#i'm white as fuck and it would be very silly to try and deny it like i would look so silly

[stardustpr1ncess]

Bonzle is 100% without a shadow of a doubt a trans allegory. People have been trying their best to say Sora isn't transcoded, but Bonzle is 2 scenes away from looking at the camera and saying "Hello. I'm a trans allegory." I shall now go into detail on every piece of evidence for this claim because fuck you.

EPISODE 5: Bonzle is afraid of how her found family will react to learning she's a spell (trans) and worries she will be rejected because of it. Easy parallel to trans people being afraid of revealing they're trans post transition. There's also her conversation with Bitch Boy Master Wu, with her saying she feels great loneliness, and only after gaining a physical form (transitioning) she feels happy and her true self. Very common trans experience. Gonna also put all of the quotes for my evidence as well since I know there's transphobes (filth) that like Ninjago and will be scrambling to deny it when people start coming to this conclusion too.

"Bonzle: I-- I was afraid of what you'd think if you knew about my past... Wu: It's called loneliness... Bonzle: I feel like, for the first time ever, I've become who I was destined to be... Bonzle: I was afraid if you found out I wasn't a real person, you wouldn't want me to be in our family anymore."

EPISODE 6: Bonzle is apprehensive about meeting with Gandalaria, seeing as how she's only known Bonzle as a spell, aka pre transition. She worries if she will respect her identity, much like how actual trans people fear how their family, more specifically a parental figure, would react. Bit of a light episode but an important aspect, here's the quotes;

"Bonzle: The Sorceress. She only knows me as a spell. What if she doesn't believe in me as a real person?"

EPISODE 7: This episode is the sauce. Bonzle is reunited with Gandalaria and their conversation is nothing short of magical. Gandalaria immediately recognizes Bonzle, saying she was her greatest creation and had always hoped she'd come home, shattering Bonzle's fears. It's a fantastic contrast, showing how this interaction can go well for some people, while others get an interaction much more akin to Sora's parents. When she's informed of Bonzle's chosen name, Gandalaria immediately starts using it, saying it's a great name. However, for that juicy authenticity, Gandalaria accidentally says spell before quickly correcting herself saying Bonzle. IT'S LITERALLY SO FUCKING OBVIOUS BONZLE'S BONES MIGHT AS WELL BE BLUE PINK AND WHITE. Oh yeah, here's the paragraph of quotes;

"Gandalaria: It's you! My dearest! You've come home! Bonzle: You... You recognize me? Even in my boney physical form? Gandalaria: Oh, I would know your true essence anywhere. Bonzle: I was so afraid you wouldn't accept me for who I am now. Gandalaria Are you kidding? I put my heart, my soul into every spell I weave... The most complex spell I've ever woven, and the first of my creations to ever come back to me!.. Bonzle: I'm Bonzle. That's the name I chose when I became a person. Gandalaria: Well, that's a splendid name... If this Ras times it right, he could reverse the power spell-- uh, Bonzle here--."

EPISODE 9: This episodes importance comes from Jordana, who acts EXACTLY how transphobes do. She constantly calls her a spell (some sort of derogatory term), says she's playing person (like pretending to be a girl), and says she's helping her do what she was made for, like transphobes very creepy beliefs in reproduction. Literally you half expect Jordana to ask which bathroom Bonzle uses since she was a spell. THE QUOTES;

"Jordana: Settle down, spell. I don't know what you think you've been doing, playing person with your fake family, but I know your true purpose... You should thank us. We're helping you to do what you were created to do."

In conclusion the silly lego skeleton girl is one of them spooky transgenders. Lmk if there's anything I missed. Thank you for reading.

[turtlecleric]

*breaks down your door hoping I’m not too late*

6 with 07 raph????? Pretty please!

Haha you're not too late! Anything for you, Yorsh!! 💕

-

CWs: kidnapping, held prisoner, brainwashing, murder and death, blood, seizures, self-blame, violence against reader

-

The cell door groaning on its hinges startles you from your daze. Not the sound itself, really, but the fact that it’s not time for the sound yet. Weeks of being stuck here has ingrained the daily schedule into your very bones; you know for a fact that there’s still a while to go before your dinner is usually brought to you, which means that fucker is probably coming to taunt you again.

You scoot into the corner of the room, pressing your back against the wall. Making yourself smaller, putting as much space as you can between yourself and him. It's a silly thing to do, considering the fact that he really and truly could do whatever he wanted to you and you wouldn't be able to stop him, but it feels better than doing nothing. And Raph would… want you to protect yourself however you could. 

 He would. If-

“Tonight I will finally prove my worth,” Stockman says, hunched over and fiddling with something in his hands. “The Shredder will see that I do have value.”

You want to tell him that that's impossible. He can't prove what isn't true, after all. But you stay quiet, letting him mutter to himself, and focus instead on the hulking shadow that stands far behind him. White eyes stare impassively at you, the only thing clearly distinguishable in the darkness where he lurks.

Raph. 

There isn't much light where he's standing. It's hard to make out the details, but… you think he looks thinner than the last time Stockman brought him down. Is Stockman keeping him fed? Letting him get enough sleep? You seriously doubt it. You're not sure what he's got Raph doing every day, but you've seen glimpses of the bruises. New scars that you're certain weren't there before. 

Suddenly, Stockman surges forward, gripping your jaw in one hand and shouting inches from your face. “I'm speaking! You will listen when I speak!” 

Someone's pissed. It almost makes you want to laugh. To spit in his face, see just how angry you can get him. Then your eyes flick to Raph, who's still standing there on the far side of the cell. He hasn't so much as blinked this entire time, but. He might still be aware. There might be a part of him watching this. You need to stay out of trouble, to appease this pathetic excuse for a man, because if you get hurt, Raph will lose his mind when he… comes back to it. 

“I'm sorry,” you croak. The apology feels sour on your tongue, but you push through anyway, trying to look like you mean it. Stockman scowls but releases your jaw and straightens up, shaking his head as he peers down at you. As if you're the unreasonable one in this situation. Fucking prick.

“As I was saying,” he continues, stepping back and fiddling with the… remote? Something. It looks like a remote. A bulky one, despite there only being a handful of buttons. “You're going to help me with the final phase.” You pull your gaze away from the remote to look back at him, and the rage you saw earlier has been replaced with something closer to satisfaction. You really, really don't like the look of that smile. “Isn't that great? Knowing you'll finally be useful for something that matters?”

Does he expect you to nod? To smile back? To flap your hands in anticipation or gasp in giddy shared excitement?

You don't respond. He doesn't push it, though, and snaps something into place on the back of the remote with a solid click.

“What exactly are your… feelings for this creature,” he says, gesturing towards Raphael. 

What kind of a question is that? You glance between the two of them, wondering if it matters how truthful you are. In the end, you can't deny what's been drilled into your head since the day you woke up in this cell: he's in control. And it's always better to play along. 

“He's my friend.”

Stockman huffs through his nose, clearly amused by your answer. He twists, staring at Raphael before turning back to you. “Do you believe that he cares deeply for you?”

Your eyes narrow into a glare without your permission. Obviously the answer is yes - and Stockman knows it. You're the entire reason he was able to lure Raph into that fucking trap of his in the first place. He wouldn't have come for you if he didn't care - no matter how stubborn he is about admitting it out loud. 

Stockman hums, searching your face. For what, you're not sure.

“Beast.” He takes another step backwards, while Raph steps forward, close enough that you can make out the bruises and cuts that litter his scales, the thick metal collar that looks too tight around his neck. Every time you see him, the guilt threatens to swallow you whole. His expression is perfectly blank, and that, you think, might be the worst part of all. “This should determine whether he is truly, completely under my control.”

Wait, what?

“Make her stand.”

Raph moves immediately, grabbing your upper arm and dragging you to your feet. It's not a painful grip, but it's firm enough that you know you wouldn't be able to pull away even if you tried.

Stockman's eyes bore into yours, still searching. He takes another step backwards, gripping the remote hard enough that it creaks in his hands. “Choke her.”

Your eyes widen, but that's all you can do before you're shoved backwards against the wall. Raph's free hand wraps around your throat, and you feel it constrict your airway without hesitation. The shock gives way to fear, primal and desperate and wild. You need to breathe. You need to breathe. Your hands come up instinctively, trying to push against his plastron, to grab his wrist. Anything to breathe, anything, anything,  but air doesn't come. Your nails drag along his arm, your feet kicking at his legs. 

It does nothing. He doesn't move, or weaken his grip, or so much as flinch. Through your tears, you can see nothing but him. Eyes still white, face still blank, watching you with what an outsider would deem as disinterest as you struggle. Your lungs scream for oxygen, burning, burning, burning. Tiny, bright spots prickle in the darkness, the edges of your vision pulsing with every frantic heartbeat, and the fear would choke you if Raph wasn't already doing so. 

Raph. Raph is going to kill you. He's going to strangle you to death, and then Stockman will take him to Shredder and make him do who knows what else, and if his brothers ever manage to save him he'll blame himself for everything - and it'll be completely, 100 percent your fault. 

You try to speak, but there's no air for the words to take shape. 

“Release her.”

You fall in a heap, not managing to catch yourself, and bang your head against the concrete. You pay no mind to whatever the fuck Stockman is saying, focusing instead on the sweet oxygen that's finally expanding your lungs. Your ears are ringing. The room spins, and your forehead feels oddly wet and itchy. Before you can think too far past the fact that you can breathe, there's a hand in your hair, yanking you up so that you're kneeling. 

When you manage to focus your eyes, you can see that Stockman is pacing, gesturing animatedly as he speaks. The ringing, you have to listen past it. You have to focus. 

“-did it! This confirms it, I'm sure of it. If he'll hurt you on my command, then he'll do anything on my command.” Stockman pauses, looking at you. His grin stretches wider, and then he strides closer and crouches in front of you. “What were you going to say?”

…What?

Your face must betray your confusion, because he clarifies quickly. “I saw you trying to speak. What were you going to say?”

…Why does he care?

His smile gets impossibly wider, and something in his eyes darkens. You have a fraction of a second to realize that you said that out loud before he responds, “Because when you say your last words, I want you to know that they're your last.”

When his words register, it feels like your chest is caving in. Collapsing in on itself, burning to ash that you can suddenly taste in your mouth. You were right. You're going to die. 

And Raph-

You close your eyes, not wanting to look at this maniac's face any longer. You imagine Raph in front of you. The real Raph, with his sly smirk and gentle hands. You imagine his eyes. Not the white ones you've seen since he was turned, and not the sharp ones he likes to put on like a show. The soft ones that you catch him looking at you with when he isn't expecting you to glance his way. 

“I'm sorry, Raph,” you whisper. “It's not your fault. Please don't blame yourself.”

Stockman barks out a laugh, making you jolt. You hadn't expected it, though you're not really sure why. 

He's still laughing when he gives the order. Still laughing when cool metal presses against your neck. You ignore it, craning your head back to catch one last look at Raphael. 

“I forgive you, okay? It's not you. This isn't your fault.” Raph blinks down at you, his face as neutral as before, and - you can't help it. You put it off for so long, afraid of the consequences. Afraid of pushing him away, somehow, or of ruining what you had with him. Silly, you think, to have wasted so much time when this is how it ends. If you don't say it now, then you never will. “I love you.”

He blinks again, and you wait for the pain. You try to prepare yourself, try to reason that it'll be over in a few minutes. Try to convince yourself that it could be worse. You're not sure how, exactly, but you're sure that it could be worse. He blinks again, and when he does, you see-

A blur of motion, and then he's gone. Something starts to drip nearby. You hear a new sound, a horrible, wet gurgling, and by the time you've realized what's happened, Stockman is already on his knees, clutching his neck. Red spills from between his fingers, and the same red drips from the kunai in Raph's hand. 

His eyes. They're not white. Wide and wet and terrified, but not white. 

The laughter stops.

You focus on him, now. He's looking more alive than he has in weeks, his plastron heaving with each shaky breath. The rage that radiates from him is almost a tangible thing, every part of him trembling. 

“Raph?”

He inhales sharply, his head whipping your way. The rage is replaced with something more like grief, and he starts to stagger toward you. You reach for him, and you can't help the smile that spreads across your face when he reaches back. Finally, this nightmare is over. Finally, finally, you-

Movement catches your eye. There's no time to shout before one of Stockman's hands reaches for the remote that's on the floor in front of him. He presses a button, and Raph screams, his hands coming up to clutch at the collar around his neck, and falls to his knees. 

“No!” You scramble toward the remote, pulling it easily from beneath Stockman's weak fingers. Blood has smeared across the buttons, and none of them seem to be labeled, and they all look the same - but Raphael is shrieking, making sounds you've never ever heard him make. You have to make it stop.

You press one at random. Nothing happens, so you press another, then another. The next one makes the screaming stop, and for a moment you think you've done it, but then every muscle in his body goes taut. He starts to convulse and falls onto his side, and now you're the one screaming. 

Small, aborted sounds spill from his lips, and horror threads itself among your veins. You can barely see through your tears, can barely press the buttons with how hard you're shaking, but finally, finally, you hit a button that makes everything go quiet and still. There's a series of clicks, a whirr and a hiss, and the collar breaks into pieces, tumbling onto the floor. 

You rush over, dropping the remote and cradling his head in your hands. “Raph? Raph?!” Clumsy fingers search for a pulse, but all you find is burnt flesh and pinpricks. “Raph, open your eyes. Raphael!” You grip his shoulders, shaking him desperately. Waiting for his eyes to open, for him to smile up at you and ask what all the fuss is about. You wait, and you wait, but he's. He's not. Moving. 

You shake your head, blinking hard. He's stronger than this. He can't be dead. You're just- just not capable of getting a pulse. Because of how thick his skin is. That's all. 

“Raph, I can’t carry you out of here. I need you to wake up, okay? So we can- so we can go home. Okay?”

He doesn't respond. You swallow, glancing toward Stockman. The man is deathly still, sprawled-

Ha. Deathly still. Because he's-

A hysterical laugh bubbles up and out of you, and you wince at the ache in your throat. You realize that you're breathing too quickly. Hyperventilating, the Donnie in your head corrects. Right. Thank you, Donnie. 

“Raph, I need you to wake up now,” you manage between breaths. “I need you to- to-” 

Your legs are starting to ache. They're cramped from sitting on the floor like this for so long. But you can't get up and stretch. Not when Raph is still-

“Raphie, I need you to wake up now. Please?” 

You need to stop crying. You're probably dehydrated, and this isn't helping. Raph never liked seeing you cry. It always made him sad, even if he didn't say it out loud. If you're still crying when he wakes up, he's- he's going to-

“Raph?”

You scrub your face with your forearm, trying and failing to take a deep breath. It hits you all at once, how much pain you're actually in. Your head. Your neck. Your chest. Even your muscles. Everything sort of just… aches. 

But it's okay, because when Raph takes you home he's going to patch you up. Just like you used to do for him, when he would stumble through your bedroom window with a busted lip or a cut on his leg. He'll take care of you, and you'll take care of him. 

“We need to go home so I can patch you up. Like old times,” you remind him, scratching gently along his shoulder. “Remember?”

He doesn't respond. 

“I should've told you back then. That I love you. I don't know why I didn't, I- I guess I was scared. But I'm telling you now, okay?”

He doesn't respond. 

“...Raph?”

Something in your chest gives way. A black hole of an emotion you can't name, because naming it would make it real. 

As if you have any say in it after the fact. It's real regardless of whether you call it by its name. Just like-

You close your eyes, covering your face with your hands. Your fingers brush against your forehead, and it hurts. Everything hurts. And you deserve every bit of it. You did this. It's your fault that he's-

“You love me?”

Everything stops. For a moment you swear even your pulse freezes in time, and then you raise your head to see Raph staring up at you, eyes soft and hazy and alive. Relief crashes over you like a tidal wave, all-consuming, and before you can think better of it you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Of course I do, you fucking asshole!” You pull back, holding his head in your hands and watching his expression switch from surprise to amused confusion. You probably seem like a total lunatic, but you don't even fucking care, because holy shit he's alive. 

You feel his hand pat your arm, and then he's sitting up as if you weren't mourning over his supposed fucking corpse less than a minute ago. You have a terrifying moment where you wonder if you're dreaming, but pinching yourself changes nothing, and you can count all your fingers, and honestly? If this is a dream, you don't want to wake up.

You focus back on him. He's pushing himself up, shaky and clumsy but alive, and when he holds out a hand to you, you take it immediately. The two of you walk past Stockman without a second glance, and by the time you make it outside the building Raph is steady on his feet and moving with purpose. 

Fresh air. The sounds of the city. A second wave of relief crashes over you, and never in your entire life have you felt this grateful. You look at Raph, unable to stop yourself from smiling when he looks back with those soft eyes. 

You see his gaze flicker down, then back up. His expression shifts into despair, his mouth opens, but before he can say anything you speak. 

“Take me home, Red.”

He looks almost surprised at that. Confused. Unsure. You'll need to address that - and several other things - later, when you've both been cleared by Donnie and you've gotten some food and rest. But for now, you pull him into a hug and repeat, “Take me home.”

After a moment's hesitation, he wraps his arms around you. You melt into the embrace, sighing. Then he lifts you, shifting you in his arms so that he can carry you, and holds you close against his plastron. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs, soft eyes on you. “Let's go home.”

-

tag list: @luckycharms1701 @thejudiciousneurotic @khayalli @justalotoffanfiction @thelaundrybitch @mxalmighty @shakeyourtrees @silverwatergalaxy

[theglidingbat]

Ghostbat headcanons because I'm in no-minhkhoa content hell

Bruce loves giving minhkhoa forehead kisses and nose kisses, during tender moments or when he's feeling sentimental, minhkhoa always grumbles about it but it's one of the little things he enjoys

Adding onto the previous one, minhkhoa rarely kisses bruce tenderly his kiss more fierce and filled with passion and hidden emotions he refuses to reveal.

Minhkhoa will make fun of Bruce's clothes and fashion choices but yet can be seen with wearing his turtleneck, bruce will narrow his eyes as Minhkhoa pretends to be ignorant, he never returns the clothes by the way.

But if bruce ever decided to take minhkhoa's clothes he has to hear multiple snarky remarks, only to be tackled when he tries to take of Minhkhoa's green hoodie , ghostmaker would rather die then admit he likes his boyfriend in his clothes.

So they definitely got married at some point right?

I feel like bruce knows how to cook but pretends to be shitty at it around minhkhoa just so he gets to see minhkhoa cook, minhkhoa knows this and indulges him anyway

Listen, I think the "minhkhoa can't feel love" thing is bullshit because he does care a lot, even if he's terrible at it, he's not even trying per se but bruce is one of the very few people he actually cares for, Bruce thinks that's how minhkhoa just is, he doesn't realise he has special treatment expect the name thing.

But a fun alternative is that he knows that he gets special treatment from minhkhoa and loves it, and gets extremely possessive and bratty about it too.

I know it's retconned or whatever but Rhea being minhkhoa's first love and after everything minhkhoa still likes to distance himself, bruce who's probably witnessed atleast half of their relationship will always feel like and know that he won't ever have the same place in minhkhoa's stone cold heart like Rhea did and it kind of hurts him

Minhkhoa doesn't even deny it, why bother lying to a man as smart as Bruce? Bruce should be able to handle the truth, he still cares for Bruce but he's sure (scared) of the fact that bruce would die or disappear, or worse forget him because of his own stupidity (empathy)

Okay enough angsty from me I swore I would be an account without much angsty shit but here we are.

Minhkhoa loves grilled cheese. It's a headcanon me and my irl friend thought of as an old inside joke but yeah that's the only American food this mother fucker tolerates, with tomato soup and everything. Specifically if Bruce makes it with the crust cut.

The grilled cheese is more of a crack headcanon but eh.

Someone make a fic of Minhkhoa teaching Bruce's white ass how to make rotis (I've been leaning into minhkhoa being half Tamil or of Tamil origins loads lately and it's my favourite fanon hc of him)

Bruce can't get it in a perfect Circle and it pisses him off, minhkhoa laughs at his face.

One very silly thing I love to think is that during a chase scene in their past minhkhoa would pick bruce up and make a run for it and sticks through their adulthood, an explosion is about to go off and before bruce can do anything minhkhoa has him in a carry as he runs away with him.

Them Falling back into old habits, bruce latching onto minhkhoa and pulling his hair during a immature argument, minhkhoa screaming and trying to shake him off as Talia tiredly sips her tea, they're all 40 and the batkids finally see where exactly Damian gets it from.

My personal headcanon is that during btk era bruce had freckles, minhkhoa won't admit it but he misses them,as Bruce grew his freckles faded.

And that's it for my latest Ghostbat headcanons, do note that these are extremely self indulgent and may be occ but eh who gives a fuck

[galaxae]

if youre still doing the ocverse ask game, 3 and 19? 🥺

ougghhh i so totally still am. i'm mainly fixated on my stupid ass video game idea (working title is gods don't bleed but i want to change it bc it doesn't fit as well anymore)

forgive me if this is incoherent, my boyfriend dislocated his knee so i have to care for him, and work has been terrible and burned me out, so i'm definitely leaving some stuff out of my answers :(, but whatever!!

3.) any recurring images/elements?

absolutely yes. lots of imagery of plants and animals, for one. fire vs. ice too, yes i know it's a very commonly used trope but i like playing around with those two things, especially when i get to kinda subvert expectations with them. similarly with light vs. dark. and also colors vs black and white, both in terms of morality and in terms of actual visuals

19.) describe the sillies you think about but that dont go in the story.

in my mind, charity and fabian (the first two playable characters, and close friends) are exes. it's probably not going to be canonized, but it's also not going to be explicitly denied, so...

their first date was incredibly awkward, by the way. fabian was an ignorant rich kid who loved to pry and stick his nose in others' business and not let up until he knew everything about a situation, while charity was freshly in the "my mom and i were homeless, got taken in by a man, and then that man turned out to be very very bad so we had to flee the state and come to this small piece of shit town where no one realizes how privileged they are, and this all sucks, and i don't want to talk about it" mindset. they were also both 14-15 which is the worst age to be. they broke up so fast after this but now they've got a really solid friendship going a few years later, and charity has a different (cooler) partner

also, so many silly bits of dialogue that... i'm not sure they'll go into the game at all, or if they do, whether they'll just be optional bits. but some favorites include (formatted sorta like they would be in my script document):

KIMBERLY: Oh, hey, Fabián, you're in French 2 with me next semester. JAMAL: Wh... what? People actually take French? I thought that was a myth. FABIÁN: Well, I already know Spanish since everyone on my mom's side and, like, half of my dad's side speaks it. So I thought taking Spanish would be way too easy. CHARITY: You stupid son of a bitch. That's exactly why you should take Spanish.

ACE: Holy shit, I just got stung by a bee! FABIÁN: Are you ok??? Ace pulls the stinger out of their face ACE: LOOK! It's still pumping venom! That's so cool! CHARITY: What the fuck is wrong with you? ACE: What's wrong with you? Lookit!

JAMAL: Hey. Kimbie. KIMBERLY: Don't call me that, please. What is it? JAMAL: Spell ICUP. KIMBERLY: "ICUP?" JAMAL: Spell it. KIMBERLY: That's not a real word. Fake words don't have spellings. JAMAL: Can you at least try? KIMBERLY: Oh. Wait. I see. I-K-U-P. JAMAL: ... KIMBERLY: Does that suffice? Jamal looks as though he's about to cry. [Later that same day] JAMAL: Hey, uh, hey Kimbi-- Kimberly. Is it just me, or is your outfit kind of, uh, "updog?" KIMBERLY: What? JAMAL: Your outfit's kind of "updog." KIMBERLY: What does "updog" mean? JAMAL: ........Can you........... rephrase that, please? KIMBERLY: ? No. JAMAL: :/

also, there's a period of time when kimberly is in 9th grade where she gets really intensely into astrology. specifically so that she can Know A Lot About A Thing that other people don't know as much about. she'll see someone doing something, walk up to them and be like "what are you, an aries venus?" and when they don't understand the reference she'll be like "never mind :)" and feel smart. she no longer does this in the game because she realizes that's so cringe. and she has OTHER science to do, dammit!! (like proving the Weird Kid at school is a literal alien)

another fun fact: kimberly (resident genius) and jamal (who does not give a shit about academics) play chess together one time and jamal wins because kimberly is so perplexed by his newbie moves that she doesn't know how to respond to them.

oh... i didnt realize i had this many sillies... cool :)

yall are encouraged to send more asks if you want i love these blorbos

[ishikawayukis]

how many times babes, latine is not an ethnicity

[buckgasms]

req/idea- bucky using a vibrator on himself for the first time

Ok so Nonnie, my beautiful amazing Nonnie. You didn't specify a setting for this so I'm hoping that the route I've gone down still gets you where you wanna go.

Ask box is always open

Warnings: Dom/Sub vibes; Daddy Bucky; vibrators; Reader made to watch Bucky get his rocks off; spanking mentioned;

Enjoy

------------------------💞----------------------

You had been a very naughty girl. You'd teased your daddy non-stop all day and now you had to live with the consequences.

When he had finally managed to get you back to the apartment, he had pressed you into the door, hand around your throat while his other ripped your panties off and you realised what an absolutely stupid fool you were.

20 minutes later, your ass had been spanked raw, you had cried, made all kinds of promises and begged for that dick, but Bucky was having none of it.

"You wanted to be a silly slut all day, that's what you're gonna be all night." He said as he sat you in his usual velvet covered seat that pointed towards the foot of the bed. Normally Bucky sat here and you were perched on his lap, or knelt between his knees. Not tonight. He popped you down, the fabric doing little to soothe your sore bottom.

He grabbed your chin so you were looking right at him. "If you hands go anywhere near your pussy you wont be able to sit for a week." You nodded as he wiped your face of lingering tears and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Only when you whispered "yes daddy" did he let go and settled himself on the large bed. You watched as he picked up the large vibrator wand, one of your absolute favourite toys. You whined but stopped quickly with a look from him.

"I've never actually tried one of these before y'know? I mean I've seen you fucking cry on this thing, is it really that good babygirl?"

You blushed and nodded at him, making him chuckle. "Well I doubt it'll turn me into a mess like you Princess, but I'll see huh? Seeing as you can't be fucking trusted to behave, you're gonna sit there and watch me use your favourite toy on my dick and miss out on getting daddy's cum. That should teach you a lesson hey sweetheart?"

You whined, tears welling in your eyes. You couldn't deny you had been bad, but fuck if this was the worst thing you would ever have to endure. "Daddy...please I'm so sorry. Learned my lesson.... Please?"

He laughed again, flicking the wand to life and shook his head. "Nice try silly baby, but you gotta sit there and let daddy have his fun now..."

Your mouth watered as he ran it up and down his length. He growled and let his head drop back as the vibrations pulsed through his hard cock. He could hear you whimpering in the background, only adding to his pleasure. Obviously he'd rather be fucking you, but you had to learn your lesson.

Your eyes were as wide as dinner plates as you watched him press the head to his balls, and he actually twitched as the buzz rippled through his body.

"Fuck babygirl, I can see why you like this so much..." He lifted his head back up and looked at you. Your eyes were glued to his cock, face stained with tears and your fingers were white from gripping the arms of the chair. "You want your toy back princess?" You shook your head and whispered "cock daddy, want your cock, please.... Be such a good girl....please?"

He groaned as the sweet sound of your begging and the vibrations created an ache in him, bringing him right to the edge of release. You watched as he teased his head, heard him growl and curse as he came, covering the wand with his release.

The low hum ceased and his stomach raised and fell as he panted. You were desperate to get your hands on him, run your fingers through the hair on his chest, kiss him all over and be his good girl again.

He sat up and beckoned you over. You sprang up and crawled onto the bed, settling between his thighs, tentativley running your fingers along his shin.

"You gonna be a good girl from now on?"

"Yes daddy"

"You gonna be a silly slut when I'm working again?"

"No daddy, never" you promised.

He smiled and stroked your cheek, pulling you in for a soft kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him harder, desperate for his touch, to feel anything of him.

When you surfaced for air he waved the wand at you, still dripping with his cum. "Clean this up for me baby, if you do a good job, might let you watch me again."

[minthe-lover]

The ironic thing I find about the recent chapter is how childish they make Persephone out to be. Not only does she go 'you can say whatever you want about my boyfriend with me in the room', which first of all is none of her business since Demeter and Hades have had beef for thousands of years, since before she was born, but also tries to yell over Demeter when she doesn't say what she wants to hear? There were no arguments to be made against it, just yelling louder and louder to direct her attention off of Hades, because really, what does he have to argue against Demeter's points? An equal to herself who has been known to emotionally cheat and/or be apart of someone else's cheating, dumping all of his problems on an unstable 19 year old who can't control her own powers, like yeah, what are going going to say? Not only that, but the physical childish jabs to Persephone makes me not even take her seriously. Her 'uwu small cute frustrated face' while she at the height of a child compared to those who are supposed to now be her equals, how she's wearing Hades' oversized and baggy coat to make her look even more small, it's all just so stupid. It would have been nice if Persephone had changed to what style SHE wanted, different from hades, maybe a more sleek and modern dress rather than the white and traditional she always wears on the mortal realm. Fit her crown, wrap red vines around it to show it's been taken by the goddess of spring, it would have been more dramatic than 'i took down Kornos by spitting bees at him and throwing third grade insults around! So now I'm queen! And no mom, it's not a phase! Even though I've been known to switch my mind on things like jobs and education, I want to be with this man your age and be his Queen! See? I'm even wearing his jacket, I'm his now!' I know the whole 'its just a phase' thing with Demeter what supposed to make her look overly controlling, but honestly, Persephone has given her ENTIRE life to Hades. We only see snippets of her 'friend' circle, if you can even call them that. She doesn't go back to school, has no plans of coming back to the mortal realm to continue her duties as the goddess of spring, and with how quickly everything has happened? I'd think it's a phase too

^^^^^

Very well put... Also the problem I have with Demeter asking you speak privately with hades.. is that she was trying to talk to hades. It really fucking bothers me that hades literally said nothing during that whole argument.. no apologies for his past behavior.... No trying to deny Demeter calms... I mean for fuck sake he does stand up and try to defend Persephone?

Persephone basically demands to stay .. which fine okay.. but then interrupts Demeter trying to talk to hades like... Again Demeter wanting to talk to hades.

Also it annoys me that their response to Demeter basically saying she's worried her daughter is gonna get trapped in an abusive relationship with someone who will treat her like an object. (Which is a completely understandable worry since it's happened before)

Is basically Persephone just say "ugh mom we love each other!"

Which.. just doesn't actually get to the point of the problem???.. you can love your abuser.. your abuser can love you.. that doesn't mean it's not a shitty relationship.

They treat Demeter's point as a silly overreacting and smoothering mother... But instead of trying to communicate with Demeter they just .. ignore her. Like yeah persephones you are definitely close to being equals with hades... Equal at being rude and dismissive to you mother.

[synthetickitsune]

Hhello, how are you? Could you please write sm*t prompts 2,3,26 for taeyang of sf9?

Hello, I'm doing alright and I hope that's the case for you too! Thanks for requesting~ ♡

Yoo Taeyang (SF9) | Caught masturbating & Cumming in his pants & "Do you want to feel how hard I am for you?" smut | 0.8k

It’s immediately suspicious when you can’t find Taeyang anywhere. You’ve thought that he’d spend his rare day off watching tv or playing games, but the apartment is too silent for that. Only as you’re approaching the bedroom do you hear any sound and saying you’re not expecting that sort of noise would be an understatement.

Even though you’ve knocked, your eyes fall on half naked Taeyang, one hand down his pants and pumping his cock as he gives you a sly smirk. He looks delicious, the bare skin of his chest glistening with a thin layer of sweat and hair sticking out to his forehead.

“Took you long enough, babe,” he teases, “I thought I’d have to come get you first.” You lean against the doorframe as you watch him, his hand slowing down slightly. 

“Hmm, seems like you were having enough fun regardless,” you say, not moving from your spot.

“Could be better,” he hums, his eyes practically begging you to come closer.

“Is that so?” you quirk a brow at him, amused and satisfied to simply watch him trying not to squirm.

“Yeah,” he whines, “I missed you. Do you want to feel how hard I am for you?” As much as you’d like to continue watching him getting more and more desperate, you relent and walk over, sitting at the edge of the bed and running a hand over his chest. His back arches into your touch, his hand slipping out of his pants and grabbing yours to replace it. You let him take control, for now, indulging him and wrapping your hand around his cock. He sighs, grinning at you like he’s won something. You squeeze him harder in response, drawing out a moan from his lips.

“You’re leaking,” you note aloud, making him whine as you rub circles on the head of his dick, “I wonder how much longer you’d last if I didn’t interrupt.” 

“I-I wouldn’t,” he gulps, trying to focus on forming words, “I wouldn’t c-cum. I was waiting for you.” He’s full of surprises today. Then again, it explains why he looks so fucked out.

“Did you deny yourself a lot, babe?” you ask, still in disbelief even though it’s obvious he did.

“Yes, so please, be good to me,” he whimpers as you continue teasing his tip. Maybe you should be good, but this is a rare opportunity to have him at your mercy. 

“Shouldn’t you be grateful I’m touching you at all?” you remind him, sliding your hand up and down his cock, speeding up just when he’s about to talk. His voice breaks and he whines instead, his hands fisting in the sheets under him.

“I-I am,” he begs, his voice higher and pleading, “P-Please.”

“Still, since you couldn’t wait…” you think aloud, slowing your tempo a little to let him catch his breath, “Why don’t you cum for me, be a good boy. Then maybe we can do something together when your mind is clearer, hm?” With that you pick up the pace again, his pleading falling on deaf ears.

“I-I- my pants,” he complains without focus.

“You should’ve taken them off, silly,” you scoff, stopping your movements around his tip and playing with it in your fist. His whines are music to your ears, as his hands gently run over your forearms, begging you to just make him cum. 

Deciding you’ve had your fun, you give in to his wishes. But not before running your thumb over his slit a couple times. He’s leaking and you know he’s very close, his cock twitching in your hold. Your hand glides over his length easily, lubricated by his precum and he bucks his hips into your fist. You consider telling him to just get himself off like that, but you’re being nice so you don’t. Instead you help him reach his high and ride out his orgasm as he paints your hand white. He’s whimpering softly, his knuckles pale where he’s holding on to the sheets. 

You listen to his breathing calm down and only then do you take your hand off him, smearing the cum on the front of his pants. He whines again, giving you a glare.

“It’s so uncomfortable already, why’d you do that?” he complains and groans when you press on his cock through his pants.

“As I said, you should’ve taken them off when you wanted to play,” you shrug, “But we have a perfectly fine washer near the shower. You should wash yourself too, and you owe me a favor, don’t you?” you hint and see the mischievous glint return to his eyes as he gets the implications.

“I’ll make you pay for this,” he growls as he gets up and follows you.

“I hope so, Taeyangie.”

[soup-14]

A Date at The End of The World | Five Hargreeves x gn!sparrow!reader | Part 3

Summary: Five immediately takes you on your second and third dates. There's no time like tonight.

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking, Five strip tease? (I'm joking- a bit- no smut though don't worry)

Playlist inspired by this fic: POV: Falling in love with Five for one night

-----------

You and Five had finished your food and were making casual conversation, getting to know each other. Five goes to pour you both another glass of wine only to find the bottle empty. “Damn it.” He mumbles. He stands up to get another bottle from the bar when loud music starts to play by the dance floor. You immediately get up from your seat and grab Five by the hand, yanking him towards the dance floor, where everyone else is already dancing. The two of you stumble over, and sloppily dance your hearts out. There’s no rhyme or reason to your moves, you just feel the music and the alcohol and let it take you.

You dance with Klaus and Diego, Lila and Sloane, all of you having the time of your lives. Once you get tired you stumble off the dance floor sweaty and parched. So you make a bline to the bar. You grab two glasses, one for Five. Since his bucket list wish was to get fucked up, and you weren’t going to deny him that pleasure.

Five notices your absence from the group and follows after you, like a lost puppy. Lila leans over to Diego and shouts in his ear “What’s wrong with Five? He’s acting…mushy.” 

“I think he’s got a crush.” Diego replies. Klaus throws his arms around the couples shoulders and pokes his head in between theirs. “It’s young love.” He swoons. “It’s so sweet, I haven't seen Five this happy since-” Klaus pauses, thinking. Then seemingly giving up he just slithers away and back to mindlessly swaying to the music. 

“Did I tell you that you look pretty tonight?” Five asks as he slides in next to you behind the bar. “No, you didn’t.” You reply simply. “Well, you look very pretty.” Five says, slurring his words a bit. You giggle and grab a handful of little straws from the counter. You use your power to transform them into a small bundle of tiny white flowers. You hand them to Five with a smile. “You also look pretty.” Five blushes and places the flowers in his breast pocket.

“Hey, do you wanna get out of here?” says Five.

“Five there’s nowhere to go, the hotel is the only building left.”

“Yeah, yeah, the hotel. Let’s go explore and have fun. We can blink into peoples rooms and go through their shit.” Five suggests. Usually you would be against it, but there’s literally no one to stop you so why not. “Consider this our second date. If you’ll have me?” Five holds out his hand. You smile and take it. “I’m in.” 

The two of you spend the next hour or so blinking into the suites on the top floor, stealing their alcohol and rummaging through their stuff. You play dress up trying on the rich peoples fancy coats and prancing around the room. Either drunk Five is a lot of fun or you’ve gotten him to loosen up around you, but somehow you’ve managed to get him in a long, green, designer coat with a silk scarf and sunglasses to match. You yourself found a wonderful fur coat and a silly hat.

Five sits down on one of the suits' plush couches with a tall glass of champagne in his hand. You have to admit that the green coat really works for him, it brings out his eyes. “Darling I do say you look absolutely charming in that coat.” You say, putting on a silly posh accent.

“Thank you dear. I’d say the same for you, except you’d look much better with 50 pounds of expensive diamonds giving you neck pains. Yes, you would look absolutely radiant.” Says Five, going along with the bit.

“Perhaps you can buy me some when we return to our mansion in the small European country that we own.” You say, plopping down on the couch next to him, putting your feet up on his lap. You two rest for a while on the couch before Five asks “Are you bored yet?” You hum in response. “Never.” You sit for a while longer, basking in luxury. 

“It’s too hot in here.” Five says suddenly, getting up from the couch, stumbling as he removes the scarf and coat. He loosens his tie and undoes a good share of buttons on his shirt. His suit coat was already lost somewhere a long time ago. 

You stare unapologetically. Your face is getting warm. Your mouth is salivating.

You shake yourself from your daze, embarrassed. You take off your coat as well, feeling yourself start to sweat in the stuffy suite.

“Let's go to the roof.” Five slurs, voice cracking a bit. He tightly grabs your hand and pulls you close to him, blinking you both to the roof.

The air is much cooler here. You take a deep breath, taking in that sweet scent of apocalypse. Five’s hand is still wound tightly with yours. You carefully stumble to the edge of the building, sitting down. “Wow.” You breathe. “You have to admit, it's kind of beautiful.”

All around you orange clouds or space dust- you don't know which, swirl in the sky. Stars can be seen peeking out from behind it all. Hotel Obsidian is the only building left standing. Floating aimlessly waiting for the kugelblitz to take it away with the rest.

“It really is.” Five says. “I’ve spent most of my life in the apocalypse, I would never have thought to call it beautiful. This one is I suppose. Maybe you being here makes it that way.”

Five looks around him, and he picks up a piece of gravel and shows it to you. “Can you uh-” He waves his fingers around. You smile, understanding. You touch the small stone and it blooms into a beautiful pink flower. Five looks at you and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, he then places the flower there. “For our third date.” He says softly. You smile and rest your head on his shoulder, taking his hand back into yours, and toying with his fingers.

[nightswithkookmin]

chile i'm so glad i came across your blog, the amount of "i'm not going to assume they're dating" or "we can only draw certain conclusions but i can't say for sure" "we don't know their sexuality, BUT" type blogs i follow is getting kinda wack lmao. while i appreciate their perspective and nuanced takes i need to strike a balance. like let's get a lil delulu every once in a while. 💀

lol the im-not-a-shipper-but-call-jikook-boyfriends-every-other-post blogs are the funniest to me. the shipping hierarchy, so to speak is so weird. maybe just because im not a "shipping real people is bad" person i don't see the big deal. gonna get called delulu anyway, might as well go full out. they is gay/queer and they're fucking. i'm so sorry.

*also can we touch on the fact that shipping in this type of fandom (kpop) is kind of inevitable and unavoidable??! these boys are the other people we see them with day in and day out, interacting with each other and no one else. i feel like it's natural to ship when there's no other people around to break up everything, idk maybe someone can articulate this better than me. and people who are made to feel stupid for thinking that 2 members could actually be dating is so dumb. like is it really out of the realm of possibility that two people (jikook, cause all them other ships are....😬) who spent almost every waking minute together for like 8 years could fall in love. really?

/rant

It's the delulu hat for me

Lmho.

I guess for me being queer, I feel it's gaslighting for these people to be saying things like that. As silly as it is, it inadvertently deny and invalidate the existence and queerness of gay individuals and so I struggle with it.

This is the consequences of straight people in gay people business. They like defining gay parameters for us and it's like who asked you?? I feel people who say things like that are just plain ignorant or tone deaf or willfully homophobic.

I don't think everyone in BTS is gay but it makes me feel safe to see half the community assume them to be and celebrate them in that way. They are not cussing at them and threatening to leave the fandom or cancel them for this assumption and that is huge inspiration to me.

Those parts of the fandom are a safe space to be in as a queer army.

When people assume a person's queer sexuality they are simply admitting to themselves at the very least that LGBTQ EXISTS. This is important to me because I grew up in a community where LGBTQ didn't even exist in the collective consciousness of the people and EVERYONE IS AUTOMATICALLY ASSUMED TO BE STRAIGHT AND EXPECTED TO BE.

People read people's sexuality all the time and have done so since time immemorial and a lot of the time when they have had a sexuality read it's in the lines of straight, cis, rich, poor, superior or inferior. And that is a problem for some of us too because that discrepancy in the assumptions is as a result of homophobia and heteronormativity.

That whole don't assume a person's queer sexuality debacle sounds to me like a boujee way of denormalizing and preventing the normalization of queerness disguised under care, disguised under intelligence and disguised under wokeness. Especially when straightness is the default setting in this giant blue bulb.

We need to radicalize that. We need to change the cis straight default setting and if you are perpetuating this narrative you really aren't helping the situation. SIT DOWN.

I'm rarely assumed to be queer in certain circles and while that makes me feel comfortable within those circles it often times make it hard for me to admit my queerness openly in those circles too because I fear I will lose that comfort and respect and love and privileges that comes with being percieved straight in those spaces.

When I started my blog, I noticed some people assumed I was white and would use certain black descriptors as slurs when describing other people to me. I quickly had to switch the formal way in which I wrote to a much casual tone so my blackness would show through. Don't get it twisted. She black. She blackidy black black.

Then on the other hand, I was hesitant to let my queerness be known too because being black, I was marginalized as it is- you is black, or sound black💀 you know how it is- it's that intersectionality of oppression at play. Double double homicide.

When certain people realized I was black POC minority, their attitude towards me changed. I had those who didn't so much understand what black language is or perhaps wasn't used to being in black spaces and were uncomfortable with my blackness- these would take offense at me saying certain things in certain ways. Like chilee relax Karen, all I said was these motherfukkers gay as shit and they gay. Why you acting like I called them twinks or sommin. Right there, I'm cancelled for calling Jikook motherfuckers. They get sirens and everything😭😭😭😭😭😭

Same vein, I struggle destraightening myself or correcting people who assume I'm straight because I fear they will treat me differently if they knew I wasn't.

Straight privilege exists in the same way as white or even pretty privilege may exist and because these exist there's that automatic conception of queer, poc, ugly, fat disemfranschismet to run along side it.

People treat you differently based on how they perceive you. That's a fact. And for queer people, perceiving us as straight is the only way we get to be treated as human by the masses. And a lot of us embrace that- straight until proven gay am I right 🤣🤣🤣🤣

It's the duper's delight for me. Untill you catch me with a 5'8 melanin skinned silk pressed auntie on my left nipple good luck proving I'm gay.

It can be fun, I akekeke when some people around me are totally oblivious to the fact and even sometimes defend my straightness with their dying breath when nasty friends throw them shades or try to out me unprovoked.

A lot of us don't want to admit we are gay because we don't want to be disenfranchised.

I speak for myself when I say this.

But 'Don't assume someone's sexuality' is a double edged censorship used for and against queer people. It seemly offers protection on the surface of it for queer people but underneath it promotes heteronormativity and standardizes straightness and it is also used to promote closet culture, under the disguise of care and concern for the autonomy of queer people but that is a fallacy because our autonomy has never mattered to anyone since the dawn of homophobia.

And I don't know where this interpretation comes from. Why do people not want to assume queer people's sexuality but it's ok to assume straight people's???

It feels like a hijacked movement to me.

THIS IS THE ACCURATE MOVEMENT AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED.

Don't assume all people are straight. It's ok to assume some people are queer because queer people exists too.

It is wrong however to assume queerness based on how a person talks, walks, dresses or even on their body type. That is stereotyping. And stereotyping is wrong.

When it comes to Jikook, Jimin is often stereotyped as gay more so than Jungkook because they have different body structures. Jungkook is stereotyped too solely because of the way his wrists hang, or based on moments he's femininity shines through.

But I don't think shippers stereotype Jikook in that way at all. I dont think shippers believe Jikook are dating eachother simply because Jungkook applied setting powder to his face that one time. They assume they are gay only because they believe those two to be dating eachother. That is not stereotyping. If those two were heterosexuals I don't think people will accuse their shippers of stereotyping.

It's one thing to assume Kai is gay because he looks skinny and dances well. It's another to assume he is gay because in a relationship with Gdragon. And if people can't tell the difference between the two, they should get some education and stop talking about things they know nothing about or only know because they stumbled across user69 on Twitter. They are not helping.

Untill people get offended when people assume others are straight, that rhetoric doesn't matter in its inequality. If you ask me, everyone is gay until proven straight.

Yet how many people will take offense at that?

Assuming people can be gay is not delulu.

It's ok to assume people can be gay. It's wrong to stereotype them as gay. If you can't assume they are gay, don't assume they are straight and don't assume at all. Run with this sis.

Wait, they don't ship Jikook but they call Jikook boyfriends???????👀👀👀👀👀

The fake woke syndrome will kill people in this fandom with these mentally confused thought crisis bunch💀💀💀💀

Jikook themselves are shippers💀

Smh

GOLDY

[fanmoose12]

a little something for @bruciesnat :) i know i've promised it like a lifetime ago, sorry for the delay! oh, and i decided to combine it with a prompt i also received a long while ago <3

Mike doesn't know why he's doing this. Doesn't understand how he agreed to it, can't comprehend why Erwin would make him do it. Mike doesn't know what he had done to deserve this- this punishment.

He's- he's a good man. An honest one. He serves to ensure the future of humanity, he risks his life to give others a better one.

He's good at it too, he's excellent at fighting and slashing and scouting. He was the best one at it, before- before the annoying midget came.

The same annoying midget, who is insanely strong and easily irritated. The same annoying midget, who has a crush on their adorable Hange. Hange, who Mike has to seduce to test Erwin's theory that Levi, insanely strong, easily irritated Levi, truly has a crush on their Hange.

Mike swallows heavily as he sits next to Hange, just a little too close as Erwin instructed. He smells that it won't end well.

He cringes, as he puts his arm around her shoulders.

Mike likes Hange, a lot actually. Sometimes he feels like they're siblings that were torn apart by some bigger entity. So yeah, he likes Hange. But definitely not like that.

But, oh well, anything for the cause, right?

"Hey, Hans," he murmurs, adopting his most seducting tone. He hopes that his smile is charming enough to captivate their dear scientist. "Are you free tonight? I have two tickets to the theater perfomance," he leans in closer, lowering his voice to what could probably (Mike is an eternal optimist!) be called an enticing whisper. "They're showing the creation of the the Walls tonight."

Somewhere on his periphery, Mike can see a swift dark shadow that oozes the smell of detergent. That shadow, it grows closer, its aura becoming more menacing.

Mike can only hope that if Levi attempts to kill him, Erwin would intervene.

Although... knowing Erwin, he'd just write Mike's death off as a necessary sacrifice.

He takes his hand off Hange. The shadow retreats a few steps back.

"Sorry, Mike," Hange shrugs with a small, apologizing smile. "I showed that play to Levi a few weeks ago. I had my fill of religious propaganda for now. But if you're looking for someone to accompany you," she winks and turns around. Mike's heart sinks. "Levi really liked going to the theatre! He'll be happy to tag along, right, Levi?"

Mike meets Levi's eyes, and sees nothing but desire for murder inside.

Mike quickly scrambles to his feet. "You know, I'll just ask Gelgar to go with me. I'm sure he doesn't have anything better to do."

And they can get wasted afterwards. Mike really needs that after this conversation.

Just as he retreats, Levi takes his place, sitting down next to Hange, also just a little too close.

The mission had failed spectacularly, but, Mike consoles himself, at least he learned that Hange and Levi went to theatre together. And sometimes intel is more important than the victory, right?

Ah, if only Erwin would share his opinion on that.

***

Erwin's second attempt is even worse than the first one, but, at least, this time it doesn't directly involve Mike. Still, he's an unwilling spectator to it, and, just as the last time, he doesn't like where all of this is going.

He already feels bad for the poor guy Erwin hired to hit on Hange during the annual military ball. Where did Erwin get the money - did he take them from the Corps' funds or his own allowance, Mike doesn't know, and, frankly, he isn't sure which option is more disturbing.

At least, the actor is handsome, Mike doesn't know if Hange would like him, he doesn't know if she has a type, and if she does, he hopes it's not annoying midgets, but the guy is handsome, there is no denying that.

Hange has cleaned up fairly well too, the white suit looks excellent on her, bringing out all of her best assets, demonstrating her wide hips and lean, long legs. The hair, gathered in a neat bun, shows her long, gorgeous neck, and the light make-up make her even more gorgeous than usual.

When she and Erwin walked through the front door - him in his blue suit and Hange in her white, symbolising their Wings of Freedom, everyone had their breath taken away.

Even Mike was a little shocked to see Hange dressed up like this, and Levi, who stood right next to him, was completely blown away, staring at Hange with wide-eyed, lovestruck look.

Thanks to Levi's ridiculous expression, Mike now understands why Erwin goes to such length to bring their resident weirdos together. It is delightful to watch Levi behave like that, and Mike longs to see more of this side of him.

Soon after Hange and Erwin make their grand entrance, their guy makes the first move.

He approaches Hange, his eyes bright and smile so charming it makes Mike envious that Hange is at the receiving end of it. He kisses her hand, whispers something in her ear.

"He praises her recent experiment. I thought it was a good place to start," Erwin explains quietly to him.

"Ah," Mike nods. So Erwin thought every detail through? Not surprising at all. "Think this would have an effect on Levi?"

"It already does," Erwin says, pointing to a furious cloud of black hair and suit that is approaching them at a rapid speed.

"Has four-eyes lost all shame?" Levi practically growls, his eyes throwing flames. "Is she seriously flirting with a fucker from the MP?"

"He's not a soldier," Mike answers, reciting a legend Erwin created. "He's actually a wealthy merchant from the South. Heard he sells apples to the King himself."

"And since when Hange is interested in someone like him," Levi crosses hands on his chest, his glare turning even darker, as Erwin's actor takes Hange by the hand and leads her to the dance floor.

"You know, you can ask Hange to a dance," Erwin advices with a pleased smile. "Then she won't be able to flirt with others."

Levi scoffs. "I would rather fight a horde of titans than dance with stinky four-eyes."

Maria, Rose and Sina, Mike thinks. They're worse than children.

"Hange has taken a bath before coming here," he tells Levi.

Levi rolls his eyes. "And now she looks even more awful than usual."

Mike shares a look with Erwin. Does Levi prefer usual Hange, when she doesn't bath for days and her eyes water from the lack of sleep? It almost sounds cute.

"This is the last time I'm attending this shitty ball," Levi swears to Erwin. "Even wine here is shitty."

He marches away immediately after that, heading to the table with wine. Mike can barely stop his laughter, as he watches Levi take a glass of wine, drink a few large gulps of it, and then wince, his mouth moving as he probably murmurs violent curses. He doesn't take his eyes off Hange and her dance partner, and relaxes only when the song ends.

Both Mike and Erwin watch intently as the actor kisses Hange's hand once again. Hange blushes, and Mike almost coos. Levi grabs another glass of wine.

When the actor starts leading Hange away, in the direction of the balcony, Levi starts moving too. He intercepts them just at the edge of the ballroom.

Mike knows he should have expected something like that, knows that Levi doesn't exactly possess the best of manners, but pouring wine over someone? Over his own colleague and friend? Mike certainly didn't expect that.

He's delighted to see what happens next, though.

What happens is that Hange's gorgeous white suit is ruined and Levi wraps his hand around her wrist and drags her to the bathroom. He sports a unusually pleased expression and Hange is laughing herself silly.

Not a bad ending to this endeavor, Mike thinks.

"Another disaster," Erwin sighs.

***

Third time is a charm, or so Mike hopes.

This time Erwin decides to take matter in his hands, and that another sign that this plan will succeed.

The plan is simple, yet, hopefully, effective. Erwin is to whisk Hange away to some remote location, create a scene that would look like a moment between lovers, and Mike is to call Levi there and make sure he witnesses it all.

Erwin is a brave man, Mike thinks, as his Commander explains the plan to him. He would never dare to do something like that to humanity's strongest. To awaken his jealous streak... Mike is glad he's not in Erwin's place.

One sunny afternoon, the plan is set in motion. Erwin takes Hange, and Mike goes to find Levi.

He finds him fairly quickly, in the middle of cleaning Hange's room. Man, he could at least try to make his crush be less discreet. But that's beside the point now, because Levi is cleaning Hange's room and not watching Erwin and Hange. Mike confidently strides up to him.

"Levi! I've just been looking for you."

"What do you need?" he asks boringly. "And have you seen four-eyes? I can't find her all day."

Erwin prepared some legend, a reason why Mike needs Levi, but in the heat of the moment, Mike can't remember a single word. So he just yells "Come with me!" and hope that Levi follows.

Thankfully, he does.

Mike leads him to the stables, where Erwin is already at it. His palm is on the wall, next to Hange's head, and from Mike's point of view, it certainly looks like they're in the middle of... something naughty.

Next to him, Levi tenses, and Mike can practically hear his teeth grinding.

Mike prepares for something very ugly, but then...

"I- I didn't know that Erwin and four-eyes-" oh, fuck, it sounds like Levi is genuinely sad, like he's heartbroken or something. Mike feels a strange desire to hug the little guy and pat his head. But then he remembers that he and Erwin are the reason for Levi's distress right now, and... remorse starts kicking in.

"Levi, listen, it's not-"

"Levi!"

As always, Hange is the one to save the day.

She breaks free from Erwin and sprints to Levi, a wide smile on her face. "You won't believe what Erwin had just told me! He gave me permission to go in the town's library and bring back all the books I want! I'm in dire need of your muscles, humanity's strongest, you'll go with me, right?"

Levi still seems grouchy, but under Hange's sunny grin, his angry facade crumbles. "I don't know if Commander will allow it..."

He doesn't even try to hide his bitterness and irration. Mike disguises his chuckle as a coughing fit.

"Erwin!" Hange turns to him, eyes pleading. "Can Levi go with me?"

"Sure," Erwin nods. "Take all the time you need."

Hange yells in triumph, loud enough to make Mike wince. She grabs Levi by the hand and drags him away. Erwin watches them with a wistful smile.

"I don't think we should get involved in their relationships," Mike says, as he approaches Erwin. He stands close to his Commander, their shoulders pressing against each other. "We should let them figure it out themselves."

"Agreed," Erwin says. "I'm sure they'll manage well enough even without us."

Mike watches Hange wrap her arm around Levi, and is inclined to agree. They will certainly manage without them both.

Or, at least, Hange is able to manage.

And that should be enough.

[teresa-of-ficwill]

Dead End Journey (or not?) - The Witcher

Summary:

When you fall in love with the witcher, things are never going on easy. Jaskier knew it. But what if you fell in love with two witchers? And also met a really gorgeous woman, who you can't get out of your head? It gets even more complicated.

However, maybe… Jaskier even likes all this a little bit. Or not a little? Anyway, time will tell.

CHAPTER 1

Jaskier was sure that something had gone wrong. Completely wrong. He had never imagined hanging around with a broken heart but there he was. Shattered to pieces. Rejected by his only one.

Actually, Geralt wasn’t his only one in common understanding. Jaskier slept with so many people he could not even count. Men, women… to him that didn’t matter. He was attractive, funny, and good at sex – people loved him for that. But everyone has to stop somewhere. And Jaskier thought he was ready to stop if Geralt was by his side. As a witcher, as a friend… and as a lover.

But his beloved man had always chosen another one. Yennefer. It was really predictable, to be honest, but Jaskier didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want to believe. Yen… she is a bitch. But she is really attractive, hot and good-looking bitch. She treated Geralt like shit and he fell for that. Oh, what a shame. But, maybe, Geralt didn’t want to be loved. Maybe he just wanted to be controlled.

Jaskier was not sure but he actually didn’t want to figure it out. He just wanted to forget but it seemed impossible. So, he decided to just get drunk till he forgets his own name. Really good idea.

This woman… she was beautiful. Blond hair, nice smile, and drunk green eyes – absolutely his type. She wanted him. She really did. So, he let her hit on like he always does. Good sex can never cause a threat, you know.

She treated him well. Jaskier didn’t know why he noticed that but he did. She was gentle and slow, getting sure they both would have their part of pleasure. Usually, Jaskier is in charge in his one-night stands but this time he gave her a chance to take control.

“You didn’t ask my name,” she said, suddenly letting his cock out of her mouth.

“W-what?”

“You didn’t ask my name,” she repeated.

“Oh… I’m… I’m sorry I…”

“Don’t be, dear. I didn’t ask your name either. My name is Jane.”

“Jaskier,” he said after a few seconds, a little bit confused.

“Nice to meet you, Jaskier,” she smiled playfully and continued sucking his dick.

The bard felt confused just for the next few seconds but pleasure made him forget about that pretty fast. It’s not too strange to ask the name of a man whose dick you are sucking at this moment, is it? Everyone did it at least once, right?

Then Jane decided to ride him. He wasn’t against it. She felt… good. Like any pretty woman. She knew exactly what she was doing, and it was really attractive. Sometimes Jaskier loves not to be in charge and just take pleasure given to him by someone else. It was a good way to forget. Not to think about Geralt and Yennefer. And – for god’s sake – not to think about Yen riding Geralt’s cock just like Jane rides his.

The picture went through his mind really fast and it was so disgusting Jaskier almost lost all his sexual arousal. But suddenly Jane kissed him. Gently but with passion. She didn’t kiss him before, they were just having sex, so it was all of a sudden but he liked it.

So Jaskier closed his eyes and imagined Geralt kissing him like that. Kissing while riding his dick. Geralt’s moans with his deep voice… the bard is sure that would sound amazing. Unbelievably perfect. Right.

Picture which went through his mind this time was so bright, so wanted, and inaccessible that it made Jaskier cum really hard. It was literally one of the best orgasms he has ever got. With close eyes, dreaming about impossible… the bard suddenly felt so miserable he felt himself about to cry. Fortunately, he managed to get a grip before he opened his eyes.

Jane smiled, fixed her hair, and got off him.

“Was it… fine?” Jaskier asked when she lied down by his side. He got so distracted with his dreams so he felt unsure if she got her orgasm.

“It was… quite good actually,” she took a cigarette from the bedside table and lit it with a match. “You gave me a chance to be in charge and I highly appreciate it. Most of the men are too afraid of the idea of being dominated. Ugh… boring people.”

“Yeah,” the bard smiled. “They’re just too afraid of losing control.”

“Like everyone, dear.”

They sat in silence for a while.

“So…”, started Jane, while lighting another cigarette, “It’s time to get to know each other better. It should be easier as we had sex already.”

“Is it really necessary?” Jaskier asked.

“Oh, you don’t want to?”

“No! No, I mean… you don’t have to do it just because we had sex. Quite good sex, actually, but it’s not the point. It’s not your duty.”

“Of course, it’s not,” Jane smiled and put a cigarette to her lips, taking a deep breath. “I never do anything I have to. Just the things I want,” she exhaled. “So, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“How comes such a pretty boy has such a bad taste in women?” Jane asked, making the bard choke on air.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I have said.”

“Wait, I just… don’t understand. I've slept with you and now you're saying I have a bad taste in women?” asked Jaskier feeling confused.

“Yes. Yes, I do” Jane smiled. “You had known me for like two seconds and, when I proposed you sex, you agreed immediately”.

“But you are beautiful! Why should I have said «no»?”

The woman shook her head.

“It's not only about me, you silly bard. It's about every woman you have ever been with. I've heard about it pretty much. Rumors...” she pressed the end of a cigarette to her lips then exhaled. “They spread. Faster than you think.”

“So, you have known who I am when bumped into me in a tavern?”

“Not really. I was aware you look like this famous bard and you have a lute but I didn’t know for sure” Jane shrugged her shoulders. “Not before you said your name. But let’s return to the question I asked.”

“I don’t know what to answer. And what’s so bad about rumors? They make me popular among women... and men”, Jaskier smiled awkwardly. Actually, he didn't want to share his sexuality with his one-night-stand but it seems like he'd already done that.

“Do you think it's for good?”

“Sorry?”

“Being widely known as a good lover, not a good poet”, Jane explained. “Is this what you want? To be just another man who was quite good in bed and that's all?”

“Are you trying to insult me?”

“I'm trying to understand. And somehow prove you have a bad taste in women”, Jane chuckled.

“I do NOT have a bad taste in women. Stop repeating that!” Jaskier exclaimed.

“But it's true. You sleep with every woman who appears on your way. Old or young, virgin or whore... to you it doesn't matter, does it?”

“I think it... doesn't”.

“You are choosing everyone. It's not good taste, I swear".

“What's it then?”

“You should ask yourself, not me. But it seems like it's just... loneliness”.

“Loneliness?” Jaskier asked.

“Yes,” Jane smiled kindly. “It's just loneliness which leads us in beds of strangers. We have sex and then we move on without even remembering their names. We break so many beautiful hearts of people who don't deserve it because ours have already been broken”.

She put the cigarette out and then threw it on the floor.

“We are living in a fucking nightmare”, added Jane quietly. “And destroy every person we touch”.

They both kept quiet for a while. The woman took a new cigarette from the box, stood up, and walked to the fire, giving Jaskier a great view of her naked body. She was beautiful and he couldn't deny it. But also, she was smart.

The bard didn't like to admit it but he always was somehow afraid of smart people. They analyze him. They look deeply into his soul without any permission and reveal secrets he didn't think he had.

“If we have this kind of conversation anyway,” said Jane, forcing Jaskier to look at her again. “Tell me... is there someone who you secretly in love with? Oh... and don't look at me like that, dear. I just wanna understand how many things we have in common”.

“No”, answered the bard immediately.

Jane smiled. “You're terrible liar, Jaskier. At least now.”

“Oh, well... there is someone.”

“Someone who broke your heart but you still love him with all the pieces, I guess”, the woman lighted her cigarette.

“How did you know it's him?”

“I didn't. It was just a guess and you proved it", Jane pressed the end of a cigarette to her lips. “So what is his name?”

“Geralt of Rivia.”

“Is it that man you always sing about? Everyone knows him as a White Wolf or something like that,” the woman asked, slowly returning to bed.

“Yes’.

“Oh, I'm sorry’.

“Why?”

“Because I know this kind of men. They are brave and lovely and beautiful... and absolutely insensitive when it comes to the affairs of the heart. He could accidentally break your heart and still don't know he did it.”

“Are you saying that Geralt doesn't have feelings?” Jaskier chuckled. “It's just a stupid myth about the witchers”.

“No, you didn't get it. I say that Geralt... ugh, I didn't think it would be so hard to talk about,” Jane looked at the bard before she sat at the corner of the bed. “I say that witchers are bad when it comes to feelings. They don't know how to love. They are not emotionless, they are just... inexperienced. I'm not sure it's the right word but still. They don't want to cause hurt. But they make mistakes and break our hearts just because they don't know how to do it right. And it is... the saddest thing I have ever understood.”

“Some witcher also broke your heart, didn't he?”

“Yes. And I thought I was fine until I've found myself hanging around and sleeping with strangers”.

“So, you think there is no chance I will be happy with Geralt?” Jaskier asked and it seemed like a very important question to him.

“Depends on you”.

“How so?”

“If you are ready to teach him how to love and let him break your heart again and again and again with his somehow stupid mistakes... well, maybe you'll have a happily ever after. I don't know.”

“You don't seem happy.”

“I didn't try. I’ve failed before I even started. But you can succeed.”

“You think so?”

Jane smiled kindly. “I'm sure you can. It's about patience... and love probably, but... you won't succeed if you aren't patient enough.”

“Are you still in love?” asked Jaskier after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Huh?”

“Are you still in love with your witcher?”

The woman smiled again but there was a pain behind her smile. “I wanna say I'm not but that would be a lie.”

“What's his name? Maybe... maybe I know him.”

She waited for a couple of seconds. “Lambert. He's son of a bitch but I had fallen for him without even noticing. And then it was too late.”

“What happened between you two?” asked Jaskier. Maybe it was quite inappropriate question, but he wanted to know.

“He cheated on me. And then again. And again and... He shattered my heart into pieces and I ended this relationship because I was nearly to end myself. I'm in love with him but he didn't worth my death. I still have some kind of self-respect, you know.”

“He absolutely did not worth your death. You're an amazing woman. You can find someone better.”

“As well as you, dear. But here we are, talking about our broken hearts.”

Jaskier wanted to answer something but he couldn't find any proper words. Because Jane was right and he understood that. They both can find someone who will love them, who will care about them, who won’t break their hearts.

Oh, no, it’s not right. Truth be told, it always was a dead-end journey and they still took it. They chose the most painful path. They made their hearts bleed, all by themselves. And now they have to pay the cost.

Jane took his hand, forcing Jaskier to look at her again. “Does it feel like hell when you think about him?” she asked.

“Yes, it does”.

“Do you like it?”

Jaskier swallowed loudly, “Yes, I do.”

You can find the next chapters here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29364243/chapters/72132126#workskin

[kendrixtermina]

Now here's an all new theory for where the procrastination comes from

Like the uni councilors thought of like generic selfhate insecurity or like spineless ppl pleasing (nope an anime cured me of that when I was 13 - thst sounded more like what that ladys own problems might be), fear or failure & wanting to spite my father, eveb that getting ahead through "talent" was an unfair advantage bad tainted and evil, or that "talent" meant being beholden and controlled by others (definitely somewhat right - we worked on that, it helped, the second guy was defs much much more helpful & compatible cause he focussed a lot more on strategies than wannabe-maternal pep talks) but there was always something else there that wasnt getting touched

In tje end I dont think I have talent and in any case what really matters is attitude toward "living the examined life" for example whst you do. What you notice.

Now I did notice that things get harder to do precisely because I actually want them(whereas a lot of ppl get distracted from stuff because they dont really want it) - at the same time I can totally function or pick up new habits in day to day life its not like I have some "hardware problem" like, say, ADHD or the like.

Like of course its some emotional knot it couldnt be anything else but I feel they didnt identify what kind of knot? Certainly not that first lady. If im trying to get clarity and you give me reassuring pep talks you just freak me out more for the love of god tell me whats happening. Nothing worse when a Doctor says "it will be over soon" rather than explain the procedure

Fear of/ distraction from wanting itself never really occured to me thats not a common stereotypical fear that ppl talk about.

Let me get this straight I never thought I was better than anyone I knew very well that I'm not. I thought of both those things as ways not to get bullied, maybe get somewhere where I feel that im in the right place.

If I look back at really breaking experiences it was times I really really wanted something and then I couldnt do it or some outside party stepped on my fingers. That Tori Amos Music Video where she escapes from a psycho killer's trunk and then the passerby's dont help her? That was my most favorite music video in the world for years maybe still is.

Like I was told I could maybe skip third grade and I poured all my energy and passion and strenght into that everything I had to do well, make friends with the new class i was so highly motivated I aced all the exams I felt so happy & fulfilled just being in thst flow state all the time... i wanted this more than anything. Maybe it was the first time I really wanted something beyond vague dreams or base desires. But the homeroom teacher hated my guts and put the kibosh on that; Probably because I was unwittingly repeating some of the artogant classist shit my father spouts without realizing how hurtful it is. my parents thought it wasnt worth going to the higher ups for that but having to essentially redo 4th grade in a crap school in the different town we moved to was one of the worst times of my life. Also I didnt find out that the teacher had hated me/acted in a petty way until years after I thought I just failed. That there was a possible place I could have belonged but turns out I really belong nowhere after all.

All my effort was for nothing. It was such a joy - i mean these days even getting code to work or solving math problems has that same joy - but all that effort and joy and wanting did was that... im tearing up and searching for the words to even process this tbh. I think I denied that joy, told myself that I was just a stupud kid thinking I was a special snowflake. It didnt even matter.

Rather than insist on staying up late to make sure my homework was done I just stopped caring and hardly did another piece of homework in my life just faking it on the spot or coasting through. It could have gone another way maybe if it werent for the bullies and my father the chief bully or if only I was more determined but it was like "okay I dont care anymore I just dont care" and I think thats stayed my default response to dissapointment to this day.

This TV show didnt turn out like I wanted? I dont care its just a tv show.

My father treated be with hatred all my life? Its okay I dont care about him and I dont want his love anyway.

Like there were other times when I thought I could be happy.

Like I really wanted to go to this boarding school for gifted kids. Again I thought maybe incorrectly that this would be a place where I can belong and not be bullied it was never about being better than anyone.

Again I wanted it I clamored and cried and made noise nonstop. Maybe I still hadnt wholly lost contact with willpower back then. I still thought of myself as strong willed.

And my father made me regret it. It was around the same time that mom briefly considered divorce maybe I was just the stress valve. Or he took it personally as wanting to get away from him. Duh he abused me of course I wanted away from him. He was such a suffocating control freak! Mom said yes first then he spoke to her and suddenly she followed everything he said. Thats when I really realized how emotionally manipulative was how abusive... i mean one of my first conscious memories of him is thinking "oh crap I will be just like cinderella" but he really laid it on so thick so transparently even a 10 year old could tell its manipulation. If you do this you dont love your mom. If you do this you dont love your siblings. If you dont obey me your mom will kill herself. No she wont you jerk even my 2 year old self could tell youre abusive.

The most cruel thing he did was briefly say yes. Again I got so happy. So invested. Just bending all I was towards that even though he bombarded me with abuse and mental torture.

And then on the day we were supposed to leave he said no youre not going.

Maybe I actually did say I didnt want to go because of one time he was doing this constant scientology type torture on me

That same reaction: "I dont want it I dont want anything so please please let me be"

Ppl think of bad childhoods as a game that you win if yoz turn 18 -or 28 maybe - without killing yourself. But its not. Every year you live it can take away from your potential. Every day less than you have to live it

He sure didnt let me have sucess with his overcontrol and abuse. Anything I was proud of he rules. When I graduated from school with a fairly good but not perfevt final score he humiliated me. When I turned 18 he humiliated me. Everything I did was a burden even just feeding and washing me. Hed give me unwanted white elephant gifts then bitch about how giving them to me ruined his life cause he had to work so muxh "Ingrate Ingrate Ingrate" Butch I never asked for anything I want nothing!

But as I had to eat I did in fact have to ask things of him and I hated it so much.

No wonder that I turned out afraid of wanting things eh?

Hed seen some poster when we went to see tje school I wanted to go to - not by the school by an individual student - about the history of abortion portrayed in a positive way or at least that was his official reason why I couldnt go. Again I had wanted something badly with all my being and again all my being availed nothing. Irrelevant like I didnt exist. All my screaming gone unheard.

And this is so silly cause im not a child anymore I have control and if I were to stop procrastinating I could have money and gave even more control.

I havent even spoken to him in years now hes no longer relevant. Its not about him its about thus bad pattern I picked up.

I like how this books handles it with the idea that certain experiences dont create the type but that it nakes you uniquely suceotible to certain kinds of hurt or certain misunderstandings.

Because with all this discourse about bad message free media ive really come to think that while it can and should be minimized its not possible to eradicate cause human mibds are so quicl so fallible to extract overgeneralizations and make it mean something abput themselves

Like an immature statistical learning model easily overtrained by noisy data.

Another time I was nearly happy was when I started looking for work, doing my thesis...

Same pattern I was engaged, happy to be engaged talking to ppl at both work and in the uni work group loving it all so much...

my life had started to feel meaningful again. And it had gotten to that point in part because of my ex-fiance. Yes the councelling heloed taking up meditation helped, getting high on morning glory that one time helped a whole lot got more self esteem from that than I ever got from my father.

But that all started because of my ex fiance.

He was an i tellectual type and he had a sense of purpose about him like hes a legendary character and everyone around him became legendary too. And he found me useful! Others had called me "walking dictionary" with mockery and scorn he called me his google and it meant love and admiration. Maybe I got a bit of an ego trip off of tjat but I also really stupidly dumbtastically loved him I bragged of him to anyobe who listened everything he did seemed fascinating abd interesting and meaningful, but also I just loved the sweet gentle warmth of being next to him in the morning. Once again I was happy and everything was joyful even when it was hard, I felt strong and meaningful and useful and I let myself openly want things.

And then it all blew up. Worse yet i was so mistaken abozt him it really shook my confidence in my own judgement or any sense of clarity. I was si confused during the fucking breakup like I hadnt been since I left my father's house.

Google hah! More like his personal Alexa! It turns out he didnt respect or like me at all.

I couldnt even be sad or angry cause it was all my mistake. The one feeling I allowed - and even that took me weeks to identify - is dissapointment. Heavy leaden dissapointment i didnt even kniw that was a feeling you could feel so strongly. I didnt even do anything wrong you have to open yourself to have love. He could habe choosen to love me he just simply didnt. He probably thought he did but he wouldnt evebn do something as simple as not make fun of my voice or clean when I am sick.

Once he started putting me in the "wife" role he just became unable to see me. His loss really cause I think he wanted to keep me from all those annoying texts and email he had the nerve to write.

By all means I was right to trust but also right to leave later but still my sense of certainty and purpose and meaning was totally shaken. He did the sort of romantic stuff I didnt think was real. I knew I loved him when we had this conversation about water on mars. He got me the perfect books for my birthday! He said I was pretty and a genius and looked just like an actress. He got me this titanic esque heart pendant with stars. We were stuck at midnight in a train station that one time and he pulled out a picnic rug two plastic glasses and a shampain bottle. It never worked out but he said he might take me to see the LHC! I really thought we would be buried in the same hole folks!. He had read that same steven Hawkings book that I loved. One of the rather few books he actually read as I would find. Sigh.

And I fell right back into that same old pattern. Dont care about anything dont want anything it would be stuoid unrealistic and silly to want.

When I first came to uni I also had this feeling of hapiness and belongingness and wanting, I was putting in an effort, talking to ppl more.. and when things went wrong the slightest bit I pulled by hand back from that like from an open flame.

And here I am years later most the sucess or contact I get is comments on my fanfictions.

I thought I was doing that, or drawing, because its Stakes/Evaluation-free (going by the fear of failure theory) or because at least with the ffs gratification/payoff for effort is immediate compared to original stuff or uni work. Its a nice little niche at least.

I mean I do care about it its not "just" distraction but maybe ive been profaning it in that way... and so etimes I dont even do that and go for full unadulterated undebatable distraction; Line to 7 I guess. Tje only reason I spoke face to face to anyone else than the delivery guy this week is that I had some doctors appointments.

But not its distraction from stuff Im too lazy to do or even from pressure like I always thought. But from wanting things.

So the original fiction went great while it was a distraction from school not so much when its one of the things I most want and actually have the time to do it.

Even thought thats the most practiced skill I have that I never stopped working on since I was 10. 🤦‍♀️

I mean they already explained that its basically like meditation. Or weeds. Or popup ads. Youve got to click them away as they pop up.

I always told myself thst I didnt have to be happy... and thats not even untrue actually but it would sure be neat to be happy again one of these days.