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starsurface · 1 month

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Hello!! Can I request HCs or a fic of CG!Rain & CG!Havik with Little!Reiko? (specifically toddler/babyspace...... just a small little one 🥺)

Sorry I'm requesting again hshsh, please take your time with all the requests & remember to take care of yourself! 😊

-🦈

Hi!!! Oh Darling, don't you worry about 'requesting too much' or 'requesting again', alright? I love taking requests, and I love receiving new ones. I'll make sure to take care of myself. <3

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Rain & Havik w/ Babyspace Regressor Reiko Hcs

💧 I love this friendship trio <3

🫀 When they’re all big it’s “This would be fun”, “Lemme ask my Dad”, and “You idiots will be the death of me”

🗡️ But when Reiko’s tiny? “This would be super fun!!” “I wanna do it too!!” “. . . Do NOT touch that scorpion- Havik what are you thinking?!”

💧 Rain’s a killjoy because he has to be Mama Bear most times 🙄 (and make sure Havik doesn’t accidentally get Reiko hurt)

🫀 ^ Havik doesn’t necessarily get Reiko hurt on purpose, most times it is a complete accident

🗡️ Like who could run faster for ice cream? He didn’t know Reiko could fall and scrape his knee!! D: (The scorpion touching was a joke, Havik understands that Reiko could seriosuly get hurt by that)

💧 Also, if you ask Reiko, he totally didn’t cry at his knee scrapes, he was a big boy about it

🫀 . . . Ask the other two, and they’d call him a lier, but whatever 😮‍💨

🗡️ Reiko is a very energetic toddler most times, wanting to run around or play

💧 Most times, Havik will watch him while Rain ‘supervises’

🫀 He’ll let Havik and Reiko quietly giggle and talk about who they’re going to prank, or how they’re going to sneak some cookies

🗡️ By quietly, I mean Reiko’s talking kinda loudly, but Rain ‘ignores’ it because he’s giggling about it and Rain likes hearing Reiko be all happy

💧 That doesn’t mean he won’t bust them though, Reiko’s been told three times no more cookies till after dinner, and he’s not going to get his way

🫀 . . . Or until Havik does sneak some behind Rain’s back and gives one to a pouty Reiko (don’t tell Rain, he doesn’t neeeeeeed to know 👀)

🗡️ Baby Reiko is a little less energetic, but just as chaotic

💧 Rain will usually hold him, cuddling on the couch as Reiko tries to squirm so he can crawl away and go knock something over

🫀 ^ Not that Rain will let him, because he’s a big meanie >:(

🗡️ Havik will give tiny Reiko piggyback rides, and Rieko adores it

💧 Sometimes they’ll chase Rain around the castle too!! >:3 (Rain’s cool with it, it’s a game of tag basically, and Reiko wanted to be involved)

🫀 On more quieter little days, both CGs are very content with just laying and cuddling in bed, which their baby is also very happy about

🗡️ Sometimes Rain will do a magic show!! Which captures both Reiko’s and Havik’s awes

💧 Rain does have to put his foot down more than Havik does

🫀 Havik doesn’t believe in rules or punishments, why can’t they just have fun?

🗡️ Reiko likes the order Rain brings, but also the carefree Havik tries to establish (also Havik’s gotten him out of trouble a lot, and Rain’s gotten him a rule list that he does like to follow)

💧 Havik doesn’t do titles 🙄

🫀 But his main CG nickname is Dada or Bubba

🗡️ And Rain’s nickname is Fishy or Mama

💧 Rain was a bit surprised at the nickname at first, but quickly fell in love with it (Reiko only calls him it when he’s really tiny or sleepy)

🫀 Reiko gets many nicknames!! Little Heart, Rascal, Squishy, Precious, Little One, Sweetheart

🗡️ Reiko might really like to try and act independent (running away to go ‘play by himself’, insisting he can tie his own shoes or do his own coat, play with big kid toys like toy swords) but he’s also incredibly clingy, especially toddler Reiko

💧 He’ll quickly run back to Havik, claiming that he just doesn’t wanna play alone anymore and now wants cuddles, which Havik is happy to give

🫀 Or he’ll cuddle up to Rain’s side, letting Rain rant about some magic book he was studying

🗡️ ^ Havik will cuddle up too, Rain swears he has two babies on his hands 🙄

💧 Reiko’s a talker, but not a talker

🫀 He’ll rant Rain’s ears off while he tells him about what games Havik and him played, but his sentences aren’t complete, and it’s a bunch of words all jumbled together (this is mostly toddler Reiko)

🗡️ I mentioned in my Little Reiko w/ CG Rain Hcs that Reiko will scream for things he wants because he finds it funny

💧 Havik’s in full support!! Reiko’s in babyspace when he does it, Rain, he means no harm!! :D

🫀 Rain, however, likes his ear drums, but all Reiko does is giggle when he crosses his arms . . . Cutie

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Sorry about the late posts!! Realized I haven't updated my AO3 in like, a month and wanted to post there. <3

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phantom-curve · 3 years

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someday this will have a real title pt. 3

wow this one got away from me a lil bit. did I use it as an excuse to listen to Wake Up on repeat for an hour? yes. did I cry while writing it? yes. do with that information what you will.

I really like how this is turning out. honestly, thinking of writing a companion piece from Luke’s POV once I finish Julie’s. also, I realized while writing this that Luke basically ‘poofs’ into Julie’s space every time he interacts with her even though he’s not a ghost and I love that consistency.

still have no idea how long this will be, so thanks for just going on this adventure with me!

tag list: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles (thank you! honestly, they’ve got such strong voices writing these characters is a delight. also, titles are hard), @bluefyoto94 (thank you!), @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder lemme know if you want to be added!

The second the entrance of Los Feliz High School was in her sight, Julie was unbuckling her seatbelt, bolting out of the car in a mad dash to escape into the academic institution. Luke didn’t even have time to fully park the car before she had slipped out of it, her curly head disappearing into the mass of students surging through the front doors as the first bell began to ring. Social etiquette dictated that she wait around long enough to at least thank Luke for the ride, but honestly, social etiquette could suck a fat one. She had been dealing with fake social graces for the last year and frankly, she was sick of all of the bullshit. She didn’t feel particularly inclined to extend said graces to overconfident band boys intent on disrupting her carefully constructed routine.

For the last year Luke had been content to ignore her presence in the few classes they shared, perfectly happy basking in the glory of being an upperclassman with unprecedented musical talent. Luke knew exactly where he was going and how he was going to get there. He didn’t stop to wait for the school to hook him up with gigs, he went out and made the shows happen for his band himself. Julie had always admired his confidence, wished she could be more like him.

She hadn’t always loved the cockier side to his attitude though. He had a tendency to act like god’s gift to music and it drove her insane considering there were kids at this school that worked just as hard as him but wouldn’t ever make it quite as far. Not everyone could be born with that kind of talent, but that didn’t mean he had to rub other people’s faces in it! She should know, hadn’t she always been complimented on her musical ability before anything else? And now that she didn’t have that same gift to offer up to the masses, wasn’t she just another forgotten face in the crowd?

Head low, shoulders hunched against the onslaught of emotion, Julie pushed her way through the morning crowd of students. She didn’t look up until she knew her locker would be in front of her, and even then she only lifted her head long enough to bury it inside of the metal box, pretending she was searching for the schoolbooks already in her backpack.

“Hey, under achiever.”

The familiar voice was warm, the nickname affectionate instead of insulting. It pulled a reluctant smile from Julie as she turned to meet her best friend’s gentle gaze.

“Hey, disappointment.”

Flynn gave her a little hip bump and a sad smile. Oh. So, word had already spread around the school.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Julie hefted her backpack higher on her shoulder, one hand reaching to pull her hat low. Too late she recognized how her own actions almost mirrored Luke’s earlier. Flynn, best friend that she was, linked her arm through Julie’s and began to lead them down the hallway towards homeroom.

“Okay.”

Julie breathed a sigh of relief. Her best friend could be like a dog with a bone sometimes, unable to let any perceived injustice go without a fight. She was thankful she had avoided whatever rant Flynn had at the ready for the time being.

“But we’re gonna have to talk about it eventually, Jules. You can’t just let them kick you out! You’re Julie Molina! Voice of an angel! Queen of-!”

Or maybe not. Flynn’s declarations cut off immediately at the cold look Julie sent her way.

“Right, don’t wanna talk about it.”

Julie nodded fiercely, unmoved by Flynn’s disappointed sigh as she pulled out of her grasp and slipped into her desk. Flynn hadn’t lost her mom and her ability to play music all at once. Flynn didn’t have the entire school breathing down her neck. Flynn’s life wasn’t falling apart in front of her eyes. Flynn didn’t get to judge. Head down, Julie fought back the feelings of shame and guilt, focusing on her anger instead.

She made it through most of the day like that, relying solely on the fuel her fury provided to get her through her classes. Until her last two classes of the day. Composition and Solo Vocal Studies. Except, she wasn’t in those classes anymore. She had been dropped from them like the useless failure that she was. Her dad still didn’t know, so there hadn’t been a meeting with the school to change her schedule. But she couldn’t just go to a class she had been asked to leave. The final bell rang, and Julie was left by herself in the empty hallways. She glanced at the closed classroom doors around her, feeling small and lost. Suddenly, the red-hot rage that had sustained her all day was doused by an overwhelming wave of sadness. She was alone.

Unable to stomach the thought of losing it in the middle of the school, Julie sprinted for the nearest exit. Her surroundings were a blur until she practically slammed into the metal doors, crashing her way outside. She took a few steps before doubling over on her knees, gasping for breath. She squeezed her eyes shut, focused on nothing more than the air going in and out of her lungs. It was breezy, the warm wind blowing her hair around, the wayward curls tickling her face. The sensation helped to ground her, and she finally opened her eyes, the panic receding as she stood. The door creaked open behind her. Julie stiffened at the noise. The hair on the back of her neck felt electrified, and she didn’t have to hear him speak to know who it was. A throat cleared.

“You, um...you dropped this.”

She heard fabric rustling, the soft swoosh of what must be his arm lifting. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, the frustration she’d been thriving on all day creeping in at the edges. She clung to it like a lifeline as she turned to meet his puppy dog eyes.

“What, are you stalking me or something?!”

Her voice was hoarse, not as strong or snappy as she had intended. She balled her hands into tight fists at her sides, ready to verbally attack as she leaned forward waiting for him to respond. He didn’t say anything, eyes soft as he looked down to where his hand was outstretched holding...her hat. Her hands flew to her head, landing on hair instead of the trusty ballcap she had kept perched there for the last year. So that’s how her curls had gotten loose earlier. Heat rose again, burning its way up from her chest to her cheeks to the tips of her ears. She snatched it out of his hands, shoving it back on her head with more force than necessary.

“Thanks.”

“Sure thing. You, uh, bolted outta there pretty quick. Everything okay?”

She watched him bob slightly, like he couldn’t stop moving for even a second. His voice was melodic, somehow everything he said sounding like he was on the verge of bursting into song. In another life, she probably would have been charmed by him. Not in this life though.

“Fine. Looks like I’m done with school for the day I guess.”

She practically sneered at him. Something about his gentle prodding scratched at her. Everyone knew she was a disaster. Everyone knew she was out of the music program, a washed up has been before she had been able to even make it in the first place. He didn’t need to use the kid gloves with her.

“Oh yeah, I forgot you usually have...”

He trailed off, eyes downcast, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. She glared, not even noticing that he somehow knew her schedule.

“Yeah. Usually. Not anymore. So.”

He rocked back on his heels, hands shoved in his jean pockets, arms flexing in an unfairly aggressive display of hotness. His eyes were still looking at her with that same gentle expression. Like he cared. Her fingertips itched and she realized with a start that she desperately wanted to grab her keyboard and pound out an angry ballad about this...this too nice fuckboy with a pretty face and she could see the notes forming now and she could practically feel the smooth chill of the keys under her fingers and...she staggered backwards.

What the hell was that?! Her heart raced, adrenaline spiking. Oh no. No no no. She couldn’t want to play for this dumb boy. She hadn’t been able to play for her dad or her brother. She hadn’t been able to play for Flynn, hadn’t been able to play for her mother. She couldn’t even play for herself! What kind of special magic did Luke freakingPatterson possess that made her want to play again? It wasn’t fair.

“I gotta go.”

She swerved around him, reaching for the school doors. They held fast, locked from the inside. Her shoulders slumped. Just her luck.

“Hey, Julie?”

She didn’t answer, but it didn’t stop him.

“I’m really sorry about your mom. She was an incredible songwriter. You are too.”

The last part was said quietly but Julie heard it anyway. She couldn’t help but scoff as she turned to face him again. He stood perfectly still this time.

“How would you know that?”

His eyes, still so soft, crinkled a bit at the edges. Not a full smile, but she could tell he wanted to. Without breaking their stare down, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a worn, folded square of paper. Her gaze dipped, eyes widening. Her breath caught in her throat. It couldn’t be. He held it out to her.

“I found it last year. In the practice room. I know I should have given it to you earlier, but there was never a right time. I’m sorry.”

Julie’s vision swam. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she reached out to take the paper he offered.

“I thought...I tried to...”

“I know.”

His voice was the sweetest croon as his fingers closed around hers, tucking the sheet music safely into her palm.

“I went back the next day, but...it was gone.”

“I’m so sorry. God, I should have had Alex give it to Flynn or something.”

“No.” She locked her eyes on his once more. “It wasn’t the right time.”

He gave her a small smile, bouncing just a bit on the balls of his feet again. And then, as if understanding that she needed this moment to herself, he gave her a small nod and disappeared around the side of the building. Julie closed her eyes for a moment, clutching the papers to her chest.

Last year, in a fit of heartbroken rage and unable to express herself through music like she had for her entire life, Julie had locked herself in the practice room after school and thrown an all-out tantrum. She had screamed herself sick, cried until she couldn’t breathe, and in a final fit of uncontrollable emotion, trashed the last song that she had written with her mother, finished just days before she took her last breath. It had been satisfying in the moment. A vow to give up the part of herself that was made up of her mother, cut the pain off at the source so to speak. She had regretted it the instant she woke up the next morning, but it was too late. By the time she got to school, the first student on campus even, the practice room had already been cleaned. The hollowed out, empty feeling of loss that had followed had been gut wrenching. The realization that she had thrown the last connection to her mother in the trash left a gaping hole in her heart. It had been a fitting punishment that Julie had never even gotten to play the final product. A fitting punishment that she would never play anything again.

Luke had just changed all of that. He had given her that piece of her heart back. Fingers trembling, she unfolded the pages. She traced the looping letters of her mother’s familiar handwriting, following the notes up and down the bars, the melody playing in her head as she read. At the very end, a final message she had missed before:

Julie, you can do it.

Love, Mom

It felt like coming home. Pages clutched to her heart once more, Julie leaned against the building, lifted her face to the sky, and wept.

#you guys this was supposed to be a fun lil writing exercise and now it's a full on fanfic #that's honestly v on brand for me #also this was supposed to be fluffy! blame julie for the angst!!#julie and the phantoms #jatp #juke #jukebox #julie x luke #luke x julie #julie molina #luke patterson #palina #Mads speaks #Mads writes #jatp ficlet #jatp fanfic #jule ficlet #juke fanfic #find the strength find the melody

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aahsokaatano · 3 years

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King I would love that essay about Changing Channels

Fjdjshjdhdjd thanks for reading my tags Jesse you're the real VIP here.

Okay SO "Changing Channels" is the 8th episode of the 5th season of Supernatural. I give this information bc it's important in looking at the context of the episode - now I've complained a LOT about how SPN is terrible at giving us canonical timeframes within the episodes (y'all i was SHOCKED to discover the first season is supposed to cover a little over a year's worth of time, I thought it was like... 4 or 5 months) so I can't say for sure how long before and after the other episodes happen in-universe around "Changing Channels" BUT

The episode before is "The Curious Case of Dean Winchester" where Dean and Bobby bet years of their lives in a game of poker with a witch. The episode after is "The Real Ghostbusters" where Sam and Dean end up at a fan convention for the in-universe Supernatural novels.

Why am I pointing this out? Because it's important, please, no audience participation, this is like a Brian David Gilbert panel.

[under a cut bc this got...... STUPID long. Who knew I still had this many opinions about SPN in 2020?]

Okay first of all I wanna talk about the cinnamon topography of this episode - I love the way the first 5 seasons are shot because you really feel the americana gothic horror aesthetic they were going for (I have a whole ‘nother rant about the first 5 seasons vs the last 10 but thats for another time). Everything is a little washed out and grey-toned, the camera angles generally serve to make Sam and Dean appear even taller than they actually are (larger than life - again, another post for another time), and there’s honestly a LOT of shots from the ‘monster’s’ perspective, which is really neat! I’ve said it before (on another blog - YES i have a dedicated spn rant blog, don’t @ me hdjfhfjfh) but the episode that really got me hooked on spn back in the day was the second one, about the w*ndigo. Yes, it’s a racist, culturally appropriating shitstorm, but the way its SHOT is fantastic. I’m honestly not a horror fan, but that episode could have easily relied on jumpscares and they DIDN’T and it was scary as all fucking hell and just - fuck okay getting off topic.

In “Changing Channels” we get that distinctive grey-washed tone in the beginning and the very end of the episode, but the middle? When they’re in TV Land? Everything is bright. Almost comically so, I mean - okay look at these two shots of Sam (apologies about the crappy phone pics, netflix won't let me screenshot)

This one is from the start of the episode, in the "real" police station

And this is from a little later in the "TV" hospital

Ignoring that my phone is washing him out a lot in both pics, you can still see the warmer tones in the hospital shot as compared to the cold greyness in the police station one

Okay, now look at this picture

Dean inside the Impala, and those warm tones are back. Why? Because even though Sam and Dean believe that they’re back in the “real” world, they aren’t - so instead of the grey-washed shots that we’re used to, its the bright and warm shots that we see in “TV Land”! So the viewers pick up, even if its just subconsciously, that the boys aren’t out of the woods yet - everything is still too bright to be the in-universe reality we’ve come to expect from SPN by season 5

Which is also why i love this shift so much

These shots are literally SECONDS apart. The first is in "TV Land" and the second is in the "real" world. I have some red strip lights behind my bed, which are reflecting off my laptop screen - notice how much brighter they seem in the second picture? That’s because literally all of the warm colors have been drained out of the shot. As soon as Gabriel snaps them all back into “reality,” things get so much colder.

Okay, so the second thing I want to talk about is some of the very pointed dialogue choices within the “shows” the Winchesters take part in. Not between Sam and Dan and Gabriel, but from the, for lack of a better term, NPCs within the shows.

In the hospital, Dr. Piccolo tells Sam that he is “the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met - and I have met plenty! So that girl died on your table; it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Sometimes people just die.” Standard cheesy soap opera dialogue - but lemme just swap some words here and -

“You are the finest hunter I have ever met - and I have met plenty! So that girl died on your hunt; it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Sometimes people just die.”

Or even -

“You are the finest hunter I have ever met - and I have met plenty! So Jessica and Mary died above you; it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault [but Azazel’s]. Sometimes people just die.”

Keeping in mind that the NPCs are basically Gabriel’s mouthpieces, its easy to see why so many people ship Sabriel. I’d actually love to see a fic that explores them talking about this moment in particular later on and the kind of gentle forgiveness that Gabriel can give Sam... getting off topic again.

In an abrupt about-face, the herpes commercial (much meme’d within the fandom) is straight up Gabriel shaming Sam. Because if you replace “genital herpes” with “demon blood” it’s.... dark. And very intentional.

So that’s what I did! (I combined all spoken lines to make the message easier to read, rather than splitting them up across 3 speakers as in the episode)

“I’ve drank demon blood. I tried to be responsible... did I try. But now, after being forcibly detoxed, I fight my addiction every day to reduce the chances of passing back into that toxic mindset. Ask your loved ones about a demon blood intervention today. [...] I am doing all I can to slightly lessen the chance of drinking demon blood again. And that’s a good thing.”

Like... the subtext throughout this episode sure is. Something.

Okay this is getting ridiculously long so I wanna wrap up by talking about The Best Scene In The Whole Goddamn Show

I’m talking, of course, about Gabriel’s Confession

“Max,” you might be saying, “there are so many better scenes out there, even within the first five seasons!” and to that i say, again, no audience participation, please. Also, you’re WRONG and here’s why!

Gabriel’s confession hits every goddamn emotional chord that the fandom begged for on this show - fear, rage, grief, pain, guilt, and even, yes, absolution.

Okay, here’s the scene again for those of you who don’t think about it at least once a week like me

youtube

Now this video is missing some of the conversation, but most of it is there, enough for you to see what I’m talking about. Gabriel up to this point has been, essentially, a nameless antagonist - this is the third episode he appeared in, and before this, we didn’t even know he was going by Loki. He was just referred to as ‘The Trickster’. But here, not only do we get a name (a real name at that), but we also get a glimpse of his backstory and a hell of a lot of character development in less than 5 minutes. I mean, Sam didn’t get this much character development throughout the entirety of season 1! There’s a good reason Gabriel has been a fan-favorite for a very long time, and I think a big part of it is this particular scene.

Because here, we get to see Gabriel being vulnerable. And we even see Dean show a little vulnerability, as he can empathize being the third party to explosive arguments between the two people who mean everything to him.

I mean... okay, it will never see the light of day, but I wrote a little bit of a Reverse ‘Verse fic (because I’m a sucker for Reverse ‘Verse) and this was the scene I started with. Not s1e1, not even the resurrection in s4e1, but this scene. Because this scene, more than any other, is critical to the way not only Gabriel’s (first) arc plays out, but also to how Sam and Dean conduct themselves for the rest of the season (and maybe a bit beyond, it’s been a hot minute since I watched s6 and later). Dean is angry but determined, he has a point to make, he is going to save Sammy and if he can’t do that, then he’s going to damn well die trying. But Sam... it’s after this episode that we start really seeing how bone-achingly tired Sam is. It’s after this conversation - where one of the other archangels, one of the few beings who can truly understand how powerful Michael and Lucifer are - says that there’s no other way around this that Sam seems to start inching towards giving in. Saying yes.

Sure, in the actual episode, he seems outraged by the idea, practically scoffs at it - “you want us to say yes to those sons of bitches?” - but it’s after this where Sam really seems run down.

I mean, look at the episodes before and after (HAH you thought I forgot about that first point I made at the very beginning of this post! I did, briefly, but I’ve circled back to it, thanks for being understanding). In “The Curious Case of Dean Winchester,” Sam behaves much as he did since the start of s4, which is to say, ‘annoying little know-it-all brother tossed into the middle of the apocalypse and just trying his best’ and it works well for the mad scramble for any scrap of information that’s happening in s4/early s5.

But in “The Real Ghostbusters” it’s different. This is another funny meta episode - except, while Sam and Dean are technically aware of the joke, they aren’t as amused by it as the audience is. And it’s not because of the ghosts. It’s because they’re just... done. Especially Sam. Dean has that nice little moment with the cosplayers at the end of the episode, but Sam... threatens to shoot Chuck. Sam ‘goes darkside’ more often than pretty much any other character in the show, but that moment is different. It’s a flat promise, not a threat. He’s not being an asshole, like he is after losing his soul. He’s just... done. And it’s obvious to see.

Gabriel’s confession is the turning point for Sam in s5, and it informs a lot of his behavior through the rest of s5, and possibly beyond! Like I said, I haven’t watched past s5 in a very long time, so I don’t feel confident enough to analyze that specific sort of character line, but I feel confident in saying that hearing one of the most powerful beings in the universe basically say “it doesn’t matter what you do - your destiny is unavoidable” and then he’s proven right (Sam says yes to Lucifer, and Dean eventually does say yes to Michael down the line!)... like, that’s really gotta fuck up your world view that was built on free will and throwing off the shackles of fate. Sam managed to avoid his ‘destiny’ in s2... but then it turns out that that wasn’t ever his destiny. Lucifer was his destiny.

Talk about an obscured view of the inner self.

#thebisexualmandalorian #jesse #max answers #spn #naturally super #changing channels #im having some THOUGHTS yall

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buckeroonie323 · 4 years

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This is for @findingbuck 's request of what Our boy Bucky would be like in quarantine. I present to you the well thought out titled two part fic.

Bucky in Quarantine!

Word count: 1.7k

Warning: SMUT kind of. Bossy Bucky.

Paring:Quarantine!Bucky x Working!reader

So turns out this fic wanted to be a two parter. Sorry to make you wait for the fun stuff but I gave you a little. #sorrynotsorry

"BABY! HELP MEEEE!" Bucky calls to you from the living room. "I'M DYING HELLPPPPP!!! I'M BEING ATTACKED!" He continues to wail. You jog to the living room. "What's wrong Buck? Who is attacking you?" You see that Alpine is sitting in a cat loaf on Bucky's chest. The cat is unfazed by the screaming because it happens all the time.

Bucky beams at you as you walk into the room. His hair is in a cute bun on the top of his head. He has little baby hairs floating in a halo.

"Hi sweetheart! I missed you so so much." You roll your eyes at him and sit down putting his legs over your thighs. You grab Alpine holding him to your chest.

"James, what did we talk about yelling in the house? Especially when I am only a room away." You fake scold. Now it's his turn to roll his eyes.

"I was in danger, baby. I could have died. I'm lucky you came to save me." He sits up to put a kiss on your cheek. He takes his legs off of your thighs. "You're my hero."

You giggle at his comment. "Yes, you are lucky that your untrained civilian girlfriend came to your rescue. An extremely well trained assassin and soldier for over 70 years. You totally couldn't have handled the situation yourself."

Bucky takes Alpine from you setting him on the floor. The cat prances away. Bucky pulls you into his lap so you're straddling him. He pulls you right into a hug.

His right hand doing warm passes over your back. You melt into him. Bucky puts a lingering kiss on your neck. "I love you. Just so you know. Do you want to go cuddle?" You feel more than hear him say.

"Is that not what we're doing?" You murmur into his neck. "I want you to come lay on top of me so I can hold you and never let go." By this point his hand had stopped running on your back. He has brought it up to stroke your hair.

"I don't know honey. I have a conference call in 15 minutes." You lean back reluctantly to look him in the eyes.

"I was getting ready before your call of distress bubba." You motion to your half disheveled appearance.

You're in silk pj bottoms and a button up work shirt. Your eye makeup is done but nothing else is.

"I'm sorry sugar. But why do you have to wear the makeup? I'm not saying you shouldn't. I love when you express yourself. BUT it's quarantine. They can suck my ass if they think you need to be super professional." He starts ranting.

"On another note, what makes them think makeup is the female equivalent to professionalism? They need to step the fuck off." You silence him by giving him a kiss.

"I agree. Just so you know I'm the only one allowed near your ass. But I do my makeup because it makes me feel a little more normal Buck. I'm bored out of my mind in the house." You say as you reluctantly pull away.

"Doll, I have plenty of ways I can keep you busy." He wiggles his eyebrows at you with a smirk. "Okay, smooth criminal. I need to get ready. Let me up."

"No. You're mine." He says tightening his grip and nuzzling into your chest. "If you let me go get ready and set up my laptop out here I'll play with your hair during my meeting."

Bucky immediately perks up. "Okay baby. I'll do that for you. Go get ready Princess." As you get off of his lap, you roll your eyes at the nickname. He gives your ass a cute lil slap.

As you walk away you jokingly say "I am a queen and you know that bubba." He scoffs. "You are my queen. Love you." You hear as you turn the corner. "I love you more baby." You call over your shoulder.

WARNING: SMUT AHEAD

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You come back into the living room and all of your equipment is set up for your conference call. Bucky took his hair out of his bun and it's flowing down to his shoulders. You admire him from the door for a moment.

"Everything all set honey?" You ask him with a smile because he's wandering around the living room aimlessly.

He nods and motions you to sit. There's a glass of water, some orange juice and a small cheese, cracker, and fruit plate beside your laptop.

"Awe thank you honey. Remind me to suck your dick later." You smirk at him sitting down and grabbing a sliced strawberry.

Bucky gapes at you for a second. He reals himself in. He lays out on the couch resting his head on your thigh. "Text me if you need anything Bubba. Are you comfortable?"

He nuzzles into your thigh a little bit, throwing a blanket over himself. "Yes baby I'm comfy." You start running your hands through his hair. Bucky's eyes start to close. You smile fondly down at him.

"I'm ready when you are sugar." You feel so much love towards this man. He has full control over your heart and he doesn't even know it. Before you can dwell on that thought for too long your conference call has started. You put on your noise cancelling headphones that Bucky got for you for your birthday.

Before long your hands have grown still in his hair. Your plate of delicious food is gone, your water has been drained, and your orange juice is half full.

His snores are soft and can't really be heard by the call. It's been almost 3 hours. What more can Ronald from the pseudoscience branch of your company have to say about how microdosing shrooms could be beneficial? All he is doing is repeating the same words over and over and over.

It's ridiculously redundant and you're tired. You feel Bucky starting to stir. Hopefully he can keep you company better than Ronald Karen Cheryl and Tom.

You start to feel one warm hand kneading your thigh. You look down at Bucky to give him a strange questioning look. He puts his finger up to his lips and tells you to shush.

He's pushing himself up to his elbows still out of sight but definitely there. For the most part you ignore it. He's probably just stretching anyway.

"So back to what we need to accomplish during this next quarter. Put together what we can to find out how we as a team can be successful."

You feel his hand inch further up. You look down at his smirking face and it almost seems like he's asking for permission so you give him a small nod as you look back to your screen. It looks as though that's all he needed.

He massages your thigh a little more. He starts to untie the silk bow on your pajama shorts that you hadn't changed out of if you weren't on call he might just might have just ripped them open.

Once he's opened the tie in the shorts he dips his hand in and slightly over your underwear just rubbing softly on your clothed core. You let out a soft breath of air. Could have been mistaken for breathing. But he knows exactly what it was.

"Okay, how about we take a five-minute break, pause the call whatever we have to do. Go get some water, get some snacks, use the bathroom because I have a feeling we're going to be here for a while. I'll see you all in about 5 minutes?" After your confirmation from your coworkers you leave the call.

"Bucky what the hell do you think you're doing?" You asked in a hushed tone.

"Baby I'm doing whatever the hell I want. Now, I'm going to go get you some more water and some more snacks. I want your shorts off by the time I get back. You better keep those panties on. I want you to turn so your legs are on the couch leaving room for me to lay there." He pauses in thought.

"If I come back and I don't see what I want to see. I will make you come over and over and over again. I won't stop until you're begging me to stop. Even then little girl, I will not stop until I'm satisfied with you. Am I understood?" You blink and surprise a couple times. Kind of collect your thoughts. Although you love when he talks to you like that.

You're a little confused as to when this side of Bucky came to the surface. He was so sweet earlier. Either way you know you're in for a treat. So, you reply in the way you know how. Luckily you're not feeling bratty today. Even if it would be very very entertaining.

You don't think your co-workers would much appreciate you begging your boyfriend to stop making you come. "Yes, sir." You say to him while batting your eyelashes.

"Good girl." he kisses your thigh and heads to the kitchen. Quickly you get up and rid yourself of the shorts. You readjust yourself on the couch so that you still look presentable.

You also make sure Bucky has room to lay on the couch and between your thighs. He comes back with another plate of food and some more water.

"Oh, look at you honey. You're such a good girl. I'm glad that you did what I asked you to do." He picks an ice cube out of your water and puts it in his mouth.

He lays in between your thighs. He puts both of his hands on either side of your core. Thumbs rubbing up and down your labia through your damp pink cotton panties.

"What am I going to do with you baby? Guess we'll find out. I don't think I need to tell you that you're going to have to be quiet baby doll. You're going to talk to your coworkers. Tell them what to do in that sexy bossy voice I like, while I destroy you and take you apart."

He's putting kisses all around your pelvis, your hip and your stomach purposely skirting around the place you want him the most.

"If you're close, tap on my hand. You'll be a good girl and rejoin the call." If you weren't wet before you certainly are now. You put on your headphones and rejoin the call

Tag list I guess? @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @that-damn-girl @kitkatd7 @moteldwelling @m-c-who

Reblog lemme know how you feel.

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winsister91 · 6 years

Text

Breaking a Promise

Part Two - Don’t be Shy

Summary: Dean is gone. But the reader is determined to step up and find him, even if it means breaking her promise. She revisits her old hometown, haunted by memories of the past. Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, OFC Jenny, OFC Harper

Warnings: Language, canon-typical violence, character death, angst, themes of addiction, a small breeze of fluff in the background. Word Count: 3100 roughly (oops) A/N: Thank you so much to the peeps who left wonderful feedback on part one! I’m kinda scared and feel under pressure now lol Sorry this took such a long time coming, been a bit of a failure lately. I am DETERMINED to finish what I started here. I hope you enjoy the angsty ride. Thanks to @sofreddie for being a wonderful, supportive and amazing friend while I ranted about this one <3 THIS IS UNBETAD SO APOLOGIES IF IT SUCKS AND IS FULL OF TYPOS Feedback will keep the writing coming!

Series Masterlist Full Masterlist

STARTING MY TAGS OVER AGAIN FROM SCRATCH! Lemme know if you wanna join my posse!

~ Series and forever tags are open! ~

(Italics are flashbacks)

It wasn't a long drive to where you were headed, about forty minutes. To you however, it felt like the longest forty minutes of your life. You'd vowed to never return here, always sitting out of the cases Sam or Dean had picked up in this place. It was cowardly, but they always understood, Dean would give you a sympathetic smile and a wink when they headed out. Sam would give you a hug, and they would both promise to make it as short and sweet as possible. They always kept that promise, ensuring to head straight back to the bunker when they were done, even if it was during the early hours of the morning. Dean would always come back to you. Always.

You feel your eye twitch at that thought and a pang of pain sharply attack your guts. Shaking it off you turn your attention back to the road, driving the practically antique car that you'd loaned from the Men of Letters garage. You lean forward and press play on the cassette player.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“Whoa Black Betty!” Dean barked along with the music from the driver's seat of the Impala.

“Bam-a-lam!” you shouted at the top of your lungs, tapping along with the beat on the dash.

“She really gets me high!” he turned to you with that knee trembling trademark smirk and wink.

“Bam-a-lam!” you continue with a giggle.

“You know that's no lie!”

“Bam-a-lam!”

“She's so rock steady! She's always ready!”

You were a fit of giggles now, blushing at the adorable jerk before you. To your surprise, he quickly leant over, planting a deep kiss as his lips collided with yours.

“Dean!” you squealed when he released you and you noticed the car drifting into the wrong lane.

“I got it, I got it,” he chuckled, swinging the car back into the correct position.

“Keep your eyes on the damn road,” you playfully tapped his arm whilst shaking your head. The huge grin on your face somewhat diminishing the authority of your demand.

Dean continued his chuckling, turning the volume dial on the stereo up so the music blared even louder.

“Whoa! Black Betty!” “Bam-a-lam!”

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You were trying so hard to be optimistic. Thinking back to the good times to keep your spirits up. Imagining a happy reunion at the end of all this. You will find him, he will be fine and he will understand why you are doing... this.

You pass the dreaded, graffitied to hell 'Welcome to Town' sign and a familiar knot forms in your stomach. As much as you'd tried to avoid this place by sitting out on hunts and what not, every now and then you and the boys have to pass through here while heading somewhere else. You'd see this sign and quickly turn to another activity, like scrolling on your phone, reading your book or sometimes just straight up closing your eyes and focusing on Dean's Metallica album.

You take a sharp breath and roll your shoulders, you had gotten this far so you weren't backing out now. You feel your heart racing as more familiar sights come into view. Your old school. The park your parents took you to when you were a kid. The diner you worked weekends at before...everything.

With a deep sigh, you pull into the diner's car park. Your hands were trembling with nerves. You hoped this place still did those awesome milkshakes you would partake in when you were feeling down.

The door to the diner still has that annoying high pitched squeak, even after all these years. The furnishings hadn't changed either. Paying for your shake, you sit yourself down in a booth in the far corner and watch out the window, twirling your straw through your thick dairy treat.

Mum and Dad's old house wasn't far from here. You missed your parents so much, but they really were a distant memory compared to your life now. An intoxicated truck driver stole them from you on a cliché foggy night. He lost his own life too. You were the only person left alive after the accident. Alone. No other family. Left to couch surf friend's sofas when the house got repossessed. Working a dead end weekend job in the diner and taking all the extra shifts you possibly could. Eventually, this allowed you to just scrape enough to rent a dingy little apartment on the other side of town. You were in such a dark and lonely place in your mind back then, shutting out everyone around you despite their efforts to help. You were depressed. Broke. Angry. Didn't see the point in continuing.

Then there was Jenny. A hypnotising friendly face you couldn't shove away. She worked at the Diner too back then. She could do things. She would mesmerise you with little tricks she performed for your entertainment. Dumb little things like levitating ketchup bottles and the like. She told you she could do more, and you could do it too if you wanted to learn. Your new hobby was born. Every Sunday after work you and Jenny would lock up and head to her sister's house.

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“Tonight's going to be so great,” Jenny beamed, pouring a cup of coffee and handing it to a waiting customer at the counter. “The last ‘four’ Sundays have been great,” you smiled as you started to create a fresh pot, “What's so special about tonight?”

“My sister ‘loves’ you,” Jenny continued excitedly, before leaning towards your ear and changing to hushed tones, “We don't normally initiate people until they've been accepted as a part of the coven after a couple of months. But Harper thinks you've got something. Natural talent we've never seen before, so you've been bumped up the list!”

“Um...thanks?” you chuckle nervously, “I didn't know there was an initiation. Should I be worried?”

“It's a little intense I'll admit,” she suddenly came across serious, “But you're up for it right? We love you. We don't want to lose you.”

“Uuuh,” you are taken aback by that statement, “S-sure. I'm not going anywhere.”

“Awesome!”

Jenny skipped around the diner with glee for the last couple of hours of your shift. You wondered what was going to unfold later that night.

From what you'd seen the last few weekends, these meetings were just a bunch of women reading out of spell books and giggling at little tricks. It had blown your mind seeing real magic first hand. You found it ridiculously easy too. You’d managed to light a candle with nothing but a swish of your hand and thin air the first time you tried. A small twinge of anxiousness poked away in your guts.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Your fist slams the table automatically, causing a few odd looks from nearby patrons. You hated this town. You hated it for the happy memories which made you grieve your family. You hated it for the horrible memories of being on your own after their deaths. Most of all, you hated it for reminding you of how dumb and naïve you once were. Sure, you were ignorant of what was out there back then. You didn't know what magic really was or about the darkness that coincides with it. The vile people who wield it and use it to control and intimidate. People like Harper. You force yourself to remember why you were taking this damned trip through nostalgia Hell. It was to get what you needed and to gank that fucking bitch. Then to find Dean. You had to get through this to get him.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“Will you swear an oath to your fellow sisters Y/N?” Harper's voice flowed dreamily almost like she was singing. You raised an eyebrow, “Um...”

“Do you swear to abide by our magical laws, to serve, to live, to breath everything that is our coven. To join our family. To become a sister of the blood,” Harper extended her hands out to you.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Gritting your teeth, you endure your mind replaying these scenes. Remembering this was the moment your anxiety won and you tried to bumble your way out of it. You shudder at the thought of your own voice weakly mumbling back then “Um... I think to need to think a bit more about this, I'm sorry.” You clench your fists at the thought of Jenny's heartbroken face when you turned to walk away. Your heart stops at the recollection of Harper's power. With a swift flick of the wrist, she had you flying back through the air towards her like you were magnetized. You rub your neck at the memory of her nails digging into your skin when she held you there by the throat. Then she...she… You wipe the cold sweat from your forehead, noting your heart was thudding much faster. The chatter of people around became a dull buzz of white noise. Just thinking about the stuff, after all this time, it still made you go nuts.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“Harper!” Jenny squealed from the side in horror, “What are you doing!?” “She's too good,” the witch mumbled, brushing a stray hair from your face as you struggled helplessly while you choked, “I must see what happens.”

She brought up a vial full of red liquid. You started to panic, kicking wildly with your feet and trying to pull back with all your strength. It was useless, Harper's hold on you was too powerful.

Forcing your mouth open, she emptied the vial's contents down your throat.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Another slam on the table. More awkward looks shot your way as you rise to your feet and hastily charge out of the diner back to your car. You drive, foot to the floor on the gas pedal. You knew Harper was still at that damned house of hers. She was cocky like that and knew you'd be too terrified to come back anytime soon. Her study would still be intact... the cabinet full of it behind her desk… You honed in on the house automatically without thought and now sat outside with a heart trying to bust through your ribcage.

This was the first time you'd ever come back. The first time since that day.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“Hey, Y/N?” Jenny whispered, lifting your slumped body up to a sitting position on the floor. She would always come to check on you every night, “Can you hear me?” “Jenny...” you mumbled, struggling to open your bruised and battered eyes. Everything still sore and throbbing from your latest beating. Harper didn't approve when you showed signs of rebellion in your 'training sessions'.

“I'm so sorry...” Jenny had tears in her eyes, “If I'd have known about all this, I would never have brought you here.”

“Not your fault...”

“It is, I forced you into all of this. I swear to you, Harper has never been like this before!”

You could just make out your friend in the little light in your cell. Her usual bubbly brightness had been replaced with fear and nerves. Her beautiful blonde curls turned ragged and messy.

“I'm getting you out of here,” she continued with a nod, like she was confirming this to herself, “I'm getting 'us' out of here. She's gone too far...too damn far.”

You grip your friend’s hand as her body began to shake with fear.

“Jenny...we can't. It's too dangerous,” you squeeze her hand tightly, “And 'I'm' too dangerous.”

“I met two guys,” Jenny ignored you as she undid your iron shackles and pulled you up to your feet, “They came in the diner. Hunters, but good guys. They're gonna help us.”

“Hunters?”

“Shhh...” Jenny hushed as you slowly made your way through the house, “They're watching over the house right now. We just need to get out, then they'll come in and...do the rest.”

As you reached the sitting room back at the front of the house, a voice came from behind you.

“What the hell are you doing?”

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You find your pistol in your bag, checking it was loaded with Witch killing bullets. With a deep breath, you step out. Blood pumping as you marched to the front door. No messing around, you give one hard kick. Doesn't budge. Another slam, nothing. A loud roar escapes your lips as you kick again, smashing through.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You are both flung across the room with force, crashing into the walls with a hard smack. You groan as it feels like some bones shatter. The Witch that had found you both began shouting and raising the alarm. You couldn't have that. Her shouting ceased as you summoned up the energy to raise a free hand and point it towards her. She begins to choke, hands frantically grasping her throat in panic. Harper's incantation twirling through your mind like a record stuck on repeat. It wasn’t enough though. It had been too long since your last fix and your spell was far weaker from normal.

“Y/N!” Jenny's screamed, alerting you. Three more Witches entered the room. One of them grabbed Jenny and tore her away back down the corridor. The others made a beeline for you.

The front door crashed open, two men colliding through. One of them tall with a serious face and emerald green eyes, the other taller with long brown hair. They had guns aimed and ready. They began shooting.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

As you crashed through the door, you were met by three women instantly in the familiar old sitting room. You didn't recognise them. Seems Harper has been recruiting over the years. They look startled at your pistol, but they don't run or scream. They were more scared of you than the pistol in your hand, you could see it in their eyes. Harper had educated them on who you were.

“Where is she?” you grunt threateningly. They don't answer, but respond with movement. Raising there hands the three of them started to chant different spells. You cut them all off with swift bullets to the head. One by one. Dean had taught you well on how to shoot a gun.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Bang. Bang. Bang. The shorter of the two men ended the three Witches present. You gasped as you watched their bodies drop to the ground with a thud. The taller one approached you and guided you to your feet.

“Y/N right?” he asks.

You nodded, breathing shakily.

“I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean,” he explained quickly, “We're getting you out of here.”

“Get her out Sammy,” Dean ordered, “I'll go after Jenny.”

“Jenny...” you mumbled under your breath, shaking out of Sam's grasp and stumbling back towards the corridor, “Jenny!!”

Without pause, you storm through the door off the sitting room and into the corridor that lead to the back of the house.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“Harper!!?” you bellow, storming down the back corridor.

More Witches appear through the multitude of doors leading off the long hall. You end them swiftly. Stopping only to reload. She'd be in her study.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“Harper!!?” you screeched, finding the woman in her study. She had Jenny, holding her like a human shield with an arm wrapped around her neck and shoulders, “Let Jenny go!” Sam and Dean crashed through the door behind you.

“Jenny!” Sam barked at the sight, pointing his gun.

“Y/N get back...” Dean reached to grab your arm, instead to be hit by one of Harper's spells. He and his brother were thrown back into the walls and held there by her power.

The Witch cackled at the presentation before her. With a wink, she took out a vial of red fluid and rolled it across the table to you.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You barge through the study doors, ready to start pulling the trigger. But it's empty. Keeping the gun raised, you cautiously take further steps in, occasionally looking back over your shoulder. You see the cabinet, a primal feeling of want gripping at your heart. You can physically feel your body's hunger accelerate at the knowledge you were so close to what it wanted. What it needed. What you'd deprived it for so long. Clutching at your chest, you are drawn over there. You suddenly find yourself holding one of the small bottles from inside. Cupping it with both hands, you stared, not remembering when it was you laid your gun down on the desk.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“Y/N don't!” Jenny cried as you picked up the small glass container and stared at the contents with heaving breaths, “Y/N! Put it down!! This is what she wants!” “Listen to your friend,” Dean's voice came from behind you whilst your hands shook uncontrollably.

“You don't need that,” Sam's voice followed, “No matter how much you feel like you do, you don't!”

You hesitated. Your jaw trembled as you froze with the bottle in your hand. You wanted it so badly, but feared it at the same. “WEAK!” Harper shrieked impatiently. She shoved Jenny in your direction. Before you had the time to even reach ouch and catch your friend, with a click of Harper's finger, her necked snapped.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“No...” you gasp, clutching the bottle to your chest to take it out of eyesight. You shake your head, stumbling back slightly as your heart thuds erratically. Jenny... If you hadn't hesitated you could have saved her.

A sudden voice cuts through the air. For a moment, it felt like past and present imitated each other. You blink rapidly at the sight before you, seeing both momentary events meld into one.

“C'mon now pet,” Harper grinned eagerly, “Don't be shy.”

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You watched Jenny's lifeless body crash to the ground at your feet. Harper's words striking a rage within you. A monster, and it wanted to get free. You open the vial and hungrily intake it's entire contents.

“Y/N, NO!” Sam shouted desperately.

Dean's head dropped to his shoulders in defeat. He feared what was about to come next.

You take in the rush. A surge of energy ran through your entire body. It built, becoming painful, everything honed in on your brain which felt like it was about to burst.

With a shrill scream, you thrust your arm forwards, forcing all the energy accumulated in your head into the one spell. It was like an explosion. Your eyes illuminated a vibrant purple and a wave of matching colour fired from you. You were so focused on the spell, it was like everything else moved in slow motion. You willed the spell with all your might but it wasn't quick enough. With an inspired smile and a wink, Harper turned and vanished in a millisecond. The spell crashing through the place she stood mere moments after her. The blast was powerful, cutting through the wall behind like butter.

“NO!!” you screamed, running the hole you created and smashing your hand on what was left of the wall.

You sobbed, unsure whether through anger or pain. You didn’t notice the two hunters drop to the floor with a thud behind you. They tentatively approached while you were distracted in your outburst. You felt your arms grabbed and cold iron click to your wrists.

Tags!

Crossed out means Tumblr won’t lemme tag you :(

Forevers Posse: @sofreddie @chelsea072498 @ria132love @untitled39887 @chicagolove88 @akshi8278 @sis-tafics @younoeatcheeseyounobefat @mandilion76 @teamfreewill92 @supernaturalmagicfolk @emoryhemsworth @musicistobeheard-blog @pheonyxstorm Breaking A Promise Squad: @arikas5744 @lessons-of-red

#supernatural #spn #fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean x reader #dean angst #dean fluff

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askmadampresident · 7 years

Text

((This is a mild PSA about some recent drama, If you’re honestly sick of it, trying to avoid it or don’t want to hear it go ahead and skim right by this, otherwise I personally don’t want to just ignore this, but after this post, this ask blog shall move on resume as usual, continuing with the latest M!A with Prez getting slapped for every stupid idea :3))

((for those wanting to read on it’s all under the cut, and all of it is ooc))

I’m going to be honest. I’ve thought about this for awhile and I legitimately do not know how to phrase this no matter how much I think about it so, I’m just going to ramble and share my thoughts and hopefully not offend anyone.

Alright, heeere we go, moment of truth, moment I’ve been dreading for two days

alright for those of you going what the hell lemme give you a breif rundown of the situation: As brief as I can put it, this recent thread sparked quite a bit of controversy in the discord under the accusations (none of which I deny, let me make this clear) of unnecessary angst and lack of proper tagging.

I don’t know why but my brain is going into speech and debate mode so I guess i’m formatting this like an LD round argument now, but essentially I’m going to go over my defense, the counterarguments against my defense, and finally a summary to conclude

welp defense time. In my defense, I’ll address unnecessary angst first and foremost, while I do admit that thread was going overboard the way I RP is I am given a situation, or some sort of stimulus essentially, be that an ask, a thread, an M!A, an IM, etc, and what I do is I react as the character to said stimulus. The argument can also be made that I did not need to reply to said thread, that at the sight of it going overboard I could have stopped, BUT you see, the thing is I honestly can’t not reply. I have 4 prominent mental disorders, one of which being OCD, which I was very recently diagnosed with. Whenever there is a thread or a message or something and it doesn’t feel complete and it’s my turn to respond, I HAVE to respond, otherwise it can sometimes bother me for weeks on end. I don’t mean to use my mental disorder as an excuse, since that is just honestly a dick move and because either way I am still at fault, I still made the choice, even if my mental disorder caused my decision to lean toward one side more so than another. The argument could also be made that I did not have to write out that scenario and that I could have had Prez do something else, but you see, doing that would actually bother me more than not replying. Because it really, really rEALLY bothers me when I don’t play a character as accurately as I can, and it just feels so ooc and I just cannot stand that feeling at all, so I suppose yeah I made my decisions, and yeah, in retrospect they were wrong, but I honestly wouldn’t have done anything different now because it would really bother me, call me selfish, but that is how I feel.

Okay I’m just re reading this and whoops looks like I’m doing the counterarguments on the way oh well, it works

As for lack of tagging… I have no excuse, I completely forgot and that’s all there is to it. I mean I have the classic defense of “You could’ve just not read it” But that’s just dickish and shifting the blame on others which I will NOT do after a lot of people have thrown blame around ann it just… it disgusts me, all are at fault in an argument, it’s not just ever one person and if you disagree with me on that then please do not talk to me. We will never see things eye to eye if that is the case, and I would rather not have all that conflict in my life. Anyway, that defense is really just rude and I do not have any excuse to defend myself with so yeah I just outright forgot and I apologize. In the coming days I’ll be getting to work trying to tag what I can but please if you want me to tag you triggers please tell me what they are so I can tag them, otherwise I honestly won’t know.

On that topic please allow me to at least explain why I space about triggers since I believe everyone at least deserves the chance to see a story from both sides, but if you don’t want to hear it just skip over the next paragraph.

I’ve got two things here to address, my lack of triggers and my accidental habit of spacing about tagging things. As for my unfortunate habit, remember how I said I had 4 prominent mental disorders? One of which is bipolarity. I’m currently having a passive manic episode, and for those who aren’t familiar, having bipolar means having episodes of mania or depression that can last months on end, it’s not just a thing that happens and is gone in a day or two. As for why it’s important that I’m in a manic episode, for me this manifests on inability to focus on one thing at once, I have to be doing 10 things at a time or I can’t focus and get extremely bored extremely quickly and make extremely stupid and impulsive decisions, essentially I cope by doing too much at once, and unfortunately, that translates to me missing small details and sometimes large ones, and in this case that translates to forgetting to tag things, then remembering I forgot later, only to get completely distracted before I can, repeat. Then my lack of triggers… yeah this is ‘fun’, and well my manic episodes also come with minor suppression of empathy, so I at the moment cannot understand people who get triggered easily (in my depressive episodes I understand all too well and it affects me greatly then, but during a manic episode all that empathy boils down into sympathy which is something else and not completely synonymous with empathy, especially when talking in psychological terms) as well as a second factor here which is that a third mental disorder I have is severe anxiety. What does that have to do with it? Well you see I’m extremely strong willed by nature and well over the years I got reprimanded so often that I wound up sealing myself off, I made it so that nothing got to me that way I wouldn’t be anxious anymore, and as such the lack of triggers, or at least that’s the theory my therapist has. Nonetheless there are a few things that still make me breakdown in terrible panic attacks, where I can’t think, I can’t breathe, I can’t anything and I get violent if anyone tries to touch me. Such an attack nearly occurred when this discourse initially started, due to one of those few things being reprimanded by not one but many people I respect. I spent the next two days off of social media and trying to not fall apart, and only just succeeding.

AGAIN the fact that I have mental disorders in NOT to me a valid excuse for my actions! I still chose to do it and I accept full responsibility for any pain I’ve unintentionally inflicted, and I hope to do all I can to prevent it next time. If there is a next time, I do hope not.

All in all, I’ve spent two of my evening writing this, part of me being angry and upset about how this went down and because of the respect that I have now lost for some of the people whom were involved, part of me wishing preventative measures had been taken such as alerting us that we were going wrong beforehand or getting on our case about taggs early on, and part of me, the logical part, is jut ready for this to be over, but also knows that if I don’t publicly address it I’m pretty much digging my own grave, and seeming like I do not care or am a coward for not getting to this, of which I am NOT.

I thank those of you whom have read this far and listened to my little unorthodox part apology part summary part rant, because honestly it means a lot that you’re putting the time in to look at something as long as this since I believe that everyone should be allowed to know the full story before continuing on.

Well that and the fact that this is literally the blog of the biggest politician in gloomverse I’m surprised people actually care so much about it.

So thank you once again, get ready for more content momentarily~!

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