#but with about a million final projects (if i never have to write another fucking essay again i will ascend to the heavens) coming up-

[ask-the-bone-boys]

[[ok gang i am genuinely so sorry to be doing this literally RIGHT before the end of the event but i've got a whole buncha stuff lining up irl that i am starting to reeeaaally need to address/prioritize and there are a couple things that i still want to do for the "finale" here that i haven't had the time to set up, so all of this is to say iiii need to take at least a day or two to Slow Down And Chill for a bit

I haven't entirely decided if this means I'll take a full break like i have been for the weekends or if I'll just post a little less than I have been, it depends on how I end up feeling really. I will absolutely try my best to make up for the days I've missed tho! I have something pretty cool planned that I think has the potential to be pretty fun, just like i said I gotta set things in place first haha]]

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

A Letter From An Ex-Conservative To Her Parents On November 6th, 2024

Mom and Dad,

     When Trump got shot this summer, I remember you saying that this was all because the Left wouldn’t stop calling him Hitler. How we needed to “turn down the temperature” and stop “inciting violence.” I don’t think you understand that when people compare Trump to Hitler, it is not, in fact, just because they do not like him, but because he uses Hitlerian rhetoric on a regular basis. Obsessing over an imagined past version of a country that never truly existed. Saying that (insert frequently dehumanized other) is “poisoning the blood of the nation.” Before Hitler began the Final Solution against Jews, what did he say he planned to do? Deport them, until he realized it was too costly. I don’t think you understand that Hitler did not start putting people in death camps the second he came to power. Trump is currently in about the same position Hitler was in in the 1930s. Is it going to take him putting undocumented people in gas chambers for you to believe me? 

     You might think that I’ve only come to my current conclusions about Trump because of the lies of “the mainstream media”, which, as I’ve said numerous times, I don’t even watch. But it’s actually been largely due to the things Trump himself has said. I understand that you don’t like Biden calling Trump’s voters “garbage”, but the language Trump uses to describe his political opponents is at least as disturbing. He’s disparaged fallen soldiers as “suckers and losers.” He’s proudly boasted about being the president who got Roe V Wade appealed, regardless of the estimated thousands of women who are dying because the medical treatments they need fall too close to the legal definition of abortion. A massive portion of his campaign advertisements are explicitly anti-trans. He thinks Palestinians should be moved off their land because it would make “great beachfront property.” He regularly speaks positively of and rubs elbows with the most disturbing members of the alt-right, such as Laura Loomer and Nick Fuentes. He’s a bully. (you voted for a bully. Remember when I was bullied?) And if Kamala’s plans are incoherent, which admittedly some of them are, Trump’s are even more so. He doesn't have a plan. America is just another failed business to him. 

     I don’t think you’re bad people. But I do think your party is bad. This is far more than just one guy. My journey has been less one of changing any of my beliefs than realizing that the Republican Party never represented those beliefs to begin with. It is the party of the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer, of stripping the oppressed of their means to succeed and then asking them to “pull themselves up by the bootstraps.” Your precious Reagan was a racist. There’s recorded evidence. His policies were racist. He enabled denial and misinformation about AIDS until it was too little too late and millions had died. And you proudly display his book on your shelf, right next to Rush Limbaugh and Pat fucking Buchanan. Your son is a gay man. How could you. 

     Being a conservative, whether you think so or not, is inherently about preserving the status quo, about making sure things stay the way they are, that the people who are down stay down, and crushing anyone who tries to make things better. I didn’t vote Democrat because I am one. I voted Democrat because it would be easier under one such administration to push this country in the direction of equity and liberty. Project 2025 was intended for the next conservative administration. Trump may deny involvement, but the foreword of one of the sections was written by none other than his own vice president. And with the House, Senate and Supreme Court all red now, it’s going to be easier than ever for him to pass any portions of it he likes. 

     I’m writing you this letter so that you know that if a nationwide abortion ban gets put in place, if schools and parents who support their children’s gender affirming care (which does NOT mean surgery) start getting investigated (which some already are), if Israel continues bombing Gaza until there’s nothing left, if billionaires continue to take up larger and larger percentages of the nation’s wealth, if immigrants who’ve lived and worked in this country for years start getting deported in droves because they couldn’t get the right paperwork, that it’s on you and people like you, even as you continue deny the very real damage done in Trump’s first presidency, the awful, awful people who felt empowered because of him. I tried for a while this summer to see if I could change your minds, but all it did was screw up my mental health and make me realize something truly painful: that you aren’t the people I thought you were. Not when your reaction to police shooting students the same age as your own daughter with rubber bullets because they don’t want their university to be complicit in a genocide is “well, what are they supposed to do? They’re the police.” Not when a man can say immigrants are poisoning the blood of the nation and you still vote for him. 

     It breaks my heart that you and so many people I love have been so deeply conditioned to vote against their own best interests, to think that a government that actually helps its people without actively harming others is a childish, fanciful expectation. I think I truly believed to the depths of my soul until last night that this wouldn’t happen. That we were better than this. That we wouldn’t reelect someone who objectively ran a terrible campaign, who conducts himself with boorishness and indignity, who genuinely, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart, represents everything that made me scream "Fuck America" out Laura’s car window this summer. But why should I be surprised America likes fascists? My own parents certainly seem to.

     But I hope you’re happy with your lower grocery prices, I guess. Which we probably won’t be getting anyway, because that’s not actually what Trump’s policies are going to do. 

     You sold out my friends, and entire marginalized communities, for cheaper groceries. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you for that.

Lauren

[notquitequelled]

nothing's wrong-- i'm just a STEM student...

[i rarely see stem rep-- so here’s PART TWO! (find part one here) the extended edition of ‘stoners in stem’ highlighting the parts of this life that i find myself loving ;p

Thinking of doing sectionals (Physics, Environmental Studies, Mechanics, Entomology, etc.), so if there are any suggestions you'd like to highlight, plz tag or comment !!]

TAG YOURSELF !! I LOVE SEEING WHAT YALL GET UP TO !!

slightly concerned glances being shared between even the worst of acquaintances when your mentor drops some crazy lore surrounding how they entered their field(s)

good god. the apple-cider vinegar and dish soap gnat traps. honey alternatives decidedly never cross anyone's mind (nor the threshold of the lab for that matter)

walking the fine line between the Ridiculous and the Logical during data analysis like the two aren't twin kings of ruin

noncommital shrugs when asked anything about your preferred diet or eating habits

writing exclusively with pen, or exclusively with pencil. feeling borderline disgusted having to use the other when you forget your own

'Why do you care?' 'Why don't you??'

Every documentary you watch absolutely changing your life and challenging your worldview

Either hanging onto your textbooks like a lifeline or forgetting about them as they gather dust under your bed. maybe you never bought them at all-- pirated PDFs littering your desktop

anything in jars being considered decor (snakes, regurgitated bones, praying mantis egg cases)

seeing the slant of fences, trees, and lamp posts-- thinking of all the wind and weather that's passed along the same path you have

TREEHUGGER !!! HA HA

the clean quiet that hangs over the linoleum early in the morning; the warmth is not so subtle now that you've rolled up your sleeves.

teaching everyone around you how to bypass PAY FOR ARTICLES because knowledge should always be F[ree]INED [inspect, gear, disable java]

having to just sit by n watch while someone pointedly ignores your input, and a totally avoidable incident (that could have totally been avoided) is not, in fact, avoided

dealing with the consequences of that incident for the rest of the experiment/project

blank stare, lips in a placatingly firm line as you nod along with the stern talking-to you're being given. their words going in one ear and out the other because you're already thinking through another way under admin's nose

whaaaaat ? how'd those locally indigenous species just pop up everywhere overnight, ha ha ? wow nature is crazyyy

digging through public records for one reason, only to uncover an entirely different can of worms about the institution you frequent

digging in the literal dirt and uncovering literal worms lol amirite guys

'Please remember that this is just a prototype and that i'm it's in a very fragile state right now.'

going crazy trying to figure out what a specific testing company uses in their chemical compounds, because good fucking god how are you supposed to cite the evidence if you can't even label what it is?

a disastrous experiment being abandoned like Chernobyl once determined beyond salvation-- everyone curious to see how it'll develop and fester when left on its own

'life imitates art,' you think, as you finally recognize one of your unnecessarily complicated formulas being represented in your daily life

often being so bad at the thing you love that you can't do anything about it but laugh

staring for so long at something during a lecture that white begins to leech into your vision. you should probably blink a few times so people don't begin to suspect you're a reptile (even more than they already do)

'Don't.. don't look at me like that...' [speaking to a(n) (INSERT NAME OF LITTLE CRITTER HERE) you had to gently move onto a little scale to collect data]

honing in on where your talents in your field lie; the disappointment in finding your limits that turns to indifference when you remember you're still phenomenal at a million other things you enjoy

'i want to study you like a bug.'

thinly concealed irritation masked by a patient smile and a small 'mhm' when someone tries to explain your life's purpose TO you (ten dollars says they're wrong about it, too)

'and you want me to run this... on a full moon?' 'don't start with that shit again.'

yer disgust is lookin' a lot like morbid curiosity these days...

a lot of your scientific conclusions being discerned by common sense ('Please just use your cognitive functions, you guys...')

a clean earth sciences lab floor.. my white whale...

the small (increasingly large) pile of recyclable material that's waiting to be torn apart or filled with soil and plants; it topples over when people walk past, but no one can bring themselves to throw any away

'all this only cost me like... $270. which is crazy given that these're the real fuckin' deal with solid steel reinforcements.' 'man...this shit is so gonna blow down.'

leaning into the obscure, instead of away from it out of habit; seeing its effect in your daily life and work

all the plastic utensils in the dining area being stolen for diagrams, leaving behind only the reusable metalware. this is unexpectedly admirable of the engineers, if only to those who care about the inadvertent environmentalism

taking things apart to see how they work-- having very little planned on how to put it back together

'I don't know what you want me to do about that, you created it.' 'Not on purpose!'

downloading photomath during testing season. your doubt being palpable over your (in)ability to solve simple equations

carrying hand lotion everywhere you go because of how often your work has you washing your hands; colleagues and peers holding their hands out like beggars in a Mel Brooks film ('lotion... dollop of lotion for the poor D:')

borrowing chemical-grade goggles from the lab before going out to protest; supervisors giving you dubious thumbs ups while they 'accidentally' leave the key to the goggle sanitation station right by the cabinet..

'Now that you've poured your blood, sweat, tears, and other secretions into this project-- decide if you want to take it home to maintain, or have it eradicated.'

utilizing the public library, but having to double-check the internet before citing anything from the books you pour over because your city is more concerned with the way the building looks than the content it supplies

'The Martian,' both the book and the movie ... Mark Watney you will always be famous,,

'Why are you taking so many difficult classes at once?' 'My entire degree is difficult classes.'

carrying a small journal everywhere in an attempt to organize your thoughts, tasks, and reminders (you've never looked back on a single you've written, but you like to think it at least helps in the moment)

being torn between the scientific evidence that supports getting eight hours of sleep and your own hubris. you can stay up it's fine. it'll be fine.

you're not fine but at least the lab counters feel so nice against the side of your face

WHAT THE FUCK IS EVEN A KILOGRAM 🦅🦅🦅‼??!!!!!

having no idea where your degree will take you, giving everyone who asks a different vague answer

hands being littered with cuts and burns; not being able to stop yourself from touching even at the worst of times

geeking out over carbon sensors and ammonia regulators your supervisor managed to convince the department to splurge on (nothing provided by them will enter your lab for another three semesters)

being one of the most prepared people ever when it comes to disaster prep; this includes zombies

'this was not.. our intended result... someone get the shovel.'

pettiness infiltrating your daily life in the form of utilizing your talents; coding programs and drawing up diagrams and running tests just to prove someone wrong (or just to fuck with them)

studying with your liberal arts friends; both of you staring at your respective incomprehensible lines of symbols and words that neither of you have the brainpower to comprehend. most of the lights are off and the library closes in ten minutes, but you know the night staff and they've learned to keep their distance until absolutely necessary.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #321

I thought that today, I would be heading out at around 9am to Great Barrington to pick up J. The flight club plane was due for its annual inspection, and that's the closest place where it can get done. J was supposed to fly it there, and I was supposed to drive there by the time he arrived, and then bring him home.

...I love the drive to Great Barrington. As you saw from the couple video I made for you, it's a very pretty drive. Nonetheless, I think I was still pretty zonked out from yesterday's adventures. I was not sad when J woke me up at around 6am to tell me that one of the other club members already brought the plane there, and he was gonna go pick them up instead.

...I went back to sleep pretty much immediately. It was pretty fucking great!!

I think I woke up probably around 9am. At some point, J had sent along a picture that he took of the morning sunrise; maybe you'll like it:

From there, I had a pretty lengthy conversation with one of my friends in this space about the nature of childhood conditioning and the kinds of things that can be done about it. We talked some about projection, and how it relates to stereotyping, and the evolutionary mechanisms that predispose humans towards stereotyping, and all sorts of other fun stuff!

...I kinda wanna cover it with you now, but my brain is pretty sludgy, so I'm not sure I'd be able to articulate it right now quite as well as I thought I did this morning. Maybe I'll get into it some other time. But... to make a long story short... weird things happen when we turn our past abusers into templates, and then apply those templates universally to other people. We can't go around looking for signs of our past abusers in new people, because then we end up holding the actions of past abusers against new people. And we can't go around looking for people similar to our past abusers for the purpose of convincing them to love us in an effort to prove to ourselves that we never deserved to be abused in the first place.

...Only needed to learn that lesson the hard way like a million fucking times before it finally sank in for me. Holy shit. 😵

...And it's not that I'm dense. It's literally just that this shit is hard. In order to overcome our old conditioning, we have to defy our own biology in some respects. Brains don't like needing to rewire themselves. People aren't built for major changes in the composition of their "monkeysphere". People are built to stereotype for the same reason that asking, "but what if this jaguar doesn't eat me...?" used to cause people to get eaten by jaguars.

Unfortunately, our bodies still haven't caught up to modern times in a variety of respects, and that's just something we gotta work around.

...I spent a lot of the rest of today floundering. More specifically, I spent it doing leisure writing. I guess my body must have needed to rest; my mind felt kinda floaty, foggy, and unanchored for most of today.

...The nice thing about leisure writing is that, when I'm in that space, I feel... welcomed, wanted, enjoyed, and understood. I'm not misconstrued as having hostile or otherwise weird intentions in that space. In this space, I am fully safe. And... I don't find all of these things at once in very many other spaces.

...

Anyway, I was able to get the broth fully strained today! I squished the excess water out of the rest of the veggie scraps, and then I passed it into another bowl, through a wire mesh strainer lined with a folded cheesecloth. Like so:

The layered cheesecloth filers any gritty goop out of the broth:

We can use the cheesecloth to squish the excess water out of the gritty goop, just like we squished the excess water out of the veggie scraps. And then I washed the crockpot, and transferred the broth from the stand mixer bowl back into the crockpot. I'll stick it in the fridge, where the fat will rise to the surface and solidify so that it can be easily scraped off:

...It should be ready to be seasoned tomorrow!!! Hopefully I'll have enough energy to do it!

Aside from that... I don't have much else to say today, except that the little pumpkin seedling seems to be doing well:

...Maybe it's just my imagination, but it seems maybe just a little taller today. Don't you think so...?

...Hey, Sephiroth? Have you ever tried to grow a plant from a seed? If you have, then... what kind of plant was it? Did it do well?

...I think maybe I'll go to bed "early". I put that in quotes because it's supposed to be Daylight Savings Time, so all the clocks got set back by one hour recently. It's a lame and stupid thing that my country does that isn't actually useful. In fact, due to the disruption in people's sleep schedules, we usually see an increase in heart attacks and traffic accidents for a little while after the clocks are changed. I wish we'd stop doing it.

So the clock says 10:19pm. But my body thinks it's 11:19pm. Lame.

I'll stop writing and say good night, then...

Hey. I love you a whole lot. So please stay safe out there, with whatever you're doing at the Edge of Creation. Don't project your past abusers onto the rest of humanity, okay? Because it isn't fair. We might be biologically inclined towards stereotyping, but it still isn't fair to do, and we still gotta do our best to avoid doing it. Okay? Don't dehumanize other people by reducing them to templates that have been beaten into your skull by people who never cared for you.

Do your best. I'll be rooting for you. I'll do just about anything to support you, in whatever ways I can.

Count on another letter tomorrow. Maybe there will be something yummy in it.

Your friend, Lumine

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

This is not good at all...

Insiders and nothing official, so take this with a grain of salt.. but it is brutal.

Regarding Kang and Loki:

“Marvel is truly fucked with the whole Kang angle,” says one top dealmaker who has seen the final “Loki” episode. “And they haven’t had an opportunity to rewrite until very recently [because of the WGA strike]. But I don’t see a path to how they move forward with him.” 

So they might have to re-write the upcoming movies/series while it's all still filming. My, my...

The Marvels:

Directed by Nia DaCosta, “The Marvels” [...] resulted in four weeks of reshoots to bring coherence to a tangled storyline. DaCosta began working on another film while “The Marvels” was still in postproduction. “If you’re directing a $250 million movie, it’s kind of weird for the director to leave with a few months to go,” says a source familiar with the production.  In June, Marvel held a public test screening in Texas. The audience gave the film middling reviews.   

I'm including a snippet from another interview here because Da Costa said this last month:

While some directors, such as James Gunn, receive almost full creative control for their MCU entries, DaCosta recognized she had to answer to Feige: "It is a Kevin Feige production, it’s his movie." Da Costa did not have full creative control of the movie.

Picture me extremely worried now.

The VFX:

At the world premiere of “Quantumania,” [...] “There were at least 10 scenes where the visual effects had been added at the last minute and were out of focus. It was insane. I’ve never seen something like that in my entire career. Everyone was talking about it.”  The schedule swap with “The Marvels” had left the “Ant-Man” sequel in a squeeze, pushing up its postproduction schedule by four-and-a-half months. Some final effects for “WandaVision” and “She-Hulk: Attorney at Law” were inserted after their streaming debuts. 

The VFX guys have so much work and Disney gives them impossible deadlines, to the point that the releases of their series arrive and they haven't had the time to finish their work. I'm so glad these guys are unionized now!

On Blade:

The project has gone through at least five writers, two directors and one shutdown six weeks before production. One person familiar with the script permutations says the story at one point morphed into a narrative led by women and filled with life lessons. Blade was relegated to the fourth lead.

Holy fuck, that script? Seriously? I bet they would have tried to sell that as feminist, wtf... 🤦‍♀️

Bringing back the OG Avengers. No, really:

Sources say there have been talks to bring back the original gang for an “Avengers” movie. This would include reviving Iron Man and Black Widow. But the studio hasn’t yet committed to the idea.

"We're not working on the new characters well enough and people don't like them! What should we do?"

"Should we write them better?"

"No, let's just bring the old ones back!"

There is one good thing though:

Still, there was one bright spot in 2023: “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3,” which became Marvel’s biggest draw of the year with $845 million worldwide. 

Fuck yeah, James Gunn! It's almost like when you focus on the characters and you tell a cohesive story, people like it and pay the damn tickets to watch it...

[basuralindo]

Chapter 10 of You'll Have Me Rise, You'll Have Me Fall is up!!

You can read it right here:

And there's some commentary in the notes but I have so many more thoughts and am gonna go on about them under the cut. Please read the chapter before looking through my commentary, but you're all welcome to interact about it on here

Okay, so, in roughly chronological order:

-Idk if the Jamil and Kalim stuff is coming off shippy, but that's not the intention. What I'm tryna present is the fact that they have no concept of boundaries with each other. Jamil was basically instructed, as a child, to look after this whole ass other child with way too little actual adult supervision, and it didn't go well.

-Jamil has a Very loose understanding of free will as is, considering his situation, and Snake Whisper has always been kinda just another tool used to desperately try to get through situations. The idea that forcing someone to not have nightmares without their knowledge or consent might be fucked up doesn't really cross his mind, because he's been doing it since they were little and Kalim always seems happier than when he's left to just deal with his own bad dreams.

-People tend to get stuck with the aftereffects of an intense trigger for quite a while after, and Jamil's behavior is definitely gonna be influenced more heavily by ptsd in the next few chapters.

-Yes, Jamil really is out here basically poledancing on that broom. Why? Because athletes are literally the least self aware people when it comes to doing weird shit with their bodies and I know this from so much personal experience. I also imagine that the brooms operate a lot based on the rider's clarity of intention. So Jamil being already very comfortable with heights because of playing on the carpet with Kalim as kids, and having pretty good focus with multitasking in general, he has very little issues with getting the broom to do what he wants. Meanwhile, Azul would be able to fly just fine, but he's so scared of heights he loses all sense of intention once he gets a couple feet off the ground

-✨Guess who never learnt what dyslexia is because royalty aren't supposed to have learning disorders!✨ Just wait till those two find out about adhd. (Also, major headcanon that Kalim self medicates with caffeine)

-Anyway THE TEXTING!! This is the part that I had no plans to write until going "wait, they should exchange numbers because duh" Then wrote the actual scene and went "wait omfg the teins would totally find that!" Anyway I'm glad I did because it was a lot of fun to write and finally breaks the ice between them all a little more. It ended up taking a lot longer than I'd expected to depict the sheer chaos of texting three people in the same room at the same time.

-I actually thought a lot about the texting patterns on this. Floyd writes in a hurry because his thoughts come and go so fast he just spits them out as they come, which results in spamming with a million short messages when he's actually in the mood to talk. He also canonly has this tendency to just say shit that makes sense in his head, where he has context, and doesn't get it when other people don't understand, so with texting that kinda comes out as not bothering with much punctuation to indicate tone because he knows what tone he's using and forgets that nobody else does. Azul on the other hand is suuuper neurotic about how he presents himself, and texting is no exception. Perfect diction, punctuation, etc. Uses autocorrect and then doublechecks the outocorrect. Jade figures Azul already put all the effort into establishing how to present himself flawlessly, and just imitates his style. (They're both wrong. Azul comes off like a car salesman, and Jade comes off like an alien impersonating a car salesman). I have a reason for this dynamic and I'm gonna go into it eventually in the fic. Jamil is just trying to spell things correctly and uses punctuation as normally as he can. He uses contractions and slangs even less over text because he's not confident in being able to spell less familiar words and doesn't wanna risk it. (He also uses contractions less in general around Azul because, while he tries to come off like he's mastered English around all his potentially hostile peers, Azul never mocks him for his speech so he's more comfortable about wording things awkwardly. Jamil hasn't noticed this consciously yet.)

-Jadeeeeee. This fic is slow burn in general, but it's definitely burning at different speeds for each of them, and Jamil/Jade is definitely the slowest. Neither of them are the kind to openly pursue someone without the other party initiating A Lot, and they're much more emotionally distant than Floyd or Azul. Also, Jade is territorial and Jamil is paranoid and it's gonna take a long time before they get anywhere near trusting each other. Despite that, they're finally starting to notice that they have some shit in common and actually enjoy talking to each other in all the convoluted mincy bullshit ways that nobody else wants to engage in.

-Yes, Jamil feels the need to conceal laughter and smiles even when he's alone in his room. No, he's not okay, but that's kind of the whole plot.

-Again, I just really enjoyed getting to write Jamil having a nice time?? Finally starting to think about the fact that he actually WANTS these guys in his life, for non-strategic purposes, just because they make him happier! I'm finally getting somewhere in this mess of my own making lmao

Anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk. I have a lot of feelings about these guys and I'm tempted to do more posts like this about previous chapters just so I can get myself to babble less in the fic notes

[svampira]

unrelated to the ask game but. can u drop some elias imesh lore for me pleek how'd they meet how exactly do they feel about each other🥺👉👈

Heheheheh CAN I. yes. Need to figure out how to write a plot summary first though

So the hunters sent Imesh to seek Elias out shortly after his embrace both to "save" him and as a link to his sire (famous abstract artist, did a lot of sus shit that put him on their radar). Short story short they thought Elias was a thrall + didn't know his sire has been executed. They meet in a nightclub where Imesh immediately realises something is very very wrong and that Elias' memories had been fucked with, meanwhile Elias just assumes he's another guy coming onto him and starts flirting to eat as usual. Imesh goes along with it almost against himself and finds out Elias is a vampire by getting bitten in the shitty club bathrooms ^^.

Vtm is very silly so a vampire bite (especially with the specific powers Elias has) just feels like a really intense orgasm and the only reason Imesh even realises he's been bitten is that he's a hunter, and even then he doubts himself because he'd somehow never expected something like that to happen to him. Elias just leaves while Imesh is recovering and he doesnt even get to go hey man wtf :(. Another thing abt Elias is that his bite is very addictive and it makes his victims easier to manipulate, so Imesh just keeps thinking about it for days on end.

Once again going against his better judgement he tells the hunters Elias is a thrall, both because of his attraction to him/the shame that comes with it and because he genuinely feels sorry for what he can gather happened to him. He doesn't tell his mh. Very pregnant wife this either.

He basically seeks Elias out once again almost every night after this until they finally meet again a few days later, except this time the moment they're alone Imesh points a gun at him😍 Elias realises he doesn't have it in him to shoot and basically plays the part of the innocent clueless vampire which Imesh 100% falls for. That's kind of how their relationship starts off.

When it comes to how they feel about each other🤔 I would say it starts off with them completely not understanding each other and Elias being very manipulative, evolves into something much more sincere, then completely implodes (because theyre being more honest about who they are and they both really suck). Elias starts off completely enamoured with the thrill of their "illicit" relationship and caring very little about Imesh himself, to actually starting to fall in love with him. Imesh is the main person that makes him rediscover "human" things and he's the only one who treats him with any gentleness or empathy + they genuinely get along (though Elias is very extroverted he could get along with a wall. They don't have that much in common Imesh is literally 17 years older).

Imesh instead feels much more lust for him than love, he loves feeling like his saviour and his perception of him is very much skewed by the persona Elias projected on his social media when he was alive (fake wholesome to his millions of followers, evil cunt irl) + just genuinely wanting to see him as a victim and an innocent to be able to be ok with their relationship. When Elias does let slip his real personality he just assumes it's a consequence of vampirism which just makes his saviour complex worse. He is also still under the effects of Elias' bite throughout all of this, though he never realises the full extent of it.

As they start to care more about each other Elias gets more and more jealous and possessive, while Imesh starts bringing up his missing memories, his relationship with his sire and his human life more and more in an effort to "bring him back to himself" which makes Elias go completely crazy insane every time. He ends up threatening Imesh' wife and children which prompts Imesh to stake him while he's not expecting it the next time they meet (it doesnt kill them in vtm lore, just paralises). He is unable to pull through with killing him once again and lets Elias go and Elias reacts. How you can probably imagine he would react.

[eat-the-richard]

GOTY OF THE YEAR 2,000,023

IT'S ABOUT THAT TIME AAGAIN FRIENDS! Another overly long written ramble about the very best in my personal gaming life and experience delivered DIRECTLY TO YOUR EYEBALLS!

And what a year it was!! For gaming! All of it! Just a comprehensive onslaught of video game products from all different genres and developers. From Triple As to Indies to whatever the fuck we're supposed to call the middle ground of those two. No matter who you (yes, YOU, not the general ""you"") are, something came out this year that tickled your little small little balls in one way or the other.

The best part of all, though? A year like this will NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN!! Certainly not next year, like my god look at that 2024 upcoming games list, man. It is *slight*.

You wanna know why? Because this amount of quality output, of course, does not come from studios or companies or brands or even the almighty dollar sign. It comes, of course, from people. People who are insanely talented and passionate about their craft. Likely those who dreamed for years to be a part of this seemingly amazing industry of creative professionals all striving towards the same creative goals. And for gaming developers, 2023 was not a year worth celebrating. Sure the products that they worked on released to the public to play and enjoy, but as soon as these projects wrapped up, the studio or company or brand or even the almighty dollar sign ditched their ass RIGHT TO THE CURB!

Because to all of those previously mentioned abstractions, talent is expendable. Demand for talent should be at an all time high, given that gaming continues to be the most money-making entertainment medium of the 21st century. So more games should be in development, therefore necessitating more job opportunities and areas where passionate individuals can spearhead their own creativity into a golden goose. But, of course, this is not how abstractions operate. The talent who creates these fine pieces of art are mere cogs to them, oiling and greasing a machine that will continue to move as long as the pieces are in place. And there will always be a new crop of cogs fresh in the industry who will be willing to take meager pay, miserable conditions, and limited flexibility in their line of work, as long as they get a chance to work with the abstractions.

This, of course, will not happen. The continuous horror of the modern gaming industry spreads far and wide. Notably to our youth, as chronically online as they are, who likely will not want to invest their time and life into a career that will never respect them. As for the talent who have been laid off every month this year? They won't stick around. Their services are applicable in many other fields that not only pay better, but have far more job security. So the talent pool dries up, there will be increasingly fewer individuals looking to refill, and the gaming bubble finally pops.

We're at the precipice of it, and it's hard to ignore the warning signs. It's hard to write a piece about the "great year in gaming" we as consumers had as it feels like the industry that created it might not look the same way in 10 years. Gaming won't die, obviously, there's too much demand for it. But the 300 million dollar blockbusters, the 3-4 year crunch periods, the constant race to produce technological best. That will die. And this year was the last hurrah.

So, in that spirit, let's celebrate the year that was for me. The 10 best games from this year and previous that remind me why I love it in the first place. Why I want to support it, and wish it nothing but the best. And most of all, highlighting the talent who ultimately made it possible, rather than the abstraction who will tear it down.

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Anyway! Enough of that SHIT!! Video games are cool, and I like them. Today, we’re going to RANK the TOP 10-ish GAMES I PLAYED in Twenty Twenty Three. But before that, let’s dive into some dis/honorable mentions.

REMASTER I REALLY LIKED BUT DIDN’T WANT TO RANK BECAUSE ITS A REMASTER OF THE YEAR: Metroid Prime Remastered (NSW)

Take your pick of, like, six or seven different 25-30 year old Metroid fans and slam them elbow-first into a padded cell. Once they come to and they start talking about Metroid, as you do in confinement, about five or six of them will confess that their first love was Metroid Prime. I would count myself one of them inside of the cell, even if it took me until 2015 and the shudders Wii U Virtual Console for me to finally give it a try.

The six-or-seven imprisoned Metroid fans will inevitably start comparing the two most popular entries in the series: Super Metroid and Metroid Prime. To me, Super Metroid is all about its scenario. Finely tuned and expertly paced, “Super” is a game I play for that jolt of the Metroid formula that currently makes up ½ of every game that comes out nowadays. But Metroid Prime is about atmosphere. The reflections of Samus’ face in the visor dotted by raindrops from above. The movement of fauna, shade & various enemies flowing through every screen. Honestly while I’m writing this the Phendrana Drifts theme is playing in my head.

Metroid Prime isn’t as precise as Super Metroid, but its ambiance is striking. This presentation, already beautiful on the GameCube, is only enhanced on Switch. Despite very little of the original Prime team still being at Retro Studios, you can tell this one was crafted with an enormous amount of respect for the source material. It gets the rare yet coveted distinction for a remaster/make/release of looking just as you remembered it your first go around, yet looking obviously much better when compared side by side. It does well to continue the legacy of this momentous game, to hopefully expose its importance to more than just the five-or-six of us currently jailed. 

By the way, the one other guy who didn’t grow up with Prime? He was chatting our ear off about the “subversive excellence” of Metroid Fusion or something. How “forcing linearity in an otherwise exploration heavy series can make you feel weak and frightened” and “it has a much tighter difficulty curve than any other title in the series.” Something like that anyway, couldn’t really hear over the all-time noogie numbers I was putting up while he was stuck in a headlock.

GAME I'M MOST MAD AT MYSELF FOR NOT FINISHING: Outer Wilds (PC)

Is it a me thing? Am I not the type of guy who would truly appreciate a game like Outer Wilds? Spoilers ahead, obviously. Don’t read this part if any part of your bones and back wants to try this one out, dead serious.

Because what a HOOK this game gets you in. The first time the sun engulfed my puny little carcass, the previous session reverses itself right in front of me and the world just completely reset itself? Astonishment, blown away? Other thoughts like that. Conceptually, Outer Wilds is a knockout. The obvious point of comparison is Majora’s Mask, but the mystery at the heart of Outer Wilds is a lot less simple than Find The Four Giants. It’s a weaving thread binding all the game’s planets, but one you must piece together largely yourself.

Which made dropping it back in April and trying to come back to it hard. I probably just have to totally restart it and really really focus on what each little node of information is saying. Or just use a guide or something idk

LEAST FAVORITE GAMING EXPERIENCE OF THE YEAR: Sonic Frontiers: The Final Horizon (PC)

Ok this title might be hyperbole a bit since I didn’t completely hate it, I just wanted an excuse to write about SONIC AGAIN! I LOVE BLUE MEN!!

Speaking of hyperbole, how about the reception of Sonic Frontiers? Seems like everyone was busting their loads over this one last year. I get it, to a certain extent. As BlazeHedgehog said in his one-hour dissection of the game this year, food tastes better when you’re hungry, and us poor Sonic fans are starving. I don’t think Frontiers is perfect by anyone’s standards, but it at the very least leaves a decent yet slightly rocky foundation for future games to knock it out of the park with.

The Final Horizon is “future games”, I guess. And uh, yeah this one didn’t knock it out of the park. Kinda bunted? Maybe tripped over first base or something idk how to make better baseball analogies than this. 

My main disappointment comes from the three new playable hedgehog/hedgehog adjacent creatures. Maybe it's my fault actually, since I had this wonderful idea in my head of how sick it would be for Knuckles or even Amy to have fully decked-out combat trees. Instead, these new characters are actually terrible at combat and you shouldn’t even try. They’re pretty specifically geared towards platforming challenges, unfortunate since all of them feel pretty miserable to control. My original review of this update was “Knuckles controls like an asshole” but they kind of fixed the controls so my review has been updated to “Knuckles controlled like an asshole* *when it launched therefore when everyone played it Knuckles controlled like an asshole”. 

Despite my gripes with base game Frontiers, at the very least it felt like a game that was rigorously playtested. Not polished by any means (for crying out loud they never fixed the pop-in), but most platforming challenges had a certain sense of flow to them that made the open zone concept work. Final Horizon does not feel properly playtested. Levels are far less scripted, which would be a great thing in an engine that didn’t feel this busted. The difficulty spikes up seemingly at random, with the three titan boss rush on hard being probably the most unfair challenge in a Sonic game that I can remember. Even the final boss (which features one cool scene where blue eyed Super Sonic gets shot out of a gun) requires a target switching mechanic the game never expects you to know or use by that point, unless I’m an idiot. Which is always the fear.

Ah well, at least it was free. And I don’t want this to be a sign for Sonic team to ditch the open zone for the next game. I do think it can work, but the main gameplay engine needs an overhaul. Not even a Sonic Utopia masturbatory “iT sHoUlD jUsT cOnTroL lIkE tHe ClAsSicS” style control necessarily, just one that feels inherently fun to run around an empty field in. Which is easy to say, I guess. “Make the Sonic feel more funner to control,” the critic says. “Allso give me a cheeseburger “

Congratulations on winning your oddly specific category awards, previously stated video game products! Time for the top ten which was going to be a top sixteen but I’m already incredibly late on this so I’d rather not write about six extra games sorry.

10. Spyro 2: Ripto’s Rage (PS1/PC)

The intro to Spyro 2 was fun all three times I played it this year. Once on original hardware at a friend’s house, another time on my own through a PS1 emulator, and a final time through the Reignited trilogy remake. Reignited was where I played through Spyro 1 for the first time some years ago, and although the Spyro 3 remake is allegedly trash (according to my one friend who learned how to read by playing Spyro 3 at age 3), the remake of Ripto’s Rage is pretty OK by my less demanding standards. Plus it ran well on Steam Deck for whatever that’s worth.

Thankfully, playing the intro to Spyro 2 three times was actually a worthwhile thing to do! Unlike Spyro 1 which basically just lets you 100% complete every level the first time you go through it, Spyro 2 requires abilities and unlocks from later levels in the game to get every orb & collectable. Every time I replayed the various levels in Summer Forest, I learned which levels (even areas of levels) I should avoid until I learned how to climb up ladders or whatever. It is much more enjoyable on a replay to keep these types of things fresh in your mind rather than coming back to it years later as a grayed & tired old hag.

While I’m not as story-pilled as a lot of my gaming peers, even in simple games I appreciate when it feels like your actions have weight to them. Completing every level in Spyro 2 isn’t just about collecting the shiny objects and touching the top of the flagpole. Each area has its own particular race of organism coming to you with an issue caused by Ripto. And while it isn’t super complex, your actions through the level are helping that particular group of living beings. When going through the entire game, and thereby helping all of these groups with their minor or major little quibbles, it’s pretty satisfying to look back on once the game comes to a close. That element is, I think, what makes a crusty little game like Spyro 2 still hold up in the face of a very different world.

9. FEZ (PC)

For a while, I didn’t want to like FEZ. I had it on Steam, but only as a result of a Humble Bundle, back when you could specify how much of your bundle purchase went to each specific game creator. And I will never forget looking at Phil Fish and his stupid face, gleefully pulling his contribution slider allllll the way to the bottom, probably capping out at $0.01.

That was 2014. 10 years later, I have two thoughts. 1. Phil Fish’s controversy feels very very trite in comparison to what the internet or, fuck, even the ENTIRE WORLD has turned into. And 2. Phil Fish is a genius.

People were saying it at the time but I just didn’t want to believe them. And I probably didn’t have the capacity to wrap my head around what FEZ was doing. It’s an entry into what I want to define right now as an “unraveling” game (remember this, it will come up later!). On the surface, FEZ is simple. It even has simple graphics! You’re a simple man, living in a simple town, with only a jump button to your name. Then, another layer. A Fez, perhaps, on the top of your gay little head. In gameplay terms, the perspective now shifts when you press the triggers, I think all Fezes do that? Anyway, fun little platforming gimmick for a little 2D game, right?

Wrong. FEZ is a 3D game. Your position in the world is a little tricky to manipulate, but it is mapped in a 3D space. You can even view the world in 3D once you beat the game and get sunglasses. I think all sunglasses do that? Anyway, this allows for some inventive puzzle solving through trying to figure out where to jump and where to shift perspective to make your way out of the room. Can be pretty tricky, but ultimately achievable, right?

Wrong. The puzzles at the end of FEZ are not possible. Literally, I think. The last puzzle is not possible without datamines and brute-forcing it. But for the puzzles that are possible, the amount of honest to god code cracking you need to do at the end of the game is not what I was expecting. I had to bring out an honest to god notebook made of paper from wood and write down my interpretation of the game’s little language. Other games certainly take inspiration from the unraveling layers of FEZ,

8. TUNIC (PC)

Hope you were paying attention! Thank god this game comes right here on the list so I don’t have to test your attention span. TUNIC is also an unraveling type game, in sort of the exact same way to FEZ actually. It appears to be a gorgeous yet sort of simple claymation sorta interpretation of the original Legend of Zelda. You’ve got a couple a silly lookin enemies, item pickups like bombs and potions, you get to explore an overworld and some dungeons. It’s Zelda 1, right?

Wrong. TUNIC is Dark Souls. Beyond just being able to fat roll, enemy encounters can get brutally difficult, and they all respawn when you die. Upon death, you drop a bit of your coins on the ground in a ghost that will stick around when you come back to that same spot. You save and respawn at a fire. Now, comparing a game to Dark Souls is kind of like the most overdone thing in games writing at the point, but it definitely helps that you can get a sense of that original Zelda formula in all of FromSoft’s games. So TUNIC aping those trends feels like a good match, I think. From here, progression might start to make sense. You travel from save room to save room, clearing dungeons and beating bosses. Eventually you’ll find a really big one, and the game is over, right?

Wrong. TUNIC is a game about not being able to understand English. The story is pretty well known at this point I think, but the sole developer of TUNIC was inspired by playing through the notoriously obtuse-without-a-manual Zelda 1 without being able to understand the words of said manual. In TUNIC, you will find pieces of a very similar looking manual all throughout the world in no particular order and in a language you cannot read. Eventually in TUNIC you’ll hit a wall where you have no idea what to do or where to go. And suddenly, you look at a single page of the manual in a slightly different way, maybe even with your head tilted a little bit more to the right. And suddenly it all makes sense. 

There’s another way in which this game unravels but it’s sort of like the impossible puzzles in FEZ and I haven’t even begun to try and wrap my head around it. I beat this game with the bad ending and I still had a jolly ole time with it. Very much my sort of game this one is. No spoken dialogue, story communicated entirely through gameplay, and hard as balls bosses. Now if only this one featured a funny little dwarf….

7. Deep Rock Galactic (PC)

Me and my friends cycled through a lot of different games this year. Still wrought in grief over the loss of TF2 and Overwatch, I think. I was kind of the outside guy in these multiplayer romps, as I am burdened with two jobs and game at weird times of the night, but I got enough time in each of them to get the idea. But of all the multiplayer games I dabbled in, the one that I am so sad I wasn’t around to play more is Deep Rock Galactic.

DRG is immediately charming. Playing as a stupid drunk dwarf is kind of inherently a little ridiculous and Ghost Ship leans into that hard. There’s of course the dedicated ROCK AND STONE button, but did you know there’s a dedicated coughing button? Not even loud obnoxious coughing either; subtle, painful coughing that feels like a burden to deal with (don’t @ me I know it’s not supposed to be a coughing button). The hub of DRG is honestly the most fun part of the game, I think. Just spending time with the buds fucking around with barrels and getting drunk on exploding IPAs is quality stuff. 

I only played Driller, I think? The rest of the characters are probably fun though. I just liked being able to serve that oh-so-important purpose of pressing M1 in a direction and overheating by accident, as well as using my flamethrower to hurt my teammates. And using my C4 to hurt my teammates. I’m sure they all hate playing with me since I suck ass, but it’s hard for me to get mad at myself when I’m bad at the game since the stakes feel pretty low. Co-op games like this always appeal to me more than PVP for that exact reason, and I hope I can put DRG on this same list next year when I’m a little bit more seasoned.

DRG also fucked up my reflexes for every other game as I always want to press F to throw a flare into a dark room. Even in real life! 

6. Dying Light (PC)

Another multiplayer game, although this one isn’t really originally intended to be multiplayer. This game flew under the radar for me for a long time until one of my friends randomly suggested we play it co-op one day and we all happened to have it for free on the Critically Acclaimed Epic Games Launcher. First thing to address here, this game is shockingly seamless as a multiplayer game considering it’s obviously a single player game primarily. Ok, maybe not quite seamless since all the player characters are the same generic white guy protagonist. At least you can wear a clown outfit? But the connection never dips, you’re never kicked out for no reason, everyone gets to watch a cutscene at the same time. Great co-op experience overall.

Honestly, the story and scenario of Dying Light is very uninteresting to me. We haven’t even beat the main story yet. In fact, we go out of our way to not do the main story and just focus on side content as much as we can. Because the core gameplay of Dying Light is fantastic. Again, this game completely flew under the radar for me and I feel like the same thing happened to most people I know. So I was shocked at how good the game feels. Jumping from roof to roof rarely doesn’t work once you know what you’re doing thanks to the generous ledge grab system. And once you get a grappling hook? Bitch, every game should have a grappling hook. 

Combat is where the game really shines though. We set the difficulty to hard right away, which initially made it practically impossible to kill even the most basic type of zombie. If you’re just trying to whack the undead with a simple melee weapon, you’re probably going to get your health drained in an instant. Obviously you get better weapons, even guns towards the back half of the game. But you don’t want to use those all the time, especially guns since they make a ton of noise and alert a ton of infected. So it’s when you start unlocking cool-ass moves like the little kick you do to finish off downed enemies skulls, tackling zombies to the floor, vaulting over their heads to get a quick move on, even a whole ass dropkick to send them tumbling into a spike wall that Dying Light starts becoming fun as hell to just run around in. 

Dying Light is also tied with Zelda Tears of the Kingdom as having the most “dark” “darkness” in a game I played this year. You straight up cannot see anything at night in this game, and if you turn on your flashlight you might wake up your mom. She’ll grab and kill you!

5. Lethal Company (PC)

What makes writing about Lethal Company hard is that, in a way, it’s undeniable. There’s no wonder why this became one of 2023’s best sellers practically overnight. Its charm is just that apparent. But why? To me, it’s how it straddles the line.

Obviously, Lethal Company is hilarious. It’s baked into the animations, with a jerky running animation that radiates Scooby-Doo-like energy and the single greatest dancing animation in all of gaming. Despite picking up items to later sell being the whole point of the game, they pack in so many silly little trinkets that are hard to separate yourself from; some can even make sounds! The first time I ever picked up the airhorn was on video, and I popped off harder for that than anything else this year. You may find yourself barrelling off the edge of a railing to your death because you thought you could jump over a gap with a big screw in your hand. Lethal Company is not only trying to make you laugh, but gives you the tools to get into a situation that’ll make your friends laugh. 

But Lethal Company is also terrifying. Especially when you have no idea what you’re doing. Deep within the halls lurk otherworldly abominations with behavior that isn’t easy to parse your first time through. Some can be easy enough to avoid like the loot bugs and spiders. But others force you to change the way you move through the level, like the Bracken that requires you to constantly look behind you or else have your neck suddenly snapped, or the Coil Head that requires constant eye-contact or else have your neck suddenly snapped. If the terror was just contained to the halls, that would be one thing. But every Lethal Company player remembers their first time seeing the Forest Keeper, silently tip-toeing your way just out of sight else get eaten alive. You can certainly learn the patterns of each of these hostile entities to make progression easier, but keeping them all in mind while juggling the keys, ducks, and generators in your hands can often be too much to handle.

Despite all the horror elements, though, I never really get too scared playing Lethal Company? At least never for too long. And that’s the beauty of it - the line that the game is teetering on between comedy and terror. Even in observing the objectively very dangerous Bracken, it’s hard not to laugh at how sheepish he looks when backing away from you. When killed suddenly by a big dog outside your ship, the tension breaks once you realize that your friends are going to have to deal with that same dog and laugh as they die with you. Ultimately, Lethal Company’s charm lives and dies by how well it executes its two polar-opposite fundamental elements. 

If updates can give more of a reason to keep playing the game after you learn the trick to each of the monsters, then this will be a multiplayer game for the books. That and add in suit customization bro, like come on the rack is right there!!

4. Super Mario Bros. Wonder (NSW)

If I was 7, Super Mario Bros. Wonder would be my favorite game ever. I am actively envious of the kids who get to grow up playing this game. Mario always hits different when you’re first getting into this method of experiencing media. Learning the fundamentals of controlling Mario is a gaming memory I will always cherish.The timing required to stomp on blocks and enemies, juggling the power-ups required to get certain secrets in a level, and the flow state you reach in jaunting through the familiar sights and sounds are baked into my gaming DNA. 

As such, I found Super Mario Bros. Wonder to be very easy. There are some harder levels sprinkled throughout the game, but in a year that I beat every Super Meat Boy chapter without dying for fun, those didn’t give me much trouble. With that, plus the sheer number of Mario games I’ve played over the past 15 years of my life, I ate this game’s lunch and didn’t break a sweat. It’s probably unfair to knock a Mario game for being easy, but considering I’m not the only person who’s broached this criticism, I think it has enough merit. But again, I am envious of those who do not have this level of skill. To the kids wiping their greasy spaghetti hands on their Switch and Joy Cons, experiencing Mario for the first time because you liked Chris Pratt’s performance in the Mario movie. If this is your first time, this will leave an unforgettable impression.

Course-clear Mario games like Bros 3, World, 3D World, NSMB, and a bunch of other words and letter combinations are built on gimmicks. Gimmick is often used in a derogatory sense in gaming discussion circles to talk about shallow, meaningless fluff added to a game just to add a pinch of variety and extend run time. But as Mario has proven time and time again, gimmicks can be good, actually. It allows each level to stay fresh, with new ideas constantly being thrown at you with no time given to let any of it grow old. Mario Bros. Wonder is built off this same foundation, but goes absolutely nuts with it. The first part of every level is designed as normal, with some set of enemies, power-ups or other obstacles being presented at an easy pace. But as soon as you Touch Fuzzy, Get Dizzy, that gimmick is either flipped on its head or is magnified to the highest extent possible. When you allow your development team to design a game for years with no deadline, this is the type of experience you can create. 

Also, this should go without saying, but this is probably the best looking game I’ve played all year. It doesn’t do anything crazy technically (like this probably could have been done on the Wii?), but each screenshot is blooming with color, flavor, and life. Shouts out in particular to the new Luigi model. I have no idea what specifically they did to his proportions, but DO NOT change it. This is perfect. Look at him. Perfect.

3. The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom (NSW)

Hilariously, this is the second Nintendo game in a row on the top half of this list that I’m going to spend half the review bitching about. Because TOTK is the exact same as Breath of the Wild. No, not in the way you’re thinking, although that is somewhat part of it. Not because the world is the same, the overall presentation is the same, the areas are largely the same, the combat is the same, the structure of the game is pretty much the same. Not any of that, rather that this game shares BOTW’s biggest problem - it gets worse the more you think about it.

Because while I was playing it, it felt like the coolest thing ever. Ultrahand is a marvel of design and programming, obviously. Should go without saying that the potential of ultrahand is boundless, and that week where everyone was posting their Zelda creations was very fun. The abilities in general are so ingenious that they actively tricked me into playing the same 100 hour game again. Ascend in particular is one of those things that just breaks your brain and makes you want to do it in every single game that you play afterwards. The first time I discovered the depths, after not getting spoiled on it and not noticing it at all in the game’s trailers, made me feel the same magic as those opening hours of Breath of the Wild. It also shares a spot with Dying Light for having the “darkest” “darkness” in video gaming. Congrats! The awards in the mail. And after what I believe to be one of the greatest endings a Zelda game has ever had, with a killer final fight and that moment with Link and Zelda at the end, I was convinced I had played my favorite game ever.

But of course, you cannot make these sorts of decisions on your favorite X thing ever in a day, a week, even a year. It grows with time. And over time, I had a stark realization that Tears of the Kingdom didn’t really fix many of the issues I had with Breath of the Wild, even if I thought they did at the time. Item degradation was annoying the first go around, but the second time, especially considering all the crafting you have to do to get good weapons, feels especially tedious. The story is just as daft and pointless, even if it ends on a better note. The “Sacred Stone?” repetition has already been memed to death at this point but it’s notable how I didn’t even notice it at first since I had already long since tuned out of the story. Dungeons still don’t hit the same as in previous Zeldas, with the precise almost Metroid-like design of items locking progression not even attempted for a second time. Even the depths, which enamored me so deeply when I first found them, gradually became a slog to travel through as its visual repetition and lack of unique content started to dawn on me.

When I was playing Breath of the Wild for the first time, in a life that feels like it was ages and ages ago, I distinctly remember being in awe of the world they had created and the joy I had in exploring it. Even though I had my faults with the game, as I kept thinking about it, that lasting impression is what sticks out so many years later. Will the same thing happen to Tears of the Kingdom? Will its strengths persist in my head in a decade? Or will its blemishes keep it from true greatness in my mind?

One thing’s for sure: I never want to see a god damn Korok again. At least in this game you can create a device that sets them on fire, smushes them with a giant hammer, then catapults them over a mountain into a bottomless pit. Kinda fucked up you can do that…

2. Pizza Tower (PC)

Pizza Tower is fucked up game made by a fucked up man. How else can I explain the absolutely batshit insane ideas this game throws at you? The first level is called John Gutter. There’s another level in this game called “Oh Shit!” where you run around in the sewer. Mort the Chicken from the PS1 game Mort the Chicken returns to grab onto your head and force you to do double jumps. You’re forced to play golf. There’s a level where you get jumpscared by FNAF pizza topping animatronics and at the end you get to Shoot Them With A Shotgun. One of the bosses is a fucked up version of yourself that’s actually made of liquid and is secretly just a brain with eyes. You’re italian. 

I could go on. Despite my cursed Nintendo centric brain, I’ve never dabbled into Wario Land, which Pizza Tower obviously takes a lot of inspiration from. But when looking at gameplay of those older games after finishing this one, I don’t think I would really get a whole lot out of it. Pizza Tower is basically those Wario Land games made by a guy with as sick of a brain as I do, drawing all the assets with MSPaint and cramming each level with crazy bullshit and fun gameplay ideas. Those other games would probably feel kind of lacking in comparison. Like Mario Wonder, the levels in Pizza Tower are gimmicky by design, introducing one-off gameplay ideas and passing the ball to the next idea as soon as possible. So why is Pizza Tower higher than Mario Wonder?

Because Pizza Tower is an anime. When completing each level, you’re ranked from a scale of D to S, same as Sonic. At least that’s what it seems at first, though, as there is another rank. The coveted P-Rank is locked behind not just a perfect run collecting all the pizza toppings through the level, but looping back around and racing through that same level again. All within the time limit given to you when smacking the John at the end of each level. As you can probably tell, this is fucked up. Nothing else in Pizza Tower, not even the batshit level ideas, can reach how fucked up getting a P-Rank is in any level of this game. I’ve only gotten two I think? But Christ, what a rush it is. Pushing your familiarity with the controls and the level like this, reaching a glorious flow state is exactly where I love to be in a 2D platformer. And when I see that sick as hell anime OP ass P-Rank animation, I reach COMPLETE GAMING EUPHORIA.

I am so excited to jump back into this one once I have the time and give this the thorough beating it deserves. Just like how Peppino has been thoroughly beaten….. By The Cruel Hand He’s Been Dealt Through The Struggles Of Maintaining Your Own Pizza Business In A Horrible Capitalist Nightmare………

..

1. Pikmin 4 (NSW)

Hell yeah Baby!!! Pikmimn 4 Sweep! If you don’t play Pikmin 4 I’ll KILL YOu you stupid piece of shit!! 

Pikmin is doomed to be a niche. It’s got a bunch of cute little men walking around and a circular dog that you jump on the back of. But it is so brutally punishing that kids are almost certainly going to bounce off it. And the strategy-heads that would undoubtedly enjoy what it has to offer almost certainly won’t even give it a chance because of the cute little men and the circular dog. This dichotomy, of course, is why I love Pikmin.

I began the year in preparation for Pikmin 4 to finally play the original Pikmin on GameCube. Previously, I had one playthrough of Pikmin 3 but it honestly didn’t do all too much for me for whatever reason. So I wanted to go all the way back to the most busted up, brutal game in the series so I could understand the appeal. Within the first hour of play, all of my Pikmin had either been drowned or crushed by a giant Bulborb because I had no idea what I was doing. And that game has a strict time limit, so you can only fuck up so many times before you get a genuine game over. 

So what’s the appeal? Well Nintendo finally found a word for it in the marketing for Pikmin 4 that probably doesn’t exist in English so they just said fuck it and used the Japanese word anyway: “Dandori 段”. Basically being able to manage your tasks and resources in a timely fashion to reach maximum efficiency. Pikmin 1 forces you to figure this out to some degree or else you’re not getting home. And with the limited scope of that game’s levels, Pikmin types, and enemies, I think it’s a great way to learn. Each Pikmin has a clearly defined use case that directly corresponds with their color, and the obstacles in your path are easy to understand in relation to those basic abilities. Need a powerhouse that can take quick work of this giant beetle? Red is your go to. A ship part is stuck high up? The lanky and tall yellows are your guys. Water? Blue. You get the gist.

The problem with Pikmin 1? And every other Pikmin game for that matter? It’s not enough. It needs more. I’m cool with short games but Pikmin 1 can be beaten in like 3 hours. Pikmin 3 is like 10. Usually more content isn’t what makes a game “gooder” but I do genuinely think that the short run time of previous games made this idea of Dandori harder to tap into on a single playthrough. How did they fix this in Pikmin 4? 

WEll, my friend, they did this through VARIETY OF MODES!

The main story of Pikmin 4 is basically the 10 hour tutorial. A gentle romp through all the major areas, some largely easy enemies, no game-long time limit, heavy tutorializing, an introduction to all the Pikmin types, basically baby’s first Pikmin. Even if you only play the story, you have so much to sink your teeth into. The above ground areas are as fun as ever, with the addition of Oatchi as a Pikmin platform AND a way to introduce platforming into the Pikmin formula being such an obvious and fun addition. Caves return from Pikmin 2 as a break from the time-limit imposed by the rest of the game, allowing for some tighter combat sections and the satisfaction of scouring an entire area and getting 100% item completion. Dandori challenges scattered throughout the levels provide a taste of that hyper-focused time limit gameplay from Pikmin 1, forcing a greater degree of focus and understanding of the mechanics and design than in most of the rest of the game. Nighttime missions morph the usual Pikmin gameplay into more of a tower survival type of thing, protecting key areas while using the uniquely powerful new glow Pikmin. And each of the major areas all being in the garden of just somebody's house that you THEN get to go inside in what is by far the most unique level in a Pikmin game is some serious chef’s kiss type beat.

So that’s all well and good for the base game. But the post game? The post game? This is what takes Pikmin 4 to legendary heights. I CAN’T EVEN WRITE HERE everything I want to say because I KNOW YOU HAVEN’T PLAYED THIS GAME, and it was so joyous when I had these experiences blind. What I will say is this - this idea of Dandori and your understanding of it will be tested in some of the late game Dandori challenges. Entirely optional content by the way, nothing needed if you aren’t fucking with the idea of being an ancient Dandori master or anything. But this is the type of thing I live for in games. Mechanics and design being stretched to their limit, pushing your boundaries and forcing you to execute nearly perfectly to get the win. Usually uber-hard platformers are all that get this type of reaction out of me. Maybe I should be a strategy gamer? Am I finally ascending to be the Total War XCom Starcraft freakazoid I was always meant to be?

Maybe it was the surprise in how much I was enjoying Pikmin 4 for my entire 40 hour playthrough that gets it this high on the list. A marriage of gorgeous presentation, compelling mechanics, and content out the ass that no other game this year quite reached for me. DLC for this game is a must buy. Honestly, I might just play this game again some time soon, I need to make sure my feelings about it aren’t a fluke. 

And most importantly, YOU (yes, YOU, not the general ""you"") need to play this game. I DO NOT CARE if you have a Switch. DOWNLOAD THIS GAME FROM NSW2U.COM AND DOWNLOAD THE YUZU EMULATOR AND SEARCH ON GOOGLE “Nintendo Switch Keys Download” TO PLAY THIS GAME FOR FREE ON YOUR COMPUTER. Maybe you won’t even love it but DAMN IT I do. I’m glad Pikmin got another chance and for that chance to be the most feature-packed and gloriously executed game in the series by far. Hope this isn’t the end for our Pick-ed Men… Hope they don’t throw my colorful men in IP jail for 10 years again… Hope I can say hi to my good friend Olli mare one more time before I’m old and gray………

Thats it ok bye

[lokisprettygirl]

This is the last one I promise 😂.

The request was, the reader has been having issues about self worth because she's not being very productive and she's struggling with work. So, she just randomly falls asleep without getting work done or being able to go on dates with Loki and after some times he snaps and calls her useless so she breaks down and tells him everything and he comforts her maybe and they have a break or something. Please add your idea into it if you decide to write this. Basically you can change the whole story line and just keep it loosely based on this😅. Thank you!!!! And I'm sorry if this made you anyhow uncomfortable. Love you💝

🧁

Honestly I just went with it. I know the feeling you described and it's the worst. I hope you'll enjoy it ❤️💚🥰 love you dear.

Warning : Feeling of hopelessness

Incompetent, that's the word that popped up in your head whenever you felt..useless. And it happened more often than you could remember. You'd have days where you kicked your assignments, finished your deadlines and felt good about yourself but then there were those days when everything got too much and all you wanted to do was disappear from this world, you wanted to hide so you wouldn't have to work anymore. 

Having anxiety made it worse for you because you were always afraid of not meeting the deadlines, you hated that word truly. This isn't how you imagined your life would be like when you were 10, you were supposed to have it all figured out by now.

When you met Loki he brought a sense of peace and comfort along with him, which went against the title of mischief and chaos they had adorned him with. He brought anything but chaos in your life. He was kind, sweet, caring and he was the one you have been waiting to meet all your life. 

But that feeling passed too, as work got busy and the time you spent with him lessened, it strained your relationship with him. Finals were close too, and you couldn't handle everything at once, work was too much and you had no time to even sit back and breathe properly, let alone date a literal god from another realm. 

Dates after dates were cancelled because you neither had the time nor you had the energy to dress up for him after a long day, all of this made you feel awful as well, you didn't want to drive him away but you just couldn't stay strong anymore. All you wanted to do was fall asleep and hibernate for a while, maybe things would get done magically when you wake up. 

You groaned as you heard the doorbell ring and it woke you up from a beautiful dream you were having about Loki and the life you'd live if you weren't..you. 

When you opened the door it was him, he looked sullen.

"I brought dinner, were you sleeping?" He asked you as he noticed the sleepy marks on your face, normally he found the sight adorable but today that only pissed him off because you cancelled on him for the umpteenth time telling him that you had to finish work projects.

"I just took a nap" you mumbled to him as you closed the door,

"A nap? You didn't come with me to my brother's birthday party for a nap? I wanted them all to meet you finally" his eyes teared up as he spoke and as much as it made you feel even more grumpy, you understood his hurt. This is the fifth date you have cancelled in the last two months. 

"Soo? I was tired, I had no energy to dress up and enjoy a party with your superhero friends " you snapped at him and he chuckled, he placed the box of takeout down on the table and walked past you, mumbling something that finally broke you down into a million pieces.

"You know what, I have better things to do anyways, this is fucking useless" 

The word, that's what broke you down, you never wanted to hear it from him of all people, even though he didn't say it to you directly but more so the situation, you knew it was a jab at you, and as much as you didn't want to blame him, it really did hurt when he got so angry with you. 

As he heard you crying he turned around to look at you, he regretted snapping at you as soon as he did, and when he saw you collapse down on your knees, his heart truly broke for you. He never wanted to hurt you like this but he was tired and hurt of waiting on you while you just cancelled on him at the last moment.

"Y/n" he walked towards you and picked you up instantly in his arms then he made you sit down on the couch as you cried and cried.

"Hey I'm sorry, I am sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to.." 

"No you did, you did mean to say it loki and I don't blame you, I am useless, I can't even handle my life, my work or myself for that matter, I don't know why I thought that I deserved a happy relationship, I don't deserve it" you sobbed as he hugged you tightly. He has been asking you to share your worries with him but the stubborn mule inside you didn't want to bother him with your issues, you should have known that it would backfire someday. 

"Okay first of all I didn't address you as useless, I was frustrated with the situation darling so please don't ..I am sorry I really am, it just hurts me when you keep..when you keep cancelling on our plans, I love you I really do and you know how hard all of this has been for me too so when I need you and you're not there, I just take it personally. What is happening here darling? Please talk to meee" He asked you as his eyes welled up too and that made you sob even harder, he deserved all the love in the world after everything he has been through and you were not giving him that.

"I just..I'm so overwhelmed, managing studies with work is killing me and I don't think I'm equipped to handle all of this, I just feel like disappearing at times when things get too hectic and I know I can't disappear so that makes it so much worse..i just ..I'm sorry loki but this is all too much" 

You broke down in his arms and he caressed your back gently, trying to comfort you. Even though his own heart was breaking, he knew you needed him at the moment. Mortals put too much pressure on themselves to have a perfect life and he didn't understand it very well but he knew that's what you wanted to do at the moment, your work was your priority and he didn't want to take that away from you.

"Why didn't you tell me hmm? When did I stop being your friend and became just that boyfriend that you felt you couldn't share your worries with?" You looked at him wide-eyed as he said that. 

"Lokii I ..I don't want to lose you or your love or your affection and all the ways you make me happy..but I don't think I'm treating you the way you deserve to be treated right now" your lips trembled as you spoke so he kissed your forehead

"You won't lose me darling, I'll always be here I promise, now I need you to stop crying and take a deep breath for me okay?" He caressed your back until your sobs stopped coming in and then he fed you. You both talked about the situation and decided that it would be best to not continue the romantic relationship as long as you were still continuing your studies and managing work with it.

It was the wrong time, right person type of situation and it broke his heart to let you go as his girlfriend but as promised he didn't leave you completely or abandon you like you were afraid he would, Any other guy would have just given up but not him. Once a week he'd end up in your apartment with a box of take out and few drinks so you could unwind and unload your problems on him. He stayed in touch and he never allowed you to feel as if he had abandoned you completely. 

After your final year exams finished you wanted to celebrate and only one person came to mind with whom you wanted to spend the time with so you picked up your phone and called him, he was there in an hour.

He noticed that you dressed up for the Little celebration and that made him smile.

"You look beautiful my darling" he mumbled as he hugged you, you sighed as his cologne filled your senses. You have missed him being yours, there was a time when you had this god to call your own and you made him drift away from you. Your eyes teared up as you pulled away from the hug and that made him worry too

"What's wrong darling?" He asked you softly as he cupped your cheeks 

"Nothing I just..I miss you..I miss us" he smiled as you said that.

"I have been here all this time, I just took the pressure off your back, the immense pressure of dating, you didn't need that with everything else you had going" your eyes teared up more as he said that. As his words swelled your heart. He was too kind for his own good.

"I don't deserve you lo..I let go of you when things got hard, I wasn't there when you needed me" you sobbed so he cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead.

"No you didn't..I did, it was my idea remember? You just didn't know how to handle me and I don't blame you" he chuckled and that made you smile

"I feel so selfish right now " you placed your head down on his chest and his eyes teared up more. Maybe things will get back to normal again, he has definitely missed sleeping the nights with you in his arms and doing all the things that comes with it. 

"It's not selfish to pick yourself darling, you needed time to work on yourself and I needed it too, when things are meant to happen and people are destined to be together, nothing can keep them apart for long and like I said I was always here, I'll always be here"

You kissed him as soon as he finished his words, life was harder than you thought it could ever be and even though you knew insecurities and pressure will get to you again, you also knew that with him by your side you'll make it and you'll be okay. 

You both will be okay. All you knew was that you never wanted to let him go again no matter what happens.

[finelinevogue]

could you do some angsty smut please??

oh hell yeah we can. this is going to be 70srockstar!harry with roadie!y/n eekkkk! okay have fun;

Being the girlfriend of the most famous, golden boy rockstar was the craziest rollercoaster you’d ever ride.

For the past 6 months you’ve been touring with the one and only Harry Styles, living your life between helping on tour, drinking endless amounts of wine and smoking a hell of a lot of weed. The job had come past you at the perfect moment. Your dad happened to be best friends with the tour manager, Jeff Azoff, who’d spoken of their being a job opening for a roadie. You were employed to help set up the musical equipment and test out the instruments before the act went on at night, falling in love for the man you roadied for was just an add on. A beautiful bonus.

It was a lot more pressure being Harry’s girlfriend than people thought though. There was so much pressure to act a certain way and present yourself another way. Harry was so idolised and craved by millions and it put pressure on you to be a certain person for him. You loved him so much and you were so scared that he might one day realise that there was so much better than you - at least in your eyes. Someone extroverted. Someone musically talented. Someone who wasn’t a virgin.

Harry had never pressured you into anything sexual unless you were ready. Of course he was notorious for being an above star rating, when it came fo sex - thanks to all the articles published by the many men and women, sometimes both together, he had slept with. The sex reputation went hand-in-hand with his rock-n-roll aesthetic, so that part of him would never change. You’d only been with Harry for 4 of those 6 months, managing to fall for him very quickly, so you wondered just how he was coping without having had sex for that long. He usually had a different person each night to take backstage after his concert to play with how he wanted, hence how he built his reputation, but since you there had been no one.

Sex was such a big thing for Harry though, so you couldn’t help but feel like you were letting him down.

Currently, you were sat on his bed on the tour bus reading an article that had been published about your boyfriend last week. Your heart strings tugged as you read one section of the interview.

Interviewer: The new album, tell me about it.

Harry: It’s coming on slowly yeah. Just want this one to be perfect so, taking my time.

Interviewer: What would you say your biggest inspiration is for writing?

Harry: Changed on every project, to be honest man. Sometimes it’s about past relationships. Sometimes it’s about issues i’m going through. A lot of the time it’s about sex!

Interviewer: Yeah, dude, I have noticed that like every other song is about sex. Is that something you’re quite open about?

Harry: I think sex can be either something so beautiful or so passionate. Don’t believe in sad sex! But, um, yeah i’m always really honest lyrically when it comes to the songs about sex and I hope others see it as that too.

Interviewer: No it definitely does! Thanks Harry for your time and, um, keep on having sex so that third album breaks even more records!

Harry: Will do man!

It was easy to understand why you were upset. Harry’s biggest inspiration wasn’t possible for this album, because you were too nervous to let him have you. All of you. You felt a burden, as if you were holding him back from living his life and creating something so amazing. His past two albums had been such hits for songs such as ‘She’ and ‘Only Angel’, which were inspired by the intimate times with past lovers. There would only be sad songs if he wrote an album without any spice.

That’s why as soon as Harry came back on the bus, dressed in shorts and a shirt that was unbuttoned to see his toned chest, you jumped him and kissed him like your life depended on him. He was taken back by surprise, but welcomed your lips nevertheless.

Pulling back he mumbled some words against your lips, “Well this is a nice welcome back gift.” He chuckled at the eagerness of your lips and let his hands roam over your body - from your neck to your waist and over your ass. This man knew what he was doing.

“Harry?” You whispered, stopping your kiss and looking at his beautiful swollen red lips. He was a sight for sore eyes.

“Yeah baby?” He kept himself close to you and you could feel the stiffie that he’d developed pressing against your front.

“Can we… I’m.. If you…”

“What baby? Can tell me anything, y’know that.”

“Wanna have sex with you.” You told him the most simple virgin way ever, your face heating up when you saw him smirking down at you. You’d screwed yourself over here and were getting all shy and embarrassed about it.

“Hey, no. Don’t hide from me,” He drew your face back to his and kept his eyes on yours to provide you some familiar comfort, “you sure?”

“Mhm, yes.” You nodded affirmatively.

“It might hurt a little, okay? First time means that your cute little pussy is going to be really tight. Don’t even know whether you’ll be able to take me.” He taunted you, cupping his hands to your cheeks and brushing his thumbs carefully over your skin to ease your tension.

“I w-will.” You moused out, wanting to be this person for him.

“‘Course you can. You’re my best girl and I know you’ll fit perfectly for me, yeah?” He rhetorically asked pushing you back to the bed and letting you flop there. You watched him as he discarded his clothes, following his lead, until you were both naked in front of each other. You’d been this far before, but this time it felt different. It felt more lustful and exposed and nerve-wracking.

Harry bent down and started to kiss you from your belly upwards, leaving kisses everywhere until he reached your jaw where he bit more than he kisses. He loved seeing his marks being left behind on your skin, proving to everyone that you were his and his alone. His hands found comfort ins kneading and squeezing your breasts like dough, loving the way they were so soft and yet so hard beneath his warm hands. As he found your lips and divulged in your sweet tastes, you slunk your hand down and grabbed ahold of his cock, pumping him a few times to get him primed. You felt the trickles of pre-cum drip from his tip and it only excited you even more.

Taking your lead, Harry pushed one of his hands in between your bodies and started playing with your wet cunt, paying extra attention to your needy clit. He knew you loved it when his fingers got rough, so that’s exactly how he played. His tongue was battling against yours, whilst you both stimulated pleasure to one another. The wet and beautiful sounds filled the room, heightening your arousal - Harry could feel it too, his fingers becoming wetter with every circle and pump of his fingers.

“You ready, baby?” He asked carefully, plucking his lips away from yours with a wet sounding smack. You already looked fucked out and he had barely done anything to you yet.

“Y-yes.” You stumbled, so excited yet so nervous. You were finally going to give Harry what he had been missing for so long and you were also going to let yourself go, and divulge in something new and potentially life-changing.

He leant back and rubbed his own cock for a few strokes, before lining the tip of it with your opening. He teased your entrance, making you bite your lip in anticipation. He smiled down at you and mouthed the words ‘I love you’ without any sounds leaving his lips, before you did the same. The head of his cock started to push in, but you didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did.

“Shit fuck, y’so tight baby. Need you to relax for me, okay?” He asked, pulling away so he could watch your body relax. You closed your eyes and took a deep breathe, reminding yourself that the best way to relax is not to think about the problem itself but oh how you’d feel when the problem’s fixed. You smiled and once Harry could see your shoulders un-tense, he, once again, pushed his cock into your opening. He hissed at the contact, obviously finding it so pleasurable even if it was only minimal contact, but you, you felt so much pain and soreness from absolutely nothing.

You couldn’t do this.

“It should just…” Harry tried a different angle, but your smile had disappeared and your whole range of emotions had resumed to flat and disappointed in yourself. “Maybe if I just..” Harry tried to hold your legs a little wider and guide his cock more firmly into your opening, but each time he couldn’t push past a certain point without your body rejecting him or your facial expressions telling him he should stop.

“St-stop Harry please.” You cried, bringing your hands up to cover your face as you let the tears flow freely. “Please stop.”

“O-okay. Just gonna…” And he slid out as much as he’d managed to get in, which was probably less than an inch. It hurt when he pulled away and your cunt felt like it was on fire. It stung and it didn’t feel right. You felt like a failure and an embarrassment.

You cried into your arms, letting harsh sobs take over your body. You chest felt tight and your eyes stung worse than your cunt did. God, you couldn’t even do one thing for him. You were the reason why he was having a hard time writing at the moment. You were the reason people would be disappointed to hear no sex inspired songs on the album. He might even have to use past experiences as inspiration, which made your heart curl with jealousy. You didn’t feel like you were enough for him, like you would ever be enough for him.

“I’m so sorry Harry,” You sat up from the bed, not wanting to look at him and his disappointed expression as he stay knelt on the bed - cock looking painfully hard still. You scrambled for your t-shirt and your joggers and then walked out of the room, across the bus’ narrow corridor, and into the bathroom.

You looked at yourself in then mirror and were disappointed at what, or who, you saw. Looking back at you was the person who couldn’t even have sex. You couldn’t give Harry what he deserved. You were a failure and it was stamped all over your body. You cried as you looked at yourself, until you couldn’t and you just slid down the wall and onto the floor. You wished for the Earth to just swallow you whole. You couldn’t stand being here when you were clearly broken and useless.

Harry would surely leave you for this. Why would he want to stay with someone who couldn’t even get their boyfriends dick in their pussy? Couldn’t give each other that pleasure? Harry had so many people in the past and surely with you gone he’d have so many people in the future. It would be selfish of you to stay. Harry had needs you completely appreciated that, but it would be just so difficult to let him go when he means so much to you.

There was a quiet knock at the door, which broke you from your cries and self-deprecating. “Y/N? Baby honey? Can I come in, please?”

“S-sorry. Yes of c-course.” You stood up quickly, thinking that he was wanting to be let in to go to the toilet or to have a cold shower go get rid of the hard-on that you’d put there. Too bad you couldn’t have taken it away.

You unlocked the door and shuffled past him, only for him to stop you. He shut the bathroom door behind him, leaving you both infinitely pressed together in the pathway on the bus. He had you pressed you up against the side of the wall and kept his arms at either side of you.

“Sweets—”

“Harry, please don’t say anything. I-I know what you’re thinking and—”

“Yeah? And what am I thinking?” He asked, not moving away from you. You held your cries the best you could and took a deep breathe to continue.

“I’m a disappointment. I-I i’m not good enough. I’m broken.” You choked out, knocking your head back against the wall from frustration.

“Stop it.” Harry ordered firmly, gripping your cheeks in his hands and forcing you to look at him. The look in his eyes was so hard to read, but he looked desperate and worried and hurt. You hated to think that you were the cause of any of those emotions. “Just stop.” Harry’s own eyes were starting to fill with tears too and you brought your own hand up to catch a few of them before they could fall.

“Don’t cry, please.” You begged, keeping your hand pressed to his cheek which he absolutely adored. He loved the feeling of your skin against his. He never wanted to not have it.

“Then don’t say things that hurt me, okay? Hearing you say those things about yourself absolutely breaks m’heart flower. Just because you were a bit too tight to take me today does not mean that you’re a disappointment or you’re a failure or that you’re not good enough. It hurts to think that you’d ever think I would think that, because - fuck -,” Harry pressed his forehead tight against yours and fanned his lips lips over yours. His closeness was everything. “I love you so much it scares me. My feelings for you are so strong and so real. I want your forever and something as trivial as sex is never going to make me want otherwise. Do you get that?”

“B-but the album?” You asked.

“What about the album?”

“I-in the recent magazine interview you said that sex is your biggest i-inspiration. I can’t be that for you.”

“Is that what this is all about? Because you think that my album isn’t coming together because i’m not having sex? Did you miss the part where I said I wanted this one to be perfect and I was taking m’time with it?”

“No.”

“Well I did say that, because it’s for you baby. The whole thing is going to be for you. Every melody. Every lyric. Every song. Just and all for you.” Both of you were silently crying now, absorbed in each others love and adoration for one another.

“I-I didn’t know.”

“Now you do. This album isn’t really for the charts or the awards. It’s for you, m’heart. I love you for a lot more than your body and its’ pleasures.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, taking all his words in and realising how irrationally you’d acted out afterwards.

“For what, sweetheart?”

“For even thinking that you’d be so shallow and cold-hearted.”

“You didn’t think that though, baby. I know you and so I know you didn’t. Your thoughts were based around your own insecurities, not to do with your small-thinking over me.” He explained to you, making you nod and kick your lips.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Well then we don’t deserve each other.”

“But i’ll keep you forever if you’d let me.”

“Looks like we’re together forever then, baby honey.”

[libraryofloveletters]

Just A Phase

Evan Buckley x Reader 

Warnings: fem!reader, typical high school nonsense, kinda rude behaviour at first meet, mentions of weed/alcohol and the consumption of, typical cocky jock behaviour, few swear words, being tipsy/drunk

Category: fluff and a little angst 

Word Count: 5.4k

Author’s Note: I just started writing and this is where I ended up so yeah also I feel like I haven’t written in a million years, forgive me if this is shitty // I referred to Buck as Evan for the first little bit because he and the reader had been introduced yet. // thank you to my darling @floralbuckleys for their help!

----

Senior Year Of High School. 

 Evan Buckley, certified jock and bad boy. 

He was the type of guy that only had a soft spot for you, but you didn’t know that yet. Truthfully he wasn’t a mean guy - people just perceived him that way because he was on the football team and popular. He had somewhat of a troublesome reputation.

People knew where he went, trouble followed. 

You, on the other hand, came from a somewhat above average family. Your mom’s a nurse and dad’s a lawyer. They always had big hopes and dreams for you, for you to go off to Harvard in the fall and follow in your father’s footsteps but you didn’t want that. 

You dreamt of being a writer - you couldn't bring yourself to tell your parents that. Since you were young, they had instilled “you’re going to go to Harvard” in you. 

You couldn’t back out now. 

See, high school worked a certain way. You kept to your circles and didn’t mingle with those that didn’t fit into your circle. You and Evan didn’t run in the same circle - he was a troublesome jock and you were a smart preppy girl. 

Being the preppy kid meant volunteering where you could to bulk up your college application hence why you were at school on a Friday afternoon, waiting for the kids to show up. You were part of some tutor program that your chemistry teacher put you into. 

It was mostly just kids that needed some clarification on their work and the occasional jock that needed to pass a course to stay on the team.

You weren't surprised when a group of noisy jocks stumbled in the study hall, reeking of sweat from practice.  

You were surprised to see Evan, he hadn't been in there before. 

“Settle down boys” Mrs. Jacobs told them before sending each guy off to a tutor, leaving Evan standing beside her. “You can head over to y/n” she pointed at you, you gave him a small smile when you glanced up. He looked unpleasant, like he didn’t want to be there. 

He made his way over nonetheless. “Good afternoon” you say quietly, unsure if he heard you. He grumbles a hello as he sits down. 

The first few minutes, it was quiet. He sat there flipping through his textbook and scribbling down answers into the notebook in front of him. 

“Is there anything I can help you-” “I'm not stupid.” 

You glance at him, eyes catching his blue ones looking back at you. “I never said you were.” 

“I'm only here because I didn’t turn in my mid term project and now stupid Mr. Jefferson thinks I don't understand this shit” he explains himself. 

You hum, glancing down at the notebook in front of him, pulling it towards you. Reading over the sheet, all the answers were right. A hum of satisfaction slips pass your lips as you slide the notebook back over to him. 

“Not just another dumb jock then.” your eyes study his face after the statement. His lips curl into a small smile, a hum as he turns his attention back to his paper. 

“So prep life must be dull - no parties, all study.” 

“Who says prep kids don't party ?” 

He chuckles, “maybe the lack of prep kids at the parties.” “I’ll have you know, I party plenty, Evan.” 

Once again, he chuckles. “The phrasing of that statement shows that you clearly don’t- but call me Buck, all the guys do.” he slides the notebook over to you. 

“Check this over, I'll be back” you watched as he stepped out of the study hall and disappeared into the hallway. 

A few minutes pass by, you’re tired and in need of a nap but you blink away the tiredness to read his work. There’s a voice behind you and then you feel something heavy on your chair. Leaning back to figure out what it was, the back of your head hit something hard. You shift in your seat and look up to see your head has hit Buck’s torso. 

“How's the work, peach ?” his voice is low, the drop in octave from before causes butterflies in your stomach. 

Your brows furrow at the nickname, he noticed your confusion and glances down at your top and your eyes follow his only to see that your peach colour bra was sticking out from the top of your shirt. 

You had stretched back into your seat when he stepped out and you hadn't noticed the shift in your clothing.

Pulling the top of your shirt back up, he smiles and returns to his seat. You clear your throat, head down and eyes on the work in front of you as you could feel the blush on your face. 

“Um, the work is fine.” 

“Do you have plans tonight ?” 

“No, why?” 

“Come with me to Johnson’s party, you can show me how prep kids party” he smiles, his words are teasing you- taunting you even. “I would, but my parents are out of town so I don’t have the car and I have to watch the house.” 

“The house won’t disappear if you’re gone for a few hours and I'll pick you up then. What’s your address ?” 

“Buck, I really shouldn't” 

“Y/n, come on. Pull the stick out your ass for one night and enjoy senior year. You can go back to Harvard prep tomorrow.” 

His word choice doesn't shock you, it’s quite on brand for him. He’s looking at you, waiting for your answer and you can't help but give in.

Taking the pen from him, you scribble your address and number on his notebook. “See you at 7?” picking your bag up before slinging it over your shoulder. 

“7? Peach, the party doesn’t start ‘till 9. I’ll pick you up at 10:30.” 

“Oh um- okay.” you hum, confused but you agree anyways. 

--- 

10:45 and you were sitting on your couch, glancing at your phone and back to the window. 

You had been stood up once before but to be stood up by a jock, and a popular one ? Will be the death of any social life you had. 

Finally there’s a knock on your door and you get up a little faster than you would have liked but you make your way over. Pulling it open, you met with Buck. 

“Ready ?” 

“Sure, let me grab my phone” you leave the door open, stepping back to the couch. Buck had disappeared from the doorway when you returned, you locked up and followed what looked like headlights to the driveway. 

Buck sat on his bike, he scoots forwards a bit before patting the space behind him. 

“No.” you mumble. 

“What ?” 

“I’m not getting on that thing.” 

“That thing ? I'm offended. Come on, you’ll be fine.” 

“Evan, no.” 

Buck gets up, making his way over to you. His hands grab yours, looking at you now. “Y/n, I promise you that you’ll be fine. Can we go now ?” 

“I’ll kill you if something happens to you” you grumbled as you reluctantly made your way over to the bike. Buck gets on first, you mirror his actions. Your hands were to your side, Buck reached back and wrapped them around his waist. 

“You good back there ?” 

“As good as I could be.”

-- 

The house, who you assumed belonged to Johnson’s parents, (you had no idea who Johnson was because you barely ever went to the football games) reeked of alcohol and weed. 

Your face didn’t hide your displeasure as well as you thought it had. Buck chuckled as he slung his arm over your shoulder. 

“So is this what you do ?” you shout over the loud music, Buck was saying hello to someone he knew and wasn't paying attention to what you had asked him. 

You manage to wiggle your way out of his grip and find your way to the kitchen. It’s a few minutes later that Buck finds you sipping on a beer. 

“You drink ?” he gives you a questionable look with a smile on his face. 

“You brought me to a party so I'll do what people do at a party” you hum, leaning back against the counter. He finds his way to you, leaning back against the counter too. 

“Enjoying the party ?” 

“Not really, you kinda left me to talk to some guy for twenty minutes” 

“That guy happens to be our star quarterback.” 

“I care why?” you glance up at him. Buck’s face is pure amusement, you aren't sure if you’re the cause of that or something else but the way he's looking at you- you can feel the butterflies again. 

“Buck!” a group of guys shout as they make their way into the kitchen. They all say hello to him, some are drinking, some are shoving chips into their mouths. 

You stay quiet while Buck talks to them and judging by their varsity jackets, it was safe to assume that they were on the team with Buck. 

“Who’s your friend ?” a brunette guy asks him, stepping towards you. 

“I’m y/n, you are?” you ask before Buck could. 

“Mike, call me Johnson.” 

“Oh, so this is your place ? Cute house” you give him a smile, he laughs. 

“How do you know Buck?” Johnson asks, he was nosy for a drunk guy. 

“Just bumped into each other, we have class together” you lie, not sure if Buck wanted them to know how you really met, Buck gives you a small smile. 

“You’re pretty, how about a dance ?” his hand grabs yours. 

“Thanks but no thanks” you give a polite smile before pulling your hand away. 

Johnson takes a step forward, his hand reaching out and grabbing your hip. “C’mon, dance with me” you could smell the alcohol on him- he reeked. You push his hand off, “I said no thank you” you tell him once more, being ever so polite. 

“Y/n, c’mon, one dance baby” he takes another step, he’s now face to face with you. Before you could say anything, Buck is in front of you, between you and Johnson. 

“Dude, she said no. Leave her alone.” 

Buck’s sudden need to protect you was much appreciated. Usually if a guy did that, especially a jock, you’d be weird out because they never pay attention to you- but Buck, you had this indescribable feeling, pride, satisfaction, maybe even relief ? 

“She’s not even your girl, why are you protecting her?” 

“Doesn’t matter, she said no so get out of her fucking face.” Buck’s hand was against his chest, pushing him away as his other hand reached back for yours. It would be cheesy to say that your hand fit in his like it was made to be there but it was true. 

Buck’s hand was still in yours as he pulled you out the back door. Your back was up against the wall as he stood in front of you. 

“Are you okay ?” you could hear the concern in his voice - different from his usual tone. 

At a loss for words, his eyes study your face. Johnson was a douche and he knew that, he mentally cursed himself for even bringing you here. 

“Y/n.. talk to me” he takes a step towards you. 

“Buck,” your hand presses against his chest, “I'm fine. It’s not the first time a drunk guy has hit on me” 

A breath of relief slipped past his lips, “do you want to leave?” his face softens when he asks. “No, I'm alright.” 

“Stay here, I'll be back” his hand comes down and squeezes your waist gently before he steps back into the house. 

--

It was a while before Buck returned. He had disappeared into the house for half an hour and when he returned, you were by the pool with a pingpong ball in hand. 

“Suck it!” your loud laugh filled his ears, you took a sip from the red cup in your hand and you watched as the guy across from you drank the beer in the cup that the ball landed in. 

“Looks like you’re having fun” Buck smiles, now beside you. 

“Hey!” you reeked of beer at this point. “I’m having fun” your words come out in a slurred mumble. 

“Mhm okay, I think it’s time to head home” Buck takes the cup from you and sets it down. 

“What ?” Your hand reaches for the cup again, a pout evident on your face.

Buck’s hands finds your waist, hoisting you up and over his shoulder. A louder than expected gasp left your mouth, you felt the cold breeze against your legs as he walked towards the front of the yard. 

He put you down in the backseat of a car but you knew you came with his bike so you were confused, just as you go to ask, he scoots you over and gets in the back with you. Buck’s arm is over your shoulder, you’re so tired that you just lean into him. 

-- 

You had noticed you fell asleep and when you woke, you were on the porch swing at your house with Buck’s hand in your pocket. 

“Whatcha looking for?” he glances up at you when he hears your voice. 

“Keys.” 

“Other pocket” 

He manages to find the keys and get the door open. Getting you in the house was another story. “Y/n, come on” he pulls your hands in an attempt to get you up but you weren’t budging. 

What happened to you being a prep kid and not drinking ? He didn’t even think it was possible to get drunk that fast. 

“No, tired” you mumbles, making yourself comfortable on the porch swing. “Do you want your parents to come home and find you here? I’m cool with leaving you here if that’s the case” Buck teased, he had no idea when your parents were coming home. 

The mention of your parents finding you outside, drunk, horrified you. You got up so quick, you nearly toppled over. Buck helped you inside and onto the couch. He disappeared for a moment and then returned with a glass of water. 

“Small sips” he settles beside you, watching as you take a sip. You hum, resting your head on his shoulder as his arm comes over your shoulder. 

“Buck?” 

“Yeah?” 

He felt your head shift, now looking up at him, eyes full of sleep. You were studying his face, from the birthmark above his eye to his pink lips.

“I really like you, you know” your words filled with sleep as your eyes drooped, you blinked a few times, forcing yourself to stay awake.

Buck chuckles, “that’ll pass peach, I’m just a phase.” He hummed quietly, fingers running through your hair as you drift to sleep. 

--

The Monday after the party, you saw Buck in the hallway after waking up to an empty house on the couch, head pounding even in the deafening silence and and you can’t quite remember how you got home. 

Buck had been radio silence since then but you weren't sure why. He was walking in from the front doors and you were by your locker. You turn to speak to him but he barely glances at you before continuing his conversation with Johnson. 

From that day, you never spoke to Buck again. Last you saw him was graduation day and last you had heard was that he was in college and you were headed off to Harvard. 

----

Present.

You had become a big shot lawyer, everything your parents wanted. Moved out to LA to start your own firm and everything was going well until this morning. 

You had barely walked into the office when the fire alarm went off. The sudden alarm caused an onset of commotion in the office, the woman next to you bumped into you, spilling your hot cup of coffee onto you. 

She mumbled a sorry as she passed but you could feel the heat coming from where the liquid had spilt. Nonetheless, you made your way out, the sound of the sirens from fire trucks blaring. 

Not that you didn’t enjoy seeing the handsome firefighters (or so your co-workers seem to say) but you had a ton of paperwork to do for an upcoming case you had and you barely started. 

You stood by the curb, watching as the firefighters made their way over to the crowd and into the building to clear it. 

“Ma'am ?” A firefighter made his way over to you, there was a helmet in his hand as he passed a hand through his hair. You glance up from your phone, to see what he wanted. 

“May I take a look?” his eyes shifted to your chest where there is currently a coffee stain on your white shirt. “Oh, thank you but no. I’m fine” 

“Are you sure? Because that’ll leave a pretty nasty mark if you don't get it cleaned. If you aren’t comfortable, we have a female medic” he offered, hoping you’d consider. 

“You’re a medic ?” you asked, looking him up and down. He nods, taking a step back. He begins walking back to the ambulance and you follow him. “Do you want me to get her?” 

“No, you’re a professional, it’s cool” you give him a small smile before moving your shirt so he could check. 

The firefighter’s hand was now right under your collarbone, dabbing at your skin with some gauze. His fingers were cold, you weren’t sure if it was actually his fingers or the gloves that were cold but either way you looked at him. 

“What’s your name ?” 

“Diaz, Eddie Diaz” he tells you, flashing you a smile before going back to his job. 

You hum, staying still as Eddie rubs something on your skin. 

That’s when you saw him. 

The same blue eyes, the same blonde hair, the same gorgeous smile that always played in your mind. Not a day went by that you didn’t think of him. You had always wondered what he ended up doing, he was smart and destined for great things, there was more for him than a small life in a place where no one ever really did anything. 

Every guy you had dated, you compared to him. It was always something- they didn’t look like him, they didn’t act like him, they didn’t treat you the way he did, they wouldn't stand up for you like he did. 

He lived rent free in your mind. 

“Ma'am?” Eddie’s voice broke your gaze. “Y/n,” you corrected him, “ma’am is for old women” your eyes going back to Buck. Eddie noticed your lack of attention and followed your gaze. 

“Do you know Buck?” 

“He still lets people call him that ?” you chuckle to yourself, feeling Eddie’s eyes burning a hole into you. 

Before you could answer, his radio buzzed before a voice came through, “building’s clear. Start directing people back in.” Eddie looks over at you, you’re already getting out of the ambulance. 

“Keep that clean and dry” were his last words to you after you left. 

--- 

It wasn’t until you were back in the building that you realized your phone was in the ambulance. 

You were majorly screwed. 

Remembering the medic’s name which was the only thing you remember mids the confusion and seeing Buck after 10+ years. You asked around the office if anyone knew what station responded to the call. You had contacts that worked for the city but the lack of phone made it hard for you to call and find out. 

Finally giving in, you google the medic’s name. There were a few articles that had photos but none of them said anything that helped. There was a video from Taylor Kelly at channel 8 news, some sort of video about the fire station. 

Station 118- that was 10 minutes down the road and you pass it everyday on the way to work. The thoughts began filling your head, had Buck been there all along? 

12 years- 12 long, empty years that you acted like he didn’t exist and that you didn’t want to know what happened between you two but he was right down the road. 

You didn’t even know if you wanted to talk to him. You had finally come to peace with it even though a part of you will always long for what could have been. Feelings aside, you set out to the station to get your phone. 

Upon arriving, there were a few guys by the trucks. You asked for Eddie, assuming that he might have an idea of where your phone ended up or if they even found it. 

“Up the stairs and he should be somewhere up there” the guy pointed, you thanked him before heading towards the stairs. When you got upstairs, it was empty. 

You weren't sure if you should go back down or wait so you sort of awkwardly stood there, glancing around the room. The station was nicer than you had imagined it to be, not that you really had an idea of what to expect. 

Your back was to the kitchen when someone tapped your shoulder. “Can I help you?” his voice called out as you turned. 

Buck. 

You let out a breath, your eyes studying his perfect face for a moment. Do you say something or just pretend like you didn’t know him?

“Yeah, I'm uh- I'm looking for Eddie. I think I left my phone in the ambulance.” 

“Do I know you from somewhere ?” 

“I work at the building down the road, 14th street. You guys were there earlier, hence the phone in the ambulance” you tell him, hoping he drops the topic. 

“Y/n! Hey! What are you doing here?” You see Eddie call from behind Buck. 

Thank god. 

“I left my phone in the ambulance. I figured you’d know what happened to it” you’ve stepped past Buck and towards Eddie now. “I haven’t seen it, but maybe it’s still in there. Come with me, we can check for it” 

Eddie was making his way down the stairs and you were behind him when Buck called your name. 

Not y/n. 

Peach. 

You paused, taking a deep breath in before turning to face him. “I thought I remembered you from somewhere” he smiled, him and his stupid smile. 

“I’m in a rush, Evan. Plus, I'm not in the mood to reminisce.” 

The smile dropped from his face, the guilt crept up on you. The feeling of your stomach twisting, sighing before making your way down to Eddie who was by the ambulance, your phone in hand. 

“There’s more to the story than I thought,” Eddie hands the phone over, you give him a hum and thank him. “Let me walk you out.” he follows you out to your car. 

“You know, whatever he did- he’s changed. He’s a good guy.” Eddie says, his voice sincere. 

“I know, I just- I don't know” 

“What did he do? If I can ask” 

“We were- I don't know what we were. We hung out in high school, just once but he was different from the other guys. He genuinely cared. We went to a party together and he brought me home after. I remember falling asleep with him in the house and the next morning he was gone. Total radio silence that whole weekend and when I saw him at school the following week, he acted like he didn’t know me - it was like that for the rest of senior year. We never spoke after that.” 

Here you were pouring your heart out to a firefighter who you had only met an hour ago who also had seen your bare chest (in a professional way, of course)  on a Tuesday morning in the parking lot. 

“Wow- I can see why you wouldn’t want to talk to him.”

“Yeah, thank you for the phone though. I gotta get back to work” 

“Wait, let me get your number” 

You pause, looking at him with furrowed brows. He seemed confused then he realized how that sounded. “Oh god- no not like that, sorry. I meant maybe we could grab a drink sometimes, as friends and maybe you could tell me more about high school Buck ?” 

“Um- yes to the number and drinks but I don’t know about Buck” you hand the phone back over to him, telling him that you’d text him. 

--- 

It was a while before you heard from Eddie, he said he was off on Saturday if you were up for drinks and weren't busy. The whole team was going out but he invited you along to join them. 

After some back and forth “I couldn't intrude” and “you won’t be, come join us” you finally gave in. 

Now it’s 9pm and you, Eddie and Buck are sitting at a booth. Coincidentally, everyone else was busy. Chimney and Hen who you hadn’t met yet, were with their significant others and kids. So that left the 3 of you together. 

You wanted to walk back out when you saw it was only the two of them but Eddie had seen you and called you over. His phone buzzed just as Buck came back with drinks. 

“Everything okay?” Buck asked his friend, Eddie, still typing away on his phone. “Huh? Yeah, it’s Carla. Chris is running a fever” you could hear the concern in his voice. 

“Chris is your son?” 

“Yeah- I'm sorry I got to go. I’ll make it up to you. Drinks on me another night” Eddie gave your shoulder a squeeze as he stood. 

“No yeah, of course. Go, it’s fine” you smiled. 

“Let me know if you need anything” Buck shifts towards Eddie, the two of them seem to have some sort of routine or way of how things work between them.  

And now there were two. 

Buck sipped on his beer, you sat across from him, your nails tapping against the bottle in front of you. He was the first one to speak.

“So, how have you been?”

“Good. You?”

“Good too. I don’t know if you remember my sister but she had a baby recently so I've been hanging out with her after work”

“Oh, that’s nice. Maddie right?”

“Yeah, she had a little girl. She’s the cutest little girl ever.” Buck pulls his phone out, showing you a photo of him holding a baby in a blanket with a brunette beside him. The woman beside him, Maddie you assumed, was smiling at Buck, fixing the blanket while he looked at the camera, the joy evident on his face.

“She’s adorable and your sister looks the same, she hasn’t aged a day” you hum, passing the phone over to him.

Back to awkward silence.

“What happened to us?” Buck’s question catches you off guard.

“What happened to us? You happened.”

“What? I thought we were friends.” Your eyes met, his full of confusion and yours with displeasure.

“Friends don’t disappear in the middle of the night with no explanation and ignore them for the rest of senior year.” You get up, grab your phone and make your way to the door. Buck’s calling out to you but you don’t want to stop and talk to him.

The night was cold, the wind hit your bare shoulders and you shivered for a moment before walking. Buck was still calling out your name, he had followed you out the bar.

“Y/n! Stop! Y/n, c’mon. Please!” His hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. You pull your hand back.

“No! You don’t get to do that. Act like everything is fine when you disappeared with no explanation. I know we weren’t best friends but I thought we were at least friends. That fucking hurt, Evan.”

“Fine,” he sighs, looking at you. “You want the truth ?” Your brows raised, waiting for him to continue.

“You told me you liked me. You were a good kid, going to Harvard, which you obviously did” gesturing at you, he continued. “I didn’t know what I wanted and I didn’t want you to feel like you needed to be by my side until I figured it out. I knew you would resent me for that and I couldn’t do that to you, I couldn’t do it to myself.”

“That’s selfish. It’s about you ? That’s why you left with no explanation ? You couldn’t do it to yourself ? Man the fuck up Buck, life isn’t about you.” 

“You think I don’t know that ?! You think I didn’t think about you all the time? That I didn’t miss you?” 

“Don’t start with that shit. You knew where I would be. You said it yourself, I was “a good kid, going to Harvard” so if you really missed me, you could have found me.” 

“Y/n, be real. We were just out of high school, what means did I have to go searching for you? I had my own shit to deal with.” 

“Just stop, I don’t even want to know.” 

“No, you stop” 

“No you.” 

“Y/n” his voice was stern, the annoyance clearly there. 

“Evan.” your tone matched his.

That stupid smug smile of his was on his face, that was enough to make you roll your eyes. “’Kay, I'm over your shit.” turning away from him, you go to walk away but his hand grabs yours. 

Still fit like it was made to be there. 

Before you could register what was happening, Buck’s lips were on yours. Maybe time stopped when Buck’s lips met yours but your heart didn’t- it felt like it was beating a million times seconds and the butterflies in your stomach were restless. 

It wasn't clear to either of you at the moment that it had started pouring rain but it didn’t matter. There was this raw emotion in the way his hands felt on your waist or how his chest was pressed to yours. 

Buck would be lying if he said he didn’t open his eyes slightly, sneaking a guilty peek at you just to make sure you weren’t a fiction of his imagination. Every breath he took smelt of lavender and honey, the same scent that had lingered on his mind since the day he met you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible. 

Maybe this was meant to be, fate bringing back what was meant for him to him or maybe this really was all a fabrication of his imagination but he wanted to live in his moment forever. 

It wasn't until thunder rumbled that he pulled away. The rain had soaked your clothes and hair, your makeup had smudged and half of your lipstick was on Buck. 

The same stupid smug smile on his face.

“God,” rolling your eyes at him. “You’re so annoying.” wiping your lips with the back on your hand, hoping that you got all the lipstick off. 

“Yeah, I'm the annoying one” Buck’s face twisted, giving you a playful shove as you stepped towards him. Your thumb comes up to wipe the lipstick off him. Buck’s arm lifts, now over your shoulder. 

The two of you looked at each other as you made your way down the street. 

“Just a phase huh ?” you hum, glancing at Buck. 

The blonde let out a chuckle, “maybe not.” 

--- 

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[sesamestreep]

Sam/Bucky for 28, "feeling for each other in the dark"

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ZAINAB!! here’s another small entry in that TFATWS/HGTV AU🏡 🛠❤️ (wow that’s a lot of acronyms!) that I keep promising to write for you and never do! i hope you like it and I hope you’ve had a wonderful day with absolutely no electrical issues whatsoever 🍰💖

Bucky finds this whole social media thing baffling, if he’s being honest. Sam would laugh—has laughed, when he’s said it before—and call him an old man, which is fine. Maybe even fair. He’s certainly not young anymore, and if this is the way of the future, he may have to make peace with becoming a relic. But for now, he’s trying.

He’s pretty good at being in front of a camera, though that’s less about well-honed skill and more about pure instinct at this point. When they were growing up, Steve’s mom used to call him a “charming varmint,” with the way he’d chase after girls he liked and sweet talk his way out of trouble with shopkeepers and teachers. Being on camera, he figures, is more or less the same thing, trying to charm people enough that they keep paying attention.

No, the thing that’s truly baffling about social media is the way you’ve got to film everything, and you’ve got to be on all the time, and you’ve got to slow down and explain everything you’re doing so that people can replicate it, because that’s apparently why they’re watching. (Except when it’s for something called ASMR, which Sarah attempted to explain to him once and he only felt more confused afterwards somehow.) Bucky’s good at what he does, but he’s not convinced anyone should be basing their life choices off of him, even just the ones related to contracting and home improvement, fields where he is ostensibly an expert.

Sam says this is all par for the course, that it’s normal to feel weird about all the attention, because it is objectively pretty fucking weird. Millions of people follow them now. There’s simply no other way to describe it other than bizarre.

Thankfully, today’s assignment is fairly light on the social media fuckery that Bucky doesn’t understand. All Sam has asked him to do is set up his phone to record himself pressure washing and sanding the back deck of the house. Despite his objections that it will be boring for people to watch, Sam insists that, once they speed up the footage, people will find the repetition soothing, and the transformation at the end will be impressive. All of that allegedly will turn into likes and shares and a bunch of other metrics Bucky can’t think about too hard without giving himself a stress headache. According to Sarah, who’d been sitting at the kitchen table with them and nodding along the whole time as Sam explained this, the video Sam is describing will “do numbers,” which is a haunting phrase and most of Bucky’s acquiescence was to avoid having it explained to him any further.

“We’ll put that Harry Styles song you pretend not to like over the footage,” Sam had said, with a wide grin. “People will love it.”

“If you say so,” Bucky grumbled, secretly grateful they’d returned to a metric he could actually understand. Liking or disliking something; that makes sense to him.

That had been a few hours and a trip to the hardware store ago, and he was finally getting around to setting up his phone to record. After double-checking the angles, and ensuring he had enough battery left to capture the whole process, he went to plug in the pressure washer so he could get started. When he pressed the power button on the machine, though, nothing happened. He tried unplugging it and plugging it back in with the same exact result. He cursed under his breath, worried that this brand new piece of equipment might be broken and he’d have to hound someone at the store about it, which would ultimately just set them back a full day on this project. Before he does that, though, he decides to plug in the sander, just to be sure it’s the washer and not to outlet. To his surprise, the sander won’t turn on either.

He doesn’t remember Sam or Sarah mentioning this outlet as one that doesn’t work, and once he thinks about it, he remembers using it for the leaf blower last weekend. He stands, wiping his palms on his jeans, and squints into the house to see if he can spot Sam. He can’t, but he does notice the overhead light above the stove isn’t on, which is odd. Sam is always complaining that Sarah and the boys leave that on all the time, even when they’re not home, which wears out the bulb. So far, his complaints about it have mostly resulted in his sister and nephews roasting him for being uptight, and the light will stay on all day unless Sam himself sees it and goes through the trouble of clicking it off (which he almost always forgets to do, which only compounds the roasting he receives from his family).

Now that he’s looking, Bucky can see that the clock on the stove—normally an alarmingly bright red LED display that Sarah hates but not enough to replace the stove, despite it being older than both of her children and always cooking chicken unevenly—is out, too. He goes to stop the recording on his phone, and can’t connect to the wi-fi, which confirms his suspicion that the power is out for the whole house. He knows Sam was supposed to be re-organizing some stuff in the basement, so he decides to go check on him before he tries to find out if it’s just them or if the neighborhood lost power.

Using the flashlight on his phone, he descends the basement stairs carefully. “Sam?” he calls out, into the darkness.

“Buck?” Sam calls from the other end of the room. He holds his own phone, also set to flashlight mode, aloft and waves it, to get Bucky’s attention.

“You alright?” Bucky asks, and he hadn’t really, truly been worried—Sam can take care of himself just fine—but he feels himself finally relax seeing him in one piece.

“Yeah…” Sam replies, but there’s something hesitant about it.

“Oh, god, you’re not hurt, are you?” Bucky asks, nearly tripping over himself to cross the room and get closer to Sam. In his haste, he drops his phone, which makes everything harder to see and he ends up colliding with a stack of boxes that he’s fairly sure contain Cass and AJ’s baby clothes. As he stumbles to avoid crushing the boxes, he reaches out a hand to steady himself and finds Sam already waiting, arm outstretched, to catch him. He clamors to grab his hand in the dim light.

“I’m fine,” Sam says, his voice gentle now that he’s up close. “You good?”

“Yeah, all good,” he replies, trying very hard to act like a guy who didn’t just absolutely embarrass himself in front of his boyfriend. He clears his throat, awkwardly. “Did the power go out while you were down here?”

“Yeah, while I was down here…”

“Do you think we should call some of the neighbors? You know, make sure they still have power, see if they need anything?”

Sam rubs his neck, looking nervously at the floor. “That won’t be necessary, actually,” he says. “I’m pretty sure it’s just us that lost power.”

“How do y—?” Bucky starts to ask, before realization dawns. He narrows his eyes. “Samuel, you didn’t!”

“I was just trying to—!”

“I know what you were trying to do, but what you actually did was fuck with the breakers! Sarah’s gonna kill you!”

“Woah, first of all, nobody has to tell Sarah anything!” Sam says, desperately. “And secondly, I know what I’m doing here, okay? Something just went wrong!”

“What, Sam?” Bucky asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “What went wrong?”

“I… well…I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“Uh-huh. So much for knowing what you’re doing.”

Sam pouts at him, which is, unfortunately, kind of cute. “Hey!”

“Sam, sweetheart, you are excellent at almost everything you do. It is, honestly, upsetting how talented you are,” Bucky says, with as much patience as he can muster. “That talent does not extend to electrical work. It is the one thing on earth you’re not good at. It’s your Achilles heel. Just accept that and stop messing with the wiring in your sister’s house!”

“I prefer to think of electrical work more as my white whale,” Sam says, clearly trying to be charming. “Like, I just need to keep at it and eventually it will all work out.”

“Spoken like someone who has absolutely never read ‘Moby Dick,’” Bucky replies.

“Whatever,” he says, with a shrug. “Are you going to help me with these breakers or not?”

“I will take a look at them on one condition.”

“Okay, name it.”

“I need to hear four little words from you, in exchange for my help.”

Sam looks back and forth between the fuse box and Bucky in confusion for a moment. “I love you…” he says, sounding unsure. Then, he takes a second to count it out on his hands. “…Bucky.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, trying to avoid the smile threatening to burst forth at any moment. “I love you too, but that actually wasn’t what I was looking for.”

Sam looks even more confused at that and appears to think even harder about the answer. Bucky raises an eyebrow at him, waiting. Eventually, Sam sighs, deeply.

“I’ll hire an electrician,” he promises, petulantly.

“That’s my guy,” Bucky says, planting a kiss on his forehead on his way over to the fuse box.

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

what the fuck I just found this in my drafts I literally wrote this years ago, like a very significant number of years ago this is old shit

and apparently I just saved it and forgot about it??? anyway I polished it up and now it is here, I have no context and I barely even remember writing it, enjoy!

my apologies for the long post I still can't figure out how to do read mores in the app

edit: some lovely people have unformed me how to use readmores, thank you ~

-----

Jack was starting to wonder perhaps if he'd done something wrong.

It wasn't uncommon for him to accidentally say or do something to upset his wife or daughter, although usually when such an event occurred Maddie would glare at him to express her displeasure, and Jazz would always take the opportunity to tell him in exact detail what he'd done wrong and how to make it up to them (something he was honestly very grateful for).

It must have been something pretty bad this time, because both women wouldn't even look him in the eye.

Jack first twigged that something was off that morning during breakfast, when he sat in the empty chair by Jazz's side and gave his usual greeting, "Hey Jazzypants!"

She ignored his presence completely, steely eyes glued to the wall opposite her, they were puffy and red and Jack wondered perhaps if she'd been crying.

It had been a long time since her problems were easily pushed aside by her father's warm hugs and jovial attitude, he had stopped being able to handle a crying Jazz after she'd turned twelve and countered his attempts at humour by insisting that he 'stop trivialising her distress', whatever THAT meant.

Nevertheless, warm hugs and gentle jokes were the only method he knew and so he wrapped a comforting arm around her thin shoulders, noting that she continued to sit still as a rock, not even glancing his way as he tried to coax a smile out of her.

Jazz didn't say a word as she pushed herself away from her unfinished breakfast and left the room.

It was when he walked down to the lab intending to ask Maddie about Jazz that Jack started to suspect he may have been the one responsible, as it became apparent that the two had seemed to coordinate their punishment for whatever transgression he'd made.

"Hey Mads!" his voice boomed over the noise of his wife's current project. He strained to see through the bright light of her blow torch at the large gun-like weapon on the table. Jack whistled in appreciation is he took in the size of what he assumed was some kind of rocket launcher. "So what are we calling this one? Ooh! How about, The Fenton Spectre 'Sploder!"

Maddie's goggles made it difficult to see what expression adorned her face, but her tensed shoulders and the shaky grip on the blow torch told him that she was most certainly upset about something.

"Mads? Are you alright?" his voice quivered slightly as he took a few steps closer, seeing his wife this tense tightened a coil within his chest. Suspecting that he may be responsible added an extra weight to his stomach that he knew wasn't cause by the breakfast he'd skipped.

The light from the blow torch snapped off and Jack had to blink the bright spots it left behind from his vision, trying to peer through the blotches to find any indication that Maddie was going to acknowledge his presence. It seemed as though she'd looked his way for a moment but before his eyes could clear enough to meet hers she'd looked away again.

Jack watched, puzzled as his wife raised a hand to cover her mouth and catch the sob that ripped its way from her throat, she hadn't succeeded as the sound echoed across the lab and tore its way straight through Jack's heart, causing his eyes to sting and his throat to close up.

He reached a hand out to touch her shoulder, intent on giving her some form of comfort. He'd barely brushed it with his finger tips before Maddie stormed right past him up to the stairs, Jack had to quickly stumble backwards to avoid being trampled.

He couldn't imagine what he possibly could have done to elicit such a response from the woman he loved, but he knew for sure that he must have done something terrible for her to not seek him out for comfort like she did any other time she was upset. He just wished he could remember what.

Jack's shoulders slumped under the dim light of the glowing jars of ectoplasm lining the various counter-tops, he dry-swallowed a few times, trying to push down his confusion and distress before following his wife's light footsteps up the stairwell.

He found her in the kitchen, leaning against a counter with her goggles slung around her neck and her wild red hair loose around her head, abundant with the kinks and tangles Jack usually watched her brush out of it every morning.

"Mads?" Jack said, voice rough and quiet, "Look I... if I did something wrong I-" Jack's apology froze in his throat as Jazz poked her head through the kitchen door, eyes once again glancing right over Jack and instead locking onto her mother.

Neither woman shared a word as Jazz crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Maddie, who desperately grabbed at her daughter in return, burying her face in long red hair as violent sobs wracked her whole body.

Jack, at a loss of what else to do, wrapped his own arms around his girls. Nestling his chin on his daughters hair, he expected the annoyed scoff that Jazz usually gave him for his 'chin noogies', but it never came. Neither Fenton woman pushed him away though, so Jack considered it progress.

Finally, after an age of rocking and sobbing, Maddie's muffled words escaped through strands of Jazz's hair.

"Where is he? W-where'd he go, where'd he go?"

A deep chill coursed through Jack's veins, Danny? Had something happened to Danny? Jack pulled away, a million questions thrumming through his mind.

What happened? Was he missing? Was he hurt? Had he run away, been kidnapped, been kill- no. Jack shook his head violently, running a hand through the shorts strands of his thick hair. No he couldn't be. He couldn't be he couldn't be.

Jack's mouth was on the verge of catching up to his brain, multiple questions bubbled at his lips when he heard a voice echo down the stairs.

"Jazz?"

Jack took a steadying breath and grasped at the counter for support, relief flooding his body as his son rounded the corner and came into view. Danny was fine, Danny was safe. He had been fretting over absolutely nothing.

Then Danny's eyes locked into his.

A number of emotions flickered across his son's face, the first being a brief moment of sheer relief and delight, but it didn't last. Soon, too soon, Danny's dark brows pulled together and his lips curled sourly in confusion before a new expression swept it away. It was one Jack had never seen before.

He felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room, an icy chill prickled up his arms as the sudden wave of absolute horror overtook Danny's face. Jack couldn't tell if his son was about to break down crying or scream.

And then it was over. The tension in Jack's limbs released as Danny's face flattened into an unnaturally blank expression, he dropped his gaze and continued his way over to Maddie and Jazz. Once again it was like Jack wasn't even there.

Danny placed a hand on his mother's shoulder. "Maybe you should do another lap around town, you might find something today." he spoke softly into her frazzled hair.

Jazz looked at Danny strangely, her brother sent her back a glance that must have held some meaning because she then gripped Maddie tightly around the shoulders and led her straight out of the house, and suddenly Jack recalled that he still didn't know who it was that had gone missing.

"So... is anyone gonna tell me what's going on?" the jovial tone Jack meant to use came out flat and strained, Danny didn't look even remotely amused.

"I think you should sit down." Danny said quietly. He was no longer meeting Jack's eyes as he pulled out a chair for himself and one for his father.

Jack took the offered seat and prepared himself for the worst, obviously someone dear to Maddie and the kids had gone missing, Jack ran a list of all the people they knew, preparing himself for the worst, it was obvious Danny did not want to tell him what had happened. Perhaps whoever was missing was someone that Jack in particular had been close to? Was that the reason behind the horrified look on Danny's face? Because he'd realised he was going to have to be the one to tell him?

Something in Jack's gut told him he was on the wrong track, but try as he might he just couldn't imagine what else it could possibly be.

Jack kept his eyes on his son as the boy's thin torso straightened up in his chair and his icy blue stare bored into Jack's. Danny took a deep breath, then took several more, eventually he seemed almost ready to speak, Jack didn't rush him.

"Dad... you're dead."

[duskamethyst]

possessive.

a/n: i feel like there aren’t a lot of yandere bokuto so i decided to write it myself

word count: 2k

genre: smut, nsfw

warnings: noncon, yandere behavior, overstimulation

pairing: yan!bokuto x f!reader

summary: bokuto isn’t a fan of being the second place in receiving attention, particularly yours. bokuto hates it when you (unintentionally) ignore him, keep him out of the conversation (that doesn’t concern him in the first place) when you talk to his teammates and those seem to be the main problem of the unwanted situation you’re facing going to face. to conclude, even outside the court, bokuto craves for attention.

konoha is your assigned partner for the class assignment but it takes so much more of your time than the other’s since he’s more devoted on his volleyball practices after school than the whole thing. thus, the only time you can manage to talk to him further besides during lunch and class is during his practice.

“okay, so i’ve already finished most of my part so for your part, you’ll need to--” you begin, but only to be cut off by a shout of your name.

“hey, you didn’t even say hi to me?” bokuto runs up to where you and konoha are standing with a frown on his face.

“oh, hi, bokuto.” you smile before turning to the other male beside you. “anyway--”

“what are you guys doing?” he shifts closer, peeking the notebook you’ve been holding to show konoha your progress.

“i’ve told you before, bokuto. we’re partners for our class project!” konoha beams, patting your shoulder and pulls you closer to him in a friendly manner. “you work so fast, i feel bad though.”

bokuto glances at the hand resting on your shoulder but quickly averts his gaze to his friend, “then you better pick up the pace too, huh? so you won’t give her a hard time.”

“yeah,” konoha smiles apologetically. “hey, how about we go to the library tomorrow so we can finish the whole stuff?” you nod and smile at him, the thought that he is not entirely hopeless sends a wave of relief in you.

“can i come?!” bokuto chimes in with puppy eyes. both of you blink at him in confusion.

“nope! it’ll only be the two of us!” konoha laughs, “come on, break time’s over.” he walks away to the center of the court, pushing the sad bokuto along with him.

checking in your bag half-way home, you suddenly realize that you have left some of the materials you need to go through for the assignment tomorrow with konoha. it will be such a drag if you have to stop by school first tomorrow so you lazily walk back to your class and go through under your desk. the door of the class slides open and you turn around to see no other than bokuto.

“oh, hey.” you smile, walking towards the door. “i’m just about to head out. finished practice?”

“oh, yeah-- kinda.” he replies shortly.

“kinda?”

“i told them i wasn’t feeling really well.” he says, sliding back the door close behind him. the thought of bokuto-- this bokuto, is ill is rather absurd to you. you’ve watched him play, and there was not even a single time that this man had gotten any injuries. not even a broken finger from blocking a hard spike from the opponent. he had never even missed a match from being sick. the only time that he seemed “sick” was when he was in those mood swings and he would usually get back up on his feet. nonetheless, he is still human after all.

“you seemed fine earlier.” you exclaim, trying to get to the door but he shifts his body in front of you, blocking the door instead. when you move the left, he moves to the right, vice versa. you look up at him questioningly but you can’t really conclude the expression written on his face and it’s very unusual.

“maybe if you weren’t ogling konoha, you would’ve noticed.” he mutters lowly under his breath but loud enough for you to hear.

“what?” you shake your head. “first of all, i wasn’t. and secondly, if you haven’t noticed, you’re blocking my way.” you reply matter-of-factly, stepping to the side again before he grabs your shoulders and turns you around to pin you against the door. you look at him in horror, realizing that his build is solid and muscular up close and if he wants to hit you, you would definitely get knocked out.

“i really got sick after seeing you and konoha, you know that?” he has the same look on his face and a sly grin comes up across his face afterwards. “of course you don’t. but since we’re alone now.. i can finally have you all to myself.”

he smashes his lips onto yours, the kiss is hasty and rough, his hands begin to wander all over your body before one of them makes its way under your skirt to grab your ass. your trembling hands try to push him away but he doesn’t falter. instead, his grip goes harder.

“don’t even try to resist me.” he warns as his sharp teeth starts to nip on the delicate skin of your neck, leaving harsh purple marks.

“s-stop.” you beg when the hand on your ass moves to rub circles on your clit. it hurts, it’s uncomfortable but as every second passes, even you can feel that you begin to pool under his touch-- let alone the jerk who’s grinning from the results of his work.

“wow, you’re so fucking wet,” he chuckles, rubbing the wetness between his fingers as if feeling it through your panties isn’t enough to convince him. “but i can’t help but to wonder how you taste.”

he easily lifts you up and lays you down on the teacher’s desk before pulling down your panties and puts it inside his pocket. bokuto leans down and pushes your legs up before spreading your slits open with his fingers and sticks his tongue out to lick your clit.

you feel embarrassed when his golden eyes meet yours, watching you as you squirm while his tongue laps up the juices from your sloppy cunt. you recognize the proud look on his face, you’ve seen it when he successfully delivered a cross-court shot over the net during the tournament but never in a million years you’d expect to see the same grin between your thighs.

“you wanna cum don’t you?” he coos as he slides in his finger inside you.

“no..” you whimper, trying to close your legs but his strong hand pushes them further apart.

“well, i’m gonna make you.”

bokuto slides in another finger and starts fingering you continuously, persistent to make sure you’ll cum for him. he curls his fingers and you begin to find a wave of pleasure slowly building up inside you and you hate yourself for it.

“oh? you look like you wanna cum.” he chuckles as he watches your body writhing on the desk. the room is filled with heavy pants and sloshing sounds from your pussy. you start to feel that you’re pushed to edge as bokuto presses down and rubs your clit with his thumb.

“i’m-i’m gonna cum..” you say between breaths.

“it’s okay, baby. cum for me.” he whispers encouragingly as he watches you throw your head back, soft moans slipping out from your pretty lips. bokuto continues with his pace before your body shakes from releasing an orgasm.

“such a good girl.. you wanna make me happy right?” bokuto leans down to kiss all over your face but your mind is too numb to even respond. “say you want me to fuck you.”

you shake your head slowly, you wish for nothing but to end this torture-- but you should’ve known better. bokuto shifts back between your legs and starts to lick your throbbing cunt again. he watches you as your body starts to writhe again, though his gaze is rather intimidating, much different from earlier.

“please, stop.” you plea but fall into deaf ears instead.

“say it.”

seeing how you refuse to “please” him, he continues to lick you while fingering you, overstimulating you while taunting you all at the same time to push you further to edge.

“f-fuck me, bo--” the words are like music to his ears. bokuto quickly stands up and takes out his cock and almost immediately slides into you. a moan of pleasure escapes from his mouth as he starts to thrust his hips and pushes his all of his thick cock inside you.

“you feel so good, baby.” he compliments-- almost too genuinely. he gazes adoringly at how his glistening cock easily slips in and out of your wet hole despite how you denied him earlier and you can feel how he grows impossibly bigger inside you.

you turn your head to the side, not wanting to make unnecessary eye contact with the man violating you, the one making you feel as if you’re nothing more than just a sex doll.

“i’m good aren’t i?” he asks. if it isn’t for the fact that he’s assaulting you, you’d say that the question sounds very innocent.

you refuse to answer as you persistently stare at the wall. your blood boils at how this man has the audacity to shamelessly ask you such a thing. you know how he’s like, you’ve heard it from konoha himself. he tells you how the whole team carries the responsibility to cheer him on while playing in court to ensure that he gets riled up and how he lives off from being praised by them. you thought that it’s ridiculous but who would’ve thought that you’re also experiencing it first hand, only with his cock plowing inside your guts.

the lack of response irritates him. he needs to hear you say that he’s doing a good job, he put so much effort in this. this is what he had always wanted. he would’ve played it nice but seeing how you were all over his friend earlier, how you subconsciously ignored him, made him do this. it’s your fault. you can’t be mad at him. he’s finally alone with you so why can’t you stop staring at the wall and pay more attention to him? you’re making him upset.

bokuto mercilessly picks up his pace and gets rougher, making sure that you know that he is in balls deep. you finally turn to face him, his brows are knitted together, his expression is no longer compassionate as he focuses on making you cum together with him. bokuto knows that he’s giving a brilliant performance when he starts hearing you moan but now he just needs some compliment.

“i never knew you’re this stubborn.”

you bite down on your lips hard and close your eyes as you feel the coil inside you begin to swirl around, threaten to snap but bokuto is quick to pull away and circles your sensitive clit with his thumb. you open your eyes to see him staring back at you as he waits for you to beg for him.

“bokuto, please..” your voice croaked. he slides in his cock again and gives one deep thrust.

“say it.” he pulls out and rams back in once again, the process repeats itself all over until you eventually start to give in.

“y-you make me feel so good.” you whisper. bokuto’s eyes lit up again and a proud smile creeps up to his lips as he starts to fuck you again.

“that wasn’t so hard was it?” he leans down to nibble your neck as your body arches and your legs slowly wraps itself around his waist. “only i can make you cum, right?”

you let out a shaky ‘yes’ to answer his question, though your mind is rather occupied on how his throbbing cock fills every inch of you and your walls wrap so tightly around his.

“so-- fucking tight,” he hisses. “tell me whose cock is making you feel this good right now?”

“yours!” you wail, hands clutching firmly on his shirt. you feel so close and you know that he feels the same from the way he picks up his pace to chase after his high. with a few more “encouraging” whispers slipping from your mouth, bokuto groans as he finally cums inside you and just as what he wishes for, you reach your second orgasm with him. bokuto pants for air while leaning down to the crook of your neck, his cock still twitching inside you to release the last few drops before he’s sure that he’s empty.

“you can only look at me, and only me.” he murmurs and tilts your head to face him before crashing his lips onto yours once again.

deep down you’ve always known and maybe you shouldn’t have underestimated that even outside the court, bokuto craves for attention.

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[nightingaelic]

could you do Fallout New Vegas companion’s reactions to a Courier Six who is also the Lone Wanderer telling their stories from their time in DC? (bonus points for Arcade’s reaction to them hating the enclave, and if that would make him decide to keep his past hidden even longer, or if he would still tell them?)

The logistics and implications of this make my head spin. This is also super long, honestly I should just quit writing reacts and start writing fics OH WAIT

Getting the courier talking was a tough thing to do, but on nights where the moon was full and the coyotes' howls were miles away or at least behind some stout walls, on nights where they were a few beers in and they hadn't seen another living soul in a few days, that Mojave Express deliverer started to reminisce. That wasn't really the surprising part, though. No, the surprising part was what they would remember, fondly or not-so-fondly: A world apart from the desert, a continent away on another coast, and stories of life in a vault, a missing father, pure water and a Brotherhood divided.

Arcade Gannon: Arcade didn't mind these moods, at least when they first cropped up. He nodded along as the courier talked about living in their father's shadow, about feeling cornered by their own family's legacy. He hung on their words about living in the cradle of America's history, about Project Purity, all of the gritty details of modifying a GECK to bring water to a devastated wasteland.

Eventually though, the courier's memories soured, with the arrival of Enclave remnants in their life. Arcade folded into himself with every harsh word, every jolt of plasma that had disrupted his friend's world relived in horrific detail. They gestured angrily as they described their newfound purpose, their battle for power with the fractured Brotherhood of Steel at their back, and their smug satisfaction at the moments they were able to crack open Raven Rock and the Enclave's mobile base crawler and lay waste to their tormentors.

It took a few rounds of these stories before the courier noticed he shrank and grew quiet whenever they neared the end of their story about breaking into another vault to find the GECK. They stopped abruptly one night. "What's up with you?"

"Um..." Arcade scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "Nothing. Nothing, I just... have some personal experience with the Enclave, myself."

The courier sighed. "Yeah, there's a few people walking around the West Coast that have similar stories to mine. Arroyo's full of them, for one. Is it something like that?"

Arcade took a deep breath. "I feel... well, it's a lot closer to home, for me. Close enough to raise questions, so I don't talk about it much."

"Close enough to..." The courier twisted their face up in confusion for a moment, before realization set in and their eyes grew large. "You were... your... oh."

"Mmm-hm."

"Well, fuck me." The courier smiled and popped a cap off of another beer. "I've been doing all the talking, haven't I? Let's hear your story about working with the guys in power armor who ruined my life, right after dad did."

Craig Boone: Whenever the courier started up like this, Boone couldn't help but notice a familiar twinge of regret and self-doubt in their voice. It shone through most clearly when they spoke about their time with the Brotherhood of Steel, the men and women they'd fought alongside and lost during their struggle against the remnants of the Enclave. It was there, too, in their story about returning to the vault they grew up in, setting the chaos that had arisen in their wake to rest, but not being able to go back to the way things were.

Boone didn't pry. He knew that feeling well. Instead, he cracked open bottles of beer, liquor, soda, whatever they had on hand during their nights in the desert, and just listened. He'd done the same for Carla, when they were younger and new to each other and he couldn't get enough of her voice and how it flowed endlessly, easily, the way his never could. He absorbed it all now as he did then: The joy, the pain, the loss, the fear, the triumphs and falls and abandoned dreams that filled the courier up and drove them to travel west, beyond anything they had ever known.

That last part stumped Boone a bit, though. "Why didn't you stay?" he finally asked one night.

They looked surprised. "Stay? Stay where? I didn't have a home anymore."

Boone shook his head. "With the Brotherhood. Or some other settlement."

"Like Megaton?" The courier sighed. "I thought about it. Close to the vault, friendly people, easy work... I guess I just didn't want to wind up... stuck."

They flushed red and looked away from him. Boone knew why they were embarrassed, but he also knew the truth in their words.

Sometimes the courier cried after they had finished, though they did their best to hide it. Boone pretended not to notice. He was pretty sure they knew he was pretending, but he was also pretty sure that pointing it out would be worse than just letting it be an open secret between them. The silence between them endured, but something grew inside it and flourished. Some kind of deeper understanding.

Lily Bowen: The more the courier spoke, the more Lily made connections in her muddled mind. Of course they knew the basic layout of most vaults, they had grown up in one. Of course they were extra-sensitive to the Mojave heat, they had come to the desert from the cooler of the two coasts. Of course they'd been extra-wary around the super mutants or nightkin of Jacobstown, they had only known angry super mutants looking to grow their own numbers through any means necessary.

Their shared experience of growing up inside a vault reminded Lily of happier days, and she often asked questions about Vault 101 during the courier's stories. "Were you sweet on anyone inside your old home?" she asked, with a big smile befitting a proud grandma.

The courier blushed. "That's not very polite, Lily."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dearie."

"No, no it's okay." The courier smiled. "There was a boy who picked on me a lot, but I never figured out whether he did it because he hated me or liked me. His name was Butch. And there was Amata, my childhood friend. She was the daughter of the Overseer."

"Daughter of the Overseer?" Lily grinned. "I'm sure she was a lovely young woman."

The courier looked a little misty. "Yeah. She was. Probably still is."

Lily pulled a handkerchief that used to be a small tablecloth from inside her overalls and handed it over. "Maybe we can go back there together, pumpkin," she offered. "I always wanted to travel to the capital. We can visit your friends, see the sights."

"Yeah, maybe someday." The courier accepted the gift and blew their nose. "I've got some things I need to finish up here before I even think about wandering back east, though."

"Then let's make a list and do our chores," Lily said happily. "Number one?"

"Ohhhh, man." The courier smiled up at her. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul got a faint smile on his face whenever the courier started up like this, as if their memories reminded him of another place he had come from, another time. While they couldn't have more different backgrounds, pasts- hell, he had several hundred years on the courier, even if they shared the same road today- there was something in the description of the other roads they had walked that made him feel warm on a cold night.

"What's on your mind?" The courier asked him one night, when Raul's smile grew larger than usual.

"Nada, boss," he reassured them. "You're just a good reminder that I can change my mind about the future anytime I'd like. Tell me the one about that radio DJ again."

"Again?" The courier rolled their eyes. "Why? I could tell you a million stories about Underworld and all the ghouls that lived there, but all you want to hear about is Three Dog. You'd probably have more in common with the Underworld folks, honestly."

Raul nodded noncommittally. "Sí, but my favorite stories are about people who had to rise above bad situations and become someone uncommon. Anyone who's able to do that is either fighting for something great or running from something terrible. Sometimes both."

The courier shot him a skeptical look. "Three Dog's holed up in his radio station 24/7, he's not running from anything or out fighting for anything. All that stuff about 'the good fight' is a load of bull."

"Now, now, Six," Raul chastised. "Just because he looks like your average pendejo doesn't mean he isn't doing his part. You even told me his radio show is inspirational for the Capital Wasteland folks."

The courier held their hands up in the air and bobbled them, as if balancing an invisible scale. "The duality of man. Being an average pendejo, or convincing everyone around you that you aren't actually an average pendejo and can pull off miracles."

Raul laughed. "And which one are you, boss?"

"Eh, I'm still figuring it out."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass was never one for fixating on her own past, but she couldn't help but sympathize with the courier whenever they deigned to add onto their unbelievable story. It was hard enough for her to navigate her own damn life: She couldn't imagine being called upon to steer an entire area's destiny.

After another night of recalling their life inside a vault with their dad, then their unexpected loss of him right after being reunited on the surface, the courier stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry," they said.

Cass paused her swig of precious whiskey. "What?"

"I keep going on and on about my dad, and here you are not knowing what happened to yours."

"Eh." Cass took her drink and waved her hand around until the burning swallow made its way down. "S'loads of people in the wasteland without a clue what happened to their pops. I'm not special. In fact, I'd say it probably hurts a bit more, what happened with yours."

"Well, all the same." The courier sank deeper into their seat and examined their own bottle of spirits. "I feel like an open book, tonight. Anything you want to know about where I came from that I haven't already spilled?"

Cass thought for a moment. "Tribals."

"What about them?"

"Does the East Coast have them? You're not the first traveler I've met from there, but none of you have so much as mentioned any tribals out east."

"Mmm." The courier looked thoughtful. "I guess we do have them, though maybe not in the traditional sense. There's a mess of them in Point Lookout for sure, and at least one tribal group in the Capital Wasteland outright, but beyond that things are more... loose. Fewer intact families, fewer intact homes."

"Huh." Cass took another drink. "Maybe that's where my dad went."

She let the courier stew in the awkward silence for a bit before she grinned and reached out to smack them. "Just kidding. Keep going. I want to hear about that giant robot again."

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica usually sat and listened, spellbound, picturing a chapter of her order that had realized the very thing she kept trying to tell the Elders and made the ultimate sacrifice to follow their hearts anyway.

Well, maybe Elder Owyn Lyons hadn't come to the same realization as her, but he had had a change of heart that split his company and cut them off from almost everyone they had ever known. It had been five years since the High Elders had instituted radio silence toward their East Coast chapter, and so far there had been no attempts to re-establish contact.

Veronica prodded the courier for any info she could get about the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel. The courier let slip pretty early in their friendship that Elder Owyn Lyons had passed away, which wasn't unexpected. The man was 76 years old, after all. She learned on one particularly emotional night that his daughter, Elder Sarah Lyons, was also dead, something she wasn't sure even the Western Elders were aware of. That memory was clearly painful for the courier though, so Veronica didn't press for details.

"And the Enclave?" the Scribe asked one night, arms wrapped around her knees. "Are they completely gone?"

The courier grew cold. "Yes. I made sure of it."

"Right." Veronica nodded. "So the Brotherhood took over the air force base they were at. It must have been chock-full of tech and resources, if it was the Enclave's last stand."

"It was." The courier sighed and shifted in their seat. "And it woke up some of our brothers and sisters to their original mission in the Capital Wasteland. I thought maybe that selfishness had died with Liberty Prime, but... well, I didn't like it, so I left."

"Mmm, yeah." Veronica nodded again, sympathetically this time. "I know how you feel. Felt."

"Feel," the courier agreed. "I just wish there was more I could've done. Maybe there wasn't anything else, short of seizing power."

"You'd definitely get pushback for that in the Brotherhood," Veronica agreed. "But you might get that chance out here in the broader Mojave."

ED-E: At first, ED-E enjoyed the stories, trumpeting and cooing various beeps at the appropriate moments for emphasis. The one time the courier began badmouthing the Enclave, however, the eyebot waited until they had finished before playing back the first tape that Dr. Whitley had recorded before its trip.

The courier listened to the scientist's words from years ago, deflating slightly as it played out. When the tape had finished, they stood up and checked the eyebot over. "He sent you toward Navarro, huh?"

ED-E beeped affirmation, and the courier sighed. "But Navarro was already gone. I'm sorry. I guess I'm... well, me and the Brotherhood of Steel back east are responsible for your previous master's decision to send you away. Might be responsible for more, too."

ED-E beeped sadly. The courier pressed their forehead against the eyebot's metal dome in apology.

Rex: Well, surprising for most. Rex was not most. As soon as the courier got really into their recollections, Rex usually yawned and went to sleep. He stirred when he felt their hand reach down to scratch the ruff of his neck, or pat the glass dome that held his brain.

"Good dog," the courier said, through the veil of sleep. "You remind me of another pup that used to follow me around."

[h2bakugou]

Hello dear friend~~May I ask what would be main 3+denki reaction to having a crush on a girl who never studies, and always does her homework in the morning before the class, and then when the results of their exams come out she's in the top5 and they just dont understand how she can have such good grades with how little she studies because she doesnt show that shes actually really smart? ☺️ (happened to me, everyone is shooketh when they found out my grades bc I have a rebel spirit about study?)

a/n: hi hun!! of course! i felt this, i never really studied unless i needed to, or i really didn’t understand something and i think i did pretty okay. but now i’m a drop out so- kjfhdjg i’m going to be doing online school soon though because i’d like to get my high school diploma.

headcanon: them with a crush on someone who never studies but excels in class

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: fluff, swearing

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

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Bakugou doesn’t expect you to do very well. It’s the honest truth. 

He’s watched you every morning, scramble to finish your homework, and somehow manage to write legible answers with how fast your hand moves.

And before every test, he doesn’t see you study at all. It’s like you barely even keep notes.

In fact, he’s almost certain you don’t even keep notes at all. He was willing to bet that the notebook that rested on your desk during note time was promptly filled with doodles and random drawings, maybe even a to-do list or something.

But, all that aside, Bakugou has the fattest crush on you. This man is fucking smitten till the day he dies.

Everything about you astounds him, he’s never seen anyone like you.

And it goes to say that when you come out second in class, under him, he’s fucking confused and amazed at the same time.

He wants to ask you a million questions on how you did, ask if you cheated off of him somehow but he knows that’s not even remotely true.

His idea of trying to ask you out is getting you to study with him.

“Oi.” Bakugou approaches you after class, walking back toward your dorm.

“Oh, hey Bakugou.” You smile at him. You had a crush on him too, but neither side knew the other’s feelings.

“We’re studying together tomorrow. Meet me in the library and don’t be late.” Bakugou storms off, totally chad-like he’s thinking he’s just scored you and everything.

y/n.exe has stopped working.

You know he knows you don’t study.

You show up anyway and you can’t help but laugh because it’s certainly not studying that you two are doing in the library.

Somehow he’s managed to lead you to the library just to take you out on a date somewhere because there’s no book bag in sight, not even a book moved from the shelf.

“Alright let’s go.” Bakugou smirks.

“You could’ve just asked me out on a date in the first place.” You tease him.

“Shut up.” He huffs, smiling.

It’s a really good date.

»»————-　★　————-««

izuku midoriya

»»————-　★　————-««

Midoriya has probably asked you to help him study once or twice. He knows you’re up pretty high in class, you have great grades, but he’;s confused as fuck when you turn him down.

“What?” He blinks at you, confused.

“It’s not that I don’t want to! I’d love to but I uh don’t really study.” You mumble, avoiding his gaze.

“But you have amazing grades-”

“And I finish all my worksheets right before class starts, it’s just how I do things.” You look back up at him and smile.

“I can try my hardest to help, but studying isn’t really my strong suit, I think I get lower grades when I study.”

from that point on, I think Midoriya probably finds you that much more fascinating.

He loves to learn more about you, and knowing that you can finish a big project the morning it’s due and make a top grade, he’s blown away.

He starts to realize he likes you when you start hanging around him more.

You help him as best you can when he comes to you for answers, you’re very smart, you just have a very different way of doing your work from him.

When he finally decides to make the move, he’s shitting bricks. He’s nervous, and totally freaking out because he doesn’t even know if you like him.

“Uh hey, (Y/n)?” Midoriya pulls you aside after class, stopping you before you leave the classroom.

“What is it Izu?” You ask, having given him the cute nickname after being on a first name basis with him.

“I was wondering, well if you’d like to go on a date with me.” Midoriya gained some confidence after the sentence came out, looking at you with determination and affection.

“Sure, when and where?” You smiled, feeling your face begin to heat up.

“Wherever you want, there’s a really nice restaurant that opened up nearby-”

“Sounds like fun.” You glance away and smile. You had butterflies in your stomach.

“Are you nervous?” Midoriya asked, watching as you seemed to be a little anxious yourself.

“A little. My crush just asked me out so...” You giggle.

“You’re nervous about me asking you out but not finishing a project the day it’s due?!”

“Those are two totally different things!”

»»————-　★　————-««

shoto todoroki

»»————-　★　————-««

I feel like Todoroki knows from the get go that you don’t study. He never sees you in the study groups, or in the library. He always sees you doing some sort of paperwork in the morning, and he catches on rather quickly that it’s last night’s homework, or an assignment from earlier on in the week.

Still, he can’t jump to conclusions just yet.

He overhears Kirishima talking to Kaminari about you. He’s not trying to eavesdrop on their conversation but he’s curious nonetheless.

“Yeah, I don’t think they study at all.” Kirishima tells Kaminari.

Todoroki is pretty intrigued now.

Starts investigating to see if you actually study or not. And when he doesn’t find anything to say that you do, he just waits for the exam results to come back.

He knows you didn’t study, no one accounted for you at any study groups, and Sero even said you’d gone to bed after training that afternoon.

When the results come back, Todoroki is dumbfounded.

You did better than him. You landed a whole three spots above him. 

Todoroki makes it his goal to talk to you now. And you two become really good friends, and Todoroki develops this crush on you.

He’s not sure how it even happened, all he knows is he likes you and everything about you intrigues him.

So when you’re hanging out in his dorm room, just talking and chilling out, he asks if you want to study for the next quiz coming up.

“Oh I don’t actually study.” You giggle, looking at the half-and-half boy you had a crush on.

“You don’t?” Todoroki restates, finally confirming all his suspicions.

“Nope. It doesn’t really do much for me, I’ve never really studied.” 

From then on out, Todoroki enjoys when you accompany him while he studies. He studies alone just to be able to spend time with you.

Especially when he asks you out.

“(Y/n)?” Todoroki glances up from his work sheet and you look up from the book he’d lent you to read while he worked on his assignments.

“Yeah Sho?” You smile at him, closing the book, holding your spot with your thumb.

“Would you like to go on a date after school soon?” He asks, getting the question he’d been wanting to ask off his chest finally.

“Yes.” Your eyes lit up at his question and you could feel your face getting hotter by the second.

“You look hot.” Todoroki comments on your flustered face which only deepens at his comment.

“I didn’t mean- I mean you are very beautiful but your face looked hot as in temperature.” Todoroki’s own face begins to flush at his fumbled words as you begin to smile and laugh.

“You’re too cute.” You grin at him. He smiles back and returns to his work, ready to take you on that date.

»»————-　★　————-««

denki kaminari

»»————-　★　————-««

Kaminari has no clue. He’s oblivious. I don’t think he’s as stupid as people make him seem but he certainly doesn’t catch on right away, it takes a bit of time.

And one loud mouthed explosive blonde haired friend of his to point it out.

“I was gonna ask them to study with us after class.” Kaminari states, telling the group about his first move to try and ask you out. He’s had a crush on you since he laid eyes on you, and he’s shooting his shot.

“You dumbass. They don’t study.” Bakugou groans, looking over at you, scrambling to finish your homework.

“That’s the homework from last night.” Bakugou points out to Kaminari and his eyes go wide.

“There’s no way they’re going to pass!” Kaminari exclaims.

“We have to go help them!” Kaminari is about to go rush over to you but Kirishima stops him and laughs.

“Just wait, you’ll see.” Kirishima reassures Kaminari.

And sure enough, when the homework gets returned, Kaminari watches as your paper returns with the highest marking. You passed. With a perfect score.

This doesn’t stop Kaminari from shooting said shot though. He’s trying even harder. He’s determined.

"So there’s that big test coming up.” Kaminari began talking to you about three weeks ago, you’ve become friends, and you both have mutual feelings for one another that the other doesn’t know about, but it’s pretty obvious to the surrounding friends in the Bakusquad.

He’s talking to you about the test coming up with all of the subjects you’ve covered so far, a bit of a mid-term if you will.

“I’m a little nervous about it if I’m being honest.” You admit, taking a bite of your lunch.

“Do you wanna study with us later tonight?” Kaminari asks, feeling volts coarse through his veins as he awaits your answer.

“Studying isn’t really my thing. It’s not that I don’t want too! Please don’t think I’m trying to avoid you guys.” You bite your lip and look away trying to come up with the right words to say.

“Studying crams my brain and I don’t really think fluidly when the test comes, I get worse grades when I study then when I don’t.”

“I’ll stop by after with snacks and drinks so you don’t feel left out then.” Kaminari grins, his amber eyes full of excitement.

And sure enough, he stops by, a few slices of pizza and some soda in hand.

“So I was thinking, me and you.” Kaminari starts. You’re playing some video games before lights out.

“Me and you?” You question, currently beating Kaminari in Mario Kart.

“Yeah like, would you wanna go out sometime?” He asks, smiling.

“Sure, that could be a lot of fun.” Your face begins to heat up, and you lose your spot to Kaminari as your mind begins to scream with excitement. You feel your heart beating faster.

“Wait really?” Kaminari turns to look at you pausing the game.

“Yes. I like you, and I want to go on ad ate with you.” You smile, setting the controller down.

“Oh this is awesome!” Kaminari hugs you.

The next day when the test is over, the Bakusquad stands dumbfounded as you pass the test with the highest score, even beating Bakugou.

Kaminari is proud.

»»————-　★　————-««

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