#yall why am I allowed to get myself into these fucking situations

[readingwriter92]

Alright yall. You know what time it issssss!!!

Reading over the bullshit I wrote!! WE HATE IT!!

[joshs-big-toe]

I Hate That I Love You

a/n: hey my loves, this fanfic that i wrote is definitely a gift because of my lack of writing. i tried something new and wrote this one in first person POV, so let me know if you like that. i do want to give a warning up front, this contains spoilers for the beekeeper movie as well as an ending that made my proofreader, @peetas-nose, say "what the fuck". derek danforth will never get a happy ending.

edit: I LOVE YALL BUT I WARNED YOU IT WOULD BE SAD

CW: heavy smut, p in v, fem!reader, aggressive sex, mentions of drinking and drug use(cocaine), oral sex(fem!receiving), depressing ending, SPOILERS

word count: 3844

PRESENT DAY

Derek Danforth. Momma's boy. Rich kid. 28 year old man-child. Let me be clear, Derek wasn't always this way. He was kind once upon a time. He was always rich, don’t get me wrong, but god when his mother was campaigning, he turned into the biggest asshole you could imagine. When he changed is when I broke up with him. We were 24 when I ended things between us. Though, things never ended between us truly. I was tired of the selfish person he had become. But then again, I use him for things too. He has money, I get sex, it's a win-win situation. This sounds like a prostitute situation, it’s not. He doesn't pay me, not necessarily, but my life has never been difficult since our agreement. I make him look good, he gives me benefits. I’m getting ahead of myself, though. Let me rewind to four years ago. 

FOUR YEARS AGO

I sat down on the couch, running my hands down my face before I looked up at him. “Fuck, Derek, you’re not the same person I met! What happened to you?” Derek paced in front of me. He was manhandling a glass of whisky. I honestly was afraid he was going to spill it. 

“Y/N, you know I’m doing this for my mom!” His words were slurred. He had started drinking a few months prior when his mom first started talking about running for President. President, ha, fucking insane, right? Not to Derek and not to his mom. I hated it the moment he picked up his first glass, flipping through websites, spending hours up all night on the phone. He did some shit that I’m still in the dark about. I shot up from the couch, snatching the glass out of his hand. His eyes bore into mine, sending a chill up my spine. “Give it back, y/n.”

“Derek, your moms life has become your life. What are you doing with your money? Why are you doing this, this isn’t who you are!” He set his jaw, taking a step forward toward me. 

“Give it here.” His voice was almost too calm at this point. I loosened my grip on the glass, allowing it to fall to the ground and shatter on impact. “Fucking hell, are you fucking serious right now?” 

“Oops,” I shrugged, sitting back on the couch. My arm rested on the arm rest and I crossed one leg over the other. “Get your head out of your ass or you lose me, Derek. Thats how this is going to be.” I motioned toward him, studying his blazer and whatever-the-fuck expensive shoes he was wearing. “This… This is not who you are, or were, Derek.” 

“I’m doing all this shit for her, not me, don’t you get that?”

“I call bullshit on that.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said I call bullshit.” He started pacing, running his hands through his hair. I followed him with my eyes, studying his movements, the crunch from the broken glass under his shoes. He paused in front of me, looking down at me. 

“I am working my ass off, getting more money than you could ever comprehend for the sake of her. You don’t fucking understand the fucking stress I’m fucking under!” I was taken back. More money than I could ever comprehend. Ouch. I stand up and take a step toward him, our noses almost touching. I could smell the whisky on his breath and see the frustration and anger in his eyes.

“I can’t do this, Derek. I can’t be with, whoever this is, because it’s not the person I fell in love with.” I ran my hand through my hair as I began to walk away. 

“Y/N, help me with this!” He was almost shouting. I shook my head, but before I could get too far, Derek grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his arms, pushing his lips against mine. I fucking hated the taste of whisky, and I hated how I did not want to break away from the kiss. My brain immediately became foggy with arousal. Something about the way his lips moved against mine sent a tremor of heat down in my core. His hand trailed up my arm and to the back of my neck, holding me against him. My mouth gapped, allowing him to slip his tongue into my mouth. Our mouths worked perfectly with each other, drawing me deeper into the kiss. I finally somewhat came to my senses, pulling away briefly, him still attacking my lips as I spoke.

“We,” his lips connected to mine. “Fuck, we’re still done after this.”

“Yeah,” I leaned in, desperately connecting my lips to his again making him gap his sentence. “Okay fine, just shut up.” Shut up I did. As much as I hated who he had become, or more accurately stated, who he was becoming, I couldn’t deny sex. He was insanely good at it, even though he seemed almost careless. And for some reason, his carelessness was why it was so intoxicating. Derek groaned, shoving me down onto the couch, pushing the breath out of me. He moved quick, sliding my shirt and jeans off of me, leaving in nothing but my bra and panties. He bit his lower lip before leaning down to attach his lips to mine again. I could feel him fumbling with his belt before throwing it to the ground, momentarily breaking our kiss to slide out of his dress pants and boxers. His cock sprung out leaving nothing to the imagination. Derek was only slightly above average, but fuck he knew how to work his body with mine. I looked at him, noticing a bead of precum forming at the tip, turning me on that much more. He pulled my panties down to my ankles before turning me onto my stomach, pulling my ass into the air. As he pulled my hair back, I heard him spit into his hand before the wet sounds of him stroking his own cock filled the room. I was getting impatient. I decided to push my ass against him, however I earned myself a hair pull. “We may be done after this,” he huffed, “but we can keep having fun, yeah?” He sighed out as he slowly pushed into me. “I can’t get enough of this fucking pussy, you understand that?” I tried to nod, but the grip on my hair was too tight. I opened my mouth to speak, however as i tried he began pulling in and out of me and grabbing at my ass to roughly pull me onto him. A moan escaped my lips instead of words. “What.” he growled out, not stopping his movements. If anything, it made him go faster. “Did I fuck the words out of your mouth already?” His breathing picked up as he continued his pace. His nails dragged into my ass, making me whine in a pleasured pain. 

“D-Derek, fuck,” I struggled to answer him. I felt one hand reach around me and push a finger against my clit. Derek groaned, the sound of skin slapping overpowering any other sound that was in the room. His used his finger to circle my clit. I felt him plant soft kisses on my back as he worked at the bundle of nerves. He released my hair and grabbed my ass again and began to push and pull me off of him again. 

“Struggling to use your words, y/n? Come on baby, use those words. Even if we aren’t together, you'll still let me use you right?” I could feel his breath on my neck. I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pleasure coursing through my body.

“W-what~ aha fuck- whats in it f-for me?” I managed out, trying to stifle my moans. He was pounding into me at this point, his finger still pressing against my clit. I was struggling to keep it together. There was a heat rising up in my lower belly as I felt my orgasm approaching. “F-fucking hell, Derek.”

“Whats in it for you?” His voice was low and his movements were erratic. He was close too. “A life of p-pleasure- fuck.. No more struggling. B-benefits.” I tipped over the edge, my orgasm spreading through my body as I clenched around him. I buried my face into the cushion of the couch, crying out in the pleasure of the orgasm ripping through me. His hands felt their way to my hips, his breathing ragged as i felt him twitch before filling me up with his cum. He pulled out, turning me over onto my back, watching me as I caught my breath. “So,” he panted. “Your answer?”

“You,” I paused to take a breath. “I’m here for whatever you need,” I began. “But I get a peaceful life in return.” He grabbed my clothes, throwing them onto me before getting his own and putting them on. After we both were dressed, he looked down at me and held out his hand.

“You have yourself a deal.” With that, the fate between us was sealed in a handshake. 

PRESENT DAY

I regretted the agreement the moment my hand touched his for the handshake. I wish I could hate Derek more, but part of me still very much loves him. The consistent sex over the next four years definitely didn’t help. Derek and I turned 28 a few months ago. He kept changing, he turned to drugs and alcohol, his fashion sense got so much worse and he decided to get these bullshit frosted tips. And I still couldn’t help but look at him and wonder what we could’ve been if he was normal. Once again, I found myself at one of his parties. I was sitting on his lap with my legs crossed while his hand rested on my thigh. On the table next to him sat a glass of whisky and a small vial of white powder, I assume cocaine. For this party, he had me dress in this form-fitting short red dress that ruffled at the end. I draped around him, putting on a show for all his little rich-boy friends. 

“You guys have any idea how much we made with that one woman alone?” Derek chimed in, his smile wide as he spoke. I smiled, looking over at Garnett as he raised his glass into the air.

“Wish I could’ve seen the look on her face as she saw that,” He paused before raising his voice. He shot his arms into the air, squeezing his eyes shut and shouting out in victory. “3.7 MILLION DOLLARS!!” All of Derek’s friends’ voices started ringing together, creating a dissonance of voices and shouts. I hated it here. I couldn’t stand the smell of cigarette smoke and the drunk men trying to poke and prod at me everywhere. Derek could see the discomfort on my face, or maybe feel it in the rigidity of my body draped over him. I feel his hand run up my thigh, the tips of his fingers resting under the hem of my dress. I look down at him, his hair looking fried and his stupid green suit he was wearing. I grimaced. He glanced in my direction, pulling my head down to where my ear met his lips.

“Liven up, y/n, we have an agreement.” He mumbled, the heat of his breath tickling my neck. 

“Oh-ho-ho,” Garnett exclaimed. “Derek wants some from his bitch!” I winced but kept a smile, even choking out a little laugh. 

“Watch it, Garnett, remember your place.” Derek’s tone was serious. Garnett raised his hands in surrender.

“My bad, my bad. I'm going to take the boys and go talk about the new branch you’re building.” Garnett stood up, his posse following close behind, giving Derek shoulder punches and shakes as they made their way out. The door slammed shut behind him, cueing me to get off of Derek and make my way to the couch. I kicked off my heels and leaned my head back against the head of the couch groaning, my eyes screwing shut. 

“You’ve been here for an hour, are you seriously acting like that right now?”

“I don’t want to hear it from you. I wore what you wanted me to, did my makeup the way you wanted me to, god forbid I’m tired of playing pretend with these jackass friends of yours.” I looked over to him. He was laid back in his chair, head back, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“If you’re done, I need you to tell me. I have plenty of other girls who would fight to be in the position you’re in.” His eyes met mine, a mocking smile was on his lips. I rolled my eyes and looked away, unable to hide the grin that threatened the corners of my mouth. His smile became more sincere. “That’s my girl.”

“Still not yours, Derek.”

“You are while you’re here.” He stood up and took a sip of his whisky before grabbing the vial and sauntering over to me. “You don’t understand how fucking hot you look right now.” He knelt down to the ground in front of my knees, gently spreading them apart before getting in between them. “You’re going to stay still for me, right?”

“Derek, what are you doing?” He held the small vial up and shook it in front of my face. “And you plan to…”

“Just stay fucking still.” I watched him closely, eyeing his every movement. He fumbled around his suit pockets, finding a $50 and handing it to me. “Pull your dress up, then roll that, yeah?” His face was flushed as he watched me push my dress further up my thighs, exposing my panties in full. He bit his lower lip as he looked at me, an obvious wet spot from my own arousal seeping through already. His eyes met mine, a grin plastering his face. “I love the effect I have on you, y/n.” I felt my face heat as I rolled the bill for him, knowing what he was going to do, but taken by surprise with how he did it. Derek broke eye contact first, taking the vial and unscrewing the lid. He brought it over to my thigh and carefully began pouring a line of cocaine on me. I wanted to shift, to mess him up just to see how I would react, but I was infatuated with what he was doing. Fuck I hate that he does this. I couldn’t stop him. He held his hand out, telling me he wanted the rolled up bill from me. I complied, wordlessly placing it between his thumb and pointer finger. “Good girl,” he mumbled. He turned, looking at my other thigh, quickly pouring out another small line across me. “Better stay still, understand me?” I was afraid to move. “Words, you know better.”

“Yes, Derek. Perfectly still.” He smiled. He brought the bill up to his nose, plugging one side and lowering himself close to my thigh. I tensed as he sniffed up the powder. He groaned, rubbing his nose before turning to the other thigh and doing the same thing but on the opposite side of his nose.

“Fuck,” he mumbled as he pinched his nose and sniffed again. “You still have some..” Before I could comprehend what he meant, he ran his tongue up my thigh where the line was, but did not stop. He traced the top hem of my panties until he reached the other thigh, dragging his tongue down my thigh picking up any residue from the powder that may have been left over. His eyes connected with mine, both of our faces flushed. 

“The door locks on its own, right?” I mumbled, my arousal taking control of me. That was the hottest fucking shit I have ever seen in my fucking life. He nodded, no words coming from him as the tips of his fingers dragged slowly up my thighs, hooking around my panties and sliding them down my thighs and pulling them off of me. He met my eyes again as he brought them up to his mouth, licking my arousal off of them before discarding them to the side. Fuck that made my stomach flip. His pupils were already blown, not looking away from me as he pulled me down the couch until my ass was barely on it. I sigh as he maintains contact, leaning down and planting a kiss on my pubic bone. 

“Such a perfect little pussy,” he mumbled onto me. The movement of his lips against me made my body jolt. “All for me, too. Fuck,” he pressed his tongue against my clit, moving his head up and down, my eyes following his. He groaned onto me as I wrapped my legs around his shoulders. My hands found their way into his hair making him nip at me in response. “Hands to yourself,” He growled, shoving his tongue into me. His movements became faster and more erratic and his hands squeezed at my thighs. I groaned, trying to focus on him and his movements, but the pleasure that was spreading through me was almost too much. His nose pushed against my clit as he tongue-fucked me, the heat building within me rapidly. My body begged for release as he pulled away, denying me, before standing up and grabbing my jaw and spitting in my mouth. “The things you fucking do to me even after all these fucking years. God I can’t believe I ever let you leave.” His words took me by surprise, but he took me into a needy, heated kiss before I had the chance to respond. His tongue worked its way into my mouth, making the kiss deeper. I reached up toward his pants and began unbuttoning them and waited for him to stop me. If anything, he gave me more access to slide them down. I began to palm him through his boxers, a groan escaping into my mouth. “T-take them off,” he growled before immediately attaching his lips to mine again. I obliged, not waiting before dropping his boxers to the ground. He wasted no time before stepping out of them. My hand connected to his cock, slowly pumping it. He stifled a moan. “Fuck I love the way you fucking touch me. Like nobody else in the fucking world. You drive me insane, y/n.” He pushed me back on the couch as he removed his blazer, throwing it off to the side somewhere in the room. I began to turn onto my stomach but he stopped me. 

“I thought-”

“Just shut the fuck up, will you? You think too much sometimes.” He grabbed one of my legs and draped it over his shoulder. His eyes met mine, focusing on my face as he slowly pushed himself into me. Just the tip. I didn’t look away despite every bone in my body telling me to. He started moving his tip in and out of me, my hands grabbing at his shirt to try and get him to fully push in. I am desperate, and with desperation comes begging, and with begging, I come apart. 

“Fucking hell, Derek please just-” before I could finish my thought, he pushed himself into me. He grabbed my hips and pulled me onto him, filling me up completely. I threw my head back and bit my lip to stifle the moans that were threatening to escape. There was still a party going on outside, afterall. He didn't hesitate before grabbing my jaw, making me look at him. 

“I love seeing your face as you come apart. The face you make when I make you so fucking needy. Fucking hell.” He pulled out of me before aggressively thrusting himself back in. He continued at this pace, forcing me to look at him. “I fucking love everything about you, y/n.” My eyes widened. He’s just high, he doesn't know what he’s talking about right now, right? I felt him twitch inside me telling that he was close. He brought his free hand down to my clit, pushing his thumb against it throwing me over the edge into an orgasm. I whined and he groaned as I clenched around him, his body convulsing as he reached his climax, filling me up. He allowed his body to fall on top of mine and rested his head on my shoulder as he caught his breath. We stayed there for a moment before he got up and put his blazer and slid up his pants. He threw his boxers at me and watched me wipe myself clean.  

“Where’s my underwear?” He shrugged, lazily checking the ground around the couch. I groan and throw his boxers at him. He made a face at me, dodging them. 

“Gross, you could’ve made a mess on my jacket.” I rolled my eyes and pulled my dress back down, leaning back on the couch.

“You said something earlier.”

“Don’t.”

“Did you mean it?” He was pacing again. All he seemed to do was pace. 

“You and I are not… We fucking can’t, okay? This won’t be spoken about again, do you fucking understand that?” Without a word, I grabbed my heels off the ground, stood up and began my trek out of the room. I felt his eyes burning into me as I approached the door, turning to face him as I placed my hand on the handle. 

“Goodbye, Derek.”

3 MONTHS LATER

The day I found out Derek was dead was probably the hardest day of my life. I knew what he was doing, though I didn’t know the extent of how bad it was. I knew he was investing in companies and owned call centers. I thought they were authentic tech support centers. In actuality, he was scamming older people out of money. Billions of dollars. The comments his “friends” made made sense now. I would have stopped him. I could have stopped him if I had just known. He was murdered in the crossfire of some vengeful man in a group called the Beekeepers. Shot him in the head in front of his own mother. 

—--------

I sighed as I sat down on the fresh patch of grass where he was laid to rest. I placed a flower on it. The stone itself had been defiled. I was here once a week to try and keep it in good, well, okay shape. “You are a fucking idiot, Derek Danforth. You should've just…” A tear slipped down my cheek. “Why couldn’t you have just stayed the same. I would’ve fucking married you, dumbass!” My hand hit the ground. I cried silently for who knows how long before I decided to get up. I hesitated, dusting my jeans off looking down at him. “I love you.” I mumbled before walking away, trying to carry on with my life like I never had him to begin with.

[blueiight]

🙄 srsly ur not even gonna publicly defend ur friend when u know folks are completely misrepresenting the situation (and lbr some of that subset of fandom were just waiting to take her down a peg ever since she suddenly got popular). hiding in vague tags when u see people straight up lying abt her is so lame.

Yk i wasnt even gonna engage u or any of these other anons whove been screaming at me since 9 am my time yesterday accusing me of defending harassment or accusing me of being a ‘bad friend’. but ig i got time this morning n ur my springboard for answering them all. I Been Getting phil jackson level of racist troll anons calling me slurs calling for my own death too [which is hilarious lol real deal ppl tried to kill me n im pose to fold cuz anon #50 said die blueiight! like lol ok. at least say it behind ur real blog] & accusing me of being in some evil posse or like u accusing me of ‘not defending ppl’ enough bc i made a half assed delete tag post b4 going to clean up my lab yesterday that essentially said dont use a black woman’s untagged readmore that mentioned nobody as an excuse to harass a particular black woman under the pretext of ‘defending’ much less blame said individual’s emotions for other people’s cruel decisions to harass others. i might as well elaborate. situations where real people are harassed or being talked about require more maturity + thought than someone having a bad opinion on a fictional dynamic. this is not a matter of people's biases impacting their fictional analysis. these are people's biases against real life black women impacting real life black women [albeit on the internet but real ppl r behind these screens!], and i am a black woman myself. im not some 2 faced friend or some anon harasser im a real black woman. n to anyone reading: harassment is not caused by someone else being ‘protective’, online harassment is motivated by an individual/s cruelty. individual writers venting on their own blog r not responsible for anyone else’s feelings or someone else being cruel. u r responsible for as an individual for ur own feelings n ur own actions. no one is or should be so easily influenced by anyone's venting to the point of going to harass someone else. that is not how harassment works and that is wrongfully scapegoating. unless u have proof of someone’s ip or even some conjecture like typing styles to where yk the @s of anyone sent so n so (which ik none of u can pull up bc theres no proof of such) or w/e, ur just talking shit & being messy. u would think a shared interest woud make yall wanna act like u got some sense but yall wanna act like the teenagers u were never allowed to be in cliques over 2d yaoi. why r all u , even other black women, always so fucking weird to black women? willfully misinterpreting everything we say, tokenizing individual black women& attacking when that ‘token’ expresses any sort of feeling like i need all yall to go do sum bout yall selves and get the fuck for real. yall run black women out these fan spaces bc of ur parasitic relationship to their work, then wonder why everything is so white. its cuz the only fan creators u treat like human beings are older white ppl or fans of color that reinforce their views. i see right the fuck thru all yall.

[underworld-skies]

Keep going in circles...

I hate that yall do this. I hate that you don't even realise it. I hate that when I tell you what you did you get upset and go "You're talking about the past. Leave the past in the past." Yet you keep fucking doing it.

I try my hardest to make sure you know I love you. Care about. That I want you in my life. Reassure you constantly. So you end up telling me I'm leading you on and if I don't want you romantically then to try you like I would any other friend. Friends that I haven't dated. Friends that I haven't allowed myself or had the time to get close to on a "I'm okay with physical affection" level. Friends that I only allow to hug me or sit on my lap once in a while (if there isn't a seat left for said friend). So I do that. I go back into my shell and just act and treat you the same as I act around/treat them. And you get upset say "Someone who loved you wouldn't treat me like this. You are my friend why are you so cold to me?" I tell you I have no clue what you're talking about. You then proceed to tell me all things I'm doing and those things line up with how I would treat you if we didn't have the history we do. So then I start using your love language towards then I'm back to leading you on and I'm a dick for it. Over and over again. I literally give you what you fucking ask for and each time I'm an asshole for it. What the actual hell do you want from me? I show you I love you in the language you know you assume I'm in love with you. I show you I love you in my language I'm too cold and distant and don't care.

Yet somehow you are confused why I have a hard time making friends? Why everyone leaves me? Why people believe I'm either really fucking boring or high maintenance? That's shocking to you?

Because when I stick to my comfort zone people find me off putting, boring, cold, heartless. My own mom swears I'll become or was meant to be a serial unaliver for fuck sake. My love language is just sitting next you parallel playing/body doubling, sharing videos and memes and info I think you'll like, Gift giving, telling you be safe, telling you you won't like the consequences youll have if you do something, give you whatever you need if I have it, willing to back up and defend someone i care about even if that means going toe to toe with someone twice my size, and being willing to stay up for hours to (almost) 2 days for someone that needs me or just doesn't want to be alone. I don't hold people. I don't cuddle. I'm quiet. I ghost. I don't tell anyone how I feel or what I'm going through. I'm always the other person's best friend, but they can never be my best friend because they never like the parts of me that are me. The trauma. The anger. The anxiety. The depression. The self harm tendencies. The loud nerd. The hermit. The child who is fascinated by morbid things. The dissociation. The complexity of me. But at this point I have dissociated from myself especially my body to the point where my body literally will act on its own without me knowing giving signals for things that if you ask me about I won't have a clue what you talking about and I more then likely don't want it. To the point my body stole away my ability to say no, has put me in situations I wanted nothing to be apart of. But if I say that to anyone I'm crazy.

At this point I don't know what you want from me. Because this has been happening for fucking years. Even during the time we haven't dated. Even during the times where neither of us liked the other like that.

When I try to explain I get cut off and "corrected". When I try to talk you make assumptions about what I feel rather then listen to what I am trying to say. When I try to say how I feel or explain things, the words come out wrong and what's fucked is a lot of times it's because you won't shut the fuck up for 5 fucking minutes to listen to me so I have to find a way to respond to you and keep on track. And don't fucking tell me to tell you to shut up or to cut off when you do that. Because when I do you get upset at me for it. Because when I do that we get into an argument because out of no where you don't feel listened to even tho I was the one suppose to be listened to in the moment.

Like I do so much. I try so goddamn hard.

I'm myself and it's like it's not enough for you. But when I give you what you want - a mirrored version of you since that's the only language you know apparently is yourself - it's leading you on and too much. But you're in love with me?

Do you actually fucking love me or do you love the mirrored version of you I've created for you? Do you just love all the fucking masks I've made for you? Because it sure as hell does not look like you love me for me.

Because if you did love me then whenever I set boundaries you'd care about them and try harder to remember them and you wouldn't feel some type of way about them. I wouldn't have to repeat myself to you about what I want and what I'm uncomfortable with. You wonder why I have such a hard time setting boundaries with you? Because yall give me so goddamn whiplash it's not funny. No matter what I do I upset you. No matter what I try I fail. Everytime I do what you ask of me I'm the bad guy. But guess what happens when I try doing what I want to do like how sometimes you tell me I should do? I'm still the bad guy😱....shocker...

I love you. I care about you. Fuck! if I didn't I wouldn't have done any of the shit I have done for you. Is that not enough? When I say I'm struggling with finding balance I'm not talking about my comfort vs yalls comfort. I'm literally talking about the balance of the tight rope you, Lou, have set. Because it's either I'm leading you on or I fucking hate you and want you to leave. I'm struggling to find your balance. I'm struggling to find the middle ground where you know I'm just being a friend and that's it.

Also please stop saying I'm in love with you. I'm not. I'm fucking NOT. I have NO ROMANTIC FEELINGS FOR YOU. And I'm getting tired of being made to feel like I'm being pushed to just say yeah I love you let's date again just to make you happy and to stop saying it. Like how many times and how many ways do I need to say I don't have romantic feelings for you and I never want to date you again until you get it through that thick skull that yall fucked up royally when it comes to that. And yeah you've changed and grown so much over this past year. But at the same time you've given me nothing at all that tells me you'd be a safe partner for me. So no. Safe friend for me? Yes. When we aren't dealing with this shit at least. Safe partner for me? No.

And if you just leave me alone about it and just let me care for you in my own way and stop looking for hidden meanings behind my shit we wouldn't fight or argue or be uncomfortable. And I wouldn't be breaking yalls heart almost monthly.

I'm getting tired. After 7 years, I'm getting tired. So stop making it seem like I'm at fault for everything and stop doing shit you know I don't like and are uncomfortable with. Because if you don't one day I will become the villain in our story. And I really really don't want our story to be friends - enemies.

July 16, 2024

[mylifeasmills]

If you wanna be somebody..

I hope that all the people close to me got here. I hope that all the people who support and admire my views came through as well. To get straight to it, Im a new nigga (person). I say this because Im separating myself from all things that serve me no positive purpose in life. And this time Im standing on it. Why? Its bigger than me now. I been fighting for years to get some kind of understanding. So many times I wanted to blame everybody else for my own storm of shit. I wondered so many nights what the problem was. Im not sure how it never dawned on me walking past the mirror. Whole time I’ve been my own worst enemy. Subconsciously answering all of my own questions, just to ignore them and make the mistake I could’ve avoided. For years, Ive surrounded myself with people that were spiraling just like myself. Maybe different situations, but the same attitudes. Ive listened to peoples problems and walked away knowing that they were to blame. But I never had the gall to tell them so. Instead I was enabling them which makes me realize that this sword has two edges. Im just as good for them as they are for me. Ive been lost. But its almost like Ive chosen to be. I sat around and drank my early 30’s away, when I shoulda been BECOMING. All yall out there that told me yall believed in me.. told me I was destined to be a star.. Yall were fucking right. But when cant nobody stop you, guess who can stop you. I owe an apology to my devoted supporters. I took your words, your well wishes, your money.. and I invested it into failure. Whats making a couple hundred dollars off your art if you just gon blow tha shit on Liquor. Whats sitting through a conversation about your greatness, If the words are only fuel for you to belittle others. You aint shit.. just yet. Sometimes it takes going to the rock bottom.. and I mean ROCK BOTTOM to begin to realize that nothing was ever guaranteed. Our greats didn’t become great just because they were good at what they did. They became great because they realized early that they had to protect their dreams. They learned to sacrifice. They learned patience. You think Mike (any one of em) was sittin around gettin fucked up 24/7 when they were chasing their dreams? Denzel? Spike Lee? Na. Its been a long hard fight with self doubt, alcoholism, and fornication. Alcoholism being tha demon that held them all together. It cant have me no more. Im not sure what God has in store for me. Im not sure if Ive f**ked it up yet. But I am sure that I won’t allow that toxicity to keep me away from what’s coming my way movin forward. Im grateful to be here to tell you about some of what Ive been learning from experience these last couple years. And I hope that I inspire you in some kind of way. That part of my journey is complete and Im happy to be stepping into a brighter space. If I ever did anything to offend any of you in these past couple Years, take it light on me. I was prob drunk. Wont happen again.

[devolawrites]

I originally posted this on Twitter, and tbh I'll probably get the worst cringe in a day and delete the thread and this as well but I need people who have commissioned fics from me or at least know my writing to know what the actual mcfuck has been going on with me lately.

Re: status of my fic comms right now.

It's not that I haven't been honest with people, I have been, but probably not as honest bc I haven't been too honest with myself either? I am working on them. They will be finished. I guarantee that. But... I have very high expectations for myself. Ones that are, most likely, unrealistic. I am genuinely running on fucking empty right now and have been for the better part of six months now. Not that I was much better beforehand but it's been the worst in the past 6 months.

I'm very open and honest about being physically ill with fibromyalgia and endometriosis. Chronic migraines. Asthma. Spinal issues and the like. I also have bipolar disorder, ADHD, OCD, C-PTSD and, while not diagnosed, am likely touched by the tism as well. As such, I take (or I should say am supposed to take) a lot of meds daily. I haven't been able to take them bc I've been getting violently ill immediately after taking them and no one can figure out why! I also work full time and have been attempting to finish my masters.

That, right there, is baseline 'what the fuck mary take some time to yourself' but, lol. lmao, even. Then my life fell apart in March. How so?

In the span of one week: someone I considered a family member passed away. I finally allowed myself to be open to someone about how I felt after two horribly abusive situations only to get the kindest, gentlest thing ever said to me while also being turned down INTENSELY. And then found out not even 10 minutes after said FAMILY-ZONED (not even friend zoned FAMILY ZONED do you know how weird it is to tell someone you have feelings for them only to get told 'oh i see you like a sister i've never had' and just wanna die) that your best friend died.

Via fucking Facebook message.

And then that week also be the one year anniversary of my Nana's death which I'm sure still was malpractice but we'll never know for sure and I'm still bitter about it. Needless to say, I spiraled. Very badly.

I was already stressed from paying for fixing my car and finding myself needing the extra money from comms more and more and piling on more work on myself bc lmao bills and making my back log even worse and now I felt horrifically alone and vulnerable and embarrassed. And, to be sure, I still did put work out. But I also struggled with a lot of comms that I genuinely had been excited to take on only to find myself just... unable to do them. For one reason or another. Writers block? Feeling like it wasn't meeting expectations?

I'd ask other writers for help. For suggestions. For feedback. For other angles to approach shit. And I got fantastic advice. And still, nothing budged. I literally had burnt myself out and was still trying to run on empty. On fucking fumes. And I still am. And, I'll be honest, it also did sorta sting when I'd finally get work posted and then I'd just... idk. Feel like it flopped. Either with the person who comm'd it or with people in general and that's bc of how Twitter's algorithm hates creators but it's hard to not internalize.

And it made wanting to write and wanting to work on things so much harder because it became less and less about wanting to do something I genuinely enjoy and wanting to smush yalls Barbies around and felt like an obligation with no reward. And that's not yalls fault, truly. But I internalize that shit really hard and take it as a 'you're not doing this right, no wonder people would prefer others write shit and not you, you can't keep up the schedule you made for yourself.' Which is why my timeline even changed in March.

I tried to make a more realistic turnaround time, with the same disclaimers. I even mentioned to people that they'd be on a WAITLIST. And I still feel like I'm not working fast enough. Not because of any pressure from those who have paid. But my own brain. And it sucks.

Because it's making me spiral and making it even worse and it's a snake eating its own tail because if I can just get out of this fucking cycle of doubting myself and feeling like it's not gonna be worth it, I can conquer this shit. I owe so many people so much and I just... I feel horrible. I know that I should refund like, most if not all of you at this point. I just haven't had the funds to be able to do that, tbfh. I only just was able to get caught up on bills these past 2-3 checks. And if you want a refund, please, tell me! I'll do it!

But I think once this batch I have currently listed on Trello is completed, I'm closing comms for a good fucking long while. And learning how to actually enjoy my writing again. Because right now, I don't. I don't enjoy sharing my work and getting no boosts. No comments. Kudos are nice, don't get me wrong, and I love every single kudos that I get, when I get them. But it's hard to not let the self doubt and self critique fester. And again, this is not any of yalls fault. It's my own. And I don't know how to fix it, tbh.

So, once these comms are up, it's gonna just. Stop. I'll probably work on my own stuff, but I didn't even do any of the ship week content that I wanted to do (wolchefant, wolcred, wolmeric OR wolstinien) because I didn't want to upset those who I owed work to.

So, that's the state of me as a fic writer right now. It's more theory than practice, at this point, and I'm just... I'm trying, I really am. I have so many drafts in my google docs right now and I hate everything I've written so much that I'm starting from scratch every time.

Which is why the Trello has, for the most part, stood still. I'm not blowing you guys off. I just genuinely have nothing to show. And I'm sorry.

[teddybear-shownu]

.

[alyssadeliv]

The Forgotten One

First      Previous

Chapter 11

She always knew she had a Father. When she was younger she used to ask her mother about him. She mostly told her half-truths. She knew his real name, and about his nightly activities. About his time with the League, and how he adopted some orphans along the way. She heard all about him. From Mother, Grandfather, and sometimes other members passing by. From a young age, she had him pictured in her mind. 

But now, sitting in front of him, in his office, she felt silly for ever trying to imagine what he would be like. He didn’t compare to whatever her young mind had conjured at the time.  He was tall, and he had a face that she could only explain as enigmatic. He wore a mask, that she knew. After years of perfection one of her own, she could only imagine what he had been thought to dissociate himself from the people around him. 

The office was simple, but at the same time imposing. It had a desk, behind it was her father paying attention to every word that came out of her mouth, with a large bookcase by her left. All the wood was dark, giving the room a more serious look. To her right, the wall was entirely covered with windows, with its drapes open showing the beautiful big garden outside the Manor. Behind her father, there is a painting hanging. A family portrait. She recognizes everyone in the painting with ease. Bruce is seated, with Damian in his lap, while Jason, Richard, and Timothy are standing behind Father’s chair. It’s an exquisite piece and even though they all are wearing suits, it makes the whole room look homey.

“Why didn’t you come here, after you healed from the attack?” They had been talking for the past hour. Marianne spent most of that time telling him the circumstances of her upbringing.

“I couldn't. My Master thought it would be better to stay longer.” She explains while playing nervously with the hem of the shirt Damian had lent her this morning. He could feel the anxiety coming out of her but was impressed that she kept herself strong and didn’t avoid eye contact. “So we continued with my training, but after some time we discovered a destructive energy that could only come from someone misusing a Miraculous. So it was decided that we would stay and assess the situation.”

“And this person was the fashion designer you killed this week? Gabriel Agreste?” He had a disapproving face, typical of parents disciplining their children.

“Damian made me aware of your no-kill policy, but since this was an Order business I believe you do not have the power to dictate how I dealt with it. I respect that this is your city, but believe or not I was lenient in his punishment. If it was up to me, death wouldn’t have been enough to compensate for all the pain he caused to the citizens of Paris, but I must allow the Gods to decide his punishment, so death it was.” Her speech allows him time to think about the situation. By the end of it he agreed, it wasn’t his business.

“What happened is in the past. I need to know if I can trust you not to endanger the people of Gotham. Who are you loyal to?” 

“I am loyal to myself. And Damian. Trust has to be earned so it is okay that I do not have yours. But trust this: I love Damian, and would rather die than hurt him” Bruce analises her for some time, trying to find any hint of dishonesty on her, but just like his youngest when cornered, her emotions were transparent in her face.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that you remind me so much of… well your mother” He confessed with a nostalgic expression. “When she first brought Damian to live with me I was so shocked. I must admit that my reaction wasn’t the best. He was so grown, that it was hard to get to know him. With the others it was easier, they-”

“They weren’t your blood” She supplies. He looks a little relieved that she understood what he was trying to explain. “But you loved them all the same.”

“I did this once, it was a terrible job. Just know that I’ll be trying my best to- well, accommodate you into this family.” 

“That’s all I ask for.” She replies with a small smile. 

Marianne looked so much like his mother at a young age. He remembers spending hours looking through family album photos when he was younger. Sure he could see traces of Talia in her, but the blue eyes and black hair were definitely a Wayne trait. It scared him. Did he have any other children out there that he knew nothing about? He lost so many years from his children's lives, it pained him to think about what type of childhood they received. Sure, both Damian and Marianne didn’t hide their upbringing, but anyone could see that there were things they weren’t comfortable sharing. He knew from his own time at the League that it wasn’t easy.

“When did you meet Jason?” He had heard from Dick just this morning that apparently there was something that Jason hadn’t told them about his time in the League.

“Mother ordered me to train him after he was resurrected, because of my powers I was the best candidate to help him control the madness inside of him.” She explains, but Bruce could see the faint blush on her cheeks. 

“And you two…” He trailed off, not knowing how to phrase his question.

“Yes. And please let’s leave it at that.” She’s blushing more than she ever did before. The fact she’s talking about her love life in front of her newly acquired father makes the whole situation hilarious, and if she wasn't so mortified she would have laughed. 

“There is one more thing I would like to discuss with you” Marianne begins, uncertain of how the man in front of her would react to her request. “If it was alright with you, could I please have a hug?”

Whatever Bruce thought she was going to ask, it definitely wasn't this. So he stays there in shock, totally still for more time than he realizes. Enough for doubt to appear in the girl in front of him. His daughter. His blood daughter. He had some experience with Cassandra, but he still wasn’t sure he hadn’t totally fucked up with her yet, so this whole new daughter scene was hard on him.

Before she can flee the room in shame of her request, Father rises from his chair with grace, hiding his anxiety behind his perfected mask. In two strikes he is at her side.

The hug feels nice. Not that she would ever confess but the physical touch was something she always missed. The only person that had no trouble with being smothered with her love was Damian, and then later Jason. So, this hug from her father was definitely something she needed.

When they are done Bruce takes one more lounging look at her before dismissing her. He truly needed some time to think of all that had happened in the last few days. It had been almost 4 days since the reveal of the parentage of the girls, so he still had a lot to process. 

So now sitting with a glass of bourbon in one hand, and his cellphone in the other. He did the only thing he could think of. He called Seline.

“Hey… It’s me.”

Hello again everyone! A special thank you to everyone that has been supporting this story! I wasn't sure if I indeed wanted to write a PART 2 to this story, but after all your comments I decided to do so. I hope you all like this chapter, it's shorter than usual, but I still need to figure some stuff about the story, so please bear with me! Let me know what yall think of it!

Next

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[nightswithkookmin]

Hiiii, please response me😭

Honestly I wonder why Jk jealous of taemin when taemin & jimin having friendship?? I mean I can clearly see jk's jealousy. Please answer..... Borahae 💜

Ehhhhhh??????? JK is jealous of Taemin????

That's both an understatement and the most ridiculous thing I ever heard! Lol

Don't be shy, he wants to kill him. Say it! Lmho

Why is JK jealous of Taemin? Sounds like an existential question and I don't want to get into all of that mess.

I just slicked my edges down. Can't have these angry mobs peeling it off by force 🤧

But I get it. I used to find JK and Taemin's dynamic intriguing too but frankly, I'm over it. Lol.

I don't think it's as deep as the fandom make it seem. Especially not in 2021.

Word on the streets was Taemin had a thing for JM? and JK wasn't too happy about that- not sure about that but I can't fault him if ever he did. It's Jimin. Who doesn't want him.

But I think it's more delicate than that.

Besides, Jealousy shouldn't be our only go to label to explain every Jungkook emotion out there where JM is concerned.

Personally, I've sought to revolutionize the term Jeonlous and Jimlous in the way that we as a fandom perceive and think on it as a complex human emotion, one that centers mostly on boundaries rather than frivolous feelings of possessiveness or envy.

So to me, if JK really is 'jealous' in regards to Taemin then I'd assume it's because Taemin breached his personal boundaries where JM is concerned. It's as simple as that.

Which I believe was the case.

I try not to speculate on dynamics other than BTS's as it goes against my better conscience- Yes I have one. Shut up and read. Lol.

I tortured myself to death, figuratively speaking of course, the last time I tried commenting on a dynamic outside of BTS- JK and Mijoo's situation.

I don't think it's ethical...

When it comes to JK and Taemin's dynamic, one thing you should understand is they aren't friends. Not that we know of.

Jimin and Taemin are friends in the same interest group, the Padding Squad. JK isn't a member of that interest group- perhaps because he doesn't share their interests.

Jhope passed on becoming a member of the Padding Squad because his hobbies and interests didn't align with that of the members- Sungwoon. He introduced Sungwoon to Suga instead who then introduced him to JM.

One thing that Jhope said about Sungwoon was that he enjoyed outing which was a lifestyle incompatible with his own.

Now since Sungwoon said he clicked with JM right away, I'd assume its because JM enjoyed going out and stuff like that- among other things.

Jk in those days wasn't known as the outing kind and preferred staying indoors to going out. I think this is one of the contrasts between JK and Jimin's personalities.

So if JM has a bunch of friends who enjoy going out as much, then I don't see how JK would fit into that circle.

Taemin and JK move in totally different circles. They don't have much in common beyond the fact they are both close to Jimin. In my opinion. I could be wrong.

Jimin have said he doesn't like to share his friends but of course we've seen him, Sungwoon and JK hang out a few times. Those three have a friendship going on unlike in TaeminMinKook's case.

It's speculated, Jimin introduced JK to Sungwoon but this was during one of Sungwoon's time off and the three got to hang together which I think is great.

Not sure if, JM has had similar opportunity to introduce Taemin and JK. That would depend on their schedules and what they do during their free time.

Introductions are necessary in friendship culture and we cannot undervalue JM's role in facilitating camaradship between those two.

If they are 'not friends' ask JM why. Smirk.

Their 'differences' and why their 'not friends' to me has more to do with their unique individualities and interests but also their age difference and culture?

Jealousy sounds plausible but you have to consider the fact age is a huge thing in the South Korean culture.

Taemin is much older than JK and ordinarily we cannot reasonably expect for them to be as close much less be friends to begin with- per the dictates of their culture.

As much as we love to rave on about the hyung/dongsaeng dynamics in their culture, from the little I know of their culture, older people and younger people aren't expected to mingle so easily or act so casually.

Besides, hyung/dongsaengs aren't considered friendmates in their culture.

A high level of respect and reverence is required within such a dynamic and boundaries are expected to be upheld at all times too so I guess we can chalk it up to that too I think.

The only way a younger person can be considered friends with or close with or even treat an older person as 'a friend' is if the older one allows for that level of familiarity between them.

Without that kind of permission, their relationship is viewed as strictly an older hyung to younger dongsaeng relationship and formality must be respected by both sides.

I think we've talked about this? This is what JK was going on about in his conversation with Tae in Soop. Tae was giving JK permission to treat him as 'friends' within the group but JK insisted on the formality and boundaries expected between them as hyung as and dongsaeng.

If JK believes he needs to uphold boundaries with people older than him and not get too close to them, what makes you think he would consider older people besides his bandmates 'friends' or treat them casually like one?

The thing about JK, he is a bit cliquey... in my opinion that is. I'm gonna get in trouble, am I not? Chilee.

I often talk about JK and exclusivity or his tendencies for exclusive behaviors....

Once my sister told me, when she first enrolled to uni, how everyone she'd met would ask of her age first before they even asked which country she was from and some of the girls on her floor wouldn't talk to her because they considered her older than them and as such kept their distance or something like that- out of respect for and she had to give those that fuxked with her permission to address her a casual way- personally, I thought they were just being ageists and racists as fuck but then a year into her stay she said she sort of got the hang of it. That it was a cultural thing- Stockholms is real people. Lmho.

Bitxh wouldn't know a friend from a foe. Can't relate. Foe till proven friends!

Gotta smart yourself out here- Hold on...

Is this why I don't have no friends???!!!!!

😥😥😥😥😥💀

Chilee. This is not good.

She explained, most of the people she later became friends with seemed to prefer making friends with foreigners because they felt the age barrier thingy didn't apply there and they had the freedom to express themselves freely with them regardless of their age.

People that are considered 'friends' in their culture are usually people around the same age while a hyung/dongsaeng friendship dynamic often invite brows and gazes- if you know what I mean. A hyung who allows a dongsaeng to be friends with them gives that dongsaeng status at best, at worst is opening the younger one to cultural criticism especially in how the older one is addressed.

So when Namjoon refers to Jimin as a friend it hits hard and reflects how deep and special their bond is as compared to say Vmin or NamHope who are close in age. Same age friendships would have to be qualified to denote how special their bond is. So for Vmin you'd see them going out of their way to talk about that they are soulmates, besties etc.

When JM talks about that all of his friends are hyungs, it a form of social proof. One cannot be friends with hyungs just like that. Jimin is cool and has social status.

If Jimin ever refers to JK as a friend he would be admitting he allows for a certain level of familiarity between them that is out of the ordinary just as his dynamic with Taemin and RM is.

I say all this so you can deep it when an older says to a young one, he is my friend.

RM says JM is his friend.

Mess with Minimoni, I'll stab you.

Taemin says JM is his closest 'friend' in the padding squad- or maybe I misunderstood what he meant but he keeps talking about Jimin and how close they are and how special their relationship is in the media and what not...

Deep it and deep it for JK too. Lmho.

He's lucky he is alive!

In my opinion, JK doesn't do too well around people who pull ranks over him. He tends to have his guard up around them and he tries to maintain formality with them.

It all depends on how comfortable JK is around certain group of friends Jimin has. Just as, it's not all friends of JK JM vibes with. Smirk.

Ok listen, I tried this sane shipper thingy yall recommended, it's not working for me-

If Taemin is not fucking with JK, JK is not gonna be fucking with him. So simple. I tried beating around the bush but chilee JK is not the problem Taemin is. There I said it.

In my opinion of course.

Whatever thing they had going on seemed personal and it could be as a result of anything.

It could be JK doesn't agree with his choices, lifestyle or influence on JM. It could also be Taemin does not approve of JK for JM. It could be he said something JK took offense at. Literally anything.

Whereas JK have reacted strongly to him in the past, I don't think I've seen Taemin have a similar strong reaction to JK. I could be wrong.

To me, he's always laughed those moments off as if JK were overreacting to something trivial- which, it's Jk, I won't put it past him but I find that behavior annoying and condescending as fuck coming from Taemin. No disrespect to Taemin.

For whatever reason, JM has always put his friendships on a pedestal talking about that his relationships is gold to him and what not and he prides himself in the fact he goes out of his way to nurture his relationships.... cool.

Love it for him.

But JK on the other hand has been striving to put up boundaries for JM in regards to the people he surrounds himself with and I don't think Taemin is an exception or was an exception.

JK has a lot of boundaries, I keep saying and they may not be the kind of boundaries you expect to see from him but he has them regardless.

He prefers for instance not to be so casual with people older than him for obvious reasons as he keeps saying, I'd assume it's a value he's tried to pass on to JM several times over the years- what is JM's view on that? Clearly JM has his own values.

JK has said he doesn't have friends and when he started making friends they were all within the same age group- the 97 liners.

JM on the other hand says all his friends are hyungs and he has one same age friend- V. Sidenote: Can't he just make Idol friends within the same age group besides V?

What goes on?!

Do y'all see the conflict of values there?

It's not always about Jealousy if you ask me.

Their values on certain things don't align.

I'm sorry. Lmho.

I mean I have said this several times now!

It's taken JK a hot minute to come to terms with, accept and get used to certain things especially in his relationship and personal life and it shows in the way he talked about 'dressing up' more often in his recent VLive, and how he seems to be acknowledging that he is a celebrity with power and status and he has to be conscious of that going forward.

Contrast that with a two years ago when he didn't even care about how he dressed to the airport and Jm said he had to use tactics to get him to get rid of his old bag or even care about how he dressed.

Significant improvement.

Jimin, as we've said claims he's come to the realization friends ain't shit- the emphasis is mine. Lol.

So I guess my answer to your question is, I don't think JK is jealous necessarily when it comes to Taemin. He reacts to him the same way he reacts to Namjoon or whosoever breaches his boundaries in regards to JM.

And that to me translates as, Taemin doesn't respect JK's boundaries for whatever reason. It could be because like I said, he doesn't think JK has a place in JM's space as his boyfriend, could be because he treats JK as JM's dongsaeng and not his equal partner.

It could be JK doesn't approve of Taemin's friendship with Jimin because he expects Jm to have boundaries especially with certain people around him- I mean I wonder how many of their friends know they are a thing. Can't be all of them💀

That too can create issues with the way they handle their boundaries with either of Jikook.

Or it can be because he is jealous too. We can't know for sure.

Signed,

GOLDY

[duuhrayliegh]

watch your six - part four

pairing: eventual bucky x reader (still a slow burn but it’s getting closer)

warnings: some violence but not really, men being creepy, language (one f bomb), also badly written speaking while crying, aaand i think that’s it

word count: a little over 2300

a/n: aaaah it’s part four babes!!!! the response to this has been so positive i’m in love with y’all!!! <3 <3 <3 i’m still way behind on my classwork and going through a terrible break up but we’re pushing through here

p.s.: my requests are still open if y’all want me to write yall something! aaalso, there’s a bucky short coming tomorrow ;)) <3

series m.list

ray’s m.list

********************************** 

This strange man’s hand was still caressing my hair as he smirked down at me. Running has hands up to the root and then yanking my head upwards to face him directly. “When I speak to you, you look me in the eye, little one.” Not one to show my fear, at least not to men like him, I scoffed. Thick brows shot towards his hairline and a twitch in his jaw as he clenched it. The hold he had in my hair gave him leverage over me. I winced as he lifted his arm to bring my face closer to his. A small whimper escaped the back of my throat, saliva gathering in my mouth. “Don’t test me, little one.” I sneered then spat in his face, the wet substance sticking to his face across his nose and cheek.

Bringing a hand up to his face to swipe the thick liquid from his skin, he glowered as he pulled his palm away. Then several things happened at once. The man forced a harsh breath out and then I was facing the ground with a sting on my left cheek. A gasp left my lips, he just slapped me. Who the hell does he think he is? I shook my head and then leveled my gaze with the man’s. I’m almost positive that my cheek is sporting a bright red handprint that does nothing for my complexion.

“What the hell man? What was that for?” I groaned while attempting to soothe my throbbing cheek on my shoulder. I mean, was it kind of justified? I did just spit in this man's face. No, he totally deserved that. After releasing his grip on my hair, he transferred his hands to the sides of the chair I was chained to. The metal scraping along the concrete floor caused a loud screech to reverberate through the small room.

“I said not to test me, bitch.” the man growled out as he pushed my chair onto the back two legs. I’m starting to think that this is a bit more serious than I originally thought. “Now, you’re going to sit here like a good little bitch and tell me what I want to know.” He retreated only to grab the chair that Suits used. Slamming against the pavement he straddled the chair with his forearms resting on the back.

“How many missions did you participate in?” I released a groan and rotated my head, leaning my head back.

“I already told your friend,” I tilted my head to speak directly to the absolute jerk-wad of a man in front of me, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man quirked an eyebrow and clenched his jaw. He rolled his neck, causing the bones in it to crack and then stood. He walked to the other side of the metal table that sat in the middle of the room. The sound of a zipper caused me to snap my head to where he was standing. The tactical vest he was wearing dropped to the metal surface allowing for a loud thunk to flow through the room. He stretched out his shoulders and swung his arms out in front as if he was trying to increase the blood flow. I’m the one who’s literally tied to a freaking chair, what does he need blood flow for? My breathing quickened,  calm down, don’t show any fear. He popped the knuckles of his hands and approached me.

“I’m not a patient man.” He bent at the knees and leaned his face closer to mine. Exhaling into my face, he maintained eye contact with me. “And you’re not acting like the good little girl we both know you oh-so-desperately want to be.” I rolled my eyes at that, apparently that was the wrong thing to do in this man’s face. His left eye twitched as he stared at me.

“Do you think you could back up? Your breath reeks, man.” I have no concern for my own well-being do I? The man’s head tilted to the side and then he wolfed out a gruff laugh. He shifted his weight to land on the heels of his feet and threw his body into the laugh. It was a bit disconcerting to see this man laughing so wholeheartedly in a situation that didn’t feel funny to me. Another blow to the side of my face was issued, however this time he didn’t stop. Several open handed hits were delivered, all the while he was resetting my head back by grasping my chin. My breathing was becoming labored, my chest heaving up and down in a frenzy. He gripped my chin and jerked it upwards so he could stand at his full height to tower over me.

“How many missions did they send you on?” He demanded, increasing his hold on my face surely leaving sickening bruises that would match his fingers perfectly. At some point, tears began running down my red cheeks.

“I don’t kno-ow what you’re talking ab-about!” Tears streaming down my swollen face, “I s-swear to god, I don’t know wh-what you mean!” Choked sobs were preventing me from breathing correctly. The man grabbed my shoulders and shook my body.

“Calm the fuck down and speak clearly.” Small hiccups were escaping my mouth without permission. Why am I letting this guy get to me? What the hell is happening? “How many missions did they send you on?” I broke down again, fat tears leaking out of my eyes.

“I ju-just want to go h-h-home. I s-swear I don’t kno-ow anything!” I shouted in his face. He glowered at me and lifted his hand from my shoulder. My whole body tensed as I readied myself to the impact.

“Johnson.” The door burst open, stopping Johnson from landing another hit. “This is not what you were supposed to be doing.” Suits walked back in the room. Johnson backed down, lowering his hand and turning to the new member in the room. “Sir, I was told to interrogate the prisoner.”

“Yes, Johnson, interrogate her. Not beat her to a pulp.” He gestured wildly with his hand. “If the boss found out you were doing this, he’d have your head on a platter.” Suits took steps closer toward us and Johnson shrunk into himself. “Get out of here before I call him about this.” Johnson nodded quickly and left the room quickly, leaving his tactical vest on the table.

I was still quietly crying while strapped to the metal frame of the chair. Suits approached me while pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. He raised it to my face and I jolted backwards away from his touch. “Easy now, I’m only here to help.” Is he seriously pulling a good cop, bad cop routine on me right now? He wiped my cheeks of the salty remnants, “Now, how can I help you besides that?”

“You co-could let me go h-home.” I tried to say without stuttering, clearly unsuccessful. I didn’t want to show my emotions but really at this point, could it get worse?

“Awe, girly. You know I can’t do that until you tell me what I want to know.” He began to drag the chair next to me, back to the opposite side of the table. This created an obstacle between the two of us, which made me slightly more comfortable knowing he wouldn’t be able to reach me as quickly.

I heaved a sigh, “but I don’t know anything.” My weeping had come to a definite end, making way for frustration. My face heated for a different reason than being struck several times.

“See, this is where we disagree because I know that you’re lying to me.” He shook his finger in my face and I scrunched my brows together, flicking my eyes between his finger and face.

“You’re kidding me. I told you I don’t know about any missions.”

“Oh really? Then who’s Gemini?” He reclined in his chair, looking smug. “Actually, you know more importantly, who is Libra? The whole thing is just fascinating to me.”

“I don’t know what any of that is. I swear to whatever you want me to.”

“Then why do I have this that says you do.” He held up the manila folder that he first walked in with. I shrugged my shoulders.

“Whatever is in there is lying to you.” He cocked his head to the side and flipped the folder open. He removed a photograph from the folder and placed it on the table in front of me. Staring back at me, was a slightly younger version of myself with shorter hair. A large X was drawn across the whole picture and underneath it read the words ‘Agent Libra.’

My eyes widened, “I have never seen that before, in my life.” Suits sighed heavily and then began flipping through the rest of the papers.

“So what is the Svengali?” He threw out another paper and I glanced down at it. It looked like a typed report of some kind. Much of it redacted by thick black lines. The words Libra, Gemini, and Svengali were visible amidst the sea of dark ink.

*****************************

A ping sounded throughout the room causing the screen of the phone to illuminate. A metal hand reached for the thin device.

New mission alert. You’re needed. Meet at the compound.

Great, this is just what Bucky needed to keep him distracted. Sleep never came easy to him so he was spending copious amounts of time trying to catch up on what he missed out on. Steve told him to make a list and Sam kept rambling on about some gay Marvin man? Bucky much prefered to do things on his own. He hasn’t had help for over ninety years, why should he need it now?

Throwing on his leather jacket as he began to leave his apartment, he checked the pockets for the keys to his motorcycle. He also made sure to grab his gloves. Even though T’Challa and Shuri were good enough to give him a new vibranium arm, Bucky still wasn’t too keen on being stared at in public. It was better for everyone if he just kept the arm tucked away as much as he could while around strangers.

He did one last once over of his apartment before locking the door behind him. He jogged down the stairs towards his bike. It definitely was his pride and joy, it was the first thing that he bought with his own money since 1943. His apartment was courtesy of Pepper Potts, no thanks to Tony’s complaining. Tony and Bucky had eventually worked out their differences, to say the least. Tony still hadn’t fully forgiven the Winter Soldier for killing his parents, and neither had Bucky so they were agreeing to disagree.

The ride to the compound from Brooklyn wasn’t a hard one. It gave Bucky time to appreciate the scenery around him. Slowing to a stop at a four way stop just outside of the compound, Bucky dropped his feet to the tarmac below, stabilizing the bike between his legs. He tilted his head back and felt the warm rays of the sun on his face. Warm was something that Bucky was still getting used to, it was easier in Wakanda. He had his own hut, voluntary therapy sessions, and easy-going check ups with Shuri in her lab.

Everything was simpler in Wakanda, but what Bucky missed most from Wakanda was the stability. He didn’t have to worry about missions, or keeping up with Steve, or the crushing guilt that he felt whenever he saw Tony. After parking his bike at the facility, Bucky made his way to the meeting room. Dark wooden tables in an L-shape appeared in his view. Steve and Sam were standing in front of the large monitor that was displaying images of an unknown, yet familiar looking woman.

“Tony, we don’t know if she knows anything.” Natasha said, apparently trying to rationalize with someone else in the room.

“Natasha, we don’t know that she doesn’t not know anything.” Tony shot back, Sam turned slowly and opened his mouth with a confused expression on his face.

“Tony, we aren’t in an episode of FRIENDS. This is serious. We need to decide if this is worth pursuing or not.”

“Wilson, that’s all well and good but we have to acknowledge that this woman could get us our first real break in our search.” Tony explained while taking deep breaths.

“What are we deciding?” Bucky interrupted as he plopped into one of the chairs. Now that Bucky has been given his freedom back, he’s able to display a difference between his mission self and his regular self.

“This woman here,” Steve gestured to the woman on the screen, “is a member of the Virago. It’s an international branch of SHIELD that was believed to be infiltrated by HYRDA years ago.”

“This is the agent code named Libra. Her last mission was with another agent code named Gemini. The mission report has since been lost to us. All we know is that Libra and Gemini were instructed to watch a Svengali safehouse. Apparently something went wrong and only Libra made it out alive.” Tony added, “Which is why we need to find her and see what she knows.” “Tony! There’s no guarantee that she has any knowledge of this mission.” The redhead stressed as she leaned over the table towards the man she was speaking to.

“I think we should find her.” The words left Bucky’s mouth before he could stop them. All motion in the room stopped.

“Um, did the Manchurian Candidate just agree with me?” Tony questioned as the rest of the room remained quiet.

“Look, I’m not necessarily agreeing with you.” Bucky started.

“Nope, can’t take it back.” Tony mused, “Already said it.” Bucky sighed and shook his head.

“Why do you think we should go after her Buck?” Steve inquired. Bucky’s brows furrowed and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I think I know her from somewhere.”

[normal-thoughts-official]

what are your thoughts about izzy and alec’s sibling bond from the scenes we got from the show

i liked their relationship a lot, actually. which is not to say that it was flawless, but the flaws we got to see were honestly some of what made me the most interested in them. and then of course sh dropped it like a hot potato, but like... it was still pretty interesting to me

disclaimer that this is my own Abused Kid™ stuff projecting for sure, but i still think the way i see their relationship makes sense (or well, i'm not sure if i would say my parents were abusive, but they are quite a lot like the lightwoods in their own way and i definitely consider the lightwoods abusers, so it doesn't really matter that much). so like this will probably feature a fair amount of oversharing lol

anyway! so what i find really interesting and really like about alec and izzy's relationship is that despite the fact that them having abuser parents who honestly put them in very specific "kid who always fucks up" vs "kid who is expected to do everything perfect" roles, they managed to still be friends and on each other's side and have an overall very loving and supporting relationship. i think that's what attracted me to their sibling bond the most, because for decades me and my brother didn't really manage to be close or build a relationship precisely because of those roles. in our case, my brother was the fuckup kid, i was the kid who had to always be perfect (in my case, lowkey to "compensate" for him) and it led to him resenting me and being all but afraid of me because everything i did seemed to be so much better than him in my parent's eyes, so... yeah

so it always struck me as pretty interesting that alec and izzy seemed to be genuinely so close. izzy is one of the few people who gets alec to smile and who gets to ever touch alec, and although they have a lot of differences, it always came down way more to teasing than to actual fighting between them

but also - which is partially why i said that their flaws were part of what drew me to them the most - the tensions that emerged from that abusive background were very much there, and i found that pretty interesting

another disclaimer that i tend to relate to alec more, because i was in the same role as him, but also tend to be very forgiving towards izzy because i see my brother in her and i blame myself for our relationship way more than him since he was the weakest link there lol. but also in part i think i project unto her in the sense that i kept trying to make things easier to my brother, but i kept fucking up because i didn't fully understand his situation, and i definitely think that's what went on with izzy and alec

so let's get into the details of how the whole "fuckup kid" vs "golden kid" (and disclaimer before ppl come yell at me again: i'm not saying that alec was treated well by his parents or that they treated him like he was good enough, because they definitely didn't. i'm saying that when compared to izzy he was considered the kid that had potential, that could be trusted, and who had the most amount of pressure put unto. again, that was how i was treated by my parents, so miss me with the "wow you think alec had it easy?" shit because i know damn well he did not lol. the "golden kid" is an abuse archetype and therefore it means you are abused. calm down) thing affected their relationship in particular

so alec was the eldest, and i think from very early on he latched unto the expectations his parents had for him as a way to protect himself and make sense of the world. i was telling autistic alec anon just today how i think that the fact that shadowhunter culture was so black and white and gave alec such a clear sense of what he was supposed to do and who he was supposed to be kind of helped him navigate the world because it made it easier for him to figure out the path to follow when everything else was just so confusing and the expectations were so crushing and everything he felt was so complicated. i think alec's always known that he didn't conform, and because he didn't have a safe outlet to let that out, he decided to just go by the book to protect himself. which is valid

that being said, i think the other half of the reason why he decided to pursue the "perfect shadowhunter" existence so hard was exactly because of izzy (and later jace and max). because again, alec is the eldest, and he was already being crushed by expectations of upholding the lightwood name and following the rules and whatnot. like, maryse and robert basically expected their kids to undo all the shit they had done when they joined the circle, and they didn't even tell them that that was the reason, so they were probably just taught that they should do what the lightwoods said because and that was that. and because there were all these stakes that they didn't even understand or know about, the pressure was harder

and alec was already being taught to be a leader, and he loved his sister, so he probably wanted to shield her from all the pressure of those expectations, because he knew he was out there fucking killing himself for it. so i think part of the reason he tried so hard to be perfect was because, if he was perfect, izzy (and then jace and max) would get to breathe a little bit. alec is pretty self sacrificial and definitely has a tendency to shoulder suffering in the place of ppl he loves, so i don't think that's far fetched. also, we saw how alec literally shouldered all the blame for jace's fuckups, despite the fact that jace did it all behind alec's back and with alec telling him not to do it (i'm saying jace because from what i remember what got alec punished in particular was something that jace and clary did, not izzy, but izzy was definitely also going against whatever alec told her to and i have no doubt that he would shoulder the blame for her as well, although i don't think she would use that against him, unlike some people. but i digress). but alec just allowed himself to be punished for it like it was on him, so i think it makes sense to believe that alec tried to take the brunt of their parents' pressure so izzy wouldn't have to

and the thing is that i think that izzy... never realized that. i mean, i'm sure she realized that alec was trying way too hard to be what their parents expected of her, but she never realized that she was part of the reason. and she tried to get him to rebel a little bit because she thought that he needed it, and i mean, she was right, but what she didn't realize is that the fact that alec didn't rebel was so she could. not that izzy was not facing consequences for her rebelling, because we saw how maryse treated her versus how she treated alec and jace (it's very interesting to me also how once jace came into the picture he became an actual golden kid, not a "golden kid" like the abused kid who is put as impossibly better than the other one but still never good enough, but actually good enough, and how that was used to put alec in that position where he had to work even harder as well. but that's for another post)

and that's the frustrating part (and i think the part i relate to izzy for the most) because i think she was genuinely trying to help? but she never really understood alec. i was also talking earlier today (or was it yesterday? rip my time blindness but it was definitely recent) about how many people seem to understand alec's coming out story as an internalized homophobia story, and how i don't think that's how it was at all. i don't wanna repeat myself so if anyone's interested in that it's here. and the thing is, i think izzy made the same mistake. she falsely assumed that alec didn't rebel because he genuinely internalized that being gay was bad and because he was lying to himself about it, but that wasn't the case at all. alec knew he was gay and accepted that, he just decided to stay in the closet and live life that way. which obviously is horrible and traumatic, but it's different, and because izzy couldn't tell the difference, she made it worse

izzy kept trying to make alec "accept" himself, but alec didn't really have a problem accepting himself; he just wanted to keep that a secret to protect himself. but because she thought that he was in denial, she kept trying to push him to... not exactly admit because i wouldn't say she was all like "alec just say it you'll feel better" but to maybe "face" it, and alec interpreted that as her demanding that he came out of the closet, which he couldn't do. so he kept closing off and she kept interpreting that as him being in denial, so she kept pushing, and she made things infinitely worse for him even if i am 100% sure her intentions were good (just look at how protective she was of alec and magnus during the beginning of their relationship, or how she tried to get maryse and robert to marry her off instead of alec, or the difference between how clary and jace talked about it - "you're in love with jace"; "this is about your feelings" - and how izzy talked about it - "alec, it's okay") but as we say in brazil, hell is filled to the brim with good intentions

that is not to say that izzy didn't go on that straight shit from time to time ("we all got our things, don't we?" comes to mind, but i gotta say it really pisses me off how everyone talks about izzy being homophobic in that scene and completely ignores how openly racist alec was. like obviously both are fucked up, but yall clearly seem to think only one of these is a problem. but that's for another post) but i think that generally her intentions were always to get alec to be more comfortable with himself/happier. she noticed how much the lightwood's expectations were crushing him, but again, she didn't realize that alec was choosing to take the brunt of these. she didn't realize that he couldn't rebel like she did because of her. not until it was too late

i think izzy only started to realize that - particularly how much of her rebelling was only allowed because alec was there as a safe option so they couldn't afford to have a "fuckup child" even if obviously they still hated that they couldn't control izzy - when she tried to get the lightwoods to marry her instead of alec and they were like... lol? it's alec who's supposed to save the lightwood name, not you. you are worthless as a bride and as a peace offering

and that's when it hit her that alec was taking a role, a role that he had been effectively protecting her from having to take, but that also meant she couldn't help him

i think that's when she realized, because you can see the change in her behavior, you know - "you stood by me, so now i'm standing by you, big brother". she understood that alec was trying to protect her the same way she had tried to protect him and never realized, but that by trying to get alec to just stop without thinking about what the greater picture was for him, she was just making things harder for him. i think that was some very interesting growth we got to see

and on the other hand alec didn't realize that izzy had been trying to protect him as well. like i think that she definitely laid the whole "fuckup kid" thing too thick, which was partially for herself, like, basically embracing the role because she would never be good enough for the lightwoods so why not just accept that she was a fuckup and be everything they despised? but i think she also partially did it for alec, because she wanted to show him that it was okay. that there could be a life that wasn't just doing what your parents expected you to. and like, sure, she got treated like shit for it, and she faced some forms of abuse that alec didn't (mainly touch/affection withdrawal from what we got to see in the show, but also considerable more verbal degrading. again im not saying alec had it easy, especially because we know that the parts where maryse expressed "pride" over him were basically used to make him do what she wanted; but still, the difference in treatment is very clear), but she was still standing, so it was possible, see?

i don't even think this is something i had to defend a lot because she said it so many times? she was always telling alec that he could loosen up, that it was okay (she said the exact words "it's okay" many times). she had a kinda, idk, sassy attitude over it, generally treating it like a joke, but imo that was because she knew that if she talked about it in all seriousness alec would shut down, like he had many times. so i think by making it into a joke and playing the mindless "woo i don't care about anything" character she was trying to have that conversation in a more subtle way. at the very least, alec was amused

and i think a huge part of the fandom also misinterprets izzy as being exactly that shallow person who only thought about immediate gratification that she pretended to be but honestly i don't see that at all? throughout all of season 1, the single thing that drove izzy's character was her desire to protect alec, except for when she tried to save meliorn from him, which was like.... just the decent thing to do. and izzy is not a shallow character. she is not stupid. and she is not primarily driven by her own desires. that is not to say that izzy was never selfish (see: how she treated raphael, so much shit about sizzy), but she is not the kind of character who only does whatever the fuck she wants to because it sounds more fun that's jace and clary. most of the time, her primary motivation was to help alec or clary, aka people that she loves. i think that, like alec, she is the kind that only extends that protectiveness over the people closest to her and is not really the "helping everyone out" type, but she is also not completely self-absorbed like she pretended to be. and i don't think she even cared all that much about parties and whatnot. like when did we see her going to one on her own without it being a mission? when did we see izzy actually pursuing one night stands? that is not to say that these things are bad, but if izzy were that girl who only cares about sleeping around and having fun like she pretended to be, then one would think we would see her actually doing that instead of just performing that shallow mindless sexy girl stereotype?

and like look i know that she was written to be a sexy lamp or whatever but if the writers aren't gonna care enough about her to make that consistent and show her doing that beyond what she says i might as well go there and give her the depth that she deserves. especially because we got to see izzy talk about that so much. like her saying that one of the things that attracted her to raphael was that for once in her life it didn't feel like everything was all about sex. i find it appalling that people genuinely think that that's all she's about when she made it so clear that it bothered her. like imo izzy took on that role, again, to piss off her parents, and also because it was something that she was good at. she was good at being sexy and she got gratification and positive feedback over that, which she was obviously starved for since her own mother wouldn't even fucking hug her. it was the one thing she didn't fuck up at and that got her to feel like she was treasured, even if really she was just desired

not just that but izzy also consistently made hard choices for those she loved? like im not gonna say that izzy going to save meliorn from torture was anything less than the bare minimum but if she were that shallow self centered persona that only wanted to have fun and didn't care about the consequences she wouldn't have put so much on jeopardy to save them. or risk being deruned and losing everything so she could call the clave out on their bullshit. or break up with meliorn (someone we know she genuinely liked) so she could offer herself to be married off to someone in alec's place. the one thing that we know izzy would be miserable over, because that woman was not born to be no one's trophy wife. and she was fully ready and willing to throw her WHOLE life away for alec. that would be FOREVER. miss me with that "izzy is a shallow girl who only cares about herself and partying" shit

like to me it's very clear that that was a front (especially because the way she talked about it was SO over the top too, like, it sounded so fake. and when we got scenes of her talking to alec or to clary she was a wholly different person, way less confident, way softer. honestly izzy could have been such a great narrative about woc and hypersexualization and the traps of taking over that "femme fatale" role as a form of empowerment or whatever, but of course sh doesn't have the range for that) and i think that front was first and foremost for alec's sake. she was trying to break him out of the lightwood's brainwashing. what she didn't realize was that he wasn't brainwashed, he was making a choice between the very bad options that he had. and alec in turn didn't realize that izzy acted the way she did, in great part, for him, not for herself. i wouldn't say that alec bought that izzy was a shallow girl because we know how much he loves her and that he knows her better than anyone, but i think he also didn't realize she was trying to help/protect him

so it was such an interesting miscommunication issue and i would have loved to see that actually addressed and worked on, but alas. the most we ever got was them talking about being honest to each other about the yin fen. and izzy pretty much didn't get real plotlines or character development anyway daoijdaoij except for the absolute bullcrap that was the yin fen which i am not going to get into because it makes me so angry and i hate it so much

and then of course sh didn't really get into it and basically considered the problem solved once alec came out, which i mean, i guess does take that out of the way when it was the main miscommunication problem between them, but still, they should have had a talk and realized what a stupid dance they were both having and how they would have both benefitted from working together instead of in the name of each other. which is a frequent trope for alec in relationships anyway, too, so it could be a good introduction to these issues, but alas!

in short: i think both alec and izzy love each other very much, have each other's best interests at heart, but weren't really seeing each other as they were. and they both put a front for each other (izzy in particular) that made communication pretty much impossible. and they ended up not being very good for each other (particularly izzy for alec, but i think alec also made her feel alone and like he saw her as.. just some stupid girl, you know?), but i loved to see how these things were there simultaneously. the wanting to help each other and the effectively only making things worse. the love that was so present and so strong despite all of that. the way that they never became competitive or resented each other like kids who are raised with those dynamics usually get. i just love how there was so much going on and so many problems but still so much love between them. i really wished we got to see it actually get some sort of closure and more exploration, but. fuck me i guess

[khenzyblog]

Yall wanna hear something upsetting that I had recently come to realize?

The reason I am a Lucid Dreamer

Fucking buckle up.

As a child my step mother took away the vast majority of my toys.(I had a few hidden) I was not allowed to do most anything. I would get screamed at on the daily and sent to my room crying over something I had no idea what I had done and I felt unloved.

Again, this was almost daily.

So I had learned if I stayed quiet in my room she wouldn't come to yell at me for something I didn't do or something I did incorrectly.

I had nothing in my room but a bed and dressers. Even my mirror was covered because she didn't want me looking at myself.

So I would stare at a wall and drift into a daydream. I'd dream of a different reality where I was happy. And I had started doing this to the point where I was almost always in a daydream. It was better than what my reality was.

So I had trained my subconscious to "day dream" while I sleep. So that I could control my night dreams as well. Because at LEAST I could control my dreams..

Which is why now as an adult I'm controlling (not in the narcissistic abusive way) and I lucid dream.

I freak out when I feel like I have no sense of control in a situation.. because my poor child brain only knew that when I couldn't control something, I was being abused by the step mother.

How fucking sad and traumatic is that. Like what the fuck.

I try to say that I've forgiven her and that I love her. But FUCK.. then I think back on the absolute BULLSHIT she put me through and I hate her all over again.

Oh and GET THIS. I fucking WANTED HER APPROVAL.. I wanted her to tell me she loved me. I wanted to hear "I'm proud of you"

And deep down. I still fucking do.

Fuckin bullshit.

[missifeoma]

I Picked These People

I know, I know. Our lives have suffered damaged by the sets & patterns of manipulators who really need to take accountability for what they do to others, what they did to us. So saying, “I picked these people” sounds like US taking THEIR blame. But it’s not! Hear me out...

When I first started this Tumblr, I was angry. Point-blank-period. And I still am. However, the more informed I have gotten about manipulative people, I have begun to view them as I should and MOST IMPORTANTLY view myself as I should.

Once you realize you have been involved with manipulators it hurts. What I am learning from the experience FOR MYSELF (so I’m sharing this in case it helps anyone else in the effort of moving forward because let’s face it yall, WE CANNOT STAY HERE), is that being involved for any length of time with people like this will steal your power. Your goal needs (as quickly as possible) to become TAKING YOUR POWER BACK! Do so quickly in a sense that you keep it at the forefront of your mind that THAT is now the new goal ALONG WITH acknowledging all your other feelings that are valid like anger, hurt, disappointment, sadness, disbelief...I need not go on.  We ALL know those heavy and dark feelings that come with realizing you were just a puppet in someone’s ego-centered plan.

View ALL OF THAT AS YOU WILL but view yourself in the process. View what you can do going forward to prevent yourself from finding yourself in another situation that wreaks of manipulation. It’s just a new situation with a new person because the truth is, getting involved in another situation CAN become a pattern for ourselves because we’ve fix our eyes and hearts on OTHERS’ needs and not the needs of OURSELVES. We have to detach from OTHERS’ and connection to OUR OWN INNER SELVES. And ASAP! Aren’t you tired of overlooking things? I got SICK of overlooking things and sensing myself ignoring that little feeling you get that is your SELF trying to advocate for you, to protect you, but you’ve ignored it for others for so long, it’s gotten natural for you to dismiss it. Maybe you don’t even feel the sensation anymore. THAT’S NOT GOOD!

We picked these people too. No, we didn’t know they were going to be a nightmare to our psyche but we participated. Once we take accountability for our own participation, and realize we’re not going to die by telling that truth, we can start to take responsibility for making a NEW DECISION whether that is to leave and go no contact or to set boundaries that create low contact (because you have to remain involved like for children or maybe for work).

You want to be loving and devoted and loyal and reliable, etc. to someone you are involved with right? Why don’t you think you should receive that from them? Even more, why not spend time seeing what it feels like to give all of that to yourself? Giving all of that to yourself raises not only your own self-awareness but also your self-worth. As you begin to do that, you can begin to develop boundaries that reclaim your power. You will begin to see more immediately, “Hey, I feel good when I advocate for my needs to be meet, it helps me find who is FOR ME,” instead of being this person in the world that is here just FOR OTHERS.

You matter. You’re worthy. You’re valuable. You deserve to receive what you give AND WITH NO HIDDEN AGENDA and NO STRATEGIZING AGAINST YOU.

I’ve been taking the time to establish all this for myself. It’s not easy. It triggers my depression and anxiety so I get tired at times. Sometimes I feel stupid for these connections I not only allowed myself to participate in but to then allow them to continue on for silly reasons such as “but we have a history”. SO FUCKING WHAT about having history or not wanting them to THINK XYZ about us (they’re going to think bad ANYWAY, that’s what they do when you put your foot down and stop feeding their ego)! It’s possible to move out those unhealthy connections, work on our mindsets, and build healthy history with other people that ARE NOT in our lives to exhaust, manipulate, and discard us.

Love yourself.

TAKE your power back. It’s yours.

[golbrocklovely]

You're very stubborn too, i noticed. You have your opinions and no matter what people tell you they're not going to change your mind. Your replies often seem very dry and cut because you want to be nice but at the same time no matter what people say you see things the way you see things and will not be persuaded otherwise. You answer asks because you dont want a bunch of unanswered asks in your inbox but in reality you dont care about a lot of the stuff that gets sent in because you already have your mind set.

This is not an attack just an observation.

i mean... you're not wrong lol

i know i'm stubborn and i have my beliefs set on certain things and people. but i don't see that as a problem because i believe everyone can be stubborn about something.

we all have our set opinions about things. we all have "unpopular opinions" too.

for example, guacamole is gross. salsa is superior. you cannot tell me otherwise.

but to get back onto what you were saying...

i have my ask box open and on anon because i want ppl to come on here and vent their frustrations about whatever fanbase they are in. that's why i get asks about fanbases i've either never heard of or don't have opinions on.

i know what it's like to go against the grain when it comes to fandom opinions and thus feel like you can't say what you want to because you know you're gonna get hate. no one deserves that. even ppl who i fully disagree with that come on here and send in an ask, i'm never gonna be mean to them. i will be cut and dry, but i won't be rude.

that being said, there are certain situations that happen that i just, full-heartedly and transparently, don't have opinions on. it could be because i don't know the situation that well and are only going off of what the person sent in, or it could be that i don't know the influencer that well, and thus can't tell if this is a pattern to watch out for or just a one-off time they weren't at their best.

because that's how i feel for most influencers; not all, but most. we get a miniscule look into any influencers' lives on the semi-regular. there are gonna be times when they don't act at their best. there are gonna be times when they fuck up and do something wrong. does that give us the right to full on hate them now because of one fuck up? it depends on whether or not that fuck up was terrible and unforgivable, or just a random everyday-type of fuck up.

you wouldn't want ppl to hate you for one screw up, right?

let me use the example of tara and the previous asks i've been getting about what she did on jc's stream, since this has been the only time i've ever fully said 'i don't care about this situation'. now, i have a generally positive outlook towards tara. i like her content. i don't watch it that regularly to call myself a fan, but i do like it. i also like her relationship with jake, and i think overall i like her and her personality. that being said, from what i've been told about what she did on jc's stream, do i like what she did? no. cursing out his chat and maybe being overdramatic wasn't the best thing for her to do. if i was in her shoes, i wouldn't have played the game in the first place, but that doesn't matter. she knew what the game was and then didn't want to play it, but wanted the benefits. i get how that could upset someone.

do i now have a negative opinion about her because, to put it bluntly, she was a sore loser and stubborn? no. i still like her. what she did was forgivable. it's a one off time of her not being nice. i'm not gonna hate her now because of it. i also don't see these things as negative because i am these things as well lol

not to mention, i haven't even seen the stream. so yall could be full on lying to me (i don't think you are, but it's always a possibility). and because i know how good of a person she is, or at least i believe her to be, i'm not gonna change my opinion of her. if she acted like this all the time, then i would consider not being so positive towards her. but, that's not the case.

and also, because i'm not a huge fan of her, i don't care how she acted. i care that you guys are upset at what she did. i feel for you. that doesn't now mean i have to hate her. what she did didn't negatively effect me, and thus i don't have a full emotional opinion about it.

but if you do, you're allowed to feel that way. even if you didn't see the stream, don't know who she is, whatever the circumstance, you're allowed to be upset at her and now dislike her. i'm not saying you can't. i'm just saying because i don't care about the situation that much, i'm not gonna change my opinion about her.

i wanna make this clear that i don't really hate anyone that snc associates with, besides elton and brennen. those are the only two i dislike. but everyone else, i have positive feelings towards. that being said, i'm not a fan of them. i don't mean that negatively, i just mean i don't watch their content, don't follow, and don't really know anything about them. when you guys send in asks about these ppl that are negative/them doing something to upset you, i feel for you. i'm upset that you're upset. that's why i usually tell ppl that if an influencer is pissing you off at every turn, cut the tie. stop following them.

but unless the person did something morally corrupt or just super wrong imo, i'm not gonna hate them or change my feelings towards them.

have you ever looked at a gossip magazine cover and read the headlines and didn't have reaction towards any of them? that's how i feel for a lot of things influencers do.

if that makes me stubborn, so be it.

[galaxytale]

mmmm…. i have new thoughts about my ex and i’s situation.

i know i have rambled on here in the past about them. often bitterly and angrily. to be honest, those words came from a place of immense hurt and betrayal. a lot of pain and a lot of complex emotions that i needed to vent out and process. and the way i did this previously was… rather embarrassing and harmful and not good for anyone. but it has been a long year, and i have had much to think about. and my brain does not like to process many of these things in a normal way. i often just use this blog as a place to barf out my thoughts at random so i can work out whats going on in my mind. this doesnt excuse it but i hope it allows for some understanding.

its been a long time since my ex and i broke up. and i just… idk didnt know how to deal properly. but i think about them a lot. obviously. what you see is mostly the negatives. the frustrations and the confusions and the residual aches and pains. mostly because these are what im trying best to understand. i want to understand them, i want to understand their perspective. it frustrates me when i cant understand, and it frustrates me more when i feel as if they couldnt understand me or didnt even try. but i still care for them greatly. which is why i get frustrated. i do not think many people understand this. i want to understand why they hurt me. i want to understand how i hurt them. i want to learn and grow. but to do that i also have to experience and process the anger and frustration i felt towards them. this is what you all see when i ramble and rant.

anyway this is the last time im doing this publicly because honestly this is a stupid way to process stuff this and i figured out something way better. also im just. tired of it. im tired of being angry and being hurt. that doesnt mean itll stop but. yall wont be seeing it.

i still hold many of my previous thoughts and criticisms of them. and i still consider many of these valid and fair. and i still deny ever doing many of the things they accused me of because ive spoken with other people about them - people actually involved in the situation(s), and they have supported and corroborated my side of the story as well as my feelings regarding those various situations.

however i have come to some realizations that i think allow me to better understand parts of their side of it all.

ive realized some things about myself and how my mind functions that have lead me to other realizations. these realizations include that i misunderstood a lot of things they were trying to get me to do, tools they were trying to get me to employ, things that actually would have been helpful to me had i understood. i see now that in some of the cases they were pushing me on and making me extremely uncomfortable with, that they were genuinely trying to be helpful because they cared. because they were trying to help me just as i was trying to help them.

the problem here is that i was not ready for, and did not understand a lot of the new things being pushed at me. much of what they were trying to get me to engage with were therapy techniques and stuff to learn to cope better. unfortunately due to a lot of previous bad experiences with therapy and such techniques i am extremely adverse to and suspicious of therapy and therapeutic settings/techniques. combined with a lot of new information about myself that i needed time to adjust to and process. a lot of it scared me and i needed them to slow down and be gentler with me in this rather than throwing me in the deep end and expecting me to swim.

i misunderstood a lot of the tools they were trying to offer me - how to use them properly and why. i thought i made this obvious that i didnt understand a lot of it and in fact didnt want to engage with a lot of it outright - even though i was willing to try. the issue is i also needed a good example or instruction of what they wanted from me and… well. they did their best, this i know they tried, but it was not enough for me to understand what they really wanted from me.

i now understand that this is likely why they grew frustrated with me. and this also factors into something that ive come to realize and understand about myself - in fact its one of the things they criticized about me most… ive come to understand the true nature of what the thing i did that they hated most was actually. and ive since worked out a solution to it that actually has been shown to be far more effective and efficient in doing what the thing they were criticizing me about most was doing. this took a lot of work and a long time for me to come to the realization of what it was that i needed to do and how it worked. and i needed to be allowed to make this discovery on my own time, at my own pace to be able to accept it as part of how i work.

unfortunately due to a lot of things, i was also quite terrible to them myself. and i recognize this. i recognized it before - i tried my best to fix my understanding of it but i did not know what i didnt know. i did not know, and did not understand, what i now know and understand. but much of my actions were because i was scared, confused, uncomfortable, and dealing with a whole lot of shit outside of our relationship. and i am genuinely and truly remorseful for what i did. i was remorseful back then, and i still am now. i did some bad things and i know this. i speak of it vaguely here because honestly while im just shouting to the void i still know this is a public blog and theres a chance people will actually read this and frankly. i consider it none of their business unless they were involved. i did lash out at them, and i did treat them unfairly.

however i still feel as if they refuse to acknowledge my point of view in much of this, as well as that they lashed out at me and have refused to acknowledge and apologize for it all. i have never heard them say the words “im sorry” for any of the things i consider the worst things they did to me. much of the time they refused to even acknowledge the fact that a lot of it hurt me despite me outright stating such. they also refused to acknowledge that i had repeatedly tried to assert my own boundaries with them and refused to accept a new boundary when it was drawn.

they did a lot of terrible things to me in return. including things that they, themself, accused me of doing to them initially. i still deny these accusations and consider myself completely innocent (at worst, should my own memory really be that faulty, i consider myself only having caused a huge misunderstanding among friends as well as having accidentally fucking up something that left out important context). i feel this way because they would not produce any evidence to prove to me my own actions that would negate the memories i myself actually have as well as the evidence in support of my side of the case that i have. all they could provide was testimony from a person who would not have had direct access to either side of the conversation that they are alleging happened a certain way. a conversation that i, personally, was half of. a conversation that i spoke with the other half about again, after showing them what i was being accused of, who also verified my recollection of the events.

i feel as if they refuse to even consider my perspective. i felt this way for a good amount of the relationship, and i still feel this way. i feel that they refused to communicate with me and ensure that both of us completely understood the other. i feel that they refused to be considerate of my needs and respectful towards me as a person after a certain point. i feel as if they refused to work to compromise with me on many situations, and i feel that they often tried to demand of me many things that were unreasonable, and that they often moved goalposts or failed to deliver on their end of the deal when i still bent over backwards to do something for them.

however. i do also feel that at some point in time, they did genuinely care for me. and i do feel like i would like to apologize for the new places where i realize i caused them undue stress and frustration.

but i also feel that they would not accept this apology for those parts that i now recognize my own hand in without me accepting and apologizing for the narrative that i know is false. additionally… i do not feel as if they would accept or apologize for any of their own parts in the situation. i still feel theyre likely to reject that they hurt me very very deeply, and badly in return.

as much as i would like to start the conversation of potentially working out the issues and reconnecting as friends… i still feel as if they would view this as an impossibility. because i feel they view me as something of a monster, and not as someone who was under immense amounts of stress and pressure and was very confused and scared for months on end.

i recognize its very likely their feelings echo my own. except for the portion about potentially being friends again… i feel as if this is a forgone conclusion to them that it will not be happening.

all this said…

i also want to say this. in hindsight they were right about the tool they gave to me for one of my specific issues. the one they gave me before the start of it all. the one i was extremely adverse to accepting and trying to adapt to. i did not understand what its actual purpose was for at the time, nor did i understand how they actually meant for me to use it. because of some recent things ive learned about myself, as well as have been able to actually accept, i now understand what they meant. and ill admit that they were right about this one. its really helpful now that i understand what i was supposed to do with it.

they were right and i was wrong. simple as. at least, in regards to this one thing.

[savedbybangtan]

Let Me Love You

Summary: She lucked out one too many times. Luckily, Jimin was there to ‘save’ her.

2,916 words

Warning tags: smut, dubcon, stalking, possessive, unprotected sex (wrap it up yall), slight yandere?

                                         Let Me Love You

Food.

Water.

 Death.

 Three things immediately popped out in your mind that you begged for, that you needed.

These days, the pain in your body didn’t even allow you the few seconds to fantasize that you were in your parent’s home on a weekend morning where you did not have any work today. The pain was too great for you to ignore so that, as soon as you woke up, you were reminded of your grim premise.

You open your eyes, too tired and weak to be disgusted by the scent of yourself, vomit, and reliefs that were soaked into the naked mattress in the floor. There were two small windows on one wall, short and almost reaching the ceiling indicating that you were in a basement, but sunlight never shined through them. They were being blocked from the outside.

Footsteps could be heard on through the thin ceiling. It sounded as if he were entertaining guests with given the thumps of the music and feet.

If you called out right now, you may be able to alert one of the guests to help you out this situation.

You knew it wouldn’t make any sense. He would find you. Besides, your throat was too weak to make any sound above a hoarse whisper and the music was too loud.

Someone opens the door (the only entrance to the basement) that sat on top of a long staircase. Dim lights filtered in and you squinted at it, sensitive to the light.

The door is closed but you made out the silhouette before you were engulfed in darkness again.

“Hi, sweetheart. I’m entertaining upstairs – so I can’t stay for long – but I really missed you and wanted to see you,” you heard the angelic voice apologise to you.

“…min…Ji-min…” you managed to hoarse out.

“What is it, baby?”

“Thirsty.”

“Already? I just gave you water and food two days ago,” he chuckled. I couldn’t see him, but I could tell he had that wicked glimmer in his eye that did not go with those rose powdered cheeks he sported by now.

He walked to a corner of the room, far from where your chain would allowed you to reach, if you were even able to walk. The light from the fridge illuminated his outfit. He wore a black turtleneck, black jeans and of course, black boots. When you had first met him at that bar, he wore the same colour palette. If you only knew.

He came back with a bottle of water that he poured slowly into your mouth as you drank in large gulps.

“What do you want to eat,” he asked sweetly – the same tone he used when he asked what you were drinking that night.

You hesitate to answer.

“I can promise you I will probably have anything you ask of me. I know all of your favourite foods and bought them.”

                                                            🌃

The blue and lime green lights darted manically about the bar. It was loud and filled with cigar, weed, cigarette, and hookah smoke. The scent, four gin and juices, and bottle of wine (that was finished before you even entered the club) had you feeling free. You didn’t want to think of your dumb boyfriend who broke up with you because of a few male friends you kept.

You didn’t want to think about your so called “friends” who had taken his side.

You definitely didn’t want to think about how you were fired, yet again, for rejecting the advances of yet another coworker. They tell you to report the matter to HR, but you believed in an eye for an eye. Someone who smacks someone’s ass should get smacked across their face – not relocated to another desk.

You danced crudely to the music, obviously drunk.

It wasn’t safe for a girl, wearing such a revealing and tight lavender dress to go out by herself. Especially not in this crowd.

Still, you needed to get lost in a crowd of people and let loose. You were sick of your parents breathing down your neck about moving out now that you finished college and secured another job. There was no way you were telling them how you were fired again. You needed to get out of the house.

The upbeat tune of Raising Hell by Ke$ha was exchanged for the smooth beat of BMO by Ari Lennox. You were too drunk for this song. You started to slowly grind your hips into the air, trying to mimic the moves of an exotic dancer.

A pair of soft hands grabbed you by the waist and danced against you, obviously having trouble trying to keep your nonexistent rhythm.

It was hot.

His hands were all over you. You glanced back and saw juicy lips that you suddenly wanted to kiss, but you were already short of breath. As if the final ounces of alcohol had finally ran through your bloodstream, the room swayed and it got dark.

“Shit,” you heard someone say. You couldn’t tell if it came from you or him.

You felt yourself being dragged away, too weak and too inebriated to care.

Before you could even reach an exit, you passed out.

You woke up and could tell you were in a moving vehicle. You saw the same stranger driving, but that “new car” scent put you back to sleep.

You woke up to the sound of keys jingling about, you noticed that this was not your house and that the man carrying you was that same stranger from the club. “Hey! Where are you taking me!” You slurred, fighting the urge to pass out once more.

You shouldn’t have estimated the power of that wine you drank in one sitting.

He flashes you a perfect smile that oozed excitement. “I’m taking you home, y/n.”

“This isn’t my…home.” You let the darkness engulf you as it was getting too hard to fight.

You were too drunk to question how he knew your name.

Minutes, hours, or days passed before you woke up in a crisp, white bedroom.

You spat some of your hair out of your mouth.

With a stretch, you take in your surroundings.

What happened last night? The last thing you truly remembered was chatting up the handsome bartender.

You scratched your head and that’s when you realise you were in nothing but a large tank top, obviously male.

Fuck!

Not again, you thought. You can’t believe you were in this situation again.

You spotted a bathroom through the open door and ran into it. There were no love marks on your skin. Your make up was removed pretty well and the clothes you wore last night were folded neatly on top of the counter, including your panties which you found a little embarrassing, imagining someone folding them.

You slowly brought your hand to your entrance, feeling for any kind of tenderness or fluids that would indicate anything out of the ordinary.

If something did happen, at least they weren’t rough.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t do anything to you. I didn’t want our first time to be like that.”

You removed your hand and spun to look at the owner of the voice.

Who the hell was this? You eyed him wearily.

Ignoring your glare, he spoke again, “I washed your clothes for you! They might be uncomfortable, so you can wear my shirt instead if you like.”

“Um, do you mind telling me who you are?” I couldn’t sense any danger from the angelically handsome silver haired man who spoke to you so innocently.

“Oh, I’m Jimin. Park Jimin. I’m 25 and I work as a police officer.”

“I meant, why am I here?”

“You fell out in the middle of the dance floor last night.”

“Why?”

He laughed again, turning his eyes into little upwards crescents. “I think that’s enough questions before we eat. I cooked breakfast. Its downstairs. Come down once you’re done in here.”

With that, he left.

Oh, he’s a police. That explained why he would bring me home. He felt the need to serve and protect. You were lucky this time, but this will have to be the last time you go out drinking alone. You quickly chucked off his tank top and got dressed in the same clothes as last night. You were indifferent to the walk of shame by now. Walking outside in club attire in broad daylight was bound to catch a few stares, but you didn’t care what people think.

You searched for your shoes and realized he probably had them downstairs.

By the time you gotten down and found the kitchen, he was just about to sit down.

“Look, I really want to thank you for saving me. Something really bad could have happened last night. I tend to have this self-destructive streak about me that I can’t quite shake off, but I promised myself this would be the last time I pass out from drinking.”

He smiled at your words. “That’s great. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you are never that careless again. Please, have breakfast.”

“Oh no, you’re too kind. I’ve already bothered you enough.”

“Come on, now, Y/n. I’ve already cooked it. I don’t want to waste it.”

You shrug and sat. “Fine, if you insist.” You start to dig in immediately. It was amazing and settled your stomach. You could already feel the hangover nausea kicking in.

You horsebacked the rest of the hot tea and stood abruptly. “Thank you so much! That was really delicious. I hope one day I can repay your kindness.”

All of the joy in his eyes dissipated as you moved to leave, but you didn’t notice.

“Can you tell me where my shoes are?”

“How about you stay for a while longer?”

“I couldn’t possibly.”

“Are your parents waiting back for you?”

“No, I tend to not even come home most weekends and- wait,” you stopped, eyeing him suspiciously thinking it was weird that he assumed you lived with your parents although you were obviously an adult. “I’m a grown woman, you know. I may act like a teen, getting drunk like that, but I’m 21. I can do what I want.”

“And you were fired recently, meaning you don’t have anything better to do, right? Please, stay with me.”

Revelation.

Before you thought to wit your way out of danger, you stammer.

“How did you know I was fired from my job?” You started to slowly back away.

If you were not in the current predicament, you might have noticed how beautiful and genuine his smile was. “Oops, looks like I blew my cover! I guess I can drop the façade. I love you, y/n. I had for a while now, but I couldn’t talk to you because I know someone boring like me wouldn’t stand a chance.” His eyes furrowed in mock sorrow, but those plump, tempting lips pulled into smile. “If you’re good, I’ll let you stay in the house…I really do not intend to hurt you.”

He reached and arm out for you slowly, but you evaded his touch as if he was fire. “Let me out of here! You stalker!” You dashed to what you assumed to be the front door with the crooked cop trailing behind you slowly.

“I don’t want to hurt you, y/n!”

You looked back for a moment as you grab frenetically for the door handle. He waltzed toward you with his hands in his pockets. He had on his uniform, the only thing missing was the hat and shirt.

Clammy hands finally got the door open and you charged through it without taking your eyes off the monster behind you. Even when you fell down the stairs, you did not turn your neck to see that the door you took so long to open was your personal gateway to hell.

Instead of seeing the bright lights of morning, you are greeted with darkness. When your eyes adjusted, you realised that it’s a basement.

“FUCK!!!” You screamed in agony clutching your broken leg.

Park Jimin tutted and cooed toward you. “See what you did to yourself? I told you that I don’t want to hurt you. Let me see…” He reached out for your leg but you pull away from him quickly, the action eliciting a groan from you. “Hey, I’m trying to help.”

“Then take me to a fucking hospital!”

“You probably don’t even need one. The fall wasn’t that high. It was about seven steps. I took a course in first aid.” His voice was something lethal. How was he so calm with you shouting at him? You gave him your leg.

Gently, in his crouched position, he rotated your leg, massaging it to assess where it had broken. “Shh, shhh, shhh, its okay,” he cooed at you mindlessly. With a deep gulp and wide eyes, he warned, “Suck in your breath…” You did as he said, in too much pain to argue. “It’ll take a sec…” He snapped your leg again with a grueling sound similar to a branch breaking from a tree during a hurricane.

You screamed.

And screamed,

And screamed,

And blacked out from pain.