#I’ve said this once and I’ll say it again

[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…

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[caplanbuckybarnes]

Let Me Love You (Eddie Munson)

Summary: Eddie fucked up, and he thinks you wont love him anymore.

WC: 740ish

Read on Ao3!

--

The silence in the trailer was thick, hanging heavy as a storm on the verge of breaking. You sat on the edge of Eddie’s bed, your knees drawn up close to your chest, arms wrapped around them as you tried to ground yourself. Outside, the rain beat down on the thin walls of the trailer, each droplet drumming a nervous heartbeat in the background.

Eddie stood in front of you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting with the many rings on his fingers, his hair hanging like a dark curtain around his face. He kept his gaze down, almost as if he were afraid that if he looked you in the eye, he’d lose his resolve. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising with it, but still, no words came.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know I messed up."

You looked up, and the pain in his eyes mirrored your own. "Yeah, you did."

He winced, running a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends in that way he did when he was feeling desperate. "I don’t know why… why I always feel the need to push you away when things get too close. When things get good." His voice was raw, as if every syllable hurt. "I know it doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. I don’t know what’s wrong with me."

Eddie’s eyes found yours, pleading, hoping for understanding that he didn’t deserve, for forgiveness that he hadn’t earned.

You wanted to say something sharp, to remind him that he’d hurt you, that he’d left you wondering if any of the moments you’d shared meant anything to him at all. But there was an ache in your heart that softened your anger, that made your words come out gentle instead of harsh.

"You know, Eddie…" you started, your voice soft but steady. "I love you. I’ve loved you even when you’re a stubborn, difficult mess of a person. Even when you make me feel like this, like you’re holding me at arm’s length and breaking my heart all at once. But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting for you to let me in, only for you to shut me out again."

He reached out then, his hands hovering near yours, uncertain, as if he thought he didn’t have the right to touch you anymore. "I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot, I know. But I’m trying, okay? I… I don’t know how to love someone like you. Someone who actually… cares about me." His voice broke at the end, and for the first time, you saw the vulnerability in him, the fear that lay behind his walls.

Taking his hands in yours, you looked up at him. "I need you to mean it this time, Eddie. I need you to say it, and I need to believe it."

He took a shuddering breath, as if he were bracing himself for a leap off a cliff. "I love you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. But then, he said it again, stronger, as if he were willing the words to be true, to feel true, even if he didn’t think he deserved them. "I love you, alright? I love you more than I know how to say."

You closed your eyes, letting the words settle over you, feeling the warmth in his voice as he said them. There was still a part of you that wanted to guard your heart, to keep a piece of yourself protected in case he left again. But this was Eddie, and despite everything, you loved him enough to take that risk.

"Can I hear you tell me you love me again?" you whispered, your own voice trembling with the weight of the moment.

He let out a shaky laugh, pulling you closer, his forehead resting against yours. "I’ll say it as many times as you need," he murmured, his hands finally settling on your waist, holding you close as if he were afraid you’d vanish. "I love you. I’m yours, okay? If you’ll still have me."

You pressed a hand to his cheek, letting your fingers trace the line of his jaw. "I’ll always have you, Eddie. But don’t make me regret it."

And for the first time in a long time, as he wrapped his arms around you, you felt like you were where you belonged.

--

please don't forget to reblog if you enjoyed <3

[swrkn]

Your fluff with Oliver, I like it sooo much. Can you, please, do another one fluff with him 🌹 🖤

Calm night and quiet moment

Oliver x g/n reader

Genre ; fluff

Author note ; aww thank you so much <33 ofc i’ll do another one for him :) this one is quite short because i’ll post another one in a day or two ;)

The night was calm, the kind of quiet that only came after a long day. You and Oliver had decided to take a break from everything—school, training, and the endless chaos of life. He’d suggested a late-night bike ride to the hills, promising it’d be worth the trip.

Now, the two of you sat side by side on a soft patch of grass, your bikes leaning against a tree behind you. Above, the stars stretched endlessly, their soft glow painting the sky in delicate constellations.

Oliver lay back, his hands folded behind his head, a rare, peaceful expression on his face. “Told you it’d be worth it,” he said, his voice low but tinged with satisfaction.

You smiled, glancing over at him. “Yeah, you were right. This view’s incredible.”

For a while, neither of you spoke, content to let the silence wrap around you like a warm blanket. The cool breeze carried the faint scent of wildflowers, and the only sound was the soft rustling of leaves in the wind.

Then, out of nowhere, Oliver let out a quiet chuckle.

“What?” you asked, curious.

He turned his head to look at you, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You’ve got grass in your hair.”

You blinked. “I do?”

“Yeah, hold still,” he said, sitting up. His hand reached out, gently plucking a small blade of grass from your hair.

For a moment, his fingers lingered near your temple, and his usual smirk softened into something more genuine. “There. Got it.”

You felt your face warm, but you managed to keep your tone light. “Guess I’m not as graceful as I thought.”

Oliver laughed softly, leaning back again. “You’re fine. I mean, I’ve seen you trip over flat ground before, so…”

“Hey!” you protested, playfully swatting at his arm.

He dodged easily, his laughter filling the quiet night. “Relax, I’m just saying it’s part of your charm.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Sure, Olivet. Whatever you say.”

The conversation drifted from one topic to another—favorite childhood memories, funny stories about Clover, and dreams for the future. It was easy, natural, and before you knew it, hours had passed.

Eventually, you both fell into another comfortable silence, staring up at the stars.

“You know,” Oliver said quietly, his voice almost lost in the breeze, “it’s nice, just… being here. No pressure, no expectations. Just us.”

You turned to look at him, surprised by the softness in his tone. “Yeah,” you agreed. “It’s nice to slow down once in a while.”

Oliver gave a small nod, his eyes reflecting the starlight. “Thanks for coming out tonight.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you said. “You always know how to make things better.”

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, as if searching for the right words. Then, with a small smile, he said, “You’re my girlfriend aren’t you?”

You smiled back, your heart feeling a little lighter. “Right.”

The night stretched on, and neither of you felt the need to leave just yet. Under the blanket of stars, with the world quietly spinning around you, everything felt exactly as it should be.

✵

[thestrangestthlng]

I’m heartbroken. I’m angry.

But I’m not going away, not entirely. Once I’m in a better headspace, I’ll write up my feelings and emotions, but for right now I’m just going to be sad and figure out how to break the hyperfixation, so that I can enjoy the show again.

But let’s get one thing straight and two things gay, this is a Lou Ferrigno, Jr. fan account. This show and the rabid ass bobs had me fall in love with that beautiful silly man, and I look forward to all the things to come.

This goes without saying but if you at me or reblog this shit with any negativity gloating about the breakup, I’m blocking you. I’ve always said I’d be okay with a breakup, because I am a Buck Stan. We are allowed to be upset at the shitty way it was done.

[vagueandominousvibes]

Saw your tags and YES OFC. I love your art style, and im honored you made the choice to follow me. I was SHOCKED

Thank you!!! I really love the ideas you’re playing with and I’m looking forward to seeing where you take them!

Regarding my own ideas … y’know how I said I’ve already got a number of Four Swords AUs projects to complete and that this would be something to get around to eventually? Well, my brain decided to ignore all of those:

For those not in the know, demon-nayra shared an awesome idea earlier this week that essentially boils down to Vio, Red, and Blue being directly tied to the Four Sword and being the same characters in both Four Swords games (this is demon-nayra’s original post about it). My brain grabbed the idea with both hands and ran head-first into another AU, which I’m going to call “Goddesses AU”.

In the Goddess AU, Green is Link, Hylia’s chosen hero. Vio, Red, and Blue’s spirits have been tied to the Four Sword by the Golden Three, so when the Four Sword is drawn, they’re released to assist Hylia’s chosen hero. Each of them is tied to one of the Golden Goddesses: Vio to Farore; Red to Din; and Blue to Nayru (I recognise the irony of Blue being tied to the Goddess of Wisdom, but I think it’s really, really funny). Whether they were created by the Goddesses or whether they were regular Hylians once is unknown—all they know is that when they defeat Vaati for good, they’ll be released to live out the rest of their lives like regular Hylians.

Back during FS (as opposed to FSA), they assumed they would be released once this particular adventure was completed, and were making preparations accordingly—Vio was setting up to study and research, while Red got engaged. Blue didn’t have any particular plans, but would have been happy to travel. An amount of their character development happens during this adventure. At the end, however, instead of being released, they were locked back into the Four Sword again.

When FSA occurs, they’ve been locked in the Four Sword for centuries, but for them it’s only been the blink of an eye. They emerge, and at first they mistake the new hero for the previous Green. Then they realise what’s happened. Red especially is deeply distraught���not at anyone in particular, but grieves losing a person he loved and had prepared to spend the rest of his life with. Vio and Blue both get a bit protective of him, in their own ways: Vio tries to distract him, while Blue tries to fend off anyone or anything that might hurt him further (physically AND emotionally) and argues with the Goddesses. The new hero (who gains the name Green) has no idea what’s going on and tries to get everyone to focus on the task at hand.

Idk how much of this I’ll write, but I had a lot of fun redesigning the characters! (Not convinced by Vio though …) Regarding the designs, I drew inspiration from Din and Nayru in the Oracle games for Red and Blue. I really like the parallel of the Goddesses having stand-ins in at least two of the timelines, so using concepts and symbols from Din and Nayru’s designs felt like a good approach. I’m also very tempted to say that Red’s a good dancer and that Blue plays the harp (when nobody is listening, of course).

[that-was-tedious]

I have had a minute to process. And I will say I was right about two things, one that Tommy was engaged to Abby once upon a time and that being the thing to break them up, and two that Buck would go straight to Eddie after he and Tommy broke up.

Now for the things I did not expect and the thoughts I had on them:

Josh saying that Buck lives in a post Glee world. Now, Josh DID have a point. But if the timeline of the show is the timeline of when it aired, Abby and Tommy would have been engaged from like 2015-2017. Glee ENDED in 2015. So. This doesn’t super work here? I get what he’s saying and it’s definitely true but the logic could have been better.

Eddie saying he’s straight. Yes, this can be thought of like the writers saying OKAY WE GET IT BUT NO. But I’m not so sure that’s what’s going on here? We will come back to this so put a pin in it for now.

Tommy breaking up with Buck BLINDSIDED me. It makes sense, in the long run. Tommy is afraid of Buck not loving him long term because he’s “the first” and the tears were wholly unexpected. But narratively, Buck has been the one that’s been broken up with. Left behind, so to say. Tommy is protecting himself (and that’s okay! I get it, weird choice but sure) but he’s hurting them both in the process. Put a pin in this as well.

Okay back to Eddie. The well/drainpipe didn’t go how anyone expected, but I think that’s for a reason. Has anyone else noticed we’re seeing Eddie’s Greatest Hits here? The couple fighting, the divorcing couple, the kid in the well, and next week the guy on hotshots stuck on the ladder like Buck after the lightning? The only things we skipped over were Shannon dying and the tsunami, and I really don’t think we’re going one for one here. But we’re bringing up a lot of his old traumas so maybe he’ll reflect on that???

Then we have the mustache shaving scene. Did ANYONE expect that? No? Good, me neither. I didn’t hate it? I liked the idea of an emotional thing, but I’ll take Ryan Guzman dancing to Old Time Rock and Roll in no pants. (Also going to answer the door like that? Slutty as hell, 10/10).

I did expect Buck to show up, because (remember the pin I told you to put in place? Here’s where the come up again), in the end it’s always going to Buck and Eddie choosing each other. Is it romantic? Idk maybe. I know I’d like it to be, but at the end of the day it doesn’t matter if it’s not. They’re each others ride or die, Eddie doesn’t question that Buck is there, he just takes the beer and shrugs because he has his back. They’re going to choose each other because it’s a safe space for both of them, someone who chose them. Eddie and Buck chose each other, neither of them have left like so many before, and they’re going to stick together and it always comes back to the two of them. Again, it might not end up romantic, but they’re still it for each other in a huge way. (I’m BEGGING for canon Buddie tho.)

I’m not convinced we’ve seen the last of Tommy, but then again maybe we have? Maybe he’s served a purpose in Buck’s narrative? Also to all of the bucktommy’s predicting it was Buck asking Tommy to move in….congratulations on being right and I’m sorry that’s how it went down. (Side note to anyone still reading that’s been in normal relationships, is six months too soon to move in? Especially because it doesn’t seem like they’ve said I love you’s yet? Please advise I’ve only been in unhinged relationships.)

Anyway all of this is a long winded way to say that I don’t think we can count Buddie out, as they’re each others safe space, but we’ll see as time goes on. I’ll settle for gay Eddie and a platonic shaped relationship between the two of them.

PS: Abby how are you still messing with Bucks life? STOP IT.

xoxo

Gossip Girl

[ineffable-xenanigans]

I’ve said once and I’ll say it again: Good Omens is the show of my life 🥰

people: do you have a crush? me: yes me (pulls out good omens): on this show.

[noodles-and-tea]

I feel like Jon is a bit of a rebound…

[jenijro]

Sam had sex. Now he is gone, probably traveling interdimentionally, with the Archivist. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS IF YOU HAVE SEX IN THE MAGNUS UNIVERSE-

[bunnyrafe]

ok the talk of rafe taking care of drunk reader makes me think…what if it’s reversed? u and rafe go out and he gets a little too drunk and it’s like a complete personality shift where he becomes so soft and sweet and just a side of him u never get to see! idk could be cute having to wrangle him for once

“wrangle him” is absolutely the correct way to put it.

please… he’s big ‘n tall and all over the place, giving you beer and whiskey flavored kisses every 5 seconds. he’s like an over excited puppy with attachment issues who can’t let go of you! he needs you in his lap, by his side, holding his hand. just everything— he needs everything.

“you know i love you s’much; right, princess?” the words are slurred and murmured right in your ear, and his lips find your neck shortly after. pressing soft kisses along your skin that make your heart flutter and nearly burst out of your chest.

“i know, rafey…” you whisper back while biting away a cheeky smile.

“and you’re so pretty!” he continues on, “how are you s’pretty? prettiest girl ever— my favorite girl.”

“better be your favorite,” you tease while pinching his warm, alcohol flushed cheeks. his bottom lip is jutted out in a pout and you can’t help but lean forward and kiss him. a quick smooch that he hums happily in response too.

“i don’t even— don’t even hold the door open for other girls,” he squints at you a bit as he speaks, as if it makes him look any more sincere and not completely goofy.

“rafey, that’s kinda mean.”

he scoffs, “so?”

[k4marina]

translation:

“i don’t care that noah is a zionist that had made fun of palestinians dying in a genocide that israel is creating.”

he’s a piss poor actor and a shit person.

quit acting like he’s some victim he isn’t. he’s one of the most privileged people. HE chose to stand with the people committing a genocide and now he’s facing the consequences of it.

and for the record zionism is colonialism. it’s a european concept of stealing other peoples land and destroying their homes for themselves like manifest destiny.

zionists are already making illegal settlements in northern gaza (palestine) after the idf has destroyed everything in its path by carpet bombing the area. zionists are illegals buying land in the west bank here in the states and are trying to push palestinians out of their homes there too. on christmas day, bethlehem, the birthplace of jesus (which is located in the west bank, palestine) was bombed.

there is nothing wrong with being jewish. but it is wrong if you’re a zionist.

get your fucking heads out of your asses and open your eyes to the genocide that’s happening.

I’m so fucking tired of seeing a part of the fandom acting like hating Noah Schnapp is acceptable, let alone the right thing to do; or saying that they still ship Byler because they “separate the actor from the character” (there’s nothing to separate because Noah has done nothing wrong). I’ve even seem some “defending” him by saying that he’s uneducated, or brainwashed, or he doesn’t know better, which is about 50 shades of offensive.

He’s a Jewish guy who likes the fact that Israel (a.k.a. the one safe haven for Jewish people, a historically persecuted minority under constant and current threat of genocide, in a land that they have historically inhabited) exists. That doesn’t make him uneducated, or brainwashed, or wrong, and least of all evil or deserving of hate.

Having a different opinion from Noah is fine, we all have different opinions about things and if we dig deep enough we’ll find we disagree on fundamental topics with everyone else. Thinking that hating Noah for his Jewishness (because that’s what this is really about, “Zionism is not Antisemitism” my ass) is the right thing is a psychopath take, no matter how “edgy” you think you are.

[glimmerbolan]

hey so have we all seen the full version of this picture yet. are we seeing this

[ofwraithsandwords]

Giver of the Fruit

Art by @ydteus

[artdcnaldson]

thinking of polycule au daddy art on this day!! calling patrick daddy while he’s fucking you just on instinct and art getting all upset. gotta show him that patrick is daddy only when his dicks inside her but he’ll never be DADDY it’ll never hold the same weight as it is with art :(

Ohhhghhhhh

It just feels so good, you’re a little fuzzy in your head and you’re drooling onto the bedsheets and your eyes are rolling back and Art’s stumbled upon the two of you in your room, fucking on your bed so hard the bedframe is creaking alarmingly loud. He doesn’t want to be left out, he doesn’t like feeling like he’s not needed.

Patrick’s so smug, fucking into you, talking you through it. All, “this little pussy’s so tight” and, “that’s it, fuck yourself back on it, so desperate for this big dick, huh?,” and “fuckin’ soak me, that’s it.”

And he’s used to that. But then Patrick grabs a fistful of your hair, tugs your head up. “Who’s making you feel this good, huh?” Slaps across your cheek, makes you moan. “Say it.”

And you moan, so pretty, so fucked. “You do, daddy.”

Oh. His jaw ticks. Patrick fucks you harder— hips slamming into you as he pummels you with his cock, burying himself inside of you again and again and again while you moan like a fucking pornstar.

Annoyance sits heavy in his chest as he walks past the room, goes and sulks on the couch and watches at whatever’s on TV mindlessly. It’s an hour before you come downstairs, freshly showered and blissed out.

“Hey,” you hum softly, curling up against his side. He knows you’ve showered, but he still convinces himself he can smell Patrick on you. “I didn’t hear you get home. I was gonna surprise you with dinner.”

Art huffs, picks at the couch. “Yeah? Sure you weren’t going to make it for daddy?” He meets your gaze and your brow furrows. “You call him that now?”

“He said he’d like it if I did, sometimes,” you say with a tiny frown. “Art… it’s totally different with him.”

He’s trying not to be petty, but he can’t help it. It just feels like he’s being phased out. You had him and used him for what you needed. But now Patrick’s here and Patrick is treating you completely different than Art does, and you love it so much that it feels like you’re just keeping Art around out of pity.

“It’s different with you, because I trust you enough to let you take care of me,” you say, moving to nose at his jaw. “You keep me satisfied, and happy, and spoiled, and I feel so loved when I’m with you. Not just when we’re fucking, but always.” You weave your fingers with his and kiss his pulse point sweetly. “I love you, Daddy. I’ll show you.”

When you sink to your knees, pull his hard cock from his jeans and let it sink into your mouth, he’s already forgotten why he was mad in the first place. And god, you know exactly how to make him melt.

[starqueensthings]

Main Masterlist

Tech in Season 2, Episode 10: The Retrieval

*click for best quality

ragu: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @sev-on-kamino @littlemissmanga @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @sunshinedaydream @clonemedickix @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana @moonlightwarriorqueen @starstofillmydream @mooncommlink @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @trixie2023 @clonethirstingisreal @rabbitstu99 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @mythical-illustrator

[wholesomepostarchive]

Hello My Freind 🌹

I want your support My house was destroyed and I am currently living in a tent with my children 😞

My Mom and Dad who suffer from chronic diseases, They need urgent medical care and medications that are not available 💔

https://www.gofundme.com/f/Help-Mohammed-alhabil-Family

Please help my family by donating or reblog my campaign is going very slowly 🙏🍉

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