#I'm not Jewish but everything I know from my Jewish friends tells me that screaming and raging at God is not only normal but expected

[likeabxrdinflight]

I'm gonna find a way to shoehorn Mary into this good omens fic if it kills me

[kazimirovich]

all i can say forever

i'm jewish. as a child i moved from a rural town where my family saw acts of rage and hate, emigrated from a country with a horrifying history with jews. you know the one, though there are many. i'm 31 now and i have seen and experienced antisemitism my whole life, in the many places i've lived, to varying degrees. not that i should need to qualify this before everything i have to say - but i know what that looks and feels like. in my life there have been times at which i have been in danger. i choose to stay out of danger in all the ways i was taught. (part of that is not moving into someone else's house uninvited (more in a sec))

(well-meaning?) people want me to have a relationship with israel. they are very invested in assuming i have some connection to this shifting space, this project. they associate my german jewishness with a place i have never been and never felt. home, for me, is the uncle i haven't seen in too long, the ailing brother of my mother, the same red nose. it's fresh sheets hung over dry summer grass, it's bavarian farmland, it's thick liptauer on pumpernickel bread warmed over the wood stove. it's my grandmother's dining room and rough fenceposts, borders we disrespected as kids. home is also here and there and where my family is, where my friends are, where i've built myself.

in a geopolitical sense, it is clear that the antisemitic position is to sequester jews into a partitioned state conceived of by non-jews after the sunset of our most recent attempted decimation. antisemitic, to tell jews "move here, be at home in this space of constant war. impose war on others. fight for a tenuous link to an ancestry you've never seen or studied." in a religious sense, sort of a key feature of judaism since the second exile is that - we're in exile. this is an orthodox argument, but i have to admit that rabbinical discourse is pretty convincing. the secular establishment of the israeli state in an attempt to accelerate any so-called redemption has left us at a point where i really don't know what hope we have for that to occur. if you believe in god, how can you believe they are looking down at us, impressed

because beyond theoretical or spiritual reasons, the bloodlust, the vengefulness, the racism, the violation of law (i know that laws are agreed upon, are broken all the time by those who grant themselves impunity), the evil of this continuance, the evil which grinds babies and text and memory, gnashes it all in its droning machinery, its cold horror and inhumane (unhuman) practice, seemingly perfected... it is obvious to anyone with a single thought that it is an ethnic cleansing. the forcible "movement" (murder) of people of one group from land people of another group want. is ethnic cleansing. we are watching it in real time, and the world stands by and in many cases, it endorses, it beats and imprisons those who are brave enough to stand up to it, it rewards cowardly men in war rooms who having read fukuyama and arendt and maybe even voegelin conveniently forget themselves, because they can afford to, and wave their hands and make calls and decimate entire families cities sovereignties. and liberalism - that fickle ideology whose sole search is for the justification of atrocity - sends its thoughts and prayers, and emphasizes how just horrible both sides are, and conveniently forgets the histories that have led each "side" to this. convenient.

and i can't do anything about it. i can perfectly articulate every well-thought-out argument, i can cry the most frustrated tears from the well of my chest and i can scream that this isn't right, because it isn't, but nobody fucking cares. those who matter have decided for those who don't.

if you align yourself with israel, or feel any sympathy toward the supposed plight of active settlers (not a neutral spot to be in, by the way - another rational argument), i hope you know how thoroughly you've been manipulated. how successful the project of those with the power to decide we don't matter has been. you and i don't matter. so-called free thinkers meme. you fucking idiot. you genocidal maniac.

not putting this under a cut. fuck you. read it all and remember my jewish name and keep it far out of your mouth the next time you tell someone why the people you've told me are my neighbors deserve a flattening.

[jewish-vents]

its so bad to the point that i cant talk to goyim anymore, i just cant trust them whatsoever. but my therapist is a goy and a few weeks ago i tried to say that i was scared to go to more punk shows because of rampant antisemitism and she basically said that i was just paranoid and that it doesnt matter anyways. so obviously i walked out. but since then i cant talk to her i cant forget about everything that goyim have done to break me these past few months and i cant trust her to talk even about normal stuff. i still go i just sit there in silence while she talks at me for an hour. last week she asked me if someone did something to make me shut down like this and i was just thinking "yeah, my friend was murdered in october and i lost all my irl friends after i saw them cheering on the people who murdered him and i get people telling me almost everyday that hitler shouldve finished the job" but i just stayed silent because i know she'll probably agree with them. when my mum woke me up to take me today i started crying and hyperventilating because im so scared. its really bad because i need her to help get on the diability benefit, i cant work because im disabled and i cant get the benefit alone because my disabilities stop me from going to the meetings and making the phone calls and my brother said im a waste of resources and contribute nothing to society and i cant leave my house because im scared i'll get killed for being jewish

I'm sorry but your therapist sounds like a crappy therapist. It sucks that you need her. You're not a waste of resources and you can contribute to society, but one way or another you have inherent worth that is completely independent from what you can give others. And you have experienced quite a significant bit of trauma, and maybe more things you haven't even mentioned here. You're allowed to feel sad and upset and even angry.

When you need it, you can always come here scream and cry and talk and whatever you want (within the rules, of course). We're not going to judge you and you don't even need to make sense. Just let it out.

Best of luck and I hope it gets better for you

[faeriekit]

Hiya! For your WIP tag game, I’d love to see 1,2 and/or 8! Love me some dp crossover right now 😍

Tall order! Let me see:

(Drake Manor)

“Oh,” Robin greets, a little of his exuberance…muted. Tim pouts. Danny ruins everything. “I didn’t know you were coming, or else I would have brought another gift! Danny, right? How have you been?” 

Danny rolls his eyes, but comes over to the door. In the same way Robin’s dressed down for the holiday, Danny’s dressed up; instead of his usual tee and hoodie combination, he has on a real sweater on over his jeans. For whatever reason, it has little green ghosts knitted into the repeating pattern. 

“You don’t have to bring anything for me. I’m not even Jewish,” Danny points out. “As long as the squirt gets something, I think you win. Welcome back; I hope you like somewhat burnt brisket. I think his mom got a little too enthusiastic with the oven.” 

“Your disrespect is audible and unwelcome!” Mom calls from somewhere else in the house. Tim isn’t exactly sure where. 

Robin’s face does something where he can’t tell if he thinks the scenario is really funny or super weird. “Joining for the holidays?” 

“Beats watching my Mom and Dad get into a no-holds-barred screaming match about whether or not Santa Claus is real or not,” Danny grumbles, peeved. And then, realizing: “Oh, Tim. Jazz says hi.” 

Oh, that’s nice. Tim hasn’t talked to her since she and Mom got into an argument about whether Tim ‘needed’ a therapist or not. Tim isn’t sure why. He’s pretty sure he’s fine.

2. untitled WIP that I genuinely haven't thought of a working name of yet

“Your you,” the kid continued proudly, pleased beyond measure. “I ate your piece!” 

Tim takes a deep breath. The deep breath will not prevent him from losing his shit, but it will help. 

Okay. A very small child ate his spleen. He will be so normal about that. He will be normal about that if it kills him. 

“Can you explain,” Tim asks, in a tone that’s not not the voice of exaggerated patience Janet Drake used to use on investors who crossed her, “Why you ate my spleen?” 

“It mine now! And now no more…no more new people,” the kid continues, wiping his face on Tim’s former blanket cape. It’s probably a self soothing gesture. It mostly looks like the kid is trying to clean his face off, which is gross. “‘Cause…tube babies. No new babies.” 

…And the solution was somehow eating an internal organ, Tim guessed, failing to understand the logic. But. He had some pretty good guesses about Ra’s favor of him meant when tacked onto this new mention of tube babies. Considering that Damian had been a former occupant of an artificial womb, and Ra’s’d had access to Tim’s genetic material…

“What did it taste like?” Tim dared to ask, having run out of other questions to occupy the boy with. 

“Bad!” Danny chirped. 

Great.

3. At the time you asked this I'm pretty sure it was already Superboy instead of Demon!AU? Anyway, here's some future Blister Pack fic:

Conner hums, pleased. “You’d eat more.”

Is he blushing?? Tim better not be blushing. He’s not thinking about—he’s not thinking about how Conner wants him to eat more. How that means Conner’s been thinking about how much Tim eats. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s just…observational. That he pays attention, when they’re huddled up on Tim’s bed working to enable mass data destruction and corporate warfare.

It’s fine!! It’s so normal. They’re friends, even, apparently! Friends do that! Tim should not be blushing.

“If you were a villain?” Conner asks, and it takes a second for Tim to figure out where they were in a line of conversation.

“Oh!” Tim realizes. “Kon didn’t tell you that? I have, like, a whole future evil timeline and everything. There’s a gun, we take over the world—it’s, like, a whole deal. I had to defeat myself to save the wo—you know what? It’s not important. It was just. Bad.”

Conner looks at him. His head tilts, as if he could get a better measure of him if he just changed the angle. “Hm,” is all he says, blue-green eyes focused.

It is not a disapproving hm. If anything, it sounds…

Tim is going to die of blood loss if all of the hemoglobin in his body keeps shifting up into his face. “Anyway!” he cuts the conversation off brightly. Since we’re not planning corporate sabotage anymore, want to try a movie? You, me, some corn nuts?”

Conner nods. The small smile on his face makes Tim’s stomach flip-flop with emotions he is not going to name.

“Sure.”

[rahleeyah]

Yesterday was the anniversary of the accident that ultimately killed my mom. It's been four years, and it's not that the grief has lessened so much as it is that it has become familiar. It is so familiar it is no longer remarkable. It no longer has the same destructive power; I know it, now, and I am gentle with it, and it is gentle with me. I miss her, always. There are so many things I want to tell her, and every time I do the dishes I think of her, and wish for a moment that she was beside me again, that I could hear her laugh. But it is a tender wishing, not an angry one. I still get angry, sometimes - most often when I see people out driving, on their phones, distracted and making dangerous choices, and I want to scream at them, I want to tell them that someone just like them, someone arrogant and selfish enough to think they were above consequences, took my mother from me. Stole my father's wife. Took her life, her future, her dreams, bc he wanted to look at his phone. I do still get angry. I think I always will.

But I remember her always with love. I have never met anyone who loved as big as she did. She laughed hard and lived with joy, pursued the things she cared about and filled her life with love. She was my friend. That means so much to me to be able to say that, to know what a gift that is.

Yesterday I was searching my email for something, and I never delete anything, and I stumbled across a chain of emails we sent to each other a few days before the accident. We often emailed during the work day bc we both had office jobs, and we'd shoot messages back and forth instead of calling. She was filling me in on the gossip back home, and complaining about the lackluster Superbowl commercials, and asking about my nose ring, since I'd just gotten it pierced. There were a couple of emails back and forth between us that day, just talking. It didn't hurt, reading them. It was nice to see them, to read her words, to have a tangible piece of her and our relationship years later. To read it and hear her voice in my head, to remember her sense of humor. There are so many messages like that, and I'm grateful to have that still, to have her words, her encouragement, to carry her with me in my pocket everywhere I go. What a gift.

I miss her, always. I wish she could have met 🐝, I think she'd like her. I know she'd be happy I have someone; she always worried about me, a little bit, didn't want me to be on my own. She was proud of me and the life I'd built and she wasn't one of those mothers who insists that all their children have to get married and have babies, she just wanted me to be loved. She'd be excited about the house. I'd call her and we'd talk about all my plans. She'd want to come out and help with the move. She'd have all kinds of opinions about where to put the furniture and she'd be right about all of it. She was always right about everything.

It's a wistful sort of feeling, this year. Regret, maybe, for all the things she missed, all the things she didn't get to do, all the things I didn't get to share with her. But there is joy still, and love, and gratitude for all the things we did get to have.

Our Jewish friends say "may their memory be a blessing." I think that is such a beautiful perspective on loss, and so true in this case. Having known her, that was a blessing. These memories of her I carry, they are a blessing. She was a blessing, to everyone she met.

[maylarula]

When I got pregnant the first time, it was terrifying. The father died 3 months in, and honestly I feel like if the midwives hadn't done their Centering Group (ended up being three single women AND THEIR MOMS), I wouldn't have made it through. But they had a book, and they told us even the book can be wrong, so tell us. And yeah, I was traumatized and lost and I don't remember most of it. But the midwives did, and they remembered in my second pregnancy when I was less numb and disassociated and they LISTENED. Fund yourself a midwife. Mine were in a hospital, and I wasn't fond if any of that. The night nurse refused to give me formula and scolded me for asking for a pacifier while my newborn daughter screamed and screamed. I had nothing else to give her, and they refused to give me formula. The midwife who showed up the next morning was FURIOUS for me. I had hardly shown any emotion at all through an entire pregnancy, and she knew it. Find yourself a doctor who listens to you, and answers your questions and gives you frickin homework so you know what you're getting into. And if your Dr isn't doing that? Go to a different one. I don't care if your sister and your cousins and your mom went to that Dr, find one for you. Not one who doesn't give a single shit about the mother, find one that will prioritize what you want. Both of my children got stuck, literally stuck between bones, and the first midwife was entirely unprepared, and somehow managed to pull her out with no damage to her and mild hip aphasia for me. My son was bigger, and this midwife (there's 4, whoever's there delivers), she said "that's not how I would do it, but clearly it was the way to go" and had NICU and the OB there from the start. I didn't know, even the second time, what Sciatica could do. I didn't know, and I'd already done it once. I didn't plan either one, I didn't do research. I just procrastinated everything because I have anxiety and a completely irrational fear of authority figures. And yet. I survived because of the midwives, and so did my children. I begged them, every time, to schedule a section. Please, get this enormous creature out of me. I am small. He is almost 10 pounds. Please. And you know what they said? No. And I'm so, so happy. I didn't know what I was asking for. They never told me.

I did ask for a tubal, and they never questioned it. You don't want to be pregnant again? Cool, yeet it out. That's the other thing. I can spend $14,000 or so and have another kid, but I DON'T WANT TO. And that is MY choice.

Also, can we talk about circumcision? I had no idea, when my son's father insisted on it, what that actually was. Didn't know it was entirely cosmetic (I am not Jewish), and apparently has no medical benefits? "I don't want my son to look different from all his friends" is not a good enough reason to permanently change an infant's body when they can't consent. Do what you will, but I regret it. He's fine, but. I honestly feel really guilty about it.

the thing is like. i get that it's scary and makes people who do desire to get pregnant uncomfortable when we talk about the brutality and violence of pregnancy and the damage that pregnancy can do to your body

but you deserve to give informed consent to that process.

the lies around pregnancy - that it's inherently safe, that it doesn't do you permanent damage, that it's only extremely rare for people to die of pregnancy complications, etc like

all of these are lies constructed so that more people will get pregnant w/o knowing all that

there needs to be more talk about the impact of miscarriages and how common they are, how different abortion processes are and how accessible they are

but also like. talking about how pregnancy fucks your body up should not be taboo

this is a process that permanently changes most people's bodies, and that's even if the pregnancy doesn't do them like. severe illness or injury

and i just think everybody should have a right to KNOW that

bc to live in a society that intentionally obscures and hides facts about a completely optional and dangerous process does so for a reason, and that reason is based in a very sinister ideology that does not value bodily autonomy or informed consent

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

I'm honestly surprised he hasn't blocked you. I never interacted with him and he has me blocked. Anyway, this is just secondhand since I never knew him before his anarchist LARP brainrot started, he used to be a lot more reasonable. He was in the same friend group as Nunya, Cyan, and Wendi among others but around 2020 and covid he completely lost his mind and threw his lot in with the crazy anarchist types. He's also ban-evading constantly, this year alone he's gone through like 3 blogs.

I believe that. Then again I really don't care he can be a lunatic all he wants to it's just funny because at this point I can't tell if he's an anarcho communist which is an oxymoron or he's a legitimate Neo-Nazi who think Jewish people control the entire world and that the US worships Jewish people or Israel despite the fact that the only real interest that the US has in Israel is a Ally next to Iran.

I do not understand what his deal is and it was funny watching him call me a sex pest because I inferred that he got sexual gratification from getting the aspats that he gets in general from his anarchist buddies. Because why else would you go back to a post that was basically dead from a person who you clearly disagree with and re-blog it just to s*** on that person again knowing full well they were going to see it.

I'm sorry but that screams sexual gratification to me or sheer unadulterated boredom or both. All I know is that they are an ignoramus who literally labels everything Zionism and at this point and even from before it's been pretty clear that this person just hates Jews. They just believe that if they lie about it people will take them seriously. When I haven't been taking them seriously since their first post. Somebody needs to remake that book cover of everyone I don't like is Hitler and stylize it where it says everyone I don't like is a Zionist. Because in truth my understanding of what Zionism even is, is just the fact that Israel deserves to exist and they should have the right to self-determination. And everyone else is making it about some weird cult worship b*******.

[thedarkplume]

Hey, guys I hope everyone's day is going spectacular! As you all know, today is Chris Evans 40th birthday!! I wanted to do something special for such a special day. Thus, I have compiled a list of my absolute favorite stories written for Chris Evans's characters.

Be advised, however, some of these are dubious consent, non-con, daddy kink, spitting, squirting, oral m/f receiving, creampie, anal, and all other manner of kinks I did not realize I enjoyed until joining the site.

It took me a very long time to compile this list and I may have to do some for Sebastian Stan later since some people want to cancel him. But we're not going to talk about that right now.

Here is a list of some of my absolute favorite Chris Evans stories in no particular order.

Golden Boy (Dark!Steve Rogers) - @angrythingstarlight

What sets this one apart from the rest of her stories, is that there's a deep resentment from Steve to Bucky in the very beginning of their friendship.

What The King Has (Soft!Dark Steve Rogers) - @sincerelythedarkside

I just read this one this morning. This was sooo good guys!

Hidden Solace (Andy Barber) - @ozarkthedog

This was difficult. I kept thinking I'd pick Reparations or Cock Worship, but Andy being a little touch starved did it for me.

Burning Desire (Andy, Steve & Ransom as Triplets) - @sinner-as-saint

She really gives you the best of 3 worlds here!

Ticking Clock (Dark!Andy Barber) - @syntheticavenger

Another tough choice. Synth comes straight for your heart and vagina, and you'll love her for it!

Stealth (Steve Rogers) - @afriendlyblackhottie

I may have bitten off more than I can chew, guys! It's so hard picking just one because there's nothing she's written that I can say is not one of my favorites. I'm telling you, get some wine or your favorite drink (alcoholic or not), put your feet up, and enjoy this lovely lady's artistry!

Back Rooms (punk!Me from Playing It Cool) - @fineanddandy

Not only did she use the fabulous @nix-akimbo edit for this one, but she makes you question if loyalty to a friend is worth walking away from a guy that genuinely wants you.

A Different Kind of Love (Alpha!Andy & Beta!Jake) - @river-soul

Can you imagine having both Jake and Andy in an A/B/O world? Read this story and you won't have to imagine!

Wear Me Down (Ari Levinson) - @navybrat817

Her fight is commendable, but you can't fight fate!

The Valentine's Cock Up (Steve Rogers) - @drabblewithfrannybarnes

God, this makes me laugh just thinking about it!

Original Sin (Dark!Bryce Langley) - @stargazingfangirl18

This had to be my hardest pick yet. What can I say about this ridiculously talented author? She made me lust over Robert Pronge which I promise was not an easy feat. I went kicking and screaming, but I'm here. Honorable Mention to her latest series Necessary Arrangements & Devil's Advocate.

Good Little Wife (Soft!Dark!Mob!Andy Barber) - @donutloverxo

All of her stories have a sort of soft and gentle reader that the men trip over themselves to take care of. I love it!

Goodbye Again (Endgame!Steve Rogers & Avengers!Steve Rogers) - @sweetlyscared

I can go on all day about how much I love this story! The emotions, the love, the loss, gah!!! I'll never not reblog this story.

Snowed In (Ransom Drysdale) - @the-iceni-bitch

Another author who has me lusting over Robert Pronge! I love her Ransom stories, beginning with Snowed In, because while he's still an ass, his girl gives it back just as easily.

Renewing Vows (Dark!Steve Rogers) - @gotnofucks

Dibs is one of my favorite authors. She's one of the few authors on this site that when you read her stories, especially the dark ones, you feel the obsession and single-minded desire to possess you no matter the circumstances. I love how she incorporates her culture in some of her stories as well, particularly the Happily Ever After series. You know it's wrong, but seeing the Avengers in their desi apparel still makes me go, "aww! They really want to make her feel welcomed!" P.S. I really, really came close to choosing Murder at the Whorehouse!

Dark Assassin (Dark!Silverfox!Steve Rogers) - @kleohoneyao3

It took me forever to find this story again. I've always been attracted to older men, but Silverfox!Steve is the goat! My second favorite is Of the Earth.

Little Red series (Steve/Curtis/Andy/Ransom/Johnny) - @autumnrose40

This proud Omega always gives you the best C. Evans characters stories. And she's not afraid to push boundaries with different species(werewolves, mermen, octogods, etc). I'm always so happy to see she's posted something.

Creamsicle (Robert Pronge & Dark!Andy Barber) - @sapphirescrolls

I don't think I need to list Robert as dark, do I??? While she has a cornucopia of dark writings, this is my favorite!

I Have Questions (Steve Rogers) - @royallyprincesslilly

Accidentally dirty-talking Steve Rogers? Hell yeah!

Unhappily Married (Dark!Steve Rogers) - @cherienymphe

This is a wonderfully talented dark writer. I almost chose Twice Bitten several times because (1) she writes vampires the way they're meant to be written, and (2) Steve is so unapologetically hot and cold with the reader it makes me weep. But I do love kids (set in fiction only) and poor Nathan needs a real mother!

Hirsute (Werewolf!Andy Barber) - @avintagekiss24

Whew! This was tough. I literally love all her stories, particularly Blue Ocean Floor and her latest, 'with the weight of the world at the tips of my fingers.' There's a sleek elegance to her writing that is unmatched.

Let Me Teach You (Jake Jensen) - @vannybarber

Jake Jensen does not get enough love. Luckily, he's starting to come up. This writer gives him all the love and appreciation he deserves with this story.

Tell Me You Love Me (Steve Rogers) - @lotusss-flowerbomb

We all have pasts, but if you're going to let your co-workers get drunk around your girl, give her a heads up that you may or may not have hooked up with the gorgeous red-haired spy. Loved this so much!!

Mr. and Mrs. Ari Levinson Invite You to...the Worst Wedding. Ever. (Mob!Ari Levinson) - @caffiend-queen

I've never seen Ari written like this. He's wild and crazy and utterly addicted to his new little wife.

I loved everything about this wedding, especially the author letting us see the different Jewish wedding traditions. If you didn't love Ari before this story, you will after this story!

This was fun you guys! And it gives me a point of reference in case I once again lose some of the stories listed here.

As an added bonus, here are some of my favorite @nix-akimbo edits:

[lily-orchard-gossip-blog]

(Amphibia anon)

I'm used to Lily making fun of all the things I like, I mean she constantly shits on anime and the magical girl genre, which I love. Especially bad since she loves to call people who love anime "horny pedophile weebs", when I'm an asexual minor. But keep telling yourself that, Lily!

I just want to make clear that I love The Owl House. I really do, but I also do really think what I said. It is way more generic than Amphibia in every way, and it's very clear Lily is biased. I like The Ghost and Molly McGee, I'm one of those who agrees it doesn't need ab overarching plot when it's already forned an identity. But with how much Lily shits on a show I like more than those two, and constantly lifts up those two, I'm starting to not like them as much. Obviously I still love them, but it's annoying. Lily loves to act as if what she thinks is objective, and her saying that TOH and TGAMM are objectively better than Amphibia, even though one of them is the exact model of shows she's complaining about- it's frustrating. Lily is so clearly biased in every way, but she manages to somehow convince her audience that she isn't and is just talking objectively.

Fun fact: when I watched Lily, I adopted her mindset that YouTubers don't need to state it's their opinion. But after I quit subscribing and left her content, I actually liked YouTubers who said it's their opinion more. Because after all that time of being told that what I like is objectively bad- it's comforting to have someone reassure that I'm not a bad person for liking a cartoon or a genre or a song. This happened with so much too, I adopted her attitude on the word queer. Then I stopped watching her, and watched people give actual resources on the word. And I realized that I'm queer. I adopted her attitude on LGBT representation... Before I lived and talked and made content with my LGBT friends and realized that actually, we can do whatever we want with our queer characters. I even adopted more dangerous ideologies like her dismissal of Jewish Culture, although that ended quickly. In fact, though, what got me to quit her content was the video on the Prince of Egypt. She talked about Jewish Culture, MY CULTURE, like she knew everything about it. She talked from such an obviously not Jewish perspective that I wanted to scream, but I knew she's lash out- so I left. She doesn't care about me. And I've been much healthier since then, and allowed myself to finally enjoy what I enjoy, without feeling judged.

Also, as a final note to Lily— you care about what kids think about cartoons, right? Well, take it from me, my sister, and our friends— actual children: we love Amphibia. It's a show I know so many kids love. Do you know how many kids even younger than me got excited for Amphibia's return, and how much more in my own community rejoiced that it was getting a Hebrew dub? Kids love these shows. We love the others too. So how about you listen to actual kids for a change

It just goes to show you how trying to drag a show down to try to lift another one up can in fact devalue both properties.

But unfortunatly, despite Lily's claims to the contrary, I don't think she cares about what kids think, I think she's just using that as a shield to protect herself.

[anellope]

What about R + E with Eddie for the alphabet prompts? 1. I'm a sap 2. I think the two prompts fit togheter Grazie in anticipo, nel caso❤️🍒

Ahhh scusa il ritardo, ho avuto un periodo di blocco assurdo e ne sto uscendo a fatica, spero per lo meno che la storia ti piaccia!!

I’m sorry it's a little long, the fucking “more under the cut” doesn't work this lovely night.

''Richard Tozier, I told you to turn down the music!"

"Can't be done, Eds, they are The Apostles! Not listening to them on full volume is an act against nature!"

"You are the act against nature!"

"That doesn't even make sense!"

Stan couldn't stand it anymore and finally turned off the radio, dropping silence between the two quarrels.

"I drive, I decide the music." he stated, still looking at the road "And my favorite song is composed of 7 minutes of absolute silence. So both of you shut the fuck up."

Richie let himself fell down into his seat, bittered “Only Queen can have a 7 minute long song and look cool."

"Plus the car is not yours, it's your father's old one, and he lent it to you ‘cause Bev is the only female in the group and he’s happy we still wanna see her even if she lives 1 hour distant from us." Eddie commented from the back seat, lacing his arms to his chest.

"Mr. Uris fears I can attack you The Homo." Richie muttered, frowning, bringing his arms behind his head. Eddie, who wasn't out to the city against his own will like him, laid a hand on his shoulder, comforting and making him smile sweetly.

"Fucking whatever, guys. The 7 minutes haven't passed yet." Stan snorted, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the road and not lift them to the sky.

"These are the worst 7 minutes in heaven of histo-" the raven boy began to say when the car stopped abruptly.

"Oh Jesus Fucking Christ." Stan commented, his eyes wide with terror.

"Can you tell that, being Jewish?"

"Beep beep, Richie!"

"Why, I did everything right!" Stan complained, putting his hands in his hair. He tried to start it again by turning the keys, but the car, after a few terrifying mumbles, stopped again.

"Is this smell of burning?" Richie asked, looking at Eddie for confirmation, who in fact advised the other not to try again before he broke the car. Stan was about to scream. 

"I'm screwed, dead, my father will chop me when we get back. IF we come back since the fucking car doesn't start and we're stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere!"

Then, after some last scary sounds, Stan suddenly straightened up, observing Richie in the face as if awakened.

"Your father took you on a fast course, didn't he? One of those father and son things, right? "

Richie shrugged "Dude, I wasn't even paying attention most of the time, and this car is older than Eddie’s mom! I don't even know where the engine is!" He said, denying with his head.

"In the hood, retard." Eddie commented before Richie threw him an angry slap on his head, Eddie did the same.

Stan, on the other hand, was desperate "Please, try to take a look, you're the only one here who has a minimum of experience, please Rich..."

Richie looked at him for a few seconds, then sighed "I'll try, dude, but really, I wouldn't want to mess that thing more, I know how your father is." And, without another word, he opened the door, lifting the hood of the car, closely followed by Stan, who looked more and more like a little lost dog. Eddie instead headed for the trunk.

"Well?" Asked the Jew, hopefully.

"Well..." Richie commented, observing what was in front of him "The smell of burning comes from here... and... Uhm... I am pretty sure that this is the engine."

“So?“ he tried again, Richie looked at him with a silly smile “So we’re screwed.”

After a moment of silence, Stan put his hand to his face "I'm dead meat."

"It’s the radiator." Eddie said, approaching them and rummaging in his backpack.

"What?" Richie asked, watching the other boy open his canteen and approach the hood of the car.

Under the bewildered eyes of both of them, Eddie poured half of the canteen into one of the many tubes, Stan squeaked scared, leaping to stop him "Eddie what are you doing!?" 

Eddie looked at him in confusion "It's an old car. Sometimes old cars need water in the radiator and I know this is the case for the burning smell that it started to make when you started the engine again.” He finished, closing his canteen and crouching on the ground for put it back in his backpack.

Then he raised his nose to the other two, standing up to watch him "Well? Someone with a driver's license wants to go and turn it on or not?”

Stan ran towards the steering wheel as fast as he could, turning the keys and rejoicing when he saw that the car was starting “Thanks fuck!"

"Dude!" Richie exploded, with an adoring expression on his face, taking him by the shoulders “My boyfriend is a fucking mechanic! So good, so good!” He sang, leaving him a quick kiss on the cheek; Eddie smiled victorious, blushing just for the compliments he received.

"But how did you know?" Stan asked him, a broad smile on his face making it bright. Eddie shrugged his shoulders, still smiling proudly, sitting down and noting that Richie had followed him instead of going in the front like before "I like cars, I'm also subscribed to a magazine, but I get it from Bill, so my mom doesn't find out.”

Richie threw himself on him again, hugging him like a teddy bear and continuing to fill him with compliments while the two friends talked.

"A skilled mechanic, so smart!"

"He kicked my ass, he knows how to fix cars!"

"Even I didn't see that coming, luckily you were with us, dude." Stan commented, receiving a further embarrassed and proud smile in response.

"You’re so cool, Edieeeee"

"Beep beep, lovebird!"

"You're just jealous of my great, cute boyfriend, Stan the man!"

"I fucking hate you both, guys," Eddie commented, lovingly stroking Richie's hair.

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(ask if you want to be added!)

[jackednephi]

Queering Christ: a post where I'm just rambling out some Thoughts

Jesus had two moms AND two dads. So we can look at this a couple of ways

Polyamorous family in which Mary had two husbands considering God got her pregnant. A mixed family like the case of divorce where kids have four parents is also a valid way to look at that. But honestly? The way the Holy Family is looked at by all of Christianity? That's totally a polyamorous relationship

Mary, like all good Jewish women, prepared from an early age to be worthy to carry the savior. From what I understand of the Jewish faith, good Jewish women still do this as they don't see (accept?) Jesus as the Christ. They live a specific way and pray to be worthy to receive the savior. Mary would have done this and, as we know from the scriptures available, this is exactly what she did. Therefore, the angelic visit of "hey you down to clown with god himself, lord over all creation?" was no surprise in that way. Pleasant, overwhelming and positive? Yes. Fearful screaming like with the shepherds? Not so much

I don't presume to understand how God himself allowed a virgin birth. We can say sex was involved but I'm just not going there. Instead, I propose something I learned of a few years ago when I was still a biology major: Christ's chromosomes were xx

So there's an actual recorded phenomenon wherein a woman can become pregnant, barring the usual method. She gives birth to a girl because of self fertilization. I forget the specific particulars but it is an actual thing that happens. It's rare and, from what I understand, will always produce someone xx rather than xy. Intersex and whatnot aside, this would mean that Christ was a trans man

We can talk about miracles all day long if we so please. Christ could have miracled himself whatever body he wanted. I'm not here to speculate on that. What I CAN speculate on is the fact that Mary was told she'd have a son. Meaning she would be told to raise him as a son. Children are pretty much interchangeable before puberty when it comes to telling gender at a glance. Hell, it used to be common practice to put all babies, regardless of gender, in little dresses

It would have been an easy thing for Mary and Joseph to raise Christ as a boy/man from a young age, teaching him carpentry. This would have likely also been safer socially because of how women were viewed in the past. Then, right around the time the couple could have explained to Jesus that no he was a girl, he would have been plenty old enough to protest and insist he was a boy. And anyway, look at those robes everyone wore

Or just look at paintings. Aside from color differences, hair covering was slightly different as well, these were pretty unisex robes. It would be no thing for him to dress as male. Not to mention, I honestly cannot see any bulge around this woman's chest. So long as Jesus didn't have an enormous chest, he wouldn't have to miracle anything away at all

Look, even if he wasn't trans during his life, he most certainly was in the Garden of Gethsemane considering the suffering he endured there. We know he bled for not just every sin but for every possible experience we could have ever had. The pain of being rejected by queerphobic family, friends, and society. Period cramps, child birth, the pain of being told you will never have children, losing children, losing spouse(s), and so on. In those moments, even if God had performed THE miracle and Jesus wasn't a trans man, Christ knew everything all of us would ever face. Meaning, during that time if nowhere else, he was just as trans and other forms of queer as the rest if us

But the scientist in me loves to think he went his whole life as a trans man due to the self fertilization that is a thing. God created the rules of reality and we know He plays within those rules. Why would he make Mary's pregnancy any different?

This also brings up the issue of Holy Consent. Mary consented enthusiastically to carry Christ. But what of The Mother? As someone in a polyamorous arrangement, I can confidently say that all parties must consent at all times to everything, with some wiggle room. If my wife were to want to remove their birth control, all of us would have to be consulted since everyone would be coparenting. When I removed mine, all three spouses and my then girlfriend were consulted for the off chance (read: miracle) of my own pregnancy

Before any of us most immediately affected adds a new partner, we consult the other partners. It isn't a Huge Ordeal so much as a quick text of "I'm going to start dating Josh" and usually it's "hey congratulations!" There have been instances of "you already have # partners. Will you be able to handle another?" or "I'm not really comfortable with Josh because of [behavior]" in which case, things are discussed further before a decision is made

Bottom line, consent is a conversation that happens between all affected parties. Otherwise it's not healthy or polyamory but just cheating. And we know God doesn't Cheat. Which means, at some point, there was a Conversation. And not only did our Mother consent, she did so for every instance of miraculous birth, a couple of which happen in the bible itself. I can't remember names but there was this one woman who gave her son to the temple? Because she'd had a miraculous birth? Look, I know it's in there I'm just fuzzy on the specifics because I focus on (sarcasm) important stuff (sarcasm end) like kosher laws and Laban's sword. And now this rambly mess of a post

That means that Christ was the child of a polyamorous relationship, however that relationship was structured. This isn't even diving into the kings etc before Christ who had multiple wives and concubines. I mean. The tribes of Israel were the product of a multiple woman, polyamorous situation

Anyway, there's no neat conclusion or anything but I've been sitting on these thoughts for a couple of years now. Feel free to discuss

[leisurelypanda]

i'm so mean to bucky but i honestly just need something with shrunkyclunks and bucky being mugged and then getting protective care later from steve, i'm evil i know sorry haha

You want angst? Okay! >:D

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18376730

Being Captain America’s boyfriend was never guaranteed to be easy. Despite the fact that both the Avengers’ public relations team, Tony Stark’s personal team, and all of Bucky’s friends had all told him not to google himself after their relationship became public, Bucky hadn’t been able to resist the temptation. It was everything that he could have predicted and more.

There were strong supporters and vocal detractors. Some people thirst tweeted him, others thirst tweeted Steve (which wasn’t new), and some thirst tweeted both of them. That part was fine, if a little… invasive. Other people claimed that Steve could do better. Bucky ignored those, because honestly, who cared? Steve thought he was sexy (a fact that still made Bucky feel a little giddy) and that was all that mattered.

The main issue was the religious nuts who had a collective aneurysm, as though the fact that Captain America was fucking a guy was a personal attack. Steve ignored them, but he was a little more experienced ignoring such people. Bucky was honestly a bit worried. There had been more than one conservative speaker who claimed that Bucky was an agent of the Devil who had corrupted the moral symbol of America, and by extension, the entire country as a whole.

If it had been something normal and simple such as, “The gays cause floods, wildfires, and tornados,” that would’ve been fine. Those made Bucky chuckle. Claiming that he personally was a danger and threat and seeing people agree with it so easily was a little more disturbing.

After about a month of that, Bucky started a total social media blackout. They were right, it wasn’t worth the worry. Steve started training him in combat skills, too. “You never know when you’ll need to defend yourself,” he said. Bucky laughed it off more to deflect from the fact that he was actually kinda worried.

About a month into his social media blackout, Bucky was minding his own business while walking towards his apartment. The Tower was nice, but it wasn’t Brooklyn and Bucky really did like having his own space. It wasn’t anything fancy, but for a guy who was working on a cupcake shop, it was everything he needed it to be: comfortable, warm, and within his ability to pay.

Brooklyn was beautiful. The fact that Bucky had grown up there made him biased, but also right. He loved how it seemed both old and new. Steve sometimes talked about how it used to look like, what people used to do there. He’d drawn pictures of tall buildings that were piles of shacks more than anything connected by rows of laundry hung out over the streets to dry.

It was amazing, both from an artistic sense and from a historical one. Now, Brooklyn was a place full of youth and vigor. It seemed full of art and possibilities and sometimes Bucky caught Steve’s eyes glaze over, as if he was imagining what life might’ve been like in this Brooklyn instead of the one he grew up in. Maybe he would’ve had a future instead of bleak prospects and a weak body.

Bucky turned the corner and continued walking towards his apartment like he always did. As he passed by the alley between a bar and a pizza joint, he was grabbed from behind. His yell was muffled as he was slammed against the brick wall behind him. The back of his head throbbed in pain.

“What the? Who the hell are you?!” he demanded. It came out more as a groan than a yell like he’d hoped for.

“Are you Bucky Barnes?” one of them asked. There were three of them. They each wore black ski masks like some cheesy movie trope, but at the moment, Bucky was actually legitimately terrified.

“Who wants to know?” Bucky replied. They looked at each other before one of them checked his back pockets until they found his wallet.

“It’s him,” they reported.

“Well then, Bucky,” the first mugger said. “We’re here to save the soul of Captain America.”

An icy sliver of dread passed through Bucky’s stomach as he caught the sliver of a knife while someone else produced a gun. His brief amount of combat training with Steve kicked in and he bashed his head against the nose of the mugger who held him against the wall. Bucky grabbed the blade that the mugger dropped and dropped into a defensive posture.

They couldn’t have all brought knives like normal psychopaths, could they? Bucky thought.

He attacked and managed to disarm the second one before he decided to make a run for it rather than try to fight his way out. As he was making his getaway, though, he heard a shot followed by the sudden stabbing of a gunshot strike like lightning in his leg. He didn’t have time. He dashed into the bar. He went straight into the bar, his leg throbbing in protest with every step.

“Call an ambulance,” Bucky said through clenched teeth. The bartender nodded and picked up the phone. Bucky barely registered what he said as he tried desperately to keep pressure on a wound he couldn’t see. When the bartender was done, he came around the bar with a rag and a length of twine.

“They’re on their way,” he said. “Where is it?”

“Thigh,” Bucky breathed. “Back. Can’t see.”

The bartender rolled him over on his side and pressed the rag to the wound. Bucky cried out in pain as the bartender secured the cloth to his leg with quick and brutal precision.

“What’s your name, son?” the bartender asked. “I’m Steven Goldberg.”

“Bu-Bucky Barnes,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” the bartender said. “The ambulance will be here soon. Tell me about yourself.”

“I—I make cupcakes,” he said. “Barnes’ Artisanal Bakery.”

“You just make cupcakes at your bakery?” Steven asked. Bucky chuckled and shook his head.

“No, they’re just… my specialty,” he said. “Make bread, too. Lots of challah. Grandma’s recipe.”

“You Jewish?” Steven asked. Bucky nodded. ��Me, too. Great-grandma was saved by Captain America during the Holocaust. Named my granddad Steve after him. My ma named me after him.”

Bucky smiled. “He’s my… boyfriend,” Bucky said. “Ma was so proud… when she heard. Said it made up for… me eating bacon.”

Steven laughed at that. Bucky chuckled a bit at that, too. Then he closed his eyes. Steven shook him lightly.

“Stay with me, Bucky!” he said sternly. “Come on, tell me about your favorite cupcake recipe. How did you meet Steve Rogers?”

“Catered a… party… at the tower,” Bucky said. “Just tired…”

“Hey, hey, stay awake!” Steven said. He slapped Bucky’s face lightly. “The ambulance is almost here, gotta stay awake.”

Everything went dark.

Bucky heard people. He heard voices, but they were speaking like he was underwater or something. He couldn’t make anything out. Someone sounded stressed. It might’ve been Steve. He couldn’t tell. He wished they would be quiet. He was still so tired.

He became aware of some terrible, searing pain. It didn’t feel anything like the bullet. The bullet felt just fine in comparison to this, like he’d been hit with a stick. He felt like he was burning from the inside out. He might have screamed, maybe it was someone else. After a while, he passed out again.

When he next came to, he heard beeping by his bedside. He groaned softly and the next thing he knew, someone was holding his hand tightly.

“Buck?” someone said. It was Steve. Bucky grinned knowing that Steve was with him. “Come on, Bucky wake up for me, please.”

“Stevie,” Bucky replied. It was little more than a murmur. His voice was hoarse and his throat hurt like hell. It wasn’t a dream, then. He had screamed, but he didn’t know why.

“Oh, thank God,” Steve sighed with relief. “Can you open your eyes?”

Bucky slowly opened them. He looked up into a face that was both strange and familiar. It was Steve, his Steve, but he’d grown a beard at some point. That was weird. Steve never had facial hair. He definitely hadn’t had one the last time Bucky saw him. He looked amazing, though.

“Nice beard,” Bucky said. Steve grinned and laughed with relief. “Am I in a hospital?”

“Yeah, yeah you are,” Steve replied. He looked down with concern at Bucky’s face. “How… do you feel?”

Bucky thought for a moment. He felt… fine. Better than fine, actually. He wasn’t in any pain at all. After a gunshot wound, he figured he’d at least be a bit tender afterwards or have a lot of pain. Even his head felt clear, rather having than the dull throb and foggy senses that might have accompanied a concussion.

“What happened?” Bucky asked.

“You were attacked,” Steve said. His face was resolute, but Bucky could see the guilt and sadness underneath. The guy who called the ambulance said that he didn’t know who did it.

“I don’t, either,” Bucky said. “They just said they were trying to save your soul.”

Steve grimaced. “Anyway, after you were out of danger, you went into shock,” he said. “The doctors said that you had a mild concussion and you’d lost a lot of blood despite what Mr. Goldberg did.”

“He was named after ya, ya know,” Bucky said. “Said his great-grandma was saved by you during the Holocaust.”

“Really?” Steve said. “He didn’t say anything like that to me. I saved a lot of people from the camps whenever I found them.”

“Here I thought my folks were the only Jews who were crazy for ya,” Bucky said. “Clearly all of us love you. You should convert.”

Steve laughed at that. “Sure, Buck. I’ll get right on it,” he said. “Do you feel… strange, at all?”

Bucky frowned at him. “What do you mean, ‘strange’?” he asked.

Steve shrugged and Bucky could see his face blush a bit. “I don’t know… different,” he replied.

Bucky stared at him. “I have an inexplicable urge to run a marathon,” he said. “Does that count as strange?”

“Uh, it might.”

“Steve,” Bucky said sternly. “What did you do?”

Steve looked down sheepishly. “You lost a lot of blood,” Steve replied. “The paramedics didn’t have enough of your blood type, AB negative. Said it was pretty rare. I… offered mine. I apparently have the universal donor or something.”

Bucky blinked. “Okay,” he said. “What does that have to do with me feeling weirdly energetic?”

Steve ducked his head. “The… docs think that I might’ve passed on the serum to you.”

It took a minute for that little tidbit to seep in. Bucky smiled slowly, then all at once.

“They do?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “The surgery to get the bullet out was just a few hours ago. They had difficulty keeping you sedated because of the change, actually.”

“How much blood did you give me?” Bucky asked.

“Enough, apparently,” Steve said sheepishly. “They want to monitor you, see if I really did pass everything on.”

“Fuck that!” Bucky cried. He took out the IV and jumped to his feet. He looked down at his body. What had once been skinny arms on a broad frame was now lined with thick muscle. The next thing he did was lift up his hospital gown and check his dick. He barely recognized it. His flaccid length was about as long as he’d used to be while hard. “Damn, look at that! Holy shit!”

“Buck, please, we’re in public,” Steve said with a blush.

“We’re alone in here,” Bucky said with a mischievous grin. “Pull the blinds, maybe we can get a quickie in before the doctor gets here.”

“Buck, I’m serious,” Steve said sternly.

“So am I!” Bucky replied. “It’s not every day you wake up in a brand new body. Come on, help me break this baby in.”

Steve’s blush grew. “Later, I promise,” he said.

Bucky stared at him before he dropped his gown. His dick, which had been working its way to hardness softened.

“Okay,” he said. “Later.”

The doctors cleared Bucky to leave as soon as they saw he was up and about. His ma cried from relief when she arrived and found him. Bucky hugged her tightly and realized that he probably had to be gentle when she groaned a bit more easily than he remembered. His very next thought was that he was gonna get her back for all the years of oppressively bone-crushing hugs she always gave him.

He went back with Steve to the tower where they proceeded to… do absolutely nothing. They didn’t go down to the gym or fuck or even watch tv. Steve just had Bucky sit down on the couch while he did everything. He brought Bucky the biggest sandwiches Bucky had ever seen, he put Bucky’s shoes away for him, he cleaned every visible surface of his apartment twice, he got Bucky everything he wanted, and was even waiting outside when Bucky emerged from the bathroom.

“Steve, come on, I’m fine,” Bucky said. He took Steve’s hand. “Come on, let’s do something fun if we have to stay here.”

“No, Bucky,” Steve said. He jerked his hand out of Bucky’s like it was burned and… Bucky definitely felt that. He scowled at Steve.

“Fine,” he growled. He walked around Steve towards the front door.

“Where are you going?” Steve demanded.

“Home,” Bucky said as he shoved his feet into his shoes. “I’ve got things to do.”

The sound the door made when he slammed it made him feel a little bit satisfied.

It wasn’t until late that evening when Bucky’s phone rang. He looked down at Steve’s number. He was still mad, though, so he let it go to voicemail.

In the hours that he’d been home, he’d cleaned up everything. There was a lot, considering that Bucky tended to not have time to clean things between running a bakery and dating a superhero. His newfound strength and energy, though, proved convenient. He picked up the couch with ease to clean under it and even the bed seemed light to him.

It didn’t seem to matter, though. Steve, for whatever reason, didn’t seem to think that Bucky’s new abilities were all that interesting. He’d backed away from his touch and even turned away when Bucky had tried to kiss him earlier.

What if he doesn’t like the way I look, now? Bucky thought. It made the icy feeling in his gut grow. He curled in on himself, picking his feet up and wrapping his arms around his ankles. It was true, he had been shorter and skinnier than Steve when they met, but surely Steve hadn’t just liked him for his body… right?

The thought wouldn’t leave, though. Bucky eventually ended up falling asleep on the couch with nothing but an old afghan.

His alarm went off the same time it did every morning. Bucky groaned as he pressed snooze. He was gonna take the day off. He’d use the excuse that he’d been shot to defend it if anyone asked. Yesterday had been stressful, after all, in more ways than one.

He did, however, look at Steve’s contact on his phone. His phone said that he had a message from him. There wasn’t anything else, though. It wasn’t like him to ignore Bucky like this, though. Finally, Bucky decided to press the voicemail notification.

Hey, Buck, the message began. I’m sorry for what happened to ya today. Sorry that… you got hurt because of me. If we weren’t together, this wouldn’t ever have happened.

There was a pause in the message and Bucky’s heart stopped. “Steve, don’t you fucking dare,” he grumbled.

I hate that you got hurt because of me, Buck. I couldn’t live with myself if it happened again. I… I think it’s best that we go our separate ways, now.

Bucky couldn’t breathe. His eyes filled with tears and he clutched his shirt over his heart. “No, Steve, stop!”

So… I guess this is goodbye, Buck. I hope you live a good life… End of message. To delete this message—

Bucky hung up. His mind swirled with a tempest of emotions. Grief, shock, denial, rage, hate, and the sharp, bitter sting of rejection all fought for dominance. Bucky fell to his knees on the floor. He looked back down at his phone only to see that he’d crushed it in his hand. He banged his other hand on the coffee table and it cracked.

“Dammit!” he shouted. He got up, still seething with anger as he washed his hand under the sink. Thankfully, no glass had gotten in the cut across his palm, but he still bandaged it up. He would probably be completely fine after a few hours.

The thought of that made him think of Steve, though. Steve did this, made him this way. His body was new and different and strange. He’d broken his phone and his coffee table already. He couldn’t afford to replace them either! And now… now there was no one around to teach him how to adjust.

His legs buckled and he fell to his knees in a corner of the kitchen. He sobbed. Yesterday he’d been mugged, shot, and woken up a different person. Today, he was more alone than he’d ever felt at any other time in his life.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that. He cried until he couldn’t breathe and kept crying. It was the stupidest, dumbest, most Steve-like reason to break up. Protecting him… asshole.

When he looked up and cleaned himself off, he could hear a din of voices at his door. He walked over as quietly as he could and looked through the hole on his door. They had cameras and mics and Bucky groaned softly. This was the last thing he needed.

He turned around and started packing a bag. The first thing he’d need was to get to the tower. There was no fucking way he was letting Steve just break up with him over this. He took everything he was likely to need and packed it into a backpack before he snuck out the fire escape.

For some reason, there were no paparazzi at the bottom of the fire escape. Whether that was because they were leery about going into a strange alley or because they didn’t know about it, Bucky didn’t care. He jumped down from the bottom level and grinned triumphantly when his body only felt slightly uncomfortable at the landing. He’d need to work on that.

He marched towards the street and hailed a cab, which admittedly took him a few minutes, but it arrived before the press realized that he’d duped them.

“Avengers Tower,” he said as he climbed into the back seat.

The drive was as slow as he expected, honestly. Traffic was always bad in New York, but what mattered was that he wasn’t around a bunch of people that he could bump into and inadvertently send hurtling into oncoming traffic or onto the third rail at the subway or something.

Nearly an hour and a half later, Bucky arrived and paid the driver. He tried not to wince at how much it cost to get him there, but he didn’t care at the moment. He was totally getting Steve to pay for this shit.

Unfortunately, the press were here, too. As soon as he got out of the cab, they swarmed him like a school of piranha.

“Bucky Barnes, is it true that Captain America broke up with you?!”

“Mr. Barnes, can you confirm that you were kidnapped yesterday?!”

“Do the events that happened yesterday have anything to do with your new appearance?!”

“Was your whole relationship with Captain America a plot to steal the serum?!”

Bucky growled, but otherwise ignored them as he marched inside. Security guards let him through and held the reporters back. He sighed as he stepped inside.

“I guess you’re here to see Steve?” came a voice. Bucky turned to see Tony leaning on the front counter.

“What happened?” Bucky asked.

“You don’t know? You’re the one who became the world’s second super soldier,” Tony said. “Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long for people to try this. Steve having O negative blood and the serum being in it, it doesn’t exactly shock me that giving someone else his blood would pass the serum along.”

“I know about that,” Bucky said. “But everything else, no. I, uh, broke my phone.”

Tony glanced down at his hands and nodded knowingly. “I’ll hook you up with a Stark phone,” he said. “Had to make some that Steve could use after he kept breaking normal ones.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said. “So what’s happened?”

“It was about as dramatic an announcement as I’ve ever seen,” Tony said. “Steve told some press yesterday when they came here asking what happened and told them the two of you were no longer a thing. Next thing anyone knew, the Internet exploded. You’ve got fangirls crying about their OTP breaking up and everything.”

“Great,” Bucky said.

“So did you?” Tony asked.

“He left a message on my phone,” Bucky growled.

“Wait… he did?” Tony demanded, his eyes going wide. “That’s a dick move.”

“Yeah, so let me know where he is because he and I are gonna have words,” Bucky growled.

“He’s in the gym,” Tony said as Bucky got into the elevator. “Going to town on some punching bags, I’ll bet. I’ll take care of the press. Give him a good ole’ one two for me, all right?”

Bucky grinned savagely. “Sure thing.”

His heart was hammering in his chest and his body thrummed with nervous energy as the elevator moved. When it dinged and the doors opened, the only thing Bucky could hear was the sound of punching echoing through the room. He followed it until he saw Steve. In spite of the anger and sadness and hurt he felt, he took a moment to admire Steve’s form. Only a moment, though. He walked up until he was behind Steve.

“Hey, punk,” he said. Steve whipped around and before he could say anything, Bucky gave him a right hook, which nailed him square in the jaw. Steve stumbled back and Bucky grinned with satisfaction, knowing that he’d caught Steve off-guard.

“Bucky?! What—” Bucky interrupted him with a left punch, which Steve blocked easily. “Stop!”

“Stop?!” Bucky demanded. “Where do you get off telling me to stop?!”

He lunged at Steve and they tumbled to the floor. Bucky might not have any knowledge of fighting, but he was strong, strong enough that he was able to make Steve fight for his victory. He punched and kicked and shoved and even bit Steve before he ended up on the floor of the gym with his arms pinned above his head and Steve kneeling over him.

“Fuck you,” Bucky growled. “You’re a damn asshole, punk.”

Steve’s gaze softened. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your damned apology!” Bucky yelled. “I want an explanation! I feel like I deserve that much!”

Steve sighed. “I know you’re angry—”

“No shit.”

“I just couldn’t stand to see you get hurt again!” Steve shouted. “You got hurt because of me! I did the only thing I could think of that could protect you!”

“You’re not protecting me,” Bucky said. Steve blinked above him. Bucky closed his eyes and willed himself not to cry. “You’re not protecting me.”

“Buck, what’s going on?” Steve asked.

“Everything, you fucking moron!” Bucky cried. “I broke my fucking phone, I broke my table, I twisted some ladder rails on my way out the door trying to avoid the paparazzi, I had to stop myself from slamming a cab door closed cause I can’t afford to break more shit. I can’t clock people for getting in my face cause I don’t wanna hurt anyone.

“You did this to me, you asshole. You saved my life and made me a super soldier and you’re the only one who knows what this shit is like and now you’re calling it quits? You’re abandoning me!”

Bucky realized that he had tears streaming down his face and sucked in a breath. “Shit,” he hissed.

“Bucky… I’m so sorry,” Steve said. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around Bucky’s body. Bucky burrowed his face in Steve’s chest and sobbed.

“I’m still mad at you,” Bucky said between sobs.

“I know,” Steve said. “You have every right to be. I regretted it the moment I hung up, but when I woke up, I couldn’t get ahold of you.”

“Why? Why did you do it?” Bucky asked.

“I was scared, baby,” Steve murmured. “I thought that the only thing I could do to keep you safe was break up because I couldn’t think of the fact that you could’ve died because I love you.”

Bucky closed his eyes and fisted a hand in Steve’s sweaty shirt. He sniffed and breathed in the scent of Steve’s musk. Even now, he found that he loved the smell and sight of Steve all sweaty.

“Damn fine way of showing it,” Bucky muttered. Steve shifted down until his face was hovering over Bucky’s. He kissed him tenderly. Bucky growled, though, and kissed him back with more fire and force. He flipped them over and Steve gasped as Bucky stared down at him. Bucky smirked triumphantly. “Huh, so that’s what it feels like.”

“You like the view?” Steve asked. Bucky chuckled and placed his hands on Steve’s shirt.

“It could be improved,” he said. He pulled and the shirt ripped to shreds with no more effort than if it were paper. Bucky looked down at Steve’s chest in satisfaction and not a small amount of pride. He kissed Steve hard, thrusting his tongue into Steve’s mouth and biting his lower lip hard enough to make it bleed. Steve groaned beneath him but Bucky kept him pinned to the floor.

“You’re mine,” Bucky growled. “And I’m yours. ‘Til the end of the line, ya fucking punk.”

Steve nodded. “‘Til the end of the line,” he agreed.

Bucky kissed him again before he rolled Steve onto his stomach. He rubbed his aching cock over the cleft of Steve’s ass. He was fucking huge, now. It was like one of those online fake porn ads that promised miracle pills to make your dick get bigger, except it was Steve’s blood that did it. His jeans were uncomfortably tight around his member and Bucky quickly shucked them to the floor and tossed them aside. As soon as they were off, he reached down and ripped Steve’s khakis off along the seam.

“Jesus, Buck, I gotta walk around when this is over,” Steve groaned.

“Shut up,” Bucky said. “You broke up with me. A few ripped clothes is the least you deserve.”

He grabbed a packet of lube from Steve’s inside pocket (because the man always had a plan, even after he dumped his boyfriend, apparently) and slicked up two of his fingers. He pressed one to Steve’s hole and pushed in. Steve hissed at the intrusion, but didn’t say anything. Bucky kept pressing in until the digit was fully seated inside him.

Bucky fucked him with that finger until Steve felt loose enough for another and pushed it in alongside the first. Steve moaned and pressed his face into the floor beneath him as he pushed back on Bucky’s hand.

“Buck,” Steve said.

“Yeah?”

“A little down and to the left,” Steve said. Bucky bent his fingers as requested and Steve moaned loudly as he rubbed over Steve’s prostate. Bucky added a third finger and stretched him with impatience. He wanted to fuck Steve and this was honestly taking a while.

“Buck, I’m ready, fuck me,” Steve moaned. Bucky didn’t argue. He tore open another lube packet and coated his now considerably large cock with lube. He had been somewhat surprised to find that in addition to becoming stronger, his foreskin had grown back. And it felt. AMAZING. The head of his dick was so much more sensitive. He pressed the head to Steve’s hole and moaned just at the feeling. He pushed in.

“Oh God, oh fuck,” Bucky groaned. “Fuck, this is amazing.”

Steve chuckled beneath him. “Go slow,” he moaned. “Gotta give me time to adjust, baby.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to enjoy this,” Bucky replied.

“Enjoying your first time topping, baby?” Steve asked.

“The foreskin helps,” Bucky said. He inched further inside Steve and groaned as Steve’s hot, tight hole squeezed around him. “Seriously, first I eat bacon, now I have a foreskin. I might as well be a Gentile now.”

Steve laughed at that. “I’m a corrupting influence, it seems,” he said.

“You have to convert, now,” Bucky said. “Gotta make up for leading me astray.”

“Okay, Buck,” Steve chuckled.

When Bucky finally bottomed out, it felt amazing. Steve’s ass clenched around his whole length. It was the second most amazing thing Bucky had ever felt, the first being Steve’s cock in him. He’d always be a slut for Steve’s cock. This was a very, very close second, though.

He began to roll his hips against Steve’s slowly. He moaned at the feeling, at Steve’s walls wrapped tight around him. Steve groaned and pushed back against Bucky, matching his shallow thrusts. Bucky reached down and gripped Steve’s hips as he began to pull out more. He thrust hard into Steve’s heat and Steve whined.

“God, you feel so fuckin’ good,” Bucky growled. He pushed Steve’s chest down and started fucking him into the floor. Steve moaned and writhed beneath him. “You like that? You like havin’ a man who can keep up with ya? Who can go all day with you and not feel tired?”

Steve moaned and nodded beneath him. Bucky quickened his pace. There was no finesse or grace in it. He was angry and hurt and Steve was the one who did it. He threw his head back and groaned as he began to slam into Steve’s ass. Steve whimpered and moaned beneath him and Bucky grinned with savage satisfaction.

“You should’ve known better,” Bucky growled. “Should’ve warned me. Should’ve helped me, ya punk.”

Steve groaned and nodded. “Harder, harder, Buck,” he moaned. “Give me all you got.”

Bucky groaned and fucked faster. His body moved like lightning streaking across the sky, faster and more powerful than it had ever been in his life. His hands were like iron around Steve’s hips, nails digging into his skin and drawing bits of blood. Still, Bucky went faster, harder. He wanted Steve to hurt, to feel everything he’d done to Bucky. Steve just groaned beneath him and took everything Bucky gave him.

“Fuck, Bucky, I’m gonna come,” Steve moaned. “Gonna come, keep going!”

Bucky did. He slammed into Steve’s prostate with every thrust and without mercy. A moment later, Steve’s ass was squeezing around him like a vice and Steve shouted as he came. Bucky felt his body writhe beneath him, shaking as he came onto the floor beneath them. A second later, he slammed his cock into Steve’s ass as deep as it would go and he came too, his come bursting from him. He came more than he ever had in his life. Every drop of it shot into Steve’s waiting ass.

When he was spent, he slumped with exhaustion. His cock slipped from Steve’s ass and he collapsed on the floor breathing like he’d just run 20 miles. He breathed deep, the sweetness of the air filling his burning lungs. Steve got up and laid down next to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You were right, I abandoned you. I’m sorry for being afraid.”

Bucky nodded and held back more tears. “Just… promise me that if you ever want to break up with me in the future, you’ll do it person.”

“I didn’t want to break up with you,” Steve murmured. “Before yesterday, I…I thought that we would be together forever, actually. I never want anybody else, baby.”

“If you ask me to marry you naked on a gym floor, I swear to God I will walk the fuck out of here,” Bucky said. Steve laughed softly.

“Don’t worry,” he said.

“Good, cause I got standards. I want a real nice proposal, all romantic and shit,” Bucky said.

“Just so we’re clear,” Steve said. “You’re okay with me proposing at some later, undisclosed date.”

Bucky smiled against Steve’s chest. “Yeah, I’m really okay with that,” he said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby,” Steve murmured. “You mind if we get up and put some clothes on?”

Bucky smiled mischievously. “Yes to the first,” he replied. “But no to the second. I really wanna see how long I can go, now.”

Steve’s eyes darkened and he kissed Bucky with heat and passion. Bucky moaned and yielded to him like putty in his hands. Steve knew exactly how to get him going.

“You got it,” Steve said.

[banghwa]

bestie i stg every time i take ur hyyh quiz i get a different character gjhghgj I'm curious (and you don't have to answer this if it would like ruin the quiz or smthng like that but) which characters did you have in mind for the bible stories? to me gethsemane is definitely jin and jacob wrestling the angel is taehyung but the others I can't figure out (and I might be totally off hkhjhjk)

jhgfkjgh yeah lmao, while a lot of other ppl have said in the tags that the results really resonated obviously this is just a silly little quiz!! and we contain multitudes!!! but yes omg i do not mind explaining the bible story question + my reasoning behind them - will put under the cut in case ppl dont want the spoiler tho!

the garden of gethsemane - youre right this is seokjin !! i find it is pretty self explanatory with seokjin having to constantly weigh the worth of his friends' flaws against his own life

samson and delilah - yoongi ! the thing that is so (scream) to me is that ultimately samson knows delilah will betray him and yet he willingly relinquishes to her the secret of his strength. i think in a way this speaks to yoongi and his relationship with jungkook - he knows what jungkook does to him, and how despite everything he tells himself, he is ultimately and decidedly submited to jungkook

the binding of isaac - jungkook and taehyung . ok so . this one is not necessarily based on popular christian interpretation bcs that is not what i was taught it (for a catholic elemetary school we sure were taught through what i hear is a pretty jewish perspective !) i was taught that this story was about zeal, questionning yourself and constantly re-evaluating your relationship with god. jungkook puts his life on the line thinking that is what he must to do feel alive or that it is what he deserves, unable to see past his blinding self-destructive tendencies. seokjin in this case would act as god, horrified and livid at abraham being so quick to destroy a life out of fear. also lamb imagery etc. and if you read the binding of isaac from (from what i understand is!!) a more islamic perspective in which isaac knows full well what is going on and agrees to be sacrificed. thats very hyyhtaehyungcore. in this case seokjin would be abraham who shares his dreams with isaac, and taehyung would be the willing lamb to the slaughter.

ruth and naomi - hoseok. again i feel this one is pretty self explanatory! ruth and naomi's story is one about loyalty and of bonding and remaining resilient through grief together. smt smt hyyh jihope

the fall of eden - jimin !!! smt smt snake imagery smt smt lying smt smt loss of paradise in a garden (arboretum). ever-present and constant "punishment" for that loss. you get it.

jacob wrestling the angel - this one is actually namjoon! same with the demian line in the quiz, which was also referencing this passage. if anyone in hyyh is constantly wrestling with their fate and needs to learn to relinquish it is namjoon . he acts like a nihilist but really he just craves but wont let himself.