#but when i tell you i am making the content i want to see i mean that shit

[scentedpeachlandcreator]

how i manifested my dream life with extremely hard circumstances + how you can too ♡

Note: this is not my post and it's blushydior's post that everyone been searching for, so i thought why not making it as a post,and blushy if you see this, please don't kill me i know you said that you'll change your post but you disappeared After that.

♡ table of contents:

1. the importance of making this post

2.my take on manifestation + the 3D

3. HOW I DID IT - my journey in 4 phases i went through that include my mindset changes up to the moment i got my desires 

4. your new rules & routine from this moment on

5. a note from me!

6. frequently asked questions: separated into topics regarding the 3D, self concept + miscellaneous questions to have you leaving this post stress free.

now let’s get into it. read every bit of this post “ ~ ୨୧ ♡ ·

I. THE IMPORTANCE OF MAKING THIS POST

i’ve been through it all. you can read my experiences from old life in the “my life before” section of my success story + here, here, here and here. this is my success story on how the law of assumption has changed my life. as you can see from the “how” section of the post, i had purposely left it short, sweet and simple to avoid people complicating the simplicity of the law of assumption. but as time went on, anons and other blogs made me realize that since people do tend to over-complicate the law, the need i felt to make an in-depth post on how i personally manifested through my hard circumstances grew strong.

my blog often highlights topics that pertain to mental health, so i want to make sure those who find themselves in the same situations as i once were feel seen, heard and loved. you are all so powerful, amazing and hold so much potential more than you know. with this post, i hope i am able to help you realize that fact to the best of my abilities.

𝐈𝐈. MY TAKE ON MANIFESTATION + THE 3D

something that you’ll see me say all the time is: “life is a blank canvas.” that’s because it truly is.

remember that you are working with the law of assumption. what you assume to be true, is true. nothing is set in stone unless you say it is. things have meaning only if you assign it one.

you are the sole creator of your life. you are the artist that controls the brush/pen, you control what goes on and off of this very malleable canvas we call life. you don’t have to do anything. therefore,

you don’t have to: affirm 24/7, be specific, word your affirmations correctly, listen to subliminals, ignore the 3D, be positive all the time, meditate, have high vibrations, script, visualize, do sats or lullaby, go into the void, affirm in the present tense, avoid the mirror, etc.

you can literally say a random word like “bonk” and if saying it means you have all your desires or money is constantly filling your bank account, then that’s what will happen!

“but what if my subconscious doesn’t know what it means?” your subconscious mind is literally you. it’s not some stranger separate from you. if you want a scene to play out a certain way on a specific date or a romantic partner with all the most perfect qualities even if you can’t name it all at the top of your head, your subconscious has your back with the details! you have your own back. don’t worry.

YOU DON’T HAVE TO IGNORE THE 3D.

read that again and again and again and again and-if your circumstances are quite literally in your face, how can you turn the other way and ignore it? you could if you wanted but you’ll only be doing more harm and we don’t want that, right?

“so then what do i do?” you KNOW it’s going to change. it’s challenging when you don’t fully believe the law to know it’s going to change, so for a start, tell yourself that this is not the end. why? because the moment you had a desire and claimed it as yours, it has already been set stone in the 4D so the 3D has no choice but to reflect it. this is your movie, you KNOW this is not the end. you are director and star of this movie! you control how it’s going to play out.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. HOW I DID IT - The 4 Phases (more so, 3)

PHASE 1:

i found out about manifestation from tiktok. from there i have tried scripting, law of attraction and had taken a liking into the craft. i tried it all until i found out about the law of assumption, sammy ingram and finally, tumblr.

PHASE 2:

upon finding out about loassumption tumblr, i had learned more and more about the law but as time went on, i had realized i had never really fully tried to apply the law. the idea just didn’t come about to apply it. as many others, i had overconsumed information, always wondering if i was doing it right, questioning the 3D,

so i took a break. upon discharge, i realized many things and decided to spend an extended amount of time alone, away from social media. i’m someone who values alone time as long as if it’s spent wisely.

during this time away from tumblr and sns platforms in general, constantly surrounded by other people’s takes, information, and opinions, i had learned so much about the law of assumption on my own! i went into the law of assumption with a fresh mind, actually applying the knowledge and overtime of affirming and persisting, i ACTUALLY understood the meaning behind “creation is finished. it is done.”

i’m advising you to step away from social media (that on it’s own has negative impacts) and be alone with your thoughts. i know your thoughts haven’t had it’s time to be alone because you’re most likely constantly seeking information to help you. and i don’t blame you. it’s just that, you are always bombarded by thoughts that aren’t your own, you barely give some time to yourself to think for yourself!

PHASE 3:

and if you can’t help but be on tumblr for other reasons than loassumption, unfollow blogs for the time being, scroll past informational posts to avoid second guessing your application. tell yourself that

YOU ARE DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT!

when it was time to apply the law, i simplified it. you choose what you desire, you affirm from your desire and persist. okay! got it. so that’s what i did. i affirmed whenever i thought about my desire, i kept saying that it is done! so in phase 2, i mentioned how i realized how creation was ACTUALLY done, right? before deciding to apply the law, i kept seeing posts saying that but i didn’t really fully understand it until the realization hit me during my time away from social media. (see? i love alone time. solitude is my bff) — here’s my breakdown for you:

once you decide a desire is yours to claim, THE SECOND you affirm that, in your head, imagination, your 4D, it is ALREADY yours. therefore, it has no choice to become physical reality. (this is why your subconscious only needs to hear things once in order for it to conform!)

it will always be yours for as long as you sustain that assumption (persist), it is yours! no matter what.

this is the meaning of “it is done.” it’s like telling a chef what dish you want, once they know what you want, they’ve got you covered. except that this chef is you. you know the details of your desire, you declare it’s going to conform instantly so why are you worrying? there is no need to worry.

informational post on the 4D + 3D here:

❝ If you judge after appearances, you will continue to be enslaved by the evidence of your senses. To break this hypnotic spell of the senses you are told, "Go within and shut the door,” The door of the senses must be tightly shut before your new claim can be honored .Instead of fighting against the evidence of the senses you claim yourself to be that which you desire to be. As your attention is placed on this claim, the doors of the senses automatically close against your former master (that which you were conscious of being). As you become lost in the feeling of being (that which you are now claiming to be true of yourself) the doors of the senses once more open, revealing your world to be the perfect expression of that which you are conscious of being. ❞

i kept time away from social media and being persistent really helped me be aware of my thoughts.

persistence has helped me:

be aware of thoughts that i wouldn’t have been able to catch before. for example, i was declaring that i have all of my desires and creation was done, but i found myself affirming “okay but where is it?” — this made me realize i was questioning my desires in my 3D even though i knew it was done in the 4D. (you don’t have to do this, you can imply your 3D conforms fast with whatever affs)

flip and interrupt my intrusive thoughts faster and faster the more i persisted. i hated my intrusive thoughts so much. like it was so annoying and hurtful. it was filled with replaying past scenarios that happened to me, things i wished had played out differently, just people who absolutely did not deserve the right to be occupying my mind and space! so i was grateful to learn that with persistence, i started to have less and less of those.

(see!! mental diet, persistence!! <3 this is how habits form and strengthen duhh. remember not to abandon common sense for the law)

AND THEN, PHASE 4:

i had entered sabbath, the state of the wish fulfilled, calm and relaxation that my desire has already manifested and there wasn’t nothing left for me to do other than persist. after so much persisting and saturating my mind with my affirmations, i reached being peace with my desires. i’m really glad i persisted. see how after persistence of assumptions, though false, will harden into fact? see how even your affirmations would feel “fake” at first but will soon feel natural to you? this means that i wasn’t questioning where it was, how long it was taking, etc. but this doesn’t mean i was ignoring my 3D. i saw it all but i knew it was going to change BECAUSE i felt peace in my inevitable desires.

then, i received my desires.

❝ I couldn’t possibly be worried about anything if I really believe that imagining creates reality. ❞

❝ When I speak of feeling I do not mean emotion, but acceptance of the fact that the desire is fulfilled. Feeling grateful, fulfilled, or thankful, it is easy to say, “Thank You,” “Isn’t it wonderful!” or “It is finished.” When you get into the state of thankfulness, you can either awaken knowing it is done, or fall asleep in the feeling of the wish fulfilled. ❞

𝐈𝐕. YOUR NEW RULES & ROUTINE

☆┆YOUR 3 NEW RULES ARE:

1, you have all your desires

i have all of my desires

creation is finished. it is done.

2. you manifest quickly and easily

manifesting is always so easy and instant for me

i always manifest within 2 days or less, the 3D conforms instantly.

the 3D instantly reflect my 4D

the physical reality instantly reflects my 4D/imaginative reality

3. you are okay because nothing can stop you from getting the inevitable

everything is going to be okay because creation is done

i am always aware of my thoughts. nothing can stop/get in the way of my desires.

no amount of intrusive thoughts, events and opinions of others have the power to stop my manifestations.

✉️: choose one affirmation from each list or make one of your own that makes you feel comfortable.

☆┆ROUTINE:

affirm on loop as an act of saturating your mind whenever you think of your desire until you feel satisfied,

in the morning, after you wake up: saturate your mind with affs.

read the manifesting vaunt below everyday (whenever you feel like it) — read it over and over again until you feel confident then go about your day!!

at night, before you sleep, affirm this:

“i kept all my thoughts in check today. i didn’t waver once. my mind is completely saturated with the new story.”

optional tip: if you want to saturate your mind even more as a start, you can set reminders with sticky notes around your space, have affs on your phone lock screen or wear a bracelet.

✉️ NOTE: soon enough, your mind will be saturated and you won’t need to do this anymore. this is just a start for those who battle intrusive thoughts!

let yourself feel any emotions that may come up because of your hard circumstances then once it’s out of your system, affirm your rules, especially rule #3!

do not consume any loassumption information if you know it will only cause you to second guess your ability. if you have the urge to ask a blog a question, try to make sense of what they will say and answer it yourself.

in times of doubt, remember that life is a blank canvas. your desire is set in stone, so your only task is to persist.

REASSURANCE VAUNT

creation is ACTUALLY finished. it is done. the second i claimed my desires as mine, it has already manifested itself in the 4D so it has no choice to present itself in the 3D! all i have to do is affirm and persist. i always have unwavering faith in my manifesting abilities and the law. i never fail. i am successful at every single thing i do. manifesting is so effortless. no amount of doubt, worry, fear, anxiety, intrusive thoughts or events can ever, and i mean EVER stop my manifestations. why? because i said so. this is MY life. i make the rules. so if i say i manifest easily, the 3D conforms instantly and that i have all of my desires, then it is a FACT. i’m literally unstoppable. everything i want is inevitable. my only task is to persist, sit back and relax as the 3D reflects my 4D. it all happens so fast, but what else do you expect from a master manifester like me?

SOMETHING TO NOTE:

most of the time, people think affirming on loop is saying it like a robot but what you don’t realize is that you’re affirming as if you’re reading a book. it’s not filled with enthusiasm but it’s not exactly monotone either. stop overthinking it. it’s like the voice you’re reading this post with. correct?

again, soon enough, your affirmations will feel natural and you won’t feel the need to affirm constantly. the routine above was given for those who battle intrusive thoughts, making your affirmations dominate to the point where you don’t waver.

QUOTES on STATES:

❝ I paid thirty dollars for my first suit. Today a suit will cost me $200.00, but regardless of the cost, when the suit is new I am aware of it. But let me wear it long enough for it to feel natural and I will no longer be conscious of it. The same is true for a state. You may desire the state of fame. If you will think you are famous and remain conscious of the state long enough to make it natural, as the thoughts flow from you they become a natural part of your body of beliefs, and the world will proclaim your fame. ❞

❝ I urge you to use your own wonderful creative power and deliberately move into the state of your choice. Make it now by occupying the state long enough so that it feels natural. Haven’t you had a suit of clothes that felt so new you were conscious of them every moment? I know when I bought my first suit I walked down Fifth Avenue thinking everyone I passed knew my suit was new. People passing paid no attention to me, but I was so aware, so conscious of my new suit. That’s exactly that happens when you move into a new state. If the state of affluence is new, you think everyone knows it, but no one knows or cares whether you are rich or poor, so walk in the state until it becomes natural. The moment the feeling is natural, wealth is yours! ❞

𝐕. ENDING NOTE

i love you. read that again. you can do it. read that again. i am so so so so proud of you. read that again! you are so strong, you have SOO much potential and power. it’s time for you to tap into it, angel. stop making excuses. stop telling yourself you can’t do it. stop the nonsense! you’ve dealt with your hard circumstances long enough, it’s time for you to turn to the person who can make that change (you) and make it happen. i’m really sorry you have to go through what you did. you certainly do not deserve the unkind treatment. give yourself a hug and tell yourself that this. is. it. you’re going to make the change. you know it and i do too. it’s possible. nothing is impossible for the person who believes! keep the faith in yourself. nothing can stop you.

it’s like those movies where the mc finds out they hold so much power. they doubt it because of the life they’ve had so far but once they give it a shot, they become the most powerful hero ever. you are that hero!!!

i love you and i am, again, giving you the biggestttt hug ever.

now, with that being said, @blushydior​ will no longer be taking asks regarding this topic. i’ve cleared most of the questions that could ever arise. you don’t need my guidance anymore after this post! im seeing you off now. i love you. stay safe. know that you’re loved and hold the power to change your life.

— kisses from bambi ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

ps. make sure you clicked the words that have links! <3 (the links are missing)

𝐕𝐈. FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

Something you wish you could’ve told yourself before you manifested it all to make things easier for anyone struggling:

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.

you guys are beating yourself up for something so simple. take a step back and realize that. you’re already dealing with such hard circumstances, so why are you literally degrading yourself for something so within your power and reach? tell yourself everything is going to be okay. you’re always doing your best. you deserve the WORLD.

I could write a whole novel, combine all the posts on tumblr teaching the law of assumption, and every helpful ask out there but at the end of the day, YOU are the only person who could change your life. YOU make the call. turn every doubtful question to a positive one, when in doubt, turn inwards toward the 4D and know that it is real. it is done the second you affirmed it so.

SPEND TIME ALONE.

i can NOT stress this enough. i didn’t include the details of my time alone in phase 2 for nothing. you’ll see that you can answer your own questions. you’ll catch the thoughts you missed because you have always been so adamant on getting answers to questions you already knew. take a deep breathe and stay firm.

SEE WHAT’LL HAPPEN IF YOU DON’T GIVE UP.

What did you affirm to get your dream life?

basically my affirmations i gave above and these. all i used were blanket affirmations.

What does persisting mean to you? What does persisting really feel like? Is it just like a mental diet? or what?

“persisting is sticking to what you want / the end no matter what you’re shown, told, and what you experience + picking yourself up after letting any negative emotions & thoughts pass by.” — blushydior from this ask here (sadly the link is missing:()

+ keeping your thoughts in line of the same category. to word this in a different way, i can affirm so many affirmations just as long as they mean the same thing to me!

“it also is a mental diet. we’re always persisting in something. it’s just a matter of what you’re persisting in. you either persist in your desire or negative/non-beneficial thought 24/7.”

“in your post about how you changed your life, you said you just affirmed and persisted. but from your other posts it seems like you read neville goddard books. so did you just affirm or did you do imaginal acts too? i get confused when people say “just affirm and persist” cause neville never said that.” (original ask here) (note from Eli: the link is missing).

“yes, i read his books and sometimes i would do imaginal acts but i would only do that bc it helped me get by my circumstances, yk? like if i was overwhelmed i would just daydream lol. its like how i read books to escape to another world. but i would say, affirming and persisting was what i focused more on.

i just used what worked for me and used his quotes as a reminder of the power of man. i didn’t want to bound myself to one’s teaching constantly worrying if im doing it “right” or not so instead, i went back to his quotes that consisted of telling me to persist, look inwards, finding confirmation in my imagination, etc whenever i needed a pick me up.

but correct me if i’m wrong, i’m pretty sure many of the success stories he shared consisted of people simply decreeing their desires and feeling the wish fulfilled simply by repetition and acceptance of their assumption.”

What is saturating your mind?

read about it here (the link is missing, but Basically it is repeating an affirmation every minute or hour until you feel fulfilled)

Do we have to believe our affirmations? Did you ever doubt the law in the process?

no, i did not believe my affirmations and YES of course i doubted the law but i kept persisting either way because what could i lose? and here i am.

Did you just affirm, persist, maintain a mental diet and that’s it? No SATS, going to the void, lullaby, repeating affirmations? Did you just got it sleep?

just affirming and persisting. sure, the occasional lullaby, i usually affirmed for 10 seconds max before i gave up. i couldn’t sleep without imagining some romantic scenario LOL #bambiexposed

How to deal with manipulation and narcissism?

remind yourself that you’re in advantage because you know about the law of assumption. life is a dream, you can literally have whatever you want just by affirming. if you know that, why allow yourself succumb to other people’s thoughts and beliefs? i couldn’t allow other people’s thoughts ruin my chance of living my dream life. the thought of it alone gave me the worst feeling.

How did you tackle the feelings of having no hope? + After being in the victim state for so long what did you do to get yourself out and actually stay out?

i persisted on loop whenever i doubted the law. i reminded myself that it doesn’t hurt to just be quiet, affirm and persist to live my dream life. just do it. you gain nothing from turning back to your old habits. see what’ll happen if you don’t give up. ❝ Do you always turn to your imagination and, no matter what happens, do you remain faithful to the state imagined? If you do, you have passed the test. But if every little rumor, doubt, or fear can move you around like a pawn on a chessboard, then you are not keeping the faith! ❞ ❝ Objects seem so independent of our perception of them that we incline to forget that they owe their origin to imagination.❞

What was the timeframe of when you got your desires?

about a week after deciding to be strict with self discipline, mind you, i was dealing with hard circumstances and intrusive thoughts for years. within this time span, i had entered sabbath so i immediately got my desires.

How did you kept a positive mindset when it looked like there was no movement?

refer back to phase 3

What was your affirming routine?

AT FIRST, when i started to get sick of overconsumption and not getting my desires, i knew my mind wasn’t saturated/my desires were not my dominant thoughts. so, i decided to be strict with myself. i reminded myself with pieces of paper in my room that said: ❝ PERSIST. new story only!❞ ❝ AFFIRM!❞

❝ 1.) the 3D conforms instantly.

2.) AFFIRM THE DESIRED

3.) BE LOT.❞

and taped them on the wall infront of my bed & one on my door so i can see it before i head out.

i didn’t need them anymore after a few days. (phase 3 & 4)

What did you do on all the days you woke up and things were still the same?

stop affirming that you don’t see results. i flipped the thought of “nothing’s changed.” to “i am in my desired reality, it is done.” and so on. be stern and remind yourself that you are in control. don’t fall prey to the 3D. turn inwards, find confirmation in the 4D. read quotes above.

How did you not react to the 3D?

i allowed myself to be angry. if i wanted to cry, i did. if i wanted to vent, i did. i ranted my feelings out in my head, aloud or in a journal then proceeded to go back to the new story after i cooled down.

But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?”

you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track. i ranted for 2% of my 24 hour days. the other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and i felt more at ease. i held onto that feeling because i knew this was when i would get my desires and i did. letting out and actually feeling your feelings is important. you’re not a robot.

Did you script how your life would be?

no.

(.𖥔 ݁ note from Eli: here's her post about her life before and After she changed it with LOA, anyway i wanted to make it in a post since the Google document can't let you make a copie of it and plus you can't take screenshots which René didn't allow)

[pearlzier]

tbh i think nerd!matt explaining fortnite terms, items.. guns.. ect to me would fix me

- 🧃

⠀⠀⠀ˑ   𓈒 𐔌  ㅤnerd.ᐟmatt  ×  nerd.ᐟreader   ͡꒱ ۫⠀

⎯⎯⠀⠀⠀your honour i love them !!! theyre so cutesy !!! also someone tell me if the layout is cute or not....... gdjdh yay :3 n also whether i should write more for these two gaspsies

YOU'D BEEN SAT BESIDE MATT as he played fortnite for a while now, maybe an hour or so. you didn't exactly want to bother him, so you'd been quiet for the most part. when matt plays fortnite, he takes it seriously, when he loses? yeah, he needs a little time to cool down after before he says things he's pretty sure he'll regret. his tongue idly flicks at the gum in his mouth, jaw working occasionally on it as he sits at the desk, meanwhile, his fingers deftly work at the mouse. your eyes linger on the veins on his hand a moment before you catch yourself, knowing he almost has a sixth sense for those sort of things.

eventually, he notices your silence. pushing back his headphones, he glances at you over his shoulder and gives you a soft smile. even though he was focusing on his game, he always preferred hearing your voice. "you're quiet, babe," he murmurs, multitasking glancing at you and also playing the game. you always wonder how he does it, but well, that's matt for you. "you okay?" his brow furrows a minute, biting his bottom lip before his head tilts to the side a little bit. at that, a soft smile plays on your lips, and you nod.

"yeah, yeah, just watchin' you," all you'd been doing was scrolling your phone, watching him. you were pretty content to be completely honest, but of course, you did want his attention. "m'not distractin' you, am i?" you say after a second, placing your phone down into your lap so you can focus your attention on him.

"distracting me?" matt scoffs, a quiet chuckle slipping past his lips. "in all respect, you're not exactly doin' anythin' to distract me," he teases softly, and his smile grows when he sees the way you roll your eyes. a warmth runs through him at the sight—god, he falls more and more in love with you each day, he's sure of it. "c'mere," he says, "missin' you." his voice goes a little quieter there, a tad bit needy in parts.

"needy," you retort, a giggle escaping you, but all the while, you get up and make your way over to him. his eyes rake over you, lingering at different parts of you. damn it, he loves the dorky little graphic tee that you're wearing, it suits you so damn well. "y'too far away," he's quiet for a minute, "if i asked you to sit on my lap would that be crazy?"

"might have to ask my lawyer," there's a playfully reluctant tone in your voice, and matt gasps, his mouth falling open with a little indignant noise. that in itself makes you giggle, and you peck a quick kiss to his forehead before planting yourself into his lap. matt leans back, letting you settle in his lap before he moves forward again to press his chest up against your back. shifting his weight beneath you, a soft sigh slips past his lips. "comfy?" he asks, head tilting to the side.

glancing back at him, you agree, "comfy," and he hums, resting his chin against your shoulder so he can look at the screen once more. wrapping his arms around you, he gets back to playing the game, humming occasionally. "gonna actually crash out if some kid starts campin' again," he scoffs, eyes rolling as he plays. your brows furrow a moment, a tad bit of confusion filling your gaze. "campin'?"

"y'know, people who stay in a certain area, jus' waitin' to kill you. campin', like they're settin' up a tent in a place just to shoot at ya," he explains it effortlessly, licking his lips after, not even giving it a second thought. he knows fortnite like the back of his hand, like he knows you. basically—he knows practically everything about it. "oh," you nod, biting your bottom lip before you release it with another nod. "you get it?" matt asks gently, wanting to make sure you understand what he's on about before he continues playing.

he enjoys telling you things about the stuff he likes, sharing his interests. though he knows you're not as into fortnite or gaming as he is, he knows you like learning things from him anyway. "okay, good, you'll be a pro in no time," he muses, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder before he glances back at the game again. you watch him, seeing how he doesn't have to focus all that much and still be damn goof at the game. it's admirable.

after a few minutes, he realises the warmth that ran through him when he'd explained what camping was. it was simple, shouldn't have meant as much to him as it did, but it did. he's quiet, quiet grunts coming from him as he plays before he's speaking again, voice soft, "y'know what a dub is, baby?" it's hard for him to hide how giddy this makes him, getting to teach you this stuff.

"uh.." immediate thought? like, the english voice overs for animes and stuff, but you're 99% sure that's not what he's talking about right now. "no," you say, once you've considered his words. "mmh, a dub is just a win, i guess. what, uh, about a one pump? in game, of course, uh.. not anythin' else," he knows you don't know this stuff, which makes it a little better for him. eyes lifting to yours, a soft smile plays on his plush lips, followed by a flush on his cheeks when he clears up any misconceptions.

"you're askin' me like m'supposed to know," the words are grumbled as they leave your mouth, but you smile, shaking your head. you're not exactly into video games like he is, he's a video game fiend. you literally have to rip him off his console to get him to sleep or to get him to leave the house. meanwhile, you've got your head buried in a book or eyes glued to your phone screen 'cause of some good fanfiction. you'd get him to read some fanfics with you one day, you're sure of it.

"there's uh," matt sits up, "one sec," he waits until he's shot some guy in the game, so he can focus on explaining to you as he hides out in some corner of the map. "i mean, it got vaulted, but there's a pump shotgun, right?" you nod, not exactly understanding what he means by vaulted, but sure. seemingly, he notices this, and he adds, "vaulted s'like, they're not in the weapon rotation right now. so taken out, like, to balance the loot pool. you followin' so far?" you're a little busy looking at the way the light in his eyes shimmers with every word he speaks, but you mumble a quiet, "uh-huh," in response to show you're listening.

"okay, yeah, so s'called the pump shotgun, so what d'ya think a one pump is?" damn matt and his ability to teach so well. no wonder he tutored people for some extra cash on the side, he was damn good at it.

"one pump?" you ask after a few seconds.

one corner of his lips flits up, into a small smirk. "that's right, yeah, one pump. think about it," matt encouages, leaning his head against your shoulder a little more before he adds on, "you got this. real simple. like.. a type of shot."

"one pump.. uh, takes one shot to kill someone in game? with the.. pump shotgun?" it's a wild guess of yours, you had no clue, a shot in the dark, to say the least. but to your surprise, it's right, and he practically beams. "you're so fuckin' smart," he sighs, a little giggle of his own escaping him. nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, he gives you a few gentle kisses as a little well done for getting it right. it was simple, sure, but he was so proud of you for getting it right.

"y'sure you haven't played fortnite before? might be even better than i am," matt mutters, and he revels in the way you laugh at his words. "you're laughin', i mean it!" he whines a little, poking you in the side which only causes you to laugh more. "mmh, okay, baby, whatever you say," though your words are a little muffled by the kisses you give him on his cheek, he hears you, and his smile only grows a lot more. "don't 'whatever you say' me.." he grumbles.

the moment is cut short however by him realising that the storm is closing in on him, and he quickly sits up, "oh, shit," he grabs the mouse again, "impromptu lesson on don't stay in the storm or y'die, you payin' attention? great."

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @55sturn, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @beetlejenna, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @deansbite, @beridollie, @pr3ttyf4wn, @sincerebabydoll, @cayleeuhithinknot, @j2ss7, @sweetrelieef, @l3sbiancvnt, @fallbhind, @beausling ִ ꒱

[reidrum]

stargazing | s.r.

A/N: this was a request and the concept itself makes me sick so here’s this, spencer reid i will fight your demons for you get behind me

summary: in which you attempt to heal a little part of spencer, one star at a time

cw: just fluff and comfort, fear of dark, can be read as gn!reader

wc: 1.1k

Learning about Spencer was a privilege, if you had to describe it. He would most likely say the same about you if he was asked, but god does he not know the marvel of discovering the inner workings and tinkerings that is Spencer Reid.

You knew he loved magic because of the child-like wonder and imagination it brings him. He always reads old literature in their native language because he believes the translated ones muddle the original intent. He refuses to wear matching socks because he loves when kids point out they’re mismatched and he gets to act all silly with them.

And tonight, you’ve learned yet another one. Spencer Reid is afraid of the dark.

It’s a logical fear to have, hell you still sleep with a nightlight and stuffie every night too. But for Spencer, it was different. The darkness didn’t just remind him of the unknown, it reminded him of places he’d been, places he spent countless nights trying to forget about but latch onto him like a blood sucking leech.

When you found out about it, it was completely unintentional. It happened at a movie night about a week ago, it was getting too late for you to drive back home so Spencer offered you to stay over and head back in the morning. After he’d given you a change of his clothes he went and got settled on the bed, and you went over to the light switch to turn it off.

“Wait!” you hear Spencer rush out, “Do you mind if we…keep it on?”

“You sure? I thought you were really sleepy.”

He looks at you nervously, “I—I am, it’s just…” he trails off.

It takes you a few seconds to understand what he really means, a look of recognition washing over your face while Spencer’s fills with guilt.

“It’s okay, we can keep it on.” you say lightly, walking back over to get under the covers with him. You cozy up next to him and look up, “I didn’t know you were…”

“I don’t really talk about it, I’m sorry.” he whispers, his voice still holding what sounded like shame to you.

“Spence, it’s okay you don’t need to explain to me. Just want you to be comfortable, okay?”

He nods one last time before sinking his head down onto his pillow, and through his lashes wishes you good night. It really broke your heart to see Spencer be so affected by something that made him feel scared and self conscious. You just wish you could do something to help him feel better.

Lucky for you, you knew Spencer really well.

The next movie night you came prepared with a surprise of your own, hoping it would ease Spencer’s anxieties a little as he tried his best to rest.

“You look excited. More than you usually are when I pick an old Russian movie.” he remarks with a soft smile, opening the door wider for you.

“While I am very excited to watch Catch 22 in Russian, I brought something for you!”

He looks at you quizzically, “What? You didn’t need to bring anything, you know that—”

You wave him off and bound over to the couch, “Come sit, I’ll show you.”

Spencer shuts the door and sits next to you as you produce an opened package from behind your back, “Okay, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,”

“Always a great way to start a sentence.” he quips.

“Stop! I’m being serious,” you lightly thwap him on the shoulder, “Okay, I couldn’t stop thinking about how you told me you’re afraid of the dark, and I’m really happy that you felt comfortable enough to tell me, but it also made me really sad to think about you alone in your room not feeling okay…so.”

Before Spencer can even respond you pull out the contents of the opened package and lay it in your lap, beginning to work on opening the outer plastic. His brows furrow slightly, “What is that?”

You smile, “Well I was going to get you a cool nightlight, I saw some sick Tardis ones or even a pumpkin shaped one. Which I can still get if you want or if you hate this…” you finally get the last plastic off and pull out what’s inside, “But I got you these.” you hold them out for him to see.

Spencer gazes over your hands and asks, “Stars?”

“They’re glow in the dark stars,” you say matter of factly. You hold one out for him, watching him cup his hand around his eye to shroud the star in darkness and see its glow, “I used to have them on the ceiling and walls in my room when I was little.”

He smiles fondly thinking about a tiny you in a tiny bed, staring up at the stars on your ceiling as you try to fall asleep. You continue softly, “I was thinking we could put these up in your room and make little astronomically correct constellations on your ceiling. The intention is that whenever you look up you can remind yourself of the stories of the constellations to help you fall back asleep. But whenever you’re feeling afraid or scared, you can look up and see Ursa Major or Cassiopeia reminding you that you’re safe.”

Spencer is not often left speechless, but he’s come to learn that anything’s possible with you. He is not able to process that you took it upon yourself to find a solution to something that’s been plaguing his sleep for years, something that he didn’t even know could be fixed. A few tears escape from his eyes before he can help it, followed by a quick sniffle that brings your attention back to his face.

“Oh Spence,” you breathe out, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, no I’m not upset,” he pulls his sleeve to wipe his eyes, “The exact opposite, actually. This…is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

You smile softly, “I just wanted to help. You deserve to rest and feel safe in your own space. If I can help with that in any way, I will.”

For the fear of crying again in front of you, Spencer grabs you and pulls you close to his chest, the smell of his laundry detergent and cologne overwhelming your senses so much you almost miss the muffled ‘Thank you’ whispered into your hair.

You press a small kiss to his chest, right on his heart before standing up and gathering the stars in your hands, “Okay, so which constellation are we doing first?”

All the love inside of him is about to burst as he looks at you about to walk into the bedroom, “Have I ever told you about the story of Perseus and Andromeda?”

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. we ain’t spoke in so long, probably put me in the past. i can still get you wet, and i can still make you laugh.

01, CHAPTER ONE. OLD SPARKS.

ju speaks. who’s catching my word play for this chapter ooouuu.. i’m having so much fun writing them already and yes, maya’s gonna be a problem (i am just so predictable). pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual innuendos. kinda content too? idk this fic feeds you all.

present day, may, 2025.

los angeles still doesn’t feel real.

it’s like a whole new game out here, and i’ve been telling myself i can handle it. going first in the draft was wild—i’d dreamt of that moment since i was a kid, but hearing my name called, realizing it was real, felt different. la’s been something else too, this city that’s both too big and somehow feels small once you’re in it. i’ve got an apartment with this insane view too. floor to ceiling windows, sunlight flooding in every morning, palm trees out front like something off a postcard, but it doesn’t quite feel like home yet. i guess i thought maybe it would by now.

the team’s been great, though. down to the vets, the coaching staff, the media team… every single one of them welcomed me like i’ve always belonged here, and that makes things easier. cam threw this party tonight to really celebrate me being here, not just another pr event, but like… i don’t know, like they actually wanted to get to know me better. her backyard’s all polished up. the gates hold up some fairy lights, and the smell of barbecue just tops it all off.

maya’s been around since day one, practically the second i landed here. she’s one of our coordinators—smart, organized, and just enough older than me. stanford grad, of course, which she’s mentioned just enough times that i know she’s proud of it. there’s something good about her. yeah, she’s good. she knows how to handle herself, that’s for sure.

nailea hasn’t been around. i thought i’d see her by now, maybe even catch lurking during one of my practices or just… run into her somewhere. i mean, i’m sure she wouldn’t quit her job because of me. she’s been quiet, out of sight. which is fine. we haven’t really talked since before the draft—if that’s what you’d call it. it’s probably for the best. i don’t think she really wants to talk anyway.

i’m mid-sentence, talking to rae and rickea about their pregame rituals when maya steps up, her manicured hand resting casually on my slouched shoulder like it belongs there. she laughs at something rae says, smiling, and i feel myself ease into the conversation a little more.

rae’s all animated, talking about how she won’t step onto the court without this neon scrunchie she swears by. i’m leaning in to give her grief for it when i catch something in my periphery—someone, actually.

nailea’s here. at my welcome to the league party, maybe just coming by to say she showed up. i’m sure cam would kill her if she didn’t, they got pretty close last year. she looks like she just stepped out of my memories, if you think about that memory everyday.

i suck in, turning in attempt to not make myself seen. then, rae, three jell-o shots deep and definitely feeling it, pats my thigh in excitement and grins wide. “nai! c’mere!” she calls her over, completely missing how i’m trying not to look too invested.

i bite my lip, turning my head back over. i see how she hesitates, and then she looks at me. there’s no emotion, not a single ounce of longing or surprise. she looks at me like i’m nothing. it hurts more than i’d ever admit, but at the same time, i get it. i don’t exactly have the right to expect anything else.

her eyes shift to the others, weighing her options, probably playing out how the entire encounter would go in her head, but rae’s insistence doesn’t really give her much of a choice. she flashes us a grin, though i’m sure it isn’t for me, before she slowly waltzes over.

my eyes follow her like some unconscious habit until she’s almost in reach. as she comes closer, i find myself sizing her up, cataloging the way her hair falls just right, how her shirt hangs off her shoulders. then, out of nowhere, rickea shoves a finger into my ear from my left, and i flinch, turning to see her arched eyebrows silently demanding that i lock in. i don’t question it—i do. a little bit.

“nai handles a good chunk of our pr. she’s doing game day operations this year too,” rae cuts through. she was on some paid internship last year, testing out every role the sparks had to offer to see what she liked. she moved up. got the job.

i don’t know why it stings that she’s doing good without me.

“we know each—“ i begin.

“we went to high school to—“ nai says at the same time as me, and i look at her. rickea is stifling back a laugh beside me, and nai finishes her sentence.

“paige and i went to high school together.” she says, and i stay silent. high school? is that all i am now? a high school buddy?

rae’s grin grows wider, and she’s so excited about it i can barely make out her words. “she’s so great, and basically our backbone now,” she says, nudging nailea’s shoulder. “if it weren’t for her, i’d be late to half my interviews, right?” she laughs, a little too loud.

“guess you owe her then,” i say simply, forcing a grin. nai’s eyes flash to mine, but they’re off me just as quick. i let mine stay, squinting as maya begins to ramble.

“and she makes my job way easier.” maya’s fingers tap against my shoulder, almost like she’s staking a claim. “you ever need someone to keep you in line, paige, she’s your girl,” she adds, smiling at nai, though there’s some unfamiliarity to it. i can tell that they know each other, just not well enough i’m assuming.

nai’s eyes drop to maya’s hand, just a quick glance, but it’s enough to make me hyper-aware of the touch. her gaze returns to my face, a single eyebrow raised in that subtle way that’s more telling than words. like she’s already put it all together, and she doesn’t need to say a thing. instinctively, i shift, shrugging maya’s hand off with a casual roll of my shoulder, trying to mask it as if i’m just adjusting my posture.

nai doesn’t react, but her mouth twitches, a hint of a smirk, there and gone.

she lets out a soft laugh as i lean more against the table now, and i caught the way maya dropped her hand to her side. “i think paige has got it handled.”

i raise an eyebrow, leaning back just a little. “could always use the backup.”

nai’s eyes flash with a quick, knowing glint as she tilts her head, that slight smirk of hers appearing like she’s been waiting for an opening. “backup?” she repeats, nearly cheerful. i hated her tone. “thought you were more into… side options than backups, paige.”

it’s subtle, just low enough that only i catch the full weight of it, but it lands. i let out a low chuckle, stroking my chin and licking my lips. “aight,” i say, swallowing down any reaction, “i set myself up for that.”

maya gives me a sidelong look, sensing the tension but probably not quite getting it. nai laughs softly, a quick, dismissive sound that shouldn’t hit as hard as it does. it’s almost like she’s proud of getting that dig in. i cross my arms over my chest, and for some reason, i can’t contain my own smile.

rickea jumps in then, catching the vibe—or maybe just rescuing me. “anyway!” she says, her voice bright, easing into some story about some mascot switch-up from last year nai had to handle. i nod along, pretending i’m invested, though every part of me is still reeling from nai’s words, her laugh, the way she looked at me like she had me all figured out.

but maybe that’s what she wants me to think.

the backyard’s emptied out now, save for a few stray bottles and a couple of plastic jello cups scattered across the tables. i slide the glass door open and step inside, the house now filled with some low music from a record player. i was planning to find cam, to thank her for throwing this whole thing together. but when i come into the kitchen, it’s nai i see, her sleeves rolled up, forearms wet, scrubbing out a vase under the sink.

she’s focused, eyebrows furrowed just slightly, and i catch myself looking just a second too long before she looks up herself, catching me in the act. she pauses for a moment, her hands stilled under the water before she continues.

“didn’t take you for the clean up crew,” she mumbles, a little low that i almost don’t hear it over the running water.

i shrug, poking my bottom lip out. “figured i owed cam for putting this together,” i say, eyes still fixed on her. “nothin’ like a little gratitude, right?”

she lets out a little scoff, eyes still on the vase, fingers working over the smooth glass, rinsing it under the stream. “cam’s got enough gratitude coming her way,” she murmurs, and i can’t really read the implication. “she doesn’t need more from you.”

the words are light, almost casual, but they land with an edge that sticks. i take a slow step closer, letting the sliding door click shut behind me as i stand by it, almost like i’m stuck.

“well,” i start, beginning to stroll closer with my hands tucked in my pockets, “maybe i’m here because i wanted to check in. see how you’re doing.”

her eyes cut to me briefly, unimpressed. “i’m good, paige,” she says, letting the vase drip dry on a towel, and turning her attention to the next one. “never been better, actually.”

“great,” i say, not breaking eye contact, even as she keeps hers on the dishes, hands slowing just slightly. “then you won’t mind the company.”

she lifts an eyebrow, smirking, and i feel my pulse spike. “company?” she repeats, cocking her head as she pauses, hands resting on the edge of the sink, she says, “i think i’ve had enough of yours for a lifetime.”

i wiggle my eyebrows at her. “aw, don’t be like that, nai.” i can’t help the laugh that slips out, soft and a little cocky. “where’d you pick up all this lil’ attitude at?” i manage to get a little closer with each word until i’m rounding the island. she knows i’m there, close, and trying to ignore it probably.

she sighs, setting the vase down with a clink that sounds just a little too deliberate before picking up the last one. “life has a way of teaching you things. people, too.” she cuts her eyes my way, just barely, still trying to act like i’m not right in her space.

“oh, so now i’m a life lesson?” i murmur, stepping so that i’m almost right beside her, leaning on the counter. “but you’re still here. helpin’ clean up my party.”

she hesitates, and i can see her jaw tense just slightly. “i’m here for cam.”

“cam, huh?” i murmur, my eyes never leaving her. “and what about me?”

she laughs, a little breathless, and it’s the first real sign of her softening. i’ll take whatever i can get. “you’re somethin’ else. you know that?”

of course i know that. she knows i know that, she used to tell me it all the time. she reaches to cut the water off, flipping the vase over on the counter to dry. “good somethin’ or bad somethin’?” i ask, inching just a little closer as i tuck my bottom lip between my teeth.

“depends on the day,” she replies simply, and i can tell she’s trying to occupy herself as she rearranges the glasses.

i smile, facing her as i lean an arm on the counter. “that a challenge?” i lick my lips. “you know i love a good challenge.”

she scoffs lightly, rolling her eyes but staying put nonetheless. “don’t think you’re up for this one, bueckers.”

“oh, i’m up for it,” i counter, following her every move. “in fact, i thrive on it.” i’ve managed to get so close now that i can smell the scent of her shampoo mingling with the faint floral notes of soap. i can’t help but notice the newfound lightness to it too, and i realize she must’ve switched out some old with some new.

“mhm?” she asks, that smirk returning as she finally looks at me. i love when she hums like that, like i’ve got her at loss for words or something. her gaze flicks down to my lips for just a heartbeat, but i catch it.

“yeah,” i whisper, testing the waters. “and i’m pretty good at winning.”

i can see the shift in her expression—the way her breath hitches just a bit. “and what do you think you’re gonna win?” it’s like it took everything in her to say that as she exhales.

i lean back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes fully, but my focus has found her lips again. “you know what i want,” i say, and my voice is almost a whisper. “i think you know exactly what i want.”

there’s a faint smirk on her face as she grips the counter. “no.” she says, seemingly very aware of my intentions as she shakes her head, but doesn’t move an inch.

i let my tongue swarm my mouth hungrily. “just one.” i practically beg.

she leans in, leaving a soft, fast peck on my lips, and i’m afraid it isn’t enough for satisfaction. she’s back staring, and before i get the chance to say anything about it, it’s like she already fought the doubts in her mind as she throws herself into me, lips crashing.

my lips press against hers in that familiar, heady rush that i’d almost convinced myself i’d forgotten. she doesn’t pull away—instead, her hand slips up to my shoulder, the same one maya had her paws on just a couple hours ago, and fuck i can barely bring myself to think about that.

my hand finds her waist, gripping just enough to feel her press against me, her breaths shallow, matching mine. i want to rip her clothes off and take her here, no matter how uncordial that may be, but the universe seems to have other plans.

she tastes like everything i’ve had time to reflect on, every memory i know she tried to bury. i’m rough, hands squeezing her waist so tight like i’m scared she’ll slip away if i let go.

but just as i’m getting lost in her, we’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps. we break apart instantly, spinning toward the door just in time to see cam step in, her eyes widening as she stops short, eyebrows lifting as she takes in the scene.

my tongue darts to the corner of my mouth as i place my hands behind my back awkwardly, as if to keep them from wandering. nai is smoothing out her shirt (the most obvious thing you could do in a situation like this), that guarded look slipping right back into place as she clears her throat.

“paige was just leaving.”

[asteral-feileacan]

This. I also think it's very... odd to assume the place where you tell other people in a fandom what it's time for and what it's not time for. The reason stories exist is to enjoy them; people have always banded around their favourite characters. People should always do that. Tony stans have a right to freely stan Tony, just like fans of any other characters have a right to freely stan their favourite characters. The MCU fandom's problem is not that these stans exist, it's that no one is willing to listen to each other or treat other people's opinions with a least a little bit of respect. It goes beyond the character. If you suddenly come up with this idea that certain stans should just stop existing or interacting because of their opinion, you're eliminating open discussion and the potential for growth. Why the push for an echo chamber? If fans of things aren't allowed write badly written stories based on those things for person enjoyment, where does that leave us?

I can respect OP's pov; after all, when someone tells you that you hurt them, it is not up to you to say that you didn't. But if we want to make representation actually work, we can't just ignore one very important minority in favour of another very important minority. In order to be equal, you can't leave people behind. TFATWS is not The Falcon vs the Winter Soldier. It's The Falcon AND the Winter Soldier. It's not POC vs male abuse victim. We shouldn't have to stamp on Sam to bring up Bucky, or vice versa, because they exist independently of each other and deserve to be treated as equals and fairly. If they wanted the show to be about Sam, they should have just called it the Falcon. There was no need to put Bucky in this show.

Look, I've been here since I was very young. I was a Bucky fan long before I got into writing which is already close to a decade ago now. I grew up with Bucky. This is not to say that my opinion matters more than a new fan, or someone who likes a different character. It just means that I very personally love Bucky's character and I am invested in seeing him either come to an end that fulfils his character, or continue appearing in future MCU media to get to that point. Bucky won't be in the MCU forever, nor should he be. No character should really be, especially in a story that seems like it'll just be going on forever. And I simply think that it's sad that what Bucky's been through is dismissed by the current showrunners and misrepresented, and that the excuse is that Sam deserves more. Can Sam not stand on his own? Do they not have faith that Sam as a character is just as unique and meaningful as anyone else around him? When did it start becoming more about sending a political message over telling a story with respect to the character? I think that's in fact incredibly disrespectful to Sam's character, because he IS interesting, he IS a very strong character whose story SHOULD be followed and continued. But why can that not exist while Bucky also exists, without putting Bucky and his experience down? And why the push to now get rid of Bucky and his difficult trauma, not just by various fans, but also by the showrunners? I would rather watch a show entirely about Sam and his character development than have to have Bucky shoehorned in and misrepresented. Again, why wasn't TFATWS just about Sam since this opinion about Bucky is apparently so popular? I would rather have no Bucky content post-Endgame than this path they're going down.

The world has moved past the need for Bucky stans. They serve no other purpose than to write long stories explaining why their characters is the most miserable character, who has suffered the most, has had the most unfair treatment in the world and then forget and dismiss anyone around their character. Let’s not forget how entitled they act whenever there is a big announcement for Sam’s character, and immediately demand the same for Bucky. Even though there are 364 other days where they could do the complaing for their character, they conviently choose the day there is a big announcement for Sam’s character to complain and make demands they have no right to make, instead of praising Sam’s character just once in their life.

And honestly, I don’t even think they really like Bucky as a character because they absolutely refuse to see him as he really is or see the ways their character has grown.

Like Tony Stans before them, and unlike any other fans in the MCU, Bucky stans have the ability to always paint their character as the victim no matter what the circumstances, act as if their character is the only character to have ever experienced trauma in the history of characters. And they absolutely to refuse to see the flaws of their characters or any bad thing they do, They will blame all the bad things their character does on literally anybody BUT the character. They refuse to acknowledge that their character isn’t the only one who has feelings and who has known pain. We are slowly being freed from Tony stans, it’s time for the same thing to happen with the Buckies.

The last strike is that now they somehow came up with the idea that Bucky’s and Isaiah’s stories are somewhat similar. Excuse me but what???

What is surprising to me is that I never see this kind of behavior coming from Steve fans, Natasha fans, Thor fans and so on. Maybe I missed something.

It’s always the same fandoms that decide on one specific interpretation of a character and stick to it no matter what is happening on screen. They insist on Bucky being the one who needs to be taken care of, when Bucky in episode 5, and episode 6 was the one who was taking care of Sam ( getting the suit, helping with the boat, supporting with the flagsmashers). Do you even watch the shows your character’s involved in or do you just live in your headcanon? Do you even realize that you character is making progess and that unlike your headcanons Bucky seems to have more the profile of a nurturer once he starts healing? Bucky still has a long way to go, but have you seen him giving away that notebook? Starting to make amends the right way? Do you not see his progress?

They insist on Bucky being the one being hurt but turn a blind eye when Bucky is doing the hurting. And let’s not even talk about what happens when the other character interacting with Bucky is not White…

I have seen several of the stans complaining about how Sam was mean/unfair or still treated Bucky like he was still the Winter Soldier or like he was responsible for his crimes as the Winter Soldier, which is all untrue by the way. But then they never mention why Sam didn’t open welcome Bucky with open arms.

The first thing Bucky did when he met Sam was blame him “You shouldn’t have given up the shield”. No “hello”, no “good morning”, no “how have you been Sam?”, when we know that Sam has been checking up on Bucky, and texting him but Bucky didn’t reply. So Bucky ghosts Sam, and only comes back to blame him about giving up the shield. And even when Sam tells him he’s upset about the shield being given to Walker, Bucky keeps pestering Sam. And it keeps being that way for a major part of episode 2 and 3. 

And yet I have NEVER seen any Bucky stan talk about how Bucky treated Sam badly during that time.

Do you guys not remember the scene where Bucky apoligize? I just don’t understand, even Bucky understood that he f*cked up, and changed his behavior, why can’t his stans?

And talking about Bucky hurting people, I have NEVER seen a Bucky stan talking about how awful what he did to Yori was. He befriended a man knowing full well he had killed his son? What kind of mindgame was he playing.

And please don’t get me started on how they tried to make Ayo the “bad guy”, when Bucky had just broke out Zemo out of prison, the guy who killed King T’Chaka, without thinking about the consequences and the impact on his Wakandan friends.

Bucky stans don’t even acknowledge the feelings of other characters than their own. They did it with Endgame Steve with blablabla how unfair he was to abandon Bucky, even though Bucky knew Steve was leaving. And they are now doing it from Sam.

I really like Loki as a character but I’m sometimes annoyed at some stans that want to insist that he isn’t a villain, never did anything wrong and even go to the lengths to paint him as a victim when he killed actual people. But usually Loki stans don’t reach the levels of Buckies when it comes to putting on blinders whenever they are thinking about their characters. Most of them acknowledge Loki’s flaws and his wrongdoings and like him anyway. As they should.

Bucky stans need to step aside and leave Bucky’s character to people who really know how to appreciate him, who (unlike them) want his character to heal and be happy and see him as he is, flaws, wrongdoings, mistakes and most importanly who also see his growth. 

Most importantly, leave Bucky’s character to people who know how to tag properly and won’t tag a post that doesn’t even have Sam in it with “Sam Wilson” just to get more traction for their post.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your legs feel empty, like there’s no blood flowing beneath your waist. You walk beside Rogers, feeling as if you might fall on your face at any time. That’s probably not a good idea seeing as you’ve already knocked out twice within the last hour or two. 

He stops and steps ahead of you. He points to a door before he pushes it open, “in here.” 

You enter as he waits. For a moment, you worry it could be a sinister trick. That he’ll slam the door and lock you in. But why would he do that? Well, why would he beat a man in the middle of the street? 

Thinking of it again, you feel nauseous. 

You look around the room. There’s a desk with folders stacked on it. The chair looks like it was manufactured during your great grandfather’s war and the rug can’t be much newer. The curtains are damask and the walls are real hardwood. 

“It’s... nice,” you say, “vintage. Looks like the floor’s been refinished.” 

“You’re not here to discuss the decor,” he retorts. 

“Of course,” you agree as you twiddle your fingers. “What exactly am I here for, er, sir?” 

“You’re an accountant.” He states. 

“I am.” 

He sighs and crosses to the desk. You cautiously follow. You could tip over all over again. 

“Sir, do you mind if I sit?” You ask. 

He just waves a hand toward the chair. You thank him and gratefully claim the seat. Who knew fainting was so exhausting? 

“Man named Warren. I need you to tally it all up. Tell me what you find.” He explains.  

“Alright, so I’m balancing his ledger,” you nod. 

“Sure,” Rogers sniffs and tucks his hands into his pockets. He backs up and paces across the end of the rug. “You need some water? You gonna check out again?” 

“Oh, I have some,” you put your briefcase on the desk and pull out your water bottle. “Thank you. That’s super kind. I can, uh, start on all this.” 

He turns back to you, “fine.” 

You smile as best you can as his hand runs up his lapel and draws your attention. Again, his knuckles fill you with queasiness. The bruises are the cherry on top of this whole messed up situation. 

He pulls his hand back and looks at it. You realise he caught you staring. You clear your throat. 

“Looks pretty bad,” he remarks. 

“Um, yeah. Pretty bad,” you agree softly. “Look like they’re swelling. Could probably use some ice.” 

He examines his hand further and clicks his tongue, “probably.” He drops his arm. “Well, get to work. Don’t got time to waste.” 

“Got it,” you assure him and reach for a folder. 

He goes and you glance up right as he disappears through the door. He might be gone but your anxiety lingers. These are dangerous men, this is a dangerous place. 

While you wouldn’t want an old lady like Geraldine caught up in all of this, why did it have to be you? It’s just like Mr. Brenner to be tangled up with criminals. And now you’re looking through promissory letters and gum wrappers with scribbles on them. This isn’t going to be easy, especially without a computer. 

Rogers returns. He sits in the leather armchair near the window. He holds a bundle wrapped in a cloth against his hand. It must be ice. 

You pull out a receipt. Half of it is illegible beneath the crimson stain. Little droplets trail over the numbers you can kind of make out. Oh. 

“Is that blood?” You ask out loud, then feel yourself plunging forward. 

Your head hits the desk. You’re a bit foggy but still awake. You gurgle and push yourself up. You fall stiffly back against the chair and it lurches with your weight. 

Rogers appears across the desk from you. You stare at him as you grip the armrest and blow out between your lips. He squints as he comes around to your side. 

“Hey, sweetheart, stay with me,” he grabs your chin and you whimper. “Eh, don’t--” 

He taps your cheek with his fingers. It’s a gentle gesture. His hand is cold from the ice. 

“I’m good,” your murmur. “I just... I’m not a violent person.” You carefully touch his wrist and he lets you go. “Not that I’m saying anything about you. Or what happened earlier. I’m just... look at me, right? Just an accountant.” 

He nods.  

“You think I overreacted,” he intones. 

“I didn’t say... it’s none of my business, right?” You move aside the bloody receipt and wheel closer to the desk. “Numbers are my business.” 

He hums, “sure.” 

You concentrate, or pretend to, on the folder before you. There’s a lot to sort out, and you mean, more than the clutter. Your mind is racing and you can’t quite decipher anything you’re reading with the fear coursing through you. 

“I’ll be back,” he says abruptly as he backs away. “Don't leave this room.” 

You don’t need him to give the command. You wouldn’t dare wander around this place on your own. You nod, “I won’t, sir.” 

He spins on his heel and struts across the office. You only look up as he gets to the door. He leaves and you lean back in the chair. You can’t let your panic take over. The quicker you get through this, the quicker you can get out of here, and hopefully, never ever come back. 

You set yourself straight, fixing your posture, and set to your mission. You might not have the most experience, but you’re determined and you do know what you’re doing. All those places that never replied or sent you those template rejections, they have no idea. 

You hunker down, filling the margins in the ledger, row by row. You are enthralled the more you do. It’s like a story unfolding before you. Dates, amounts, locations. Huh, well, this might be some bad news. You really don’t want to be the one to deliver it. 

Don’t be too eager. That’s only the first folder. You scratch down another number and flinch as something lands on the desk. 

You sit up and stare at the paper bag. Rogers watches you across the desk. Your brows twitch in confusion. He huffs and opens the top of the bag. 

“Figured you might not pass out if you eat something,” he takes out a wrapped bagel and holds it out. “Cream cheese, sesame seed.” 

“Oh, yum, I mean, thanks,” you accept it. “That’s really... considerate.” 

“I can be,” his eyes narrow. 

“Of course, I wasn’t saying... anything. Just thank you,” you slowly unwrap the bagel. 

He takes out his own and sits in the armchair. You peel back the paper and take a quarter of the bagel. You bite into it, careful not to get any crumbs on the desk. 

It might not be the best day, very close to the worst, but you can’t complain for a free meal. 

[dorothylarouge]

US Presidents as Dril Tweets

George Washington: another day volunteering at the betsy ross museum. everyone keeps asking me if they can fuck the flag. buddy, they wont even let me fuck it

John Adams: "ah boo hoo hoo i want to post Foul comments to content leaders" Fat Chance, Dimwit. I will annihilate you under bulwark of the Law and God.

Thomas Jefferson: Q: If your post was proven by a counsil of wise men to be racist, or bullshit, would you bar it from the record? A: I do not delete my posts

James Madison: (sniffing a crumpled up one dollar bill i found on the floor of a dog kennel) ah.. thats greenbacks baby

James Monroe: for decades i have traversed the unforgiving mountains and rivers of south america, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled "ass downloader"

John Quincy Adams: "This Whole Thing Smacks Of Gender," i holler as i overturn my uncle's barbeque grill and turn the 4th of July into the 4th of Shit

Andrew Jackson: handing Faves over to my enemies is FRAUD !! base, contemptible FRAUD!

Martin Van Buren: Food $200

Data $150

Rent $800

Candles $3,600

Utility $150

someone who is good at the economy please help me budget this. my family is dying

William Henry Harrison: (spends all of 7 seconds skimming some blog posts) yep. just as i knew all along. having pnuamonia is good

John Tyler: fuck "jokes". everything i tweet is real. raw insight without the horse shit. no, i will NOT follow trolls. twitter dot com. i live for this

James K. Polk: thhere is no such thing as charisma, and art is fake. the only metrics by which we must determine the worth of a man are Strength and Wisdom

Zachary Taylor: the doctor reveals my blood pressure is 420 over 69. i hoot & holler outta the building while a bunch of losers tell me that im dying

Millard Fillmore: trying to heal..... please donate to my go fund me... $10 will make me less racist... $100 will make me extremely less racist...thank you...

Franklin Pierce: blocked. blocked. blocked. youre all blocked. none of you are free of sin

James Buchanan: #NationalGirlfriendDay please cherish your gal's.. in honor of us, the single Boys who must sacrifice all companionship to #CarryTheBrand...

Abraham Lincoln: unloading an entire belt of ammo at me with a minigun or some such device will now get you "Blocked"

Andrew Johnson: who the fuck is scraeming "LOG OFF" at my house. show yourself, coward. i will never log off

Ulysses S. Grant: i regret being tasked the emotional burden of maintaining the final bastion of morality and Nice manners in this endless ocean of human SHIT

Rutherford B. Hayes: using the toilet when i hear Our national anthem start to play. i do what i must. i stand tall in complete agony; as shit runs down my leg,

James A. Garfield: too much truth in such little time. feeling the heat cominh down to silence me... signing off........ for now

Chester A. Arthur: i WILL wise the fuck up. i WILL super charge my content for 2017. i WILL get blue check mark

Grover Cleveland: the way i see it, people who come on here and submit content that is not up to par, could possibly be considered the "Villains" of this site

Benjamin Harrison: i help every body, im not racist, i keep myself nice, and when i ask for a single re-tweet in return i am told to fuck off, fuck myself, etc

William McKinley: boy oh boy do i love purchasing large amounnts of Fool's Gold. wait a minute... fools gold fucking sucks. this stuff is no good..!! Fuck !!!

Theodore Roosevelt: IF THE ZOO BANS ME FOR HOLLERING AT THE ANIMALS I WILL FACE GOD AND WALK BACKWARDS INTO HELL

William H. Taft: ah.. the perfect Souffle! cant wait to dig in to t(*EVERY PIPE IN MY HOUSE EXPLODES AT THE SAME TIME, COVERING ME IN SHIT AND BOILING WATER*

Woodrow Wilson: the conflicted supersoldier stares over the horizon as he smokes a cigarette. "war is the most fucked up thing ever." he takes a sip of beer

Warren G. Harding: somebody please Bribe me

Calvin Coolidge: aggressively joyless oaf hhere. painfully obnoxious respect demander checkign in. extremely dim witted frowning man looking for pals

Herbert Hoover: it is really quite astonishing that I have yet to win The Lottery, given how good I am at selecting six numbers and saying them out loud

Franklin D. Roosevelt: ive never heard of this “europe” but it sounds like a big bunch of shit to me

Harry Truman: everybody wants to be the guy to write the tweet that solves racism once and for all because it would look good as hell on a resume

Dwight D. Eisenhower: my "F*&k It!! Let's Go Golfin" t-shirt maintains a tenacious stranglehold on my life. after 1,125 days of Golf my body is twisted, deformed

John F. Kennedy: when you do sutuff like... shoot my jaw clean off of my face with a sniper rifle, it mostly reflects poorly on your self

Lyndon B. Johnson: incredibly handsome , charismatic famous boy credited with ending income inequality after saying that slumlords should be called "dumblords"

Richard Nixon: i attribute the complete failure of my brand to the actions of detractors, oor my “trolls”, as it were, as well as my own constant fuckups

Gerald Ford: shutting computer down until the shitty moods & attitudes can fuck off., if you need me ill be on my other computer, sititng 60° to my right

Jimmy Carter: i warnned you all that bad things would happen if you kept letting your wives wear jeans. AND NOW LOOK! the damn gas prices are up again

Ronald Reagan: spend a lot of time thinking about how sometimes even war criminals can be heroes sometimes... Dont like it? Click the unfollow buttobn

George H.W. Bush: just thought off an idea i believe to be bad ass. lets find the address of the leader of isis, and mail him/ her pieces of our SHIT

Bill Clinton: were at the point now, that when i offer to impregnate my girl followers, people assume my motives are sexual. disgusting, grow the fuck up,

George W. Bush: friday night gathering up together a big pile of things i like to respect (flags, crucifixes ,etc) and just roll around in it ,give kisses,

Barack Obama: my IQ has increased 10 points ever since i stopped tollerating people mucking about, on the time line

Donald Trump: THERAPIST: your problem is, that youre perfect, and everyone is jealous of your good posts, and that makes you rightfully upset.

ME: I agree

Joe Biden: I will shut the fuck up , IF , it will restore the Harmony. I will get on my knees like a dog and make that sacrifice, for the sake of Calm

[chuellas]

Angel | He didn’t plan on having a traditional future with a marriage and a family but one surprise trip to your work has him second, maybe even triple, guessing himself.

⤷ Ft. Nakahara Chuuya

Warnings | Fem!Reader, mentions of having children/pregnancy, slight identity crisis on Chuuya’s part, WC: 1.3k

A/N | Hello Tumblr people!! I am so excited to finally get to posting this fic. Hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful day <3

The day started out just like any other day for Chuuya, waking up next to you still soundly asleep, making the two of you coffee and breakfast then sending you a text to wake up to as he left for work. He’s been lucky today, only having a short stack of paperwork to finish before heading out to the field. After checking in with a few of his subordinates, Chuuya decides to call it a day early. 

An exceptionally ordinary day for the Port Mafia executive. 

The ginger checks his watch and a grin graces his features when he realizes you should be getting out of work in about 20 minutes. He can easily make it to the clinic you work at before you get off. Usually he’ll text you that he’s coming to pick you up, but he figures today he’ll surprise you and what’s a surprise without a bouquet of your favorite flowers from one of your favorite local florists?

Chuuya makes it to your work in 15 minutes. With 5 minutes to spare, he parks his car. The executive strips himself of his jackets, trying to make himself present as if he has a more casual job then he does and walks into the clinic. 

This clinic isn’t somewhere Chuuya would usually frequent, each time he visits you he feels a bit awkward entering the building. You work as a pediatric nurse, so you see children all day every day. You’ve expressed how difficult it can be watching sick children coming in all day but you still love getting to help them and their parents, even if it’s just for a small visit. 

The executive makes it about 5 feet into the office building when he’s stopped in his tracks at the sight of you with a child, a little boy — he can’t be much older than 4, maybe 5, years old. You’re sat on the floor with him, playing some sort of made up game and something in the ginger’s chest stirs. 

Your smile is wider than usual, a sparkle in your eye as the little boy climbs into your lap, handing you a book with his small and chubby outstretched arms. You take the invasion of your personal space in stride as a soft laugh falls from your lips and you start reading to the young child. You’re so enthralled with the boy that you don’t even notice your boyfriend standing there, starstruck. 

The scene laid out in Chuuya makes his heart yearn. In his line of work having children is risky. Being with you alone is dangerous, if it weren’t for you being an ability user yourself, Chuuya never would have entertained a relationship with a civilian. But with a child… he’s not so arrogant that he would guarantee their safety when, realistically, he knows that’s not something he can assure. 

Logically, his brain is telling him that the two of you could never become parents. But that little voice in his head that’s gotten increasingly louder since he met you is practically screaming at him. The image of a small bundle of joy with your hair and his eyes flashes across his mind. Then there’s the thought of you pregnant with his child and that short circuits something inside of his brain. He's no longer thinking logically. 

Chuuya never thought he wanted that. He was okay - content even - with it only being the two of you for the rest of your lives. But now? seeing you with a child like this, how good you are with him, he’s no longer sure. 

You’ve never brought up the idea of marriage, let alone children. Chuuya just assumed you understood that’s just something he wouldn’t be able to give you. Or maybe even that you didn’t want that kind of life. But the mafia executive is plagued by images of you in an extravagant white dress, a swollen stomach and a child that’s the perfect blend of your genes with Chuuya’s. 

Oh.

The ginger is too far gone.

It’s not until your coworker, the receptionist, is greeting Chuuya that you notice him. Not a moment too soon either, Chuuya was spiraling in a direction he doesn't think he would recover from. The woman’s voice brings him back to reality as you look up from the picture book that has a cat on display. Your eyes are misty but you smile brightly at your boyfriend. 

You’re so breathtakingly gorgeous that Chuuya literally feels winded, like your smile stole his ability to breathe. 

You tilt your head curiously. “Couldn’t wait till I got off to see me?”

“Well, I was planning on it, but looks like you’ve been preoccupied.” The ginger squats down next to you and the little boy in your arms stirs, turning to eye the ginger suspiciously.

Your attention is brought back to the small child for a split second before your head is turning to look behind Chuuya as the clinic door loudly clicks open. You smile warmly and maneuver yourself up, somehow keeping the boy in your arms. A woman with the same green eyes as the boy walks in with a baby swaddled securely to her chest. 

You gently let the boy down and watch as he runs up to who Chuuya can only assume is his mother. The resemblance, even at such a young age, is uncanny. Once again Chuuya’s thoughts are brought back to what a child with you would look like. What features would he or she get? Hopefully they would get all of your personality and temperament. 

The ginger looks over to you as a way to subtly observe your features but what he sees makes his stomach sink and face drop. The look in your eyes is longing and Chuuya knows. You want children of your own. That’s not the look of someone who never wants children. 

You put on a tight smile as the woman speaks. “Thank you so much for watching him. say thank you to the nice nurse, natsu.”

The boy waves at you with his small and chubby hand. In a timid and quiet voice the boy thanks you and then waves as his mother guides him out of the clinic. You both watch the trio until the door shuts. 

“Oh my god- I didn’t realize my shift was over with already! Are you here to pick me up? I just need to finish entering something and then I'll be out, okay-?” You blush, catching yourself before you call Chuuya your usual term of endearment while still in a professional setting. “U-uhm… fifteen minutes max. I'll be out before you know it.”

The ginger’s face softens and he smiles at you lovingly. “You got it, Doll. Y’know where to find me.”

You smile back at him and nod. As you go to turn around, Chuuya grabs hold of your hand and stops you so he can bring it up to his mouth and place a tender kiss atop your knuckles. Your breath hitches and your shoulders tense for a moment. Your cheeks heat up and you quickly look around to find your coworker cooing at his display of affection. 

You let out a squeak and pull your hand back when the executive looks up to you. 

“Chuuya- I- You-” You let out a huff and frown at him, grabbing him and spinning him around then pushing his back. “Just- Go, I’ll meet you out there.”

Chuuya watches you with an amused smirk as you turn and scan your keycard to unlock the door. He waits until it’s shut to wave at the receptionist before heading back to the parking lot. 

His mind still lingers on what the future could truly hold for the two of you. He's seen plenty of his colleagues build happy lives outside of the mafia. Maybe it’s wishful thinking but chuuya’s starting to think maybe he could too. The two of you have made it this far, why not push the limits? 

The executive’s hand twitches and phone burns in his pocket. He's made the decision, there’s something he has to do. He waits to get into his car, but the moment he does, Chuuya is unlocking his phone and searching up engagement ring cuts and styles.

[ashtavula]

Royalty AU Pt 5: A Meeting With Idia

Housewardens x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 2910

Start Here

“Your Highness, you have a visitor…”

Your brow furrows, and you get up to follow Trein. “Who is it? It’s a bit late for a social call.”

“You’ll see in a few moments.”

Trein pushes open the door leading to a parlor room, and he steps aside to let you enter. “Your Highness, please allow me to present the automaton Ortho. He’s here to deliver a message to you on behalf of the Royal Artificer, Idia Shroud.”

Your breath hitches as you lay eyes on Ortho. The bright blue flames of his hair flicker as he turns to look at you, and you can see the delicate ball joints along his limbs shift. He almost looks like a doll made of metal and fire. Ortho is both fascinating and strange to you.

His yellow eyes fix themselves on you, and he bows. Despite the metal mouthguard that obscures the lower half of his face, you can clearly hear his voice. “Greetings, Your Highness! I am Ortho Shroud. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

You nod, returning his greeting. Ortho shifts, and he floats closer to you. “I was told you had a message from the Royal Artificer?”

“Correct. Initiating playback.” 

You hear another voice leave Ortho’s mouth. The voice is masculine, but soft and uncertain. “Hi, uh, I’m Idia. No, wait,” you hear him clear his throat, and sigh. “Hello, I’m Idia Shroud, Royal Artificer. I was recently told that I’m apparently supposed to be one of your suitors. Well, I can tell you right now, you don’t want to pick me. Go play with the other normies that actually want to marry you. Because I don’t!”

You hear Ortho’s voice again. “Big Brother, it’s rude to turn them down when you haven’t even met them!”

“But…I don’t want to meet them,” Idia’s voice whines. “They’re probably going to think I’m just some weirdo! And then they’ll laugh at me, and…it’s just going to suck! Wait, are you still recording? Ortho, wait! Don’t play this part to them! Ortho!”

The voices cut off, and Ortho tilts his head. His cheeks lift, and you realize he’s smiling. “Please disregard the contents of the message. Big Brother is just shy. But I’m sure he’ll change his mind once he meets you! So, please come to Ignihyde Academy tomorrow afternoon.”

You stare at Ortho, perplexed. Idia doesn’t seem to want you at all, but Ortho is insisting that you meet him anyway. “I don’t want to strain the royal family’s relationship with the Shrouds.” If you push Idia too far, then he might leave your kingdom. He and his family are part of the reason your kingdom is so prosperous. Their inventions have greatly increased the average citizen’s quality of life. It’s important for Idia to stay.

Ortho shakes his head. “He won’t get mad just because you come to visit. Like I said, Big Brother is just shy! Just give him a chance, please. He’s the smartest person I know, and he’s funny! He’s an amazing big brother, and meeting you face to face would be good for him.”

You sigh. It seems like Ortho won’t be dissuaded. “Is Idia reluctant to meet me because of his ‘curse’?” You’ve heard several people claim that the Shroud family is cursed. Both your parents and Azul had warned you that Idia’s appearance isn’t normal.

Ortho heaves a sigh. “Well, yeah, that’s part of it. I told him not to worry about that though, because your family already knows about it, and they clearly don’t care because he’s still a candidate.” Ortho shakes his head. “Just come see him tomorrow. Please? I promise that Big Brother is worth it!”

Well, it couldn’t hurt to at least see the man. Besides, you’re curious about this curse that everyone keeps telling you about. “Alright. I’ll go see Idia tomorrow. But-”

Ortho’s face lights up, and he cheers. “Yes! I’ll go tell him right now!”

Before you can say anything else, Ortho heads over to the other side of the room. He flings the window open, and he zooms out. You gasp, and rush over just in time to see Ortho fly over the castle walls, and disappear into the distance. 

You sigh, and you lean against the windowsill, silently thinking about what’s in store for you tomorrow.

xxx

Your shoes click against the paving stones as you enter the wrought iron gates of Ignihyde Academy. Students bustle back and forth, though they steer clear of you. You pay them no mind as you head towards the massive tower that makes up part of the academy. As you turn to head down the path, you see Ortho head towards you. The automaton gives you a friendly wave.

“Hello again, Your Highness! I’m happy to see you!”

“It’s a pleasure to see you too, Ortho. Is Idia ready for me?”

“He says he’s not. He’s lying.”

Ortho stays by your side as you walk down the smooth path to the tower. Along the way, Ortho points out a few of the different buildings. “That’s the alchemy lab, and the potion lab is right next door. And then there’s the greenhouse over there.”

You hum in acknowledgement. “Ignihyde Academy teaches both magic and science, right?”

“That’s right. It’s a shame you never studied here. Then you could have met Big Brother sooner.” Ortho goes ahead of you to open the door. You steel yourself, and you walk inside.

The interior of the tower is sleek, and you’re surprised to see that the walls and floor appear to be made of some kind of metal. Sconces emit blue light, making the place look rather eerie. Ortho guides you to an elevator, but he doesn’t join you inside. Instead, he waves at you. “Have fun with Big Brother today!”

“Wait, Ortho-” 

The doors to the elevator slide shut, leaving you alone. The control panel lights up, and it automatically selects a floor. You watch the numbers change as you ascend, and you bite your lip. 

When the elevator doors open, you hesitantly step out. “Hello? Idia Shroud?” You hear a strange, shrill noise, and a clatter. You advance down the hall. “Where are you?”

You spot an open door, and you peer inside. You let out a silent gasp at what you see inside. There’s a man with long blue flames trailing out of his head standing inside. He’s muttering to himself as he tries to clean up a spilled vase of flowers. His long fingers pick up the fallen blooms, and he haphazardly sets them back in the vase.

When he sees you standing there, he squeaks, and pulls his arms to his chest. The motion knocks the vase over again. The man gasps, and his gaze flits nervously between you and the flowers, clearly torn as to whether he should greet you or pick up the flowers again. You make the decision for him.

You bow your head for a brief moment. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Royal Artificer Idia Shroud.” You move over to the table, and you gently set the vase upright again.

Idia gulps, and his shaky hands join yours in picking up the flowers. “Y-Yeah…Um, I’m glad to see you too, I guess. And just Idia is fine,” he mutters.

You both reach for the same stem, and your hand brushes against his. Idia audibly gasps, and he wrenches his hand away. The tips of his hair shift from blue to pink, and he turns his face away from you. “Sorry,” you murmur.

“No, no, it’s fine! It’s my fault anyway…” Idia nervously tugs on his sleeves, and he tries to compose himself before he turns to face you again. “I, uh, I have some games set up, if you’d like to play.”

You give him what you hope is a reassuring smile. “That sounds like fun. What sort of games do you have planned?”

Idia moves to several other tables in the room. Each table has a different board game set up on its surface. “Well, these ones are all set up and ready to go. But I have more, if you don’t like these.” His eyes widen slightly. “Or, do you even like to play games at all? Because I could, um…we could-”

“Idia.” Your voice is firm, cutting through his anxious prattling. “I would enjoy playing games with you.”

Idia nods, and gestures to the tables. “Right. Okay. Take your pick.”

You peruse the games that he’s laid out. There’s quite a variety for you to choose from. Games of luck and skill, and even a table laid out for playing assorted card games. You sit down at a table, and Idia joins you on the opposite side. 

You start to play. You move one of your game pieces across the board. “You must really enjoy playing games, Idia.”

Idia draws a card, and moves his piece. “Yeah. Ortho and I really like playing together. We’ve been playing ever since he was old enough to understand the rules.” His lips curve into a tiny, fond smile.

“What do you mean ‘old enough’? Ortho is an automaton. He doesn’t age like a person.” You move your piece.

Idia jumps slightly, and he clears his throat. He realizes that he might have said too much. “Ah, um, what I mean is…” Idia heaves a sigh. “Ortho…it’s complicated. Let’s just leave it at that.” He makes his move, and he undoes some of your progress. “Sorry,” he murmurs.

“Hm. Rather, I think I should be the one apologizing.” You knock one of Idia’s pieces back several spaces. “Sorry, Idia,” you say, cheekily grinning at him.

Idia chuckles, and the two of you keep playing. Time flies by, and you find yourself actually enjoying the time you’re spending with this strange man. His appearance isn’t as horrendous as you’d feared. Beyond the fiery hair and his sharp teeth, he didn’t look too terribly different from anybody else. And as he keeps playing with you, his anxiety lessens, letting more of his personality shine through. Idia is surprisingly snarky, and he’s very casual with you.

You’re both interrupted by Ortho. The automaton looks a bit upset. “Big Brother, Father is here.”

“Father will have to wait. I’m busy right now.”

Ortho shakes his head. “No, Father insists that it’s important. You need to come immediately.”

Idia groans, and he looks at you. “Sorry, but we’ll have to take a break. Be right back.” With that said, Idia stands up, and strides out of the room. You expect Ortho to follow him, but he stays with you.

Ortho floats over to the table, analyzing the half finished game. You see an opportunity to ask him the question that’s been stuck in the back of your mind since you started playing with Idia. “Ortho, Idia says that the two of you have been playing games since you were ‘old enough to understand the rules.’ What did he mean by that?”

Ortho turns his gaze towards you, and he tilts his head. “Are you not aware of the circumstances that led to my creation?” When you shake your head, Ortho looks surprised. 

“Please tell me.”

Ortho thinks about it for a few moments, and he nods. “If you’re going to marry Big Brother, then you should know.”

Ortho begins to tell you a story. He was originally a human being, just like Idia. The two of them were several years apart in age, but they both adored each other. They spent all of their time inside of a tower. It was different from the one they live in now, and it was far from the capitol. They had so many things to play with, but they weren’t allowed to go outside. As Ortho grew older, he started wanting to see the world outside of their tower. He and Idia had always read about the wonderful world outside, and Ortho wanted to experience it for himself.

“I told Big Brother that I wanted to explore the whole world with him. I wanted us to go on adventures together, like the ones we’d read about in our books.”

Idia had been reluctant, but he eventually agreed to sneak out with Ortho late one evening. For the first time, they slipped away from the impenetrable walls of their home. 

“And it was wonderful. I could feel the grass beneath my feet, and the breeze on my face. There were crickets chirping, and I saw fireflies for the first time.”

It had also been Idia’s first time outside the tower. The two of them wandered away from their home, and they followed a path in the forest. Soon, they came across a village. 

“I was so excited to meet other people for the first time, but…they weren’t happy to see us.”

The villagers had been afraid of the two boys. They didn’t care that Ortho and Idia were just kids. All they saw was a pair of monsters. The two of them were attacked, and chased away.

“I don’t know how, but Big Brother and I got separated. The villagers were still chasing me. They were throwing rocks, and yelling. It was scary. I kept crying for Big Brother, but I couldn’t find him…”

Ortho doesn’t really remember much of what happened after that. He got hit with a rock, and he fell.

“It’s hard to remember. But it hurt. And then the villagers were standing over me. And then everything hurt.”

Ortho shakes his head. “That’s all I remember. Then, Big Brother built this body for me. I’m not the same as I was before, but I am still Ortho.” He smiles at you. “Big Brother really is the best. I’m still around because of him. And now, I can go outside whenever I want!”

You’re left reeling, and you take a shaky breath. Ortho died that night, and then, somehow, his consciousness was transferred over into the body of an automaton. Despite the tragedy of it all, Ortho didn’t seem worse for wear. But maybe that’s because his memories are a bit fuzzy. 

It also explains why Idia is so reclusive. You think that you’d do the same thing if that had happened to you.

Idia returns, and you try to think about other things. “What’s going on, Idia?”

He frowns slightly, and he shakes his head. “Ah, it’s nothing. We should finish our game.” Idia sits down again, and Ortho leaves.

It’s a bit difficult to focus on the game when your mind keeps wandering back to what you just learned. Ortho’s words keep echoing in your head. “...it hurt…And then everything hurt.” The idea of anyone harming a sweet, innocent child like Ortho made you want to cry. You can’t imagine what that must have been like for Idia. He, too, must have been chased and hurt. The only difference was that Idia had survived, and Ortho had not.

You move your last piece. “I win,” you murmur. 

Idia stares at the board for a moment, a bit surprised. “Oh, congrats. Want to play something else now?”

You nod. As you move to a different table, you pause. “Actually, can Ortho join us too?” 

“Uh…yeah, he can. Hang on.”

Idia calls for Ortho. The automaton is more than willing to play games with the two of you, and he happily joins in. Idia relaxes even more with his little brother around. He even laughs a few times. Seeing the two of them be happy, despite everything, banishes the sadness that still lingers in your heart.

As the afternoon starts to fade into evening, you take your leave. Idia and Ortho both escort you back to the front door. You bid your goodbyes, and you walk out of the door. You’re several paces away when Idia calls out to you.

“W-Wait!” Idia steps outside. He’s wearing a cloak, and he’s tugged the hood up. His shoulders are hunched, and his eyes dart around like he’s expecting someone to attack him for being outside. “Let me take you to the front gate.”

“You don’t have to.”

“...I want to.”

Idia falls into step with you. He sticks close to your side, a silent companion as you walk down the stone path. When you reach the front gates, you turn to face him.

“Today was-”

“Thank you for-”

You and Idia pause, and you giggle. “You first.”

“Nope, you first,” Idia challenges.

“Fine. Today was great, and I’d like to do it again sometime.”

Idia nods. “Thank you for coming to see me. I admit, I didn’t really want to see you at first. I…I was scared, for a lot of reasons. But I had fun today. Ortho definitely had fun. I can already hear him asking me when you’re coming back.” He pauses for a few moments. “Good luck with your search.”

“Thank you, Idia. Tell Ortho that he’s always welcome at the castle.” You smile at him, and you get into your carriage. “You’re always welcome to come see me, too.”

The tips of Idia’s hair turn pink again, and he tries to stammer out a reply. You chuckle, and you shut the door. You can see him standing there dumbfounded as the carriage pulls away from the academy, and you can’t stop yourself from laughing as you see Ortho pop out of the bushes, and give Idia two thumbs up.

[tarithenurse]

Bubbly

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing/starring: Geto Suguru x fem!reader Word count: 1885. Content: Slight jealousy, smut, drinking, slightly drunk smut. A/N: I thought he deserved some attention? I don’t know. Don’t sue me.

Bubbly

You’re drunk. Not overly so but the sweet, bubbly wine has gone to your head, making you dizzy and bold. Your body sways to the music, hips tilting first this way and that and you know that many eyes are upon you and for once you don’t mind even one bit. Let them watch! You’re young and gorgeous. You grin to yourself, a grin that turns devilish when someone from behind grabs your hips with their large hands and you know instinctively who it is.

“People are staring,” Suguru’s smooth voice curls into your ear.

You lean back, reach for his neck and tangle your fingers in his long, silken hair. “So? I don’t mind.”

Dipping his head to nibble beneath your ear, he growls softly. “I do.”

Somehow, you manage to turn in his arms although you do have to take a moment to position his hands on your ass where you want them.

“Jealous?” You look up at him.

He doesn’t have the same amused smile on his lips as you do and it causes your thrill to falter.

“Jealous is not the right word,” Suguru explains, “that would mean they have something I don’t while it’s quite the other way around.” Finally the grin wins as he scoops you up in his arms. “I’ve got you. You’re mine. Just mine. I don’t like them ogling you that way.”

Resolutely, he slings you over a shoulder and carries you off. You aren’t sure where to – you don’t know the place. In fact you didn’t even know that he had a claim to you because as far as you’ve been concerned you were only friends who teased each other but hey: who are you to complain.

Landing on something soft with and oof, you’re slow at reorienting yourself because the place is spinning gently, sort of lulling you until you feel whatever you’re on jostle. It must be a bed, you decide, sitting up to see Suguru who has busied himself with getting the shoes off you.

“Are you going to continue after that?” you ask almost innocently, causing his hands to still for a moment.

“I think...you’re too drunk to know what you’re asking...”

“Am not,” you protest. Something inside you is telling you to shut up, but now you’ve started and you have to know: “Don’t you like me, Sugu?”

He turns to face you, something untraceable in his eyes as he takes you in. “I like you,” he admits carefully.

“Good,” you smile, a hand reaching to play with a lose strand of his hair, “’cause I like you too.”

“Yeah...we’re friends,” he points out.

You roll your eyes. “Friends don’t get jealous when other people stare at their friend. They are proud and become wingmen or whatever. You like me diffe-”

He’s pushed you back into the pillows before you realize, lips hard on yours as he suddenly straddles you.

Then he pulls back, watches you anxiously as your tongue darts out to taste your lips where you’d met. He sees the dreamy smile erupt on your face and the way your eyes squint when you’re really happy. Only then does he breathe again. It’s a sigh of relief and it’s cut short as you grab him by the collar and pull him down for a new kiss.

He tastes a bit of stale cigarette but thankfully it’s overpowered by something else. Chocolate? You aren’t sure and right now it doesn’t matter because instead of being the sensible one that he always is, he is kissing you back, a hand wandering up from your waist to cup you breast through the dress while the other one comes to rest behind your head. Sighing, Suguru lets his tongue sweep into your mouth to carefully probe at yours.

His thumbs is rubbing at your nipple through the fabric and you arch your back slightly. Fingers tangle in his long hair, not caring that you’re pulling strands free of his half-bun but rather focusing only on keeping him as close as you can.

One of your hands moves along his shoulder and back, reaching the waistline of his trousers which it follows to the front. There, it’s a small leap to find the straining bulge and cup it, feeling the outline of his cock through the rough but pliable fabric of the trousers.

“Damnit,” Suguru growls, rutting slightly into your palm.

It’s easy to loosen the trousers and slip a hand in. Eagerly grasping his erection, you moan into his mouth as your pussy clenches around nothing. He is heavy in your hand even as you carefully maneuver his cock so it’s straight with the exception of the slight curve upwards it apparently naturally has. Reaching further, you fondle his balls, feeling them tighten in your grasp.

But then he pulls back, out of reach which makes you whine and grasp for him getting nothing but air and the soft strands of hair until he straightens up too.

Looking up at him in the dimly lit room, you can see how blown his pupils are and how his chest is rising and falling rapidly. Slowly (or at least it feels too slow), he unbuttons his lose shirt to reveal his chiselled form.

Mirroring his actions, your reach for the zipper going all the way down the front of your tight dress. You watch him – still, enraptured – as more and more skin is revealed with each inch you move the zipper down.

You’ve reached the bellybutton by the time he loses patience and swats your hand away. In a swift move, Suguru opens the rest, pushing the fabric aside to greedily let his hands roam your body, sliding along the edges of your lingerie and causing your skin to pucker.

With a groan, he buries his head in your cleavage, inhaling deeply before lavishing your breasts with kisses and little bites. Pulling at the cups of your bra, he manages to free each boob somewhat, greedily greeting the perky nipples but he’s soon dissatisfied. Wanting more, Suguru pulls you up, sliding the dress down your arms and unfastening the bra with only a bit of fumbling.

You’re not sitting idly. Fingertips explore the planes of his physique before starting to pull his trousers down as far as you can reach when he constantly needs your arms in different places in order to undress you. But he gets the point and as he pushes you back onto the bed, he shimmies the trousers and boxers off, allowing you to take him in fully.

He’s gorgeous. You knew that already but to see him standing there at the foot of the bed in all his naked glory? It makes your heart skip a beat.

Suguru crawls up the bed, taking up position between your knees. Large hands glide up your thighs to the apex where he casually and tortuously slides his thumbs under your panties to feel along your folds and spread the juices there. He’s smirking.

“You want more?” he asks, causing you to nod frantically.

Grabbing the panties, he pulls them resolutely down your legs without breaking eye contact. He sits up on his haunches, gathers his long hair and ties it together with the use of the panties. Then, and only then, does he lower his gaze to your pussy, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Fuck,” he groans, palming himself almost absentmindedly, “looks even better than I imagined.”

Pushing your knees to the side, Suguru bends down and licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, causing your back to arch and your nails to dig into the sheets.

He’s good. He quickly learns exactly when he needs to suckle and nibble and when he needs to flick your clit with the tip of his tongue which he sometimes presses as far into you as he can, lapping up the juices as they are overflowing. Then a finger joins, reaching deeper yet and curling in just the right way so you let a loud moan slip free, no longer caring who might hear on the other side of the door.

You’re done for when he inserts not just one extra finger, but two. Slowly wiggling them in, stretching you while sucking and licking your clit until you forget how to breathe. You’re so close to bursting and he must sense it too because you can feel his smile on your lower lips just before he withdraws his fingers and pulls away, leaving you wanting.

Kissing his way up your body, he eventually reaches a point where his mouth meets yours and his cock nudges your folds. With a hand, he guides his erection along your slit, spreading your juices onto it before Suguru aligns with your entrance.

“You sure?” he asks, voice husky.

“Yes.”

And with that he slides in.

He is slow. He has to be because even with the preparation, you’re hardly ready for his size. Inch by inch, he fills you up. Splitting you, it seems. But it feels so good and you’re clinging on to him with arms and legs, pulling him deeper every time he rocks forward. And when you eventually can’t take any more and Suguru pauses to let you get used to it, you’re both out of breath.

You can feel his cock throb inside you. Can feel his hot breath in the crook of your neck and the way his fingertips dig into your flesh. And you want more.

“Please,” you manage to whisper.

He sets a brisk but steady pace. Each thrust rubs along the right spot inside of you and find yourself tightening impossibly around him as the tension grows which causes his hips to stutter for a moment as he has to get used to the feeling.

The sounds are sinful: skin slapping, juices squelching, moans and groans.

Suguru’s mouth is anywhere he can reach though always seeking back to either your lips or the crook of your neck.

As he displaces his weight, a large hand snakes between your bodies, thumb pressing down on your clit which sends a jolt of ecstasy through you...a jolt that’s reformed into a steady current as he rubs tight circles on it.

You friend – your lover – thrusts deeper and harder, causing the tension to built to the point where all you can do is whine his name before it all snaps and you tumble over the edge.

You’re vaguely aware of him suddenly pulling out, leaving you to flutter with your cunt around nothing. Suguru grunts and when you manage to open your eyes a little bit, you see him coming onto the expanse of your belly.

Slowly, his thumb relents, allowing you to come down from your high together with him as he hangs his head, exhausted like you.

“I’ll find something to clean you with,” he rasps but you’re too far gone to really reply anything.

You just miss him while he’s gone to goodness knows where. Thankfully he’s back soon with a wet washcloth which he uses to clean up his mess while kissing every inch of skin he’s wiped.

“I’ll make sure to have a condom next time,” he mutters, finally catching your gaze.

A smirk plays along your lips. “How quick can you get one?”

[splendsay]

COD FF // Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 41: Picture in a Frame

HEY SO YEAH sorry it's a lil late I got writer's block out the ass

love u mean it

pls enjoy

..................................................................

Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 41: Picture in a Frame

Rating: 18+ !!MDNI!! Chapters: 41/? WC: 109,583 Pairing(s): TF141 x F!Reader (You) Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, mature (sexual) content Chapter Excerpt (🚨spoilers!!🚨):

You spend most of the rest of the morning nursing your single cup of coffee and begging Gaz to make you something heavily salted and carbohydrate-dense. He obliges, but not without some good-natured ribbing, eventually setting a plate full of steaming potato wedges down in front of you. 

"Some chips should help, you lush" he coos, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. 

You're so grateful, you don't even bother sticking your tongue out in answer, you just shovel a handful in your mouth and release an appreciative moan. He chuckles and ruffles your hair before turning to wipe down the counter behind him. 

Maybe it's psychological, but you instantly feel better, and your headache is almost gone now, thanks to the aspirin. Gaz is such a good little den mother. You tell him as much and he replies with an unappreciative gesture, eliciting a few huffs of laughter from either side of you -- Soap and Simon.

Most everyone else has left, off to make arrangements for the company's departure. Pull transportable resources, contact folks on the ground in and around Boston, find someone to fly the whole group over there...Cap had a whole list of to-dos. 

 Soap reaches across you and takes a fry, holding it between his index finger and thumb as though it might sting him, delicately nibbling at one end. He looks a little better after hurling a few times, but he's still pretty green. 

"I'm surprised at you, Soapy," you tease. 

He glances at you, chewing his little bite slowly. He doesn't open his eyes fully, like the light is still hurting him. You know Gaz slipped him some drugs too, so his headache must be worlds worse than yours. "Why's that, love?"

You tilt your head.

"I'd've thought a man with such expensive taste in whisky would have a better tolerance."

He scowls. Gestures at you with a tiny wand of potato. "Oi -- vodka is a different beast altogether, lass. 'Specially whatever shite you fed us last night." He pales a little at the memory and takes another, even smaller bite.

You nod somewhat grimly and pop another fry into your mouth. "It was shite, I'll give you that."

"You two are pathetic," Simon murmurs, lifting his mask just enough to slurp his coffee. You don't miss the slight upturned curve of his lips.

One of your elbows reflexively finds its way into his ribs, but he catches it before you can do any real damage. You squeak in protest, snatching your arm back, not missing how his eyes twinkle with mischief. Your belly flutters lightly -- not unpleasant or liquor-driven. Delicate. Happy. You give him a little wink.

Gaz turns halfway from the sink, brows raised. "You got these two to drink vodka?"

You shrug and brush salt off your fingertips. "What can I say? Putty in my hands."

Simon and Soap make synchronized noises of incredulity. 

Gaz turns on the faucet and shakes his head, chortling to himself. 

You glance from side to side, grabbing another fry. "What? Am I wrong?"

"Careful, darling," Simon murmurs, sending a bolt of lightning through your core. 

Soap lets out a strangled groan and leans over his lap, panting like a dog. 

"Not on the floor, Soap, please," Gaz whines. 

"How the hell are you not hungover?" you ask, turning to face Simon more directly, only partly because you really, really don't want to see Soap yack. 

"Who says I'm not?"

You frown, a protest on your lips, when Cap swoops back into the room.

"What are you lot complaining about now?" he asks, rubbing his hands together like he's plotting something. His gaze snags on Soap, but he doesn't slow down as he walks straight up to the other side of Simon, eyeing the four of you. He plucks his hat off his head and grips it in one hand, bracing the other against the island.

"Nothing, Cap."

He snorts and snags a fry. "Somehow I doubt that. Good as always, Gaz."

"Thank you, sir," Gaz replies, holding a small bucket out at arm's length, offering it to Soap, who snatches it without looking up. 

"What's the progress so far?" Simon asks.

Cap makes a disgruntled noise. "Waiting on some call backs. Keller's got some people on the ground in Pennsylvania. I've got some friends in New York. Otherwise it's quiet out there. No comms from major orgs, not since Kate and Sunny were taken."

Your heart sinks a little. You hadn't expected much, but...you'd hoped. 

Maybe you should stop doing that. Hoping.

No, you chide yourself. Don't be silly. You have an entire crew here willing to travel across the ocean with you. If nothing else, that's remarkable on its own.

You just had to get there...if Cap could just get you there...you could figure out the rest. You could. You would.

"Just so you know," Cap says, eyes landing on you. "This is going to be a hell of an operation."

You lift your chin a little. "I know."

"I don't want you to worry. We'll manage."

"Can I help?" you ask. Your voice sounds kind of small.

"No, no," he shakes his head. "I don't think there's anything for you to do, love. Just -- try not to worry."

"You keep saying that."

"Yes, well, I mean it."

"No offense, Cap, but it's sort of having the opposite of your intended effect."

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Right. Well. In that case, since I've sufficiently bungled this conversation, maybe I'll just go. Calls to make, what have you."

"But...you just walked in."

"And now I'm walking out."

And he does, taking his hat with him, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. The four of you exchange a look. Soap's nausea must've subsided because he's upright again, bucket in his lap.

"That was weird," he mutters. 

"Yeah...it was," you agree. 

..................................................................... Links to: Spotify Playlist Full Fic

[moe-broey]

Adjacent topic, but. One of my favorite things actually is when Alfonse pulls the player aside and is like "Let me think out loud real quick." and when the situation calls for it, "Also what do you think?" Like obviously this happens so much across any game ever, especially ones that have a designated partner character. But it feels so special to me...

Especially with Alfonse, especially when he calls the summoner by name. He didn't used to do that!! In the very beginning!!! And he slips up, as Lif. Trying So hard to take it back. It just feels so personal... 🥲🥺

[winepresswrath]

I do gotta say tho, even tho I’m mad at aziraphale because he’s being a terrible boyfriend like what you said about the “I forgive you like” because WHAT. But also I really like the way the show really demonstrates the underlying cruelty of heaven and it’s angels. Really shows the hypocrisy of a group of beings who are supposed to do good, especially aziraphale who really buys into the heaven propaganda, who hurts people, particularly the person who means the most to him. Because like you said he fully just takes advantage of that devotion Crowley has for him. Insane, this shwo makes me INSANE

I missed this anon and yeah! The angels were one of my favourite parts of the season, and I think the strongest element aside from Neil Gaiman deciding he's just a simple man who wants to put his otp in situations. They are deeply awful and I kind of love them. They are the exact kind of moralizing hypocrites who are callous and cruel precisely because they think being on team good means everything they do is justified and it's actually impossible for them to be in the wrong (they're angels! is it even possible for them to do the wrong thing?).

but!! To me, they also seem like they're basically kids? Obviously they're not literally children, but there is this very consistent reoccurring joke about how childish/sheltered/immature they are. Muriel is the most obvious example, but the archangels come off like bratty twelve year olds to her sweet little kid.

Gabriel is basically teenager in love flipping off his family as he runs away with his backstreet guy. Uriel is constantly picking at Michael, Michael is playing at being in charge like it's a game, and it's ridiculously easy for both Aziraphale and Crowely to trick them obvious half assed lies. They're not allowed to ask questions! The Metatron treats them like badly behaved kids out past their curfew. At any point an old man with a beard may pop up to scold them and send them home, and they're all scared of doing something wrong by his standards and getting in trouble with this guy who is pointedly not God but who lines up exactly with the pop-culture idea of god the father, and who offers Aziraphale, among other things, a respite from the hard work of figuring out what the right thing to do is for himself. It's fine! You don't have to question the belief system you were born into or make a painful break with everything you've ever known! Aziraphale has had six thousand years on earth to grow up, but the other angels have been sitting in a sterile white box playing "i'm not touching you" games with each other and filing paperwork.

And I think that's extra interesting because this season also really emphasizes:

Heaven has Institutional Problems

Aziraphale isn't the only angel who's unhappy in heaven. Gabriel and Muriel were both completely miserable. They just didn't understand that they were unhappy because they'd never experienced anything else.

Angels who aren't Aziraphale can change and grow! There's very explicitly Gabriel being changed by love and Muriel growing up a bit on earth, and from a more fan-theory angle there's also Jimbriel, who I think is probably basically Gabriel minus the war and six thousand years of playing referee for Michael and Uriel while unleashing an assortment of plague and calamities on earth because that's God's will! Buck up champ.

We also get Gabriel and Beezelebub talking about how their underlings basically live for Armageddon, "if you can call that living." This is so bleak. They've all been on a six thousand year time out just dreaming of the day they get to beat the shit out of each other until they feel better, but it won't work because eternity is just more of the box.

Anyway I think it's going in a distinctly eden adjacent direction. Aziraphale is going to tempt those angels with knowledge and the capacity for change. I have veered so far from your ask anon i'm sorry you're right heaven really went all out on sucking this season & while Crowley and Aziraphale are both fucking it up Crowley refrains from being spectacularly cruel to Aziraphale about it and Aziraphale should learn to return the favour. I forgive you!! I forGIVE you. I forgive YOU. "you can be an angel again" is actually a worse thing to say than "you're a demon. i don't even like you." when he finally picks crowley over heaven i'm going to lose my mind.

[cloudd-nyne]

.

[musical-chick-13]

Okay, no, sorry, I’m still mad about this. “Be critical of the media you consume and examine why you react to it in the way that you do, support marginalized and stigmatized identities.” Yeah, until it’s about mental illness.

A woman (or even man, if he’s deemed over-emotional) makes music about suffering from mental illness and people just go, “What are they complaining about, that’s so immature, hashtag wangst.” (And then, sometimes, inexplicably, if the mentally ill woman gets better and writes happier music, they then talk about how artistically bankrupt she is now and that she should go back to hating herself.) People LOVE cis white pRoBLeMaTiC (straight) fictional men until they are realistically mentally ill, in which case they’re “whiny” and “insufferable” and deserve to die violently, apparently (or, if fandom is merciful, they’re ignored). (And then they celebrate when they DO inevitably get killed off.) “Do your duty and watch [thing I, mc13, personally find insufferable] For The (white) Gays because it has Gays.” Sure, will you watch c4 Pure, the ONLY show specifically about OCD, then? (No, the answer is no, it’s always no.)

I can’t get anyone to watch Doom Patrol. I couldn’t get people (in general-I did convince a few irl friends thank GOD) to watch Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. One of the most popular and acclaimed shows right now has a character with schizophrenia who was turned into the Big Bad Villain for no fucking reason. One of the most commonly-cited examples of Iconic™ queer media involves a mentally ill man being broken over and over and over again before The Ship™ can reasonably happen. DW introduced a major character who was at one point suffering from mental illness in her past, AND THEN ALL MENTION OF THIS WAS COMPLETELY DROPPED IN THE FUTURE, WITH NO BEARING ON ANYTHING TO THE POINT WHERE I FORGOT IT EVEN EXISTED??!?!? R*tched was a thing that existed despite the Sad Sympathetic Backstory treatment being IN DIRECT CONTRADICTION OF WHAT PURPOSE THIS CHARACTER SERVED IN One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. THEY GAVE. A SAD WOOBIE VILLAIN TREATMENT. TO THE /LITERAL PERSONIFICATION/ OF ABLEISM. THAT IS HER FUNCTION. TO EXIST AS A SYMBOL OF ALL THE WAYS SOCIETY OPPRESSES THE DISABLED AND MENTALLY ILL.

I am!!! Literally!!!!! The only one!!!!!!!!! Complaining about these things!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE ONLY ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No one else has said ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No one is talking about it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m so tired!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

You close the cupboard and nearly jump out of your skin as Adrienne stands on the other side of it. She stares at you soberly before she cracks a sheepish smile. You show your fright with a hand on your chest. 

“Ade,” you huff. 

She laughs, “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to.” 

“No problem,” you assure her. “What’s up?” 

Her nostrils flare and her smile dulls, “it’s been a week.” 

One week. Your father’s been away for a whole week. He’s rarely been gone that long. His jobs are never more than a couple days. And you haven’t heard from him, but that’s not unusual or disappointing. 

“Hopefully it will be another,” Kitty says as she walks into the kitchen with a half-finished glass of water. “It’s calm around her. Isn’t it?” 

You nod. A silence rises around the three of you. You think back to the one memory you have of a peaceful house. When it was the three of you and your mother. 

“He got that kidney stone,” Kitty says. “Had him in the hospital for days. Ma said it was barely the size of a bead.” 

“Best days of my life,” you agree. 

“I don’t remember,” Adrienne says. 

As the youngest, she doesn’t remember everything and you sometimes think that’s better for her sanity. Even your memory is splotchy. There are fractures of noise and vision. Sometimes you only see, other times it replays like a record on a player and crawls through your ears. 

“So, Ade, why are you so concerned?” Kitty inquires. 

Adrienne hesitates. She shrugs and looks away guiltily. She’s a bad liar. You all are despite the typical consequences. 

“Mitzi wanted to see a movie. They’re screening Breakfast at Tiffany’s at the Golden Reel.” 

“Audrey?” Kitty preens. “My favourite.” 

“You can come. I was going to ask both of you but I thought if daddy came back--” 

“And we’re all gone...” you add. “You two go. I can deal with him.” 

“That’s not fair,” Kitty says. 

“Really, go. I can’t focus on a movie right now.” You insist. “Have some popcorn for me, alright?” 

“He probably won’t be back,” Kitty argues. 

You wave her off, “really, it’s fine. You know I hate crowds. That theatre is tiny and it’ll probably be packed on a Friday night.” 

“Okay, but I’m bringing you back raisinettes. I know you love them.” Kitty insists. 

“Have fun. Tell Mitzi I said hello,” you turn back to the cupboards and run your hands over the laminate.  

You’ve been restless. You clean just to keep yourself busy. To keep from thinking. And when you lay down at night, you’re not kept awake by your usual dread. It isn’t your father standing on your chest, it’s Barnes. In your dreams, he doesn’t strut into the bakery, but into your house. And he sits at the table where your father would usually be and sits silently, waiting. 

That’s why this calm unsettles you. There’s always a storm to come after the quiet. It will unfurl soon enough. 

“Hey, you okay?” Kitty’s gentle touch makes you wince. 

“I’m good,” you assure her and nearly gag on your tongue. For a moment, it wasn’t your voice, it was your mother’s. That same lie she told for so long. You both hesitate at the echo of your lifetimes. “Really,” you face her, “you know I’m dying to have this place to myself. When does that ever happen?” 

She stares at you then smiles. “Yeah, enjoy it while it lasts.” 

She falters again. It’s what you’re all thinking. You want to milk every bit of joy out of your father’s absence.

Kitty turns and grabs Adrienne’s hand, quickly redirecting from the threat of inevitability, “Ade, what are you gonna wear?” 

You take out the flour and all the other ingredients you need. For once, you can afford to spare a bit extra. When you were really young, your mother made her own bread. That stopped shortly after she had Adrienne. She changed after that. She was exhausted with all three of you. 

You measure out every part before you begin. Your precision has always tied you in knots. You find it hard to get anything done unless it’s entirely orderly. In a house full of chaos, that means often you don’t get much done at all. 

As you knead the dough, Kitty and Adrienne’s voices garble on the stairs. They stomp down to the first floor and call a goodbye to you through the doorway. You holler back but keep your hands working. 

You get the loaf in the oven and clean up the mess. The empty house is eerie. You can’t remember the last time you were all alone. Really alone. Ever, if at all. 

You wash the bowls and the whisk and the roller. You put it all away, step-by-step, running through every single detail. The timer counts down, the small windable egg-shaped device your mother always had going for one way or another. Tick, tick, tick. 

It goes off and you jump. For a moment, you’re back in your memories. You’re a little girl at the table, watching your mother rush around the kitchen. Kitty’s beside you with a colouring book and Adrienne’s in her high chair. 

Your mother limps from the fridge to stove. She doesn’t let it deter her. She bends to take out the pan of food as the timer buzzes. Adrienne wails at the noise as you cover your ears. The smell of cigarette smoke singes in your nostrils. 

You twist the timer so it goes silent as you return to the present. The scent of tobacco fades as the fresh baked bread wafts through the kitchen. You open the creaky oven door and use the stained oven mitts to take the pan out. Your mother always wanted a new stove. You assume she wanted a lot of things that she never got. 

You put the pan down and shut off the oven. The doorbell pierces the air and you spin, your back hitting the counter. It wouldn’t be your father; he wouldn’t ring the door. He always comes in screaming, even in the middle of the night. 

You put the oven mitts on the table as you pass and step out into the hall. You near the door, a shadow on the other side of the marbled glass. It’s a man. Your heartbeat spikes. Your father is a criminal and a strange man knocking at your door could be dangerous. 

Is death so bad when living is terrifying? 

You open the door. A wash of deja vu flows over you. It isn’t a strange man, it’s Steve Rogers. Again. That doesn’t ease your worries. 

“You. Come.” He orders you. 

You hold your breath. That is unusual. Your father’s associates come and go, most times they barely acknowledge you, they’re just there to talk shit with him or drag him off on some caper. This is different. Different is dangerous. 

“Yeah, you,” he snaps his fingers. “Look, I don’t got all day. Let’s go.” 

You look down. “My shoes...” 

“Get ‘em,” he sighs and crosses his arms. 

You step back and leave the door open. You step into a pair of scuffed flats and turn back to him. You don’t even grab your keys as you step outside. You’re shaking. 

“Is it my father?” You ask. 

“No questions.” He snarls as he turns and marches down the narrow walkway. 

You follow him at a bouncing pace, struggling to keep up with him. He leads you to the car and opens the back door. It’s then that you notice the woman in his front seat. Her eyes are skittish as she peers back out at you. 

“Get in,” he opens the door. “And be quiet.” 

You put your head down and obey. The look on that woman’s face is enough to keep you in line. Besides, your father prepared you well. There’s an order to things and you’re at the very bottom. So keep your mouth shut and do what you’re told.