#especially when its so stressful being a free to play player

[cupidssblood]

now that it's confirmed you need to catch up on the lessons to understand the new game, can anyone give me tips on how to level up cards and finish lessons without having to spend money? i really wanna catch up in time to play the new game but i'm so far behind and have had a lot of trouble making my cards strong enough. any advice will help!! xoxo, lots of love

[jerriemofos]

Since its the January transfer window, i'll be talking about players that i would love to see at Arsenal!

Obviously, with the registered players being at the max, it's not realistic for new signings to come in this window. So these are players that i think will massively improve our squad in the summer especially if we do want to make it far in the uwcl and win the wsl!

Also, i would like to make another post about players that i will not be opposed to leaving in the summer to get better players in 🤔 but idt yall are ready for that conversation yet

1) Maëlle Lakrar

Amazing young defender, very attacking minded, fits in the playstyle of how jonas wants our defenders to be

Hard worker, loves to get interceptions in, 1v1 duels to win the ball back (i love defenders like this)

Tactically intelligent, able to get into good positions to intercept players and loves to progress the ball forward to quickly transition into attack

At 170cm, she handles aerial duels well and can be used as a threat in set pieces

Quite pacey and can handle speedy forwards when in transition

A lot of big clubs have already started enquiring about her as her contract ends in 2024, would be a shame if Arsenal lose her to a big rival.

2) Sakina Karchaoui

One of the best left-footed fullbacks in the world right now, very attacking minded defender, which again is how jonas loves our defenders to be

Only 160cm but what she lacks in height, she makes up for in work ethic, loves to be higher up the pitch to get involved in attacks but tracks back well to defend when caught in transition

Loves to get interceptions in, 1v1 duels to win the ball back, often both having a high rate of success

Same as Maëlle, her contract ends in 2024 and the opportunity to get a worldclass fullback on a free should not be missed. She will be a massive upgrade on Arsenal's left-back position.

3) Chiamaka Nnadozie

Goalkeepers are a harder one to judge because you cannot rely on stats, so this analysis is based on eye tests

At 23 years old, one of the best young goalkeepers in the world right now

180cm, an excellent height for a gk

Had an amazing WWC23 run as a starter for Nigeria

Currently, also having an amazing uwcl run with Paris FC

Very impressive aerial abilities for a young keeper (imo can be considered worldclass)

Great outside the box, able to play out from the back effectively

Although at times her decision making can be better, but with the right coaching, she's on her way to be a worldclass gk

Amazing gk for both Paric FC and Nigeria at only 23 years old, why not snatch her up? (if you can't beat her, buy her)

4) Angel Mukasa

21 years old, still needs more experience but at her age, shes phenomenal

No data on her height but from eye tests, probably around 170-180cm

Excellent shot-stopping

Great positioning, never caught out of focus

Her distribution is a stand out trait, amazing at her age

Great composure, doesn't make rash decisions in stress

In the uwcl against barca femení, if it weren't for her, FC Rosengård would've conceded more than 7 goals, she was phenomenal in that game

Not my choice for a starting keeper but would be an excellent 2nd keeper until she gains enough experience to be 1st choice

5) Kerolin Nicoli

NWSL MVP 2023, NWSL Best XI First Team 2023, Runner up for NWSL Golden Boot 2023 (what more can i say 🤷🏽‍♀️ she's a baller)

Lethal in the attacking third, loves 1v1 duels, excellent dribbling

Unselfish player, will pass to a teammate if needed but also loves taking shots at goal too

Right-footed player but is excellent at the left

Versatile player, can play on the left and right (as a winger or midfielder), up top but also as a CM

Not much else to say except that she will be lethal in Arsenal's left hand side. Just imagine Karchaoui, McCabe and Kerolin on our left 😮‍💨

Other players that i will love at Arsenal but too unrealistic:

Naomi Girma

Merle Frohms

Misa Rodriguez

Stina Johannes

Antônia Silva

Jule Brand

Morgan Weaver

Ary Borges

Anyways, if you've actually read the whole thing, thanks! I'm quite disappointed with the lack of movements in this window so i've decided to write it here.

Do you agree with this list? Any other players that you will like to see at Arsenal as well? Lemme know i would love to here you thoughts! (pls refrain from hateful words, if you don't like this list at all. criticism is fine but keep it civil)

[silver-rings-and-rabbits]

I've just finished chapter 9 of Open Heart Second Year and wanted to share my thoughts at the halfway point (ch 10-11 are another world entirely). It's a long post and probably repeats all the arguments that have been made since the original release...but I'm gonna post anyway.

When Second Year started, I couldn't decide which romance route to take. I genuinely restarted the first chapter several times, but EVENTUALLY I settled on Ethan. And...I got bored. He was there all the time and I just didn't feel anything like I did in book 1 (the opera scene had me in a chokehold for a while). Meanwhile, Raf had apparently broken up with MC and had a new partner which was leaving me intrigued on how it would go (sweet naivety before I saw the ch 10 draft). So during the first hiatus, between ch 8-9, I replayed the whole lot for Rafael.

The difference is stark. For two people who aren't allowed to be together, MC and Ethan sure ended up spending a lot of time alone together. They sure held hands a lot. MC sure had a lot of extra flirty dialogue. Yet Rafael appears briefly every couple of chapters to talk about how he would risk his life for another (I should have seen the signs sooner) then disappears back to his new partner that we still know nothing about. Most of the pining for Rafael was in my imagination and personal interpretation of the scenes.

Players were willing to justify this with 'Ethan is our boss' and 'we work on the same team so obviously they will spend time together'. Bryce and Jackie are our best friends or partners, Jackie is our freaking ROOMMATE and we don't see them at all?

Furthermore, we have two brand new characters in June and Baz and barely spent any time with them because Ethan had to be front and centre. I would have happily spent diamonds to get to know either of them one-on-one. But no...

An idea: instead of Ethan having a professional diamond scene every chapter (patient's house visit, visiting the art gallery, making a pictagram account), this is where June or Baz come in. Especially if Ethan also had a personal diamond scene in the chapter. Open Heart was popular because of its diverse cast after all (including Ethan, yes, but there was someone for everyone in book 1).

FURTHER furthermore, one of the 'plots' of this book was MC teaching their own intern, Esme Ortega. And we had a diamond scene to take her with us on Diagnostic work, a diamond scene to mentor her around six chapters later, and...a few quick scenes of MC giving her some work to do. That's it. Because even though being a mentor is part of MCs job, it's not nearly as important as Ethan's screen time.

I've played all four romance routes, and obviously Ethan's had the most content (his romance route v platonic route is night and day!!). Raf's route was completely empty to the point where it made sense to me that MC was in the hospital with Ethan all the time because they didn't want to spend their free time sitting at home nursing a broken heart. But Bryce and Jackie's routes had no reason for that. There's almost no reason to play the chapters without them and it's no surprise their fans started dropping away. All the signs pointed to one LI being killed off, but the other two didn't have anything to hope for either so why stick around?

Chapter 8 is the baseball game and we get to spend time with Bryce and Keiki, AND practice baseball with some friends. Probably the most friend group content we saw since the chapter 5 music festival. I enjoyed being rude to Landry (again, my MC is too stressed and upset at this point to spend energy being nice to him) but I didn't like how my response to him determined how the two sides interacted. Just because I'm rude to Landry doesn't mean I don't want to meet Sienna's med school friends at Kenmore. We then get to go back with Ethan for dinner or go home alone. I don't suppose it would have killed PB to put some kind of friend group scene in as an alternative? They did in book 1...

Chapter 9 is where the emotions really pick up as we have Kyra's cancer getting worse. Man, I love well-written angst. When MC is overwhelmed and has to calm down in a supply closet they are discovered by...June. Who at this point is becoming the villain (despite the fact this plot line would have only made sense if you were romancing 1/4 LIs).

Another idea: we get to choose which LI discovers us, just like in book 1! We could have a rare moment of softness with Jackie because it kills her that she can't help the situation. It could have been the catalyst for Bryce to look into radical gore-tex surgeries as a last resort. Or we could have had a painful heart-to-heart with Rafael, maybe MC being standoffish because he's their ex or open and desperately wishing Raf could comfort them as before. The possibilities are endless, but we can't waste time (or money) on those guys.

Speaking of Rafael, this is the infamous chapter ending:

Like a punch in the heart. But possibly what hurt more was the fact that chapter 10 opened with - of all things - a time jump to a few days later with the Senator coming to Edenbrook!! Because that's the Diagnostic team which is the only thing that matters! In fact, Rafael isn't mentioned until around two thirds of the way through when the narration - of all things - casually mentions that he is in fact moving to BRAZIL. More fool me, I thought he was just moving to another state, but no. Another freaking country. There is no way that would have been an easy conversation, especially on his romance route, but it's yet another conversation that happens OFF-SCREEN for the reader to be hastily informed later.

Book 2 began with a recap that omitted Rafael completely, despite the fact his superhero complex was going to be 'plot point' of book 2. Luckily he does appear in the next recap but this scene has been retconned with him saying 'I'm moving to Brazil' (if I remember to get a screenshot of that later, I'll post it).

PB tried to justify all this with 'Open Heart is a mature story...exploring themes of heartbreak and loss' (and some players will still believe that), but it never was. If it was, we would have seen the break-up between MC and Rafael, we would have been able to talk with Raf about his suspension in detail and how it was affecting him, and we would have SEEN THIS VERY CONVERSATION. But all the resources went into Ethan and his parents, Ethan and his morals, Ethan cooking a chicken.

I get it, he was a big moneymaker. I myself contributed once upon a time. But that doesn't justify throwing out the rest of your characters. (My school sold out my year group to get some money, and in doing so lost all credibility with a generation of girls). Like I said before, Open Heart was good because of ALL it's characters that we had grown to love and PB now wanted to chuck those out. Unless a LI had absolutely 0% interest, you write for them or you don't put them in the story (and we all know where that leads us: single LI books). Why alienate Bryce, Raf and Jackie romancers when, for all you know, they might be Sam Dalton's biggest fans? (The biggest book I can think of that was releasing at the same time as Open Heart). This whole thing was a stupid, stupid decision by PB and it has nothing to do with Rafael.

I hope there were people on the OH team who knew this was a bad idea from the start. I hope the higher-ups started sweating at the reactions to Sora and the ending to chapter 9, and I hope the smart ones on the team felt unbelievably smug about being right.

[ruvviks]

ok i always get a little stressed out trying to figure out what emojis to send for ocs that ppl havent sent already so please feel free to pick 5 emojis you haven't done yet that you wanna do for nathan with this ask!!! :^) <3

nathan asks!

🎻 VIOLIN — does your oc play any instruments? what is their skill level (beginner/intermediate/advanced/virtuoso/etc)?

nathan can play the violin! he was taught back at the jdc he had to stay in for a few years and despite hating it back then, he will occasionally pick it up again nowadays as a way to relieve stress. he's a pretty advanced player and occasionally comes up with his own stuff too, but it's not something he boasts about at all. if anything it's a hidden talent he never mentions to other people to begin with

💤 SLEEPING SIGN — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits?

nathan is a very light sleeper but he can also easily fall back asleep when woken up by something. whenever he does slip into deeper sleep he tends to have very bad nightmares or gets sleep paralysis due to the longterm effects STEM has had on his psyche. he's not all that bothered by noises or light around him and could fall asleep easily in a room full of people; he will get woken up the whole time but is not bothered by that either, and can generally get a good amount of rest with it either way

he sleeps about six hours a night on average, which is not a lot and tends to be even less when he's working on an important project. all of this generally results into him being out of commission during the weekends which he tends to spend in bed for most of the time, albeit wide awake. later on when he gets some proper medication, he starts sleeping a lot more and ends up with an average of nine hours a night

🔺 RED TRIANGLE POINTED UP — does your oc know how to use any weapons?

as a mobius operative from a pretty high rank, nathan has been taught how to use any sort of weapon, ranging from smaller melee weapons to heavy assault rifles and the like. he's been training since the age of 16 and generally prefers knives and handguns over anything else; he likes the control it gives him

🚫 PROHIBITED — does your oc drink/smoke? do they do it regularly, or is it more on occasion or for special events?

nathan is not much of a smoker, but he did smoke for a while when working for mobius. he quit pretty quickly since he's always been a drinker and the two together made very expensive habits, and he preferred the taste of alcohol over smoking. the drinking is still a problem as of this day and it's never really occurred to him that he can try to stop; it would be very hard for him to quit drinking if he ever gets to that point, but especially when he gets his medication he has no other choice but to quit. needless to say it's gonna be an interesting first month for him

🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace?

nathan was born in sacramento, california, which in my canon of the tew franchise is close to krimson city. he moved to the latter when he was 16 years old and started working for mobius, since its headquarters would then be closer to his home. he doesn't like his hometown at all because of the memories of his family and hasn't been back there in a long time now, and he's not planning on ever going back; krimson city may be a shithole but he's made it his home, and he's planning on staying there for the rest of his life. however many years that may be

[eagle-eyes-sideblog]

Icarus in a Gilded Cage

Summary

An AU of SAMAU that follows a Player named Lilith. It diverges from the original quite early on, when the Auditor decides to kidnap him and Lilith reacts... poorly.

More details on Lilith (any pronouns btw), the world they come from, and the general course of the story under the cut.

Lilith is a living weapon, stripped of faer purpose after being revealed as a deity's chosen. Frustrated and prohibited from fighting, they find different ways to relieve their stress. One of his new interests is watching Madness Combat and playing Project Nexus.

Her personality quickly endears her to her vessels. Although vir aim is... lackluster, ve makes up for it with sheer enthusiasm and bloodlust. Their strategic mind isn't half bad, either. And thus the AU begins as usual... until, of course, Lilith is actually brought to Nevada.

The Auditor decides to intervene after Lilith mysteriously vanishes. Unbeknownst to him, xe's been on the run for the last few months, and xe are not happy with being put in another cage.

Violence ensues. I have two ideas for how this goes from here, one where Lilith stays and one where it leaves.

If Lilith leaves, voi does so immediately. She is absolutely furious, and more than a little terrified that the Employers will trap her again. So he escapes into the wild and lives on his own for a while.

I imagine ve's very, very cautious at first. They aren't quite sure if they can trust... well, anyone here. And it's used to being on its own for months at a time, especially in hostile territory; there isn't an urgent need for allies.

However, eventually her lack of direction starts to get to her. He decides to try and carry out the original story. Fae begins by contacting 2BDamned, hoping to join as some kind of mercenary—the one-man-army fae was created to be.

I have no ideas past this point. At least for now. Sorry!

In the one where he stays, he's closest to Stygian. Their respectful mannerisms make fae much more trusting of them; they are the first Employer (and, if fae has faer way, the only Employer) who learns about what Lilith is and what that means.

Which reminds me: I should probably explain that in a bit more detail. Along with some more worldbuilding.

See, Lilith is some kind of magical/biological construct, designed for a very specific purpose. Like other living weapons, they're very efficient in energy use; they can go without eating or sleeping for weeks at a time with very few negative effects. Its biological aspects mean it can operate very independently on the battlefield, unlike actual machines. He can make his own repairs, and he gradually heals over time.

As for specifics... She's a close combat fighter. Xir small frame (well, compared to others like xem) make xem nimble and extremely fast.

Each living weapon is assigned a handler. Lilith's relationship with her own is somewhere between parental and military. Fae refers to them as faer commander. Lilith feels betrayed by them, but even so, he misses them dearly.

And what happened that made Lilith feel so betrayed? Well... Being a deity's chosen means that it's no longer allowed to fight. They're considered 'too valuable' to risk. It makes her feel weak, fragile, as if she can't take care of herself. Ve doesn't need to be protected, and yet everyone insists that ve does. Eventually, xe can't take it any more. He decides to break free from the gilded cage he's trapped in.

This is why she reacts so poorly to the Employers' attitude towards her. :D

[ifritcookie]

I quit CR:K about a month ago. This blog will be on indefinite hiatus as a result. I may reblog some fanart now and again but expect minimal posts for the foreseeable future.

Why'd I quit? Game's unplayable.

(Below is my rant/vent on the matter so have a read more cut. Ye have been warned.)

CR:K has had notorious lag issues, especially on iOS devices, for over a year now. It's had crashing issues for almost as long. I first noticed the crashing properly around the BTS event; it was about once every 15 minutes back then. An affront to any reasonable game developer, but... tolerable. By Triple Cone Cup, that time was down to 2 minutes. By Legend of the Red Dragon, one minute. World Exploration could no longer be done, as loading into it prompted an instant crash. By Summer Soda Rock Festa, I could no longer load into the game at all. I can't play on my phone even if I wanted to; I HAVE to use an emulator.

I have submitted support requests. I have submitted feedback tickets. So many people have done the same. The issues remain and continue to get worse and worse with every update.

Cookie Run: Kingdom is a mobile game. My phone isn't new by any means but I keep it in good condition and it can run every other game, including similarly "beefy" ones, without crashing. But even emulators running on good computers struggle with CR:K these days.

It's been obvious for months that testing isn't being done properly and content is just being cranked out for money's sake. Bugs that should be caught immediately (titles shifting out of place on the arena loading screen comes to mind) continue to happen. Assets are breaking in old areas of the game. Pre-existing memory leaks remain unfixed. Crashing and lag plagues more and more players. Nothing is done to try and fix any of this. And yet Devsisters has the manpower to develop and release multiple brand-new games on top of it all? It's just... it's a slap in the face, really.

I stuck around solely for my guild, but CR:K is just a waste of my time at this point. No other game crashes so much; my bar for "playable" is on the FLOOR and it cannot meet it. I miss my guild dearly; I led it for over a year and knew some of my members for even longer. We hit Grandmaster III for the first time in our last season. It was best to quit while we were ahead, given everything. I'm still so proud of all of them.

I was once a paying player, because I LOVED this game despite its flaws. It felt like it had heart and like they cared. What happened to the DevNow's and the spirit? Yes it's more p2w now, but it goes beyond that for me. They took a good game and they ruined it, due to their own negligence.

When I started playing, I promised myself I'd only play so long as it was fun. It's not fun anymore. I leave more frustrated and stressed than I started. So I quit.

I won't be returning to playing until they fix all those critical issues -- if even that. They'll certainly never be getting my money again. Other developers deserve it more.

For those who continue to play, I ask you to vouch for your friends having lag and crashing issues (especially if you're crash-free). It'll affect you too eventually. All the people that said "well maybe it's just your device" to me a year ago are having the same problems now.

Oh, and PSA: check your battery health if you have an iOS device. Mine went from (literally) "100%, in perfect health" to "hey you need to get this replaced" in 6 months, solely from playing CR:K. Thanks, I hate it :)))))))

[writing-portfolio]

How do Artists and Writers Portray Escapism in Their Works?

Reality has always been an overwhelming experience, but over the past few years the amount of incredibly stressful events in the world have skyrocketed. The real world is insane. It's reasonable that we would come to rely on technology and stories as a brief respite. Whether it's Spending a few hours immersed in video games or getting lost in a book, almost everyone has indulged in escapism to some degree. Where things get interesting is when the media starts to form an opinion on us escaping into it. 

Dana Terrence’s Disney Cartoon, "The Owl House", tells the story of Luz, a neurodivergent and queer teenager who finds herself in a magical realm of witches and demons. She was meant to go to a summer camp to help her become more “normal” but instead spends the summer on the Boiling Isles, also called the Demon Realm. Here she has no trouble making friends, something she has always struggled to do in the Human Realm. She is also free to  express herself when doing so previously had always led to bullying from her peers. But when the summer ends she is forced to acknowledge her real life and the impact her absence has made on reality. By the end of the series, Luz has found a way to balance her life in the Demon Realm with her life in the Human Realm. 

Luz is a character who is very special to me and who I have a lot in common with. I would jump into that portal to the Demon Realm in an instant. Escapism is very appealing to kids who might feel alienated, especially in situations like school. The idea of being able to spend time in a world full of dragons, friends, and magic definitely sounds better than monotonous reality. For Luz, the Demon Realm is a chance to do what she wants with her life and be supported and understood while doing so.

"Deltarune" is a visual novel and RPG video game by Toby Fox. Similarly to Luz spending time in the Demon Realm, two of “Deltarune’s” protagonists, Kris and Susie, go on adventures in Dark Worlds. These Dark Worlds are filled with friends, puzzles, and magic. Both Susie and Kris are deeply neurodivergent coded and are both canonically queer. Susie also seems to have a very unstable home life. In the Dark Worlds these things are accepted or fade into the background. Each Dark World is designed around a common means of escape, like imagination or the internet.

There are a few concerning details in the game that condemn escapism, like two characters from the Dark Worlds. The first, Jevil, has seemingly lost the ability to tell the reality apart from games. He is completely disconnected from reality. The second, Spamton, is similar. He views the world as a game and does not view other people as “real”. Spamton has become lost in the endless void of the internet. He, like Jevil, has completely dissociated. These two characters may represent people who took escapism too far and lost touch. 

Videogames are themselves a common means of escape, so "Deltarune’s” theme is very much informed by its medium. No matter how you choose to play the game, escapism is always present. One route of the game, the Weird Route, casts escapism in a very negative light. In this route, Kris uses the excuse of unreality to emotionally manipulate and abuse Noel, a character who otherwise becomes close friends with Kris and the rest of the party. In the other routes of the game, escapism is only condemned indirectly through vague dialogue and characters like Spamton and Jevil.  

An RPG’s ability to tell different stories informed by hundreds of tiny choices that the player makes lends itself to portraying different degrees of escapism as a maladaptive coping mechanism. The player’s involvement in the story also makes any morels or themes present seem more personal. "Deltarune’s” theme of escapism is woven into every part of the game.

Another text with a strong theme of escapism is Neil Gaiman’s “Coraline”. In the book, Coraline, a young girl who is discontent with her life, finds a huge door in her parlor. It leads to a world not quite like her own. Everything is the same but slightly off. Everyone has buttons in the place of their eyes and uncanny valley features. At first, Coraline is willing to ignore this because the Other World is interesting and has delicious food and fun clothes. But the bloated rotten underbelly of the Other World quickly becomes apparent to Coraline. Inorder to stay in the Other World, she must stitch buttons into her eyes. By permanently stitching her eyes closed, Coraline is actively choosing to ignore everything disturbingly wrong with the Other World and accept its illusion of perfection. 

This text’s examination of escapism is definitely darker than the previous two. Coraline’s attempts to escape her real life are clearly shown to be maladaptive. Coraline realizes immediately that something is off in the other world but basically keeps going back there out of boredom. At one point the Other Mother, The book’s antagonist,  says “Nothing’s changed. You’ll go home. You’ll be bored. You’ll be ignored. No one will listen to you, really listen to you. You’re too clever and too quiet for them to understand. They don’t even get your name right.” (Gaiman, 64). As the Other Mother becomes more controlling, people in Coraline’s real life begin to disappear. Her parents and eccentric neighbors slowly disappear from her already remote community and soon Coraline has completely isolated herself. 

Being a novel, Coraline’s internal monologue is made clear to us. We can see her thought process and quickly become attached to her. Coraline is younger than the escapees of the previous two texts, but is maybe the most aware of what is happening to her. Her experience with the Other World is much like that of someone who has become dependent on escapism or disassociation and is trying to recover. Every time she thinks she has returned to reality she is dragged right back into the Other World. 

The Other Mother is the root of Coraline’s peril. Similar to how you can't get rid of a coping mechanism like maladaptive escapism before you have fixed what you are escaping from, Coraline cannot escape the Other World until she has defeated the Other Mother. 

“Coraline” casts escapism in a very negative light, but only in extreme contexts. Coraline loves make-believe and TV. She pretends to be an explorer. She makes up stories and has a very active imagination. These are all shown to be good things. It is only when Coraline tries to entirely escape from her reality that the text decides that her escapism has gone too far. 

The article “Why Escapism Can be Harmful” discusses why escapism can be a dangerous coping mechanism, like it is in “Coraline”. Lyn Reed, the author of this article and licensed therapist, discusses how constantly avoiding our struggles through escapism stops us from actually improving our lives. She describes people who rely too heavily on social media as a form of escape as addicts. Relying on escapism can lead to things like dissociative disorder, a separation from yourself or from reality. “The ultimate goal of escapism is the destruction of self” she states (Why Escapism Can be Harmful, Reed).

This is an informational text based on a pervasive issue trying to offer support to those affected. Unlike the other texts chosen, it is not an artistic exploration of an issue, but a resource trying to help actual people who struggle with it. Because of this, it is a lot more critical of escapism as a coping mechanism, but it also offers support to those who use it. Reed suggests doing things like spending time face to face with friends to begin to overcome the need to escape from your life. She makes a clear distinction. “Not all escapism is bad for you. It is important to identify why you need to escape. If you are running away from reality then the consequences are not likely to be good. But if you are accessing another world in order to gain some insights to bring back to this one – well, that IS good.” (Why Escapism Can be Harmful, Reed).

This is a distinction that can be found throughout all of these texts. In “The Owl House”, Luz’s arc required her to switch the mindset of her escapes to the Boiling Isles from “running away from reality” to “gaining insights to bring back” (Why Escapism Can be Harmful, Reed). This was not an easy journey for her. Dana Terrence clearly understood this distinction and incorporated it into her show. The same goes for “Coraline”. Imagining that you are a famous explorer for a day is good, but running away to the Other World is not. Toby Fox makes a similar distinction in “Deltarune”. Having fun in a Dark World is ok, but be careful not to end up like Jevil or Spamton. It's ok to check out from reality for a while. Just remember that the real world will still be there for you when you're done, with all of its problems, insanity, overwhelming anxiety, and messy, painful, real, beauty. 

[nutravibes]

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[lunarfortune]

okay im just gonna type some shit for the moment or whatever but elise mf origin post because it's super funny to me

long rambly post with a bunch of card game images

anyway way back in like 2020 and early 2021 Legends of Runeterra had its Lab of Legends mode. Similar to Path of Champions but like, way more basic since it was the earlier version. You pick a champ and fight through a series of 9? stages or so, theyre all the same each time, with the bosses being Thresh, Sejuani (FUCK Scargrounds stage) and Viktor (and FUCK Guard Bots stage too). Each first clear with a champ would grant you a unique player icon for them, but I wasn't super concerned with collecting them all, I really just wanted Miss Fortune. The problem was that her starting deck is kind of Not Great and it's especially easy to get reamed by bad rng and her ability is straight up a hindrance against Scargrounds. I was having so much trouble with MF runs it was unreal. My friend cleared it relatively quickly, but I could not for the life of me get a good run going. I struggled with it on and off for WEEKS. I was just resigned to never clearing it.

So one fateful day in February of 2021 I am going through yet another MF lab run and get offered a choice between Zoe, Elise and Jinx as my deck's support champs. Fuck it, I'm thinking, just take Elise for laughs, who gives a shit anymore.

While I'm playing I'm shitposting on discord with a friend and making jokes about the whole thing, and we all know what happens when you make jokes. Didn't win that run but within a day it did get the gears in ye olde brain turning.

(i've now had this sitting in drafts for a month btw LOL i forgor)

The next month I'm starting up yet another run, and at this point I'm so demoralized by my bad luck with this I'm just like, yeah okay whatever Elise again, I'm just gonna lose at Scargrounds again like always

So I'm just going through the motions with this run and being more excited about the loot I'm getting of the Empires of the Ascended event. Somehow got quite lucky through Scars and Sejuani because the ai wasn't pulling followers to play.

Like I really cannot stress how lackluster the rng through this run was, I was genuinely surprised I got through Sejuani lmao

I guess purely to spite me, this run makes it past Foundry and Guard Bots and gets to Viktor. It's.... dicey. Elise's spiders give me more fodder to keep the nexus safe but between Elise's support cards and Sarah's starting deck, I don't really have any big hitters if Viktor starts to beef up, and I was never able to pick up anything from round rewards.

The Ruination I picked up comes in an early draw and comes in handy, clearing the board. I'm in the damn trenches clutching my spiders and fighting for my life. Another Viktor comes out, I draw a second Ruination and pop it. Viktor plays a Nyandroid.

He doesn't seem to have anything else to play. With both Sarah and Elise leading the charge, I attack.

Finally, finally, after so many attempts, I was FREE. Love fucking wins. Sarah's Love Tap took out the 5/1 bot that would have killed Elise during the Guard Bots stage. These champs speedran enemies to lovers through a month of me suffering through to get my first clear. I was utterly bewildered.

So anyway thats the story of how Elise/Miss Fortune was kind of a joke and then not a joke and I have given very serious consideration as to how they could encounter one another and how that would go.

Elise Does make trips to Bilgewater btw, thanks Ruined King!

[kenmaiii]

adding onto this a little with some KenBarbz splatoon AU headcanons since i realize no one can stop me (feel free to ask me abt the other characters in splatoonverse tho -w-):

difference in their playstyles is that Kenma gets real sweaty (ie plays way too competitively), meanwhile Barbs doesn't even try he's just really good without thinking about it at all

Kenma loves to charge in head first unfortunately.., so while she can hold her own she def has to be supported for acting recklessly

Kenma always goes into Salmon Run with random players hoping for the best. it rarely works out. especially during Big Run

Barbatos never does random games because at the first sign of disappointment he stops playing altogether. but he's always gonna do his best AND make it look effortless at the same time, but it's too much stress to constantly be covering everyone.

I can imagine Barbs going "Alright well, that is enough." after one two many rounds lost. he has more productive ways to spend his time!!!!!!!

if Kenma is forced to properly team up with three other people in Salmon Run her first picks are always Barbatos, Mammon and Levi

(besides being Kenma's bestie) Mammon to me just seems like the kind of guy to go in with high energy and do his best, even if he gets a bit too smug for his own good. His greed and willingness to show off has him bragging about collecting the most eggs (even tho its very much not likely). And he's just happy to earn some extra dough besides helping out! (he gets cornered by salmonids a lot unfortunately tho)

I don't know why but I feel like every time the rewards suck Mammon has to be talked out of complaining to Mr. Grizz. He definitely hordes eggs in one area for too long and spams 'this way' though.

Barbatos is very efficient with staying on task and not getting cornered often. He just seems like he'd be pretty good support! Just don't make him be the only one that has to carry everyone round after round! He won't comment on it outright or even very often, but he'd feel annoyed having to do so.

He's the guy that hears someone Booyah at the start of a round, pauses for a moment consideringly, then cheers back as means of encouragement. Don't spam it and get right to work on collecting though. If you spam it he's leaving you die for most of the round and leaving the lobby right after.

and Levi because I feel like he actually plays the game in Obey Me's canon? Like you go into his actual room I think he would genuinely be playing it.

I feel like it was alluded to before maybe.... but also he's just such a gamer. The guy owns a switch and Splatoon is very popular in JPN so I wouldn't put it past the devs (not saying the devildom takes place in japan, just giving a nod to where its creators are from and the influence there).

But yeah, AU Levi! I also think that he gets really sweaty in game so in this AU he'd just know what to do pretty well. Is the kind of guy to know what SR rotation it will be just by hearing audio cues. Or he'll have pretty good guesses as to where enemies might spawn. Knows all the secret tips and tricks like staying on the wall during Glowflies etc etc. He shows off for funsies sometimes

His weakness would probably just be occasionally getting overwhelmed by enemies if he focuses too much, or someone like Mammon accidentally leads too many things his way

When they all work together though! dream team!

Also I was chatting with someone awhile back I think that Barbs would be good at pretty much any weapon! mainly snipers tho

Mammon seems like a dualie squelcher weapon kinda guy but it was discussed that he might enjoy the slosher/bucket types! guys that roll into the water on accident tho

levi also seems very much like a sniper guy,, perhaps the scope. i just also feel like he'd learn the hardest, stupidest or most annoying weapons out of personal spite. get him the bamboozler and he will make it work somehow

power duo on one team, mortal enemies when they are against each other 🦑🐙

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[tommyspeakycap]

Not mates

pairing - jack grealish x reader

word count - 3577

summary - after the euro final loss, jack realises its time to go back on what he said about being friends last week

second part to this fic

Your heart seems to have fallen into a pit in your stomach. Of course there was the acceptance and the joy for Italy’s win, but your boys were devastated that it even had to go to penalties in the first place and now to lose them was just shattering. Your immediate first thought is Saka. He’s young and you know he’ll be feeling the brunt of taking that last penalty and having it caught by the Donnarumma. So he’s the first one you go to, arms encircling the boy who had become like your younger brother. He holds onto you almost as tightly, burying his face into your neck from the second Gareth lets him go. Of course it's always good to hear the okay from the coach, but to have you hold him and tell him you were proud of him no matter what, but saying nothing else was something a little better. He needed that family like hold. The encouragement, but also just pure love and kindness.

The boys start to crowd shortly after and you manage to slip off the side to escape being caught in the middle of a crushing huddle.

Jack doesn’t seek you out after this game like he usually did. In fact, he wouldn’t even look your way. The Brummie boy stays his distance as far as he can and just about every time that you get anywhere near him, he engages in a hug with someone else or moves away completely.

That shattered your heart.

The whole game had been a complete and utter nail biter. So much so that you actually already had no nails left to bite by the time Jack was subbed on and you actually felt nauseous with how ecstatic you were for him. His heart was sufficiently warmed by your level of unembarrassed cheering when he was being put on and not one member of the team had anything to say when you kissed his cheek and wished him good luck before he went on, yet again being the one person to over-emphasise your belief in him as you put that hair band into place.

Knowing this would be the last day of your fixed term contract working with them was such a relief. Knowing that you would no longer have to hide the way you felt about the floppy haired midfielder who was your academic opposite and yet still adored listening to your educated rambles about things he tries to understand only for you was also a relief. He was so important to you. He had given you a new lease of life and his very easy going, laid back nature had given you something of a new outlook on life. He viewed pressure as a privilege, something he was proud to have earned in his life. Every sky was his own shade of blue and he was unapologetically Jack. Then he stepped on the pitch and his jokes, his worries, his stresses, strife and joys were lost to his mind. He doesn’t think about anything but winning and being the best that he can be to give back to those who have always believed in him. Part of you knows that's why you adore him so much. It’s certainly why you love watching him play so much, especially today.

That is, until he went down.

You were off your mark before you even got the ‘free to go’ gesture from the team, feet carrying you flying across the pitch with a bag you scooped up en route held in a white knuckle grip. Stomps like that have everything potential to be incredibly injurious and potentially fatal in the wrong circumstances. Your knees ache beneath those now wet and dirty track pants that the entire team had been issued with in the way you throw yourself down onto them. The wet grass seeps water through the material, Italian players bumping and bashing you as they try to get around you to the referee. You might be breathing heavier than Jack is as your heart thunders in your chest. Seeing him there, teeth firmly grit as he hisses groans from behind them, turning to bury his face into the grass for another cry of pain. “Hey, oi Jack! Look at me. Are you alright?” You yell over the roars around the stadium, leaning your ear down closer to him to hear whatever he might say - or not say - in response.

“Fucking hell!” He roars, neck strained as his veins bulge with the force of the pain he was trying to fight. The inner thigh is an incredibly sensitive part of the body and even small injuries can feel huge, but huge ones like taking a fucking studded boot stomp from height onto the ground would be absolutely agony. You don’t know if he even heard you, but you took his cry as an answer enough to move away from his face to look down at his leg. There are some very evident, immediately bruising variety round marks over the inside of his thigh, some already leaking blood. You can hear the rest of the pitch side medical team pounding their shoes across the grass to assist you as you rip open a packet of alcohol wipes and a gauze pad. It seemed to only be at that moment that you realised how quickly you had moved to get here considering they were so far behind you.

Jack had stopped screaming in pain, so that freed up your head enough to give you some vital thinking space to clear the emotions from your mind and focus fully on cleaning his injury. Jack won’t come off, that much you do know. So it’s all about stopping the bleeding and cleaning as physically quickly as possible. That’s why you handed the alcohol wipes and gauze over to the medical guys as soon as they arrived to continue where you left off while you moved onto assessing any potential muscle injury to his upper thigh.

“Can you lift your leg up for me Jack, then pull it in and straighten it again?” You yell to him, his head raised off the ground as he lies on his back to look up at you. He does as you told, but not without hissing in pain when he does. You feel carefully around the markings, massaging the muscles gently with a look of concentration on your face that Jack physically could not take his eyes off of. Watching you work was the most fantastical thing he had ever known. Brows furrowed almost enough to crease your forehead - but not quite. The rain was soaking through your hair and sticking your England team shirt to your body. Jack suddenly wants to get up, suddenly feels much more like he can get up. Those shirts aren’t so concealing when they’re as wet as yours now is and he doesn't want anyone to be seeing you through that shirt. But neither that fact or the rain bothers you, the wetness doesn’t deter you and not even the screaming of incessant fans or bumping and barging of Italian players does a thing to make you look anywhere but his legs.

“It looks alright from my perspective,” you lean into your colleague to speak into his ear and he nods, turning to convey the message onto the other doctor on his right. “We cleaned him out, he’s clear from us too.” He yells back to you. You nod, pushing yourself to your feet to finally release a heavy sigh of relief that you had been holding back until you got the all-clear that he was fine. It would have destroyed him to have to come off now.

He grabs one of your hands and one of the medics in order for the pair of you - though admittedly more so the other medic - to tug him up to his feet. He stumbles briefly, then meets your eyes. You lean in quickly, pulling his shoulder to tug him towards you as you raise on your tiptoes to mumble “Give ‘em hell, Grealish.” Right into his ear before pulling back and walking off with the rest to allow for the game to continue.

The memory was one it would take you a while to forget. This was your first time working in a major football tournament and you kind of hadn’t really grasped the extent of the aggression that could sometimes come hand in hand with the intense matches. You hadn’t ever seen a player studded before and you had never seen a person you loved rolling around screaming in pain before either. That was taking more of a toll on your emotions than the fact that they had lost the game really despite the fact he was completely and utterly fine bar a little bit of pain in his leg and broken hearted for the loss.

With one leg across the other, you lean against the white post of what had been Jordan Pickford’s first half goal with your temple against the cool metal. The team had been given their medals and Italy were running around doing laps of honour with their trophy. The boys were busy seeking out their families, hugging loved ones for the first time in nearly two weeks. It was painful for so many different reasons. You didn’t have any family here, no one to go to to hold or have hold you. You usually wouldn’t have minded, the game loss wasn’t the world's biggest deal to you, but the thought of your time with this team being over and subsequently your time with Jack being over was something that you did feel you might need a tight hold to help with.

“So she’s the one you’ve not stopped talking about then, J?”

Jack whips around, having not heard the footsteps of his mother reappearing behind him where he stood on the concrete steps of Wembley stadium with his back to his friends, family and his team and their friends and family. He’d given everyone their hugs, tried to take on board their complements and promises that they were proud of him no matter what. He had done everything he had to do, given everyone their greeting and told them how much he missed them. The man had thought that would do something to ease his aching heart. He had missed his family more than he’d ever known, an aching emptiness that had settled in his bones as days passed without being able to see them in person.

That emptiness had been filled by the all-encompassing arms of his mother, father, brother and two little sisters. And yet still, an aching absence was felt in the place where his heart had once been so warm in their presence. He had a feeling his mum was about to weigh in on that.

He was watching you as she appeared beside him with a comforting hand rubbing over his back just like she used to do when he was a boy and can still comfort him with to this day. Her eyes have landed on exactly who he was staring off into the distance after, still standing down there on the pitch by the goalpost with your back to the side they were on, looking up into the opposite stands from where Jack and his mother stand. “What?” Jack asks his mother, her words not fully registering in his distant mind. He often got lost in thinking of you.

“The girl,” Karen repeats, “I’m assuming she’s the one you’ve been telling us all about on your video calls?” She smiles, and he attempts to offer one back when he looks at her, but it falls short and leaves his face before it was even ever really there. She knows he’s hurting because of the loss, but sure as any mother knows their child, she knows his heart is hurting for a different reason and she can only imagine that has something to do with you.

It started with drops here and there right at the beginning of their squad call up - during the qualifiers before they had to commit to being away from their families and staying in the camp without seeing anyone outside of that bubble for pandemic reasoning. Comments about how you had given him the best sports massage he had literally ever had in his life and he had left feeling like every single muscle in his body was singing in joy. Then here and there statements about you being the best physiotherapist the team had ever had and his family had picked up on the fact that your name had begun to pop up in several of his funny camp tales.

Then official camp started and he basically hadn’t shut up about you. Apparently you were funnier than even John McGinn and Jack was never done raving about how funny his best mate was. Jack would tell stories about your jokes that trailed off at the end with “…yeah, funnier in person though.” or tell stories that you had told him and his family didn’t quite follow but they just adored the happiness that bounded through their screen when he got to talk to them about everything exciting he was doing at the camp and then rave about how fantastic this (y/n) was.

“Yeah, she’s the one.” Jack responds, his voice just about as distant as his eyes are as he looks out to you. Karen can’t really tell if Jack’s agreeing with her that you’re the correct person or if he’s making a statement of fact in a different way. If the videos she’s seen and the way her son talks about you is anything to go by, then you seem like a very genuine sweetheart. The kind of girl a mother hopes for her son to find. “Should’ve seen the way she ran to you when you went down earlier, J.” She says softly, fighting back a grin on her lips. She obviously did not like seeing her son go down like that and watching him in pain broke her heart, but watching you - a girl she’d never met - sprint out onto that pitch faster than she’d seen any of those players run all night absolutely warmed her heart.

She watched on the big screen as it had zoomed in on the scene, your eyes filled to the brim with unadulterated worry and sheer panic.

“Really?” Jack breathes, eyebrows quirked as he finally takes a glance at his mother. His eyes leaving you for the first time properly in that conversation. She nods, “Yep. Like a bloody whippet she was.”

Jack chuckles softly to himself, dropping and shaking his head with a smile. “She’s special.” he says, his voice quiet and careful. Karen gets a pang through her heart watching her boy like this. He’s just absolutely smitten. “She were always the first one telling me she were proud, telling me I’d smash it. And she’s bloody pretty.”

Jack’s mum finally meets his eyes with a shake of her head and raised eyebrows, “And yet she’s standing down there in the freezing cold all alone while you’re up here.” She maintains her motherly challenging stance, arms crossed over her chest after she gestured to you with her head standing down there rubbing your biceps with your hands to create some heat for yourself under the still damp England crew top you wore. Jack looks between you and his mother and then his family who are still celebrating together with the rest of the families a few rows behind them with most all the fans having cleared out now. “But-”

“No ifs, no buts, no maybes.” His mother cuts in, “You go and get that girl, Jack, and then you bring her to meet me alright?”

Jack nods his head vigorously, offering his mother a soft peck on her cheek before he bounds down the steps as quickly as he can until he reaches the field again, the grass tickling at his socks through the sliders he now wore. He doesn’t stop for anyone, weaving his way in and out of Italian players whilst resisting the urge to trip a few of them as he passes through until he gets past them all and stops short.

His legs don’t seem to want to carry him a step further for the moment as he watches you, now leaning over the barricade talking to a little girl in an England shirt while you hold onto a ball from the game under your arm. His eyes sparkle with happiness as he watches you talk candidly with the little girl and her dad. He can just about hear her saying she wants to be just like you, do the job that you do to keep the team in perfect condition so that they can continue to play the way they do. He knows just how much that will mean to you because you’ve never really heard it before. You didn’t get into it for money or recognition, but it was still nice to have anyone appreciate the work you did behind the scenes.

You turn around to see what the girl's dad was now gawking at behind you and an immediate, subconscious smile takes over your lips. It's soft and slight but undeniably there as you meet his eyes. He offers you a small wave and a similarly soft, somewhat apologetic smile.

“You wouldn’t happen to be a fan of this one, eh?” You ask with a laugh, turning back to the little girl and gesturing over your shoulder with your thumb to the midfielder behind you with a heavy team coat in hand. The ten year old nods her head vigorously with shocked wide eyes that make you giggle. “I’ll be right back, then.” You hand the football over to the little blonde girl.

In a slight jogging manor, it doesn’t take you more than a minute to reach him from where he had stood admiring you.

“You look freezin’” He announces immediately, the coat being held out and open for you to slip your arms into with ease. The sigh of relief that leaves you as he zips it up tight tells him that you were as cold as you had looked. He smiles again, eyes dancing over your lips as one of his strangely warm hands find your cold cheeks, large palm heating the wind whipped surface of your face as his fingers tenderly land over wisps of baby hairs that had escaped from the confines of your ponytail and curled in the rain. “You wouldn’t mind doing me a favour for that little girl would you? Think she likes you.” You inquire softly with a hint of your sarcasm behind your otherwise shy and quiet tone. He finds a loving chuckle sneak it’s way past his lips. “Course.”

His thumb is soft and gentle in it’s smooth movements under your eye while the other hand lands over the material of the thick puffer jacket now covering your waist. “Thanks,” you hum softly, feeling that hand around your waist tugging you in closer as the one on your face is carefully increasing its hold to bring your head closer to his, so much so that he can feel the breath of your words hit his lips each time you speak. “Think she’s the only fan I’ve ever met who loves me.” You admit with a chuckle, the joy of the adoration she had for you evident in the sparkle of your beautiful eyes. Jack nods his head carefully, slowly and gently tilting it to the side only slightly as his hair falls over his forehead, once again tickling yours the closer he leans towards you.

His eyes are full of love while they scan over your face, taking in every freckle, dimple, dip, curve and detail of your skin. The crinkle around his eyes that his smile creates is even more beautiful up close, you notice. Then those beautiful earthy brown eyes meet back with yours, trickling down to your lips and back to your eyes again. “Suppose I best meet that fan then, seeing as we have such an important thing in common.” He murmurs, lips just about brushing against yours.

“And what’s that then, Jack?”

“Well,” he lulls, nose briefly nudging yours as his hand on your waist moves up to hold the bottom of your chin to tilt your head up with his thumbs making gentle strokes.

“Well I bloody love ya, don’ I?”

And that kiss that you both lean into the second his words leave his lips and enter onto yours speaks volumes more than either the slightly ditzy Brummie boy or you yourself in all your knowledge could ever articulate. The faint taste of blue powerade lingers on your lips even after as he pulls back ever so slightly with that cheeky half grin and twinkling eyes.

“So not just mates then?” You tease as his arms wrap tightly around you, chin resting down on top of your hair as he holds you with your arms wrapped around his waist and clasped tightly at his back. You feel his chuckle reverberating through you. Unbeknownst to you, he shoots a thumbs up to that little girl and her dad still waiting in the stands and mouths ‘two minutes’ over as they hold a phone pointed at him with a huge grins.

“No,” he affirms, his voice rumbling with a chuckle despite the cementing certainty in his tone, “Absolutely not just mates.”

[rebeccccccaaa]

ᴄᴀᴛ’s ɢᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ?

__________________________

ᴄᴀᴍ ʙᴏʏ/ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇ! ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀᴀᴜ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You have always been more modest not really ever having time to explore what could have been some sort of sensual alter ego and when Bucky finds out hes determined to bring the sex goddess in you out.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: slight fluff if you count flirty bucky, smut ofc (minors dni) [cam boy bucky (slight tipsy bucky and reader in the beginning); brief male masterbation (bucky has his door open during a session); fem!rec oral; hair pulling; spanking; real dirty talking; strong language, degradation; loss of virginity/ virgin reader but not innocent, touch starved reader, and overstim, overall pretty rough but aftercareeee]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: sorry in advanced if you don’t like iced coffee lol

_____________________________

“There’s no way; you’re such a fucking liar,” Bucky threw his head back with laughter.

“I knew I shouldn’t have fucking said anything,” you scoff, rolling your eyes before standing up with annoyance.

“No! Don’t go, come on. I didn’t mean it like that,” he chuckled.

“Yeah right,” you scoffed.

“Can I ask why?”

“I mean, honestly. I just never really had time. Although, I did avoid sweaty football players all of high school, but being in uni I just want to grind and grind, you know? Finish school and get my degree. I don’t really have much time going out and getting laid,” you explained.

“Shit, does my… ‘side job’ make you uncomfortable? I didn’t realize how you would feel about it being a vir-”

“Buck, I’m a virgin, not innocent,” you chuckled.

“Damn straight,” Bucky laughed.

“Let me help you,” he said, making you laugh out loud.

"With what?" you asked in disbelief.

"Let me take your virginity. 'S better than fucking some random drunkard in a one night stand, and let's face it, you're not getting a boyfriend anytime soon."

You couldn't help but keep laughing at what he was saying.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“You’re so full of shit, Barnes,” you snorted, too drunk to notice that Bucky wasn’t laughing.

“Offer stands whenever, pretty girl.”

That was four weeks ago.

Since then, you feel like the tension between you and your roommate was especially thick since your tipsy confession. You couldn’t tell whether the things Bucky would say now were intentionally inappropriate or you just had a dirty mind. He seemed to always be shirtless; always.

“Did all your shirts catch fire? No, they got stolen, huh?” you joked.

“Har, har. Don’t be such a prude, pretty girl.”

“I’m not a prude,” you mumbled; at least he had the muscles to flaunt.

One quiet Friday evening, you sat in your room working away at your desk. You had been at it for a couple hours and as much as you wanted to throw in the towel you were so close to finishing everything you needed to finish this weekend. You went to the kitchen to grab a snack, maybe make a coffee, before drilling for the last hour to get everything done.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Bucky said, standing with a glass of whiskey in hand. He always drinks before filming.

“Gettin’ ready for your… stuff?” you asked.

“What stuff?” he asked cheekily, making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I haven’t posted anything in a couple weeks and my subscribers are thirsty,” he told you.

“I can only imagine,” you joked.

“Well, baby, I’m in the next room if you wanna stop imagining,” he said flirtatiously

“Fuck off. I’m just here to get coffee,” you smirked, grabbing the things you’ll need from the fridge.

“Well, then I’ll leave you to it,” Bucky said, smacking your ass hard before leaving for his room; you scoffed rolling your eyes at his antics.

You turned around making the coffee itself mindlessly before you grew slight concern when you had yet to hear the door of Bucky’s bedroom to shut. He always kept his door shut whilst you wore headphones blasting music so you wouldn’t have to listen to his unnecessary moaning and cursing. You silently begged the machine to hurry it’s brewing as Bucky began talking and moaning to his audience.

You gritted your teeth hearing him so clearly. Your breathing quickened and you felt your cheeks heat up. You hated how you wondered if he really was as vocal in bed as he portrayed online. You hated the way your stomach flipped and the tingle between your thighs. You’ve never felt so aroused before, you didn’t know what to do.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, and you swallowed the dry lum in your throat.

You don’t even know how long you stood in the kitchen listening to Bucky. You were incredibly aroused, wetness pooling between your thighs. Your hands gripped at the counter desperate to not let your knees buckle as he got closer to his release.

“God, fuck you James,” you mumbled to yourself.

You couldn’t take it the groans he practically was screaming from his room. You stomped your way to his room to yell at him to close the door. You were enraged but you don’t really know why. Bucky’s side job never bothered so much until now and truthfully he wasn’t really to blame for how turned on you felt hearing him.

“Can you close the goddamn door?” you yelled approaching his bedroom.

“I hate to interrupt but I can fucking hear you- in the… kitchen,” you trailed off.

Bucky sat on his bed completely nude. His cheeks were red and his forehead had a layer of sweat as did his very smooth and very toned chest. Your body completely froze. It’s not that you hadn’t seen a man naked before. You’ve watched porn during the more stressful and lonelier nights, but Bucky was beautiful.

“Care to join?” Bucky breathed with a stupid smile.

“Jesus,” you gasped.

“I ain’t forget about that offer, pretty girl,” Bucky stood, chuckling when you visibly trembled.

“Whatcha say? You ready to finally deflower?” Bucky walked closer to you with a devilish smirk plastered on his handsome face.

“I’m sorry-” you stumbled over your words.

Your stomach fluttered from nervousness and arousal, your skin bursted into chills despite how hot and sweaty you were beginning to feel. You kept your eyes trained to anywhere but Bucky’s assets.

"What's wrong, pretty girl? Cat's got your tongue?" he teased.

"James," you said sternly.

"Baby, I can make you feel so good. All you have to do is say the word," he whispered in your ear, making you shudder.

You know deep inside you that this wasn't a good idea in the long run. It sounds so tempting now but what would happen afterwards? What would happen to your friendship?

"Stop thinking so hard. Just let me make you feel good, please," he begged.

His hands caressed your sides and you couldn't resist squirming; he hasn't even touched you.

"I can tell you're starving. Itching to be touched by someone. Those lonely nights with a laptop and your fingers isn't enough. I can help you, pretty girl. Give you so much and more; give you nirvana. Just say the word," he spoke slowly, sensually; you were damn near shaking just from his words.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what?" he teased; Bucky was drunk off the power he had over you.

"Fuck me. Use me. Ruin me," you begged.

"As you wish."

Bucky grabbed the back of your neck smashing his lips to yours. He grinded his hips into you and you feel his hard on digging into you. Your fingers dug into the soft skin of his chest leaving small red marks and scratches littered.

Bucky moved his hand up behind your head, curling his fingers in your hair pulling harshly. his lips instantly attached to your neck biting and sucking to mark you, so you remember he was the one who made you feel euphoric in the coming days. He wants you to remember this night.

"Shit, that feels so good," you sighed.

"That's just the beginning, pretty girl. Get on the bed," he demanded.

You scurried to bed tearing your shirt and shorts off leaving you in your dark lacey undergarments.

"It's like you were ready for me to fuck you," he chuckled darkly.

He crawled up the bed to you like an animal hunting and taunting its prey. You couldn't help but nibble on your bottom lip, anxious for what was to come from Bucky.

His hands gripped your waist firmly pulling impossibly close to his body. He kissed you again and you swore you could stay like that forever. His lips felt so soft again yours, you melted against his body from pleasure.

His hands circled your back and pulled at the bra clasp before swiftly undoing it and letting free. You shrugged your shoulders to your ears allowing the straps of the bra fall gracefully down your upper arm before Bucky curled his finger over the front and tossed it aside to admire your chest.

Your shoulders subconsciously caved in, embarrassed to be so unclothed in front of someone for the first time. Again, you weren't innocent but anyone would still be nervous for their first time. Bucky smiled softly at your timidness; his hands rubbing your sides slowly and comforting to help ease your nerves a bit.

"You are so gorgeous, baby."

"Don't get sappy, Barnes," you joked; but in reality you don't need another reason to fall deeper for him. Not that you're falling to begin with.

"Yes ma'am," he grinned.

He flipped the both of you over so you laid on your back. His hands gently kneaded your breasts pulling moans from you with every squeeze. He leaned down, taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting your perked buds, circling his tongue around. Your back arched into him and you think you can handle the pleasure but you find yourself involuntarily getting higher and higher. Moaning and gasping louder every time Bucky would bite down hard on your nipple. The last straw was when Bucky brought his fingers between your thighs and barely pressed against your aching clit that you fell suddenly over the edge crying Bucky's name.

"Did you just-"

"Fuck, I'm sorry! I don't know what happened. I- Everything just-"

Bucky cut you off with a deep kiss.

"Don't be sorry," he chuckled.

"It's really hot that I was able to make you cum by just playing with these beauties," he flicked your nipples and squeezed your breats making you tremble.

“Shit, too much,” you whined.

Bucky ignored you once again, dipping his head back down, flicking his tongue over your overly sensitive buds. The squeal you made made Bucky chuckle darkly but he didn’t want to torture you so his lips trailed slowly down the valley of your breasts to you belly and hip bones. His fingers curled over your panties dragging them slowly down your legs.

“Fucking hell, pretty girl. You’re dripping. You’ve just been aching for me to get my hands on you for a while, huh?” Bucky taunted.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Absolutely gorgeous.”

Bucky’s hands rested against your knees pushing them as far as they could go before diving in you like a starved man. Truthfully, Bucky had dreamed of this moment since he met you for the first time moving in. As the days, weeks, and years went by, the urge to resist kissing and fucking you stupid was getting all to much. But now he finally has you under him, at his mercy and he was determined to pleasure as much as he could before getting his cock anywhere near you.

Bucky brought his fingers to circle your entrance, waiting until your legs were nearly shaking from the teasing. As he pushed his fingers past your folds, he brought his mouth down again kissing right above your clit. You gasped and sighed in pleasure as he pumped his fingers in and out of you heavenly.

“Shit, feels so good. So, so good,” you moaned.

Bucky’s tongue brushed over your clit and you couldn’t resist bucking your hips, pushing his fingers deeper inside you. Your back arched off the bed and your hands shot to his head tugging on his dark locks harshly. Bucky’s moans from your tugs vibrated against you and you knew you weren’t going to last any longer.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum Bucky! Shit!” you shrieked.

“Come on, pretty girl. Be a good girl and come all over my fingers,” he said.

Seconds later, you reached your high, crying Bucky’s names again as if it was the only word you knew how to say. Your head practically dangled off the bed, scooting closer and closer to edge desperate to pull away from Bucky’s talented mouth.

“God, you’re beautiful when you fall apart like that,” Bucky mumbled against your heated skin.

Sweat lined your forehead and your chest, your hair was scattered across the sheets like a maniac, and your skin along your neck down to your inner thighs was littered with little bruises and bite marks from Bucky. You looked ethereal.

“One more. Can you give me one more?” Bucky asked softly.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

“Such a good girl. I know you can, come on.”

Bucky gently flipped your body over, laying you on your stomach. He kissed down your spine, whispering sweet and kind things to you. You can’t even register what he’s saying because his godly erection is poking your ass and you're practically aching again to be railed by him.

“So eager for my cock, aren’t ya? Already being such a greedy little whore.”

“Please, Bucky,” you begged, wiggling your ass against his crotch.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna fuck you so good; gonna ruin you for anyone else,” he whispered in your ear before biting on your earlobe.

He stood tall on his knees behind you gripping your hips, roughly pulling them flush against his pelvis; you pushed yourself up on your hands. He grabbed his aching cock, the tip red and leaking with precum. Bucky doesn’t even know how he was able to last so long without cumming but he did and now all he wants to do is cum deep inside you.

“Ready, pretty girl?” he teased, rubbing your cheeks softly with his hands.

“Fuck me good, James,” you moaned.

Bucky lined his dick with your entrance slowly pushing the tip past your folds. The burning sensation caused you to hiss and tense around Bucky, who instantly stopped his movements.

“No, it’s ok; you’re just bigger than I was anticipating,” you fussed.

“It’s ok. If it’s too much you tell me to stop,” Bucky told you.

“No, don’t stop, please!” you whined.

“Don’t get greedy,” Bucky warned.

“Think you can handle all of me?”

“Fuck,” you muttered.

He pushed his hips further in you slowly, careful to not hurt you. His hands ran slowly up your body before curling his fingers through your hair and pulling your head up. Once he bottomed out, he rested for a minute until you were ready for him to move.

“Holy fucking hell, baby. Feel so good wrapped around my cock, shit,” Bucky groaned above you.

“I feel so- full.”

“‘S like you were made for me, pretty girl.”

Bucky’s hips began to move faster and faster pulling moans from you that was music to his ears. Bucky relished in your sex. He used every ounce of willpower in him to keep control but you felt so heavenly, so sublime. He couldn’t hold back any longer. You could tell that Bucky was holding back and you didn’t want him to. He pleasured you twice already, it was his turn to feel good and if letting go would do that for him you would let him.

“Come on, Bucky. Fuckin’ ruin me!”

“Don’t say shit like that,” he grunted, still thrusting his hips.

“I can take it, baby. Use me,” you told him.

Bucky’s hips stilled only for a second before you felt a sharp stinging on your right ass cheek.

“You want me to fuck you like a whore? Fine, I will,” Bucky growled before pulling out and flipping you over.

Bucky rammed his hips into you fast and rough. His hand went to wrap around your throat squeezing the sides and your eyes rolled back. Tears brimmed your eyes and you cried out over and over again. You felt used, corrupted, violated. You love it.

“Fuck, yes!”

“Shit, I’m gonna fucking come,” Bucky groaned.

Bucky released your throat before dipping his head in the crook of your neck. His groans and moans were muffled by your skin. Your hands wrapped around his neck and your legs too wrapped around his torso pulling his body flushed against yours. Your nails ran down Bucky’s back; he breathed in sharply through gritted teeth before moaning loudly in your ear from the pleasurable sting.

Chasing his release along with yours, Bucky’s thrusts became relentless. Animalistic. Feral, even. Everything felt overwhelming. It didn’t take much longer until you felt Bucky’s stuttering thrusts and the spurts of warm cum coating your velvety walls. Bucky completely relaxed on top of you, his breath heavily hitting your sweaty skin. You scratched his back softly coming down from your own high breathing equally as heavily.

“You feeling ok, pretty girl?” Bucky asked quietly.

“Yeah,” you whispered with a stupid grin on your face.

“You did amazing, you know?” Bucky kissed you softly; your stomach fluttering at the action.

“What now?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Now, I’m going to take care of you,” Bucky said, hopping off you and the bed.

You laid there breathing slowly now. You didn’t have the energy to move at this point. Your inner thighs burned deliciously and the soreness began to be more apparent all over your body. Bucky came back with a warm towel and bottle of water from the kitchen. He cleaned you up with the towel and you could help the soft moans and whimpers that escaped from you. Once you were cleaned, Bucky helped you sit up and held the now open water bottle for you to hydrate yourself. You couldn’t shake the butterflies and chills you got from Bucky’s stare. He couldn’t take his eyes off you anymore; like you hung the moon and stars for him.

“What?” you asked shyly.

“Nothing,” he grinned.

“Come on. You’ve gotta go pee,” he said carrying you in his arms towards his bathroom.

“No, I just want to go to sleep already,” you whined, voice muffled in the crook of his neck.

Bucky sat on you on the toilet and waited for you to… do your business. You just sat there squirming, and shaking from the cold that hit your body.

“Come on. You have to,” Bucky explained.

“I know, but I can’t pee in front of you. I’m shy,” you mumbled.

“Seriously, I just fucked-”

“Bucky, please,” you cut him off.

“Oh alright. Come back to bed when you’re finished, pretty girl,” Bucky said before leaving you.

You couldn’t shake the smile off your face. He was being so caring and nice to you, it warmed your heart. You felt a bit of heartbreak however wondering if this was just a one time thing. You cleaned yourself again and washed your hands before snatching one of Bucky's t-shirts that laid on the floor. When you came out Bucky was fiddling with his camera that was still set-up and your heart dropped.

Had he recorded the whole thing?

“I was gonna delete all the footage, but in all honesty you look so fucking sexy. Might keep it for myself,” he said winking.

“You recorded the whole thing without telling me?” you asked, tearing up.

“I didn’t mean to. I’m not gonna post it anywhere. You sorta screamed my name a few times so footage ain’t good anyway,” he said, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Hey, hey. I’m kidding. I’ll delete all of it, I promise,” he cupped your face.

“Come here; I gotta do one more thing for you,” he said, laying you down on the bed once again.

“What are you doing?” Bucky grabbed another towel and some scented lotion placing it on his bedside table.

“I’m gonna give you a massage. You’ll be less sore tomorrow morning. I’ll admit I was a bit rough,” he said, kissing your belly as he lifted his shirt off your body.

“You do this to all the girls you sleep with?” you teased, not really wanting an answer but you’ll play a part if it keeps from being humiliated because of feelings.

“Only the pretty girls,” he says, fully referencing his nickname he gave you a while ago.

“And how many pretty girls might you have?”

“There’s only one,” he whispered; his hands massaging along your back slowly, sensually.

“She must be really lucky,” you whispered too, afraid of speaking too loud.

“If anything, I’d say I’m the lucky one.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, she’s… she’s perfect. Beautiful. Smart. I could go on about her.”

“She sounds like a prude,” you joked.

“She was,” he chuckled.

“But trust me, now she’s a real feisty and sexy woman,” Bucky said before biting down hard on one of your ass cheeks.

“Ow! Bucky!” you squealed, making Bucky laugh.

Bucky tossed the towel away and placed the lotion back on the bedside table before grabbing the blankets and crawling under them with you. He held you close, entangling his legs with yours, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“You mean all that?” you asked barely audibly.

“Yeah. I do, pretty girl.”

“You don’t have to delete the video,” you smirked, making Bucky laugh out loud.

He kissed your forehead snuggling closer to you, letting peaceful sleep envelop you both.

=============================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101-blog​

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

@cordeliaswhore

@fleurlovesbucky

@povsmarvel0720

@missroro

Bucky Barnes Taglist:

@stolenxkissess

@bucknastayyy38

[cozycryptidcorner]

Avery the Fae/Reader, Lemon

You don’t dress up for Halloween.

Not your fault, though, really, because your professors show no mercy for holidays, especially not ones that don’t land them a day off. Classes go on as usual, and so you wake up the latest you can without risking a tardy and go off in the comfortable clothes you slept in. Except for some cat ears and one superman, everything is perfectly normal, and the day passes like almost every other, save for a ‘spooky drink’ coupon at the local cafe.

I probably don’t even need a costume, anyways, you think as you catch your reflection when passing those special mirror-like windows on one of the campus’ buildings. Frankly, you look like you crawled out of hell itself. Dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep, hair all askew and uncooperative, mouth in a permanent stressed line.

A zombie, probably, you decide, taking a sip of that hot caffeinated mess you ordered from the cafe. A hot zombie, for sure, but a zombie no less. A part of you wants to skip your next class and take a nap, but you’ve already used up your one absence, and you aren’t in a position to risk your grade for sleep. No rest for the wicked, right? Right. Everything else goes as smoothly as can be expected for being sleep deprived, and the night class seems to drag on for a fully stretched eternity, but you are finally free to go home and do your five hours of homework. Maybe if you’re lucky, you can squeeze in two or three hours of sleep.

It’s because you’re tired, you think, stopping for a hot minute when you realize that you’re lost. You hadn’t been paying attention to campus’ many twists and turns in its paths, and so you must have wandered away from the buildings and onto the forest trail that hugs the dorms, except there’s no cement beneath your feet. Not even a dirt trail marks a way out, and you take a full moment to come to terms with being lost, on your own damn campus, no less. You aren’t any kind of simpering pansy, so you turn around and begin to retrace your steps. Which doesn’t work, unfortunately, because after a couple of minutes of walking, there’s nothing to suggest that you’re only a couple of paces from civilization.

Except a drum beat, behind you. It’s faint, probably a half-mile away, but it’s the closest thing you have to a way back, especially since your phone can’t seem to pick up any signal. Maybe one of the school’s many bands are practicing? Right, you’re just going to stumble out into the football field, twigs in your hair, looking very much like you’ve gotten into a fist-fight with the entire forest…

And… Not a band, you realize, stepping into a clearing, but a party.

A costume party, too, by the looks of it, with everyone in soft, flittery clothing and fitted masks. Interesting how everyone seems to be on the same page with the dress code, there’s usually that one dick who shows up in a hotdog suit, regardless of any previous agreements. Elegant is the word you’re looking for, you decide, running into something tall and solider, correction: running into someone tall and solid.

“Oh, hey, sorry,” you apologize, shifting your weight on either foot, “I’m a little lost.”

“I think that you are right where you want to be,” your stranger says, mouth turning up into a strange, fanged smile. His black mask is trimmed with gold, and it doesn’t seem like he’s costuming as anything specific; rather, it appears to be just for anonymity.

“I think I really want to be in bed,” you say, trying to share a mutual we’re in college and want to die of exhaustion moment, but he doesn’t respond with the same energy.

“Perhaps a drink of wine before you go?” He offers, holding out an actual goblet of some kind. Maybe the metal-working students pitched in? Or accepted a particular commissioned order? It looks like genuine gold, which adds to the whole aesthetic of the party.

“Uh,” don’t accept drinks you haven’t seen made, “I’m good for now, really. Just trying to get back home to study.”

“Hm,” he says, taking a good swig from the goblet he had just offered, “good question. Through the trees from whence you came, most likely.”

Of fucking course, he’s drunk and doesn’t know left from right. Great. What an excellent position you’ve put yourself in. Frustrated and confident he wouldn’t roofie himself, you snatch the goblet from his hand and down several large gulps of shockingly sweet wine, maybe a sangria? Or something sugared up to be palatable?

Swirling the goblet around, to seem sophisticated, you ask, “so is this some kind of rich person party? Like an Illuminati meeting or something?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you speak of.”

“Right.” You draw out the single syllable, landing hard on the t. LARPers, probably, but not unattractive ones. Those masks don’t hide everything, and the shape of his jaw is not something to balk at, and those lips? Not to be forward in your own brain or anything, but they’re certainly decent to look at. This has to be some kind of weird-ass club, or like a rich dumbass ritual or something, definitely not your average frat party with a variety of random drugs mixed into the mystery punch. “Do you go to school here?”

He looks down at your university sweatshirt, cocking his head slightly. “A place of learning, is it? No, I’m afraid I have not attended such an institution, but I must admit that I have been tempted.”

“Well,” you take another sip of wine, “it’s not bad, as far as universities go. With decent financial aid, too.”

“Best not to drink too much of that,” your stranger says, “it’s much stronger than it tastes, and it’s best you stay clear-headed for the evening’s festivities.”

“One cup can’t hurt,” you say, and then realize that he’s just volunteered you to join in on the fun. Which is kind of weird, you guess, but then again, you aren’t going to complain. This is a way more interesting place to spend your evening, but might as well prop your backpack underneath one of the tables, hiding it beneath the skirt of the pale white cloth. You eye the unmarked bottle that one of the party-goers holds, but set your goblet down by the expensive-looking chinaware, flexing your fingers as they begin to tingle with the warmness that comes with alcohol. “What’s the party’s theme?”

He cocks his head, as though confused.

“Like a…” you try to think of a different way to phrase it. “A topic you pick, and everyone has to adhere to it. The people here all look like they’re, like, what Victorian thought the fairies looked like or something. I think it’s the clothes.”

“We are Faeries, though,” he says, the sides of his mouth curving upwards.

“Hm,” you say, “of course you are.”

“Join me for this dance?” Your stranger asks instead of any rebuttals, holding out a hand.

You look over at the band that plays, masks of distinct animal-like features flickering in the light of the bonfire roaring in the center of the clearing, all instruments vaguely familiar, yet not. Some of them you think you’ve seen before, at maybe renaissance-themed festivals, but the others must be from some kind of distinctly obscure genre of music.

The heat from the fire seems to lick out at your fingers, or maybe it’s the alcohol, already making its way through your system, but you stare, transfixed, at the way the lyre player plucks at the strings of their instrument. The quick movement plays too much with your eyes, you barely see anything more than the blurs of fingers, and you suddenly realize that you are swaying in place.

“I don’t know how,” you say, snapping out of whatever trance you had been in.

“It’s rather simple, come here,” he takes one of your hands, shockingly not unwelcome. Perhaps the warmth of his skin against yours brings you a kind of peace that you need during this period of your life. “I will teach you.”

Your stranger is correct; the dance is fairly simple to learn, mostly because there are very few rules. Sway your hips. Let your feet bounce against the soft forest floor. Let him spin you around and around until your head almost feels light. You’ll be honest, he’s the one doing all the work, guiding you, adding more flair to your steps, one hand resting on your waist, the other weaving its fingers with yours. Now, you may not be one to go out and ballroom dance on the fly, but you would be alright admitting that this is kind of fun.

So you dance. And you dance. And you continue dancing, letting the music remove you from time and space, everything else fades away except for the thrumming drumbeat, the wind in the trees, and your partner. You don’t feel the need to gasp for air, nor do your legs give out and collapse, but you aren’t even aware of how much time has passed. You dance out your pain, your stress, and any alcohol that lingers in your system, a layer of sweat keeping your body cool in the autumn night’s air. An eternity, perhaps, a small piece of infinity shared between you and this stranger, or the briefest of moments that still yield the most intimate bit of time that two people can share.

The song ends- or perhaps, the band finally runs out of music to play. You don’t know what time it is, but you aren’t finished with the party, not yet. The stranger sets his hands on both your hips, eyes as red as the fires of hell, and offers you a promising smile, his shirt loosely clinging to his body, having lost the fancily embroidered vest at some point while dancing.

“Do you want to get out of here?” You ask, making a snap decision not to let the night go to waste.

His smile widens.

The trees are your only audience when he brings you away from the rest of the party, the moon staring over the tops of the red and yellow leaves. The chill of the night might have discouraged anyone else, but you are broiling with energy and ready to continue moving wildly to keep warm. Despite barely being out of sight, you’re already working on his clothes, trying to find velcro or snaps of a cheap costume and failing rather miserably. He seems amused with your attempts, guiding your hands to find a variation of ties and buttons. Soon enough, you have his shirt off, his pale skin gleaming in the moonlight, revealing a chest etched in dozens of tattoos, red like blood against his pale skin, though it’s too dark to make out precisely what they are.

He seems to have a destination in mind, even though you steal most of his attention with kisses and touches. Even though you are in a place you’re sure no one would bother finding you in, he still seems determined to herd your desperate body further away from the camp, until the both of you get to a clearing, free of roots strangling the ground. Jupiter and Saturn stare blankly down from their perches in the sky, the stars surrounding them twinkling, as though applauding your conquest.

“I didn’t catch your name,” you gasp after a breathless kiss.

He pauses, almost put off by the request, like he’s startled you would even ask. Before you can even regain the ability to feel nervous, he says, “Avery.”

“Avery,” you repeat, running your fingers through his hair. “That’s a nice name.”

“And what may I call you?”

Like a fool, you give up your first name without much thought, but you are too excited about where the night is going to remember what you said even a second later. It doesn’t seem to matter, though, because his mouth is against yours, and your back is on the cold, dewy grass before you even register that he pulled your legs off balance. He’s a good kisser, you think hazily, his lips traveling down from your mouth to your collarbone. His mouth is nice and hot against your skin, already sending pleasant little shivers down your spine as he works, and you find yourself grasping at the cold, dying grass of the earth in order to pull your spirit back to reality.

The insides of your belly melt as he lifts your shirt up over your breasts, and you’re quick to discard the garment as he sucks at the skin just above the hemline of your pants. He needs help with the button and the zipper, his lithe fingers struggling to figure out the mechanics, so you undo everything for him. After letting out a thankful grunt, he leans forward, pressing his lips right on your stomach, sucking hard enough to leave a red mark that may bruise in the morning.

Then he kisses the skin just above where your underwear ends, a jolting shiver pulsing through your core at the contact. When you glance down at him, the barest light emanating from the roaring bonfire only a few meters away, he seems so… focused, you think, at his task of slowly stripping the last bit of fabric away from your body. Methodically, he tugs, fingers threading through the straps at the side, his eyes glimmering in the light bleeding out from the moon herself.

Slowly, steadily, he presses his mouth where your leg and torso meet, nibbling at a bit of flesh before moving ever so slightly downwards, opening your legs and seemingly liking what he finds down there. Carefully avoiding any of your puckered, wet skin, he instead moves his lips just to the side, clearly enjoying the act of driving you to the brink of insanity. You can feel the smile he wears as he teases you further, switching over to your other thigh.

Almost impatiently, you wrap one of your legs around his shoulder, arching your back when he finally lashes his tongue out to trace the outline of your flower. A heated spark ignites through your nerves, a charge of fiery need flooding your body and into your core. He seems to enjoy the breathless whine you offered in response because he does it again, inching closer and closer to your clit.

Roughly, you tangle your fingers into his long, flowing hair, pulling him closer and begging with no words for him to stop teasing and finally give you the pleasure you need. Avery finally complies, pressing his tongue right up against your clit and tracing little circles on and around it. The heat of his breath only helps further stir the coals in your womb, your back arching against the gentle curve of the world as you cry out.

He seems to deeply enjoy your keening, popping off your puckered flesh in the brief moment it takes for him to smile up at you, like a beast satisfied with the tortured screams of its prey. The way his tongue moves up, around, and down your clit makes you want to die, dirt clinging underneath your fingernails, bits of grass tearing as you claw at the ground. Still, he takes your keening reaction to double his efforts, using his fingers when his mouth is busy elsewhere, rubbing gentle little patterns in the opening of your slit.

There, you can feel your orgasm approaching as he begins to explore your core with his thumb, pushing and rubbing against the throbbing folds with some level of curiosity in his eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, a passing observation.

You’re so beyond the point of return that you could barely even draw in the words to thank him before you’re overcome with shaking trembles emanating from your very core, your insides quick to bend and break at his beckoning. It doesn’t take much more teasing from Avery before you’re crying out for him, voice cracking with pleasure and desperation, your fingers threading through his hair so tightly you don’t know where you end, and he begins.

When you are nothing more than a heaping, teary-eyed mass of trembling flesh on the ground, he crawls up from between your legs, kisses your stomach, your ribs, your breasts, your collarbone, all the way up to your mouth once more. You can taste yourself on his tongue and lips, warmer than the wine and almost twice as intoxicating, and by the wild stare in his eyes, he’s drunk with your nectar. And, quite frankly, ready to devour you, his kisses all teeth and heat, mouth dexterous against the curves, rises, and plateaus of your body, like he knows so very intimately every square centimeter of you.

There’s a hard rock length against your stomach, one that you can feel, almost tragically against your skin as he lavishes your lips and chest with his blessed attention. Even though you walked into this situation expecting a one-night stand, you don’t know, this feels light it could rocket through your life and end up becoming

“More,” you rasp, surprised that your voice is even working, ” more.”

He understands that rough and demanding command, stroking your hair with one of his free hands, mouth offering up a myriad of kisses to your neck and collarbone, an odd, overcoming need to please you emanating off of him, one like you’ve never dealt with before. Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see the familiar masks of those at the party earlier, but Avery turns your wandering gaze back to him with his insistent, feral kiss, his chest trembling with heated need.

“Do you want my cock inside you?” He asks, wanting to hear you say it.

“Please,” you almost snarl, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Hmm,” he almost manages to fool you that he could care less, but by the way his body grinds and presses against yours, he’s so, so close to traveling the radius of the earth itself to comply. You can hear the rustle of fabric as he strips away what’s left of his ensemble, moving away from your body and leaving you almost horrifically cold.

It doesn’t take a lot for him to angle your legs properly, your thigh rubbing up against his throbbing member. He’s at least gentle with how he impales you, his entrance slow and gradual, kaleidoscope eyes staring so intently into your very being that you wonder if you’ll survive the next time pleasure crashes down around you. And he feels so good, the crisp, autumn grass against your back the only thing keeping you from becoming so lost beneath his trembling body.

He must share your thoughts because even though he’s only eased in, his forehead pressed against yours, his breathing is short and shallow like he could hardly believe the pleasure your body gives him. Once he’s fully sheathed, he swears, voice quiet, yet filled to the brim with lust. You wrap your legs around his waist, hoping to feel him further, your voice and your body begging him to continue, to move, but he’s almost in a trance.

You’re impatient for movement, for that slick friction between your thighs, so you quickly take matters into your own hands. With no finesse, fueled only by spite and determination, you shift, switching positions using your legs and arms. Avery simply rolls with it, a ghostly smile on his mouth as you pin his hands to the ground, chest heaving from the effort, a layer of sweat misting your skin despite the chill of the night.

That seems to break whatever space he had retreated to, eyes lit like a roaring forest fire as he beholds your body from beneath your legs. His voice is raspy, but the demand is calm, collected, like he’s waited for thousands of years for this, for you. “Use me.”

You let out a breath, steadying yourself on his body to comply, and grind. His eyes roll back as you do, starting slowly, his back arching off the ground, his chest heaving with pleasure at the loss of control. Careful to control the pace, you let yourself be taken by the pleasure, the joining slick and hot, your core roaring with approval and greed. More, more, more.

Everything is suddenly vibrantly alive, the forest rustling with a wind you don’t feel, crickets singing hymns in the open field, the moon herself licking at your bodies with her soft, precious light. You think you hear chanting in the distance, your brain muddled with his delicious praises and lust that you don’t try to investigate, too focused on feeling his length pulse and move through your folds. Tears prick at your eyes, not from sadness, no, and you couldn’t possibly know their purpose because this feels so good, like his body was made for you.

This climax almost hurts, you felt it approaching and you knew it would be a lot, so you brace yourself, both hands gripping his shoulders like a lifeline. You look into his eyes, and you see… more, than just fundamental attraction, more than pure, unadulterated lust, but you’re so far gone you can’t pinpoint what it is, exactly, before you’re overcome.

Everything in your body is aflame, your core quaking enough to make you think, for just a brief moment, that the earth itself is tearing apart, you cry, you whine, you scream for him, and he’s there, holding onto you for dear life. Telling you that you’re perfect, you’re beautiful, that you’ll never want another man so long as your legs are wrapped around him so tightly like this. You think you believe him, gasping for air, fingernails digging into his skin hard enough to draw blood, though he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

It takes a lot of concentration to bring yourself back into your body, your soul and spirit so besotted with desire, but you manage it, feeling his hands grip your thighs so tightly his fingers may leave bruise marks. You bend forward, letting him take the reins as you try to stay present enough in the moment to kiss and nip at his neck, teeth tugging at his skin, the aftershocks still moving through your nerves like waves on a storming night. Still, though, you want him to feel what you did, to become undone by your hand.

And he does, his thrusts becoming so uneven that you begin to grind, ghosts of your orgasm weaving through your flesh and womb. A crescendo of noise seems to overtake the clearing, the air becoming like static, the hairs on your arms standing on end. Overcome, he curses and snarls in a language you don’t understand, his voice hard and soft at the same time, his hips jerking as something warm and wet pulses out of his member, filling you up and spilling out onto his pelvis.

Avery sits up, still joined within you, shaken, but startlingly and brilliantly alive, chest heaving with the effort of breathing. He presses his mouth against yours in a myriad of kisses, soft, possessive, tender, needy. There is still some amount of desire on his lips, but without the same uncontrollable yearning broiling just beneath his fevered skin like before.

Then he says your name, and a shiver goes down your spine, your very being somehow attentive to whatever he says next, as though your entire universe suddenly floods down and descends on this one, single person. He says it again, rolling it over his tongue like a wine taster, trying out each of the letters as though they offer a different kind of sweetness, his eyes just as wild as they had been when you held him pinned to the grass. A sliver of fear pierces your chest, making you want to push him onto the ground and take him again, but he has other plans.

“I’ll walk you back, dove,” he says, pressing his mouth against your collarbone, though he doesn’t kiss you again, not yet. “The sun will soon be up.”

[marauderbilliepevensie]

Instruments the Pevensie's Would Play

Peter

Violin

Piano

Guitar

Peter picked up the violin at the age of five after hearing a busker play on the street. Ever since, he's been dedicated to the instrument, always trying to improve. Peter is a talented, expressive player, and is equally good at fast and slow pieces. He was the first Pevensie at his music school, and the teachers were over the moon when they heard that more of his family would be joining.

When Peter was eight, he decided that he wanted to learn the piano as well, and was a fast learner, quickly excelling at the instrument. He found it calming to sit down and play such a relaxing instrument when he felt stressed by the responsibility of being the eldest.

When Peter was twelve, he picked up the guitar, finding the chordal instrument relatively easy after having learnt violin for seven years. He trained in classical guitar, but is amazing at electric and bass too.

Susan

Voice

Piano

Harp (in Narnia)

Susan always had a great interest in culture, music especially, so it's no wonder she balanced so many instruments.

Susan loved to sing from an early age, and decided she wanted classes when she was nine. These consisted mostly of phrasing, a few arias and popular songs, as well breath control. At fourteen, her singing lessons became more serious, and she started to explore the techniques of operatic singing, officially starting classical pieces at fifteen. She joined the choir shortly after beginning her singing lessons and is easily the best soprano there, meaning she gets lots of solos and duets. Susan is a soprano with a 2-3 octave range.

There was a piano in the Pevensie household. Helen Pevensie had it because she took lessons when she was younger, and wanted to keep practising her skills even after she stopped. When Susan started showing interest, she taught her some basic scales and tunes. When Susan turned eight, she began to go to professional classes like her older brother, and they coincidentally had the same teacher.

Susan had always liked the harp, and longed to learn how to play the elegant instrument, but its cost, weight, and size prevented her from doing so. You can imagine her surprise then, when she discovered that the harp was played in Narnia. Susan quickly sought out the best teacher she could find (a dryad) and began to learn. By the time her and her siblings accidentally stumbled back through the wardrobe, she was an exceptional player, and her talent at the harp – along with the piano and singing – was a contributing factor to the number of marriage proposals she received.

Edmund

Violin

Viola

Piano (kind of)

Following in the footsteps of his older brother, Edmund started playing violin at the age of five. Like Peter, he was excelled at the instrument, astounding his teacher and those who went to the music school concerts with his technique, tone and style.

However, when he was eleven, Edmund began to show interest in the viola. He found its low pitch and sound pleasing to the ear, and though it greatly lacks in repertoire – and is made fun of by violinists and other string players – he found himself drawn to the shunned instrument, seeing the beauty behind its sombre sound. His violin teacher offered to give him lessons free of charge, as the family already gave so much to the school, and Edmund accepted. He knew it wouldn't be difficult, as the technique was the same as that of the violin, and he would only need to get used to a bigger instrument and reading in alto clef.

Once in Narnia, he decided that he would learn the piano. When Peter found him sitting down trying to figure out how to play, he offered to teach him, and very soon, piano duets filled the halls of Cair Paravel every Saturday.

Lucy

Cello

Voice

When Lucy was six, she heard a recording of Jacqueline du Pré playing Elgar's cello concerto in E minor. When it came on the radio, she stopped reading her book and went completely silent. Lucy was entranced by the music, and the deep, rich tone of the cello. Afterwards, the youngest Pevensie decided it was time for her to take up music lessons. Getting her first cello is one of the happiest moments of her life, and as she grew older, she only loved it more. Even the way you play the cello - as if you are hugging it - matched Lucy's affection for her instrument perfectly. Her favourite piece she's played so far is The Swan by Saint-Saëns, and her dream is to play the Elgar concerto that first inspired her to take up the cello.

Lucy also loves to sing, and has a bright joyful voice. Though she never took private lessons, she is in the choir at the music school the Pevensies go to and loves every minute of it - especially when she gets to proudly watch Susan do a solo. Lucy is a mezzo-soprano with a 2 octave range.

[shoichee]

okok hc or fic: reader was teiko’s “head” manager(?) and her talent was being a medic (if someone gets injured they’re back on the court in under a minute type thing) and training plans. suddenly momoi’s talent blooms, she starts working w/ everyone in the team (+ reader’s crush akashi) and people think she’s a better manager than reader. because of this, she overworks + collapses in front of her best friends kuroko + kise (don’t let akashi know yet i have plans for that 👀)

HELLO? YES OFFICER? I JUST FOUND A BANGER REQUEST RIGHT HERE? YOUR BRAIN IS SO BIG AND SEXY IVE BEEN DYING TO WRITE THIS🏃🏻‍♀️💨 part 2 here and part 3 here AND update: part 4 here

Akashi x Reader

[Teiko!manager Headcanons]

you had a knack of being a natural chiropractor in loosening up tense muscles instantly (for more fluid play) or easily putting in back dislocated joints

basically you have crackhands

in your free time as a hobby and a job as the “head manager” (that Akashi announced to the team himself), you’d often bury yourself in anatomy studies and gym plans on the internet and databases to review over Akashi’s team training routines to see if they were effective and safe; oftentimes, you’d return back with improved plans, and as time went on, Akashi entrusted you with creating the plans yourself completely

you took on the job so eagerly to impress the Teiko captain, if you were being honest to yourself

your enthusiasm even inspires Momoi, Teiko’s other manager, to work harder

no one in Teiko knows physiology better than you, and as expected, it was also your best subject along with health

Kise often looks at you in horror and respect at how you don’t cringe/flinch at the loud cracks resonating across the room or court when players come to you for instant relief (the origin story of how he came to call you (y/n)-cchi was the very fact that you manage to put back his dislocated shoulder in 3 seconds flat one game)

when Kuroko first joined the 1st-string, he was a walking magnet for injuries, and you ended up being there for him every single time… nosebleeds? check. sprained ankle? check. nausea from over exhaustion? check.

both you and Kuroko relish in the fact that everyone in the team can never understand how the both of you do some incredible things with your hands

both of you being quite dexterous, you both often teach each other your specialties for fun; it’s almost shocking to see Kuroko effortlessly loosening up a stress knot and you pulling off a well-done palm pass

you admit, you do juggle a lot of responsibilities… from being a makeshift nurse, to a chiropractor, to a budget gym coach, and even to being moral support

Momoi often reminds you to take breaks being the caring person that she is

you often showed her the ropes and tricks of being a manager, on top of your duties, and you find it really endearing that she’s so earnest in learning from you

even if you enjoyed doing what you do, part of the massive workload is to try to get into Akashi’s good graces

talking to him about basketball duties is easier to achieve than talking to him outside of the extracurricular

you might be a tad bit insecure about it; after all, what middle schooler is already so accomplished in academics, sports, and everything you could think of? wasn’t he also studying to take over his father’s company??

to you, who only starred as Teiko’s humble manager, it felt hard trying to establish common ground for conversation outside of basketball

so you stuck to working hard at your position, hoping that your work ethic would get his attention one day; you were a firm believer of actions over words, so you hoped your actions would come off as genuine

picture you and Momoi running across campus with stacks of papers for the team… it makes most of the teammates’ hearts melt at the sight

your work certainly got you praises from other teammates, but out of all players, Kise was the one who figured out your motive

you felt absolutely morbid; to think that Kise, of all people, would figure you out like the back of his hand

Kise being sweet as he is, offers to help you get with the captain but you merely prompted to threaten to break his arm if he spilled your crush to anyone else

“(y/n)-cchi… I’ve been thinking.”

“Yes, Kise?”

“It’s really cool that you’re working so tirelessly for the team, but I can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason why you work so hard.”

“O-Of course I do! I want to see you guys all succeed!”

“Then I’m curious as to why you always look at Akashicchi—o-ow, ow, ow!! (y/n)-cchi, I’m sorry! So can you please let go of my—ow!”

“H-How did you know?!”

“I-It was as obvious as day, (y/n)-cchi! I’m pretty sure even Kurokocchi found out about this before I did!”

“N-No way!!”

“Tell you what, I’m super duper knowledgeable in this stuff! You can count on me for this sort of advice—OW!”

spoiler alert: Kise was right in that Kuroko definitely noticed your attraction to Akashi before anyone else… he just never brought it up to you

one day, Kuroko comes up to you to whisper:

“(y/n)-san, have you realized that Akashi-kun has been observing you recently during practice?”

“W-Wait! Is he looking over here right now?”

“Not that I think. He’s occupied with the coach right now.”

“D-Do you think this is a good sign?”

Kuroko gives you a small smile before he replies, “I would like to think so. Keep working hard, (y/n)-san.”

and you do, you’re constantly on top of your game for the next season until Momoi suddenly gets more recognition for her “precognitive defense” skills

her newfound talent was extraordinary and never-before-seen, and her ability became more critical to Teiko’s victories than your own skills

you were happy and proud for her, because after all, her achievements were extremely deserving to be praised

it’s only when some 1st-string players started making offhand comments about how you weren’t really needed in the 1st-string and was more suited to the lower strings that placed seeds of doubt into you

these people would often compare you to Momoi in how she improved much more despite you being in the team for longer

there’s also talk about how your skills are more useful for 2nd-string and 3rd-string players because Momoi’s ability is already sufficient enough for Teiko’s starters

after all, how would a player even be injured if they can predict their opponents’ moves to avoid such incidents?

there’s also the fact that Akashi has been calling Momoi more frequently to research on upcoming teams for analytical data because her talent has become very useful to ensuring victory

the same peers and adults who gave you praise were the same people who began to ignore you or dismiss you; that being said, the collective change in attitude is definitely subtle enough that it would fly under most people’s radars

Kuroko was the first to notice and defend you against a small group of players who were bold enough to badmouth you in the gym

Kise would find out a little later about the somewhat unpleasant gossip about you and would pull the “no you” reverse card, returning back with MEANER underhanded comments that would send these shit talkers CRYING HOME (manga Kise strikes here unexpectedly eh?)

Murasakibara is someone who would be slightly uncomfortable with the gossip about you, especially since you’ve always been so helpful and kind to the team and himself; he’d either leave the room himself or easily scare them away with his looming height and presence without saying a single word when he enters the room “minding his own business”

Midorima is a bystander judging from how he’s reacted to the Teiko dynamic changes in the actual show // he, of course, wouldn’t like the nasty talk about you but would actually mind his own business, choosing to focus on himself and what he has to do to contribute to his team; he assumes that you would work hard the same way he is and let your contributions do the talking

now Akashi surprisingly wouldn’t hear much of the gossip, since his presence alone SHUTS them up and commit to their practices like normal; after all, it’s very clear that Akashi doesn’t tolerate this type of behavior in the team (example: Haizaki), and it’s more apparent that he wouldn’t hesitate to drop kick them out especially since he has a soft spot for you (which Kise never fails to bring this up to you, but you think he’s reaching too much into it) // TLDR; the teammates mostly have the common sense to not utter anything bad about you… maybe one kid would slip out and get punished for “bad sportsmanship,” but Akashi merely assumes that it’s just one bad apple and not necessarily… the many others as well

Aomine???? bro he ain’t even at practice wdym (HELPPP LMAOO) // jokes aside, if he catches wind of players shit-talking outside of the gym… say at the convenience store or when he’s walking home or something, well… they wouldn’t have a good time…

Momoi simply chastises the gossipers when they try to talk shit on you to make Momoi herself look good, and it leaves? such? a? horrible? taste? like, she wants to believe that they’re just really poor jokes and not what they really believe in, and the teammates merely reassure her that they’re just bad jokes and that they “wouldn’t do it again;” poor Momoi wholeheartedly believes them

the weird talks about Momoi being “the better manager” just signalled to you that you haven’t contributed enough to the team yet, and it motivated you to work even harder

oddly, you weren’t jealous of the fact that Momoi was receiving more positive attention than you

you were more afraid of the fact that you were going to get left behind, and this fear only tightened its hold on you when more teammates (who used to talk to you a lot) have changed their tunes when they speak with you now, compared to them talking to Momoi

and you felt that the Generation of Miracles would do the same too… including Akashi

it wasn’t an irrational fear for you because he’s already been calling Momoi a lot more frequently for help than you recently

so you even offered to mop the gym floors after practice, offered to stay later than usual to be the one to lock up the gym for anyone (cough, Kuroko) who wanted to practice whenever they wanted

at one point, you even tried to do what Momoi does: researching on upcoming teams and making your own predictions (that didn’t really work, and that cost you a few nights’ worth of sleep every single time)

not to mention that you still had regular school like any other student? you were the epitome of a mess

Kuroko was with you in the empty gym, you putting away the extra basketballs in the storage closet while he practiced his dribbling, until he heard a crash in there and a few basketballs rolled out the door

you collapsed right when you rolled in the basketball cart

POOR KUROKO HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO // he just tries to give you a piggyback ride as he abandons his plans of practice and tries to jog to the nearest local clinic

that’s where he bumped into Kise, who was heading home after an evening shoot when he saw the two of you

chaos ensue as Kise freaks out and Kuroko had to calm him down himself after answering the never-ending questions

at least the doctor there gave relieving news that you only collapsed from over-exhaustion and that the bruises from the fall were very faint

Kise makes a joke to Kuroko about, “What’s with you and (y/n)-cchi falling to the floor and fainting? You guys can’t be that alike.”

when you shortly regain consciousness, you were met with a… very stern Kuroko and Kise, who were both ready to hear your explanation and to scold you to oblivion

to your surprise, they were understanding; Kuroko understands the feeling of not being enough and working hard to meet other people’s expectations, and Kise understands the struggle of juggling multiple things in his schedule (come on, student, athlete, and model?)

they still scolded your ears off:

“(y/n)-san, you idiot. Why didn’t you ask anyone to help out?”

“That’s…”

“(y/n)-cchi, do you think we’re undependable?!”

“Er, no, that’s…”

you were still dizzy from the fall and the lack of proper sleep (and maybe nutrition if we’re being honest), and you were just a ball of stress

you kind of begged your best friends not to tell a SOUL to anyone about this incident, especially to Akashi… you didn’t want to look even more incapable in his eyes than you already were

they do agree on one condition: for you to take AT LEAST a day or two off school to completely recover and rest up (you reluctantly agree; besides how were you going to explain the bruises that can’t be covered to your peers?)

HELP WHY ARE KISE AND KUROKO THE BEST LIARS TOGETHER ON CAMPUS LITERALLY NO ONE SUSPECTS A THING… except Akashi, the ever sharp captain, felt something was amiss

especially since some Teiko players emanated a feeling of relief at the news of you not being here that day, or the next

Akashi would play detective sleuth and find out what’s really going on sooner or later

End Note: gonna cut this off here b/c I KNOW this anon got a juicy part two i FEEL IT