#each other and i just!!!!! I CARE THEM SO MUCH

[nightingale-prompts]

Lay Me to Rest- DCxDP Prompt

Warning: Blood and gore

There has been a series of murders across the country. Each death was varied and self-inflicted. At first, they all seemed like suicide but each had a strange range of symptoms before death.

Sudden paranoia, incoherent mumbling, screaming or yelling, going in and out of their homes sporadically, random fixations, and finally self-harm.

The victims were teachers, parents, businessmen, truckers, and even a crime novelist. All unrelated and in different states.

Each victim didn't seem to have a connection until an investigation discovered that each one had been an active serial killer. The body counts ranged from as little as 5 to as much as 23. The killer was named the Serial Serial Killer which wasn't creative but it was catchy. Some called them the Angel of Vengeance but most thought it was cringy and overdramatic. Many people didn't want them to be caught but others hotly debated letting a killer dispense justice when their crusade could easily turn into them killing people for innocuous things.

The police were still questioning whether this killer even existed. One thing was clear, there was a trail and it led straight to Gotham. A goldmine for them. Naturally, Batman had gotten a hold on the case and began an investigation.

The biggest question was how the killer found their victims and how they knew that they were killers.

The answer was obvious. They didn't need to figure it out. They just needed to wait. Why just in the effort to investigate when a serial killer tries to convince you to leave with them? So bars are the obvious place. But that's shaky at best since there is a period of torment that takes place that allows the victims to return home. The killer doesn't care if the victims could call the police, perhaps because they know their victim won't.

Bruce started to build a profile. He saw a pattern here. Each of the victims had a preference for their victims as well. They targeted young people, mainly boys. Odds are the Serial Serial Killer matched that description or age range. So bars weren't the hunting ground. So parks were more likely to go unnoticed and boys tended to hang out there longer after dark.

The killer was more than likely a victim himself so he may have a few scars but probably not noticeable enough that his would-be assailants would be turned off. There is no ignoring the predatory nature of the victims. Each killed children for gratification in some form. It's not that the boy is attractive but he probably has traits that the victims found attractive in children. So babyfaced, short, native, and polite.

There was much else Bruce could get. There was nothing concrete and he still didn't understand the method that was used. So far this was guesswork.

It wasn't until a few weeks later while he tracking another killer that he found his answer.

Dr.Kinder a Biologist by day and a killer who experiments on his victims at night had picked up a promising new lab rat a week ago. He had intended to slowly dissect the boy. He had gotten so used to the screams he stopped using anesthetics besides he wanted to see how the fear response caused the organs to shift.

To his surprise the boy didn't fight, in fact he seemed to jump to the table and say he didn't need restraints. Disturbing. But he was restrained anyways.

As the doctor cut him open the boy didn't react, only humming to himself as he watched the doctor.

"What are you hoping to find?" He asked. "I'm getting bored and this bearly hurts."

The boy annoyingly never stopped talking and never missed a chance to ruin the moment. There were never any screams or cries but incessant talking.

Dr.Kinder found the boy disturbing so he simply took an axe and chopped the boy into pieces. Not once did he make a sound. The doctor thought it was over but the next day the boy was back. He sat on the autopsy table kicking his feet in nothing but his bare skin.

"What the hell are you?" The doctor gasped in horror.

"I'm bored. Play with me again." The boy purred.

Bile crawled up his throat as the doctor restained this...thing again.

This time the boy spoke differently.

"You cut me up last time. Did you do that to the last boy. After you...you know." A sick grin spread across his cheeks.

The doctor cut open his neck this time and let him bleed out.

Everyday he came back and every day the doctor killed him until the time between his death got shorter and shorter. The days began to blur and he had no idea how long he had been doing this. But that thing kept talkimg to him.

Dr.Kinder stared down at his desk at the papers trying to think of anything but-

"I wonder what people would think about what you've done. You're a disgusting and depraved man doctor. Look at what you've done to me." The sing-song voice of that demon called out.

He could feel those blood-soaked arms wrapped around his neck.

He flinch as he pushed the thing away.

"Oh, are you going to beat me or stab me this time? Ooo, or are you going to put me through the woodchipper again?" The demon asked as the doctor wrapped his hands around his throat.

He just kept squeezing until the boy went limp. It never ends. The blood never goes away. It covered every surface of the room. Dripping, conjugating, and spreading into every corner. Whenever he turned his head he could see body parts spread across the room in the pools of blood he could they the faces of the others that he had killed. Each face wretched in agony.

"You hold on better than the others. I've been eaten, torched, and disemboweled before but after coming back a few times they usually end it after a few words. But every time they don't feel guilt. They just don't want to face consequences." The boy said. "Do you even remember my name? The one I told you when you picked me up on the side of the road or was I just another body to use and discard? I used the name of your first victim. I hoped you'd notice."

The doctor knew he couldn't kill the boy but he could end himself. He had tried it once but just like the kid he came back without a scratch.

"Not yet. This is your life now. Come on, let's taste death together. Again and again and again and again and-" he repeated over and over.

This was hell. This was his hell.

But it came to an end eventually. Dr.Kinder put an end to himself in a gruesome display.

Batman had only caught the tail end as he faced a young boy standing an a pool of blood.

****

"Yeah, that thing is like a worse version of a revenant. Doesn't really have a name yet to describe it. It's undead for sure. You kill it and it just comes back." Constantine said "Why did you bring it here?"

After a long bath and some new clothes, the kid looked normal as played on a phone given to him.

"Look, I didn't know what else to do." Bruce explained.

"You leave it alone!" Constantine said exasperated "Look they are harmless to anything they don't bear a grudge towards. Think of it as a force of nature." Constantine said.

"I just want to know how to stop him." Bruce said.

"Well you can't kill it but you can't bring him back entirely. You can just soothe it 'till it stops targeting its victims. It must have died pretty gruesomely to go to these lengths. You need to find where it died and lay it to rest. Properly." Constantine sighed knowing that appeasing this soul would be more than just difficult.

"Danny, come on. Let's go." Bruced said putting a hand on the boy's head as Danny stood up to leave.

"Okay. Bye!" Danny waved to Constantine.

[demaparbat-hp]

Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍

Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!

Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?

SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.

Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.

SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.

His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.

AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.

His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)

KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...

She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.

She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).

TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?

Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.

Zuko. ZUKO.

Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.

This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.

The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.

In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.

He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.

In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.

But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.

When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.

He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.

He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.

As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.

He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.

Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.

In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...

Two someones, actually.

Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...

Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.

Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.

Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.

Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...

Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.

(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)

.

Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?

If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️

[lovemomhatepolice]

i'll make it fit - rafe cameron

navigation taglist requests

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: sexual overtones, established relationship, fingering, teasing, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), this damn tiny polo!!, English is my second language!, NO SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!

type: totally smut (this is the first time i've written something like this, which has practically no plot at all, just sex itself. keep my fingers crossed that it didn't turn out badly!!!), small plot but really small

word count: 1,8k

summary: rafe cameron likes things too small for him.

more content: obx masterlist, rafe cameron masterlist

Mornings in Tannyhill were mostly quiet. Since Ward Cameron was dead and his entire family had moved to a house in the Bahamas, it was quiet there. Hearing of Sarah had disappeared - she was probably somewhere with her friends, again putting her life at risk, nothing new. And the only one who lived there was Rafe, who had taken over the company from his father and decided to return to the “old garbage.” Well, and you lived there too, by the side of your beloved. You couldn't have dreamed of a better life.

You were awakened by the bright rays of the sun, which rudely crept through the slightly parted curtains into your shared bedroom. You dragged yourself lightly and glanced at the clock, which was on the bedside table and, as usual, was making that unbearable sound.

After muttered under your breath, you slipped out from under the warm quilt, which, to say the least, wasn't all that necessary - after all, it was summer. But by the fact that you were in just a lace petticoat, it definitely enveloped you with a warmth that was missing.

You didn't know what time it was, but by the fact that Rafe wasn't next to you, you knew it was probably after nine o'clock. You didn't have to look for him for long, because as soon as you stepped out into the hallway from your bedroom, you heard his voice. You looked out the balcony door, which was gently open, and smiled at the sight. Rafe, in a freshly stitched buzzcut, was sitting on the couch talking on the phone. In front of him on the coffee table he had papers spread out and a laptop in which he was busily tapping something. As soon as he noticed you he sent you a slight smile, but he was so engaged in the conversation that he did nothing more. And you couldn't be passive, after all, he was wearing a beautiful blue and damn tight polo that exposed his perfectly shaped biceps. You laughed quietly, seeing him nervously tweak them as they rolled up higher and higher each time, not covering as much of his arm as they should.

Despite his serious tone on the call, his eyes would flicker toward you every few moments, his smile softening just enough to let you know he was glad you were there.

Not one to resist temptation, you decided to have a little fun. You strolled over to him, moving slowly, letting your fingers trail along the back of the couch as you circled around to where he was sitting. Rafe’s eyes darted up, narrowing slightly in a silent warning.

You didn’t make it easy for him. With a mischievous smile, you leaned over and whispered into his ear, "That polo looks a little tight, don’t you think? You might need help taking it off later."

“Uh, yeah… sure,” he said to the person on the other end of the call, clearing his throat as if to regain his composure. “Send it to the office, they'll take care of it,” he muttered, hanging up.

You moved your hands over his shoulders, gently massaging them. Rafe put the phone down on the table, closed the laptop and leaned his head against the back of the couch, looking at you.

“You know what you're doing, huh?” he parroted under his breath.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, letting your breath tickle his skin. “Just trying to make sure my man relaxes after handling all that business.”

“And what am I supposed to do with you?” he muttered, covering yours with his hands. “Whatever you want,” you muttered, going down with your palms on his chest. “Oh, but this polo is really too small for you.” Rafe laughed under his breath and gracefully helped you past the couch so that you were now standing in front of him, between his legs. You were in just a white lace slip that didn't cover much underneath, so Rafe could immediately see your hardening nipples.

You let out a soft laugh as Rafe’s strong hands gripped your thighs, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap. You straddled him, your knees sinking into the plush cushions of the couch on either side of his hips. The way he looked up at you—like you were the only thing in the world that could hold his attention—sent a warm rush through your veins.

"So needy" He muttered, stroking your hair and putting it behind your ears. “Who would have thought that you would beg for my attentions so much?”

“I'm not begging,” you muttered, swallowing your saliva loudly.

You could have sworn that in that moment Rafe heard your loud heartbeat. And even though you had been together for more than a year, he continued to trigger the same feelings in you. “No?” he asked ironically, his hand touching your pussy, which was covered only by a thong. “I would say something else.”

“Rafe,” you muttered, gently pushing your hips out to meet him as his nimble fingers pressed your clit harder. “So wet,” he mumbled, moving your panties aside and nimbly sliding his ring and middle finger into you.

You brought your face closer to his and grabbed his jaw, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss. It was still quiet around you, the only things you could hear were the birds and your moans, drowned out by your boyfriend's mouth.

His thumb moved to your clit, the touch was light, teasing, his fingers tracing slow circles that sent tingles up your spine. And his fingers didn't stop moving up and down, each time hitting the exact same spot. Rafe knew what the fuck he was doing, he always knew how to make you in heaven in a moment by his precise movements. He knew your body like no one else, just like you knew his.

“Cum for me, baby,” he said, moving his lips to your naked neck. You felt you were close - Rafe did the same, following the feeling as you pulsed on his fingers. You didn't have to wait long until your body shook with pleasant and familiar reflexes, and you came on his fingers, burying your head in his neck.

Rafe took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth, sucking on them. Oh this sight and Rafe in his damn tight blue polo, was something too strong for you to go through. You moved against his lap, letting him know that this was not what you wanted. “Still eager, huh?” he laughed throatily, but you didn't have to wait long. Rafe always knew what you needed and you got it right away. "You taste so good, baby"

“Rafe please,” you muttered, clasping your small hand over his large cock, which was getting harder and harder under you. “Anything for you,” he muttered, quickly getting rid of his pants.

Without much warning, he entered you. Slowly at first, because you knew very well that he was big. And even after so many times together, you continued to feel a slight discomfort at first. But Rafe always made it fit. He couldn't resist your tight pussy, which was even screaming for his attention. “Fuck, tight as ever,” he whispered, correcting himself on the couch so that you were more comfortable. “But don't worry, I'll make it fit.”

And as he said, so he did. With agility, he began to move inside you, making both of you nothing but moaning messes.

“Wait, I want,” you said, putting your hand on his chest. On that damn sexy polo. “Oh, a princess wants to take control?” he laughed under his breath, catching you under the thighs, but as if on cue he stopped moving inside you, making you feel again how big he was inside you. You groaned involuntarily, but didn't give in. You moved nimbly on top of him, practically taking him out of your pussy every now and then, and then lowering yourself all the way down again.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his head falling back against the couch, exposing the strong line of his throat. His eyes were hooded, his lips parted as he watched you, completely entranced by the way you were moving, the way you were making him feel.

You could tell he was trying to hold back, trying to let you set the pace, but the way his fingers flexed against your skin told you just how badly he wanted to take control.

“Not yet, Rafey,” you muttered, moving even closer to him. “You deserve the best. Especially, when you're in that slutty polo"

You increased your pace, but Rafe couldn't stand it anymore either, and came against you, entering your pussy from below. At that moment your bodies were merging at the perfect moments and places, so you were already not far from orgasm. And with that, he captured your lips again, his kiss rougher this time, more urgent. There was no more teasing now-just the raw, unfiltered need that always simmered between you both, threatening to spill over the edges.

“I'm so close,” you whispered into his mouth, clamping your pussy against him every so often. “I know, baby, I can feel it,” he muttered into your mouth, gently biting your lip to reach inside again. "Mmm, so good for me"

Rafe grabbed your buttocks and with even more force began to pound his cock into you. Your tongues fought for dominance, and your hands couldn't find room on his body, clamping down on the collars of his shirt.

"Shit" he murmured into your lips, feeling as his cum shot into your pussy, making quite a mess.

Not much later you too reach climax, clenching around his dick. Exhausted, you leaned on his shoulder kissing his neck. Rafe stroked your back, still calming down after the orgasm that hit you surprisingly hard this time. You felt him smiling over your shoulder, so you shared his happiness, smiling too. You moved your head off his shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes now. He was still inside you, so every movement, made quiet sighs come out of your throats.

“What's so funny?” you asked, stroking his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth gently.

“Maybe I should wear that tight polo more often, just to find yourself in your tight cunt again?” he laughed lightly, returning your kiss.

“Oh shut up, asshole,” you muttered, lowering yourself on top of him once more until he groaned and settled his head on the back of the couch, pulling you against him.

A/N: I know there's a lot of Rafe or Drew here lately, but I swear, when I see this man, I feel so ungodly that oh jesus, i hope you enjoyed this

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[obxanon]

Addressing the OBX drama and the speculations:

Was JJ’s Death planned?

No, Rudy asked to leave the show. It wasn’t something the writers planned. He didn’t want to renew, the writers were rightfully upset and then decided to kill JJ off.

Did the writers/producers create an uncomfortable set?

No, they didn’t. This post is not true. The brothers were never inappropriate.

Was Madison a bully on set?

I’ve seen a post going around of someone saying Madison was a bully, controlling the set, and bluntly treating Rudy and crew members like crap. That is NOT true. 

Was Rudy’s decision sudden?

Yes and No. No as in he let the Pates know ahead of time he didn’t want to continue (some time during the strike, so they had time to change what was already written). Yes, as in they were shocked by it.

Was there on set drama between Rudy and the Pates?

Yes, there was many disagreements/personal problems during s4. Yes, Elaine was involved and so was Lilah Pate. They are civil now.

Why did every ship but Jiara get a still?

The jiara still does exist but idk why it was not released. My source doesn’t know either and I don’t want to spread something not true. Rudy and Madison took pictures just like everybody else did.

Why did the cast chemistry seem off in part 2?

They shot episodes 1-5 first, THEN 10, then 6-9. The cast didn’t know rudy asked to leave until they received the script for episode 10. You can tell there was a drastic change between JJ and Kiara in part 2 because after the cast found out, Madison was upset with Rudy and his decision, so she didn’t put in as much effort into the scenes with him. She was upset because she knew that would mean the near end of obx and her character… in a way.

Was there alternate endings?

Yes, but that was only because they wanted to see if rudy would change his mind. There was even scenes where a funeral was shot (obviously they didn’t air it so I’m assuming they’re saving it for s5). From March-June of 2024, they spent the entire time doing reshoots of some scenes. That is why some things don’t make sense.

Did Rudy and Madison talk on set?

Yes, but not closely or anything. They’re not friends, they just did the scenes they had to do and that was it. All those people saying they’re hiding their friendship from the cameras or whatever… that is not true sorry. The pates can’t force them to act like best friends as long as they were doing their scenes.

Why did Jiara have “less” than everybody else?

It’s true that Jiara scenes were toned down. Part of it was Rudy asking for it. Madison didn’t care as much. Another part was just Rudy and Madison not doing more than what the script asked.

Was Elaine uncomfortable with Jiara scenes?

Yes, and she has been since s2. It got worse during s3 and obviously s4. That was part of the conflict.

What is the Rudy and Madison Drama?

Obviously what happened between them is private. It wasn’t the fans. The fans were more so the catalyst to something that had been brewing. 

It is true that the girlfriends are involved and that they weren’t happy. Madison hurt Rudy, but not by being a bully. It was emotionally. The feeling was then returned on his end and it just got worse from there. It didn’t help when the girlfriends and fans were involved. It is true that it’s not a coincidence this happened when they both got involved with relationships. Most of you have speculated correctly, that is all I will say. I think you know by now what I’m trying to say.

Also when I say fans, I don’t mean the “shipping.” They never cared about that. What I do mean is that all this drama happened when Jiara fans were at their peak. Them wanting to see those characters together put Rudy and Madison in a problematic situation because they knew they couldn’t avoid each other on screen. Instead they just did so off screen.

Should the Writers/ Directors/ Producers stepped in?

Yes, but what I need you guys to understand is that these writers were basically father figures to those actors. They watched them grow their careers, supported them, made them who they are now. It’s hard when you spent so much time with each other and became a genuine family. Even their conflict with Elaine was hard because Jonas knew her family, his wife treated her like a daughter, and lilah treated her like a sister. They had every right to be bitter because from their POV, it’s basically like “hey I trusted you to bring my project to life and now I’m being forced to go in a direction I never wanted to go in.”

What’s going on behind the scenes right now?

A mess. They knew it would be bad but infact it is worse and they know that.

Am I reliable?

Honestly I don’t care if you believe me or not. You didn’t before and I got attacked (literal death threats in my inbox). I’m just a messenger. I’ve given you info before and clearly I didn’t lie about it. It’s up to you to decide.

[needsdean]

THIS. THIS. THIS IS EXACTLY WHY THIS SCENE OF THEM IS MY FAVORITE, I KNOW THE WHOLE DIALOGUE BY HEART.

And the fact Merlin tells him "I wish I didn't... but I do" and looks at him ON PURPOSE to make Arthur figure that "I understand what you're saying because I'd do the exact same for you". AND ARTHUR SMILES THAT WAY BECAUSE HE GETS IT. AND HE'S SO PROUD AND HAPPY AND HEARTENED, THEY MAKE ME

I L L

There’s something so sweet about this scene. Not only Arthur is surrounded by his knights, his friends, he still can’t seem to forget there’s someone missing.

And the way he approaches Merlin is nothing funny or sarcastic: it’s pure concern, it’s love, it’s respect.

Merlin admits he’s scared, without thinking about it twice, because yes, this is Arthur, the same man who makes fun of me on a daily, but he’s also my best friend, the man I love, and who I could lose, but I can’t tell him, but, oh God, if he needs to know I don’t want him to die. I’m the most powerful warlock on earth, yet I’m scared of Morgana, because she wants to kill Arthur, and I’m weak when it comes to him, I’m scared I won’t be able to protect him as I should (especially since Merlin has heard the prophecy that spoke of Arthur’s bane).

I like Arthur’s stunned face. Merlin is referring to his life. “You don’t care you could die?” And not only Arthur is shocked by it, because he thought Merlin knew his reasonings by now, knew that Arthur would never risk losing his knights, losing Merlin. But Arthur doesn’t care as long as his men are safe, as long as Merlin’s safe (because, let’s be honest, this conversation is nothing but a way for them to tell each other how they feel towards one another, without exposing themselves to the danger of this revelation). And Arthur needs to make something clear:

“Only about you.” Because Arthur brings Merlin everywhere like he’s a solider, a warrior, someone who knows how to fight with a sword, who’s an asset to Camelot and the kingdom itself, so he considers him an equal, someone he can sit with on a lower step and chat with about his fears, because he can be vulnerable with Merlin. Arthur knows he’s safe with him.

Arthur includes Merlin in his speech, and this is something that could mean, “Oh, so Merlin isn’t a friend, isn’t a brother, he’s so much more.” This scene is so impactful, because it’s one of those rare moments where Arthur shows how deeply he can love, how much risk he’s willing to take to bring peace to his kingdom and to his people: to the ones he loves.

And he knows his knights, he knows Merlin won’t abandon him, because he has never done it, and Arthur truly believes Merlin has no reason to do it now, even if he’s scared. It’s as if Arthur is asking, just to make sure, just to have the confirmation that they think the same of it.

And they do:

I wish I didn’t understand how much I’m willing to risk, and have already risked for you. Because this is why I’m here: for you and only for you.

The self deprecating smile, because Merlin can’t back down, he never will. He’s so frightened, yet not even the prospect of battling against Morgana and her army will make him run.

He has Arthur to protect.

The way he smiles, it’s as if he’s saying, “Why didn’t I understand this sooner? Arthur’s just like me.” But it’s the fact that they told each other this, they know now, after ten years, that they’re willing to do anything and more for the other to stay safe, to be alive, even if one of them isn’t.

Merlin tells Arthur. He watches him intensely, because Arthur needs to understand. He’s honest.

Arthur gets it, and he’s finally happy. He’s relieved that Merlin won’t abandon him, that he will stay by his side, like he always is, protecting him, fighting with him, and helping him.

Arthur smiles at Merlin like he’s seeing him for the first time, and he falls in love with him just that tad bit more.

[fancyfeathers]

Okay so I see a lot of Yandere!Batfam with a darling who is one of the children in the family but what I don’t see is Yandere!Batfam with two darlings, a single mother with a daughter.

Based on this quick post I made (link)

Like just picture the mother!darling being a rich sweetheart of Bruce Wayne’s at one point, perhaps even being his fiancé bit was the engagement was called off by her because of his work as Batman. She did not want her husband keeping secrets from her, and then imagine if they had a child one day, what sort of life would it be for them?

Well that question certainly comes to life when she finds out she is pregnant just days after leaving Bruce. She has far too much pride to go back to him and scared what life her baby would live with their father being in danger every night. She gives birth and raises her daughter herself, beginning to travel in the world for her work, leaving Gotham just as Bruce takes in Dick Grayson.

Years go by and she raises her own child and Bruce takes in his own children. Of course they hear about each other in the press but really have not paid much mind until she is back in Gotham, attending a charity event at a hotel. Her daughter is up in their hotel room, asleep or so she hopes anyway, and she is sipping on a glass of champagne while making meaningless small talk and then like as if out of a scene from a movie both she and Bruce spot each other from across the room. Conversation between the two is unavoidable especially with Dick trying to push the two together but it is sour quickly with her quietly chewing him out for choosing his vigilante identity over her and-

“Ma’am, your daughter just woke up, a nightmare.”

The conversation is cut short by one of the hotel staff speaking out to her while holding a little girl’s hand who is standing there in her nightgown, eyes full of tears while she clutches her stuffed animal. Bruce just watches as his ex-fiancé takes care of her daughter, his daughter, excusing herself from the party to put her back to bed. Then when the end of the party comes and people have started to leave he finds her again and asks her the question…

“Is she mine? Your daughter…”

“…Yes… she is… I-I am sorry Bruce, I have to go.”

She runs off upstairs and he is just left there starstruck and with his own kids not too far away and listening into their conversation. So when they all arrive back at the manor Bruce is due to give an explanation about the woman who is the mother of Bruce’s daughter, Damian’s half sister, and who might as well be the little sister of the rest of the lot.

So with a bit of planning the kids come up with a way to add a few people into their family, a mother and a little sister…

Dick goes to visit them at the hotel, calling beforehand and asking her to meet husband in the hotel lounge to talk. He tries to convince her to come back, her daughter needs to know who her father and brothers are, and Bruce misses her and she cannot deny that she love Bruce at one point and-

That plan goes up in flames as she runs upstairs, rejecting Dick’s idea.

Then that falls to plan B with Jason.

This wasn’t actually intended to be a plan, just Jason keeping an eye on the little girl from afar to make sure nothing happened to her while she was out with her nanny, after all Gotham is a dangerous place. She and her nanny were just supposed to be out running errands before they leave Gotham but she just happened to be separated from the nanny and alone in the dangerous streets. It is only a matter of time before someone tries to snatch her up, the daughter of a rich woman, she would be perfect to hold for ransom. Luckily Jason, or rather, Red Hood is there in time to save her, telling her to go in the corner and cover her eyes while he deals with them. He hushes her as he wraps her up in his jacket, telling her to keep her eyes shut as he carries her out of there, he doesn’t want her to see the pools of blood he is walking through as he is carrying his little sister out of there.

Then when he returns to Wayne Manor with her, Damian looks after her while Jason explains what happened to Bruce. It isn’t safe for them, she could have been killed or worse if it wasn’t for him. Eventually Bruce caves and agrees to their plan of getting them both back.

Bruce goes to go see his ex-fiancé who is in a state of panic because her daughter is missing. Bruce sits her down and tells her daughter is safe and taken care of at Wayne Manor but there is a problem, her daughter’s kidnapping will be seen as child neglect if Bruce chose to file for custody of his daughter. If that was not enough to get her cave in he shows her a file of blackmail Tim had gathered on her which also shows old not look good to the court, so he asks her one thing with only one answer to it…

“Will you marry me?”

“…fine…”

Then not to far down the line there is a white wedding that should have happened years ago, and as Bruce and his wife exchange rings, say I do, and kiss, their children watch…

Her daughter is not a fool, she knows something wrong, she just has no way of telling anyone as Dick holds her on his hip as if she weighs nothing, and Jason fixes her flower girl dress for the pictures that Tim is already taking and has been throughout the ceremony.

[seungcheorry]

it should bother seungkwan, but it doesn't. if anything, the tiny little bit of jealousy he's feeling gets drowned by the heartwarming sensation he gets when he sees his friend leaning into your touch.

seungkwan is vernon's personal face-toucher (he tells himself that's a real thing), everyone knows it. he loves the boy so much, considers him to be the brother he never truly had - all 12 of them, to be honest. but vernon is just his favorite, he never denied that.

so to see you, vernon's new partner, taking his role as you caress your boyfriend's cheek, letting him rest his head on your shoulder... it makes seungkwan scoff.

he wants to tease vernon, to make him blush in your presence - but he doesn't. he doesn't because his brother seems so comfortable right now, so at ease. he deserves that.

maybe you two can gang up on vernon. maybe you and seungkwan can finally fix vernon's bad habits, take care of him. he should befriend you, for sure.

vernon notices how seungkwan is politely trying not to stare, but he can see right through his brother. he smiles, raising his head from your shoulder.

"don't be jealous, seungkwan-ah. my ears are still yours", he teases.

you smile at seungkwan too, promising him that you won't touch vernon's ears. you don't mind sharing your boyfriend; if anything, seungkwan came around first so you respect his relationship with vernon and how much they love and care for each other.

then seungkwan smiles too, brushing it off, but it's clear in his eyes that he definitely thinks his brother is in good hands.

a/n: i have no idea where this came from but do with it what you will. ❤️🍒

[booksinmythorax]

This post has gotten big fast. Thank you to everyone who's been supportive so far!

I want to talk a little bit about why I said piracy isn't the solution to the problem I've put forth here.

Basically, like libraries, this post isn't just about the books. Yes, the information in the books that have been, are being, and will be targeted by the Trump administration and his cronies in state and local governments is vital and needs to be available to everyone. However, what I proposed in the original post (borrowing the books, not pirating them) was for two purposes: protecting access to the books for everyone, and defending the institution of the library in the USA.

In his book On Tyranny, historian Timothy Snyder lists 20 ways to resist authoritarian regimes in everyday life. His second directive (after "#1: Do not obey in advance") is "Defend institutions":

It is institutions that help us to preserve decency. They need our help as well. Do not speak of "our institutions" unless you make them yours by acting on their behalf. They fall one after the other unless each is defended from the beginning. So choose an institution you care about - a court, a newspaper, a law, a labor union - and take its side.

Many of America's institutions are broken. Either they were from the beginning (police, the military industrial complex) or they have become so through intentional neglect or sabotage, almost entirely by the political right (social safety nets, public education, healthcare, infrastructure).

That said, if you're in America and you're reading this, you almost certainly depend on dozens of institutions just to get through the day. Do you drive on roads or use public transportation? Do you eat commercially-produced and inspected food? Do you attend or send your children to public school or publicly-funded universities? I could ask a hundred more of these insipid hypothetical questions, but you get the idea. If you live in the US, especially if you're looking at this post on the internet, you are not outside the purview of US institutions.

Lots of people will need to "take the side" of lots of institutions to keep them from getting worse - or much worse - in Trump's second term. However, I work in libraries because they are the rare US institution that I can get behind with my full support.

The public library building is the last free place. Anyone, regardless of income, citizenship, or social status, can walk into a public library and spend hours in heat or air conditioning without being expected to pay a dime. They can read books, magazines, and newspapers, in many cases in multiple languages. In my experience, many US public libraries will let you use internet on their computers and/or with WiFi without needing to have a card. Some libraries, including the system where I work, leave the free, open Wi-Fi on all night so that people who need it can use it in the parking lot after hours. Many libraries don't require a card to attend in-person educational or entertainment programs for adults, teens, or kids.

If you have proof of your identity and your residency in a library's service area, you can take books home! For free! You can probably also take DVDs and Blu-Rays home! For free! You might also be able to take home digital media, music CDs, video games, laptop computers, tablets, wireless hotspots, sewing machines, telescopes, sports equipment, neckties, or other items! For free! They have been paid for by public funds, which might include your taxes (if you have an income that requires you to pay a tax bill to the government) or not (if you don't). Either way, those items are yours to borrow and use as long as you promise to bring them back for other people to enjoy.

And as long as local, state, and federal governments don't decide they don't want you to have those things anymore.

The US public library system isn't perfect. In the past, American public libraries have actively participated in segregation, and I wish the field acknowledged this lasting harm more. I wish more systems could go fine-free. I wish the field paid better (no one should have to have a Master's degree to make a living wage). I think there are too many restrictions on who can get a library card in a particular system. Some library systems' policies are actively hostile to people experiencing homelessness, addiction, or poverty. That said, these things are improving and they are solvable - unless we can't prove that people are using our services enough to justify our expenses to political entities.

It is so, so easy to take public libraries' side in the US. Literally just use us.

It's not just about the books.

I'm already seeing advice from people in the US to purchase queer books and other banned or "controversial" books on paper as a way to combat the wave of government censorship that is coming. While this is a good idea (it is! absolutely!), it's not accessible to everyone, and truly, we're not going to be able to consumerism our way out of this one.

If you can buy the books, do. Whether you can buy the books or not, borrow them from your library.

Borrow the paper versions. Borrow the ebook or audiobook versions. Request the titles you want that your library doesn't have. The more a title circulates or is requested, the better librarians are going to be able to defend keeping it if and when it's ever challenged.

Use libraries like @queerliblib too. The more members they have, the better they'll be able to fundraise.

Your community resources depend on you using them. Borrow the books before they go away.

InB4: Piracy is not the solution here. We're trying to keep community resources available, not make sure individual people can read individual books. Different problems.

The books are still available. Borrowing them from your library and returning them on time and in good condition will help keep them that way.

[venmondiese]

WEIRD HOBBIES

-ˋˏ| summary: you meet a guy in a bar and decide to go back to his place, as weird as he might seem.

✧ | Pairing: Martin (in the modern world) x reader

✧ | word count: 2.3k

✧ | Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Oral (f/m receiving), 69 position, Martin is weird as hell but a pussy eating champ! Not beta proof<3

“So… what’s your name again?” You ask curiously, walking behind the man that holds your hand, guiding you through his home, and to his bedroom. You don’t complain, though, since you were out just for that; to get home with a handsome man. 

There was this band that you never heard of playing near your house, and it took little for your brain to convince you to go. If something good came from it, you would get fucked. If something bad came from it, well… you hoped for the first one. 

That’s how you ended up here, following a dude, which looks from head to toe like a metal head. His hair goes to his shoulders, coal black, which you assume he dyed it, and some graphic shirt with the words ‘Knotfest’ and all, wearing some metal stuff that you didn’t really know much about.

And you looked like a rock groupie, with a leather top that practically squeezed your tits and a dark jeans miniskirt with some boots. Yet, this mysterious man was still taller than you, and that was quite exciting, and a bit arousing.

“Eh, Martin” he says nonchalantly, as he grabs your hand, his bracelets really end up the detail of his fit, and you feel really horny now to lay with this dude. “Yours?”

You tell Martin your name, following him as he opens his bedroom door. To be fair, it is tidier than you imagined.

“Sorry the mess” he murmurs, moving the drone and an electric guitar out of his bed. You hum, looking around curiously, to the badly positioned posters, some rock-metal bands that you didn’t know about.

“Is that a snake?” You ask, watching the little head of the reptile in the middle of the dim light coming from outside.

“Uh- no, it’s a lizard” 

A guy with a lizard as a pet. Okay.

“What is its name?” 

“Lizard. I don’t like naming them-” 

Great. 

You look at him with a fake smile. The dick better be good you think, taking out your jacket and leaving it on a chair next to the desk.

“Be careful, spider likes to crawl near there”

You took your jacket off there, and you really hoped that he had a dog called spider because otherwise it would be strange as hell.

“Riiiiight” you say, leaving your jacket in a hanger of his opened closet. Whatever. “So… Apart from having a lizard and a spider… do you maybe also have… a cockroach?”

He lets out a huff, his lips turning upwards as he takes his shirt off. “No” Martin says. “I do have another thing, though, it’s very big”

You try to smile at his corny, cringy words. It’s for the dick. You repeat to yourself: The dick better be good. He better not finish in two minutes. He better knows how to eat pussy.

“Ha. Funny” you say as you start to take off those boots.

“How did ya meet the band?”

“Ehmm… A friend dated the brother of an ex of the bassist. I think” you say watching as he frowns his eyebrows slightly trying to make any sense as he lights up a cigarette. 

“ah, nice” he says as he lays on bed as he smokes the cigarette, taking off his shirt as he remains only in those Adidas jeans of his. “Heard the songs before?”

“Once or twice” you say looking at the CD albums stacked on top of each other messily, and you move to grab a solitude piece of paper, as you can practically feel Martin’s eyes on your ass. “I liked the vocalist, quite handsome, don’t you think?” you unwrap softly the paper, away from Martin’s eyes.

It was an address. It piqued your curiosity.

“Aye, come here” his voice is soft as he extends his hand to turn off the cigarette on the glass ashtray, which has the shape of a dragon.

You turn around and walk toward his bed, and watch how he seems eager to have you. It’s hot to have a man drooling for you like Martin is now. And his erection is the living proof of it; it was obvious against his trousers that he was rock hard. You wondered if he was leaking as well. 

You straddle his lap, a smirk forming on your lips as his hands move immediately to your thighs, cold hands moving slowly up to find their way to your ass. 

“Sit on my face” Martin murmurs, words slightly stuck between his pants

“Hm? What was that?” You ask petulantly, pretending not to have heard. 

“Come on, beautiful, sit on my face” he says, pushing your hips closer to his chest, trying to push your miniskirt up.

“Gotta take my panties off” you say softly to him, watching his lips as he licks them, savouring the ghosting taste of you.

“No, like this” he murmurs, eager to taste you. “I’ll eat you from behind even.” Martin proposes, more desperate than the last time “Please”

You might forgive cheesy comments for his eagerness. You sigh with a wide smirk, turning around as Martin places his big hands around your thighs, dragging your centre closer to his face. 

Eager was the wrong word for it; he was desperate.

His hand moved your panties to the side, and his face almost nuzzled your cunt, before starting to press his tongue on your centre. You could hear his groan of pure delight, his hands caressing the skin of your thighs and ass as he delighted himself. 

“Fuck” you said, but it was as if all the air from your lungs when out in that moan. 

Martin’s hands were keeping you still, not allowing you to move your hips to grind his face as you wanted. You could hear his moans, the way he slurped and nuzzled his face on your cunt. 

He was a pro, eating pussy as if he did it every day (maybe he did, god knows), and he didn’t seem to care for his lack of air in the matter. He was on it, devoted to eating your dripping cunt as if it was his last meal on earth.

Your hands are pressed on his stomach, and he has to forcefully let you go to breathe, and you sigh as you feel his breaths. 

“Where did you learn to do that?” You breathe softly, as you can hear how he pants, catching his breath. 

“A good pussy can make a man go feral, love” he says, moving your panties out of the way as his index and middle finger move to rub against your slit. 

He was cheesy, and it was a bit weird. Yet it couldn’t bother you less, you had been with worse men, and Martin was good in other areas…, well, at least in sex and eating out a pussy. And it was more than average, so you were up to it.

Before he decides to keep on eating you, still caressing your clit as he catches his breath, you lean a bit on his torso, to try to pull down the leather pants, opening the zipper. 

It takes you a bit, yet after accomplishing your mission, your hand grabs his dick to guide it into your warm, eager mouth. 

He was well doted, and hard as a rock. He was leaking, and his tip was a bit pink compared with the rest of his cock. 

God damn you if it didn’t make your mouth drool. Between him eating you out, and his leaking cock, you think you will go insane. He could have cheeky, cringe comments but you could live with it. You couldn’t live without him eating you out or his cock. 

You are as enthusiastic with his cock as he is. Though, you start slower. You take the head on your mouth, sucking on it as you feel him groan against your pussy. It was fucking hot, and it had you moaning on his cock. You didn’t remember the last time your legs were trembling like this, and how much you wanted to feel a dick in your throat. It was a need, a primal need.

Martin was kind and nice, had his things, but god, you need to fuck him. You might even need to have his babies by now. You wouldn’t complain if he came all inside you, filling you with his cum, and making you pregnant. Fuck, it even turned you more on. What was this man doing to you?

You took more of his dick in your mouth, trying to take all of it, not minding if you choke on it. He was hot. More than hot, in truth.

Martin was relentless with his tongue, lapping at your cunt again and again, moaning loudly against it as he could feel how deep you were taking his cock in your mouth. Your hand moved to cup his balls, as your tongue tried to swirl around his tip. It drove him insane. 

It was not long before you started to cum, moaning loudly, his dick slipping from your mouth as your thighs pressed against his face, riding his face and nose as he was making you cum. His tongue was as greedy as him, and he worked with his nose along your slit. And it made you cum hard, rolling your eyes back. “Fuck, Martin, just like that…” You say, hips grinding against his mouth in a desperate need to stretch the feeling a bit more. 

And once you finish, your mouth goes back to his cock, to keep on sucking him off. “Fuck, you feel incredible” he rasped, as you moved forward, closer to his cock and have full access, as Martin’s hips pumped upwards to fuck your mouth. 

You lay on his chest, his face back on the pillow, moaning loudly as you seem to try to drain him completely, deepthroating him as if it was nothing at all.

“Fuck, you are going to make me cum” He says, teeth gripped as his hand moves to grab a fist of your hair, to move your head down to allow him fuck your mouth deep as he wanted. His own head titles back in pure bliss and pleasure, moaning loudly as he uses your mouth as a desperate animal in need to cum. Not that you complain, it costs a bit more to breathe, and you were almost choking, but hearing Martin be so local, groaning, moaning and grunting was worth it. 

His cum soon fills your mouth, and he keeps you still, the signal clear for you to swallow all of it, as his throbbing cock unleashed his hot cum. 

“Swallow it… fuck, swallow it all, take what I give you…” he mutters in pure bliss.

As the last drops of cum are licked off his cock, he leans back and you move to his side. 

“That was great” You mutter, looking at the ceiling. How could he be so great at it?

“Yeah. Cig break and round two?”

“Hell yeah”

You are with your friend when you search the location in the paper that you found in Martin’s room. You were supposed to go to the club, you were wearing your miniskirt and a top, really to party, but that man had eaten your pussy and fucked you like no one before, so you felt entitled to find what that was for.

“It’s cold” Your friend, Tamara, says. She was chewing gum as she followed you begrudgingly. 

“It’s a fucking parking lot?” You ask looking around the empty street, the night made it lonely yet not totally isolated. 

“Your darling buries the bodies here” Your friend says, obviously judging it all. “Can we go?”

“Look, there is a car” you point out, as the car seems to be jumping around due to the movements inside. “Gods, you think they are having sex?”

“Ew, you think he has a brothel in his car?” Tamara asks you, looking at the car as you both get closer. “Eww and you fucked without a condom… You could get an IST, and die”

“It is called an STD, and… I think he is not fucking anyone” you frown slightly, getting closer.

“Careful! What if his pimp is here…?”

“He is fighting someone!” You say looking inside the car, as you find Martin pressing the head of the other guy against the window. 

Surely, Martin was a weird dude. He was corny as hell, and he had pets called like the species they were. Sure. He almost burned his hair as he smoked after sex, yes; and he also ate pussy like a champ and was hung as a horse. 

“I am going there” You tell your friends. “The dick is worth it”

“Yikes” 

As you walk closer, you feel your friend either staying behind or walking away, not that you care. 

Martin had blood trailing down his forehead, and was lying in the passenger’s seat as his thighs choked the other guy he was with, holding his head still with his hands. Okay, whatever, a guy can have hobbies.

When he sees you, he starts rolling down the window of the car, as you lean closer to his height.

“Hey, darling- how did ya–”

“A girl has her secrets” you say, smiling as you see him. God, he was sexy as hell. “I want my pussy eaten” 

Martin smirks, and he leans back to sigh at your request, as if the idea delights him. He still applies pressure to the other dude, who seems to pass out. Martin leans forward closer to your lips and whispers “Will ya’ wait ten minutes as I finish with this round?”

“Three” You bargain.

“Seven.”

“Three”

“Five and I’ll make you cum twice.” His final offer, and the time you had in mind. Offering lower than one wants always seems work to get your official deal, even with an extra.

“Deal” you accept with a smirk. 

And what if he was fighting inside a car? You fancied Martin, and sure as hell he fancied you. Even if he has weird hobbies. 

[anpanman95]

now that I got he appreciation post out of the way I’ll yap about what I loved the most about this whole scene because was a fucking masterpiece.

1. He looks fucked out and I’m going insane. His heavy breathing was blasting through my headphones and, although that is something that usually annoys me during these scenes, it was done carefully and tastefully. It felt natural and real, not overplayed, not overkilled, but raw and perfectly genuine.

2. Anyone else devastated by the absolute adorableness of this moment? Just me? This was such a cute short thing that casts light into their relationship. They’re both actually very carefree people, always have been, even if Jack had a hard time coming back to his true self. This moment felt so intimate and relaxed. From trying to make the other submit, playfully and sensually, they both pause here and quickly take a breather to gauge each other and decide how is this going to happen before Jack takes the lead again. These are truly Jack and Joke.

3. Wall slamming. It’s one of the cliches I absolutely devour. Ever since episode 1 I knew they would be the kind to do this. I knew their NC would be like this. They want each other too much, they’re gonna take and take and take.

4. No awkward stripping. Just desperate. The moment characters strip have always felt so unnatural for me. This was done hastily and they stumble and it doesn’t look pretty because it shouldn’t. They have wanted each other for too long for them to wait another second in getting themselves naked. Joke is so desperate he struggles with taking Jack’s shirt off and he doesn’t care nor slows down. It adds on the realness of it all.

5. More wall slamming. Dear god I’m unwell. No further words.

6. He was stupid hot for this. They are possessed. As they should be. There’s tenderness and roughness at the same time in their movements and touches, casting light on the fact they love each other but are desperately hungry for each other’s body. They never let you forget that, not once.

7. Did you hear my screams? I was not expecting that. What I’ve seen happen many times on BL NC scenes, is that there is a high contrast done in between the couple when it comes to portraying desire. Usually it’s only one of them that is more vocal or physical about it, while the other takes it and follows. Yin and War have mentioned they don’t want their characters to stick to one dynamic, and it shows a lot in this whole scene. They both are perfectly capable of taking the lead, they both want to take the lead, they both want to submit. They are equals. And that’s always gonna be that way.

The power play, the switching, the rolling in the sheets, the CONSENT, the loving looks, the gentle touches, the rough touches, the pauses, the desperation, the desire.

they did it all. not one single thing missing.

they deserve nothing less than a standing ovation.

yinwar, you did it again

[buckdiazlafd]

im always thinking about buck diaz. i just think as much as buck would love hearing it, eddie would love saying it. he would call buck ‘Diaz’ all the time. like they’re playfully teasing each other back and forth and buck loves this game bc he knows exactly what to say to push eddie over that edge. and get to the part where eddie playfully pushes him, or wrestles him or even better pins him down 😍 and eddie knows they’re reaching this point too (soul bond) so buck says whatever he knows will get them to that line and eddie, with a sly smile and glint in his eye says ‘careful diaz’ and they both just get such a thrill out of it. and this is just a random wednesday evening in eddies living room. we haven’t even gotten to softly kissed “i love u buck diaz” kissed onto bucks cheeks, or relieved near tears after one of Bucks close calls, whispered into bucks neck as they hug “never scare me like that again diaz”. they make me insane

[weaselle]

Early human match ups with animals

Wolves: have a very similar social structure and lifestyle as early humans, benefit greatly from group dynamics -- teaming up with humans allows them greater access to food at less risk, safer sleeping, higher pup survival rate, better protection from the environment. One wolf eats about as much food as one person, so it's a normal member to add to the group in terms of resources.

Cats: have some amount of social overlap (cat sisters often help raise each other's kittens, and grouping approaches common in some cat species, notably in lions, but also for example in cheetahs, where brother cheetahs often stay together for life in groups of up to 4). Humans are HUGE prey attractors for them, drawing in rodents in large numbers - also meaning people don't have to give up their own food to feed them. Human housing is safer from the elements, keeps competitors and dangers like snakes and larger cat species away. Associating with humans gains special grooming and healing unavailable to wild species, such as draining and cleaning abscesses caused by infected bug bites or, very importantly, feeding and caring through a major illness or injury. A wild cat with a broken leg will often die, a human's cat with a broken leg will live to hunt again.

Goats (which we actually turned into Sheep): Herd structure similar enough to human social structure as to be compatible. Guaranteed food during winter and other times of scarcity -- and none of it is human food. Higher offspring survival rate, robust protection from predators and the elements. Horses : same. Cows: same. Deer/caribou: same but a little less so, actually surprisingly good at both fight and flight (cows, specialize in fight, horses specialize in flight) often travel more distance for resources so have better access during lean times; can match but less beneficial to the deer.

Other animals be like

Big cats like Tigers: Why the fuck are there so many of you in one place. This cold doesn't bother me at all because i'm so big my core stays warm. Just what do you think i need protection from? I'm super capable of feeding myself, and even if food is scarce? you have to sacrifice enough food to feed several people to keep me fed, which is a bummer for your group if food is scarce, and i cannot eat your stored food like dried fruits and grains. Your lifestyle is incompatible with mine, i hate everything about being forced to live with you and also it doesn't benefit me at all. Lions: yeah, plus I already have all the group dynamic benefits you could offer me, you're actually the weakest link in my group, be careful or we might outnumber you, being near us all the time greatly increases the number of times murderous male lions attack this group

Bears: Listen. Even if i get injured i'll just eat something that doesn't run from me until i heal (some brown bear populations spend a couple months a year mainly eating moth colonies, they will eat anything, including moss and fungus). This makes me a direct competitor for ALL you food, btw. Speaking of which it takes like 15 people's worth of food to keep me fed. If i get angry someone is definitely going to die. Protection? from what? The most dangerous thing to a bear is another bear, so also you can't really have more than a couple of me in any group, and staying near me greatly increases the chance of some territorial wild bear rolling up to camp with murder on their mind. What do you meeeean keep wandering around actively instead of sleeping in one spot for months at a time? My life is literally worse with you than without you, and your life is probably worse with me around too.

Weasels: Fuck off you can't keep up with me i eat half my body weight in food every day and bite everything near me. Try to contain me and see what happens i'm made out of teeth and murder and cleverness, and destruction of property and theft are my favorite games and i'm basically always bored unless i'm hunting or fighting or fucking with something. What do you meeeean hold still for 30 seconds now i'm mad and you'll basically have to kill me to stop me from going after whatever i want forever. I will absolutely try to murder every other animal you associate with no matter what size it is, and i will totally also eat all of your other food too because i love fruits and fungus and anything else you like to eat probably - you can't keep me out of your food stores and what i don't eat in the moment i'll steal and hide in my own stash for later. Excuse me now i have to sleep for 18 hours i do not understand why you want to keep doing things for so much of the day.

Don't ask me about ferrets they must have been bought with rodent hunting opportunities like the cats, total fluke if you ask me (ferrets are, in fact, domesticated, after more than two thousand years of human intervention. And it's kind of weird that it happened but i think they were the exact right size to make it work)

I think it's a common misconception that domesticating animals is somewhat like enslaving them. It really is more of a symbiotic relationship. No wild animal would have willingly put up with early humans if they didn't get something out of it. Wolves wouldn't have stayed with us and become dogs if they weren't getting food and safety out of it. Many large herbivores that are now domesticated could and would have easily trampled their early human captors or broken their enclosures open if they didn't have a reason to stay. Sometimes individual animals still do if we don't give them what they need.

The animals that have stayed with us for thousands of years have evolved to cooperate with us better. Dogs have additional facial muscles around their eyes that wolves lack in order to mimic human facial expressions. Sheep grow their wool perpetually while their wild counterparts don't because a bigger fleece means they're more likely to be allowed to breed and be kept around. Domestic dairy cows produce much more milk than wild bovine species and domestic hens lay more eggs. Do you know how energy costly producing eggs or milk is for an animal? It's pretty intense! They wouldn't be able to do that if we hadn't given them the food and safety from predators and the elements to.

And we really need to show these animals respect and gratitude for what they give us by taking excellent care of them. They gave up a lot to be with us, often including the means to take care of themselves in the wild. That's a huge reason why I'm not against using animal products, but I hate factory farming. They are still living, breathing creatures with needs and feelings. They deserve a comfortable life and, when the time comes, a humane death.

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 8

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum. Descriptions of sex (not graphic)

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 3.9k

Note : Loved the new Thunderbolts trailer. I am so excited to see Buck and Yelena interact in MCU canon! I will also be posting a thunderbolts! Bucky one shot soon so keep your eyes peeled! Also I know I uploaded yesterday but I have this locked and loaded and ready to go so this chapter’s early! 🫶

Series Masterlist

"Cursed By the Crown"

Friday.

You had already left the compound, exhausted from the day’s session. Bucky had stayed behind, as he often did, cleaning up the equipment and keeping to himself.

Yelena leaned on the doorway, watching him for a moment.

“Up for a spar?” Her tone was light, though her eyes had a stormy darkness to them.

Bucky exhaled, not even looking up. “It’s late.”

“Oh, come on.” She sauntered in, shrugging off her jacket and rolling her shoulders, settling into a loose stance. “Scared, Barnes?”

He shook his head, though his eyes never met hers. “Fine,” he said, almost to himself, moving into a ready position.

Bucky tightened his fists, his knuckles cracking under the pressure.

They began circling each other, slowly, like predators circling prey.

Yelena struck first, swift and precise. 

He blocked it, barely, the impact reverberating up his arm.

Yelena was relentless today. She pivoted, her leg sweeping out in a low arc, forcing him to jump back. She didn’t give him time to reset; she was on him again, fists flying in a controlled, practiced fury.

“You know, before she lost her memory,” Yelena’s voice emerged between punches, “she always thought you hated her.”

Bucky’s eyes widened.

She capitalized on it, her fist slamming into his ribs. He gasped, the pain sharp and immediate.

He forced himself to push back, retaliating with a swift punch aimed at her shoulder. 

She staggered back. 

“Now’s not the time,” he growled.

She threw another punch, this one grazing his jaw, just over the bruise you had given him when you punched him in your sleep. 

Yelena ignored his warning.

“You pushed her away. You were cold. Distant,” she said, words punctuated by each blow she landed, as if each strike was meant to drive home her accusation. 

Bucky could feel his temper rising, a familiar rage simmering beneath his touch skin.

Bucky caught her wrist with his metal arm mid-punch and twisting it, but careful not to break it. He shoved her back, but only for her to use the momentum to spring up again, her heel catching him across the jaw in a brutal arc. 

He could taste the metallic tang of blood from his lip, but he didn’t back down.

“Stop it,” he snapped. But she ignored him, her strikes coming harder. Faster.

“But you were always so protective of her,” she continued as she threw another punch, this one catching his shoulder. “Even when you pretended not to care, you watched over her. You noticed everything— the way she liked her coffee. Her favourite colour, the way she played with the ends of her hair when she was nervous.” She landed another blow, a quick jab to his gut that left him gasping. “Everyone noticed how much you cared. Everyone but her. But you pushed her away.”

Bucky swallowed, barely managing to hold back the waves of emotion threatening to break the surface. 

This time, he punched harder, knowing Yelena wasn’t going to hold back. 

He brought his knees up to her head. He didn’t put enough force to give her a concussion, but enough to draw blood from her forehead. 

Yelena blocked a hit from his human arm.

“Don’t tell her,” he said abruptly, his voice harsher than he intended.

“Why not?” She gripped his forearm.

He broke free, striking a punch that she couldn’t dodge, throwing her off balance. 

“I don’t want her to think of me like that,” Bucky replied.

Yelena’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“She’s not going to remember it on her own, Barnes.” Her knee shot up, catching him in the side. He staggered back, pain flaring through his ribs. “You’re the only one who can tell her how you were before and why.”

He blocked her next punch, gripping her arm tightly. He shoved her back.

Yelena stumbled, but she recovered quickly.

“What good is it going to do?” he bit out in frustration.

“If you don’t tell her, you’re going to carry that guilt forever,” she hissed. She aimed a punch at his jaw, but he ducked, countering with a brutal blow to her side. She gasped, wincing in pain. “N-not everybody—“ she spat a bit of blood on the mat— “It’s not everyday you get a second chance like this.”

“Second chances?” he echoed, throwing a punch that she narrowly avoided. “You want to talk to me about second chances, Belova?”

He watched as her usually flawless stance faltered.

“Sam told me,” he continued, his words venomous. “That you were too scared to see her. That you locked yourself up and whined and cried or whatever you did— when she was dying.”

Yelena’s face paled, her fists curling at her sides. Bucky saw the hurt behind her eyes, and maybe even a familiar guilt that followed him, too.

Yelena’s expression faltered. She opened her mouth to protest, but Bucky cut her off, putting another jab at the sides.

“At least I was there,” he said, his voice a mixture of frustration and pain as he dodged a side kick. “I sat by her bedside. I watched watched her fight just to breathe. I couldn’t— wouldn’t want her to be alone when she woke up. You think it was easy, watching her hooked up to all those machines just to stay alive?”

The words hit their mark; Yelena flinched as Bucky caught her in a headlock. Lucky for her, she knew how to outsmart a stronger opponent. She reached over in a desperate attempt to jab a finger close to his eyes as she could without blinding him.

When she broke free of his grip, she landed a vicious punch to his ribs, hard enough to make him double over.

“You think I didn’t want to be there?” she shouted, her voice cracked. She struck again, her fist connecting with his jaw, splitting the skin just below his cheekbone. Blood trickled down his face, mingling with the salty sting of sweat. “I couldn’t— I couldn’t lose another sister.”

“Excuses,” Bucky stumbled before catching himself. “I might have been cold. I might have kept my distance. But when she ran out of the compound, I tracked her. I offered her a place to stay. I was there when it mattered.”

“It’s doesn’t matter if I hurt her now,” Yelena’s voice rose now, almost a scream. “I am nothing. A friend, at most. I’m no longer a sister to her because she doesn’t fucking remember!” She took a breath, shoving Bucky down to the mat. “But you? You should hear the way she talks about you, Bucky. It’s like you hung the stars for her.”

He got up and turned away, chest heaving. 

He was done. 

Done with Yelena’s accusations. Her demands. Her criticism.

Mostly because he knew she was right.

Before he could storm out, she grabbed his arm, forcing him to face her again, her eyes ablaze with a mixture of hurt and desperation.

“If she finds out that I wasn’t there, it wouldn’t fucking matter,” she spat, her voice trembling in her Russian accent, dripping thicker now that she was shaking. “But if she finds out about you? It would break her. Because right now, you mean more to her than I ever did. Or ever could.”

Bucky’s breath caught, the words hitting harder than any punch she’d thrown. 

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Yelena’s grip tightened.

“No, you don’t get it,” she snapped, “She deserves to know who she’s falling in love with. All of you. Not just the parts you think are good enough for her.”

She’s falling in love with me? 

His fists loosened, his shoulders slumped. He looked at her swollen lip, her cut forehead, and realised what he’d done.

Yelena took a shaky breath, stepping back, but her gaze didn’t waver. “Just… think about it,” she pleaded.

She turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, alone. 

Bucky watched her, his face smeared with blood.

His blank stare flooded his mind back with memories—the moments where he had pushed you away, where he had convinced himself he wasn’t good enough for you, that you deserved someone better.

But now, he had a clean slate. He could be the person he always wanted to be for you. 

Maybe Yelena was right. Maybe he should tell you. But for now, he kept it to himself, wondering if he was making a mistake.

—

The door creaked open in your apartment.

Bucky tried to slip in quietly, but the minute you heard his footsteps, you emerged from the kitchen. You saw him standing near the small lamp, bruised and bloodied.

Your heart leapt into your throat, rushing over immediately.

“Bucky!” you gasped. You saw his split lip, the bruising above his cheekbone, the cuy along his jawline. He stood there, looking like he wanted the walls to swallow him whole.

You reached for him, guiding him toward the couch.

“What happened?” you asked, hands fluttering over his injuries as if you could somehow will them to disappear. The fear in your voice made him drop his gaze, his jaw clenching before he answered.

“Yelena,” he said, dismissively quick. “We were just sparring.” He tried to brush it off, but you knew Bucky’s little tells now— the way his eyebrows knitted when he had a lot on his mind. 

You eyed the bruises and the dried blood on his knuckles. “Just sparring?” you frowned. “You shouldn’t be training this… violently.”

He huffed, a weak smile tugging at his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. He started to say something, maybe to brush it off again, but the concern on your face made him go quiet.

You grabbed the first-aid kit Bruce had left— since he had been showing you teaching you basics over the last few days— you know, how to tend to a bullet wound. How to dislodge an arrow safely. 

He watched you open the box. His breath hitched as you rifled through it, muttering under your breath about “reckless idiots” and “grown ass spies who should know better.” Every so often, you glanced up, checking him with worried eyes.

He realized then just how much you truly cared. Just how deeply your concern ran. 

She looks at you like you hung the stars for her, Yelena had said. 

For the first time in a long time, he let himself be cared for—really cared for, not as a soldier, not as a mission.

“Maybe… I’ll have to talk to her about going easy on you,” you murmured with a small, gentle smile.

Never, he thought to himself, Yelena will never go easy on me. Not if I don’t tell you.

You pulled out antiseptic wipes and gauze, pulling him down on the cushions, letting him place his duffel bag on the floor. 

You kneeled down in front of him, taking his face in your hands with a tenderness that made his heart skip a beat. He felt the gentle kindness in your touch, the careful way you pressed against each wound.

“Hold still,” you whispered. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes. It was so unexpected that it sent your heart racing a thousand miles an hour.

Your fingers brushed the cut on his jaw, sending a dull ache through his skin, though he didn’t flinch. He just watched you, eyes tracing every line of your face. He studied the determination in your eyes, the way your lips parted in focus as you pressed the fabric against his swollen lip.

He felt his pulse race, fighting back the urge to reach for you.

You were so close, so painfully close.

You were so kind, partly because you didn’t know— didn’t know how he treated you then.

But now, you were looking at him with that delicate stare, with a warmth that felt like forgiveness for sins you didn’t even remember… it was too much. 

And fuck, he was so deeply, desperately in love with you. Every careful touch of your hands, every time your eyes met his— it made his chest ache.

He knew he had to have you now. Before Yelena could take you away from him.

Before Yelena could ruin this.

The words escaped him, hoarse, almost a whisper. 

“Kiss me.”

Your hands froze, your eyes widened. 

The words echoed in your mind. Time felt like it had slowed to a stop, your thoughts scrambled.

You had wanted this—wanted him—for so long, but had always held back. You did not want to cross that line.

But now… now, he was asking you to, almost pleading.

He swallowed, suddenly fearing he’d overstepped. 

But before he could apologize or take the words back, you leaned in, crashing your lips on to his, mindful of the bruise he had.

He was hesitant at first, waiting for you to pull back, to change your mind. When you didn’t, when you wrapped your arms around his neck, his restraint shattered.

His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer.

Your lips deepened into his, turning desperate, urgent, and he drank every part of you in. His metal hand roamed up your back, pressing against you as though he were trying to memorize every curve, every inch of you. 

Your fingers slid into his hair, and he groaned low in his throat. He sounded rough, needy. His hands found your waist, pulling you on his lap. You straddled him, inching closer. He felt your heartbeat against his chest, wild and frantic, just like his.

You grew hungrier, his mouth moving against yours with a fierce, aching desperation that left him dizzy. He found himself lost in you, his hands gripping you tighter, scared that you would slip away.

“I don’t know if I loved you then,” You broke away just long enough to gasp, “but I love you now.”

Bucky’s breath hitched as he pressed his forehead against yours. 

Yours. He thought. I am yours now. No matter what Yelena says.

“I love you too,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a ragged whisper.

For a moment, nothing else existed but the two of you, the world slipping away as he kissed again.

It was rougher this time, his hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his human fingers. You arched into his touch, gasping, and he kissed the hollow of your throat, breathing in the scent of you, feeling the way you clung to him.

And then, through the haze, a thought crept in, sharp and unwelcome, cutting through the bliss.

She deserves to know who she’s falling in love with, Yelena had said.

His hands stilled, the words rattling in his mind. He couldn’t ignore the truth—he was selfishly keeping you in the dark, shielding you from his mistakes, his regrets. 

He knew, deep down, that Yelena was right. 

But as you looked at him, eyes half-lidded and love drunk, fingers tracing his jaw lovingly, he couldn’t bring himself to shatter the moment. 

He cupped your face, brushing his thumb along your cheek, pulling you back into another kiss. It was soft this time, as if you were fragile. He thought could bury the guilt in the taste of you, and it did, if only for a while.

For now, he would keep this to himself, whatever the cost. He would let himself have this piece of you, even if it meant carrying the weight of the past alone.

Because, holding you like this, witnessing your love, he knew he’d sacrifice anything to keep you in his arms. 

Monday. 

The morning dawned in soft, golden light spilling through your curtains, and the warmth of it brought a gentle wakefulness that was better than any alarm. 

You were still tucked in Bucky’s arms. Even in sleep, he had held you close.

You stayed there for a few moments, enjoying the quiet before the day began, feeling his heartbeat strong and steady under your cheek.

You gently stirred, and Bucky’s arm tightened slightly.

His eyes slowly fluttered open to meet yours. Still hazy with sleep and a little unfocused, a small, sleepy smile pulled at his lips. 

For a while, he just looked at you. He had a tender quiet, tender awe in his expression that made your heart skip. His hand brushed lightly through your hair, his thumb tracing soft, absent-minded patterns against your shoulder as if he were memorizing the feel of you there beside him.

"Good morning," he murmured, his voice still thick and warm from sleep.

You smiled. "Good morning."

"I hope last night was… okay." There was a slight pink to his cheeks, as if he hadn’t quite processed what happened.

Last night had begun slowly. 

It had started with soft, teasing kisses, and grew heated, electric. His hands began to explore, gliding down your back. The need was there—gentle yet unmistakable. 

Each touch had been a gentle question, asking if you wanted him to keep going, and each time, your answer had come in the way you tugged him closer, the way your hands wandered over his skin, over his metal arm as if it was flesh and bone.

As you moved to the bed, his lips found their way down your neck. He had pressed slow, tender kisses that left you trembling, soft gasps escaping your mouth. His hands had traveled down your sides. He had to let you feel how long he had wanted this for, yet never rushing.

The two of you had found a rhythm that felt like it was only yours and yours alone. You had laid there with him, moving together in a seamless, gentle flow. His gaze hadn’t left yours, even as his breaths grew heavier and his grip tightened. He had needed you to know how much he wanted you.

Your fingers had threaded through his hair, his name a soft whisper on your lips as you both grasped for each other’s high.

After cleaning and washing up, you had laid in your his and drifted off to sleep. The concrete had fallen on you in your dreams again, but this time you had been calm. This time, you had known it was going to pass. 

“It was more than okay,” you whispered, leaning closer, feeling his fingers tighten around you in response. 

Shyly, you gave a chaste kiss on his lips.

He returned it with a gentle smile.

Eventually, you both made your way to the kitchen, the usual morning routine feeling new and intimate now. 

He brewed coffee while you prepped breakfast, and though you both moved around in comfortable silence.

Every time you reached for something on the counter, his hand would brush against yours, and every time, he’d give you a playful grin.

After breakfast, he grabbed his jacket and raised an eyebrow. “Want to take a walk?”

The air outside was fresh with the early morning scent of dew on grass. The two of you walked side by side, his fingers brushing against yours with a sweet, hesitant touch, as if he were testing the waters. Finally, he slipped his hand into yours. 

You felt your cheeks warming, but you laced your fingers together without hesitation. 

Wednesday.

You woke up in Bucky’s arms again, and that night, the nightmares didn’t even come for you.

You did your morning routine, opting for a walk a little closer to lunch.

He pulled you into a tiny bookstore nestled into the corner of a quiet street, the cozy little shop bathed in soft, amber light and filled with the scent of dusty old pages. You wandered through the aisles, hands still entwined, occasionally stopping to point out interesting titles or laugh at the oddball covers on some of the paperbacks. 

He picked out a book that you loved, holding it out with an encouraging smile. “This one’s supposed to be great,” he said, the excitement in his voice contagious.

“Oh, really?” you replied, grinning as you took the book and added it to your stack. 

The walk back to your place was even better, both of you lost in soft laughter as he pointed out small things around the neighborhood you’d only noticed noticed now—a tiny coffee shop you’d walked by countless times, a mural tucked behind an old theater.

Back at your apartment, you settled on the couch, sipping water as you thumbed through the pages of your new book. Bucky leaned back beside you, stretching an arm around your shoulders, and you leaned into him without a second thought. 

His fingers traced gentle patterns on your shoulder as you read, and it took everything in you to keep your focus on the words in front of you, though you found yourself glancing over at him every few minutes, catching him watching you with that soft, steady gaze.

“Something on your mind?” you teased, nudging him slightly.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice soft, sincere. “Just… you.” His words were so earnest that you felt yourself melt, unable to keep from smiling as you leaned in closer, your head resting on his shoulder.

The evening drifted in, you’d both fallen into a comfortable routine of watching a movie after dinner, and tonight was no different. As the movie started, Bucky wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close against him.

Halfway through, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. You looked up as he brushed a strand of hair from your face before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally, your lips. It was a sweet, lingering kiss, slow and filled with an unspoken promise that made your heart ache in the best way.

You settled back against him, resting your head on his chest.

“I could get used to this,” he murmured.

“Me too,” you whispered.

Sunday.

Some nights, in the last couple of days, Bucky would find himself wide awake, sitting in silence on the edge of the bed, watching you sleep. The room was steeped in darkness, but there was just enough moonlight to illuminate the soft rise and fall of your chest.

The sight of you in gentle slumber, after all those weeks of struggling with the nightmares, should have reassured him, should have brought him comfort. But instead, it made his heart ache with a strange longing. 

Regret.

He sat there, hunched forward. Often, his hands clasped tightly together. His mind would wander, as it usually did in these quiet hours.

It drifted to the way he’d been with you before. Cold. Guarded. Pushing you away, convincing himself that he was doing the right thing by keeping his distance. 

He’d been so convinced you’d be better off without him, that he was doing you a favor by holding back, by shutting you out whenever you got too close.

But now… now you were giving him a second chance without even knowing it.

He wondered, night after night, if he was good enough for you now.

He couldn’t quite shake the fear that he was still falling short. That, one day, you’d remember everything, and this fragile happiness he’d found would shatter.

Part of him wanted to tell you, to open up, to confess everything about the person he’d been. The part of him that wanted you to know the truth, even if it hurt, even if it meant risking what he had with you now. But every time he got close to imagining what that conversation might look like, he’d stop himself. He would imagine your face filled with hurt, with betrayal.

Could he be the person you thought he was without telling you the truth about who he’d been?

-to be continued...

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[cassiecainwaynes]

Although I just started reblogging Arcane stuff now, I’ve been into the show since 2021. So to put it on the record: I’ve always loved Jayce.

He’s always had pure intentions, but can be naive, single-minded, and selfish, which (as we’ve seen) can really hurt the ones he loves. He didn’t ask to be the Man of Progress, and that clouded a lot of his judgment. And just as he realizes, in this moment, his real wants and needs (being faced with the reality of his best friend dying in his arms), he panics, desperately trying to revive him– but Viktor is no longer able to reciprocate that love, those wants. He’s saying that this– the end of their life together– was inevitable. And Jayce can’t even explain himself correctly, he’s sleep-deprived, a little manic, so relieved, confused, and overwhelmed.

He’s trying to keep it together, in the spotlight, a well-meaning man– and I’ve always loved him.

[callilypso]

II ▷ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 — " cold hands, warm hearts "

part 1 of the 𝐥&𝐝𝐬 + 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 [other parts: xavier, rafayel, sylus]

— exploring Zayne as a father, both of Your children’s relationships with You and their Dad, as well as delving into their passions and personalities

note: each LI has different MCs, meaning each child/ren of the other LIs have different mothers and aren't related

ᴛᴀɢꜱ: fluff, fluff, and flufffff, some crack, and some teeny bit of angst (if you squint); the kids are ocs

❥ a/n: i have many, many plans for all of these babies >:) there's nothing too serious yet i promise. feel free to add more of your own ideas i would looove to know them i will srsly cry in joy. pls be nice tho c:

0:02 ───|────────────────────────

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 has two children: an eldest son and his youngest, a daughter. He is The Dad™ amongst all dads, and I know most would agree. He's a very hands-on father, and definitely the stricter one between the two of you especially when it comes to their health. Unfortunately, his babies took after some of their mother's uh.. concerning habits, but nonetheless, he will never get tired of taking care of his family. As much as they can be a source of stress for his poor heart, his joy will always be from them too.

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐘 — “Cae”, ”Ace”

his eldest, name based from Caleb in his honor (assuming he is truly dead at this time), and Zayne thought it was perfect

he is a literal Carbon Copy of Zayne, except his eyes shaped and color like his mother's

as a baby, he rarely cried and whined, almost picture perfect, however.. it was an absolute pain when they were trying to start feeding him solids

grew up to be a picky eater even well into his adulthood, very particular about textures and smells. he absolutely hates ketchup and anything with tomato sauce, dislikes sour-sweet things and any seafood

You had an idea to try giving him a teensy bit of chocolate at age 2, and he hated it—the sticky texture was off putting

it had Zayne doubting for a moment if Casey was truly his offspring as if he wasn't there to witness the delivery, your hand crushing his in a grip he wasn't sure was physically possible without breaking each other's hands.

Zayne learned to adjust to his needs though, trying to accommodate both his preferences as well as still giving him the proper nutrition. MC at least taught him to try anything just at least once

his role model was truly his Dad, adopting his gentleman mannerisms and kindness for others

would often be brought to work with Zayne after school, behaving well in his office as he browses through some of his Dad's medical books, and would ask him questions to clarify

a lot of questions, sometimes Zayne gets a little too distracted but he will never blame the sweet boy

little darling of the Akso hospital, always greeted by the nurses and doctors of the facilities as he passes by trying to snoop around

he looooves the nurses’ desk, listening intently at all the different stories about their daily life as health workers, from sad to crazy to funny 

would often be given chocolate much to his dismay.. it all ends up going to Zayne and his sister in the end

a smart, reliable, kind, and generous boy, eager to help others in need inspired by both his parents and his healthcare workers environment

from helping his struggling classmates to understand the lessons better, to assisting the elderly cross a busy street

can be a little bit of a people pleaser… just a tiny bit (a lot)

Zayne and MC has never given or voiced expectations on what standards he should be, unfortunately, it doesn't stop outsiders from doing so

growing up, he's felt the weight with each whisper—he is the son of The Dr. Zayne, best cardiologist of his generation in the whole country

it's genuinely one of his inspirations to strive for the best, although in his teens it kind of grows into a toxic perfectionism and competitive comparisons

that's right, he's the burnt out overachiever, a constant at the Dean's List, hence why his peers started to call him “Ace”

disciplined and responsible, although can be prone to anxiety

as a brother, he's protective of his little sister too, sometimes he even outdoes both You and Zayne in strictness.

he likes to think he's a lot more restrained but he's actually very readable.. the boy cannot lie to save his life

a natural approachable charismatic leader

since he was a child, he was Zayne’s own personal 'physician' after work, giving his Dad a full ‘check up’ because he knows being a doctor is hard, but truthfully Zayne’s stress melts away the moment he's greeted by his beaming grin as he runs into his arms, his son's baby shampoo and fresh laundry scent calming his senses instantly

he treats him with shoulder rubs, hand massages, forehead massages, even learning to brew Zayne’s prefered coffee blend, and ah yes with his daily dose of much needed sweets

his relationship with you.. let's just say you get double the doctor now, aka you're very well taken care of and yes, you're also getting treated with the same little services he does for his Dad

although as he grew older, he started being more concerned at the amount of sweets his Dad takes 

If Zayne's constantly pestering you about your health, now he's getting a taste of his own medicine by a mini version of him hiding his stashes of sweets little by little

“Son, we don't have a history of diabetes in our heredity.” Zayne argues, as Casey hugs his stash of chocolates he swore he's hidden in his locked drawer.

“But that doesn't mean you can't.. A small chance is still a chance. ” Cae retorts back as he pinches his nose bridge, and Zayne swears he's looking at a mirror right now.

“How do you even..” Zayne sighs, feeling both proud and defeated because his 8 year old little genius son is actually right. “Cae, I haven't even gotten any sweets this entire day.”

“You had cake, ice cream, and chocolates yesterday—and a smoothie!”

Zayne sighs again, heavier. Unfortunately, that was also true, and it shouldn't have been something he knew about unless..

"Did your mom put you up to this?" Zayne asks. Casey shifts on his feet, averting his gaze, clearly uncomfortable being eyed by his father at the moment. A smile quirks on Zayne's lips.

"No.." Casey answers after a beat of silence, clearly a lie, and Zayne wants to pinch his puffed cheeks. He looked more like you at that moment, absolutely adorable. Something was squeezing Zayne's chest right now.

"Hm.. Well, do I at least get another alternative?" Zayne tries to bargain.

"Um.. I don't know..?" Casey answers honestly.

Zayne settles down his swivel chair, arms beckoning him to come closer, and Casey does. He gets pulled on his father's left thigh, eyes confused at Zayne snickering at him.

"Since you lied—" Cae tenses in his hold, "—I'm just gonna chew you instead."

"Wha—No!" Casey begins to helplessly wiggle out of Zayne's secure grip, but his cheek was already being bitten by his dad. No real teeth, as Zayne tucked his lips inward to cover them.

The office was filled with childish giggling as Zayne continues to relieves his stress through cuteness aggression, play biting and tickling him to near tears.

𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄 — “Lili” , “Lianne”

youngest daughter with a 4 year age gap from Casey, and to say the least: a Danger Magnet

single handed increased Zayne's gray hairs and high blood pressure tendencies before age 40 

the baby proofing of the house gets doubled

truly a spitting image of You, except with her father's verdant green and hazel golden eyes

even more unfortunate for Zayne, she's got your prankster habits

she's double jointed, making her extremely flexible.. and also prone to dislocations.

she does a backflip in front of Zayne and he nearly dies of a heart attack because he thought she would crack her head open

at age 3, put lotion on Zayne's coffee. no one knows the reason why, except now you hide all your skincare somewhere else and Zayne now knows what SPF tastes like

at age 4, attempted to wrestle with a wild goose at the park, towering over her small frame.. her battle scars are still evident well into her teens

at age 5, managed to get a hold of some alcohol thinking it was juice… yeh You and Zayne can never ever rest

but despite all that, Zayne, You, and Casey are extremely supportive of her passion as a figure skater

saw Yuzuru Hanyu once live and it stuck to her ever since, begging and crying Zayne and You to allow her to train

growing up, she's The Yapper of the family—doesn’t matter if you listen to her or not, she will talk. sometimes it's like Zayne's personal white noise ASMR to lull him to sleep.

and contrary to all that's happened in her childhood, she does value her family's trust in her, especially Zayne's

and is actually very responsible, never does alcohol (she remembers the taste ever since.. it was not nice), hates the smell of smoke/vape, never goes beyond the curfew, and actually takes good care of her health and wellness more consistently than Casey ironically

competitive at heart, also a perfectionist.. maybe a little more than Cae. 

‘second place is the first loser’ mentality 

at age of 19, she's an internationally competitive and well renowned skater

her relationship with her Dad has its ups and downs, but she's never taken their misunderstandings into grudges, as communication is very important to her to establish trust

if her brother is acts of service in showing love, she's definitely quality of time

she's very outgoing, preferring to spend time together doing activities, from simple night walks in the park, coffee hang outs, to wall climbing and hiking

literally gets bored out her mind staying at home for more than half a day

a major travel girlie, with a vast collection of photos and vlogs—and you bet Zayne has them all watched and saved (and its also her way of documentation that, yes, she's in fact safe and sound)

the family will always try to attend every major competition Lianne has no matter how busy they get, securing tickets and lodgings months in advance if it's overseas

Zayne's chest swells with pride, watching her glide gracefully on ice, burning passion in her eyes. You squeeze his hand and hold your breath every single time she's about to attempt a triple axle, and he too would squeeze back. immediately, you would squeal in delight at her successful landings, cheering loudly and borderline embarrassing.

“THAT'S MY GIRL!!” 

both of you have witnessed the blood, sweat, and tears she's poured in every practice, being there for her as much you can every step of the way

definitely shares the same sweet tooth as Zayne, so they're sneaking each other sweets behind You and Cae’s back.

often jokes that she's Zayne's true child because of it and Cae just rolls his eyes at her every time. "Nothing screams father-daughter more than matching cavities I guess."

Zayne and Lianne have their favorite spots for their sweet tooth adventures, most notably their whole family’s favorite: Destiny's Cafe

Walking down Linkon City’s city lights, the cool autumn night air blows through the streets. It made Lianne shiver, snuggling closer to her father's arm she's hooked her own to. Zayne raises his eyebrow at her, placing a hand over hers.

He sighs. “This is why you should have taken that scarf, Lili.”

“Eh, it's fiiine—I’m always on ice, this is nothing. Plus, I have my dad.” Lianne leans on his shoulder and she throws him a smile, and he returns it.

“You really know what to say, hm?” He chuckles. 

They arrive at their usual night cafe spot, soaking in the warmth provided by the establishment. Lianne insisted she would be the one treating them tonight, Zayne relenting reluctantly after some time.

“You know, your brother would be scolding us again if he sees us here for the third time this week.” Zayne chuckles as their slices of cake and cups of coffee arrive on their table.

Lianne laughs. “Don't worryyy, he's on duty until tomorrow morning, and Mom can't snitch either since she's on a mission. Besides..” she trails off as she took a bite of her own slice, Zayne not catching the mischievous glint in her eyes.

Zayne takes a piece in his mouth, and as he began to chew, the moistness of the sweet treat was both familiar and.. wrong. He looks back up at her, seeing her little smirk.

“.. it's a healthy cake.” 

“!—Lianne-” Zayne hastily swallows the piece and downs his coffee as she began to laugh at his agony of realization.

It was Casey's favorite flavor: carrot cake.

11:11──────────────────────────|──

acc tags: @starmocha @77gigabytes tysm for your zayne kids hcs aaaaa they rlly inspired me more and i got rlly excited when my own hcs appeared in urs <333

[bestofmultiverse]

Between the pages || 2

Aubrey plaza x fem!reader

" I was half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if they’re not much to look at, or even if they’re sort of stupid, you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. "

- J.D. Salinger, The catcher in the rye

Part 1

Y/N blinked, trying to get her bearings in the soft morning light streaming into her bedroom. She wasn’t on the sofa anymore, and she certainly hadn’t fallen asleep in her bed last night. But here she was, tucked neatly under her comforter, and beside her, separated by a few pillows, lay Aubrey. She was asleep, her face softened by rest, her features even more striking in the early morning calm.

A smile crept across Y/N’s face as she studied Aubrey’s peaceful expression. She was undeniably beautiful—not just beautiful for her age, but in a way that felt timeless and grounded. It made Y/N’s stomach flutter, and a slight pang of insecurity hit her; Aubrey was everything Y/N admired—confident, talented, and effortlessly alluring.

Feeling her heart race at the thought of Aubrey waking up to see her staring, Y/N slipped out of bed as quietly as possible, padding to the bathroom for a quick shower. When she returned, she busied herself in the kitchen, quietly making breakfast. The faint hum of the radio kept her company as she toasted bread and scrambled eggs, relishing the simple, cozy act.

“Good morning,” a familiar voice murmured, soft and sleepy, breaking Y/N out of her thoughts.

Y/N turned, catching sight of Aubrey leaning against the doorway, her hair still mussed from sleep. She looked comfortable, yet somehow effortlessly poised, even in Y/N’s small kitchen. Y/N blushed, realizing how close they were.

“Good morning! Do you want something to drink?” Y/N asked, smiling. “I don’t really drink coffee, but I can go grab you some from the café around the corner if you’d like.”

Aubrey’s lips curved into a warm smile. “No need, this is perfect. I’m just happy to be here.” She stepped closer, glancing at the plates Y/N was setting up.

“So… not to rush you out, but I have a mountain of work today,” Y/N said with a small, guilty grin. “You’re welcome to stay, but just a heads-up—I might be a little boring.”

Aubrey laughed, her expression softening. “That’s okay, I get it. I have some things to get to anyway.” She hesitated, then continued, “But… I’d love to see you again, if you’d like that.”

Y/N’s face lit up, her smile wide and genuine. “I’d love that too.”

From then on, their connection only grew. They read together, taking turns with books y/n recommended, and spent hours talking about everything from their childhood dreams to favorite movies. After their third date—a late-night visit to a bookstore followed by a stroll through a quiet park—Aubrey walked Y/N home. They held hands, a shared warmth between them, and when they reached Y/N’s door, Aubrey leaned in, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to her lips. It was careful, as if reading Y/N’s shyness and matching it with tenderness.

As the days turned into weeks, they grew more comfortable, falling into each other’s lives seamlessly. Aubrey was patient, taking her time to get to know Y/N. She made Y/N feel safe, and Y/N adored every minute they spent together. Soon, they were FaceTiming in between meetings, texting about little things that made them think of each other, and finding moments to be together whenever they could.

When they finally crossed that last boundary, sharing their first night together, it was both gentle and passionate. They communicated, both eager yet considerate, learning each other’s wants and needs. Aubrey’s natural confidence took over, her assertiveness balanced by her desire to make Y/N feel loved and respected. Y/N, in turn, was just as attentive, savoring every moment with Aubrey, discovering a balance between playful and deeply intimate.

Two months into their relationship, it wasn’t just the two of them who noticed how special their connection was. After a dinner date, a paparazzi photographer managed to capture a candid shot of them leaving the restaurant hand in hand. By morning, the image was everywhere, spreading faster than Y/N could have imagined.

Aubrey’s publicist called with the news, explaining that the story had already taken off. Y/N knew Aubrey was a public figure, but she hadn’t expected their private moments to become public conversation so suddenly. Their little bubble was shattered, and suddenly her face was online, next to Aubrey’s in articles and tabloid stories speculating about their relationship.

The attention was overwhelming. Y/N’s friends started teasing her about dating “the Aubrey Plaza,” while her family’s reaction was more complicated. They had always known she was queer, but the age difference gave them pause, making them wonder if Y/N was really ready for such a serious relationship.

As the media frenzy grew, it was hard for Y/N to brush off the harsh comments online—insinuations about why Aubrey would date someone younger, or assumptions about Y/N’s motives. It felt as if the world was intruding into their private life, prying apart the joy they had found together.

But Aubrey was her anchor through it all. Late one evening, after Y/N shared how overwhelmed she felt, Aubrey wrapped her arms around her and whispered, “Forget them. I know who you are, and you know who I am. The rest… it doesn’t matter.”

They held each other close that night, letting the world outside fade, finding comfort in each other’s presence. And as they lay there, Y/N knew that, no matter the scrutiny, what she shared with Aubrey was real, something worth fighting for—even if they’d have to face the world together, one step at a time.

As days went on, the intensity of the media attention didn’t exactly die down, but Y/N and Aubrey learned to adjust. Aubrey handled it with practiced ease, guiding Y/N with little tips on how to ignore the comments and dodge prying eyes. Despite the pressure, they found solace in each other, learning to carve out quiet moments that felt like their own little world.

One evening, they decided to stay in for a movie night at Y/N’s apartment. Y/N had loaded up a few of Aubrey’s favorite old films, trying her best to make it feel special—a few candles, some popcorn, and a cozy blanket they could share.

“You know,” Aubrey said, settling down next to Y/N, “I don’t think I’ve had a better night in ages.” She glanced around, smiling at the thoughtful touches Y/N had put together. “You really went all out.”

Y/N blushed, nudging her playfully. “It’s just popcorn and candles. Hardly a red carpet.”

Aubrey smirked, tilting her head. “It’s the thought, and you, that make it perfect.” She reached for Y/N’s hand, entwining their fingers, and squeezed gently.

As the movie started, they fell into a comfortable silence, Y/N nestled into Aubrey’s side. The world outside felt far away, reduced to nothing more than the faint city hum in the distance. Halfway through the film, Aubrey leaned over and softly kissed Y/N’s forehead, her lips lingering just a little longer than usual. Y/N looked up, her heart skipping as she met Aubrey’s gentle gaze.

“Thank you for sticking with me through all of this,” Aubrey murmured, tucking a loose strand of Y/N’s hair behind her ear.

Y/N’s hand found its way to Aubrey’s cheek, tracing the soft lines of her face. “I’m not going anywhere. I knew this might be hard, but… you’re worth it.” She offered a small, reassuring smile. “And I’m learning. I mean, I’ve got the best teacher.”

Aubrey chuckled, pulling Y/N closer. “Flattery will get you everywhere, just so you know.”

They spent the rest of the night laughing, sharing stories, and talking about the little things they hadn’t yet told each other. Y/N felt a kind of warmth she hadn’t felt before—a love that was both grounding and freeing, as if Aubrey had opened up parts of herself she didn’t know existed.

A few weeks later, they decided to spend a weekend out of the city, heading to a secluded cabin by the lake. Aubrey had rented it on a whim, sensing that they both needed a little time to breathe away from the constant hum of the city.

On their first morning there, Y/N woke up to the smell of coffee and soft music playing. She wandered out to find Aubrey on the deck, wrapped in a flannel blanket with two mugs steaming in her hands. The sun was just rising, casting a soft pink glow over the lake.

Aubrey turned when she heard Y/N approach, her eyes lighting up. “Morning, sleepyhead. Thought you’d like to join me for the sunrise.” She handed Y/N a mug of tea, remembering she didn’t drink coffee.

They sat in comfortable silence, watching the sun climb slowly above the horizon, casting a shimmering path across the water. It was quiet, almost surreal, and Y/N felt the weight of everything slip away, replaced with the calm of being completely at peace in the moment.

After a while, Aubrey shifted, turning toward Y/N. “You know,” she said softly, “this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

Y/N looked at her, her heart swelling at the sincerity in Aubrey’s eyes. “I feel the same way,” she whispered. Then, unable to resist, she leaned in, capturing Aubrey’s lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

As they pulled away, Aubrey grinned, her eyes shining with something close to wonder. “I don’t care about the noise, Y/N. As long as I have you, I’m exactly where I need to be.”

Y/n beamed at her

"So, what are we reading today?" Aubrey asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence

"I thought maybe 'the catcher in the rye, its a classic"

Aubrey nodded before pulling the younger woman into another soft kiss.

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other and the quiet beauty of the morning, with their book and hot drinks, feeling as if, just for that moment, they were the only two people in the world.

_____

Just a quick note:

i dont really think itll be a series, maybe a bunch of chapters that might actually work as a full story or at least the same like universe, but im not sure if ill continue to write it regularly or not so just an heads up.

Also im in love with Aubrey plaza.