#anyway all of this is also very selective. if i move too far away from a point of interest my brain turns off until i find a new point

[sforzesco]

Weird question maybe but genuinely how do you manage to read so much and actually Retain Information?

honestly it depends, some stuff slides right off my brain like water on a smooth rock, but history has been an intense area of interest for me since I was about six (american revolution babyyyyy, back when I lived in new england I used to spend my weekends going to reenactments and museums) and if something piques my interest, then everything related to that thing will forcibly take up space in my brain against my will. I did not care about the roman economy until crassus took over my life, and now there's about a century of roman history where I'm fascinated by the economy.

it's also extremely difficult for me to to keep focused on a singular train of thought (read about Caesar's march on Rome, immediately jumped to a book about the Siege of Florence, then jumped back to Trebonius and siege warfare), so when I read a book or start researching something, I have an open notebook near by and I'll jot notes/thoughts/whatever else down in it because I remember information with more clarity if I write it down by hand, especially because I struggle to retain information I read on a screen (I also don't remember notes I take on a laptop or on my phone, it's gotta be on paper) and when I'm done reading, I'll summarize the interesting parts down for my future self

[targaryen-dynasty]

THE CURSE OF CURIOSITY.

Aemond Targaryen x twin sister!reader

"While your brother searches the library of the Dragonkeeper Elder for something new to read, you come in contact with some unlabeled fluid. You both learn that it's something meant to aid in the breeding of dragons, however, it also has a unique effect on humans. But lucky for you, your twin is there to help you through the ordeal."

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, dub con, sex pollen (rather fluid lol), p in v, breeding kink

WORDS: 4 K

NOTES: Hope you enjoy me having literally zero grasp on English. 🤭

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

“It’s far too late for us to be here,” you huff, almost annoyed, as you watch Aemond graze his fingers along the spines of the several books kept in the currently deserted chambers of the Dragonkeeper Elder. “What are we looking for here anyways?”

The room is barely lit by anything else than just a handful of candles. Your twin holds a lantern of some sort in one hand, using it to make out the writings that are carved on the books backs. 

When there doesn’t immediately come an answer from him, you start to slowly walk around the room, inspecting its decor. “I have exhausted the castle’s libraries, and hope to take something of their collection for my own,” he murmurs, carefully selecting two books. 

You stop in your tracks and turn to look at him. Although you’re just a few moments younger than him, sharing the same attributes with your long, silver hair and lilac eyes, you have a much gentler nature than he does, one that doesn’t lend itself to the same mischief you had pursued together as children anymore. 

“And you couldn’t have just taken Floris with you? You ought to wed, and doing something together would do no harm to your future union. One sparsely sees you two around court,” you note, slightly annoyed your brother chose to wake you instead of his betrothed. 

Knowing all too well that just the mention of the betrothal is going to set him off, you choose to play with fire. If your brother wants your company, he’ll have to put up with your teasing. And just like expected, the notion of being forced into a marriage he doesn’t want to be in irritates him, audible in the sigh he releases. His resentment of the situation has become worse over time as he feels more and more suffocated by the ordeal.

“The girl is as dull as stones. Besides,” he replies with a shrug, “she knows nothing about our family’s history, much less about dragons.” The topic of dragons is something your twin is very passionate about, and you know that the fact that his wife-to-be cares so little about his passion infuriates him. It might be one of the main reasons for his dislike of her. “I have no desire to have Floris at my side any more than she does me.”

His annoyance is palpable, but you don’t feel bad about making it worse. For all the hours he has spent teasing, taunting and annoying you while you grew up together, he gets it back twice and three times over. And although he hasn’t spoken it out loud, you know you’re one of the few people he trusts blindly to be himself around. 

“That aside, it would be foolish to read with Floris,” he continues, your silence coaxing him to speak more, “as all she does is gossip with her friends and prattle on about pointless nonsense. You of all people know best how I feel about this match.”

“Floris isn’t so bad, you know,” you defend with a low voice. “And you’ve barely tried to get to know her. Surely you can find at least one thing to like about her. If you did, you might just see she’s not as terrible as you’ve decided.” If you both have to spend your days withering away in marriages sealed by your father and mother, you at least could find a little solace knowing your twin wasn’t as miserable in his. 

Aemond sighs in frustration. “You sound just like mother,” he comments dryly, finally moving to look at you from over his shoulder. “Can you really say that you like her? She is dull and naive. I am certain I couldn’t find anything to like about her even if I had all night. There is nothing for me to like about her. Nothing at all.”

Finding yourself at somewhat of a loss of words at this, you open and close your mouth without any words leaving it. Part of you wants to disagree with your twin, as Floris hasn’t been entirely unpleasant to spend time with at court, which makes Aemond’s dislike for her appear entirely without reason to you. On the other hand, you’ve known your brother long and well enough to know when he is resolute about something. 

“Just promise me that you won’t be a terrible husband to her. Even if you don’t like her, don’t make your lifes awful,” you finally blurt out. 

As you allow your gaze to trail through the chambers once more, you spot some small vessels standing lined up on the desk in the far corner with books and scrolls littered around them. You don’t wait for Aemond to reply as you make your way over, determined to inspect the small containers. The liquid inside of them resembles milk of the poppy, although it’s slightly more permeable to light when you hold it to one of the candles. 

You hardly think about the dangers coming with it when you open the lid to inhale a whiff of the fluid. Not smelling entirely unpleasant, it still has you scrunching your nose as a slight burning grows prominent in your nose and throat. 

Placing the vessel back down rather quickly, it stands too close to the edge of the desk. You’re not quick enough as it falls to the ground with a clatter, the vessel shattering into pieces and the pale liquid spreading across the floor. 

“By the Seven,” you mumble, sinking to the ground to collect some of the larger shards. 

The sound of breaking glass and your sighing is enough to catch your brother's attention again. Where he has read the spines of the books before, he makes his way over to the source of the commodation now. “You shouldn’t have dropped that,” he comments dryly, which prompts you to shoot him a heated glare. “Oh, you don’t say, mh?” you reply, your voice laced with sarcasm. 

Reaching for another shard, you pull your hand back with a hiss when it cuts your finger. “Ouch!” you exclaim and rise to your feet, soon enough spotting the crimson oozing out of the cut. 

Despite his annoyance at your clumsiness, Aemond’s good eye is drawn to the cut you have given yourself. It’s no deep wound, but even the hint of your blood makes something akin to guilt bubble in his stomach. “What were you doing with that?” he inquires, as he takes your hand to inspect your finger, nodding towards the vessels still standing on the desk. 

You watch him twist and turn your hand to have the perfect look of the wound, the stinging pain suddenly not too bad with his warm skin on yours. “I… I just wanted to see what they keep here. It is unusual for anyone other than the maesters to store unmarked liquids,” you reply, hissing as Aemond pinches the cut finger a tad too tightly. “I shall see Maester Mellos. Mayhaps this needs stitching.”

“That’s an excellent idea.”

Aemond fetches the books he has chosen from the collection, holding them under his arm as he brings the other to you to place a hand to the small of your back, guiding you out of the Dragonpit. 

On your request, the cut on your finger is stitched by Maester Mellos, although he has voiced that it wasn’t quite necessary. But something tells you the opposite, especially when you catch him staring at your face and checking your temperature more than once. “Is everything alright, maester?” you ask him with a soft voice, a yawn following. 

Aemond towers over the both of you, carefully watching each move of the needle in the elder’s hands, just waiting for him to make a wrong move that’s meant to hurt you – he’s familiar with being stitched up after all. 

The maester seems to be out of his mind, and only reacts as he hears you say his name. “Maester Mellos?” 

His eyes are wide, but he nods quickly. “Yes… yes, princess. The wound should be able to heal calmly now.” 

He is quick to pack his utensils up again, and even faster to leave your chambers at once. And while Aemond hurries after the old man, trying to catch up on him outside of your chambers, you don’t wait for any of them to return again with sleep coming over you.

The crackling of the fireplace is the only thing audible when you stir awake, a sheen of sweat covering your skin, making your nightgown cling to it uncomfortably. Your body feels as though it’s on fire when you squirm from one side to the other, not finding back to sleep. A tingling spreads in your loins, and each time your thighs squeeze together, it surges up your spine. 

“Gods be good,” you whine, utterly bewildered with the feeling of liquid fire coursing through your veins. 

Aemond not so silently rises from one of the chairs close to the fireplace, and comes closer to the bed, though, careful not to startle or frighten you as you regain your bearings. He has hoped you’d sleep through the entire ordeal and wake up as if nothing has happened, but that hope slowly dissipates with each passing moment. 

“How are you feeling?” your twin asks, concern in his voice. Suddenly, hearing his voice allures you, and doesn’t diminish the burning at the apex of your legs. 

As you clench your thighs together again, it releases some of the tension your body holds, and makes you whine in despair. “Aemond…” you pant, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths. “What are you doing here?”

The thin sheets covering your body do little to conceal what is happening beneath, and your brother just assumes it’s your way of trying to suppress your bodily urges ignited by the pale liquid you came in contact with before. 

“I…” his usual confidence and boldness completely deserts him at the state you’re in, and he can barely find the words to tell you what he’s been told by Maester Mellos. 

As he watches you writhe and writhe about on the bed, he’s unsure of how much longer he can just stand there and do nothing. But his concern and love for you cause him to make the decision to act, approaching you and reaching out to grasp your hands. 

At the contact, the feeling of his warm hands fully engulfing yours, it’s like something overcomes your mind and body, luring you in to move, staring up at him with wide eyes as you sit on your haunches. “Dohaeragon nyke… kostilus,” you whimper, strands of your silver hair clinging to the damp sides of your face. “Ziry ōdrikagon.. sīr bāne. Nyke sepār – dohaeragon nyke, lēkia.” Yet you don’t quite know what exactly you’re begging for. Help me… please. It hurts… so hot. I just – help me, brother. 

In the dim light of the candles, you spot his eye widening as you shift and squirm, looking up at him in such a vulnerable state with your innocent eyes, pleading for him to help you through your ordeal although you have no idea of what’s wrong with you right now. He can’t help but notice how your hair clings to your skin, seeming as if you’ve just bathed, and that your movements seem to contribute to its dampness. 

“Mellos has told me what the fluid is that the Elder keeps in his chambers,” he states, trying to stay calm and not let your state affect him too much. 

But with his proximity, all effort of you to process what he’s saying is fruitless. You pull on his hands, as if you want to encourage him to join you in bed, and when he doesn’t budge, you rise on your knees, and start to fidget with the buttons of his coat – solely driven by your urges. “And that is?” you mumble, not really listening.  

His cheeks run hot when you start to undo the buttons, and his hands capture yours once again to put a stop to it, making you pout. With furrowed brows, his grip finally has you looking up at him. “It’s something used to aid in breeding the dragons,” Aemond states. “He told me it’s also used to increase their stamina and to make them more…” he trails off, his body slowly growing tense as the implication of what he’s going to say settles into his mind. “... receptive to breeding.”

“Mh–Mh,” you hum almost nonchalantly, and watch completely mesmerized as your fingers graze along his, the warmth and softness of his skin only intensifying the tingling in your loins. Aemond is hesitant, unsure whether or not what you’re doing is entirely due to the potion’s effect, or if there is genuinely some desire for him on your part. 

You lick your lips and free your hands from Aemond’s to shrug the opened coat off his shoulders. The fabric of his tunic is pinched between your fingers as you tug on it once again to beg for him to join you. With him taking his sweet time, you find yourself clenching your thighs every now and then to soothe the aching burning at the apex of them.

“He also informed me that ‘tis necessary for someone to… help you through it,” he murmurs quietly, his voice almost sounding shaky as he speaks, “... for it will burn you from the inside out if not.”

Even though you’re fully acting on your body's desires, you do notice the way his widened eye trails down to your thighs, lingering there for a moment before it returns to yours. 

You don’t give a verbal response to his words, and instead, your only reactions are subtle ones. Nodding your head slowly, as if you’ve understood what he is implying, your hands squeeze his tunic further into his chest. He can practically see your body tensing with each movement of your fingers, almost as if you’re trying to hold back. 

With your eyes firmly locked with his now, you slowly trail your hands beneath his tunic, pushing it up to remove that as well from his body to get further access to him – if it wasn’t for him not raising his arms. 

Exhaling a deep breath, you sit back on your haunches. His reluctance does little to quell the fire raging within you, no, it only fuels to make you even more desperate. The lacey hem of your nightgown rides up your thighs as you spread them, and fully exposes your undergarments the moment you bring your hand between your legs. A breathy whimper falls past your lips as your fingers finally make contact with your clothed cunt, and then something akin to mischief flickers in your lilac eyes. 

“And… will you help me, brother? Or shall I ask Jacaerys for help instead? We ought to wed in a moon's turn after all,” your voice is honeyed as you speak, dripping with feigned innocence. “But you don’t want that, do you? That’s why you’ve stayed.”

You spot the exact moment his breath hitches in his throat. He suddenly feels a wave of heat overcoming him, your words triggering something in him that is more than just the usual desire to protect his younger sister, something primal. You sound and look so vulnerable asking for his help, secretly begging for him and him only. 

Intertwining your fingers with his, the intensity of your grip increasing as your senses become more heightened, your twin finally moves as you pull him onto the bed. The mattress dips beneath his weight as you watch him come closer, and when he is close enough, you reach and pull him down onto you in a quick motion. You don’t waste a second more and lock your lips with his, your hand slowly traveling down his back. But before you can grab his tunic and pull it over his head, Aemond pushes you back to lie flatly on the bed, pinning your wrists above your head. His eye burns with hunger as he gazes down at you, visible even in the dim light, and it makes you yearn for more. 

“Well, if I chose to leave you here to your own devices, would you crawl to your betrothed for help? I do not think so,” he says, his voice taking over a mocking tone. “No, in fact, I’m certain you would come to my chambers instead.”

When he doesn’t touch you, you try to wrap your legs around his body to grind yourself against him, but Aemond is quick to catch your hip with one hand, keeping your body still as it's pinned to the mattress.

“Sir, dohaeragon nyke,” you beg, voice shaky enough it comes close to a whimper. But when you notice that speaking in the tongue of your ancestors is not having any effect on him at all, you choose to coax him to tend to you in the Common Tongue. “Touch me, Aemond. Help me… please.” Now, help me.

Aemond is silent for a moment, visibly dragging his eye over your squirming frame. One hand still holds your wrists above your head, while the other slowly but surely releases your hip. “I shall take care of you,” he reassures you. “But you will have to let me, do you understand?”

You gaze up at him with wide eyes and slowly nod your head, only for you to pounce on him the moment your wrists are released. The tunic is gone as soon as your body collides with his, causing a strained gasp to leave your twin’s lips. While just the thoughts of his warm skin on yours have incite your mind already, seeing his bare chest sets your body alight. 

His demeanor changes in the blink of an eye, and he has never treated you as roughly as he does when he pushes you off of him. It leaves you dumbfounded for a moment, more so when he moves between your parted legs, towering over you. 

“Look how dull this fluid has made you,” he mocks, the condescending tone of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. Aemond notices that you’re not shying away from him, no, you keen at that. “Just because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

“If I help you,” he warns, “no one else, let alone that bastard of a nephew, is ever allowed to touch you again, do you understand?”

It might be the liquid-induced state, or the despair to have him do anything to you already, but you’re far too eager to nod at his words. 

Aemond’s hand wanders below the hem of your nightgown to heartily fist your undergarments and peel them off of you. He can already feel that the linen is soaked with your arousal, but still can’t stop himself from licking his lips as he sees your now exposed cunt glistening in the light of the candles. 

“Now, we do not want you to suffer any longer, hm?” he asks. 

And you nod once again. “Gods, yes, please. I need you, Aemond.”

You don’t have to beg him any longer. He undoes the laces in the front of his breeches and pulls out his throbbing cock, painfully hard and aching to be buried inside of you. It’s slightly curved and thick, and if you have to guess, you’d say that you need both hands to pleasure him, and even then there’d still be a bit of him that would be left abandoned. 

Aemond wastes no time in lining himself up with your entrance, pushing into you as you both moan in unison. You don’t expect him to set up a merciless pace almost immediately upon fully bottoming out, but you’re not disappointed either. 

While you’ve been able to talk before, he’s quickly reduced you to a whimpering and whining mess, relishing in the delicious burning of accommodating his sheer size. 

“Does it help?” your twin asks through gritted teeth, desperately trying to keep his sounds of pleasure at bay. But you’ve been fucked into a stupor by him already, not even able to keep your eyes open. “Mh-mh,” you hum. 

Putting some of his weight onto you, Aemond’s hand finds your throat like the most treasured necklace you only take off to sleep, taking up the entirety of your neck and leaving no room for you to shift even the slightest. 

It was subtle at first, but the merciless pace slowly changes into something more determined, his hips rolling with each thrust as if he wants to make sure the tip of his cock really brushes your sweet spot every time. He’s seemingly spurred on by the way you’ve lost all inhibitions, not that the fluid allowed you to have any in the first place, and the wanton moans that spill past your lips. 

One of your hands grabs his wrist, keeping his hand around your throat, while the other finds solace on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. Your nails dig into his alabaster skin, and you’re sure that crescent shaped marks will bloom there not long after, staking your claim on him. 

“But you need more,” Aemond grunts, and you can’t do more than whimper a pathetic string of yesses. “The only thing that will truly help you is for me to fill you up with my seed, to breed you.”

Your head tips back in plain bliss, and you’re not sparing one thought to the possible repercussions of him putting a child in you. If anything, there is something buried deeply inside of you that has waited for this moment. You have waited for this moment. You grew up thinking you’d marry your twin one day, only for the rising tensions inside of the family to force you to marry your nephew instead as the final straw to mend the chasm. 

Aemond’s stamina doesn’t seem to be able to handle the way your body reacts to him and his words – not when a renewed wave of your arousal drips from your cunt at the mere thought of you carrying his child. It’s running thin, ready to burst at any given moment, hence he brings a deft finger to your pearl, rubbing it with frantic movements that should bring you to peak just in time with him. 

The pressure brought to your pearl has your body squirming, not anticipating it and the shiver of pleasure that comes with it. You arch your back and moan, yet a tight squeeze of your throat is enough to bring your attention back to him.

“Do you want that?” he pants, dark blown eyes fixed with yours. “Want me to put a babe in you?” It might be his way to ask for your reassurance, and while your body’s reaction should be enough with your walls clenching around him so tightly, he stills wants to hear your voice. 

Your cheeks grow hot as his words finally seem to settle in your hazed mind, a whiny ‘yes’ slipping past your lips. “Fill me up, Aemond… please. I want it,” you all but beg, your voice croaked with him squeezing your throat. 

The confession flips a switch inside of you that allows you to let go, your body shattering beneath Aemond with a pathetic whine. He relishes in the way your walls flutter and spasm all over him, utterly mesmerized as relief etches itself into your features. 

With a groan, the first wanton sound of pleasure you’ve heard of him, Aemond spends himself inside of you. He connects your lips in a heated kiss that has you swallowing down each grunt and groan he unleashes. Working you both through the blissful highs, his hips only stop once he’s sure he’s fucked his seed as deep as possible, determined to put a child in you. 

Aemond topples over into the vacant space next to you, his breeches soaked with your arousal and his chest heaving with his breaths. 

The sudden loss of friction makes you whine at first, but is quickly overshadowed by the feeling of relief. “Thank you,” you whisper through heavy breaths, turning your head to look at him. 

“I won’t leave now,” he says softly, although there is a linger of mischief in his voice. “I would be remiss not to aid my sister in her hour of utmost desperation… so, I shall stay the night just to make sure you really get through it.”

Aemond Taglist: @persephonerinyes @dr-aegon @schniiipsel @thekinslayed @baizzhu @legitalicat

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

https://www.reddit.com/r/interestingasfuck/s/dZPyQKnY7J

So is this bullshit even legal or able to happen if trump wins!? Aka him bragging about doing away with voting all together if he gets in

It won’t happen unless he does a more effective coup. I think he may just be saying “I only get four more years anyway just vote for me and don’t worry about voting after that when it’s not me I don’t care”.

The thing about trump is he just. Says things. That make no sense. He’s speaking out his ass. I wouldn't worry about it too much beyond voting against him this election. Now that he’s not against Biden I feel he may be spiraling a bit. With Biden we would have seen a landslide in his favor, with an annoying neo-liberal on the other hand, well. The results are likely to mirror the 2020 election. Trump is looking down the barrel at a serious loss, so he’s just appealing to whatever extremists he can at this point. The Republican Party by and large is not a fan of trump. It’s actually a massive division in the party at present with a very sizable fraction of republicans leaning towards not voting or voting third party/democrat. Just like there were a lot of democrat voters biting the bullet and willing to vote Biden just to avoid trump, so too were there plenty of republican voters only willing to vote trump to avoid Biden. With the threat of a second Biden term gone, you will see a weaker turnout, even if just marginally.

Trump is also rapidly showing his age, it was just less noticeable when he was against Biden who was worse. Everyone but his cultists see it. Republican voters also despise Vance, trump’s selected VP, because Vance says the quiet part a bit TOO loud, even when compared to trump. Republicans overall tend to agree with the things Vance has said about women, immigrants, etc., but it’s preferred to keep the mask on (ironic choice of words is unintentional). If trump wanted to win this, choosing a more moderate Republican as VP is a better look because it would have garnered support from people who hate trump but favor the next in line. As is, he picked someone so far right it makes trump look moderate in comparison which is a worse move by a long shot. People on the fence about voting trump are not going to be won over by someone like Vance. People who are die hard trump fans probably recall Vance speaking unfavorably about trump in the past.

Overall, the future is very uncertain for trump. There’s a good chance in another four years he’s going to be too old to run at all. As a result, he’s making even weirder promises he knows he can’t and won’t keep. His strategy has gone into just banking on the votes of the far right and hoping for a silent majority.

Every word the man says is a lie. If you are concerned by them, vote. I don’t even care if you vote for Harris or whomever the presidential nominee for the democrats is going to be, vote democrat on every other seat on the ballot. Ensure that, even if the electoral college selects trump, his nonsensical and dangerous actions will be blocked. That is the most important thing you can do this election.

But no, to answer your question, he cannot just remove the already flimsy democracy we already have. The ones who could would be the Supreme Court. They are already playing heavily in favor of trump, if you want to uno-reverse card them on all the actions they are taking to ensure a dictatorship can occur, I would recommend voting a democrat for your presidential pick.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Kino Ecstasy [01]

ー The scene starts in the guest room of Kino’s manor

Kino: Hey, why don’t we go for a short stroll? 

Yui: Eh?  But it looks like it’s going to rain?

Kino: Who cares! Let’s go! It’s decidedー!

Yui: You’re being too pushy...

Kino: ...Do you hate it when I’m pushy? If you do, I don’t mind trying to be mindful of it.

Yui: Uu...

( I can’t say anything back when he stares right at me like that... )

Kino: Haha, you’re blushing. ーー Have you started falling for me a little? 

Yui: T-That’s notーー

Kino: Fufu, how cute. Makes me want to gobble you right up. ...Say, why don’t we have some ‘fun’ together?

ー He pulls her close

*Rustle* 

Yui: ( Woah. He pulled me close. )

W-We’re going on a walk, no!?

ー Yui pushes him away

*Thud*

Kino: Che, what a shame. But still, I guess I should consider myself lucky for getting to see you get all flustered? ...Anyway, shall we go?

ー The scene shifts to the park

Kino: God, I can’t believe this! Who would have thought it’d suddenly start pouring!?

Yui: That’s what I was trying to tell you...

Kino: Even so, I wanted to go out on a walk with you, so can you blame me?

...Ah, there’s an umbrella over there. Let’s use it.

Yui: Eh? Are you sure we should?

Kino: I’m sure someone forgot it here, so we’re basically doing the umbrella a favor by putting it to good use!

ー Kino goes to fetch the umbrella

*Rusle. 

Kino: There we go. Come on, get underneath. 

Yui: S-Sure...

ー Yui joins him

Kino: Oh come on, scoot a little closer. You’re going to get wet from the rain.

Yui: Eh? I-I’m fine...

( I get nervous around him when there’s little distance between us. )

Kino: You’re not fine at all! Come on, move closer!

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah!?

Kino: What’s this? Does your heart start racing when I wrap my arm around your shoulder?

Yui: I-It...doesn’t...?

Kino: Is that so? ...Oh well, whatever. You should hold the umbrella now. My arm’s kind of starting to hurt.

Selection

→ Sure (M)

Yui: Yeah, sure.

( Anyway, I’ll try to act as normal as possible... )

*Rustle rustle* 

Yui: W-Well then, shall we head back home?

→ I’d like you to hold it (S)

Yui: ( But he’s taller than me... )

I’d be happy if you could keep holding it, if possible. 

Kino: ...I mean, if you want to make me suffer that badly, guess I have no other choice.

Yui: ( Hmー I didn’t mean it like that though... )

Kino: Ahーah. You’re pretty cold-hearted, considering I’ve hold it this whole time so far. I’m kind of shocked.

Yui: Uu...F-Fine.

( I can’t refuse when he puts it like that. )

Kino: Fufu, I really love it...when you’re so obedient, you know?

Yui: ...!

Kino: Well then. Here you go.

*Rustle* 

ー They start walking

Yui: ( H-He’s so close...Phew. Relax...Stay calm... )

Kino: Say, look at me? I want to talk while gazing into each other’s eyes. 

Yui: ( I’m pretty sure his straightforwardness also adds to the embarrassment... )

...I’m pretty sure we can talk without looking at each other too... 

So, what do you want to talk about?

Kino: ーー We can’t talk unless it’s about a specific topic?

Yui: No, but...

Kino: You don’t sound very sure of that. In that caseーー

*Rustle*

Kino: Let’s do this. Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: Kyah...?

*Rustle* 

Kino: Wah!? Geez, that was close. You have to hold onto it tight, okay?

Yui: B-But...! It’s because you...kissed me.

Kino: Because I wanted you to turn my way. I mean, you’ve been acting kind of awkward this whole time. 

Yui: T-That’s ーー...

Kino: Are you nervous because we’re basically glued together? 

Yui: ( Uu...It’s kind of embarrassing to hear him get it right... )

Kino: Fufu. Bull’s eye? ...I can’t help but find that oh-so adorable about you. 

Yui: Eh?

Kino: That’s why I want you to think only of me as well. Fill your head with nothing but that, okay? Nnh.

*Smooch* 

Yui: Uu...

( ...That’s already the case though ーー )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[cru5h-cascades]

Splatoon Future: A Story Mode Concept

So a while back I had two ideas for future story campaign stories and there's this one that I (alongside others) really enjoy: the vigalante story. So for the past few days while working on some final plotpoint ideas for my OCs' Side Order story arc (speaking of Your Side of Order I might start working on the first chapter in a few days! might even release it on the 29th this month since Side Order will probably release a month from then), I've also been thinking about some concepts for the next story arc! So, this is what I've gotten so far...

So basically since Splatoon 3 is the end of the current story arc, we'll be moving away from the whole inklings v octolings conflict and shifting attention towards something else. But who could possibly be the next new big bad?

Easy. We make a long anticipated species of inkfish an actual thing in the game. WE INVOLVE THE CUTTLINGS IN THE NEXT ARC. I know, crazy but hear me out.

irl cuttlefish can hypnotize their prey with flashing colors and such, so having cuttlings as big bads wouldn't be so farfetched.

Plotwise, here's what I have in mind:

So the player opens up the game, right? Upon first glance, everything's alright. We got some cool new "idols" (heavy emphasis on the quotation marks; you'll see why in a bit), normal ass news report, ect.. BUT after the news, the idols give an emergency news report that finally doesn't have to do with the Great Zapfish: someone vanilized a statue celebrating the integration of octarians into inkling culture using a very specific symbol. The "idols" act suprised, and add that this is yet another case of vandilizm in a large strand of crimes involving defacing public property, specifically anything that has to do with inklings and octolings being together. And all these crimes have one thing in common: they all involve the same symbol being spray painted onto something. The news brodcast closes out and the player can move around the hub area. If they go to the statue that was vandilized (which is located in the middle of the hub area), they'll meet up with a few other NPCs (the characters you'll be accompanied by in the campaign) (as for who they could be I'll leave that to your imagination). One of them seems interested in the crime and wants to further explore the situation. The other NPCs agree and they ask you for your opinion (either way you start the story mode anyways). After selecting your answer & the NPCs talking a bit more, they all agree to meet up at another statue in the city to see if it'll get defaced.

Later at night, you meet up with the other NPCs and then a steakout is commenced. After waiting a while, a mysterious being shows up and is about to vandilize the statue. One of the NPCs wants to jump them and attempts to, only for the figure to somehow cause them to freeze before they could do anything. The figure runs away and the group chases after them. After a while, you're treated to the first boss of the game. Nothing too difficult, but it's challanging enough for a first boss fight. After beating the boss, it's revealed that the character is a being similar to the "idols" (i.e. not an inkling or an octoling). Before you can deal the final blow, the character causes everyone to freeze and then they super jump away. After that, one of the NPCs talks about wanting to see where the character is going, so you and the others follow the character into a strange underground area that leads to an underwater base (the story mode area, which can still be accessed through the statue in the hub). In each level, you and the NPCs duke it out with the cuttlings and more of their henchmen (which could probably include other inkfish enemies like vamplings, vampire squid inkfish), slowly figuring out what's going on with these peculiar inkfish.

(dunno what bosses the player could face so I'll leave this up to you guys for now)

Anyways, after duking it out with the cuttlings, the player will find out the story of the cuttlings. Basically they are another race of inkfish who, among other types of inkfish like vamplings (and maybe others if Nintendo wants to shake things up a bit), who were feared and ostrisized by the inklings and octolings for their strange abilities, and were forced into hiding in fear that ther species would be wiped out entirely. Many retreated into completely different hiding areas, with some hiding among other inklings and octolings in disquise and others just trying to stay away from other inkfish entirely, with one of the oldest civilizations of these inkfish making the underwater base of this story mode. These inkfish, unlike others who retreated to other parts of the world, hold a grudge against other inkfish who didn't go underwater with them (and of course against the inklings and octolings), and only now are the inkfish living in the base are planning to take over the surface by using their abilities to pin inklings and octolings against each other or just have them under their control so the cuttlings and other inkfish can have the life they want and to have them take revenge against their opressors, starting off by capturing their true current idols and replacing them with cuttlings posing as them.

In the end, the player and the NPCs save the idols and the player is faced with a choice: convince the cuttlings that things are different now and help them get along with other surface dwellers or have them stay in the base forever. After beating the campaign, the player will have the real idols in place of the fake ones (they can swap idols if they prefered one's music over another's, though). Also, the story is left wide open for exploring other types of inkfish and their cultures.

It's a sort of rough idea but hey it's a thought.

[latibvles]

BLIND DATES OC FEST 2023

something for @mercurygray ’s OC Fest, which I … conveniently remembered after restarting The Pacific. So we went with a triple whammy challenge for myself here — new OC, new “canon” character, and a different side of the war. Went into a name generator, got “Vicki Graves” and … now we’re here. Melbourne antics featuring a bar, macarons, a birthday, a selective risk-taker, and Poet’s very first attempts at writing Hoosier. Have a neat little moodboard for my girl, and then the writing is below the cut :) we’re also just short of 2k words I am so normal about her. this also took on a bit of a “Before Sunrise” feel that I’m not ??? mad about ??? anyways moving on—

It was a great camera all things considered.

The latest model — it came with a case and film in a green gift box, sitting pretty on her desk at the office that morning, with a note that read “Happy Birthday Vee ~ Lois” in bubble letters. She was promptly ambushed when she sat down — with balloons and a coffee and a bagel with jam from that bakery down the street. They crowded around her when she opened the box with the camera and the film, Lois at the front with that prideful grin and her hands on her hips.

It was a good morning. Not a bad birthday.

The music was loud, a song being carried by a marine’s not-quite-sober vibrato. He whisked Margie away with that inebriated tenor of his, his friend joined in and he had an arm around her waist as he continued to croon. The music drowned out the shutter of her camera, and the lighting wasn’t terrible either, so Vicki remained seated and observing, peering through her viewfinder and snapping a photo with a click.

She took one earlier, of Lois and the marine she’d been dancing with for the better half of the night. Lew, that’s what he said his name was, tall and broad-shouldered with a smile like trouble. But Lois looked too good in her shirtwaist dress to pass up. The camera wouldn’t capture it, but the warm yellow of it brought out the shininess of her hair, the glow to her summer-tanned skin. Vicki would give it to her tomorrow.

Years from now, she could try to imagine the yellow, and if warranted, the marine holding her too.

No dancing or trouble-making marines for her; she was reserving her courage to spend on calling her mother later, maybe, if it proved to be enough to give her that extra oomf.

Christ, Vick, she could hear Lois scolding her, clear as day. Y’wanna go take pictures of war zones but you can’t even call your own mom?

Well, she’d reply, in war zones they might not ask me if I found a boy to bring home yet. They’d just let me take the damn pictures.

And maybe it was the summer heat making the bar turn stuffy — or maybe the prospect of boyfriends and aspirations and disappointing phone conversations with mother dearest were enough to flush her face and leave her unreasonably flustered. Whatever it was, she didn’t like how Margie, all tangled up in the singing marine, would glance her way and grin, like she was concocting.

And there were far too many people around for concoctions.

Vicki rose, slipping through the excitability and alcohol-induced merriment towards the front door. She wouldn’t leave. Well, maybe she wouldn’t leave, but it was hot and stuffy and she needed air that wasn’t coupled with the hazy scent of cigarettes.

She stepped out into the cool summer night and let out a hefty sigh, the night air cooling the flush to her cheeks almost instantaneously. She could walk home — it was fifteen minutes to her apartment. The sidewalks were busy though, and she wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to take the risk with so many strangers out and about.

She was still rotating her options when the door opened and shut again. She looked to her left.

Vicki recognized him, vaguely (as in: he’d come in with Lew and they’d approached the table, and she’d noticed the blue to his eyes, the pout to his lips, and the swagger of his walk, and even though he didn’t ask her to dance she almost wished he did).

“He ain’t givin’ her back.” He broke the silence first, his lip curling into a grin. He and Lew had a similar twang to their voices. She followed his eyes as they looked back through the window, to Lois and Lew and their goofy grins.

“First you take my cricket field, now you take my ride home,” she lamented melodramatically, letting herself put her full weight on the window. “Greedy little bunch, you Yanks.” He chuckled, looking down to pull out a cigarette and light it.

“Apologies, ma’am, if it makes up for it I’ve got good word that uh… Bud and your friend there were gettin’ ready to serenade the birthday girl ‘till she slipped away.”

“And is that good word coming from the one meant to reel her back in?” He smiled at her rhetoric, giving a lazy sort of shrug.

“It could be.”

“And does the retriever have a name or should I keep calling him Marine?” She watched as the end of his cigarette burned orange, before smoke slipped from his lips.

“I’ve also got good word it might be Bill. Smith. You wouldn’t happen to know the name of lady he’s looking for, would you?” She couldn’t help but snort at that, shaking her head slightly as the way his grin seemed to grow. She could appreciate a good showman, at the very least. Still, she hesitated for a moment.

That undeniable sort of apprehension creeped in on her. After packing up and fleeing the nest much to her mother’s dismay — she’d had a fill of… of risk-taking. And if she’d learned anything from that, risk meant fall-out and marines, it seemed, were an inherently risky bunch.

And, unfortunately, not risk in the way of action shots and front-page news, at least not on this side of the ocean.

But she could hear Margie and Lois and the girls at the office all egging her on, even if one was currently being serenaded and the other was dancing and the last of the list likely scattered to the winds with husbands and boyfriends and whomever they chose to spend their Friday nights with.

“It’s Vicki.” A pause, she stared at the cigarette before looking back at him.

“Well then sorry for forgettin’ a present, Vicki.” He put out the cigarettes on the brick, letting the butt fall with that grin still playing on his lips. Like a kid poking a bear. Or rather, a kid poking a sedated bear, maybe.

She bit the bullet.

“Could always make it up to me. Since your friend stole my escort and I’m not going back in there with this newfound information.” That caught his attention, he raised a brow.

“Well the guilt’s just eatin’ me alive over here, y’know.” She snorted again and rolled her eyes.

“There’s a bakery, fifteen minutes from here. Got good coffee too. Buy me a coffee and all’s forgiven,” She pushed herself from the wall at that point, looking at him expectantly and without skipping a beat Bill did the same, offering her arm. “Wouldja look at that? Marine’s got manners. You might be winning me over.” She didn’t miss the way his grin grew impossibly wider, like she’d just given him a gold star, or the way he rolled his eyes at the remark. She took his arm, and started a half-walk half-drag down the streets.

Bill was funny — and observant. He’d lean down, mutter something in her ear and vaguely gesture to indicate where to look and she’d end up snickering and swatting his arm. It seemed that he could find some quick-witted remark in everything they saw. Vicki could offer him tidbits: where to get a good meal, the shortcuts to cut through, which bars the RACMPs liked to frequent on their days off.

She saw a lot through her viewfinder. What good was seeing things if she couldn’t share them? Even if her note resulted in him telling a story about a handful of marines getting into a brawl at a bar.

“But not you, right? Such a fine upstanding marine wouldn’t dream of it.” And he ran his hand across his own cheek in a caress, turning this way and that to show off the lack of bruises or other signs of a fight.

“Never me. Wouldn’t dream of it.” In a way that was so drawn-out and dry that she knew he meant quite the opposite, and she could appreciate his roundabout honesty.

“Lois was doing a touristy article on small businesses on this side of the city. Needed me to come take pictures of the place, the owner and all that.” She explained as he opened the glass door for her, and they stepped inside. Then Vicki turned, made a sweeping gesture for him to step towards the counter. “Tell them Vicki’s regular. Feel free to get yourself something too.” She gave him a wink at his playfully drawn out ‘yes ma’am’ — and made her own way to the display case to peruse.

“Quite the present you’re unwrappin’ there, Vee,” she looked up at one of the cashiers, Bette, who was eyeing Bill up and down as he spoke to the other man on shift like he was a steak dinner. “Who knew you had it in ya? Think I can get a turn next?” Vicki rolled her eyes, choosing not to entertain her antics this time around. “The usual, I take it?”

“And a slice of that chocolate cake, too.”

“Oh she’s really feeling adventurous,” Bette giggled as she started to pack away a dozen macarons in a pretty pink box, and then a large cake slice in another. Vicki immediately went to fish for her wallet, but the blond held up her hand. “On the house. Happy Birthday, never say I didn’t do anything for ya, and if you don’t take him upstairs it’s double next time.”

“I miss when you were smaller and too shy to speak to me.” Vicki lamented with a faux sigh, and Bette giggled.

“And I miss when you lived a little more.” Vicki took the two boxes, found her usual table by the window and sat down. Shortly after Bill came back, with two cups and she gestured to the seat across from her.

“All is forgiven then?” He asked with a grin, before noticing the bigger box in between them. “D'aww you shouldn’t have.”

“Sit and entertain me for a while then yeah, all is forgiven.” She gave him a more contained smile, taking her own coffee cup and eyeing it for a moment before cracking open the box of macarons and plucking one of the pistachio ones from the box to pop into her mouth. She watched as he reached for the chocolate one, wordless for a moment as he ate it with a boyish grin.

She wondered what the fallout of this would be — four years she’d lived in Melbourne, with this private tradition of eating and people watching once a year after the girls brought her out for celebrations. Why she decided to break this tradition with a marine she knew so little about, she had no explanation for. Maybe it was just a way to avoid calling her mother. A temporary distraction.

Bill looked out the window, pointed at another man in dress uniform stumbling around, and his shoulders shook in suppressed laughter at the sight . It was enough to make her snicker a little.

A damn good distraction, if any.

It was his turn to ask the questions now, coupled with wise-crack remarks and the occasional grin that oozed ‘you know you wanna laugh.’ Sometimes, she’d roll her eyes in spite of the corner of her lip twitching, or hide the grin behind her coffee cup.

“Anyone tell you you’ve got a smart mouth, Bill Smith?”

“You and the entire first marines, Vicki No-Last-Name.”

“Well then that just means it holds merit, now doesn’t it?” She watched as he went to grab another macaron from the box, and she found herself reaching for the camera around her neck.

If they let her go overseas, take pictures of the war unfolding, there probably wouldn’t be many shots like this. Of men in states of content in their dress uniforms, with pretty coffee cups and clean faces and troublemaking grins. But she still wanted to see it, to get a photo that would end up on the front page of The Age and show everyone what it was like out there. If the editor was willing to take a chance on her and feed into it a little bit.

In for a Penny, she tried to rationalize, and she didn’t hesitate to snap the photo as Bill eyed her in a moment of confusion.

“What’s that for?” He asked, raising a brow. Vicki shrugged simply.

“Me. What good’s a birthday if I’ve got nothing to remember it,” she sipped her coffee, and with another contained smile, she added, “And it’s… Graves. Vicki Graves.”

[light-lanterne]

so, i got an ask on my other account about my spanish teacher from middle school, who i briefly mentioned in a little post about how her daughter is now living in my building.

in the (now deleted for aesthetic reasons) post i'd made, i mentioned how this teacher used to bully me and this person now wants to know a bit more and i know i don't owe it to anyone, but i don't have anyone to talk about this with and i want to vent so why not ?

tw for bullying and ableism

anyway, i'm not going to share everything this teacher did (we'll be here all day), but allow me to explain the crux of the problem she had with me:

ever since i was a kid, i've always struggled with anxiety related conditions and one of them is selective mutism. it started at a very young age and my mom worked really hard to get me through it and, while i still fell back into it every once in a while, i was mostly over it by the time i entered middle school.

enter this teacher. she was strict and way too demanding in some aspects, but i've always been good at adapting to such personalities so my grades and schoolwork weren't the problem.

the problem was the way i talk.

you see, i have a condition called rhotacism. it basically means that the little ligament under my tongue is shorter than average and, as a result, i can't really articulate the letter "r". i've always had this problem, but other than some bullying in primary school, it's never been much of an issue for me.

until this teacher took an issue with it. almost from the start of my first year of middle school, she started poking fun at me for it: she would always correct me when i "said something wrong", she would make me read passages with a lot of r sounds, and she would claim that the reason i couldn't pronounce it was not something physical (which it is), but something neurological.

she claimed something was wrong with my brain and would call me all the common slurs. at least once a day, she would make sure to humiliate me in front of all my classmates (who naturally followed her lead so yay for that).

it sucked. and it made me very self-conscious and anxious. but it didn't stop there.

i think it was one or two months into my second year of middle school that she tried to get me expelled. her reasoning was that i was clearly in need of special-needs education and that she couldn't properly give class with me in there. moreover, she claimed my classmates couldn't understand me (they could), so i was actively affecting their education and that wasn't fair to them.

so she made a big fuss about it and it didn't really go too far, the principal was smart enough to know that it was all bull and it could get bad for them if she were allowed to continue, but it did take a toll on my 13-year-old self.

so i stopped talking. i'd only do it when needed to keep my grades up, but other than that i wouldn't talk to anyone ever,,, even if this obviously added fuel to the fire.

she got nastier with her insults. she moved me to the back of the classroom even if i couldn't read the whiteboard. she would pretend i was breaking random rules like "not drawing in class" so she could send me to detention (i actually really liked drawing back then,,, so maybe i was an artist at one point but she took that away from me x.x ), and she would complain about how i was good at english when i "couldn't even speak" my own language

(english has softer r sounds than spanish, especially if i use a british accent,,, also, my english teacher was not a meanie >.< )

it got really bad, so bad i eventually managed to get the principal on her case (we had a nativity play thingy and she wanted to make me a piggy, when all my other classmates got to be human :\ i ended up as a background shepherd in the end) and by my last year of middle school, she finally toned it down,,,

,,,via not speaking to me in the slightest, and encouraging my classmates to do the same. i think they even stopped using my name all year, which raised concerns from the most random teachers (who i thought didn't care) but there was little they could do about it :[

alas, it beat the bullying and i've never had a problem with being alone, so i got a bittersweet break and i managed to be top of my class despite everything. so i guess i won in the end.

nevertheless, i never knew why she had a problem with me. i think she didn't like my brother all that much either (he's two years older than me, so he was on his way out by the time the bullying started), but i don't really know. all i know is that this teacher was very mean and left me with a lot of problems (including the selective mutism, which is now here to stay woo) so, by all means, i think i am righteous to say that she was a bully,,, abuser, i'd even say,,, and that i hope she never sees me when she comes visit her daughter.

(all because i can't pronounce some words properly and have trouble hearing,,,)

[ina-nis]

I've been reading some on reddit to try to find a way out of this predicament and it's... difficult because the way I see things, and the way others seem to see these same things, is completely different in a way that, I feel, ultimately won't work for me (because, surprise: I tried that).

Person keeps on falling in love with their friends. That's the story of my life, isn't it? Then I go to the comments to see what others replied to and, damn, this sucks.

"Sounds like these are people you want to date, not befriend. Do you date? If not, start dating. Eventually a dating relationship will turn into a steady thing. Then perhaps you can develop true friendships without the hidden agenda."

I will never understand people who see their partners as a separated thing from friends - it honestly creeps me out a little... to me, a partner would be, first and foremost, a friend, a close friend, ideally my best friend, and we would have a romantic relationship while nurturing our, already established, friendship.

This is why going the "dating intentionally" route never quite worked for me, because I felt like I was skipping several steps...

That's likely due to trauma, of course. It takes a while for me to be able to trust and be truly comfortable with people, and for something as intimate and close as a romantic relationship, I'd really need to trust someone very, very much.

So... "friends to lovers" for me, always.

In another thread, a person says exactly the thing I've been thinking lately again, about keeping your distance or even cutting ties (whether temporarily or not), because if you're stuck with friends you're in love with and those relationships will not progress to romance, you're basically just wasting time.

But that's also difficult for me because I experience relationship decay rather quickly - hence why I've been putting so much effort into my friendships, so I don't lose them.

It really breaks me to do this whole... friendships with ulterior motives with every single person I come to befriend and wanting to invest my energy into. I don't want to do that. I don't like doing that either. At least now, I feel like I am intentional on that regard, I try to be pretty selective of people I befriend, while thinking of them as potential partners, too. When enough time passes (and at that point, I'm already in love with them), I confess and when the (so far) inevitable rejection comes, I give them the choice to "quit" the friendship, or we can continue as usual. I don't really fall "out of love" with them, and I wish I could do that, honestly.

At the same time, I don't think I'm doing anything wrong here. I don't think I'm leading people on either. I don't get mad at them for not reciprocating, I feel like I never really did, albeit before my friendships would not survive me confessing and getting rejected because it was just too devastating. Some people see these connections separately, some don't, and that's fine, I guess? Besides, if someone has a problem with me coming onto them to be friends while having the intention to date them, too, that's not my issue to sort out? If they're uncomfortable, they can leave and I'll move on too. It's simple.

I try to stick around and invest my time and energy into people who look available, and the moment I realize they are not, I pull away. Like, for example, how I keep my distance from partnered people (both because it's a huge trigger, and also because I can't date them), we can be friends, but things will stay very casual and detached.

Does that make me a bad person? A bad friend? I do not care. Life is short and I think it's best to spend my energy with people I might have a chance with, so I'm doing exactly that!

Now the problem is dealing with the frustration that comes with being friends with a lot of people that turned out to be unavailable anyway, who have rejected me and I chose to compromise by maintaining the relationship we have and... basically, suffering through it all one-sidedly, because if I pull away from them, I know I will want to keep my distance until these relationships fade into nothingness. And I'll be fine with it, huh? How messed up...

I know all these feelings come from how deeply lonely I feel, how deeply disconnected I am from others, and just how starved I feel for love - while receiving so much platonic love from these precious friends... it wounds me, it suffocates me, really. I'm thankful while feeling frustrated and resentful, too. It's an awful place to be...

[steamishot]

weekend

i'm definitely still feeling emotional about the move- possibly because i'm by myself a lot, and not very busy. it leads me to very tunneled thinking and rumination. on a side note, i tend to be more carefree in LA just because there's a lot more going on in life. i think it may take me a few weeks for the idea that i'm moving away and starting a new life back home to really sink in.

although i knew this move was coming and i was working so hard for it, i didn't expect to have such strong and mixed emotions once it became officially official. the easier thing for me to do is just cut ties immediately and quietly move away without saying bye to anyone. but staying here and mentally having a countdown is something i have to get used to. i'm dreading all the "farewell" hangouts with friends - all of us knowing it's the last time in (?) that we'll see each other. i'm not a fan of goodbyes. funnily enough, this is exactly the same amount of time (~3months) that i spent studying abroad in taipei. however, everyone came and left around the same time so it felt different. most of the friends i made in taipei went back to CA anyway. it was hardest to say bye to the friends i made who lived in other countries.

i met my new friend L at ceramics yesterday and today, and a part of me doesn't want to get closer to her (which is different from friends who i already consider close). i was never a person who could handle temporary/non-serious friends or relationships. usually if i'm continuously investing in something, it means i actively want the person in my life. she talked about september still being far away and that she wants to invite me to a concert and over to her place. part of me is like nuu, it's going to be even harder to say goodbye. but another part of me is like, well let's have fun while i'm still here. i'll likely see her at least 1x/week unless one of us is out of town, so we'll see where that goes.

ceramics: these 8 weeks of class flew by really quickly (plus i was out of town for a few sessions haha), there are only 3 more sessions of class! i finally put in my first piece to fire yesterday, and will need to wait about 2 weeks before i can glaze it. that means i need to throw more things asap so they can dry asap and then i can fire them asap to glaze asap.

i was feeling down about matt's work schedule this past week (a week of nights, 3-4 days off, then 10 days on (due to schedule switch/no PTO), 7 days off, and then another week of nights) because i've also been emotional/sensitive. i questioned if his new job would be as demanding and if his work schedule would bother me less over there. this would be our first time living together and having a routine in LA. logically, i can see our lives becoming much more balanced due to having family and community. i'm way more socially busy there too. also, having a car to get around would be really convenient - i know that we tend to get lazy leaving the house here bc of not wanting to walk or take the train somewhere. and the bigger living situation would be awesome.

the gods heard me because he was summoned and selected for jury duty yesterday! this is the most ballsy thing i've ever seen him do when it comes to work (guy has called out sick only once for the ER in these past 5 years). the trial he was selected for is for a duration of 4 weeks. this means that starting monday, he'll need to report to court M-F 9:30am-5pm for the next month. he gets to skip work (but still needs to work the weekends he was originally scheduled for). because the court is literally a 5 minute walk away, it'll be super convenient. i hate that his current hospital provides 0 PTO days for his role. i'm looking forward to this easy court time and his 1.5 months off in aug-sept.

work: i received an award for $5K! the last time i received it was in 2021 for $2K. i'm pretty sure they gave me this amount (which is the max) because i was technically doing ~1.5 roles for about half a year. in any case, i'm happy with the extra money.

friends: i feel like a loner here again. new friend L is actually leaving for washington for a month in a couple of weeks. T is away in vietnam. S is so busy with her life, that i can only manage to see her a couple times a month. LW is leaving NYC end of this month. R&T are in between dallas, LA and nyc so their schedule is complicated. i do miss having my parents and niece as my default buddies LOL. the next social thing i have is on tuesday, but i'm not looking forward to seeing A and i feel a bit sad about LW leaving.

[catsnuggler]

It's strange how I'm strong in some ways, but weak in others.

I generally avoid substances, and those I take, I take in controlled doses. I'm not an alcoholic, I have drinks on occasion - maybe 3 in a single night, at the very most, but usually only 1 or 2 drinks a night when I have drinks, which is maybe a few days out of an entire month. And these are light drinks, usually, like beer, or hard lemonade. I usually have food beforehand, too.

I used to be on Adderall. The highest dose, actually, eventually. I took it as prescribed, and no more. I decided to stop, partially because production was getting fucked, anyway, but also because it was keeping me up at night by raising my body temperature absurdly, making me sweat; yet I couldn't sleep if I didn't have a blanket, still can't, because my body wants some kind of comfort around it, something soft to make me feel "safe" enough to sleep. Adderall, as y'all might know, is chemically very similar to methamphetamine. In fact, anyone who's ever had meth can't take Adderall, because it drives them right back to addiction. So, the fact I just walked away from Adderall, no intervention, just out of my own free will, says I'm pretty resistant to substance abuse. Not totally, of course - there's surely something out there that would hook me if I took it, which is why I don't go out looking for anything to do - but I'm generally pretty resistant.

Despite what pot users say about it being non-addictive, it sometimes is. It's far from the worst drug - it's often pretty great - and it's certainly one of the least addictive. But it can be. No hate, just saying is all. I've had it less than 10 times in my life. Wouldn't mind using it occasionally, if I had or was getting into a job that wouldn't disqualify me if I had the occasional pot, but since so many do, I figure it's a risk I'd rather not take.

I've smoked before. Once. The only reason was that I was out drinking with someone close to me, and she had gotten plastered, and some guy started putting the moves on her. I asked if I could go out with them to smoke, even though I wasn't and am not a smoker, only because I wanted to keep my eyes on those two, and make sure she wasn't going to get swindled or anything by the guy. So, the cigarette was passed around, I took a puff, I passed it on, but after that night (where she wasn't messed with, but gosh was she sick from drinking too much), I never smoked a cigarette again. I didn't smoke even a single full cigarette that night, and I haven't put one in my lips since.

So. Substance-wise, I'm resilient. I say no, or I partake of a select few occasionally, and carefully.

That said, I often succumb to hopelessness, to anxiety, and to feeling like my very existence is "in the way" of others. I often get in my father's physical way in his house. Given he's fat (not hating, just stating), that isn't hard. He has a lot of struggles with his own body, and I feel for him, I really do - but when I happen to get in his way, he gets so fucking mad, you wouldn't even believe. He'll sometimes tell me I'm useless, ask what I'm good for - fuck, it's awful. I also feel I'm in the way on a societal level. I'm not rich, but I'm a white guy. I haven't had very much luck getting jobs, honestly, but I was afraid years ago, when I first started looking in 2018, that I might get a job because I'm a white guy, that I didn't immediately need, while some mother of color might need the income a lot more. I felt guilty when I briefly had a job in 2018, which stacked on top of my other job anxieties and frustrations. I still, even as I live with an unemployed father who depends on his inheritance, even as we would be homeless without that inheritance, even as we both need to get jobs ASAP so we won't be fucked when his inheritance runs out - I still fear that I might get a job that someone more disadvantaged than me needs more. That, even as a poor person who needs to secure some kind of income to maintain my existence, I would be maintaining injustice, by prioritizing the life of a white, able-bodied colonizer man (myself) over someone else. Sure, it's the colonial capitalists that are running things, I don't have power over the system as an individual, but... I dunno, I just feel like my very existence is in the way of others.

I also fear that I'll let my partner down. Their biological father, that scum of a human being, is a blue-eyed white with light brown hair. I'm a blue-eyed white man with light brown hair. Their maternal line has a long history of tragedy regarding how the men treated the women, as well as a history of being colonized - though by the Mexican government, incidentally, not the American government.

After every breakup, there's been some point, after being totally rejected, told we won't talk ever again, where I've hyperventilated to the point I nearly lost consciousness. That's also happened to me on at least one occasion when my father was saying something to me, I forget what it was, but it was something incredibly emotionally distressing to me, I think it was something alone the lines of him completely and utterly rejecting some group of people I care about, going on some tirade about them. Or maybe he was going directly after me and who I am. I don't know, I don't remember, I only remember that hewas only infuriated when I begged him to let me lay on the ground and stop yelling at me until I caught my breath, because I really was becoming lightheaded, starting to lose consciousness, yet he refused me, thought I was putting on an act, which was why he was so enraged by how lightheaded I was acting...because I was genuinely lightheaded.

There are so many things I don't know what to do anything about. At least I'm resistant to substance abuse, I guess.

[bucklikethedollar]

boy oh boy do i have some life ruining books to recommend!!

i’ll start off with the most “normal” one: Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. the story follows joe, an extremely relatable american everyman, after he gets blown up my a bomb in world war one. the explosion leaves him severely disfigured, resulting in him losing both legs, both arms, both eyes, his nose, ears, and his entire mouth. the whole book takes place in joe’s mind as he reflects upon what possible future he might have, his struggle to communicate with the doctors and nurses around him, and his profound rage at the american military. letting you know right now, this book is not for the faint of heart, it’s visceral and angry and touches something primal inside you like very few other books. expect to take breaks.

next up is Tender is the Flesh by Augustina Bazterrica. following a devastating worldwide pandemic, all animal meat is now extremely deadly to humans. instead of people becoming unanimously vegan, though, governments across the world decide to selectively breed and slaughter human livestock. the protagonist, marcos, is a high-ranking employee in one of these slaughterhouses who must grapple with his function in this gruesome new society when he falls in love with a piece of “livestock” he is gifted. if you have a weak stomach, skip this one. this book gives you detailed tours through human slaughterhouse, human breeding facilities, and human tanneries. this book is gruesome and exhausting and one of the best things i’ve read in recent memory.

ok, we’re done with the gross ones, i promise. next is The Grip of It by Jac Jemc. going into this, you’ll think it’s a standard haunted house story. it’s not. young couple julie and james have just moved into a small town to hopefully get james away from his gambling problem, but find that their house is… odd. there are countless hidden rooms, stories of children dying decades before, things going bump in the night, eerie drawings on the walls, an elderly neighbor always watching them, and bruises covering julie’s body. every turn of a page will leave you wondering what the truth is, who you can trust, and what is really going on in that house.

now we’re getting into the really weird territory with The Raw Shark Texts by Steven Hall. eric has amnesia. he awakes in a house that is… probably his. he finds letters from himself explaining his situation, meets with a therapist he’s apparently been seeing for years, and dreams about his dead fiancée. some of the letters he finds are… dangerous, though. literally. just by having read the text on the page, eric is in extreme peril, and now that you’ve read it, you are too. eric has to travel across the uk, outrun conceptual sharks, and drink paper, and it’s one of my all-time favorite books. this story is about a lot of things. grief, memory, the power of the written word, what it really means to be a person, to be alive. just writing this summary makes me want to read it again, i really can’t recommend it enough.

lastly, we have by far the weirdest item on this list, and also my favorite book ever: House of Leaves by Mark Danielewski. depending on what internet circles you’re in, you might’ve heard about this book already, but i’m gonna infodump about it anyway. this book is about zampanò, a blind old man who— i mean, this book is about will navidson, a documentarian who moves into a— no, this book is about johnny truant, a tattoo artist who compiles zampanò’s essays about— ugh. okay, let’s start over. the navidson record is not real. it is a documentary that does not exist, even in the universe of the book. even so, the late zampanò has written an extensive essay about this nonexistent documentary, which young tattoo artist johnny truant now feels compelled to compile and share with us. zampanò’s essay tells us that the navidson record is the story of will navidson and his family after they move into a house that is 1/4 of an inch bigger on the inside. well, that’s an oversimplification. it also has a single hallway that takes 5 1/2 minutes to traverse, a seemingly infinite and ever-changing labyrinth both underneath and within the house, and… something that lives in that impossible space. in case you can’t tell, this book is hard to describe. it, and the raw shark texts, are what’s called ergodic literature, meaning they use the literal text itself as a function of the narrative. in house of leaves, you’ll see pages with the text upside down, the word “house” is always printed in blue ink, some pages are diagonal, some have only a few words on them, there’s a page that’s just a few bars of sheet music. similarly to the raw shark texts, this book makes you a part of the story just because you’ve read it. this story spans multiple appendices, a collection of letters from johnny truant’s mother, and a companion album by the author’s sister, and is one of the most amazing pieces of art i’ve ever encountered. it’s by no means a light read, a complete full-color edition will come at about 750 pages, but every single one of them will grab you by the throat and not let go until you’re looking over your shoulder for minotaurs and wondering if your house has the same dimensions as it did yesterday. read this book.

that’s my main list, but here are a few honorable mentions:

The Last Wolf/Herman by Laszlo Krasznahorkai, Piranesi by Susanna Clarke, Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke And Other Misfortunes by Eric LaRocca, and The Boxman by Kobo Abe

happy reading!!

what is the best book you’ve ever read in ur entire life i need a book that will completely ruin my life hello please

[lunarticxenia]

Moon Signs Pt. 2

Hi guys here’s part 2 of the moon sign series! After I post this, I’m going to be focusing more on answering your questions, I have a lot to answer. Thanks so much for all the support! Without further ado, here’s Libra through Pisces moons! 

🌵Libra Moon: You guys LOVE attention, and you don’t even try to hide it LMAO. One of my good friends is a Libra moon and he literally loves to say outlandish things just to get a reaction from us and to get attention from us if we’re not talking to him enough in a conversation. Libra moons also love relationships and if underdeveloped they may feel incomplete without one. They can also be very dependent on their partner for happiness as well. However, they are romantic and in love with love. They’re also extremely sensitive and are very feminine. Even in men, it gives them a more feminine touch to their personality. They also hold their morals in very high regard. They have their set morals and won’t change them for anything or anyone. They also tend to hate conflict and usually shy away from confrontation. They’re also too nice, WAYYYYYY too nice. You guys need to be more assertive LMAO. They’re also extremely optimistic and if they don’t believe in that particular way they at least try to be optimistic with others. They’re always reminding you the glass is half full. Also, Libra moons are mad clingy. Even with those they’re not dating LMAO. My Libra moon friend whenever I try to leave the FaceTime Call, he’s like “Don’t go... :(”. They just love to be around the ones they love. They’re also in love with beauty, and all things beautiful in the world. They’re lovers of music, art, film, and literature. Libra moons also have a softness in their eyes, I can’t describe it. This girl I used to like has a Libra moon and her eyes were just so soft. They’re also extremely indecisive, they tend to flip flop between who they wanna be and what they wanna do. They also aren’t shy when it comes to compliments, they will compliment TF out of you. They’re the best hype man. They also put others before themselves a lot, and can be very shy upon first meeting them. However once they feel comfortable around you they open up. One last thing, I feel like they tend to like anyone who’s nice to them...don’t attack me. LMAO.  

🌵Scorpio Moon: I feel like Scorpio moons have about ten different playlists relating to their emotions and still won’t open up to anyone about how they feel. Scorpio moons I feel have such intense emotions that they just don’t deal with them and they tend to implode after a while. I relate to them a lot in that respect tbh with my Sun square Moon, because that’s how I am. You guys are also super passionate and super creative. Every Scorpio moon I’ve met has been really creative in some way whether it be makeup, fashion style, or artwork. I’ve also noticed that this is a very alluring placement, there’s this intriguing way about them, and like Aries Moons, they have a fire in their eyes. Their gaze is INTENSE. They’re also very selective with who they let close to them, they don’t let just anybody in. They’re also very good at reading other people and seeing people’s true intentions. They have an extremely good intuition. If underdeveloped this can be used to manipulate other people, as well as being compulsive liars. Scorpio moons are also very protective over the ones they love. If you mess with anyone they care about, they will kill you. End of story. Also I feel like every Scorpio moon I’ve met has been through the wringer, like they’ve really had some hard experiences, it’s so sad to me. Scorpio moons are also extremely stubborn, remember this is a fixed sign. Scorpio moons ain’t playing, once they’ve settled on something, they’re not budging. Also, can we just say, masters at investigating people. These are the friends you want stalking your ex’s social media. They will find out everything. They’re also really good psychologists as well, almost all the Scorpio moons I’ve met are actually Psychology majors LMAO. They’re very good at finding the root causes of people’s issues. I also feel like Scorpio moons undergo a lot of transformations in their lives. I’ve known a Scorpio moon for about 10 years now and he’s undergone so many different transformations in his life. Mentally and physically. They’re also extremely sarcastic and have a tendency to be pessimistic. They’re also mad scary when angry. I’ve seen them angry before, as an Aries moon, even I get a little scared.... love y’all tho. 

🌵Sagittarius Moon: The funniest people ever. Sagittarius moons always have me laughing my ass off. Their sense of humor is very diverse. They tend to stick with sarcasm and like to say outlandish things to make people laugh. Also, I feel like Sagittarius moons tend to go for science/math oriented careers or at least have an interest in those subjects. I know four Sag moons, and they’re all in STEM it’s actually crazy. They’re also extremely blunt and honest, especially when it comes to people they don’t like LMAO. They make it very clear when they don’t like someone, it’s so funny. They’re also just so much fun, like they’re genuinely so much fun to hang out with. I feel like I’ve never not had a good time hanging out with a Sagittarius moon. I feel like Sag moons however tend to struggle with asserting themselves a lot of times, until they get really fed up.  They’re very much go with the flow kinda people, and this can be to their detriment especially with the ones they love, they don’t wanna rock the boat. However, they also make really good mediators and are good at settling arguments. They also really like to travel, and likely have traveled a lot. All the Sagittarius moons I know have traveled to at least 4+ countries. They love traveling the world, and I’ve also noticed move or want to move far away from their childhood home. They wanna explore everything the world has to offer. My cousin who’s a Sag moon left her parents’ house to move a few states away and my other friend who’s a Sag moon wants to move to the other side of the country. These individuals also tend to like foreign culture as well. I’ve noticed Sagittarius moons tend to like foreign music or foreign tv shows. I feel like they also tend to ignore their emotions when they get sad and just don’t like to deal with their emotions. They also don’t like to talk about how they feel and will brush sad things off because it’s just too upsetting for them. However, once the emotions boil over, just like their anger, they will blow up LMAO. I’ve also noticed that they’re really good at teaching people things? Like my Sag moon friend explained this Chemistry equation to me I couldn’t understand and I got it after 10 minutes. Natural teachers. 

🌵 Capricorn Moon: Guys, it’s okay to open up. You don’t have to pretend to be so strong all the time, you’re not weak for showing your emotions. Anyway, Cap moons have high expectations for people, and will not tolerate any bs from people. I seriously commend them for that. I feel like Cap moons struggle with how their points are being expressed, they can say one thing, but it’s seen as something else. While Capricorn moons may struggle with expressing their emotions, I haven’t found them to be closed off or cold when meeting them. Every Capricorn moon I’ve met has warmed up to me very quickly and have been super nice. I feel like they’re very friendly and once they have a conversation with you they’re really warm and kind. Also, they’re not afraid of anything?? Except for showing their feelings maybe. But like, they’re so open to trying new things like scary rollercoasters and aren’t afraid to fight for themselves if they have to. Also, super fucking ambitious. I wish I could be ambitious. These people will really have like three jobs, be in school, and tend to household responsibilities. I don’t know how you guys do it. Now everyone says Capricorn moons are just analytical and systematic when confronted with conflict, and I personally haven’t found that to be true. If they feel wronged?? Nah. They’re not going to be systematic or logical or anything. They will go off. As for personal challenges, yes they’ll be more analytical. But I feel like everyone boils down Cap moons to emotionless and machine-like nerds, which I find to be very untrue. Capricorn moons are very soft once they’re vulnerable with you, and genuinely feel like they’re bothering people when they show their emotions and feel weak for showing them. Also I’ve noticed that their mom is a big motivator for their success. Their moms always push them to do their best in work and school. If poorly aspected, they could feel too pressured by their moms to do well. Also, they’re so underrated for being funny. They have a really dry sense of humor and it’s well developed. I also feel like they get overlooked for putting others before themselves, when it comes to the people they love they’ll do anything for them. Brb gonna go give my Cap moon friends a hug. 

🌵Aquarius Moon: You guys are just so unique. There’s something unique about each and every Aquarius moon, whether it’s a quirk or a hobby. These people are literally the best to talk to. It’s so easy to have a conversation with them, they really can talk about anything. I’ve also noticed that Aquarius moons tend to be interested in astrology and tarot and things of that kind. Every Aquarius moon I’ve met has been really interested in it, and even involved in it. I feel like they also have big dreams, and have big plans for themselves. Aquarius moons also love to get lost in their music and tend to use it as an escape. This can be a problem because they tend to avoid dealing with their feelings. They also go between reacting to things really heavily vs not reacting at all. It just seems like it goes back and forth. They speak up with things are unjust however only to their friends or online. They just don’t like to deal with face to face conflict in that regard. They also give really great advice. My best friend is an Aquarius moon and she always gives me the best advice. She knows me better than I know myself tbh. I feel like Aquarius moons relish in being unique LMAO. I’m 99% sure they had an “I’m not like other girls” phase. I feel like this placement always tends to space out and daydream a lot. They also aren’t the types to just lash out at people, their anger is more subtle (unless they have other placements of course). I feel like Aquarius moons also have a lot of friends but they tend to have a small group of friends that they tend to be super super close with. They’re also...really charming? I don’t know what it is, but like every single one I’ve met has been really charming and likable. They also have a really goofy sense of humor and love to do wild shit to make people laugh. I feel like some downsides of Aquarius moons are that they tend to be too analytical and rationalize things too much, and they inadvertently invalidate other people’s feelings. Aquarius moons are also super open minded to all opinions. I have a friend who I tend to disagree with on certain issues but they’ve always been open to hearing my opinion. They also love to travel too. I’ve noticed that as well. 

🌵Pisces Moon: To think, I was almost one of you guys. No seriously I almost was, if I were born four hours earlier I would’ve been a Pisces moon LMAO. Anyhoo, Pisces moons are just so sweet. I don’t know how else to start, they literally are the sweetest people and give off this mystical type of aura. They’re very otherworldly. Also, these people daydream 24/7. They put Aquarius moons to shame in daydreaming. This girl I like is a Pisces moon and I always catch her daydreaming LMAO. They’re also extremely sensitive too and feel things so deeply. They try to hide how they feel from people, but you can see it in their eyes. I can always tell when my Pisces moon friend is upset just by the look in her eyes. They also tend to be introverted and it takes a while for them to warm up to someone. My co-worker is a Pisces moon and it took 2 weeks for her to finally start talking to me LMAO. They also have really vivid and wild dreams too. I feel like my Pisces moon friend is always telling me about some wild dream they had like that they were in a castle or in an ocean. They also can be really moody, they can be fine one second and then get really sad out of nowhere. Their emotions are like the ocean. I feel like another downside of Pisces Moons are that they can be very manipulative however this is really with any underdeveloped water moon/sun placement. I also feel like they tend to be escapists a lot. They don’t like to deal with reality a lot, and they see the best in everything and everyone even if it’s to their demise. They’re also super friendly and are nice to everyone they meet, even if they’re reserved they’re still very sweet. They’re also extremely creative too, I feel like every Pisces moon I’ve ever met has some sort of creative hobby. My co-worker who’s a Pisces moon is working on becoming a photographer and her stuff is AMAZING. I think that’s because they see the best in the world and the beauty in everything; and they know how to show that in their work so others can see the world like they do. They’re also super empathetic and are really good listeners. You can talk to them about anything and feel understood. :) 

So this wraps up my moon sign series! I hope you guys liked it! Again, don’t take offense these are just my opinions on each moon sign! Hope you guys enjoyed, and if you don’t see your moon sign here it’s likely in part one. 

[weepingvoidpenguin]

One of Your Favorites

Jealous Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have an objective. Get Rumlow to confess. Simple enough, right? No. Aside from his usual condescending attitude towards you, Bucky has made it extremely apparent that he doesn’t think you’re capable of - well, anything, but especially not handling Rumlow. And yet, he is the biggest challenge of this entire ordeal.

Warning: T R I G G E R WARNING!! ATTEMPTED SA, DRUGS, language, light smut. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ IF SA WILL TRIGGER YOU. 

Word Count: 8.3k

   “We have good intel stating he’s working as a double agent for HYDRA. Selling information, exploiting tactics, even going so far as to tell them where we’ll be and when.” Natasha scanned the room, making sure she had everyone’s attention during the briefing. 

   You slouched back in your swivel chair and twisted to-and-fro slightly with your hands gripping the arm rests on either side. It took all of your willpower to act engrossed in her words. And you meant every single drop. You’d been paying attention, sure, but the only issue was the dominating presence two seats to your right and directly in your line of sight to Natasha. You rolled your chair to the left to clear the path for the third time, only for him to block your way without missing a beat. The growl that left your mouth was nearly involuntary. Nearly.

   How long would this man act like a child? Despite his graceful and seemingly unsuspecting movements, you were fully aware his placement was intentional. This was not the first, nor did you doubt that it would be the last, time that Bucky acted impudently toward you. Frankly, you’d grown bored of his behavior. It was the same thing everyday. He would act a nuisance during the briefings, speak over you whenever he had the chance, steal the limelight from you and invalidate any concerns or thoughts you shared. The whole charade grew tiring and he had been dancing on thin ice for months now.

   You averted your gaze from burning holes through the freshly washed, brown locks and switched your attention back up to the redhead. Thankfully, too, because you managed to catch the end of her sentence just as she locked eyes with you.

   “And that’s why Y/N is going to be the one to extract the information from him,” she finished.

   You blinked, “Wait, what?” 

   Bucky straightened his posture and threw a quick glance your way, “Yeah, what? She’s got no heat, couldn’t toast marshmallows if we gave her all day. She shouldn’t lead this, she wouldn’t know how,”

   “Well, tonight might be a good time to start learning, then,” Steve chimed in, throwing a wink your way. You smiled and appreciated his aid, not because you needed it but because at this point, you were seething and if you opened your mouth to defend yourself this meeting would go south, quickly. Luckily, Steve always believed you were capable of a great deal of things and knew you strove for more experience so any opportunity to lead or expand was one he thought you should take. 

   “Besides,” Tony spoke up, twirling a platinum pen between his fingers from across the table, “our little double-agent has always had the hots for Y/N so unless you’re gonna be the one to bat your eyelashes at him and get him alone in a room, Mr. Barnes, we have to use his own flaws against him.” He turned to face you and held up a hand, “Not to say that liking you is a flaw, you’re great Hot-Stuff but exploiting him is our best option indefinitely,”

   “Do I have to seduce him?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and raising a brow towards Nat, trying your damned hardest to avoid the unmistakable glare the brown-haired super soldier was sending your way. 

   “The only thing you have to do is extract any information on him that you can. Get him a little drunk, catch him in a slip-up or two, take note of any inconsistent stories and be on your merry way,” she reassured, “How you manage to do that is up to you,”

   “Ooh, extortion,” Clint chirped up from the far back corner, his hands rubbing together maliciously around an arrow he pulled from his sheathe, something you noticed he did a lot when he was uninterested; be it a person, mission, or conversation.

   “No. Not extortion,” Steve shut it down and you chuckled at how Clint’s countenance fell into one of disappointment. 

   “Not yet anyway,” Natasha mumbled and you sighed as she walked around the room and handed each of you a folder with your individual objectives inside.

   “But he’s such a pervert,” you grumbled.

   “All the easier,” 

~

   The rest of the day was drudged with Nat while she taught the pertinence of body language (both yours and theirs), verbal ruses, and overall ensnarement. You bat your eyelashes until you were certain you would catch enough wind to fly away, smirked enough that your cheeks began to ache and raised your eyebrows ‘til you felt the impending wrinkles on your forehead. By the end of the drill you weren’t sure you were even going to make it to the company party from the migraine creeping its way on.

   “How’s the bait coming along?” His voice alone caused you to roll your eyes but you paid no mind while you rubbed at your temples and stood up alongside Natasha.

   “She’s not gonna be able to lie to me any time soon but she can flirt her way to whatever she wants,”

   “Benefits of targeting a narcissistic misogynist, they don’t think anyone can fool them.” Tony belted as he sauntered into the room with strawberries, offering them out to you while he munched on one.

   “She’ll still mess it up,” Bucky countered, “Make someone else do it,”

   You plucked the fruit off Tony’s tray and examined it, trying to figure out whether you were going to consume it or use it as a weapon.

   “I really appreciate your words of encouragement, James. Unfortunately, they’re not wanted, nor are they needed.” You bit into the fruit and glided towards the door, looking over your shoulder at the super soldier, “So unless you actually have something to contribute, I suggest you stay the hell out of my way while I get the job done,”

   Nat walked out behind you and handed you a tiny, skin-colored device meant to conceal itself and you placed it in your ear. 

   “The conversation is gonna be recorded so we can catch any inconsistencies. We’ll all be able to hear what you’re saying so tread on delicate waters but don’t be afraid to shake mountains if you have to,”

   You nodded and opened your door for her to enter your room knowing she’d want to help you get ready for the event. Natasha, shocking as it turns out, enjoys company while preparing for events. She would much prefer to be surrounded by people than be alone. You never had gall to ask her why that is. Or maybe you respected her too much to ask.

   An hour had passed, maybe two, but you enjoyed the silence between you both. There was no need to fill the empty quiet when it was so comfortable and welcoming. You two spoke without words at times and that was probably your favorite personal skill. Eventually, there came a knock on your door and you opened to find Wanda with her flat iron and make-up bag in tow. It’d long since been decided that your room was the gathering center.

   Wanda helped you finish touching up your outfit and you waited on your bed while they finished getting ready. Nat occasionally quizzed you on certain situations and how you should act depending on the tones and moods of the conversation. You tried to explain that you didn’t have difficulty reading a room but Nat tested you all the same. 

   “And if he puts his hand on your thigh?” She called out from your bathroom.

   “Then he loses it,” you practically sang in response.

   You were met with a flying hairbrush and laughed at the onslaught.

   “You’re not the only one with that mentality,” Wanda called out as well, her iron glossing over thin strands of hair.

   “Nat knows I can handle myself.” You sat up on the bed and went over to your closet to collect your favorite pair of shoes to go along with the formal attire Nat selected for tonight. “What a coincidence that we happen to have a company party the same night we have to extract information,” you hollered over your shoulder, moving aside terribly worn shoes while you scoured for the pair you had in mind.

   “This objective has been in the works for weeks now,” Nat released the tendril of hair from around the barrel and pinned it to her head so it could cool.

   “Wow, thanks for the heads up, then.” You gripped the desired pair and placed them beside your nightstand for later.

   “The plan wasn’t solid until we knew for a fact that Rumlow was coming. It’s a company party so it’s not mandatory but once he heard you were making an appearance, it didn’t take very much persuading,”

   You rolled your eyes and plopped back down on your mattress, “He’s so annoying, I doubt I can hold much of a conversation with him,”

   “Take a shot or two to ease your nerves, if he sees you drinking it’ll put him at ease too. He’ll be more inclined to drink,” Natasha recommended. “But don’t act too out of character. If you were always curt and short with him and suddenly you start acting over-friendly, he may get suspicious. He’s an idiot but he’s a paranoid one,”

   You nodded, taking a mental note to have a half-empty bottle in your grasp when Rumlow arrives. If he thinks you’ve already been drinking, he might also consider catching up. 

   “Y/N? Not uptight for once?” Wanda sarcastically questioned. “I can’t picture it,”

   “Oh, fuck off,” you grumbled and in turn received laughter from the two girls. “Besides, of all of us I’m by far the least uptight. Barnes takes the cake for that one,”

   There was a beat of silence that you didn’t register before you were met with a response.

   “Ya know, he’s not as bad as you paint him out to be.” Nat unpinned the curl from her head and moved on to the next section, “He’s got some serious loyalty and always willing to volunteer first for everything,”

   You lifted your head to stare at her reflection through the mirror, “What are you talking about? He’s annoying and irate and lacks a filter,”

   “Mmm, irate isn’t the word I would use,” Wanda countered, looking over to Natasha.

   Nat shook her head in response, “I’d lean more towards . . . over-protective,” 

  “Much better,” Wanda agreed.

   You squinted your eyes at their image and felt the corners of your lips turn downwards, “Over-protective? Since when are you two defending Barnes?”

   “We’re not defending him, per say.” Wanda glanced over to Nat, “We’re just trying to give you a fresh perspective,” 

   “You could give me a brand new pair of eyes and I’d still see him the same,” you retorted, now leaning on your elbows due to the strain on your neck. 

   They ignored the comment, “And he’s only annoying to you,”

   “You’re telling me he doesn’t annoy you at all?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.

   “More like . . . he doesn’t go out of his way to mess with us.” Nat applied a nude color onto her lips.

   “So you agree that he goes out of his way to irritate me,” you stated rather than asked.

   “That’s been made very apparent,” Wanda responded. “But you have to wonder why,”

   You huffed a little and sprawled back out on the bed just to result in staring at the ceiling above. If you looked hard enough your mind would create pictures from the chaos of the cracks and shapes began to form. Sometimes, when the night lay still and life seemed to dwindle at the edges of your reality, you could swear a familiar face fashioned together and your imagination ran wild with the images you’d see. Some that brought a warmth to your cheeks even now. 

   You shot up out of bed and shook the memories from your vision. Ugh. He haunts you even when he’s not actively tormenting you. How he’s managed to crawl his way so deeply within your skin you had no idea but you fought for control of your thoughts whenever you caught them slipping into that hellhole.

   “Or slipping into euphoria,” Wanda chimed in.

   “Wanda!” You scolded, crossing your arms, “Euphoria my ass,”

   “Yeah, he thinks so too,” she continued and you chucked the abandoned hairbrush back their way. 

   “Stay out of my head,” you jokingly sniped at her but was met with a low chuckle.

   “I didn’t even have to be in your head to know what you were thinking of,” Nat defended and caught your weapon of choice.

   “Are you guys done yet?” You rolled your eyes and stretched yourself out before swiping up the pair of heels you’d chosen and sliding them onto your feet.

   “Why? Are you in a hurry to see a certain someone?” Natasha teased and Wanda let out an eruption of laughter.

   “All right, I’m done.” You made a beeline for the door and threw it open, “Lock up when you’re finished!” You bellowed over your shoulder and made your way to the top floor of the building where all the parties are typically held.

   You didn’t run into anyone on the way up and you used that time to calm yourself, prying inch by inch away from the invasive thoughts that called for you in the darkest hours of the night. But, then again, maybe those tormenting thoughts weren’t that bad? You mean, he certainly IS handsome, very much so actually. And he has the most knee-wobbling smirk you’d ever come to know, not to mention those little tricks he does with his knives always manage to entrance you. God, did he know how to use a knife. 

   On more than one occasion had you caught yourself staring at how his hands encapsulated the hilt of the blade. How they clenched and relaxed, drawing out some of the more prominent veins on one of the extremities; of course, you were even more so enticed by the hand he hid as well. You’d imagined what it felt like to have such strong hands grip onto your thighs and coax you into spreading them open with just a few teasing touches here and there. You couldn’t fathom the front you’d put up would last very long, he was stellar at pulling reactions from you. He’d see you break under his caresses and he’d degrade you like he always did but this time it’d emit a different response from you, one that made you whimper and shake. At that, he’d probably call you a good girl, he definitely seems the type to switch between degradation and praise, and would press his mouth up just where you wanted it the most. You’d try your hardest to be quiet but damn the way that tongue moved against you and the way he’d pull you harder against his face at each sound of pleasure you let slip past your lips. He’d enjoy it, too. Eyes closed as he devours you, he likes to put on a show for you to watch. Give you a memory that’ll slick your thighs later that night if he hadn’t fucked you into a coma by then. He’d make you watch him and if you dared to close your eyes you’d earn a firm, cold smack on your ass. He knows you like when he uses temperature play. He growls a little too, he can’t help his innate behavior. Then, just as the accumulation is coming to its apex he’d pull away abruptly and kiss you straight on your mouth so you can taste yourself and that’d earn him another whimper which would result in another smack that leads to that cold metal trailing its way to your core and just as he pushes the tip of his finger inside-

   You cough and straighten your posture as the elevator door opens. When had you leaned up against the back wall of the elevator? Oh Gods, you could feel the slick at the apex of your thighs and you squeezed them together as inconspicuously as you could in fear that you were producing a . . . scent that would be rather difficult to conceal. But the slick only grew worse when you locked eyes with the person stepping into the elevator.

   Fuck.

   “That’s what you chose to wear?” He asked, a certain venom in his tone that immediately calmed the ache in your heat.

   “And what would you have me wear instead, Barnes?” You quipped back, your body facing forward as he took his place beside you in the cramped space.

   There was a beat of silence. Then another. “Not that,” he responded.

   “Well I’ll make sure to ask you next time since you have such impeccable taste,” you retorted, your eyes yet to abandon the sight of the closing doors.

   You weren’t sure of all the effects of the Super Soldier Serum that had been injected into Bucky and all that it heightened but you prayed to any God that would listen that his hearing wasn’t one of those things. You were too preoccupied with attempting to settle the hot pulse beating between your legs to worry about how loud your discomfort came across.

   “What do you look so nervous about?” Bucky’s gruff voice prodded. “You can’t possibly be nervous about the mission considering how big-headed you are,”

   You took a deep, long breath and held it to soothe you. Had you not been so previously preoccupied, you’d have given him hell for the insult. “I’m not nervous about that,” you sniped and rested back against the cool wall to satiate your burning skin before lifting your gaze to him only to find him already examining you.

   “Of course not, I just said that,” he retorted, bringing a gloved hand to his face to rub along his jaw, “there’s obviously nothing for you to worry about,”

   You scoffed, “And why is that, Barnes?” Cue the dramatic crossing of your arms. 

   “You’re smarter than Rumlow and significantly better trained. Overall, he really doesn’t hold a candle to your ability,” He paused for a second, his whole frame tensing until he remembered to relax, “But that’s not really saying much considering it’s Rumlow,” 

   You hadn’t noticed you raised your eyebrows until you felt your face fall, “Ah, there he is. You had me worried there for a second, Barnes. Thought you might actually try something new and display common decency for once,”

   A corner of his mouth turned up subtly and he shook his head. You trailed your gaze down to his hidden hand and stared long enough to burn a hole through the fabric.

   “If something’s bothering you, Dollface, go ahead and speak up,” 

   You weren’t sure what possessed you to say anything, especially knowing how touchy the subject was for him but the words left your mouth anyway, “I don’t know why you insist on hiding yourself,”

   He lurched his head back, your statement seeming to have a physical affect on the man and you mentally slapped yourself for saying anything.

   “I’m not hiding myself,”

   “But you are,” you interrupted, your thoughts coming out in pools of candor, “you aren’t your hand. You aren’t your past. You are you. Presently. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. That’s not even the same hand you had back then. It’s not tainted and neither are you. I say drop the gloves,”

   “And why would I care about what you say?” He growled, his eyebrows furrowed together and his neck tight in potential restraint.

   The elevator dinged and you looked towards the opening doors, “You don’t have to but they don’t look right with your suit either.” You walked through the exit and sauntered over to the others who had already gotten the party started, leaving Bucky dumb-founded behind you. “I need a shot,”

   “Already ready,” Tony quipped up, holding the small glass in the air for everyone to behold before bringing his cheek to yours in mock welcoming, “This’ll up your tolerance for the next hour, try to get all your drinking done within that time-frame,”

   You pulled away with a warm smile after faux kissing his cheek, “Finally!” you displayed and threw the liquid back in one swift motion, your face scrunching together against your will.

   “Yeah, she’s got a kick to her,” he mumbled and handed you a fruity drink to chase it down with. 

   You went around and said hi to everyone as you recognized most of those present. You made small chatter with those lesser known and drank the liquid in your hand significantly quicker than you’d like to. You excused yourself after you finished the drink and walked over to the bar, scanning the room as you were handed another glass. No Rumlow in sight.

   You headed towards the foosball table and gripped the handles after setting the beverage down on the counter beside you. You flinched as a reflection of light caught your eye and at first you thought your glass was the source. Until your eyes fixated on the reflection’s actual origin. To your far right, and up a few steps you found Bucky conversing with Steve, a dull light emitting from his hand. Not a glove in sight.

   “So, where’s your boyfriend?” Sam inquired when he filled the opposing spot.

   You rolled your eyes, “Bucky’s not my boyfriend,”

   “Bucky?” Sam’s tone chirped up teasingly, a knowing look wearing on his face.

   Your grip tightened around the handles and you slowly pulled away to throw the little white ball through the circle, your hands immediately twisting the miniscule players around. Your eyes shot back and forth, your sight never leaving the darting sphere. Sam still managed to win the first point.

   “Ha!” He shouted in triumph, bringing his finger up as if to scold you, “Don’t think you got away with that comment either, Y/N,”

   “What comment?” you questioned and gulped most of your drink before slamming it back down on the table.

   You heard your earpiece come to life with quiet static and you tried to keep your face masked. Rumlow had entered. Not a surprise either, the party was finally starting to pick up now.

   Sam threw the ball in and you turned the players meticulously this time, brute strength hadn’t helped you earlier so maybe you should take it slow. Steve made his way over to the table and threw his drink back, the liquid trickling down the side of his face before he wiped it away. Sam won the second point.

   “I play winner,” Tony chimed, standing beside Steve.

   You made a point to catch up and now you two were tied at three each. 

   “Best out of five?” You proposed, quirking an eyebrow at Sam.

   “If you didn’t want to play anymore you could’ve just said that,” he teased and you smirked at him as Tony made a subtle show of handing you another drink and you finished your second. “Loser takes two shots?”

   “Deal.” You nodded, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice as a small crowd began to form around you two. Rumlow amongst them. 

   Your jaw dropped when Sam shot the ball directly into your goal as soon as he’d let the ball go.

   “What the fuck?” You shouted, “No fair! That doesn’t count!”

   Thor erupted in laughter to your right and you blinked slowly, staring at the gargantuan man. 

   “It most certainly does,” Sam shouted back, his grin practically touching his ears.

   “Sam, take it easy on her,” Bucky muttered from beside him, quickly averting his gaze from yours and his expression loosened, “The brat hates losing,”

   “Brat?” You snarled.

   Bucky took a swig of his beer, watching you the entire time and you reeled back the fire beginning to form in your chest just to bring your drink up to your lips and chug the entire thing down. You handed it over to Tony who left to replace it. 

   “Last point,” Sam stated, “It’s not too late to quit now,”

   You shook your head and blinked away the feign distortion you were supposed to have. “Just play the ball,”

   “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teased and threw the ball in. 

   You wanted to win. Desperately. But you had a character to play tonight and she was supposed to be drunk. So you hit your hand against the corner of the table just as Sam happened to make the winning point. You grumbled and threw him a glare when Tony broke through the crowd.

   “Coming through,” he shouted, handing two small glasses to you while you gripped your knuckles in pain. “Noooo, you’re not getting out of taking these. C’mon, take your punishment,”

   “Yes, Daddy,” you grumbled and cringed at your own words when the realization hit you. Whatever. You were supposed to be drunk, anyway. 

   “Daddy?” Tony quipped and pulled the drinks back towards himself, “Maybe you should be cut off,”

   “What?” You argued, leaning slightly on the table with your hand and snatching the drinks from Tony’s hold, effectively spilling some on yourself. “See?” You lifted up the half empty shot glass, “This barely counts as a shot,”

   “I’ll get her a new one,” Rumlow offered and disappeared before anyone could argue. 

   “She really doesn’t need another-” Bucky tried to interject and take the shots from you but you twisted around and chugged down the one full glass.

   Water.

   You looked up at Tony and his smirk was barely noticeable. But you could tell. Bucky nearly ripped the other drink from you but Tony blocked his path and you exaggerated your next drink as Rumlow broke back into the crowd, shot in tow.

   “Here.” Rumlow’s calloused hand held the drink up above you and you stared at him with a questioning look. “Open,” he ordered and the fire burning in your chest fought to destroy everything in its vicinity. You bit your lip in refrain but tossed your head back and opened your mouth.

   Static broke over your earpiece. Don’t drink that! Wanda’s voice erupted.

   Your eyes widened as the liquid made its way down but you coughed hard to stop whatever you could. 

   Why? Steve’s voice came through right after.

   You choked on the liquid and shut your eyes at the way it burned its way down. You reached your hand out to grab someone’s drink to ease the burning and grasped a tall glass and tossed it back. The burning didn’t ease up and you felt a hand rest on your back.

   “Are you okay?” Rumlow’s voice rang out and your skin nearly recoiled from the contact, “How about we get you some water?”

   You looked up at him when the burning subsided minimally and nodded your head, letting him lead the way to the bar. He parted the crowd and someone took step right behind you to follow when the presence suddenly died out abruptly. You turned around to check who it had been and found no one.

   Why? Steve asked again.

   Where’s Wanda? Bruce broke through.

   You lifted your head and flitted your gaze around the room until you found the familiar Sokovian on the couch, laying down with her eyes closed. You pulled away from Rumlow but his grip on your hand tightened and his steps grew in haste. You whirled your head to yell at him but the way the room swayed with the movement cause you to shut your mouth in surprise. 

   Didn’t Tony say you would have a higher tolerance?

   “Couch...” you muttered, pointing over your shoulder just in case your target was curious enough to ask but the message was delivered.

   Rumlow hoisted you up onto the bar stool and stood on your open side, using his body to keep you from falling over. Or to cage you in.

   “I don’t feel good,” You rested an elbow on the countertop and held your head up.

   “I can’t imagine you would. You’ve been chugging those drinks like they’re water.” Despite that, Rumlow motioned to the bartender and asked for two more.

   You giggled and your head lulled forward with the action. You let Rumlow catch you from tumbling over. Why did your body feel so heavy? Not to mention the way everything around you dazed about. You couldn’t catch a single action, let alone attempt to read Rumlow’s body language. But you did happen to notice the way his eyes searched the room before coming back to you.

   “You okay?” You rested your forearm against his chest and pushed slightly to allow yourself a better view of his face.

   A small smirk, “Am I okay? What about you?”

   You smacked your lips and brought the ice cold glass to your lips. That’s not water. “I’m doing reeaalllyy good,” you drawled.

   Rumlow chuckled and pushed you deeper into the chair, “I can tell.” He took a sip, his attention never faltering from your body, “Just be sure to pace yourself from here on out,”

   You made a show of cocking your head to the side and letting a smile sprawl onto your face as you studied him. 

   “What?” he questioned, a curious lift in his brow.

   You shook your head gently and kept your gaze on him over the brim of your glass, “You’re just . . . not what I was expecting,”

   “And what were you expecting?” 

   Don’t forget to bat your eyelashes. “Worse,”

   “Sorry to disappoint,” he jeered, his attention once again cast throughout the room before centering back on you.

   You followed his action but quickly came to the conclusion that moving any pace faster than a sloth was going to make you nauseous and you could barely keep a thought together. Your stomach began to rise in your chest and the fear seized your throat shut. Why couldn’t you hold onto a thought for longer than a second? It was like you were aware of your lack of consciousness but could do nothing about it because any thought or bout of panic phased through just as soon as it arrived.

   “What are you so tense for, Rumlow? You know you’re not currently on the clock, right?” You teased, your head leaning on your shoulder as you spoke.

   He brought his drink up to his lips and finished it off in three gulps, “I’m not tense. It’s just hard to turn it off sometimes,”

   You nodded slowly and pushed your drink towards him, “Relax. You know everyone here,”

   He shook his head and placed your drink back in front of you before asking for another beer.

   “And two shots!” You shouted to the bartender, throwing two of your fingers high up and instantly regretting how fast you’d done it.

   “Are you trying to get me drunk?” He asked you, a side smirk beginning to form.

   You placed your finger over your lips and hushed, “Shh, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You dragged your lower lip down and his eyes fixated to commit the scene to memory. “Besides, I always feel dumb if I’m the only one drunk,”

   He motioned to the rest of the party, “Believe me, Sugar, you’re not the only one enjoying yourself,”

   “But are you?” 

   “Am I what?” 

   “Enjoying yourself?” 

   Your skin crawled when he placed his rough hand on your barren thigh, “Absolutely,”

   Don’t forget what you’re here for. Don’t let the objective slip. Gods, how the fuck were you supposed to retain anything when you were so sleepy? And why was it so warm?

   “Hot,” you mumbled, fishing around in your glass for an ice cube to rub on your face.

   “Thank you,”

   You threw your head back in laughter and nearly earned yourself an up-close and personal view of the floor had Rumlow not wrapped an arm around your waist and held you steady. Once he was certain you weren’t going to toss yourself onto the ground, he parted your legs and stood between them to keep you rooted to your seat.

   All the movement had you spinning and you white-knuckled Rumlow’s cotton shirt to keep yourself grounded to something, anything. Red warning lights were firing up in your chest and you tensed with the way your body buckled to the panic coursing through you. Your heart pounded in your ears and danced across your skin, lighting it on fire and making the room too stuffy to bear. Please, no. Not now. Focus. Snap out of it. Come back, stay back. Your breathing hitched and you looked down at the sensation crawling its way up higher on your thigh. Too hot. Everything was too hot, if you didn’t get out of this now you would never-

   “Vision!” You cheered, happy to see your friend.

   The presence on your thigh recoiled slightly.

   “I’m taking Wanda to her room, seems she’s had a bit too much to drink,” Vision informed and you’d only just then noticed the body in his hold.

   “Wanda!” You smiled, admiring her peaceful features as she slept in his arms. You poked at her cheek then jerked your gaze back up to Vision. “What? Wanda doesn’t drink,”

   She’s not acting, Sam’s voice erupted in your ear and you flinched at the sound. 

   Vision’s eyes went from you to Rumlow then back to you slowly, “Y/N . . . are you okay?”

   You beamed at him and slowly brought up your thumb. “Good,” you responded.

   You followed Vision’s gaze back up to Rumlow and smiled at the agent beside you. You guess he’s kind of cute. In a strange, unsettling way.

   “She’s had a lot to drink, so we’re just trying to slow down the pace. Aren’t we, Y/N?” Rumlow looked down at you.

   You nodded fervently, “Yup!” 

   Vision hesitated but knew he didn’t pose much of a threat with Wanda in his arms unconscious, so he quirked a smile and walked towards the hall.

   Someone get to Y/N, something’s not right, Vision ordered and you lifted your head up to find him. You could have sworn he just left.

   “Here.” Rumlow handed you a glass, “Drink this, it’ll cool you down,” 

   You stared at the glass in his hold and looked up at him, “You drink it first,” you slurred, holding your finger up at him.

   He cocked his head to the side but took a swig of the drink and you watched it go down his throat. You shrugged and grabbed at it.

   Do not drink that, Nat ordered from somewhere and you looked around in wonder at who she was yelling to.

   Bucky, Sit down! Steve growled.

   Like hell, responded a voice you knew all too well.

   Your smile grew and you looked through the crowd, “Bucky!” You feverishly called, completely expecting to see him before you. Rumlow’s head lifted instantly, his eyes scouring the area.

   “I’ve got this, Pretty Boy,” Tony hastily spoke, “How ya doin’, Hot Stuff?” He interrogated and you reeled at the tone.

   “Quite well, thank you,” you responded tenaciously and attempted to take a swig of the drink in your grasp.

   Tony’s hand shot out and covered the top, slamming the cup back down on the counter and effectively getting the drink all over your dress.

   “What the fuck?” You tried to shout but the words came out heavy and required too much energy to speak.

   “You’ve had enough for tonight,”

   “It’s just water,” Rumlow defended but Tony paid him no mind.

   Your jaw dropped open and you glared at the older man. Who the hell did he think he was? Tony’s stare burned through your skull and despite your irritation, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was so pissed.

   “Are you mad at me?” You drawled, lulling your head to the side.

   “No,” he responded curtly. 

   “Am I being too loud or something?” You pushed. You couldn’t imagine you were any louder than any other drunken bastard at this party.

   “No,”

   Get her out of there or I swear to God I will, his voice hissed into your ear.

   Your eyebrows rose slightly in excitement, “Mmm, Bucky,” you smiled and Tony nodded.

   “’Mmm, Bucky’ is right. Wanna go see him?” Tony offered, sticking out his hand for you to take.

   You fell forward into Rumlow’s chest but shook your head furiously none the less, “For what? So he can tell me I’m horrendous at my-”

   Oh shit. Your job. The job.

   If only your body didn’t feel so heavy and your mind so light.

   You pushed off Rumlow’s chest and glared at Tony, “I can handle myself,” you insisted, a new sort of sober tone making its way through that caused him to do a once-over. “I know what I’m doing,”

   “How many drinks have you had?” Tony challenged and you fell silent.

   Then you felt a tap, and another and a few more.

   “Six,” You said, hoping you’d counted right.

   Tony, don’t you even fucking consider it, Bucky threatened.

   “You could at least change, recuperate and then come back,” Tony offered and you sighed a breath of relief before nodding.

   “Deal,” you agreed, “I’m hot anyway,”

   Tony gave you one last glance before turning around and blending into the crowd on the other end of the room.

   You looked up to Rumlow who’s gaze was still locked on the sea of people, “Don’t you wish you’d taken that shot now?” you tried to jeer, every last word bringing you deeper and deeper.

   “Are they always that intense?” He questioned, not turning his attention to you.

   “They can be over-bearing,” you admitted, hand grabbing the water from earlier and pressing it up against your forehead, “They consider me the baby so they’re always criticizing and suffocating until I just wished they’d disappear.” You took a gulp, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the family and I like that I have a cause but . . . they don’t let me do anything. It’s exhausting,”

   You let out a long breath and smeared the condensation from the glass onto your chest. Rumlow studied you then, not just your body but your reaction. He was watching how you dropped your shoulders at the confession and how you faced your back to them to block them out. 

   You plastered your torso on the countertop and tried to slow your heartrate down. You couldn’t be the only one here unfathomably hot.

   “Why is it so fucking hot?” You questioned, fanning yourself weakly.

   “There are a lot of people around,” Rumlow offered, “how about we go somewhere else? Tony did say you had to change,”

   You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes and meekly groaned in compliance. “Fine,”

   You lifted yourself away from the counter and gently placed your feet on the floor. You’d touched the ground faster than anticipated. Had the ground always been so close?

   “Don’t worry, I gotcha.” Rumlow threw an arm around your waist and helped you trudge towards the elevator.

   Where the hell are you going? Bucky yelled and the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end.

   We can’t let you leave with Rumlow, Y/N. We’re not even sure you’re acting anymore, Sam stated.

   Rumlow pressed the button when you couldn’t muster the strength to do it yourself. The level that your room was on lit up and the doors began closing. You thought you saw Rumlow wave at someone but the mock smile on his face didn’t make it seem like a warm good-bye.

   Your legs had all but given out by the time the elevator reached your shared floor. 

   “Heavy,” you muttered, letting Rumlow carry your weight fully.

   “I know, Sugar. We’re almost there,” he soothed and you conceded to the fatigue wearing you down.

   Your head hung low and your arm dangled uselessly at your side. The familiar sound of your door sliding open caught your attention but you did nothing. You couldn’t. 

   “How . . . know . . . my room?” You questioned, each word causing you to pull from an empty well of energy.

   “I’ve been here before.” Rumlow tossed you onto the bed and sprawled you out.

   “Oh. Ok.” You tried to turn on to your side but strong hands gripped down onto your ankles.

   Rumlow sighed and slipped the heels off your feet, examining the pair like he wanted to wear them. You extended your feet until you felt every muscle in your leg stretch to its capacity and let out a groan of pleasure at the release. Those shoes hurt so bad.

   “You seem . . . intelligent, Y/N.” Rumlow dropped your shoes onto the floor and slithered to the side of your bed, standing beside it with his hands tucked into his pockets.

   A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead, “Hot . . .” you croaked and he nodded.

   “You’re right. It is getting kind of hot.” He brought a hand up to his neck and ripped off the tie hanging around it.

   Get the fuck out of my way, a growl erupted in your ear.

   We’re going with you, Buck, Steve responded before knocking something over.

   “So, what I have a hard time understanding is. . . why you’re here?” 

   You groaned a weak ‘huh’ but even that didn’t sound right.

   “You’re good at what you do, you finish every mission successfully and yet you’re underappreciated.” He took a seat at the foot of your bed and placed one of your legs into his lap, “Why do you allow them to treat you like that? We wouldn’t,”

   The shuffling in your earpiece halted.

   “We?” 

   He began to massage your calf and brought your knee up to his lips, peppering light kisses on it. “We could use someone with your skillset, babe. We’d take real good care of you,”

   The shuffling started again.

   Rumlow had made his way onto your thigh at this point and you let out an involuntary moan when he skimmed over a delicate part on your inner knee.

   “Ya like that?” he questioned but didn’t wait for a response. He brought a hand up to his temple and grabbed the earpiece. You figured he just hadn’t taken it out from his earlier shift but when he pulled it apart, you understood why he always kept it on him.

   “Flash . . . drive earpiece?” Your weak tone tilted a little. “W-why tell . . .”

   “I figured I’d give you the option to leave since you seem so . . . suffocated. If you said yes tonight then I would remind you tomorrow. If you didn’t,” he chuckled, “well, you wouldn’t remember anyway.” His hands trailed to your mid-thigh and you squeaked. “I’m impressed though, I’ve never given anyone else as much as I’ve given you tonight. The drug usually works so quickly on others, but not you. It’s kind of hot, actually,”

   Sick fuck, Natasha growled through a ragged breath.

   The world around you was slow or maybe it was you that was slow? You couldn’t tell, honestly. But when Rumlow moved as if he could predict your actions before you could make them, you wondered whether you were moving at all.

   “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon,” Rumlow sighed.

   You shook your head, or thought you did but despite the way your body was live-wired, it remained still against all desire. 

   Fight. Move. 

   You managed to push your legs shut but his hand slithered between and spread them open similar to opening a door, but this required much less force.

   “Kill,” You threatened and the sinister smile that crawled its way onto Rumlow’s face was vile enough to sink your heart into your stomach.

   “Kill is fucking right.” Someone snarled and your door was ripped from its hinges.

   Rumlow’s hand jerked away from your body and Bucky seized his open palm, intertwining their fingers and pushing Rumlow’s so far back that they touched the back of his own hand. The cracks were sickening onto themselves but had you not been so weak you would’ve turned from the sight altogether. You really couldn’t fathom how his fingers were still attached at all.

   “Lay another hand on her and you won’t be able to use it again.” Bucky spit.

   Despite Rumlow’s pain, the sinister smile remained sprawled on his face, “You should’ve heard the noises she made,”

   Bucky’s grip tightened and the bones in his palm broke next, “I did,”

   Natasha flew in right behind Barnes but completely dismissed the two and headed straight for you with a needle in hand. Your eyes shifted from the needle to Nat’s face and back again until she stabbed it into your upper arm. Ouch. 

   “Wha-”

   “Shh,” Natasha hastily hushed, “Keep your strength, you should be back to normal soon,”

   Steve came behind Nat and scooped you up to lead you out of the havoc going on in the room. Nat turned her focus to Bucky and reached over to grab the earpiece from Rumlow. Who knows if his nose will ever heal back normally. You held one finger in the air as Steve stepped over the splintered door.

   “Goddamit, Y/N,” Steve huffed, jogging towards the elevator and pressing the floor that led to the infirmary.

   “We won,” you croaked out, a small smile on your face and Steve shook his head.

   “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” 

   Steve looked you up and down for bruises but couldn’t find any and you promised you weren’t lying to him when you told him Rumlow did not get very far in his ‘advances’ at all. You had to swear the mid-thigh was the worst that it came to. 

   Bruce was the one that took a few blood samples and made sure everything was reversing back to normal. Apparently, as soon as Rumlow took you to the bar Tony handed Banner the shot glass that Rumlow gave you and Banner ran analysis on it. The cure was pretty easy to find.

   After being given strict orders to lie down for the next hour or so, it had been decided that Rumlow was to be turned in considering all the evidence required to make the arrest was in the flashdrive and everyone was to gather together for a ‘family night’. Whatever the hell that meant.

   You were in the middle of debating which movie to pick with Steve when the infirmary doors flew open.

   “Where is she?” Bucky nearly shouted upon seeing Bruce.

   “That’s my cue.” Steve stood up just as Bucky rounded the corner, “If you need anything me and Banner will be right over there,”

   You smiled and thanked him then turned your attention to the super-soldier who just arrived at the foot of your bed.

   He didn’t say anything for a while, just looked at you. No, not really. Not at you but through you. A few painstakingly slow seconds went by that way.

   “You owe me a new door,” you joked, a half-smile on your face.

   “Are you okay?” He asked, finally registering your presence.

   You nodded slowly, “I am,”

   Then a few more seconds.

   Bucky turned his gaze down to his hands, both of them barren and on display for the world to see, before shifting his weight between either foot, “Did he- did he touch you?”

   “Not really. Just really liked my legs for some reason,” your attempt at another quip didn’t reach Bucky. He stared back up at you waiting for an answer, an honest one. You sighed, “The damage is more mental,” you admitted, now you were the one not able to look up, “I didn’t like being in this altered state of mind. It’s invasive and . . . scary. He could’ve done things, much worse things but it never got that far or that bad. It was more realizing that I wasn’t completely conscious or present and having that state of mind be taken advantage of, that mostly frightened me. Ya know?”

   “More than anyone,” he answered immediately.

   You looked back up towards him, finally making eye contact, “But I’m fine now, really. Just a little spooked. Steve wants to do a movie night tonight and I would actually prefer that over being alone.” Your eyes fixated on the way his hands clenched and unclenched on the bar by your feet, “If I’m alone then I’ll get stuck in my head about it. Besides, I consider this a hard victory with a few bumps in the road,” 

   He chuckled, lulling his head a bit, “You’re too stubborn for your own good,”

   You shrugged, “Maybe. How’s Rumlow?”

   Bucky hissed and moved over to the side of the bed where he took a seat, “He’s unconscious. And has a hand that he’ll never be able to use again. But other than that, he’s fine,”

   You chuckled and Bucky watched how the laugh met your eyes. He liked that look on you. It was one of his favorites.

   “Why are you looking at me like that?” You questioned once it fell silent between you two again.

   “You called me Bucky earlier,” he remembered.

   You scoffed, “I call you Bucky all the time,”

   “Not to my face,”

   “Not to your face,” you agreed, a teasing smile dancing on your lips and Bucky had one that mirrored yours. 

   “It was nice. Hearing it, I mean,” he admitted and a wave of warmth made its way to your face.

   “I see your hands are exposed,”

   He looked down as though he weren’t aware that he’d taken off his own gloves, “These bad boys? A friend of mine reminded me that I’m not my past. I’m my present. Why hide my growth?”

   You twiddled your thumbs together, “She sounds smart,”

   Now he scoffed, “Oh, it wasn’t a girl, it was some old buddy of mine.” He quirked up a brow, “Unless the person being a girl would make you jealous because in that case it was most definitely a girl,”

   You fought against the natural tug at the corners of your mouth, “Is she at least pretty?”

   “Stunning,” 

   “Smart?”

   “Genius,”

   “Good at her job?”

   “Amongst the best,”

   “Then consider me jealous, Barnes,”

   Bucky chuckled and you watched how the laugh met his eyes. You liked that look on him. It was one of your favorites.

[emmyhem]

everything you’re missing (c.t.h)

a/n: hi everybody, i’m back with another post. this is my first calum piece and i’m so excited to finally get it up. this is once again unedited, i’m way too tired rn. it’s also the second smut i’ve posted so that’s pretty exciting as well. yeah i don’t really have much to say right now because i’m literally exhausted, my classes are really kicking my ass. anyway i hope you all enjoy this bff!calum piece. feedback and comments are always appreciated. hope you all are doing well and are being safe. thank you - emmy <33

pairing: bff!calum hood x fem!reader

summary: a drunken text meant for your ex shows up on calum’s phone and leaves him questioning everything he’s missing out on with his best friend.

warning(s): talk of a previous bad relationship, y/n’s ex body shamed her, mentions of alcohol, insecurity, smut, cursing

word count: 4.7k

You’ve decided that 3 glasses of wine is your happy medium, but even a sip into the 4th and there’s no telling what you’ll do. 

So, naturally you were finishing up your 5th glass on Friday night while angrily scrolling through your exes instagram when you got what seemed to be an incredible idea. It was simply too tempting not to, your mind was feeling hazy which made your confidence skyrocket, and you truly did just look good. 

A day of pampering had left you in a black floor length silk robe with nothing but your favorite deep cherry red lingerie set underneath. Your face was bare and glowing after a refreshing and illuminating face mask, and your lips were left glossy and plump from a new scrub. 

You had posed in front of the floor length mirror in your living room, giggling between snaps until you had taken the perfect shot. It was classy but provocative, the dressing gown slipping from your shoulders exposing the lace of your bra and a tasteful amount of cleavage. You had also left the bottom open, allowing a clear shot of your thighs and the curve of your ass from where you sat on your knees. 

With a mischievous glint in your eyes you selected the picture into a message, typing a cheeky, “take a good look at everything you’re missing”  and sending it off to your ex (or so you thought). 

But you really couldn’t be blamed for your mistake, Cam and Cal were far too similar for your drunk brain to decipher the difference. You also couldn’t be blamed for the fact that you dozed off on the couch immediately after sending it, before you even had a chance to recognize your humiliating mistake. 

You were awoken by the ringing of your phone at around 9:00 am, way too early for your liking. Before even registering who it was, you brought the phone to your ear and groaned a sleepy, “hello,” 

“At your door.” a voice you recognized as your best friend responded. 

“M’coming” you said, scooting off the couch. On your way to the door you registered that you were still scantily covered, the robe falling off of you as you walked. You clutched it around you as you swung the door open to a wide eyed, Calum Hood. 

“G’morning.” he smirked, looking you up and down. 

“Shh” you hushed, pulling him in by the arm. “Why in the world are you here so early?”

He lightly laughed while taking a seat at the kitchen table, eyes following you while you moped over to the fridge and pulled out two water bottles. 

“Well,” he sighed as you handed him one. “I got a very interesting text last night and I figured I just had to come over and see, y’know everything I was missing.” he spoke in a teasing tone as he gestured a hand down your body.

You tugged your eyebrows together in confusion. There was something familiar about what he was saying, but not familiar enough for you to put the pieces together. 

“What are you talking about?” you questioned bringing the water bottle to your lips. 

Calum shrugged his shoulders, a smirk still glued to his face as he took out his phone and began looking for something. After a few seconds he extended his arm to hand you his phone. You accepted it and glanced down absentmindedly as your body slumped against the counter.  

The second your eyes hit the screen it all came back to you, your mouth fell open and you straightened out, suddenly very awake, not to mention very mortified. 

Calum on the other hand was buzzing. Actually, he had been ever since his phone dinged last night awakening him from his sleep. Well, buzzing and extremely, extremely sexually frustrated. 

When he first opened your message and saw the picture that would now be making a regular appearance in his wet dreams, he had nearly choked on his own breath. He knew that it was most likely a drunken mistake, and while that slightly saddened him it didn’t stop his dick from plumping up at the sight, straining uncomfortably against his boxers. He seriously debated wanking to the tempting image but decided against it, thinking it would be a gross violation of your privacy since it wasn’t even meant for him. Oh how he wished it was. Unfortunately that meant he had been sporting an exceptionally sensitive halfie since then. 

“Oh my god.” you groaned, sitting the phone down on the counter and covering your eyes in humiliation. “Cal I’m soooo sorry, I was drunk, and overly confident, and I meant to send this to Cam and now I’m just, I’m sorry.” you reiterated. 

‘Hey, don’t apologize on my account.” he countered. “Plus, you should be thrilled you sent it to me and not that asshole, doesn’t deserve ya.” 

“I know, you’re right. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m mortified though. S’bit ridiculous, get a little alcohol in my system and I have a god complex all of a sudden” you rambled, running your hands through your hair nervously. 

Calum stood and pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head. 

“You think too much, y’know that?” he quipped. 

You turned your head, pressing a cheek against his sweater clad chest and mumbled, “Yea I’ve been known for that.” 

Calum softly chuckled at your words before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head and pulling apart. 

“S’really no big deal, y/n.” a teasing grin plastered on his face. “Besides I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”

“Calum!” you scolded, swatting a hand at his arm. 

He dodged your hit just in time and held his hands up in surrender before taking his seat again. 

“Why'd you let that dick bother you anyway? Y’know you’re way out of his league.” 

Your jaw clenched at the question, your mind wandering to every time you had come to Calum crying after your ex had done something to hurt you. Everytime he commented on your “stomach pudge” as he liked to call it, when you wore a tight dress to go out. Or when he would ask if you were really “that” hungry, even if you hadn’t eaten much at all. And each time you would feel absolutely wretched and end up sobbing in Calum’s arms, but refusing to tell him why you were so, so sad. 

“He texted me the other day y’know?” you muttered under your breath, while fiddling with the coffee machine. 

“Really? What’d he say?” Calum responded, watching your back with narrowed eyes. 

“Uh, he saw me the other night, when we were at that bar with the guys.” you said, shaky fingers pulling out a mug. 

“And?” he spoke flatly. 

“It’s stupid really,” you sniffled, willing your voice not to break. “He said I put on a few pounds, that he was glad he got out when he did.” your bottom lip traitorously jutted out as you turned to face him. 

“Fucking dick.” he hissed. 

Calum wasn’t necessarily proud of the violent images that flashed through his mind at the thought of that asshole finding yet another way to hurt you but, the sad little quiver of your lip allowed him to reason without a doubt that they were fair. 

Before you could even blink he was holding you again, arms impossibly tight around you. . 

“He’s wrong, y/n. Fuck, I don’t know how to even...he’s just so wrong.” he said softly, his hand rubbing your back reassuringly. 

“I know.” you whimpered, holding tears back. 

He pulled back enough to look you in the eyes, arms still firm around your waist. 

“No you don’t. It’s...It really fucking pisses me off that he makes you feel like this. It’s like-fuck you’re just like-” he moved his hands to cup your cheeks. “You really are gorgeous.” 

Your heart fluttered at his words, and your whole body felt warm as you stared at his big brown eyes. His words felt sincere, everything about him felt so sincere. 

“Thank you, Cal.” 

He pulled you back into his chest, “Really wish I could just, like hug away all his bullshit.” 

“M’used to it.” you mumbled. 

“You don’t deserve any of it.” 

“Yea, well what can you do.” you sighed, moving out of his embrace. 

Calum’s eyes were still glued to you as you stirred a spoonful of sugar in your coffee. 

“I hope you don’t let anything he says get to you.” 

You let out a breath of exhaustion. 

Confidence wasn’t something that you used to struggle with. I mean sure, there were spouts of insecurity here and there but you knew your worth, and you considered yourself pretty, hot even. That had all changed a few months into your latest relationship. First it was the backhanded compliments which quickly turned into passive comments, and then outright cruel insults. People really underestimate the toll their words take on others, especially when the person that’s making you feel so ugly and worthless, is one that you adore and who’s supposed to adore you right back, no matter what. 

“I try but, he can’t just be making it all up.” you were ashamed. When did you become the girl that lets a guy affect how she sees herself? That just wasn’t you. 

“He is. He’s insecure and a douche. He was probably trying to destroy your confidence to the point that you felt like you couldn’t leave him.” Calum assured. “But you’re way too strong for him, dumped his sorry ass anyway.” 

You smiled gratefully at his words, taking a seat next to him. 

“Yea, so strong I tried to send him half naked pictures for reassurance.” 

Calum shook his head, “I wish you could see how hot you are.” 

Your eyes widened at the compliment, your head dropping to avoid his stare as blood rushed to your cheeks. 

“I’d be happy to reassure you whenever you want.” he continued, bumping his knee against yours under the table. 

“Doesn’t count.” you dismissed, before sipping your coffee. “You're my best friend, you’re obligated to tell me I’m pretty.” 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” he muttered back quietly, his expression dropping slightly. He hated when you deflected his compliments. All he ever wanted to do was make you feel good, and you made it very difficult for him when you blocked every swing he took at the wall of insecurity that Cam had built around you. He would kill Cam if he could. 

You let out an apologetic sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. 

“M’sorry, you’re right. I love you for that, the only thing keeping me sane.” 

Your heart squeezed as he hugged you back. 

Calum was perfect, he was sweet, and funny, and quite literally your favorite person on earth. Not to mention you had been hopelessly in love with him since practically the beginning of your friendship. But as his best friend you had heard over and over just how uninterested he was in a relationship. Everytime you would ask about his love life he would just respond, 

“I’m just not the boyfriend type, m’not cut out for it.” shrugging nonchalantly. 

Which you thought was laughable because anyone would be lucky to have him as a boyfriend, in fact sometimes you would let yourself pretend he was yours. 

Like,in a busy club with his hands on your hips, guiding you through the crowds. So close behind, you could feel each exhale on the back of your neck, as his eyes darted around the room to ensure there weren’t any potential threats to your safety, in the form of drunk overzealous flirts. Or after a night out when he got cuddly and clingy, and would find his way from the couch into your bed. You’d wake up with his cheek pressed against your chest and his arms snaked around your torso as he released soft breaths that caused goosebumps to rise on your exposed skin. You’d let yourself imagine that you had this every morning and that he would wake up any minute to smother your face in kisses and tell you he loved you. And of course, here he was again this morning being so thoughtful and kind and everything you wanted in a boyfriend. And here you were again swimming in his praises and physically having to restrain yourself from kissing him. 

Begrudgingly, you pulled away and stood up. 

“Gonna get changed.” you spoke. 

“I’m making us breakfast.” Calum called as you walked away. You hummed in response and slipped into your room. 

Once in the privacy of your own room you quickly pulled on a pair of leggings and a hoodie before scurrying to the bathroom sink and splashing cold water on your face in hopes of ridding yourself of any romantic thoughts towards your best friend.

Although you weren’t aware, Calum was doing the very same thing just a few feet away. Internally reminding himself repeatedly that it was never gonna happen with you. He wasn’t good enough to be anyone’s boyfriend, let alone yours. You didn’t want him that way and he could almost trick himself into believing that he was okay with that.

You hastily finished brushing your teeth before returning to the kitchen. You were greeted with the sight of Calum’s back, he stood over the toaster cutting an avocado and humming a song you didn’t recognize quietly to himself.  He looked over his shoulder as your footsteps approached. 

“Hungry?” he questioned. 

“You have no idea.” you affirmed, as he fixed a plate for you both. 

“Good. I was thinking we could watch something while we eat,” 

“Fine with me.” you responded, hoping he wouldn’t notice the distraction laced in your voice. Your focus had easily been stolen from the conversation to how easy it was to see his back muscles flex through the thin material of his jumper. 

But of course he did, it was Calum after all. 

“Y’alright?” he said, handing you a plate. 

“Uh, yep.” you rushed out. 

“Not still thinking about Cam, are you?” 

“No, not at all.” you answered honestly, walking to the couch, Calum trailing closely behind you. 

“Then what’s got you all flustered?” 

“You” you thought, taking a seat in the furthest corner. 

“I’m not flustered.” 

“Bullshit” he countered, sitting practically on top of you. 

You let out a huff, and motioned to the other  completely empty side of the couch. 

“Is there a reason we aren’t practicing personal space right now?” 

He laughed softly at your question and nuzzled closer into your side. 

“Yea, you’re all pouty, looks like you need a cuddle.” 

 “I’m really fine Cal.” you shoved him lightly but saw no results, he just scooched in even closer and bit into his toast. 

The two of you sat in silence while some newly released action movie played on your TV. Calum’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders keeping you tight to his side, and although you could’ve sworn that you had been in this exact same position hundreds of times, you felt as if this were the very first time. Every single one of your nerves were on fire and the warmth that had flooded your body was making you antsy. 

Feeling overwhelmed by your senses, you allowed your eyes to flutter close with a deep inhale. 

“You okay?” Calum whispered, dipping his head down slightly to reach your ear.

You opened your mouth to respond but didn’t trust your voice to protrude through your shaky exhales, settling for a subdued nod instead. 

“You sure?” his words were long and drawled out, despite your eyes being closed you knew his proximity from the feeling of his breath just behind your ear. 

Before you could speak up his hand secured itself just above your knee, and your muscles flexed involuntarily at the contact. 

“Relax, y/n” he continued, his thumb beginning to run repeatedly over a spot on your inner knee. 

Everything in your brain was screaming at you to excuse yourself, maybe even kick him out, anything to gain some space and hopefully some clarity from the cloud of sexual tension that was looming over the two of you and blurring boundaries at lightning speed. But you were essentially frozen in place, petrified that any movement would alert Calum to the way he was affecting you. 

Your head lolled back to rest on his forearm which was lying behind you on the couch and finally peeled your eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. 

He watched you from the corner of his eye, taking note of every rise and fall of your chest, every thick swallow of your throat. 

If there was one thing Calum was well versed in, it was his ability to read you, he liked to think he knew you better than anyone else in the world. He could tell exactly how you were feeling just by watching you, your face, your breathing and he was more than shocked when he started getting the feeling you were no longer upset but something far more appealing. 

Were you turned on? Right here in his presence? The thought made blood rush to his dick, which twitched in his pants when another breathy sigh passed your lips. 

“What’re you thinking about, love?” 

Everything in you urged you to answer honestly, just tell him the truth. “You, I’m thinking about you. I’m always thinking about you.” But you couldn’t do that, so instead you deflected. 

“What’re you thinking about?” you countered, meeting his eyes. 

Calum questioned his next words very carefully, debating whether or not he could recover if he was wrong about what you were feeling and you shut him down. It was pointless though, he knew he would never recover from your rejection. He also knew that spontaneous combustion wouldn’t look very good on his tombstone and that’s exactly what would happen if he spent one more minute not kissing you. 

Fuck it. 

“That pretty little set you had on last night.” he confessed. 

That you weren’t expecting. 

A quiet whine rang from your throat and you were far too affected to feel embarrassed. 

And that did it, Calum was now impossibly hard in his pants, no doubt leaking precum onto his boxer briefs. He needed to get his hands on you, now. 

His hand started to slowly travel up your thigh, goosebumps rising on every centimeter they passed. 

“So gorgeous in red, aren’t ya y/n?”

“Cal,” you hissed when his thumb brushed the sensitivity of your inner thigh. 

“Mm.” he hummed. “It’d be pretty hard fo’me to stop right now, but I will if that’s what you want. Is that what you want, love?” 

He was sure he’d cry if he had to let go of you now, but he needed to hear you say it. 

“No, don’t wanna stop.” you whined, turning your body flush to his.

“Whaddya want then, baby? Hm?” You could feel his every word on the flushed skin of your neck as he leaned into the crook.

“Want you.” 

He could’ve came then and there. 

“Then I’m all yours.” he admitted before crashing his lips on yours. 

Your heart was in your stomach as his tongue entered your mouth, explorative and eager. He was too busy memorizing your taste to notice your fingers tugging at his sweater. You attempted to push it up desperate to feel his skin under your hands. You were able to pull the fabric up about halfway before they were blocked by his arms that were holding you close against him.

Calum laughed when you pulled apart from the kiss, giving him a disappointed look. 

“Want it off?” he teased. 

You couldn’t bother to be embarrassed when you nodded eagerly in response. He didn’t waste any time peeling the fabric off of his skin, and you were quick to lightly run a finger across the ink feather just below his collarbone. 

Now it was his turn to tug on your clothes, “Level the playing field?” 

You nodded, lifting your arms and allowing him to lift the sweatshirt over your head leaving your chest completely bare. Calum groaned at the sight of your tits, his hands quickly finding your waist and tugging you down to lay on your back in one swift motion. 

Once you were laid out in front of him he took the opportunity to explore the new skin. His hands left a lingering warmth as they dragged across your stomach and despite the kind words and endearing demeanor that he always upheld with you, you found yourself shying under his gaze, wanting to curl away from him. As your hands began to wrap around your stomach in an attempt to cover yourself up he quickly pushed them away, locking them in place on either side of you. 

“Wanna see everything baby, all of you.” he cooed in your ear before nipping at the lobe. 

His kisses began to travel down your neck, sucking a few marks to your collar bones and the surrounding areas. When his fingers grazed over a fresh bruise in the dip just between your neck and shoulders you hissed lightly. 

“You look so pretty marked up for me. All mine, aren’t you baby? Not Cam’s, mine. Say it.” 

“Yours, Cal.” you admitted, feeling your body sink further into the couch. You had never felt drunk off of someone’s words before and the experience was leaving you sputtering, completely compliant to your best friend. 

He hummed contently at your confession, his large hands gripping at your hips, before slowly peeling your leggings off.

“Y’feel so good in my hands, like you were made for me.” his thumbs poking at the soft skin, just beneath your panties. 

The feeling of his hands so close to where you needed them, but not quite there was driving you crazy. 

“Cal, please.” you begged. 

He groaned before tugging at the cotton covering you. “Cam’s a fucking idiot, y’know that? He had the prettiest girl in the world and treated her like shit. I’d never do that, wanna worship you baby.” 

It was ridiculous how overwhelmed his words were leaving you, all desperate and squirming. As his fingers met the soaked expanse of your cunt you couldn’t hold back the throaty moan it elicited. 

A pornographic sigh followed close behind, one that made Calum want to pinch himself to ensure he wasn’t in the midst of a haunting dream. 

“Soaked f’me darling.” he mused, running his fingers up and down your folds to completely coat you in your arousal. You whimpered at the feeling, bucking your hips up desperate for friction. 

Tutting while shaking his head, he used one hand on your lower stomach to press you back down to the couch. 

“Stay still for me won’t you, love?” he cooed, continuing to run his fingers over your core lightly. 

When you bobbed your head up and down in agreement he lifted your leg to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your calf. 

“Hm, good girl.” he praised, softly laying your leg back down. 

Calum hovered above you, dipping his head down every so often to peck at your chest, his fingers still unrelenting. The knot in your lower stomach tightened every second that passed and you felt like you could scream at any second, yearning to be full. 

Calum felt like he could burst any minute himself but was determined to make this experience the best of your life. He wanted to give you something to remember, a reason to want more. 

Your soft moans and frustrated grunts alerted him to your neediness and he was just about ready to give in for the both of you. 

“What do you need from me, baby?” he said against your shoulder before peppering kisses across your collar bones. 

You could only respond with an airy moan when his fingers found your clit. 

“Hm? My fingers?” You shook your head aggressively. He knew exactly what you wanted, the tease. 

“No? Want my mouth?” he teased further, leaving an opened mouth kiss in between your tits. 

“Cal,” you sighed. “Fuck me, please.”

He groaned at your words, nipping lightly at the skin before ridding himself of his pants. 

“You’re a fucking dream, y’know that?” he praised, desperately searching for a condom in his pants. When he finally located one he held it up to you as if it were a prized possession, smiling proudly at his own preparedness. 

He hastily freed himself from the constraints of his boxers and rolled the condom on, never once taking his eyes off of the blissful expression on your face. 

“Ready?” he questioned, his tip lightly pressing at your entrance. You nodded and sucked in a breath, bracing yourself for the stretch, your eyes falling closed in the process. 

When a few seconds went by and nothing happened you opened your eyes to find Calum staring down at you in awe. 

“Cal,” you whined. “what’re you doing?” 

Your words seemed to break him from his trance, he shook his head and muttered an apology to you. 

“Sorry, fuck you’re pretty. You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” 

“Then stop waiti-” your words were cut off by a sharp hiss that couldn’t have been prevented as his length finally pressed into you. 

“Fuck.” Calum groaned his head falling back. You felt too good around him, seriously he was fucked, completely ruined for you. 

You felt the exact same as your silky moans filled the room. You had never been filled this good and you questioned how you had gone so long without this. 

“M-move” you sighed, clenching around him. 

You could hear his breath catch at the feeling and he grunted out a strained, “Need a minute.” 

He held himself in place for a few more seconds until his breaths began to even out once again before pulling nearly all the way out and slamming back in. 

You yelped, pulling your lip between your teeth in hopes to drown the sound. 

He continued slamming into you at an unrelenting pace, taking notice of each time your eyes would roll back when he brushed against your g-spot. He could write a book about how good you looked all fucked for him. 

As his thrusts grew closer together you could feel your release creeping up on you.  

“Cal, need’ta cum.” you stuttered out. 

His hands tightened around your hips, pulling you even closer to him as his head poked at that spot again. 

“Go on baby, let go.” he encouraged, willing himself to hold out a little longer as your walls fluttered around him. 

Once you had came it only took him about three more thrusts before he was painting the condom with his release, groaning your name as his hand searched for yours to intertwine them as he came down from his own high. 

  His body flopped next to yours on the couch, both of you struggling to fit next to each other in such a small space, not that either of you minded the close quarters. 

Your fingers remained laced together as you caught your breath, Calum peppering kisses to your shoulder and mumbling praises into your skin. 

“You’re an angel. God, I just- I love you.” he said, causing your head to snap in his direction. 

He looked like a deer in headlights when you asked for him to repeat himself. 

“I love you?” he obliged.

“Is it a question?” 

“No, I’m just not used to saying it.” he admitted, vulnerability clear in his eyes. 

You wanted to kiss away the worried crease in his forehead but instead pressed your lips to his, pulling apart a fraction of an inch to speak after a few seconds.

“I love you too.” you ensured. 

Calum eyes widened, not expecting you to say it back, at least not so soon. He had so much he wanted to say to you but figured all of it could be summed up by another kiss to your soft lips. So he closed the distance once again, using a bit more force this time in hopes it would convey the strength of his feelings for you.

[call-sign-shark]

What a fascinating dynamic you've created between Luca and your wonderful OC Aurora. Admittedly, I've grown quite obsessed with her and I'm pretty sure at this point she'll be the one who will appear in Heaven in Your Eyes if you allow me to do so. I am also far more than moved by your dedication to your new OC. It's so wonderful -- moreover, you can really be proud of her 'cause she's freakin' original.

First of all, the moodboard is a true masterpiece. I am blown away by your perfect use of color and how the repetition of the green color doesn't feel annoying due to your perfect use of shades and your great pics selection. It's a very great and well-fitting illustration for this tragic duo, and one can definitely feels the "power couple" vibes on this. Somehow they would have been such a perfect and royal couple if Luca wasn't such a dick.

His education on the streets makes him far more likely to employ brute force than carefully engineered strategy as Aurora has been taught to do. => This. My personal weakness when it comes to OC or fanfic is how the author is able to sip through the cracks of the original script and offers a logical/exceptionally good explanation behind some decisions, facts or quotes. And this, darling, this is brilliant.

Apart from the biographical element, I am just fond of the work you've poured into Luca and Aurora's relationship. It feels realistic, almost palpable. Reading about the awful evolution of their love is interesting as fuck. Anyway I think my post is already too long but expect me in your ask box. I've got lots of questions but I'm kinda afraid of spamming you teehee.😅

Luca x Aurora

Mr. and Mrs. Changretta from my fic My Sun My Moon and All My Stars. I've answered questions about their backstory in comments which I've included below the cut for anyone curious about their early days.

As in canon, Luca worked for the Spinietta family as a low level soldier when he first came to America to avoid prosecution for his crimes in England. When the Sabinis took over, Luca was promoted through the ranks and took over protection. His temperament and general inclination toward rage and violence worked to his advantage in this arena bc people were afraid of him. As we see in my fic tho, this approach is incompatible with business. His education on the streets makes him far more likely to employ brute force than carefully engineered strategy as Aurora has been taught to do. Mr. Sabini-- and by extension Aurora--appreciate more cloak and dagger tactics to overpower their enemies. Luca just isn't capable of this sort of nuance.

Aurora would have met him eventually and begun dating him due to his "bad boy" reputation bc she's lived a sheltered life of privilege. Her family is wealthy and she's had every opportunity in life, except the chance to experience a few thrills. Luca is the first man who is willing to stand up to her so Aurora believes him to be her equal and Mr. Sabini likes him bc he appears to be so fiercely loyal to the family and his daughter. I imagine their courtship moved quickly bc Luca was quite charming. After the marriage, Mr. Sabini gave him more authority and their reputation as a power couple grew. The abuse didn't begin right away. In fact, it's probably only been happening for a period of two years or less and Aurora naively believes it's something she can change/reverse bc she loves him. Everyone has a weak spot and Luca is hers. 

She def makes a conscious effort to protect him from her father's wrath, partly bc she doesn't want to disappoint the family, but also bc she is beginning to believe Luca's hateful words about running to daddy for everything. She wants to prove she can make her marriage work under her own power. It's just another way to let him isolate and abuse her further tho.

Have more questions about this couple? Send an ask! I love talking about my new OC!

[chitsangenthusiast]

insomnia + t.... tony.., tony the tigermm..

hey remember when tumblr banned 'tony the tiger' lmfao anyway

"What's your star sign?" Sokka asks him, and Zuko's face twists up even as his fingers continue to fly over the keyboard. The question is muffled from where Sokka has embedded his face into his sweater, but even the few dropped syllables aren't enough to stop him from understanding the question.

(Though clarity and coherency are two distinctly separate things in this case.)

"Uh, what?"

"Your star sign," Sokka says again, not bothering to cover his yawn with his face so covered, and Zuko just barely stops himself from shivering against the weird press of moving lips over fabric. "Like, the personality thing. Where the sun was when you were born, determining the entire make up of who you are as a person before you can open your eyes, yadda yadda."

"I know what zodiac signs are," he shoots back with a huff, "just like I know how much you don't believe in them, which is why I'm confused."

There's a small laugh into his upper back, and Zuko actually does squirm at the feeling—then immediately regrets it when Sokka finally lifts himself off and away.

"Oh, no, yeah, it's total bullshit. which is why I think I've figured out something way better for people to imprint themselves on." With a long groan, he slumps his way around Zuko's leg to fall in and rest his head on his knee. "Hear me out: cereal mascots."

Zuko just stares down at him. "Sokka—why?"

"Think about it!" and Zuko is not. He's been working on this manuscript for the past too many hours, far too tired and not even close to being finished, but Sokka's excitement is distracting enough that he's willing to at least sit there and admire his boyfriend's pretty mouth as he talks. "Line up all the mascots, and you've basically got a full range of actually fleshed out personalities that aren't just just vague, arbitrarily-chosen concepts. Those are things you can resonate with. Also, there's definitely a link between the level of sugar you're willing to consume in the morning and who you are as a person."

Sokka then gestures down at himself, and Zuko accepts the invitation to look. Probably not for the reason he actually wants, but whatever. Computer screens are bad for Zuko's eyes, but Sokka certainly isn't. "For example, who would you associate me with?"

Zuko doesn't miss a beat. "Gritty."

"Tony the Tiger," Sokka hums in happy confirmation, long an expert in selective hearing when it comes to him, "exactly. And you, my handsome little jerk, are the Trix Rabbit."

The very idea earns him a sharp flick to the side of his neck—which ultimately results in Zuko's laptop getting tossed to the other side of the bed as a determined poking war breaks out, and ends with Sokka joyfully dropping his entire weight onto his stomach.

(Not ends—there's a quick chomp to his right cheek before Zuko is held victim to a flurry of small kisses all over his face as he tries to suck the air back into his lungs.)

"Ass," he groans, only slightly putting effort into struggling against the onslaught. "You really—explain your dumb logic."

"Because you've stolen my heart," Sokka simpers into the corner of his mouth, openly delighting in the way Zuko freezes, then drops a few more smacking pecks along the edge of his scar. "Duh."

It takes a few minutes for Zuko to respond, too caught up in the insistent press of that smiling mouth against his, but then Sokka is pulling back to gaze down at him, likely gearing up to further explain his reasoning, and Zuko seizes the moment.

"I was born in the year of the rabbit, you know," he says, then cackles in the face of Sokka's sputtering indignation as he yanks him back down.