photograph--no voice, no personality, no coloration, no body language; he didn’t even know if the picture really was one of a husband and not some other type of relation. There was no way it would ever work. He should have known that. Loki would have known that. • His voice and body language when he pretended to be a guard was stupid and unconvincing, not mimicry. That was a joke. • The getting drunk thing. I found this not only disappointing but insulting and also possibly lazy on the part of the writers. It felt completely out of character. In fact, Sylvie felt much more “Loki-ish” in this scene than Loki did. I just cannot in any universe see Loki doing anything like this under these conditions. They are undercover in a high-pressure situation in which they are about to be wiped out of existence if they fuck things up, and Loki decides to get drunk? No. This is a virtually suicidal loss of control. They have no idea how long they would be on that train or what they would have to deal with later. They have no idea what sort of security is in place on the train. Why did they even stop in a bar, of all places? Why not find a sleeper car and stay out of the way? For that matter, why not just find seats? Why would a guard be sitting in a booth at a bar with a prisoner? They wouldn’t. Loki’s sense of self-preservation is stronger than that. He’s smarter than that. It was stupid and out of character and also unnecessary--there are so many other ways they could have gotten them shoved off that train that did not involve Loki making a spectacle of himself. It was, in fact, a very Thor thing to do, not Loki-like at all. • I still feel as though Tom is over-emoting in all of the scenes that are less than life-or-death. It does not feel like the Loki I met in Thor I and The Avengers. That Loki had a length of re-bar up his spine and only genuinely smiled when he looked at Thor (when Thor was smiling).

I feel like Tom is playing two Lokis in the show--the one that fights his way out of tight spots and occasionally deals with his difficult family issues, and the other is a parody of mischief!Loki--whose face is extremely emotive and who wants to bare his soul to whomever looks vaguely as though they’ll listen to him.

So, here’s my mid-series conclusion. All MCU Lokis are fan fiction Loki’s of the comics. Among those MCu fan fics are three distinct AUs.

1. The Loki we meet in Thor I, The Avengers, and Thor II. This Loki works hard to bury his emotions. His body language is generally stiff and prickly. He is the product of growing up in a culture that is driven by a toxic masculinity and devalues those traits that are coded “feminine” such as all of those things Loki excels at. Because of this, he has gotten the message his entire life that he is with less that the Golden Child that is Thor. He loves his brother with all his soul but resents him because his father placed them in competition with one another. All of this was reinforced by growing as the “tag-along” little brother who was tolerated but not embraced by Thor’s closest friends. This Loki becomes self-destructive and suicidal, experiencing a psychotic break as a result of revelations about his adoption and internalized racism. He spends who-knows-how-long falling through the void enduring perhaps months of sensory deprivation only to be tortured and manipulated by Thanos. He emerges from that experience Truly Fucked Up, stopped of much of his power because he’s had the living shit kicked out of him. But his core self is still there somewhere--a core self that loves his brother, that craves affection, that really hates what Asgard has done to him but still has a moral compass in there somewhere that says wiping out the entire universe is a bad thing and I guess protecting helps humans is something he ought to do since his brother loves them.

2. The Loki we meet in Ragnarok and IW. This isn’t really the same guy as Loki #1. It’s a fan fiction AU in which Loki has no trauma to deal with. He is a manipulator. But he is a manipulator because he is a survivor. He does what he has to do in order to be not dead, and if he can also have some luxury while he does it, well, that’s a bonus. Theoretically, he is a powerful mage--since he was able to overcome Odin and place him in a nursing home--but we don’t see any of that on screen. He is revered Mostly Harmless by the narrative. There is no re-bar up his ass. His body language is much more loose and emotive. His characterization has been flattened out in order to serve as a narrative foil for Thor, and will be bridged in IW to serve Thor’s character development (yet another feminization of his character). Many people really enjoyed this version of Loki. But let’s be clear, he isn’t the same Loki we met in the other three movies.

3. The TVA Loki. This Loki is a new fan fiction. A third AU. This Loki is slightly closer to Loki #1 in that his characterization is a bit more complex than Loki #2. He is smarter. He is more versatile and powerful. He has a backstory that isn’t being mocked. His queerness is not being used to villain-code him. But it would be wrong to say he’s the same Loki that we saw in the first three movies. This Loki’s trauma is all family-related, which great, at least they acknowledge that.

However, he clearly is not the PTSD!Loki that we see in TDW. They have decided (at least so far) to completely ignore what happens between Thor I and The Avengers. I’m not quite sure why it’s ok to deal with trauma when it’s Bucky Barnes and Tony Stark, but not ok when it’s Loki, but this is the decision the director made, and if I want to enjoy the show, I have to be ok with that. So that’s what I’m going to do right now. The Loki show is fan fiction. It’s an AU. And it does a pretty good job at doing that.

#Loki series #Loki spoilers #meta #also posting on Ao3

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