#if i need to be educated about it or said something ignorant im very sorry!!

[tojisun]

the hand that feeds you

— “i take care of her, s’all.”

johnny mactavish x f!reader

cw: 18+ work - minors dni; age difference; daddy issues (kinda the central plot); cooking as a love language; slow burn but in high speed; a breath of angst; power imbalance; canon divergence - regular/non-military life au // amazing divider by @gildui! // 6.5k words

extra notes: this is a very self-indulgent work. there are holes in the plot, 100%, so ignore those holes pretty pls </3 also ik this is more of a captain johnny-verse but midway through, i started projecting so i might’ve written him incorrectly and im really sorry for that!!

being roommates with johnny is not as weird as it is; he’s amicable, at first, then full blown nice when days passed. he’s not loud, per se, but there’s always a constant chatter streaming from his space, like he physically can’t sit still through the silence which is great because you don’t fare any better with the stillness too, so reminiscent of how it was in the suburbs.

you moved to a neighbourhood just skirting past the inner city just because it’s a lot cheaper. but even then, rent was always high and your little box in a rundown complex wasn’t going to sustain you forever even if you wished it would. then, an opening in johnny’s townhouse was posted, almost half-price than whatever is up in the market, and it’s great despite your skepticism. hell, it’s more than great — it’s lifesaving.

your shitty job at the bookstore really can’t cover much of your expenses anymore, and sure student loans and the grant is great, but the growing debt makes you wince so it’s whatever at this point. you’re about to graduate soon anyway, pooling work experience from volunteering and club organizations, and it’s not like you can even go back to how it was.

(underway to law school, primed up before your father’s scrutiny but the burnout got to you before you could even write the LNAT. you realized that being a barrister wasn’t really what you wanted so you changed programs, midway, and switched to children’s education.

god, the disappointment in your pa’s eyes was so big, you knew to pack your shit before he could even kick you out.)

it’s… tough.

god, is it tough. none of your old friends and colleagues could stay in contact, which you don’t hold against them because most of them, by now, have graduated and entered law school. you’re straggling about two years back because of the switch in programs, and everything’s gone too tight. your budget. your social life.

your dating life.

johnny often distracts you from it all — he works in downtown, in one of those high-rise buildings often reserved for limiteds or holding companies, and has to travel off the city every three months. he makes good money, he said jovially, and you know it’s a nudge as to why your portion of the rent is cheap in the first place.

when you finally bit the bullet and asked why he put up one of the rooms in the market, johnny just shrugged and said he needed someone to house sit but sort off permanently. said something like last time he left, the pipes bursted and he couldn’t really fly back to help with the repairs.

it’s great being with him. he’s bright and bubbly, but also dependable in ways you never really thought about. like—

well, it’s all mundane things so listing them feels embarrassing, and it makes you feel as though you’re a touch-starved damsel and johnny just so happened to be the next older man to give you any attention and his time. but you can’t help it. god, you can’t help preen at the way he exists beside you.

he’s just so… beautiful, is what it is.

rugged and charming and loud and filling. the townhouse is too big for the two of you, but johnny makes it work. makes it feel like the two of you just fit into each other’s spaces.

early mornings are spent with him lilting between english and scottish, his exhaustion plastered onto him even after he’s downed two cups of coffee. he bumps his hip onto yours when he ambles out to prepare for his work, grumbling something like good morning and how’re you. afternoons are more lively and productive; it’s of you coming back from campus at six in the evening only to find him in the kitchen, fixing up dinner. it’s always something fancy and rich in flavour; something he always eats with wine on the side.

you, uh, you never thought he could actually cook, let alone feed himself well, but there he was, always a plate ready for you too like it’s expected that you’ll eat dinner with him. like spending time with him was just natural — the sky is blue, the ocean’s deep, and you and johnny fall into each other like there is an invisible string pulling you close to him.

it’s a beautiful change of pace, and there are more days now when you can breathe in a little easier, and you know it’s all because of johnny. it’s all him who pulled you out of your slump and out of that darkness and gave you the room, literally, to grow.

he’s beautiful, but you’ve said that already, haven’t you? he’s just… so good to be with.

then, johnny began picking up and bringing some home.

.

the first time it happened was shocking, really.

you had an early morning, something that’s so murky now in your memories so you’re unsure if it was anything uni related or work related, just that it was five in the morning and you were clambering downstairs as quietly as you could. you rounded the length of the hallway from the platform to the kitchen when you ran into someone.

“steady,” she’d said, voice hoarse and loud in her shock too.

you yelled, jumping, arms swinging because was there an intruder, and it took johnny physically subduing you for you to calm down. looking back now, you burn in embarrassment, but then you had been so worried, your body wound up so tightly in your fear.

“shh,” johnny had murmured with that wry grin. “s’just me, lass.”

your eyes danced between him and the brunette — pretty even in her rumpled shirt, with long legs and a small waist — trying to understand what was going on. you are sure johnny had told you before that he wasn’t seeing anyone so who—

“your girlfriend?” she asked johnny, turning to him with her lips pursed and her brow cocked up.

the question settled in your stomach, doing wonders to your already-fragile psyche. you’d just spent hours thinking about johnny and what he meant to you; what living with him meant. how it eased up something carved within the trenches of your being, like you’d always been waiting for someone like him.

the question was a reminder, like prickling you with icicles, leaving you to navigate the swoop. but johnny had laughed, nothing mean but so dismissive that you felt the curl of shame brandishing from the base of your spine like johnny was laughing at you.

“oh, nah,” he replied, arm still slung over your shoulders. “she’s sorta my ward, yes? i take care of her, s’all.”

that’s all. you’re nothing more to him but a ward. a tenant. not even a friend—

she hummed, then leaned over to kiss johnny, her eyes still drawn to you like she’s watching, waiting for a reaction, and when she got none, she trudged to the door. you and johnny watched as she bent down to slip in her shoes, some stilettos with red bottoms, before wordlessly disappearing into the darkened morning.

“pretty,” you chirped, trying to break the tension of whatever that was.

johnny laughed in that way that surely crinkled his eyes, only to steer the conversation away by asking why you were up early. you remembered what you had to do and you dived to the kitchen in a flurry, chatting about the deadlines and due dates — so it was a school thing — and johnny just watched, silent, humming, eyes still curved in his glee.

you left no sooner than his… paramour did and, for a while, that was that.

but your semester is coming to a close and your schedule is changing, but so is johnny’s. he’s coming home later and later, but always seemed to offer apologies in the form of easy-to-microwave meals for your dinner. they’re still homemade, probably cooked up in the morning before he left for work, and you’d messaged him to say that he didn’t need to worry about you. that, sure, you came to him amidst financial struggle, juggling work and school, and trying to decide if you would have to starve this month because of rent, but you can cook. for yourself and for him too.

johnny’s face did a terrible thing when you mentioned that in person, the first in a while after things got hectic.

“what,” you bit out, embarrassed.

“nothing,” he said, blinking like he was realizing things he shouldn’t. “s’fun doing things f’r you.”

then he clamped up, spooning soup into his mouth, some of it messily dribbling into his chin. it’s not like you were doing any better, with how your throat closed up at his words, eyes going wide.

it’s been a thing, is what it is, but neither of you two have ever acknowledged that it’s a thing. it’s been a wordless experience — of johnny taking over things when it comes to the house because of course he will, it’s his home, but he always covers things for you too. things you’re sure normal landlords don’t really worry about, but not johnny.

there’s always extra food in the kitchen, extra blankets when the weather dips. there’s even a new cooling machine for the summer even though you know johnny’s room already has an installed air conditioning. he’s even changed the seats in the dining room because he caught you once hitting your hip after an all-nighter on a project.

then, he refurbished the den to make it your office.

“you didn’t have to,” you told him, mind racing at your savings, wondering if he was going to increase your rent.

johnny just shook his head with an almost fond roll of his eyes and clapped your back, arm hovering there. “s’all yers, hen.”

everything he did always accounted for you. so why the women?

they’re all long limbed and trimmed waist, with eyes that sparkled even when all you’ve seen of them is always within the poorly-lit hallway. they have voices that curl teasingly, breathy like they’re enticing johnny for one more night. and they’ve always, always, treated you like a—

like a kid.

a burden, almost, of johnny’s.

and, hell, maybe you are. johnny’s almost twice your age; he’s also already well-established in his career, some senior position that you can’t really follow but one he talks about with fondness. he’s got land rover-money, the car in his garage big and black and almost military grade, and it looks so expensive especially beside the crappy civic you were able to snag for a cheap price because it’s got about three-hundred-thousand mileage already.

you’ve got nothing to give him, other than the lousy rent payment that he doesn’t even really need but is just asking for courtesy because it’d be so weird for him to offer a room, or two now given you have the den too, for free. you’ve got nothing on your name, and if it isn’t pity that makes johnny care for you, then you don’t know what.

maybe his string of one-night stands are right — you are just a kid.

that maybe you really are still too wet behind the ears for the real world that you go running to the next person that could protect you from it, stumbling into his life and licking up every drop of his attention, mistaking his kindness for devotion. his care for love.

.

you should have known, then, that the thoughts would ripple, leaving you to feel like the days are unnavigable. obsession quickly took root, growing fangs, and it ensnared you; a vice noose at what had been a pleasant coexistence.

hell, you can barely stand being with johnny because of the jealousy. it’s a shameful thing, but a part of you thinks you deserve johnny more than the others do.

you tell yourself that nobody knows about johnny’s nightmares and the horrors that spill from his lips when it’s twelve in the morning and the two of you have hit the bourbon. you tell yourself that nobody knows about johnny’s aversion to the windows in the living room; that the reason why the curtains are a deep green is not to match the new plants he’s allowed you to fill up his home but because they shroud the panels more than the cream ones had. you tell yourself that nobody knows that johnny can sing; that he can cook a mean tomahawk; that he likes reading; that his wrists were hurting so he’s currently scheduled for a surgery; that he’s soft to you.

the women don’t know this johnny, you tell yourself, nails clawing at the hems of your chest. they don’t know him the way i do.

it’s a pathetic whisper. it’s so laughable. so juvenile.

they’re right. they’re right.

(you’re just a—)

“i don’t see you anymore,” johnny murmured one morning, when things have gone quiet again, a cup of coffee sitting on the counter while he watches you throw orange peels into the garburator.

he just got back from a work trip in aberdeen, his exhaustion loud on his face. his hair is overgrown, the bottom ends of his mohawk curling along his nape. he was there for over three weeks, skirting almost close to a month — the longest he’s ever been away — and you had tried so hard not to message. not to drop casual check-ins because you’re sure no tenant ever does that to their landlord, but johnny had remained just as friendly; asking things like if you wanted another potted plant, a monstera or a dragon tree, or if you still had that swiss chocolate he brought home as a gift, or—

the list of his questions grew, but you’ve given him clipped replies, not knowing how to act right anymore since your quiet realization. even the “thing” that you thought you shared with him had fizzled at the drop of the women coming-and-leaving, and you are left to pick up the pieces.

it’s not like you’re broken or ruined or angry. god, no you aren’t.

but you feel unsteady, like now that you know that you liked him more than he liked you, you forgot how to breathe. how to live without that looming burden because your affection is nothing but a burden.

what will johnny do if he finds out? you can’t afford a new place to move into, not when you’re so close to graduating, the finish line just about to graze your very fingertips with how near it is. money is still tight, and johnny has already spoiled you rotten. has shown you how it is to live a comfortable life. and if he learns of your feelings, you would lose this. more than anything, you would lose him.

so you detached yourself from the noose, curling into yourself and using his work trip as a way to move on.

jesus — move on, huh? like there was a ‘you and johnny’ to even move on from. like there was anything there to read. like there was anything there to pull away from; twitching fingers drawing back into the spaces of your ribs, tucking yourself away from his warmth.

“i’ve been so busy, john,” you muttered, just as tired.

“yeah?” he said, still light. still jovial. “let me cook something nice for ye, huh? reward yer hard work and all.”

“i can’t.” you swallowed down the prickle lodged in your throat, eyes ducking away to avoid seeing his. “i’ve got a meeting with the club.”

(you missed the way johnny’s smile dipped.)

“oh,” he said.

you shrugged, internally wincing at your weak attempt at being normal, before gathering your thermos and your messily-wrapped sandwich. johnny was still standing by the counters when you turned around from the sink, his bulk so close to yours in ages. it had been so long since you could just reach over and feel his warmth; feel the soft pudge of what once were hardened muscles.

he’s looking at you with such sad eyes that it’s jarring to truly see because he’s looking at you like—

like he’s losing you.

“i’m gonna…” you trailed off, not really knowing how to end this truly awkward interaction.

“yeah, f’course,” he croaked out. “take care of yerself huh, lass?”

“thanks.” the smile on your face felt more like a grimace. “see you.”

he said nothing more after that, his eyes still searching; still furrowed like something’s changed and something’s happening, and it made your stomach drop because please. please don’t let him notice.

but johnny just watched as you went, his coffee all forgotten.

(something bloomed in the soft press of your heart, flickering like a young ember. you’ve never realized how longing could feel like your mouth is stuffed with cotton.)

.

johnny hasn't picked up since his return from aberdeen.

they’re getting a new firm so the shuffling has been brutal, leaving johnny to clamber out at five in the morning before coming back home when it’s pushing 11pm. the scruff on his face is becoming more unkempt, salt and pepper becoming more intense, but even then, he’s never looked more ruggedly beautiful as he is now.

it’s like he’s aged years and you shouldn’t be reacting so strongly to the change, but looking at johnny now makes you ache in a different way — core throbbing, throat parched and eyes stinging as you watch him. you’re so drawn to his gravitational pull, unable to detangle yourself now that it feels like he’s more back in your life than he ever was.

and you know it’ll end up hurting you. that you’ll go back to isolating yourself at the drop of a new girl in the house, the smell of her chanel or bvlgari perfume filling up the crevices that you’ve dutifully dusted every saturday morning while johnny’s out for a run. he’s made having casual lovers a cycle, one that you cannot blame him for because johnny doesn’t like you back.

but johnny’s been so attentive to you these days. he’s been a hovering presence even when he looks like he’s one blown wind away from passing out in his exhaustion, his warm hand always on the small of your back as he walks you to the door before chirping a hearty, “kick ass, bon!”

he’s back to fixing up food for you, like that blip in your schedule got him all creative because now, it’s not even just dinner. you’ve got breakfast waiting for you in the microwave, and packed lunch already in your bag, carefully tucked beside the manila folders and plastic envelopes for your capstone. it’s like he’s making up for something which is dumb and wrong because now, you’re all swooping stomach and prickling lungs.

“yummy?” johnny asked, catching you wriggling in excitement at the flavour bursting into your tongue.

your cheeks tingled, feverish, before giving him a shy nod.

he huffed, something so achingly fond, and rested his chin atop his crossed arms. you didn’t know what to focus on — the scruff on his face or the hard lines of webbing veins spilling from beneath his folded sleeves. then, he crooned, “good. that’s good.”

you ran upstairs to your room, throwing an excuse about finishing up your paper, before locking the door, and feeding your cunt two fingers to satiate the burn. the stretch was delicious, raw and sweet, and you humped your wrist, trying to douse the flames burning you up.

you thought of johnny, of the way he looked and how much nicer he’s been; of johnny and the way he was so kind to you, so caring like you’re up in his priority list again, overtaking his busy schedule and the firm restructuring, and his needs.

your orgasm felt like a ripping of reality, your mind splintering at the edges as you’re stretched thin. it felt like you’ve been pulled taut, then released with a resounding snap. it felt euphoric, like the explosion of something intoxicating. something wickedly addicting.

you knew that this could never be unmade. your affections had grown their tendrils, curling past the quiet admiration and spiralling into something unforgiving. into something greater than yourself.

“fuck,” you had rasped out, eyes prickling with tears as shame rushed into your chest. “fuck.”

you didn’t need this. you didn’t need any of this.

but it becomes a cycle — wash, rinse, repeat.

johnny continues to go unshaven; continues to pour his attention to you. and you soak it up, needy and soft, unable to turn away with your tail tucked between your legs. you fall back to the ease of how it had been, hip bumping his, morning coffee shared in the silence, dinner a filling affair once more. all that’s changed are the lingering looks, the resonating touches.

how johnny’s wide hand falls to the small of your back more often; how his fingers just slots against yours every time he passes you your cup; how his eyes rove over your face, always searching for something you dare not hope for.

the last time he flicked his eyes down to watch the way your tongue lapped at your lips, swiping away at the extra cream, johnny’s pupils had constricted before a quiet groan rumbled from his throat. your thighs had quickly clenched close as heat exploded in the pit of your belly, spreading like wildfire through your veins. the pressure on your nub made you hiccup, like a whine dragging itself from your trachea, and johnny had snapped his eyes back to yours so quickly, it made you heady.

“bon–”

“i have to go,” you murmured, clamouring to shaky legs.

you fucked yourself to a deafening point once more, ears ringing as you squirted, the gush of your slick pushing past your fingers. you had to gnash your pillow cover to muffle the moan rumbling from the base of your throat, trying desperately to be good. to not be heard. to be better.

but johnny’s burning gaze on your lips was seared into your memory, blazing on top of everything, and you imagined—

god, you imagined.

the way he’ll take you — beard rough on your chin, thicker fingers spreading you wider, reaching deeper, before finally filling you up with all of him, bullying the whole length of his cock until he bottoms out.

you pressed on your stomach, dizzy, thinking about how johnny would hit that far. you know he would. the women he’s slept with have told you, anyway, in passing, describing how he was in bed with dreamy sighs like they weren’t still reeking of sex and johnny’s aftershave.

(you still wonder why so many of them were mean, their noses tipped up every time they saw you. they were the ones that johnny chose, the ones who were fortunate enough to have been his lover, so you wonder why they still sought you out like you were competition.)

“johnnyyyy!” you moaned, loud and long, your fingers prodding at your walls, and you knew that you’d regret the wrangled cry later, but you didn’t care then, too busy swimming in the aftermath of your orgasm.

.

but johnny heard it anyway.

he told you that he had heard you. 

it happened so quickly — one moment you were bent over the espresso machine, fiddling with the levers with bleary-eyed attempts, then the next thing you knew was that johnny was crowding you, trapping you between the warm bulk of his body and the counter, his eyes furrowed so deeply which made the lines on his forehead run much deeper.

“whu’?” you asked, blinking tiredly at him.

johnny just did this shaky breath that rattled his whole body, like he was propped up by a couple of sticks instead of his whole mass. the mood shifted with that weak inhale though, and you turned to fully face him, ignoring the beeping machine because johnny was still looking at you with those eyes.

the ones that made you feel seen, read, and laid bare before him. like he could weave his eyes past the fabrics of your shirt to peek into the very jagged shards of your heart and see the cross that you’ve been carrying. like he knew things about you that he shouldn’t.

“johnny?” you prodded again, finding his silence alarming.

“yer too young for me, m’eudail,” johnny finally rumbled out, voice thick and deep.

and it’s—

what.

your mind was pressing into your skull, trying desperately to link your synapses together; for the fog to clear and for your coherence to rise above the pull of drowsiness, but johnny was faster. like now that he’s said the first words, the rest just follow, unstoppable in their force and in their meaning.

“i told myself i couldn’t,” he murmured, still breathing shakily; gaze still too fragile. “that yer lookin’ for nothin’ like me, and that yer just tryin’ to get out there with yer career.”

he lifted a hand, fingers twitching, before balling it back down to a fist.

“told myself i’ve gotta let go. found a way to cope and shit.”

johnny took another ragged breath in, and it startled you into gulping one of your own — you didn’t even realize that you’ve held your breath as he spoke to you, your chest clenching tightly as your mind began to link the passageways together, filling you in on what he wasn’t really saying.

“but carin’ f’you was so easy. christ, it was even delightful, hen.” he chuckled, something that was somewhat raw and pained.

you licked at your lips, blinking wide eyes open. johnny tracked the movement, his nose flaring like you’ve done something more than a subconscious thing, his shoulders going taut.

“i like doing all sorta things for you. liked seeing y’eat what i cooked; liked seeing y’use what i got f’you. liked watching y’come home to me. to me.”

a soft sound echoed between the two of you, and it took you an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was a breathless whimper that petered out from the base of your throat. you didn’t even realize that you’ve curled into yourself, almost like you’re trying your best to shrink before johnny, and johnny crooned.

callused palm cupped the round of your cheek, his thumb swiping just underneath your eye. “told myself yer too young; that surely yer looking for someone closer to yer age, but bon, i heard y’last night.”

you startled in his hold, a quiet gasp piercing through the heat. johnny’s lips danced with mirth.

“s’right. heard a loud thump against the wall and ran upstairs, all worried, but guess my surprise, yes? y’were moanin’ my name so loudly, it’s like y’left yer door open.”

“johnny, i–”

“tell me,” he said, moving closer, his chest pressing against yours. “tell me t’stop, bon, an’ i will. but y’ve got to tell me. y’ve got to push me away.”

you looked at him, your eyes trembling at what he was laying out thickly, and your throat going parched at the blanketing desire rippling from him. there were so many things you wanted to ask, but his breath was tickling the bridge of your nose, dancing so close to the bow of your lips, and your heart ached.

desire coursed through you in waves, dribbling from the cup, and you lurched forward, chasing after his lips.

johnny melted into you. his hesitant touch turned greedier, more possessive, mapping your body and pulling you closer into him. his mouth devoured your own, gulping down the pleased little sighs and keens spilling from your lips. he kissed like a man starved, but you weren’t any softer; all nippy and desperate, fingers digging into his hair and fisting at the thin strands.

it was feverish, almost to a boiling point, and you needed more.

god, you needed more.

“johnny,” you mewled when he pulled away just enough to slide his damp lips along the cut of your jaw. “johnny, need you.”

“christ,” johnny sounded so wrecked, his voice rumbling deeply from where his lips were suckling on the soft curve of your neck. “i’ve been dreaming of this, mo luaidh. i knew i shouldn’t but yer so sweet to me and i– i wanted.” he said that word like it was dirty; like he’d been fighting tooth-and-nail to suppress it.

it made you tremble to hear how johnny desired you just as much. he had always felt unobtainable; always danced too far from your grasp and was always bigger than what you knew you could handle — his lovers had always looked divinely; pretty, yes, but fierce in their own right like they knew how to live without johnny; and you know they could, because they didn’t need johnny the way you do. they didn’t look at johnny like you do, like he hung the stars with those thick and aged hands of his.

but as you stood there, feeling every word punctured onto your skin, you couldn’t help but begin to cry, the tears springing from your eyes to slip down your cheeks. johnny rubbed your back, soothing and gentle. 

“i wanted t’take you – make y’all mine,” he whispered. 

you hiccuped, shaky from the weight of your hunger, and nuzzled close. your hands fell from fisting his hair so you could claw at the sharp corners of his shoulder blades, feeling the muscles there rippling, all taut when he bent forward and kissed you.

“please,” you began, feeling your mind thinning because you wanted more. more. more. more. “i can be– johnny, s’always been you. nobody else but you.”

you tugged him away, cupping his jaw and forcing him to look at you. and god, johnny looked so devastatingly beautiful, his eyes all furrowed and his cheeks all flushed, and his lips spit-sheened.

“fuck me,” you whispered, tired of dancing around.

he groaned, something that sounded so pained, before he was tugging you with him, up the stairs and skirting past your room and into his. 

you’ve never been in johnny’s room before, just as he had never been in yours since you moved in, and until now you still don’t know what you had been expecting upon walking in, but the smell of johnny wafting through was almost gut-punching. he smelled so close, like he was everywhere — surrounding you from the ground-up, dousing every pore with him until even your mouth felt full.

and johnny, he smelt like home. 

there were no more words uttered as he stripped you off your pyjamas, sure fingers making their way down the buttons, unlatching them from the hemmed slits. you watched with heavy eyes, blinking slowly like everything had been wrung out of you, leaving you pliant and soft. johnny hummed, appreciative, and mapped kisses from your heaving chest, teeth nipping at the fat, before moving on, sprinkling every expanse of your skin with such reverence. 

your hands were balled to your chest when he reached the jut of your belly, his chin hovering just above your crotch. johnny flicked up his darkened eyes at you, asking silently.

you gave him a nod, not trusting your own voice too.

johnny’s eyes had turned into slits, pleased, and hefted himself up just enough to be able to fit his hands on your hips and tugged your pants down. you shivered, the warmth in his room not enough to suppress the winter chill, and it made you buck into him. johnny comforted you with a quiet shh, rubbing his palm on the pudge of your thigh in soothing circles.

you don’t know why that touch was what did it for you, but soft sobs finally spilled from your mouth, scrunching up the desire into something undeniably frail. johnny didn’t startle though, like he knew that you had been wounding up to this tipping point, and instead continued to touch you tenderly, almost like if he could, he would cradle you close. 

“i love you,” you said, sniffling, because that was the crux of your vulnerability, right?

you love him. god, you love him. 

you’ve loved him since the day he sat you down for dinner and told you that you’ve got nothing to worry about, not anymore and not with him around. you’ve loved him since the day he flipped the den so you can have your own space for work; don’t mind the fact that he didn’t know if you were going to even stay, just that he insisted that you deserved that room either way. you’ve loved him since that swiss chocolate, since that cup of coffee, since he’s begun filling your painfully lonely days with his care. 

you’ve loved him since and now—

“oh, mo graidh,” johnny breathed out. “i love you too.” he kissed your thigh, scruff ticklish. “gu siorraidh is gu brath.”

you wanted to ask what that meant but johnny was already moving, sitting back up to strip out of his own shirt. you trailed your eyes down his body, capturing your trembling lips between your teeth at how breathtaking he was — soft with fat but still heavy with muscles, fuzzy with hair with the smattering pooling just underneath his belly button before trailing down to where they were hidden underneath his pants. 

you twitched before finally braving enough to reach out and brush your knuckle over the indents of his softened abs. johnny hummed, something that curled with appreciation, before covering your hand with his and holding it there. 

“all of me s’yers, hen,” he said with such finality that you felt it settle deep within the marrows of your bones. 

you nodded, emotionally spent and johnny lilted something else in scottish, so soft that it was almost a croon. you let him manhandle you — pushing your hips up so he could slot a pillow under for your back; you were so malleable to his touch as he took over, bending once again for a kiss while his fingers danced past the laces of your panties and into the damp heat of your pussy. 

you moaned, eyelashes fluttering when he pressed one in, so careful and slow, but you were so wet that it slid in with no resistance, gobbling it up knuckle-deep. johnny had groaned like he could feel your rising euphoria, before nosing along your temple as he wiggled the finger around, stroking at your walls. you wondered if he was going to tease but then he was pulling it out, only to plunge two in the next thrust, curling and stretching, and oh—

oh, ssss’good.

you don’t even remember how long he’d been spearing you with his thicker fingers, rough and long and reaching far, far deeper than you could with your own, but you laid there, sobbing, feeling your slick slip out, pooling, making a mess of your thighs and his sheets. johnny had moved from suckling on your neck to taking a nipple in his mouth, teeth softly gnashing at the bud. you felt like you were on fire, burning from your core, aching for a release. 

“cum f’me, m’eudail,” johnny groaned, breathless himself, his cock poking underneath his boxers, the fabric all wet from where his tip was, leaking pearled pre-. “let me see you.”

“johnny, i’m gonna– i’m–!” you squealed, legs jumping, squeezing johnny’s sides as you jolted, hips twitching at the bloating ecstasy. johnny just pushed down on your thigh, not letting up with the pace of his fingers. he was fucking you so hard that his hand’s slapping against your skin, his palm grinding down on your clit just right, and the pleasure sizzled into something biting. into something that was almost painful.

it was catastrophic, pulling you into two directions. johnny’s everywhere — his scent in your lungs, his fingers deep in your pussy, his mouth hot and wet on your tits, and like this, like this, you felt yourself breaking. 

ripping—

then, your orgasm was punched out of you. 

your senses had gone awry — throat throbbing as you cried out, your eyes going blind as they rolled into your skull at the final curl of johnny’s fingers. white noise filled your ears, and it was like you were submerged underneath water, wading through the crashing tides of your climax.

you came back to johnny peppering your face with soft kisses, whispering something you couldn’t decipher past the croon of your name and something like you did good and so beautiful. he’d already pulled his fingers out, and used both arms to cradle you close. you felt so empty — god, that wasn’t even his cock, yet — but your body thrummed pleasantly, almost like the itch was finally scratched. 

“johnny?” you puffed out, voice all scratchy and weak. 

“i’m here, bon. i’m here.”

you hummed, curling into his chest, head pillowed by his arm. you wanted to ask what about his own euphoria, but johnny seemed so content just laying there with you, not really desperate or needy, so you let it go, losing the battle against your drowsiness before finally slipping into a quiet sleep. 

.

johnny’s there for your graduation, carrying a big bouquet of only eden roses. you didn’t even know that those particular ones were expensive until someone from the graduation party oohed and aahed to their friend. 

your cheeks burned when their friend chirped, “well someone’s clearly loved.”

you know that what they said would have had johnny agreeing loudly if he was allowed in the lineup because he is never one to be shy about what he feels; or not anymore, anyway. he loves so fully and openly that you still wonder why it took the two of you so long to get together, but the days since then had just been kind and filling that you have long forgotten how it was to not be with him. 

they’re going to call your name soon, and your stomach swoops, excitement and anxiety mixing in a dizzying tandem. 

you’re graduating with a bachelor’s degree in psychology and a diploma in early childhood education, and this is not where you thought you would be when you first started university, but it’s the happiest you have ever been. and sure much of your poli-sci courses were scrapped when you changed majors, and that’s also a lot of money wasted, but you have three job opportunities lined up already and it’s like the seismic shift in your life had finally corrected itself. 

(your mom said she’s sorry that she and your pa couldn’t come, but you’ve stopped longing for their acceptance and told her it was fine.

there’s a date saved in your calendar, though, for a brunch with her and that was enough.)

you ducked into johnny’s arms when the graduation ceremony ended, careful of the bouquet he’s holding. 

“congratulations, bonnie,” he says, a hearty laugh rumbling from his chest. “christ, i’m so, so proud of you.”

you never pegged yourself for a crybaby, but tears begin to pool in the corners of your eyes at the weight of his words. 

“thank you,” you reply, soft and raw, and honest. 

johnny pulls you in, his lips warm as they’re pressed on your forehead. 

and this, just like this, you know things will only get better from here on out. 

[cosmotic12xii]

@weirdsillycreature pls dont ignore me im reuploading this because i think my request and message is somehow not visible for you because asstumblr can glitch and making bugs so very sorry for disturbing you but i cant do anything

"We have a lot of troubles with patients right now. Most of them are just unstable, uncontrolable. We was we sure that we could hand the whole mental hospital with ourselves, but now the other situation.

One gentleman named Valentine Butcher that previously sent a big numbers to support our asylum, is wrote me a letter when he was arguing about how he was wishing to help mentally disabled people even for free for last time and why we should approve him to work at/with us. And at the end of letter he placed his phone number and wrote that we can call him if we need new helpers. This is was timed well.

He was really polite while talking with me, even too polite. We are agreed that he will come to the hospital and show me his psychology and treatment education documents, and then the question about admiting him for this job will be closed.

As you can see, he was been accepted... On his fully responsibility is only one of the patient for now – Abie Kessil, but he is also should take a care for the other ones...

• About Abie himself, he is quiet but anxious. To be honest, I don't know, what happened to that guy, he seems to be not just scared, but really doomed here, so I deciced to gift him an plush bunny, that he's carrying with himself in every place he's going, and he even talked to me for a little bit, said that he likes animals and plush toys. He also started sleep better even without medicaments. I think Butcher would be easy with him...

But OK, so, I think I need to say, that I'm actually feel something weird about Valentine. I'm happy, that this man is got job, he is such a positive person, but it's just this suggestion was, roughly speaking, sudden. He was supporting our deal, but never working in it, before this he was a buisnessman and working as him for 9 years, after the time he sent money to us passed 6 years, but he deciced to work as caretaker for unstable people with himself now? Why? What is the reason of this? I'm just interested.

But so this is good deal. Maybe, we'll consider the variant to start founding professional doctors and nurses by announcement".

this all written by albert if something

spoiler valentine is actually an horrible in psychology and thinks that mental illiness are maded up just for justification so hes gonna act like the patients are pretenting to be poor and he would try to make them comunicate and making things that is dangerous for them and saying like you mr patient is normal NOOORMAAAL instead of treat them lmao and his documents are professionaly faked

Profile:

Name: Valentine Butcher:

Age: 44 years old:

Gender: Male:

Species: Human:

Nation: American:

Characteristics: Stubborn, dumb, caring, trustless.

Interests: Phillosophy, theorizing, science.

cccan he be iiin yyyour rrp univversse kkkanddie chchan

[nootthereststop]

Pt. 3 pookies sorry it i cant spell even thoigh english is my first language my typing is AWFUL.

Falsettos commentary: Trina edition

So i think its really understated the impact of religion on all the characters not just jason?

I would like to preface this post by saying this isnt a post about the flaws of religion, i have no problem with religion and i believe that it can be a lovely thing to be religious in some form if one is so inclined, scincere apologies if i mischaracterize any aspects of judaisim in this post, ive tried to educate myself on the little i do cover in this but i understand it would likely not be accurate, if i have said anything that doesnt seem right please let me know so i can fix it!

We see (especially in act two) how the cast is not very enamoured by the idea of religion in lines like "this is so much crap, throw a simple party, religions just a trap to ensnare the weak and the dumb" "(days like this) we ALMOST believe in god ect"

Trina is in my opinion most affected by a jewish upbringing. We see that in the expectations placed on her by her mother and father "i was sure growing up i would live the life my mother assumed id live, very jewish, very middleclass, and very straight" and of course her father indirectly forcing her into her first marraige which ended in divorce. A major aspect of the show is highlighting the glaring flaws in everyday people; how we manipulate and lie, "we are manipulating people and we need to know our worst sides arent ignored" . We see one of trinas "flaws" to be what she frames as some level of sexual frustration/ dependency, as alot of im breaking down explores her (lack of an) intimite relationship and the strain this puts on her, as her mind consistently defaults for sexual refrences and innuendos, sometimes to the point of objectifying herself, (something that we also see alot consistently throughout the show) "whos lusty and requires a fling with a female thing" "me im just a freak who needs it maybe every other week". As im not personally jewish I am very uneducated on jewish practices and belief systems HOWEVER many religions tend to have a very negative standing on sexual intimacy for the express purpouse of pleasure. This appears to cause trina to objectify herself as well as conform to the societal roles assigned to her, despite not really seeming to enforce them on others "he decides the role to assume". We see the pressure to conform to religious practices when jason doesnt want a bar mitzfah "not with g-ns but k-ll your mother rather than humiliate her" despite not really seeming to visit a synagouge or encourage aspects of religion such as prayer onto jason. I think this shows how her eeligion is so deeply engrained these practices are no more than habit and how disconnected she truly is from that religion

[banesberry-anomoly]

sorry about this,,, (about sending another ask,,,,)

what are endos and anti endos? i USED to be an anti endo but now i dont know if im anti endo or not.

- @ieaturanium

Sorry this took so long to answer, I was dealing with some other stuff and didnt wanna shortchange an explanation!

So, I'm a mixed origin system and I mainly identify that way because 1. were not entirely sure what the original reason for us becoming a system was, and we think it was multiple things that contributed to it, and 2. We have headmates from all sorts of origins due to being a very large system

And really it can vary! Some endo systems dont remember their trauma, but this isn't true for all of them and assuming can lead to them either trying to dig up trauma that they may not be ready to face or a headmate causing trauma for the system out of spite to prove a point. Ive heard of this happening many times, the former more so than the latter, and its very harmful when anti endos try to push and convince endos that 'Oh you just dont remember your trauma but I still think youre valid!' because of said reasons.

Some may caused by something that could be considered trauma (because trauma is nuanced and varies from person to person, it all just depends on how the brain reacts to something) but because of the nature of what it is the person either doesnt consider it to be trauma for whichever reason or feels more comfortable identifying as an endo sys. Stressgenic is one of those examples.

And then some may just not be caused by trauma at all, like willogenic systems or people that have 'artists muses' (aka their characters will write themselves or talk to them). There are many forms of plurality because it is a wide and varied experience, and not all of them are talked about. Artists muses tend to be the most common example. But not everyone knwos about or wants to self identify as plural, and thats totally fine!

Something I need to put an emphasis on is endo systems can still *have* trauma, and it could still cause headmates to form/split/etc, it just wasnt the original cause of their becoming a system. Just because someones an endo system doesnt automatically make them immune to experiencing traumas in the future that may or may not affect their plurality.

A lot of systems may have been affected and caused by their neurodivergence in some way, like us with our autism and wildly untreated BPD, and we had a lot of ""non standard"" trauma when we was younger which would probably get us fakeclaimed regardless. We dont feel comfortable fully identifying as traumagenic though for various reasons, including how toxic some of the community can be

The anti endo community doesnt only target endo systems, theres a lot that also target pro endo traumagenic systems for the same reasons. "Endos are hurting Traumagenic systems!!!!!!!" but then they go after those that support endos and its like wow, way to support the people you claim to protect. Ive seen traumagenic systems get their own trauma fakeclaimed and called an endo system as a 'justification' for getting harrassed

Endo systems have been fighting for the system community for *years*, dating back to around the 80s or 90s iirc, and so many terms come from endogenic parts of the community (like fictive and factive are two prominent examples!). Endos and pro endos provide sources in internet arguments arguing about their existence only to be ignored or told 'THOSE SOURCES ARENT VALID SOURCES!!!!!' even when theyre medically backed studies

Ive also seen anti endos argue on The Future Is Plural! posts because they think they want more children to be traumatized. This is not anywhere near case or point, which is to fight for more plural acceptance and make it a safer environment for people to explore their own plurality without getting harrased or judged for it

And just to clarify, I dont mind endo neutrals or people willing to learn interacting with me, as Im willing to help educate how I can! Just be respectful and anyone falling under those categories can stick around ^_^^

[etherealspacejelly]

I fear that i would be sad and becoming a hateful bigot that calls anything that’s different to the norm ‘bad’.How do i become not like this?

well i think the first thing to do is to throw out the idea that you have any clue what 'normal' even is! because none of us do!

normal is a very subjective term. it is affected by the country you grew up in, the culture and religion of your family, the media you consume regularly, the people you spend time with most often, the list goes on

you will never truly understand the vast extent of The Human Experience because there will always be experiences you cannot relate to or empathise with no matter how hard you try. so you need to get into the mindset that Every Single Human Being deserves basic human rights no matter what. they deserve healthcare, housing, food and water, bodily autonomy, etc. because in a society where your rights can be taken away because you did something Bad, the people in charge will find a way to make the people they dont like into Bad People, so that they can get away with taking their rights away. see: homosexuals are paedophiles, trans women are predators, Muslims are terrorists, etc. etc. etc.

the only way to ensure your rights never be taken away is to make sure No Ones Rights Can Be Taken Away Ever, yes even Those people. yes, them too. when i say no one, i mean no one.

keeping an open mind and listening to other peoples experiences is also highly important. if something makes you uncomfortable, sit with that. think about Why it makes you uncomfortable, and whether that is a rational thing to feel about it or if it is a knee jerk reaction that was taught to you by your family or the society you grew up in.

you will have to accept that you Are going to be wrong about some things. you are not always the good guy in every story. you will say bigoted things or be ignorant about something or offend someone, even if you never intended to. and your response to that should not be "omg i didnt mean it im not a bigot i would never do anything bigoted my mums brothers dogs cousin is [insert minority group]!!", it should be "ok, i messed up here. i clearly have much more to learn on this subject. im so sorry for [thing you did/said] and for any harm it caused, i will educate myself so that this doesnt happen again."

and its important to remember that having some internalised bigoted beliefs doesnt make you an Evil Person, you were just raised in a bigoted society. of course you're going to pick these things up thats what humans do! we learn from and copy the behaviours of those we grow up with as children. but you do have to do the work to challenge those beliefs and educate yourself. i believe that people should always be given the opportunity to grow and change, and that often times bigoted behaviour comes from a place of ignorance and fear. these people will never change their beliefs if we treat them like irredeemable monsters, it will just push them further away.

anyway thats my take on it i suppose. other people will have different opinions. i hope this helped you in some way :)

[hyunjinswifeee]

I know you don't want to hear from me. But I'm having problems submitting asks right now because this account im using under security check rn because it's new.

Unfortunately. I read an article.

This one https://www.cfr.org/global-conflict-tracker/conflict/israeli-palestinian-conflict

And I need to apologize. I want to apologize for making that joke about Palestinians victims. It was disgusting, violent and totally harmful. And not funny at all. I need to apologize for saying I was uneducated and I want to apologize for the stalking. I did make a few accounts to see what was going down on some blogs.

And I just found out Palestine has been victims for years! 75 to be exact. The death rate between Israel and Palestine is so unnecessary! Have you seen it. During the last couple years you only a couple hundred Israels die and a massive thousand of Palestinians die. And I realized how unfair they are. Not only that. But Israel really wants to be victim. They attacked an Egypt airport (I think it was an airport) in 1957 I believe and I knew it has nothing to do with this. But I was really into this research.

This is not an excuse. But I need to explain my actions. I'm 17. I live with my mother. She is 100% Republican and she is super racist. One day she sat me down and asked if I knew what was happening between Israel and Palestine. I said no. And she explained.

She said Palestine is hurting Israel and Hamas is being sent over to kill Israels people. Something about suicide bombing and such. she said women are getting raped by Hamas and so on.

I thought I was educated because of what the one person, whom I am supposed to trust. Basically lied to me. And I was an absolute dick on the Internet because of my so called knowledge. And I want to apologize to you. I'm sorry and I hope this reaches you. And no, you don't need to stop talking shit about me. I'm down with Tumblr. And I understand your anger towards me. I understand crybabychims anger. And I hope this reaches you. Because I've been feeling super guilty. In fact. I've been going to church. It's ridiculous I know. But I need to get this out of my head. It's haunting me.

My mom has change over the years. She was never always like this. Still not an excuse. But it's odd to me now that I know what she did. And now she's upset that I support Palestinians.

Anywho. Please read this and have some thought. If not. That's totally your choice.

You are correct on the very last part i didn’t have to answer you but because I’m nice i’mma gonna say something to you..

what you have done here was inexcusable having your followers attack @crybabychims @joonberriess @aft3rhrs because you got called out for how you talk to people and not only that but want to be an ignorant and not listen to people when they are LITERALLY giving you information about what’s going on in Palestine

First you said you didn’t support neither Palestine or Israel but when anons were jumping your ass for that first answer that you made on your last blog all of a sudden it’s “Free Palestine”? You weren’t educated enough but there’s evidence right in your face? you had all this time to talk about Palestine you had all this time to be reblogging post about Palestine but you chose to stay silent.. and you said “stop talking about politics and genocide on writers blog unless given permission” since when did we have to have permission to talk about this genocide on a writers blog when other writers themselves are talking about it

And some other things i want to say you said you’re 17 right? It doesn’t matter how old you are you are you can still do your research about Palestine and what they’ve been going through for 75 years!! your mother telling you other things doesn’t make it any better instead of you doing your research you’ve decided to listen to what your mother had to say and stick with it now that’s a problem.

You’ve consistently kept harassing @crybabychims when she said she did not want you on her blog anymore after the things you have done and she has been getting harassed by people because of you but not only is she getting harassed but @joonberriess has been getting anons too harassing her for YOUR doings it’s disgusting and it’s not okay whatsoever and making multiple blogs won’t do you any justice because people are still gonna know who you are and if you’ve been blocked then just accept that and move on no need to keep making other blogs just to stalk other people don’t you think?

You also called someone “ghetto” for how they were talking and yes I’ve seen the conversations you had with that person and let me tell you that shit was not cute of you calling them ghetto black or not that is something that should not be coming out of your mouth period.

And one last thing before i end this conversation is be careful how you say things to people on the internet because it will come back to you how you treat people they will treat you the same way but you shouldn’t be apologizing to me you should be apologizing to the three people that I’ve mentioned that’s IF they want to hear your apology.

[cute-girls-from-vns-anime-manga]

Hmm. You made me think of something. So I've always been the "vent friend", where people straight up trauma dump on me, but I wasn't allowed to do it back and I would never be invited to group things or any social activities by them. I spoke to a therapist about it and she said people saw me as a safe space, but I needed to set better and clearer boundaries with them. I know you said the mental scar thing, but do you think maybe you just need better coping skills? Cause when I'd have my eps they were very frequent and I noticed they'd get frequent when people would trauma dump and flat out ignore me for any other social interaction. Ok sorry for being nosy, I know I'm not a therapist. I just want to help amd let you know you aren't alone.

Oh for sure my coping skills always were shut down stop caring and let people treat me like however, completely cut off others and attack anyone that tries to bridge that cap. Thank you for the interest in my situation even this puts a dent in my mindset.

As I said, Im only about three years out from being directly and constantly abused daily which lasted for 22 years give or take, so hopefully with a few more years of hard healing work with psycho educating myself Ill be able to bring myself to work with a therapist

[rin-and-jade]

hey! first of all, we love and appreciate your blog a lot! lots of things have been leaned!

secondly - (sorry if this has been asked before) what are some basic things to tell friends/close ppl when telling them about the system? i normally give basic alter intros and cautions, but what are some important things to say to ppl who have absolutely zero clue what DID even is? i have a ton of things i want to say but i don't really know how to simplify what needs to be said.

thanks a bunch! -rey

Omg. Ty. I have been working on this blog sincerely, and im aware i can still make mistakes or have different opinions or solutions on topics, but its atleast about being genuine and not misinforming people for the sake of anything.

Your question is so good, and i exactly have 4 different types of friends i had encountered, which means im also suit for explaining tips to you from my personal experience, lets move on to the main point;

Telling intros and precautions of different parts to the person is short and straightforward, this should suffice for now because i wouldn't recommend bombarding a person with too much things at once. If you are trying to explain to a person who have 0 knowledge on DID, i say use any kinds of analogies along with simplified answers to explain this disorder, you could even give links (i read it myself before sending it to people to make sure its accurate) if its not enough. The "important things" you said for clueless people may look like letting the person know your parts are different 'facets' and never the same person, that you might have some triggers and you need to let the person know too, maybe telling that this disorder is more common than it is portrayed by society (perhaps people always thinks it is rare if they never heard it, and knowing its rare, depending on the person, may generate subtly negative responses even though not trying to harm anyone).

Now understand that we won't always get the perfect reply that we have in our heads.. these 4 types i ever met and take as examples, the one that is clueless, confused, but learning; the one that says they know DID but then say something as "is it like the split movie?"; the one that continued like nothing ever happened; the one that is also clueless but very curious. And i approached them according to their situation after hearing about plurality. Here is how you tackle all 4 of these as a bonus to your answers if atleast one fits my narrative:

Shocked/Confused but learning: you have to go very slow with this one, its like teaching a baby how to walk, but its explain bits of facts of the disorders, explain how you live differently compared to singlets, work on educating the principles of this disorder one after another, i also slide each part's name and its unique personality after the friend met them, on offtime (im a gatekeeper i can do this), memorizing one by one instead of all at once but this is just my way.

Educated but misinformed: i think telling the real way how this disorder works is much easier with this type of person, so the main thing you should address first is that split sucks ass, and then slam those truths and facts about what DID is all about, and then you're all done for now, just re-educate this person ig? Yeah.

Ignoring? Forgetful? Nothing happening?: yeah, not the best person i met, but really, it's either this person didn't chew the information and remember or it is just not comfy and prefer to address you as a singlet, the friend i have like this still respects the pronouns on whoever fronts but we have to keep telling her, but eitherway.. telling them you're plural is actually enough here. And i already respect the effort.

Curious but uneducated: i get along with this type of friend, they hear anything you say, and address the pronouns accordingly to each part who is present. it is still important to know that this person tends to make its own narrative of the disorder (because again, curious, maybe tend to understand in its own way) so you might want to explain the basics so this person doesn't start assuming something else, motivating them to read articles and other plural's experiences would also help you and the person a ton.

I really hope i had answered what you need, have a bright day you addicted totk gamer.

- j

[bl00d-f3t15h]

With respect, your attitude about "anti intellectualism" is not helpful in actually getting people to learn and engage with the world around them. I know people who told me they hate learning, who I then found out were never taught how to read, or who's entire experience of education was violence, etc -- is there "no hope" for them because of the ableism/racism/etc of school systems?

Learning is the natural human condition. If someone "hates" learning, something has gone very wrong and shaming them for it is unhelpful. I have had great success with nonjudgementally helping people figure out what they need to learn successfully.

people are systematically disadvantaged but thats not really what i was talking about. tho my post was written quickly so that might have not been clear.

my post was me vagueing about the people i work with who actively talk about becoming professional gamblers and/or regularly tell me how they use AI for their assignments. it wasnt really an attempt to get the reader to educate themselves because youre right, berating people doesnt work well as a persuasive tactic. also for the record i try to be very understanding and patient with said people because they are not getting the best education and i do understand how thats impacted them, but their attitude is also a pretty big factor as to why they dont think as critically as they should.

im not trying to say that everyone is given the same level of privilege and access and that is an obviously HUGE contributor towards the lack of curiosity. however, there is also (an anecdotally observed) lack of Want To Learn and im sorry but not all of those people are genuinely illiterate. there are plenty of valid reasons to have trouble learning (i have pretty severe dyslexia as an example) and people do need help (i needed help with reading and writing for most of my childhood) but there are people who can competently read and still choose to not educate themselves or even fact check information. these people arent lost causes because they can change their behavior (not saying thats easy) however if they dont, its not healthy.

and like, have you seen @/batmanisagatewaydrug's black female author post? the amount of people jumping to defend their ignorance is pretty astounding.

all in all the post was me bitching and not a well thought out or well written representation of my thoughts on the state of the american peoples education and cultural hate for learning.

[sortagaysortahigh]

i read the anon asks like ten times and just feel so sad about it. their crash out is so valid. i honestly really want to hear more about exactly what sorts of racially based violence/ experiences are being depicted in the story. based on my own experiences on this site, i feel like with indigenous characters, this kind of stuff is so tough because you constantly have americans that have like a great grandparent or even a great great grand parent who was indigenous and they use that to justify their portrayal/ depiction of indigenous characters. and i’m not here to identity police, if you’re interested in your family history/ connecting with your ancestry and whatever whatever, you do that. obviously blood quantum is not supported/ thought of as the gold standard for determining if someone is native american or not (by nations). most nations actually prioritize a connection to the tribe/ nation in a cultural and social sense far more when it comes to determining that sort of thing. but when i start to see the person themselves claiming that they’ve never been affected in any way by this part of their heritage, or if they’re having to do tons of research to even write the character, that’s when it becomes clear to me that you don’t have an ounce of actual lived experience that aids in writing this character. and without that it absolutely means your portrayal/ the way you go about writing CAN be harmful and exploitative. you have your family history and that’s wonderful but if you have no connection to an actual tribe/ nation in todays day and age, and again if you have zero lived experiences that have been influenced by this part of you, your voice isn’t necessarily guaranteed to not be harmful and i wish people would get that. i think in these cases people feel entitled and it just irks me.

Youre valid for your take and i def do agree with some parts of it but im sorry but to anyone whos liek “well my great grandparents were xyz” to “claim” an ethnic background, esp a native background is literal bullshit like im sorry if thay comes off cunty but its genuinely how i feel. Especially because a lot of those ppl use those excuses to perpetuate cultural appropriation, their own ignorance, and literally will defend their own prejudice/microaggressions/and downright racism w “well my great grandma was a cherokee princess!!!”like bitch what???

I feel that if you find out that you have native ancestry, if youre not going to the source via historical NATIVE perspectives or actual natives themselves to seek education on the cultures and customs, then you need to stfu snd stop claiming it. Like im sorry but being Native/indigenous in general is something very sacred and HEAVILY criticised, attacked, and policed physically and socially, not to mention the way that indigenous people are treated all over north america.

If you can claim to be native while saying youre not impacted by issues facing native people, youre an idiot and a walking contradiction. And finally, you are not native, you just took a shitty ancestry DNA test bc blood quantum is stupid as well.

But that is simply my humble opinion, and of course like i said i agree w you regarding the fact that LIVED EXPERIENCE is so fucking important when voicing opinions or portraying a culture/ethnic group. I just personally feel like ppl, esp white ppl are too quick to claim native ancestry when theyre ignorant morons who dont give a shit about natives.

[swiftfootedachilles]

people are so weird how are u gonna bash a well meaning person and then refuse?? to tell them?? WHY you’re bashing them?? if ur post was offensive then explain why jesus christ this is not how u have healthy useful dialogue with people, it’s just piling unnecessary hate and cruelty on someone. i’m really sorry you’re being treated so shittily by this fandom, i love your posts.

hey thank you so much for this. the handful of people ive talked to have been very understanding of my side and agree that it seems like this person already didn't like me and was looking for a way to renounce me+my posts

truly, i don't know why she feels my posts are offensive. i hate the idea that a jewish person feels i was antisemitic and fetishizing jewish culture. i researched antisemitic fetishization tropes in opera during my undergrad program. ive always tried my hardest to understand minority communities that i am not a part of, without overstepping and seeming like a white knight/savior. i have always been guided through life by my ethics and a burning need for social justice. i want to fix this!

i was really pissed off yesterday and used more aggressive language in my posts and replies. today my head is clearer but im just as confused. i never expect minorities to do the emotional labor of researching topics for me and handing everything over on a silver platter. i will gladly educate myself, but i cant do that when i don't know what i did wrong. this isn't a situation where i did something clearly wrong and there's an obvious gap in my understanding - ive asked multiple friends where they feel i went wrong, and all of them have said they aren't sure

one very kind person messaged me about how, from an outsiders perspective, they were reminded of other situations where autistic people have their words or actions purposefully misinterpreted, and that seriously opened my eyes. OBVIOUSLY im not saying this person is accusing me of antisemitism because she hates autistic people. but i have often experienced people purposefully misrepresenting me and getting mad without explanation. everything starts out good, great even, and i build a script with which to interact with others. but eventually, you get very comfortable and stop following a script, start to unmask a little. and suddenly all hell breaks loose.

you're not acting right. you said the wrong thing. who would say something like that? so inappropriate. and when you ask for clarification because you genuinely do not know what you did wrong, all you receive are eyerolls and more hate because you should already know this, im not gonna spoonfeed everything to you. you're an adult figure it out yourself.

like i said, i don't think she's, like, hating on me for being autistic. i think ive gained a certain reputation (of what i don't know) in the shameless fandom, and people are projecting their preexisting judgement into me. this means that they don't actually want me to apologize. they don't care. they think i am already not a good person and just want to point that out to me to shame me into saying sorry because they think it'll knock me down a few pegs. whatever. my real offline life is much worse than getting mildly ganged up on on the internet. ill survive. i still want to finish my mickey embroidery and my edits/webweavings and my fics. maybe i will, maybe i won't. like ive mentioned many times before, i have pretty bad rejection sensitive dysphoria and i need to be reassured i will get feedback on my works before i ever post them. my fics were already being ignored by most of the big fandom writers - i think those will just have to be scrapped because i genuinely cannot take hollowing out my chest and putting it to paper only to get a few nice comments/kudos. the embroidery though, that's for me. i definitely wanna do it. the other original posts like webweavings, idk maybe i really don't know

[ventaway]

you know what i'll never forget?

i was working in the restaurant, and i had a girl that worked with me there, she was really beautiful and i thought that immediately all the guys would want to be with her and i was right, so i took like a step down i didn't really want to be friends with her because she looked shallow to me, just some beautiful girl, but also i did cause she looked fun, after a few weeks, i got chosen. she walked up to me and said : hey, we should hang out. and i felt it was fishy as hell. haa now you are interested in me? when a month and more i was just a shadow. it was weird but i was like... okay you want to - im flowing with it.

so from that on, she would tell me things, and talk to me in shifts and stay with me to talk even though she's late to things, make me feel like i'm important, and i would say to myself- ha that's a friend. i have a new friend. she invited me to her birthday gathering, i felt very honored. but then she started to disappear, i would text and she would text when it's convenient. for her. or she wouldn't text at all, in march she went for a family visit for a month or like.. 3 weeks, i would ask her how is she, she sometimes wouldn't answer or just say one sentence and a photo and that's it. not conversation. so i got pissed. i was that month in the hospital in the emergency room- nothing serious but i wrote it in our whatsapp group - didn't respond or cared, she wouldn't ask me for one time how i am or just answer fuckin' texts. she would ignore everything i noticed it before, she would text us - hey girls want to go shopping tomorrow? we would all say yes, she wouldn't answer or what she did - she wrote on 12. am - oh sorry i have an appointment i can't move. and i was pissed. we had a holiday she would text- hey want to go to a party? i would say yes and then she would disappear cause she just didn't want to go with me. i hated that so when she came back from her family visit i was on shift with her and she saw i was being cold to her - wow she just didn't know how to take it she walked up to me - hey i thought you would be happier to see me and i was just like.. wowwwwwww i told her - yeah you know what.. there's things we need to talk about.

and then she was nervous, didn't know how to talk to me and asked me if i wanted to go to a party with her and i was just like yeah maybe. and then i saw her after the shift talking with one of her friends so fuck you. i still watch her stories and it makes me mad. mad as hell. and i always will remember that she said to me once - if i want something in that second i know i can get it. and she meant that if she wants to have coffee with someone - she would always have that person. so i was a game for her in that time being and even though she knows it or not deep down that that what she's doing to people it makes me angry. people don't treat people like that and she wants to work with kids. all the people that learning education and psychology are the dumbest people i've ever met.

[artigas]

4 and 7!! they kinda go together: opinion on picasso?

do you think its ok to separate the artist from the art? I absolutely do, though I think it’s a far more complicated and fluid task than we’d like to think. As a literature student, this has always been the case when it comes to great works. As far as artists of any sort go, I think you are entitled to separate art from the artist because the art belongs, in some significant, deeply intimate way, to the audience/reader/viewer. Other times, you’re entitled to disengage from art because of the artist and because the corruption of the artist bleeds irrevocably into the art (Joseph Conrad was a vile racist, for example, and that much is apparent in The Heart of Darkness). At the same time, when the artist is alive, the task becomes more difficult: I think it is silly to pretend that any work exists without problematic dimension, that any artist exists without blunders or faults. Everything, simply by consequence of being made by human beings, will have it’s sins and faults and I think ... even the use of the word “problematic” has become associated to a very intolerant, very morally chauvinist and simplistic way of thinking. I don’t give two shits if we find definitive proof tomorrow that Shakespeare was a raging homophobe- I love his works and my lil gay hands are going to make them queer until the day I die. At the same time, I refuse to pay to see a Woody Allen film. When it comes to our contemporaries, I feel like fiscal support can sometimes be a very tricky but added component. Should we be contributing to the financial success of someone like Roman Polanski? Perhaps not. What about the fact that everything we pay to consume has likely passed the hands of at least one absolutely abhorrent person, unbeknownst to us? Ethical consumption isn’t entirely possible in this regard. And when you draw your moral lines, they may look different than that of others- I don’t think we need Allen’s film for cinema to flourish, but others would disagree because Annie Hall will always mean the world to them. C’est la vie. Opinion on... As far as Picasso goes, I can’t pretend to know much about the artist in depth. I know the usual spiel about him: a bully, a violent misogynist, a sexual creep. I don’t think those things are untrue. He was also intimate friends with Gertrude Stein. The reality of his person is obviously not comfortable and wholly good, but perhaps he wasn’t entirely evil. And, well, even if he was- let’s say he was an absolute garbage fire of a person. He still contributed to the world of art in a way that was incredibly significant. I think that if the world never saw a Picasso starting today, perhaps art would lose something indeed. That said .... lmao I always had the snotty, indignant idea he was vastly overrated and his art personally doesn’t do anything for me lmao

[dearreader]

someone reblogged this so i wanna add more details cause my og post was made quickly and i didn’t fully articulate my thoughts and just kinda made half jokes on what american culture or food is. but i do want to mention @isitovernow-ootw reblog cause they really articulated this well and better than i did originally.

but i originally remembered the tom holland interview while watching the great food truck race with my mom (which most people know is one of my favorite shows) and a big thing that show has done is show me just how vast and wide american cuisine is. so many people will have food trucks with unique themes and ideas and a lot of them are poc making food from their own culture and wanting to make it more popular/more known. and that has showed and introduced me to a lot of different types of food or cuisine that i was only vaguely aware of. which is what the chefs/people running the trucks want! they want their food and their culture to be more widely known and each season food network will cast a wide net and find so many different trucks or people with a dream to compete and you can always tell they’re passionate about it.

but a BIG thing is that a lot of the time they will have to come up with specials or new spins of recipes as part of challenges which opens the door to so many possibilities. like on the most recent episode my mom and i saw a truck made a poke nacho bowl as part of a ball park food challenge and my mom and i got so excited because:

that truck was on the chopping block twice the previous episode and we knew they were either going to go home or rise in the ranks fast

we thought that looked so good

and it was definitely something chef tyler florence was going to love and appreciate because HE LOVES WATCHING THE FOOD TRUCKS BE THAT CREATIVE!

and it’s just weird to me to hear tom hollands definition on american food and by his definition that wouldn’t be considered an american dish when i think that’s probably one of the best examples of american cuisine. because america was founded by immigrants and made by poc and their food is american (and the land was also stolen from indigenous people who have their own food and cuisine which is american but i am not educated enough to further elaborate on it but do want to mention it) and just flat out writing any of it off as from other cultures is just gross and feels micro aggressive racist to me (a white woman so i might very well be wrong and if i am im sorry). saying that immigrants or the children of immigrants from other cultures can’t make an impact on what cuisine defines america says that they can’t make an impact on anything. it just leaves a sour taste in my mouth to say that hamburgers are german or french fries are french and therefore aren’t american or can never BE american cuisine when the version we have is so vastly different and unique than what it was originally that its localized (which @isitovernow-ootw also said).

also not to mention but things like soul food or cajun food (and others i can’t remember right now, apologies) are distinctly american and were made by black people who had their home/culture taken and stolen from them and had to go and remake their culture. and completely ignoring that this food is american because black people made it is racist. point blank.

like i understand what tom holland was getting at, and i don’t think he meant to cause this level of discussion on cuisine. but him saying that america doesn’t have its own cuisine because it all originated from somewhere else ignores a lot about what culture is and how humans operate. humans thrive on community and coming together and sharing. from that we grow and modify and change. it’s one of the beautiful things about being alive and exploring new places. and just saying that america doesn’t have that while other countries do… it’s not right and annoys me.

anyway. thank you for reading my long rant that wasn’t really needed on american cuisine.

i keep thinking of a tom holland interview where he said he preferred english food too american and when he was asked why he had the interviewer name off american food and he went through and pointed out how they all originated from other countries. and i have my issues with it cause…. bestie the call us coming from inside the house! like most food that originated from england was from other cultures. and fish and chips is the one thing england has on english food but IT WAS INVENTED BY A JEWISH IMMIGRANT! like how are you going to say that you prefer english food when it’s all from immigrants to?????

also, american food is just all fair food. like anything deep fried is american. put some respect on our name.

[ellmaii]

I’d like to make something very clear. I do NOT have a problem with Byler. You might disagree and that’s fine but I think the ship is one sided attraction. That’s MY opinion.

My problem is with everyone who is trying to manipulate and twist events in the show to feed their own Byler fancies. It’s not only annoying and ignorant but sometimes harmful.

Tumblr is a place that seems to attract people who have difficulties in their personal lives. That doesn’t apply to everyone but for a lot of people it does.

-people throwing accusations of homophobia. I don’t need to explain this one, It doesn’t go amiss

-People being ebleist (not always intentionally). Eleven has disability. You can say she’s ‘just’ traumatised and uneducated but it’s clearly had a profound impact on many areas in life. Trauma itself can cause that. ‘A disability is any condition of the body or mind (impairment) that makes it more difficult for the person with the condition to do certain activities (activity limitation) and interact with the world around them (participation restrictions).’

-Disregarding and invalidating trauma and grief. “She lies to him because she doesn’t feel like she can be herself around him” “he can’t say he loves her because he actually loves Will” “she didn’t look happy when he confessed his feeling to her because she realised she didn’t love him like that” “Mike didn’t look happy when she said I love you too” Not everything is related directly to their relationships, Im sorry but it’s not. How people behave and respond to situations often goes deeper than what they’re actually arguing over that minute and these characters and their past go wayyy deeper than that. You can disagree but you don’t have to twist everything and anything to make it about Byler.

-No platforming. It’s dangerous. Don’t refuse to engage in a balanced debate because it crushes your Byler fantasies (same goes for Mileven). Sharing opinions and debating them is how we learn, but do them in a way that is respectful and sticks to facts. Not made up facts, if it’s not confirmed then ‘I think’ or ‘from my opinion’ are appropriate to use before sharing. Those are opinions, fell free to share opinions but don’t state them as fact.

-Open lack of compassion. Some of you love to criticise Eleven because she gets in the way of Byler. You can dislike her but at least try to understand her feelings and behaviour. Again, stop invalidating. She’s been severely abused and neglected her entire life, Im sorry if you find her “annoying” or “a bad girlfriend” but grow up

If you haven’t realised by now this post itself goes deeper than Byler and Mileven. It’s about respect. People like to use their fandoms as an escape and a coping strategy. Don’t call people homophobic for sharing an opposing opinion. How do you think child abuse victims or people with autism or learning difficulty or dealing with grief feel when coming across anti-Mileven post that invalidate Elevens issues or use them against her to further their own ideology. The lack of compassion and understanding then the refusal to educate themselves. All for what, to promote a freaking Tv show couple??

We grow attachments to fictional characters often because we can relate to them on a personal level. What you say about a fictional character can make someone feel bad about themselves. It can cause offence to people who love somebody who they think are similar to the fictional character.

We all have different opinions and fell free to share them, it’s how we learn and grow as people, but be considerate and educate yourselves first instead of spreading ignorance. And most importantly, STOP using these things for the purpose of promoting a freaking relationship between fictional characters. For example, saying El can’t understand romantic relationships and isn’t ready for one. If you believe that that’s fine and I respect it. However, it is completely irrelevant to Byler so don’t use it and point it out solely to feed your own fancies.

[actually-impostor]

I am so tired

And exhausted. Disappointed. And worried

Jesus christ I'm worried

Because they are kids. They are childrens.

I'm gonna go on a long rant, everything will be tagged as it should, and this post will be behind a read more. Care for yourself while reading.

Tommyinmit. Tubbo. Ranboo. Hell, even Purpled (tho luckily i havent seen him be fucking attacked and hounded and harassed in this way. Small mercies)

They should NOT have to carry the weight of expectation A Bunch Of Adults Have Put On Their Shoulders

Read that again

YOU AS AN ADULT SHOULD NOT PUT YOUR EXPECTATIONS ON THE SHOULDERS OF CHILDREN

Should they try to better themselves every day? Yeah, but that's something every human should do

Should they stop being children just because they have a platform?

FUCK NO

Im sorry the internet and the world and the adults around you failed you to the point where you think having a mental breakdown everyday for all the struggles around the world you Are Forced To Read About is somehow normal.

Because darling, it's not.

Its not normal, or okay, or something to flex about, that your mental health is being put to such a risk just so you can stay "on top of things"

Im going to re-phrase something i said in 2019 about child actors (i know they aren't "actors" in the traditional sense but they are child celebrities, and it fits)

What you guys have to realize is that the difference between them and... idk, kids you see in your school or in your neighborhood, is that They Have An Audience. They had a sudden spike of people who from one day to the other focused their attention on them and decided "mh, I want to give them attention and a platform for a/b/c reason". You gave them your attention, if you disagree with something they said or their attitudes or whatever, you are in complete liberty to take away your view without feeling like you have to put them on blast.

They are young enough where their personalities, reactions, and opinions are still an echo of the adults and friends who surround them. They are starting to form their own opinions, but its still very much filtered by whichever influence got them first (parents, idols, teachers, older siblings, etc)

We are all ignorants when we are kids, even those who had to suffer thru a lack of privilege are ignorants of things up to a certain point. We grow to educate ourselves in whichever way we can, but we are still ignorant to A Lot Of Issues while we are growing and becoming ourselves.

The difference between us nobodies, and child celebrities (or kids with a following. Twitch streamers, tiktokers, youtubers, actors, etc) is that they have a constant spotlight and millions of eyes on them.

Everyone has access to when they fuck up because its never in private, Because They Dont Have That Privilege.

They are not allowed to mess up, because they are expected to be perfect.

Read that again.

They are KIDS who are Not Allowed To Make Mistakes Anymore.

They aren't allowed to make mistakes, a central point of growing up that helps you become a better person. They are not being allowed to grow and become better because they are not being allowed to fuck up, which is human!

And instead of Actually being helpful, the solution you, ADULTS, have come to... is to send them hate?

Your solution is to call them racist, homophobic, horrible humans who wont better themselves.

What have you done?

Answer that to yourselves.

What have you done?

Have you donated to your charity of choice? Have you given the microphone to the ones that struggle? Have you woke up and think "im gonna do a random act of kindness"?

Or are you just going to waste your energy and yourself bashing a teenager on twitter and staring as his mental health fucks off? In front of a live audience that instead of realizing they were taking things TOO FAR decided to try to "hammer the point"

What are you gonna do if they fuck off?

Because what´s happening is not "EDUCATING"

Is bullying a child.

Thats all there is. You have successfully bullied a child, yay. Now he doesn't want to learn better because no matter how much he educates himself yall still decide he is the worst human being on the planet for not being able to express something in a way YOU feel HE should.

Allow people to make mistakes without them being crucified every fucking step of the way.

Another thing is this need to remind them "i have this mental health situation, now say something to make me feel better"

Fantastic that you found someone and something that can help you out of a dark place. Now do the next part of getting Actual Capable And Profesional Help.

They are children, they are streamers. They dont have the necessary knowledge and equipment and training to help you with something serious. It should not be in their shoulder the weight of actively helping people thru a traumatic event or a shitty situation. If their streams comfort you, great. But thats all they can do.

And if they want to be educated on something Dont Immediately Shut Them Down. Let them educate themselves even if it's on something considered problematic, or something you think "is not important enough", just let them explore their interests without feeling like they have to perform everything for their audience.

Be better.

Do better.

And honestly? I didnt wanted to add this, but after all my sister has a point.

Why are you guys putting so much effort and energy into this? They play video games for a living.

Use your energy into bettering yourself and doing your part for the world. Not into bashing a 16-17 years old child.

Go outside, see the sky, change your scenario a bit. Touch some grass.

I think tomorrow i'll go for a walk.