#Used a read more line for those who need it

[thankskenpenders]

Thoughts on two specific areas of the writing in Sonic X Shadow Generations

The best new 3D Sonic game in over a decade (or even two, depending on who you ask) dropped late last year. And I didn't write anything about it! Sometimes life happens. Well, I've finally sat down to finish Shadow Generations, and by now everyone has already been singing its praises for three months. This is the rare instance where the entire Sonic fandom, and even mainstream reviewers, are in agreement on something. The level design is the best it's been in a long, long time and the cool factor is off the charts, embracing Sonic's peak cringe era in an incredibly confident way. It's great. If you're even reading this post, you probably don't need me to tell you that. So I won't!

No, what I'm really interested in here is the writing. Because this is me we're talking about. But I actually don't want to talk about the main narrative of Shadow Generations, which is really solid little story about Black Doom trying to mold Shadow into his perfect soldier. No, I'd like to zero in on two other aspects of the writing here: the revisions made to Sonic Generations, and Gerald Robotnik's unlockable journal.

The updated Sonic Generations script

The new package mostly presents Sonic Generations how you remember it. There are some tweaks, but it's not a major overhaul. Graphically, I don't think the game has been touched much, if at all. I certainly can't notice any difference without a side-by-side comparison, despite playing it on a PS5. The most notable update is that the game's script has been rewritten by Ian Flynn.

Naturally, this caught my attention. Generations always had a nothingburger story, so with Ian rewriting Pontac and Graff's lame dialogue there was nowhere to go but up. (I don't like to pin the blame for those games' stories entirely on them, as a ton of it was dictated to them by Sonic Team, but, well, I don't think they're very good dialogue writers.) But it's less a complete rewrite and more like Ian was brought on as a script doctor for some minor touch ups here and there. Many lines of dialogue are completely identical to how they were originally written in 2011, and many others only have slight wording changes. Ian was clearly not allowed to request additional scenes or extend the ones that already existed. He has to match the original beat for beat so that they can reuse 99% of the cutscene animations. Don't expect it to be a whole new experience compared to the original.

Still, I think the new script is an improvement, albeit a minor one. Various things have been tweaked to maintain characterization consistency. Cream calls Sonic "Mr. Sonic" instead of just "Sonic." Instead of calling Sonic "buddy," Rouge uses the pet name "Blue," like she tends to do in things like the IDW comics. Espio doesn't have to remind you in the dialogue that he's a ninja, and he no longer has a line making it sound like he has some kind of soul reading power. I also like that Modern Sonic now actually has responses to what his friends say when he rescues them, rather than being silent like Classic Sonic. They won't blow you away, but they make Sonic feel a little more engaged with everything.

In general, the altered dialogue just seems tighter to me, and some of the more childish or trite wording of Pontac and Graff's script has been altered. Here, let's actually make a direct comparison, just because this stuff is interesting to me as a writer. Here's a couple lines from after the Egg Dragoon fight late in the game, in the original script:

Modern Eggman: Ooooh... I can't believe this! I was supposed to beat you this time. Modern Sonic: Aw, I'm sorry! I didn't get that memo. I beat you every time! [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat this guy every time. It's like it's our job or something!

This is a simple exchange. Eggman is mad that he lost. Sonic is unflappably confident because he always beats Eggman, and he explains this to his younger self. But the wording here isn't particularly good. Eggman's simple and direct wording makes him come off like a little kid who's mad because his older brother beat him at Mario Kart, rather than a mad scientist who just had his plans foiled. It's making light of the situation.

And I've never liked Sonic saying "It's like it's our job or something!" That doesn't feel like a thing Sonic would say, it feels like a thing an outside observer would say about Sonic. This is a frequent problem with so-called "MCU dialogue," where quips meant to echo the commentary of a casual, somewhat disinterested audience are inserted into the story itself so that the writers can be like "See? We get it. We're genre-savvy, too!" It also just reminds me of bad Sonic Boom: Rise of Lyric lines like "Rings! It's like they're made for me!"

And then here's Ian's rewrite:

Modern Eggman: I recalibrated everything! This was supposed to be my time! Modern Sonic: Oh, please, keep dreamin', Egg-head. I beat you every time. [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat him every time. Our score card's flawless.

Eggman's still mad about his defeat, but the line "I recalibrated everything!" makes it more specific. He put all this work into the engineering side of his latest scheme and got tunnel vision, thinking if he got his creations just right there'd be no way he could lose. "This was supposed to be my time!" also turns it into a time travel pun, which is a bonus. He's still pitching a fit over losing, but it feels more like Eggman pitching a fit, rather than sounding childish.

And then instead of saying that beating Eggman is "like his job or something," Sonic says he's got a flawless score card against Eggman. He doesn't take Eggman seriously as a threat—at least, not to his face. He acts like it's all a game. But he conveys this in a way that feels truer to the character, rather than feeling like the words of a real world observer poking fun at the tropes of the Sonic series.

Is this amazing, A+ dialogue that blows me away? No. Again, it's not a completely different scene from the one we already had. Ian had to fit the beats of what was already there. He couldn't go all out and write an all new story confirming his longstanding headcanon that the Time Eater is a remnant of Solaris or whatever. But the wording here makes the existing story land a little better and feel truer to the characters in subtle ways.

But to me, the main change is that the Sonics and Tailses seem to have a more solid understanding of what's going on with the timeline and the Time Eater, compared to how idiotic they sometimes seemed in the original game. Which is good! No more standing outside Green Hill and wondering why it seems so familiar. Thank god. As part of this, yes, there are a few more references to past games in the dialogue, like Sonic briefly being confused about the fact that they're time traveling without the Time Stones, or South Island and Westside Island being acknowledged as the normal locations of Green Hill and Chemical Plant. Yes, ha ha, insert joke about how Ian loves references here. Look, it's Sonic fucking Generations. It's a game built entirely out of nostalgic references. Just own it! And, again, in this instance Sonic and Tails come off as less stupid when they make it clear that they do, in fact, remember their adventures from presumably less than a year ago in-universe.

Eggman, too, seems to have a better understanding of the powers he's toying with. Where in the original vesion his focus was simply on going back in time to undo his previous defeats and he seemed kind of oblivious to how much the Time Eater was actually fucking up the universe, here Eggman says he wants to use the Time Eater to give himself complete control over the entire timeline. Eggman also makes way fewer references to his own failures and shortcomings. Of course he won't admit that Sonic has defeated him time and time again. To him, he's never truly lost—Sonic just keeps delaying the inevitable total victory for the Eggman Empire.

So, yes. The new Sonic Generations script is better. It won't blow anyone away, but it's better than it was. It's been elevated from "kinda lame" to "fine." No, if you really wanna see Ian flex his ability to breathe new life into old Sonic stories, look no further than...

Gerald Robotnik's Journal

Hoo boy.

The story of what happened aboard the ARK has always been... a bit confusing, to say the least. Fans with encyclopedic knowledge of the script for every route of Shadow '05 may disagree, but it's the truth. We've had all the pieces to understand the story for a long time now, but that info was given to us out of order by a pair of unreliable narrators—Gerald, who became a vengeful lunatic shortly before his death, and Shadow, who was subjected to multiple rounds of amnesia and altered memories. Some of the ambiguity left by Sonic Adventure 2 was cleared up in Shadow '05, but that game also retconned in a bunch of new elements to Shadow's backstory (aliens!) that lead to further confusion. Not to mention the fact that that game had multiple routes and only revealed the truth about Shadow if you sat on the ultimate final boss battle for WAY longer than the fight would normally last. Or the fact that Sonic X made its own tweaks in its telling of the story. Or the fact that none of these things ever had the best English translations. I can't blame anyone who hasn't played those games in two decades for not remembering the truth about these characters and getting some details mixed up.

What we needed was something to piece together all of the info we have into one coherent backstory, told in chronological order. And thanks to Shadow Generations, we have that, in the form of an official journal tying together what we knew from Sonic Adventure 2, Shadow '05, and Sonic Battle into the tragic tale of Gerald's rise and fall.

Ian Flynn was the perfect man for the job here as the guy who started his career by tidying up the mess that was the first 159 issues if Archie Sonic. This is what he excels at: taking disparate bits of weird Sonic lore from multiple different sources, boiling them down to their most interesting elements, and connecting it together in a way that will make the audience see the dramatic potential he's always known was there. Rather than feeling like a cynical exercise in franchise building, going back and explaining things that never needed explaining so that people can add more bullet points to the wiki, he puts a new spin on things that retroactively enriches those past stories. The story here means something to the characters involved and gives us a better understanding of them as people, rather than as plot devices to motivate Shadow.

(And, of course, Ian didn't do this journal alone. He wrote the story, but I also have to give a huge shout out to Evan Stanley, who made the final product. All of her handwritten journal entries, sketches, and "photos" included throughout. The physical damage done to the journal over the course of 50 tumultuous years, passing from Gerald to Eggman to a certain special someone at GUN. The way Gerald's handwriting gets less and less legible as his mental state declines. So much love was put into what could have been a mere text dump in a menu, and it really elevates it to the next level. Congrats on officially getting hired by Sega, Evan, you've sure as hell earned it!)

The main idea the journal conveys is that Gerald was under a lot of pressure from a lot of different parties—GUN, the President, his colleagues aboard the ARK, Black Doom, even his own family—and boy did it get to him. The known incidents aboard the ARK mentioned in previous games are put together here to form a story where everything slowly spirals out of control as Gerald keeps compromising his morals to further his research, thinking he'll eventually find some way out of all this because he's a genius. I won't recap that whole story here (if you haven't already played the game and read the journal entries, I would highly recommend at least reading it on the Sonic wiki), but I'd like to highlight my favorite elements of the story, as Ian tells it here.

1) The Eclipse Cannon

Here's something that never quite made sense in Sonic Adventure 2: why does the ARK have a laser that can blow up the Earth built into it? It was supposed to be a peaceful research colony. Sure, Gerald went crazy and swore revenge on the Earth, but, like... when did he have an opportunity to go back up to the ARK and modify it? Did he have someone else do it? How? The ARK was raided by GUN and shut down! And then they arrested him, held him in prison for an unclear period of time, and executed him by firing squad when he was no longer useful! It doesn't add up. Shadow 'the Hedgehog '05 would give its own answer by introducing the Black Arms and saying that the Eclipse Cannon was always supposed to be a secret trump card against the Black Comet. But, like... we know that's kind of a bullshit answer, right? You don't need enough power to blow up a whole planet just to destroy a comet.

Well, the new journal retains what we already knew, but it paints a much more complete picture.

See, long before Gerald ever made a Faustian bargain with Black Doom, he had already made one with an even greater evil: the military. GUN gave Gerald much of the funding for the ARK, Gerald's personal utopian research station in space, but it didn't take long for GUN to start pressuring him to design them weapons. Gerald tried to get GUN off his back by personally contacting the President of the United Federation, and the President gave him an alternative: how about, instead, you just use your genius brain to figure out the secret to immortality for us, so our soldiers can be immortal? Gerald was initially sickened by the notion and found it completely absurd, like chasing a shadow... but given no other option, the sarcastically named Project Shadow soon began in earnest. (Maria would later put a more positive spin on the name after Shadow's awakening, pointing out that a Shadow can show us the direction of the light, like she says in the game itself.)

Of course, this search for the ultimate life form didn't go very well, and without any results on that front GUN kept hounding him for weapons. Gerald would throw them a bone here and there to get them off his back. His research on Chaos resulted in the Artifical Chaos prototypes, which he worried would be used for warfare but could at least theoretically be used for search and rescue missions in floods, in his mind. But that wasn't enough. So he gave them Chaos Drives to power their mechs. And that still wasn't enough. He's got Emerl. He'll give them Emerl. They're not impressed by Emerl. They'll shut the whole ARK down if Gerald doesn't give them something big.

Fine! GUN wants something big? Gerald builds a huge fucking laser cannon into the ARK. However, as a middle finger to GUN, Gerald makes it so powerful that it would destroy the Earth if it was ever fired at any target on its surface. In other words, GUN now has their ultimate weapon of mass destruction, fulfilling his contract, but they can never actually use it. Oh, the delicious irony. (And also Shadow will blow up the Black Comet with it in 50 years yada yada yada.) Is this perhaps extremely shortsighted and naive of Gerald, to believe that such a weapon would never actually be used just because of the risk? Of course. But hey, that's Gerald for you. And I love this as an answer.

(Also, this, uh, kinda echoes something from real life! Remember the bit in Oppenheimer where he says all nuclear war will become unthinkable, and Edward Teller responds "until somebody builds a bigger bomb"? Yeah, Teller went on to conceptualize a superweapon codenamed Project Sundial that would have been able to kill all life on the planet, as the ultimate deterrent for war. This was never made for obvious reasons, but hey, there's a basis for this sort of thinking outside of heightened sci-fi! There's a whole Kurzgesagt video about this if you're interested.)

2) The Biolizard

The Biolizard is, of course, brought up as the initial failed prototype of the ultimate life form, from before Gerald met Black Doom. We don't really learn all that much about it that we didn't already know, but I just love the way it's framed in the story.

As you can see above, we actually get to see a picture of Maria holding up the cute little salamander that would end up mutating into the Biolizard through Gerald's experiments. (Researchers want to figure out how to replicate salamanders' regenerative abilities for humans in real life, too, so this was a natural starting point for the project.) And then, after it grows to a monstrous size and goes out of control, Gerald has to lock it away in an unused sector of the ARK. He needs to keep the poor thing alive for his research into harnessing Chaos Energy, building life support systems directly into it, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Maria what happened. So it just becomes this first dark secret weighing on his conscience. The Biolizard becomes Gerald's Tell-Tale Heart beating beneath the floorboards of the ARK. I love that.

3) Lost Impact was the breaking point for the ARK

Remember the level Lost Impact in Shadow '05? The flashback level on the hero path where Shadow is running around fighting Artificial Chaos enemies on the ARK 50 years ago? Yeah, that wasn't just a random incident. That was important, as we now know due to its placement on the timeline.

See, Emerl's rampage aboard the ARK that was chronicled in Sonic Battle and Dark Beginnings set off a domino effect. Emerl riled up the Artificial Chaos, causing Gerald to lose control of them. They became violent, and so Shadow had to stop them, as depicted in Lost Impact. The thing is, that incident sent an SOS signal to GUN telling them that shit was going down on the ARK. Gerald didsn't fully understand the trouble he was in and assumed that he'd simply be reprimanded by the higher ups, or maybe face legal action. But, well... the next time he heard from GUN, armed troopers were raiding the ARK.

So Lost Impact was the straw that broke the camel's back. I just really like that detail.

4) Maria

And, of course, there's Maria herself. Maria has often been more of a symbol than a character, this perfect embodiment of everything that's good and pure in this world who gets killed to motivate Shadow and Gerald's revenge plots. But I really like the wrinkles this journal adds to her and Gerald's story, and their relationship. This is the most fleshed out they've ever felt.

For one, the journal leans into the idea of Maria's intellectual potential. The rest of the Robotnik family is all geniuses, after all, and she was proving to be a really bright kid. She excelled in her studies on the ARK, and she even helped design Shadow's jet skates and inhibitor rings. When Maria died, the world didn't just lose a symbolic personification of purity. She genuinely could have been a hugely influential scientist who did so much good for the world. That's what Gerald wanted for her. But we'll never know, because GUN killed her.

Speaking of her family, their presence isn't just mentioned for the sake of fleshing out the Robotnik family tree. It's mentioned that as Gerald struggled to find a cure for Maria's illness through his genetic research, he faced mounting pressure from his family. They didn't want Maria to be up on the ARK forever. They wanted Gerald to hurry up and find a damn cure, or otherwise just send her back home to Earth so she could be with her family again. She'd been up on the ARK for so long that Gerald's coworkers started thinking that she had been born up there. Eventually she gains a baby sister on Earth who she's never met. A rift forms between Gerald's two sons, and he's unable to really deal with it because he's so consumed by his work. There's this sense that the family is falling apart, and that everyone is dreading the possibility that Gerald will never find a cure and that Maria will just spend her final years up in space and die far away from her family, because Gerald just couldn't let go. If that happens, it'll break the whole family. But he can't stop now. So he just keeps working. Curing Maria is the only way to win his family back, in his eyes. It can't all be for nothing.

But my favorite detail regarding Maria is this one paragraph:

Maria is growing into a lovely young woman. It breaks my heart that someone as bright and energetic as her is diminished by disease. There are no visible effects, and I've caught my fellow researchers muttering to each other, doubting her illness. It is infuriating. I find all my reason and restraint vanishes when she's slighted.

This is SUCH a great addition to the story! It's always been true that Maria doesn't really seem all that ill, just looking at her in cutscenes. With this one little comment, Ian flips that issue on its head and turns it into a story about invisible disability. She doesn't act like she's in chronic pain, so she must not be, everyone thinks. And this really, really gets to Gerald, as does the pressure from his family. He's dedicating his whole LIFE to saving her, and they think she's faking it?! It's such a small addition, never referenced elsewhere in the journal, but it adds so much flavor to the story, as does the implied family drama. It grounds Gerald and Maria and makes them feel more like real human beings, rather than being pure archetypes. It's just enough info to let my imagination run wild filling in the blanks.

You also get the feeling that Maria being such a walking ray of sunshine was the only real source of joy Gerald had left in his life before Shadow was awakened, and the only thing keeping him from snapping under pressure sooner. All this stuff just keeps piling on, everything's spiraling out of control, but at least Maria is keeping her chin up, right? It makes so much sense that losing her would make him go off the deep end when it's framed like this.

It's just... man, I never thought I'd care so much about Gerald and Maria. But that's the Ian Flynn touch. After years of less than stellar Sonic writing that seemed to be embarrassed of itself, I'm so happy to have new games coming out that fully embrace the history of the series like this, making its world feel so rich and real instead of just serving as an excuse for a string of platforming levels. I don't even like Shadow '05, but I'll be damned if Ian and the rest of Sonic Team didn't make something amazing by "yes, and"-ing Shadow's cringe past here. Sonic has truly reached levels of "we're so back" never thought possible.

[stillarobyn]

I understand the intention behind this post and I don't disagree with it. I don't.

If you're writing a period piece or something with a certain dark tone, then yes, you absolutely want to keep to that, give your gruff sailor a mumbled line about not being like most other men, or your scattered workaholic scientist can say she never felt like she was missing out on anything by not having a partner while they save the world.

But do not limit the reach of fanfiction by expecting it to be held to the same standards.

Because we need both. Because the target audience for a lot of works that employ this are young, they're disconnected from community, and they're lost. They think they're broken or they don't fit or they are made wrong.

I, a millennial, didn't know about bisexuality until I read about it in fanfic somewhere around 2003 (I was 13). I didn't know any out gay or queer people growing up. It was still scandalous on tv, and my parents didn't have any problem with it, they just didn't talk about it. I can't imagine how isolating it would have felt if my parents prevented me from watching anything with gay characters or spoke negatively about them.

My first discovery of nonbinary identity was in a bandom fic I read in 2010 (I was 20, for those playing the home game). It was maybe two years after that that I began to talk with nonbinary/genderqueer/genderfluid people online. I knew a couple of binary trans people in college, and one in high school, but this was my first time meeting people who weren't a binary gender. In 2012! It took another two years for me, at this point a full-ass adult, to start describing myself that way.

All of this oversharing to say...my understanding of queer identity was not hand-held by anyone in my life, but boy I learned to accept these foreign ideas I saw in myself because I had a safe fictional environment to explore these concepts and terms.

I think it was 2014-2016 when fanfic spaces had a boom of "everyone is trans" AUs and headcanons, and they were often rose-tinted and a bit twee, but that's the point of them. I saw identities I had to look up, and when I asked in follow-up "okay, but what does a person who feels like that look/act like?" it was all crickets, except in fiction, and specifically fanfic.

"But the world is different now, not knowing is no excuse" NOPE. not with anti-lgbtqia legislation passing in the US, or in other hostile countries around the world (I'm from the US, my argument is US-centric based on my experience and knowledge, but by no means exclusionary of people in other countries), or even family situations or rural upbringing or any other circumstance that isolated young queer folk from other queer folk.

A popular live-service video game introduced a nonbinary character and I saw twitch chats full of people who were just confused and uneducated. Ignoring those who were hostile was easy, but the uninformed, especially the non-English-speakers and people who didn't come from Western cultures, were largely open to learning something they never had framework for. Made all the more frustrating in a game environment where the characters didn't make a habit of having these discussions on screen, but that's a different rant.

I don't know if OP intended this in reference to original media, or toward fic, but I saw a lot of established characters in the reblogs so I just want to address that. I'm a characterization first fic reader, so I get it. "Everyone is trans" fics aren't for me, but there's a space needed for them if someone needs to see Captain Kirk and Spock debating the application of terminology of human gender and sexuality in interplanetary cultural settings...now actually I kind of want that fic so I played myself.

Dragon Age Veilguard came under attack for daring to openly and forwardly use the term "nonbinary" in its fantasy world, as though something about the word is inherently incompatible with the fantasy genre? But the game was pretty clear in its goal to create a safe gaming space for marginalized folks when so often their experiences are erased, ignored, tokenized, or stereotyped. The narrative, therefore, had to be hostile to the unaccepting, educational for the ignorant, and validating to the vulnerable. Getting to play in a world where people are referred to as nonbinary (just like me) and where people use they/them pronouns (just like me) and where no one ridicules or attacks them specifically for this? It felt comfortable and safe and the world was ending in the game, but I felt a personal empowerment in my immersion.

More complex and nuanced discussions by characters about their queer identity add to the picture. It shouldn't be in every work because every author has their own angle and their own philosophy about it, but they have just as much a right to a seat at the table. You can have your fics where Tony Stark's sexuality is a smirk and a wink, and you can have your fics where he explains that he used to call himself bisexual but the world is bigger and weirder so he considers himself omnisexual now. And if you don't like that, scroll past it. The author didn't write it for you, but someone else needs to hear that.

Maybe this is just a personal vent that escaped containment, but I feel the need to remind some folks that some people need the LGBT center brochure version because they didn't get one in the mail. It's a tough time for everyone in this community, no need to make it tougher.

he would not fucking say that but it’s he would not fucking talk about his queer identity like he was reading out of a college campus lgbt center brochure

[writer-with-jazz]

Bad nights (part one)

poly marauders x reader

summary: Remus got clingy cuz of the full moon, James lost a match, Sirius has problems with his parents and you aren’t well. How Will this situation turn out?

warnings: I did re read for any mistakes but forgive me if there are still any, English isn’t my first language. Mentions of cramps. *************

The night had been long. The full moon had crept across the sky like a bloodstain, pulling Remus into his darker self. You hadn’t slept much, instead staying by his side, calming him through the transformation, holding him when the worst was ovre. You'd always been there for him during the full moon, to comfort him when he was at the lowest. But the aftermath was always the hardest.

As you slipped out of bed that morning, the sharp ache in your lower stomach was already making itself known. A quick hand to your forehead confirmed the faint but persistent headache you could feel creeping in. But it was nothing you couldn’t handle. You had always hated when your fate overlapped with the moon, but you were persistent and keen on keeping Remus comforted.

Remus was still in a haze, soft curls sticking to his forehead as he lay sprawled across the bed, his breathing slow but steady. You gently stroked his hair, making sure he was comfortable before slipping out of the room.

James was already up, in fact he hadn’t slept at all, pacing in front of the common room window, his Quidditch robes hanging loosely over his frame. His shoulders were slumped, and his usually bright eyes were shadowed with the frustration of the previous day’s loss. g his  competitive nature had been bruised, and you could see it in every frustrated sigh he let out, each muttered curse under his breath.

he grumbled as you entered the room, his gaze briefly flicking to you before returning to the window, "Can't believe we lost. We should’ve had that match. I—I don’t know what happened out there."

You let out a sigh, crossing the room to where he stood. The air between you was thick with the unspoken tension of a day that was already setting itself up to be difficult. 

"James, you played well," you offered quietly, your voice softer than usual. You needed to conserve your energy today. The last thing you wanted was to get caught in his spiral of selfloathing.

James shook his head, running a hand through his messy hair. "No, I didn't. Not good enough. I'm supposed to be team captain. I’m supposed to—" He cut himself off with an exasperated sound, turning to face you, his eyes wide and hurt. "I let everyone down."

The words were biting,and you could see his frustration beginning to shift into anger, an energy that was heavy and stormy. You stepped closer, reaching up to place a hand gently on his arm, trying to soothe him, but before you could speak again, the door slammed open, and sirius came in looking angry. He stormed into the room, his black hair wild and his eyes full of anger. His jaw was clenched tight, and there was a harshness to his posture that you hadn’t seen in a while.

"Merlin’s bloody beard!" he snapped, throwing his robes down on the nearest chair. "She’s done it again. That vile, disgusting woman." He glared at the empty space as though it had personally offended him, his voice low but full of venom. "I swear I’ll hex her into next week if she don’t  stop—"

"Sirius, you interrupted, your voice breaking through the tension. "What’s happened? Who’s did what?"

He turned toward you, frustration written all over his face. "My mother," he spat the words like they were poison. "She—" He broke off with a frustrated growl. "She's spreading more of her lies. Calling me a disgrace. I don't care what she says about me, but it's the way she talks about you, about all of us. She doesn’t know when to keep her damn mouth shut." 

You could see the frustration etched in every line of his face, the fury he was barely containing. 

"She doesn't get to say those things about us, not about you—" Sirius began again, but before he could continue, Remus appeared in the doorway, a little disoriented but still with that familiar, warm look in his eyes. The transformation had left him weak, but the gentle way he looked at you was a comfort.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice still rough from the remnants of the full moon, his body swaying slightly as he leaned against the doorframe. “Are you okay?”

You smiled softly at him, but the heaviness of the room was starting to press in on you. "I'm fine, Remus. Just dealing with everything." You gestured to the others, who were now standing near each other, the tension between them palpable. Sirius, full angery, James, sulking and looking down at the floor, and Remus, who was still far too clingy for your liking, though you loved him, the constant need for contact, for reassurance, was draining, especially when there was sm going on 

Remus slowly shuffled over to you, his hand reaching out to touch your arm. “I know you’ve been up all night,” he murmured, his touch warm and familiar as he leaned his head against your shoulder. "But I'm... I just need you close."

You felt the weight of his need, the way his exhaustion made him cling to you even more than usual. Remus, after the full moon, was always a little more fragile—more in need of comfort, You didn’t have the energy to refuse him, so you let him rest his head on your shoulder, but the pressure of his presence felt like an anchor, keeping you stuck in the moment. His body heat radiated against yours, a contrast to the coldness that was between the others.

Sirius scoffed, his eyes flashing as he watched the scene unfold. "Do you really have to do that now, Remus?" he bit out, his voice sharp. "She’s already dealing with James’s little pity party and now you're draping yourself all over her like a bloody blanket."

James shot Sirius a dark look. "Sirius, not now. We’re already having a bad enough day without you making things worse."

But Sirius, already on edge from his mother’s words, wasn’t about to let it slide. “And you,” he snarled at James, "stop blaming yourself. You lost. Fine. So what? You don’t see me running around crying like a bloody baby." He turned back to Remus, his voice rising. "You’ve been through worse too, mate, but that doesn’t mean you get to turn her into your personal cushion!", 

Remus pulled away slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion, but the words struck hard. He looked between the two of them, his hand still resting on your arm but his face now drawn tight with exhaustion and hurt. “I just—I don’t know what you want from me, Sirius,” he said softly, a bit too emotionally raw for his own liking. "I’m just trying to get through the damn day."  His emotions all over the place from the exhaustion and pain.

You could feel it—everyone was breaking at the seams, and you were stuck in the middle, trying to pick up the pieces without anyone knowing just how much you were struggling too. The ache in your stomach intensified, but you bit your lip, trying to hide it, not wanting to add another layer of complication to everything already unraveling around you.

You caught James’s eyes as he stood there, his expression distant and hurt. He was disappointedt in the situation, in the way everything had turned out. The way the room felt as if it were closing in around you.

Sirius was still glaring at Remus, and James was still looking at you like you were the one thing left in the world that made sense.

And for the first time, you didn’t know how to fix it.

do you want to be added in the tag list for the next part? Comment or dm or send in an ask <3

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Defense (of the internet) (from billionaires) in depth

Picks and Shovels is a new, standalone technothriller starring Marty Hench, my two-fisted, hard-fighting, tech-scam-busting forensic accountant. You can pre-order it on my latest Kickstarter, which features a brilliant audiobook read by Wil Wheaton.

The only way to truly billionaire-proof the internet is to a) abolish billionaires and b) abolish the system that allows people to become billionaires. Short of that, any levees we build will need constant tending, reinforcement, and re-evaluation.

That's normal. No security measure (including billionaire-proofing the internet) is a "set and forget" affair. Any time you want something and someone else wants the opposite, you are stuck in an endless game of attack and defense. The measures that block your adversary today will only work until your adversary changes tactics to circumvent your defenses.

For example, mining all the links on the internet to find non-spam sites worked brilliantly for Google, because until Pagerank, there were zero reasons for spammers to get links to point to their sites. Once Google became the dominant way of finding things on the internet, spammers invented the linkfarm. This principle can be summed up as "Show me a ten-foot wall and I'll show you an eleven-foot ladder."

Security designers address this with something called "defense in depth": that's a series of overlapping defenses that are meant to correct for one another's weaknesses. Your bank might use a password, a 2FA code, and – for extremely high-stakes transactions – a series of biographical questions posed by a human customer service over a telephone line.

I've written extensively about defending a new, good internet from billionaire enshittifiers. For example, in this post, I described how Bluesky could be made enshittification-resistant with the use of "Ulysses Pacts" – self-imposed, binding restrictions on enshittification:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/02/ulysses-pact/#tie-yourself-to-a-federated-mast

A classic example of a Ulysses Pact is "throwing away the Oreos when you go on a diet." Now, it doesn't take a lot of work to devise a countermeasure your future, Oreo-craving self can take to defeat this measure: just drive to the grocery store and buy more Oreos. This even works at 2AM, provided you live within driving distance of an all-night grocer.

That doesn't mean you shouldn't throw away those Oreos. Depending on how strong your Oreo craving is, even a little friction can help you resist the temptation to ruin your diet. We often do bad things because of momentary impulses that fade quickly, and simply airgapping the connection between thought and deed works surprisingly well in many instances.

This is why places with fewer guns have fewer suicides of all kinds: there are plenty of ways to kill yourself, but none are quite so quick and reliable as a gun. People in the grips of a suicidal impulse who don't have guns have more chances to let the impulse pass (this is also why gun control leads to fewer all-cause homicides). So just because a measure is imperfect, that doesn't make it worthless.

If you're trying to give up drinking, you throw away all your booze, but you also go to meetings, and you get a sponsor who can help you out with a 2AM phone call. You might even put a breathalyzer on your car's ignition system. None of these are impossible to defeat (you can get an Uber to the liquor store, after all), but they all create friction between the thing you want, and the thing your adversary (your addiction) is trying to get. They strengthen the hand of you as defender of the sober status quo, against the attacker who wants you to relapse.

Critically, all these defensive measures also buy you space and time that you can use to organize and deploy more defenses. Maybe the long Uber ride to the liquor store gives you enough time to think about your actions so you call your sponsor from the parking lot. Defense is useful even when it only slows your adversary, rather than stopping your adversary in their tracks.

Scaling up from personal defense to societal-scale security considerations, it's useful to think of this as a battle with four fronts: code (what is technically im/possible?), law (what is il/legal?), norms (what is socially un/acceptable?) and markets (what is un/profitable?). This framework was first raised a quarter-century ago, in Larry Lessig's Code and Other Laws of Cyberspace:

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Code_And_Other_Laws_of_Cyberspace_Version_2_0.pdf

Lessig laid out these four forces as four angles of attack that challengers to the status quo should plan their strategy around. If you want to liberalize copyright, you can try norms (the "Free Mickey" campaign), laws (the Eldred v. Ashcroft Supreme Court case), code (machine-readable Creative Commons licenses) and markets (open access/free software businesses). Each one of these helps the other – for example, if lots of people believe in copyright reform (norms), more of them will back a Humble Bundle for open access materials (markets), and more lawmakers will be interested in changing copyright statutes (law), and more hackers will see reason to do cool things with CC licenses, like search engines (code).

But the four forces aren't just for attackers seeking to disrupt the status quo – they're just as important for defenders looking to create and sustain a new status quo. Figuring out how to "lock a system open" is very different from figuring out how to "force a system open." But they're both campaigns waged with code, law, norms and markets.

We're living through a key moment in enshittification history. Millions of people have become dissatisfied with legacy social media companies run by despicable, fascism-friendly billionaires like Elon Musk and Mark Zuckerberg and are ready to leave, despite the costs (losing contact with friends who stay behind). While many of them are moving to group chats and private Discord servers,tens of millions have moved to new social media platforms that advertise (though they don't necessarily deliver) decentralization: Mastodon (and the fediverse) and Bluesky (and the atmosphere).

Decentralization is itself a defensive countermeasure (code). When a service has diffuse power, it's harder for any one person to take it over. Federation adds another defensive layer, because users who don't like the way one server is run can move to another server, with varying degrees of data- and identity-portability. That makes it harder for server owners to squeeze users to make money (markets), and gives them an out if server owners try it anyway.

Federation with decentralization is my favorite anti-enshittification defense. It's powerful as hell. It's the main reason I endorse Free Our Feeds, an effort to (among other things) build more Bluesky servers to decrease the centralization and give users dissatisfied with Bluesky management an alternative:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/20/capitalist-unrealism/#praxis

That said, decentralization and federation are not perfect, set-and-forget defenses. Take email – the oldest, most successful federated system of them all. Email is nominally decentralized, but most email traffic goes through a handful of extremely large servers run by a cartel of companies (Google, Apple, Microsoft, and a few ISPs). These companies collude (or, more charitably, coordinate) to block email from non-cartel companies, in the name of fighting spam. This makes running your own mail server so hard that it is nearly impossible (that is, if you care about people actually receiving the email you send them):

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/10/dead-letters/

What's interesting about enshittified email is that it didn't start with corporate takeover: it started with volunteer-maintained blocklists of untrustworthy servers that most email operators subscribed to, defederating from any server that appeared on the list. These blocklists of bad servers were opaque (often, their maintainers would operate anonymously, citing the threat of retaliation from criminal scammers whose servers appeared on the list). They had little or no appeal process, and few or no objective criteria for inclusion (you could be blocklisted for how your email server was configured, even if no one was using it to send spam). All of this set up the conditions to favor large email servers, and also had the effect of immunizing these large servers from appearing on blocklists. I mean, once three quarters of the internet is on Gmail, no one is going to block email from Gmail, even if a ton of spam is sent using its servers.

The lesson of email doesn't mean email is bad, nor does it mean decentralization and federation are useless. It doesn't even mean that blocklists of bad servers are evil. It just means that federation and decentralization are imperfect and insufficient defenses against enshittification, and that blocklists are useful, but very dangerous. It means that we should strive to keep our systems federated and decentralized, and watch our blocklists very carefully, and not rely on any of this as the only defense against enshittification.

Likewise, both Mastodon and Bluesky are built on free/open code and standards. That means that anyone can fork them, fix them or mod them. What's more, the licenses involved are irrevocable, making them very effective Ulysses Pacts. No one – not a CEO, not a VC investor, not a court or a blackmailer – can order someone to make their GPL code proprietary. The license is perpetual and irrevocable, and that's that.

Free/open licenses are excellent Ulysses Pacts and great code-related defenses against enshittification, but they, too, are imperfect and insufficient. Google, Facebook, Amazon, Apple and Microsoft have all figured out how to enshittify services that are built on free/open code:

https://mako.cc/copyrighteous/libreplanet-2018-keynote

And then there are all the companies that use free/open code and defeat the freedom and openness by simply violating the license, on the grounds that a decentralized, federated development community can't figure out who has standing to sue, and also can't afford to pay for the lawyers to do so:

https://sfconservancy.org/news/2022/may/16/vizio-remand-win/

That's not to say that code-based antienshittification measures are pointless – only to say that they need other measures to backstop them, as defense in depth. Let's talk about law, then. Both Mastodon and Bluesky are governed by legal entities that are, nominally, organized by charters that oblige them to eschew enshittification and be responsive to their users (Bluesky is a B-corp, Mastodon's code is overseen by a US nonprofit).

These structures are very important. I've been a volunteer board member for several co-ops and nonprofits (I was even once a volunteer for a nonprofit co-op!) and I'm familiar with the role that good governance can play in defending a project from internal and external pressures to betray its mission. That means I'm also familiar with the limits of these governance measures.

Take nonprofits: nominally, nonprofits are legally bound to serve their charitable purpose, and technically, stakeholders have legal recourse if they stray from this. But you don't have to look far to find nonprofits that have violated their charter and gotten away with it. Take the Nature Conservancy, which has become a key player in the market for fake "carbon offsets" that are used to justify everything from fossil fuel extraction to SUV manufacture:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/12/fairy-use-tale/#greenwashing

Or think of ISOC, who get tens of millions of dollars in free money every year from their stewardship of the .ORG registry, but who decided to hand over control of the nonprofits' TLD of choice to a shadowy cabal of hedge-fund billionaires:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/12/how-we-saved-org-2020-review

Co-ops, too, are powerful but wildly imperfect. REI is a member co-op that does lots of great things…and also busts unions:

https://prismreports.org/2024/07/17/rei-workers-unionizing-fighting-for-agreemment/

But REI is a paragon of social virtue compared to its Canadian equivalent, Mountain Equipment Coop, whose board was taken over by corrupt assholes who then sold the whole thing to a US private equity fund and change the name to "MEC":

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/16/spike-lee-joint/#casse-le-mec

B-corps are far from perfect, too: while they are nominally required to serve a positive social purpose, in practice, they can violate that purpose with impunity, whether that through greenwashing:

https://www.bbc.com/worklife/article/20240202-has-b-corp-certification-turned-into-corporate-greenwashing

Or Kickstarter insiders taking a $100m bribe to help Andreesen-Horowitz do a crypto pump-and-dump:

https://fortune.com/crypto/2024/03/11/kickstarter-blockchain-a16z-crypto-secret-investment-chris-dixon/

None of this is to claim that B-corps, co-ops, and nonprofits are useless. Maybe we should just give up on organization altogether and have some kind of adhocracy? If you're thinking this will help, then you need to read Jo Freeman's "The Tyranny of Structurelessness" and learn how a "leaderless" group is actually led by its least scrupulous, most Machiavellian schemers:

https://www.jofreeman.com/joreen/tyranny.htm

At this point, you might be mentally designing a new corporate structure, one that's designed to correct for both the tyranny of structurelessness and the brittleness of co-ops, nonprofits and B-corps. Please don't do this. Rolling your own corporate structure is like rolling your own cryptography or your own free software license. It always ends in tears:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/artificial-intelligence/openai-remove-non-profit-control-give-sam-altman-equity-sources-say-2024-09-25/

I like co-ops, nonprofits and B-corps. They're powerful – but insufficient – weapons against enshittification. They need to be backstopped by other measures, like norms. Normative measures are very powerful! Of course, mass revolts of angry users don't always keep companies from enshittifying:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2023/dec/30/reddit-moderator-protest-communities-social-media

But sometimes they do. The C-suite of Unity was shown the door after enshittifying their flagship product:

https://www.theverge.com/2023/10/10/23911338/unity-ceo-steps-down-developers-react

As was the enshittifying CEO of Sonos:

https://www.theverge.com/2025/1/13/24342179/sonos-ceo-patrick-spence-resignation-reason-app

And of course, these defensive measures reinforce one another. The public outcry against the .ORG selloff (norms) led to California's Attorney General stepping in (law), and after that, we more-or-less romped to victory:

https://www.theregister.com/2020/04/17/icann_california_org_sale_delay/

Markets are the final antienshittificatory force. If a social network is designed to be surveillance-resistant, it will be (very) hard to implement behavioral surveillance advertising. If a network is designed to support a many clients, it will be easy to implement an ad-blocker. Both factors make advertising-based businesses very unattractive to individual server operators, spammers, and VCs who back companies that operate elements of a federated server.

Same goes for systems that allow users to control the recommendations and other algorithmic aspects of their feeds (including switching these off altogether). The fact that Tiktok's users overwhelmingly use an algorithmic feed that they have no way to control or even understand is an anti-Ulysses Pact, an irresistible temptation for Tiktok to enshittify itself:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

By contrast, it's much harder to pull those shenanigans with services that technologically devolve control over recommendations (code), making it less profitable to even try to attempt this (markets). And of course, if users refuse to tolerate this kind of thing (norms) and can hop to other servers (code), then any system that pulls that nonsense will lose lots of users and go broke (markets).

This defense-in-depth approach to decentralized social media pushes us to analyze both Mastodon and Bluesky through a tactical lens – to identify the weak parts in the defenses of each and shore them up.

Take Free Our Feeds and its attempt to stand up more Bluesky servers. This addresses one of the serious technical deficiencies in Bluesky (the lack of federation), and if lots of Bluesky users try it out, it will normalize the idea that Bluesky is a constellation of independently managed servers (norms). It also creates Bluesky alternatives with radically different commercial imperatives (markets), because the main Bluesky server is backed by venture capitalists, who are notorious for their enshittifying impulses.

But security isn't static – a tactic that works today won't work tomorrow if your adversary can figure out a way around it. Bluesky is a B-corp with an excellent board with some names I have profound trust for, but B-corps can abandon their public benefit purpose, and boards can be fired (and also even people you trust can talk themselves into doing stupid and wicked things, see .ORG).

If millions of Bluesky users flock to a rival service, one run by a nonprofit (markets), Bluesky's investors might be tempted to sever the link between Bluesky and that new server (code). That's what Facebook and Apple did to XMPP, an interoperable, federated messaging system that used to connect Apple users, Facebook users, and users of many other servers. They did this for commercial reasons (markets), to trap and lock in their users (code), and they got away with it because not enough users were outraged by this (norms) that they could get away with it.

When Bluesky's VCs fire the CEO, kick people like Mike Masnick off its board, and then defederate from Free Our Feeds' server, how do we make that more like Sonos or Unity (where the corporation capitulated to its users), and not like Reddit (where the user revolt was crushed)?

With social media, it's a numbers game. Social media grows by network effects: the more users there are in a system, the more valuable it is. It's not merely imperative to create alternative Bluesky servers, it's imperative to make them populous enough that cutting them off from the first Bluesky server will inflict more pain on the company than it inflicts on those other users. That's not a guarantee that Bluesky's future, enshittification-bent management won't go ahead and do it anyway, but it does increase the chances that if they press on, their users will take the hit to defect to free/open servers.

Bluesky has other problems besides its centralization, of course. The reason Bluesky is so centralized is that it's really expensive to run an alternative Bluesky server that provides a home for users who have left the main server (a "relay" in Bluesky-ese). Partly this is down to tooling: because no one has done it, Free Our Feeds will have to invent a lot of stuff to get that server up and running, but people who come later will benefit from whatever Free Our Feeds develops along the way.

But mostly, this isn't a tooling problem – it's an architecture problem. The way that Bluesky is structured demands a lot more of relays than Mastodon demands of "instances" (a loose Fediverse analog to relays):

https://www.techdirt.com/2025/01/21/the-technological-poison-pill-how-atprotocol-encourages-competition-resists-evil-billionaires-lock-in-enshittification/#comment-4253477

This is a code problem, and it's a hard one, but it's not insurmountable. The history of networked tools is the history of developers figuring out how to break apart large, monolithic, expensive services in cheaper, smaller, easier to develop. In other words, our defense in depth of Bluesky militates for more than one project – not just a "Free Our Feeds" but also a software development project to make it easier for anyone to free those feeds.

Which raises some important questions, the biggest being "Why bother?" After all, there's already a perfectly good Fediverse that could sure use the money and effort that Free Our Feeds is proposing to put into Bluesky. My main answer here is that the point of disenshittification is an enshittification-free internet, not a better Mastodon:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/20/capitalist-unrealism/#praxis

We want to set Bluesky users free because the problem with Bluesky isn't its users, it's the fact that there's no fire-exits those users can avail themselves of if Bluesky's VCs set it on fire:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/14/fire-exits/#graceful-failure-modes

But there's another good reason to do this, one that involves people who have no interest in using Bluesky: even if you don't want to use a better Bluesky, you likely have very good reasons to reach Bluesky users. Maybe you want them to help you organize against enshittification! Or maybe you just want to operate a real-world venue where people can gather and have a great time and support performers, and right now you're stuck advertising on Facebook and Instagram, and you don't want to end up being forced to use an enshittified, fire-exit-free Bluesky in the future:

https://www.dnalounge.com/backstage/log/2025/01/13.html

Of course, there's plenty of reasons to want to make Mastodon better. Many of Mastodon's features are absurdly primitive – the lack of threading support and quote-boosting sucks, and the supposedly opt-in system-wide search doesn't work, even if you opt in. Masto could sure use some of the money that Free Our Feeds is asking for to spruce up Bluesky.

This is true, but also irrelevant. Mastodon is stuck at around a million active users, while Bluesky has twenty times that amount. Crowdfunding a couple dollars per user to pursue software development is a reasonable goal, but raising twenty times that much is a lot harder:

https://mastodon-analytics.com/

The money being raised for Free Our Feeds isn't money that had been earmarked for Mastodon development, nor will abandoning Free Our Feeds redirect those funds to Mastodon development.

Which isn't to say that we shouldn't chip in to fund Mastodon development. I donated to the Kickstarter for Pixelfed, a Fediverse Insta replacement that has Meta so scared that they'll suspend your account if you even mention it:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/pixelfed/pixelfed-foundation-2024-real-ethical-social-networks

Adding Insta-like features to Mastodon is great. Fixing search, quoting, and threading would be great, too. We probably need some kind of governance efforts to keep volunteer-run, good faith defederation blocklists from exhibiting the same dynamics that email went through during the spam wars. There's some Bluesky features I'd love to see on Mastodon, like composable moderation and user-controlled, user-tunable recommendations. We also probably need some kind of adversarial press that closely monitors the governance structure for the Mastodon codebase and reports on process in standardization (I cannot overstate how much fuckery can take place within standards bodies, under cover of a nigh-impermeable shield of boringness).

Breaking Bluesky open is a priority. Keeping Mastodon open is a priority. But neither of these are goals unto themselves. The point is to set people free, not set technology free. Willie Sutton robbed banks because "that's where the money is." Right now, I'm interested in anti-enshittification measures for Bluesky because "that's where the people are."

Check out my Kickstarter to pre-order copies of my next novel, Picks and Shovels!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/23/defense-in-depth/#self-marginalization

Image: Mike Baird (modified) https://flickr.com/photos/mikebaird/2354116406

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[drdawnbreaker]

ﾟ°☆𝐃𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐏𝐭.𝟏☆° ﾟ

Heya!! This is my first recommendation list. I read too much and from multiple different fandoms, hehe. I did think about splitting the fandoms up into separate posts, and maybe I'll do that in the future, but for now, these are all just amazing fanfics that I need to share and show off to the world. If you have any fics you really love, whether they are your own or others you love. Send them my way!! Im always looking for new content to read, hehe.

ᴍᴀʀᴠᴇʟ

✦ Unleashed — @veltana

Genre: Smut. Sex Pollen Au.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions, and all he wants is you.

✦ Last Minute — @dollfacefantasy

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Frank Castle x Female Reader

Summary: When Frank won't give you attention, you have to convince him not to leave somehow...

✦ Everybody Talks — @nickfowlerrr

Genre: Smut. Halloween Au

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Curvy!Reader

✦ What If...? — @vunblr

Genre: Smut. Angst. Neighbours Au

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Curvy!Reader

Summary: Bucky navigates his insecurities and guilt from his past as he grows closer to his new neighbour, a nurse.

✦ Who’s She? — @sacredsorceress

Genre: Fluff. Secret double life au.

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: when sam gets injured during a mission and isn’t able to go to a hospital, bucky brings him and natasha to his own home to get cared for by his girlfriend, y/n, who he’s been keeping a secret.

✦ Dr. Bee — @malum-forev

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Bucky x Nurse!Reader

Summary: Bucky has quite the reputation, but all it takes for him to want to change is an hour with an outspoken little Bee.

✦ In losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time) — @mellowsaturns

Genre: Heavy Angst. Onesided-enemies-to-lovers-ish

Pairing: Soldat!Bucky x Assassin!Reader

Summary: When the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy, but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.

✦ Blurred Lines — @ellemj

Genre: Time Travel. Angst. Smut. Fluff. Enemies To Lovers

Pairing: Avengers!Bucky x Reader. 40s!Bucky x Reader

Summary: When choosing a female agent to send back in time to gain young Sergeant Barnes's trust, everyone's in agreement that it should be Sharon. Until Bucky, the man that you barely get along with, speaks up and lets everyone know that it could only be you.

✦ Out of My Head — @navybrat817

Genre: A/B/O. Smut. Angst. Fluff.

Paring: Chubby!Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Summary: Bucky feels a bit insecure during a romantic evening, and you do your best to get him out of his head.

✦ The Memory Remains — @vunblr

Genre: Smut. Angst. Winter Soldier Vibes

Pairing: Bucky x Curvy!Reader

Summary: An unexpected encounter brings Bucky face-to-face with someone from his past, stirring memories he thought were long buried.

✦ Toy Soldier (part 1) — @vunblr

Genre: Dark. Gore. Angst. Fuff. Big feels

Paring: Winter Soldier!Bucky x mutant!Reader

Summary: She had been the tool Hydra used to keep him operational; he, the weapon manipulated by their tendrils to execute their ambitions. Years after breaking free, fate Sam Wilson brings them together once more. Now, they must navigate the challenges of forging a connection beyond the twisted dynamic that once bound them in the past.

ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ

✦ Strawberry Scented — @cakelitter

Genre: Smut. Hybrid au.

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Bunny!Reader

Summary: You remain still blissful as ever. Your dreams must be nice, hopping in meadows and basking in the sun; or is that too stereotypical of him? Wonder if you dream about him. Does your mind replay the sweet and innocent time you spent together? Or do you get dirty dreams about him like he does?

✦ Dolled Up — @coqvttes

Genre: Smut.

Pairing: Carlos Oliveira x Virgin!Reader

Summary: After making you wait nearly two months to lose your virginity, you surprise him in lingerie that you know he can't resist corrupting you in.

✦ Sweetheart Club — @cakelitter

Genre: Smut. Angst. Collage au.

Pairing: Professor!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: “You wanted to talk, professor?” he turns around and faces you, placing down the papers he’s holding on his desk and taking his glasses off. “Yeah, mind explaining the absences?”

✦ Light of the Full Moon — @dollfacefantasy

Genre: Dub-con. Werewolf au. Smut. Angst

Pairing: Husband!Wolf!Chris x Wife!Reader

Summary: Your husband hasn't been the same since coming back from his latest mission. you struggle to understand the cause, not wanting to believe the worst. on the night of a full moon, tensions peak, and you're determined to find out the truth.

✦ LIKE RABBITS ♡ — @dollfacefantasy

Genre: Pure Smut. Hybrid au

Pairing: carlos oliveira x bunny-hybrid!fem!reader

ᴅᴄ

✦ Werewolf!Jason Todd Imagine — @redr0sewrites

Genre: Smut. Werewolf au. Heat/Knotting

Pairing: Jason Todd x Human!Reader

✦ Virgin Jason Todd — @devotedlyandrogynousyouth

Genre: Pure Smut. Drabble. P/W/P

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

sᴘɴ

✦ Tentacles — @sweetcocopowder

Genre: Smut. Monster fucking. Supernatural.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Castiel ft. Alien being?

Summary: Dean has to perform a ritual to continue further in his hunt. Said ritual, is fucking an ancient being that only wants to pleasure. And Cas is here as moral support.

[hihigherdi]

When I was at the Al Brooks talk, I kept thinking about how much I loved writing when I was younger, when I first got here to San Francisco. I have so many stories from the different retail places I’ve worked – Nordstrom, Microsoft, where I am now - where I climbed and then fell off the corporate ladders year after year while going to therapy to deal with all of the personal stuff that the jobs surfaced

I might drop a few entries here of that old writing stuff as I think about what could be new.

Love is the Elixir

He came well recommended though he lived in the country. My friends and I share a prejudice regarding rural America, we’re too cynical to appreciate its undiscovered charms. Sure, we like the ponies and the idea of antiquing but when you haul that stuff back to the house? All you really have is an old busted up bench that’s really uncomfortable. Where I’m from, everybody knows that the best part of small towns is the hope that you’ll come across a rogue A&W so you can drink the perfect root beer float. As with most small towns, the road turned into more roads and suddenly, I was there.

You’d think a therapist’s office in the country would at least have some kind of white picket fence. Maybe one of those Desidrata welcome mats or a winsome little sign on a wooden door that said “We’re just two chickens clucking around”.

I’m nervous even writing this.

But instead I was greeted by a pasture filled with Longhorn cattle, the kind that seems to only live in Texas or a Chuck Norris film. You know – America. But seriously, Longhorn cattle? In my therapeutic experience? That was unexpected. I parked my little city slicker car so terribly out of place, wandered up to the fence and eye-balled a big male. It was a “he” based on the size of its…hooves. It lumbered over and eye-balled me right back.

Hello cow.

I knew he probably deserved a more majestic greeting but my whispered hi there was further indictment of why I was there in the first place (I had no opening lines with males of any kind).

I tentatively opened up the little country door to the little country house. A deafening wave of classical music coming from upstairs hit me square in the face from a room somewhere upstairs. It was the music that someone who had to sit on the other side of other peoples’ crazy needs to absorb between appointments. I felt guilty that we put him through it.

I waited in the obligatory little room where people like me wait. Leather-bound books and a cozy chair that felt like it had been born there. And a poster that simply read “Love is the Elixir of the Universe.” While I sunk into the chair and silently panicked, a little Corgi waddled her way inside. I stroked her back, admired her little belly and told her so. Feeling my heart slow just a little. Would I still have need of a therapist had I invested in a dog two years ago? What about a cat? A bird would have sent me there years earlier, I knew that much.

The music stopped. A disembodied voice cut through the silence and called for me without using my name. One part Indian, one part British all the rest of it weary. I’d been rejected by enough men to know he didn’t want me there which was fine, fuck you Mr.Tired Voice, I didn’t exactly want to be there either.

He was an old man. Surprisingly little. Glasses. Bare feet. God. Bare feet, come on.

He sat in his chair. I sat in the couch. He didn’t look at me, didn’t say hello. Just started writing on a note pad. We sat there for a good minute or two in total silence. If someone could have harnessed my nervous energy a few more polar bears would be alive today. Did you read the Wall Street Journal article suggesting that nervous energy is extremely productive? It can create things like biodegradable fuel that people outside of Berkeley actually care about and save animals that are extinct. Maybe you’re reading this, you’re smart enough to make that happen and you just haven’t because you’re nervous but you’re lazy. Do you feel badly now that you know you could have done something for the bears? If not you should, you really should.

Why are you here.

I’m here to let go of a relationship I never really had that may have wrecked me.

So you’re crazy then.

(Go to hell you elitist, classical music-listening, cotton shirt-wearing, creepy barefoot longhorn cattle-owning clearly height compensating narcissist.)

Well it feels that way sometimes. But I don’t want to be.

What happens if you really are wrecked.

At least I’ll know. That has to be good. It’s the not knowing that’s hard.

But don’t you already know?

(Jesus asked, Do you really want to get well?)

I suppose I do. I guess I want to be something more than wrecked from someone who should have never wrecked me in the first place.

Will you tell the truth?

Yes. (too quick)

…I don’t think I know how.

So you’re a liar.

(He SEES. Get out. Make him like you. But he won’t. He sees you.)

I don’t have much to lose so I guess I will. It’s weird how long it took to get here, how tightly one can cling to something that doesn’t even exist, that’s all in my head but false hope seems to be postponed grief. So yes, I’ll be honest. Maybe it’s easy to be honest when one is at the bottom of things.

Is that it?

Is what it?

Silence.

What are you afraid of most?

That I’ll charm you and you won’t be able to see me and I will leave with the relief of knowing that I’ve fooled you like I’ve fooled everybody else. And the despair of knowing that I did.

You know all that is up to you.

That’s what scares me the most.

It should.

I may not be ready for this. I may not be capable.

No one ever is. Isn’t that beautiful.

[witchiewitchie]

I would like to address an elephant in the room.

I've kind of reached my tipping point with the amount of slurs that people seem to feel completely comfortable using derogatorily in this fandom, so long as it's in the name of 'in-character' roleplaying.

I don't feel like calling anyone specific out, but these people will know who they are, and what's more, I'm sure that most people who are familiar with the plethora of It fandom tags that I've also used are unfortunately very familiar with these accounts.

Let me be clear: while personally, I do not have a strongly negative opinion of reclaiming slurs, there is a big difference between 'reclaiming', which overwhelmingly is seen as a process of taking back words and redefining them, and just straight up using a slur the exact same way a homophobic (or anything else) person would use them.

It is not okay to use the F slur, for example, as a derogatory term. This is a hard line that we must not cross, because no matter what, it is a term that has been used in the past and will continue to be used in the future as a way of discriminating against or otherwise insulting people.

Even if you want to defend yourself by saying that it is simply in-character roleplay, I would encourage you to take a step back and try to figure out why exactly perpetuating homophobia (which is what you're doing, for the record, if you use a slur derogatorily, no matter the context) is something that you must do, particularly in a public space, without any trigger warnings.

At the very least, trigger warnings are a must, particularly if you insist on using harmful words in public. I understand that in the current year most people are somewhat removed from such a thing as homophobic or otherwise LGBTphobic bullying and/or harassment -- which is a wonderful concept, to be sure! However, that does not mean that all of us are so lucky. Many people have trauma resulting from such kinds of bullying and/or harassment and would appreciate at least a tag that they can avoid, rather than having to walk on eggshells because of a lack of consideration by others.

I think this also holds true for any other slurs you might see people using, but I'm picking my battles where they need to be picked.

As a side note, I think that whether you as an individual feel comfortable reclaiming slurs or being around people who do so is entirely up to yourself, and no one can tell you what to feel or how to act about something that is so intensely personal.

Personally, I have participated in reclaiming slurs that have been used as insults for myself in the past, and to some extent do this even now, although much less often. However, I specifically do not use these slurs in public -- whether in real life or online -- because there is no guarantee that people who overhear or read your public message are not going to take it as A) you genuinely saying the slur as an insult or B) a go-ahead to use the slur as an insult.

I will again state though that it is ultimately your choice to reclaim or to not reclaim slurs, although I will reiterate that I believe that it is actively harmful to use these slurs derogatorily, and I do not think that it is a personal choice but instead a moral failing to use slurs derogatorily or to insult other people.

Sincerely, someone who was beaten up many, many times in school for being any number of slurs that people have now decided it is okay to use derogatorily even as part of those marginalised groups.

[green-apple-juice]

My take on the Angbang reunion when Melkor finally returns to Mairon after being separated for 3,000 years. This is part of my fanfic, which I originally wrote in Ukrainian because my English isn’t perfect, and I feel more comfortable expressing the thoughts in my native language. I liked this part, so I tried to translate it. I hope you enjoy it, but I apologize for any mistakes.

***

“You have not changed at all… my dear Mairon…” A soft chuckle came from above. “My loyal lieutenant. Rise and let me finally look at you.”

The Maia obeyed, though the words sounded more like a request than a command. When he was near Melkor, the line between the two often blurred, like a pattern in the sand washed away by the stormy sea. Still, no matter how the words were spoken, he could not ignore his master’s will.

Mairon rose to his full height before the bed, straightening his back and trying to keep his expression calm, though the tears welling in his throat were impossible to suppress entirely. He knew, of course, that hiding them was futile. Melkor knew him too well—he had always been able to read Mairon as easily as an open book.

Now wasn't the time to show weakness. Mairon feared Melkor might take it as an insult or, worse, as pity. He had no right to pity one whose name was the very embodiment of power and majesty. Melkor didn't need his tears. No matter what had happened, he was still the lord of the world, his king. Even now, injured and exhausted, he remained the one who had conquered both the world and Mairon himself.

For a long moment, Melkor was silent, simply studying his lieutenant. He neither spoke nor moved—it seemed as if he wasn’t even breathing. Mairon dared not look up, but as the silence dragged on, screaming in his ears, he could endure it no longer. Finally, he whispered:

“My lord?…”

Their eyes met. Mairon felt his knees weaken, but not from fear or despair at having disappointed his beloved. In Melkor’s black eyes, there was no disgust, no rage. Instead, he gazed upon Mairon as though he were the greatest and most beautiful being in all the universe. A gentle smile touched his lips, and in the deep darkness of his eyes, there was a glimmer like starlight reflected on the ocean’s surface. Yet to Mairon, that sight outshone even the creations of Varda.

It was with that same gaze that Melkor had welcomed Mairon on the day he arrived in Utumno, leaving behind Aulë, Yavanna, and all of Almaren to pledge the eternal devotion to his new master. And it was with that same gaze that he looked upon him each time their passionate embraces carried them into oblivion, in the whirlwind of shared ecstasy.

“You are as perfect as the day I last saw you,” Melkor whispered, his deep, low voice trembling. “As if it were only yesterday.”

“But it was so long ago,” Mairon said before he could stop himself. The words escaped more like a sob, raw with pain. “And it was hard for me. I… I missed you, my lord. So much that I thought I would lose my mind. I wanted to go to Valinor and kill Manwë and Varda with my own hands for parting us. Or fall to my knees before them and beg permission to be with you.”

His legs gave out again, and Mairon nearly collapsed, clutching the edge of the bed as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. He knew he had no right to voice such feelings. He should have been reporting to Melkor about important matters: the fortress, ready to rise above the land, grander than ever; the army, gathered and awaiting orders to kill the enemies and glorify his name. Those were the things that mattered—his own emotions did not. And yet, the words poured from him, unstoppable, breaking through all barriers and drowning him in a torrent of longing and despair.

“But you did not do it, and for that, I am proud of you,” Melkor’s hoarse whisper came again, as the rustling of leaves in the wind. “I knew you would remain strong, even when it was unbearable. In doing so, you helped me as well. It would have been far more painful to see you there—forced to humble yourself before them, to beg for mercy, to promise to amend and atone for your guilt. And then to watch them imprison you, or worse, condemn you to serve that wretched Aulë again. They… they do not deserve you. None of them do. They are unworthy even to touch a single strand of your hair, Mairon.“

Mairon held his breath, hanging on every word. Melkor’s wounded hands gripped the edge of the bedspread as he continued:

“I have endured everything that has befallen me because I held your face in my mind. I thought of you waiting for me. And I know you will wait—however long it may take. You are my most precious treasure, my fiery Maia, my other half. You belong to me—you are mine, and mine alone. More than that, you chose to be mine, and not even damn Eru can change that.”

Mairon could not find the words to fully express what he felt upon hearing this. The knowledge that Melkor had never stopped thinking of him, that their love had not faded but had only grown brighter and stronger, filled his heart. Their bond had hardened, like molten metal shaped in the flames of a forge, hammered into a weapon forged for unwavering loyalty and vengeance against their enemies.

Mairon felt as though he could destroy the entire world to avenge the suffering and loss they had endured.

But doing so would mean leaving Melkor alone in this room—and he would sooner die than abandon him now. Instead, Mairon did what he had dreamed of through all those long, lonely years, when he lay in his cold, empty bed and dared to imagine Melkor by his side.

Grasping Melkor’s pale face with trembling hands, he pressed his lips to his master’s dry, cracked ones, breathing in his familiar scent, tasting the iron tang of blood, and savoring the warmth of his breath. In that moment, it felt as though the unyielding chain that had bound his heart for all those endless years—forcing him to smother his emotions, choking him with pain—was finally breaking apart, freeing him at last.

[a-hazbin-spider]

Had Alastor had a hankering for pork, hellhog even, it might be all fine and dandy, just so long as his own is kept from the sharp and frequently terrifying maw to be met at the end of. But. As far as fear goes, Angel’s thoughts don’t even tread close to those lines. He never feels dread upon looking at his teeth or witnessing any feats of his strength. Most fear comes from the thought of losing this… thing they had. While Angel may be quick to label it as friendly, he isn’t entirely sure just how much of it would be particularly matched.

Odd, for being someone that specializes in reading others and putting their feelings and urges in the spotlight, this isn’t like those times. In fact, he was notoriously losing his touch when it came to good intentions. Or maybe he never had it at all- maybe it was just hoping in all its naive glory.

Either way. He still enjoys whatever it is, it brings him the gist of a childish descriptor of normalcy and at the very least positive companionship. One that can stick around and enjoy cooking together. It really does make his smile feel less like a tool when the other is around. Ironic, given just how well the other is quite proud of keeping that face regardless. Even without that, Angel can feel pride at least in his work, as it got the stamp of approval, which he sees is genuine from the other after their shared time.

“I appreciate you lettin’ me.” Speaking of shared time, he can with full honesty respond with his own remark. Maybe Alastor could tell his old love of cooking even from this little snippet of time. Simple as it is, Angel already looks forward to having it again. Maybe even like this.

“I’d do it again. Anytime you need a hand in th’ kitchen. I got a few.”

Maybe the time from before- wasn’t something he could connect to this moment. Despite this, Angel would be glad to spend more time there too. Even if the night of his injuries had been off to a shakier start, no regret could be harbored from any of the time he was allowed to spend. He might need to be careful before he catches himself longing for the company enough to get annoying or clingy. That’d need to be a thought for later though it seems.

A side eye can be met with a couple of his own facing any scrutiny head on. He wonders briefly what he must look like, many situations bring him to the vain thought. Curious as well as compulsive- fingers twitching to rid any blemish or unseemly marking over his person. But it dies down, much as he doesn’t always take to being told what to do very well. He could let this one slide. If anything, the other just offered him something beneficial.

“High expectations, I see.” He jokes before conceding, “I’ll give it a shot, I guess you’d know pretty well about needin’ it. I won’t say no to an excuse neither. I appreciate that. Hope you c’n find a lil rest too.”

Alastor has a few places to look for Angel should he need to destress like last time too. Who knows, it might serve to convince his body to grant itself sleep that is restful for once. Hoping for that is so little an act. And yet, he’s slowly starting to rethink its use a bit.

“Hm, even for a pig, he ain’t a squealer. And I guess he ain’t one for words neither. Either way his Daddy ain’t raised no snitch! He likes to steal snacks though, I gotta make sure he has a supply, or things would go missin’!”

Angel chuckles softly, ease working its way through him as he feels the welcome warmth of what had to be… a form of camaraderie, friendliness that made it a little easier to breathe with him. And perhaps that might be the delectable smell of the meal they’d cooked together. But, you know what they say, the way to a man’s heart is said to be through the stomach! Even if that statement is in no way anatomically correct… There is something magical about sharing a meal, he can’t deny.

That- it is something he can say for certain. He often lacks suitable time or energy, quite familiar with the situation of being needed in one place or another, or being busy. Often he finds that if he isn’t here before the others rise, then the time for this is usually passed.

He’d felt lighter already. Well, in that area of his chest and shoulders at least. He’s still a bit sluggish, feeling heavy. But he is sure the nice meal before him will make him feel better. The fried egg giving a pleasantly fresh smell with the pepper and spice used.

He’s a little cautious, in a way that he’s making sure the plate is secure when it’s held. When it is offered to him, it’s taken gratefully, the warmth and smell savored just a moment but he doesn’t exactly wait for anything to cool, he’s convinced he needed a big bite right away. Yeah it’s hot, sure, but also he’s gratified by it being delicious. He’s not overzealous about it, but he does certainly show appreciation for the flavor.

“Fabulous..!” He feels a little silly, and perhaps a little like a stereotype, but it brought a good mood about him, it had been a good while since he had something nice and filling such as this. Of course he can appreciate it in its entirety.

“I don’t think I’ve had em cooked this way b’fore. I’ve used hotsauce, or soysauce but, this is definitely better. An’ it’s perfect texture too.” He has no choice, he’s gotta praise where he sees fit! He won’t praise something that’s not deserving, but he is in no way shy to give credit where it’s due. Especially seeing that it’d made him a bit giddy.

Hm. He’d definitely need to remember to approach their agreement with some form of caution and respect. Though in the mean time, this should give good insight. After all, he had been serious as to bring offerings for Alastor to eat should he really need some place else to feel security.

[askfatesguardian]

Somewhat curiously the Vibrava gazed up at the beautiful 'mon, tilting her head a bit before pointing up. " What happened to your horn? "

"Well... I don't really know," Kreilanna replied. her hand resting upon her hornless chest. "I have a scar there from an attack when I was a child, but I'd never had horns then either. So maybe I was never meant to have them. Or maybe some of the damage from that day remains."

"A pack of Houndoom hunted me as a Ralts. I would have died that day if not for my Surrogate Father, Xelthalon. He's the reason I awoke to the ancient blood my family carries so that I could take his place when he passed on."

The Gardevoir gives a faint smile to the Vibrava beside her, though there is a sadness hidden deep within her gaze. "I hope that answers your question well enough. Thank you for visiting me."

[insertdisc5]

🎮 HEY I WANNA MAKE A GAME! 🎮

Yeah I getcha. I was once like you. Pure and naive. Great news. I AM STILL PURE AND NAIVE, GAME DEV IS FUN! But where to start?

To start, here are a couple of entry level softwares you can use! source: I just made a game called In Stars and Time and people are asking me how to start making vidy gaems. Now, without further ado:

SOFTWARES AND ENGINES FOR PEOPLE WHO DON'T KNOW HOW TO CODE!!!

Ren'py (and also a link to it if you click here do it): THE visual novel software. Comic artists, look no further ✨Pros: It's free! It's simple! It has great documentation! It has a bunch of plugins and UI stuff and assets for you to buy! It can be used even if you have LITERALLY no programming experience! (You'll just need to read the doc a bunch) You can also port your game to a BUNCH of consoles! ✨Cons: None really <3 Some games to look at: Doki Doki Literature Club, Bad End Theater, Butterfly Soup

Twine: Great for text-based games! GREAT FOR WRITERS WHO DONT WANNA DRAW!!!!!!!!! (but you can draw if you want) ✨Pros: It's free! It's simple! It's versatile! It has great documentation! It can be used even if you have LITERALLY no programming experience! (You'll just need to read the doc a bunch) ✨Cons: You can add pictures, but it's a pain. Some games to look at: The Uncle Who Works For Nintendo, Queers In love At The End of The World, Escape Velocity

Bitsy: Little topdown games! ✨Pros: It's free! It's simple! It's (somewhat) intuitive! It has great documentation! It can be used even if you have LITERALLY no programming experience! You can make everything in it, from text to sprites to code! Those games sure are small! ✨Cons: Those games sure are small. This is to make THE simplest game. Barely any animation for your sprites, can barely fit a line of text in there. But honestly, the restrictions are refreshing! Some games to look at: honestly I haven't played that many bitsy games because i am a fake gamer. The picture above is from Under A Star Called Sun though and that looks so pretty

RPGMaker: To make RPGs! LIKE ME!!!!! NOTE: I recommend getting the latest version if you can, but all have their pros and cons. You can get a better idea by looking at this post. ✨Pros: Literally everything you need to make an RPG. Has a tutorial inside the software itself that will teach you the basics. Pretty simple to understand, even if you have no coding experience! Also I made a post helping you out with RPGMaker right here! ✨Cons: Some stuff can be hard to figure out. Also, the latest version is expensive. Get it on sale! Some games to look at: Yume Nikki, Hylics, In Stars and Time (hehe. I made it)

engine.lol: collage worlds! it is relatively new so I don't know much about it, but it seems fascinating. picture is from Garden! NOTE: There's a bunch of smaller engines to find out there. Just yesterday I found out there's an Idle Game Maker made by the Cookie Clicker creator. Isn't life wonderful?

✨more advice under the cut. this is Long ok✨

ENGINES I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT AND THEY SEEM HARD BUT ALSO GIVE IT A TRY I GUESS!!!! :

Unity and Unreal: I don't know anything about those! That looks hard to learn! But indie devs use them! It seems expensive! Follow your dreams though! Don't ask me how!

GameMaker: Wuh I just don't know anything about it either! I just know it's now free if your game is non-commercial (aka, you're not selling it), and Undertale was made on it! It seems good! You probably need some coding experience though!!!

Godot: Man I know even less about this one. Heard good things though!

BUNCHA RANDOM ADVICE!!!!

-Make something small first! Try making simple: a character is in a room, and exits the room. The character can look around, decide to take an item with them, can leave, and maybe the door is locked and you have to find the key. Figuring out how to code something like that, whether it is as a fully text-based game or as an RPGMaker map, should be a good start to figure out how your software of choice works!

-After that, if you have an idea, try first to make the simplest version of that idea. For my timeloop RPG, my simplest version was two rooms: first room you can walk in, second room with the King, where a cutscene automatically plays and the battle starts, you immediately die, and loop back to the first room, with the text from this point on reflecting this change. I think I also added a loop counter. This helped me figure out the most important thing: Can This Game Be Made? After that, the rest is just fun stuff. So if you want to make a dating sim, try and figure out how to add choices, and how to have affection points go up and down depending on your choices! If you want to make a platformer, figure out how to make your character move and jump and how to create a simple level! If you just want to make a kinetic visual novel with no choices, figure out how to add text, and how to add portraits! You'll be surprised at how powerful you'll feel after having figured even those simple things out.

-If you have a programming problem or just get confused, never underestimate the power of asking Google! You most likely won't be the only person asking this question, and you will learn some useful tips! If you are powerful enough, you can even… Ask people??? On forums??? Not me though.

-Yeah I know you probably want to make Your Big Idea RIGHT NOW but please. Make a smaller prototype first. You need to get that experience. Trust me.

-If you are not a womanthing of many skills like me, you might realize you need help. Maybe you need an artist, or a programmer. So! Game jams on itch.io are a great way to get to work and meet other game devs that have different strengths! Or ask around! Maybe your artist friend secretly always wanted to draw for a game. Ask! Collaborate! Have fun!!!

I hope that was useful! If it was. Maybe. You'd like to buy me a coffee. Or maybe you could check out my comics and games. Or just my new critically acclaimed game In Stars and Time. If you want. Ok bye

[nexus-nebulae]

been debating back and forth as to whether i could possibly be dyslexic (i know im at least dyscalculic) because of specific typos and reading blunders i make but like. OpenDyslexic is impossible for me to read. like my eyes just glaze over and stop trying

[kurooh]

DOUBLE FANTASY ★ JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. featuring threesomes with gojo satoru + geto suguru, nanami kento + higuruma hiromi, shiu kong + fushiguro toji, tsukumo yuki + kamo choso.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, f! reader, threesomes, oral [m&f rec], spit roasting, double penetration, some degradation, choking, rough sex, squirting, sharing a cigarette, spit, clit slaps. | 4.5K words of FILTH

xoxo, juno. comment & rb if you enjoyed <3 !

GOJO & GETO.

perhaps letting your two roommates take care of you after a messy breakup wasn’t a good idea—or is it? less than an hour ago, you’d come home sobbing, cheeks wet with tears and eyes puffy.

satoru and suguru had pulled you into a tight hug, internally thankful you’d broken things off with that asshole (they’d hated when he would come around) but also sympathetic towards you. it was a tough choice, which was then promptly celebrated over margaritas and shots on the couch. one thing led to another, and before you knew it, you were pressed flush against suguru’s strong chest, body sweltering with need hotter than a fire.

“s-sugu, i don’t think you can both fit inside.”

“not with that attitude, sweetheart,” suguru murmurs, hands settling on your hips as he places a small kiss to your cheek. “come now, anything’s possible if you believe in it.”

“bleh, you sound like confucius,” satoru fake gags dramatically, lining his cock up with his best friend’s. their sticky tips prod at your folds, and your heart races faster, rattling around in your ribcage so loudly you can hear it in your ears. although you’re a little nervous, the alcohol you’ve had helps to take the edge away; you impatiently wiggle your hips forward.

“i’m sorry . . ? do you even know who confucius is?” suguru asks incredulously, flicking his bangs to the side with a jerk of his head.

“i’ve seen you read enough of—”

“don’t do this right now,” you plead, voice whiny. “just fuck me already.”

“now, honey. you’ll have plenty of time to slut yourself out for us, don’t you worry.”

“nah, she’s right,” satoru quips, wrapping his hand around their cocks. suguru inhales sharply, unintentionally jerking his hips forward for more. “you ready for us, babe?”

you nod weakly, and the three of you moan in unison as satoru pushes their cocks inside you. it’s slow at first, but the stretch is one that you’ll remember for a lifetime—the burn of being split open on two cocks melts into something euphoric as each inch passes your entrance. satoru groans hungrily, his head falling back. snowy tufts of hair obscure his diamond blue eyes that he tightly squeezes shut, and a huff of breath leaves his lips.

suguru kisses your jaw, fingers trailing along the slopes of your body before finally sweeping over the delicate skin of your throat. you breath hitches when he whispers into your ear: “we’d always hear you begging to be choked harder. don’t you remember that, satoru?”

“hngh, yeah,” he swallows hard at the memory—he and his best friend always heard everything through those paper thin walls. they’d heard your dissatisfaction and vowed to satiate you someday. “and you’d always be going deeper, deeper!”

your cheeks burn with embarrassment. had your roommates really heard everything? how did they face you so easily in the morning after being kept awake each night?

“we’ll give you everything, sweetheart.”

suguru squeezes your throat experimentally, and the corners of his lips lift when you release a moan you’d been holding back for far too long. he and his best friend slowly start to move, rocking their hips into you and developing a smooth tempo.

“both of you are so fucking big,” you mewl, back bowing off of suguru’s chest. they’re filling you up and stretching you out and just as you think it can’t get any better, satoru’s nimble fingers wander to your clit. he curiously toys with it, eyes darkening lustfully once you react how he’d been hoping you would.

“perfect size just for you,” suguru coos, yanking you down by the throat. “satoru, spank her a little.”

he obliges, reading his best friend’s mind easily—a stinging slap lands on your clit, sending prickling shocks of pleasure through your body. the tips of their cocks kiss your cervix, pushing so deep you can’t seem to breathe. satoru gifts your swollen, sensitive clit with slap after slap; the force behind each one only increases until you’re crying freely.

but you’re not begging him to stop, you’re begging him for more.

“god, i always knew you were a fucking slut,” satoru chokes out, pausing to lick some of your slick off his palm. your stomach flips around at the simple action, something hot flashing through you when he closes his eyes momentarily and savors the taste. “finally . . got you to myself.”

then he looks at suguru, who rolls his eyes. “well, for the most part.”

“no need to sound so excited,” he deadpans, huffing beneath you. “as if you’d fuck any better than that damn ex boyfriend.”

satoru scoffs in disbelief, slapping your clit with renewed strength. his hips are still moving, still burying his cock and suguru’s inside you deeper. they’ve got you entirely stuffed—maybe this would be better than some turkey on thanksgiving. your clit throbs with each punishing slap, but your eyes still roll back each time. while they bicker, your oxygen deprived brain spins with arousal and tipsiness. you shudder, going still and barely even managing to warn them of what’s about to happen.

“fuck, i’m gonna—‘m cumming,” you sob, sounding fragile just before you’re about to break. flashes of heat chase their way through you, until they finally explode out of you, in the form of a soaking orgasm. out of patterned habit, satoru’s palm smacks your puffy clit, which only prolongs your intoxicating high further. the intense contractions inadvertently push their cocks a few inches out of you, and your cum splashes on their skin, eliciting pleased groans from them both.

“baby, did you just—”

“she did, satoru,” suguru confirms, biting back a moan.

“i don’t even—i don’t know what happened,” you pant, hissing when someone’s tip bumps against your twitching clit.

“‘s called squirting,” satoru supplies, entranced as he stares at your messy cunt. a mixture of slick and cum coats your inner thighs, and he can’t help but swipe a finger across your skin and then stick it into his mouth. he releases it with a pop, and eyes suguru knowingly.

his voice is now raspy, thick with desire. “let’s make it happen again, sweetheart. we can take turns, of course. but my face comes before satoru’s.”

NANAMI & HIGURUMA.

the smooth oak wood surface of higuruma’s desk is littered with papers hastily swept to the side, and the fabric of your skirt fans out over a few of them. pens and other stationary supplies are forgotten on the floor, along with your now wrinkled blouse.

“h-holy shit—‘romi, right there! just like that.”

“one can only hope that this’ll be enough luck to carry us through the trial,” higuruma grunts, nails digging crescent shaped indents into the fat of your ass. he’s gripping you tightly, chest heaving rapidly as he vigorously fucks his cock deeper.

“ah, hiromi,” nanami huffs, pushing a few stray hairs away from his forehead. they’d escaped their neatly gelled place on his head when the three of you had rushed into higuruma’s office to discuss the final procedures before your trial. “don’t be a downer . . . this is more than lucky. we’ll win, of course.”

you sob, clawing at higuruma’s shoulders. he’d discarded his suit jacket long ago, carefully folded it on one of his bookshelves so as not to ruin the cuffs and smoothness of the fabric. now, he’s rolled the sleeves of his white shirt all the way up to his elbows, and his loosened black tie swings in your face with each of his thrusts.

“wait, hiromi,” your clammy hand pushes against his stomach insistently, “s-slow down, it’s too much, i—”

higuruma looks toward nanami for instruction, and the latter simply pauses stroking his cock. he stands, pushing back the spinning chair he’d been sitting on, and steps toward the edge of the desk. a sheen of sweat covers your forehead and disrupts the smoothness of your makeup, but nanami doesn’t take much pity on you—instead, he lightly slaps your cheek.

“need me to show you too much, angel?” his voice is low and dark, words laced with a throaty rasp that has your pussy squeezing higuruma’s cock. nanami’s eyebrow raises as he pushes your thighs apart to take a look at the mess between them.

“seems to me like she wants you to,” higuruma nods toward your pussy, then loosens his tie and collar further. “after my turn, of course.”

nanami grunts in agreement, settling on the edge of the desk beside your head instead of the chair. the desk creaks weakly from the newly added weight, and for a moment the idea of it collapsing beneath the three of you crosses your mind. higuruma snaps his hips forward, unconsciously licking the sweat away from his upper lip when he starts up.

your hand lamely pushes against his stomach again, but he shakes his head and nanami reacts immediately, intertwining his fingers with yours and slamming your hand down on the wood. whimpers leave your lips and the air is punched out of your lungs with each of higuruma’s strong thrusts; he’s so deep you can practically feel him in your chest.

“ken, i need—my clit,” you gasp, back bowing off the desk fruitlessly. your hips twist and jerk away from higuruma’s cock, for fear of being split open. “touch my clit, i need to cum—”

nanami slaps your cheek again, and your eyes roll back at the penalizing sting. “hiromi, you hear that? she wants to cum.” he mocks your words, then turns back to you, hazel eyes burning holes into your own. “and how do good girls ask to cum, baby? certainly not the way you just did.”

“‘m sorry,” you mewl, and higuruma slaps your clit and makes you shudder. “p-please, i wanna cum for you—i’ve been a good girl!”

“hm, hiromi? you think she’s been a good girl?”

you look up at higuruma pleadingly, tears gathered in your lashes and sparkling in the light. you’ve got that blissed out and dumb look on your face, completely at peace with being thrown around and shared between them.

“sluts take it,” he groans, teeth sinking into his lower lip hard. he yanks your body closer, further bullying his cock inside you. “‘nd you’ve been running from me—isn’t that right, babygirl?”

nanami clicks his tongue, and pinches one of your hardened nipples between his fingers. he looks down at you nicely, cheeks pink and hair mussed.

“maybe i’ll let you cum when it’s my turn,” he huffs, a small smile playing on his lips when you weakly moan his name as if he’ll give you permission. “for now, you’ll have to beg. now, go on and open wide, baby.”

the moment your lips part, nanami spits onto your tongue; he watches you expectantly and nodding in acceptance when you swallow, drunk on the taste of his peppermint gum.

“that’s right,” higuruma backs him up, looking down his nose at you expectantly. “speak now or forever hold your orgasm, sweetheart.”

TOJI & SHIU.

“so, princess, still up for lunch later?” shiu grunts around a chuckle, passing the lit cigarette to toji. the latter accepts it with a scoff, rolling his jade green eyes as he sticks it between his lips.

“yes,” you and toji answer at the same time, but your voice is muffled on shiu’s cock.

toji gifts your ass with a slap and exhales the smoke, handing the cigarette back to shiu with a glare. his once stagnant hips begin to move again, almost as if he’s rejuvenated from his little smoke break. shiu only laughs, cupping the crown of your head in order to ease his cock further down your throat.

“i’m surprised you’ve got the money for that, toji,” shiu teases, exhaling sharply when the tip of his cock bumps into your uvula and makes you gag. your throat constricts around his length and you let out a muffled whine in reaction to the stretch.

“you crazy or sum’n?” toji snaps, choosing to argue with his best friend while he’s balls deep inside you. his harsh thrusts make your pussy squelch, and shiu’s cum from earlier spills out onto the bedsheets below. “of course i’ve got the fuckin’ money for lunch, but you’re gonna be the one paying, dumbass.”

his fingers find your swollen clit and he pinches it, making you gasp around shiu’s cock. you choke, gagging so hard tears pool in your eyes—shiu strokes your head comfortingly as you pull off his cock, coughing hard.

“you okay, babygirl?” and he looks at toji disapprovingly, but he only continues to fuck you. the blunt head of his cock kisses your cervix lightly with each thrust, and when he feels like he’s not going deep enough, he lifts your hips to pull you back. “toji, that was mean.”

“mean . . ? shiu, my girl can fuckin’ handle it. ain’t that right, baby?” he looks to you for confirmation, quirking a brow while the scarred corner of his lip curves into a smirk.

this whole mess had started when you’d spent a night in with toji, watching movies and taking shots every now and then. you’d gotten drunk, swaying on your feet and giggling as you’d pointed to the tv screen dazedly.

“oh, toji, look! that guy looks like shiu!”

he could see the resemblance, and grunted, “damn, he does. ugly just like him too.”

“shiu isn’t ugly!” you jumped up drunkenly to defend his best friend’s appearance, waving your arms around dramatically. “he’s very good looking, actually.”

“oh, really? he doesn’t have any muscle, though.”

“toji, don’t be silly,” you laughed at your boyfriend, “‘course he does, it’s just under all those clothes of his. if he took ‘em off, you’d know what i mean!”

“so you got a crush on shiu?” toji asked in disbelief, his cheeks flaring a deeper pink as he took another vodka shot. “aw, i should let him know.”

one thing led to another, and shiu had come over for breakfast. then your little crush had gotten out, and a bet was placed—who could fuck you better? the condition for the loser was then set in place: whoever lost would buy lunch for the three of you without question.

“y-yeah, toji,” you mumble, forehead pressing into shiu’s pelvis weakly. he’d been the first to fuck you, and now it’s toji’s turn with your pussy—you’re sure you won’t walk smoothly ever again.

“can’t hear you,” toji taunts, lifting your hips and yanking you back onto his cock. the new angle forces him deeper, stretching your cunt out even further. “wanna repeat that for me, doll?”

“ngh, f-fuck,” you moan, eyes rolling back. his cock slams into that sweet, sensitive spot that’s deep inside you, and the tears that had been building in your eyes finally pour down your cheeks. the mascara and eye makeup you’d worn for the breakfast smears against shiu’s skin and makes messy tracks down your face. he curiously slips a finger beneath your chin to make you look up at him.

“aw, baby. i really can’t wait to hear who fucked you better . . . my back certainly wasn’t cracking as much as his is.”

“shut it, shiu,” toji groans, savoring the broken moans that freely leave your lips—gasping ah’s and whines that you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. “hand me the fuckin’ cig.”

shiu obliges, chuckling softly when he notices you pawing around his thighs in search of his cock. you whimper when you finally get his tip back in your mouth (with his guidance), slowly taking him in inch by inch. he groans, tossing his head back when he finally bumps into the back of your throat.

“m-mind if i fuck your mouth, doll face?” he asks, thighs twitching expectantly. a vein in toji’s forehead bulges at the way he steals his pet name for you.

you shake your head shyly, blinking slowly while toji fucks every single thought out of your head. he’s deliberately holding himself back so you’ll go dumb on his cock, unable to scream anything but his name. yes, this is how he’ll show shiu who can fuck—show him that you’re his girl, his doll face.

tendrils of smoke waft over your break before dissipating in the air as if they were never there. you shudder as toji’s fingers reach your clit, rubbing sloppy circles on the sensitive nub even though your hips rear away. you still haven’t recovered from the overstimulation shiu caused with both his tongue and fingers, but that’s okay. he’ll have you cumming on his cock regardless.

with a deep groan, shiu cups the back of your head to keep you steady, and he shoves his hips forward, his cock slamming far down your throat. you gag, but he’s merciless—doesn’t give you more than a second to breathe before he’s at it again, setting a brutal pace that matches toji’s.

“ugh, fuck—want ya to cum on this cock for me, doll,” he groans, starting to slap his fingers against your clit. your legs kick out in reaction, and you hump your hips back against his hand. toji’s fucked you so hard you can’t even feel shiu’s cum dripping out of you anymore; he’s seconds away from replacing it with his own thick load and having you hold it inside you during lunch.

you nod dumbly on shiu’s cock, starting to sob louder as your own orgasm hurtles toward you. the high is absolutely inescapable, and your watery eyes meet shiu’s when you tip your head up. to the best of his abilities, he’s sweetly talking you through it, his words jumbled although you manage to hear a few clearly.

“how ‘bout we all cum together?” he suggests, wiping a stray tear from your face with the pad of his thumb as if he wasn’t the one that caused it.

“whatever, just as long she does first,” toji warns, his husky voice carrying a tenderness that only you can hear. “got that, shiu?”

like a cheshire cat, he smiles in response, sticking the worn down cigarette between his lips. he takes a drag and thrusts as deeply as he can go before holding your head down at his pelvis. you can hear his quiet moan beneath the clapping of skin against skin and all the other noise; his cock shoots ribbons of white down your throat and he shudders when you swallow it all eagerly, looking up at him for more.

toji throbs against your cervix, and he grabs your asscheek in one of his hands to tug and slap at. “‘m gonna cum, shit . . . wouldn’t ever wanna cum outside of this pretty pussy.”

his fingers work your clit until you’re arching your back and crying out, gushing on toji’s cock with no end in sight. wetness sprays against his pelvis and abs, and he groans, fucking you through it.

“such a mess, doll,” he groans, slipping a hand around your throat and pulling you off shiu’s cock. he instead pins you against his muscular chest, looking over your shoulder through hooded eyes at shiu, who hasn’t gone soft yet. “fuckin’ love it, though.”

toji places a few wet kisses to your neck, moving close to your ear. “so, doll face? where’s lunch gonna be? shiu’s treat, of course.”

YUKI & CHOSO.

“c’mon, you don’t really plan to just sit and watch us, do you?” yuki pushes her blonde bangs away from her forehead with an enchanting smile playing on her lips. she playfully tilts her head to the side, eyeing choso and his seated form.

“well, i . . . you said you’d teach me,” he offers lamely, his reddened cheeks only darkening. he catches your eyes on him too and awkwardly crosses his legs, trying to hide the tent in his pants.

when you’d finally had enough of your boyfriend’s ineducable inexperience, you’d decided to bite the bullet and ask your best friend. yuki had been receptive from the start, her eyes gleaming while you’d explained the situation to a willing choso.

“oh, you won’t learn anything from over there,” she laughs, waving him over to the empty space beside her on the bed. “y’know, sex is pretty hands on.”

choso settles beside her, and the bedframe creaks as it accommodates the new weight. his fingers are trembling as they brush over the tender skin of your inner thighs, and his eyes widen when they come close to your dripping pussy. slick is smeared all over your skin and shining in the low light, utterly enticing to the both of them.

yuki spreads your legs further, and you draw in a sharp breath, lower lip slipping between your teeth.

“come closer,” she coos, pointing at your clit with a smirk. “that’s her clit . . . ‘s the secret to the female orgasm, choso. go on, give her a lick.”

without question, choso adjusts himself so he’s on his stomach, and he experimentally licks your clit. his silky tongue is flexed and nervous, dipping down further to taste the wetness trickling from your slit.

“f-fuck, choso,” you cry, insides lurching deliciously at the feeling. one look at yuki—her cheeks are colored pink, tongue unconsciously darting out occasionally to sweep over her lower lip—and another at choso, whose movements are gradually becoming more insistent, has a sweltering heat coiling deep in your stomach.

your hips jerk forward, pelvic bone nearly nailing him in the bridge of his nose, and choso’s head rears back in concern. “‘m sorry, are you—”

“our girl’s loving it,” yuki hisses, not even missing a beat as she cups the crown of his head, manicured nails digging into your boyfriend’s scalp as she forces his head back down. he doesn’t resist, letting out a muffled moan when his face lands directly in your pussy. slick smears across the lower half of his face and he feels the saliva pool on his tongue from how hungry he is.

choso’s nose bumps into your swollen clit, and a pitched whine tears from your throat. “need—i need more, please,” yuki settles onto her stomach beside choso, palm leaving his head. her fingers impatiently push past his chin, stroking lightly against your dripping pussy, and she quietly moans in delight.

you watch slack jawed as yuki pushes her fingers into her mouth, and her eyes squeeze shut. her hips grind against the bed, sheets rustling softly beneath her body. choso’s too caught up to notice, dark strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

“cho—ah, shit—use your fingers, baby.”

your boyfriend obliges obediently, carefully pushing his fingers inside you and tugging back to let yuki take over with her mouth.

that heat inside you ignites into an inferno the second her mouth finds your clit. her lips lightly wrap around it and her tongue sweeps over the swollen bud; to tease you a little further, she lets her teeth occasionally nibble at it.

“this what you wanted?” choso pants, voice lilting curiously as his eyes rake over your body. he’s always been rather shameless when it comes to looking you over, but after this, he’ll finally be able to back it up with a hundred percent. the heave of your chest and parting of your bitten lips is enough of an answer, but he wants to hear it from you. his fingers curl inside you, pressing into a spot that scratches the unbearable itch in your brain perfectly.

“y-yes, cho!” and you’ve got stars in your eyes, feeling an unfamiliar pressure straining in your lower abdomen. “wanna—wanna cum on your face, please.”

“you heard her,” yuki quirks a brow, thumb working your clit in place of her tongue. she’s got a wildness in her eyes, with the lower half of her face sticky like choso’s. “let’s make our pretty girl cum together, hm?”

choso flushes all the way to his neck but nods, his two fingers pushing deeply over and over. a small sting accommodates the stretch, but is quickly forgotten when their faces push against one another’s in their rush for a taste. your slick is sweet like ambrosia, and they’re far too greedy to take turns with your cunt.

your clammy fingers push into yuki’s flowing tresses, while your other hand cups the crown of choso’s head and pushes him impossibly closer. her moans are softer than his as she finds your clit again, licking desperately, almost as if she’s begging you to cum.

meanwhile, choso places a hand above your pelvic bone, palm pressing into the soft skin—you’d mentioned that fingering wasn’t fingering without that small detail and he hasn’t forgotten it since—and it’s becoming difficult to breathe without panting. whiny moans fill the spaces in between your babbled words of bliss, and yuki knows that she won’t be able to get enough of you once this is over.

“ooh, fuck,” you sob, nearly choking on your words when your back uncontrollably arches off the bed. your fingers tighten in her hair and your nails scratch against choso’s scalp, making a mess of his once neatly tied buns. “yuki, ‘m so close, can’t hold it—”

she’d known what had been coming the moment you’d asked for choso’s fingers. she’s unable to stop herself from smiling against your clit, and choso’s tongue bumps into her own as he fights for a piece of you too. he’d initially been all for this so he could learn how to make you tick, what you really meant when you’d beg for his mouth.

his skin is hot as it pushes against hers, their cheeks puffing up a little as they fight for dominance over your clit. they’re shaking their heads all too much, and choso’s grunting while yuki does too, sending vibrations through your already sensitive clit. that pressure burns through your body, and your legs begin to tremble on either side of them as it grows more intense.

“hmph—cum for us, pretty girl.”

similarly, choso tugs away for a moment and lets out a huff, pressing down hard while his fingertips push into your sweet spot, “let us taste it, baby.”

their simple words do the trick, and with a gasp, your pussy begins to gush waterfalls right onto their faces. yuki eagerly slurps up the slick and cum from your cunt, with no regard for the way it’s still fluttering sensitively. choso barely gets a taste, only getting the tip of his tongue wet, and he pulls back with an annoyed scoff.

“yuki, that’s—”

“y-yuki!” you interrupt, voice breaking as you pathetically try to writhe away from her. with choso sitting back, she’s able to grab you by the hips and drag you close, insistently licking you through the dizzying high. “‘s too much, wait—choso!”

“yuki,” he scolds with a shake of his head, but makes no move to pull her away. honestly, if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to. “that’s no fair, i didn’t even get a taste. and she’s my girl.” choso’s words are pointed and a little whiny, and yuki just rolls her eyes.

“then come here ‘n try again. just look at her, she’s dying for more . . aren’t ya, pretty?”

[maxbegone]

The election doesn’t start tomorrow, it ends tomorrow.

If you haven’t already, please make sure you are registered to vote and know where your polling place is (vote.org is a great and easy way to get that information). Additionally, please make sure you have a way to get to your polling place. Uber and Lyft often give free or discounted rides to the polls, and this year the car rental company, Hertz, is allowing free one-day rentals to get to the polls. More information on that here.

EDIT: NAACP has a discount code to use for Lyft, valid for two rides up to $20 ($40 total). Use code: NAACPVOTE24

The following states allow same day registration for general elections, ie: the presidential election:

California

Colorado

Washington DC

Hawaii

Idaho

Illinois

Iowa

Maine

Maryland

Michigan

Minnesota

Montana

Nevada

New Hampshire

New Mexico

Utah

Vermont

Virginia

Washington

Wisconsin

Wyoming

Note: North Dakota does not require formal voter registration, and upon presenting valid identification at a polling place, eligible citizens receive their ballot to vote.

all info here

The following states are required by law to give you time off to vote (between one and three hours):

Alabama

Alaska

Arizona

Arkansas

California

Colorado

Georgia

Illinois

Iowa

Kansas

Kentucky

Maryland

Massachusetts

Minnesota

Missouri

Nebraska

Nevada

New Mexico

New York

Ohio

Oklahoma

South Dakota

Tennessee

Texas

Utah

West Virginia

Wisconsin

Wyoming

*Most states requiring employers to permit voting leave also require that this time is paid. Among the above, the following do not: Alabama, Arkansas, Georgia, Massachusetts, North Dakota. (info here)

Again, it is your right to vote. If you are in line when the polls close, stay in line. It is your legal right to vote.

If you are turned away at the polls, say the following verbatim: “Give me a provisional ballot with a receipt as required by law.”

If you make a mistake on your ballot, you have the right to ask for a new ballot. Don’t cross anything out, simply ask for a new one.

Poll workers are required to make reasonable accommodations for voters who need, including ballots in other languages or translators.

Canvassing is not allowed at polling places, and no one is allowed to threaten or intimidate voters. You have the right to report anything of the like.

All info taken from here

Some tips:

Don’t wear political merch to the polls.

Don’t engage with anyone about your politics at the polls.

Don’t take phone calls inside your polling place — it can wait, please be respectful.

Research who is running locally and see what their policies are. Additionally, research any local propositions that may be on the ballot. The language on ballots is made to be purposefully confusing, so make sure you read everything carefully in addition to your research.

If you’re able to get up early on Election Day, go right when your polling place opens to beat the line.

REMEMBER: IT IS YOUR RIGHT TO VOTE!

Here are a list of state-by-state voter protection hotlines, as well as hotlines in various other languages:

Please vote tomorrow if you have not already. It’s so important, and choosing not to vote or voting for a third party is a vote for extremist measures. Vote down the ballot, and do not let anyone bully you into voting one certain way.

What we are seeing throughout this election cycle (and the last two election cycles) is entirely abnormal. The bullying we see from a certain side and its supporters is childish and dangerous. They spew false information, make racist remarks, and sexualize and discriminate fellow candidates. No single presidential candidate is completely and wholly good, so criticize accordingly.

Vote with those you love in mind, vote with your safety in mind, and vote for those who will be affected for decades to come. Vote for someone who speaks coherently, not for someone who is, let’s be honest, not cognitively alright — and that is the bare minimum of the issue.

If you have anything to add to this post, please do. If anything is incorrect, please let me know and I will gladly change it.

Vote. Vote. Vote.

[yuujispinkhair]

College Boy!Sukuna accidentally knocking you up

A while ago, I saw a post that asked which of our faves accidentally knocks us up, and I answered it with "CollegeBoy!Sukuna." So here is the fic about that ;)

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. College AU. Light angst with a happy end. 2k words. Pregnancy, mentions of Sukuna smoking a cigarette. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider@/plutism + dollsciples

"Damn, princess, how long does that shitty thing need?"

Sukuna has dropped his usual act of aloofness. For once, there is no teasing comment coming out of his mouth, no arrogant smirk, no flirty wink, and no charming look out of those beautiful maroon eyes. Your usually so arrogant and tough bad boy is scared shitless.

For the last few minutes, he has been playing with his tongue-piercing continuously, driving you almost insane with the constant noise of the metal barbell connecting with Sukuna's teeth. But you can't blame him. You are even more nervous than Sukuna.

You lean closer to the old couch table again, looking at the pregnancy test that's lying there, and your stomach twists painfully. There's a change now. A second line has appeared on the little test strip. You feel your heart drop.

The alarm on your phone goes off right at that moment, making you jump as you grab the test with shaky fingers. Holding the sheet with the instructions in the other hand, you read them feverishly as if you haven't already learned them by heart. As if you don't already know what the two lines mean!

Sukuna leans across the table, too,

"What does it say?"

But you only hear his voice muffled as if you are underwater. You stare at the two lines on the pregnancy test, feeling your head spin. Sukuna's large hand darts out and wraps around your trembling wrist, pulling your hand and the test towards him while repeating his question more urgently this time.

But you can't say anything and just throw the test in Sukuna's lap. He grabs it and stares at it, his maroon eyes going wide as comprehension dawns on his beautiful, tattooed face.

"Fuck."

That's all he says, and then he looks at you with wide eyes, shock and fear written all over his face. He looks younger somehow, like a scared little boy. His lips open, but no words come out. He closes them again and gulps hard.

And then Sukuna gets up from the couch and practically bolts from the small living room, walking so fast that he has reached the apartment door before you even realize what he's doing.

His large hand is already on the door handle, pushing it open when your mind finally catches up with what is going on, and you feel like tumbling into darkness.

Sukuna is going to run, isn't he? Of course, he's going to leave! Of course, a guy like him is only interested in having fun but no responsibility! Of course, he will always stay the bad boy who just likes to party and fuck and do whatever the hell he wants! And a pregnant girlfriend is the last thing he needs!

Your hands ball into fists. You're about to scream at him or cry or break down.

But before you can do any of that, Sukuna stops in the doorway.

He is standing there with his back to you, so tall that his hair is almost brushing against the doorframe. You watch him fumble ungracefully with his cigarettes in a way that is completely untypical for him, nearly dropping the pack and needing several tries to light a cigarette before he brings it to his lips with a shaky hand and takes a deep drag.

You let out a slow breath, slumping back against the couch.

He didn't leave.

Sukuna turns his head slowly to look at you over his broad shoulder. Suddenly, his eyes widen, and he bangs the door shut and quickly strides back to the small living area, bending down to hastily stub his cigarette out in the ashtray on the couch table.

"Shit, I forgot that I shouldn't smoke when you are...," he stops mid-sentence, and his eyes wander to your belly, "when you are... ah fuck..."

Sukuna runs a trembling, tattooed hand through his pink hair. You both stare at each other for a long moment, both unable to say the words out loud. But your mind screams them at you:

Pregnant. You are pregnant with Sukuna's baby!

You have no idea how it even happened. Were Sukuna and you not careful enough? Maybe too horny and too drunk after one of the various parties you went to? Did a condom rip, and you didn't realize it? Maybe if it was any other month, things would have gone differently, but you had exams and were in a constant state of stress. You simply didn't have the mind to worry about anything else but studying and then fucking like bunnies for stress relief!

You feel so stupid. You were always so sure that something like this would never happen to you. An accidental pregnancy was something that only happened to those girls in those trashy reality TV shows!

Well, now look at you.

Pregnant from your college sweetheart, the bad boy with the face tattoos. The guy you are head over heels in love with but who you didn't even dare bring home to your parents yet because they took one look at a picture of the two of you, saw Sukuna's tattooed face and his pink hair, and deemed him a troublemaker who will only drag their sweet daughter into the gutter with him. And now he even managed to accidentally knock you up, and it will just be the cherry on top!

Finally, the tears spill over, and a sob escapes your trembling lips. Instinctively, you hug yourself, but your arms get pushed away just a second later, when Sukuna is pulling you to your feet and into his strong, tattooed arms, pulling you against him, holding you so tight you find it hard to breathe.

His lips press against your forehead, leaving little kisses and murmuring against your skin,

"I am sorry for almost running out that door like a fucking coward. I'm sorry, baby."

"It's ok, Kuna. You stopped and came back. That's what counts. But... I... I am so scared."

You sniffle and press yourself against Sukuna's tall, muscular body, seeking the comfort of his broad chest and his strong arms, which feel like home, letting your tears soak Sukuna's t-shirt that smells like him, like cigarette smoke and cherry blossoms and his typical sexy cologne.

Sukuna's arms tighten around you, and he makes a choked-up sound that you have never heard from him before. You feel him gulp hard, and then he speaks up in that low, velvety voice that sounds so much more serious than ever before,

"I promise I won't run. We're in this together. I got scared, too, because I am not the dad type of guy. I don't even have any idea how a dad is supposed to be because I've never had one. I mean, fuck! I am a mess! I don't even know what I want apart from living in the moment, having fun, being with you, and spending time with my brother. But you're my girl, and I'll be damned if I leave you alone with this! I won't run, princess, I promise."

You hear a strange noise, only to realize that it is coming from your own mouth, a strangled sob. You snuggle closer against Sukuna's chest, hiding your face in his t-shirt, clinging desperately to him, overwhelmed with the situation. But he is there for you. He rests his chin on top of your head and holds you, swaying you slightly from side to side.

His low voice is calm when he asks,

"Do you want to keep it?"

"I... I didn't even have the right mind to think about it yet."

Sukuna nods, and his arms tighten around you,

"It's ok. Take your time. If you want to get rid of it, then I will drive you to the hospital and take care of you afterward. And if you decide to have the baby... then I will be a dad. I never imagined myself with a kid, but this is different. This is our baby. And I know what it's like to grow up without parents. I don't want that for my child. My grandpa did a pretty good job with Yuuji and me before he became sick, but it's not the same as having a mom and a dad, I think. I won't let that happen to our kid."

You let out a shaky breath, feeling a huge weight leave your shoulders at Sukuna's reassurance. You can see things a bit clearer now. And maybe it's not as hopeless as you thought.

Technically, you are old enough to be a mom, and you could just pause your studies for a semester or two and then return to your classes. Of course, things won't be as carefree anymore, and you will have a huge responsibility. On top of that, you really have no idea what life with a baby will be like. But you know now that you won't be alone with it.

You will have the boy you love by your side. No, you correct yourself, not the boy you love, but the man you love. Because the way Sukuna reacted so maturely and responsibly showed you that he isn't a boy anymore. He is a man. Your man. And you are even beginning to be able to imagine him as a dad. He is doing a pretty decent job as Yuuji's brother, too, after all, isn't he? Sure, Yuuji is the same age as Sukuna, but Sukuna still always acts like the big brother. So protective and caring, in a grumpy way, but sweet nonetheless.

Suddenly, the thought of a miniature version of Sukuna running around doesn't seem so scary anymore. You catch yourself wondering what your baby would look like if you decide to have it. Will it have Sukuna's eyes?

You lift your head to look up at him, and Sukuna's gaze meets yours. He looks deeply into your eyes, almost making you nervous with how intense those beautiful maroon eyes look at you,

"If you want to keep it, I will make damn sure you and the kid have it good. I promise you, princess. I am not going to run like some loser. I will learn everything about taking care of a child and how to be a dad and get my shit together. I will even stop smoking. I just... I love you, and this will be our little family, and I will fucking protect it with my life! We will make this work. We can move in together. We can ask Yuuji to babysit, and I can take the little gremlin to classes with me. I had someone do that in my history class, you know? Had his ugly little brat in a baby carrier. I could do that, too. Only difference is that our baby will be super pretty, of course."

You chuckle softly despite the shock, a mix of a sob and a laugh, feeling lighter now that you know your boyfriend will be there for you.

"I love you too, Sukuna. Thank you."

"No need to thank me. We will get through this together, no matter what you decide."

You snuggle against Sukuna's tall, muscular body and smile shakily up at him, sure that your pupils must have transformed into little hearts from the way your chest feels as if it's overflowing with love for your boyfriend. Your arrogant, rude, bad boy of a boyfriend, who, deep down, is such a good guy for the people he loves.

You smile and get on your tiptoes to press a kiss to Sukuna's tattooed jaw, a tender lingering touch, before you tell him softly,

"Let's sleep over it for a night or two, and then we'll decide what to do. But either way, I want you to know that you sound like you would be an amazing dad. I guess having your baby would be quite nice."

You can see Sukuna's gaze soften, and then he smirks that attractive smirk at you and pulls you even closer against him, leaning down so his lips brush over yours when he says,

"Let's see if you will still say that when the little brat turns out to be anything like me. I wasn't an easy child."

And you laugh and reach up to ruffle Sukuna's pink hair affectionately, tangling your fingers in the soft, pink strands,

"Well, how lucky that I have you by my side to look after Sukuna Number 2 then."

You feel Sukuna grin against your lips, and then he kisses you, slow and tender, and you practically melt against him.

You are still nervous but not as scared anymore. Sukuna is right: You are going to do this together. No matter what, you have Sukuna by your side. And, even though he doesn't look like it, your bad boy is actually a good man.

And maybe your decision is already made because the mental image of Sukuna going to class with a baby carrier strapped to his broad chest just won't leave your mind anymore.

SIGHHHHHH I think I would want his baby 😭

Thank you so much for reading! I love the mess that CollegeBoy!Sukuna is. He is very dear to me 💗 I am so proud of him for being so mature about this!! A good man and a good soon-to-be daddy.

In my head, I was singing "Papa, don't preach" the whole time while writing this ;)

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

Update: Part 2 Option A (Reader has an abortion) Part 2 Option B (Reader decides to have the baby)

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

just for tonight

a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).

summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4907

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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”

“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 

“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”

Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 

But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 

It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 

Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 

You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.

“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 

“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 

“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 

A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”

The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 

You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.

“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”

“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 

A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 

The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 

Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 

When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 

Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 

But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.

“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 

And so, he didn’t.

Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 

Barely an hour passed before you woke. 

Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 

Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 

“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 

“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”

As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”

Your eyes then widened, “I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 

Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 

“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 

“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 

A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 

Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 

Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”

He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.

When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 

As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.

And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 

But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 

“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”

“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”

“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”

A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”

“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”

“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 

Can’t or won’t?

Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 

It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 

As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  

Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 

With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 

“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 

But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”

“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 

“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 

“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 

“To what, huh?” 

“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 

“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.

“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 

“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 

“I want you to fuck me, please!” 

With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.

Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 

Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.

Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 

You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 

Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 

Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 

The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 

When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 

Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 

A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 

“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 

“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 

Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.

Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 

“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.

Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 

When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 

Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 

With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 

The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 

Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”

Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 

Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 

When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 

“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 

Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 

“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 

“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  

“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 

“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 

“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 

“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 

“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 

Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.

“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 

“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.

“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 

“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”

“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 

His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 

Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 

Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 

Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.

“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”

One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 

“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”

“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 

A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 

He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 

“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”

With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 

Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 

The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.

“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 

“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.

Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 

The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 

“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”

“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 

“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 

And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.

His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 

You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.

After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 

“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.

“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 

“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 

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