#but now i have sense trust issues

[fuckingarataswespeak]

I keep getting these waves of dizzy nausea ND everything smells like this weird rotting smell that's almost sweet but just makes me more nauseous, and anything with meat or dairy tastes spoiled as well as potato and maybe just all starchy foods

[lovelyisadora]

Also when sep restarts his apprenticeship is he like. Okay so you rlly did cut out a lot of stuff huh. Wtf were u going to if I finished the apprenticeship. And marcia's like idk I didn't think that far ahead. Or like. What happens andjdndjfn I need More

quick context because this has been in my inbox for at least two years but this is about the apprenticeship arrangement in rewrite au (at least I am like 95 percent sure it is).

if Septimus had actually finished the apprenticeship, he wouldn’t have been able to take over as extraordinary wizard because of how she modified it to be age appropriate and because he went into it with little to no experience with or knowledge of magyk (in rewrite au, the extraordinary apprenticeship is more of an elite position; if the purpose is to train potential extraordinary wizards, then only apprentices who are top of their magyk classes or programs are considered). Marcia was never going to have him take over so young, but without the proper training, he couldn’t have taken over ever. so since she didn’t have a plan and never thought that far ahead anyway, and because the arrangement was always about his day to day functioning, she really was just figuring it out as she went (with no help from Silas or Sarah, but only because Marcia is the extraordinary wizard; the apprenticeship hiding the fact that she is his legal guardian is hers to figure out as far as they are concerned).

the hardest part, since she did want him to take over eventually, would have been keeping the arrangement a secret and finding how to prepare him in a way that qualified him without him realizing what was really going on. she would have pushed him to higher education, would have found ways to introduce new books and extra lessons and spells in a way that didn’t clue him in that she was teaching him the way he should have always been taught. anything, so that when she was ready and he expressed interest in replacing her, it could happen. but because he doesn’t have the easiest apprenticeship even modified as it is, none of this happens. it all falls apart because it wasn’t sustainable, but also because he wasn’t ready and neither was she (which she did warn Silas and Sarah about).

she tells him this, after the first three months of his restarted apprenticeship, but only when he asks. because he knew, after they finally talked about it when it all fell apart that the actual apprenticeship was different, but he hadn’t realized just how much. he’s taking magyk classes because Marcia warned him she wasn’t going to bridge his gap in knowledge. he would be more than prepared for some of it, but nowhere near ready for a lot of it. if he was serious about recommitting to the extraordinary apprenticeship then the extraordinary apprenticeship was what he was getting, nothing less, and he needs do the work he missed on his own. Marcia is also Marcia, so she pushes him harder and expects more of him than other extraordinary wizards might have expected of their apprentices if they were in this situation. his first three months are very difficult as a result and he starts realizing that being the extraordinary wizard is a lot harder than it looks, that the work required to get to that position is harder than he thought, and he’s like, oh my god, Marcia, were you going to throw me into that without any of this?

telling him the second part of it, that she still wouldn’t have told him about the arrangement had he finished his original apprenticeship, is almost as hard as it would have been to cover it up. he really does not like hearing that Marcia still would have lied by omission and kept it from him. he thinks that he would have deserved to know, had he not found out by accident when it fell apart.

Marcia ends the conversation there though, to his frustration, because there’s no point in talking about what would have been. he knows now. he’s doing the apprenticeship now, the right way. they’ve already discussed the arrangement, at length. they don’t need to discuss it any further.

except they do, because they resolved it without resolving it. if Marcia kept this from him, if she would have continued to keep this from him, what else must she be keeping from him? he never fully trusts her again.

[birthclod]

thinking about ch0mpkin's evil evbo post (evilbo, if you will) and going "How can I align this with My Interests (the axes)" and the answer is Very easily actually

[muckablucka]

how it feels to find song lyrics that fit your OC perfectly:

[xxplastic-cubexx]

just read the new mutants issue where Charles chose to stay behind in space and my god the juxtaposition between Charles trusting Erik and Erik joining the hellfire club and wondering at his own trust worthiness. I wonder how much of Charles decision was him ultimately trying to avoid the fact that his first class had seemingly betrayed mutant kind and not be willing to face them and how much of it was Dani and Illyana's reaction to him having Karma mind control Illyana. the fact that Illyana was depending on him to ease her mind through limbo and in choosing to stay he forced karma to do it instead, probably fucking up their relationship in the process.

I love him, this is crazy, how much of this is him trying to runaway and how much is this him not trusting himself to fix things and how much is it just him trusting Erik?

i keep trying to put into words my exact thoughts about the sitch but there really is a lot for one issue aintit... oh charles you and your brain...

[pathological-runaway]

Alef can still recall the quiet evenings in Isle, the sun going down over the endless ocean and the streets below emptying slowly, colourful tents filling with laughter and lively chatting as the residents joined their friends and families for dinner. They remember melancholy in the air and fragments of ancient songs wafted by the gentle wind all the way to the Temple, replaced with bittersweet silence once they came to an end.

you can read the fic here or below the cut

Alef can still recall the quiet evenings in Isle, the sun going down over the endless ocean and the streets below emptying slowly, colourful tents filling with laughter and lively chatting as the residents joined their friends and families for dinner. A few birds chirped in the distance, getting ready to go to sleep, too. Alef remembers the small flowers that used to grow near the Temple closing up for the night and the ground getting cooler as the rays of the tired sun grew weaker and weaker, stepping aside for the darkness of the night to take its turn reigning over the grassy slopes.

Alef can recall looking down from the top of the hill at the village, their hair and cape dancing shyly in the summer breeze. They remember melancholy in the air and fragments of ancient songs wafted by the gentle wind all the way to the Temple, replaced with bittersweet silence once they came to an end. They recollect the way their chest would tighten sometimes when, standing or sitting there on the grass, they asked themself why, or how, or what.

Alef remembers a voice or a hand on their shoulder that would always make them jump in surprise, a kind smile or a worried frown. The very same “How are you doing?” day after day after day that somehow never failed to catch them off guard, followed by an answer from their part that was a lot too short to be truth yet too simple to really count as a lie. Alef recalls standing by the Elder’s side as they contemplated their realm or watching from afar as they fed the birds and hoping that maybe, just maybe, it will all work out in the end.

They cannot, try as they might, remember the Elder’s eyes — the only thing about those quiet evenings that their mind has blotted out over time. But little does it matter now that there are no more sunsets in Isle, no more colourful tents. Now that the voice or the hand on their shoulder is but part of a memory as distant as a dream that perhaps never happened at all, Alef’s vivid imagination inventing a story too good to have ever been true.

They still have a vague recollection of turning around or walking up to Daleth and asking them to tell them something — anything — and listening to them until the last sunbeams faded, gasping at unexpected turns in the stories and laughing at the Elder’s jokes, picturing in their mind the younger versions of people they could barely believe had once been young. And it was easier, in a way, to go to bed thinking about what used to be instead of what was yet to come — instead of what they were supposed to bring about.

Alef remembers thinking everything was difficult back then, remembers hoping that it would get easier. Alef knows now that they were a foolish child, believing such rubbish, and, when the castle is empty and the sun has set below the horizon, wishes in secret to get to see a quiet evening in Isle once again.

[gabbingwaves]

GRANDMA HUA???

You're out picking flowers and Grandma casually drops that she used to be part of that incredibly cursed cult village your most incessant stalker drew a whole entire picture book about and uses as a light moral bedtime story.

THIS LADY RIGHT HERE. Conversation under the cut.

Grandma Hua: Better than the past when you had to trade something just to get a bite to eat...

Rover: Exchange?

Grandma Hua: Hmm...When I was younger, in another village, they had the habit of exchange.

Grandma Hua: Exchange...What exactly are we exchanging...?

Grandma Hua: I can't remember...Every time I think of the word "exchange", I get the heebie-jeebies...

[marsbotz]

i ship inhun in a way that differwnt and more swagful than anyone else btw.

[loumauve]

I snapped today at work, and by snapped I mean I politely commented on a help desk ticket by summing up an mess of an (type of) issue that's come up for at least the fourth time in the 2+ months I've been managing user accounts, and asked the person responsible to fix it (himself for once) because last time I fixed his mess-up it took me two whole days to work out the details with at least four other colleagues from different departments and I really don't want to do it again. there's other shit that needs doing, I've been working 10+ hour days for most of this week already, so I need to cut down not add on more.

(good thing tho - at least we managed to fix the issue where the dataset of a newer employee got mixed up with another one of the same name and therefore wasn't able to apply for any of the access/accounts she needed. technically not entirely my area but it does impact us not being allowed to create an account for her so I figured I might as well track that issue down. took three days and at least three other people, but hey - it should all work out now. yay for that)

[madds-halflingism]

Listen, am I happy that you now get to rule the world with your SO and be evil together? Of course, evil couple takeover for astarion and minthy romancers, especially when they egged you on to do so, makes much more sense. However do I miss the tragedy of a characters who thought they were finally free and powerful being ultimately betrayed by the one they loved? Having thier love become corrupted and warped into something cruel as thier lover perpetuates thier own cycle of violence and abuse? Yes absolutely

Also yes I know this change is old but I've been busy ok

[zipquips]

petition for my parents to stop thinking i'm unprepared and being stupid with the idea of getting a pet

[cinnabeat]

its interesting bc natori is trying to protect natsume the only way he knows how and natsume is being confronted with things hes never had to before and hes learning a lot of things abt himself and his worldview

[kavehayati]

Lord give me energy today eueueue

[gentlethorns]

okay but i'm still in awe of this process. like it has been so consistent and easy. there are still days i don't feel like getting my words in but i've continued to soldier on and hit my mark day after day (except for yesterday but that wasn't just laziness or a lack of discipline, i wasn't physically feeling up to it). and i have 60k words to show for it in under a month!!!! like that is so insane to me and i'm so excited, not only about the immediate payoff (having almost a complete draft) but also about the idea that i've unlocked the secret to doing this again in the future, as many times as ideas that grace me. like this is so so huge for me and the idea that something so big can come about through small habits every day (prioritizing those 2k words no matter what) is not lost on me. so proud of myself for developing that discipline bc like i've said, i always knew and feared that i wouldn't get anywhere worthwhile without it

[mercurial-chuckles]

Witless Wednesday Thought

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff | Hot n Spicy Supersolider | Bucky losing his shit | Bucky defending you | Smitten Bucky | Smitten Reader | Language | Mutual Pining | Kissing | Happy Ending | Language | ~1k | Unbeta'd | Lemme know if I'm missing anything. A/N: I was working on another story when this tiny one sucker-punched my flow of thoughts. I scheduled it for yesterday, but that didn't work out. Anyhoo, here ya go! Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! I do not consent to AI scraping my work. GIF credits to the OP. Divider made by me. Check out my other works: Masterlist

Part of ♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

Indulge Away!

You'd never seen Bucky so angry, so enraged.

As a matter of fact, you barely saw any other emotion flit his face except impassiveness.

Sweet heavens! He was the most devastatingly handsome man you'd ever seen, too.

Normally, you would admire him inconspicuously, just like you did every day when he walked through your part of the office. But you snapped out of your 'Bucky delirium' for Wyatt's sake, who was currently being throttled by the supersoldier against the shelves.

"You don't call her that," Bucky growled.

Holy Shit! It took you a moment to peel your eyes away from that bulging bicep and clenched jaw to make sense of the situation.

One moment, Wyatt thanked you for resolving the system layout issue, 'I knew I could trust you, dawg!' Wyatt said, and the very next second, you saw Bucky throwing him against the shelves. You didn't even realize Bucky was there. He was so fast it made you question your senses.

Bucky must have misunderstood. As much as he'd adapted, James Buchanan Barnes was still a man rooted in a different era. Modern slang still tripped him, you figured.

"Please," you pleaded hurriedly, unsure how to actually intervene.

Wyatt coughed, stunned, his feet dangling as he struggled in distress.

"Bucky," you said, scared out of your wits. He looked down at you intensely, and you quickly took a small step back when you realized how close you were. As much as you silently pined loved Bucky and had imagined him doing wild things to you with that very same rage on countless occasions, you were, very realistically, intimidated at the moment.

"Please, Bucky," you whispered.

Bucky seemed to snap out of his trance as he blinked, his expression still rigid. He released Wyatt, who stumbled and fell to the floor.

Wyatt crawled away a little. Bucky stepped closer and sneered down at him, "Apologize. Now." He warned.

As much as you enjoyed your friend's sense of humor, Wyatt was so out of his depth sometimes, and you were sure his penchant for saying inappropriate shit would be the end of him. Because after all that just happened, he wouldn't shouldn't have said "Are you serious?"

Wyatt was a personality, alright! You tried your best to look at Wyatt, but Bucky's tall, broad frame blocked your view.

Bucky chuckled darkly, crouching down in front of Wyatt, who was still sprawled on his ass.

"Take a guess. DAWG," Bucky growled.

This shouldn't be funny.

This really shouldn't be turning you on as much as it was.

Wyatt finally seemed to realize the issue.

Fucking finally!

You wanted to explain that what Wyatt said was just an endearment, but the basic functioning of your brain had been fused.

"Look… I didn't mean…" Wyatt started, his gaze shifting to yours, and you must have looked like a stunned animal.

For the love of God, Wyatt! Shut up and say sorry! You thought.

"I'm sorry," Wyatt finally squeaked, trying to push himself off the ground when Bucky leaned further.

Bucky gestured toward you, "Apologize to her," he ordered.

Your heart pounded wildly. You hoped to stay upright and not fall victim to your dancing nerves.

"Sorry," Wyatt muttered, looking at you, and you felt terrified for him too. The poor guy was freaking the fuck out, and all for what, being cool?

"It's alright," you mumbled awkwardly. If not for the very adult feelings currently coursing through your body for the six-foot-something supersoldier, the whole thing might have felt like Wyatt was being scolded for pulling your pigtails on the playground.

When Bucky rose to his full height, you expected him to dash off. But he didn't. He stayed rooted in place, eyes fixed on Wyatt.

Wyatt, however, finally managed to peel himself off the floor, and he bolted in a jiff.

Good for him.

Not so great for you.

You stood there trembling, flushed, and utterly confused.

Bucky slowly turned to you, and the intensity in his gaze caught you off guard. You awkwardly shuffled back, lost your footing, and staggered. He steadied you, metal arm circling your waist and pulling you forward into his chest.

Goodness, Bucky was tall! He was so strong, all muscle, and smelled divine. The urge to nuzzle into his chest made you blush even more. Luckily, a modicum of rationality still prevailed.

But his eyes were so blue and beautiful you couldn't stop looking into them. He didn't avert his gaze either.

Bucky tilted his head and moved closer, studying your face while your brain buzzed and your ears rang.

"You okay?" he asked, his breath warm against your face.

It was totally unfair for a man to look the way he did.

"You with me, doll?"

That nickname in his raspy voice had your lips parting. Reminding yourself to respond, you put some effort into nodding your head a couple of times.

Noticing his eyes shift to your lips, your heart picked up, and you bit on your lower lip, feeling the pulse thrumming in your entire body. His tongue peeked out, quickly proceeding to lick his lower lip.

What was going on? Were you dreaming? But if you were, why did it feel so vivid? You fully expected to wake up on your couch like yesterday, with the TV running in the background.

Bucky slowly stepped back, removing his hand and taking all your sanity with his retreating touch.

"I..." Bucky began, running his fingers over his stubble and licking his lips again. You couldn't help but stare. His lips were so damn pink, and you really, really wanted to kiss him.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Your brain needed rehabilitation from Bucky Barnes.

"Wanna grab a coffee with me?" he asked.

You heard the words coming out of his mouth, you did, but you didn't quite process them. You just kept staring at him.

When you finally noticed the shift in his expression, his face falling and eyes apologetic, you cleared your throat.

"Coffee? With me?" That was a dumb response, but that was what your self-deprecating self came up with.

Bucky nodded, quite expectantly and hopefully.

"Okay," you managed to say, offering a small smile.

Bucky sighed in relief. Then he smiled, all shy and adorable, and you bet you could faint just like that.

Charming bastard! He was gonna kill you with his looks.

"Thank you," he said, grinning wildly. He felt overwhelmingly everywhere around you. Bucky shuffled, rocking on his feet awkwardly before nodding at you curtly.

"Right. Umm…I'll be here at 5:15," he said, and you nodded, though a bit too surprised he knew exactly when you clocked out.

Bucky took a few steps toward the door, and you stared longingly at his retrieving form. He stopped, turned around, and looked at you for a whole minute. His gaze transfixed you. Bucky strutted toward you and pushed you against the wall, both hands cupping your cheeks, making you gasp at the feel of them, at the feel of him.

"Sorry... I just..." he breathed against your lips, giving you a millisecond of space to push him away--you didn't. Instead, you rose on your toes, hands on his chest. Bucky groaned softly, pressed a gentle kiss to your nose, then tilted your face closer and captured your lips, tasting, nipping. The rough stubble scratched your skin sensually.

And somewhere in the corner of your mind, it became clear that Bucky Barnes, an Avenger, had no reason to stroll through the Technical Analysts' floor except for you.

Leave your thoughts if you enjoyed reading it. 💞✨

♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

If you'd like to be tagged/removed from my works, please do so here.

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: daddy kink, somno.

You’re slow to wake up. 

Mouth half open on the pillow, bead of saliva pooling at the curve of your pout with a hand tucked under you chin like an angel, you’re still drifting somewhere in dreamland, your body far more aware than your mind. It’s late, and lazy, and he’s already handled all of the puppy’s morning duties and showered. He decided to go back to bed afterwards, sliding behind you under the covers and locking you back against him, leaving you no room to move, or pull away as he slid two fingers down your belly to your clit. You’re a heavy sleeper, making soft little sounds and whimpers plenty, but still no signs of waking up, even as you shifted, unconsciously giving him better access, allowing him to slip two fingers inside you and slowly stretch. 

You’re ready. He’s taken a slow, methodical approach, carefully stretching  tissue and muscle to be more accommodating, though he knows no amount of prep will soften the initial pain. 

“Mmm,” your head turns, lashes fluttering, and he closes his mouth over yours, slipping his tongue behind your teeth and bringing you into consciousness as gently as he can while his arm wraps like steel around your hip, fingers firmly buried inside you, palm grinding against your clit. 

You come to all at once. Every sense igniting, a ripple of awareness bringing your legs closed tight at his wrist. 

“Shh, you’re okay.” He murmurs against your ear, pinning you to the mattress with his weight. Your instinct is to push away, evade the overflow of thought and feeling, but he’s too heavy. You’re trapped. Overflowing with sensation, clit pulsing under his touch. 

“Wh-what-” 

“Sleepy girl, slept right through daddy putting his fingers inside you, didn’t you?” Everything about you is dazed and open, wanting, trusting, and you nod hurriedly. 

“Daddy,” you moan, pushing your hips back towards his, “d-daddy, I’m-” He slows, and you whine in protest.

“You’ve been so good, taking daddy’s fingers, letting him stretch you out. I think you’re ready.” 

“Ready?” The last syllable rings with confusion. 

“Ready for your daddy to fuck your sweet little pussy.” You shiver, a ripple cascading from head to toe, unbidden moan slipping from your lips. “Do you want that? Want daddy’s cock inside you?” 

“Y-yes,” he flicks your clit and returns to his previous rhythm. “Yes, please, oh- please.” You’re lost to the impending orgasm, already there with a flick of his wrist, quickly rocketing up and over, riding his hand, twitching and crying. 

Daddy, daddy, daddy. 

“I’m sorry I’m so tired.” You’re still nestled into him in bed, cheek to chest, slipping in and out of snoring as he turns the pages of a paperback. 

“It’s okay baby. You work hard, you need rest.” It’s a slow Sunday, and you need it. Eight to ten hours a day on your feet, constantly moving, kneading, lifting, rolling… it all takes a toll, one he wishes he could alleviate, though he’d never take your passion from you. He’s grateful it’s there, fulfills you, brought you to him. 

Right now, there’s nothing to do but take care of you, and Duchess, who’s snuffling at the foot of the bed, little puppy belly turned up towards the ceiling, paws in the air. You yawn. 

“I need a vacation.” 

“Mmm,” he strokes a line down your back, chasing the goosebumps. It’s not a terrible idea, take you away for a bit, get you out of town and into the sun. Maybe… “Where would you go?” Your brow crinkles. 

“I don’t know… I’ve always wanted to go to Lisbon. For the bakeries. And the beach…” You trail off and avert your eyes. “I’ve always been… it’s too much to go alone and I don’t really have anyone…” your pulse flickers under your jaw as he cups it. 

“I’ll take you, sweetheart, if that’s what you want. I’ll take you anywhere.” Lisbon is more than doable, it’s safe, and easy for him to navigate. It won’t be an issue. 

“Really?” You brighten, lip tucked beneath teeth, corners lifting into a smile. 

“Of course.” He’d give you anything, everything. Take you anywhere. A yawn drags your mouth into a circle. “Why don’t you close your eyes for a bit longer.” 

“‘m not tired anymore.” Brat. He raises an eyebrow, and you look away sheepishly. “Okay well… maybe for a little.” Good girl. “Can we take Duchess to the park? Later?” It’s your new favorite thing. A long loop down the street to the green space and back, a solid rhythm he’s working to settle you in so you can continue the habit when he’s away. 

“Sure baby. Now close your eyes.” 

“Open.” He forks another bite of pancake into your mouth. “Good girl.” Pancakes. He’s gotten pretty good at it, using your moods, emotions, as a barometer for what will make you happiest food wise. 

When you’re tired and a little bit cranky, it’s breakfast for dinner. 

He managed to get you outside for a bit, walking beside you and Duchess at a leisurely pace, soaking in the small bits he’s never truly enjoyed. The sapphire blue shade of the sky, the chirp of the bugs and birds, quiet lap of the pond. He’s always walked with purpose, never for love, for the act of it, but now, taking his time with you, living with you, he gets it all, experiences the world as you do, eats up every single second. Just being able to take a leisurely stroll with you and the dog is more than he’s ever expected for his life. 

It was a nice little outing, followed by a shower before he put you right back in bed, settling you in the nest of pillows and blankets. Even after a day of slipping in and out of a nap, you’re still exhausted. 

“Daddy.” You’re waiting for the next bite, mouth open, Duchess at your side watching intently like she’s going to get some pancakes too. 

“Sorry sweet girl,” he scrapes another piece free across the plate for you, pleased that you’ve eaten three fourths of your dinner. You reach for a piece of bacon, chewing thoughtfully, untangling a snare that's caught some of your words, and he waits. Always. 

“I was thinking…” when you don’t continue right away, he places a hand on your thigh, the skin to skin soothing the turbulent chaos in your mind, the things trying to sort themselves out. “I um, I saw the motorcycle in the garage the other day…” pleasantly surprised, he nods encouragingly, and you swallow. “I was wondering if maybe, you- we- you could take me on it?” He hasn’t been on the bike in about a year now, content to let it sit in its spot until he had the time, the energy to take it out. The joy of riding has never faded, but it’s different now. He used to ride because a part of him hoped the road might take him, might end him, though it’s been a long time since then, a long time since the darkness controlled him. Now, the bike waits for him, waits for when he has a moment to himself, a moment he can relax and enjoy it. 

This will be the perfect one. 

“You want to go on a bike ride baby?” You look up at him through your lashes. 

“I always thought it might be cool to know what it’s like.” Brave girl. You’re still a bit unsure, and he casts the plate aside to hold your hands in his. 

“I’ll take you, but following your rules will be very important. You’ll need to listen to me at all times, and tell me if you’re scared. Do you understand?” It will be a lot. Loud. Intimidating. An overall new experience he’ll have to coach you through, but he knows you can do it. You nod excitedly. 

“Yes daddy I do, I will. I promise.” The fork and plate rattle, and you squeal. “Duchess!” She's licking a string of syrup off her nose, clearly pleased with herself. The rest of your dinner is gone, and you’re trying hard not to laugh as he barely suppresses his own. It’s easy for him to get distracted around you, easy to forget the rest of the world when he’s got you here where it’s safe, in his home, where he doesn’t need to think about anything else, threats, fears, chaos. It doesn’t surprise him he forgot about the plate and put it down in reach of the dog.

You sigh, mischievous spark in your irises like a bad little girl who knew all along. “Oh well. Guess she was hungry.”