#what if I did a story? I have an idea of what the fall would be like. hint: these virtues cherubs flip. anyone want that? let me know.

[nickel156]

“I was in everyone’s minds to protect Velaris”

Come again?? No really, I just learned how to read yesterday..

Rhysand’s excuse for not taking down Amarantha—that he was too busy monitoring everyone’s minds to keep Velaris a secret—starts to fall apart when you consider that Velaris was already hidden. No one knew it existed. Velaris wasn’t on anyone’s radar. The city had been hidden for centuries, and there’s no evidence that Amarantha, or anyone else for that matter, even suspected its existence. So, why would Rhysand need to constantly be in people’s minds, draining his power, to protect a city no one knew about? It doesn’t add up.

This raises the question: Was Rhysand lying? Was he manipulating Feyre by feeding her this story to justify his inaction under Amarantha’s rule? He paints this picture of himself as this self-sacrificing hero, always making hard choices for the greater good, but when you break it down, his excuse is flimsy. If Velaris was truly hidden, then his powers wouldn’t have needed to be spread so thin. Even diminished by Amarantha. He should’ve had the strength to act against her much sooner, (he implies) but instead, he fed Feyre this narrative to make her believe that his hands were tied. It conveniently shifts the blame away from him and positions him as this misunderstood figure who was doing everything he could to protect what mattered most.

Then there’s the whole “Most powerful High Lord in history” line. Who else is saying this about him? No one. It’s something Rhysand repeatedly tells Feyre, almost like he’s reinforcing this idea of his invincibility in her mind. But if he’s truly the most powerful, why did he struggle so much under Amarantha’s rule? Why did he need Feyre’s help to take down Hybern later on if he’s supposed to be the most powerful High Lord ever? It feels like Rhysand is using this title as a tool to manipulate Feyre into seeing him as infallible. By constantly reminding her (and the reader) of his power, he makes sure that any weakness or questionable action he takes is easily forgiven or explained away. It’s like he’s setting up this narrative where he’s always the strongest, the most capable, even when his actions suggest otherwise.

So, was Rhysand’s whole “I’m in everyone’s minds to protect Velaris” a lie? A form of manipulation to make Feyre trust him? Or was it just poor writing that didn’t consider the full implications of Velaris being a secret city? It’s hard to say for sure, but either way, it casts serious doubt on his narrative. The more you look at it, the more it feels like Rhysand was playing Feyre, feeding her just enough information to make himself look like the hero while glossing over the inconsistencies in his story.

Ultimately, it makes you wonder if his claim to being the most powerful High Lord was less about truth and more about control—control over the narrative, control over Feyre’s perception of him, and control over the way he’s seen by everyone else. And honestly, it’s starting to look a lot more like manipulation than anything else.

[jesncin]

The Potential of Asian Lois Lane: An extra addition

A bonus addition to my Asian Lois essay. I know Lois Chaudhari isn't technically a Lois since the premise of the comic she's from is where the Superman mythos is fictional and the characters in it happen to be named Clark/Lois etc. But since she's a Lois stand in and romantic partner to the Clark Kent of that story, I figured she deserves an honorable mention at least.

Here's where I position her in my Spectrum of Asian Lois Lane chart. And I'd like to talk about her!

Compared to American Alien, this Lois is actually specific and textually Indian in Superman: Secret Identity. Unlike American Alien Lois (that never specified what kind of Asian Lois was), she can't be replaced as a white woman because the text acknowledges her Indian identity (her name, lines of dialogue like this, etc.) hence she's not interchangeable with whiteness. So this take has that going for it.

Where Lois Chaudhari still falls behind Girl Taking Over (and what it shares in common with American Alien) is yet again a sense of missed opportunities narratively.

In Superman: Secret Identity, a man named Clark Kent from Picketsville suddenly has Superman's powers. After years of being made fun of for his namesake, he suddenly is what everyone has been making fun of him for- and as he lives through life he slowly understands why fictional!Superman is the way he is. It's a great story but where it misses the mark for me is its failure to recognize Superman as an immigrant. Secret Identity's Clark isn't an alien immigrant, or a human immigrant, and is instead ostracized because of his name. Government baddies want to do experiments on him so he has to hide from them too. But then he meets city girl Lois Chaudhari, and they connect because people keep teasing them for their names and Lois knows what it's like to keep secrets because she,,, committed a crime as a teen once.

"I guess we're both dangerous felons, then. Public menaces."

Being hunted by the government and being experimented on isn't really the same as being caught shoplifting.

It works well enough as a connection but to me is a huge missed opportunity to have an Indian American relate to your Superman stand-in as an immigrant. To connect on a deeper level other than "people make fun of us for sharing names with fictional characters". Later in the story, Clark and Lois have twin daughters who are visibly Indian. They too, have Superman's powers. While we're treated extensively to the narrative showing us why Clark would hide his powers from the government wishing to seek harm on him, we never get to see what Clark's daughters have to deal with on top of being visibly non-white.

Superman as an alien immigrant is an anecdote in this story. Because after all, that's not what a white American man from Picketsville would find relatable about him, is it? I have the same thing to say about Secret Identity that I did with American Alien: "Clark isn’t the only American Alien in American Alien, if you catch my drift."

I think this story is the perfect encapsulation of the limits of a white writer. One of my hottest takes on Superman is that the best and most holistic take on his character doesn't exist in the white imagination. Take a look once more at the Spectrum of Asian Lois Lanes chart that I made. All save for Girl Taking Over were headed by white men (MAWS may have Asian directors and writers on their team but ultimately its pitch and main ideas are the brain child of Jake Wyatt, a white man).

People have taken issue with me saying this and assume that I mean white people can't write a good Superman story, and no. That's not what I'm saying. I like Superman: Secret Identity. I even like American Alien. But it's been 80 years of predominantly white writers of all backgrounds getting the chance to write Superman- and already multiple attempts at an Asian Lois- and yet it took until Gene Yang (and artists Gurihiru) with Smashes the Klan and Sarah Kuhn (and artist Arielle Jovellanos) with Girl Taking Over that I felt Superman's themes as an immigrant finally took center stage and weren't just a mention or anecdote.

In no way do I want to imply that getting writers of color or Asian writers specifically will mean you'll be guaranteed a great Superman story. I'm against promoting the idea that diverse talent is infallible or tokenizing and essentializing them in such a way. What I am saying is that the best and most holistic story on Superman as an alien immigrant isn't even a goal in the white imagination. Immigrant Superman doesn't live in that mind. He doesn't pay rent there. He doesn't stop by to visit. And no, Superman creators Shuster and Siegel wouldn't have written that story either. Superman may have been the "Champion of the Oppressed" from another planet under their pen, but he would never have related to or have had immigrant solidarity with America's perpetual foreigners the way Smashes the Klan portrayed him as having. Superman's creators were too busy writing Slam Bradley to be able to write that kind of Superman.

The appeal of these cape characters for me, is the process of adaptation. Seeing them be handed off to someone else with different life experience. Seeing them bring a whole new perspective that surpasses even the creator's intentions on their character. That's what makes these characters rich and worthy of constant revisits. I just think that people of different backgrounds should be able to get as many chances as white men have with writing Superman and his cast of characters.

[a-blog-for-venting-i-guess]

Transformers One Bucks fanfic tropes and I love it

Spoilers below

I’m just gonna call them Megatron and Optimus for this even when I’m referring to pre transformation times.

So as a fan of the Megatron and Optimus Prime ship, I have read many many pre breakup/no breakup stories. A consistent aspect of them is Megatron being the revolutionary while Optimus is a champion of working within the system. And while those stories are fine, even great, a lot of the time it feels like Meg’s legit issues with the government were getting ignored by focusing on the “you protested in the wrong way,” sort of stuff that then radicalized him. Or megs would just use those grievances to get power and then not actually want to fix the system, he just wanted to be in charge.

I also thought this sometimes did a disservice to Optimus. Portraying him as so by the book he’s naive to the problems within cyberton so Megs has to show him the light and such. And then when Optimus does turn around he’s gotta calm Meg’s violent tendencies. Be the calm voice of reason.

So in comes Transformers One. And it’s OPTIMUS who is questioning how things work. Maybe not directly, but he’s constantly either breaking actual rules or just social norms to get what he wants. A better cybertron for all. When the truth is revealed he’s the one being like “I knew something was off.” Even when the truth is revealed Optimus is focused on fixing things because that was always what he wanted in his heart. That desire drives him to be reckless.

Meanwhile Megatron is the by the books guy. Seeing the system and its rules as a sort of lifeline he clings to whenever Optimus drags him on another stupid adventure that gets them in trouble. I think deep down he wanted the same things as Optimus but thought he could get them by following the rules. It was also a narrower scope. He wanted things better for them. Wanted a better life for himself.

When the truth is revealed he loses that safety net, He loses everything he’s ever believed in and he doesn’t know how to fix things. There’s no rule book for him to fall back on because the rules were BS and actively used to keep him down. He doesn’t trust that showing everyone the truth will cause them to turn on sentinel because all that happened to him when he learned the truth was becoming jaded+a desire for vengance. Which is why he thinks in order to move on Sentinel has to die. And this belief is solidified when he meets the elite guard with their ideology of the strongest one leads.

Optimus has to try to play the voice of reason for the first time in their friendship because of Meg’s reaction to the truth, and he sucks at it. Megs could never actually talk Optimus down from his schemes, and Optimus would always be the one making choices/leading the charge for what do to in their friendship. Now that Megatron is making up his own reckless (to put it mildly) decisions, Optimus has no idea how to actually successfully talk down Megs.

All of this leads to the tragic of tragic breakups.

Two people that cared about each other, wanted the same thing, but had drastically different ways of achieving that. And that difference tore them apart.

This is the basic story of Optimus and Megatron when they’re friends first. And for the first time it feels like the falling out happened without either of them being an idiot, or some misunderstanding. It was just how they naturally developed over the course of the story.

God I love this movie.

[chaosduckies]

Congratulations on 100 Followers!!! Big achievement!!!!

Gonna take you up on your open commissions so I’d love to see your take on a tiny being forced to ask a giant for help.

Your choice of characters but I’m a sucker for hurt comfort so go wild ❤️

Congrats again!!!

Thank you! :D

I'm sorry that this took so long to get out! I was having a minor writing slump but I'm back at it! I did have a lot of fun writing this and I hope you do to! (classic borrower asking a human for help)

Word Count: 4.2k

CW: Minor blood

Snow Fall

———Forest———

Everything was going great. I set off on my own, leaving my parents behind and starting my new life. Of course I was scared. Who wouldn’t be when you were two inches tall and leaving everyone you know and love? It was terrifying, but I had to. Borrower children, even though some were some-what good at borrowing from humans, were supposed to leave their parents as soon as they turned fourteen since it was a liability for their parents. I was just lucky and extended my stay for 3 more years. What could I say? I loved my parents just as much as they loved me, and no matter how many times my mom pleaded for me to stay, I knew I wasn’t that good at borrowing. I would eventually get us all in trouble. Which was why I decided to find a new home when I turned seventeen. It didn’t sit right with me that I was still leeching off my parents. 

Humans were scary. The horror stories, the pets, the kids. Almost everything about them scared me half to death. Just thinking about getting caught in one of those huge hands has me shuddering. I couldn’t think about myself getting caught, or what would happen to me, and to be honest, leaving my parents was the worst decision of my life. 

I wasn’t a good borrower to say in the least. I could barely hurdle over the counters without somehow hurting myself or becoming so sore the next day that I could barely move, I wasn’t the best at hiding. I had no idea how my parents did this at such a young age, but I wasn’t like them at all. How did they end up with such a failure like me? I laughed at the thought. 

My new home was nice. The human here had a schedule that I could work around. They left for work every morning, giving me plenty of time to get a little bit of food that they leave out sometimes, get some other things, and head back. They weren’t very observant of anything in particular, perfect for grabbing a few extra paperclips since my hook usually breaks from my own misuse. This house was perfect… or so I thought. 

After a while, the person stopped laying out food everywhere, they had started packing up their things in huge boxes, people in strange uniforms came by and dragged out anything heavy. I had no idea what was going on, but it wasn’t good. I stayed hidden in my home in the walls, scared of what was happening. I was too scared to go out at night and get my daily necessities, like food and water. Humans were terrifying. If I was seen by even one of them, who knows what might happen? I didn’t care if I was so hungry that my stomach was digesting itself, there was no way I was going to get caught and placed in some weird science lab. Testing me everyday, killing me slowly. I shuddered at the thought, wrapping myself in the thin cloth I managed to snag before any of this moving was happening. 

Lately the seasons have been changing, and the human that I thought was still living here hasn’t bothered to turn on the heater. This only made things a million times worse for me. I was already hungry, practically starving from not having eaten anything for the past three days, and now it was freezing cold. There was nothing I could do about it though. I was terrified. Scared. Too paranoid about what would happen if I stepped outside the comforts of my dingy home in the walls. No matter how much I wanted to go back with my parents, I couldn’t. More because I barely even remember the way back home, but also because it was already dangerous enough getting to this new home. I had no choice but to stay here in hopes that I could get over this fear of being seen and that the human had left some kind of food out. But there was no such luck. The house was empty. Furniture moved, heater off, no sign of food in the cabinets. Just nothing. My hope diminished as I sluggishly walked back home in defeat. There was no way I was going to survive. 

The human that I found so easy to maneuver around without being seen, that left food out, was now gone. Who knew when another one would just move back in? Most days I would walk around out in the open because there was nothing to do. I mean, without a human there was no chance of me surviving. I was too afraid to go outside because I knew there were animals that wouldn’t hesitate to mistake me for food. So staying inside was really my only option. Plus, it was just the slightest bit warmer here than outside. 

Sometimes I’d go sit on the windowsill, stay there for hours watching these tiny white balls fall from the sky and cover the ground. People passed by wearing thick coats that protected them from the harsh cold, and I couldn’t help but feel jealous. I looked back at the thin piece of cloth wrapped around me, barely giving any warmth while humans were able to be so warm, get food without having to worry about anyone seeing them (or in my case get food at all), heck, they weren’t even scared of anything. 

I sat alone, in a quiet house just waiting for anything to happen. I didn’t care if it was good or bad. I didn’t know how I was surviving for so long, nor how I was still moving despite searching the top shelves and countertops desperately for something. But of course it was always the same way it was. Empty. Nothing was changing, but in a bad way. 

My legs were sore from the amount of climbing I’ve done the past few days, my body was getting even weaker than it already was. I guess I really was going to starve to death, huh? All of that talking with my parents about making sure I would have enough to last me and it’s just wasted. How was I supposed to know that only a week after I found a new livable home that the human I was just barely getting used to was going to move out? Life wasn’t fair. 

Today was yet another sad, depressing day. I dragged myself along the floor, trying to at least be active while I was struggling to survive. Would another human be coming here soon? As much as they scared me and borrowers alike, most relied on them to help us survive. When they’re clumsy and forget easily, it’s easy to “borrow” a few things here and there. They leave food out or there’s an easy way to get into a cabinet, we can take a few things they wouldn’t notice. It was almost impossible to live without relying on a human in some way. Ironic how the thing I fear the most was the thing that was keeping me alive. 

I hoisted myself up onto the windowsill, breathing heavily as soon as I was safely up. I groaned in pain, wrapping up my hook and sitting by the window, once again staring at the white scenery. Other houses just across that had a slight smoke coming from the top of their house. Must be warm… I rubbed my arms, watching as a few people walked by, possibly on their way to work. I shivered, regretting not taking my “blanket.” 

Life wasn’t fair. I knew that much, but I forced myself to stay alive for whatever reason. My figure was getting slimmer from the lack of food, but I somehow kept moving. It was cold, but I gathered up any cloth I could find and wrapped myself up at night. My hook looked like it could break at any point in time, but it was hanging on just like me. If my hook did break, then there was basically no way for me to get anywhere but home and on the floor. I hoped that something would happen one day, but nothing ever did. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught something gray scurry along the floor. I stared for a couple long seconds before shrugging it off and continuing to look out the window. It was probably just my imagination. Great, now I’m hallucinating. I sighed, watching as cars carefully passed by. 

I don’t know how long I stayed on top of the windowsill, but eventually there was a change of scenery. At first I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but there it was. A car parked right in front of the house, headlights turning off and revealing a human, zipping up their jacket and looking down at something and back at the front of the house. I was too caught up in my fascination to realize that I was out in the open. The human slowly started making their way up to the front door, holding something that looked silver in their hands. 

I scrambled for my hook, climbing down as fast as I could, which was very painful. At some point I lost my grip and fell, but to my luck it was only a couple feet. I hurried to my feet, pulling my hook from the ledge it was dangling from and ran as fast as I could to reach the extremely tiny hole I squeezed myself through. I took a few seconds to catch my breath before the front door opened. My eyes were wide, my heart pounding fast. Would my luck finally be turning around? 

The human was taller than the last and looked much younger. I couldn’t really get a good look at their face, but I could make out his dirty-blonde hair. I could hear my own heartbeat. Is everything going to go back to normal? Would I be able to survive on my own again? 

The human moved around the place, shivering and pressing some buttons on something. Soon enough, the house was slowly but surely being warmed up. I let out a quiet sigh of relief. It might not be much… but at least it was something. Better than the frigid cold that had been filling the house for who knows how long. 

They moved around the house, checking everything out and smiling, their eyes a nice shade of light-brown. They looked… so nice. For a split second my mind wondered what would happen if he would ever see me. Would he keep me as a pet like I’m pretty sure most humans would? Or… nothing? No, why would I even be thinking about that? He would obviously want to hurt me even more than I already was. 

My stomach rumbled quietly, I winced, but confused to watch as they came from outside and back in, carrying a few boxes, bags and a small case that had wheels on it. Was I finally… saved? If this human was moving back in then I could actually have a chance to survive? I silently cheered to myself. How long has it been? Almost a week maybe? How did I even manage to stay alive? Didn’t matter anymore I guess. 

I continued to watch the human, putting up things in the boxes, setting up a few mini tables and placing picture frames of him and, who I was guessing, his parents. Of course occasionally taking breaks for a snack or two, leaving a plastic container filled with what looked like fresh fruit and vegetables. After most of the boxes were unpacked, a few still in their bedroom, he went back outside, most likely to fetch something else from his car. He usually took a while out there… so maybe it would be enough time to go and quickly grab something to eat? No, that was too risky. What if I was wrong and he came back early? I doubt I’d have enough time to find a hiding spot while out in the open since he didn’t exactly have any furniture or anything. 

I slumped, making my way back to my bland home in the walls. I had always tried to decorate… but since there hadn’t been anyone living here for me to “borrow” a few things from, I haven’t been able to decorate. Only the small bed I made by gathering up a bunch of cloth that the human before had forgotten about. It wasn’t extremely comfy, but better than anything I could’ve asked for. Otherwise, boring room. But it’s not like I need to decorate it anyways. Surviving was my main focus right now, and now that there was someone actually living here now… maybe I’d have a chance to get back into things. 

The wait was long, hearing the human talk to someone on what I think they call a phone, hang up, set up their house again and spend most of their time gathering up all of the blankets and pillows that he had brought with him and gathering them all up in what I think was going to be his room. As comfy as it looked, I knew I couldn’t just take a couple of minutes to get somewhat comfortable. Lately every night has been spent cold, hungry, filled with false hope. If I could just take a couple minutes to have some kind of sense of safety and security, that would be great. But I haven’t been able to, and I doubt that I’d be able to even now. I never realized just how hard it is to survive. Imagine what my parents went through while taking care of me… 

I hugged my blanket close, my eyelids threatening to close at any second. I heard the sound of the door open once again, and the loud sounds of him dragging something across the floor. It was all fine for me though. My eyes shut close, I laid down, and soon enough my mind drifted off. 

——————

When my eyes opened, there was a quiet noise of people talking outside. My heart had skipped a beat, thinking that there were more humans living here. That would make it impossible for someone like me to get past without being noticed, but as I groggily stepped outside, rubbing my eyes to wipe away the sleep, I realized that it was only the tv that wasn’t there a couple hours ago. 

I looked around the dark room, seeing that there was now a singular couch in what was the living room, a tv, a table that held two more frames. How long had I been sleeping? Or better yet, just how exhausted was I? Obviously the sun had already set, so I guess it didn’t really matter. I headed back to my room, grabbed my hook, and took off, every now and then finding a hiding spot just in case the human was somewhere I couldn’t see him. 

My head turned towards a dark shadow scamper right across from me, but I didn’t pay any mind. Probably just my imagination, right? Right now I was just trying to make sure that the human was asleep right now just before I go and see if he had any food out… or at least something edible in the cabinets. 

I checked the living room first, hiding by one of the legs under the couch, peaking my head out just enough to see him having trouble keeping his eyes open. Good enough for me. I ran quietly back to the kitchen, throwing my hook as far up as I could before testing if it was safely secure. I started my trek up, my arms and legs begging in me to go back down. Despite my arms threatening to tear off from the lack of strength. I really wasn’t good at borrowing. 

As soon as I reached the top of the counter, I took a few seconds to catch my breath. Once I get used to the human’s schedule I may finally be able to get back into things. No going hungry for that long, not worrying if I’ll make it to the end of the night. as soon as he turns on the heater things would be even better… I wouldn’t be shivering at night and struggle to find something that would act as a blanket. Yet another reason to be jewels of humans. They had everything borrowers didn’t. It wasn’t at all fair, but we all knew what would happen if a human found or saw us. The thought was pure torture to even think about. Literally. 

On the counter, there really wasn’t anything for me to see except for the half-eaten sandwich just lying on the counter. I silently walked over, not really wanting to eat part of the sandwich that they had already bitten into but I had to unless I wanted him to already be suspicious when it hasn’t even been a full day. 

I started cutting off pieces, making them fit inside my bag and taking a few more unnoticeable pieces for tomorrow, learning from past mistakes. As I was cutting, I realized that there was something off. The tv was still on in the other room, I figured that the human still hadn’t left the couch either, fighting off sleep. So why did it feel so off? I treaded carefully, watching every tiny movement that caught my eye. For a moment it was so quiet that I could hear my own heart pounding in my chest, and then too quiet. 

My eyes searched around, taking my final piece into my hands since no more would fit in my bag. I might as well grab as much as I could. Better than having nothing. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that I wasn’t dead, that I’d at least have some kind of way to survive. Out of curiosity, I took a small bite out of the sandwich, only really getting the bread part but it tasted so good. To be honest, a sandwich was a definite score for borrowers, now when you’ve been starving for days on end, it tastes amazing. 

Two glasses hit each other behind me, I turned my head seeing them spin before returning to their still pose. My eyes widened, hurrying to my hook that was still hanging off the edge of the counter. I looked back, the light making it easier to see a rat chase me down, easily twice my size. I let out a yelp as I ran through several spice glasses in hopes of losing it, only to hear them all fall onto the counter with a loud thud! That was bad for two reasons, one because not only was it making a mess and trails that I’ve been here, and two, because I knew the human would want to come and investigate what was happening. Of course being the person that I am, I would never be able to run faster than this  surprisingly malicious rat. 

I struggled to keep up my balance, eventually tripping on thin air, dropping the small piece of sandwich a few feet away from me. I quickly rolled over, my chest heaving up and down as I faced the rat not even given a second before they scratched at my shirt. I winced, holding my stomach and seeing my hand covered in some blood. My breathing was getting more heavy as I saw a silhouette by the kitchen entrance. The lights turned on, blinding the rat for just a second as I quickly stood up and kept running towards my hook, holding my stomach. I knew what was happening, and there was no way I would be found the second a new human moves in, right? I blinked back the tears building up in my eyes, tripping once again. My vision was blurry from the tears, and judging by the small squeaks from the rat I thought was a good couple feet away, that meant that the human was here. 

Forcing myself to sit up, I looked at the bowl that kept moving. The rat screeching to be released from their prison. The human placed some heavy books on top, sighing to himself as he muttered something under his breath I couldn’t catch, but I didn’t really care. I scrambled back onto my feet, trying to run yet again and slammed into something soft and squishy. I winced as I fell and soon my entire world was moving again, the soft surface now everywhere. 

It settled in my mind slowly, realizing that I was in human hands. It hurt to breathe from my new wound, but I couldn’t help it. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to muffle the sounds of my quiet cries. 

“Oh! U-um, I didn’t mean to…” Their voice sounded quiet and worried. I just continued crying, not even caring what would happen to me. Who was I kidding? I could never have survived on my own! I should’ve known when that first human moved out. Sure it was okay at first, but obviously them moving was a sign that I wasn’t meant to be on my own. I should’ve listened to my parents and stayed with them. This would’ve never happened, I would be alive and healthy instead of on the brink of death and in Death’s hands himself. Literally. Who knows what this human would do to me? It was scary to think about. 

“P-Please don’t h-hurt me.” I mumbled most likely too quiet for his ears to hear, leaning against what I think was his thumb. He flinched slightly, but why did it feel so… comfortable? 

“Aw little guy,” He smiled softly, “I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” I leaned into the warmth from his hands, hugging what was his thumb closely, still crying to myself. What else was I supposed to do? Of course I was scared but… I also just wanted someone to hold me. Right now I didn’t care that it was a human and I’d face my consequences later, I just wanted to be promised that I wouldn’t have to try so hard anymore. That I could just live without thinking about what I could manage to get for dinner. 

“You were just… hungry?” He asked as I picked my head up, seeing him looking straight at the piece I had dropped on the counter. I shakily nodded my head, hoping he would see. For now, I would just hide my fear. Right now this human was giving me everything I’ve wanted this past week. Comfort, warmth. Heck, I’m even crying in front of him. How embarrassing was that and he still hasn’t said or asked me anything. 

“Hm, here little guy.” He tried tilting me back onto the counter, but I grabbed onto his sleeve and hung on tighter. I didn’t want to be let go already. I know humans are bad and I’d face the consequences eventually, but right now I’d like to think that not all of them were as horrifying as the stories make them out to be. 

He softly laughed, cupping both hands around me again. I sniffled, “C-could you… h-help me? P-please.” I tried wiping away my tears, but they just kept coming. My eyes felt red and puffy, my legs felt like jello, heart racing. I was a mixture of emotions. Terrified, filled with hope, and most of all grateful that this human hadn’t decided to hurt me yet. 

The human studied me, worried. I stood still for a moment, hoping I would get my answer. It seemed ridiculous to be asking a human this. One that probably had no idea that they had saved me in the first place. My heart thumped in my chest, waiting in the eerie silence, awaiting my answer. My stomach still burnt from the deep gash, but I've had to go through worse. There was still some blood that was getting on the humans’ shirt sleeve, but that was the least of my worries. 

I felt something rub against my back, making me flinch, but lean into the gentle touch. Some part of me knew that this was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. I was sitting in a humans’ hand, talking to one, being seen by one. And for some reason, it all felt right. Everything felt right. That this was meant to happen. That it was alright for me to be vulnerable to this human. 

They started moving their hand as I continued to cry, pressing my face into the fabric of his shirt. When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a makeshift hug. I could hear his heartbeat in the background beating rhythmically, the slight rise and fall of his chest with every slow breath he took. I sniffled, shocked from the gesture but otherwise grateful. I wasn’t going to die. I was alive. I felt safe. There was no more suffering, no more false hope, no more anything. I would be fine. I smiled to myself, trying to wipe away the tears trailing down my face. 

I guess sometimes it’s okay to ask for help. 

——————

I hope you enjoyed! I don't know how to feel about this myself, but I think it's alright! Again, I had a lot of fun writing and thank you for the prompt!

Slowly getting out of my writing slump, hopefully get these prompts done plus something reallyyyy exciting (well at least it is to me)

Thank you for reading! :D

Taglist: @da3dm

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 13: ~

Operation Spy Part 2:

There's not much to say here. Other than that, I never expected to do this many chapters and still have so many people reading every time I post. I'm truly grateful for all of you, and I hope you all stick around for the next 10 chapters I have planned.

Bernard Cunningham was exactly how you'd picture a stereotypical chairman. A tall, large man in his 40s, with brown hair and matching moustache, that would make Gibbo blush and wearing a 3 piece green suit. Oh, and smoked expensive cigars. Can't forget that.

Caz sat opposite the way overpriced mahogany desk and caught quick glances at the possible fake awards, all neatly hung in the office that was bigger than his living room. Of course, the office was several stories high. As Bernard helped himself to a cigar, Caz quickly caught a glimpse of the crane lifting the infected containers off the ship and onto the docks. His leg began to bounce. Still couldn't feel their presence from this height. Everyone else who wasn't infected sat outside in a large waiting lobby. He was last to be questioned. At least he was back in his own clothes. His work clothes had a stink that would never come off.

Something else was odd. No police. Nothing. Billy couldn't have dropped the charges. Did they only send a letter off to Beria? They didn't have to go through the higher ups? Technically, it was Rennick's. He owned the place. If it went straight to Beria, then he had no time to call the police and let them know. He had his own phone to reach the mainland, and Administration also had theirs for whenever the crew needed some time with family. And, ironically enough, besides Gregor and Davros, all of Administration were missing. Still, Caz had to keep his guard up. This was his last chance to slip past them. They probably had no idea the rig was evacuated, and why would they? This wasn't their problem.

'Right, Mr. McLeary.' Bernard's booming voice brought Caz out of his endless thoughts. 'Tell me what happened to my rig?' Oh, it was a good thing Rennick wasn't here. Like Caz with Roper, some of his attitude must have rubbed off on him because he had to bite back from correcting Bernard.

'I dunno,' he answered. 'It all just fucking-'

'Please no swearing in my office.'

'It all just fell apart.'

'Just like that?'

'I guess,' Caz shrugged. 'Construction isn't my forte.'

'But you saw what happened?'

'Yes. The f-' He paused and composed himself. 'Pieces just fell into the North Sea.'

'Alright.' Bernard began to jot down notes. If Caz didn't feel like this was an interrogation, then it certainly felt one now. Another quick glance to docks. 'And how did you follow protocol?' It was now Caz realised this was going to be a long day.

'I listened to Rennick and went to find anyone who needed assistance.'

'Oh, and not fix any electrics?'

'Things were important.'

'Such as?'

Was this guy serious?

'The wellbeing of my coworkers.' Caz couldn't help himself. He reverted back to his youth when he would sarcastically answer back to the headmaster, explaining why the student he beat up deserved it. 'The place was already falling apart, and thankfully, the backup generators hadn't switched on. The leccy was fine. Engineering had that covered.'

'And what of Rennick? The man wasn't listed as a survivor. Do you know what happened?'

Caz shrugged. 'My guess, he fell from the Beria when it began to shake.'

'And the others?' Bastard didn't even know their names.

'I tried to get Gregor.' The memory came back. Caz's composure began to slip, and his breathing began to labour. There was a sadness in his eyes as he looked to the floor. His fingers began to tap against each other. 'But I couldn't reach him.'

Bernard continued to write down the answers. 'That makes the payouts easier...'

And just like that, something snapped in Caz. His face dropped, and his skin turned pale. He slowly looked back up, trying to make eye contact with the chairman.

'Excuse me?'

Bernard ignored the question. Caz thought more. He began to think if he was in Rennick's position and then everything he had noticed on the bulletin boards. He knew Rennick was cutting corners, but someone gave him the budget to build Beria. Money never comes out of a buisness man's own pocket, especially for a rig. Caz looked back at Bernard. Rennick's voice ran through his head.

'I know you all hate me, but you should all share that hatred towards Cadal.'

'Please. If it was up to me, I would have stopped the drilling. But Cadal, that Bernard prick, would have rung all our necks.'

Now, Caz understood. Bernard Cunningham was a weasel-bodied, rat-faced, snake. His body tensed, trying his best not to jump the table and do what he did to Billy to this prick. Because of this cheap bastard, Gregor, Davros, and the others were dead. Rennick was right. It all linked back to him. He had to look away.

The last container was lowered onto the docks. Everyone from Beria held their breath. No one could stop it. They all knew this would happen, but what would happen next? A man opened the door to Muir's container, and a horrified scream echoed across all of Scotland. They fell onto their back, others came to look in curiosity, which was followed by a look of shock, as Muir stepped out along with Innes.

'Oh, shut up, mate,' Innes snapped. 'Can't you see I've got a headache?' Too much booze, food and crying from last night.

Using a tendril, Muir opened the other infected doors. Panic spread across the dock employees who saw the others appear from hiding. You couldn't blame them as they all collectively moved away like the infected were lepers or had some form of contagious disease. Obviously, this wasn't what they had in mind. But, what they couldn't wrap their head around was how normal they were acting. Trots, being the closest to looking human, stretched his arms above his head before putting his backpack over a shoulder. 'Finally,' he groaned. 'Thought I was gonna suffocate this there.' He then took in his surroundings and smiled. Land at last. He turned to Gibbo and pointed into the distance. 'Look, Gibbo, it's a tree.'

Gibbo had clearly slept the entire trip. He had a dazed look in his eyes, and his hair, because he was the lucky bastard who didn't lose it through infection, was all over the place. He tossed and turned in his sleep. He forced a tired smile. Trots' genuine happiness was hard to ignore. 'Did you think you'd never see one again?'

Bernard and everyone on from Beria came out onto the dock. Seeing how casual they were, the workers began to relax. Their mouths were still agape, bodies frozen in place and eyes staring at them. It must be a trait of his because Roy tapped one of the man's shoulders.

'Don't stare. They've been through enough.'

Bernard shoved his way to the front. His face went white, and sweat ran down his forehead. 'What...What...' He stepped closer with a look of panic in his eyes. The infected and Innes noticed. They'd never met Bernard before, but they all knew this was him, and they all gave him a dirty glare. 'What the fuck is this?!' Because, they all knew that he wasn't showing panic for their well-being. If it was possible, his pupils would he shaped as the pound sign. He was worried over what this meant for his company and reputation. 'Is this a joke?'

'It's December,' Finlay muttered yet was loud enough for Bernard to hear. How odd.

Bernard frantically looked in all directions, suddenly catching a glimpse of Innes still holding onto Muir. 'And why are you touching it?!' Well, that got everyone to glare. If it wasn't for Innes, Muir would have flung Bernard to London. Addair looked like a predator locked in on its prey. Large, rounded eyes that had no life behind them. Trots debated on punching him, and Gibbo's jaws clenched, and his teeth began to rub. But it was Caz who went to make the first move, rolling up his sleeve and stepping forward. Fuck it. He'll happily punch him into next week.

'Ah, Bernard Cunningham.' That voice. It ran a shiver up Bernard's spine and caused Caz to stop in his tracks. Somehow, Rennick had slipped past over thirty people and crept up to the chairman by scaling the building, who stood frozen in fear. 'Sorry to have given you a scare, and so sorry to get you out of your office.' That light, sing-song tone from that built anxiety for his crew, now made them smile wickedly. One of Rennick's 'arms' wrapped themselves around Bernard's shoulder, and he pulled himself uncomfortably close to his face. Bernard didn't have the courage to look at him. 'But, I think you and I need to have a wee chat.'

'You're supposed to be dead.'

'Now, wouldn't that have made your day?'

Bernard glanced to Caz, who simply shrugged. 'Guess we miscounted.'

[chvoswxtch]

a wrap on the bodyguard

this is a really bittersweet moment for me. i've been trying to find the words to really capture how i've been feeling about this whole thing, and I don't know if these are even enough to fully express it, but i've been sitting with this for a few days since posting the final chapter and watching y'all respond to it, and they feel right in this moment

when I first got the request for bodyguard frank, I had no idea it would turn into what it did. it never would’ve been possible without kate, whom I am immensely grateful for and forever indebted to, who gave me the gift of this incredible idea, and her wonderful friendship

even when so many of you asked for a part 2, I didn’t think it would go beyond that. but this very quickly became a passion project for me that I spent over a year and a half on, spanned 26 chapters, and is made up of roughly 130k words. it challenged me to step outside my comfort zone, and showed me I could do something I didn’t think I was capable of

to all of you who took the time to read this series, whether you kept up with it from the beginning, or you just recently found it and binged, to all of you who interacted with it and me in any way, from the bottom of my heart, genuinely and sincerely, thank you. you don’t know how much it meant to me. every single one of y'all have helped me to become a better writer and gave me more confidence in myself, and showed me to grant myself more grace when it came to being overly self-critical

I have loved books since I was a shy kid who struggled to make friends, whose only way of traveling and meeting new people sometimes was in those books, and being an author and creating that feeling for someone else has always been a dream. because of y’all, that dream has come true. I looked forward to seeing the reactions and comments and feedback from every single one of y’all every single time, and getting to watch y’all fall in love with something I created was such an incredible experience

if you’re looking for your sign to start that project or post that thing you did, do it. creating is hard, and sharing it with the world is scary, but it is such a rewarding thing, and you never know what it could turn into

I am so unbelievably honored and overwhelmed and blown away by the kindness and love y’all have shown this story, and me. I am so happy it brought so many of y’all to me, and that it’s created friendships I cherish so much. this story was a gift to me that I feel so lucky to share with all of y’all. so please, enjoy it as much as you like, it’s yours

with all the love in my heart,

court 🖤

[thechaoticarchivist]

Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice | Levi Ackerman X Reader

→ Crossposted on A03 ←

Word Count: 2,250

Pairing: Levi Ackerman X gn!Reader

Content Warnings: None - Just fluff; no Y/N used, 'they' pronouns for reader, modern AU

Summary: Levi Ackerman could never understand the obsession with pumpkin spice, but it did always seem to make you happy, so he tolerated it.

Author’s Note: I really have to give thanks to @amywritesthings, because this whole story idea appeared because of some silly comments due to this post over who would hate pumpkin spice season the most.

It always seemed that when school supplies started flooding the stores, there became a weird, immediate need for people to have autumn everything, and that tended to irritate a specific tea shop owner to no end. 

Starting as early as August most years, Levi found himself cutting off questions about cinnamon and pumpkin flavored drinks with a curt ‘no’. He tolerated the question better from new customers, but it was the regulars asking that really set his teeth on edge. 

Specifically - there was a bespeckled brunette scientist that made an appearance every afternoon with their partner for a Masala Chai Black tea before the two of them headed off to their graveyard shift doing who knows what. The scientist would order their usual drink, and then immediately follow up by asking obnoxiously when the new fall flavors were dropping, like they hadn’t been coming to the tea shop for years. 

They then always cackled wildly at Levi’s annoyed expression, and their partner usually left a larger tip in apology.  

For the life of him, he could not figure out the obsession behind this time of year. It wasn’t that the drinks were bad (although they were arguably not his favorite), but it was the fact that when the summer seemed to wane, this particular flavor arrived and locked everyone in a chokehold, suffocating and tainting all flavors of drink, food, and candle with it’s scent until peppermint seemed sweep in to do the same in the winter. 

At least Levi could tolerate the smell of peppermint.

August and September slipped away one quiet day at a time. As the weather turned chilly and the leaves switched into their reds and golds, the questions of ‘pumpkin spice’ and ‘cinnamon’ only increased, and so did the black-haired manager’s daily headache. 

He couldn’t exactly deny the slight increase of profits they saw between now and Valentine’s Day (the third of the weird drink obsessions he dealt with every year, chocolate flavors closely following pumpkin spice and peppermint),  but he didn’t see the joy in the season or the smell as others did. It was just another time of year. One that darkened the skies earlier and made people move a little quicker when they were out and about. 

Truthfully, the start of the ‘Bers’ (as you called it, always laughing at your own pun,) usually sent Levi more into solitude than it did any other time of the year. He spent the holidays with his mother and uncle, of course, but it was also a reminder to him that just another year had passed and what truly had he to show for it?

He had to admit that it had grown on him recently, though. Ever since you had made room for yourself in some of the space in his grumpy heart around this time last year. 

“Kirstein, go flip the sign, will you?”

The two-tone haired barista nodded with a yawn, making his way to the front, one hand scratching his hair. The younger man let out a groan at the sight of the line already outside. He clicked his tongue, a habit he had picked up from the owner. “Do you think they’re all here for that new pie flavor already?”

“It’s not going to be available until Monday, so they can wait.” 

“Maybe we should tell your partner to cool it on the posts on Instagram for a bit?” Jean’s blood turned cold with the look coming from the gray eyes behind the counter. He mumbled a quick apology. 

“They’re work on our social media has significantly helped retain our customer base. They know what they are doing.”

“Yeah, but maybe they could tone it down with the fall..?” Another glare sent the barista blushing, and he turned to fiddle with the door lock and the sign as he was asked. 

The crowd of morning commuters slipped quickly into the cafe and out of the chilled morning air, filling up the space with body heat and quiet conversation. Two lines formed, led by regulars who had been coming here often enough that Levi had their teas already brewing as the doors opened. He found himself strangely thankful for them, as they always seemed to tame the initial chaos of opening. 

A tall, blonde history teacher who consistently ordered a matcha before he headed off to a room full of rambunctious teenagers for the day. A lively redhead that was a secretary for some larger corporation and always seemed to already have too much energy before she received her Gyokuro green tea. A tired looking doctor who preferred the typical English breakfast black tea to start his day before his long shift.

But once those few consistencies in the shop’s morning routine passed through and back out into the crisp air to their next location, the headache began. 

Because it didn't matter that the advertisement you made said “NEW APPLE CINNAMON PIE - SEPT 23!”, or that you had decorated the chalkboard menu behind the counter in a similar fashion  with “SEPTEMBER 23” written under it, people kept asking. 

You had chastised Levi and Jean both before, that their response of ‘Can’t you read?’ was not an appropriate answer to the question, and instead to politely just remind them which day it would be coming, but it always seemed to become harder and come out a little harsher from both men as the day wore on. 

Levi’s patience would always run thin by early afternoon when the 50th ‘Will you be having any pumpkin spice drinks soon?’ was asked, especially when, in his opinion, there were much better choices on the menu.

This particular Friday, you had told him that you were getting off early from your own job and would be down to decorate the shop in the afternoon for the launch of the fall flavors coming on Monday. When you had asked him if he had any seasonal decorations, he had pointed you in the direction of the supply closet, but you had become sourly displeased at the little amount that he had in there. 

Levi almost rolled his eyes when you appeared with a large box in tow, one that Jean was happy to take from your arms and place on a table. He then immediately went to make your favorite drink, receiving an eye roll from a shopkeeper who was absolutely in no way jealous of the younger man’s attempts to befriend you. None at all. 

You went into your normal routine once you were inside, stepping behind the counter to give Levi a quick peck on the cheek and a  “Hi, ‘Vi,”, as that was the most amount of affection he allowed while working, and thanking Jean for the steaming travel cup of Roobios Chai.

You then started your rounds, greeting the evening regulars (a young boy and girl who always came to study for a few hours after school, an older bald man that always seemed on edge about the latest news of the city, and a quiet dark haired lad who always had a book, but eyes that seemed to never leave the barista)  and checking in on their personal lives - Levi had no idea how you were able to remember such things, but people always seemed happy that you did. 

Once finished with checking in with those you knew and introducing yourself to those who you didn’t, you finished up your drink, tossed the cup, and went to the back to pull out a ladder from the storage closet.  Next, you began the process of unpacking the box of decorations you had lugged all the way down here, smiling happily at each thing you pulled out and set on the table. Garland leaves, table centerpieces, and cute knick knacks for the counter. It was impressive you were able to fit as much as you did inside. 

You spread things throughout the store, a rough map of where you wanted everything, and the customers happily moving around to give you space. They chatted with you about their excitement of things, always willing to lend a hand if needed. 

By the end of the night, garland outlined the ceiling, the door, and the register counter, and a cluster of orange, green, and white pumpkins and tea candles sat in the middle of a cream covered doily on each table. 

You were just finishing putting up little scarecrows and a couple of stuffed ravens in watchful places as Jean flipped the sign to close and Levi worked on closing out the till. 

The three of you worked together to give the place its normal nightly scrub as the quiet jazz that was always playing in the background filled the space around you. It was an easy routine - one that had been trained deeply into the two of you. Jean seemed to go out of his way to help you, though, and Levi wasn’t annoyed by it at all. Whatsoever. 

As Jean threw you an easy smile as you chatted, Levi let out a huff that you caught instantly, and you raised an eyebrow in his direction. 

“Everything alright, Levi?”

“Fine. Just finish up so we can go home.” 

You hummed in agreement, tying up the trash bags that Jean was all too happy to take to the dumpster for you. Once he was out of earshot, you looked over at your boyfriend. “He’s just being nice.” 

There was a click of the tongue as a response, and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “None of you other employees get you so riled up.” 

“None of my other employees openly flirt with you,” he deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes, walking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You planted a gentle kiss under his ear and lowered your voice. “You’re the only one for me, ‘Vi. I’m not going anywhere.” 

He stopped counting bills, raising one hand to give one of your arms a light squeeze, his way of acknowledging your statement. 

When Jean came back in, you made sure to hang on to Levi just a little longer, making it clear where your loyalties lie, and you could feel Levi’s shoulders relax just slightly underneath your arms. 

Once everything had been locked up, all cups and machinery cleaned for the next day, the three of you headed to the front door.

"Don’t forget, I’m stealing Levi for the day tomorrow, so you’ll be opening on your own with Eld,” you reminded Jean as the door shut behind you. Levi pulled out his keys to lock up, Jean nodding. 

“Are the two of you going anywhere fun?” 

“No,” huffed Levi, only to be covered up by your enthusiastic, “Yes!”

“Hange and Moblit invited a group of us to the Pumpkin Farm and Festival over in Trost,” you explained with excitement. “And it’s been ages since we’ve seen everyone, so it’ll be a nice day.” 

Jean smiled in response, only to swallow the words on his tongue as he caught sight of the shorter man’s face. Levi was holding another set of keys out to him, with a large green and white fuzzy ball hanging from it. “Do not lose my spare key.” 

Jean tensed up, barking out “Yes, sir,” a little too loudly as he took the key and put it in his own coat pocket. He knew better than to ask about the keychain - it most likely was something you had put on there.

You reached out, and touched the young man’s arm and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you’ll do fine tomorrow, Jean, but do call if something happens.” 

A nervous smile was given to you in return. “I’m sure we won’t need to call and bother the two of you at all. We have it handled!” 

There was a snort from Levi, and you subtly elbowed him. 

“It’s a nice evening for a walk, don’t you -”

“Go home, Kirstein.” Levi cut Jean off, putting an arm around your waist and steering you away.  You leaned into the touch, a grin creeping across your face from the jealousy you rarely saw from Levi. Briefly, you turned to wave a goodbye at Jean, and then leaned back into your boyfriend’s embrace. 

“Do you think he forgot we lived together?” you asked with a giggle. 

“Forgot a lot of things if he was that brazen…” Levi trailed off with a huff. 

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” you said with a smile, but that only got you a glare in return.

The majority of your walk was in comfortable silence as you made your way down the maze of roads to the apartment the two have shared for a few months now. You walked up the stairs together, Levi digging out his keys once more to unlock the door to your quaint home. 

Once the lock clicked, his hand froze on the knob, causing your eyebrows to furrow in concern. He let out a long sigh. 

“You didn’t just decorate the shop, did you?” It was less of a question and more of a statement. 

You couldn’t help but grin as you kissed his cheek and pushed the door open wide. The two of you were immediately hit with a wave of cinnamon. “You know me so well.” 

No, Levi couldn’t say that he understood this obsession with this time of the year at all, but it made you happy, and for that, he would tolerate you and your pumpkin spice.

Created by @thechaoticarchivist September 2024. Do not repost - reblogs and comments always welcome!

[abarbaricyalp]

Bed, Beignets, Birthdays, and Other B Things Sam Wilson Likes

Happy birthday, Cap! 🎉 // AO3 Link 🛏🥐🎂

Sam’s arm fell to the other side of the bed and landed on a warm chest instead of cool sheets. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before turning over and sneaking a glance at the man next to him. Scared, just for a moment, that this might slip away if he actually looked.

Bucky was already awake, but he was still sleep rumpled, impression lines crossing his face and chest, hair a mess. Sam wondered if he could convince him to cut it now. Surely he was more susceptible to the idea when it was all tangled in the morning. Then again, Sam figured if the whole ‘your secret identity will be harder to figure out if you cut off your trademark mane’ hadn’t worked, he didn’t think a few knots would either.

“You stayed,” he yawned and stretched his arms into Bucky’s space.

Bucky’s fingers fell across one of Sam’s hands, traced over the lines of his metacarpals lightly. “It’s your birthday,” he said simply. “Thought I should at least buy you breakfast. Give you a day off.”

Sam smiled at the idea. Not hunting down rogue bases and ghost stories was fine by him. It seemed like a lovely day outside. The seasons were actually turning here and there was a crispness he could feel even without opening the window. It made him press closer to Bucky’s chest, hiding his head under Bucky’s jaw. Bucky’s arms went around him, his left arm slow in caution and also because he was laying on it.

“Maybe I like chasing you down,” Sam suggested.

“You like pastries more,” Bucky pointed out. And that was true. Food in general, but breakfast desserts were a favorite. And they were in Paris of all places. Sam really could not envision a better day.

“You got any other plans for the day?” Sam asked. “Or are you gonna disappear as soon as I turn my back on you outside?”

“I don’t plan on letting you outside,” Bucky admitted. “My plans involved getting you in the shower and then back in this bed. Everything else can be ordered in.”

Sam hummed. That did sound like a really good plan. “Can I open the window?”

“We’re on a fourth floor, so I don’t think that many people will be able to hear you. Go for it.”

Sam lifted his head enough to watch Bucky’s face until it broke into a grin. “Oh, that kind of day in bed, huh?” he asked.

Bucky’s fingers moved up Sam’s back. “That kind of day in bed,” he agreed and turned onto his back, pulling Sam over him as he went. His fingers went back to tracing Sam’s spine and Sam tried not to shiver with it. He didn’t succeed.

“If you were gonna ask for something today, what would it be?” Bucky asked.

Sam raised an eyebrow and took his own turn to brush his fingers over Bucky’s chest–the line of hair traveling down his pecs, a birthmark against his ribs, a scar under his collarbone, which Sam weirdly had a matching one to. They’d both gotten them when they were kids, lifetimes before they knew each other or had any shared life experience. Except, Sam supposed, falling out of a tree and hitting every branch on the way down.

“Use pet names today,” he decided. “Don’t call me Wilson.”

“What about–”

“Sam and all your terrible variations are fine,” Sam added.

Bucky grinned up at him. “Alright, doll,” he agreed. “That one’s easy enough to give you.” He sat up so they were shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest, hip to hip. It made Sam light-headed and he tilted forward to catch Bucky’s mouth on his and also steady himself.

Bucky kissed like he thought it was the last thing he was going to do. Sam refused to consider the legitimacy of that fear. Bucky was intense and excited. Sometimes it felt like running into a brick wall and sometimes he opened up like an endless expanse of soft lips and searching hands. Sometimes the brick wall came down between them, and then tilted forward for extra kisses, with a hand on Sam’s chest, pushing him back.

“Wait, wait,” Bucky panted and then took another three kisses. “Shower first,” he encouraged. “I have a plan for today.”

“What about food?” Sam asked.

Bucky grinned at him and it made Sam’s stomach turn over in the most desirable way. “Well, I’m gonna eat,” he said oh-so innocently. “But I don’t know how long it’s gonna take, so I figured we could order in later.”

Sam was nodding before Bucky even finished talking. “Yeah, alright,” he agreed, pulling Bucky into another kiss.

He was expecting it when Bucky stood and lifted him in the same motion, but it still made him go light headed all over again. He kind of loved it when Bucky did that. It made him feel young and spontaneous and it was so damn hot.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Bucky breathed against Sam’s chest, where he seemed to be trying to kiss his way to Sam’s heart.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed dazedly. “And here’s to many more.”

“Well you’ve still got to get through this one,” Bucky teased.

Sam shivered and curled his arms around the back of Bucky’s neck. He kind of thought this wouldn’t be such a bad way to go. But he was fully planning on doing this again next year.

Read the rest on AO3

[changenameno]

Gym Master PART 1

(Complete)

 Summary:

The concept of working out wasn’t completely new to you, but you definitely, really overdid it today. You shouldn’t have. Because now you are standing in front of the staircase to your apartment. Which coincidentally is on the fifth floor, with no elevator. And no way in hell, are you able to walk all these stairs, with your sore legs. So what are you going to do?

 

Pairing: Clark Kent x Curvy Fem. Reader

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, a few self-deprecating comments/thoughts, strength kink, p in v, breeding kink, praise kink

Word count: 3.3K

 

A/N: Okay I may have worked out longer today and I’m super (wink, wink) sore, so this came to me. All mistakes are my own. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! Enjoy❤️✨

 

 👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓

 PART 1

You stood before the staircase, gym bag lying, long abandoned next to you. How on earth were you going to climb all those? You could barely stand up, legs screaming at you to sit down.

 

 

Then without warning, a whirlwind of black curls in a chequered shirt passed you. You didn’t recognize him, once he had climbed a few steps, he turned back. His face just as sightly as his behind.

Strong jawline, shapely lips forming a kind smile and striking blue eyes behind black rimmed glasses roving over your form.

 

 

Those same lips opened and a smooth voice sounded, “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met yet? I just moved in. I’m Clark, fifth floor. And you?”

 

 

You stared a moment, asking yourself how you could have missed him moving in and on the same floor no less. Once you recovered a bit, you gave him your name adding that you too lived on the fifth floor.

 

 

His charming smile widened at that, “Really? No way, I could have missed someone so beautiful, living right next to me.”

 

 

Heat began rolling through you, because this handsome man wasn’t just nice, he very much flirted with you and you had no idea how to response. Averting your eyes.

 

 

Clark noticed your slight unease, afraid he came on too strong, he continued, “Erm, well… just wanted to tell you, it’s nice to meet you. And I erm, have to get going. So see you around?”

 

 

Still a bit stumped, you only nodded, then he turned and moved up the stairs so swiftly, it had you envious, because of your predicament.

 

 

You waited a bit, not wanting him to see you, attempting to move. As you lifted your bag, you thought your arm would give out. Every single muscle you had, hurt. Very badly.

 

 

Still you had to at least try to go upstairs, gripping the bannister to your left and starting to heave your body up the first step. Then the second, and the third. Once you finally reached the second floor, you felt your glutens burn like hell, teeth clenched the whole way there, to suppress the pained whimpers wanting to break forth.

 

 

You let your bag fall to the ground again, sitting down on the first step leading to the third floor. The possibility of ever reaching the fifth floor, seemed unlikely. You slumped in on yourself, leaning your exhausted body against the cool stone wall to your right. There was no way you could walk another three stories in this condition. You weren’t even sure if you could stand up again.

 

 

After about thirty minutes, during which you hoped to gather enough strength to continue your ascend, you knew you were stuck. You couldn’t continue even if your life depended on it. Then after another fifteen minutes, you considered calling someone to save you. Not caring anymore how embarrassing it’d be to have someone see you in this state. But you had difficulties deciding on who to call. You definitely needed someone strong enough, not that you where that heavy but you didn’t trust any of your girlfriends to be able to carry you and your bag three flights of stairs.

 

 

You were so emerged in your thoughts, you didn’t immediately hear the footfalls approaching. Once you did, it was too late to hide your predicament, because you couldn’t just jump up and pretend nothing was wrong.

 

 

You cursed internally as those striking blue eyes from before, found your gaze, this time though with frowning dark brows, “Hey again…erm, are you okay?”

 

 

Now you frowned as well. Great, of course it had to be your handsome neighbour to find you stranded on the stairs. Still you were so fed up with your aching body, you decided to tell him the truth, “Well actually, no. I erm… overworked myself in the gym and… and I’m so exhausted I can’t climb the rest of the stairs…”

 

 

You didn’t hold his gaze, rather looking down at your leggings clad thighs, wishing to be anywhere else right now. Sighing as you expected him to laugh at your pathetic display, any moment now.

 

 

Instead he commented, “Mmmh that can happen to the best of us. I don’t mind lending you a hand.”

 

 

That had you looking up, in record time. He couldn’t be serious, right? But Clark actually held out his hand, you blinked at it a few times, too baffled to reach up. Kindly smiling down at you he continued cheekily, “I swear I don’t bite.” Adding more quietly, “Unless you want me to.”

 

 

Your eyes widened at his last commented, so shocked, you hadn’t had time to protest as his hand circled your wrist and without further ado, he pulled you up. Now standing so close to him, you could smell his heavenly cologne. Fuck, you hadn’t even showered before you left the gym.

 

 

“Put your arms around my neck,” he instructed you.

Suddenly a little insecure, you couldn’t stop your self-deprecating comment, “No, no…wait I’m too heavy!”

 

 

Though your protest fell on deaf ears, as Clark swung your bag over his right shoulder, while he started to lift you with his left. Mewling, you quickly did as he said, slinging your arms around his neck. The angered growl he let out, had you ruin your panties, “You aren’t, too heavy. Maybe too beautiful, but that isn’t an issue in my books. Now is it?” His blue eyes were fixed on your face, sternly awaiting your answer.

 

 

The way he’d said it, had the heat in your stomach curling happily and you whispered back, “Erm, no… I-I guess not.”

 

 

His next words, had more wetness rush into your panties, “Good girl.” Then he set into motion, making you hold onto him tighter, still a little afraid he’d let you fall. On the contrary though, Clark didn’t seem like he was carrying anything, moving just as swiftly up the stairs as before, not even slightly bothered by the added weight.

 

 

Good God, he was strong. His biceps pressed against your ass and his large hand held onto your thigh, fingers digging into the flesh, though pleasantly. You had to suppress a shiver, as you were thinking about something entirely different that these fingers could do. They were long and slender, sure to reach a lot deeper than your own, possibly stretching you for something even bigger.

 

Clark hadn’t even reached the fourth floor yet, and here you were, pulsing pussy wanting nothing more than to be pounded into by this strong, muscled man you’d just met.

 

You carefully peeked at his face, trying to gauge if he’d noticed your excitement.

 

 

You did see his nostrils flare and you could have sworn, his pupils looked more blown out than a minute ago. Electric blue irises, reduced to thin rings almost swallowed by the blackness of his pupils. This did nothing to help calm you down, especially when those orbs landed on your face. Hunger and desire plainly displayed on his chiselled face.

 

 

His gaze was back on the staircase, but a sly smirk had settled on his lips as he continued upwards. Not even two minutes later, he had reached the fifth floor.

 

 

“Which one is your door?” Clark still hadn’t set you down, like you had thought he would, so you nodded to the white door of your apartment.

 

“Mmhm right next to mine, interesting.” You didn’t know what to make of his comment so you ignored it, as he approached your door. When he came to a stop you looked at him expectantly, if a bit disappointed you’d reached your destination, “Erm… you can let me down now.” That was pretty much the opposite you wanted. But you couldn’t very well let him in, on your exact thoughts, on what you wanted him to do to you.

 

 

He chuckled, “I can yeah. But what if I don’t want to?”

 

 

Okay you were almost certain this man wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. Even if he was your neighbour, consequences be damned.

So you purred back,” If that were the case, I would invite you in.”

 

 

Adding a bit quieter, just as he had earlier, “You know to thank you…properly,” putting emphasis on the last word. His fingers gripped your thigh harder, growling just one word, “Keys.”

 

 

That had you fumbling for the back pocket of your leggings, pulling out your keys at last. His larger hand ripped it from yours, nearly jamming into the keyhole. Once he’d opened the door, he carried you through the threshold, carelessly letting your bag fall to the ground then kicking your door shut.

 

Before you could say anything Clark had you swung around in his arms, pressing your back against the door. On instinct you adjusted to the new position, crossing your legs behind his back and pulling his face closer to yours by his neck. He didn’t wait, immediately following the need to taste you, so he did. Meeting your lips in a wild and hungry kiss.

 

 

His enthusiasm, made him thrust forward, so your overheating centre was grinding against his bulge. Making him groan into the kiss. Only separating for the much needed supply of oxygen.

 

 

To grind into you even harder one of his hands had grabbed your ass. You let out a loud moan, as this had caused your clit to rub against the button on his jeans. “You sound divine, little dove. Let’s see what other noises I can pull from that sweet mouth of yours.”

 

 

And just like that he bit down, on the junction where your neck met your shoulder, making you cry out, “Yes ahh…fuck Clark, pl-please!”

 

Mouth still attached to your skin he ground out, “That’s it, let the neighbours know who’s making you feel good.”

 

Mewling again, as he suddenly hoisted you up a bit, so your body bounced up, now sitting above his straining cock. Your hands having moved to his nape, pulling lightly on his dark strands.

He grunted, then began moving down the hall, but in the opposite direction of your bedroom, so you squirmed in his hold, tucking harder on his hair to get his attention. “W-wait my bedroom is the other way.”

 

 

Clark had reached your kitchen, unceremoniously plopping you down on the countertop,” Who said I wanted to go to the bedroom?”

 

 

He didn’t wait for an answer, swiftly pulling your sport shirt over your head and tossing it onto the floor. This made you a bit self-conscious, sitting before him in your leggings and sports bra, harsh light from the kitchen window sure to enhance the small rolls of fat accumulating on your soft belly. So you quickly let go of his neck to hug your torso, trying to hide.

 

 

He tutted, taking your chin between his thumb and index, so you had to look at him, “Hey, none of that. Don’t hide. I want to see you, all of you, gorgeous.” Gentle smile on his lips telling you, he meant what he’d said.

 

 

Hesitantly nodding, you loosened your arms and then removed your hands from your body, to let him see. Clark retracted his own hand, eyes roving over your exposed skin, whispering, “Simply breath-taking.”

His warm hand slowly stroked over your shoulder, taking the strap of your bra and pulling it down your arm, you stopped his movement, surprising yourself with your new found confidence as you purred, “Let me.”

 

 

You crossed your arms at the front, taking hold of the lilac fabric of your sports bra and swiftly pulled it off. Exposing your tits to his predatory gaze. His hands reached up, engulfing them, thumbs brushing over your stiff nipples. You leaned back onto your hands, pushing your chest into his even more with the movement.

 

Soft sighs left your lips when Clark leaned down to suck one of your nipples into the hot cavern of his mouth, the tip of his tongue teasing over the sensitive flesh. He definitely knew what he was doing. Switching between your breasts, nibbling on your skin, it had your back bowing. You were pretty sure you needn’t have him prepare you any further, because between your legs a puddle had formed already.

 

 

Your right hand tried to pull him up by his nape, but the animalistic growl he let out, made you hesitate, chuckling lightly as you tried again and received the same answer. So instead you opted to lean closer to him, ducking down to whisper into his ear urgently, “Clark… I need your cock inside me, now.”

 

 

That nearly had him collide with your head as his shot up, searching your face. You smirked at his eagerness, as he tore his own shirt open and off, hands flying to the sipper of his jeans next, finally freeing his tortured rod from his confinement. He shimmied out of his pants, only clad in his black boxers now. Impressively tented. You licked your lips in anticipation.

 

 

His hands landed on your hips, growling,” Up.” Every muscle protested as you lifted yourself up to assist him, as he yanked your leggings and panties off, in one go. Leaving you completely naked. When you tried closing your legs, he prevented it by stepping closer and in between them. Opening them wider, steel grip on your knees, so he could take his sweet time staring at your deliciously, dripping cunt. He positioned you, so one foot was plated on the counter and the other hung of the edge.

 

 

“Oh, look at that pretty, pretty pussy. Overflowing. And all for me.” The muscles of your cunt visibly quivered in response to his filthy comment.

You were so desperate to have him inside, you made grabby hands at him. Clark chuckled darkly, “So impatient, my little dove.” But he did push his boxers down.

 

 

You could have sworn, your heart stopped for a second. His cock was so long and heavy it couldn’t even stand up straight, instead the red tip dipped in your direction, bowing down lightly. Oh fuck, how where you supposed to take that monstrosity?

 

He must have seen the frightened look in your eyes, because he added smugly, while placing his hands on your waist, “Don’t worry, we’ll make it fit.” You huffed, biting your lip. Then another thought bubbled up. His eyes seemed familiar somehow, but you couldn’t pinpoint where you had seen them before. You slowly reached up, stroking over his prominent cheekbones and then you gently removed his glasses, setting them down on the counter.

 

 

Frowning you took in his features, wondering how such a god like creature could seem familiar in any way. Maybe you had dreamed about him? Or you had actually seem him pass you or something, you lived in the same house after all? Yes that had to be it.

There wasn’t more time to keep thinking anyway, as you suddenly felt the thick swollen head of his cock rub through your wet folds.

 

His humming the only warning you got, before he began pushing in, one hand guiding his thick shaft. The wide head stretching you open, as he grunted, moving his hips further forward. Your hands griped his broad shoulders, head falling back as he continued to insert himself. Inch by inch he fed you his cock, your heat so slick he easily slid in. But just when you thought he’d settled fully inside, he panted, “Nearly there. Taking me so well, little dove.”

 

 

Your eyes widened, with how full you already felt you thought he was buried to the hilt. Apparently not, but then a triumphant groan left him as he pulled back a little and slammed you against him full force, completely sheathing himself inside your hot cavern. A loud wail left you, pleasure and pain mixing. Out of breath you cursed, “Fucking hell, give a girl a warning…will you?”

 

He simply chuckled, but let you adjust to him. His thumb finding your clit, teasing and rubbing slow circles to get you to relax. That made you clamp down harder, at the sparks of pleasure travelling through you. Making him curse this time, “Fu-uck, love, you feel so good. So fucking tight for me.”

 

 

Hands pulling you closer, so you could cross your ankles behind his back once more. The new positon making you see stars, as he pushed his pelvis to your special nub. Mewling loudly as he pulled out, deeming you ready enough for what would come next. The sound of him slamming into you, filthy, echoing in the tiled kitchen. It made your head spin.

 

 

Clark had just began, but you looked so fucked out already, swollen lips, closed eyes and moaning loudly. Driving him sheer insane with desire, as his balls continuously slapped against you, adding to the filthy sounds filling the room.

 

 

His normally soft blue eyes, were filled with lust as he stared down at you. Trying to keep up his quick pace and thrusting into you deeper, he pulled you off the counter, holding you up with his big paws on your ass. You shrieked as he penetrated you so wholly you were sure he’d carved a new, longer tunnel inside you, just so he could fit. “So clo-se… don’t stop.”

 

 

Clark pulled you up, so just his tip remained inside, before dropping you down his entire length once more, “Yeah, close already? Wanna be filled up, don’t you, you filthy girl?”

 

 

You cried out, “Yees! Breed me!”

 

 

That had him jerk against you so violently it nearly hurt, the most unhinged growl leaving him, “Say that again!” Your pleasure addled mind surely played a tick on you, as his eyes seemed to flash in a crimson colour for a second.

 

 

Though he didn’t leave any room for argument so you repeated your earlier sentiment, “Breed me! Please!”

 

 

Clark’s thrusts started to lose their rhythm, only goal now to make you come so hard you’d never forget what his cock felt like. So having carved out his own space within you, wasn’t for naught, meaning you could take him easier next time.

 

Your walls squeezed him even tighter, alerting him of your impending orgasm, “That’s it come on my cock, like a good girl!”

 

 

Trying to blink away the blurriness, you suddenly felt like you were floating then the taunt band within, snapped. Crying out his name over and over again, as he kept pounding you through your orgasm. “Fuck, gonna, gonna… fill you up so much...” You mewled in response, “Yes, please…”

 

And with your still convulsing cunt surrounding him, he came. Painting your insides white. Hot cum filling you up further, but there wasn’t much room left, so you felt it ooze out as he pumped his cock inside you a few more times, before pulling out.

 

Clark gently set you down on the cool counter, pressing his forehead against yours, beaming, “My sweet, sweet dove, you did so well.” Not having caught your breath yet, you nodded weakly, smiling back at him.

 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Clark lifted you up with ease, walking through your apartment. Both of you, still stark naked.

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[applecherry108]

I have a theory. .

[beastsovrevelation]

I recently found out people ship Cassandra with Apollo.

My initial reaction was...

Just tan their hides. You know what happened to her because the the bastard, don't you?..

Then, I was overwhelmed by morbid curiosity, and checked AO3. People are writing rape fics about them. ...Why?..

Could I ever see Cassandra x Apollo?.. I don't know, maybe. But, definitely not the nonsense I mentioned. Dubcon at most. I guess, he might somehow coerce her into sleeping with him, and later rescue her from the fall of Troy, because she's pregnant with his child, or something (Zeus would be pissed, I'm fine with that).

Sounds like an intriguing story, with a lot of morally questionable elements. I can imagine Apollo confiding in Artemis, wondering why his wife is so upset. She'd just go "are you serious rn?.. -_-".

...What, you're surprised I'm among those I wish to hide with a broom? Don't be. It happens quite often, actually.

[waitineedaname]

thinking about. endless abyss incident.

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

When British writers come up with an American character’s dialogue and give them the most painfully British things to say with their American accent and inflection and it makes the actor come off as stiff. :P

[violet-traitor]

One of my red flags (? Is that the right term to use) is probably the fact that I want my ocs to be happy and have good relationships, which takes away the funny and the interesting. The trauma is there but I won't rest unless they have a good ending. Would it be more interesting if the ending was bad? Surely. Do I have the guts to do it? Absolutely not. Wouldn't it be interesting for 2 of my ocs to have a toxic relationship whose themes are explored and made interesting? Yes but I'll be sad if my character and their significant other aren't all cutesy and happy with one another. I would be making an antagonist/villain with the idea that my characters will finally dislike someone, but then I feel bad for them, give them a redemption arc and throw them in the main group. They're all friends now. In the early stages of a story I am making a character used to be the main villain set out to conquer the world (don't comment on it I was 12) and now he's a very innocent and sensitive person

[isekyaaa]

Kinda like the junk thing about stories about yandere and other characters that are generally charismatic but insane is that like... the stories usually go the same way. It's either that the other character are clueless or that the mc is hyperaware and tries avoiding them from the very start. But I mean I suppose that's how it's supoosed to go with horror/dark romance.

I kinda just want to read a story where the mc has an insanely high eq, but low sense of danger. They can tell there's something off about this dude. The mc has never met a serial killer before, but this charismatic dude everyone likes gives off massive serial killer vibes. But at the same time, the city they live is otherwise rather peaceful. There's nothing really happening at the uni in which they attend. So while they're receiving these vibes, they have nothing to base it off of.

While they don't seek this guy out, they don't avoid him either. He randomly got pulled into their friend group, so the mc sees him often enough. They don't act on guard, but they don't act overly friendly either. Honestly they don't even tip off the yandere's warning signals at all. They're practically an NPC in his life. He could really care less about them.

That is until he begins noticing little things here and there. The girl that had been ruthlessly pursuing him oddly gave up on him out of the blue. The classmate that'd consistently butter him up to copy off of his homework started bothering other people instead. Before he even realized it, people started treating him like a human being instead of putting him on a pedestal. He was losing his control over the group and he had no clue why.

It takes longer than he'd like to admit, but eventually he zeroes in on the mc. The mc is the only outlier in this equation. They're the only one that didn't become obsessed with him, either in infatuation or hate. Really, he should've realized it earlier. You were known as the older sibling of the group, after all. Everyone came to you when they needed to vent. And at the same time, you never treated him as something more. You never obsessed over him, not in infatuation and not in hate. Really, if anything, when you two were in the same room, you treated him as nothing more than an NP–

Hmm...

And then the obsession begins to start, on his part at least. For the first time, he begins to interact with the mc. He begins to pay attention to them. He begins to see them. And he is hooked. And the mc doesn't disappoint. With enough eq for days, they evade him with ease. They slip between his claws. They practically dance circles around him. And it only makes him want to capture them. To confine them. To swallow them whole. And the mc isnt an idiot. They know what he's doing as much as he knows what they're doing. They're not afraid either. They know the yandere. They know how low he's willing to go to get what he wants. They know him.

After going about it a bit, the yandere becomes shocked at the amount of control the mc has over this game of theirs. Because they know him so well, they've set the rules, the allowances, the limits. They did it without even trying. Even when he tries to catch them by surprise, the mc's handles it in stride. Even when he tries to play dirty, the mc doesn't bat an eye. The mc knows him. They know him so very well. He cant win this game no matter how hard he tries.

So he realizes he needs to change tactics.

He'll learn the mc so well he can exploit them as masterfully as they do him.

And the game continues.

[pathsofoak]

I just realized that in the movies Teresa died without knowing that the cure would never reach Newt

(discussion of death and brief mention of suicide in the tags)