#I love how it has the layers and everything

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 7

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.9k

Note : This chapter was quite nice to write. I’ve never had siblings but I’ve had people who I thought of as siblings so I hope the work translates to the reader and Yelena. Enjoy! 

Series Masterlist

“How did You Find Me?”

Tuesday.

Eventually, it was time for you to move back to your apartment. You knew it was coming, but the knowledge didn’t make it easier. 

You had spent far more time at Bucky’s than you intended. His presence had become a comfort to the quiet confusion you occupied.

The day of the move, Bucky was there, as he had always been.

As you stood in the foreign space of your apartment, he was there— helping you rebuild the space a version of you once called home.

The two of you worked in near silence, the kind that had become comfortable. 

Every now and then, he’d ask where something should go. You wouldn’t know, so you just pointed at where you thought made the most sense.

There was something methodical about the process of unpacking and rearranging. Back at the museum, you loved cataloging, so this should have been soothing. But it wasn’t. 

As you placed your clothes back into drawers and rearranged ornamental things on the shelves, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were putting together a puzzle with missing pieces.

Bucky didn’t ask how you were, didn’t try to force a conversation you weren’t ready for. 

He just helped. 

He dusted the shelves you hadn’t touched in months. He wiped down the counters that gathered layers of dust. Every now and then, you caught him checking to make sure you were okay. 

By the time the apartment was mostly back in order, the sun had set. 

This space, once yours, felt like it belonged to a stranger. This sense of detachment was unsettling, like you were an outsider looking in.

Bucky moved towards the door, though he hadn’t opened it yet. He stood there, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his slightly torn jacket.

“It looks like it used to,” he said quietly. You glanced at him, then back at the room. You nodded, trusting that it did.

Bucky took a small step toward the door. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say goodbye, but his eyes told you he didn’t really want to go. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” he said finally. He stood there, one foot in your apartment and the other in the hallway.

You felt a flutter of panic that made your chest tighten. The thought of him leaving— of being alone in this empty space— was unbearable. 

Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “Do you think… Can you stay? M-maybe for a couple weeks?”

Bucky blinked, surprised by your request. 

For a moment, you worried you’d said too much, that you’d crossed a line.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to be alone yet,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. 

The tension in his muscles melted away as he took a slow step toward you.  

When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. “Of course.” He said, “I’ll stay as long as you need.”

Wednesday.

Exhaustion finally pulled you into a restless sleep, but you didn't find any peace. 

It was the concrete again, heavy against your body. It collapsed around you, trapping you in a suffocating darkness. The cold scrape of rubble, the crushing weight, your muffled screams—  it was too much to process. You were desperate to escape. You were struggling to breathe. 

Then, you saw a tall figure walking towards you— Bucky! 

But the walls began to close in completely before he could get to you.

Suddenly, you felt rough hands on your shoulders, shaking you firmly. The world around you started to dissolve. 

You found yourself fighting against the intrusion.

You swung in self defense, fist connecting with something solid. A sharp grunt of pain finally pulled you back into the present. 

Jolting awake, you realized you were in your bedroom. Bucky crouched next to you, clutching his jaw.

“Oh, God—Bucky! I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—” you stammered, horrified.

His eyes softened relieved that you were awake, despite the slight bruise. 

He waved it off.” It’s okay,” he murmured, taking the punch surprisingly well. “I’ve had worse.”

You looked at the clock on your bedside table that read 01.00 AM. 

Had you only been asleep for two hours? 

“You were having a nightmare,” he told you.

You sat up, clutching the blankets to your chest. You couldn’t remember all the details, but terror settled in your bones anyway.

“I’m gonna stay here,” he said. His voice was calm, almost casual, almost waiting for your permission. ��Just in case.”

Maybe you should just tell him to go back to the guest room, brush it all off with a forced laugh, or apologize profusely for punching him.

But the idea of being alone again, left to wrestle with the dark corners of your mind, was unbearable. 

You managed a nod. 

He eased himself beside you. He stayed above the covers, respecting the boundary between your space and his.

For a while, neither of you spoke. Bucky simply leaned back, propping himself on one arm, his other hand close to yours but not quite touching.

Eventually, he broke the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head. It was too soon to put the fear into words. Bucky nodded, and you were grateful for it. He leaned back, his head resting against the headboard.

After a few moments, you let out a shaky breath.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”

Slowly, hesitantly, you let your eyes shut, listening to the calm, reassuring sound of his breathing. Each rise and fall of his chest became an anchor, something to focus on beyond the remnants of your nightmare. 

The bed dipped slightly as he adjusted, inching closer. His human hand laid next to yours, a quiet offer of comfort if you wanted it.

Finally, you shifted closer, curling into the warmth of his presence. His arm wrapped around you, gentle and protective.

You didn’t think you could fall asleep again, but with him there, the crushing weight in your chest began to ease.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered.

Saturday.

You started feeling at home again. 

As your eyes drifted to the former winter soldier readjusting flowers in your vase, you started to think that  maybe home didn't mean a place. Maybe home, to you, was a person.

Each morning he made you coffee, handing you a mug without a word. He offered to help with laundry. Slowly, he started moving his things here. His clothes. His toothbrush. His shoes.

He didn’t hover, but he was always around, as if he could tell when the walls began to feel like they were closing in. Sometimes, he’d catch you staring out the window, lost in thought, and he’d nudge you gently. Other times, he’d suggest small things to keep you anchored—a walk around the block, a stop at the corner store for groceries, or a quiet evening watching old movies. 

Today, you had trailed your fingers on his jaw, looking at the spot you had punched him in your sleep several days ago. You were amazed at how the bruise that formed was no longer there. Guess it made sense— super soldier healing and all. 

If only the bruises in your mind healed that quickly.

The nightmares didn’t vanish, but they started to lose their edge. When they came, they didn’t feel quite as suffocating, partly because when you’d wake, he’d be there.

He stayed in the guest room most nights, but if you needed him, he’d be there without question, laying with you until morning.

He tried to act as if he was happy with this being casual, being platonic. 

Sure.

Sunday.

Today, you found yourselves on the couch after a long day of training. Bucky had brought over a couple of old records he’d picked up from his storage room, and you both took turns picking the next one to play. 

At one point, you caught him watching you. 

When you looked over, he didn’t look away, didn’t try to hide the way he was studying your how your eyes lingered on his. 

After a moment, Bucky’s expression grew thoughtful.

“You know, that nightmare you keep having... with the concrete ?” He paused, meeting your eyes, weighing whether he should continue. “That’s actually what happened during the mission.”

You felt your chest tighten. "What do you mean?"

“I was part of the rescue team that went in to get you out.” He took a steadying breath. “I was the one who found you underneath the rubble.”

“You… saved me,” you whispered, trying to piece everything together. “I must’ve hit my head before you got there. I think I— I’ve lost them by then..”

He nodded, “You said you see me in your dreams sometimes,” His voice softened. “I was probably the first person you saw after hitting your head.”

Oh.

Bucky had been your first new memory in four years, the first face you’d seen after the darkness. All the quiet pull you’d felt toward him suddenly made sense. 

The strange safety you felt with Bucky—finally made sense. For once, something made sense.

It’s been so fucking long since anything made sense.

Tears slid down your cheeks, slow at first, then everything spilled over. 

The sobs came hard. When your shoulders shook, Bucky pulled you into his arms without hesitation. His hand moved gently along your back as the record skipped quietly in the background. 

He didn’t say a word. He just held you, knowing how much you needed this release. 

When the tears finally eased, you managed a weak, watery laugh. “So,” you joked. “I basically imprinted on you like a little gosling.”

He chuckled. “Lucky me.”

Monday.

The museum was unusually quiet, just the soft hum of ventilation and the muffled steps of a few wandering visitors. Maybe the laugh of a couple school kids pointing at the Homo Erectus display. 

You said hi to Alex before making your way in. 

You and Yelena moved through the halls. She had suggested the museum for your post-training catch-up today, knowing how familiar this place was to you. 

As you strolled through the Ancient Greek exhibit, you pointed at a sculpture that caught your attention.

"That's Mnemosyne," you said, "The goddess of memory."

Yelena looked at the statue with a curious squint. “There’s actually one for that?”

You nodded, feeling a faint sense of purpose as you explained. “In Orphism, which is this really interesting ancient Greek tradition, they believed the newly dead would drink from the River Lethe, which would make them forget their past lives. But if you drank from the river of memory—Mnemosyne—you’d remember everything and be free from the cycle of reincarnation.”

She turned to you, giving a small, almost mischievous smile. “And here you are, teaching me about memory after you’ve lost four years of it. Irony’s got a sense of humour.”

You chuckled, though the joke stung. “Drinking from Mnemosyne’s river would be pretty useful right about now.” Your tone was light, but the longing was unmistakable.

Yelena looked back at the statue. “Maybe you’re not supposed to get those years back,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe… they’re not important.”

There was a comfort in her words, as if forgetting allowed you to live in the present. To be new. To be whoever you decided you wanted to be.

After a while, you both settled on a bench in a quieter part of the gallery. The moment felt calm, with only the gaze of painted portraits and ancient relics to overhear you. 

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” you started, the words slipping out quietly. “It’s about Bucky.”

Her brow lifted slightly, leaning in. “Oh?”

“He’s been staying with me.” You took a deep breath. “Sometimes he stays in my room. He’s been helping me regulate my nightmares.”

Yelena listened, her features falling as she gave you a small nod of encouragement.

"I think…” you trailed off, heart fluttering nervously, “I think I’m falling in love with him.”

Yelena’s expression stayed steady, but her eyes sharpened a bit. She nodded, but her face was unreadable.

“I’m happy for you,” she said, though there was a hint of hesitation that you didn’t catch. “You sound… at peace with him.”

Relief washed over you in waves. Yelena’s support mattered to you in ways you didn’t quite understand.

“I feel safe with him,” you admitted, a smile spreading across your face. “I don’t know how to tell him yet, but… it’s just nice to feel… something real.”

She reached across, giving your hand a small squeeze. “You deserve to feel safe.” 

Her fingers lingered hesitantly before she let go.

An edge flicked behind Yelena’s eyes, a tension you couldn’t quite place. You thought it was just worry, the way she’d been looking out for you ever since everything went blank. 

But her mind was piecing together things she knew about Bucky that you’d forgotten— that she wasn’t sure you were ready to hear.

As you shared more— about how Bucky had held you through the worst of your nightmares, how he stayed without ever asking anything in return— she listened. 

She didn’t want to shatter the peace you’d found, not when you were finally beginning to reclaim your life. 

Still, she knew there were parts of Bucky that could change everything if they came to light.

She had thought, naively, that Bucky would tell you. Maybe he was just waiting for the right moment

But the way you spoke about him made it clear he wouldn’t.

Wednesday.

Yelena found Sam in the gym, his back to her as he worked through the last of his reps. 

Sam took a seat on the bench, ready to hear her out. 

She didn’t waste any time. She said your name, voice barely above a whisper.

Sam knew Yelena was protective of you, especially now, after everything you’d been through. "Go on," he coaxed.

Yelena’s hands clenched into fists. 

"She’s falling in love with Barnes, Sam." Her voice wavered, and she looked away for a second, like the thought of you being hurt was something she couldn’t bear. "But she doesn’t know what he was like before."

Sam’s shoulders slumped.

“I know,” he started. “But I don’t think he’s just pretending to care."

“But she doesn’t know.” Yelena’s voice cracked. "She doesn’t know he’s… he’s just trying to undo the damage he caused in the first place. I can’t let her fall for someone who’s hiding her own past from her." She took a shaky breath, blinking back the tears. 

You were the first person who came as close as a sister to her since Natasha... and losing the last four years you had together had been harder on her than she'd like to admit. Losing you to grief, losing your trust? That would break Yelena.  "She deserves the whole story. She deserves a choice.”

“It’s not that simple.” Sam looked away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I saw him. In the hospital, before she woke up. He was there, holding her hand, talking to her for days as if she could hear. He wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t let her be alone."

Bucky had faced what she couldn’t bring herself to — he’d seen you at your lowest, at the brink of death. When Yelena first heard what had happened, she had locked herself to waste away in her apartment, sinking to the floor as sobs destroyed her body. 

She couldn’t go to see you— how could she?

She couldn’t bring herself to see even a hint of bruising on you. Couldn’t bear to witness the blood pooling on your head, the cuts on your limbs.

Hearing Sam tell her what happened to you had reminded her of losing Natasha.

The fear had paralyzed her. She couldn’t bear to see you unconscious, clinging to life by a fragile thread.

She hadn’t been there then, but Bucky had.

"It doesn’t change what he’s hiding.” She murmured, barely audible. “If he really cares about her, then he should be brave enough to tell her the truth.” Her voice trembled. “If she finds out he’s only with her to make up for his mistakes, to… to fix some guilt inside him, it’ll destroy her.”

No one’s allowed to destroy her, she thought, not after everything she had been through. 

“It's not just guilt.” Sam insisted. "Every time I see them together, it doesn’t look like he’s trying to atone. I know Bucky much better than you do. It looks like he’d finally realised what he’d— that he’d… that he loves her.”

No, Yelena thought. She knew he always had feelings for you but there's no way he loves you more than I do. 

She’d been there first; she knew you better than anyone, knew the sound of your laughter and the quiet sadness you tried to hide. She had loved you, the way she’d loved Natasha—like family. You were her sister in every way but blood.

But now, watching the way you talked about Bucky, the way he seemed to carry your pain as if it were his own... 

Maybe he did love you more, in ways she couldn’t, in ways she’d never even considered. 

“He still needs to tell her the truth,” her voice was much softer now,  though no less fierce. “He owes her that much."

“Then talk to him,” Sam nodded. “Make him see what’s at stake.”

“And if he doesn’t tell her?” Yelena blinked. "I can’t watch her fall apart. Not again."

“Neither can I.” Sam’s voice strained as he packed his things into his duffel bag, "But let him try. Give him more time.”

Time.

Yelena knew better than most people that time was just a cruel joke running circles around mortals like her.

And she was getting impatient.

-to be continued…

Taglist : @hzdhrtss @irisk12 @tayyyystan @seventeen-x @lomlbuckybarnes 

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @avatarofthetimelords @bckynatt @winchestert101 @zemosprincesa 

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@jason-todd-fangirl-14 @vickie5446

[chongoblog]

SCREW IT IM GONNA TOOT MY OWN HORN FOR A BIT

So it's been like a month since I put up my last big mashup, and the response has been awesome. I wanted to talk about all the little bits I put in there, because frankly, I put a lot of love into it, and I want to share it! Here's the video of the mashup with the music video (which is a big part of it.)

First of all, shoutouts to Shoocharu for the incredible animation for the original MV. I've found him to always have the best Game Grumps animations, and his abilities work perfectly for this music video.

Okay, now just to talk about all the Silly Jokes and Bits and Stuff. A lot of these were noticed by comments (and shoutouts to them! I love seeing people get these)

-Ska Cha Cha is used as a reference to the name of the actual song "Transcendental Cha Cha Cha". Close enough.

-A couple samples are used multiple times at different points in the song. For "Tik Tok", "Ska Cha Cha" and "Down" it makes sense since it's the chorus of the song. However, I also bring back "I'm Blue" and "Toxic" because in the original song, those samples are played over the lyrics "The universe is getting colder, colder. Still every universe somehow got Zumba". Those lyrics are repeated at the end of the song, showing how what was once madness is now being embraced. I thought playing those samples again with the full mix was appropriate.

-And yes, in the two appearances of The Void in the music video, MEGALOVANIA plays because he looks kinda like Sans.

-"words, words, words" was a super interesting inclusion. At first I added it because of the lyric "Just relax..." which is a lyric during that portion of Transcendental Cha Cha Cha. Also, not only did "here's two facts" thematically work well (since the song was about to discuss two separate universes) but it also perfectly aligned rhythmically. Also, that "words, words, words" line might be one of my favorite pre-choruses ever.

-I included Cruel Angel's Thesis at someone else's suggestion, but I'm really glad they suggested it. I actually start it with a somewhat heavy low pass filter before slowly fading off it because I thought it sounded cooler.

-I included "Harder Better Faster Stronger" during that portion because Tom's vocal effects sound similar.

-Cha Cha Slide matches perfectly since the lyrics of Transcendental Cha Cha Cha are also "Slide to the left....slide to the right". Incredibly proud of the little breakdown I included during the mix-up portion.

-"Sometimes this song, it sounds like" segment is referencing myself, since over the years I have developed my own patterns. Sometimes the song does indeed sound like Crawling (plus funny commercial next to it. Again...patterns) and sometimes it does sound like All Star (shoutouts to Star Shop)

-The Mighty B! Theme slaps actually.

-I felt like I had to include the Peanut Butter Jelly snippet, since "it's everything and nothing, it's a baseball bat" sounded almost like it was a direct reference to it. I wanted to include the original Tom Cardy lyric on top of that one both to hammer home the joke and also because I thought the harmonic vocals layered perfectly onto Peanut Butter Jelly Time would make for a nice touch.

-Every time I saw someone notice that I put the "God Dammit" directly after Never Gonna Give You Up to imply that he was mad about getting rick rolled, I gained a year of my life.

-Keeping the "Blink!" from the original song I felt was useful to help kinda punctuate the wildly different samples I was using.

-"Money Game" and "Money Money Money" being played over the French Revolution. Completely unrelated, but have you noticed how much wealth inequality we're facing here in America? That's interesting.

-"Closer" and "Closer" is such an easy joke. In fact it's so easy I've done it before. Did it anyway lmao

-During the big buildup, "Larger Than Life" was used mostly because I hadn't used that song before and I thought it was time. "Dare" was put in because I think that the vocals work really well to naturally create a sense of buildup (unless it's the Live version). "Brain Power" was put in to replicate the noise gate that Tom put on his extended note.

-Monkey Watch and Mr Brightside. Again! Patterns!

-toes

So yeah that's Transcendental Fever Dream. I'm sure if I had more time and excuses to talk about all the nitty gritty details and choices made I'd do it, but I think this is a pretty big breakdown. Something's always felt kinda Big about this one. I think that save for Super Smashup, this is the best mashup I've ever made, and I think it acts as a sort of a culmination of these last 7 years or so of mashups. No idea what the future holds, but if it comes from love, then it's gonna be great.

Thanks for reading.

[miscellaneouzz]

More Vox Machina meta time bc I feel like people do NOT talk enough about how complex Pike and Scanlan’s relationship is. First off the show is very good at steering away from the typical he’s-annoying-so-she-eventually-gives-in misogynistic approach a lot of those types of dynamics have. Like it initially comes off as just cute and flirtatious until their dynamic ironically becomes the least romantically driven of the main ships in a way that’s far more layered than I expected. It always feels like Pike’s complicated feelings come with observing Scanlan from a distance, she’ll flirt back and play along but ultimately wants to see the person he COULD be, the more sincere and earnest side to him (which can also be tied to Zerxus’ comment about her taking pride in “redeeming” her friends).

But then from Scanlan’s perspective, becoming the person he “could” be means distancing himself from Pike completely, because he’s in love with her and in his mind he sees that as an example of him clinging to his old habits of “finding all the wrong ways” to fill his emptiness. His scene with her on the balcony felt like such a culmination of both their complicated feelings– him relying on those coping mechanisms and Pike recognizing that– and I think that’s part of why he cried and why Pike pulled away at the last second. After that scene, we pretty much see Scanlan stop pursuing romantic interest in Pike for the rest of the season, but she’s still the only person he’ll be vulnerable with.

So then comes this heartbreaking irony that Pike’s been wanting more sincerity from Scanlan for a while now, only for Scanlan finally opening up more about his feelings to include him saying things that end up hurting and pushing away Pike. Because now Scanlan being more vulnerable and sincere means finally admitting he doesn’t view Vox Machina as his “real” family and that he never thought he mattered when he was with them and I don’t think that’s something Pike was truly ready for. And in the end Scanlan is still defining his worth purely on his relationships with others– if he’s no longer pouring his identity into romance/sex, he’s gotta pour it all into his newfound parenthood. He’s still flawed and not in a way where everything just hinges on Pike to “fix” him.

I think when it comes to the romantic relationships in the series it’s the one I’m most invested in from a character perspective. They’re the only pairing that’s yet to sincerely confess or discuss feelings for each other despite how much their relationship focuses on the need for sincerity and it’s so interesting. Like through the relationship struggles of Keyleth x Vax and Percy x Vex, we still see them be more open and upfront with both the conflicts and resolutions of their feelings for each other.

Pike & Scanlan are the only ship we’ve seen neither for, neither a straightforward conversation on the conflict of their relationship itself nor a sincere resolution to their feelings. And I think it has a lot to do with the parallel you can make about their own crisis of identity. Their character motivations and struggles with identity are not entirely dependent on each other as Scanlan has a tumultuous relationship with parenthood and Pike with her faith yet they impact each other so deeply.

There’s a lot more to say BUT for now… onto whatever season 4 brings for the gnomes!

[bazingabitch2000]

Tori Spring and Michael Holden head canons:

Michael and Tori are both autistic, though they express it differently. Michael's traits appear more outwardly visible, while Tori’s are subtler, perhaps because Solitaire is narrated from her perspective. We see her tendencies through her internal thoughts, actions, and reflections, all filtered through her own lens. I also think Michael may have ADHD as well.

Michael and Tori are in a queerplatonic relationship. It is NOT a romantic or sexual relationship. Their kiss at the book's end feels out of place; their connection doesn’t need that romantic signal. Queerplatonic relationships like theirs are as valid and significant as romantic ones. Michael is Tori's person, and Tori is Michael's person. I think what they have is beautiful, and it shouldn't be meddled with.

Michael is one of the only people who is able to make Tori laugh - and I mean REALLY laugh. She doesn't hide her face so much when she laughs around him. Sometimes, she laughs in spite of him. She can't help but admit that he cracks her up. She secretly loves that. Michael also secretly loves that. Sometimes they'll spend hours laughing until their faces and tummies hurt, and one of them either decides to finally go home, or they both just fall asleep together.

Tori just borrows Michael's sweaters whenever. She gets looks from her mum, Charlie, and the others, and she knows what they think. She knows they think that her and Michael are together. She doesn't bother to correct them because it's too exhausting, and they'll never get it.

Tori is cold - always. No matter what time of year, or how many layers she's wearing, she is always cold and always complains about how cold it is. Michael is the opposite of this, and is always lovely and warm. He doesn't even have to wear loads of layers. He's always pretty warm. Michael teases Tori for the fact that she's always freezing cold.

Michael makes Tori watch films she's never watched, and once she does, she reluctantly admits that they're actually great films.

Once Tori watches a new film that Michael has recommended, she makes a playlist based on the film, or a favourite character of Michael's from that film.

Tori finds people who reject pop music as “too mainstream” insufferable. She can rant about it for so long that the room falls silent.

Michael is never surprised when he sees that Tori is online at like 2 am. He teases her about it, and begs her to try and go to sleep at a respectable hour, but she never gives in.

Tori refuses to speak with anyone at breakfast if she can avoid it. She makes a point of making sure she can eat breakfast alone in the kitchen or eat it in her room. Either way, her headphones are on as she listens to Coldplay or Radio Head. If someone interrupts her, she glares and reluctantly removes her headphones.

Sometimes, Tori dissociates while she's around her friends. She finds herself questioning whether everything going on around her is real. Whether it's actually happening. Her friends don't seem to notice.

Tori's closet is full of hoodies, while Michael has a growing collection of sweaters.

Tori drinks everything with a straw.

Michael likes to give Tori small doodles, drawings, and notes. Tori keeps all of them and looks at them every once in a while when she can't sleep.

Tori absolutely refuses to ever use the overhead light. She will avoid using it at ALL costs.

Tori gets very bad migraines a lot. They even make her lightheaded and on the brink of fainting. She shrugs it off or plays it off that she's fine around others, but Michael can usually tell. Michael brings paracetamol or ibuprofen always, just in case. He also reminds Tori to drink water.

Tori lives off buttered noodles/pasta, mac n' cheese, or nuggets and chips a lot of the time. She can't cook to save her life.

Sometimes Tori finds herself watching game shows like Tipping Point and The Chase. She genuinely enjoys watching them and tries to play along.

Tori refuses to buy a new phone until her current one is on it's last legs. She just can't comprehend why and how people will buy a new phone once a new model is out.

When she was younger, she would get in trouble for cutting her hair on her own with a scissors.

Tori almost always has a blanket with her in her house. She has plenty of blankets in her room. When she's in the living room, you can bet she has a blanket.

In school, Tori was either the one telling everyone to “shut up” or sitting silently by herself. She was never part of the noise.

Michael would feel bad if any of his teddies were left out, so he would sleep with all of them, or have some sort of rota/routine and sleep with a different one each night.

[childrenofcain-if]

I'm hooked onto D's route and it's amazing how you're putting a band storyline inside another storyline. I can't wait to see where it goes cause my MC is gonna have her hands full trying to juggle both being a part of a secret society and a band on top of being a full-time student 😭

My question is if we'll be able to have any creative control over the music? I'm guessing D does most of the writing but I imagine my MC to also be a songwriter. They're already sharing vocals with her, I wonder if they'd be willing to write songs together or have some of her songs featured in the album.

I'm also curious about the rest of the band, what do they think about having two vocalists and do they have any creative control over the band's music? I'm salty Julian isn't an love interest, my Italian heart immediately recognised a kindred soul and it doesn't help that he looks like Jeff Buckley lol

none of the band members aside from D, except maybe mavis at times, are very keen on writing songs. they’re strictly musicians who are great at a variety of instruments but songwriting is where they draw the line. D is the brains of the band, and the reason why their lyrical aspect is as good as the instrumental parts.

in similar way to how the rest of the band members have little to no interest in writing the songs, D has little to no interest in the production part of it. they gladly let everyone figure out how the instrumentals are supposed to go and how they must be layered alongside the vocals. their discography has a fair amount of songs where there are no vocals to simply let the talent shine.

eli is the main producer and arranges everything together to form the final product. they’re their keyboardist, sure, but they’re also an amazing composure who turned down going to the royal college of music in london because yale was giving them a full ride scholarship as an international student and they didn’t have the funds to attend the former.

MC can join the creative process alongside eli and help composing and producing the final product. they can also have their written materials be featured in the band’s discography cause they’re all happy enough to have another good songwriter in the group.

D won’t have a thrilled reaction to having to share the vocalist spot in the future but you can change their mind with the upcoming auditions 👀 they’re very much not immune to someone who clearly has the talent to back everything up 🤷🏻

i’m glad you loved julian omg, he is an absolute sweetheart and he is very much based on jeff buckley because my mum loved the guy’s music growing up 🤭

[apdreadful]

I feel like Tim Minear Game-of-Thrones’d us. Giving us all the deep subtext and layering and character growth and then went…”meh. I wanna do something else”

Why even bother to bring back Tommy’s character?

Why give him layers and nuances? With the history he has with the 118? So much potential for great future storylines…

Why finally give Buck someone who makes him genuinely happy? Who understands his job, and is pretty much a perfect fit for Buck?

And then completely out of fucking left field, where did that come from/not even a small cloud of portent.

Break them up like this?

And that completely lazy and uninspired trope of “I want to end this before I get hurt because I think I like you more than you like me?”

NOBODY does that. Nobody finds someone they connect with and have deep feelings for and breaks up for that stupid cowardly reason.

Everyone, when they find that person wants to be with that person as long as they can, and Tommy is not a coward.

That is a lazy ass plot trope from novels and stupid TV shows.

And is completely out of character for both of them. Unless all of that character growth for Buck last season was bullshit, which makes zero sense. Tommy showed up in his turnout gear for the wedding? That isn’t a guy who isn’t invested.

There is not one logical reason to break these two up when there was reams of story to tell.

It just makes everything that came previously involving Buck, ring tired and just pointless.

It isn’t that they broke up. Though I admit I really liked Buck and Tommy together.

It’s the lazy, unoriginal, pedestrian way they did it.

How tf did Tim Minear read all of that positive love for creating this great storyline of someone coming to terms with who they are and finding the perfect person for them, all the joy for bi representation and think “hey! Let’s completely destroy all this progress for shits and giggles”

[starberry-cupcake]

I had time to read just one chapter but I wanted to make a recap anyway because the next chapter is like 360000 pages long (I may be exaggerating slightly) and I'm not sure if tomorrow I'll be able to update, so we're doing just gideon tonight (I have a feeling she'd love that wording)

previously, in harrowcita del 9:

this happened

CHAPTER 48

gideon tells harrow that she should have probably killed off mercygirl but she wasn't "thinking straight"

when has she, though

she decided to keep going further into the emperor's infested bolthole

she finds a lot of corpses of bees that have been killed already

and thinks harrowcita would have appreciated how bad and nasty everything looked

then follows the corpses and the scent of despair and murder and finds yandere twin at the end of it, standing like a pulp fiction killer

gonna illustrate with a susan denberg movie poster I find appropriate

yandere twin gets emotional and goes "harry, you're—"

to which gideon answers with "Alive, bitch"

gideon says that she "had long since ascended to the rank of double douchbag" which I consider another memorable instance of chad catching strays

and gideon has some Issues to Resolve with yandere twin

and by resolve, I mean fix them with Violence

she starts getting upset at all the things yandere twin did to harrow, which include "faked to your fucking face like she couldn't see a corpse that was obviously there"

I SAID I THOUGHT SHE WAS GASLIGHTING HARROW

gideon is very determined to fix all of this diplomatically

by beating the crap out of her

they start a banter that will be an incredibly entertaining thing to witness for the next pages

I can't make it justice in a recap tbh

I was just basically like

gideon will, in a very persistent way, throughout the conversation, tell yandere twin that harrow will never love her

yandere twin wants to give gideon funny nicknames, like who would do that, that's so disrespectful, I can't even fathom doing that at all

not to gideon, anyway

yandere twin says that mercygirl disappeared, augustine dropped out and gideon the first is trying to handle the stuff on his own, kinda?

she's surprised by the fact that mercygirl tried to kill harrow

"why did you ascend to be a lyctor?" "ultimate power—and posters of my face" "Fair"

they find augustine being useless in a hallway and, when he sees gideon's eyes, he panics and bolts out of there

these lyctors are all a joke istg each and every one of them

except for, I think it was cassiopeia, who had the ceramics collection, she's fine

well no, I don't condone planet murder for ceramics, but she gets a bit more points than the rest for them

there's a lot of talk about buttholes between gideon and yandere twin and I'm not above that, since I've been making bolthole jokes this whole time

gideon is living for the nudes in yandere twin's room

nobody is surprised about that

but there's no time to think about the nudes or buttholes anymore when yandere twin pulls out a harrow letter for gideon

gideon is going through it even before opening it, as are we

she finds her glasses and a note that says

"one flesh, one end"

"Fuck one flesh, one end, harrow" "Because all I ever wanted you to do was eat me. Which is, coincidentally, what your mother said to me last night"

always so poetic, ortus can't even get close to this level

gideon keeps telling yandere twin that she has no chance with harrow

"I hated those eyes in her face; I kept expecting to smell hair gel."

chad catching strays at every turn, I live

gideon explains about harrow being in love with ice cube barbie

"I know the signs of Nonagesimitis"

and yandere twin goes "All that fuss about the Saint of Duty. What a little hypocrite"

which I guess is because of the whole gideon the first and not!dulcinea thing? but that's like totally different form whatever this is???

there are layers to the corpse and lyctor relationships, you guys

it's a very wide spectrum

gideon says that her connection to harrow has to do with her being her cav which...ok, gideon

"Nonagesimus, you hating me always meant more than anyone else in this hot and stupid universe loving me. At least I'd had your full attention"

gideon rn:

yandere twin isn't deterred by all of this information and thinks harrow and her have an eternity to bond because they're lyctors

as if they weren't doomed right now but ok girl, go for your dreams, I guess

gideon threatens yandere twin not to be nasty with harrow and to get away from her with her nasty necro ways

yandere twin goes "What can I say, I love a little gall on gall"

which absolutely wins gideon over for a sec

"Reverse everything I just told you. Let's get married"

I knew the horny puns would help them bond

it's the little things sometimes that bring us all together

yandere twin says chad used to say she would "go to hell and get fucked" and you know what, fuck that guy

this is why he's still catching strays on a regular basis 9 months later

yandere twin wants to take gideon to see dr reverend emperor john

gideon goes "No, thanks. I'm good"

that's what I would have said, I approve

but she has no choice, because harrowcita is still gone and whatever's going on is ??????

so, out she goes to follow yandere twin to see this asshat

who maybe will, at the very least, give us a little more info on gideon's demigod status

fingers crossed

hope he dies

And that's it for this update!!! It's a short one but we're moving forward!!!

[enigma-the-mysterious]

No, actually upon pondering more about it, song and music is such an integral part of RRR. You actually cannot separate it from the story. The music is woven into the fabric of the story and the story is woven into the fabric of the music

Malli and her song Komma Uyyala literally kicks off the whole movie

Dosti is essential to show us Ram and Bheem's deepening bond and how their friendship is doomed to end in tragedy and bloodshed if they do not take the correct steps. It literally does so much heavylifting for Ram and Bheem's friendship. It brings you to care about them as friends. I would argue that the betrayal later hurts as much as it does BECAUSE of the existence of this song. Anything longer would have dragged out this already long as fuck movie. Anything shorter would have seemed rushed and contrived. Dosti was perfect and efficient.

Naatu Naatu is just a condensation of the themes and the plot of the movie. And probably also the only way Ram could get Bheem out from where the white men had him cornered without getting his friend lynched.

Komuram Bheemudo.... how do I even begin with this? It's EVERYTHING. It's the emotional climax of the movie. It's the turning point in the movie. Nowhere is the conflict between Ram's approach to the revolution and Bheem's approach to revolution more palpable than in this song. It's integral to Ram's character arc. It pushes Ram towards his epiphany. The final one hour of the movie literally would not exist if not for this song. This song is a part of the story and the story is a part of this song. FUCK

And this isn't even scratching the surface regarding the LAYERS of storytelling fuckery happening in the fucking background score. How The Fire as Ram's character motif is a red herring which only ever plays when he is acting as a tool for the British Empire and it never plays again after the flogging. How Prodigious Precision is likely to be his ACTUAL character motif. How the Komma Uyyala instrumentals forms much of the background score in Bheem's scenes like here, indicating that his love for Malli is the driving force for his actions. How Bheem- The Tsunami has vocals saying "janaab e Akhtar" indicating that his Akhtar disguise is also a part of his identity now. How the Fire and Water score has both Bheem's Gond Protector motif and Ram's Cop Motif playing before they combine and give away to a corrupted version of Dosti. How a melancholic sounding version of Dosti called Tears, Blood and Breach plays when Ram finally forces Bheem's surrender and then it never plays again for the next one hour of the movie while they are separated and at odds with each other. How the next time Dosti plays, it's only when they are finally, FINALLY reconciled and they are called Closer than Ever and Together We Rock

I don't even think I am writing propaganda at this point. It's just me being deranged.

Om Shanti Om:

Incredible movie about a failed Bollywood actor in the 70's who falls in love with a popular actress, they both get killed and he's reincarnated as the son of a superstar and get his revenge. It's an hommage to Bollywood movies from the 70's, and it also marks the end of 2000 area Bollywood. It also as the best Bollywood song ever https://youtu.be/2drIKUOCZxU

A real love letter to Bollywood. My favorite number is when a bunch of Bollywood stars make cameo appearances. It’s like a Bollywood Royal Rumble. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzLG6OqOcn8

RRR:

Best musical ever. Best action movie ever. Best period drama ever. Just the best MOVIE ever. It really is the MOST. Don't believe me? Watch Naatu Naatu. Watch Komuram Bheemudo. Then come back to me. You are welcome.

[ficandkaboodle]

Now for everybody’s favorite opinion-based game they might not admit to playing but absolutely do play in nearly every fandom they’re in:

✨🫦Does That Man Moan in Bed?!👄✨

(Sponsored by Monster Energy: We lied, we are Satanic)

Papa Nihil: Yes. Just. Yes. This man moans like a little bitch even when he’s topping. And growls. And whimpers. Even if it’s someone he’s not really into all that much. Honestly, it seems very exaggerated on his part like he’s trying to be a porn star but no, those are very real sounds he’s letting into the air like that, He just takes every ounce of pleasure he can get from the stimuli and that’s enough to make him drown out every single noise that isn’t him and maybe a bit of the bed putting up a fight.

Papa Primo: No. Lack of interest in foreplay aside, I think even a saner, more pleasant-in-bed Primo isn’t particularly noisy in bed. He comes off more as a heavy breathing, occasional panting or grunting type of guy to me. Maybe a sigh here or there. If anything, the most noise I can see him making an effort in making is either dirty talk or reciting the text for the sexual magick ritual you’re performing. You might even think he’s not into it but rest assured, he absolutely is. He’s just not a particularly bombastic person by nature, and this carries over into the bedroom. He’ll show other signs he’s into it if you think his regular sounds aren’t enough, though.

Papa Secondo: Yes but unless you two have been together a good while and he trusts you, you’d likely never know. Secondo, for as flamboyant as he can actually be outside of his robes, probably sees moaning as a sign of weakness. That, or he’s embarrassed of how he sounds. (And has probably accidentally overheard his gross old man a few times. Frankly it’s a miracle he didn’t wind up completely disgusted by sex.) He tries to make “strong manly noises”: He’s taught himself how to contort those sounds into tooth-clenching grunts and forcing himself through words unbroken. They’re sexy for sure, but when you’ve finally reached a point where he lets you hear his real sounds, you can’t help but notice an extra layer of warmth to his voice. Simultaneously, it’s lighter; more floating. Even if he trusts you now, though, he’s still going to be embarrassed about it so make sure you make it clear to him that you adore his noises and would certainly love to hear more.

Papa Terzo: Yes. Kind of. Terzo does moan, but it’s actually naturally quieter than what sounds he winds up giving in bed. He’s so used to playing everything up and bolstering peoples’ expectations of him as this flamboyant slut of a man that most of what noises he makes in bed are just exaggerations of what he actually does. He tends to make much softer moans and sighs compared to the absolutely pornographic noises most lovers wind up hearing. He tries to justify it internally as helping to arouse his partner, bringing them to that cherished orgasm, of course, the thing is that because he’s so focused on how he thinks he should sound, he doesn’t always feel every inch of his own release. Much like Secondo, I think the real sounds come through when he knows you can be trusted and isn’t afraid of you seeing the real him, warts and all. He feels much more relaxed and you can feel the depth of adoration he has for you now that he’s not so focused on putting on a show.

Papa Copia: He does but honestly? He’s more of a gasper and whimperer. Higher-pitched noises. It’s an awful thing to have inherited from Nihil, all things considered, but it makes the most sense at least to me. He’s always been a bit shy in one-on-one interactions with people. Add in a splash of possible humiliation when his peers might’ve overheard him and started calling him a Rat Boy and he might’ve just developed a means of being quieter. Well, as quiet as he can get. He’s such a sensitive topino after all. However, you absolutely can work those bigger moans and pleas out of him. Simply pin him down, praise him, ride him like he’s a sex toy that won’t break no matter how rough you ride him, and watch him unravel into a begging, crying mess beneath you that can barely string together a coherent sentence. All in all, though, for as fun as that can be, you still quite adore Copia’s usual little noises. Oh, your sweet little Satanic Church Mouse…

[tallulah477]

Soft Touches

⭒˚.⭒. 1K Follower Special .⭒.˚⭒

Pairing: Jake x Fem!Na'vi!Reader

Warnings: P in V, Fingering, Alien Genitalia, Soft Sex, Slight Tail Play, Creampie, Knotting, Finger sucking/Fingers in mouth, Slight Breeding Kink

Word Count: 4K

A/N: First fic in a while! Sorry its a little rusty.

A/N 2: For more about how I picture alien genitalia, see here.

Summary: You enjoy a nice lazy morning with your mate after a long night of celebration.

Translations:

Olo'eyktan - Clan Leader

Muntxate - Wife, female spouse

Ikran - Mountain banshee, dragon-like aerial predators

It’s mornings like these that remind you to take a breath.

The mornings when the village is mostly silent. When the normal hustle and bustle of early clan life is put on hold for just a moment, most others favoring the extra sleep and time alone with their loved ones after a long night of celebration before the reality of the day catches up to them and they need to re-enter the real world. 

The celebration was one of new beginnings. The new life born from the couple who had been trying for a long time - new parents who you had seen almost give up hope in ever conceiving after years of nothing finally receiving Eywa’s blessing in the form of a beautiful baby boy. The People cheered and prayed for their new clan member as Jake formally introduced him to the world, holding the baby high above his head and shouting his name with pride as if the baby were his own. 

You hope maybe one day soon, he’ll be able to do the same for your own child. 

As the ceremony turned into food and food turned into dance, the night passed by in a flurry of blood thumping music and happy memories. Your mate is a vision in his Olo’eyktan garb - muscular shoulders made even more broad by the layered feathers proudly displayed on him. His beautiful face somehow made even more beautiful framed by the ornate headpiece that lays distinguished on his forehead. The multitude of necklaces and armbands that adorn him, dressed with colorful beading, intricate knots, and bones. 

They’re symbols of respect. Symbols of honor. 

You can’t wait to tear them off his body when you get home.

And so you do - following every instinct you have as you rip the badges of honor from him in a fierce display that has your Olo’eyktan practically shaking in excitement and grinning that adorably goofy smile of his as he leans back against your shared woven mat, hands folded comfortably behind his head as he lets you ravage him to your heart’s delight. 

Your lovemaking is rough. Passionate. The perfect blend of ‘I love you, baby. Now fuck me like you don’t’. It’s the kind of intimacy that makes you feel alive. It’s exciting and fun, quick and intensely satisfying as you both greedily chase that pleasure that you know only the other can provide. 

“Fucked your brains out,” Jake jokes afterwards, and you resist the urge to smack him - too satisfied and gooey in the glow of the aftermath that you can’t even bring yourself to move to make the hit. 

You think he knows that, which is probably why he said it.

You don’t dream, and sometimes that’s better than even the best dreams. There’s nothing to keep your mind working, no other life to live in another world and nothing to bring your deepest fears or greatest dreams to life. It’s just silence. Pure rest and energy replenishment. You wake up feeling refreshed - calm and serene. 

Like the rest of the world is miles away and it’s just you and the love of your life together alone, away from all responsibility and the demands life brings.

Mornings like this are easy. 

Soft light just barely making it into the hut, just enough to light up everything around you, but not enough that you couldn’t easily fall back asleep if you wanted to. Jake’s arms are a warm blanket around you, keeping you close and safe and protected even in sleep. The consistent puffs of breath on your neck from where his face is pressed close to you is soothing in a way you can’t even begin to describe. You could lay here all day, wrapped up in the warmth of his body and the unassuming fuzziness of almost sleep blurring at the edges of your vision. 

There’s no worries right now, no concern or to-do’s or looming tasks that are faring for your attention. 

It’s just him and you. Even if for only right now. 

Your fingers subconsciously trace along Jake’s forearm, the tips dragging a lazy back and forth pattern along the smooth skin. He fits behind you perfectly, muscular body curling around yours like it was built to fit against yours. You think maybe it was. Eywa may not have been his maker, the body he is in now was once human-made. But despite not being his maker, she is his Mother - and you know just as well as any other Na’vi how the Great Mother can perform miracles. 

She made him for you somehow. Just for you.

Your fingers continue their featherlight touches on his arm and they’re more deliberate now as your tail curls around the back of Jake’s leg so the soft tuft of hair at the end can tickle along the back of his knee. The light touches are guaranteed to wake him up. He showers you in a strong gentleness, granting you the light and soft touches that you love so much exactly when you need them, but he prefers a firmer touch. The softer touches drive him insane after a while and he’ll often grab your hand and push it harder against his skin to starve off the sensation or even drag your nails across the spot to get rid of the itch. 

You’re a menace, purposefully teasing him with light touches just to see him react the way he does. Just because it's a soft and peaceful morning doesn’t mean you’ll show him reprieve. 

The tightness in your core says you want him, so he needs to wake up. Just the feel of his body pressing against yours and the rhythmic puffs of breath on the back of your neck is sending pleasant tingles down your spine. The warmth of his body heat turns into a different kind of warmth that swells in your stomach and settles between your thighs.

You can feel him start to stir behind you, the puffs of breath becoming harsher as his arm and leg twitch against your lovingly mean touches. Your body tenses in excitement when you feel the sharp teeth press against the nape of your neck and the low growl he lets out reverberates through your entire body.

“What have I said about the touching, baby?”

“Firm strokes,” You grin before adding on a smug, “Everywhere.”

Jake hums against you, teeth still a clear warning against the back of your neck and they dig in just a little harder at your cheeky answer. 

“That’s right,” He says against your skin. “So why is my mate being bad on this very nice morning?”

“Wanted you to wake up,” You breathe. 

Your tail flicks at the back of his knee again and you let out an excited laugh when he pulls his arm away from your tickling fingers to snatch your tail. He jerks it swiftly in reprimand, not hard enough to actually hurt but just enough for you to feel the sharp pull of it and the sensation shoots right down to your center.

“Wake up for what?” He asks, but you can hear the responding grin in his voice.

You arch your back, pressing your ass against his bare front just to drive the point home. His cock is still sheltered in its protective sheath, but the action is clear anyway. “You know for what,”

The move does its job and your Jake is significantly riled up in an instant. He presses his front harder against your back, rolling you slightly forward to better gain leverage against you. The muscular arm you’re using as a pillow shifts so that his hand can reach down and cup your breast, squeezing the soft flesh in his large hand. The other hand slides across your hip, the tip of your tail still caught in the loose ring of his thumb and pointer finger as he drags it with him between your thighs. 

He keeps it trapped there as his middle finger runs across your slick slit, sliding up and down the length of your pussy with the lightest of touches. The tuft of hair on your tail sticks together as Jake drags it with him and a part of you wants to yell at him, mortified at the idea of your own tail becoming dirtied by your own sticky mess. But the feeling of the soft hair sliding across your needy slit makes you even more desperate and the control that he shows he has over you as he uses your own hair tuft on your tail to help him tease you makes you whimper.

“Ma Jake,” You squirm. You tilt your hips trying to get him to touch you better - push a little harder, slide a finger inside, touch your clit, something. But he doesn’t budge. Just continues his teasing as he nips his sharp teeth at your ear.

“Hm, what’s wrong, babygirl?” He mocks. “I thought you liked soft touches.”

Since he moved, your hands had been clutching the wrist of the hand caressing your breast. Now, you pull one away from its resting place to grab the hand between your thighs trying to manipulate his fingers into moving to the places you want them to. The inside of your palm brushes against the sticky strands of hair as Jake makes it brush over your clit and your tail jerks in response as your body inadvertently tries to tug it away, but Jake keeps it hostage between his skilled fingers. The fine hairs leave silky lines of wetness against your palm. 

“Please,” You whine and your fingers press against his middle finger, forcing it to slip between your wet lips. “Be nice to your muntxate.”

“Yeah?” Jake grumbles. “After you were just so nice to me?”

A part of you wants him to continue to drag this out. You like the tease. The way the barely there touches are nowhere near enough to get you to where you want to be but the tortuous featherlight brush of fingers makes you wetter than direct and firm touches would. Jake knows how to play with you, knows how to work you up to near madness with barely even lifting a finger. He touches the right spots - gentle brushes against the length of your pussy, caressing along the sides and down the slit, dipping in enough just to be able to slide across your hole that clenches with need from every new ‘not touch’. Sometimes his fingers would nudge against your clit, just enough to make you jump as a shock of pleasure shoots into your belly at the place you most want him to touch finally getting some attention, even if for only one fleeting second. 

“I’m always nice to you,” You breathe. 

“Oh, yeah?” Jake laughs, knowing disbelief coloring the beautiful sound and you can’t help the cheeky grin that pulls at your lips in return. “You’re always nice to me, huh?

“Mhm,” You agree. You lean your head back so your cheek can rub against Jake’s. “The nicest and most perfect mate ever.”

“Hm,” Jake hums and your breathing hitches as when his fingers slide more purposefully towards your dripping hole. “Yeah, you’ve never been a pain in my ass for a single second, have you?”

Your tail lashes out behind you when Jake loosens his grip on it in favor of sinking his long fingers inside you. It smacks against Jake’s thigh a few times and distantly you hope that it leaves a wet spot there too as payback, but the thought is so removed from your brain right now that it hardly even registers at all. His fingers slide into you so perfectly, the size of two of them sinking into your cunt begins to stretch you out so well. Compared to the actual size of him, it's not enough to fully prepare you. But you can feel where his cock has come out to play behind you, already hard and wet from the slick of its protective sheath as it pokes at the curve of your ass. 

“You’ve just always been my good girl,”

His words are sweet, the urge to nod and agree that yes, yes you have always been his good girl is so strong as his fingers fill you up, but you know better than anyone how the edge of sarcasm in his words ring true. When you first met Jake, you had been hostile. Furious with your best friend when she had saved him in the forest and furious even more when she begged for your help to train him in the ways of The People when her father had instructed her to take on the task of babysitter. It makes you laugh now to think back on those months. Neytiri wasn’t nice by any means, but she had quickly developed a fond friendship with the dreamwalker despite her early aggression. And even though you hissed at him, smacked him instead of guiding him into place when learning to shoot a bow and arrow and use a knife, and called him every insult you knew straight to his face while fully taking advantage of the fact that he was still learning Na’vi - you had grown to be quite fond of him too.

The differences you had once held against him were now things to be cherished. The five fingers that once made you nervous, too associated with the demons that had come and killed people that you cared about and tried to destroy your home, were a symbol of his loyalty to you and The People. He chose you - chose to be with you and give his loyalty to you and Eywa and the rest of the clan over the species he was born as, and you take pride in seeing that fifth finger on his hand, playing with it lovingly between your own fingers, and knowing what it symbolizes to you. Made a human but created by the Great Mother: different, but still Na’vi. 

But you are a warrior - fierce and focused, courageous and determined. Maybe a little aggressive. Stubborn. So maybe you’re not always as nice as you could be. The fondness grown from spending the time of getting to know Jake and the unavoidable blessing of love that came after couldn’t have stopped the aspects of your personality and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you were always a patient, kind, and understanding bundle of joy. You argue and expect things, fierce in your opinions and beliefs just as fierce as you love. 

You would never have found a worthy match with someone else in the clan. No one else could have ever handled you the way Jake can. No one else would have ever loved you as much as Jake does. 

You’re a pain in his ass - on him from the start if he’s wrong about something, making a bad call or the wrong decision, and you push him to be better as a good mate should. Direct communication. No sugar-coating things. Jake can handle it and you hate it in the moment, but you’re grateful that you can say he returns the favor too. 

“My perfect mate,” Jake agrees and your tail shakes with excitement as he digs his fingers in deeper.

You’re so wet already, slick pooling between your thighs as you spread them more to give him a little more space for his hand. The hand on your breast clings to it, not letting go or loosening its grip for a second as he squeezes at your chest. His clever fingers form a cage around your nipple that pinches the hard bud between his third and fourth finger with each squeeze, and the sharp pang of pleasure that courses through your body from the stimulation drives you to grind down on the hand between your thighs even harder.

His fingers feel so good inside you, stretching you and thrusting as deep as they can go as you leak around them. He knows all your good spots, fingertips curling and rubbing against your slick walls as he torments the spots he can reach in his position and rakes the tips of his fangs on the back of your neck to make up for the ones he can’t. Your hand is still laying on top of his, moving with it as if it’s guiding its movements. Jake lets you keep it there. He knows you like to act like you’re in control sometimes. 

The thick head of his cock pokes at your ass, sliding against the curve of it and your hand finally leaves the top of his to reach behind you. Your hand curls around his length, stroking gently and feeling each textured bump and barb rub against your fingertips. His fingers are good, magical even. But even in the soft morning glow when things are quiet and you should be satisfied, it’s still not enough. 

“Ma Jake, please?”

He chuckles. “You’re so polite when you want something,” 

You grin. “Don’t make me be mean,”

Jake shifts his hips harder against your ass, somehow shoving his fingers deeper inside you as he rubs his cheek against yours, lips pressing just off to the side of your own in a quick kiss. “Yeah, wouldn’t want you to be mean, would we?”

The joking tone is there again. The humorous sarcasm. Jake likes you when you're sweet and pliant - it's a rarity that he likes to enjoy in the odd moments that it comes like this one. But he loves it when you're mean. 

He doesn’t let you respond, instead choosing to be nice and halting the sweet torment of his fingers in your cunt and replacing them with the blunt press of his cock at your entrance. Your body mourns the loss of his fingers when he pulls them from between your legs, but you do well to push the feeling down when he hooks his hand under your knee and bends your leg up, spreading you more to give him easier access to push his cock inside. 

Your eyes flutter shut in bliss as his length spears you open, stretching you and filling you up the way you know only he can. You can feel every delicious raised bump on his cock as he slides into you and you squeeze down on him, reveling in the way the texture scrapes against your slick walls. 

Sometimes you wonder what it would have been like to be like this with him in his human body. Wheelchair and paralyzing spinal injury aside - you still imagine him standing straight, as tall as he can be, and staring at you with that daring, cocky, fearless expression of his - smirking and ready to tame you just as he had tamed his ikran. 

He’d be so much smaller than you. Your hand easily encompassing the entire side of his head as you pulled him in for a kiss, and the agitation you might feel at having to wait even for the few seconds it takes for him to pull off his breathing mask. He’d be smaller down there too. The thought makes you giggle a little. It’s a shame really - because the idea of trying the human version of him, despite your pretenses, is very appealing. Smaller human Jake is still your Jake, no matter what body he is in.

How would it feel? There would be no barbs or added texture for stimulation, no extra slick other than a small amount of precum to make taking it any easier. No knot to lock you in and keep you close afterwards. 

How would it feel encased snugly inside your walls? It would be smooth, right? Save for maybe a vein here and there. He’s told you before that a human’s genitalia hangs outside the body, balls included. You think that’s rather interesting. Stupid - but interesting. A flawed design in a species that mostly considers itself perfect. But what would that feel like? You can picture what you think that would be like - Jake’s own swinging, unprotected, with each thrust. Would they slap against your ass as he fucks you? Could they hit your clit if you make him fuck you with you on all fours?

You’d never ask him. Your pride would never let you. But sometimes, you think about it and wonder. The desire to try something you know you never can and to do it with the only person you would ever want to try it with. 

The first retreat of him pulling back and then the slow and dragging slide of him pushing back into you makes sure to clear that lingering thought out of your mind. What could you possibly want that for when you have this right here? 

Perfect, passionate, intimate, and completely yours. 

His lips are at your ear, panting breath fanning at the curve of it as he murmurs to you about how tight you are and how good you feel around him. Like a perfect sleeve made just for my cock, he tells you, and groans when the words make you clench around him like a vice. 

Jake’s hand lets go of your knee to reach around your front again, fingers finding the sensitive bud between your thighs. Your clit throbs under his touch and there’s people around you in the nearby huts - families who can definitely hear you if you get too loud. And even though sex is not taboo among the Na’vi like you’ve learned it is among many humans, it's still early on a morning post celebration and people are sleeping. You don’t think Weim, Tsuakir, and their young daughter, Iski, would appreciate getting woken up by the pleasured mewling cries of their Olo’eyktan’s mate before it’s time for them to rise. 

You get out one loud moan before Jake is pulling his hand from your breast and shoving his fingers in your mouth. 

“Shhh, babygirl,” Jake whispers. “Can’t keep you all to myself if you wake up the whole damn village.”

A part of you wants to bite at the fingers in your mouth, the urge to rebel in any way you can against Jake’s slight increase in control over you, but they work too well - long digits pressing into the sides of your cheek and against your tongue just enough to keep you quiet. His other hand is drawing swirls around your clit, using the combined wetness of both of your slicks to make it nice and slippery.  

The knot on the base of his cock is swelling, pushing and pulling at the rim of your entrance with each rhythmic rock of his hips, and you suck eagerly at Jake’s fingers in your mouth as your body molds to each stretch and give. Jake’s voice is in your ear, gravely and deep as he groans about how he’s going to tie you to him, keep you locked on his cock and fill you up until your belly swells. 

“Maybe next time it will be us up there introducing our kid to the clan,” He grunts, nipping your ear with his sharp teeth. You moan, eyes fluttering as his thrusts speed up, the wet sounds of skin on skin and his voice filling your ear is all you can hear in the small hut. “Would you like that, baby?”

The swollen knot catches on your rim, pushing inside with a pointed snap of Jake’s hips, and you gasp when it slips inside you, stretching you to what you always feel are your limits but your body welcomes him willingly. The shock of his knot locking inside you and the insistent circles on your clit trigger your orgasm, and you cum to the warmth of Jake’s own release painting your insides as you clench around him, pleasure crashing through your body and leaving you feeling all the more fuzzy and weightless in the soft morning glow filling the hut than how you woke. 

Jake’s arms cuddle around you, his head laying on top of yours as you both bask in the afterglow. The village is starting to come back to life around you, sounds of children playing and the usual hustle and bustle of clan life making its way through the entrance of your home. Soon, you’ll have to leave the safety and closeness of Jake’s loving hold.

But not right now - you still have some time left. 

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[hawthorne-bias]

fall into his orbit

Married to Loki, the god of mischief, Y/N is still in awe of her new life—as an Asgardian princess, a title she never dreamed would be hers. Her world, once confined and unremarkable, now sprawls out before her like an epic tale too vast for her to fully grasp. The splendour of it is intoxicating, each new discovery both a marvel and a mystery, and with every passing moment, she grows more eager to uncover the layers of a life she never imagined. But what of Loki? A riddle wrapped in shadows, whose every smile holds both a question and a command, whose every word is a carefully concealed truth. Y/N is left to navigate the labyrinth of him, drawn in yet uncertain, as though the man she married is a world unto himself—one she is not yet allowed to enter fully. With her quick wit and stubborn heart, however, she is ready for whatever challenges lie ahead—and maybe, just maybe, she will uncover the man behind the enigma… but only if he allows it, of course.

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader Tags: Takes place before the movie 'Thor (2011)'; Arranged Marriage; Fluff; Some Humor; Slow Burn Romance; Developing Characters and Relationship; Awkward Tension; TW—sarcastic comment on death, hints of jealousy or insecurity, subtle power dynamics. Oneshot belonging to the series 'you were never a saint, and I’ve loved you all the same' // Read on AO3 // wc: 1674 A/N: I don't own MCU or its characters :) Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3

The soft light of dawn spills across the golden spires and shimmering towers of Asgard, bathing the majestic city in warm, golden hues. Y/N stands at the balcony of the royal palace, leaning slightly over the edge, her eyes wandering over the sprawling vista below. The kingdom of Asgard stretches out before her, its shining white stone walls and towering structures bathed in early morning light. From here, she can see the vast expanse of the Bifrost Bridge, stretching far into the distance, the rainbow bridge gleaming like a thread of colour woven into the sky. The glittering rivers and pristine gardens of Asgard, flanked by golden statues, catch the light and shimmer like jewels scattered across the landscape.   

She has known this land all her life—walked its streets, trained in its courts, and now, here she is, in the heart of the royal palace, gazing down at it from a vantage she has never before had. 

She never thought she would see Asgard like this. From the high balcony of the palace, everything looks more magnificent than ever. The city, spread out beneath her, seems almost unreal—like a creation from the hands of gods themselves. I could stay here forever, she thinks, a fleeting thought that fills her with a quiet warmth.   

Asgard beneath her, still bathed in the soft, peaceful embrace of morning, seems almost otherworldly. The grand towers of the palace, the golden gleam of the Bifrost, and the distant mountain peaks all merge into one perfect scene. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of this view, she muses, a warmth blooming in her chest as she takes in the beauty.   

Her thoughts are so consumed by the scene that she doesn’t hear the footsteps approaching her from behind until a sharp voice splits the stillness.   

“ How wonderful it must be, ” the voice drawls, laced with sarcasm, “ to find one’s wife plummeting to her death first thing in the morning, hm? ”   

Y/N’s foot catches on the edge of the balcony as she spins around, startled by the sudden intrusion. Her balance falters, and before she can catch herself, her body tips backward. A startled yelp escapes her lips as her arms flail, desperately trying to find some purchase.   

She falls heavily to the marble floor, landing with a soft thud , her legs awkwardly entangled beneath her. Staring up at the sky in stunned silence, she can hardly believe the absurdity of the situation. Well, that was unexpected, she thinks, half-amused despite herself.   

For a moment, she remains there, dazed, simply gazing up at the pale sky as she tries to collect herself. It’s not so bad, she reassures herself. Nothing broken—only my pride. But then, as the seconds stretch on, the reality of what has just happened begins to settle in, and she realizes—   

Loki is already fully dressed in his royal finery, looking every bit the part of a prince, while she—still in her nightgown—lies sprawled awkwardly on the floor.  

He stands above her, his eyes flickering between glaring at her and looking away as if some deep discomfort has overtaken him.  

It is far too early for court matters to be stirring, yet here he is, impeccably groomed, which only adds to the strange urgency of the situation.

Y/N blinks, her mouth dry from the shock of the fall, but she quickly regains her composure, forcing a soft, sheepish smile. “Good morning, Your Highness,” she says, her voice breathless but light. Though I cannot imagine how this is a ‘good’ morning for either of us...    

Loki is silent for a moment, his eyes sweeping over her with that sharp, calculating gaze of his. He seems caught between irritation and some form of awkwardness. The corner of his mouth twitches ever so slightly before he speaks, his tone curt. “Need assistance?”   

Y/N blinks in surprise. Is he offering to help? Or is this merely another sarcastic remark? She quickly scrambles to sit up, the fabric of her nightgown shifting around her, and with a nervous laugh, she brushes herself off. “No, no, Your Highness. I’m quite fine, thank you,” she says hastily, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.   

She rises quickly to her feet, smoothing her nightgown as best as she can, and makes her way inside to grab her cloak. She can’t stand there before him, looking like a complete fool. I must have looked utterly ridiculous, she thinks with a quiet groan.   

Once she has draped the cloak around her shoulders and regained her posture, she turns back toward him. “But, if I may ask,” she says, trying to sound as composed as possible despite the lingering embarrassment, “why are you here so early?” It certainly isn’t the usual time for any formal court duties, and her curiosity gets the better of her.   

Loki’s gaze softens ever so briefly, though the change is fleeting. “Can’t a man visit his wife?” His voice is laced with an undercurrent of something Y/N cannot quite place—a tightness perhaps, one that seems almost out of character.   

Y/N’s thoughts flicker back to their wedding night, remembering how clearly Loki had made it known that their marriage was a mere formality, nothing more. The sharpness of his words had lingered in the air, and she has long since come to terms with that. Still, a small part of her wonders, Could it ever be different? But she quickly shakes that thought away, dismissing it as foolishness.   

A small smile plays at the edges of her lips. “Of course, Your Highness. It’s simply... unexpected. I wasn’t anticipating a visit so early, that’s all.”   

Loki lets out a dry, almost humourless laugh, his eyes briefly flashing with something unreadable. “I must be troubling you,” he mutters, his gaze drifting away, as though lost in his own thoughts. It is unclear whether his words are directed at her or himself.   

Y/N quickly shakes her head, her voice gentle. “Not at all, Your Highness. Please, do not worry.” She pauses, then adds, with a slight change in tone, “Have you had breakfast yet?”   

Loki raises an eyebrow at the question, clearly taken aback. “Isn’t it too early for breakfast?” His tone is incredulous, yet there is something else—an exhaustion she had not noticed before.   

Y/N offers a soft grin, her tone light. “Isn’t it also too early for court affairs?” she teases, unable to resist.   

Loki’s eyes narrow slightly, though his lips quirk upward for just a moment, a hint of amusement breaking through his usual reserve. “I’m not attending court,” he replies with a touch less sharpness. “I’m heading to my office. Thor’s coronation is only a year away, and there’s an endless list of things to do—guest lists, invitations, processions, security... I can hardly keep up with it all.”   

Y/N falls silent, observing him. There is something in his voice, a strain she hadn’t expected. It isn’t just the work; there is an undercurrent of something deeper. Perhaps frustration? Or even jealousy? She has heard the whispers around the palace regarding the upcoming coronation of Loki’s older brother, and it seems that burden is now weighing on him. Poor thing, she thinks. He may never be the one in the spotlight.    

After a moment, she speaks softly, trying to ease the tension that hangs in the air. “But a year is still quite some time. Surely there’s no need to rush.”   

Loki’s lips press into a thin line as he stares out over the horizon, his posture stiffening. “A year may seem like a long time,” he says, though the words sound almost forced, as if he is trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “But it’s not. There’s always more to be done. And then, of course, there’s Thor.”   

Y/N’s heart softens as she notices the faint bitterness in his voice. So, it is jealousy, she realizes. He feels overshadowed. She doesn’t say anything about it, though. He isn’t looking for sympathy—she can see that much.   

Instead, she smiles kindly. “I’m sure you will manage, Your Highness. You’re doing your best, and that is all anyone can ask.”   

For a brief moment, their eyes meet, and the usual hardness in his gaze softens just slightly. “Perhaps,” he mutters under his breath.   

Y/N seizes the moment to offer help. “Would you like me to assist with any of the preparations?” she asks, her eagerness slipping through her words. “I may not be able to do much, but if there’s anything I can—”   

Loki raises an eyebrow, scepticism written all over his face. “And how, precisely, do you propose to assist?”   

Y/N smiles gently, though her eyes sparkle with a playful glint. “Well, you won’t know unless you let me try,” she replies. “Give me ten minutes to freshen up, and I’ll be of use in whatever way I can.”   

He sighs, though his eyes soften ever so slightly. It is almost as if he is truly considering her offer. “I never agreed to this,” he mutters.   

“You did,” Y/N says teasingly, her eyes warm. “When you married me and promised to share all your joys and sorrows. The workload is a part of that, is it not?”   

Loki sighs again, but this time, there is the faintest crack in his usual composure. “Do as you please, Princess,” he says, his voice still curt but with less of the usual edge. “What’s the point of asking when you’ve already made up your mind?”   

Y/N grins, her heart lighter than it’s been all morning.   

“I’ll see you in ten minutes, then!” she says, the promise clear in her voice.   

With that, she hurries off, her footsteps echoing softly through the quiet palace halls. She can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, things might not be as distant between her and Loki as they once seemed. And with that thought, she smiles to herself, feeling a small sense of accomplishment that lingers longer than she expects. 

[skyward-floored]

Glad to see you enjoying totk, pro tip, stock up on zonaite

Yeahhhh I realized that pretty quick. I talked to that one robot who’ll make the battery things for you and he was like “yeah I’ll need 100 of these to help you” and I had. Six. So obviously those are needed

[casualavocados]

Learn from who? Learn from you?

Chen Bowen as CHEN YI & Chiang Tien as AI DI KISEKI: DEAR TO ME (2023)

[svankmajerbaby]

she's her own means of production!!! she's the mother and the child! she's the woman and the infant! shes the teacher and the student! she's innocence and experience all in one! shes a monster and is also infinitely human!!!!!!

[wiihtigo]

these frauds

[edwardwonghaupepelutivrusky4th]

wah i looove their designs and animation...