#they like have their own things going on im not getting into right now but

[boopshoops]

What your favorite TWST character says about you :)

As a note before I begin: I saw one of these that shamed malleus and randomly even chenya enjoyers- (claimed that they were pick mes or something? 😭) so i wanted to make one that was more positive out of spite <3 make it more about the writing and why people appreciate the characters. Take each of these with a grain of salt i spose- also a lot of them share similar themes <3

(Aka fans who have different views or even blatantly incorrect views of characters will always exist everywhere, but insulting the entirety of a group solely for enjoying a character, many for different reasons, is probably not a great idea!

I get that sometimes people suck and thats understandable, but quit generalizing ok? Ok.

From a malleus enjoyer who just thinks hes a silly little guy and im tired of feeling like i have to defend myself bc he's my blorbo 😵‍💫)

Final note: i love unapologetically taking frustration and turning it into something that can make people smile 💕 also i blindly wrote this from 11pm-midnight :))) dividers by @/cafekitsune!

Heartslabyul:

Riddle: you enjoy and/or relate to the idea of healing from the past. Working hard to improve oneself for the ones around you and yourself: creating a healthier environment where you can be happy

Trey: there is immense complexity in things that are seemingly mundane. Digging deeper and deeper to find something truly sweet and heart warming is your joy.

Cater: maybe you relate, or maybe you used to, or maybe parts of the connections made in the past/presence/future dont feel as deep as you truly want them to be. There is something beautiful about a desire for genuine human connection, but also peace in being alone. There is a safe space for you yet, just be patient. 💕

Deuce: you love drive and determination. An endless stubbornness that keeps one going against all odds. Against every person who tells someone they cant. You watch them get proven wrong, and its pure bliss.

Ace: you find the connection between people beyond words heartwarming: even the seemingly simple ones. The ability to have a connection with someone who can get up to some mischief, tease back and forth, yet be there when you need them to be one of the most valuable things.

Savanaclaw:

Leona: Adversity over a lack of belief in oneself is a very difficult thing to overcome- yet it is very possible with the right crowd, the right amount of time, healing, and effort. You think someone's worth lies more than just within their title/job/appearance, but within the fact that they are able to stand back up and keep moving onward despite the odds. The hope for that change, and the ability to get out of bed in the morning on its own is strength.

Ruggie: Despite being through so much trauma at such a young age, recovery happens anyway. Its not perfect, at times the lessons learned are even rough. The survival tactics that once helped are now hard to ditch when theyre not needed anymore, but the ability to smile and joke and keep pushing onwards is something you value in life.

Jack: Self discipline can be both extremely useful as well as harmful in different ways. You find the way people can constantly strive to better themselves at what they love and/or morally to be highly admirable.

Octavinelle:

Azul: People can be cruel. And sometimes that cruelty inspires cruelty. Sometimes its simply used as a way to move on and survive insecurities created from it. Its hard, its a fight, but those insecurities are part of what make people beautiful. They are nothing to be ashamed of, and even the many tactics and smart ways of learning to overcome cruelness can be beautiful too.

Jade: The mind is extremely powerful. Intelligence and knowledge are not the only important things, no. Using that intel to find entertainment in the surrounding world can be exhilarating. Finding and discovering new unknowns: learning their ins and outs until they're a part of you is something you can relate to.

Floyd: speaking of fun- you love what is essentially the written version of a roller coaster. Ups and downs, ins and outs. Every single twist and turn is exhilarating and new. Every different perspective provides new insight into a multitude of different things. You are along for the ride, and you are having a lovely time.

Scarabia:

Jamil: self discovery can be very difficult after purposefully suppressing parts of one's self for a long time. Yet, the healing happens anyway (once again aha <3). People discover new parts of themselves, slowly becoming more comfortable not only with their environment, but how they react to it. The discovery is freedom, and freedom is bliss to you. New traits about oneself bloom like a flower: if not in the soil, then stubbornly in the cracks of cement. You gently take that bloom from the concrete and pot it, placing it gingerly in a beam of sunlight.

Kalim: Happiness isnt only sunshine to the one smiling, but to everyone else around them. It is delightfully infectious. However, happiness isnt a constant. You think emotions all emotions should be experienced rather than suppressed, because holding back sadness for the sake of others is a disservice to one's self. Discovering your own emotions, any range of them, is what makes people uniquely human. If anyone is holding those emotions back- hell, any part of them back, they need to be let out of the cage.

Pomefiore:

Vil: "Beauty is on the inside" is a saying thats been around for a long time, but beauty comes in so many forms. It can come from the stubborn desire to improve one's self: to be kinder, to help those around you, to be good. However it is impossible to be perfect. At times, for some, this can be crushing. People are hurt unintentionally, natural frustration can brew, the wrong actions can be taken: and thats okay. You believe whats important is to pick yourself up and keep going. To err is to be human, and that is beautiful too.

Rook: Error is beautiful. Symmetry is beautiful. Asymmetry is beautiful. A crack in the side walk is beautiful. Small things are beautiful, big things are beautiful. The nurturing of something through endless care is beautiful. The undeniable traits and hobbies of every individual that make them unique are beautiful. You find the endless optimism in finding beauty to be, in itself, beautiful.

Epel: Sometimes people will view others in ways that they wish not to be perceived as. This isnt in our control, as much as we sometimes want it to be. All you can do i be unapologetically yourself. To be you to the utmost degree. To prove those who thought otherwise to be foolish. You find this strength to find value in yourself despite others opinions admirable.

Ignihyde:

Idia: you have depression /j

Ok for real-

Life can be such a cunt. It can beat a person down, down, down and leave them vulnerable enough to fear it. To fear that beating, whenever it may next come. The anxiety of never knowing what or who will come next, or what one could lose. At times it feels more comforting to find a routine in solitude. But you know that the small things that give joy will wiggle their way in with time. The broken will meet people who love and care and find comfort in the companionship of healing, even from the little things: like a new story to read or game to play.

Ortho: You value unconditional support. Support through everything: the good, the bad, the just kind of okay. Knowing that someone can have ones back for every little thing- to be there solely because they care and wish the best for others- is something you look up to and maybe even wish to be for another.

Diasomnia:

Malleus: god damn people can be so hard to read and understand. They are so complicated: they are books you have to pay attention to from start to finish. But once you reach the end, you have a deep seated appreciation for them, and for the ones who stuck around to read your book too. Even if it was just for a fleeting moment: it is a happy moment. As painful as temporary things can be, it is also what you think can make the relationships we love and have loved so valuable.

Lilia: there can be suffering everywhere. There is war. There is famine. But there are also endless new sights to see. New discoveries to be made to help those still going through famine and war. New ways to love and understand people you never thought you'd understand. The development and positive parts of humanity, even though at times it can look bleak, are ever present to you. You love the discovery: of places and of people.

Silver: you believe that there is solace in being your own individual, regardless of who you are bound by blood to. Being shaped my experiences, friends, hardships, and new places are what make a person who they are. You value finding roots in and making your own home.

Sebek: Dedication can be a hard thing to come by, but when it does it can grab someone by the reigns. Using every waking moment to cherish that thing, learn more about it, become better at something, and strive to better ones self can be very admirable to you. But, on the other hand, it also calls for the occasional rest.

OTHER (just for ones I know well enough, sorry!)

Neige: You love kindness despite hardship. One can go through horrible things and still choose to be kind. The world could begin to end, and one could still choose to be kind, because it means everything.

Chenya: Curiosity fuels exploration. It fuels art. It fuels everything. It fuels excitement. It fuels friendships. It fuels medicine. It fuels life. Curiosity is endlessly fun, and you think that is very whimsical

Meleanor: Sacrifice for others can be tragic. Knowing what another person has given up for someone else, maybe even everything, is gut wrenching but undeniably a selfless love to you.

Crewel: There can be kindness in strictness. In teachings, there can be a parental guide. There can be someone who cares for you and undeniably wants you to succeed. They know that you can, so they push you towards it. You want this support.

Trein: Love surpasses time. When the ones we love are gone, the memories of them are still held close, with the love once given to them, we can show to others through advice and guidance that comes with time. You find comfort in that.

Crowley: People are flawed. We all know this, yet despite a persons flaws... however many there may be, there is still something hopeful and human about it. About having those flaws and persisting regardless. You may even like those flaws, and the unashamed desire to press on even with them on display.

Fellow/Ernesto: Live for yourself. This is what you desire. People are often caught up in material or monetary things. After all, we live in a world that required it to survive and even be respected. To throw away those views and simply live as you see fit: regardless as to whether you earn those things or not, is something you admire.

Rollo: Sometimes the attachment we have to those we lost can be painful. Regardless, that pain is proof that there was care and love. The things done for others, whether alive or dead, are done selflessly. Grief can fuel hatred, but it can also be caused by love. To unlearn hatred and learn to love again after the fear of loss is a natural human experience. It is a process you understand and admire those who take the time and strength needed to properly love again.

Thank you for reading <3

Tags <3

@lowcallyfruity @skriblee-ksk @justm3di0cr3 @cecilebutcher @kitwasnothere

@techno-danger @thehollowwriter @distant-velleity @the-trinket-witch @scint1llat3

@beneathsakurashade @qsoap @twsted-canvas @prince-kallisto @kathxrat-01

@sillyslipperybananapeel @jadelover69 @tixdixl @twstinginthewind

[missarchive]

ok ok ok!! what about spencer getting head from reader for the first time, and it's her first time doing it, so she's nervous and he teaches her and he has to try sooo hard not to cum immediately because he is just GONE for the innocence with which she does it/tries things out 🤭 you choose what season spence!!

Decided to do one more for tonight!! (I’m feeling generous)

thank you for the request!! im always writing munch!spencer but it's nice to write things the other way round for once

cw; +18 minors dni, inexperienced!reader, tiny bit of dom!spencer if you squint, oral (m. receiving), cum swallowing

When you first kneel before him, his breath catches in his throat, and he’s certain he might lose himself right then and there. The sight of you—so eager, so nervous—renders him utterly helpless. Your hands reach for his belt with a mixture of determination and trepidation, your cheeks flushed a rosy hue that makes you look impossibly innocent yet utterly intoxicating. His jaw slackens as he watches you, his heart pounding against his ribs like a war drum.

Your wide eyes flicker up to meet his, glinting with excitement and a touch of uncertainty. He’s been dreaming of this moment for what feels like forever, and now that it’s unfolding, every muscle in his body tenses, locked in an unbearable anticipation.

Your fingers fumble with his belt, the clumsy motions endearing rather than frustrating. He doesn’t mind the delay; in fact, it only heightens his awareness of you—of how genuine, how completely you this moment is. He knows this is your first time. Not just with him, but ever. You’d told him, shyly, how you’d researched, how you’d prepared for this, even asking friends for advice. Still, the vulnerability of trying it now, with him, makes his chest tighten.

His hands find their way to your hair, almost of their own volition. The silky strands slip through his fingers like water, grounding him. You haven’t protested, haven’t pulled back, and the faint smile on your lips reassures him that you’re okay with this—more than okay. You glance up at him again, brow furrowed slightly in concentration, and the sight makes his heart stutter.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, his voice rough with emotion. He needs you to be comfortable, to know that he’ll stop the moment you ask.

You pause, your hands stilling, and you smile at him, a gentle curve of your lips that speaks volumes. “I’m okay,” you whisper.

Finally, you manage to undo his pants, your small hand brushing against his erection as you pull down the zipper. He groans at the brief contact, the sound guttural and raw. When your fingers wrap hesitantly around him, his breath hitches, and he can’t stop the way his hips shift forward, seeking more of your touch.

“God,” he murmurs, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. Your touch is tentative, exploratory, and it sends jolts of pleasure straight to his core.

You look up at him, startled by the intensity of his reaction. “Is that... okay?” you ask, your voice laced with innocence and curiosity.

“It’s more than okay,” he rasps, his hands moving to your shoulders, needing something to hold onto, to anchor himself. “You’re perfect.”

Encouraged, you start to stroke him, your hand sliding up and down his shaft in slow, deliberate movements. He watches you, his gaze locked on the way your small hand moves over him. The sight alone is almost too much.

When your tongue darts out to wet your lips, he groans deeply, his head falling back for a moment as he imagines that mouth on him. The vividness of the fantasy sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through him.

“Baby,” he says, his voice strained, “I’m not going to last much longer like this.”

Your eyes widen slightly, disbelief flickering across your features. He chuckles softly despite himself, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he confesses, his voice heavy with sincerity.

“I just... I’ve never done this before,” you admit shyly, your cheeks flushing deeper. “I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Baby, you’re not doing anything wrong,” he assures you, his hands moving to cradle your face. The warmth of your skin beneath his palms soothes and excites him all at once. “Can I show you?”

You nod, your expression curious, and he takes a steadying breath, his restraint hanging by a thread. Gently, he guides your hand away, needing a moment to compose himself before he completely unravels.

“Like this?” you ask, your voice so soft it’s almost a whisper. The innocent question makes his chest tighten with affection and desire.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “Just like that. Only with your mouth.”

His hand moves to the back of your head, not to push or force but to guide. He’s desperate for this but careful, wanting you to feel safe, to enjoy it as much as he knows he will.

“Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he urges, his voice gentle but firm.

“Okay,” you reply, nodding.

When your lips part and touch the tip of his cock, he shudders violently, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat. The wet heat of your mouth surrounds him, and it’s so much better than he ever imagined.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his head falling back as you take him deeper, your tongue flicking against him experimentally. His hands clutch the sheets, desperate for something to hold as his hips jerk involuntarily.

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. “Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” he groans, his voice thick with need. “You’re incredible.”

Bolstered by his praise, you take him in again, this time with more confidence. Your mouth moves over him slowly, tentatively, and the sensation is almost overwhelming.

“God,” he groans, his voice ragged. “I’m going to come.”

His hand returns to your hair, fingers threading through it as he fights the urge to thrust deeper into your mouth. He doesn’t want to push too far, to take too much.

When he finally lets go, the release is overwhelming, a rush of pleasure so intense it leaves him trembling. You stay with him through it, warm spurts of cum painting the back of your throat.

As you pull back, you wipe your mouth with a shy smile, and he reaches for you, pulling you into his arms. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, his heart still racing as he holds you close.

“Was it... good?” you ask, your voice small and uncertain.

“It was amazing,” he says, his voice hoarse with emotion. “You were amazing.”

Your giggle lights up the room, and his chest swells with affection. “I thought I did it wrong at first,” you admit, laughing softly.

“You were perfect,” he assures you, kissing you again. “Better than I ever imagined.”

[miange1]

I NEED MORE BRIAN MOSER AHHHH

Brian Moser, with a lover that's "too sweet"

male leaning reader, brian is a freak, being nervous more than shy, arguments, accidental guilt tripping, manipulation(at first), reader gives off innocence but they're not they're just a virgin, fake names, being overly touchy, blow jobs

note: had an idea so i just used this ask as an excuse to finally post it. also if you notice typos no you don't im not fixing them

— You were his first actual relationship in which didn't involve murder or trying to get closer to Dexter. Or so he remembers, he probably had that intention at first yet completely forgot about it due to his own feelings.

— Meeting you felt like a bunch of perfumes and flowers were thrown at his face— you were smiling and speaking with him like he was your long lost friend or your boyfriend, like you knew him since forever.

"Oh! Rudy!" He instantly felt his heart speed up, feeling more nervous than he's ever been in his entire life and you weren't even calling out his real name. He needs to calm down, seriously he's sweating way too much.

"I missed you so much, how have you been?" He felt your arms wrap around him tightly, yet ater the hug your hands took his and held them as if they were the most delicate things in the world, besides you.

The man could barely get his words out, stuttering every now and then and looking away from you often. Your thumb was swiping softly over the top of his knuckles, why were you looking at him like that.

— Getting with you was the most romantic thing he has ever thought of. Taking you out to a place where it was peaceful yet beautiful, and he could confess to you and actually mean it.

— It was the best place he could find, it was hot but lovely. When he confessed, you stayed quiet for far too long and he thought you didn't want him. You were just in so much shock, it's been a bit since someone was this genuine to you.

— Floating on air is what he felt like each time he was with you. When you were able to visit his work, you showed him with kisses each and every single time even after arguments which was something he would have a heavy weight on his shoulders about.

"Debra doesn't at all have a thing for me, what the hell are you talking about!" You were blinking back heavy tears trying to see his side as best as you could, yet everything just went a bit too far. From understanding to a plain bicker.

"It's obvious she does, and she's in your office more than I am!" He rolled his eyes, his fingers on his nose and pinching the bridge. He knew Debra had a thing for him, but what he didn't know was why he lied seeing you fight for him like this. He liked seeing you get jealous.

"Because it's her job." Yet you protested, "I understand that but.." you couldn't get the rest out, starting to cry and you instantly felt embarrassed. "Sorry— shit, I'm sorry.." His upset look rested, sighing as he went closer to you for an embrace.

"No, it's my fault." He admitted, his arms squeezing your frame in a comforting manner as you cried into his chest.

He was so turned on right now.

— Brian had a bunch in which you were a virgin, he just would have never guess he was actually right about it.

— All he wanted was a small make out for a bit, yet it had escalated and you were on your knees. God, you looked so pretty.

"Ah, ah, your teeth.. Good..that's it." He leaned his head back, the warmth of your mouth and tongue working at his girth. For your first time even giving head you were real good at following his directions. You did it just how he liked it. Tongue swirling, spit mixing with what leaked from him, it was heaven.

He jutted his hips forward a bit, catching you by surprise and giving you the urge to wanna pull back, which didn't happen due to Brian's fingers tangling in your hair— and pushing your head back forward. "Doing so well, fuck.." you practically weren't evenoving anymore, and if you were you had just been going ragdoll and moving along with Brian's pulls.

His dick twitched in your mouth as he heard a gargled moan, fuck he was gonna cum just from hearing that alone. Then he'd hear you whine, almost impatiently. "Hush you're fine, just keep on— God, yes.." eyes rolling back, feeling your nose poke at his pelvis the deeper he pushed you down when he came. Letting go of your hair, he let your head fall back a bit before he forced your mouth closed.

"Swallow."

— Sooner or later he would then wonder why you were a virgin in the first place, yet you did date people for long periods of time.

"I don't know, when I asked after break up they said they just couldn't."

— He got the hint for himself.

[treatbuckywkisses]

this took me WAY too long to read and it's nobody's fault but my own

Fifth upon a time (I'm sad this is not ringy at all)

"She gave you about an hour before the hatch in the floor boards opened, even though for you, it was much longer. She didn’t know that, though. You sat very still, your breath finally silent again. Maybe she didn’t know you were in here." - THAT IS SO SAD WHAT THE FUCK I DID NOT EXPECT SADNESS IMMEDIATELY 

some real life good advice from strange ??? Where am I rn 😲 

SHUT UP HE GOT COFFEE 😭🥹

""You know me, doc," you answer, letting the power crackle again ever so slightly. It’s a thrill, getting to feel it again. "Careful’s basically my middle name."" - LIAR LIAR IM EXCITED SHES PLOTTING SOMETHING 

""What are you doing?" He doesn’t sound annoyed at all; more entertained. You take a step back, assessing, but his face doesn’t betray him whatsoever. " WE'VE BEEN MADE 😭

"Oh, you hate this. " - this interaction feels flirty and I'm ready to start yelling 

STOP BRINGING UP THE FLOOR DAMNIT IT HURTS 

"But you stop talking, because he’s already taking a tentative nip of yor drink, and then he licks his lips. And they curl slightly upwards." - this has me so soft ??? He likes her coffee order I'm so ?????????? UGH ?? HE LIKES HER FUCKING CODFEE BRO

"And then you realize what’s really happening, and the world chokes, like something falling into place." - I am the world and I am choking up .

GOD THE WAY THEY LOOK AT EACH ITHER AND YALK FO EACH ITHER UOU ARE SO BAD IM SO HSHSKSHAKHS AND YOU FUCKING MSDE THEM HOLD HANDS OHMYHFO ARE YOU JOKING RIGHT NOW 

"You’re going to fix this mess you’ve created, if it’s the last thing you do." - this is slightly worrisome (I'm scared of you)

LITERAL CHILLS for the whole ending sequence my God do you know how to write 😍 you're insane I hate this story 

How do you have me so emotional with some grand idea and some click clacking on a keyboard you have such talent i want to scream forever about

time after time [5]

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

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 10.9k

chapter warnings: nothing except the usual ones; another panic attack near the end; the riveting resolution of the coffee side quest? please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: after my week of technical difficulties (got shadowbanned, had a breakdown, bon appétit), this chapter finally made it to tumblr as well. thank you so much to everyone who reached out, it's meant more than you know!! <3 this one starts out fairly harmless and then i threw some punches again and for that i apologise

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

five: carousel

The first mission they took you on was nothing short of a disaster.

It should have been simple, was simple, a quick extraction to get a microchip from this decimated group of criminals operating out of an abandoned toy store that Nat had discovered through one of her contacts. You were only supposed to tag along to get a feeling for being out in the field, an additional pair of eyes just in case things went south.

Did they ever.

Not only was the chip accidentally destroyed, your ensuing panic got you stuck for a good twenty minutes until the world started spinning again. Steve fell down a full flight of stairs when you reappeared out of thin air next to him the moment it did.

Needless to say, you went into hiding as soon as you got back to the Compound.

She gave you about an hour before the hatch in the floor boards opened, even though for you, it was much longer. She didn’t know that, though. You sat very still, your breath finally silent again. Maybe she didn’t know you were in here.

"I know you’re up here, Y/N."

You pulled the cape off your head with a sigh. Natasha grimaced.

"Don’t do that, I’m not talking to a floating head," she said with a shudder. "You know how weird that is?"

You huffed and let her pull the fabric into her lap, watching your own limbs reappear, your arms hugged around your knees. She sat down next to you, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. You watched a spider scatter away from you.

"How did you even find me?" you asked quietly after she made no further attempts to speak to you.

"My sister had a similar hiding spot when we were little." You could hear the smile in her voice as she said it. "And you kicked up quite a bit of dust."

She didn’t elaborate on either of those things and you didn’t ask, even though you wanted to. Anything that could get your mind off what happened.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yeah," you said dryly. "That’s why I’m sitting in the supply closet."

"That’s exactly what I told Steve." Your face fell again, but hers didn’t. "He’s alright. Or he will be, once he forgives me for laughing at him for five minutes."

That didn’t make you feel any better. "I fucked up today," you said softly, your voice still rough.

"You didn’t do anything wrong."

"I did, though. I literally froze as soon as things went wrong, and the chip—"

"Is expendable," Natasha interrupted calmly.

You shook your head. "I only mess everything up for you guys. I’m not a real agent, and my powers just make things worse, and I should just—"

"Do you realize that this thing you were given can be a gift?" You cringed and started turning away, but Natasha reached out for you, a gentle hand on your arm. "I mean it. You think every time you’re unable to use your powers is your personal failure, but you don’t see how every time you are able to use them is precious."

There was a delicate hue to her green eyes, a weariness that was visible even in the dim light of the closet. For the first time, you had the feeling she let you see something she usually wouldn’t.

"Our lives … they’re hard," she went on. "Unpredictable. We live on borrowed time. And you get to have more of it. That’s …" You waited for the words you’d heard before. Invaluable. Instrumental. Priceless. "Beautiful."

You swallowed hard. "Is that why you took me on? For the team?"

Nat looked at you for so long you were almost sure she wasn’t going to answer your question. Then, she said, "I took you on because you needed a reason to get up in the morning."

You stared at her, your nails digging into the palm of your hand until it hurt more than the ache in your chest. Natasha kept looking at you as she continued.

"I lost a lot of people over the years, you know. But never like this. Never this many at once. Something like that …" She trailed off, her eyes wet. "The entire planet was grieving and struggling and blaming us, because at that point hardly anyone understood any of it apart from the fact that the Avengers were involved. And then one day, out of nowhere, a letter materialized on our doorstep, and the security cameras didn’t show a thing." Her grip on your arm tightened, as if she needed to steady herself. "Do you remember what you wrote?"

I’m sorry for your loss.

You’d struggled to put it down for days, because how else could you apologize for something you might have been able to prevent had you only been there instead of hiding? In the end, you’d only added your name and the address of that diner in Brooklyn where you picked up a few shifts after their waitress had been blipped.

You’d gotten a call less than twenty-four hours later.

"You were the first person to say that," Nat continued, because she could see the memories flit across your face as easily as others watched a movie. "And yet, when you got here, you looked as guilty as if you’d personally murdered every single one of the Vanished."

"Well, if I’d been with you—"

"Stop it." For the first time, her voice was sharp. Your mouth fell closed. "We’re all trying to do better, right?"

You could only nod.

"That’s all anybody here is ever going to ask of you. And sometimes 'better' is just getting one hell of a kick in during a mission. Don’t think I didn’t see that."

You smiled ever so slightly. "I have a pretty good teacher."

"Yeah, you do." She shoved your shoulder lightly. "You can’t do more than show up and do your best, honey."

"My best looks like a dead possum next to yours."

"Then stop looking at me." Natasha got up to her feet slowly, patting you on the knee when she did. "Unless it’s for a post mission wind down because I have a movie queued up and I know where Steve hid the cookies."

"Can I have my cape back?"

"Nope." She folded it up with the green side out, letting it hang loosely over her arm. "You’re supposed to use it to hide from your enemies, not your friends."

You didn’t attempt to argue further, warmth rising to your cheeks.

"Nat?" She turned again, halfway down the hatch, caught by the emotion in your voice. "Thank you."

Her smile told you that, as always, she understood.

*****

There simply isn’t a world in which you can do this even one more time. It’s too much.

"You need to sort out your priorities," Sam says, zero sympathy in his voice. Bucky has the audacity to look amused.

"I’m serious," you say, looking between the two of them. "My day is bad enough already. I don’t care where we order, but it’s not going to be Italian unless you want me to puke on your cat."

Over the past couple of weeks, you’ve eaten your way through the entirety of your pizza place’s menu. If you have to smell the rank cheese Sam likes to order one more time, you can’t be held responsible for your actions.

"How about sushi?" Bucky says, and you almost start protesting out of habit before you realize that for once, he’s not arguing your side. You turn to Sam with an expectant grin.

"Fine," he grunts, shaking Alpine off his trouser leg as gently as he can while his nose twitches. "I guess Russian Doll has the right to choose his last meal."

Bucky frowns at him, but you gasp in delight. "Are you finally joining us in dark humor land, Sammy?"

He flips you off wordlessly as he leaves the room and you chuckle to yourself, pulling up the sushi menu on your phone. Alpine starts nibbling on the bandage around your foot that’s stretched out on the couch and you wiggle your toes a bit. It seems to entertain her.

"What," you ask when the staring becomes unbearable.

"Nothing."

When you lift your gaze to meet Bucky’s, his jaw is clenched again, his eyes fixed on you with a distant expression in them. You tilt your head, and he lowers his.

"So what’s the plan?"

You send your part of the order to FRIDAY and put your phone to the side. "I have to get back to Strange to figure out how to stop this loop from happening again."

You’ve almost felt sorry to see your series of library heists break, even though you have no reason to feel his way. This is progress. Strange’s offer to help has been genuine enough so far, even though you hate paying him in answers.

Now that he’s not deliberately keeping you out anymore, getting to the astral plane has been a lot easier, at least, even though emptying your mind enough to cross over without a prior emotional breakdown has still proven somewhat difficult. Weirdly, it’s easiest on the couch.

Bucky nods shortly. "And what do I do?"

"Whatever you want."

He scoffs. "Right."

It makes your insides twist. "Bucky, as much as I hope that today is the last time we’re doing this, I can’t guarantee it. So you should just, I don’t know, enjoy yourself." You cringe even as you say it.

"I wanna come see Strange."

You blink, watching him clench and unclench his fists slowly, deliberating. The golden parts of his arm gleam in the sunlight. "Why?"

His voice, when he speaks, sounds haunted. "I can’t just sit around and do nothing."

Something in his voice sticks with you as you lie down on the couch and stare up at the ceiling. You’re not even sure if what he’s asking is possible.

"No, it’s not," Strange says bluntly. "Not as long as you’re in the loop."

"Why not?"

"Stop asking questions and focus."

With a roll of your eyes, you raise up your arms again. So far, you’ve spent most of your so-called lessons trying to make sense of the cryptic texts Strange makes you read and then summarize like you’re in fifth grade. If you’re not doing that, you’re talking him through the events of your July 4th, or explaining your powers to the best of your abilities, going through the motions and habits you’ve taught yourself over the years. It all feels like you’re revealing something very personal for someone else to judge.

You don’t care much for any of it.

"Again."

"Is this supposed to teach me something new?" you ask, turning your thumb and first two fingers upwards again while your other hand balls into a fist by your side.Threads of sunlight glittering like spun gold. You take a breath and shake your head.

"Do you feel anything?"

Annoyance. You bite your tongue and reach out, carefully, like you would to a scared animal, searching for that old familiar feeling.

It takes a while.

Dim, at first, but clearly there, vibrating deep in your veins, hesitantly stumbling towards your hands like it was suprised, too, to be called upon again. Softly glowing embers slowly filling the void you’ve grown so hopelessly accustomed to.

You open your eyes to find the tiniest green spark dancing across your fingertips and almost laugh in relief.

"Interesting," Strange says.

You flick your fingers softly, once, twice, letting the spec of power grow until it’s the size of a pinhead, cradling it softly with your other hand as if to protect it from a gust of wind. Slowly, bit by bit, it settles back into your skin, and you feel it tingling all the way up to your ears.

Strange contemplates you for a long moment. "When did you get that cut?" he finally asks.

At this point, you should be used to his unfazedness. "Yesterday," you say, the 'obviously' clinging to every syllable. Riff was putting up a better fight than usual; or maybe you’re getting sloppy again.

Strange moves his right hand in that circular motion you’ve seen him do before, and the air in front of you cracks. It’s weird to see your own slightly translucent reflection suspended in the middle of your room. The gash on your cheek has barely had the chance to scab. You subconsciously reach for your necklace again.

"Look at the wound, and hold your hands like this."

You try and mimic Strange’s gesture. "I feel ridiculous." Like a mime. Or a really bad stage magician.

"Good," he says. "Now focus your powers, and follow my lead."

You watch Strange move his shaky hands out of the corner of your eye while trying to concentrate on that little spec of power you’ve felt earlier. Slowly, itchingly, the wound starts knitting itself together, as if it’s been healing for days. The skin smoothes over as if nothing had ever happened.

A rush of excitement goes through you at the sight, and there’s a stutter. With a flash of pain, the cut tears up again and you flinch, your hands falling.

"Fuck."

"I told you to focus."

"Well, if only saying it made it happen," you snap, then try again. This time, you let go of your power more carefully, almost coaxing it down. The gash doesn’t heal completely, but at least it looks better than what you started with. Strange watches you closely, brow furrowed deeply in thought.

"Let’s try something different," he says, and with another flick of his wrist, the mirror vanishes again. "Sit down."

You bristle at the command, but obey. A sidelong glance confirms that your sleeping body’s cut on the cheek has somewhat improved as well. There seems to be something connecting the two of you after all.

"When is this here, anyway?" you ask.

Once again, he doesn’t give you an answer. With another quick movement he grabs something through a small portal and throws it at you without any regard to your reflexes. You grab it off the bed incredulously.

"That’s … a meditation CD."

"Congratulations," Strange says. "You can read."

"You’re not serious."

"Deadly." He unfastens his cloak, which flies over to drape itself over the reading chair like a blanket, and then joins you on the floor, crossing his legs as well. It’s bizarrely casual. "If you don’t learn to focus," he continues, "there’s no moving forward from this point."

You huff, holding the CD out for him to take back. He doesn’t. "I’ve tried meditation," you say impatiently. "It doesn’t work for me. My mind—it doesn’t work for me."

"Your mind what?"

"It’s too loud."

You put the CD on the ground with a little too much force, moving to twist your rings around again, but they’re still absent. Your nails dig into your skin, instead.

"Did you know I don’t really forget stuff? Did I tell you that?" You laugh humorlessly, because what else can you do. "Fun side effect of the traveling back and forth through time. I always know where I’ve been and what I’ve done, and what everyone else has done while I was there. All that information is in my head, all the time, and I can’t get rid of it."

"All the more reason to have it quiet down every once in a while," Strange says calmly.

You want to strangle him.

"Believe me, I’d love nothing more, but I can’t. It’s not like I’m a computer and you can do the whole 'Hello, this is IT, have you tried turning it off and on again?' It doesn’t work like that."

"You do know a lot about how things don’t work."

"Welcome to my world," you mutter, flexing your fingers and crossing your arms before you draw blood.

Strange sighs. "Your mind isn’t a hard drive. No matter what your powers entail, your brain is still human. And it needs to rest every once in a while."

For some reason, in the middle of this whole crazy situation, that thought settles. Maybe it’s because it’s possibly the first genuinely kind sentiment he’s shown you so far. Maybe you’re just tired of pushing.

"How?" It’s more a croak than a question.

"Just stay like that and breathe." You look at him incredulously and he raises an eyebrow. "What? No one said you have to think nothing. It’s fine if you just sit there with your thoughts."

There’s a short pause. "That sounds terrifying," you admit quietly.

Strange considers you for a long moment, as if he’s contemplating what to say, until he finally admits, "I know."

***

You blink awake slowly this time, as if gradually awakening from a deep sleep. The TV is on again, quietly chattering in the background, and a weight on your legs tells you that Alpine has found a new spot again.

A glance at your phone shows that surprisingly little time has passed. When you sit up, the white cat on top of you complaining loudly, you can see Sam leaning against the kitchen counter, laptop closed, talking to Sarah on the phone.

The fact that you’re not alone quite yet is weirdly comforting.

In a moment of sleepy contentment, you reach out to scratch Alpine under the chin like you’ve seen Bucky do countless times. Curiously, she lets you without immediately extending her claws. At least for a moment.

"You’re awake."

Immediately, Alpine loses interest in you and jumps onto the backrest of the couch to nestle her head into Bucky’s palm. You roll your eyes.

"Keen observation, sarge."

He slowly peels his gloves off, not quite looking at you. "What did he say?"

Right. There was that.

"Nothing, to be honest," you say, folding up the throw blanket Sam must have put over you while you were sleeping. "Apart from the fact that he really can’t actually do as much as one would think."

"Can’t, or doesn’t want to?"

You shrug. "Same difference."

Despite everything, somehow you feel inclined to believe that there really isn’t a way to get Bucky to the astral plane, though. After all, things haven’t been normal ever since this loop began; and since you’re the only one who can lift it, maybe that also means you’re the only one who can do things like that.

You can only hope that at some point, something—anything—you do is going to stick.

Bucky studies your face, but doesn’t tell you whatever is still clearly gnawing at him. You don’t know why for a moment, you thought he would.

It reminds you of something you haven’t asked in a while.

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

His mouth opens, but he doesn’t speak immediately. "Like what?"

"It’s just …" You struggle with the words, as if your mind is still half-asleep. "In some of the loops, it was kind of …" You trail off when you notice he’s holding something in his other hand. "Did you go get coffee again?"

Bucky clears his throat. "Yeah. I thought since you didn’t get one earlier, ya know …"

You’ve stopped getting caffeinated drinks for yourself in the mornings to make it easier to get to that voidlike state you need to be in to enter the astral plane. It’s been making you rather irritable; though, truth be told, that might also be due to Strange’s charming personality.

"That’s nice," you say, reaching for the paper cup with your name on it, taking a sniff before tasting it carefully. It’s perfect. "I should change my habits," you say lightly, "if Lucy knows my order even if I don’t pick it up myself."

"Who’s Lucy?" Bucky says, sitting down on the couch next to you.

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes. "The pretty one on register? Stars and stripes on her cheeks?" He hums noncommittantly and you decide it’s not worth the effort. "What did you get?" you ask with a nod to the second cup.

"Just … coffee."

You squint to read the sticker, but he puts his fingers over it in a motion so smooth it almost hides its defensiveness. There’s the slightest hint of a grin on his face as you scowl, trying to catch his sleeve to get him to twist the writing back in your direction. Your thumb grazes cool metal and you still. Bucky does, too.

"Did she actually give you her number?"

Your laugh comes out through your nose, somehow, as if it’s not much more than a breath. The expression on Bucky’s face doesn’t quite fit his widening grin, or the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks, but you couldn’t say why.

"So?" he says. Alpine stares at you accusingly, settling in his lap once more.

"Nothing!" It comes out quickly. "I’m not surprised. I mean, she thinks you’re hot."

His eyebrow quirks. "Does she, now?"

You take a gulp of coffee so large it makes your eyes water. "Her shift’s probably over by now. You should call her."

"Why," Bucky says wryly.

"To take her out." Should you be weirded out by the fact that this is happening as soon as Bucky entered the store without you? You tug at the ring on your pinkie.

"Why do you want me to take her out if I’m gonna die later?" Bucky asks.

"Well, it might take your edge off for one."

"And why does my edge concern you?"

"Have you met yourself?" You shrug, your ears drumming. "Besides, it might be fun."

He doesn’t look at you as he takes a sip from his own coffee, as if still determined not to let you see his reaction. "You have a strange definition of fun."

Alpine yawns as if to agree. You stand up abruptly, suddenly nauseated from drinking too fast.

"I’m just gonna …"

Again, you don’t finish your sentence, and Bucky doesn’t stop you from grabbing your takeout containers and taking them with you to your room, where you stare at the toilet for a good minute, waiting for the queasiness to pass. Your meet your own gaze in the mirror.

The cut on your face looks better than it did a few hours ago.

You walk back into your bedroom and take a critical look at your bookcase.The Wind in the Willows is back in its place where it belongs. What isn’t there is the CD Strange finally managed to force upon you.

The rules of this multiverse crap are going to give you another migraine on top of your current one.

You sit down on the floor next to your window to eat, but your cheek keeps itching until you notice yourself tapping your chopsticks against the plastic container so hard soy sauce is splashing everywhere. With a displeased twitch of your mouth, you reach for your phone.

It rings for a very long time and you realize it’s already past midnight in Seoul when finally, there’s a voice on the other end.

"This better be good, agent Y/L/N."

Her voice is quiet, tired, and you press the phone to your ear even harder. "Can I ask you a hypothetical question?"

Doctor Helen Cho sighs deeply on the other end of the line, and you can almost picture her leaning back in her ergonomic office chair. "Alright."

You toy with the edges of the building scab on your cheek. "Is it possible for someone to go through physical changes and … not go through them at the same time?"

There’s a pause on the other end, followed by a sigh. "Are you asking me if Schrödinger’s cat is real or not?"

A living being that simultaneously is and isn’t dead? That’s a paradox you have an answer for.

The problem, as always, is you.

"Sort of. I don’t know." You bite your lip.

"You realize quantum mechanics is not exactly my specialty, right?" Even while she says that, you can hear the clicking of her keyboard. "You are talking about a body, I presume. A human one?"

"Mhm."

"And the changes?"

You think of the cut and the writing and Bucky’s blood on your sheets. And your changed clothes. "They’re only to the body itself. Everything around stays the same. Pretty much like Schrödinger’s cat, I guess. Nothing about the box changes." Ever.

There’s another pause before Helen speaks again.

"Look, as far as I know—and with all these new and upcoming aliens and superheroes and so on that have been appearing over the past couple of years that’s less and less, mind you—but as far as I know, humans can only be in one state at one particular time. There’s ways to accelerate healing processes or even meddle with the body in other ways, but it’s still an either–or scenario."

"So, it’s impossible?" you ask, biting your cheek.

"It’s improbable, based on what I understand." Time has definitely started to bleed into itself, then. Great. "But like I said, that’s not really my area of expertise," she continues. "Speaking of, though, I got an e-mail from your new captain earlier."

"You did?" you ask, surprised. Sam hasn’t said anything to you, not today or any other iteration of it.

"You can tell him I’m hearing the same things he has," Helen says. "My lab wasn’t approached, but I have a colleague at a partner institution who left for Madripoor a couple of weeks ago."

You’ve barely thought about ULTIMATUM and their experiments since you laid everything out for Sam and Bucky earlier this morning. Another wave of guilt flashes through you.

"I’ll tell him," you say tonelessly. "Thanks, Helen."

"In this hypothetical of yours," Helen says before you can hang up. "Who’s the observing party?"

You watch the green symbols circle around your wrist, once, twice, three times. "I’m not sure yet."

You stare at them for a while longer after the call disconnects.

"There’s nothing to observe when the flow of time is reduced to a single day," Strange says when you relay the question to him the next day, his voice dripping with annoyance.

"So there would be, usually?" you ask, eyes narrowing as you try to channel the flow of your powers into the palm of your hand, like he’s told you.

"It’s not a perfect comparison," he answers. "The cat is only dead or not because time passes. Time is only our way of perceiving space dimensionally."

"Time and relative dimension in space," you hum with a light smile. Your palm starts tingling. "But if it’s not that, either, then … I still feel like there has to be something I’m missing here."

Every single review of the mission fills in another piece of the puzzle, the map of the lab you draw on the whiteboard growing more and more detailed each day, but still, it’s never enough. You miss the way Steve would draw out detailed building plans and escape routes before any mission, such ease to the stroke of his pen; your own talent for drawing is borderline abysmal by comparison.

The green shimmer around your hand dissipates again. Strange groans, fingers massaging his temple like he, too, is getting a headache from this stupid realm. His cloak wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead.

"What you’re missing," he says through gritted teeth, "is the point of this exercise."

"Enlighten me," you snap back.

You watch him take a deep breath before he answers. "Do you, or do you not realize that this isn’t all about you?"

You huff. "If you say something like this is the universe imparting a message upon me, I got that point. The message is that I suck at what I’m doing."

"If that’s the message, then how come you’re not the one who’s really getting knocked around every single day?"

The anger and remorse that wash over you make your power flare up like a bolt of electricity, your fingertips and the dark of your eyes flashing an eery shade of green. You can feel the little hairs in the back of your neck stand up. Strange only looks at you, his expression unexpectedly somber.

"At least he doesn’t remember," you say tonelessly.

Strange smiles, but there’s no joy in it. "Indeed," he says.

The rush ebbs off, bit by bit, and you blink to get rid of the last of the strange double vision you sometimes get when time stutters again.

"You keep telling a man he will die today because you think that’s best for him," Strange goes on. "Better than him getting to choose his own path. Have you ever paid attention to how he spends his last precious hours once he knows?"

Of course you have. Sitting around in the Tower, going over mission plans again and again. Getting coffee. Lurking in doorways, leaning against walls, thinking, talking, looking.

It’s all time spent with you, and Sam, and Alpine.

It’s weird that you shouldn’t have realized this fact when in the beginning, you kept wondering about the time he came back to the Tower. Because before you’ve started telling him, Bucky always left.

Maybe that’s what you’re missing.

"Careful," Strange says, noticing your change in expression.

"You know me, doc," you answer, letting the power crackle again ever so slightly. It’s a thrill, getting to feel it again. "Careful’s basically my middle name."

***

"Doesn’t matter," Bucky says when you ask him what he’d be up to if you hadn’t told him about the loop.

"Oh no, leave me out of this. That’s his thing," Sam says when you ask him about the whole thing, and he so clearly knows what it is and yet refuses to tell you.

"None of your business," Bucky says when you press the matter, his jaw clenched tightly, and you hate to do this, but you don’t exactly have limitless options here. Besides, it’s the first new idea you’ve had in a while, which means there’s an almost moral obligation for you to go through with it. And still.

This feels wrong, you think when Sam comes to knock at your door and you throw on your gym clothes, pulling the sweatband over your wrist tightly.

This feels wrong, you think when you climb into the ring as if nothing had ever happened, as if this was just a normal day. Your side is still a little sore, but you’re able to play it off as a scratch with ease. How would he know to call you out on it?

This feels wrong, you think when you close your eyes as you lie on the mat and wait. You promised.

"You look like shit."

Your head turns like muscle memory. "Hey."

"Hi." Bucky’s eyebrow raises at your silence, but you’re not sure if the words aren’t just going to come bursting out of you. You have a tell. "You alright?"

Your grin tastes just a little bitter. "Why wouldn’t I be?"

"Right." He doesn’t quite believe you, of course, but it’s fine. You can do this.

You turn your gaze back to the ceiling and try to recall the very first July 4th, the version of you that you were. She resists you slipping her back on, but you take another deep breath, just like you’ve been practicing. A chuckle slips free.

"Fuck you, Barnes."

Your heart is still beating fast in your chest, but he must chalk it off to the training, because you can hear him huff. "There she is."

You close your eyes with a petulant sigh, just in case he can see your conscience written all over them. Again, you remind yourself that you tried asking him, that you tried everything else, that this is the only option you can think of right now.

"You’re horrible." It’s more like talking to yourself out loud, but of course Bucky doesn’t know that. And the sad truth is, he’s used to your temper.

"Take the towel on the right, I already used the other one."

You give an affirmative hum, waiting until you hear the door close behind him. Then, you rush to the showers, wasting no time to get ready and dressed again.

Bucky walks out the door of the Tower at precisely 09:43, a fact you know thanks to the time stamps on the security footage from the lobby you had FRIDAY pull up early on in the loop. This leaves you with a pretty small window of time to clean up, add another line to the tally on your thigh, and get back to your room to grab your stuff without making what you’re doing to obvious to either him or Sam. You have FRIDAY call up the elevator with barely a minute to spare, going down to the second floor and quickly heading towards the stairs. Behind you, the elevator dings once.

You basically sprint downstairs, readjusting your backpack. You almost barrel into the fire door, peering through the window into the lobby after another glance at your watch. Only a few seconds later, you can see Bucky walk across the entrance hall, the usual resting scowl on his face as he looks around once and then ducks out the side door.

You tug the cap you found at the back of your closet deeper into your face and start after him.

This feels wrong, and it’s a terrible idea, you can’t help but think as you watch him head down Lex, hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. His strides are long, but unhurried, and even though you know he’s the furthest thing from vulnerable, the fact that you’re seeing him unguarded like this doesn’t sit right with you. Nevertheless, you continue.

You expect him to head for the subway, but instead, he turns left after the Chrysler Building, going east. With a slightly confused frown, you briefly join a group of clearly lost tourists to cross the street and follow him back up Third Avenue. At least there’s just enough people around to make it easy enough for you to hide in a crowd, you suppose.

You’re going to follow him, and find out what he’s up to, and then you’re going to see if and how it all connects to this stupid loop.

Easy as that.

It’s about an hour and a half later when you seriously start cursing Bucky’s name. Inexplicably, he’s still just walking around the streets of Manhattan like a fucking peasant. Your clothes are sticking to your body in ways you don’t care to describe, and you’re sick of having to pretend to be interested in shitty Independance Day memorabilia and battered paperbacks on sale while trying to avoid eye contact with the people trying to sell them to you.

You’re also pretty sure you’re walking around in circles.

Letting your head fall into your neck, you blink up into the bright sunlight from underneath the shade of your cap. As always, there is not a single cloud in sight, a perfect Friday in July. It’s making your eyes burn.

You glance back at Bucky, who has continued walking after taking a look at his phone, and sigh. All of this would be so much easier with your powers.

"What on earth are you up to," you mumble to yourself as you watch him take another left.

You count to ten before rounding the corner as well—and then you yelp when you almost slam into Bucky’s chest.

"What are you doing?" He doesn’t sound annoyed at all; more entertained. You take a step back, assessing, but his face doesn’t betray him whatsoever.

"Going on a walk," you try cautiously.

"Yeah, right." He tilts his head, features despicably neutral. "Why are you following me?"

"I’m not?" He stares at you, and you groan. "Fine. I just wanted to see where you’re going?"

"Why?" There’s an edge to his voice that you can’t quite make sense of, but your thoughts tumble right over it, scrambling for an excuse and coming up empty. The glint in his eye is distracting.

"Because …" Because you don’t know what else to do at this point. "I don’t know, I was just curious."

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "That’s a lot of dedication when you could’ve just asked."

You look at him doubtfully. "So you’d have told me?" you say, already knowing the answer.

"No." He puts his hands back into his pockets and turns around, leaving you standing there staring at his back.

"Well, there you go then," you shout and start to follow along again. You take the stupid hat off with a sigh and stuff it into the backpack, wiping sweat off your forehead. "How long did you know I was there?"

Bucky shrugs. "About when I got outside."

"Seriously." He stares at you over his shoulder. "Seriously?!"

"You came down the stairs," he says, shaking his head. "And in a Yankees cap."

"So?"

"Don’t tell me you suddenly like baseball."

"I might like baseball," you mumble. "It’s a very fine … ball sport."

He snorts. "Sure ya do. I’ll remind you next time the game’s on."

"Circling back," you quickly change the subject, "why the fuck did you make me chase you halfway across Midtown if you knew I was there anyway?"

"It was funny." The shit-eating grin spreading on his face surprises you so much you stumble over your own feet. His arm extends to stop your fall if necessary, as if on instinct. "You know," he continues, "I thought you’d lost me on Times Square. Almost asked one of those guys in costume to help you out."

You slap his hand away. "You’re the worst, Barnes."

"And you’re a shit spy, time powers or not." The smile changes, but stays. Somehow, you’re glad.

Your fingers twitch inside your own pockets, your thumbs tracing along your rings. "So," you say, suppressing the nervous chuckle. "Where are we actually going?"

"Don’t know yet." Bucky turns his head to look out for cars before he continues walking. It takes you a second to match his pace again.

"What do you mean, you don’t know."

"Well, I had to cancel my plans because I got an amateur stalker on my heels."

"Wow." You squint at him and the blinding sunshine behind his head. "And you’re calling me stubborn."

"To your face? I would never."

Oh, you hate this.

"So we’re actually just walking around town for the hell of it." And you’ve done all of this for nothing.

"Yup."

The realization that you wasted yet another day by thinking you could be sneaky around Bucky almost takes you down a spiral, and you don’t even notice he’s still talking to you until he ducks his head to catch your eye. "Huh?"

"I said I’ll buy you a coffee. Think you might need it." He pauses. "That is, if you wanna."

"I could always go for coffee," you say, and it’s true. First, though, you should tell him. Rip the band-aid off and get it over with. "Listen, I—"

But then he looks at you, his eyes impossibly blue in the sunshine, and for the first time in weeks, you don’t have to deal with that damn preciousness in them, because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen, and so he just looks at you like he has a thousand times before, the normalcy of it like a breath of fresh air after his eyes have dragged you under again and again.

How come you’re not the one who’s really getting knocked around every single day?

Maybe it’d really be a kindness to spare him the news, just once. It’s still so early.

"What?" Bucky asks when the silence stretches.

You think of the ever unchanging Tower and the neverending pizza delivery and the fact that you hate this. You hate lying to him. You do it anyway.

Just once.

"I thought of something, but it doesn’t matter now," you say. "We have time."

***

"Are you gonna tell me what’s up with you?"

You pretend not to hear him, shuffling the straws around in their container until they look a bit more orderly. Even though you’re not working, even though this isn’t even your store, it’s hard to shake the need to feel useful. Particularly if you’re trying to ignore Bucky’s gaze burning into your neck.

You’re saved by your name being called out because your coffee is ready. For some reason, you half-expect him to swoop in front of you and take the drinks himself, but of course he doesn’t. Why would he?

With a shake of your head, you rid yourself of the ridiculous thought and hand Bucky his coffee without looking at him.

"You know," you say, stepping out of the crowded Starbucks into the sunshine. "I have a blanket somewhere in here." You point at your backpack. "We could try to fight for a spot in the park."

There’s a pause, and then Bucky sighs. "What else do you have in there, anyway?"

"Spy stuff."

You don’t expect him to find that funny, but he snorts slightly. Then, like a habit he can’t break, his gaze falls on your hands again.

"I’m just tired," you say wearily before he presses the matter.

"You should try the floor," Bucky says. "If you can’t sleep."

It helps, sometimes. "I’ll keep that in mind."

You take a sip of your coffee and scrunch your nose when you realize it isn’t what you ordered for yourself; it’s what you ordered for him. In your haste to change the topic earlier, you must have switched the cups.

"Sorry," you say, "this is actually—"

But you stop talking, because he’s already taking a tentative nip of yor drink, and then he licks his lips. And they curl slightly upwards.

He blinks a few times, as if he’s as surprised as you are, and tries again, less hesitantly this time. Then he looks at the writing on the cup. "Wait," he says, frowning, "I think you’ve got mine."

Your mouth closes, then opens again. "How do you know?" you finally say. "They both have my name on them."

"Yeah, but you always get the same thing," Bucky says, as if him knowing your order couldn’t possibly be news to you.

"It’s fine," you say when he tries to hand you your cup back. "Maybe I should try something different sometimes."

Bryant Park is already bustling with people, and it’s just about noon. The little green tables are all occupied by chess players and chatting families, the carousel horses manned with happily shrieking children.

Still, you find a place to spread out your blanket near the edge of the lawn, almost within talking distance of the Public Library’s security guard, who is currently on his first smoke break. You demonstratively sit down with your back to him. If ever a man took his job too seriously.

"Aren’t you hot in that?" you ask doubtfully when Bucky uncomfortably sits down opposite you, the collar of his leather jacket pushing up.

"'Course I am," he answers, not elaborating.

You let your eye roam through the park. "Terrible news," you say dryly. "Not a single person is looking at you, Sergeant Cool."

Bucky shakes his head, not looking at you.

"No one cares," you say, more sincerely this time. "Even if they did, they’re not gonna say anything. And they’ll have forgotten about you tomorrow."

He huffs again. "And you’re wonderin’ why I call you stubborn."

"I thought you didn’t do that to my face?"

He pulls his gloves off, throwing them on the blanket between you with his eyebrow raised. "Happy?"

In the bright sun, his left hand is gleaming, the inlets reflecting the light in a way that makes it dance across the cotton like swirls of pure gold. You smile and lean back, closing your eyes.

You don’t come to this park often, even though it’s not far from the Tower at all and it’s easier than returning to Central Park with all the memories it holds and that have turned more bitter than sweet after everything. It’s the same as with the library, you suppose. Sometimes you don’t even know you’re missing something until you find yourself in the middle of it.

It might have been a Saturday, you think, the last time you were here. What a concept; Saturday. You sit with the thought for a while, and then you let it drift away, just like you’ve been practicing.

It’s such an unexpected feeling, to get to experience this moment of quiet reprieve when lately, most of your time in this loop has been spent studying, or training, or fighting. You already know you’re getting another talking-to if you don’t return to the astral plane at all today; but it’s just the one day. Surely, you can be allowed one day.

Your brain craves it more than anything.

When you open your eyes again, Bucky is contemplating your backpack with a frown so oddly different than the one you’ve gotten used to in previous loops. He seems so … It takes you a while to come up with the right word, because somehow, it makes you think of Alpine, and that doesn’t make any sense at all. Comfortable. He seems comfortable.

His shoulders are relaxed, his jaw unclenched, and even though he’s still wearing the jacket, his eyes aren’t flitting around to assess everyone within sight. His head tilts slightly.

"Are you trying to see through it?" you say, and the dryness tastes wrong on your tongue.

Bucky nudges the backpack with his foot. "Just wonderin’ what you thought you were gonna be up to."

"I like to come prepared."

"Since when?"

Well, ever since resetting has kind of stopped being an option whatsoever. "This isn’t gonna turn into one of your 'constant vigilance' talks, is it, Moody?" you say lightly.

He looks at you again, and you’re not really sure if that’s better or worse. "You’re deflecting, doll."

"Well, what do I know!" you say. It’s worse, definitely worse, but you don’t know why. "You might have been off on a covert mission or visiting a secret girlfriend or buying a beehive to put on the roof or—"

He unzips the backpack. "So you brought a blanket, a baseball cap, binoculars and a banana?"

You try to bite your tongue, but it’s impossible. "I was kind of set on the bee scenario."

Bucky laughs.

Genuinely laughs. His nose scrunches up, his eyes creasing and his head thrown back a little, shaking with a quiet and almost childish glee as you blink at the unusual sight. It’s over almost as suddenly as it began, but … still. A warmth spreads from your chest to your cheeks as you watch him, your own smile almost hesitant by comparison.

Joy looks good on him.

It leaves a twinkle in his eye even as the laughter subsides, like specs of sunlight.

"What?" he says, his mouth still twitching.

"You seem happy." And it’s astonishing.

Bucky shakes his head slightly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s blushing. "No need to sound so shocked about it."

"You sure?" you ask, your voice cracking only a little. "I feel like I need to call an ambulance."

"Shut up."

"Or Area 51. I think you might’ve been swapped with an alien doppelganger." You sit up properly. "Tell me something only the real Bucky would know. Oh, wait. He wouldn’t have told me, either."

"You are the most dramatic person I know, you know that?"

"You’re one to talk, Sergeant I Need Nobody’s Help, I Will Jump Out Of  A Plane Without A Parachute."

"So many rank drops today."

"Now who’s deflecting?"

"I take calculated risks."

Except he doesn’t even know his calculator is broken.

Bucky stares at you. "What’s that even supposed to mean?"

You didn’t mean to say it out loud. Not today. Your fingers twitch automatically to take it back, but of course, nothing happens. Nothing apart from his attention being brought back to your black rings.

"What did you do?"

The concern in his voice is quiet, but it’s there nevertheless, and it makes your heart ache, long desperately for it to go away, to be replaced by the joy that was there mere seconds ago. You want to make this day stop, make the world stop so you can continue living in that ease of just sitting here and laughing together without thinking about anything else.

And then you realize what’s really happening, and the world chokes, like something falling into place.

For a moment, you can’t breathe as you look at him, whole and confused and missing parts he can’t even remember leaving with you, and you feel as though your heart might stop because the only thought running through your head is Please, not now. Not now. Not now. Every single beat is an echoing no inside your mind.

You are so fucked up, you think, but you can’t find it in you to stop looking at his face, nearly flinching as you shove the feeling all the way down, down, down, until you can feel it like a brick in your stomach. It’s nauseating, like the vertigo you get at the very top of a roller coaster just before the car drops into freefall.

"Y/N?"

"I don’t know," you say tonelessly. He must have noticed your face change, he must have. So why doesn’t the frown deepen?

"Liar." Your heart is still pounding so loud he must hear it, even over the racket of children screaming in delight and cars blowing their horns in the distance.

Concern, you think again. Exact same thing that you see mirrored on Bucky’s face right now. You're concerned for your friend.

Roommate, really.

Colleague.

Guy you sometimes work with, professionally.

Exactly. That’s it. That has to be it.

You’re in deep enough shit already.

He’s still waiting for you to say something and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, the buzzing in your head getting louder, and the only thing you can think to say is, once again, "I’m sorry."

Before Bucky can answer, his phone rings, and there’s the flicker of annoyance you’ve been waiting for.

"Hold that thought," he says. "Sam?"

Your heart sinks as Bucky presses his phone to his ear, reality catching up with you again. You try to rearrange your features into a neutrally curious expression when he glances back at you, but you’re probably failing horribly.

"No, I’m good, I didn’t end up going.Yeah. Alright."

You clear your throat as he hangs up. "So. Sam’s about to give his big speech then?"

Bucky looks bemused. "I’d hope not. That was hours ago."

"What?"

Confused, you look at your watch. Then you look at Bucky’s watch. Then you look at your phone.

Even though you can’t have been sitting here for more than thirty minutes, every clock you look at tells you it’s past 4 p.m. Confused, you twist your rings around your fingers, one by one, but they’re as pitch black as ever, and yet somehow …

"Should we go?" you ask, your voice just a little pitchy.

Bucky gazes at you for a very long moment, and then gets up to his feet and holds out his hand to pull you up. He still hasn’t put his gloves back on.

You take it.

"You’re really off today," he remarks and you hum noncommittantly as you fold the blanket back up and unceremoniously stuff it into the backpack. He shoulders it himself before you can grab it. "You’re just gonna complain again," he says, even though the Tower isn’t that far.

You don’t say anything, though, just trudging behind him without a glance back.

Probably because of the time of day, 42nd street is packed. You watch Bucky pass through the crowd with his head downcast and his hands back in his pockets. If it’s been a struggle not to get separated from him earlier this morning, it’s near impossible now.

He looks over his shoulder when, for the third time, several people have pushed between the two of you, and you shrug helplessly as you try to catch up to him. Again, you can’t help but think this would be so much easier with your powers working the way they’re supposed to; just stopping everyone else for a second while you move past them.

"Sorry," you mumble when you reach him waiting for you at a crossing. All of a sudden, you feel how tired you’ve been for a while.

"Wanna just go home?" Bucky asks.

"That’d be nice," you say, cringing at the thought of having to change immediately once you get back. Sam is probably already impatient.

Bucky’s mouth twitches. "Don’t make this a thing."

And then he takes your hand again and links his fingers with yours as if he’s done it a thousand times before. The light changes to green, but you don’t move, and Bucky softly tugs to get your attention. His hand is solid and warm in yours, and it does nothing to ease the feelings of unease and contentment that mingle in your stomach with his touch.

Neither does the fact that as soon as the crowd disperses and you slowly, reluctantly let go of his hand, he steps out into the street with his head half-turned to you and—well.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and it’s like the air is getting knocked out of your lungs.

After that, the days start to blur.

***

"Why would it have anything to do with the mission?" Strange asks, and you can’t decide whether he sounds condescending or genuinely confused.

"Because it’s never happened before then, maybe?" you say, throwing up your arms. "I don’t know!"

"The loop is tied to you, not the other way around. If Sergeant Barnes has only ever died during the mission before today, the only other variable in that equation is you."

His cloak curls at the seams in a way that’s almost apologetic. What a stupid thing to say about a piece of magical fabric, you think.

"Great," you huff, sitting down on the ground and crossing your arms in order to not shake violently. "So first time’s skipping and now if I spend time with him, he’s just gonna die earlier?"

There’s a pause as Strange frowns. "Show me your wrist."

You press your lips together tightly and hold out the arm with the swirling green symbols. Strange examines it with a particularly grim expression.

"Just say it," you mutter when it becomes unbearable.

"Time is a precious thread in the fabric of the universe," he says, dropping your hand. His silver eyes are very serious. "You don’t get an endless supply of it."

"I literally do," you reply, flourishing your wrist demonstratively. "That’s the whole problem."

"No." Strange shakes his head. "Your reality is going to collapse if time can’t move on from where it’s stuck. Not today, not tomorrow, but it will happen."

You stare at him with wide eyes. "What does that mean?"

"It means, no more distractions. Things are detereorating more quickly than I’d hoped." He sighs, and there’s something about his demeanor that lets real fear course through your bones for the first time in a while.

"Okay," you say, swallowing it down. "Let’s do some overtime, then."

"I’m afraid that’s not how it works. Look at her."

You glance at your sleeping body, stirring in her sleep.

"You asked when this is," Strange continues. "That’s the thing with this version of the astral plane. It’s unstable. It only exists between dreaming and waking, and so our time here is very limited. You are then, and now. Past and present and future all folded into each other and wrapped into one. The nature of time doesn’t like this."

"So, what?" You laugh humorlessly. "I go through an endless day, and then reality crumbles anyway?"

"Do you understand now why it’s so important that you get a grip on your powers?"

Because you’re the one who created the loop, and therefore the only person who can untangle it again.

"So no pressure then," you say tonelessly.

"All of the pressure, I’m afraid," Strange says grimly. "There’s really no time to waste anymore."

***

"When we live such fragile lives, it’s the best way we survive. I go around a time or two, just to waste my time with you."

Your head has started pounding to the beat of the song and Sam’s fist at your door, but you keep staring at the ceiling, unmoving. It all just starts over.

Even this godawful song.

"Tell me all that you’ve thrown away. Find out games you don’t wanna play."

You must admit, the universe has a certain sense of cruel humor. Not that that’s any news. It doesn’t fucking matter what you do any of these days, because the outcome stays the exact same, and there’s a moment each and every time where Bucky knows that, too. Only by then, it’s too late.

"Geez, I hate you."

You’re so tired.

"I know, Buck."

Fade to black. Back in with a blast and the sun in your face, FRIDAY blasting The—

"I’m coming in," Sam finally shouts from the other side of the door. "You better not be naked!"

You hear him enter, but you still don’t move. You’re busy replaying that look on Bucky’s face in your mind of the exact moment it goes wrong. It looks so pale, his mouth twitching downwards, a bit like with his coffee, but much more devastating.

Black out. Rewind. His eyes are on you, not even on the white jacket shooting him.

Black out. Rewind. The fingers on his metal hand grasp so tightly around your wrist you feel something move underneath your skin.

"What is going on with—Y/N!" You feel Sam rushing to your bedside in three long strides.

Right. You’re still covered in blood.

You can’t look away from his eyes until the last second. Black out. Rewind.

"FRIDAY, turn this shit off. Call an ambulance."

"Calling 911."

The sudden silence slams you back into the present with a start. "Cancel call," you say loudly, your voice only slightly shaking. "I’m fine, Sam."

"You don’t look fine!" He helps you sit up, looking you up and down, a sense of urgency still vibrating in his every movement, but of course, you’re not bleeding. "You look like you just shot a man and then rolled over."

"You’re not wrong," is all you get out before you start crying.

Black out. Rewind. God, you’re pathetic.

You shrink back from his arms, cradling your wrist to your chest. It’s starting to swell.

And yet, the green symbols swirl.

You’re not sure why you’re reacting like this now, after … you’re not sure. It’s not like this is your first time. Does that make you an even worse person? Probably.

Sam is talking to you, you recognize his voice, but you can’t focus on the words. You’re desperate to find something to focus your attention on, like you’ve been trying, training, grasping to do, but you’ve got nothing. Just numbness, a gaping nothingness, and the scars to prove you’re not just stuck in a nightmare but this is in fact your reality, and you are the only thing that remains while everything else resets in an endless cycle of hell, over and over and over again.

Nothing stays.

And you can’t help but feel like you’re running out of time, anyway.

This is ridiculous, you know that. You know you’re worrying Sam out of his mind, that you just need to focus, damnit, take a breath, stop crying, anything. Your incompetence to do any of these simple tasks is like another slap to the face.

Time passes, and doesn’t pass; it doesn’t matter at all whether you’re there for a minute or six hours, it’s all the same to you.

Through the fog of it all, Bucky’s voice is like your lighthouse.

And you despise yourself for it, even as you reach out for him.

"Hey," he says quietly, his hands rubbing circles into your back until he slowly, carefully pulls you out of your head back to earth. "It’s alright. Everything’s okay."

He says it over and over and over again until you nod slowly. It’s a pretty lie, after all.

"What happened to your wrist?"

You know what you have to do, but that concerned undertone makes it so hard. You’re still not used to it, but you want to be. Fuck, you want … No.

It doesn’t matter.

"I need to tell you something," you whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear. "One more time. And then … Then that’s it."

You have to do this. Have to close yourself off emotionally. Distance yourself from Bucky in order to stay rational about this situation and find your way out. Treat this like you’re not involved at all; like this is just another puzzle for you to solve, and nothing else.

It’s the only way.

You’re going to fix this mess you’ve created, if it’s the last thing you do.

*****

"If we die here tonight, I’m blaming you," you told Steve through chattering teeth, and he laughed at you. If you hadn’t still felt bad about his bruises���no matter that they’d already healed completely again—you might have kicked him in the shin.

You’d reached the point of wanting to kick Captain America on a concerningly regular basis.

This time, though, you felt completely within your rights, because you’d been training hard all week, and thanks to New York being just about the most disgustingly freezing place on the planet if they asked you, you really didn’t see the point of driving into the city to a random ice rink. Particularly not on an evening in early January when it was already dark outside.

"You’ll be warmed up in no time," Steve said and waved at Nat, who was already waiting for the two of you, the hood of her sweatshirt pulled up so the red roots of her hair stayed hidden.

"Couldn’t we have done this at the lake?" you asked, looking around wearily. The crowd was substantial.

"Sure," Nat said and put an arm around you. "Do you have about fifty friends we can invite so we can properly train your powers around other people?"

You grimaced. "There are children everywhere."

"Oh, yeah. Some of them went home early, but most opted to stay when I told them Steve would drop by."

You groaned. Of course they were Natasha’s Blip orphans; they had the same mischievous shimmer in their tired eyes. "Thanks for that, Nat."

"You’re so welcome," she answered, patting your shoulder. You narrowed your eyes when her coat shifted to the side.

"Is that my hoodie?" you said.

She looked down as if she hadn’t noticed what she was wearing at all. "Yeah, I think so."

"I was looking for that everywhere earlier!"

Natasha merely shrugged. "It’s your own fault for leaving your stuff in the dryer for anyone to take."

"Don’t pay attention to it, she does it to all of us," Steve said, putting an arm around her.

"That is not true."

"It is. You’re like a clothes hoarding dragon."

"Did you just call me a dragon?"

You didn’t listen to the rest of their bickering, because your eyes had started to water, and not because of the cold. It’d been a long time since you’ve felt this warmth inside, this feeling of belonging, of, well … family. It made your powers pulsate through your veins soothingly.

Still, the worry came back when they gave you a helmet and knee pads to wear.

"I’m a travesty on skates, but it’s not this bad," you told Natasha again when you shakily followed her to the rink entrance.

"We’re here to train, not to have fun," she said, taking your hands. Of course, she moved like a dancer even on the ice. "Well, both," she amended when you looked unconvinced. "Oh, don’t look at me like that, it was Steve’s idea."

"Then why is he sitting over there doing nothing?"

"He’s got the day off." She pulled you to the side of the rink. "Here’s what we’re gonna do," she said, pointing to the far end. "I’m going to close my eyes and you’re going to guide me straight through the middle to the other side."

You stared at her. "You’re insane."

Natasha ignored you. "One straight line, you tell me when to dodge someone. We’ll go slow."

"I don’t know how many times I can jump."

"It’s not exactly a life or death situation, Y/N. I can survive a few bruises and so can the kids."

"I’d rather not injure a child if you don’t mind," you say, trying not to sound hysterical.

"And I’m confident that you won’t. Do you trust me on this?"

You met Nat’s calm gaze and took a breath, even though the knot in your stomach tightened. "Fine."

"Such a vote of confidence," she snorted. "Just watch what they’re doing, and keep it in mind. Think of it like a dance recital. It’s all just a sequence of steps in a specific order."

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded. Natasha closed her eyes. "Ready?" you asked.

She smiled. "I love this song."

You could barely hear the music over the thrum of adrenaline, but you supposed that was her way of saying yes. This’ll be the day that I die.

You pushed forward.

chapter six

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

[pooplyface1423]

Through Dusk and Dawn

"Through dusk and dawn" means throughout the entire night, from the time it starts getting dark (dusk) until the first light of day appears (dawn), essentially encompassing the whole nighttime

Shadow x reader (platonic)

Warnings : none other than Shadow already has a tiny soft spot for reader

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

One of your worst nightmares coming to life was not what you planned for this year.

Losing the people u cared for the most was awful.

Never thought it would've come to this you thought

You were nowhere to be seen during the guardianship stuff always hiding in the bathroom to wipe tears of sorrow and guilt people might ask why you feel guilt but the thing is you had nothing to do with it you just feel like you should of done something but didn't you blamed yourself for it.

Once Tom and Maddie got full guardianship over you they finally got to take you home with them.The drive from the foster care centre and to there home was wierd Tom having lost his brother (ur dad) was hard on him but they always had this promise to each other that if something went wrong that the other would care for their family and Tom wanted to keep that promise and make it true.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

*Car stops*

You got to were you would call home

Tom and Maddie help you w ur 2 bags while u carried ur main bag w all ur most personal things

Once the door opened sonic and tails were the first to try to greet you

“Oooooh hiii you must be y/n! Nice to meet you!” Said sonic with a warm smile

“Sonic she can't hear you…” said Maddie

“Oh let me speak louder my bad HI IM SO-” I mean she's deaf sonic she can read lips but she can't hear anything”says Maddie

“Oh I'm Sorry”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Maddie an Tom help u set up in the room you'd stay in

As you entered you saw a beautiful room decorated with a small vase of flowers and a candle in a nightstand next to it you saw two small beds in one of them was a small black and red hedgehog sitting down reading a book

Feeling interrupted shadow wanted to say something

“I'm sorry shadow but quickly we wanted you to meet y/n she's my niece and she will share a room with you for a while until we find a way to set everything up” says Tom looking at shadow hoping for a small “okay” or a head nod

Shadow nods his head and continues reading

After putting ur things away Tom writes on a sticky note

“Wanna have pizza for dinner?”

You wrote back

“Ok sure” just wanting to be left to your own thoughts

Tom could feel that you were probably not in the mood for anything so he waved goodbye and left

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Now being alone (w only shadow being there) you finally felt the wave of grief hit you like a stack of bricks a few silent tears slipped down your cheeks onto ur knees as you hugged them tighter hoping everything was a bad dream even if you knew it wasnt….

Shadow took notice of this since he could hear what you thought were silent sobs were actually not that silent but quite enough he could hear.

Jumping of his bed he thought he should see what's wrong since he did overhear Tom and Maddie talk about why you were coming to sonic tail and knuckles. He slowly climbed up into you bed and tapped ur hand gaining ur attention

“Are you okay” he said, feeling a small shock as he was reminded of Maria as soon as he saw our tear filled eyes.

You read his lips and nodded your head in a no motion

Shadow felt a small crack in his heart seeing you like this,as it reminded him so much of his sweet maria.he said something gaining no response and thought maybe u wanted to be left alone as he was about to go back to his bed you held onto his hand patting the side next to you signalling him to sit next to you

You quickly grabbed a notepad u had in you bag and wrote

I'm sorry if u said anything but I can't hear you

“It's okay, do you wanna write about why ur crying?” he wrote back

Not right now can you just stay with me for a bit?

You wrote back waiting for a reply

Shadow slowly nodded, feeling a small wave of happiness in his heart being able to be wanted was not new but it was a feeling he's almost forgotten about since the last time he felt it was with her..

as he say back next to you layer down motioning him to do the same

As you both layer in your bed in comfortable silence he noticed you seemed less tense as you did when u got here.after a while he poked his head up to she if you doing okay only to see you in deep sleep. Feeling like his job was done he thought he should head back to his bed but he felt like his heart was telling him to stay feeling as if he left you would disappear.

Around 20 minutes after shadow Slowly felt his eyes starting to feel heavy he wanted falling asleep next to you but before anything happened he snapped back as he heard someone approaching quickly teleporting back into his bed

As the door opened he looked up from the open book seeing tails and knuckles acting nonchalant he looked at them with a speak or get out face

Seeing that tails spoke up

“Maddie wanted us to let you and y/n know that the pizza is almost here and to come to the table” he said sheepishly

“Well be there in a bit”he said as tails and knuckles left the room

Shadow walked over to your bed and slowly shook you awake

He quickly wrote on the notepad “pizza I here let's go eat” as you woke up.

You quickly nodded as you were hungry quickly, getting up and following him to the kitchen

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Finished!

Thanks for reading!

I lwk LOVE how this turned out hope you guys like it too<3

Taglist

@bluefang1 @fawnsies @sabakarp @z3zabytez @ellaprime7 @buddee @star-maker-rain-dancer @generousdiamond

[cc1306]

hopeless romantic! suna, who can’t stop zoning out, while you’re telling him all about the fight the twins got in during second period. he stares at you blankly, thinking about the way your nose crinkles from laughter as you’re talking to him. cute.

hopeless romantic! suna, who asks, “sorry, what were you saying?” in response to you waving your hand in his face and snapping him out of his daze. with a slight blush on his face, he turns his head, mortified that you caught him failing to pay attention.

“seriously…keep up!” you reprimand him with a half-serious frown and a pout, and he forces himself to pay full attention not wanting to subject himself to such embarrassment again.

hopeless romantic! suna, who stays up late that night facetiming osamu, as he rambles on about some argument he and atsumu got into earlier in the day.

“sunarin, pay attention! quit thinking about [name], i’m talking to you,”

“i wasn’t thinking about her,” he defends, knowing full well that he was wondering if you were still awake before osamu interrupted.

“right, and i’m not the better twin. you know, you should just confess to her before it’s too late. someone else might make a move before you do, then you’ll never get to be with her.”

osamu’s statement made suna think hard.

“…yeah well she doesn’t like me like that. we’re just friends ‘samu.”

“you two are insufferable. let me know when you grow a pair and finally ask her out,” osamu groans out, growing tired of suna’s crippling fear of rejection.

“whatever… im tired now, bye,” suna cut off osamu’s rant with a yawn, before he ended the call.

would she really go out with someone else?

today was the day. suna decided that today would be the day he put his fear to the side and told [name] how he felt. he felt his hands tremble every time she was near and his heart pound, as adrenaline surged through his body.

during your lunch break, you sat on the roof together, just the two of you alone. suna saw this moment as his opportunity, the perfect chance to try and confess his feelings to you. you were currently rambling to him again, telling a story he honestly tried to listen to, but it proved difficult considering his heart was beating out of his chest, as he thought of how you’d respond to what he was about to tell you.

“and then aran and kita told me-“

“[name], i-“ he interrupts you mid-sentence, but his voice got caught in his throat. he cursed himself for being so nervous, all he had to do was say the three words but nothing came out.

“yeah, what’s up?” you ask him, as you drink from your strawberry milk carton contentedly.

“i…umm… i have something to tell you,”

okay yes, good start. just tell her.

“okay…should i be worried?” you ask, starting to get concerned about how serious suna suddenly became.

you thought he’d been acting strange the past week, like how he’s been zoning out recently when speaking to you, or just staring strangely. you’re getting the vibe that somethings wrong with him. maybe he’s sick? maybe he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore? you have no clue what to think, so you chose to hear him out.

“no…well, maybe.”

he felt his hands getting clammy and nervously rubbed them on his trousers. his eyes darted everywhere, looking at everything in the room except back at your own expecting pair. he realised he’d been silent for too long - he needed to say something now.

“i have to tell you how much you mean to me. you might not realise it, but i’m obsessed with you. i think of you before i sleep, and you’re the first thing i think of when i wake up. you consume me, and i don’t know what i would do without you,” he blurted out, speaking so quickly you wouldn’t have been able to keep up if you weren’t listening so intently.

you sat there, stunned in silence. of all things he could’ve said to you, you certainly didn’t expect this. he took your silence as a signal to continue his speech.

“i need you in ways that surely can’t be healthy,” he chuckled, releasing a nervous breath.

“i-“

“you don’t have to accept it. i don’t expect you to tell me you feel the same, but i’d wait forever for you. if you want to be just friends then we will. but you have to tell me what to do. i like you so much. you can say you hate me. you can say you don’t feel the same. just tell me the truth.”

he couldn’t muster up the courage to look you in the eyes, so he kept his gaze trained to the ground, staring hard at the laces of his shoes.

“suna..” you started, forcibly sucking in a breath of air since you felt like all of it had been knocked out of your lungs.

“that’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me. thank you. i don’t now what i’d do without you either because i like you too,” you confessed as he rushed to hold you in his arms in a warm hug.

“thank God, i don’t know what i’d do if you rejected me,” he joked, covering up his anxiety with humour.

“i could never reject you,” you beamed at him in return. he felt his heart explode.

hopeless romantic! suna, who returned to last period that day with a smile from ear to ear, as he entered the classroom hand in hand with you by his side.

[taylovelinus]

no offense but there is almost nothing in the world more shameful to me than letting your child be an ipad baby. I'm not saying parents don't have it hard, but I personally could not live with myself if I purposefully let my child get addicted to the technological equivalent of black tar heroin just because I'm too fucking tired to parent. literacy rates are at a record low right now -- partially because schools removed phonics from their curricula, yes, but also because fewer and fewer parents read to their children or encourage them to pick up a fucking book. you are allowing your child to emotionally and intellectually stunt themselves, and for what? I'm not saying kids shouldn't have any access to television or computers (they should, although particularly for computers I'd encourage one stationary PC in a computer room like we had in the 90's and 2000's), but no, your child should not have unsupervised, unlimited, unadulterated access to everything the web has to offer at the tender age of 6. or give them some age appropriate video games for god's sake. mario or spyro or SOMETHING. something other than tiktok and youtube. call me crazy for thinking that that's shit parenting. not to mention that by only giving them access to ipads and iphones that they don't know how to work actual computers anymore (go on, ask your 12 year old to open and save a file folder on your desktop, I dare you). a generation of shitty parents who have raised emotionally stunted low-attention-span illiterate incurious apathetic children who will very soon become an entire generation of illiterate incurious apathetic voters and consumers. that's another thing, too -- your children are constantly being advertised to and are being groomed to be relentless and uncritical consumers. your children are being preyed upon on multiple levels and you don't fucking care!! easier to call people giving you warnings "prudes" and "boomers" than actually think critically about your child and their future.

look I know parenting is hard. Unfortunately for you, your child didn't ask to be born, and it is nonetheless YOUR responsibility to raise them well and give them every fucking opportunity you can. and I am watching millions and millions of parents who could not give less of a fuck that they are actually materially disadvantaging their own children. im sick to my stomach for real.

[aziraphales-library]

Hiiiii, i hope you're all having an amazing day on whichever day this gets seen, i owe you my life for running this incredible blog 💛💛💛

Would you happen to know of any meet cute human au fics in which Crowley is a cat dad? (preferably M or E rated, but im not that picky) There's just something very endearing to me about Crowley owning a cat that i can't explain...

Thank you in advance for your help!! 💛

Hello! Here are some fics in which Crowley has a cat...

with the help of a cat, or two by whicorzoo (G)

In which the cat in the window of the flat right across from Crowley's is unfairly perfect, so on a particularly whimsical night, he decides to put up a sign in his window to tell his neighbor as much. By morning, he's forgotten about it, until he sees it in his window and regrets the decision entirely. He expects to have his cool, intimidating facade never taken seriously again. He does not expect a response.

Pass the Star by mageofthepeople (E)

An Ineffable Wives roller derby AU Azalea Fell meets Antoinette Crowley at her first roller derby bout with a new league. After an incident leads to a trip to A&E, the two are drawn to one another but Crowley is reluctant to potentially ruin a great friendship for something more.

But, soft! by On1OccasionFork (M)

With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls, For stony limits cannot hold love out; And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me. -Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene ii Crowley's life is going well. He's got his shop, his friends, and a new flat with a balcony perfect for a few plants. That's when things start to get complicated.

love like yours (will surely come my way) by CCs_World (T)

Dr Zira Fell is a new professor of theology at St Beryl's University. His first day there he meets the mysterious and enchanting Dr AJ Crowley, an art history professor and a painter. They almost immediately become friends, and spend most of their time getting lunch together, talking, drinking wine, making art, and falling slowly in love with one another. Featuring cameos of everyone's favorite (and least favorite) characters, gratuitous descriptions of paintings, long text messaging conversations, and one cranky cat.

Or Be Nice by charlottemadison (E)

Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbours. And...it does not go at all well, until it does. A human AU in which Aziraphale is a bookseller, Crowley is a drummer, and they are both petty disasters in the worst/best way. +++ “So what’s your deal?” “My-my-my deal?” Aziraphale stammered. “I’m a bookseller, is my deal.” “Oh,” Crowley replied, sounding as uninterested as it was possible to sound. “It’s just, I couldn’t help overhearing, and --” Aziraphale swallowed hard. “You really are an accomplished musician. But I thought -- for after 11PM -- perhaps we could reach some arrangement?” “Arrangement?” Aziraphale felt his his smile turning forced. “Such as, perhaps, playing the drums *before* eleven? Instead of after?” Crowley stared blankly at him. In fact he stared for so long that Aziraphale briefly wondered if he'd lapsed into ancient Greek again, which he was known to do in bad dreams or during panic attacks.

Whickber Street by Caedmon (E)

Anthony J. Crowley doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy. He’s finally quit his old job and is opening his childhood dream: a comic book shop. All of the neighbors are great, but the bookseller seems to hate him… Aziraphale Eastgate grew up in his great grandfather’s shop. Now he runs it and lives above it. He loves everything about his life on Whickber Street…. but the new proprietor down the street has him terribly, terribly vexed. Sparks fly when these two meet, and Aziraphale vows to hate him forever. Fergus, meanwhile, sets a timer. Looks like Cupid has come to Soho.

- Mod D

[jack-kellys]

so we all know life is a circle. thus fandom is a circle. we see things come back around like the de/twinkification of racetrack higgins. or cowboy versus artist jack kelly. or "mom" friend david jacobs and the perpetual need to make the newsies some kind of heteronormative family. and yet again we've found our way back to the anti katherine pulitzer arc of her "getting in the way" of jack and davey's popular subtextual/fanon relationship. (yes im late nevermind that.)

now, not being a katherine fan is different than being anti-katherine. not being a katherine fan means you might have criticisms like "i'm not sure how she serves the newsies narrative better than, say, sarah jacobs, as sarah is more aligned with the newsies contextually/societally and katherine is very distant and rich lol", or even "i'm not a big fan of how katherine seems to be tired of jack's shit for most of the play and then 'suddenly' finds romantic interest in him within one song".

but being anti-singular-young-woman-character because of a ship between the main two boys is. a tired take is it not? again with the circle, we've had this discourse already and its been cut out. since 2012 and 2017 we been talking about this girl and her value, but not in the context we should be.

(because the context we should be talking about it in is a newsies 1992 versus newsies broadway context, not an anti-katherine context, but i digress.)

katherine's value. what is there to mine from? she is an extremely young woman reporter, 17-18 years old, whose article makes the front page of the new york sun. since she writes under a pseudonym, i'm presuming she writes with skill well above her age to be published at all (yes, even writing vaudeville reviews). in past productions she either finds the newsies at jacobi's because she saw the walk-out (TWWK) from inside The World (UK), or jack kelly simply interests her enough for her to seek him out again (Broadway/Tour/Live). she is unsure about herself as a writer despite her skill which is made clear in her song. she is rich. she did not need to have a career and was encouraged not to. pulitzer is her father and she does not get along with him. she matches jack word for word, often with davey at her side. she mills comfortably about the newsies through the second act and has a friendship of some kind with specs specifically. she also literally says "that's a face [jack's] that could save us all from sinking in the ocean/like someone said 'power tends to corrupt'" essentially prophesying the act 2 betrayal. which is crazy.

you can draw your own conclusions from the above, but all of it is essentially canon? right? so maybe you don't have to be a fan of all of it, but you're really going to tell me absolutely none of this is compelling. that none of this is something you can interpret for yourself as complex. that albert is more complex.

this is not me saying you have to include katherine in everything, because that isn't what this post is about. this is about individuals choosing to dislike or devalue katherine by only viewing her in relation to her as a romantic interest, instead of a complex character in a period piece with a full arc. yes a full arc. it's the musical that's rushed not katherine.

@we-are-inevitable speaks on this extremely well in the comments of this post as well, more in connection to katherine as being a compelling romantic interest in the context of newsies speaking in the defense of love interests/often women characters. in this post i speak on how i would navigate jack/katherine as a director, and in this post i speak on how to direct something to believe in to make it, well, believable, aside from its awful writing for both kath and jack. because again, fandom is a circle, and i literally talked about how to "fix" jatherine in august 2024. at length

[genderqueerdykes]

How to deal w a longtime friend that at some point became a radfem? I was bad at recognising it back then when there were clear signs and didnt know how to argue, so i stayed passive and argeeable, esp since im a nonbinary guy n shes a (sorta questioning) cis girl.

When i showed discomfort with her doing the "i hate all men" type stuff she's said "omg you're not one of those 'not all men' types" and bc i didnt know at the time i backed off, n she also mentioned how she sees/treats both trans men n cis men the same

I mean ive always felt like she's treated me that way, or that i felt like i needed to stay silent or had more priviledge when around her, despite being pre-everything and pr much closeted in my everyday life, or felt more like i was a binary man around her when im not

She has also been sorta weirdly sex/kink negative or made fun of it, for some time i figured that it was just a bit bc of her being sex repulsed n her being immature, but i still felt sorta more ashamed regarding my kinkiness/sexuality around her when not (were both on the aroace spectrum, though i figured out more recently)

Also parroting radfem rhetoric about "well the sex industry is harmful" (..every capitalistic industry is harmful) and when mentioning kinks/fetishes for some reason often brought up "but what about those kinks where people get off to women starving themselves/having problems w their weight" which is like?? Yea okay if they are doing that to real people thats bad but like what kink/fetish spaces do you hang out in where that would be the first thing you'd bring up??

I also once remember her mentioning that she felt weird about her own connection to masculinity, which i sussed and esp now sus might be due to her being this man-hating

She's told me "you don't have an issue w the 'man vs bear' thing since you're a guy right?" but i didnt feel like arguing at that time so i just agreed and quickly moved onto another subject

Looking back at older texts, she's also said before that im "one of the few men she actually respects"

I've realised how harmful and bull radfem rhetoric is now, n i want to keep a distance from her, but idk how to deal w it bc ive always been the more agreeable and peace-keeping one between us

i'm so sorry you had to go through this. radfems are possessive of the identities of everyone around them to the point of coming up with the most asinine bullshit to make other people feel insecure and question themselves and just go along with whatever the hell they're saying. it's toxic and abusive.

whenever i talk about transmasculine and trans male issues, i get those "oh you're one of those not all men types" as well. it's such a useless thing to say. like if the thing you're opposing is people making blanket statements about women and being treated like a monolith, why are you doing it to someone else? that's the example you're setting, but yet you expect different treatment? double standard.

the sex & kink negativity in radfeminism is exhausting, too. it's not progressive. a lot of people choose to go into sex work and enjoy it. some don't mind it. some are okay with that being their job. a lot of people are exploited, but not everyone is. like you said, it's the capitalist corruption of these industry that causes problems. like you said, people instantly jump to the worst possible conclusion when the subject of kink comes up

the normal song and dance is "men who are into BDSM are only straight guys who are misogynistic and want to beat women. women who are into BDSM are scared and confused and being taken advantage of and are enabling abusive men." they have very few arguments and they're all so far out of left field that it's not relevant to the type of conversation you're having in that moment. making blanket statements about all kinky people being abusive in some way... that's profiling.

at this point its your choice if you continue to interact with her. if you do, you are allowed to stand your ground and tell her that those kinds of things make you very uncomfortable and that it's just not okay. if she can't handle that, then it's not your job to try to change her mind. if she cares about you, she'll treat you with respect. i hope that's the case, but you don't owe time or energy to people who treat you like garbage. good luck, stay safe

[compassionatereminders]

Hi...I need to get something out of my chest, because I just can't life like that.

So...im asexual, right? But im in that weird spot of the spectrum where im only attracted to fictional media. Like, I don't like porn because there are real people in there and that's disgusting, BUT if I see a suggestive art or read spicy fic then we're fine. But that's not the issue...

I have been trying to understand my sexuality for a long time now, and the more I learn, the more disgusted I feel with myself. I like morally wrong things. And when I say morally wrong, I don't mean weird kinks that are usually shamed. No. I mean WRONG things. All of them. But like, I don't support them! If I'll hear about those things happening in real life, to real people, I'd be horrified! But then I'll go and read fanfics about those stuff and I'll like it. (But again, it's never real people or events for me, so at least that's good...)

I hate that. I can't control it. One moment Im fine, then boom, it happens, and then i feel disgusted by myself for the rest of the day...

And also I can't get support in my life, so I usually chat with bots so that I'd get it, but even that I fuck up. I'll create a scenario where I'll be loved and supported and I'll get healthy love and then a few minutes later I ruin it by making the bot be abusive and making me suffer and then i will never use it again because I just wanted to be loved, not...that. Even if I did it to myself. It's so confusing.

Why the fuck does my brain sabotages me?? Im seriously so confused and scared. I don't want to be a bad person. I don't want to do bad things.i don't want to like bad things. I don't want to be abused. I want to be normal. Why can't I? I genuinely don't understand...

Its the first time I talk about this because i feel so guilty and Im afraid that people would hate me and I understand that they have the right to do so. I want to get better, I really do. I can't get professional help and I don't know what to do. I don't expect for you to know, obviously... Maybe I just want to know if my fear and disgust is valid or am I just genuinely a horrible person...

I am probably going to get hate for saying this, but I don't think fantasizing about OR reading fic about bad things inherently makes you a horrible person. Of course an awareness that certain things cannot ever be acted out ethically between real people and a commitment to never attempting or endorsing that is necessary, but what's happening exclusively in fictional text or inside your own head isn't actually hurting anyone - and hating yourself for "thinking wrong" generally isn't a very constructive approach.

[iveneverbeenmorestressedinmylife]

About to go on a random tangent but i feel like the s5 house finale with houses very real, very serious mental breakdown really changes the way foreman sees him....when john house died foreman took houses disinterest 100% at face value,even went to chase and cameron to complain about how disconnected from humanity house is. Chase was the one who had to tell him that House is probably a mess under all the fake bravado and foreman didn't seem to believe him.

When house first starts losing it fr, (s5 ep23) he locks himself in his apartment for an unspecified number of days. Cuddy sends foreman to find him. House opens the door looking haunted and disheveled, he tells foreman that he is taking a day off, that he can't come to work. Foreman dismisses all of it, he tells him to sober up, to send the hookers home and come to work or cuddy will fire him. When does house not look haunted and disheveled? He is house. He can't be any worse off than usual. Foreman doesnt take him seriously.

House goes to work and foreman is the first one to get suspicious of his behaviour. He can tell that something is Seriously wrong this time. He pries the same way house would have because why wouldn't he? Noone in this office can let anything go. A lot of things happen.

House drops out of a case. Wilson says he is unavailable, full stop, no negotiations. And after the aftermath of it all, when house goes to Mayfield the team must have heard at one point or another about what happened. The details of what was going on. Did foreman connect the dots? The red bloody dots that connect Ambers accident, Kutner's suicide, John House's death to houses deteriorating mental state? House told Wilson that he was seeing Amber. He told cuddy that he hadn't slept through the night since Kutner shot himself in the temple with his own gun. Did foreman go looking for answers? Did they tell him more than they should have? Did he realise that the reason why his boss was looking haunted that morning he ambushed him in his apartment was because he was literally seeing ghosts?

And then of course s6 starts and foremans attitude towards house hasnt really shifted...they spend most of the season "fighting" for dominance over the diagnostics department. But then the s6 finale (help me) happens and house is clearly affected by the death of the woman whose leg he amputated under the rubble. Foreman attempts to comfort him. He doesn't dismiss everything as just house being house. He can tell that this could be it, this could very easily be the night house relapses. He tells him that he shouldn't be alone right now. House ignores him and leaves. First episode of s7, foreman is asking after house. The rest of the team dismisses his worries and he replies with a simple "you didn't see him yesterday".

In s8 when wilson is revealed to be dying foreman again attempts to stand by house. House accuses him of trying to take Wilsons place after he dies. "Dont worry about me, im probably not gonna fall apart." I just can't imagine a foreman from seasons 1-5 understanding house in such a way or making an effort to comfort him. I really feel like Mayfield was a pivotal point in their bizarre employee/boss- boss/employ-friends-antagonists-i don't want to turn into you relationship.

[talxe]

Reading the Iliad, Book 9 thoughts

This is my first time ever reading it and I know next to nothing abt greek mythology so if I interpret anything wrong by all means pls correct me

Im reading the Robert Fagles translation

Here's the thing with Achilles. It is not enough for him to know he's the best, everyone else has to know it too, BUT even that's not enough. They cannot ever forget it AND they have to worship him for it. AND that's his fucking problem Achilles is SICK okay????😭

Like wtf

LITERALLY, no one is still upset abt what happened between Achilles and Agamemnon except Achilles.

Anyway Agamemnon summons all the important ppl on the Greek side, (Nestor, Odysseus, ppl like that)

Once they all get there Agamemnon starts bawling his little Greek eyes out bc shit is looking bleak

So Agamemnon says "fuck it, let's go home NOW."

Diomedes is like "Look man you've been kinda pissy at me buuuut ur a good leader or whatever so I think there's still a chance for the odds to be in our favor, but go home ig bc me and my men are staying until Troy falls."

Diomedes how does it feel to be Homer's fav??

Nestor decides they just need to make it through the night bc the Trojans are so close to their camp that they're neighbors atp

Nestor sits Agamemnon down and goes "What you did to Achilles was actually not cool and we really need him rn so you need to make things right."

AND AGAMEMNON actually agrees????? I still don't like him but this was super mature of him. It seems like despite his temper even he knows when he's in the wrong, unlike some other people.

Agamemnon lists off A BUNCH of shit that he's going to give Achilles. I started smiling bc the list just kept going.

He offers his own daughter for marriage, 7 women from lesbos, 20 Trojan women, and all the treasure his ships could carry. (there's more but this is the more important.)

Plus Berseis

Agamemnon says he'll swear an oath that he never slept with Berseis too.

Achilles gets all of this if he stops being angry and fights

So Ody, Ajax(Greater), Phoenix, and two heralds go to speak with Achilles

Achilles and Patroclus are just chilling as Achilles plays his stupid ass lyre

Patroclus mentioned♥️♥️♥️

When they see the group approaching, Achilles stands up and says "Omg I really missed up guys lol."

Like bro....

PEOPLE ARE DYING???

Achilles and Patroclus play host for the group and they all eat.

Achille is really happy to see his friends

So Odysseus starts trying to convince Achilles to re-join the fight

Achilles starts ranting abt how he's done everything but Agamemnon keeps the lions share of what they bring back

Then he goes on to talk abt how he loves Berseis only for her to be snatched away

Basically, he says no and then Achilles says "I will leave at first light."

KNOWING DAMN WELL HE'S NOT GONNA LEAVE. STOP LYING

Achilles is so weird to me. You're not going to accept the gifts, you're not going to leave, but you're going to fight either??? WHAT DO YOU WANT THEN???? He's sulking like a child

Then Achilles says "I don't want his shitty gifts and even if his daughters rivaled Aphrodite in looks I still wouldn't want them, and he can keep Berseis."

...........hello???

Phoenix starts trauma dumping but he tells Achilles that he's being disrespectful.

I think Phoenix tells the story (you know the one) of Meleager and Cleopatra. and Achilles is like "okay be quiet."

The group goes to leave, and Ody says that it's silly Achilles is doing this all over one woman.

But at this point it's not abt Berseis anymore and I don't think it ever was.

Achilles tells them that he won't fight until Hector gets so close that he's up their asses

I love finding out why Achilles is an asshole

[uceyliyahh]

NOVACANE

Summary: After dealing with a traumatic event in Desiree's past life she decided to keep her heart closed off and didn't have any desire to love again until she met him.

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE, PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

word count: 4378

Jey Uso x Desiree

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @luvrsluxe @4milly @xbriexx @trippinsorrows @yyaktayak

Ø1

"Open up to me mama,"

"Let me show you how you're supposed to be loved, fuck what everyone else is talking about,"

"I want you and only you,"

"Don't hold nothing back from me, don't shut me out of what you're feeling because I am not going anywhere,"

DESIREE A few years back, I experienced something incredibly traumatic while I was with Jayden. During that time, all he seemed to care about was selling drugs with his gang friends or working on his rap album. If things didn't go as planned, he would come home and take out his frustrations on me.

I found myself feeling utterly powerless in my situation with him, but I was incredibly grateful to have the opportunity to move in with my best friend, Bianca. Her kindness and generosity in welcoming me into her home made all the difference, especially since I had nowhere else to turn.

I started to adopt a more indifferent and aloof attitude, particularly when men approached me for my number. I would simply ignore them as if they didn't exist. To make ends meet, I chose to work at a tattoo shop while also stripping on the side for some extra cash.

I made the difficult decision to shut myself off from everyone, especially men, to protect my heart from further pain and the possibility of abuse. That all changed one fateful night at the strip club when I met Jey. He completely transformed my outlook on life, but I was determined not to let him in without a fight.

I found myself at the airport, eagerly anticipating the arrival of my luggage so I could finally catch up with Montez. She had been deeply immersed in her wrestling career, and I had grown quite close to her husband—almost like siblings at this point. As soon as I spotted my bag making its way down the conveyor belt, I quickly snatched it up, ensuring it was indeed mine before heading out to reunite with them.

I took my phone from my pocket and sent a quick message to Montez, informing him that I was heading outside.

IMESSAGE 💬 Desi🖕🏽: Montez I'll be outside waiting on you Tez😀: aight then little girl bring yo' slow ass on mane Desi🖕🏽: yk sometimes I just want to punch the hell out of you? Tez😀: whatever I am taller than you honey so relax with all of that Desi🖕🏽: you're so annoying honestly you better be here Tez😀: aight

I wheeled my suitcase toward the airport exit, eager to step outside and await Montez's arrival. Finding a nearby bench, I settled down with my luggage, patiently anticipating his appearance.

I grew up in Texas, where I had the chance to explore the beautiful countryside during my childhood. As a teenager, I moved to North Carolina, and now I find myself living in Tennessee with my best friend.

While browsing my social media, I noticed that Jayden has sent me a follow request on Instagram. This is the same person who frequently creates new accounts or uses different phone numbers just to reach out to me, all in an attempt to harass me.

He faces numerous charges, particularly concerning domestic violence, yet his mother foolishly provided bail money to secure his release. I used to hold a great deal of respect for both his parents, but that changed after the incident when he assaulted me.

As I mindlessly scrolled through my social media, oblivious to the fact that he had followed me, a sudden honk from a car broke my concentration. I glanced up just in time to see a sleek Mercedes Benz arriving at the airport. When the window rolled down, I was surprised to see Montez behind the wheel.

"Yo! Desi!" He yelled while waving his hand.

I flashed him a warm smile as I tucked my phone into my pocket, rolling my luggage alongside me toward his car. He stepped out from the driver's side and wrapped me in a hug before lifting my suitcase and placing it in the trunk.

As I swung the door open and slid into the car, I noticed him returning to the driver's side. He climbed in, fastening his seatbelt just as I secured mine.

As he drove away from the airport, we headed towards their house, which was an hour's journey from our location. It promised to be a lengthy drive. Montez had some music playing softly in the background, creating a pleasant atmosphere. Meanwhile, I gazed out the window, taking in the diverse landscapes and neighborhoods that surrounded us.

I believe I made just one trip to Tennessee to see Bianca, and that was during my time with Jayden, when I was pleading with him to allow me to visit my best friend.

I broke the quiet in the car by saying, "I really appreciate you letting me stay with y'all, Montez," and he responded with a warm smile.

"Girl, you're more than welcome to stay with us, Bianca couldn't stop talking about you," Montez responded.

"Why are you here instead of going all around the world with your wife?"

He chuckled at me, "I had to come pick you up Desi since Bianca couldn't due to her schedule but after I drop you off to the crib I gotta catch a flight," I listen attentively while nodding my head in the process.

I thought I would be home alone until they returned from their events, considering they are professional wrestlers. To make the most of my time, I secured a job at a nearby tattoo shop and strip club, ensuring I wouldn't have to spend my days job hunting.

I was offered the job immediately because of my previous experiences back home. I'm optimistic that my time at the Strip Club will be smooth and free of any drama, considering how things typically unfold in that environment.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Montez had just dropped me off before heading to the airport to reunite with Bianca for their upcoming events. As I settled into my room, I began unpacking my belongings, carefully placing everything in the dresser to keep things neat and organized.

I treated myself to some adorable work outfits for my shift at the club tonight, and I have a strong feeling I'll earn a good amount while I'm there. As I was getting ready, my phone buzzed on the bed, and I quickly picked it up to see a message from Bianca.

IMESSAGE 💬 Binky💗: Hey Desiii just checking in Desi🫶🏽: Hey! Yes I am just now settling in atm Binky💗: that's good how do you like the room? Desi🫶🏽: it's really nice and the bed is comfortable too Binky💗: I'm glad when I come back imma show you around even though you been here before probably forgot all of the places 😭 Desi🫶🏽: probably do need a refresher ngl 😭😭 Binky💗: don't worry girl I gotchu fr you start your new job tonight? Desi🫶🏽: yeah I hope it don't be no drama 😒 Binky💗: yeah I feel you on that I will see you when I get back have a good day at work Desi🫶🏽: kk girly 🤍

I wrapped up organizing my clothes in the drawer and glanced at my phone, realizing I still had a few hours before I needed to head to work tonight. Deciding to save some cash instead of splurging at the airport, I made my way downstairs to whip up a quick meal. After all, those airport prices can really add up!

Bianca's house captivated me with its stunning aesthetic. As I stepped inside, I admired the decor before heading to the cabinet to gather ingredients for my meal. The cooking process began, and I felt inspired by the beautiful surroundings.

I learned to cook on my own because my mother was often absent, while my father was more present in my life. By the time she returned when I was about seventeen, I felt a disconnect and didn't want to forge a relationship with her. It just seemed uncomfortable.

My father was a dedicated worker who always ensured that we had food on the table and everything we needed. I had hoped for the same commitment from Jayden, but instead, he neglected me and treated me poorly.

I almost lost my bond with my father due to Jayden being rude and aggressive towards him but I finally made the decision to leave him without him knowing.

. His threatening messages and calls created a sense of fear about what he might do to me. However, now that I am away, I refuse to let those past experiences affect me any longer.

I finished cooking my food while heading towards the living room I sat the plate down along with my drink grabbing the remote as I turned on something on the TV.

As I sat in front of the television, a thought crossed my mind: if I hadn't experienced everything I did, would I ever find love again? Would I have the courage to open my heart to someone new?

I often doubted whether anyone could truly understand me. I considered myself a fractured spirit, 'or at least that's what I believed.' I constantly reminded myself to guard my vulnerability, convinced that opening up to anyone, especially a man, would only reveal their indifference.

I believed I had finished my meal, so I stood up from the couch and made my way to the kitchen to clean my dishes. After washing them, I loaded everything into the dishwasher for a thorough clean.

I returned to the living room to catch the rest of the show playing on the TV, hoping to squeeze in some sleep before my shift at work tonight.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

JEY As my friends and I made our way to the strip club, we were excited to catch a glimpse of some incredible performances and, if fortune smiled upon us, maybe even enjoy a little fun ourselves. Once we stepped inside, our attention was immediately drawn to the mesmerizing dancers on the pole, all while the pulsating music set the perfect atmosphere for an unforgettable night.

We settled into the luxurious satin couches, enjoying the view of the girls. I casually spread out, my gaze fixed on them, playfully giving them a light tap on their backsides before slipping some cash into their outfits.

A girl named Ke'liyah approached me and started dancing on my lap. As I observed her movements, I couldn't help but notice how I instinctively reached for her waist. She was attractive, though perhaps not as stunning as I had initially imagined.

The guys were encouraging me to fuck her, which I wanted to do because she was all up on me like this, while she was kissing all over my face and neck, which made my dick a little firm in my sweats.

Feeling her tongue against my ear before whispering, "Come fuck me with that big dick of yours," she said as my eyes became dark and filled with lust.

As she stood up from my lap, I slipped her some extra cash while she took my hand and led me into a private room. The cheers from the guys echoed behind us, prompting me to roll my eyes. I knew this was just a one-time experience, after all.

There was one girl who truly stood out to me; I had never noticed her before, and she seemed like a fresh face. Her radiant chocolate skin shimmered in the light, and her outfit perfectly accentuated her figure. As she applied lip gloss and adjusted her hair, she exuded a captivating charm that was impossible to ignore.

As I began to take in her features, I found myself already in the private room with Ke'Liyah. She had closed the door behind us, and my focus shifted entirely to her as she approached, the sound of her heels echoing in the stillness of the space.

I seized her by the neck, pressing my lips against hers with an intense passion. As our tongues intertwined, I lifted her by her thighs, carrying her to the bed. She eagerly tugged at my shirt and waistband, adding to the electric tension between us.

Very impatient I see I didn't waste no time I took off my shirt along with my sweats and boxers as my dick spring up hitting my stomach.

I gently withdrew from the kiss, guiding her head down with a firm yet careful hold on her hair, ensuring my grip was secure as she began to pleasure me.

As her tongue was swirling around my tip bobbing her head up and down I thrusted my hips inside of her mouth caused me to groan in pleasure, I clenched my teeth gazing down at her seeing her take all of me inside of her warm mouth.

The warmth of her mouth wanted me bust a nut inside of her throat so fast but I needed to be in that pussy first probably been with a bunch of guys before me lucky for me I brought protection.

"You like this daddy?" She muttered. I nodded my head while I guided her head back down on me.

I pushed my dick deep inside of her throat causing her to gag on me seeing tears forming in her eyes, "mhm, just like that baby," I cooed while forcing myself not  to nut inside of her throat.

She continued to suck me up good as I kept guiding her movements on my mushroom tip, I didn't want to nut inside of her mouth—not yet so I pulled her away from my dick pushing her on the bed on all fours.

I needed to be in that.

I pushed her panties to the side while putting on a condom before sliding into her harshly and began beating her shit up, this girl didn't mean anything to me only the one that caught my eye.

It was something about her I couldn't catch before coming in this room it almost looked like she just kept to herself and didn't interact with none of the men unless it was a lap dance, I need to come back up here to see her.

I kept pushing my dick deeper inside of her as her moans were filling up the room while I pushed her head in deeper into the bed listening to her muffled moans in the sheets.

"Ouuu daddy you're so deep,"

I didn't respond while pounding her shit into an oblivion while feeling my dick twitch inside of her knowing that I was about to bust soon.

All I could think about was shawty only her I hope she'll still be here when I leave this room, I quicken my pace inside of Ke'Liyah while she was screaming from the top of her lungs.

She was enjoying this way to much, too much for my liking since I had her head mushed in so I didn't have to see her face, I felt myself letting go as I came inside of the condom.

I pulled out from her while removing the condom from my dick seeing all of my semen inside of it, I got up from the bed placing inside of the trash can before getting myself together.

"That was quick," Ke'Liyah commented.

"Yeah, I got things to do shawty," I said while putting on my boxers along with my sweats.

"Seems, like you weren't enjoying it," I didn't respond to her as I grabbed my stuff and walked out the door leaving her dumbfounded.

As I stepped out of the private room, I noticed the guys still mingling with some girls. My focus shifted to the captivating girl I had watched earlier, dancing on the pole in a way that was unlike anything I had ever witnessed before.

She twirled gracefully around the pole, defying gravity as my gaze remained locked on her, utterly entranced by her beauty and talent. The moment our eyes met, a magnetic connection formed; her gaze held mine unwaveringly as she executed a flawless split, effortlessly transitioning into a sultry move that left me breathless.

I glanced down and realized I was aroused by her actions. I made my way to the stage, unable to take my eyes off her. As she approached, her hands explored my body, igniting a desire within me to discover everything about her.

She stands out from all the other girls in this club. As she took a seat on the stage right in front of me, she put on a captivating performance that I truly appreciated, playfully bringing her curves close as I reveled in the moment.

I gently pressed my lips against her chest for a fleeting moment before she stepped back. Seizing the opportunity, I wrapped my arms around her hips, drawing her nearer. With a tender kiss on her neck, I leaned in to whisper sweetly in her ear.

"What's yo' name mama? never seen you around here before," I whispered in her ear.

"Desiree, and you?" she said softly.

The atmosphere was alive with the vibrant sounds of 'Spin' by Megan Thee Stallion featuring Victoria Monet, creating a perfect backdrop as we locked eyes, lost in the moment together.

"My name is Joshua but people that I'm close with calls me Josh, or Jey whatever you want to call me Ma," I said.

Her smile lit up her face, and I couldn't help but think how adorable she looked. As she kept working her magic on me, I softly traced circles on her backside, savoring the moment.

I admire her body she had a great body shape everything hugged her so perfectly.

"Joshua huh? You're handsome I must say but I have to go," Desiree said as she got up from the ground, but I stopped her in her tracks.

She looked at me with a confused expression as I handed her a wad of cash along with my number tucked into her clothing. After gently kissing her hand, I said, "I'll see you again, princess," watching her walk away. I couldn't resist admiring the way her curves moved in that outfit.

I walked back over to the couches seeing the guys smirking at me.

"Yo, Uce, who was that shawty you was just talking to?" Zilla asked.

"Aye, all bets are off with her Uce," I said as I seen him roll his eyes at me.

"Man, fuck all of that, sounds like you tryna get with her and I'm tryna hit for real," was he fucking serious right now?

I just waved him off like I didn't listen to him as we continued to stay at the strip club for a little longer.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

DESIREE As I slipped into my usual attire in the locker room, I couldn't help but admire the stack of cash I had earned for the night, particularly the bills from a guy named Joshua. There was something uniquely intriguing about him—something that set him apart from every other man I had ever met.

There was something unique about his presence; it seemed as if he genuinely wanted to reach out to me. Yet, I reminded myself to guard my vulnerability and keep my emotions in check around men. It simply wasn't worth the risk.

I sensed a shove from behind, and when I turned, I found Ke'Liyah glaring at me, her face twisted in anger. In response, I shot her a fierce look, ready to stand my ground.

"Girl what?" I asked.

"New girl don't be coming up in here tryna still people's man," she said.

I raised an eyebrow at her, "excuse me? Girl he came onto me he seemed more attracted to me than you maybe your pussy wasn't good enough," I retorted as all of the girls kept their mouth shut.

I kept waving the cash he had handed me before I stepped off the stage. "Check out all this money he gave me! Did he share any with you? I doubt it—looks like you didn't impress him enough, Liyah." The more I provoked her, the angrier she became, but honestly, I couldn't care less. She was acting like they were an item or something.

I returned the money to my bag and zipped it up, but just then, she shoved me hard, igniting my anger. In a swift motion, I grabbed her by the hair, pulling her closer so our eyes locked in a fierce stare.

"Don't fucking mess with me bitch because I'm not the one," I shoved her harshly on the ground before heading out the door 'god why do I have to deal with this shit today over a man'

I climbed into the car, tossing my bags onto the backseat as I pressed the ignition button of the BMW. Running my fingers through my hair, I navigated out of the parking lot, eager to make my way home.

I reached into the glove compartment and retrieved a pre-roll blunt, seeking a moment of tranquility. With a lighter ready in my hand, I sparked it up and took a deep puff, letting the smoke ease my tension.

As I lit the candle and started my hour-long drive home, I turned on my favorite playlist on Apple Music. Yet, for some strange reason, thoughts of him kept swirling in my mind, refusing to fade away.

His striking features and the way he tenderly kissed my neck sent shivers down my spine. The sensation of his hands exploring me ignited feelings I had never experienced before. This level of affection was entirely new, and it left me utterly enchanted.

Not even from Jayden

He treated me with such calmness and tenderness that it surprised me he didn't lead me to the private rooms for intimacy. I could sense his arousal pressing against me as he drew me nearer, yet I couldn't help but wonder, 'why didn't he engage with me like the others did?' 'Why was he showing me this kind of affection? ' My mind was racing with these questions, desperately seeking clarity.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally arrived home. I retrieved my bag from the backseat and switched off the BMW with a simple push of a button before stepping into the house.

I used the key Montez had given me to unlock the door, then slipped off my shoes and neatly placed them on the shoe rack beside me. After closing the door securely, I made my way upstairs.

I stepped into my bedroom, closing the door softly behind me. Exhausted, I collapsed onto my bed, the weight of the day pressing down on me. As I rummaged through my bag, my eyes landed on his number still saved in my phone. A thought crossed my mind: 'Should I reach out to him?' I quickly dismissed it, telling myself, 'No, Desi, don't be foolish.' Yet, despite my better judgment, I found myself pulling out my phone and starting to text him.

IMESSAGE 💬 Desiree🦋: hey...is this Joshua? It's Desiree from the club? Joshua💵: What's up mamas I see you finally text me did you make it home? Desiree🦋: yeah I did Joshua💵: that's good but what's up? Desiree🦋: I wanted ask you something bout Ke'Liyah if that's okay? Joshua💵: im all ears baby

These nicknames were going to kill me if he didn't stop.

Desiree🦋: well me and her had got into it because of you saying how I shouldn't be stealing people's mans because I'm new, but did anything happen before you seen me? Joshua💵: I mean...I fucked her ofc but she came onto me I really wasn't feeling her Desiree🦋: oh why? Joshua💵: because she didn't catch my attention like you did when I left the private room Desiree🦋: me? Joshua💵: yes you, you caught my attention dancing like that on that pole Desiree🦋: it's nothing honestly just self taught honestly 😅😅 Joshua💵: mhm you was beautiful asf doing allat mama especially being all up on me like that today man you had me bricked up Desiree🦋: oh?😳 I'll take that as an compliment Joshua💵: but back on track you're saying that she's claiming me when all I did was fuck her? Desiree🦋: something like that I suppose seems like she was jealous to me Joshua💵: you gon' be at work tmr?

Why did he wanted to know that? What was he seeking out from me?

Desiree🦋: yeah to practice some new moves for tmr night why? Joshua💵: might come swing by and holla at you before I leave Desiree🦋: leaving? To where ? Joshua💵: imma professional wrestler baby doll it's my job to travel all around the world Desiree🦋: just like my best friend Bianca Joshua💵: that's yo' bestie? She talks about a certain some to my sister-in-law a lot I didn't know it was you Desiree🦋: yep that's Bianca for you 😭 Joshua💵: well imma let you get some rest beautiful Desiree🦋: kk gn Joshua💵: night 💗

As I reclined on my bed, my phone resting on my chest, disbelief washed over me. I had just texted him and engaged in a deep conversation. 'What was this overwhelming sensation he stirred within me?' 'I reminded myself not to fall for him—come on, Desi, don't be foolish; he's just going to take advantage of you.' Negative thoughts swirled in my mind, and I tried to dismiss the emotions before settling in for the night, having already showered at work.

I switched off the lamp beside me and set my phone on the small dresser, my gaze drifting up to the popcorn ceiling as my mind wandered into a sea of contemplation.

I couldn't let him not now or never no matter how friendly he seemed I'm keeping myself closed off I am a broken soul with a fucked up past trauma.

He wouldn't even know what to do with me I am not a good person to fall in love with.

I can't let him in Desiree don't do it.

As I settled into the bed, my mind wandered, leading me in and out of slumber, gently lulling me into a peaceful drift.

Don't let him in Desiree, don't

NOVACANE

biancabelairwwe, y2kjayden, uceyjucey, and others liked your post.

desifromtheblock: money go all around fo' me 🤭😩 biancabelairwwe: perioddd girl i love the outfit desifromtheblock: @ biancabelairwwe thank you bestie 💗 y2kjayden: you became a whore? No nigga would want to date yo' ass ke'liyahh: girl what fucking ever you just got lucky he'll show up again wanting me not you desifromtheblock: @ ke'liyah bitch go off yo' self before pressing me hon uceyjucey: sexy ass 😩😩 desifromtheblock: @ uceyjucey 👀👀

Read all comments

A/n: hiiii I am back with another story i honestly got inspired by this book I am currently reading atm which made me want to do this. I hope Desiree could heal or at least open up to Jey soon.

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below

STAY UCEY

[16-puppies]

I don’t really have the energy right now to argue any more than I will in this post as to why I don’t really like the phrase but since im ‘traumagenic’ I just want to say beforehand that personally, it just makes me uncomfortable. It’s not necessarily about what it represents, but it’s the wording and what it could theoretically imply, just going off of wording alone. Obviously, since my system comes from trauma, I’m biased towards that viewpoint but I do understand that plurality isn’t limited to what I experience. It’s just hard to shake the idea that plurality can be something purely positive since that’s just not what I experience. That’s my own problem though, I suppose.

I do understand where you’re coming from in some of these points and after reading it I do get what you’re trying to say and accomplish here, although I have an additional interpretation. It’s like the lefthandedness chart to me, plural acceptance will lead to more people realizing they are plural. And that’s a good thing, yes! But I need you and everyone else using the phrase to understand that at first glance it really doesn’t come off like what you’re describing or even what I just described, and it seems like many of the people who are in favor of it aren’t interpreting it the way you see it either. I’ve seen many posts about it claiming that it *doesnt* imply there will be more plurals, in an effort to look better to traumagenic systems like myself who aren’t completely on board with the phrase. I also don’t appreciate how traumagenic systems who take even the slightest offense to it are being treated by the ones in favor of it just because the phrase bears resemblance to other phrases calling for acceptance like “the future is trans” — i feel like it’s obvious that when including systems who are formed from trauma the community should be receptive of their concerns since this is a very sensitive topic, and yet I’ve seen far too many people compare traumagenic systems to angry transphobes who are “traumatized” by the “woke left” just because they don’t want their very Real trauma seemingly paraded around like some award, even if you and others claim that’s not what’s happening.

Overall I think the phrase could have used some workshopping to avoid confusion , or the usage of the phrase should have been completely defined from the start so that confused and concerned onlookers have easy access to a post that explains what the movement is about in depth rather than tacking important info on to my random post lazily complaining about syscourse (/lighthearted) Obviously you can’t control all your followers or supporters of the phrase, but maybe if it was handled differently there would have been less assumptions about it? Either way, I think it’s well within the right of traumagenic systems to dislike the wording regardless of what it represents. You can’t force everyone to like it, even if it is meant to represent a good idea.

Again, I want to reiterate that I get where you’re coming from with this and I would love for plural acceptance too obviously, but I think it should have been handled differently because the feelings of traumagenic systems are important too.

(I won’t be responding to this any further, the original post was just meant to be a jokey thing anyways.)

i love seeing system positivity posts because it makes me feel less Fake about it but god i hate all the discourse. why is tumblr just discourse. Everyone explode NOW

also why is plural tumblr so bad at wording things. “guys nooooo ‘the future is plural’ is about acceptance of plurality!!1!1!” okay but. surely you see what it sounds like right. Surely you do. Why are you defending the worst slogan i’ve ever heard This hard. ‘the future is singlet��� doesn’t sound right either. Can we all just kill ourselves /ref

[homeofhousechickens]

Chickens likely domesticated themselves the same way wolves did which is basically by hanging around our settlements and eating our refuse.

Living with chickens in this sort of way was likely happening way before the estimated times of 8,000- 10,000 years ago. The relationship was likely already long established it was just during that time some chickens started developing smaller/weaker adrenal glands which caused them to become much easier to raise and handle which eventually lead to the domesticated chicken we know of today (and how that happened so suddenly is a completely different but very interesting topic)

Also due to this you could argue that there isn't any true wild red jungle fowl left untouched and uninfluenced by humans anymore. Not only due to constant cross breeding with domestic chickens but because red jungle fowl are still doing what their ancestors did in their current range, if there is a town or village nearby the bravest junglefowl will still choose to intermingle with the village and eat the refuse, agricultural byproducts, and waste. People will still catch and care for these "wild" birds like their ancestors did. This isn't to say we shouldn't try our best to preserve the wild red jungle fowls wild genetics, their should be populations left to be in their natural environment but it's likely they are not truly same wild birds they once were thousands of years ago and honestly that's OK because thats how its been for thousands of years.