#like a barn door

[athenepromachos]

His Grace the Duke of Suffolk with his "I'm going to take you upstairs and fuck you seven ways to Sunday" expression 🍆♥️

[buried-l0cket]

recently domesticated knife missing his weird employees

[valkyurii]

among the countless titty mods one extremely based modder steps up

[coldmilkchoices]

they shouldve put the skull on wheels and given him a remote control to whizz around with. i think this would have made everyones lives exponentially worse but it would be extremely fucking funny

[onbearfeet]

Whump Wheel request for our favorite werewolf!

✨ High fever ✨

but he's ambulatory somehow

"Sit your stupid ass down," Bucky snarled.

Jack shook his head, more slowly than usual. "I'm fine," he insisted, and it would even have been convincing if he'd managed to avoid slurring the second word.

"You are not fine," Elsa snapped from where she was fiddling with what she claimed was a ghoul gate but that Bucky could have sworn was a garden-variety pipe bomb with funny writing on it. "You're running a temperature of forty degrees, according to Barnes' arm sensors." She rolled her eyes. "A hundred and four in idiot units."

"Hey," Bucky warned her, then returned his attention to Jack, who had begun methodically pulling books off the shelves of the Newport mansion in which they'd gotten themselves trapped. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, stalking over to where his prey had managed to escape. "Do you wanna cook your brain or something?"

"I dunno, would it help?" Jack's eyes were glassy as he flipped pages without appearing to read. His cheeks and forehead were flushed with fever.

"What kinda stupid question is--hey!" Bucky grabbed Jack by his bicep and spun him in place so the werewolf had no choice but to face him. "Listen to me!"

"'m lissning," Jack slurred, staring at a point in space that seemed to be just off the end of Bucky's nose.

Bucky brought his metal palm up to press against Jack's cheek. Jack leaned into the cool touch with a barely suppressed moan.

"Hey," Bucky said, more gently this time. "You need to rest. You're sick."

"Don' get sick." Jack sounded offended at the very thought.

"He's right," Elsa put in. "Werewolves are immune to just about everything humans can catch." She paused. "Everything other humans can catch," she corrected.

"So what?" Bucky shot back. "Maybe he's got parvo or something!"

"Tha's racist," Jack informed him, swaying on his feet.

Bucky closed his eyes and silently counted to five thousand. Then he reopened then.

"Jack," he said, watching the werewolf's head wobble in response. "You want some water?"

Wobbly nod.

"Yeah, something to drink probably sounds good right about now. But you gotta sit down to drink your water, okay?"

Scowl. Wobble-nod.

"Good man." He gently guided the swaying man over to a chair near the cold fireplace. Jack didn't sit so much as collapse into it like his strings had been cut, but his head didn't hit anything on the way down, which was a win in Bucky's book.

"Try the drinks cabinet," Elsa suggested, still fiddling with her definitely-not-a-pipe-bomb.

Bucky grunted acknowledgment and headed for it. He'd give Jack alcohol if he had to--fluids were fluids, right?--but he wanted to find something low-proof if he could.

Good thing every rich evil bastard he'd ever net had kept the good stuff locked up and left the watered-down shit where guests and tippling servants could find it.

"Are you planning to blow us up with that thing?" he called to Elsa as he rummaged through the cabinet.

"If I can disable the sigils," she replied distractedly, "I can turn it from a ghoul gate into a perfectly ordinary explosive to use on the door."

The bottles were what he expected. Shit bourbon, shit scotch, fake cognac, real vodka... "Do you know how to disable the sigils?" he asked.

"Not as such, no."

Bucky paused, his metal fingers wrapped around a bottle of bitters. "Then should you be fucking with it?"

"Only if we don't want Jack to die."

The bottle shattered in his grip. He thought vaguely that he was going to have to clean the plates in his hand later.

"What?!" he yelped.

"Nobody gets a high fever in ten minutes flat," Elsa snarled. "It's a curse. Probably attached to this bloody gate. Jack knows more about most curses and sigils than I do, Barnes. He's had centuries to learn, and my education was rather more specialized. And now the curse is cooking his brain before he can break it!"

Bucky glanced over at Jack, who was slumped in his chair. "Fuck. I think he passed out."

"Bastards. Time for plan B." Elsa bit the fingertip of her left glove, tugged it off, and spat the glove aside. Then she bit the cuticle on her thumb, hard.

"What are you doing?" Bucky asked, in a higher register than he'd intended.

"Duct tape for curses."

"What?"

"Duct tape fixes everything, right? Most curses break with either blood or true love's kiss. Do you see any true lovers in here?" She squeezed her index finger against the wound in her thumb and began smearing blood across the definitely-a-bomb-now. "Get Jack behind the davenport."

"The what?!"

"The couch, Barnes!"

The oh-shit-that's-just-a-bomb began to beep.

Bucky lunged for Jack, scooped his limp body up, and was up and over the dav--couch, it was a goddamn couch--in seconds.

Elsa landed beside them just as the beeping stopped and the world went white.

[litrallytyrus]

listening to hits different by taylor swift thinking about trobed just a normal saturday

[shadystranger]

coming out to say I think the ending was evil as balls and horrible to sam why'd you force him to live intrinsically broken inside and hollow living for the longest soul-decaying while without the person he loves most waking up every day and going goddammit not again while becoming a shell of a human it's almost sadistic why'd you do this to him

[kinokoshoujoart]

i’m going to cry… rock’s child inherits the most feral abnormal messed up dna of any child ever and still ends up being the most well-adjusted one (rock’s nurture overcoming his and his child’s nature)

(this is from this rrreddit post. if you’re wondering why molly and rock’s kids are low energy…. i have no idea why 規則正しい was translated “energy” either because it‘s more like “orderly”…? i’m not native in jp so idk)

[coralsgrimes]

Benny Boy Gym Influencer Arc vol.1

[athenepromachos]

Thighs, jeans, forearms, biceps, wide shoulders, beard, and curls.... 🥵🥵🥵

I will be lying down in a dark room if anyone needs me 😳😳😳

[furrama]

Also, if you're still on X (Twitter), if you've been giving legitimacy to that website by actively posting on it and have been a reason for other people to not leave just by being there, you've failed an important civic and moral test and I loathe you with the passion of a thousand burning suns.

[transexualpirate]

i think that if i got to play minecraft with bucky and we had a little farm and we went hunting monsters at night and we placed our beds together i think that would fix me. i believe that wholeheartedly

[subsequentibis]

my aunt works for a theater company making costumes and has done for like the past thirty something years, so when me and my brother were kids, we would ask her for a halloween costume a few months ahead of time and get a full tailored custom costume in the mail. it was great and we still have several of them. i still fondly remember the year i wanted to be a purple dragon, and got back a dragon costume complete with headdress, gloves that gave me pointy claws, and a four foot long tail.

the thing is, though, i didn't want to literally be a purple dragon. i wanted to be one of the evil ninjas from the teenage mutant ninja turtle tv show i was watching at the time, who were the purple dragon clan. but when that costume showed up in the mail there was no fucking way i was gonna say it was wrong. that thing whipped ass.

[utterdrip]

“you shouldnt do this just because you feel like you owe me something…”

me, knowing his whole story: :) yes dear. anyways no sex in the goblin camp

[afaroffsong]

.

Once or twice a year I am hit by a massive wave of homesickness for America that makes me literally nauseous and almost feverish. Anyway I am metaphorically turning my heart inside out as I think about junky old Lincoln, Nebraska and a mice-infested farmhouse and living off of food stamps.

[kylewalker-peters]

you'll go on hinge for 20 minutes, fail to find even one man that you think is fit, and close out the app wondering if you're even attracted to blokes at all