#its like a switch went off in my brain telling me hes my world now

[wraithdolll]

so theres this senior citizen

[dreamdragonkadia]

In my mind, The Lost Hero happened way later—like, a couple years later. So in my brain, they’re all adults, and the timeline is a little less "let's throw traumatized teenagers into yet another world-ending catastrophe" and more "competent, still traumatized, but definitely more stable adults saving the world because no one else will." Anyways, this happened. p.jackons x hades!reader

Percy Jackson would die on this hill.

He’d argue the point until the end of time if necessary, Riptide in hand and the sea raging at his back. Jason and Leo? No shot. They’d roll their eyes every time he brought it up, Jason muttering something about lightning bolts and Leo snarking about how obviously he was the real MVP because of his fire and flying machines. Piper and Hazel? They’d smirk and shake their heads, still convinced that the title of “most powerful demigod” belonged to Jason or Percy himself. The entirety of Camp Jupiter seemed to agree, like they’d written it in stone tablets for history books or something.

But for the love of all the gods on Olympus, none of them had met you.

You—his girlfriend, his other half, his I-can’t-believe-she-tolerates-me girl—were something else entirely. It wasn’t just that you were strong. It was the way you carried it, like your power didn’t need an introduction.

Sure, everyone had met Nico. The whole camp had watched him command skeletons with a flick of his hand, the shadows curling around him like dark flames. He was strong—terrifying at times. Even Percy would admit it. But you? The daughter of Hades who didn’t seem like a daughter of Hades? That was another level of unfair.

If Nico was the silent shadow creeping up behind you, you were the entire storm. Quiet and cold when you needed to be, unrelenting when you wanted to be. Percy had seen you switch from soft smiles and playful teasing to a demigod weapon capable of crushing monsters under your boot—and gods, he loved it.

It wasn’t that you hid your power. You just didn’t feel the need to show it off. That, in Percy’s humble opinion, was what made you so terrifyingly powerful. Nico raised the dead like it was child’s play, but you? You commanded the shadows. They weren’t just weapons under your control—they were yours. Alive, fluid, shifting like they had minds of their own, all loyal to you despite not being a daughter of Nyx.

He remembered the exact moment he realized he was absolutely done for. Years ago, he watched you crush a monster into dust using nothing but its own shadow. One flick of your hand, one whispered command, and it unraveled like paper in a storm. He couldn’t look away. You turned to him afterward—grinning, grinning—and said something ridiculous like, “It wasn’t that bad. I just got lucky.”

And then, not ten minutes later, you were sitting with him on the beach, drawing little sea turtles in the sand with your toe like it was the most natural thing in the world. You were terrifying and kind, fierce and soft, all at once.

Then he went missing for six months because of course a certain goddess had to mess with his life.

Waking up at Camp Jupiter without his memory was rough, sure. Getting tackled by Roman kids in armor? Even rougher. But worse than that? It was waking up to an ache in his chest, the kind that didn’t make sense because he couldn’t remember you, but he felt you. He felt like he was forgetting something important—like the sea itself was telling him something was missing.

And when he finally got his memories back, when he stumbled into you again after what felt like a lifetime apart, Percy swore he’d never forget the look on your face when you saw him.

You were halfway through ripping apart a monster—shadows swirling around you like a living hurricane—when your eyes snapped to his. The storm stilled, and your lips parted, a breathless, shaky whisper escaping you.

“Percy?”

Before he could speak, before he could think, you were in front of him, throwing your arms around his neck. The storm had been yours, but now it was his—crashing through his chest, tightening his throat, overwhelming him with something he couldn’t put into words.

He didn’t care that monsters were still crawling out of the ground around you both. He didn’t care that you were technically mid-battle. Percy wrapped his arms around you, buried his face in your hair, and swore he wouldn’t let go.

“You found me,” you breathed, squeezing him tighter.

“Always,” he murmured back. “Always.”

Jason and Leo had arrived by then—Jason launching himself into the fight with lightning flying and Leo yelling something dramatic about “couple reunions during battle being so cliche.”

But Percy didn’t care.

Because when he pulled back to look at you, to see the way your smile broke through like sunlight cutting through a storm, Percy knew.

You were one of the strongest demigod he’d ever met.

And he’d die on that hill.

[kandadze]

Ep 34 loose thoughts

Here we go, the finale!!!

....... This drama really does not fuck around when it comes to grief. ZYC's reaction to seeing Bai Jiu absolutely gutted me (it's usually the pain of those left behind that gets me the most and boy, was ZYC's pain palpable. Like the unbearable weight crushing your chest). The way he immediately looked away first, like he just *couldn't* face this. He's faced so much already, and so, so bravely, but this, this was *too* much.

And then their song came on, he noticed the bells in Bai Jiu's hand, and I lost it. (I could literally write paragraphs about everything going on in this one scene, and I probably will, but I *really* need to calm down first.)

The whiplash I got when the scene switched to WX still being slammed against hard surfaces... this would be a good moment for ZYZ to appear!

😭 omg I can't believe her tears brought him back. I mean, I *can,* this is not the first time this drama demonstrates that brute strength is not always the answer and vulnerability and our bonds with others can overcome obstacles, it's just, I didn't quite expect it to work so well!

Ahhhh okay, it was her tears powered up by her divine power. My previous thought still stands though lol

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

Oh no. When Fan daren looked at ZYZ and told WX that someone else will look after her now I was not only bawling but also going, *will* he though? Or will she lose ZYZ too, right after losing her dad? 😭

(The analytical part of my brain can't help but tick off the scenes from MV as they click into place... just a few left to go, and I'm really scared now)

Oh no are we having a zombie demon apocalypse now? (Oh no, don't tell me that the only way to deal with this is to use Baize token, as she just unconsciously did with her dad? So either ZYZ or ZYC have to sacrifice themselves to heal WX so she can do her thing? Is this how we're going to lose one if not both of them????)

Oh fucking hell I was right. Only WX is ready to sacrifice herself - "this is the final sacrificial spell..." Why are all of them like thisssss (don't answer that, I'm just having a lot of feelings about everyone in the squad and how they're always ready to do everything in their power, including dying, to make sure the others get to live. I can't remember being this feral about a group of characters in a *long* time.)

IS ANYONE SURPRISED THAT ZYZ WENT, ABSOLUTELY THE FUCK NOT, NOT ON *MY* WATCH??? (I hate being right.)

Omg are you really talking about the pendant, or something else, ZYZ?! Fuck me do I even continue watching at this point when I'm pretty sure I know where this is going???

Yup, I continue. See the world clearly and all that.

😭😭😭

But how is him dying to kickstart her powers gonna help with the poison though???

Aw ZYZ, that must've hurt, having to do that. (Also, if they both somehow survive, she's gonna kill him for pulling this stunt.) Oh her cries for him are killing me. And him, too. I feel like yelling some more about HMH's acting because his *face,* that self slap, the *pain* - just, perfect in every way.

And speaking of pain, there's still more. ZYC is like a perfect mirror of WX at this moment, having just lost someone so dear, and you can see how it's killing ZYZ inside that there's no time, that he needs to ask ZYC to fulfill his oath *now*...

(I do appreciate the explanation why the "wing" spell worked. The karma is indeed tangled in the most unpredictable twists.)

Like I understand what he's saying, but why the fuck do they have to pay the highest price, and repeatedly. (Oh yeah, because of one schmuck's hubris, that's why.) The Greek tragedy of it all. 😭😭😭

Looking at ZYC now, still remembering him in ep 1, oof, the difference. How he's grown and changed, while the "fate" (ugh but I hate the word and all its implications) remained the same. The way he asks, is there really no other way? 😭😭😭 I'm asking you too, drama!!! Is there really no other way???

I agree, this is fucking absurd.

Oh nooooo are we really going to get an exact repeat of Ying Long and Bingyi, including the "let me do it myself"?!

Oh. My heart pretty much stopped. ZYZ's tiniest gasp 😭😭😭

ZYC REALLY SAID, I DECIDED THAT YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO MAKE A CHOICE FOR ME! THIS IS MY DECISION! I AM WILLING TO BEAR THE GUILT OF KILLING MY DEAREST FRIEND FOR ALL THE LIFETIMES TO COME! YOU DON'T NEED TO BEAR IT FOR ME!!!

If this isn't the purest motherfucking love, I don't know what is. (ZYC, the man that you are. The *strength* in this guy!)

Oh for fuck's sake don't do this to me, drama! (I mean, after what they've already done there's no point hoping they won't just continue twisting the knife but my poor heart can't take much more...) She was *crawling* to get to where she saw him go, and then that moment her binds disappear and she realizes... 😭😭😭

That little stumble as she sees them, and ZYC looks up and drops his sword. Somehow the aftermath hurts even more. (Ngl I'm somewhat annoyed that - maybe to fend off censorship - we don't get to see ZYC support ZYZ for one last time, we don't get to see him even try to make a move to catch ZYZ's fall or at least ease it somehow, but only this way could WX get him in her lap so I guess, fair. Also, replying to myself here, narrative explanation might as well be that ZYC is so shell-shocked from the enormity of what just happened that he's simply not able to move at all at this point. No matter how strong he is, I can't fucking even begin to imagine what might be going on through his head right now.)

Leave it to ZYZ to take care of everything while he was at it, including WX's poisoned state. He might be a vessel of malicious energy, but the amount of love in this guy is simply uncomparable...

Yes, stupid demon, you are indeed amazing 😭

He turned to look at ZYC as he started fading for good???

My throuple!!!

This... gives a whole new meaning to "crying in the rain," I swear.

😭😭😭

Sorry, I have no words.

For one of the shorter episodes in the series, it sure didn't waste even a second to absolutely crush me.

On... to the extra? Once I can breathe properly again, holy shit.

[writtenjewels]

"(Everything I Do) I Do it For You" by Bryan Adams

“Look, there's Salim!” Jason pointed, letting out a breath of relief. He reached for his radio. “Salim, come in man. You there?”

“I'm surrounded,” Salim whispered back. “Vampires... so many vampires.”

Jason felt his heart plummet into his stomach and grow cold. His brain went into a panic. He knew Salim could handle himself, but that was only against one vampire. Their explosions woke up who knew how many, and they were all pissed.

“Too risky,” Nick argued. “You go down there, you'll die with him.” That was true. If Jason went down there, he'd be putting his life on the line. Jason couldn't imagine a life where Salim was gone.

“Salim's one of us now,” he decided, “and marines don't leave their own behind. You hearin' me, Salim?”

“If I don't make it,” Salim replied, “tell my son I did everything I could.”

“Tell him yourself. I'm comin' to get you.”

Jason hopped down into the vault and charged forward. He would do whatever it took to get to Salim, to keep him safe.

– – –

Gunfire announced Jason's arrival. Salim's heart soared seeing the marine. He spared Jason a smile before turning and finishing off the vampire Jason had distracted.

“So you've come to join the fun?” he asked with a laugh. Jason flashed a smile back, switching out his rifle clip with a fresh one. He was so focused on that he didn't see the vampire rearing up behind him. “Jason!” Salim cried out. He reacted without thinking, hurling his stake like a javelin. Jason ducked out of the way, the stake making impact in the vampire's chest.

Salim rushed in and pulled the weapon out, smacking the vampire across the face to knock it to the ground. He stood over it and staked it again to make sure it was dead. Salim looked up to catch Jason's eye. The man was staring at him with his mouth hanging open.

“Did you seriously just throw that thing at me?” he demanded.

“I did,” Salim answered with a laugh. Jason grinned at him but quickly shook it off.

They ran to the exit side by side. Salim glanced Jason's way again. Some movement behind them caught his attention and he looked over his shoulder. Some ancient thing was watching them leave. It had a spear in its hand. Horror seized him a moment before the ancient one made his throw. Salim didn't even pay attention to where the creature was aiming. All he knew was that he had to protect Jason.

He grabbed the marine, pulling him out of the way. The two of them hit the ground and rolled. Salim heard a metallic thunk and stared where it landed. Right where Jason would have been standing. Salim's hands tightened around the marine for just a moment before the two were scrambling on their feet and running again.

– – –

They stood side by side, a knife in one hand and a flare in the other. This would be their last stand in the six minutes of darkness.

“It has been interesting knowing you,” Salim said.

“This? This is bullshit. I'm not here to honor the dead. Truth is, my life was goin' nowhere fast. I jumped at the chance to sign up.” … “When those towers were hit, I was stoned outta my fuckin' skull. I didn't even hear about it 'til a week later. How's that for profound?”

“Zain is all I have left in this world. After my wife left us, I gave him my all.” … “My boy has made me very proud. If only he would stop stealing.”

“If we both want to live, we must fight as one: the sword and the shield.”

“Whatever happens down there, I got your back.”

“Let's light these fuckers up!” Jason said. Their eyes met and they shared a quick smile. It was a dire moment, but they would both choose to stand here together than anywhere else alone.

– – –

Sunlight was glowing through the holes in the shepherd's hut. Screams from the dying vampires finally stopped. The five of them exchanged tired smiles. Finally it was over. Salim gave most of them a passing glance, lingering the longest on Jason. The marine met his stare. Salim wished he could express how much this man meant to him the past few hours. Especially that moment when Jason charged in to save him.

The rhythmic thumping of helicopter blades cut through the silence. Jason abruptly rose to his feet. He gave a little jerk with his head before walking into another room. Salim waited a few beats before following.

“I fuckin' forgot Eric called in air support before the mission,” Jason blurted out.

“It was a smart decision,” Salim reasoned.

“I thought so at the time, but now...” Jason's brow creased, his eyes tense with worry. “I'm sorry, Salim.”

“If you're apologizing for saving me, I don't know how to feel about it,” Salim said, trying for a light tone. Jason pressed his lips together in a stern line.

“I can try to distract 'em,” Jason offered. “Give you time to escape.”

“No. This time, I'll charge into danger for you, Jason.”

Jason opened his mouth, closing it again with a dazed expression. They stood there in silence, gazes locked, until Jason broke it. Salim followed after him where the other Americans were already gathering outside. Military men wearing gas masks exited the helicopter. They were guiding the survivors inside. Salim instantly held his hands up in a sign of surrender.

“Easy, fellas,” Jason warned before any of them could point their guns at Salim. “He's with me. I see any of you point your guns at him, your ass is mine.”

They saluted in answer. Jason stuck close to Salim's side just in case, sitting next to him inside the copter. He caught Salim's eye again and nodded to him. Salim gave him a little smile in return. If Jason could face vampires, Salim could face the US military.

He didn't even feel afraid. He knew the consequences of his choice, but he would make it all the same.

– – –

Jason squirmed restlessly in his chair. He was getting tired of going over the story. No matter how many times he said it, the situation wasn't going to get any less fucked.

“Fuck!” he burst out. “How many times do I have to keep tellin' you the same damn story?!”

“I understand,” the person in the hazmat suit responded. “However, CENTCOM needs to iron out any... irregularities.”

“Such as?” Jason fumed. “The whole fuckin' thing was irregular!”

“Such as why you allied with an enemy combatant?”

Jason knew they were going to bring that up eventually. Rage boiled just under the surface. Why didn't they just slap him with the label of “betrayer to your country” and get it over with? He was about ready to jump out of the chair and deck the guy, just to make it official.

“You weren't fuckin' there! Those things were rippin' us to shreds! I don't give a damn who it was, we needed all the help we could get!” He let out a frustrated breath, but he wasn't done yet. Not even close. He wanted these people to understand exactly where he stood. “I stepped back into that hell to save Salim,” Jason declared. “That man is worth five of you people! Semper-fuckin-'fi!”

Silence hung in the air after his rant. They would understand what he was saying. Always loyal to Salim. Not to you, not to the goddamn military. So go fuck yourself.

[ryndicate]

Hypothermic ⨳ Todoroki Touya

“Still thinkin’ about running?”

warnings: fem body/pronouns, zombie apoc au (ofc), assault, enemies to not quite enemies, gun mentions, choking, quirkless au (no scars), blood mentions, dry humping, make out, starts out dubcon as in he doesnt ask first but she doesnt tell him to stop, and a semi ungodly pov switch but let’s run with it

event: @medusashima’s Rise of the Dead collab! Click the link for similiar lovely works!

notes: thank you for being so accommodating of me Dusa!! this came right from my soul. Love how its somehow a zombie au fic with no direct contact with zombies but like.... it works. and im over the moon about it (himmm)

By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult/dark content, and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Blog Rules/DNI

The first thing Touya notices, besides the glaringly obvious there’s an intruder—is that somehow, you’re both pretty and don’t look like much. Pretty in a way that wiggles old thoughts into his brain, old from long gone time where’d hesitate to hurt a little thing like you. But there’s a more prominent, high prevailing relief that he’s confident he can, because he has to. Because of that stupid little ramen cup that you’re helping yourself to right now. Because there’s no way you’d have that right now now unless—unless…

The undead corpses on his front lawn had been his first clue to something being wrong. Shoto doesn’t leave the zombie fuckers to rot if he can help it, an annoyance Touya’s barked at plenty of times as a waste of time and energy, only for his words to be met with quiet disapproval. So to find four of the disgusting things still pouring putrid black and stenching up the frost on his front porch…well, it gave Touya reason to be cautious. Swallowing a burst of nostalgia, he quietly opens the kitchen window—the back door squeaks loud enough to wake the dead—and climbs through with perfect silence, a skill earned in a long forgotten world that had been nothing but a blessing in the world it had turned into. The slow movements it requires give his swirling panicking mind a moment to gauge all the what if's, but when he discovers that the person sitting in his house is not his little brother it's impossible not to come to a single grim conclusion. 

That’s how he was lucky enough to get the drop on you, sitting in front of the makeshift fireplace in his beaten up living room, slurping up that ramen cup like it’s the only thing you’ve eaten in days—and given how his last run went, it’s pretty fucking likely that's how it is. Touya had already been in a pretty foul mood on his return to the safehouse, leaving to find the one thing they’re always running out of. And for the first time, he had nothing to fucking show for it. Clouds on the horizon sent him trekking home empty-handed. Scavengers fearing the approaching cold probably cleared everything out before he could get a look in. Everything they had left to eat, which wasn't much, he’d left with Shoto—who'd promised him that stupid instant ramen on his return. Said he'd save it for last. And damn it all if he couldn’t trust everything that came from his brother’s mouth, even in a world like this. 

The seconds are dragging past in Touya's mind but he knows in real time you'll notice him any moment now. By luck or skill, you've survived this long, and that counts for something. He can't give you the benefit of the doubt. He’s got a gun, secured in the waist of his jeans, but it’s been out of bullets for ages now. It’s mainly been a deterrent for strangers, kept in vain hope that he finds more ammo one day. He’d use it now, if he wanted to scare you.

But he doesn’t. Touya’s past that now. His knife comes off his belt just as silently as he came through the window. Stepping quickly on the balls of his feet, Touya crosses the room towards you, and you react a mere breath before the blade finds a new home in your neck.

Your body twists, and his reach slashes too wide. Before he can redirect the arc you’ve got your hands braced on his arm, forcing it straight with a strength he couldn’t have expected from you. Touya snarls at the combination of anger and fear on your face. You have no right. 

“The fuck’re you doing?” you growl at him through grit teeth. There’s evident strain in your voice so Touya doubles down and your wince sends a blistering satisfaction tearing through his body. When your grip weakens, he lets the blade fall and tackles you to the carpet. 

You let out a muffled yell as your back hits the ground hard, and Touya is quick to plant himself over your center mass, hands bearing down on your throat. You buck and thrash, trying to dislodge his weight, movements limited as you try to block him from cutting off your air. Touya spits a curse down at you as your nails shred at his wrists and the back of his hands. It’s incredibly difficult to keep hold of you. You’re like a fucking animal, choking and wheezing and hissing and fucking growling at him as you fight him off. With ridiculous effort, you manage to shove one of his hands off and get leverage with your feet on the ground, using his own weight to send him in an ungainly tumble to the floor.

It’s startling how quickly you react after that, gasping for air and lunging for him, putting a fist in his gut. The force of it shoves air and spittle from his lungs and has him sucking in air desperately. He rolls away from you as you pounce at him again, your shoulder checking his chin and giving him the taste of blood in his mouth before he gets a solid shove at your chest, resulting in a moan of pain. There’s a brief pause as he staggers to his feet and he freezes as his eyes lock with the gun you now have pointed at him.

You seem to have frozen as well, joints locked and chest heaving.

After a long moment Touya scoffs. “What? You just gonna point the thing at m—”

The gun clicks; time shifts; Touya jerks. 

There’s no gunshot, and your eyes fly wide in obvious fear. Time slows down just enough for him to realize that he recognizes that gun, patting his waistband. His eyes narrow, and you react, whipping the gun right at him.

Touya dodges and you turn and sprint from the living room. He lunges after you, skidding nimbly into the hall as you make a run for it. He grabs at the back your jacket, howling a curse as you jerk out of his grip, the material making an audible ripping sound and snagging at one of his nails instead, forcing him to falter. Blood wells up out of the cuticle and drips down his hand; Touya grips it tightly, hissing through his teeth and tearing after you again, catching up with you right as you start slamming a door on him. He gets his weight against the door and there’s a mad struggle as you both become opposing forces, but there’s a moment where he loses traction, the blood from his finger making his hand slide.

The door slams shut and Touya slams his fist against the wood as fury overtakes him.

“Where’s my brother, you fucking bitch!” 

Fucker was carrying an empty gun!

You wildly look around the small space that you despairingly realize is a bathroom. The man is still pounding on the door, shouting, and shaking the handle. You have no idea what he’s talking about and you need a fix before he stops being pissed enough to figure out that a few solid kicks is all it would take to get through the flimsy wood. You rip down the grimy plastic shower curtain and twist it tightly around the handle, looping it through the towel bar above the sink, hosting a pair of decrepit floral washcloths that look like they haven’t been used since patient zero. You continue weaving the figure eight until you’re forced to tie it off as you run out of length. It’s not much, but it’ll buy you an extra minute or two if you’re lucky. 

The handle creaks with one last aggravated twist. There’s a short silence that follows as you stare at the door, heart beating out of your chest. Then his voice filters through the door, a throaty rasp full of a rage that makes you quake with adrenaline and fear.

“Ain’t nowhere for you to go, lady. Get the fuck out here and maybe I won’t kill ‘ya.”

This not what you’d bargained for. “Like I’m gonna trust the guy who tried to stab me without so much as a hello.”

He chuckles, a soft sound that you’d find pretty if it weren’t for the way your skin breaks out in goosebumps that have nothing to do with the cold. “You want a hello? Come get one.”

Ignoring him—and the way your body tremors—you turn and start trying to peel away the board covering what must be a small window. If you’re lucky enough to get it off, maybe you can drop out through the window. 

But after a solid half hour of tugging, scraping and peeling, and nothing more to show for it than torn and bloody fingernails, you admit defeat. Wincing, you carefully wipe away the blood on your jeans and listen to see if he’s still outside the door. It’s hard to tell anything over your thumping pulse in your own ears, but it sounds quiet. 

It’s better not to risk it. You settle against the back of the tub and sit; if you wait long enough, he’ll pass out and you can slip out quietly. Moving quietly and disappearing is the only thing that’s kept you alive this far, especially after the last group you left. The last thing you want to do is be out at night, between the cold and poor visibility—that’s just asking to get killed. But no part of you can deny that facing that deranged stranger outside this door would be doing more than just asking. 

Time passes slowly, painfully. Ever since the turn, dozing off idly became a thing of the past, something dangerous. You’re stuck being alert and aware of every little creak, every little sigh this house can produce. The wind tears around outside and your fingertips have become numb. It’s gotten much colder tonight that it has in the past few days, and you dig your arms from your sleeves into the body of your clothing in an attempt to keep warm.

A light tapping puts you on edge before you realize you’re shaking so hard that the buttons on your jacket are clacking against the floor. You clench your jaw. You have to try now; if you wait any longer it’ll be too cold to make it down the street, let alone how far you’ll need to get away from this place to feel comfortable ever again. Your joints protest as you stand as silently as you can, after sitting for so long. It’s much more painstaking to get the shower curtain from the door; it’s like trying to tiptoe with a windbreaker, but eventually you manage and crack the door open. 

The house is dark, but even after a few moments no one shoves the door open, so pull it wider and peek out. There’s no sign of him. You step quietly out and feel your way down the wall, back towards the living room. There’s no chance you’ll get your pack back, not much in it besides clothes and water anyways, but you’ll have to make do. You inch into the kitchen where you remember seeing a backdoor, and gently turn the lock before pulling the door open. The hinges squeak so painfully loud that you suck in a breath, heart thudding in panic, but that’s not what has you frozen, shivering in the doorway.

What you heard from the bathroom floor wasn’t just wind, but a full blown snowstorm. It’s too early for snow, at least you’d thought, but here it is swirling so thick that you can’t see more than a couple of feet into the yard, and there’s already about a foot of snow. The moon highlights your breath getting swept away in the wind.

“Still thinkin’ about running?”

You shut the door and warily face him, not deigning to answer. The chances of making it more than a couple of blocks without freezing to death are slim. You can’t see much but his silhouette and a mess of pale hair, so it’s hard to make out what he’s thinking. All you know is that he hasn’t wrapped his hands around your neck yet.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t go pointing a gun at me again, and I won’t kill you tonight.”

“Try not to stab me then.”

You think he’s smiling. “No promises.” 

Another shudder wracks through you and you try to tighten your jacket around your body. There’s a tear somewhere near the underarm seam—another reason why running is a terrible option.

“C’mon. It won’t last the night, but I’ve got a small fire going.” He turns his back on you, and you have no choice but to follow him. “Name’s Touya, by the way.”

The “fire” Touya’s got up is nothing but a few table legs crumbling into ember, but you have to admit it’s much warmer in here than it was in the bathroom. The soft light gives you your best look at him yet, and you notice he’s far more handsome than he should be. Hair a bright white, his skin is fair beneath the light grime, and he has piercing green, maybe blue eyes—it’s hard to tell in the flickering orange glow. 

He glances at your raised eyebrow and scoffs. “Look, it’s all I had left. Shoto was supposed to be gathering wood while I was gone.”

You sit slowly a small distance away from him, as close to the fire as you can get. He tosses you a ratty blanket that had been hanging off the back of the couch. “Is Shoto your brother?”

He looks at you and scowls. “Yeah he is, and the only reason I haven’t come after you again is because I have no leads if you’re dead. I need you, if I’m gonna find out what happened to him.”

“Is that why you attacked me?” you ask him quietly. He’s throwing a couple of torn book covers into the embers, light flickering brighter as they catch and blaze. “You think I—”

“An eye for an eye,” Touya chuckles, his expression hardening into something devoid, something frightening. 

“I didn’t kill your brother.” You tell him softly, wondering how you’re supposed to convince him when he’s already convinced himself. You have no idea who he is. He simply stares at you.

“Right.”

“Look when I got here, there were a bunch of zoms in the yard. I barely got past them, my knife broke in one of their heads. I figured the place was empty and needed somewhere to hole up. I never saw your brother, I swear.” Touya’s expression is still hard, but his eyes have begun to flicker with doubt. “Bet you went through my bag already. You know I don’t have any weapons. I’ve got no reason to lie.”

“Other than to save your own neck.”

“Isn’t that what we’re all trying to do?” You glare at him. “Look, if he was here, I would’ve asked him to let me in. I’ve never… I’ve never killed someone like that before.”

“Like what?” He looks at you now, eyebrows slackening at the tremble in your voice. “You were all too willing to pull the trigger on me.”

“Self-defense is different.” You look away, curling your legs to your chest. “I’ve never…murdered someone. I’ve seen it happen before, but I can’t. That’s why I’m so good at running.”

Touya stills, seemingly taking in your words, sifting through them like one would examine sand through a looking a glass. Finally, he sighs.  

“He’s not dead.” You glance at him; that didn’t really seem like he was talking to you, so you let it rest in the air like that. His eyes shine in the dying fire before they flicker and pin themselves to you.

“So that’s why’re you alone, then? Couldn’t kill someone?”

Your lips twist into a frown, and you look away from him, resting your chin on your knees. Your mind is a swirl of blazing violet eyes, crimson full of rage, viridian vexed of indecision. “My last group was falling apart. Left before things got ugly, been on my own since.”

“How long ago was that?” Touya asks quietly.

You peek at him warily. “Long enough.”

He nods at you at that, grunting as he lays down and gets comfortable. You take that as his signal that conversation is over and follow suit, inching closer to the tiny flames that you vainly pray will last the night.

The night passes but sleep does not come for you, held at bay by memories that you wish would fade as quickly as the fire seems to, a deep cold settling over you as the embers turn to smoke. You pull the blanket tighter around you, now scared to sleep in case you don’t wake up.

“Well fuck,” Touya sighs, sitting up and leaning on his palms. You can hear his teeth chattering. With the fire gone you can’t see his face, there’s no lighting coming through the covered windows either. “Daylight’s still a few hours off. That sucks, ain’t nothing for it.”

“What?”

He rolls into your space and you try to scramble away from him, only for him to yank you to his chest and curl and arm around your back.

“You’re fucking insane.”

“No, I’m fucking freezing, and not interested in dying. You interested in dying? Or I don’t know, losing a few fingers and toes?”

You glare into his chest, clenching your jaw to keep your teeth from echoing his own chattering.

“That’s what I thought.”

After your racing heart settles, you hate to admit that it’s the only way. Wrapped up in his arms, tugged tight to his chest like this…it’s still cold, but an endurable kind of cold, the kind that has you worming your way closer to him to make it less uncomfortable. 

“Don’t,” you warn him as you feel his cheek stretch into a grin against your temple.

“Alright, alright. Fine. Could make this nicer, you know. Just sayin’.”

Suspicion blooms in your chest at his cheeky attempt at charm. “What are you talking about?”

A growl tears up your throat as he rolls you onto your back, ready to shove him off but you tense in shock as he leans down and closes his lips on the spot right beneath your ear. You exhale sharply on instinct. You haven’t been touched like this since—you slam your mind closed on those thoughts and try to think through his tongue tracing over your pulse point.

“Wh– what are you doing?”

“‘M gonna make you warm,” he whispers, nosing up and nipping lightly at the shell of your ear.

“Holy fuck, you are crazy. I’m not sleeping with you,” you hiss sharply, trying to wiggle away from him.

Touya tosses his head back in a wry laugh. “Sweetheart, if you think I’m dropping my pants in a blizzard, you’re crazier than me.”

“Then, then wh—”

“Shut up and stop thinking for a minute, won’tcha?” Touya grumbles and lowers himself back towards you, capturing your lips and working your mouth open with a little rumble of approval when you relax back to the floor. One hand comes up to hold your cheek, fingers cradled around the back of your head and the way he groans into your mouth sends a heatwave of embarrassment and arousal crackling across your body.

He paws at your covered chest, something warm and hard digging into your thigh as he grinds against you, and you resist the insane urge to wrap your legs around his waist.

Like he’s reading your mind, long fingers dig into one of your thighs and hike it up, and you gasp into his mouth as he shifts and suddenly his clothed dick is pressed hard against your core.

“Oh, you ain’t so hard are you?” Touya chuckles as you bite his lower lip in retaliation. You can almost imagine his eyes flashing at you as he begins to grind against you in slow, controlled motions. Your clit throbs underneath the rub of denim, and you can feel yourself slowly soaking through the material of your panties. “Still fiesty though. ‘S nice.”

“Fuck you.”

Touya groans, fingers digging into your hips as if trying to pull you up into him. “Don’t make me think about that, darlin’”

“Not your darling.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep reminding me darlin’.”

He moans low and sweet into into your neck, suckling softly in one spot and continually moving to the next. It’s maddening and you keep shifting and rocking your body into to his, feeling pleasure unfurl in you so hot and deep, clit pulsing and sensitive, sparking until you’re sure it’s going to take you apart.

Touya stiffens, hips jumping before he grits his teeth and collapses gently over your chest, fists curled tight on either side of your head. The swirling ball of pleasure that had been moments from reach boils and begins to fade, leaving you gasping in frustration.

“Seriously, you’re stopping now?” you whine, squirming when he holds you in place. 

“‘M not interest in finding out how fast my pants would freeze to my dick with spunk all twisted up in there,” he snarls under his breath, biting back the urge to keep rutting against your body. “Believe me, sweetheart. Blueballing myself is not the end goal here. Fuck. You’re warm now, yeah?”

You’re struggling to get your heavy breaths under control, not giving him the satisfaction of a response. You’re warm all over, but you don’t know how long that’s gonna last. 

Touya grabs the ends of the blankets and makes sure they’re tucked around you both, shifting so that he’s no longer on top of you, but on his side next to you. “Then fucking sleep, okay? I know you haven’t yet. We’ll figure it out later. Deal?”

You snort. By figure it out, you wonder if he’s talking about the thing still twitching against your hip, or the whole mess of a situation. But either way, you’re heeding him. As the rush slowly drifts from your system, exhaustion takes over and you find yourself dead asleep, tucked under his arm. 

[mychlapci]

Someone inspired me with their thunderclash/roddy pill mention so of course my brain went…

What if Ratchet did the same to Roddy because he & drift want a sparkling but neither are the type to carry and they don’t want a spark from a hot spot and they can’t since they aren’t on cybertron. So their best bet is to find a mech who can carry and guess who is the perfect mech with a very high fertility before he even gained the matrix?

Thats right, Roddy.

And who’s the mech desperate to make up for the all pain they caused their amica and said amica’s conjunx?

You guessed it, Roddy.

So of course Ratchet plans to ask Rodimus to carry for himself and Drift. He knows both speedsters still have deep feelings for the other and he can admit he likes the flame racer quite a bit too.

So why not ask?

Well, Rodimus hates his status and ability to carry and how fertile he is. He out right admits at the bar he’s on very heavy meds to keep from getting sparked while wearing a tank bolt and using spike wraps. He openly says he never wants to have a sparkling or lose his figure.

The words are a major hurt and disappointment for Ratchet and he can see it in his conjunxs eyes even if he didn’t know about Ratchets plan. Ratchet knew Drift had a fantasy about Rodimus carrying ever since he was Deadlock, he just never admitted it.

Sooo maybe Ratchet decided he didn’t like the spark broken look on his conjunx at Rodimus words.

Maybe Ratchet decided Rodimus needed a mandatory cheek up after a long enough period. He’s typically thorough in all his examinations of patients so its no shock when he checks Rodimus’s tank bolt.

It’s nothing for him to tamper with the bolt and pop it off without Rodimus knowing.

The mech feels lighter on his pedes without it and leaves with a bounce in his step on his way to get his medication that Ratchet later on switched to placebo pills after going to rodimus hab suite with Drift and excused himself to use the wash racks?

Maybe he mentions the idea of a drinking game a few days later to Drift so it would land all three of them with a couple bottles of energon, low lighting and a charged captain that ends up in berth with the two of them?

Things are awkward at first when Rodimus wakes up furiously apologizing and leaking thinking he’s ruined things between them but Drift is quick to assure him everything is fine, more than fine really and the subject of adding another to their relationship is suddenly brought up but Ratchet doesn’t mind the least. It really goes all together with his plan, something he wishes he thought of in the first place.

The two make it back to their own hab suite where Ratchet is thinking of ways to ask Drift why admit now he wants Rodimus when he hadn’t before and without saying anything to him. Only to be met with Rodimus’s actual medicine pack in Drift’s servos with the mech looking at him with such an unreadable face plate.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“I…”

“You should’ve told me.”

“Wait. what?”

“I knew. Roddy said he left a check up with you. But it wasn’t his turn to get a check up just yet. I know, because I always remind him to schedule it right after my own.”

Ratchet was at a lost for words and Drift steps closer to him.

“I know why you did it,” Drift hugs him and Ratchet feels the world spin as he wraps his conjunx in his arms.

“I wish you would’ve told me from the start. I would’ve helped ya know? I don’t like secrets between us, though, its still a nice surprise.”

What could Ratchet really say to that?

Drift tells him they get a sparkling and he gets Rodimus. He asks what he can do for Ratchet getting him such wonderful gifts that he’s always wanted and Ratchet just—

“I want those things too.”

So to their happiness and elation and Rodimus’s greatest despair and terror, he’s sparked from that night.

So many tears, a lot of broken things in his office to later his hab suite that he trashes before eventually clawing at his own frame and tanks in pure distress before Drift and Ratchet have to grab and sedate him.

They learn the news when Ratchet does a scan after they lay him in the med bay and through a lot of tears on Rodimus part and reassurance on Drift and Ratchets, they convince Rodimus to keep the sparkling and even share hab suites to help him better in this process.

Just Ratchet doing a dirty underhanded thing and Drift finding out on his own only to join in and really help seal the deal. They got what they wanted.

A sparkling and Rodimus.

And said bot is none the wiser to any of this till he’s in the half mark of carrying and finds his actual pills that they forgot to get rid of.

But by then its too late and he’s already more in love with the two but now there’s this underlying fear and anxious curl in his being every time he looks at them to the point he doesn’t want them to touch him.

I would guess he admits he knows when laying in berth and the two become worried at their breaking point when Rodimus won’t allow them to touch him even though he needs it for a healthy carrying and sparkling.

Just all of them messed up from this outcome but still staying together?

I probably should’ve posted this myself instead of putting all this in your ask box 😭

OHohoh we are stealing Rodimus’ birth control again. yeah, oh yeah, Ratchet meddling with Rodimus’ very meticulous installed birth control because he and Drift are too old to spark, so why not have Rodimus make up for all the ways he’d hurt Drift by carrying their sparkling? Getting Roddy tipsy and dragging him into their bed is the easy part…

god i just love creepy older couple dratchet.

Once Rodimus is knocked up against his will and knows that they’ve both planned it this way he’s too numb to freak out. He withholds sex from them, hoping he can halt the carrying cycle by not taking any transfluid, but that thing just holds on and he eventualy gives in. Once the sparkling is about to pop out, Rodimus feels just too ugly to go to someone else… but Drift and Ratchet still want to interface with him, even though his belly is stretched out and his waist is filling out, and he knows no one else will want him more than they do at this point.

Drift and Ratchet love him, in their own way, he knows that...

[bunny-heels]

oh i should give my thoughts on Final Draft since i finally finished it. spoilers below

so the ONLY thing i didn't like was that there wasnt a lot of new manuscripts or videos to find. i probably missed a couple pages because i didnt look around as much, but i am sad that the 3rd Darling video is gonna be for the Lake House and the 2nd Door video is gonna be for Night Springs. i dont mind waiting to see them but i wish the collectibles menu didnt list it as incomplete cause its not even in the game yet. but i'll gladly wait to see them.

okay on to actual thoughts.

finding the dark poems on the surface world was a big splash of whiplash, and i liked how they were placed throughout the game, especially with the order of how i switch realities, it felt perfect.

the beginning with Saga telling Casey that she used to be into geology and she helped Logan with a science fair project, but basically did it for her and Casey going "oh thats basically a CRIME, Anderson". that was adorable. i love their dynamic so much it hurts.

ALSO IM SO HAPPY THEY PUT IN THE LINES FOR THE SALT SHAKER MEMORY. i'll come clean and say i've heard the audio before from when my boyfriend went through the files, but it made me so happy to hear it in-game. Casey is so fucking cute. and the fact that Saga notes that Casey doesn't joke around with literally anyone else, showing that he trusts Saga so much. i love this man i love him i love him i need to nibble on him like a dog nibbles on a plush toy

Darling's videos were very fun to watch. i loved that he didn't really care that he was trapped in the Dark Place because to him it was just a new thing to research and make experiments with. i'm assuming after he realized Alan sounded like him that he tried not to think about too much at first, but that's definitely going to be something that fucks with his brain later

Darling and Zane fucked for sure im convinced of that. if i had to pair any other characters together besides Saga and Casey then it's Darling and Zane. fucking Zane saying Kippis as he takes a drink with him too. i'm killing this man. theres apparently a theory that they both created Alan and that's why he looks like Zane but sounds like Darling. if thats true, then Sam Lake is a fucking genius for making it that a brilliant artist and an advanced scientist made the stupidest writer son on the planet and it somehow worked. at least the one thing they have in common is all three of them deep down have selfish bastard tendencies.

but even if Alan's a bastard he loves Alice so so so fucking much and it was literally their love and memories of each other that brought them back together along with Saga putting some sense into him to actually think about others, not just him and Alice. i hope Alice is doing okay and that she got to be reunited with Alan as soon as possible.

Tor and Odin showing up in the Dark Place was adorable, and im so happy that apparently they're fine with Door now, after what happened in '88. i'm assuming what brought them to finally come to an agreement was that they wanted what was best for Saga and Alan. i hope Logan and David get to meet Tor and Odin at some point in-canon, even if its off screen. i'm still curious on what's gonna happen the next time Alan and Door meet, or when that's even gonna happen, but i guess that's either gonna be in the DLCs or even in Control 2. i also hope Tim gets out and gets to finally be face-to-face to Door, which is probably also gonna happen in either DLC or Control 2.

finally the ending. i thought it was perfect. i've seen people say it was too easy and that there shouldve been more ambiguity. i'll be honest, i think the ending is a perfect blend of closure and opened interpretation. Alan finally got out and Logan is alive now, which is wonderful, but now it's the question of what's happening outside the writer's room. what's going on at the Lake House? why did the FBC go dark? did Tim get out? are Saga and Casey now going to be dragged into the FBC full-time because Kiran deputized them?

we also still don't know what happened to Darling after meeting with Tom [at least i havent cause i refuse to watch the leaked third video]. is Darling gonna be able to figure out his way through the Dark Place? is he gonna get the chance to meet Door and Tim? is he gonna indirectly cause Jesse or Dylan or both of them to go into the Dark Place in Control 2? is Darling being the Dark Place a good thing at all? does he ever figure out how he ended up there after trying to stop the Hiss? is he aware that Trench is gone and Jesse is the new Director?

i think the most the ending does is just show that Alan's part in the RCU is MOSTLY done, at least for now. to me this looks like a chance for him to show up more often in other things and to maybe help with what's happening at the FBC. the most i hope for him at the moment is he meets up with Alice again, and ESPECIALLY meets up with Barry, though i hope the Blessed organization haven't done anything to him, which is another thing that i hope gets touched on.

anyways i'm very happy i finished it im so excited :]

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here friend, hoping your in the mood for some incoherent Friday rambling because that's where I'm at right now and have been for days. First off, i think we should both thank and curse the new intern 911 hired, who apparently switched out the promo team's decaf for some Columbian dark roast. Seriously after spending the first half of the season practically catatonic between episodes suddenly we can't catch a break for even 24 hours before the next unhinged thing comes out. Next, let's

thank Mr. Ryan Guzman for looking at his character's scene notes, apparently rolling his eyes, and deciding to take matters into his own hands. Look, I'm not trying to say the rest of the 118 doesn't look devastated, but Eddie looks like he's about to start bawling on the floor and that's the real reason he grabbed Chim. I'll come back to this but his moments sure don't hit like pure platonic concern, there is some real desperation there. Also not to bring up KR rambling but lady if you were so surprised by Ryan's performance and didn't want it to come across like THAT, aren't you in charge? Couldn't you make the call and say "I need you to give me less"?? Anyway, the parallels between this and Eddie's shooting are ridiculous, so I also gave to think if this isn't going somewhere what the fuck is the point?? Why go through all this trouble to make it so obvious and heartfelt and hurt so much if it just goes back to business as usual?? That more than anything would piss me off. Yes, let Buck learn a thing or two about his own worth (we've only been waiting SEASONS for it), but also can we stop pretending putting these two specific characters in these life and death scenarios where they have to watch the other dying and their whole world looks like it's coming apart doesn't mean anything?? Finally (for now) here's what I'd like to see next episode. We know Buck is going to see the people he loves but not in the way he knows he knows them. So I'd love to be what prompts him to wake is seeing Chris. But not just any version of him. This Chris is an orphan, his mom died and there wasn't anyone to save his Dad from getting shot. He lives with his grandparents (pre Ramon reckoning), he had to go to them since there was no other parent in Eddie's life to take care of him. So this bright, brave kid is now sad and scared of the world, and Buck knows its wrong. I'll leave you with this mess of thoughts 😭.

Hello friend! We had people over this evening so I'm trying to get this done before I get to bed because I really do need to clear out my inbox (RIP to everyone who came to be salty with me and KR's interviews because we immediately got sneak peeks and poker stills and DO MORE, and my brain went offline).

Seriously, I don't know who started slipping the promo team cocaine but damn. Let us REST for a second! Between them and the fandom coming out in FORCE to wreck us or be horny on main, it's A Lot and I need sleep!

Ryan is out here giving us The Most and KR acting *shocked pikachu* about it just shows how much she sleeps on Ryan as an actor and Eddie as a character.I rewatched 6x10 and like, I know he's got a lot next episode but for a premier maybe we could have checked in with him and Chris since we checked in with literally everyone else at their homes? I'm trying not to be too negative because after s5 and 6a, this is THEE most excited I've been in awhile and I really do think the show is at least trying to course correct after....whatever TF 6a was and the weirdness of s5.

And the stuff with Eddie, it's like, you're right they COULD tell him to do less! They could say "this is what we're looking for" or at least "this is what we're NOT looking for" but clearly his actions were signed off on and made it to air knowing full well what people would see when they watched it. And what you see is a man desperately broken by the possibility of losing his partner. Which is GREAT if the show is working on a s7 Buddie reveal plan (I'm with @outrunningthedark I don't think they want to overshadow the Madney moment coming up which is fine), but it's....disappointing when there is so much good stuff going on right now and all KR wants to talk about is how much fun they had forcing Eddie "they're not really my type" Diaz to casually date randos because that's something he's ever been interested in doing. He really seems like a guy that enjoys wasting his limited free time meeting lots of new people only interested in getting into his pants instead of taking care of his partner who literally died for several minutes, and doing things with his son. Sure Jan. FFS, read the room! Or read the character profile before you start throwing storylines at the wall to see what sticks (lookin' at you sperm donor plot that is apparently giving Nothing). Yeah, yeah, managing expectations with a showrunner like her is good, but it's also a lot of whiplash right now between what we're seeing on our screens and what she's trying to TELL us we're seeing on our screens. I'm just so sick of them giving what should be THEE moment for Buddie only to follow it up by shoving some woman between them like "oh, nothing to see here!" Give me a break. And then what are they going to do for the actual reveal? How are they going to raise the stakes AGAIN? How are they going to be like, "yeah this is the 5th time one of us has almost died, but THIS time it's allowed to be an "Oh" moment for us because TPTB finally signed off on it!" 🙄🙄🙄 On the bright side, the Buddie of it all has kept the show trending off an on for almost two weeks and will certainly continue through next week so at least whoever is paying attention to that stuff and saw how dead everything was after the finale has some comparison to work with!

ANYWAY

Sad an lonely Chris would be HEARTBREAKING and my heart couldn't take it! 😭😭😭 That boy deserves ONLY good things! I will say I am a little...not mad but I am certainly side-eyeing this coma storyline seeming to be about how Buck's work as a firefighter is what changed everyone's lives because like, YES him being at the 118 changed everything for everyone, but also this is the guy who panic-sued the department to get back to work because he felt worthless if he wasn't doing his job. Which we then found out stemmed from childhood trauma and neglect, but right now, for where he's at, he's not questioning his choice of job so he doesn't need a push like Eddie to come back to where he belongs. And he's already wrapped up in a storyline that SHOULD be about him giving up parts and pieces of himself to make other's happy at cost to his own happiness (though right now we don't know WHAT it's suppose to be about since he's not going to struggle with walking away per Oliver and he's not learning anything so what's the point?). So how is better for him to be facing a life where Daniel lived and he's loved and happy (which is what they've been making it sound like) but everyone at the 118 is a mess without him, proving that it's better for everyone ELSE if he sacrifices everything and doesn't get the happy life he always dreamed of? Like I'm not trying to be negative and I'm still REALLY excited about the episode (as you can see from my unhinged posting this week) and I just KNOW everyone's performances are going to slay us, and this storyline might go differently than I'm expecting and be something really great! But I'm just...getting my side-eyes out because if KR has proved anything it's that she can't plan a fucking arc for shit, and she lacks a basic understanding of the trauma and driving forces behind the characters.

Final note because I didn't want to end on that one, I think everyone in the firefam deserves an Emmy for what they're going to give us and I am READY for their reactions to rip my heart out and stomp on it. It is TIME Buck wakes up with his REAL family around his bed and knows how very much he is loved for just being Buck and how hard they fought to bring him back to them, because he's their family and they CHOOSE him. Buck is always the one being left, but he's going to wake up and hear how everyone he loves begged him to stay with them. It's going to be *delicious*

[kiri-cuts]

An adorable Nietzsche death star in “The Super Mario Bros. Movie”

For a few months back in the thick isolating tar of 2020, I sat in my damp one-bedroom flat and dramatically envisioned myself as Artex, the ethereal equine who sinks into the Swamp of Sadness in “The Neverending Story.” “Blub, blub,” I’d say to the quiet company of mold in the corners of the walls. “Down I go.” 

I’d dream about my head sinking promptly into the muck, one feature at a time. My round chin and miserable little downturned mouth checking themselves in at the one-star beach resort of death called Depression, my flared nostrils padding themselves closed with soil, my eyes nestling into the sweet slumber of swampytime. My hair would be the last to go, submerging itself with all the joyful enthusiasm of a lump of sugar into a thick latte foam. 

As it turns out, the Swamp of Sadness ain’t worth shit. Pull yourself into its deepest and most suffocating clot all you want, but you’ll still have to work, eat, do the dishes, wake up every day, etc. Artex never had that problem –- lucky bastard –- and the brochure for Depression certainly left those details out of its marketing spiel (no wonder it was only a one-star resort). 

A few months earlier I’d bought a Nintendo Switch on an impulse purchase. It was an item I couldn’t particularly afford, but brains pushing for death don’t exactly fixate on such details. And so it was that I played “Mario Odyssey” in the midst of an agonising funk, and on a daily basis the aforementioned swamp would get temporarily hosed off. For much of the game, I was horrendous at preserving Mario’s life. The little jump-crazed dungaree enthusiast died a million deaths –- each one more punishing and avoidable than the last. 

This was never intentional, I’m just terrible at games. But as it went on, and the game progressed, I realised that this was potentially the entire point of many Super Mario games and others of its ilk. As each level wore on, muscle memory kicked in and I fell into the various bouncy rhythms of survival that Mario has to offer. 

In order to be victorious, Mario had to repeatedly eat shit. He had to fall off walls, ricochet off lava, get his arse chewed out by a mega-chain chomp, and drown. And then next time, maybe he wouldn’t. In fact, death helps to ease the navigation for the next attempt –- you know what not to do and where not to do it. As Friedrich Nietzsche once said, “Death is close enough at hand so we do not need to be afraid of life.” Amen, brother. 

This mechanism is referenced within “The Super Mario Bros. Movie,” in which Mario –- in an attempt to simultaneously impress his bird and save his cowardly brother –- must complete a treacherous obstacle course. And of course, he absolutely eats shit in his first attempt –- but he gets better. 

Perhaps the greatest reflection of this ideology, though, comes courtesy of a luminescent glow of nihilism called Lumalee –- a delightful prisoner caged up in Bowser’s dungeon who cheerfully proclaims an abundance of cynical statements in favor of death. “There is no escape. The only hope is the sweet relief of death,” they joyfully muse. Later, when the film’s finished, they gleefully tell the audience, “Everything’s over now and all that’s left is you and infinite void.” Our boy Nietzsche would be proud. 

For those in the know (so, not me), Lumalee is based on a species of creatures called Luma from “Super Mario Galaxy.” At the end of that game, a whole adorable group of them happily kamikaze into death’s sweet embrace courtesy of a black hole fashioned by Bowser. Like Steve-O in a glass factory, these little cuties just absolutely love the chaos of life, the natural sting of pain, and the delicious thrall of extinction. It really puts things in perspective. 

While I have no doubt there are some players who can walk through every level of any “Super Mario” game without a single misstep or death –- just as there are people in this world who have likely never had to face a single day of depression or anxiety –- the purpose is to repeatedly face death. To endure it, to return to it, to vanquish it. Live, die, repeat. Collect enough hearts in the game, and you’re more or less impervious to whatever spikes life –- or levels –- have in store for you. As Nietzsche once put it, “One has to pay dearly for immortality; one has to die several times while one is still alive.” And Mario does, good sir. Oh, how he does. And he absolutely motherfucking loves it, too. 

And I can’t lie, after I’d gatecrashed Bowser’s wedding, smashed his bird, and drank the free bar of his castle dry to the point that I could reach the “Mario Odyssey” finale, I actually felt emotional. Me and this little Italian plumber had been through so many deaths together and come through it all smiling –- just a couple of big cocky lads kicking over the big boi’s nuptials bash. Somehow, I didn’t feel the sweet embrace of that swamp anymore. In fact, I momentarily forgot it existed. And yes, so I then got up everyday, and I ate shit everyday –- we all did, and we still do. But there are so many 1-Ups. And when all else fails, there’s always nihilism.

[justmybookthots]

Six of Crows

4/5 stars

After two years (ish) I have finally finished Six of Crows. Uh, that is not to say that I really sat there and read page after page for years. What I really mean is that I borrowed the library book, tried to read it, but got bored midway. My brain was really tired of its world-building, among other things. I also tried to read an e-copy of it but that was met with spectacular failure. So I stopped trying for ages. 

Anyway. Fast forward about a year or so and I have started reading fantasy books, heralded by my obsession with Cruel Prince (though Serpent and the Wings of Night is technically what started it). NOW, I tell myself, I'm ready for SoC. It's been sitting pretty on my TBR-fantasy shelf ever since I started reading fantasy again.

I don't know if the past months of reading fantasy books have kind of equipped my brain for its world-building or something, because this time, chapters are much, much easier to digest. I'm actually following what's going on. Maybe my attention span is also a bit better. 

Whatever it is, it gets me through the first chapter (which was… kind of a weak opening, but that's just me), and soon enough I'm storming through the subsequent ones. 

I have so many thoughts about this book. My enjoyment level was kind of tumultuous—I went from hesitant to really enjoying the banter to getting a bit bored at certain parts once they broke out of the prison, then felt my enjoyment (hmm… maybe engagement is a better word) picking up again when Nina encountered Brum. I was screaming, it's a trap! But she fell for it anyway. 

I'm generally not very good with stories that are setting-heavy—meaning a lot of the plot circles around navigating through places and secret bridges and tunnels and so on. And for a heist, it is so important to know what the setting is like and how they work around it. So I won't lie; parts of my brain switched off a little at certain stages. I will need to do a reread on those sections to better figure out what's happening, like how swimming through the water led Kaz, Matthedious—as I like to call him—and Nina out to the other side. I mean, I think I know, but I was very tired at that point so I still wanna reread to be sure.

I also was not a huge fan of the flashback dump in the middle of the story. Nina, after healing Inej? Flashback! Matthedious, brooding in the boat? Flashback! 

I think flashbacks could do better when it fits the plot—like Kaz fainting because of too much physical contact and then getting his flashback on what caused it was much more fitting on Leigh's part, imo. 

So my biggest two issues are the placement of flashbacks and the heaviness on setting, but I 100% know the latter is my problem, so the former is technically my only valid point. 

NOW—to what I enjoyed.

The characters are great. I think the standout is obviously Kaz, who is my favourite character and who reminds me a lot of Artemis Fowl, but minus the techno stuff and assuming he was thrown into the Grishaverse. He's just terrific and I've always been a fan of smart, manipulative characters that are shown, not told, and there were definitely a lot of both here. But the telling was supported by the showing, which I so, so appreciate because this is not as common as it should be. 

Inej is my second favourite, tied with Wylan. That bitch is a motherfucking QUEEN, and she is just *chef's kiss*. Strong but not invulnerable, and also her not staying for Kaz in Ketterdam because she didn't care for anything less than what she deserved is EVERYTHING to me. I'm not sure what to make of her piety, though, but it plays off on Kaz nicely. Wylan, I just am partial to because I have a thing for soft boys with puppy faces and curly hair. And also I think he has a lot of potential which I hope will be explored in the next book. 

Also, Kaz roasting him SENT ME:

I'm fine with Jesper. He's all right. I didn't see the Fabrikator twist coming though. I was like, WHAT?? 

Now. For the characters who weren't all right for me; they range from I'm-not-sure-how-to-feel to pure dislike. Nina is the former, and based on my nickname for the last Crow, I think you can guess who's the latter.

I just do not understand Nina. Even until now I don't really have a full grasp of her character. At the beginning, she seems to really dislike Kaz's lack of moral fibre, based off her exchange with him:

But then not too long later, this happens:

I am just so confused by her, and while I was gasping aloud when she took the drug at the end to save everyone (made me respect her a lot), I still don't know what kind of person Nina is. She feels all over the place. 

I don't even want to talk about Matthedious. He's a man laden with prejudices and toxic masculinity, which, to be fair, is shaped by his upbringing, but he's just very narrow-minded and stupid. Anything he can't understand, he dubs them as witch, or demon, and so on. He's just an angry oaf. I don't know what to say. There's really nothing much to say about him, though I do want to add that his character arc was extremely unconvincing for me. 

A plot point I really enjoyed in this book: Jesper using his Fabrikator skills on that diamond and Wylan building a drill with said diamond, then Inej breaking in to take that tank. Love that she got revenge on Heleen in that moment, and also JUST LOVE THE TRIO for using all their skills as a team. I did not see the tank infiltration coming at all, and it was awesomeeeee. 

Another plot point, however, made me go, UHHHH:

KAZ. 🤢

Overall, a solid book. I loved most of the banter, though there are a few times when it falls flat. I was about to rate the story 3 stars midway through, but the later half really picked up and saved it for me. Also what is with that ending? To be fair, I did think it'd be too good to be true if they got the money, but I didn't expect Queen Inej to be taken?????

I'll probably start on Crooked Kingdom soon,  but who's to say? I just hope I won't start it two years (ish) later. 

- 22 July 2023

[musette22]

OH @brooklynbear32, I love that so much! Ah! I don't mean to hijack your very lovely idea, but my brain is yelling Shrunkyclunks fic ideas at me so I hope you don't mind if I just throw it out here? 🙈

Maybe Bucky Barnes and his sister Becca run a B&B somewhere in upstate New York, and maybe the Avengers manage to save that B&B (along with its owners) from some kind of alien/giant lizard/random bad guy attack one day. Maybe Bucky and Becca are so thankful for this that they decide to extend an open invitation to the Avengers to come and stay at their slightly-banged-up-but-fortunately-not-totalled little B&B (which includes a modest spa) for as long as they like, free of charge. Because they'd like to give something back, and because they figure with all that fighting and saving the world they do, the Avengers deserve to switch off and be pampered a little sometimes, too.

Of course, Thor is off-world again and doesn't even receive the invite, Tony can afford the best hotels the world has to offer so thanks but no thanks, Bruce already books himself into a spa every now and then as part of his relaxation routine, and Clint says he gets plenty of R&R at his farm, but Steve. Steve thinks it sounds... nice. He's curious enough that he looks up the B&B online, and it looks cozy and warm, nothing like the almost clinical, minimalist high-end hotels and spas he's been to with the team. He imagines himself sitting in one of those comfy armchairs, reading one of the many books that line the bookshelves next to the fireplace, and he just thinks it would be... nice. Unfortunately, he's never been very good at doing nice things for himself, or at accepting charity for that matter. Other people deserve it more than him, after all.

But to Steve's surprise, Natasha (who was lazing next to him on the couch while he was browsing) unexpectedly announces she'd like to take the Barnes B&B up on their offer ("they've got four cats, Steve"), but that she'd feel better if someone went with her. And Steve may know that Natasha can more than fend for herself, but he is ultimately too much of a gentleman to tell her no when she asks him to accompany her (Natasha, of course, was counting on this fact. Steve makes it too easy, really).

So off they go, just Steve and Nat, to stay at the quaint little B&B in the countryside for a couple of days or maybe even longer, Avengering permitting.

Cue Steve stammering through their introductions when one of the Barnes siblings, Bucky, turns out to be the most stunning man he's ever laid eyes on. Cue Bucky being inordinately charmed by this tall, very handsome and very buff superhero who effusively compliments Bucky's signature scrambled eggs, insists on taking out the trash, and mostly just seems to want to sit in an armchair with a book and a cup of tea, if he isn't chatting to Bucky while he's going about his daily chores. Cue Steve, who's only wearing a tiny towel, breaking out into a full-body blush when he realises that Bucky is the one who will be giving him his massage. Cue Natasha and Becca gleefully watching these to idiots moon over each other and helping them out (i.e. ganging up on them) by engineering various situations in which Bucky and Steve find themselves suddenly alone in secluded locations. And cue, eventually, Steve and Bucky confessing their feelings, Steve retiring from active duty and taking over co-running the B&B from Becca, who's decided she'd like to go back to college and pursue the law degree she'd always dreamed off.

Once the B&B has been re-christened "Barnes' & Rogers' Bed & Breakfast", even Tony decides to deign it with a visit. There's no way he's going to pass up the chance to a) see Steve wearing an apron, b) annoy him by requesting five different kinds of eggs at breakfast, and c) watch Steve looking truly happy for the first time since they've know him, totally in his element running this quaint little B&B with his charming lumberjack boyfriend and his four adopted cats (obviously, though, Tony would rather go to therapy and talk about his feelings than confess to that last one).

[kylekozmikdeluxo]

Warning, gonna get political in this personal #longpost:

I've seen some compare the feverish support for VP Kamala Harris in her circling of the 2024 nomination to the wave the lot of us felt in 2008 when Obama was running for president and eventually won.

Weirdly enough, the 2008 election was coinciding with a time in my life where things pendulum-swung from utterly miserable to what seemed like the happiest of times. While this year isn't as terrible as that year, it's been pretty rough for me... and with this election coming up, should we prevail and defeat fascism once again, seems to indicate that things could get better for me.

Last weekend, I took Sunday off. I wanted to have a complete battery-recharge day. Funnily enough, that Sunday was when President Biden announced that he wasn't going to run for re-election, and his immediate endorsement of Harris... And then the subsequent outpouring of support for her, and ongoing support... This past week, despite work bogging me down and other crap, I've been feeling strangely optimistic about things...

And I remembered 2008... Right around this time. I was simultaneously feeling miserable and bleak about life and the future in general, but also in total "fuck it" mode. Ready to get out of this miserable feeling and be a relatively happy teenager again. As I got closer to being out of high school, with junior year around the corner, and an election... Though the contradictory thing is, I was far less liberal than I am back in 2008. And that was largely because, I feel, I was young and dumb. Susceptible to what most of my family, who range from fairly conservative to far right MAGA, believed and told me. But even back in 2008, I knew something was up and I didn't believe it entirely... And as the years went by, and I started to see through all of that libertarian "liberals are anti-American and will take away your freedom!" nonsense, I rediscovered that I was always lefter than the center.

So, 2024... I'm 31 going on 32, I'm much more aware than I was in 2008, and am indeed voting for Kamala. Yet I see some parallels... Life's far from great for me right now, and I would like to feel better about things and where I'll be standing - financially - in the future. Ya know, wanting stability and those kinds of things. 15-year-old me in July 2008 was also tired of feeling like crap. And feeling like the worst person in the world, and was more than ready to finally be out of school one day.

And by the autumn of 2008, I was almost mentally unstoppable. Like, I was barely bothered by virtually anything, until a death in the family had happened at the end of March 2009 and sent my brain into an anxiety spiral. So, that was an idea of how things changed, as life got different and weirder and better. I might not have seen it back then, but Obama winning after eight years of the misery and the crushing weight of the Bush administration really was a sign of things switching gears... And I see that with Kamala. I see that with the subtle shifts, such as the decline in taking the high road when telling off MAGA assholes hurling harmful accusations at anyone who even slightly opposes them. This J.D. Vance turd is giving Sarah Palin vibes, but worse. The couch stuff is genuinely hilarious, and it's just so cool to see the lot of us finally taking the gloves off and just hitting these fuckfaces where it hurts.

But it's just fitting because it's a somewhat younger candidate, and one who isn't a white guy at that, facing off against... An old, deteriorating white windbag who refuses to go away, fascism personified trying once again to barge its ugly head into our lives. Much in the same way the McCain-Palin ticket looked to be a continuation of the usual Bush-style misery and economic woes. This is the Former Guy's third go at running, and he lost the popular vote twice despite the Electoral College going "lol nope" to the 65m people who voted for Hillary in 2016. 3 strikes, 'yer out. Like others, I feel the seismic shift. Former Guy blubbers like a buffoon, nearly got taken out by one of his OWN types, and picked a real winner of a running mate... While Kamala really rose up and took this past week by storm. What was once a sea of despair is now suddenly full of hope...

And taking that mental health day last Sunday really just amplified that for me. While I'm grateful for this current Presidency's progress and that they staved off fascism for a few years... I picture this all like a DARK SOULS-esque boss battle, the scary killer boss being MAGA/the GOP/the whole right... And at the moment, I saw Biden as a sort of heart health. A few little ones, that were dropped into the arena and we were able to stay alive during the fight. But now it feels like a pretty solid power-up or weapon was dropped into the arena, and we have more of a chance to not only narrowly defeat this beast, but also do it without being exhausted by the end of all. I don't know, it just feels good that we're running her against that clown, and not someone who might not make it to the end of their second term. And that's what I like about this, it seems as if Biden did this for the country instead of clinging to his power for another long period of time... like OTHERS tend to do.

Anyways, I hope we win in November, and that my life is way better around that time than it is currently...

[miamoo27]

I am burnt out. I get excited to go to work now because I have a crush on my co worker who has a gf. He asks me to smoke with him and when we do, its fun, friendly but theres this tension. Im not sure its because we are the opposite sex or because there is something there. The left part of my brain is telling me to not event think of that since he has a girlfriend. Someone else has a 100 percent crush on me at work and they are a "christian" a deep devoted one. I do not like them like that. They are nice but there issues with religion is insane. Speaking of religion my mother bases her life off patriarchial POV in some sick tradition italian way (sorry to my ancestors). Her whole world view is her families. I suggested maybe it is time to move past that if its not working. I told her to switch her perpective look at all the things you did as a woman that you were told you couldnt. I wish she could see that. She also has an eating disorder which she isnt aware of. My father is now concerned which makes me equally concerned because if he is then there is definetly a problem. He finally saw its a psychological issue with her not eating. We went out and she ate none of her fish. She inspires to be skinny. Gets mad for eating pasta. Wears my pants because hers are too big. Sometimes being around her makes me feel fat because she never eats and all i do is eat. But during the day I barely want food I wish there was a pill to stop me from exhaustion and burn out. I said many times the past two days "I am having a mental break down." I wanted to throw up after the meeting at work. I smoked with Adam I felt better but stilll felt panic from the unease I felt since sunday nigt. I have my period it sucks. I havent had sex in two months, it sucks. I cried on my floor because my mom or me potentially lost my adderal. My dad displined me about getting my own pills, I hate him but hes right so I apologized and let him raise his voice which I rarely do but I know I have too much on my plate. My cousin is a drug addict. Hylan. I had to add that in because wow. My aunt amy is a narcist too smart for her own fucking good can read people like a book. Everyone is lucky that I always have good intentions and like to see the best in people or I would be like her. Ivana at work is on aderall constantly more than me and speaks a mile a minute and has the energy of a coke addict. Holly is a strong queen I dont know how she does it and a amazing teacher. I try and see the best in people I do but when this girl Sarah who I was friends with from work but then she became weird with me and started becoming slow at her job. I stopped liking her. She made me do everything today and is slower than slow. I am having a panic attack and can keep up with the kids. I enjoy them I do. Not the babies dont get me fucking started. The care giving, the baba, the poop, the dipers. What the fuck. You not my baby. But Still i dont think I enjoyed being a baby. I cried so much I hated it. Knowing my true nature I know I probably coudnt stand someone else taking care of me. Who knows how emotionally avabile my mom was. She was giving me to my aunt or nanny constantly. I feel bad for my mom she never got the time to truly "find herself" or question her views. Like no one pushed hen person. I think shes special. Shes smart but she has a victim mentality. the drinking did not help that and encouraged it. She always had a woe is me. Sorry I love my mom and I know this may sound bitchy but like she always looks like a lost deer. Shes been through hell and back but never used it to help other. I am sorry I can not forgive her because taking care of kids takes me out of my shit. We all have shit we get consumed with. I was able to go to work after feeling disgusted a day after Nick broke up with me. I cried because I watched Jude run away from her mother in fear because of how she acted in class. She kicked me hit me that day it made me cry for her to be angry with me. Not that she was kicking me. She just came into this world it sucks enough why make her go through more.

[bumblebeebucky]

Going Down

Bucky Banes x female reader

Summary: getting stuck in an elevator with someone you're supposed to hate doesn't always go the way you might expect.

Warnings: swearing, oral (fem receiving), fingering, 18+ minors dni

Word Count: approx. 1.1k

Masterlist

Your day had been going fantastic. That was until Bucky Barnes had gotten onto the elevator with you. You were only two floors away from your destination. You could survive the minute long ride in silence.

Right? 

Wrong.

Bucky had glared at you as soon as the elevator doors had revealed you to him. He’d gotten in and stood next to you in absolute silence. After he pressed the button, he went still as a statue.

The doors closed and the elevator slowly began to make its descent. Moments later, it came to a screeching halt. You stumbled, having to grab onto Bucky’s shoulder to keep from falling to the floor.

He kept his glare straight ahead, ignoring you as you straightened back up.

The lights went out and you nearly screamed out in frustration.

You’d been so close to freedom, just to now be stuck in a tiny space with the one man you hated most. 

Bucky didn’t seem all that happy about the situation either. The daggers he was shooting you made it clear he was blaming this whole thing on you. He rolled his eyes as you glared back at him.

“What?” you hissed.

Bucky’s angry eyes flashed to you. He moved lightning fast. So fast you hadn’t even had time to process that he was now right in front of you before his hands came slamming down on the wall beside your head. 

“You just love running your mouth, don’t you?” he asked, his voice low as he pressed close to you. 

When you finally remembered how to breathe, you shoved Bucky off of you. “Shut up, Barnes,” you muttered. 

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that, hey? You’d like it if I dropped to my knees in front of you and shut up. We both know I have better things to do with my mouth than stand here and bicker with you.”

Bucky didn’t break eye contact as he kept his word. He lowered himself onto his knees before you.

Your brain was whizzing a mile a minute. “W-what do you think you’re doing, Barnes?” You gripped onto the bar behind you as Bucky’s hands caressed your leather clad thighs.

He chuckled as he moved up, unbuttoning your pants. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t tell me no one’s done this for you before.”

You flushed. 

“We hate each other,” you said, your eyes closing as you felt Bucky dragging your pants down your legs. 

“I hate how hard you make my dick, sweetheart,” Bucky said, pressing a kiss to the front of your thigh. “I hate watching you walk around here without a care in the world, not knowing you have me throbbing every time you come near me. There are times when I swear I can feel that sweet pussy constricting around my cock,” Bucky continued. His voice was rough and muffled by your skin as he continued to nip at it while he helped you kick off your pants.

The emergency red light flickered and you tensed. “Someone could come in, Buck. Someone could see.”

Bucky looked up at you. “You think I care if someone sees this? You think I care if someone sees me taking care of you?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond before Bucky was pulling your panties off and flattening his tongue against you. You bucked into his mouth as he dove into your core, nose first.

“Fuck,” you hissed. Bucky’s hands gripped your ass, shoving you closer into his awaiting mouth. You knew you’d have impressions in your palms from the bar you were gripping for hours after this. 

Bucky moaned against you as he continued to move his tongue, switching between long, hard strokes, and quick kitten licks right on your clit. 

“You know how long I’ve waited to taste your cunt, sweetheart? Too damn long.” You squirmed against his mouth and Bucky slapped your ass. “Keep still. I’m going to get my fill. I don’t care how long it takes.”

The feeling of his tongue against you had you crying out again as one of Bucky’s hands now joined in. He pumped two fingers in you, never relenting on his attack on your clit. 

“Please, Barnes. Please,” you keened, throwing your head back. 

Bucky smiled against your core, your cries only spurring him on. “I could stay down here all day,” he muttered. “Might not even press the ‘help’ button.”

Bucky’s fingers and tongue switched, and now it was his fingers swiping against your clit, and his tongue digging deep into you. You’d never felt a bliss quite like this before, and you weren’t sure you’d ever feel it again.

“Gonna come, Buck,” you whispered. 

You’d squeezed your eyes shut a long time ago. They shot open when you felt Bucky get up from his knees and stand before you. His fingers never stopped their movements, but you missed his tongue on you. 

Just before you could whine and beg for him to finish you off, Bucky’s hand was gripping your neck. 

“Keep your goddamned eyes on me, sweetheart, or I swear I’ll leave you high and dry,” he demanded.

You nodded, eyes wide. Bucky returned to his knees, and you never once let your eyes waver from his blissed-out face. His tongue was on you again and you moaned loudly. 

“Right there. Yes, Bucky,” you groaned.

You felt your legs seize up and your heart rate pick up. Bucky noticed the way you clenched tighter around him and tossed one of your legs over his shoulder. You were closer to him than before now and he took full advantage of that.

It only took a few more pumps of his fingers and licks on your clit to have you screaming out silently, and ripping Bucky’s face away from you. He batted your hand away, keeping his mouth on you as he helped you through the hardest orgasm you’d ever had. 

It wasn’t until you were nearly in tears that Bucky finally stood, wiping your juices from his face. 

You blinked rapidly, still trying to process what had just happened. It had all been so quick.

You opened your mouth to ask Bucky what the hell he’d been thinking when the elevator dinged and the doors swung open. Bucky shot you a quick wink before he stepped out of the elevator, his hard glare returning to his face as Tony waved at you.

Tony stepped into the elevator next to you. “Going down?” he asked, his finger just above the button. 

It took you a moment to shake off the post-orgasm haze you were in. “No,” you said, a lopsided grin now on your face. “Barnes was though.”

[bloodorangesoup]

Bucky and Boobs Headcanons | B.B.

Summary: I'm procrastinating on a fic I'm working on right now so here's some headcanons about Bucky and one of his favorite things in the world, your tits.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k (I lost control)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ | nip stuff, bucky loving boobs, fingering, its all titties for this one

My Masterlist

Notes: This is not spell or grammar checked cause I'm tired lol. This is the first smut I've ever written so let me know what you think. Happy reading!

Bucky is definitely a boobs guy

The first time you guys got frisky while making out you grabbed his hands and put them on your tits and he swore he was about to pass out

His hand's just felt so full

Like it was a good feeling for both his metal and flesh hand to just be able to squeeze them

That, however, was interrupted by the food delivery person ringing your doorbell

The second time it happened you took off your shirt and he was sure you could hear how hard and fast his heart was pounding

He could slightly feel your hard nipples under your bra and it took everything in him not to let out a groan

You were straddling his lap while you guys kept making out and one thing led to another and his shirt and your bra were on the floor

If you asked Bucky Barnes what being let into the gates of heaven looked like he would tell you it looked like your chest when your bra slowly released from your back and rolled off your shoulders

He couldn't help but stare for a second

Once he snapped out of it he went fucking feral

He was grabbing and squeezing in every direction he could wrap his hands around them

At that point, your nipples had already softened again so he ran his thumbs over them a few times and just watched as they grew harder with every swipe of his fingers

For a few minutes, he kept experimenting with his fingers. He pinched your nipples and rolled them around between his pointer finger and thumb

All this while you rolled your clothed cunt rolled over his hard-on had him going insane

He looked almost as if he was in pain trying to hold himself back until you asked him to put his mouth on them through a moan

He almost came in his pants at how needy you sounded

He leaned his head down and licked your nipple, hearing the little gasp you let out from the new sensation

Then he started french kissing your nipples, alternating between both

He'd kiss them and then suck on them for a few seconds, pinching and rolling the neglected one at the same time

Meanwhile, you were going to town grinding on his dick

You could feel yourself getting so wet that your pussy was gliding easily over your underwear that was getting more coated with your slick with every grind

You both ended up coming in your pants that night, laughing at yourselves once your foggy brains cleared and you realized how out of hand that makeout session got

Bucky definitely used the memory of it to get him going whenever he jerked off, occasionally sucking on the tip of his fingers and imagining your hard nipples between his lips

Bucky didn't know if it was some primal instinct or something, but he really loved having your tits in his mouth

When you two were a more established couple and moved in together Bucky couldn't hold himself back

You both discovered how comforting the act was whether or not it resulted in any other sexual contact

You would be going to bed and be cuddled up against him and neither of you would be able to sleep

“Hey, doll, can I ask you something that might sound a little weird, I got an idea.”

“Yeah, Buck?”

“Could I, maybe, suck on your nipples right now. I feel like it’ll help me fall asleep.”

You’d agree, never being one to pass up having Bucky’s mouth anywhere on you

You’d take off your cami top and lay back down on your side facing Bucky and he’d face you and move himself down until he was face to face with your boobs that were hanging in front of his face from the way you were laying

He’d give your breasts a few soft kisses before gently sucking in the boob that was on top

You’d both hum and you’d look down at his face, seeing how peaceful he looked with his eyes closed, suckling on you

You’d close your eyes and let out a sigh

“Goodnight, Bucky, love you.”

He hummed around your nipple in answer, not needing to break his actions to send a clear message

It wasn’t necessarily sexually charged but it was intimate in a way you and Bucky hadn’t explored much, it was comforting

As for the times it was sexually charged though

You two would be laying on the couch, you on your back with Bucky laying on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and laying his head on your chest

He'd be focusing on the show, listening to your heartbeat, and start to grow kind of restless

It'd start with him absentmindedly putting his hand on your boob and squeezing it softly

Then he'd put his chin in the valley of your breasts and look up at you

"What?"

"Can I please suck your tits, angel? Wanna feel them in my mouth right now."

You'd shiver at the thought that he likes sucking your tits just as much as you like him sucking your tits and give him a little nod

You'd turn back to the TV and try to watch the show but you couldn't help but feel hyper-focused on Bucky's every move

He’d lift his head to slowly slide your shirt up and move your sports bra over your boobs with it

Then he wouldn't even hesitate to softly bite one of your nipples and soothe it by sucking it into his mouth

He’d learn over time to swirl his tongue around your nipple while he sucks it and it’d drive you crazy

He’d just keep lazily sucking and licking and biting and groping your other breast while keeping his eyes on the TV, occasionally looking back down to switch boobs

Eventually, you’d start to let out soft whimpers

Which then began to turn into full-on moans while you gripped your fingers in the hair on the back of his head and tried to clench your thighs around whatever was between them, which just so happened to be Bucky

He’d catch on to your movements and look up at you with a smirk, loving the effect that his simple teasing was having on you

He’d release your nipple with a pop and with both his hands to keep them both stimulated while he talked to you

“That feel good, baby? You like it when I play with your tits?”

You could only hum in response

“Can I touch you, baby? I wanna make you feel good.”

“Please, Bucky.” You nodded feverishly

He’d stop playing with your boobs momentarily to reach up and take your shirt and bra off the rest of the way

Then he’d run his hands down your chest, going down to your waist and squeezing it before making his way back up and massaging your breasts before sucking on one again and rubbing his cool metal fingers over your nipple on the other

His other flesh would glide down your stomach and find its way under the waistband of your shorts

His fingers would drag over your underwear, feeling the wet patch over your cunt while his palm pressed over your clit

He’d keep doing this until you were begging him to touch you, then he’d move his hand back up only to go back under the band of your panties

You were so wet that your movements had caused your wetness to have spread everywhere including over your clit

The moment Bucky’s hand had touched it and felt how absolutely soaked you were he let out a loud moan

He’d move his fingers from your clit to your slit, gathering your wetness all over all his fingers and palm

Then he’d give your nipple a hard suck while plunging his fingers deep into your pussy, massaging your walls and curling in

After a few pumps, he’d take them out and pull his hand from your shorts resulting in an embarrassingly loud whine to push past your lips

He’d take his wet fingers and wipe your slick over your nipples, rubbing them smoothly over them, before sucking the rest off his fingers and then sucking it off your nipples, groaning at the taste of you, while returning his hand to your shorts

He’d rub his fingers over your clit for a while as you squirmed under him, not being able to contain your moans anymore

Then he'd shove his fingers back into you, moving fast and angling his hand so that he could hit just the right spot over and over and over again

You could feel your abdomen start to tighten and your legs begin to shake while your breath turn into quick huffs

The heel of his palm would start rubbing against your clit with every thrust, only adding to the tension through your body

He would be doing this while his mouth and other hand continued to work on your nipples, hitting all your sensitive pleasure points and making you cry out his name

The final straw for you would be looking down to see Bucky needily grinding his hips against the cushion of the couch, moaning around you

Your whole body would tense up, your eyes would screw shut and your toes would curl while your grip in his hair tightened, making him whine against you as you release

He'd keep fingering and sucking all the way through, making you writhe around and grind your hips up to his hand

Once you'd wind down he would slowly stop his movements and release your nipples

He'd look into your eyes and bring his hand to his mouth, licking and sucking all your come off

He'd use his clean metal hand to hold your neck and bring you in for a kiss and give you a taste of yourself making you both groan

When you finally part he'd rest his forehead against yours and give you a big smile, your smile greeting his quickly after

The only sound was the discarded TV show playing in the back and your heavy breathing

"We're doing that more often, doll."

"Yes, yeah, we are."

I NEED SOME FUCKING WATER AFTER THIS OMFG

Hope you guys liked this as much as I liked writing it ;)

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

not jealous | jake sim

summary: jake sim is not a jealous person. at least that's what he tells himself. so why does he find himself going through your phone when a certain "bluejay park" decides to text you?

pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. mentions of jay park]

genre: angst, fluff 

warnings: angst, cursing (very minimal), one slightly suggestive sentence, jake being cute, some more angst lol, slightly cheesy bc jake’s just too cute ugh

wc: 3.8k

a/n: ok i loved writing this, which is why i went on to almost 4k words LOL oops. but anyways, i love jake a little too much and this type of scenario has been running around in my head for a while now so i decided to put it into words. also i may have created this blog just so i could post this somewhere LMAO anyways yeah this was my first fic so hope you guys enjoyyyy <3

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

At least that's what he tells himself. To be fair, in his past relationships, he never showed any jealously. Then again, he doesn't know if he can call those relationships, "relationships". Does a fifth grade relationship with a girl who he was once dared to kiss during a game of Truth or Dare in the basement of a classmate's house during their 11th birthday party count? He doesn't remember being jealous when the same girl was later dared to kiss his classmate, Sunghoon. (Funny enough, that's how the two boys came to be best friends 'til this day, but that's a story for another time.) 

But really, Jake doesn't think jealously is one of his traits, even if he's now almost 20 years old without any experience with love other than his current relationship with you and that short-lived romance in the fifth grade. (What was her name again? Jake would have to ask Sunghoon later.)

So he doesn't know what clicked in that brain of his that lead him to this current situation he was in. He doesn't know why he felt a little spark of anger in him when your phone, which you left right next to him on the couch while you went to take a shower, kept buzzing with texts from "bluejay park". He doesn't know why he couldn't kept his eyes distracted from the messages, although your phone was constantly lighting up because whatever it was Jay had to say to you, he would not shut up about it. He doesn't know why he questioned what your relationship with Jay was for a split second.

In fact, you're close with all of Jake's friends. That's one of his favorite things about you, you get along so well with all his friends you might as well replace Jake himself in the friend group. So he doesn't know what tells him to take a little glance at your phone—at the messages.

But he finds himself doing it anyways.

Hearing that the water in the shower was still running (you were always the type to take long showers), he quickly grabs your phone and scrolls through the lock screen just to find that he couldn't even read the messages since you had your notifications set so no one could read them unless the phone was unlocked (darn you and your settings!) Thankfully, Jake knew your passcode––and you knew his too––or he thought he did. Until the iPhone vibrated, telling him the passcode was wrong.

He must've entered it too fast or something. So he tries again.

And again.

And again.

Until the iPhone switches its screen to say: "iPhone is disabled. Try again in 5 minutes."

There's no way. You never change your password. And even if you did, you would tell him—you two even had each other's fingerprints saved into each other's phones in the past (you know, before the world decided that Apple's home button was too lame and decided to just completely get rid of it). If there was an option to save multiple faces for Face ID, you two would be that couple that saved each others faces in your own phones.

That being said, Jake sat there, your phone in hand, frozen. Why was your phone locked? Why was Jay texting you 10 texts per second? Why did he feel guilty about this entire situation?

He hears the shower switch off and in that moment, he swears he feels his heart beat just a little faster. He tells himself there's no way you'll be out before the 5 minutes are up. You followed a really meticulous skincare routine (one that Jake memorized by now) that took an extra 15 minutes of your time after each shower.

"Hey Jake?" Your voice calls out from the tiny bathroom door crack that you left open before you hopped in the shower, "Is my phone out there? Do you mind bringing it to me?"

Fuck.

Jake shifts on the couch. Taps his foot on the ground. Returns your phone to its original spot. Clears his throat.

"Don't you want to get dressed first?" he calls back, quite timidly.

He can hear you stop moving around in the bathroom. Probably telling yourself what an odd response that was. To be fair, it was an odd question, considering the fact that you two have been together for so long, it’s not like he hasn’t seen you undressed before...intentionally or not. 

Next thing he knows, the steam is rolling out of the bathroom door and you're stepping out in your towel, eyebrows raised.

"If you didn't want to get up from the couch, you could've just said so, you lazy butt," you smirk at him as you walk towards him and the couch, leaving a faint trail of water drops behind you. Jake's eyes follow your figure as you go to grab your phone and lift the screen towards yourself.

That's when he freezes. You do too.

You cock your head, as if asking yourself why it was disabled. He can hear the gears in your head turning.

"Jake, did you try to unlock my phone?"

He runs through all the possible excuses he could blurt out. Come on Jake, think of something! But he knows he can't lie to you.

Too many beats of silence pass by.

"Maybe," he finally says—or more like murmurs. He looks up to you like a child looking up at their mom, who just them caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. To his surprise, you don't show any hint of anger. A flash of confusion—and is that worry he sees?—crosses your face for a split second before you shrug and turn towards your room to change, dropping the subject. It was natural for you two to use each other's phones anyways. So then why did you have that look of worry?

Jake knows you well, a little too well. But that's what you love about him. He can easily read all your emotions. One of the many things he picked up from dating you for almost two years now. But why would you care if he tried to get into your phone? Why would that worry you? All the possibilities run through head and his own worry begins to increase. He trusts you. He does.

So then why does the thought bother him throughout the entire day? Why does he bring it up during dinner later that night, when you're both cuddled on your sofa, slurping take-out ramen while rewatching your favorite k-drama under the thick blanket that you always keep in your living room for nights like these?

"Huh? Of course I've heard from Jay today, we had that conversation about that stupid meme you boys kept laughing about in the groupchat we're all in, didn't we?" You answer him when he asks if you've heard from Jay lately. You sit up from your warm spot under Jake's arm to put your empty bowl on the coffee table in front of you. When you lean back, you look up at him,

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just wondering," he says, avoiding your eyes by keeping his own trained on the series currently playing on your TV. This would be your third time rewatching this series together. He would never complain to you though, he knows how much you love it and if he were being honest, he was secretly attached to the characters—not that he would ever tell you, he would never hear the end of it from you and the boys.

"You're being weird. Just tell me, or did you forget that I can practically read your mind," you say with a giggle and shove to his side, the one you were currently warmly cuddled into. Jake wasn't the only one who learned how to read emotions; you could read him just as well as he could read you. And like you, that's one of the many things he loved about you. But maybe not in this case.

He toyed around with the contents inside his ramen bowl with his chopsticks.

"I just..." God, how does he word this? Why was he having trouble explaining it? You were the easiest person to talk to. To him, you were the only person he could tell everything to.

"Jaywastextingyouabunchearlier," he blurts out quickly, but not quickly enough for you to miss it.

He feels you shift under his arm. He feels the air in the room shift. Tension.

"What?" Now you're sitting upright, legs criss-crossed in front of you on the couch but turned, so your body is completely facing him. He mirrors you, sitting up to put his ramen bowl next to yours on the surface, but he stays facing the TV.

"Your phone kept going off because of him when you were showering," he says with a little more confidence. But inside, he was nervous as hell, the same nervous as when he asked you out for the first time many moons ago. But it's too late to back out now, he brought it up first, anyways. Guess we're having this conversation now, good going Jake!

"Is that why you tried unlocking my phone earlier? I mean I thought you were just trying to leave selfies on my phone like you always do but you were trying to read my texts?" You question, slightly raising your soft voice. He doesn't know how to react, he hates confrontation.

"It wasn't like that, Jay just kept spamming you and like I—why was he even texting you in the first place? Then your phone got disabled because you changed your password, which you never do by the way, so I–"

"I changed it because my little sister kept getting into my phone when I went to visit my family yesterday! Did you really think I was hiding something from you? You know I can text whoever I want, right? You don't own me."

Okay so now he's managed to make you angry. Good going Jake, part 2!

"Okay but what does Jay need from you so bad that he has to send you like 50 messages at once?" He's standing now. So are you, eyebrows furrowed together as you collect your bowls from the table.

Standing there, bowls in hand, you say, "Jake, that's none of your business! It wasn't even that big of a deal, I don't know why you felt the need to nosy around."

"Well, if he's texting you non-stop, then obviously it's a big deal! We wouldn't even be having this conversation if you would just tell me what you guys were talking about," he murmurs back, eyes narrowing. You scoff as you trail into your kitchen. He follows behind and stops at the other side at your kitchen island as you place the dirty dishes into the sink.

"No, we're having this conversation because you obviously don't trust me! It doesn't matter what we were talking about, it doesn't matter who I was texting! I could be texting your mother and I shouldn't have to tell you what we were talking about! That's why we're having this conversation," you say as you turn back to face him from the other end.

He hates this. He hates fighting with you (which is a very, very rare occasion). He hates that you think he doesn't trust you. He hates his insecurity eating at him, telling him to keep questioning you on why you and Jay were talking in the first place. He was aware that you were close with his friends, but it wasn't until the texts he realized just how close you are with them. It's not that he didn't trust you, he just didn't know how to act when it came to you and other guys. God knows how he got lucky enough to meet you, let alone date you, so the thought of him losing you to someone else actually terrified him. Not only were you his first real relationship, but he wanted you to be his first and only one in life. You were it for him.

"Why did he text you." He deadpans from his side of the kitchen.

You scoff with a hint of exasperation. "You're kidding me."

You stare at him. He stares back, quirking an eyebrow, as if restating the same question back, as if testing you.

You're fuming now. Why was he making it so hard? Why was he doubting you? Out of frustration, you start laughing, which scares him. That can't be good.

"Fine. You wanna know so bad? Take a look,"  you're one tone level away from screaming as you take your phone out of your pocket, unlock it, and open up your conversation with "bluejay park", sliding the phone across the island to reach him.

Jake stares at the phone which now lies there, unlocked, facing him. Isn't this what he wanted? It is, right? That's why he started this dreaded argument with you in the first place.

Then why does he feel so fucking awful?

He looks back up at you, to see you sighing and looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to force your forming tears back into your eyes.

Yup, he feels horrible.

"Happy? Happy to know we were just trying to plan a surprise birthday party for you but you and your jealously just had to know huh, Jake?" You quickly state, voice cracking, as you tried not to choke up. You weren't sad that he found out about the surprise. You were sad that it felt like he didn't trust you. That he thought you were the type of person to do god knows what behind his back. You hated the feeling of not being trusted. Especially by Jake, of all people.

"Fuck."

Jake's face (and heart) falls with the most broken expression you've ever seen. But you're too sad, angry, tired (a mix of all?) to care. Your only goal right now is to not let him see you cry.

You hurry past him, across your apartment, and into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you, leaving behind a shocked, and regretful, Jake.

His heart shrinks when he hears the door slam shut and a little more when he looks down at the still unlocked phone in front of him. He didn't have the heart in him to look at it anymore. Of course he trusted you, he knew what you said was the truth.

He mentally screams at himself for assuming the worst––for thinking that you, a literal angel, would betray him.  First, he thought he was losing you to someone else. Now, he was afraid he just lost you through his own actions. 

He hesitantly sulks over to your door, softly knocking when he reaches it.

"Y/N?"

No response.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I let my—”

"Jake just please leave me alone for now," he hears you painfully say from a distance, meaning you're on your bed. He knows the door's unlocked—the lock on your door hasn't been working for a long time now, despite the many times he tells you to talk to your landlord about it. But he doesn't find it in him to open it. He knows he messed up. If he saw you in there right now, crying, he wouldn't know what to do. He wouldn't know what he would to do himself, knowing he was the reason behind your tears.

He nods in silence, knowing you can't see him, but does so anyways and returns to his spot on the couch. He could leave right now, go back to the dorm with the rest of the guys, let you have your space like you wanted. But his heart hurts at the idea of leaving you sad, angry, or a combination of both. He can't leave this unresolved. He fucked up, he has to fix it.

And so he sits on your couch for another hour. The clock on the wall behind him continues to tick as the silent tension in your apartment continues to grow. When it hits 11pm and he's sure you've slumbered off into sleep, he quietly enters your room.

He can see your figure in the dark, your back facing the door as you're curled up into yourself under the comforter. He feels his heart drop a little more when he imagines you crying in that position from earlier. He slowly peels the comforter open and gets into his side of the bed, careful not to bother your sleeping figure.

Laying there, staring up at the ceiling, he's never felt more like a stranger in your bed. It's not that he hasn't slept over before, god knows he's probably slept over at your place more than he has in his own bed. But right now, in this moment, he just felt awful. Like he didn't deserve to be in such close proximity to you. How could he be deserving? He violated your privacy, made you feel like you weren't trusted, doubted your relationship.

These thoughts run through Jake's head as he stares up at your ceiling fan, wishing he could turn back time to a few hours ago, before he checked your phone, before he let his insecurities get to the best of him.

You can feel the dip he makes in the bed behind you when he gets in. Of course you're not asleep. There's no way sleep could reach you when you had the recent events constantly replaying in your head like a broken record.

You knew Jake with all your heart. You didn't have to look at him to know he was probably laying there, hurt, staring up at the ceiling, drafting what to say once you wake up—or once he knows you're actually still awake.

You decide to break the tension by turning to lay on your other side, facing him.

You were wrong. Thanks to the little sliver of moonlight shining through your sheer curtains, you can see him, now laying on his side, already looking at you with so much regret in his eyes. You can almost hear the cracks in your heart physically forming.

His eyes widen when he realizes you're still awake. He opens his mouth to say something, but not before you quickly shift over to his side of the bed and embrace him in a tight hold, burying your face into his chest. Without any hesitation, he returns the gesture, arms holding your body as close to him as possible. As if once he let go, he'd lose you forever.

He lets out a sigh of relief as he breathes you in. He didn't even know he was holding his breath all this time.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry Y/N," he mutters into your hair. He feels his hoodie getting wet from where you buried your face. He pulls you closer, if that's even possible, feeling his own eyes heating up with sadness. He would never forgive himself for making you feel this way.

"You know I trust you right? Please know that. I shouldn't have assumed the worst when I saw your phone. I...I let my insecurities get to the best of me."

You move your head from its home on his chest to look up at him, as if asking him to elaborate. This was new to you, you didn't know he held insecurities in your relationship. But it wasn't because of you, no, you were his entire world. Losing you meant losing everything.

Jake's never been the best at saying his feelings. That's why it took him so long (with the help of his six best friends) to finally confess how he felt about you. He was afraid of letting people in if they could easily walk out. Maybe that's why he never let anyone into his life before you. But oh, were you an exception. The second he met you, he knew he was fucked. But thank god he did, because thanks to you, he's been able to be more open, more vulnerable. He's able to talk to you about anything and everything. He doesn't have that same fear of losing people anymore, not when he has you in his life to reassure him every step of the way. But right now, in this moment, he doesn't know how to tell you that his new fear was, in fact, just losing you.

The sheer idea of you not being a part of his life anymore terrified him. 

"I hope you know you're never going to lose me Jake, if that's what you're insecure about," you softly mutter as you wrap your free arm that's not stuck in between both your bodies around him to gently play with the ends of his hair. It's as if you could read his mind, he loves that you know him so well.

"It just sucks that you could even think I would ever do something as awful as what you were assuming...with one of your closest friends nonetheless," you continue.

"I know. I know, and I feel terrible. I'm so sorry. I know you would never do anything remotely close to that, and I know you would never intentionally try to keep anything from me," he sighs. He shifts so he can lie down on his back, bringing you with him to lie on his chest, never letting you go once. "It's just...I just don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you Y/N. Everyday, I ask myself what heroic thing I must've done in my past life to deserve this life with you and I can't help but think you could just as easily be stripped away from me."

As much as your heart breaks listening to him rant, you feel your love for him grow even more. You knew how hard it was for him to put his true emotions into words, and him telling you this reminded you how much trust he had in you.

After some moments of silence, moments of him drawing random shapes onto your back, moments of you two just holding each other like it was the end of the world, you speak up.

"I love you. I'm sorry for making you doubt yourself—"

"No, it's not your fault, I can't help but think things like that. I just don't know what I did to deserve you, and I know that I need to be mo–"

"Babe let me finish," you say with a little giggle in your tone. He immediately stops and mutters a little "sorry". How cute, you tell yourself.

"I was gonna say," you look back up at him so you're making direct eye contact now. "You're the only one that's ever on my mind, Jake. I can't help the way you think, but I can assure you that there is no one else I would rather be with. And I mean that for the rest of life."

You snuggle back into the comfortable hoodie he's currently wearing (you make a mental note to yourself to steal it from him later) and decide to ease the tension,

"So you're stuck with me for life, sorry to inform you Mr. Sim."

Jake lets out a laugh, looking down at you to see you returning his smile with a cheeky one.

"I love you. So much," he says so sincerely, so genuinely, that you almost tear up again from how content you were. Now you were asking yourself, what did you do to deserve him?

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

No, he just loves you.

A lot.