#either he dies or i do im so fucking done

[456-is-the-way]

Hi! I was wondering if you if you could do a smutty In-ho x fem! Reader x Gi-Hun. Something along the line of they are both pining and see each other go to talk to reader alone and decide to wait. In-ho talks to her during lights out and Gi-hun talks to her doing mingle. In the final fight, she goes with either in-ho or Gi-hun and the stand of at the end, ends with them deciding to truce for a moment and share reader.

A/n: OMG A smutty story with both the hottest daddies!? Yet people keep the requests coming because I have many more to write! I hope to post at least 3 stories a week only because I am returning to my job after my holiday vacation! ALSO regarding the TAGLIST IDK why it won't let me add people like some it won't bring their name up SO I am not sure how to fix that RIP Im sorry y'all!!! ALSO, late tonight or tomorrow my part 1 of my 4-part Gi-Hun story is coming out!! (Hints of In-ho x reader) will also be in the story! Next week I'll have 3 more requests stories done!

Trigger warning: SMUT

Squid Game Masterlist

In-ho x Reader x Gi-hun

Love and War

Being in the games was the last thing (Y/n) was expecting, or at least in a life-or-death situation. She took a breath, looking over the group she was lucky enough to be in. Gi-hun did not hide the looks in her direction. Her (e/c) orbs meet his. (Y/n) could feel her cheeks warm up as Gi-hun winked. She turned away, looking at the ground quickly. How could two people be so obvious in their lustful looks? Their group quickly picked up on their subtle hints, flirtatious works, mindful touches, and lustful gazes. However, it sparked a rivalry between Gi-hun and his newfound friendship with Young-Il. The other gentleman also expressed his feelings towards (Y/n), which did not go unnoticed. (Y/n) happily reciprocated the attention she received from both of these handsome bachelors. It was lights out, and as normal, their group gathered in one spot, taking turns on night shift duty. Many thought of them as one of the strongest teams for now. In-ho sighed deeply as he was woken by Jung-bae. “Your turn.” He whispered. In-ho only responded with a grunt getting up to take his place by (Y/n). In-ho looked over her figure. It honestly pained him to lie to (Y/n) of all people. While scouting for participants, he would collect all their data and reasoning for poor financial situations. He never showed favor or pity towards anyone until now. Why did it have to be her of all people?

“I can take watch by myself if you need me to. I want you to have all the rest. Especially for the next challenge… I am nervous to find out what it may be.” In-ho whispered. She gave him such a warm and loving smile. In-ho had not felt butterflies like this in his stomach in so long the feeling was almost foreign. The way her eyes would almost sparkle while gazing into his. In-ho felt his breath be taken away every time.

“No, I won't allow you to not have a partner. We agreed on pairs of two. I am going to be fine. I could say the same for you, Young-Il.” She gazed into his eyes and before anything else could be said In-ho leaned in kissing her deeply. (Y/n) gasped but did not pull back once his warm lips dominated hers. In-ho cupped her cheek before letting his hand trail down squeezing her beast. “W-Wait.” Her voice seemed weak from the desire but quickly In-ho stopped all his advances.

“Fuck (Y/n) I am so sorry if I hurt you.” His eyes showed nothing but absolute worry.

“Young-Il, you didn’t hurt me. I just. We cant I-”

“You love Gi-hun. Don’t you?” He asked.

She looked away rubbing her temples. “I am unsure who I like. I have feelings for you both but if we act out on them… If you or him dies I would never be able to get over your death, or is..” She leans against In-ho resting on his shoulder.

“I understand…I love you.”

“I… I love you as well.” (Y/n) whispered cuddling into him.

….

After the night the next game had started early that morning, and (Y/n) had not been expecting what was to come. As the game commenced it felt very intense making sure the groups had the correct amount of people in each room. They even teamed up with new players they clicked with instantly. As it began getting lower in numbers for each door (Y/n) became nervous. She felt Gi-hun grab her hand gently. “I got you.” He whispered. Once the merry-go-round stopped and the number was ‘2’ he instantly took off with her ultimately forgetting about any of the others. Even shamelessly (Y/n) did not even look back for In-ho. Once in the room the door instantly shut. The female leaned against the wall as Gi-hun was breathing heavily on the other side of the room, “Gi-hun, are you okay?”

Gi-hun did not bother to answer before walking over to (Y/n) and kissing her deeply. The female lets a shaken moan out as their bodies are pressed against each other. His hands hold her waist before lowering down her backside and cupping her ass. “G…Gi-hun, babe, we cant.” Her body was on fire for this handsome older man.

“You love me… I know you do.” He let you go resting his forehead against yours.

“I…I do love you. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you. I can’t be with you Gi-hun. I wont risk getting attached-”

“Is it because of Young-Il? Is that the true reason? I heard you both talking last night. I know you have feelings for him of some kind… I want to know if he-”

“No, my love it's not because of Young-Il… I care for you both but if I got too attached and lost either of you I… I wouldn't be able to ever move on.” When the doors unlocked she took his hand, “Talk later okay?”

Gi-hun nods walking out as their hand in hand. In-ho instantly noticed and sent a glare at Gi-hun who met his gaze with a stronger one.

…

(Y/n) was soaked in her friend's blood as she was on her knees. Gi-hun and Jung-Bae beside her on their knees. In front of them stood a man who organized the games. With a quick hand motion from the man in the black mask, Jung-Bae was pulled away. Gi-hun went to help but a gun was quickly pulled out.

“Don’t” (Y/n) begged, tearing up. Her eyes widen as the gun slowly is lowered.

“I love you (Y/n).” The Front Man whispered she glared into his eyes.

“I hate you.” She glared. In-ho took a moment before removing his mask. Both (Y/n) and Gi-hun gave his a look showing all their bundled up emotions. “You… are the Frontman. HOW COULD YOU!” (Y/n) cried loudly .

In-ho leans down, “My real name is In-ho, I joined yes, but I never expected to fall in love with you! Please… Let me have you before anything else happens… Gi-hun.” He turned to his friend who reluctantly nodded they both desired you and that over powered all current feeling. The triangle guard let Gi-hun free before leaving.

“Please lets forget about all of this. For a few moments.” Gi-hun adds agreeing with In-ho. What felt like eternity she agrees.

Gi-hun instantly pulled her against his frame smashing their lips together. In-ho kneels down pressing against her back side kissing up (Y/n)’s neck. The female moaned loudly into the kiss as her body is sandwiched between theirs. “Fuck.” She gasped as Gi-hun trailed down to the other side of her neck. In-ho proceeded to slides his large hands under her shirt cupping her bare breasts. Her nipples already were hard. “Ngh! (Y/n) whined as he pinch them roughly pulling her buds harshly.

“Take her shirt off.” In-ho growled.

“Slide her pants down.” Gi-hun adds. (Y/n) had no time to react before her shirt was being lifted and sweatpants pulled down swiftly. Once practically naked she puts a hand on their bulges rubbing both men. They let out a shaken groan each, Gi-hun’s voice held a submissive tone while In-ho growled dominantly. Their already hardening cocks were at full attention. Gi-hun’s leaking precum at the tip. In-ho leans his forhead against (Y/n)’s shoulder cock twitching as she worked both touch starved men.

“F-Fuck I’m close.” Gi-hun whined.

In-ho chuckled,” Baby slow down before he blows a load in your hands. Let us inside of you.”

“MMmm… But will b-both fit?” She asked inhaling as Gi-hun reached down feeling her soaking wet panties.

“Fuck you are soaked honey. Did jerking us off turn you on that much?.. Yes dear we will both fit.”

(Y/n) nods and spreads her legs, In-ho nods to Gi-hun, She arches, feeling both their cocks brushing her entrance. “AHH FUCK Gi-hun. In-ho!~” (Y/n) was held up by the men who began roughly thrusting into her tight and warm pussy.

“Fuck baby you are tight.” “Your pussy was made for your us.” “Going to fill you up.”

Both of their praises made the knot tighten inside of her. “FUCK!” She cried out as their cock meet the perfect rythem until she felt the euphoria hit all at once. Her pussy clams down making both men cum deep inside. The three now lay there panting in pleasure. (Y/n) closed her eyes.

“I love you both.” Her voice is strained. Gi-hun instantly responsed with a quick ‘I love you back’ .

In-ho sighed deeply kissing her cheek knowing nothing would be the same after this. He loved her too much.

[treatbuckywkisses]

HI I STAYED UP WAY TOO LATE TO READ THIS PART !!!! :))

(also this might be my longest rb so far)

SIX UPON A TIME

"You weren’t sure what you wanted him to do, but it was fun to watch the time bomb tick." - let's kiss him on the mouth 🫶🏻

"A reason to get up in the morning." - SHUT. YOUR. MOUTH.

"But then you blink back into reality again when Bucky sits you down on the closed lid of your toilet and slowly makes you let go of his shirt, kneeling down in front of you. The blue of his eyes is devastating, even though you have to keep blinking to keep him in focus." - No I can't do this 

"Maybe that’s the most terrifying thought of them all. You would die for him. Once, twice, however many times are necessary if that meant that he’s safe. " - Nika I'm fucking crying. I wish I was exaggerating but I'm actually fucking crying before 10pm.

"But it seems like you haven’t known it at all, because right now, you feel the knowledge of it, of him, surge through you with all its facets. You can’t even begin to put it into words, because where would you start? How do you explain what he makes you feel when he hasn’t been there himself, not in any way that matters or sticks? And if it’s never happened at all, if time keeps unraveling like this, how can it even be real? " - the woman that you are. Oh. My. God. You are completely unreal this is phenomenal.

"His breath hitches when they dip lower, almost reaching the place you’ve watched dimple when he laughs, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t laugh, either." - I have actual tears in my eyes you are so evil 

"That day, he dies with your stupid nickname on his lips, twisted into something that looks strangely close to that earlier smile. This one doesn’t have time to reach his eyes, though." - Nika I'm fucking sick to my stomach what the fuck is wrong with you 

Brief intermission bc I got too into it and read the rest twice before coming back to make notes (I was too immersed)

A crack in the sky you are insane I would FREAK

Where TF does bucky go during the day. As a naturally nosy gal the unknowns in this story make me ITCH I can't wait for everything to be revealed

"Why won’t you look at me? " - this is so hurtful why are you being so mean to me

HOW IS THE DELIVERY MAN EARLY IM LITERALLY IN SHOCK AND WE MOVED ON FROM THIS TOO FAST????????

"You take a sip of your tea and some feeling returns to your translucent fingers. Strange’s cloak draws itself around your shoulders." - hehe we have the cloak 🫶🏻 

""I came to you," you realize. "Or, I will, once I get out of this." The relief that washes over you makes you want to sob. "So there is a way out?"" - why did this make ME relieved like I'm stuck in the loop too 😭 I literally have felt anxious for our dear reader like I'm sick and this has soothed my heart the smallest bit (I'm still scared of you)

"You can’t help but wonder when he’s last tried the bed." - Frick you for putting him in the floor what has my baby done to you let him be comfortable 😭😭 

"No," Strange answers. "This is just when he wakes up." - this made me LAUGH I needed that 

CAPS BDAY IM CRACKING UP THATS SUCH A FUN SILLY MOMENT

"He might has well have doused you in a bucket of ice water. You’re suddenly very aware of every single cell in your body, and you don’t like the challenge sparkling in his eyes." - THEY ARE SO IN LOVE MY GOD IM SICK 

Why are we waking up to silence I'm gonna throw up Nika 

What did the powers do 

Alpine can see us that is both cute and scary 😅 

"You lose a few hours here and there, time seemingly speeding up at random sometimes now. One morning, Bucky isn’t in the gym like he usually is, and you work yourself up over it so much you nearly have a panic attack. In the end, you almost crash into him outside of his room, and a rush of reassurance floods through you with such force you can’t even look at him." - what is wrong with you 

"That time, Sam is there when Bucky gets shot, and it’s his cry that follows you into the next day. Your hands are clean this time, and somehow that feels worse." - how dare you write these 2 paragraphs and also put them so close together????????

"And then it’s you who’s speechless, because the shock on Peter Parker’s face is more than you bargained for." - FULL. BODY. CHILLS. WHAT A MIND YOU HAVE NIKA. I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS.

"Sweat pearled on your forehead as you and the universe held your breath again. You could feel your hold slipping with every second that wasn’t allowed to pass. Time was impatient with you." - THE LAST LINE ?????? I'm speechless 

"And with time stumbling and flailing around in confusion, you made it out of the building and into the waiting cab." - ok chapter 7 pls 🫶🏻 

I'm kidding you are PERFECT I can't believe I missed out on this for as long as I did?!!!!!!! Thank you so much for sharing your incredible brain with me I want to kiss you on the mouth I love you!!!!!!!

time after time [6]

series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 12.8k

chapter warnings: maybe reacquaint yourselves with the story premise, it's been a hot minute; characters refusing to be honest with themselves and each other; violence against side characters, minor injury descriptions; strange is still annoying

a/n: this is quite possibly the scariest fic update i've ever made. a lot has happened since the last chapter was posted, and i won't bore you with all of it. suffice it to say, i missed sharing this story. thank you for being patient with me.

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

six: butterfly effect

Working with Sam and Bucky was different than working with Natasha and Steve had been.

At the Compound, it had felt terrifyingly easy to find your place, to slip into the new role they granted you as if you were always meant to fill it. You’d felt that way before, and it hadn’t turned out quite so well. Maybe that was why you used to dread the end.

Now, however, for the first time in a while, you constantly had to prove yourself in order to not be left back in that dark place they’d found you in, alone and trying to make sense of any of it. And you liked that. The challenge was something you could live with, something you could enjoy more than the ever chilling anxiousness that things were simply too good to be true.

So when Sam called you on for a follow-up mission shortly after the first one, you jumped at the chance.

It didn’t matter that you barely talked about anything but work, even when you were hanging out in your spare time; in fact, you much preferred that to digging up the past. You even learned to find a wicked sort of enjoyment in provoking Bucky’s initial dislike of you to the point of where he would barely speak to you at all unless it was to snap at you.

You weren’t sure what you wanted him to do, but it was fun to watch the time bomb tick.

It wasn’t as easy to get under the new cap’s skin.

"You’re making us sound like we’re partners in a law firm," Sam said, a smile clearly audible in his voice even though his eyes didn’t betray it. Bucky didn’t even dignify you with a clench of his jaw.

"What?" you said, crossing your legs. "Every newspaper in the city calls you 'Wilson and Barnes'. Don’t you ever read the articles about yourselves?"

"Unlike some people, I don’t have all the time in the world," Sam said, leaning back on the couch with his eyes closed.

"Pity. The Bulletin called you the 'nation’s new dynamic duo' last week." You looked at Bucky, your eyebrows raised in amusement. "You’ve officially been downgraded to a sidekick, Barnes."

He answered with an empty glare of his own. "And what does that make you?" he said, but not like a question.

"Nothing at all," you still grinned. "Everything is right in the universe."

The reporters had yet to pick up on your addition to the team, which was proof enough that your powers still sufficed to fly under the radar. Combined with the fact that you were actually regularly talking to people again—and people who weren’t your therapist or your customers no less—, things almost felt like they were settling into a new kind of normal. Still somewhat weird, and still a struggle each day, but somewhat hopeful, nevertheless.

You’d almost forgotten what that could feel like.

“Right. You’d prefer people not knowing about your creepy powers.”

"Aww." You tilted your head to the side happily. "You think I’m creepy."

Bucky scoffed into his mug, refusing to look at you like he always did, and then he strolled off again.

In truth, you couldn’t blame him all that much. You’d lived with your powers all your life and still found them unsettling sometimes, particularly when they got away from you and left you trapped in a universe that refused to move.

That was none of his business, though.

Besides, Bucky had taken to moving around so quietly you could never tell he was there until he’d cough and you’d flinch, usually dropping whatever you were holding in your hands. You’d already cracked your phone screen twice.

Not that he’d know, or care if he did. It gave you great satisfaction to erase his amused smirk from existence.

"Give it time," Sam said without moving. "He doesn’t like new people."

"Neither do I," you murmured, and he snorted. "What?"

"Pretend with me all you want, but maybe do a bit of introspection there."

You crossed your arms with a pout. "You sound like my therapist."

"Mhm," Sam hummed, opening one eye to look at you. "You owe me fifty bucks for that."

"Fuck you."

"Oh, would you look at that, the price just went up."

He chuckled as you flipped him off and went to look for the coffee pot.

Of course, your way got blocked. The downsides of not hating having people around.

Bucky was leaning against the counter, considering you. "You go to therapy?"

"You should try it some time," you said distractedly, reaching around him to get your favorite mug. Bucky recoiled like he was afraid you’d burn him. You shook your head in annoyance. "Helps with the stink eye."

"Is that what they told you?"

"They told me I needed to process my grief, but I decided to focus on some more achievable goals." You took a sip of your coffee, sighing in comfort. "We came up with a compromise."

Bucky scoffed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He still hadn’t taken his gloves off around you.

"Sounds like a way to drag it out," he said.

You frowned into your cup. "It’s not a race, Barnes. There’s no finish line for this shit."

Something odd went over his face, but he went back to avoiding your gaze when you tried to make it out. You knew him well enough by then to get the hint, and so you left him alone.

What was it to you if he didn’t want to warm up to you. That had no bearing on the fact that overall, your situation wasn’t all too bad anymore.

It was something, you supposed as you curled up in your spot on the couch with your book later that day, slipping in and out of time to keep your company a little longer because deep down, you knew you were sick of being alone.

It was weird and different, yes, but it was still something anyway. Something to do with your afternoons again.

A reason to get up in the morning.

*****

"What are you talking about?" Bucky asks quietly, carefully, but he makes no attempt to pull back from your embrace. It allows you to take another shuddering breath, inhaling his scent until it makes you dizzy.

The fact that you probably won’t be this close to him again any time soon makes you press into his chest even harder, hard enough to feel his heart flutter against your forehead, the shock of the situation making it pick up speed.

For a split second, you slip into a sort of vacuum, your thoughts quieting as he keeps mumbling to you, and in that blissful moment, your situation doesn’t seem quite so dire anymore, more like a bad dream. You’re safe now, aren’t you? How could you not be?

But then you blink back into reality again when Bucky sits you down on the closed lid of your toilet and slowly makes you let go of his shirt, kneeling down in front of you. The blue of his eyes is devastating, even though you have to keep blinking to keep him in focus.

You don’t want to have to do this, you realize once your gasps for air start calming again. You’re not sure if you can bear it.

But nothing in this loop has been about what you wanted.

And so your resolve is made, with your heart sinking until it’s hidden away deep, deep inside of your chest. You ball your hands into fists to keep your fingers from twitching.

Two or three times he watches you inhale, start to say something, halt before you can, almost choking on it. Like your body is refusing to go through with it.

"How do you know when I’m lying?" you finally ask, and your voice sounds oddly clear in your small bathroom.

Bucky’s face goes from concern to confusion, his frown deepening. You want to smoothe it away with your thumb.

You close your eyes so maybe the temptation goes away.

"What?" he asks, and he still sounds so damn gentle.

"I’ve never been able to lie to you," you say. "What’s my tell?"

You can feel him move away from you and the ache of it makes you look again. His shirt and his hands are covered in his own blood, and you’re sure there’s some fucking metaphor in the way it stains the golden inlets of his vibranium arm crimson but for the most part, you can’t unsee the damn irony of it all.

Because you’ve pissed him off now.

"You scared the shit out of me, Y/N. And Sam, too." There’s the sharpness in his voice you know all too well. You haven’t heard it in a while. "What the hell is going on?"

"I’m trapped in a time loop," you say, squeezing your fists more tightly. "I’ve been reliving this day for weeks, my powers aren’t working, I’m the only one who can stop time from completely collapsing, I can’t do that without my powers, and you’re gonna die later today. Am I lying?"

It’s maybe the worst way you’ve ever told him, because watching Bucky’s face change is almost too much. This is exactly why you’re doing it, though; as long as you’re going through this loop with a giant guilty knot in your stomach, you’re not going to make any progress. And you need to put an end to all of it.

So you meet his gaze, almost unwavering, and you don’t blink.

His shock bursts free as an incredulous laugh. "What?"

"I’m stuck," you say again, slower, nodding at his hands, his blood, continuing to push, "and you keep dying."

Bucky looks down, then, before his gaze falls back onto you and he sits back on his heels. The pause lasts for way too long, heavy and smelling of iron, and you’re pretty sure you’re suffocating. He only says one word, and it sounds so defeated. "How?"

You swallow heavily. "You got shot on a mission," you say, but he shakes his head, the fire returning to his eyes.

"No. How did you get stuck?"

"I …" You blink, because you’re not prepared for this question, because you can never predict what he’s going to say, because he keeps doing that to you, because somehow, and not like you’ve expected, you feel like you’ve been here before.

How did it happen? That’s not … Okay.

"It was an accident," you finally say, helplessly, defensively.

There’s a flicker of something in Bucky’s eyes. "What happened?"

"You died. You died that first time and I didn’t—I couldn’t …" You swallow the sob that threatens to shake your voice again. Damnit, you’re supposed to push him away.

He moves his arm, then hesitates, as if he wants to reach out to you but changes his mind at the very last moment.

Right. He doesn’t normally do that.

Except he has.

He has held your hand and pulled you closer and written on your arm and let you lean on him with the full weight of your body, as if to him, you weighed nothing at all. He’s been offering to carry your load so many times, and he doesn’t remember a single one of them.

"Please don’t look at me like that," you say tonelessly, watching Bucky retreat.

"Like what?"

"Like I’m gonna fall apart at any moment. And yes," you add when his mouth opens, "I—I know I just did, I’m aware of the irony, but this is exactly why I can’t keep telling you, I don’t—I can’t stand it." You press your wrists against your temples, ignoring the buzz of the whirling time symbols against your skin, the stinging in your eyes. "You shouldn’t even—I mean, are you even the slightest bit worried about yourself? Because I feel like I’m the only one here, and I should’ve just—"

You stop yourself, shaking your head. Your hands are very clammy all of a sudden, and when you tug at your rings just to do something, one of them slips off your finger and clangs against the tiles as if to punctuate the silence.

When you reach down, you move your wrist in a way that makes you hiss in pain and flinch back. Bucky’s eyes flit between your own and your hand, his frown deepening in a strangely soft way. "Did you break it?" he asks quietly.

"I’m fine," you mumble, and he looks at you disapprovingly. "You’d grabbed my hand just before …"

His jaw twitches as the blame settles in again, and you would do fucking anything to finally make him understand that none of this is his fault. That you should be in pain for what you’re putting him through.

"It should’ve been me," you tell him, because it’s true.

Even earlier in the week, you would’ve taken great delight in seeing Bucky Barnes’ face fall at something you’d said. Hell, you’d have probably enjoyed it on Thursday, because there used to be this easy sort of gratification that came from riling him up, from catching him off guard.

Seeing it now, though?

It makes your fingers twitch.

"Don’t say that. Not even as a joke."

"I’m not joking." You can feel your pulse in your ears. "They aimed a shot at me, and you pushed me out of the way, and you died. So by all accounts, if your instincts weren’t so damn noble all the time, it should’ve been me, and if I weren’t such a fucking coward, I’d have gone back and switched places with you weeks ago."

The thought terrifies you, even though it’s true. No part of you wants to go through the things Bucky is, but if someone gave you the choice between either one of you right now, you wouldn’t even have to think about it.

Maybe that’s the most terrifying thought of them all. You would die for him. Once, twice, however many times are necessary if that meant that he’s safe.

"I’d like to see you try," Bucky says, and something slams into your chest as an old familiar shiver runs down your spine.

There’s a pained edge to his gaze, contemplative and heartbreaking and …

"You’re doing it again," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What am I doing?" His hand brushes your knee, and your skin is left searing.

You swallow heavily. "Being noble."

Bucky chuckles softly, and his eyes leave yours for just a moment. "Don’t exactly feel like that."

He’s beautiful.

It’s a new thought, despite everything. Even when you’ve noticed it before, you’d roll your eyes at the fact and move on, because this was Bucky. So what if his face was delectably handsome?

But it seems like you haven’t known it at all, because right now, you feel the knowledge of it, of him, surge through you with all its facets. You can’t even begin to put it into words, because where would you start? How do you explain what he makes you feel when he hasn’t been there himself, not in any way that matters or sticks? And if it’s never happened at all, if time keeps unraveling like this, how can it even be real?

So it’s pure instinct that makes you move, like someone would pinch themselves to ensure they’re not asleep, even though you’re very aware that this isn’t just a dream. You need to confirm that Bucky is real, though.

The air stands still when your fingertips trace along his cheekbone, leaving a delicate flush behind in their trail, barely touching and yet …

And yet.

His breath hitches when they dip lower, almost reaching the place you’ve watched dimple when he laughs, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t laugh, either.

There’s a scraping sound at the closed bathroom door, followed by a short knock. You flinch backwards.

"I’m leaving the first aid kit on the bed," Sam calls from the other side. "Just … holler if you need me."

"Thanks, Sam," Bucky says coarsely, and you can hear steps receding. The scratching continues, though. That damn cat.

Finally, he breaks eye contact, clearing his throat.

"Do you want me to help you clean up?"

You shake your head. You’re not sure you could stomach more of this. "I’m good, don’t … Don’t worry about it."

Bucky drags a hand through his hair, muttering something to himself you can’t quite make out. Slowly, he gets to his feet again.

"We need to come up with a plan," he says, and you want to cry except … you’re tired. Tired and sick of this.

"I need to come up with a plan," you correct him. "We have been trying to do this as a team for weeks, and it doesn’t change anything except waste time and …" And hurt. "I can’t do it anymore, Buck."

There must be something in your voice that thaws his defiant glare a little. "So what’s the plan?"

And with a sigh, you fill him in on everything that’s been going on with Strange and your powers. Again. One last time.

You have to do this alone.

Bucky ignores your insistence that you can manage just fine and sets your wrist while you talk. Alpine, now free to roam wherever she pleases again, has decided the bathroom isn’t quite that interesting after a short look inside, and is now taking a nap in the spot of sunshine next to your bed.

"New deal," he says once you’re done, once he’s thought about it all, and you raise your eyebrows. "Don’t do anything stupid."

"You know me," you smile, checking the makeshift dressing around your hand. The green symbols are hidden by the layers of gauze.

Bucky doesn’t bite. "I’m serious, just—don’t."

"How would you know?"

"I wouldn’t," he says, snapping the first aid kit shut so vehemently Alpine’s tail twitches. "But I trust you."

Your head whips up at his words, even though his back is still turned to you. He doesn’t see your face as your heart is jostled into a new rhythm, so violently and unexpectedly that you lift your hand without thinking, pinkie outstretched.

"Promise."

He smiles when he notices, and you wish you could take a picture to carry with you through the rest of this nightmare.

That day, he dies with your stupid nickname on his lips, twisted into something that looks strangely close to that earlier smile. This one doesn’t have time to reach his eyes, though.

***

There’s been a change in the weather.

Not literally, no; of course not literally. Fuck, you long for a single cloud, a raindrop, a damn hailstorm to break the streak of endless perfectly sunny days that don’t fit your mood in the slightest.

But there’s a tinge to the sky that makes your stomach turn. It’s not very obvious to anyone who hasn’t looked at the exact same sunset for weeks on end, just a single strip of color across a storybook horizon. It looks like a crack.

"Do you see that?" you ask warily when you notice it for the first time, ominous and yet almost completely hidden by the trees and the buildings. Just dancing around the edge of your vision like another mockery.

"What?" Sam asks, eyes not leaving the path ahead.

"That … thing in the sky. What is that?"

Bucky stops and squints at where you’re pointing. "It’s called a cloud," he says dryly.

"With that color?" you murmur, but continue walking when he stops to turn to you, your wrist tingling. His stare is searing your neck, but you ignore that, too.

The best course of action, you’ve learned, is to shut your brain off as soon as you get out of the quinjet and just go through the motions, trying to ride out the mission like you’ve done dozens of times before. There’s a sort of autopilot you’ve fallen into after a couple of days, and it’s the only thing keeping you somewhat sane. Most days, it means it’s all over quickly, and you can’t help but feel glad about that.

You’ve given up trying to change your own actions to get him through the day.

But this …

It’s something new, and in all this monotony, that thought is both frightening and exciting. It distracts you enough to get you off script.

"Lovely interior design," Sam mumbles like he always does.

"Remember how this was supposed to be a day off?" You kick one of the pebbles in your path with a sigh. "What happened to 'don’t worry, Y/N, after training the day is all yours'?"

"Occupational hazard," Sam says, checking his map for the thousandth time.

"You know what I mean."

"Don’t you have tomorrow off?" Bucky says over the intercom.

Tomorrow. "Right." It comes out somewhat strained, your fingernails digging into the palm of your hand. "And why do you know that?"

Sam shakes his head and there’s a brief crackle of static in your ear. For a fraction of a second, you nearly dare to hope Bucky will give you an answer, even though you have no clue what it would be.

"They’re heading your way now," he says instead, "so get a move on."

And just like that, you’re back on track.

Quickly clearing your throat of the lump that has formed there, you say tonelessly, "I probably only have one reset left. Two, if we’re lucky and you two aren’t being stupid again."

It’s taken you a while to get used to it. To the constant lying.

You’ve worn fingerless gloves on missions before, so that’s not raised any questions from the others yet, and your rings stay hidden away. You’ve been more reluctant to take them off since the one you lost on your bathroom floor vanished into thin air.

The other thing you’ve picked up on while endlessly repeating this day is that Bucky is less likely to catch you in a lie if he can’t see your face.

So you’ve made an effort of spending as little time as possible with him.

It’s surprisingly easy to stay in your room for the majority of the day, because he doesn’t remember it ever being any other way. Even today’s little exchange will be lost to the loop soon enough, just like that little pause he made, just like the bullet through his heart.

Still, when you wake up with a start on Friday, July 4th, you look at the sky first. Its perfect blue doesn’t soothe the sinking feeling in your stomach at all.

You’ve been waiting for something to change for weeks, and now that it’s here, you don’t like it at all.

"What did you expect?" Strange says with an infuriating composure once you’ve nervously recounted your experience. "I told you, time isn’t supposed to get stuck in this way. Of course your reality was going to act up sooner or later."

"I really feel like you should be more concerned about this," you mutter, letting a ball of green energy pass from your left hand to the right. It’s about the size of a quarter now.

"Honestly," Strange answers, "I thought something like this would have happened a while ago." He taps his fingers together. "Again. Slower."

"So what am I supposed to do then, just ignore it?" The green ball pulses with your indignation, turns around itself once and then sinks into your palm again.

"In all likelihood, it’s a one time glitch. If everything is back to normal today, I wouldn’t worry about it."

Your thumb rubs across the empty space on your finger. "Easy for you to say if you’re not the one who’s stuck in an endless hellscape."

"Aren’t I?"

You both roll your eyes at each other, but then you bite the inside of your cheek again, unable to shake the feeling of a whole new shade of dread. "What if it’s not just a one time glitch?"

The corners of Strange’s cloak roll up on themselves, and he doesn’t meet your eye when he says, "We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it."

It’s still early when you return to the present, too early for Bucky to be back from wherever he’s always going, so you decide to venture out of your room again, stretching your tired limbs. You’re pretty sure at this point that waking up on the floor is never going to feel fun.

Sam is in the kitchen as always, reading something on his laptop. He’s still sitting down, which means that it’s even earlier than you expected. You miss these early parts of the day, the calm before the storm.

If today were only made up of these few hours, you suppose, it might not be half so bad.

You pull up a chair next to him and lean a cheek against your hand. "What’re you doing?"

"Research." Sam sighs, rubbing his temples. "Remember that ULTIMATUM group?"

"Never heard of them," you say with a small yawn. "Is that an acronym? What does it stand for?"

Sam gives you a glare and your mouth twitches slightly.

"Anyway," he continues, turning his laptop so you can see the article he’s reading. "They’ve been more active again lately. Acquired a couple thousand dollars’ worth of lab equipment through one of their contacts and then went underground again."

Of course, you know all this. You’ve been over it again and again, back when you were all still trading information like it could save Bucky’s life. Like there was a deeper meaning behind any of this damn loop other than the fact that you, and you alone, fucked up.

Useless.

You close the mental door on those thoughts and take a deep breath. You hate to admit it, but all of this sitting around with your thoughts bullshit you’ve been doing has actually helped you to clear your head somewhat—if only to make it through the parts of the day you can’t avoid.

"And now what?" you ask, pretending to just have reacquainted yourself with the topic.

"Now," Sam says, taking his laptop with him as he stands up and strolls over to the kitchen island, "I’m waiting for Torres to get back to me so we can decide our next steps once we’re all recovered." He gives you a meaningful look and you scowl.

Then, slowly, his words register in your brain, and you stare at his back as he stretches and then moves to make some coffee, wordlessly taking one of your mugs out of the cupboard as well as his own.

"You don’t seem too worried," you say hesitantly.

Sam shrugs. "Until we have a proper lead, there’s not much we can do. And I doubt they’ll be doing any actual damage any time soon. They’re a lot more covert than the Flag Smashers ever were."

"Right," you say, more to yourself than in response.

"Try that again, less convincing?"

"I don’t know," you mutter, slowly following him to lean against the fridge. "Just … what if Torres did find something? Should I be getting ready?"

Sam frowns. "Are you not telling me something again?"

You try to shake the thought, pulling your arms around you. "Forget it."

You don’t, though.

It keeps bugging you, because that day like any other day, he knocks on your door at 4:32 on the dot, and you go on that mission anyway. And even though this has been happening for weeks, you’re just starting to suspect that you are, in fact, still not getting the whole picture.

***

Catching a glimpse of Sam’s phone turns out to be more difficult than you first thought.

You’re still trying to get the timing exactly right a couple of days later, and you miscalculate enough to catch Bucky on his way upstairs.

"Hey," he says, his shoulders tense when he looks at you. There’s a restlessness to him that he’s not quick enough to hide; or maybe you’ve just grown more perceptive when it comes to him.

"Hi," you say, crossing your hands behind your back. "Where’ve you been?"

He shrugs. "For a walk."

You already know he won’t elaborate if you try poking, so you don’t. "Was it good?"

"Lotta people." He hesitates when you continue to not meet his eye, and then he says, "Do you want to talk about it?"

You swallow, ignoring the tingling sensation on your wrist. "Not particularly. Do you?"

Bucky’s jaw twitches. "Nah."

Somehow, you feel like that’s also a lie. Once again, you’re left wondering.

The silence between you stretches as you continue to not quite look at each other, until you finally clear your throat, nodding at the front door. "I’m getting coffee, do you want something?"

Honestly, it’s just an excuse as to why you need to leave before he notices something off again somehow, but Bucky tilts his head in amusement.

"Didn’t you just get some this morning?"

"So? I like coffee."

"Really. I never knew."

"Screw you."

You can hear him huff behind you, but thankfully the door falls shut before you can do anything stupid. Like turning around to face him, for example.

You miss his eyes.

Why won’t you look at me?

When the elevator doors open, you almost yelp into your delivery guy’s face. He stumbles a half-step backwards, somehow managing to keep a hold of the boxes precariously balanced on his arm while he’s reading something on his phone.

"Oh my god," he lets out, "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I was just …"

"Early." You blink.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing," you say, frowning only a little. "Wait, let me get that."

You quickly sign for the delivery and open the door with your keycard, holding it open for him. You’re not exactly afraid of burglars these days, and besides; you know this guy by now.

"If you could just go straight ahead and to the right, that’s where the kitchen is."

"Sure thing," he shrugs. "Thanks—"

His mouth snaps shut and he blushes a little as if he wanted to say something else but thought better of it.

You’ve introduced him to Sam enough times you know he’s going to be fine, so you just smile and wave him in.

When you step out on the street, you instinctually look up at the sky. It’s outrageously blue, blatantly perfect for an endless Friday, and even when you squint, you can’t make out any irregularities.

It’s a tiny relief, but a relief nontheless.

Lucy is leaning against the wall just out of sight of the storefront, an unlit cigarette dangling between her lips as she rummages through her pockets. Her colorful makeup has begun to melt off in the sweltering heat, making the red-white-and-blue stars on her cheeks bleed into each other to look somewhat purplish.

"Are you off or on break?" you call over.

She lifts her head, the glare vanishing when she recognizes you. "Counting the seconds," she says. "Don’t you have anything better to do?"

You sidestep a couple of pedestrians hurrying to cross the street and join her. "Not really."

"I hate you." She finally fishes a lighter out of her back pocket, sighing contentedly as she takes her first drag. "I swear, this day just won’t pass."

Fine. Maybe your chuckle is a little shrill. "I’m sorry."

Lucy waves you off with a gesture crude enough to make a young dad with a stroller send the two of you a dirty look. "You without your shadow today?" she asks, inspecting her nails.

You blink. "My shadow."

"You know. Your friend who’s been in here eight thousand times and still gets confused when he orders." A cloud of smoke vanishes into thin air. "Kind of the lingering type, isn’t he?"

"He’s old," you say, because for some reason nothing else comes to mind.

"Not that old."

"No," you agree, "not that old."

For a moment, you’re afraid she’s going to ask you to pass her number along to him, and you’re already scrambling to find an answer somewhere in the depths of your brain, coming up empty. That’s the problem with being able to unhave entire conversations; you don’t usually really have to deal with reactions if you don’t want to.

Without your powers, though, you’re stuck, and it’s making you wish you hadn’t come here at all.

Instead of any of that, she pulls a flyer out of her other pocket. "Sorin and Cass are doing a gig in Brooklyn next week, do you wanna come with? They’re still terrible, but they got a new bassist who seems alright."

You take the flyer, staring at it. "I didn’t know they’re in a band," you admit.

The truth is, you’ve never paid that much close attention to the people you work with. Maybe that’s been a mistake.

Lucy shrugs. "You’re always doing your own thing." It stings, even though you’re pretty sure she doesn’t mean for it to. "It’d be fun if you came, though."

"I’ll think about it," you say, and your smile is a little unsure, but genuine.

So is hers.

"If you don’t want to hang with us all night, you can bring some friends, too." Her emphasis hangs in the air between you like a dare.

You snort. "I feel like this isn’t quite their scene."

"You feel like or you know?"

"Isn’t that the same thing?"

"No." She puts her cigarette out on the wall behind her. "Knowledge is based on experience. On memories. Your feelings don’t sit in your head. And so they don’t make sense and they’re not necessarily true." She winks.

"You’re weirdly smart," you say, shaking your head.

"I know. It’s a curse." Lucy sighs. "Anyway, think about it. I gotta get back to hell."

"You know," you say with a grin, "I could really do with a frappuccino right about now."

"You know what you could do?" she answers in her sweetest customer service voice, pointing you down the street. "Get in a trash can."

Damnit. You might actually grow to like Lucy.

She taps her fingers against her temple and then shuffles back inside, a hot rush of air blowing out of the AC as the door opens. You fold the flyer up to fit into your back pocket, hoping you’ll make it to that concert one day, and then you walk on, aimless again for the moment.

***

Time passes while it’s standing still.

The problem is, at least for the moment, that by all appearances you’ve reverted back to square one. Going through your day as though any of this is even remotely normal, counting the hours and minutes to reenter the astral plane and feel some semblance of control again.

It’s been nice, really, if you’re ignoring the constant underlying feeling of dread.

Which you’re getting better at.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

Rinse and repeat.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

Even on days when you’re sure you’re making progress with your powers, every reset makes it just a little harder to keep dragging yourself onwards.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

"You look like shit."

Your head rolls to the side slowly, allowing yourself a glance while Bucky is still distracted with his arm. Concentration makes his brows knit, and something warm spreads in your chest.

"I’m so tired," you say, voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t look at you, but you’re grateful for it for once. Your eyes are stinging a little.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Yes. Yes. Yes.

"Not particularly."

"Do you want to talk about something else?"

You almost smile. "Like what?"

Bucky shrugs with one shoulder. "Like the fact that you just planted Sam into the mat head-first and yet made a face like you killed a puppy?"

Sometimes you wonder how he still manages to slip in without you noticing, no matter how many times he does it.

"Did I?"

"Did you kill a puppy? I’d hope not."

Your body’s been getting stronger, anticipating Sam’s every move. At this point, it’s not so much training as it is an exercise in muscle memory; but how would he know that?

It still isn’t enough. It’s never enough.

You pitiful, selfish, useless bastard.

"You’re doing it again," Bucky says and you blink.

"Doing what?"

"I don’t know, but I don’t like it."

Something inside you twinges uncomfortably and you wrap your arms around your knees, pulling them into your chest. "That might just be me, period."

Bucky huffs. "Take the towel on the right," he says. "I already used the other one."

So you do.

And then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and then you wake up with blah, blah, blah.

"I can’t do this anymore."

Strange watches you, but you don’t get up from where you’re lying, blankly staring at the ceiling, feeling like your chest is about to explode.

You don’t want to feel like something is tearing you apart every single time, even though you know it’s not permanent. There’s always the tiniest glimmer of hope that this will all be over soon.

Or maybe it’s dread.

"Maybe you can’t," Strange answers.

You blink, sitting upright. "What?"

"Maybe you are actually incapable of cleaning up your own mess. You’ve never had any training before, after all. Maybe you’re too weak."

Useless. Not good enough. Waste of time.

"If this is reverse psychology, it’s not working," you say through gritted teeth, pressing your eyes shut so tightly they don’t burn anymore.

Strange ignores you. "Maybe you’re going to be stuck in this loop forever. If that’s the case, there’s no point to keep trying either. Maybe we should just call it a day."

You can feel your breaths coming in shorter.

"Maybe you’re just going to keep failing to save anyone for the rest of your life."

"Stop it!"

An explosion of power goes through your body, bouncing off the walls and bathing the room in a ghostly green light. You cough and curl into yourself as you watch it billow, still echoing the words back at you, "too weak", "stuck in this loop forever". Your bones are heavy with exhaustion.

Strange crouches down next to you and a cup of fragrant tea draws itself up to the side of your face.

"You’re drawing the bulk of your power from pain. From a desire to fix things that you think you alone are responsible for when the truth is that each and every one of us is constantly creating reality."

"Fuck you," you mumble. When you sit up, your head is still swimming.

"You cannot keep this up."

"If I’m such a lost case, then why do you bother?"

"I’m trying to tell you that you’re not." He points at the walls, still covered by that greenish fog. "This is the strongest display of your powers I’ve seen from you yet, and it only happened because you were lashing out. Pain is not a sustainable source of energy. Imagine what you could do if you could be in control."

Do as I tell you.

"There’s no way to control my powers on a larger scale. It’s impossible."

"You keep telling me that, and yet you keep coming back. Why?"

You push yourself up to your elbows, wiping at your face. "Because I have to hope, right?"

"And there it is."

You take a sip of your tea and some feeling returns to your translucent fingers. Strange’s cloak draws itself around your shoulders.

The wizard himself stays quiet for another minute or two, before he asks, "Why do you think I’m talking to you right now? Helping you, even, nevermind your constant whining and your insistence that this won’t work, after you’ve spent your whole life running away from anything resembling actual responsibilities."

"I didn’t—"

"Answer the question."

"Because I created a time loop?" you guess.

"But you already know that this loop is just one point on the timeline. A single day, repeated endlessly, but going exactly like it was always supposed to, once resolved. So, without the time stone and my privileges as the Sorcerer Supreme, and with your protections still in place, how would I have found you?"

He knew exactly where and when to look for you. But he’s right, that shouldn’t even have been possible unless …

"I came to you," you realize. "Or, I will, once I get out of this." The relief that washes over you makes you want to sob. "So there is a way out?"

"Of course there is," he says, surprisingly gently. "Time isn’t supposed to get stuck."

You sit with that for a minute, hiding your face in your hands as Strange stays silent. Finally, you take a deep breath and look at him again with newly sharp focus.

"So why don’t you just tell me how to do it?"

He raises an eyebrow. "You know that’s not how it works."

"Yes. It is. It’s literally what I do all the time."

"What you do is leaving realities you don’t like by turning backwards."

"That’s not true."

"Just because your motivations aren’t entirely selfish doesn’t mean you’re right."

You’re so damn exhausted. The frustration of this whole thing is really starting to scratch at your sanity, and there’s an ache in your chest as you stare at your own sleeping face, biting the inside of your cheek, thinking.

Strange snaps his fingers to get your attention back.

"I’m not a mind reader," he says. "Out with it."

"I want to see him," you say, getting up. The cloak flaps around you in a very satisfying way. "Bucky. It’s early this morning, right? Just before the loop starts again. That means he’s upstairs."

"And what’s seeing him going to do?"

You ignore him and walk towards the door, reaching for the handle. Your hand goes right through it. You try it several more times, to no avail.

"Heaven help me," Strange mutters behind you.

Shutting your eyes, you take a deep breath. The circle of green tingles around your wrist.

Then, you walk through the closed door.

You fully expect to crash into the wood head first, but instead you feel the door moving through your noncorporeal form, and then you’re standing on the other side.

With a startled hum, you turn left, not waiting to see if you’re being followed.

You only hesitate in front of Bucky’s bedroom door. You’ve never actually been inside his room since he’s moved in; well, apart from that time he patched up your feet and you woke up in the astral plane for the first time. It feels odd to consider entering without him actually being aware of it.

Then again, there’s quite a few things at this point that he’s unaware of.

Before you can make up your mind, the door swings open just a little, and you automatically take a step back. Alpine sleepily slinks through the gap and trots off in the direction you came from, probably to sit in the kitchen and mope until FRIDAY activates the food dispenser again. On the stairs, she passes Strange who raises an eyebrow at you.

"Changed your mind?"

You glance into the room.

At first, you can’t find him. The bedding looks untouched, and there’s a brief flurry of panic that makes you step inside before you can keep questioning yourself.

Bucky is lying on the floor next to the bed, his hands balled tightly into an old throw blanket. It’s haphazardly draped across his torso, like he’s been trying to wriggle free during the night. He grimaces in his sleep.

Try the floor.

You can’t help but wonder when he’s last tried the bed.

"Can he hear us?" you ask quietly, not needing to look over your shoulder as you sink to the floor next to Bucky.

"No," Strange says. "Not until you put in a lot more work."

"Would he remember if I did?"

"I don’t know."

You do look back at him, then. "You know, considering your position you don’t know a whole lot of things."

You concentrate on your own hand until you’re starting to feel cool metal underneath your fingertips, ignoring the throbbing of your head. Carefully, you touch the crease between his brows, smoothing it out tenderly.

Bucky sighs a little in his sleep, but doesn’t stir. Doesn’t stop quietly murmuring in his dreams.

"You feel better?" Strange asks.

"Not really." You’ve already reached out to him without it having any repercussions too many times. "But that wasn’t the point."

"What was?"

"Just …"

Comfort. He brings you comfort, even when he doesn’t know it. It’s the same reason you keep waiting for him to arrive in the gym in the mornings, even though you could probably hurry up and miss him.

Even if the loop never ends, it’s still good to see that it’s bringing him back like it’s supposed to.

How incredibly selfish, you think as you continue looking at Bucky and letting a quiet, hesitant wash of calm come over you.

And then, all of a sudden, his eyes open.

You flinch backwards, but even though you’re almost face to face, he seems to stare right through you, his breaths heavy.

"Did I do something?" you say quietly.

"No," Strange answers. "This is just when he wakes up."

You watch as Bucky drags a hand over his face and then gets up with a determined tick in his jaw, grabbing a notebook from the nightstand. He scribbles something down, hastily, like it’s threatening to get away from him if he doesn’t hurry. You don’t have to read it to know it has something to do with what he’s seen in his sleep.

When the words stop flowing, he sits on the edge of the bed for a minute longer, but the tension doesn’t leave his shoulders. Finally, he rolls his left arm a few times before pulling on a shirt and his running shoes.

He always goes for a run in the morning. You’ve made fun of him for it before, but you hadn’t put together that while Strange was trying to get you to clear your own head through sitting still, Bucky might be doing the exact opposite to get the same result.

The door clicks shut.

"Are we done with the spying, then?" Strange says.

"No need to get weird about it," you mumble and take his outstretched hand.

***

Something changes once you know that your situation actually has an end date, even though Strange either cannot or will not tell you how many more loops you’re going to have to go through until then. Even so, there’s a new assurance to your every step again, a determination grown from the knowledge that all this isn’t for nothing. That there is an out.

You can cling to that.

"What would you do if you were stuck in a time loop?" you ask, letting your legs dangle over the ledge of the roof.

"Ew, no," Lucy replies, shaking the few remaining ice cubes in her cup emphatically. "My shift was long enough as is, and I’ve been looking forward to my Sunday off all week."

"Fair point," you concede.

It’s early afternoon then, and you’ve found a quiet spot on the top of the Tower. If Lucy was at all confused why you’d shown up at the store right when she clocked out and asked her to hang out, she’s not showing it. Over the past couple of loops, you’ve learned that she really likes to go with the flow, and you appreciate that.

"If it’s not today, though," she continues, like she’s thinking aloud. "Imagine the books you could read. You could try out all that stuff that you say you want to do, and then you never have the time to actually do them."

It’s a good thought, but a lack of time has never really been an issue for you. "Nothing you do would really stick, though."

She squints against the sun. "You realize that’s a pro, right? No consequences whatsoever. I could cut my bangs again and they’d be gone the next day."

"You used to have bangs?"

"Never, and I’m willing to state that in a court of law."

You smile and lean back on your elbows. "If something good happened, that’d be gone, too, though. You don’t get to keep that, either."

"Yeah," Lucy says thoughtfully. "I’d still remember it though, right? It still happened. I could make it happen again."

"Maybe." Your thumb scratches the empty space on your pinkie. Even though you’ve turned your entire bathroom upside down, your ring is still gone, like it just up and disappeared from this reality. You can’t help but wonder if that rift in the sky from a few todays ago has anything to do with that.

"What about you?"

"Hm?"

Lucy takes another slurping sip from her almost empty cup. "What would you do in a time loop?"

You can’t help but laugh. "I’d try to keep making the good things happen, I guess."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

It is.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" someone shouts behind you. "It’s in the fricking nineties today and you’re baking?"

"Technically, we are baking," you say, nodding at Lucy and leaning back further so you can look at Sam upside down. "And we’re baking for you."

"Hi, cap," Lucy says, pulling her sunglasses off.

"Hey." Sam crosses his arms and fixes you with a very cap-like glare. "Why are you baking for me."

"Y/N said it’s for your birthday."

"My—" He cuts himself off, rubbing his temples. "My birthday’s in September."

"Whoops," you say, your grin just believable enough. "My bad, cap."

"You’re not funny," Sam says, "I hope you know that."

You know.

Of course, today isn’t actually his birthday, not even if time were allowed to pass normally. It is day forty-fucking-nine of the loop, though, which makes it your fiftieth time living through this crap and frankly, you all deserve some damn pie.

It’s not going to make a difference in the long run, of course, and yet you can’t help but feel like keeping count of those little markers of time helps to hold your head above water. Making the good things happen, even if they don’t change a thing and no one but you is going to remember.

So you simply say, "It’s turtle pie," because you know that it’s Sam’s favorite. "Hey, what’s the time?"

"Oh, it better be," he says, holding his phone up for you to read and then marching out of your field of vision.

Sadly, you’re just about a minute early.

"He could’ve stayed," Lucy says when you let out a frustrated huff.

"He has that thing at the Garden," you tell her distractedly, taking a mental note to stall Sam a little longer next time.

"There you are."

You flinch at the sound of Bucky’s voice, barely daring to move your head when he sits next to you, his back to the brink.

He never comes up here. That’s the whole point.

"Hi?" you say carefully, and a grin tugs at his mouth.

"Not you," he says, nodding to the ground in front of him.

You turn around fully to find Alpine taking a nap just a few feet behind you, her snowy tail wrapped around a flower pot.

You let out a relieved breath and ignore the small sting in your chest. Of course he’s not up here because of you. Why would he be?

"Gee, thanks," you murmur, quietly shifting around so your hands are hidden underneath your legs. "You sure know how to charm the ladies."

You glance back at Lucy, but she’s looking at her phone, her eyes once again indecipherable behind the large sunglasses.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Think you could handle my charm, Y/L/N?"

He might has well have doused you in a bucket of ice water. You’re suddenly very aware of every single cell in your body, and you don’t like the challenge sparkling in his eyes.

So you do what you always do and you block it out. Dismiss and distract.

"Does Alpine seem weird to you?"

He tilts his head, his jaw tight. "Weird how?"

"I don’t know," you say, staring at her. "She’s just been acting … odd, lately. Today, I mean."

And following you around in a way you’re pretty sure she’s never done before. Not before the loop, at least.

Bucky sighs. "Did you make her scratch you again? Because I’ve told you before that I’m not getting rid of her for enforcing her boundaries."

"First of all, I never make her scratch me, she does that well enough on her own."

"That’s victim blaming," Lucy says without looking up. Bucky snorts and you almost roll your eyes.

"Second of all, she’s up to something. I know it."

"Oh, yes," Bucky says dryly just as Alpine makes a small noise in her dreams, her nose twitching. "That’s the embodiment of evil right there."

"I don’t trust her," you mutter.

"And yet the cat’s the weird one."

"I hate you," you mumble, standing up. "I’m gonna go check on the pie."

"There’s pie?" Bucky says.

"Not for you!"

You turn at the door to see Lucy leaning in to show Bucky something on her phone; the frown has disappeared from his face, his shoulders relaxed. If he’d pull off his glove right now, it’d almost be like sitting in a park.

That’s good, you tell yourself as the door slams shut behind you with a bit too much gusto. Reminds you that there’s nothing special about you in particular, which is much needed, really.

Can’t wait to punch that one out of your system later.

Again and again and again and a—

"Whoa, whoa, you alright?"

You blink. Riff slumps to the ground in front of you, body limp.

Bucky stares at you in concern, his hand still on your shoulder. His lip has split open and there’s the usual bruise already forming on his cheekbone. You can’t help it. Your gaze is drawn down, your breathing shallow.

You screw your eyes shut to snap yourself out of it, but when you open them again, Bucky hasn’t moved an inch.

"Never better," you whisper, and for a split second, you almost believe it yourself.

Liar, liar, liar.

***

At least, you suppose, reality seems considerably less broken these days. No more cracks in the sky.

You get your wake-up call when you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY …

"… FRIDAY?" you say into the silence of your room, your heart pounding wildly. This cannot be happening. Not now.

Not yet.

He got shot again yesterday.

A pleasant jingling sound rings out. "Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N."

You look at the clock on the wall. Ten to eight, just like every morning. "What day is it?"

"Today is Friday, July 4th."

You can taste bile in your mouth despite your relief. There’s an impatient thrum to the symbols around your wrist, like a noose that’s tightening.

What did you expect?

"Rise and shine, McFly! Time to get your ass kicked!"

"Didn’t you set FRIDAY to wake me?" you ask Sam as you’re climbing the stairs, nerves on edge.

He looks at you weirdly. "I did. You’re up, aren’t you?"

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Didn’t sleep well."

That much, at least, is still true. Full nights of sleep are a long distant memory from before constant back-to-back repetitions. The only time your body shuts off is when you manage to sleep for a little bit in between your astral visits and the mission call.

"I hope you don’t think that’s an excuse," Sam says, bumping your shoulder, and you manage a tired grin.

"You wish."

Today, you let him win, even though your ankle makes an odd crack when you land on the mat. You’ll take care of it later.

"You look like shit."

Grief and relief, you’ve learned, both taste like salt and iron, but the latter is so much easier to swallow.

"That makes two of us," you say, sitting up slowly. "How was your run?"

"Good," Bucky says, putting the cloth away and stretching his fingers out. They catch a ray of sunlight. "What’s wrong with you?"

Not this again.

"Later, okay?" you answer, because that’s not a lie. "Let’s just … not, right now?"

"Alright," he says.

And, oh, you want to tell him again. Because he doesn’t press it. Because you miss having someone to share things with. Because you miss telling him the whole truth. Because you’re scared, and tired, and sick of losing him.

But those are egotistic thoughts, and so you keep them all to yourself and take the towel on the right.

There’s one good thing about this today. You make it to the living room just in time to finally catch a glimpse of Sam’s phone right when it pings with Torres’ message.

I can check it out on Monday if you’d like.

That’s it. No urgency, weirdly proper spelling, not even an exclamation mark.

In other words, you’re not sure what you expected but you’re no closer to answers than before.

"What does it matter?" Strange sighs when you tell him all of this with a frown.

"It matters," you reply, "because if we hadn’t gone on the mission, Bucky wouldn’t have died that first time and none of this would’ve happened."

"So what?" he says. "It’s already done."

"But if I could prevent it—"

"It already happened."

"I can make it not happen."

"You and what powers?" Strange says sharply. "Even if you did that, it wouldn’t stop the loop."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you’ve already seen first-hand that it’s bound to you and your powers, not to whatever you do or don’t do during the day. Karma is a fairy tale for those who don’t want to take responsibility for their actions."

"Do you really still think this is me not taking responsibility?" There’s a green flare that goes through you, hot and seething and making goosebumps crawl down your arms.

Strange smiles at the sight. "Let’s find out."

He extends his arms and slowly opens his fists until orange symbols dance across his shaky fingers. The band around your wrist prickles at the weight of his magic flooding the air.

Strange’s cloak nudges you towards the center of the room and your heart gives a heavy thud. "What, right now?"

"Would you prefer being stuck for a couple weeks more?"

"Of course not it’s just—I don’t feel ready."

"No one ever feels ready until they try."

And maybe it’s because it reminds you of something Steve once said, but it makes you step up, falling into the stance you’ve practiced over and over again. You breathe in deeply and close your eyes.

The pull comes easier now. Your powers have just been resting, nestled somewhere deep inside your bones like glowing embers, waiting for you to call upon them.

When you look at your open palm, the green wisps of your powers have curled up to the size of a ping-pong ball. You take another steadying breath and let it glide to the tips of your fingers, carefully letting it balance itself out for a second before moving your other hand.

"Good," you can hear Strange say quietly.

Slowly, carefully, you let the threads untangle until they’re just about to touch the green band circling around your wrist. You can feel the electric tingle of it, the soft beat of each passing second contained within, and you push past it.

You’ve done this before, so you’re not surprised when you feel the energy drain from your body almost immediately. Up until now, though, it’s just been trial and error, not expecting anything to happen. This time, you have Strange’s magic feeding some of his strength into you as well, and so instead of hesitating, you press on, your heartbeat speeding up.

The band around your wrist does the same.

"Don’t lose your focus." Strange’s voice sounds very far away, almost warped.

Very funny, you might have said, but you’re too busy watching it all unfold.

The whirring inside of your head grows louder as the circlet of time keeps rotating with accelerating speed, faster and faster until your eyes start tearing up and there’s something that looks almost like a crack.

You gasp quietly. At first, you think you might have just imagined it, but then the split starts growing, the symbols growing farther and farther apart as the band itself keeps spinning. Your pulse is beating in your ears. Your wrist feels like it’s being set on fire.

There are voices, then, quiet and fast, like you’re watching a sped up movie, music and noises and chatter and birdsong and a whooshing sound like something flipping right past you. Then, something like distant shots.

I’m getting Bucky out of this, you think as the green band continues rotating until suddenly, there is a shockwave of green light that takes up your entire field of vision.

You close your stinging eyes, keeping your feet firmly planted on the floor as your powers rush through you once more and then, with a shudder, settle down again, exhausted. The glare subsides. Something like a trickle of sweat runs down your noncorporeal neck.

"Did it work?" you ask, your voice rough, not daring to look for yourself. There’s no answer, though. "Doc?"

Slowly, your eyes readjust to the gloomy darkness of your room in the astral realm. The only source of light is the glowing green band continuing to circle around your wrist, the rifts stabilizing again like it’s clicking back into place.

You swear under your breath and turn around to ask what went wrong, but Strange is no longer standing beside you.

You’re all alone.

***

Three, two, one—

"Iced grande extra whip caramel macchia—shit!"

You catch the plastic cup before it drops onto the suit of the business man standing in line in front of you. "Here you go, sir."

He grabs his drink with a grunt and hurries back outside. One of these days, you might ask him why he’s in such a hurry, but it’s not today.

You’ve grown to adore the noise of the pre-noon rush. The cacophany of the whirring machines, the AC and the people is just loud enough to make your head calm down a little. Besides, being alone in a crowd has never been easier than when you know for a fact they are not going to remember you.

The drinks are starting to pile up at the hand-out, and because you feel bad for your colleagues, you start handing them out to people. You’ve been here a lot, after all.

"Tall hazelnut latte for Misty!"

Plus, it helps to keep your mind from wandering back to everything that’s going wrong.

Strange still hasn’t returned.

The astral dimension feels different when you return the day after your experiment, like someone’s been pulling invisible strings to make everything just slightly more disordered and dark.

It’s cold, too. You watch your body shiver in her sleep as you wrap your arms around yourself. The books are still there, shimmering slightly with the magic they contain.

"Doc?" you call out, and the vibrations of this place hum it back at you. There’s no answer.

The book at the top of the pile is still opened to a page, as if it’d just been left a moment ago, and you pick it up. The words glide around like they are looking to jump back into an inkpot, and you have to squint to make out any of them.

Incursion, the section header reads. Result of a contraction in a universe’s timeline. Can cause premature disintegration or collapse of any one reality within the multiverse.

"Just great," you say, slapping the book shut again. "I get it, alright? You can come out now."

But there’s no sound apart from your own heartbeat.

Your noncorporeal head is swimming with pressure as you pass through the closed door and into the hallway. The walls seem larger than usual, the stairs warping ever so slightly underneath your feet so that you can’t look at them for too long without feeling seasick.

Upstairs, the air doesn’t feel quite as heavy. The silence follows you, though, lingering in the grayish morning shadows like the remnants of a nightmare.

Bucky still mumbles in his.

You can’t make out what he is saying, and you wouldn’t have understood the words, anyway, but there’s sweat on his brow again. His fingers are tightly clutching the thin throw blanket like it’s shielding him from whatever he’s seeing in his dreams.

You take a step closer to him, desperate to do something, anything, when you notice movement out of the corner of your eye.

Alpine is perched on top of the bed, complacently tucked into herself on one of the fluffed up white pillows like it’s really her room, not Bucky’s.

And she’s staring right at you.

You take a step to the side, then another. Alpine tilts her head, her large eyes fixed on you. They follow your gestures as you wave your hand.

A quick glance tells you that Bucky is still sleeping. You take a deep breath and conjure up a small dot of bright green light, letting it dance across your fingertips. Alpine uncurls herself in interest, her tail twitching.

"You can see me," you whisper, and the little spec of your power disappears.

The cat meows in disappointment.

Carefully, you move closer to the bed, reaching out your translucent hand until you place it on Alpine’s head.

She rubs against your palm.

You chuckle incredulously, scratching behind her ears. "You little devil."

Alpine seems particularly pleased with herself. She starts purring.

This is simply bizarre, you think as you continue petting her soft fur. You’re expecting a sarcastic comment from behind your shoulder any minute now, but it doesn’t come.

So, you lower yourself down on the floor next to Bucky, the tips of your fingers not quite grazing his arm as you swallow heavily.

And then you wait until he gets up.

It’s possible, you think as you watch him leave and then make yourself wake up too, that Strange is simply messing with you for the hell of it. You don’t like the timing of this, though. Your day still continues on and on and on, like it always does, but it seems just a little too pointed that this would happen right after you had your first hopes of getting out of here in a long time.

It doesn’t help that the reality glitches have decided to return with a vengeance.

Every day is still July 4th. You wake up with a start, you train, you get coffee, you fight over lunch, you take your astral visit, you go on that damn mission. It’s the details that start to get … fuzzy.

In the beginning, every single thing around you was the exact same every single day. Now, though, there are sometimes details that are just wrong. A different mug left on the drying rack. A mess all over the tables in the lab. Weird noises all over the Tower.

You don’t know what to make of any of it, and so in general, you follow Strange’s rule of thumb and simply ignore the things that are wrong one day and then right the next—which, thankfully, is all of them. You just go with it, telling yourself that this is simply reality malfunctioning a little, like a machine that needs oiling.

Weirdly enough, that doesn’t reassure you in the slightest.

But what else can you do?

You lose a few hours here and there, time seemingly speeding up at random sometimes now. One morning, Bucky isn’t in the gym like he usually is, and you work yourself up over it so much you nearly have a panic attack. In the end, you almost crash into him outside of his room, and a rush of reassurance floods through you with such force you can’t even look at him.

That time, Sam is there when Bucky gets shot, and it’s his cry that follows you into the next day. Your hands are clean this time, and somehow that feels worse.

Everyone’s back to their usual stuff again, and that’s that.

Another time, you’ve barely rolled out of bed and into your bathroom—"Rise and shine, McFly!"—when you’re suddenly jolted forwards and you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume. Your stomach feels like it’s still turning, nauseous, as if you’d sat up too fast.

That feeling still leaves a bad taste in your mouth, sticking to the back of your mind like the blood you haven’t even had time to wash off.

The thing that demands most of your attention, though, is the pile of books waiting for you in the astral realm. Since you don’t have any control over the loop itself, you pour all of your energy into trying to understand the theory behind your powers. It’s giving you a constant headache, and it takes a lot longer than you would like to admit, but at least you feel like you’re doing something that’ll last.

Nothing else will.

There’s one last lonely cup sat on the counter next to your own, which signals that the rush is over for now. You can see Lucy wiping her forehead as you wave your goodbye, picking up both drinks on your way out and handing one of them to the guy just hurrying back downstairs.

"Here you go," you say without stopping, glancing at your phone. You haven’t stayed this late before.

"What the—" you hear behind you, just before the doors glide open and you’re greeted by the sound of traffic and a hot breeze of air.

If you’re lucky, you can make it back to your room without anyone seeing you. You’ve moved on to a particularly hefty tome about relativity, and you’d like to—

"Hey! Miss? Hold on a second!"

You look over your shoulder to see the delivery guy has run after you, cup still in his hand. His bike is leaned against a lamp post nearby, his cap dangling off one of the handles.

You found out a couple of weeks ago that he takes his break just after dropping off your order, but you don’t usually make eye contact anymore.

Now, he holds out his cup accusingly. "That’s my drink."

You smile. "Good for you."

"No. No, that’s not—I mean—how did you know it was my drink?"

And because nothing really matters and you really want to go home, you say, "It has your name on it, doesn’t it?"

You expect him to look at you with wide eyes, just like people normally do when you know things you’re not supposed to. His mouth will drop open, speechless, his frown will deepen, and you can wink at him and continue on your way so he can spend the next couple of hours wondering what just happened.

The cup falls out of his hand, but somehow he manages to catch it before it hits the sidewalk. When he looks up at you again, and his expression is unlike anything you’ve seen coming.

"But that’s not …" he says quietly. "Do you remember me?"

And then it’s you who’s speechless, because the shock on Peter Parker’s face is more than you bargained for.

*****

"Honestly, I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this," you said quietly, looking over the rim of your glass at the crowd.

"You complaining?" you heard Sam’s voice say over the little earpiece you were wearing.

"Not at all."

Apparently, people connected to terrorist organizations threw incredibly fancy parties.

You hadn’t felt this glamorous in a while, if ever, dressed up to the nines in a dark green jumpsuit with an incredibly flattering cut that you’d never had a reason to wear before. Despite your initial doubts about this whole thing, you felt great, for the first time in way too long.

"Are you gonna move any time soon?"

Well. Mostly.

At least Barnes cleaned up nice, you supposed; it almost made up for his grouchy demeanor.

With a sigh, you downed the rest of your drink and got back to work. You let the crowd swallow you up, seemingly on your way to the restrooms, and then you stopped it all to slip upstairs unnoticed by prying eyes and cameras.

You didn’t hold it for very long; you had to rattle some doors, after all, and despite your espresso martini, it was still hard to tell if you could manage several redos back to back. After all, you’d only been back in the game for a couple of weeks.

It took you a few tries to find the right office, and locating the files was comparatively easy with what you already had access to. There it was, proof that ULTIMATUM had managed to secure most of the Flag Smashers’ previous supporters as well as some high brow weapon dealers.

While you copied everything onto a flashdrive, your eyes caught one of the designs. You frowned.

Even though you couldn’t pinpoint what it was, exactly, something about it seemed just slightly too highbrow for an organization of the international bad egg committee that was supposedly still mostly underground. Your gaze started drifting through the rest of the office, noting the usual boring books and glass awards in the bookshelves on the far wall. You pulled open one of the desk drawers.

"You almost done in here?"

"Fuck!" You slammed the drawer shut again, getting your pinkie stuck in the process. "Damnit, where did you come from?"

Bucky pointed over his shoulder.

"Fuck me," you murmured, your eyes stinging at the pain.

Bucky looked nonplussed. "Can’t you just undo it?"

"Great input, thank you." The flashdrive beeped softly and you shut everything down again. At least you were definitely sober now. "What are you, anyway, my babysitter?"

"Wouldn’t have to be if you could check in on time," he answered, checking the corridors, then nodding for you to follow.

"Time’s a social construct," you murmured, but followed him, the flashdrive hidden in your fist.

You didn’t even make it to the staircase.

"Didn’t I tell you?" a voice said right before several triggers clicked and you both froze. "I knew I’d recognized that arm. And who do you have with you here, Winter Soldier?"

No one, you thought, and then you yanked time backwards so forcefully you stumbled into the desk, your heart still racing. The copy sat at 57%.

You felt almost seasick with the rewind, but there wasn’t any time. "Keep going upstairs," you said into your earpiece.

"What?" Bucky said.

"I’m fine. Don’t come get me. Just keep going," you gritted through your teeth, trying to calm your breaths. 70%.

"Exit plan C, then," Sam said.

Bucky didn’t answer. You looked at your hands. There was a slight tremor to them, but nothing too bad. If you could get the nausea under control, you could probably make it past the cameras one more time.

You should’ve eaten more.

As soon as the flashdrive was done, you ripped it out and forced everything to a halt again. Your palms were sweaty as you hurried out of the office and in the direction of the staircase, your lungs burning. This didn’t feel like a good sign.

You stumbled over your damn heels and the noise returned for that moment you lost your concentration.

Not good enough.

Sweat pearled on your forehead as you and the universe held your breath again. You could feel your hold slipping with every second that wasn’t allowed to pass. Time was impatient with you.

A small crowd had assembled at the bottom of the stairs. As you closed in on them, you felt a jolt go through you and suddenly found yourself surrounded by people as time attempted to right itself again. Your nails dug into the skin of your palm so hard you could feel yourself draw blood.

It went quiet again and you moved through them, almost blindly. Everything seemed to be spinning.

Behind your shoulder, you could hear several people talking, interrupted only by the world stopping around them every now and then.

"—d’you—see that—"

"—could’ve—sworn there—”

And with time stumbling and flailing around in confusion, you made it out of the building and into the waiting cab.

chapter seven

thank you for reading!! you can follow my library blog @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 💚

[butchnavi]

I'm going to fucking kill myself

[anotheruntitledsong]

i did like the hidden palace but (SPOILER if anyone hasn't read it?) i'm genuinely so annoyed at how Arbeely is handled like... I wish i could be sad but i'm just fucking irritated. I was overly invested in him and that's def why but i just feel like they did him dirty

[moonlightdreamzz]

Moments of Praise — Jungwon, Jake, Sunghoon.

bangchan and felix

GENRE. pureeeeee smut. freaky hours. 18+

AUTHORS NOTE. i am ovulating, so either im sorry or you’re welcome :)

Good girls get whatever they want—and you’re the greatest.

jungwon

you love so many things. you love tequila, you love cool sheets, you love the spring—the list goes on and on. but recently, someone asked you what do you love most? in the moment, you couldn’t make a decision because how could you choose? but right now, as jungwon’s hands are gripped around your neck—not tight enough to hurt you, but strong enough to remind you he owns you, and he’s stroking in and out of you—refusing the break eye contact not even for a second, you realize this is what you love most in this world.

he’s always so damn cocky when he’s fucking you, because he knows how amazing he makes you feel, everytime. he knows what you want—but he cares more about what you need. and you earned the di*k you’re getting right now.

he’s so drunk off your p*ssy, but that’ll never wipe the sly smirk off his face. all this, because you were so patient all day, and the cherry on top was you helping an elderly woman carry her groceries to her car. because that’s the kind of boyfriend you have—one that got so turned on at you being good.

you can’t form a proper sentence. that’s how good it feels. and he’s loving every second of it. you’re trying so hard, and all he can do is mock you—mimicking every expression you make to verbally tell him thank you. and he’s going exactly how you love it,—love him. slow and steady.

“i know baby, i know.” he utters. “daddy is fucking you so good, isn’t he? mhm.” a whimper slips out of his pretty lips, which only adds onto your incoming orgasm.

“baby—“ you finally manage to get our “why do you—always—fuck me so goooood. oh my—“ you wanted so badly to finish, but he clearly likes you like this. slutted out and unable to focus. only able to feel him and everything he’s doing to you. his free hand places itself on your clit, rubbing gentle circles around it. as if the pleasure you were already feeling wasn’t good enough for jungwon.

“good girls, deserve good dick. and you, baby?” he chuckles before biting his lip and looking at you as if your hole is the best thing since sliced bread, “you’re such a good fucking good girl. so fucking patient. so kind. this pussy is everything I’ve ever wanted in life. you’re so fucking wet. so fucking good—ah.”

“its too good, daddy. i can’t take it. i can’t.” you’re practically hyperventilating. you didn’t know anything could feel this good. you’re seeing stars and he’s living for it.

“who can’t take it? hm? you baby? because my girl can do anything she puts her mind to. so take this fucking dick.”

are his last words before you both cum all over the each-other.

jake

his members lay asleep, their faces—as well as his and yours glowing from the tv that’s still playing the movie jungwon chose earlier. to the naked eye, you and jake look like two people utterly in love, making deep eye contact because you’re so infatuated with each other. this isn’t wrong, but it also isn’t the reason why the two of you are staring at eachother in the dark.

the real reason, is because jake’s hands are buried deep in your panties, and he’s determined to make you cum in your jeans, infront of everyone. you knew at some point tonight he’d sneak you away to be inside you, but like this? but at the same time, you’d be lying if you said this isn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever done. and you weren’t rude. you were raised to always be grateful for gifts.

he’s so fucking focused. and he’s doing so good. your eyes can’t figure out if they want to be open or closed and you wish you could grind in his hand, but that would wake somebody up. there’s a part of you that wants to stop him because of the way your body reacts when you or**sm, but as always, your boyfriend is two steps ahead of you.

“i need you to.” he utters, nothing short of desperation resting on his eyes. “I won’t stop until you do.”

all you can do is nod, because you’re so close. that doesn’t stop his mouth from running.

“yeah.” he assures you—his aussie accent thick. “you’re so wet, baby. and that makes me so happy.” he places your hand on his length, that is rock solid. “you like the fact that they can see you if they wanted, don’t you? i know i do.” “can’t wait to make you lick it off my fingers.” “wake em up baby. wake em up baby.” he grunts, resting his forehead on yours but eyes refusing to disconnect. you practically burst all over his fingers, your body is shaking, and you can’t help but hit his arm over and over because fuck you, jake. now.

sunghoon

sunghoon is so full of himself. he does what he wants, when he wants, and if the world isn’t revolving around him? then the world must’ve vanished. and he’s no different right now—arms tucked cockily behind his head while you bounce up and down on his length. the only thing he’s wearing is a smug look on his face, as if to say—of course the second I called, you answered. and of course, the minute I told you to strip and cum all over me, you went straight to work. because I own you and everyone else.

“i fucking hate you.” you moan loudly. but you don’t. and he knows you don’t too. that’s why all he does he chuckle in a seductive tone before whispering, “i love you too, baby.”

when he confesses his love for you, whether it’s real love behind the words or not, it always puts you in a mode. like you have to show him that if he doesn’t, he’s about to. “you love me?” you whisper, your pleading eyes turning into something much more devious. your bouncing turns for his pleasure and his eyes widen in disbelief of how amazing you feel and look right now.

“mhm.” he nods aggressively. you increase your speed and the intensity of each movement.

“you fucking love me?” you question again—laughing at him now.

it was like he was losing consciousness the way his eyes couldn’t hold still but his body was frozen from the pleasure. “yesss—oh, baby. ugh.”

“tell me why you love me.” you demand.

“becau—because you’re so pretty. and you always make daddy feel so good! your pu**y—baby please. mmm always so wet and—tight. make me cum please please please. i love you so much. please I’ll do anything for it please don’t stop!” he squeals out, before shooting his seed inside you.

[biblicallyaccuratecrow]

isat thoughts: stupid rotten adults isn't talked about enough

y'all can we talk for a minute about stupid rotten adults event because dear god i have thoughts

[tw for talk of death and suicidal ideation]

[woe, spoilers be upon ye!]

it's honestly one of the more tragic party interactions in my opinion, purely because in this case... siffrin was trying to do the right thing, or at least what they thought was right. they tried to use touch to comfort them, something that they had heard would help, and had it rebuked. Which isn't bonnie's fault, really. they're a kid going through something that a kid should never have to go through. we don't acknowledge enough how fucked up it is for bonnie to be with the party on their journey, even if it leads to them bonding with the group. so it's not surprising that it could come out like this at an age when kids may not have the words or emotional intelligence to express how they're feeling (lord knows some adults never learn either)

but then.

they hit you with this:

and i remember just full stop going "holy fuck bonnie" when this happened. because holy shit, in the context of everything that siffirn is going through, especially if you already had the dagger interaction... they have. they have done that. over and over again, they've died. This isn't directed at isabeau, who was the one to bring it up in the first place, or mirabelle and odile who answer, it's directed to Siffrin, who lost their eye trying to save them, and who could have died for bonnie but didn't. Bonnie doesn't want to lose any of them, but they lash out because of the stress, and direct it at the person who they hold guilt over.

But from a Siffrin POV... it's similar to the time travel joke with isa. it's just another reminder of the ways in which they've failed, and another nail in the coffin of their misgivings regarding what the party thinks about them. All of the things bonnie says here- that siffrin should die, that nobody cares what happens to them, that they are hated- these are all things echoed in act 5 by siffrin.

so i just have to wonder... how much of this conversation stuck with Siffrin? they can resolve it by completing the quest and reassuring bonnie that nothing will happen, if you've done the king quest then you know... something already has happened. And maybe in a way siffrin sees bonnie's anger towards them as a sort of confirmation that it was their fault, and that Bonnie trusted them to keep them all safe, and he failed.

anyways im sick and this probably is rambling and disconnected im goin to take a nap

[verdantlights]

Thoughts/Analysis Part 2 (but its coherent)

OKay so i slept (finally) after staying up since wednesday morning and only getting roughly 5 hours of sleep in total?? until I finally managed to get decent hours of sleep last night. anyways. i am still not normal in the slightest over round 7 but i have many more thoughts, am a lot more coherent, and have had it swimming in my head for a while.

TW for mentions of drug use. I'm gonna start with Luka. I've stated in the edit I made of the original post as well as in a few reblogs, but Luka is a victim. A lot of people are Luka haters, and that's valid! I am also, to an extent, a Luka hater.... even if I have a thing for blonde twinks with issues. But his character is also incredibly interesting. If you are familiar with Honkai: Star Rail, then you might understand what I'm saying when I think Luka is a combination of both Sunday AND Robin. He has the trapped bird in a cage mentality from Robin with the need for order and control mentality from Sunday. Order and control referring to winning being the only thing keeping his sanity in check.

Luka, as a human pet, is aware that he is playing a losing game. He needs to win, but he knows that winning Season 50 is not the end. He may have won against Till, but now the segyein are going to put him against Hyuna, considering Hyuna and Mizi were referred to as special guests. The way he looked at Hyuna in that last scene was part of him realizing this. It's the face you pull when you realize something horrible, but you need to keep face/keep your composure.

Their ear pieces are similar to their collars in that they show the emotions of the wearer. We can clearly see Till's earpiece glowing red the entire time (up until Mizi appears), and Luka's is constantly glowing green. Luka was seen in hysterics pretty much the entire time like the one frame where he's holding in his laughter.

Luka was drugged on something that makes him euphoric and lose his sense of control, like weed or cocaine. He found fucking with Till to be the funniest thing ever, but it's not normal for Luka to be so outwardly expressive of his elation. We know he enjoyed fucking with Mizi, even if it let to getting his ass beat, but even then, he wasn't as expressive then as he was with Till. That leads me to believe that he has something in his system to heighten his emotional output as well as some sort of adrenaline drug like what Till was most likely given.

What bugs me is that they don't show us what color his earpiece is as he looks at Hyuna. We see Till's earpiece turn green at Mizi, but does Luka's stay green as he looks at Hyuna? I feel it was orange, but that's just me.

Luka now knows what's about to happen, which is also why Hyuna tries to stop Mizi. Hyuna knew the whole time that if they were to save Till, they'd be walking straight into the trap. Mizi's heart is too kind and she's desperate to save Till.

Thankfully, what Hyuna had gone there for originally seems to be completed. Whatever files she was downloading was complete before she went after Mizi, and I think that's where were gonna see Issac and Dewey again. I think she might've been uploading those files to them so that they can take the lead from there. This leads me to my prediction for the next episode. (ill get to till last, hes my little meow meow and im not normal about him)

I don't think Blink Gone is done. I believe there is a part two to the Finals, and that round 7 wasn't even the final round. I've already stated that the most likely thing to happen next is Luka v Hyuna, but then I also talked about Issac and Dewey.

Hyuna could have gotten her hands on high profile data regarding Alien Stage. She sends the data to Dewssac, and they shut down the stage from the inside, allowing the resistance to come in and do a massive sweep, hopefully before either Hyuna, Luka, or Mizi dies.

Now, as for Mizi. We know Mizi is the main character, and there are people who are saying Till's death boosts her hero arc. Now there are two ways I see this happening, either:

Vivinos keeps up their streak of tragedy and kills off everyone, leaving Mizi isolated entirely.

Or someone (dewssac, hyuna, mizi, maybe even luka) pull through and live to save more people.

If it's the first one, Till is dead dead. If the second, Till has a chance at being alive.

There are many reasons why Till is most likely alive, and as a hopeful feeler... I also am clinging onto the more hopeful ending (the second option). Not just because "Haha guys I need Till to be alive, he's my bias" but also because seeing Mizi completely isolated and forced to fake a smile and perform would absolutely fucking destroy me and I don't think I'd ever be the same after that, honestly. Like that genuinely scares me.

There's the narrative of ALNST and vivimeng's beautiful storytelling. That is my number one hopeful reasoning for Till being alive. If Till dies here, it would be utterly nonsensical and it would ruin the narrative. It would completely void all of Ivan's character, for starters. I was just talking about this with @rockwgooglyeyes and Vant (idt they wanna be tagged here), but Ivan's character is static. He is not dynamic or fluid, but he is extraordinarily complex which makes up for it. He never really had an arc of his own unless you count what happened in his past during/before being bought by Unsha. His death is meant to haunt the narrative, meant to haunt Till. So why would he die, only for Till to die a few hours later? It would completely ruin what he was meant for and it would be so unsatisfying and bitter.

However, there's also the thematics of ALNST. Rock called out @pwippy for this already, but I'm gonna call them out too because fuck you plip (/j i love you plipster). Rock put it really well in these two excerpts I took from his post:

"Alien Stage is a universe full of suffering and pain for humans, forced to perform until they literally die on stage, all for the entertainment of the audience. It's not even meant as a way of exerting control or oppressing them, though it serves that purpose, because why would the seygein bother to oppress something that can't even fight back? Why go to the trouble of controlling something that is just a pet, whose cries are the fuel for a new age?"

Once again mentioning the Hunger Games because I genuinely can't help myself I love THG way too much, but that's the key difference between ALNST and THG: the human pets aren't being forced to do this because of a past rebellion and are being punished by the oppressing government... They're being thrown into this for fun. Full credit to @alien-til-i-stage who said this as a joke, but it is really fucking real, but the segyein bringing their human pets to watch ALNST in the audience are like people bringing dogs to a dog fight in real life. And that, I fear, puts into perspective as to just how much of a pet the humans are to the segyein. They are only there for entertainment. The resistance is mostly a thorn in their side as of right now (dewey and issac better change that next episode or istg) and killing these humans is simply just fun for them. They know humans can be hostile, just like dogs, but they tame them and make them docile and obedient, only to make them kill each other in the end, even if it's through a singing competition rather than an all out teeth and claws brawl. (except for round 5, that doesnt count)

"In this world of pain and suffering, perhaps death is a mercy. If Till is truly dead, then he no longer a tool for his oppressors, he is free of their control. For Ivan and Sua both of their deaths were mercies to them- Ivan was able to die for the one he loved, as was Sua, and neither of them were forced to live in a world without their beloved."

(thank you rock i love you pookie snookie)

He also mentions that it's not in character for Till to die, which I completely agree with. Till's persona is that of someone who wants to win, but not in the same way Luka needs to win. Till wants to win to live and survive with those he loves, he wants to win to beat the system, but considering how dystopian of a world this is, as much as he wants to win and save Mizi, he craves death as a freedom.

That out of the way, another thing that @junebluues actually got me to think about was this:

The bomb has Till's eyes and is crying as it knows it's going to die (assuming it's a sentient alien like Freddie). And the comparison here honestly opened my eyes a little bit and got me thinking.

Was Till a catalyst? Because that was a smoke bomb. I ended up thinking about it for a minute and came up with three possibilities where Till is a bomb/smoke bomb:

Mizi is using Till to hide her feelings

Till is the bomb that sets off a chain of events

Till is used to hide/cover up the real plan for either the segyein or for the resistance

I don't think it's the first one, I feel like it'd be closer to the other two, but any three of those could work. Because Mizi's feelings of despair over her situation can be hidden behind the hope as she reached out for Till. But as the smoke clears (Till dies) she remembers that it was, in fact, a bomb.

EDIT: Also, the lyric that plays during the smoke bomb scene is "No, don't look back now" which also kinda leads me to believe that Till is the start of a chain/domino effect. Once you knock the first domino, you can't go back.

I think someone somewhere had also talked about Till being forced to be used as a catalyst/bait again considering how well it worked here. There's a good chance Urak might have supplied the drugs to Till and also paid out or WAS paid out by another person to use Till as bait. Urak wouldn't want his pet that he is grossly possessive over to die that easily without every ounce of use being wrung out of him,,, something something Till being a Trojan Horse of sorts (thanks rock for that one, too).

EDIT: I also remembered that during the sequence in the song where the audience is singing the chorus and we see Ivan on the screens, is when Till looks like he's about to pass out. What gets me here is the fact that it is quite literally a chorus of vultures. The audience singing the chorus with images of Ivan surrounding him and seeing Luka mimic Ivan made Till realize that he was surrounded and that's when he started losing hope. It's why his reaction to Mizi is so prominent, because it's like she was there to save him from the vultures. The audience singing is my favorite and also least favorite part of the video/song because the feeling of being surrounded and cornered with everyone against you and their voices echoing in your head... really does it for me. I really want to animate this sequence from up close in Till's POV.

Anyways the 4th reason i had for the bomb theory was that Till is smoking hot (sorry). okay im done now i think,,,,,, i might actually come back with more because i think i forgot something... but i cant remember..... i forgor.....

other tags: @shakingparadigm @aakaneeee @ivanttakethis @k9punkout @crustyfloor @apriciticreveries @bluemoonscape @tsukacchako @nottoonedin @paperstarry

side note that i genuinely put more effort into my analyses than i have ever put into any school essay ever

edit: FUCK I WAS SUPPOSED TO ANALYZE THE LYRICS AGAIN GOD DAMNIT i dont feel like doing that anymore ill just do it later maybe

[sugarushwriting]

ot7 vampire enhypen (part five!!!???!)

you listen to eunchae and meet some people with interesting backstories

ni-ki has been following the rules (yay!)

sunghoon, jay and the others are worried about you

next part will be straight nsfw/smut with the four oldest. hehe.

if any names are misspelled i apologize!!

not proof read. please like, comment and reblog but please don’t repost and translate!!!

ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

ni-ki arrived to the house at exactly 4:59 pm, but him being on time was the least of jays and sunghoons worries.

ni-ki entered announcing himself, but got no response. he walked into the living room seeing each of the guys sitting.

jungwon, sunoo and jake on the couch, heeseung on the floor his head between his knees, sunghoon in a chair, jay pacing.

“what’s going on? if yall are worried about me, im here? i didn’t break curfew!” ni-ki stated and looked at jake.

“it’s not you they are worried about.” sunoo answered.

with a joke ni-ki said, “so i could’ve met that girl and yall wouldn’t have cared?”

that got all their attention, jay said, “absolutely not. don’t tempt us, ni-ki.”

“what girl?” jake asked with a smile on his face.

“some girl that kept staring at me and our favorite human.” ni-ki answered, throwing his bag on the floor as he plopped next to jake.

“her name?”

“eunchae.”

“ni-ki,” sunghoon warned but ni-ki nodded in understanding.

“i know i know, stay away from her.” he rolled his eyes. even though he wasn’t. he was intrigued by eunchae and her story.

“they’re worried about her.” jungwon sighed picking at his nails.

“who? eunchae?” ni-ki asked confused.

“no, it’s—,”

“what are we gonna do?” heeseung asked finally speaking up. “i mean we can feed on the bags we have and other humans, but her blood was special, we all know that.”

“not all of us.” ni-ki mumbled but no one either heard him or paid attention to him.

“i will talk to her.” jay stated.

“and look where that got us!” sunghoon argued. “she stormed out yelling fuck you to the both of us!”

“she can’t ignore us forever, sunghoon. she belongs to us. we own her.”

“technically we don’t, not yet anyway.” sunghoon pointed out.

“what was i supposed to do, hold her down and bite her?”

“that would’ve been better than ignoring her questions!”

“she was asking what happens to her and her future! she asked me to change her to a vampire, sunghoon.” jays voice was getting louder. “she had the nerve to say she’d fall in love, get married and have kids with someone that isn’t us.”

“well we can’t have kids.” jake retorted but jay wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

“shut it, sim.” jay snapped.

the guys have never seen jay this way, ever. only sunghoon has seen him like this, over a century ago.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

eunchae had brought you to the house off campus she shared with 5 other girls.

the house was gorgeous, another historic home, with a huge porch and a porch swing. the boys house was more polished while this house seemed more comfy and lived in.

“kura! kazhua!” eunchae yelled.

a brunette came down the stairs holding her ears, “dang eunchae, why so loud?”

“is unnie sakura and kazhua here?”

the brunette nodded, and grabbed a bag you were assuming was hers. “im going to meet jen and chae at the library.”

“okay, bye garam!”

the brunette, garam, left, and two other girls came down the stairs.

“girls, we need to talk to you.” eunchae said with a pout.

in summary, all the girls who lived in this house was a seraphim, or fallen angel living in a human body they died in. you learned sakura, the oldest knew jay in the past, kazhua knew sunghoon.

how?

jay fed from sakura often, and sunghoon kazhua. sakura became a seraphim because of jay. he hurt her so bad when he was done with her. she was in tears running home when she was hit by a horse carriage. kazhua became one after she got hurt by sunghoon. she went to run from him and she fell down a hill hitting her head on a rock. sunghoon panicked and ran off. sakura found her hanging on to life.

although they are seraphim’s and typically they aren’t fallen angels, since them as a group specifically don’t serve god, they are considered fallen angels. they want to spread love and light, but can also bring chaos to others.

basically they bring chaos to those who have wronged others, but they have to be careful about it. it could be as simple as someone dropping their food or coffee after paying or as extreme as someone getting murdered.

jay and sunghoon made them each feel special, but in the end, just disappointed them. the icing on the cake was the girls had photos. they mentioned the boys probably got rid of any evidence of a past human relationship when they met you.

by the time they were done explaining you had a terrible headache.

“why don’t you sleep here? you can sleep in one of the bunks in eunchae and garam’s room.” sakura offered. you were too weak to decline.

“thank you.” you smiled. the girls helped you with getting a shower and other hygiene before offering you some extra pajamas that could fit you. you ended up texting your roommate that you wouldn’t be back at the dorm tonight. afterwards you powered your phone off as it was on 40%.

the house had 4 bedrooms, sakura had her own, chaewon had her own, jen and kazuha shared a room with two twin beds, and then eunchae and garam shared with 2 sets of bunk beds. each girl claimed the top bunk on the beds, so you slept on the one underneath eunchae.

“are you okay?” eunchae asked from the top bunk. it was close to 10 pm and the other girls hadn’t came home from the library yet.

“i don’t know.” you sighed before letting your body’s energy sink and going to bed.

when you awoke the next morning, it was 8 am. typically you had a 10 am class, but looking at your phone when you woke up, they had cancelled. that was your only class for the day.

eunchae came into the room with a smile. “i have class at 10:30. garam should be back by noon. sakura doesn’t have class on tuesdays and thursdays so she’ll be here all day unless there’s some work.”

you nodded. “thank you for everything.”

“of course. I heard their stories after i met sakura and kazhua and saw how much it affected them. even to this day. when i learned about you i felt i needed to warn you.” eunchae said softly. she waved and turned to leave.

sakura told you what they told you last night should not dictate your decision if you keep seeing the guys and allowing them to feed. she just gave advice to not let yourself get emotionally attached more than you are. to think of it as a transaction, because what have they done for you?

fancy gifts, hotel stays, fancy food, and pet names mean nothing if they don’t understand what you truly like as a person.

you grabbed your belongings, opting to stay in the sweats and hoodie you slept in. they definitely kept it cold in this damn house.

walking down the stairs, you saw sakura meeting you at the door with a smile. “you are welcomed here anytime, okay? don’t think you know this but when you’re here, they can’t track you.”

sakura gave you a hug goodbye as you walked the 5 minutes to your dorm.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you may have not realized the guys couldn’t track you all night, but they definitely realized.

that night around midnight, sunghoon went to your dorm to check on you. he used his mind power to unlock your dorm door and quietly make his way in. he couldn’t smell a fresh scent from you, and it was confirmed when you weren’t in bed asleep.

he panicked and immediately alerted jay.

sunghoon demanded jay stay behind with sunoo, jungwon and ni-ki, cause first off they needed someone (an elder) at home. secondly, sunghoon didn’t trust jay would approach you calmly once found.

that night, all night, sunghoon, heeseung, and jake spent hours looking and trying to track you with no luck.

when the guys returned to the house, telling jay they didn’t find you, jay stormed into the room where ni-ki and the other three slept, ripping the covers off of ni-ki.

“what the hell man!” ni-ki was not happy being woken up at ungodly hours of the night (ironic huh?).

“what was that girl’s name?” jay asked. by this time jungwon and sunoo were awake as well, sunghoon, jake, and heeseung in the doorway or near the doorway of the bedroom.

“what girl?”

“the one that was staring at you and—,”

“eunchae. don’t know a last name.” ni-ki groaned cutting jay off. ni-ki pulled the covers back over his head in attempt to shut off the conversation. “now let me sleep! i have class at 9.”

jay left the bedroom and began pacing around the house. jay texted you which went unanswered.

jay: love where are you?

that’s where it got him now, staying in the shadows as he stood outside your 10 am class. except the students or professor or you never came.

jay had class at 11 so it was sunghoons turn. he stood in the shadows by your dorm. and there you were. walking with your (?) hoodie up, eyes down, swiping into your dorm.

you unknowingly being watched, went up to your empty dorm, and peeled off the clothes you borrowed, grabbing an oversized shirt of heeseung’s slipping it over your head just as a knock came to your door.

you cursed yourself after opening it, without looking in the peephole. you went to shut it, but sunghoon was too strong. “baby doll, don’t be like that.”

he pryed the door open and you stepped back as he stepped him. “go away, i don’t want you here.” your voice shook.

“i did a nice thing by knocking, i could’ve just tampered with the door.” sunghoon tsked.

you swallowed knowing you were stuck. “what do you want sunghoon?”

“baby doll, where were you last night? me and some of the guys looked for you but couldn’t find you. you had jay so worried.” sunghoon pouted. he was faking his empathetic voice.

“well you didn’t look hard enough because i was here in bed.” you crossed your arms.

sunghoon shook his head, his tongue clicking in disappointment, “baby doll, we don’t like liars, especially me.” his voice lowered an octave with the last part with a growl.

“im not lying!”

“i came into your dorm last night and you were not here.” sunghoon growled.

“huh—?”

“i told you i could easily open your lock with my mind.” sunghoon smirked. “now where were you?” he gritted out.

you both were interrupted with a knock on the door. funny, sunghoon didn’t smell anyone coming.

sunghoon turned and opened the door seeing a red hair girl.

“hey are you okay?” she rushed towards you enveloping you in a hug. in your ear she whispered, “im jen, i was warned by eunchae you might need help.”

sunghoon couldn’t hear what she whispered. who was this girl?

jen turned towards sunghoon with a fake smile. “i think she needs some sleep. she had a long night.” jen smiled emphasizing “long.”

the tips of sunghoons ears began to turn red.

“who are you?” sunghoon asked.

“jen. im her friend.”

“she doesn’t have friends.”

“hey!” you interrupted. “please leave, im not feeling well, jen will make sure i get rest.”

“no, you will come home with me.” sunghoon stared at you intensely.

“no.” you shook your head.

“yes.” his eyes darkened.

“i said no sunghoon.” you stated. sunghoon looked at you confused then sighed.

“fine.” sunghoon said nothing more as he stormed out of your dorm, slamming the door. luckily it didn’t fly of the hinges with his strength.

you were so confused at his behavior, but jen wasn’t. “he was trying to mind control you to get you to leave with him.” jen said, basically answering your confusion.

“huh?” now you were even more confused.

jen explained the tea you had at their house had a drug in it to prevent any vampire or other supernatural creature from using their mind control or other powers on you or even them. seraphim’s could be easily manipulated by vampires or other supernatural creatures.

“how long does it last?” you asked. jen answered with at least 3 days. “good. im gonna need more of that.” you were going to need it to prevent any further manipulation from the guys.

in the mean time, jen added you to a new group chat she made with the girls for you to text whenever you needed them. if it was an emergency you was just to text them, ‘hi angels,’ and they’d find you and come to you.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

earlier that morning

“why looking so glum riki?” eunchae asked a tired looking ni-ki on their way to class. she happened to have an extra cup of coffee.

“my damn boss woke me up in the middle of the night asking dumb questions.”

“you call him boss?”

“he acts like he’s my boss.”

“call him den mother. that’s what he’s more like.” eunchae teased. “so why did he wake up you asking dumb questions?”

ni-ki explained how you went missing apparently and the guys were worried they couldn’t find you.

eunchae laughed, “she wasn’t missing, she was just hiding from yall.”

“yeah the olders didn’t like that.” ni-ki shook his head, “they’re so protective over her.”

“you mean possessive?”

“that too.” ni-ki sighed and explained the rest of the story and how they were gonna take turns this morning staking out your class and dorm.

that perked eunchae’s ears, but it also got her nervous when ni-ki told her that he told jay about her. eunchae quickly took out her phone to text the girls in the group chat, warning them you may need help.

“you haven’t told them that im a seraphim, right?”

ni-ki shook his head. “no, should i?”

eunchae quickly shook her head. “absolutely not. your kind hates my kind.”

ni-ki’s left eyebrow raised. “why is that?”

“it’s better to not know.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

it was currently 6:53 in the evening, and you have 30 missed calls and 177 unread messages from: jay, sunghoon, heeseung, and jake.

jungwon even texted to ask if you were okay, and it hurt you to not reply back. but you couldn’t be sure if it was actually jungwon, or perhaps jay and sunghoon using the other guys to get through to you.

jay: love answer your phone

sunghoon: babydoll, you answer us or face the consequences

heeseung: baby are you okay? we are worried about you

jake: im hungry for you. can we meet? i miss you.

jungwon: are you doing okay? im worried about you.

the absolute last message from jay sent chills through your body.

jay: love, you are going to regret ignoring us. you have until 7 pm tonight to answer us or you’re going to face some extreme consequences.

it was now 7:02 pm. your phone dinged with an email from your professor for tomorrows class. the same class jay was a teaching assistant for.

from: profkong@university.edu

class, tomorrow will be mandatory as we discuss finals. if you miss tomorrow, that will deduct 600 points out of your final grade. remember, the highest number of points to obtain from this class is 2000, and you need at least a 1800 to pass.

dammit you had planned to skip that class. jay must’ve done this on purpose so you couldn’t avoid him.

you were sure no one even had close to 800 points because many of the highest point assignments didn’t begin until later in the semester.

you were fucked. and you were scared to know what consequences jay and the guys could possibly have for you.

vampires house (#1)

seraphim’s house (#2)

[clarity2electricboogaloo]

Outsiders shit. Some modern some not idfk

These are all like. The most crack-filled hcs ever, please excuse my brain 🙏🏽🙏🏽 if these don’t make sense to you, tell me

- dally is so headstrong that the moment someone bets he can’t do something, he does it

- the gang takes advantage of this

- (this is a method I use on my younger siblings 😭😭)

- dally can walk in heels

- also two bit. Like scarily well. His sister is amazed.

- pony calls people whore

- Johnny calls people thot

- they say these to each other on a regular basis.

- also hoe

- uhhh where was I

- something something gay something something 70s 80s smth pony and Johnny because Johnny never died frfr no cap

- Johnny: “I can’t believe yall vape smh”

- also Johnny: *pulls out a cigarette for each hand*

- pony does the same thing

- twobit and Marcia are either gay-lesbian solidarity or they’re dating, no in between

- if they’re gay, they’re a beard couple just like “we pretend to date, they can’t catch on” “I like the way you think, woman”

- ily twobit matthews. That’s all.

- twobit and Marcia are actually both Hispanic, its canon trust I was there

- dally types “women ☕️” in instagram comment sections

- also “it’s bc I’m a man isn’t it”

- (ty V on discord for that second one 🙏🏽🙏🏽)

- cherry and dally argue on twitter

- a lot

- dally spams cherry and then she absolutely COOKS this pathetic rat man

- dally blocks cherry, doesn’t talk to her for a while, then eventually forgets and unblocks her to harass the poor girl again

- cherry doesn’t realize blocking is a thing, but she complains to marcia and marcia shows her how to block Dallas

- dally, two bit, and Steve are all hopelessly addicted to twitter

- like it’s really fucking bad

- someone get these mfs off the internet

- dally therapy

- now

- right fucking now

- cherry valance and ponyboy bisexual man/bisexual woman solidarity

- they are besties

- nothing more nothing less

- change my mind

- (you cant)

- marcia “good luck babe” by Chappell roan

- pony autism

- Johnny audhd

- Darry autism

- soda audhd or just adhd

- I saw someone say dally ocd once and I like it so

- dally ocd

- twobit adhd

- Steve adhd

- everyone trauma :D

- when johnny actually lived after the fire bc thats what actually happened actually fr, he left his parents because he realized they didn’t love him (pulling from the “I don’t wanna see her” scene for this)

- he stays with the curtis boys most of if not all the time

- if soda and Darry are gone, pony will grab Johnny and they’ll sleep together

- not in a weird way you freaks

- pony just genuinely cannot sleep

- I may or may not be influenced by fics I’ve read…

- soda saw them one night when he got home late and was like “…queers?”

- he stays out a bit later than usual now, often found sleeping in another room

- Darry actually supports more than pony thought, when he comes out, Darry is like a pride parade mom frfr

- kinda lowkey overbearing with it

- ily Darrel curtis

- soda is the typa guy to genuinely not understand lgbtq+ but supports anyways

- sodas the typa guy to be asked what his pronouns are and say “just he/him. Wish I had smth more interesting, but I’m just a guy :D”

- on the other end of that, soda and Steve are gay

- everyone is gay

- all of them

- so very fucking gay

Im done yapping for now, im so sorry for anyone that sees this

[angelfoxx]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ❝ A DIFFERENT NAME. ❞

…what they (endearingly) call you.

FEATURING: simon “ghost” riley, john “soap” mactavish, keegan p russ

WARNINGS: suggestive + mild nsfw. mild. also implied fem!reader for keegan’s part

NOTE/S: i love keegan so fucking much i want to plant my face between his legs and mash my face into his lap

★ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY.

✦ For a while, nothing. The progression is your callsign, to your last name, and then to your first name, and then it kind of stops there, because that’s a lot.

✦ At some point, probably when you two are casually working together — not on the field but just back at base, maybe you’re doing chores or something of the like — maybe he’s feeling a little sappy, or maybe he’s just a little tired, but either way, he’s not gatekeeping his words. He’s not watching himself.

✦ You pass him a mug of tea, and he takes it with a grunt and “thanks, love.”

✦ Absolute fucking silence.

✦ He stumbles into a short apology, and you almost fall over yourself trying to tell him that it’s okay and actually it’s really endearing and you really like being called that. He actually argues against you, cites safety as one of the reasons that he can’t call you that and get used to calling you that — and then, at some point, he runs out of rebuttals and all that’s left is the fact that you want him to keep calling you that.

✦ It takes him a long time to get comfortable with it, but over time, “love” becomes his new nickname of choice for you. At some point, he seems to say it more than he addresses you by your actual name. In public, he doesn’t usually call for you by name, and if he does, it’s your last name or maybe your first name. In private, he eventually almost solely refers to you as love. He also does it excessively. “G’morning, love. You tired, love? That one’s yours, love.” Et cetera.

★ JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH.

✦ Because he’s the way he is, chances are you’re being called by a nickname more than you’re being called by your name. And not necessarily, like, lovey-dovey ones.

✦ He’ll call you by your callsign on missions, right? And then you get back to base afterward and you’re both still sweaty and gross and he’ll come over and clap you on the back and go “that’s how it’s fuckin’ done, sugartits!” and you get to respond in kind by calling him whatever stupid nickname you can think of. “Dickweed” makes him laugh.

✦ At some point in the relationship, though, you guys don’t just fuck around 24/7. To be clear, the stupid nicknames are always going to stick around and the entire base knows that the two of you seem to be in a headlock over who can come up with the worse one, but as time goes on, there are genuine sweet ones thrown in.

✦ “Baby” is his favorite. Horrendously basic considering that he mashes words up for the most abhorrent nicknames he can make up, but he seems to like the simple shortness of it. It slips off of his tongue so nicely and it seems like, while his stupid nicknames make him laugh, “baby” makes him smile like an idiot.

✦ He’s most prone to using it in private (it’s deliciously low and gravelly when he’s got his eyes lidded and mouth curved into a wicked smirk and he’s knelt so casually between your legs) or in public. Especially if it’s a night where everyone is training or gaming. Any sort of situation in which you can beat someone else, he’s calling you by it. “Get ‘im, baby!” “Fuck ‘im up, baby.” Things like that. If/when you win in sparring matches or poker or whatever the fuck else, he’s very prone to celebrating on your behalf and referring to you as “my fuckin’ baby/girl/boy”.

★ KEEGAN P RUSS.

✦ this man could call me whatever the fuck he wants and i’d go weak in the knees. he could call me shitbrains in that sexy fucking voice of his and id be like yes yes shitbrains is me that’s me can I choke on your dick sir can i gargle your balls can i

✦ He really likes to call you by your last name. He makes a point out of using it as much as he can. If you have a callsign, he usually disregards it and just continues to call you by your last name. If you ask him about it, he’ll play dumb. and he’ll be biting back a smirk and then you’ll get on your knees and suck him off cause why haven’t you started doing that already

✦ Eventually, though, he might feel inclined to tease you. He’s obviously not opposed to doing the dirty work for the Ghosts — he’ll climb through sewers, stake out in muddy creeks, et cetera. If you make a comment about those environments to him, he’s prone to laughing at you and then, god damn the man, he’ll tease. “Not good enough for you, princess?”

✦ You sort of freeze up. He notices your hesitation and briefly thinks it’s because he’s possibly incurred a friendly fight but no, it’s because of that fucking name. Keegan’s blessed with the ability to fluster you very easily and so him calling you fucking princess has you sort of stumbling over yourself.

✦ He tortures you with it. Tortures you. He calls you princess or doll (because both make you sound little and weak, and he loves trying to get under your skin) when there are other people almost within earshot. He knows they can’t hear him — he’s insanely perceptive. You don’t know that, though, and so when you’re gearing up for a mission and he stoops down on his walk by and tells you that “you got a smudge on your cheek, princess”, he almost cackles upon your eyes going wide and your response being to immediately scold him for it. He’ll keep it coolly professional on public comms, but he’s tormenting you with it when you’re face-to-face or on a channel exclusive to the two of you.

✦ He tortures you with it in the best way. He does. Because he’s calling you princess while you two are working and he’s calling you princess when he’s looking to get a rise out of you but he’s also calling you princess when he’s got you bound so expertly in his private barracks and he’s also calling you princess when you’re straddling him in the driver’s seat of one of the repossessed armored cars and—

✦ LORD

[bubbleddisasters]

Stupid Shit I’ve done/Gotten myself into by accident/been dragged into as Twisted Wonderland Characters:

—————-

Ace : Heard my sister screaming bloody murder downstairs and didn’t do shit because I assumed she was watching a horror movie. Turns out there was a fire in the oven.

Bonus: Sniped my friend in the eye from across the Cafeteria with a Ketchup Packet, Meant to hit his glasses, but he repositioned them at the last second.

Deuce: Answered Maine four times on a Historical Geography test and was wrong all four times.

Cater: Threw my phone out of the window in a panic after seeing one of my Idols followed me back.

Bonus : Accidentally convinced a transfer camper from Wales I was from London after I quoted something in the accent to myself in the showers and was too awkward to tell them I wasn’t when they struck up the conversation.

(I am from America, and the camp is in America.)

Trey: Accidentally created a puddle of Dark Red Icing and Stepped in it four times in a row while making a cake at 2 am.

Bonus : Befriended and helped out the owner of a French Bakery down the street when they started out, they ended up becoming really popular (rightfully so, her stuff is amazing) and now I either get free shit and/or Friends and Family Discounts.

Riddle : I have read the dictionary on multiple occasions out of sheer boredom.

Bonus: I once read the bible and marked down verses. Im not religious I just needed to win an argument.

Leona: Slept through an earthquake and 3 ambulances coming to my house bcs my sister was hurt.

Ruggie: Waited for families going inside to pass by and asked them to hold the door for me so I could sneak into a VIP rooms for free food. (Usually only at fancy hotels but luckily this strategy is flexible when your 5’2 with a baby face.)

Jack: Used to Smash open large rocks containing Crystals or Quartz at the beach as a kid, and now I have a large collection of them.

Bonus: I have extremely good hearing, to the point I hear into the negative decibels up to -15 - -20 (according to the audiologist this is rare but i literally don’t know shit about audio and decibels) so my old dormmates used to try and bribe me to tell them what I heard about certain things or themselves.

Bonus 2: Almost got shot by an illegal hunter while in the woods with my sister.

Floyd : Cracked my skull open at the pool, lost consciousness for a few seconds and woke up in the water calling for help, then got confused on why I was calling for help.

Bonus : A Sea lion once came up to me while I was scuba diving and did little circles, bumped its snout on my mask and just followed me the whole time in a very gleeful manner as a temporary homie.

Bonus 2: Apparently ate / took bites of my moms library books as a little kid (????) according to the librarian.

Jade: Taught myself to untie my hands with my hands behind my back, tie by hands behind my back with my hands behind my back, deciphered, translated and memorized a fictional hieroglyphic language, Read from Act 1 to Act 6 of Homestuck, and accidentally discovered how to disguise Chocolate Ice Cream as Pistachio; all within the span of 2 weeks. (I had covid and was A-Symptomatic)

Bonus : Lived in the Woods for 7 months (in total), had a large bag of mica and Almost Drowned in a tent when there was no moving water nor rain. (Basically, I was asleep, Woke up underwater, nearly went back to bed, then shot out of my tent screaming “My Tent Titanticed!” )

(It was like 3 am don’t judge me)

Azul: Somehow ended up with $2200 dollars in $100s in Monopoly at the end of the game. Also have been stuck between two identical twins while talking with both and boi that shits TRIPPY. (I also almost died with them later but it was fine)

Bonus: I lived on a middle of fuck knows where island during the spring and summer up until covid, yet I absolutely despise eating fish or Shellfish, and the smell often makes me nauseous.

(Bonus 2: I love shiny things, but very specifically fancy looking keys. I also had a weird obsession with signing a shiny contract after watching Ariel. Another tiny thing Is I own a Flotsam and Jetsam Scarf which I chuck around when Floyd or Jade pisses me off ingame.)

Kalim : Got distracted by a cool leaf while at a fancy resort in Xatapa, Mexico, and waddled off from my parents and explored around to try and find more, somehow managed to get extremely far and ended up lost in a whole different city for 6 hours while trying to find my way back.

Bonus 1: I had an obsession with Kiwis for awhile as a kid, and our neighbors house had a Pangium tree that reached over to our yard. (It was planted before either families moved in so we didn’t know) I thought it was some kind of strange Kiwi and ate one. I didn’t like it and was like “Oh maybe its not ripe” and waited 3-5 months then tried it again, same reaction, repeat process one more time.

I went to my parents out of curiosity and asked them what it was, and so after some process I am unaware of but I think my mom brought one of the fruits somewhere, we discovered what it was.

Pangium contains Fatal amounts of Cyanide if not properly prepared. I was fine but for the love of anything please don’t try eating it like little me did.

Bonus 2: I’ve Almost died more times than I can count on both hands and feet. Im not an heir or something fancy I just have wackass luck.

Jamil: Once had to talk my sister out of jumping off a tour boat because our cousin dared her to.

Bonus : Managed to make French Toast in the middle of the woods with Dehydrated Milk, Cinnamon, Three Eggs I stole, and a loaf of bread we got once a month. Also made 3 kinds marinated chicken in the middle of the woods.

(My Cooking Style is literally “just trust me bro.” I’m like Lilia except it actually works and is edible)

Epel : Whenever we went applepicking at my Grandfathers house, I’d climb into the trees and throw or pass the apples down. Sometimes I actually wish I could sit in trees more often shits comfy.

Bonus: My Mom was a Champion Horseback Rider as a kid, and sometimes took us to this Ranch I shall not name for my own privacy, but I’d run around with this group of kids and this one herding dog like a damn movie protagonist, sometimes go riding horses, or the one time we stole a tractor and near crashed it (THE REGRETS I STILL HAVE-) etc.

The WHIPLASH from that to going back to a whitewashed Northeast suburban town is insane.

Rook: My Cousins and I, and sometimes the kids at the priorly mentioned ranch, would play the most intense games of manhunt (basically really intense hide n seek at night) ,

I mean wearing camo if you had it, alliances, little dollar store walkie-talkies, code words, binoculars, climbing in trees or hiding in bushes/tall grasses/Hay to “scout”.

I hid in a large pot/vase more than once and another time on a roof, and (ONLY ONCE, DO NOT DO THIS IM STUPID) under a car.

I still remain the top in last man standing points. Mostly bcs I’m stingy with rescues but shhh

Vil - Accidentally poured a lot of liquid eyeliner into my eye, was literally crying out Eyeliner for 30 minutes. Also taught myself to run and jump in heels as a kid because I thought it looked cool in movies.

Ortho : Unknowingly was Hacking my Elementary School Databank for several years,

I genuinely thought it was normal to go on the school website, press a few buttons and be able to find a friends address if I had a playdate and needed to tell my mom where the house was, a parents phone number if needed communication with my friends parents , and mostly ignored the other general info.

I didn’t even know I did this until my dad told me a few months ago that I almost got suspended for it but by the time they found out it was the end of my last year there. ;—;

Edit: I feel I should elaborate that my dad had somewhat recently told me that I almost got suspended for that in elementary school, but all that happened 5 YEARS ago. Hence why I was so surprised because I was never told back then.

Idia: Accidentally acquired both a Nahida and Eula in Genshin and was genuinely annoyed at the time, they are now my most powerful DPS’s…

Bonus : I own a shit ton of original Japanese first edition Pokemon Cards my cousin gave me, (they are probably worth more than me which is neat), and I have a giant pile of Pokemon plushies I have infact fallen asleep on or in on multiple occasions.

Bonus 2: I was playing Breath of the Wild, and my very first thing I did after getting off the plateau was beeline for the castle. I actually got all the way up and took out 2 blights but the Wind one kicked my ass.

Bonus 3: Got confessed to and asked out by a guy I did not like nor knew very well, and I panicked, said “Maybe, Sorry no.” And ran into a wall. Also have crawled through a chute to avoid an awkward situation as a kid (do not recommend its dusty and definitely not safe)

Bonus 4: Once didn’t sleep for 5 days.

Malleus : Accidentally attended a Private Party and a Private Funeral in the same week. I was not invited nor knew anyone present. Stayed there for most of it because I was too nervous to say I wasn’t supposed to be there. Whoop.

Bonus: Got nicknamed the “Trip Curse.” By my Old Dormmates because everytime I went on a trip with them everything seemed to go to shit or get hella chaotic.

Bonus 2: Another camping one: Once woke up at night with a shit ton of fireflies just chilling in my tent. It was serene but also I genuinely thought I was hallucinating for a few minutes.

Lilia: Literally will hang upside down anywhere I can, its so fun bro.

Bonus : I know an extremely large amount of useless historical information, and once genuinely realized I know more about poison than what flour and eggs are used for in baking.

Silver : Once befriended a wild horse ( Im like 90% sure he was a Chestnut).

I called him Clover the Dog like horse because he was honestly just a golden retriever in the body of a horse.

This is great and theres alot of sweet moments, but then theres the times you have a giant horse galloping full speed at you for attention or trying to nudge you affectionately and nearly pushing you into a creek in the process.

Sebek: Got groundstruck by lightning once. Also I am often told I have a loud voice.

Che’nya : a good friend of mine and I have an inside joke at school where if we see eachother through a window (my school has alot of indoor windows for some reason?), we’ll text the other “Behind you.” Or “To your left.”

——————-

Theres more things I can think of but I have run out of characters and this is getting too long, so ye!

[harmonized-disarray]

the things im reading here are really saddening.. this week's episode was a really good one, it finally unraveled the mystery surrounding one of the main characters, and also explained how we got to where we are now. It was fun, it was emotional and it was intense. as well as a declaration of intentions for the characters.

agatha and billy are now standing on equal ground. they're seeing each other face to face (mostly. because there's still more agatha backstory to discover) in the sense that the sigil is broken, the jig is up, and even though at this point they both have issues with each other, they know they still have to work together to get through the road. It's a mutually beneficial treuce.

This happening now is necessary to lay the groundwork for their actual development. Agatha being visibly pissed at him but still telling him he is a witch?? And a survivor?? That's such an interesting fucking moment!!! It's an interesting dynamic and it's so well done!!

It's episode 6! Which means there are still three whole episodes left. Have you people not watched the mid season trailer? (If you actually haven't I won't say anything specific but read at your own risk) the show is still about agatha. It's been about agatha (all along [i couldn't resist.]) Come on now, haven't you all watched wandavision either? It's the same people doing this show and the structure is pretty similar. Have a little faith.

I get wanting to see your favorite characters and their every interaction but that's actually not what the show is about. Is Rio a crucial character of this story and her relationship with agatha a huge deal on this show? Of course. But so is Billy. That's why we needed this episode, because he is important to the story and to agatha herself.

I don't know. To me it's just pretty obvious that the whole thing with Agatha and her past is going to be the big BIG emotional climax because it is the big BIG foundation that makes Agatha, Agatha. It's quite literally the point. To know how Agatha got here, what she wants, what she's willing to give up, to do, in order to get it. Whether she can actually be good or not. Whether this is a redemption story or not. Whether she changes, if the road changes her this time. Whether she forgives Rio or not. Hell, even if she lives or dies. This is what the show is about. Every episode has shown us a different part of Agatha up until now, even this one. And so, the remaining episodes will be the same. They'll be the answer, just like this episode was the answer to Billy's questions (who is, again, crucial to the story, Agatha as a character and a part of the coven). And I believe that will include the coven's history, rio, nicholas, and of course Agatha.

[Also, i find being upset about the heart a little silly. The note had a black heart that symbolized Billy because due to the sigil, he couldn't say his name to the others, Lilia could not write a name she couldn't know or remember. To AGATHA (and the viewers) the black heart symbolized Rio, because that's what black hearts remind her of. That's why she had such a visceral reaction to it, why she hid it from 'teen' and refused to accept it. BOTH things are true and that's fine. It's good writing because it made sense back in episode 2. It makes sense now in episode 6. And it was never an actual lie.]

[kinardsheart]

prompts!!! :

“The 118 responding to a helicopter crash and they find out it’s Tommy (nobody dies) and it’s just all fluffy and angsty with a happy ending”

ive seen so many variations of this but uh i want a go before i sleep so sorry if this is cringe or weird or inaccurate exdept i dont really care, ty @alittlefuckingdisaster !

perhaps heavy angst because im feeling really sad (phoebe bridgers is on).

———————————

“Mayday, mayday, mayday! This is Tommy Kinard, 217. My helicopters going down, the screens have shut down and controls aren’t working, I’m hovering over the structure!”

Everyone on the ground’s heads immediately shot up, eyeing the only helicopter in the sky as it started to shake violently mid-flight. Buck’s blood ran ice cold, nausea overtaking him as he looked to the sky, then to Bobby’s similarly alarmed face. Shit.

They were wrapping up on a big scene, a 5 alarm fire at a massive cabin (mansion, really) in the woods, right next to a scenic cliffside view. It hadn’t gone smoothly, but they had thought the worst was over.

“Firefighter Kinard, can you in any way control the plane and make a landing?” The captain from the 127 spoke, a dimwit having assisted in the fire alongside them.

No, he couldn’t. He just said he couldn’t. Buck had to help somehow, he just had to move. But his feet were glued to the ground and all he could do was watch in horror as the helicopter shook one last time with vigor before colliding directly into the ends of a forest, branches and wings blending in so thoroughly you could barely the bright blue paint. Tommy had said he wanted to paint his car blue the other day, over lemonade and giggles. A loud screech, Tommy’s loud “fuck” over the radio, and then silence. Deafening silence.

It may have lasted an hour, a day, or a minute. He couldn’t move. He was paralysed, staring at the fallen chopper as flames began to lick at the edges, spreading brazenly through the trees back into the plane as it balanced eerily, one wrong breeze capable of sending the copter careening off the cliffside.

“Firefighter Kinard, check in.”

Silence as everyone collectively held their breath.

Buck was about to press his radio, screaming for Tommy to check in, to talk, to just let them know he was alive. Please be alive. I’ll pray to whoever I need to, please.

A click, and then a battered, exhausted but oh so alive voice spoke. “I’m here.”

Sighs of relief were spread around until the atmosphere tensed again, everyone shifting into rescue mode once more. This was a delicate situation, and needed careful deliberation before action. Buck was done with thinking, being useless in action. This was Tommy. He started to run towards the fire despite the desperate calls to come back and plan behind him from the 118 & 217 alike.

Standing infront of the blaze, the helicopter a few feet above him, he went into a private channel and prayed once more that his boyfriend was still conscious as the vehicle leaned ominously backwards.

“Tommy, can you jump?”

He could hear the groan of agony even from the ground as the other presumably tried to move.

A click. “No… Evan, it’s bad. I- My leg- I can’t move it. I can’t move my arm either.”

The words weighed heavy as Tommy took a moment.

“You should go. Save yourself, I-I don’t- I don’t want you to see this, sweetheart.”

Tears sprung to his eyes, the reality of the situation suddenly hitting him as the fire crackled and hissed, making it’s way through to engulfing the plane. He had called him sweetheart, even with the acceptance of his death. The nausea came back with a vengeance, but did it ever really leave?

No. This wasn’t how it ended.

An idea formed in his head. It wasn’t a good one, but it was better than nothing. It involved him not losing Tommy, and that was all he needed. He took a few steps backwards, then ran forward with as much speed as he could generate before leaping, making an ‘oomph’ sound as he collided with a solid branch, chest screaming in pain. Scrambling up onto it, he looked up. Just a few more to go. Determination was all he felt.

He couldn’t lose Tommy. He wouldn’t. He was undeniably his soulmate; the only one he wanted to keep. It was ironic that the only person he wanted to keep had to be the one that was injured first. Maybe his bad luck was infectious. Every touch, every kiss, every look gave him butterflies, Fireworks exploded behind his eyes everytime the older man had placed his big hands anywhere on his body. The love he felt with Tommy was like nothing he’d felt ever, and he wasn’t losing it to something he fought everyday.

Panting heavily by the time he made it to the same level as the helicopter, his boyfriend’s eyes widened in panic as they met. Even now, those beautiful pupils brought him comfort. He was so gone on him, barely able to even feel the heat burning his exposed skin as the fire claimed the tree he was gripping on to.

“Evan- get down. Now. Why are you here? No- you’re going to get hurt, get down!” The other tried to sit up while growling, making the deathtrap lean backwards dangerously. The sight nearly made him hurl, knowing the fatal drop behind them.

“Tommy, don’t move, please. I have a plan. Let me come closer.”

The previous panic widened into downright despair, the arm that was cradling his injuries moving to grip the bar next to him. “Baby, please. I need you to leave and save yourself. It’s not too late.”

“The 118 is right under us, just grab my hand. I’ll save us. Tommy.” Buck was begging now, had been creeping closer inch by inch until he was barely a meter away, hand outstretched as the flames closed in on them.

In an incredible show of trust, he felt a familiar warm hand wrap around his just as the helicopter gave one last guttural noise. He pulled Tommy forward into his arms before they were met with an explosion so loud, so violent, Buck would’ve called it beautiful if it hadn’t put the man in his arms in danger. The shock had sent them both flying backwards towards the ground, and in his last moments of consciousness, all he could do was wrap his body tight around the older man’s and brace for impact.

Tommy would be okay. If they couldn’t be together in this life, Buck would find him in the next.

The last thing he felt was a kiss to his forehead and then pain. So much pain. But the ground underneath him was soft? Despite the voices begging him to stay awake as the warmth in his arms was removed, he was so sleepy..

Huh, did he have somewhere to be..?

———

“You need to ask him to move in.”

Buck grinned toothily, clinking his glass against Eddie’s in agreement as he sat down opposite him.

“I know. I’ve already picked out the place.”

“Cocky.” They laughed, letting the pleasant buzz overtake them.

———

“Yeah, I’ll come get him. Sorry Maddie.”

“Don’t be sorry, he’s my baby brother. I’d love for him to stay but he keeps talking about missing his hot pilot boyfriend.”

Tommy chuckled, saying that he would be there soon and ending the call.

When he pulled up, parking and walking inside, he was met with a sight to say the least.

Evan was sprawled out on the couch, shirt riding up ever so deliciously, but eyes red-rimmed as if he was crying. It made alarm bells go off in his head as he raised a hand to gently hold his face.

“You okay baby?”

Those beautiful glassy baby blues flicked over to meet his, tears immediately falling as he started wailing, launching himself into the chest infront of him. “Tooooommmmyyyy…~”

He was so, so drunk. The older man chuckled, bundling the lanky man up in his arms princess style, before dipping his head in acknowledgement to Maddie in the corner. She smiled at him warmly, yet the happiness didn’t meet her eyes. “You know he loves you… like, so much, right?”

He had heard. “The feelings mutual, I assure you.”

The brunette shook her head. “I know that. But I want you to know Tommy, it’s not just him. We love you too. You have a place in this family, even if you’re not married. You don’t need to constantly act like you’re an outsider because you’re not. We love you, Tommy. We’re always going to be here for you.”

Oh. Picking up his drunk lover wasn’t something he expected to be done with in tears, but the 118 (though Maddie wasn’t technically a part of them), had ways of surprising him. He nodded, a bit choked up as she leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. When had she gotten so close?

———

When he was able to place Evan gently in the frontseat, he was met with eyes that should’ve been shut staring right at him with adoration.

Alright, he couldn’t help it if he leaned forward to place a kiss on those pouting lips, and then on the enticing birthmark above.

“I love you, Evan. I’m so excited to live with you.”

The other smiled goofily, sighing in content.

“Tomorrow. We move in tomorrow, right?”

“Yep.”

“I love you too, Tommy. I think we were born to be together. I think that in every life, I’d find you.. every life, I’d fight to come home to you. Forever.”

He chuckled affectionately and shook his head. “In every life, Evan.”

———

“He’s not breathing, start compressions.”

———

“Evan!”

“Step back, sir, we’ve got this.”

“No, he’s my- we were meant to move in today, please let me-”

“Sir, we can handle this.”

“No pulse, restarting compressions.”

“Please…”

———

“I’ve got a pulse!”

[sturnstars5]

i love you, i’m sorry-matt sturniolo

you and matt swore you were done, but are you?

warnings: fluff, swearing, happy ending

*there is a flashback in the story it’s in blue!*

empty. emptiness was what you felt. it had been two weeks since you left the love of your life, matt. you try to tell yourself, “well, it was his fault” or “i’ll be better off without him, it’ll just take time”, but nothing worked. you missed him.

you sat on your couch, something you had been doing more than usual lately, and stared outside through the window. you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything other than overthink. you would replay the moments of you and matt’s breakup argument in your mind, like it was a movie on loop 24/7. and just when you would feel a sliver of joy, the movie would start again, leaving you to drown in self pity.

it was getting late, so you picked yourself up off of the couch and laid down in bed, staring at the ceiling. sleep wasn’t exactly on your side.

it was about 1:30 am, and you were still awake when you heard your front door creak open.

what the fuck?

you sat straight up and froze, paralyzed in fear, not knowing what to to next. normally, matt would take control and go see what was happening, but he wasn’t there. he was gone.

you hear the persons foot steps get louder and louder until you hear them stop right in front of your bedroom door.

the door opened slowly, revealing a puffy eyed, sad looking matt.

he looked awful to say the least, he looked like he hadn’t eaten in days. his face was all swollen, his eyes bloodshot with dark bags under them. his face was glistening with tears, and his nose was runny.

“matt,” you say.

“i know, i should’ve called, im sorry.”

“you almost gave me a heart attack! do you know what time it is?”

“yes, i know, okay? i said im sorry.”

“why are you here matt, i thought we were over.”

“i know that’s what we said, but i cant stop thinking about you, about us.”

“matt,”

“i know, y/n, i know what i did was wrong. going to that party was a whole wrong decision in itself. but i still love you, y/n.”

“but matt, you pinky swore you wouldn’t cheat, and you broke it! how am i supposed to trust you now?”

“i don’t know, i just hope you can find it in your heart to give me one more chance.”

you think back to the night you found out about the party…

1:00 am, 2:15 am, 3:40 am, matt still wasn’t home. he said he was filming with his brothers, and you believed him. you called him, and he didn’t answer,m. you then called nick and chris, and they didn’t answer either. you give up, just telling yourself that their phones died, and you go scroll on instagram in your bed. nick posted a picture of himself and chris at a party.

where was matt?

you look harder, only to see matt’s lips pressed against another girl. her hands threading through his soft brown hair. matt was yours, so why was he with her?

matt arrived home, drunk, stumbling lazily into your shared bedroom.

“hey baby.” he says with a smirk.

“don’t call me that, matthew.”

“what the fuck is your deal, y/n?”

“this!” you say, throwing your phone in his face. you’re zoomed in on him and the other girl, matt looking at the photo. even his drunken state cant cover up the guilt and regret in his mind.

“who’s that?” he says, lying.

“that’s you, matt! who else would it be? you know what you did matt, and i know too. i’m not as dumb as you think i am.”

“it was just one kiss, so what? it was a party, and we were needy and drunk.”

“have you lost your fucking mind, matt?

“no i haven’t, but clearly you have, bitch!”

“i’m not gonna be talked to like this by my own boyfriend, so get out.”

“what?”

“i said, get. out. matt. we’re done.”

“come on, don’t you think you’re being overdramatic?”

“get out! now!”

“y/n?” you hear matt say softly.

you snap out of your memory, taking a second to focus back on reality.

“listen, y/n, i’m not asking for you to let your guard down again and take me back, i just guess i want you to know that i love you, and that im sorry.”

matt stares at you, his face full of desperation and vulnerability, and most of all, regret. a single tear rolls down his face, dropping on the floor as it falls off.

“do you promise to be loyal, matt?”

“yes, of course i do. i wont screw it up this time.”

“i’m serious matt, i cant take that again. i cant go through that again.”

“i promise.”

“okay then.”

“so, what now?” matt asks.

“do you wanna, maybe try again?” you ask softly.

“yes. i swear i wont fuck it all up this time.” matt replies.

you and matt hug, and for the first time in a while, you feel genuinely happy and loved.

“i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too matt.”

kind of a rushed fic but wtv!!

[writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink]

Could y'all imagine Talia sending Jason back to Gotham so he can live a normal life and just do what he wants to do with himself after Talia helps him get his head back on somewhat straight and Jason just assumes Talia told Bruce and she just didn't either because she forgot or other reasons and Jason is just well here's a few different scenarios for ya

Scenario 1: Jason going back to college and to pay for it he's just working at bat burger dick walks in to get some takeout after a long night of vigilante stuff and a long shift of being a cop and he just needs something quick to go so he can go home and crash and he just freezes at the register because why is he seeing his dead brother older is he hallucinating did he get gassed and he didn't know is he being haunted right now, meanwhile Jason is just casually like oh hey dick you look like you had a long night here have a free fry on me, dick is just like Jay?! LITTLE WING YOUR ALIVE?! and Jason's just like uhhh yeah have been for a few years now, dick goes through the five stages of grief in like five minutes and looks like he's having a stroke about to burst into tears because his little brother is alive but quickly it turns into confused anger, WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'VE BEEN ALIVE FOR A FEW YEARS DID BRUCE KNOW?! and Jason's just like I assume so I think Talia told him cause she found me and helped me fix my head and she knew I was coming back to Gotham for college.. Dick vibrating with the rage of an oldest sibling IM GONNA KILL HIM THIS MOTHER FUCKER FIRST OFF DOESNT TELL ME YOU DIED AND NOW HE DOESNT TELL ME THAT YOUR ALIVE OHHHH HES DEAD DEAD IM ENDING HIS EXISTENCE .. Jason just like yeah okay cool uh now is your order to go or for here ...

Later at the manor

ALFRED WHERE IS BRUCE HE HAS SOME FUCKING EXPLAINING TO DO

Alfred: welcome home master dick what is this about

Dick: THIS IS BETWEEN ME AND BRUCE ALFRED I THOUGHT WE WERE OVER THIS ...

Alfred: oh my-,

Bruce walking in from the bat cave: Dick? What's the matter?!

Dick: LIKE YOU DONT KNOW *JUMPS HIM AND IS OUT FOR BLOOD*

Alfred just breaks up the fight and puts them both in there corners

Alfred: NOW MASTER DICK YOU WILL BE CALM AND CIVILIZED AND TELL US WITH YOUR WORDS WHAT MASTER BRUCE HAS DONE

Dick: *vibrating with rage*, JASON IS ALIVE AND BRUCE TOLD NO ONE IT WAS BAD ENOUGH I MISSED MY LITTLE BROTHERS FUNERAL AND DIDNT KNOW HE WAS DEAD BECAUSE HE DIDNT TELL ME BUT THIS?!, MY BABY BROTHER IS ALIVE AND YOU DIDNT TELL ME WORST OF ALL YOU DIDN'T SPEAK TO HIM HES BEEN ALIVE FOR A FEW YEARS AND YOU TOLD NO ONE, *his voice cracks at the end*

Bruce: *absolutely flabbergasted* what do you mean Jason is alive ?!

Dick: yeah he's working at bat burger to pay for college he said Talia told you a few years ago

Bruce:... She.. uh... didn't I haven't heard from her in over two years

Dick: ...?

Alfred: well now how about I put on a spot of tea so we can discuss this like gentleman

Bruce: I gotta go make a call tea sounds good Alfred thank you, and dick you know the mission comes first that is why I didn't tell you about his death but I'm sorry that it hurt you

Dick: ready to break Bruce's face

....

Scenario 2: Talia finds Jason and takes him back to the league with her and trains him and helps fix his broken psych and helps him remember who he is and helps him piece together his past and treats him like a son and basically raises him alongside Damian, and once Jason fully remembers everything he tells Talia that he wants revenge but first he wants to visit Gotham and try a bit of a normal life because there's so much he hasn't gotten to do yet and he wants to try those things and Talia gives him her blessing to do what he wants and let's him know that he always has a home with her and Damian

Fast forward a few years and Jason's just chilling drinking a soda on his rooftop lounging reading a book for a random English class he decided to take on a whim

Jason looks up to see the bat gliding onto his rooftop with Damian as Robin to get a better vantage view of some random bad guys doing no good in Gotham

Bruce: doesn't recognize Jason at all initially and just assumes he's a random Gotham citizen that's giving him the side eye

Damian: just assumes Jason is still mad at Bruce for not avenging him and letting the clown live so he keeps quiet as he doesn't wanna get in the middle of his favourite body guard/older brother figure from the league and his father

Bruce: starts to realize there's something incredibly familiar about this random Gotham citizen starts to look at him closer

Jason: aggravated because why is his father staring at him so intensely after not only not avenging his death but also not inviting him to any family dinners after knowing he's alive for like three years what the fuck is that about, "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT OLD MAN YOU GOT SOMETHING TO SAY",

Bruce: immediately is reminded of the little boy that stole the tires off his batmobile, Jason?! Is that you.. wha-.. how..

Jason: annoyed, don't act as if you didn't know Mr. I know everything about Gotham I am vengeance

Damian: kinda smirks at Jason mocking Bruce but also disapproves

Bruce: Jay... I really didn't know you were alive...

Jason: looks at Damian, then looks at Bruce, didn't Talia tell you?!

Damian: *swears in Arabic*

Bruce: Damian language!!!!

Damian: pulls out his phone calls Talia, mother did you forget something important

Talia: uh no?!

Damian: Todd

Talia: whoops I knew I forgot something

Damian: *swears in Arabic*,

Talia: *in a stern mom voice* now I know I didn't just hear you say that let me speak to your father!!!!

Damian: hands the phone to Bruce whos about to pass out from the shock

Talia: so uh surprise your son is alive he can tell you the details himself, she then hangs up

Bruce: sits on the concrete floor having a crisis because his dead son isn't actually dead and holy shit his son knew he wasn't dead, and his ex gf also knew and forgot to tell him

Jason: so I see your still lugging around that stupid sword ya know you haven't let go of that thing since you were five honestly I'm surprised you haven't poked out your eyeballs with that thing especially with how carelessly you used to swing it at me

Damian: shut up at least I wasn't dumb enough to get blown up and then forget who I am and had to get bailed out by my father's ex girlfriend

Jason: you wanna go demon brat cause I still have those baby pictures you know the ones of you but naked running away from ras trying to give you a bath and u pulling a sword on him only to accidentally knock yourself out with it

Damian: YOU TOLD ME YOU DELETED THAT

Jason: smiling I say a lot of things now behave or I'm posting these on the internet and I'll be sure that little Kent boy sees it as well

Damian: *draws his sword*, so you've chosen death

Jason: cackling

Bruce: absolutely baffled about to call Alfred to come get him because this is too much, wait did Jason just say he has baby pictures of Damian with ras...

[sleepymccoy]

Okay so something happened in the trekdom (is that a term anyone has ever used)

I think spirk got canonised?? Or something?? And I assume that as my certified Trekkie Mutual you feel some kinda way about this. you’re a Spones shipper but still how we doing?

I'm sure someone's used trekdom! It makes sense as a word regardless

I appreciate the Trekkie certification lol

Yeah dude, look. Most of the fandom is big into spirk so like people enjoying that romance is par for the course! I got nothing against spirk, it's just a bit of a boring dynamic so I don't really spend time on it. Too healthy for my tastes. Spones is way more juicy, it's got the tension and the sort of different world views that you see in good omens, so it's fun!

To be clear tho, spirk is as canon as it's ever been. Strong subtext, but in the way that a homophobe could watch it and say well they're just good friends. Nothing has changed in that sense, it's just another bit of footage doing more of the same. It's less gay than a lot of the original series, but it's new and shiny so on a surface level i get the excitement

Shatner, who plays Kirk, has done this as a non canon short film. It's apparently considered as canon as the novels? Which is like, not much. Most people don't engage. I haven't really looked into that, im not gonna watch it cos it kind of pisses me off

The thing that really fucks my goat about it is that the guy who plays Spock died a while ago, and didn't get along with the guy who plays Kirk. But the guy who plays Kirk has funded and produced and managed this whole thing to be about his character and his importance, regardless of the wishes of the original Spock actor. Including literally doing someone up in prosthetics to look more like Nimoy. Not just Spock generally, but specifically Nimoy's Spock. Nimoy was involved in star trek films in his late life, and he didn't choose to do this when he was alive. Only after his death has Shatner forced this to happen

That's what's leaving a really bad taste in my mouth. And I feel like people are either not accepting Nimoy's death and are happy to see him puppeted by someone he disliked, which makes me pity them. I work in aged care so I know I'm more comfortable with death than the average, but like. This is a bit fucking dark, no? It's maudlin, let him rest in peace for fucks sake.

That, or they don't mind the manipulation of his image if it tickles their ship, which makes me dislike them. And I don't think I'll really get over that any time soon, it's so disrespectful. And those are both negative feelings, so I'm kind of generally not pleased about my dash rn

I'm trying to take an angle of being about McCoy cos he doesn't feature in the short and that feels wrong. Spock-centric stuff is feeling a little tainted right now, but I'm sure that'll pass. Fanart is different to this kind of image stealing, but it's still weird for me rn. And as much as I love Kirk, I can't remove him from Shatner and his megalomania right now. I hope that'll pass, but I don't think Shatner's gonna stop here so. Hm.

Besides I like McCoy and he's not complicated by all this so I'm just continuing to play in my little sandbox

It's a weird time for trekdom. There's a bit of a rift, and not down shipping lines. I'm seeing a lot of posts working through their complicated feeling around the disrespect inherent in stealing Nimoy's face for Shatner. And I'm seeing other people celebrate the disrespect cos their ship held hands and that makes it worth it.

I'm hoping people overwhelmingly calm down a bit in a week, get a bit embarassed about how pleased they were over something so gross, and it just sort of goes away. Then we can all go back to having a go at Shatner for his constant sexism and homophobia

At least it's not fucking AI tho!