#they’re just fueling all the time essentially

[frownyalfred]

sometimes I feel like fics inadvertently overlook how much food the Batfamily, as a team of fully active vigilantes running on minimum sleep cycles and constantly getting into fights (and situations where they need to lift heavy items, hold onto buildings, sprint/jog) must need to consume every week.

like yes, Alfred cooks and Bruce has his smoothies but do you know how many calories they must all need just to be upright? How much protein? Add in the fact that half of them are still growing/in puberty and I just cringe thinking about how many dishes and grocery trips that must be.

#bruce wayne #batman #dc #batfamily #dc comics #they’re just fueling all the time essentially #but that’s not v sexy #thoughts #tw discussion of calories

[rileyslibrary]

Hello! I just wanted to say that your fics have such a distinct feel that it makes it feel like a cinematic masterpiece so moving as each sentence is full of detail and care it’s INSANE

Could you do one where the 141 as a whole are able to go on leave for a few months but reader doesn’t really have a place to go? Like due to thier participation in the military their family has essentially cut contact with them and the military has been a placeholder for their home-life—how would Ghost react?

Once again I love your works and hope you have an amazing day ‼️

The Log Cabin: Pack Light

A/N: Hi, anon! Thank you for your kind words. Here’s the story; enjoy! :)

———————————————————————

You’re at the base’s garage, squatting on the roof of a battle-worn 1994 Land Rover Wolf, welding a rack that had been blown apart during your last mission. It’s quite admirable how these vehicles can withstand anything coming their way and still stand strong after so many years.

How long are you going to stay strong? The sparks dance around you as you manipulate the welding torch, wishing there was a similar way to mend your scars and those you’ve hurt in the past with your decisions.

But these things are far more complex than welding metal; you can’t mend fractured relationships with mere tools. It takes understanding and empathy—qualities that seem foreign to those once close to you.

Or maybe they’re right, and you’re unworthy of their forgiveness…

You close the oxygen and fuel torch valves, lift your welding mask, and wait for the molten metal to cool. You assess the seams and sigh; it needs more work. You put the welding mask back on, reignite the torch, and continue.

As the heat emanates from the torch, glowing around your gloved hands, it suddenly flickers and sputters before its flame eventually dies out. Baffled, you lift the torch in your hands and shake it. You turn towards the valve, only to see Ghost standing beside it, holding the handle. He’s dressed in civilian clothes, though he still wears his mask and carries a rucksack over his shoulder.

“I was calling out for you, but you couldn’t hear me over the...” he trails off, pointing at the torch.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” you say through the mask, “this thing is a pain to fix.”

Ghost looks at the rack, then back at you. “Does it need to be fixed now?” He asks.

“It does.” You insist, not wanting to disclose the actual reason.

“Liar.”

Your eyebrows shoot up from behind the welding mask. “Excuse me?”

“You expect me to believe that while the rest of the team is on leave and doesn’t require that vehicle, you absolutely need to fix it.” He says.

You look at the torch and then back at him. “I must do it so it’s ready when you guys return.”

“When you guys return.” He repeats. “So, you’re not leaving.”

You forcefully turn to face him. “I am leaving.” You assert.

“Oh yeah?” He provokes you. “Where are you going?”

“None of your business, Lt.”

“See?” He says and lifts both hands, “You’re lying.”

You lower your head and throw the torch onto the roof. “What do you want me to say, huh?” You murmur, “What?”

“The truth,” he replies, “and take that bloody mask off while you’re at it.”

“Why should I take it off?” You sneer and point at his mask. “You wear yours all the time.”

“You can see my eyes, though, can’t you?” He explains and points to his face. He gestures with his head towards you. “Let me see yours,” he commands.

You roll your eyes and lift the mask. He removes his balaclava in return.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” He asks. “What exactly are you trying to fix?”

‘My relationship with my family,’ you think to yourself and feel your face getting warmer than before when the wielding flames were burning around you.

He stands there with one thumb tucked under the rucksack’s strip. He’s waiting for an answer—a proper, truthful answer.

“This is my home.” You whisper, shrugging and lowering your head.

“What about your family?” He asks, and you shake your head, tears start filling your eyes.

“Any friends?” He asks again, this time softer.

You give him another negative shake of the head, which causes the tears to run down your face. You quickly wipe your cheeks with your gloves.

He removes his rucksack from his shoulder, drops it to the ground and puts his hands on his waist.

“Have you tried talking to them?” He asks.

“I did,” you reply, “but they don’t want anything to do with me. I disgust them, and I’m not proud either...”

“Nobody’s proud.” He admits and puts one hand on the roof’s rack, “But somebody has to do what we do.”

You sniff and rub your nose. “See? That’s why I’m here, fixing that damn rack; somebody has to do it.” You explain. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Not necessarily.” He shrugs. “Not all of us will go see family or friends; Price is travelling to the Caribbean alone as we speak, and I’m off to Scotland.”

“With Soap?”

“Fuck no!” He yells, and a chuckle escapes his lips. “He has no idea I’m going there.”

Your lips curl up, and he returns your smile. He knocks on the vehicle’s roof twice and opens his mouth to say something, but he hesitates and stops. You decide to break the silence.

“Thank you for listening to me.” You whisper.

He bites his bottom lip and pats the roof once more.

“Wanna come with me?” He asks.

Your face warms up again but for a whole different reason.

“T-to Scotland?!” You ask, surprised.

Ghost scratches his cheek and nods. “Yeah,” he replies, “it’s a small cabin in the woods—it has a single bed, an outdoor toilet, and we’ll have to hunt for food. But it has a beautiful pond for swimming and plenty of hiking trails.”

“Wow, wow, wow, one bed?!” You shout, throwing your hands up, “That’s a bit too forward, don’t you think, Lt.?”

“Come on!” He smirks, “As if we haven’t experienced that before. We’ll make it work.”

You look at him, and he returns your gaze. You’re grateful for his offer, but doubt still lingers.

“Thank you, Lt.,” you reply, “but I need to finish that rack.”

“Bollocks!” He shouts and smiles. “How long will it take you?”

“That’s not what I mean-”

“How long?” He repeats.

“Simon..”

He drops the smile and looks you straight in the eyes.

“I’m serious,” he whispers.

“You’re just offering out of pity.” You speculate, and he throws his head up, letting out a sharp chuckle.

“Very bold of you to think I’d invite you out of mere pity.” He says. “I thought you also had plans; that’s why I didn’t offer before. I’m doing it because I found the opportunity.”

You look at him, contemplating his words, then shake your head.

“Thanks,” you say, “maybe next time.”

He picks up his rucksack and begins walking towards the garage’s exit.

“We’re leaving in an hour!” he shouts as he walks towards the door.

“Ghost! “

“Pack light!”

———————————————————————

Part 2 this way ->

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x y/n #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #ghost cod #ghost cod mw2 #cod ghost #ghost cod mwii #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic

[ladymunson]

One 18+

Fic summary: Bucky struggles with his feelings toward you, which he hides by pretending he doesn’t trust you. You get placed on a mission together where trust is essential.

A/N: sorry if this is all over the place, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything so this might be a jumbled mess. Enjoy though!

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f rec), fingering, language, unprotected p in v, kissing, heavy petting.

Word count: 5.3k

Not proofread and no beta (apologies for any mistakes)

I do NOT consent to my work being copied, translated or posted to any other platform.

Support content creators by REBLOGGING

Dividers made by the wonderful @firefly-graphics and thank you to @jijilaufeyson for helping me make a decision.

“Are you serious?!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, “I’ve been with SHIELD for three years, I can do this mission by myself. I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Yes, you do.” Bucky sneers, you turn your head towards him and glare.

“I hate to agree with Barnes but he’s right, I think you still need someone to keep an eye on you. Your ex was HYDRA after all.” Tony says, as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You throw your head back in frustration, they’re never going to forget about him.

Three years ago, you had come back to the apartment you shared with you boyfriend of two years to find the place swarming with HYDRA agents. He had been assigned to you to eventually recruit you to HYDRA after they had discovered your abilities.

You’d always been able to sense how someone was feeling by just being near them and eventually it had morphed into being able to influence their emotions. You could walk into a party or a meeting and know exactly who to look out for, whether it be because they were vulnerable or someone with ill intention.

It took immense concentration, effort and energy to be able to change someone’s emotions without touching them. Which you always try and avoid, you don’t want to change someone unintentionally, you could ruin things for them. So, you manage to keep your emotions in check most of the time, and don’t accidentally influence anyone.

The moment you realised that Russell was HYDRA, you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, but they weren’t going to let you go without a fight. Luckily, you’d befriended the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, when you’d met her and Wanda Maximoff one night at a local dive bar after Russ had blown you off again. One text to her and they’d both been at your door and helped you get away from the agents and back to the safety of Avengers Tower where you’d been subjected to an intense interrogation from Tony Stark, Cliff Barton and Bucky Barnes.

You’d thought that after all the years spent training and fighting by their sides, they would trust you by now, but obviously they don’t. Or more specifically; Bucky doesn’t. Cliff had decided you were trustworthy the first time he interrogated you and had told them as much, but Bucky wasn’t hearing it. So here you were three whole years later, still deemed untrustworthy by the Winter Soldier of all people.

“You know what…?” You start and Bucky smirks at you, adding more fuel to the fire. “I’m glad you’re doing the recon alone, gives me time to pack.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “This is my last mission, I’m done. I quit!” You turn on your heel and leave the conference room without another word.

Bucky groans and places both hands on the table in front of him, flesh beside vibranium, and hangs his head.

“Well that went well Barnes.” Tony says as he walks over to the door. “Looks like I have to do damage control.” He points at Bucky. “You find something on that recon and figure out a way to fix this. We can’t lose her.” And leaves the room, the glass door swinging back and forth.

Bucky makes a fist and slams it down on the table in front of him. “Fuck!”

You stalk down the hallway, heading to your room, walking past everyone and ignoring them all as they try talking to you. Natasha notices and follows you to your room, the doors are automated so you can’t even slam it to let out your frustration. So, you throw your self face down on your bed and scream into the comforter. Natasha just stands by the door, not saying anything and waits for you to finish your screaming.

“Feel better?” She asks as you flip yourself over to lay on your back.

“I can’t believe he still doesn’t trust me! Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, I quit.” You say without looking in her direction.

“You didn’t quit.” Natasha says as she walks over to join you on your bed.

“I did, straight to Bucky and Tony’s faces. Both of them looked shocked but I don’t care anymore. I’m fucking done!” You say as you jump off the bed and begin going through your closet and putting clothes in a suitcase.

The one thing you want, is to have Bucky’s trust…. Okay there’s something you want more than his trust, but you’re never going to get it. If he doesn’t trust you to be member of his team, there’s no way he’s going to trust you in any sort of relationship. So rather than trying anymore, you’ve picked the nuclear option. Serves him right!

“Buck…?” Steve says as he walks into the conference room where Bucky is still hunched over the table. “What’s going on?”

“What is wrong with me Steve? Why can’t I trust people?”

“You mean y/n?” Steve asks. Bucky groans. “Buck, I think it’s obvious to everyone except you and y/n that you like her.” Bucky looks up at Steve. “In a romantic way.”

Bucky stammers, “N... no I don’t.” Steve raises an eyebrow and smirks at Bucky.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since she joined SHEILD, hell you haven’t even on a date in a year. You like her.”

“You’re right Steve, I do. But… She quit.” Bucky says as his head hangs head.

“What did you do? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Fix it!” Steve says and leaves the room.

You and Bucky avoid each other for the next week, but to be fair he was out doing recon for the mission with Sam, who had been ribbing him about his feelings for you and pissing Bucky off. They had however, been able to meet the mark and started integrating themselves into his world. Your role as Bucky’s girl would come later, and you couldn’t help feeling like he was ruining your chances to prove yourself. You could’ve done the getting to know the mark and maybe brought Bucky or Sam or even Steve in as your man later on.

You hated to admit it but their getting to know him first was the better plan as not many women were in that world.

The mark. Carlo Vizzini is the head of an organised crime syndicate, who deals stolen HYDRA and SHIELD weapons and technology to other members of the syndicate. The goal is to find the times and locations of all the shipments being brought into the city, finding a list of buyers would be the icing on the cake but it isn’t a priority.

Bucky’s role is to present himself as someone new to the area who wants to become a member of the syndicate. FRIDAY has come up with an elaborate backstory for the two of you, created entire histories for you both which you’ve spent the last week reviewing and learning. Your backstory isn’t too far away from your real story, so it isn’t hard to memorise. The problem is pretending to be his girl. How can you possibly work together and be convincing if it’s obvious to everyone that he doesn’t trust you. There has to be a reason why Tony suggested Bucky for the mission and not Steve, you don’t know what it is, not that you care because you won’t be around once this mission is completed.

The story. You and Bucky have moved to New York from Michigan, where was a mid level HYDRA agent who oversaw a warehouse that contained new tech. The place had been breached while he was attending a HYDRA event with you, and they had fired him for allowing the breach to happen (An actual event orchestrated by Vizzini).

You had been together for five years at the point you’re at, and Tony had decided to add the fact that you were recently engaged. So, you had to wear an obnoxiously huge diamond on your left ring finger, which really bugged you. You had both been set up in a brownstone in Brooklyn, sleeping in separate rooms but having to appear all lovey dovey in case you were being watched.

Four weeks later.

Carlo Vizzini has invited Bucky and you to an event hosted at his mansion in the Hamptons, where you will both be introduced to other syndicate members. So, you need a spa day and shopping trip where you can buy a dress for the event and be seen out and about acting like this is a normal occurrence. Tony has also arranged for someone from Tiffany to show up at your house and lend you some jewellery for the event as you’re a simple teeny hoop earring kind of girl.

You find the perfect dress while browsing online so it’s very easy to go and get it without having to actually search in store. Scratch that, Natasha found the dress for you and told you it would be a crime if you didn’t wear it.

The idea is to infiltrate the syndicate event, find the intel and get out without your cover being blown until the weapons and tech have been recovered. If your covers can last beyond that until the entire syndicate has been taken down, that’s even better.

So, you’ve been to the salon and had your hair done and are heading back to the brownstone when you notice the dark SUV you spotted outside the mall had parked across the road and the occupant was crossing over to you. You play it off like you haven’t noticed, a civilian wouldn’t have and that’s who you are for the foreseeable future.

“Excuse me? Y/N” The stranger starts a conversation with you.

“Yes? You answer, turning to face the person who has spoken to you.

“I’m sorry, I work for someone your boyfriend is trying to get into business with and he’s asked me to check that you out.”

You chuckle, “Fiancé.” The stranger looks confused. “He’s my fiancé, not my boyfriend. Does Mr Vizzini think we haven’t done the same the same to him? Can’t be too careful these days, too many con men around, especially in New York.”

The stranger seems a little taken aback by your words, but continues, like his job is at stake. “I have a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind answering.”

You cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow. “Okay?”

He takes a picture out of his jacket and asks. “Who is this man?”

The picture is of Sam Wilson, the Falcon but you answer, “That is Sam, James’s brother, adopted of course. “

“And how long have you been together?”

“Five years, engaged for one. Are we done here? I have to get ready for a party.” You say and turn to the steps of your brownstone, heading up to your front door.

“One more question.” You turn to face him again. “Can I use your bathroom?” You sigh and open the door, directing him the right way and stay in the hallway so he doesn’t sneak anywhere else for a snoop. You hear the cistern flush and the squeak of the faucet, but you also hear the sound of the medicine cabinet being opened. Yep, he’s snooping. A few moments later he steps out of the bathroom and thanks you as he leaves your house.

You head straight into the kitchen and start the coffee machine; you then grab a detector out of the kitchen drawer and head into the bathroom. Using it to detect for a bug, which you find in the cupboard under the sink and leave it there. You have a get out your phone and send a message, one you’ve prearranged with Bucky, telling him about the bug.

‘Can’t wait to see your reaction when you see what I have on under my dress (followed) tonight. You’re not gonna be able to keep your cool or your hands (Suspicious) to yourself’

‘New lingerie?” (Bug?)

‘Maybe (yes), but you’re gonna have to wait and see’

‘Can’t wait’ (Understood)

You’re gonna have to start your charade earlier than anticipated and act like a real couple. I suppose there are worse things in life than pretending to be in a relationship with Bucky. You can’t deny that the dude is hot.

You pretend to use the bathroom by slowly pouring a bottle of water in the toilet, flushing and washing your hands. Then you head back into the kitchen to pour yourself a coffee.

Bucky arrives home a short while later, carrying a bouquet of roses (Sam’s idea) and gives you a kiss. You feel a little twinge in your stomach, feeling his lips on yours. His kiss is light and sweet.

Feeling your lips on his sends a thrill through Bucky, the feelings he’s been trying to hide for years bubbling to the surface and he has to stop himself deepening the kiss.

“There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen babe, I’m going to start getting ready. No peeking!” You say and head upstairs.

Bucky stays downstairs to drink a coffee and makes a few phone calls, all in character of course, before heading upstairs to get into his tux which takes only a few minutes. He’s back in the living room in less than ten minutes, waiting for you join him.

Bucky isn’t downstairs for very long before he hears your heels on the upper landing and stands up to greet you but at seeing you, his breath hitches in his throat.

(This is the dress you wear)

“You’re fucking stunning!” Bucky breathes out, causing you to grin.

“Not too bad yourself James.” You reply as you walk down the stairs and take his outstretched hand.

You arrive at the house in the Hamptons, impressed with the size of the place, hanging on to Bucky’s arm. The size of it is really impressive and you live in Avengers Tower.

Bucky thinks that he must thank Natasha for picking out that dress. He can’t keep his eyes off of you, that dress hugs your curves in all the right places. Bucky knows he needs to remain professional, but he really wants to get his hands on you and bring you pleasure like you’ve never known. He won’t have any problem pretending to be your lover tonight, because that’s the only thing he wants.

The party is in full swing an hour later, you’ve mingled with everyone, hanging on Bucky’s arm, acting like he’s your entire world. And to him, you are his world. It’s not acting, he’s crazy about you and has been since you met.

Another forty-five minutes go by with the both of you all over each other, giving you a reason to sneak off at some point, to find the intel you’re there to get.

Bucky’s arm is around your waist, holding you close to him as you leave the “ballroom” where the party is. You’re acting the part really well, practically hanging off of him, hands wandering. Walking down the hallway, still all over each other, opening doors looking for a place to have some privacy. Some rooms are all occupied, but the one you’re looking for is empty, Vizzini’s office. As soon as you’re in the room and you part ways, straight back to business, heading for his desk and turning on his computer. Plugging a USB drive you take off of your bracelet into it, and copying the files.

“Heads up Buck, Carlo is on his way and he’s not alone.” Sam says over comms. The last file copies just in time, and you attach the USB back to the bracelet and walk back around the desk.

“Shit!” Bucky says. “We’re gonna get caught!”

Your brain works quickly, “I have an idea, but you have to trust me.” You say as you switch the computer off.

Bucky nods. “Okay.” You pull him over to the wall beside the door and lean against it. You reach up under your dress and remove your underwear, Bucky’s eyes bulge out of his head. You throw your panties in the vicinity of the desk and reach down to undo Bucky’s pants. “What are you doing?!” He asks.

“I told you to trust me, I’ll get us out of this.” You unbutton his slacks and bunch up your skirt a little. “Lift me.” You instruct. Bucky catches on and lifts you, so your legs are wrapped around his waist. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close. “Go with it okay?” You say. Bucky gulps but nods and your lips meet in a searing kiss that makes you both moan out loud into each others' mouths. His hips begin to move instinctively, playing the part of a man who can’t keep his hands off of his girl. Bucky feels an usual sensation, kind of like a happiness he’s never felt before. As quick as he feels it, it goes away again.

You’re moaning loudly, alternating between passionate kisses and heavy breathing when Vizzini opens the door to his office and “catches” you, entering the room with two burly bodyguards. You gasp and fake panic.

“What the…?” He exclaims, his eyes bogging out of his head before he composes himself and continues. “This is my office, not a motel room!” You giggle. “This is not a laughing matter young lady, this is very inappropriate behaviour!” Bucky lifts you and places your heeled feet back on the floor and helps you rearrange your dress before tucking his shirt back into his slacks.

“We’re sorry Mr Vizzini, but when your girl looks like this, you have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself.” Bucky says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“But this is my office!” Vizzini says, exasperatedly.

“We’re sorry but other rooms were occupied!” You say with a smirk. Vizzini nods and the two bodyguards rush out of the room, they return moments later, both red faced.

Vizzini nods again and turns to you. “We will not mention this again and our meeting Tuesday will go ahead.” Vizzini says. Before sitting at his desk and making a choked sound. “I think these belong to you.” He says, pointing to the black lace panties that had landed on the keyboard of his computer. You giggle and retrieve them from his desk, biting your lip as you do.

“Sorry again!” You giggle as Bucky wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the office. You head back to the party, makes it seem less like obvious that you’re involved in espionage.

You both carry on playing the devoted couple, you’re hanging off of him like someone who can’t get enough of their man. Sneaking kisses here and there, selling the bit. Vizzini reappears a little while later and blushes when you and he make eye contact, you smirk back at him and pull Bucky in for a kiss. It’s after midnight by the time your car has pulled up outside and you’ve said your goodbyes.

You’re still all over each other as you get into the car, smiling and waving to everyone as the car pulls away. You keep the act up until you’re on your way out of the Hamptons and on the free way before you separate, in case you were followed. You stay close to each other just so you can snap back together quickly if you noticed someone watching you or for when you get back to the brownstone that is your “residence” at least until this mission is over.

You can smell Bucky’s cologne and it’s been invading your nostrils since you walked down the stairs before leaving in the early evening. It’s lingering on your skin from how you’ve been all over each other all night. You recognise it as Sauvage, one of your absolute favourites. You can’t remember Bucky ever wearing it before, he’s usually a Hugo Boss guy, which is another of your favourites. You momentarily let your control slip (not for the first time this evening) and imagine what it would be like, to have Bucky’s affections and let happiness bloom inside you, but you stop it as soon as you feel it reaching your face.

Bucky has put so much effort into hiding how he feels, he feels like he’s suffocating right now. He feels something again, like a happiness that he’s never felt before. But it disappeared as quickly as he feels it. The truth is drowning him and he needs to tell you how he feels, the thought actually terrifies him though. What if you reject him? What if you don’t feel the same way?

He needs to talk to Steve, find out how to approach this because he can’t lose you before he’s even had you. The car pulls up to your brownstone and you both get out, his arm around your shoulders as you head up the steps. “I need to go run a quick errand I’ll be back soon, wait up for me?” Bucky asks.

“Of course, baby, I’ll see you when you get back.” You reply with a kiss on the lips, smiling at him as you unlock the door and step inside, closing it behind yourself and leaning against the door with a sigh.

Bucky runs to the bodega on the corner and uses their pay phone, making sure that he’s concealed before dialling.

“Hello…?” Steve answers on the fourth ring, his voice scratchy with sleep.

“How do I tell her? After everything, what do I say?” Bucky’s words are rushed out, not even telling Steve that it’s him.

Steve lets out a sigh. “Buck, just say what you feel. Honestly is the best policy. She needs to know what you feel is real and not because of what you’re both living right now. Open up, I think she will be more open than you expect. I’m going back to sleep now.” Steve hangs up and Bucky is more determined than ever.

He grabs a bottle of wine and some other items so it looks like he had a legit reason to be in the bodega, pays and heads back to your brownstone.

He unlocks the door, you’re not in the living room when he gets back so he quickly takes off the jacket of his tux and goes into the kitchen and puts the items he bought away. Bucky rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up his arms, grabs two glasses and opens the wine then heads upstairs.

You’re in your bedroom, you’ve taken off your dress and are wearing a short black silk robe. He walks in with the wine and goes to speak but the words die in his throat. He takes a deep breath and closes the door, you raise an eyebrow but take one of the wine glasses off of him as he pours the red wine into it. He pours his own, puts the bottle down and takes a big gulp from his glass.

“We need to talk.” The words rush out with his breath.

“About what?” You reply.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky says, looking straight in your eyes. “I act like I don’t trust you because it’s easier than admitting the truth, but the truth is what you deserve so here goes…” You look at him expectantly. Bucky takes another deep breath before he continues. “I like you and I have since we met, and it scared me because I’ve never caught feelings that quickly before. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever caught feelings like I have for you, with anyone. I think I…” he stops himself.

“You think you what?” You nudge.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

You look into his eyes and the cerulean blue shows nothing but sincerity. He means it. He loves you. You contemplate telling him how you feel but actions speak louder than words.

You walk to Bucky, standing in front of him. You lick your lips he looks into your eyes, searching for hesitation and finding none. He reaches out for you, his hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you closer. His lips brush yours and your breath hitches in your throat. You look into each others eyes and you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him closer and planting a firm kiss on his lips.

Your lips feel like they were made to kiss his, they slot together perfectly, like two halves of a whole. He sighs contentedly as your lips open to allow his tongue access, your tongues dance together, caressing each other as your bodies get even closer.

Something snaps in Bucky and he pulls you towards him, walking backwards until he’s against the wall. He spins you around and pushes you against the wall, breaking the kiss and leaving you panting for breath.

“I need you to say that you want this, please say you want this. I can’t bear one more moment without touching you.” Bucky says breathlessly.

“I want it, I want you.” You say and reach out for him again. He kisses you sweetly, pulls back and sinks to his knees. He plants a kiss on the inside of your knee which makes you shudder. “Fuck!” You moan out as his mouth kisses up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your centre. Bucky lifts your robe and groans out loud, noticing that you never replaced the underwear you removed in Vizzini’s office. He grabs your knee and lifts your leg, hooking it over his shoulder and moving his mouth to your mound, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. “Holy shit!!” You moan out and grab Bucky’s head with one hand and scratching at the wall with the other.

Bucky groans at your taste and begins to practically make out with your pussy, his eyes glassed over as your juices drip down his chin. His uses two fingers on his flesh hand and teases your hole, gathering your slick until he can sink them into you, straight to the knuckle. He’s eating you with such fierce ferocity and fucking you with his fingers so passionately that your orgasm builds quickly. “I’m not gonna last much longer.. I’m gonna…” a long moan escapes your lips as your orgasm washes over you. You shudder and shake, struggling to breathe as you ride the waves of your climax, your cunt pulsating around his fingers.

Bucky’s oral ministrations slow as your orgasm dies down, and your breathing returns to normal. He removes his fingers and your leg from his shoulder, stands and unbuttons his shirt before removing it and using it to wipe his face. He stands there in a white vest, his face flushed and looks at you adoringly. Bucky undoes your robe and lets it fall off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bra. You reach out and undo his pants, pushing them down leaving him in just a pair of black boxers. You can see his erection straining the fabric, you want nothing more than to take what you can tell is an impressive member out of his underwear and show him how good your head game is. Bucky however has other ideas.

“Take off the bra, please. I need to see all of you.” He says, his eyes still glassy. You oblige and he groans out loud, he steps forward and pushes you against the wall again. He takes your left breast in his hand and massages gently, causing you to arch into him. He lowers his head and takes your nipple in his mouth, circling the tight bud with his tongue. Bucky stops and plants a searing kiss on your mouth, it’s sloppy, full of teeth and tongues. He pushes his underwear down as you’re kissing, depriving your view.

You still don’t get a glimpse as he grabs your ass and lifts you, your legs automatically going around his waist as you continue your assault on each others' mouths, it’s like you can’t get enough. Bucky breaks off the kiss as he looks into your eyes, the both of you are heavy breathing already. “Ready?” He asks, you nod. “Words baby.”

“Yes please!” You feel the head of his cock against your entrance, gathering as much of your creamy slick as he can. Before notching inside you, your eyes roll back in your head as he slides into your wet cunt, painstakingly slowly. He wants you to feel every inch, every vein, the way he throbs for you. Once he bottoms out in you, you release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your arms are around Bucky’s shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. You’ve never felt so full, so… complete. There’s a slight sting and burn, you can only assume but there’s a very good chance that he’s big and girthy.

Bucky plants a kiss on your lips before he begins to move, sliding out of you, almost completely before sinking into you again. The air is knocked from your lungs, you feel amazing as his cock slides in and out of you at an agonisingly slow pace. You moan out loud at the sensation.

“Faster!” You groan out, frustrated at how slow he’s fucking you.

“All in good time, I need to feel you.” Bucky moans out, but pretty soon he can’t just revel in the feeling. He needs to move faster, chasing his end. His hips snap up quicker and your moaning increases in volume, that heat in your belly building again with each thrust of his hips.

Bucky takes your mouth again, kissing you with all of him as he fucks into you with abandon. Your moans and tongues intertwined, your heavy breathing entering each others' mouths. Your hands carding through Bucky’s hair, tugging gently on the strands at the nape of his neck. Each time you do it makes his hips thrust harder and makes him grunt. But you have to stop after a minute as the heat blooming in your belly expands more until it can go no further.

It snaps and blooms upward and downward, sending heat to your toes and making you see white. Your climax makes your head roll back and you let out a scream of pleasure. There’s a new sensation as your orgasm hits, the feeling of white-hot heat spreading through him. Happiness, love, every positive feeling ever shoots through him and the spasms of your cunt around his cock, prematurely sets off his orgasm. He has wanted to draw another two or three from you before his end but he can’t hold it back.

He roars out, even the way your climax muffled your hearing you heard him. You’ve never heard anything like that, the sound was primal, animalistic. Your breathing slows and you lower your head to look at him, he’s staring back at you, looking completely fucked out, but so do you.

“You okay baby?” Bucky asks, breathing heavily and pulling your face towards him so he can kiss you. You can’t even speak, you just about nod before he lifts you off the wall and carries you over to the bed. He lays you down and pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, which makes you whine. He goes into your en suite and grabs a washcloth to clean you up, before joining you on the bed. He pulls you close and you snuggle into his warm body, your hand rests on his chest, just above his heart.

Happiness blooms in his chest once more, a content feeling. He realises that you’re projecting onto him with your abilities but you’re too out of it to realise. The feeling is one of pureness, a feeling of love. Bucky realises he has had this feeling before, many times, the first time was the day he met you. He really did feel love at first sight, he didn’t think it was possible but it happened. And now you both knew how the other felt, there’s no way he was going to go back to the way it was. And you’re not leaving SHIELD. Not unless he leaves with you, because from now on, you are one.

THE END?

Posted 23/04/2024

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #ladymunson #Bucky Barnes x female reader #18+ only

[heavenlyhischier]

𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 | 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 2.9k

summary: you get yourself in a bit of trouble when you feel as if you’d been neglected by your boyfriend.

warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ CONTENT BELOW— smut, unprotected sex (be responsible), fingering, choking, degradation, domination (sorta), public (they’re in a closet), brief hair pulling, jacks a lil jealous, NOT EDITED

note: i’m a little nervous to post this. but please let me know what you think!

The loud music enveloped you like an uncomfortable blanket as you watched Jack talk with his teammates, leaving you off in some booth with the other girlfriends. You couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed, and a tiny bit neglected, as your boyfriend essentially pawned you off to the other girls and hadn’t made a point to talk to you most of the night. He had made sure to grab you a drink every time he got one for himself, but other than that, it was as if he wasn’t even there with you, and you were not happy with that.

Of course, you understand that he just wants to spend time with his friends, but tonight was supposed to be a night for just the two of you. Jack had promised you a night where you stayed in and ended up tangled in his expensive sheets. With him just coming home from a roadie, it was something you were looking forward to, but that had been taken from you the second an impromptu and informal outing was suggested by one of the guys.

You had no problem agreeing to go along with him, but you hadn’t expected to be ignored all night. It made you angry, and the alcohol currently pumping through your veins did not help that at all. It added fuel to the already burning fire. You watched as he mingled with his friends, the laughter from the girls around you fading into background noise, and suddenly an idea struck your mind. If he was going to give all of his attention to his friends, so were you.

Your eyes scanned through the sea of people around you, hoping that one of the guys wasn’t with the others so you were able to get to them easier. If you approached the group around Jack, he’d assume you were going to him, and you were too pissed for that right now. Eventually, your eyes zeroed in on John as he sat at the bar with no one but strangers around him. Without another thought or word, you were throwing the rest of your drink back and heading towards the target.

Jack had noticed the second that you stood up, his gaze remaining on you as he watched you saunter up to the bar. He didn’t like you walking off by yourself, especially when it was this crowded, but he relaxed when you settled into the empty spot next to his teammate. With the comfort of knowing that you weren’t by yourself, he turns his attention to the other guys and falls back into the conversation with no knowledge of what was about to happen.

“Hey Johnny,” You call over the loud music, shifting in the chair so your knees are pressed against his thigh.

“Hey,” He chuckled, eyes briefly flitting down to your breasts as they nearly spilled out of your top, “You okay?”

You let out a quiet hum as you stick your bottom lip out and lean closer towards him, “No, Jack is ignoring me and I’m mad.”

The bartender placed John’s drink in front of him, and he muttered something about needing a water before he focused on you again. You were peering up at him, a playful glint in your eyes as you subtly lifted your chest for him to see it better, and he shakes his head in amusement. He quickly glanced towards the group of his teammates and others, immediately taking notice of Jack.

“You trying to get me in trouble,” John quirked his brow, taking a sip of his drink as he averted his gaze away from the narrowed eyes of his younger teammate.

“Of course not,” You gave him a cheeky, lopsided grin as you leaned so far forward that you had to grab onto John’s thigh in order to keep yourself from face planting into his lap.

John’s hands instinctively reached out to your arms, holding your body up as apologies tumbled from your lips. He had barely managed to get his own response out before a hand was grasping your wrist and tugging you into the crowd of people. John watched as you trailed behind Jack with wide, excited eyes and all he could do was let out a snort before he pushed himself off the bar, making a note to avoid the bathroom until the two of you returned.

The moment you felt a familiar hold grasp your wrist, you felt a twisted sense of excitement burst in your chest. Even with Jack’s back to you, you could see the angry expression slapped on his face, and it made warmth spread from your core. He’s dragging you down a hallway lined with doors, his hand checking the knobs until one of them finally opens and you’re being yanked inside. The door to the room slams shut behind you, and Jack is slamming you against the wall.

“What the fuck were you doing,” He seethes, his eyes hard and his jaw set as his hands encase your body.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You feign confusion, batting your eyelashes as you bring your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Don’t play dumb,” He scoffs as he pushes his chest into yours, “I’m going to ask you one more time. What the fuck we’re you doing?”

Your heart slams into your rib cage as you peer up at him, his blue eyes dark and narrowed as they bore into your own. His breath fans across your face and you can smell the faint scent of the beer he had been drinking, but it didn’t bother you. Anger was radiating off of him in waves, and a part of you felt slightly guilty for being the cause of it, but a much bigger part of you was glad that you had gotten a rise out of him. You got exactly what you wanted.

“You weren’t paying attention to me,” You shrugged, eyes flitting down to the ground as a slight sense of embarrassment crept along your skin as you realized how whiny you sounded.

Jack’s hand quickly flew to grasp your jaw, forcing your gaze back up to him as pushed himself further into you. Your pupils were blown with excitement as the wetness pooled between your legs. His tongue darts out of his mouth, swiping along his lips as he glances from your eyes down to your lips, but the furious expression is still clear on his face.

“I wasn’t paying attention to you, so you decided to shove your tits in my teammates face and almost face plant on his dick,” Jack scoffed, his grip tightening on your jaw.

“I just wanted your attention,” You admitted as your fingers twitched, aching to pull his face down to yours.

“So,” He cocked his head to the side, his other hand dipping to slide the material of your skirt up so his fingers could brush against the inside of your thigh, “Instead of talking to me, you decided to be a needy slut?”

Goosebumps trailed up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as his fingers stopped just before your center. Your body shivered underneath his touch, your breath catching in your throat as you thickly swallowed and tried to subtly shift down so he was brushing against your clothed heat. Jack’s eyes had a teasing glint in them as he watched you melt under him in the dimly lit closet, but he wasn’t going to give in just yet.

“You wanna act like a slut, showing yourself off like that to my friend, and think nothings gonna happen? You need a reminder of who you belong to,” His voice deepened, his fingers pushing the soft material of your panties to the side as he dragged his finger through your wetness.

“Maybe I do,” You breathed out, eyes squeezing shut in bliss.

“Look at me, baby,” He instructed, his fingers pressing into the skin of your cheeks, “You belong to me. You’re my girl, and I’m about to make sure everyone in this fucking bar knows it.”

He tilts your head back as he tauntingly rubs his finger between your folds, peppering open mouthed kisses and gentle bites to the column of your throat. His thumb brushes against your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your body as your hands find purchase on his biceps. Breathy whines and pleas tumble from your lips, begging him to give you more.

“So fuckin’ wet for me already,” He revels, his voice vibrating against your throat as his fingers tease at your enterance, “Barely touched you and you’re already fuckin’ soaked.”

“Jack, please,” You moan, fingernails digging into his skin.

“What, pretty girl,” He mocked as he slowly slid his finger inside of you, “You think you get what you want after what you did? You think this is gonna be easy for you? You want to act like a desperate slut, you’re gonna get treated like one.”

He slowly pumps his finger inside of you, his thumb applying pressure to the sensitive nub of nerves as he drops his head back down and attaches his lips to your neck. You let out a hiss as his teeth sink into the skin, your grip on his arm tightening as your sharp breath turns into a whine when he inserts a second digit.

“Oh my God,” You gasped as he curled his fingers and rubbed rhythmic circles on your clit.

Jack begins to relentlessly work his fingers inside of you as strangled screams echo around you. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, your legs nearly buckling underneath you. His name falls from your lips in a prayer as he watches you fall apart beneath him. Your neck is littered with evidence of him, your bottom lip plump and raw from your teeth.

“Go ahead, baby. Let them know who’s making you feel this good with just my fingers,” Jack smugly groaned as he moved his hand from your jaw to your neck, carefully squeezing the sides of it.

The coil in your stomach was becoming so tightly bound that stars dotted your vision and coherent thoughts fled your mind. Jack whispered praises into your ear, goading you to let go, to be as loud as you wanted as you came all over his fingers, and you did. Your legs shook underneath you as the knot in your stomach unraveled, mangled moans encasing Jack as he continued roughly thrusting his fingers inside of you.

Jack pulls your face to his own, smashing his lips on yours in a bruising kiss. He slowed his movements as your teeth clashed together and your arms looped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. His tongue slips into your mouth, deepening the kiss as he slides his hand from your neck to grasp at the hair on the back of your head. Your head is tugged backwards, breaking away from his mouth and you’re letting out a desperate whimper.

Jack brings his hand up to your face, eyes dark as he slides the two fingers that had just been inside of you into your mouth. It was pathetic, really, how easily you gave in to the action, but you would do anything he wanted you to when he looked at you like that. You maintained his gaze as your lips closed around his fingers, something you knew made him crazy.

“Good girl,” He mumbled, his cock straining in his pants as your tongue swirls around the digits.

Your hand snakes down between your body’s, dancing over the waistband of Jack’s pants as he pulls his fingers from your mouth. He keeps his eyes on your own as you fumble with the button on his jeans, his breath faltering when you manage to undo it. He gripped your wrist in his hand when you moved to slip your own into his boxers, making your eyes widen as if you’d been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

“Turn around,” He ordered, using his hold on your wrist to lift your back off the wall.

Jack barely gives you time to move yourself, using his leverage and grip to yank your body in the position he wanted. Your cheek was pressed against the cold paint on the wall, your breathing shaky in anticipation as Jack slips his hand underneath your skirt. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs and brushing the pads of his fingers along the skin of your thighs. Your body shivers at his touch as you jut your ass out, pushing it into his bulge.

“Fuck,” He grunted as his hands gripped your hips and shoved you into the wall, “Behave. I’m in control here.”

Your eyes flutter closed, your aching walls desperate to be wrapped around him. You hear him fumbling around with his jeans, the sound of the fabric being pulled down making the excitement bubbling in your chest only grow. Your hands grasp at the wall in front of you when you hear a slew of quiet curse words slip through his lips as he pumps himself in his hand. He digs his finger into the fleshy part of your left hip before he’s slowly dragging the tip of his dick through your folds.

“Jack,” You groan as he teases your entrance, an idea sparking in your mind, and you’re certain it’s going to get you in trouble, but you’re also certain it would be worth it.

“If you don’t do something, I think your teammate might be able to help me out,” You threw over your shoulder, casting Jack a wicked look.

Without a second thought or fleeting look, Jack is slamming into you, his right hand traveling up to grab at your throat, forcing your head back against his shoulder. Your screams are bouncing off the wall around you, the sharp pain between your legs being forgotten as Jack completely fills you. The feeling of him squeezing the sides of your neck only magnifies the way he feels inside of you, making your mind hazy and full of only him.

“You think you’re funny,” He harshly whispered, his lips pressed to the shell of your ear, “You think it’s cute? Saying shit like that? You think my teammates can fuck you like I do?”

Words die in your throat as Jack hits into you so deeply that each thrust lifts you slightly off the ground. His fingers are digging into your hip so hard that you know the skin is already starting to bruise, and you’re positive there are matching wounds on your neck from how harshly he was biting your neck moments prior. He was marking you, leaving physical reminders that you were his.

“C’mon, baby. You think John could fuck you like me,” Jack grunts as he squeezes the sides of your throat and mercilessly rams into you, “Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around my cock like that. You’re fuckin’ made for me, baby.”

All you managed to get out in response was a breathy whine in the form of his name, your head lolling into the crook of his neck. The ability to speak, to think even, was fleeting the harder he fucked you. You were grateful that he was behind you, because your legs had lost the strength to hold your own weight. Your hands were wandering from the wall, to his arms, to the back of his neck to find any sort of purchase to keep you grounded. However, the already frail knot in your stomach was becoming frayed and broken with each passing second.

“Jack,” You whimpered, his name being the only thing you could choke out.

“Go ahead, pretty girl. Cum all over my cock,” He smugly spoke into your ear, “Scream my name.”

Beads of sweat line Jack’s forehead, his hair sticking to the skin as he maintains the pace he knew sent you over the edge. Your pussy was still aching from his fingers, your walls clenching around his length as your orgasm tears through every nerve in your body. Your head becomes so dizzy that your mind is absent from your body for a fleeting moment, returning only as Jack is releasing himself inside of you.

Jack’s muttering falls to deaf ears as he drops his head to your shoulder. You’re panting, head empty and dizzy as Jack pulls out of you, turning to pull you into his chest. Your body is nearly limp against his own, but you force your arms to wrap around his neck and hold him close to you. His breathing matches your own as he cards his finger through your hair and peppers small kisses to your temple.

“Next time you want my attention, tell me,” He mutters against your forehead, “Or I’m going to bend you over then and there and show them who you belong to.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes smut #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine

[datgameguy]

God do I love how Ame and Suvi’s conflict is representative of the wider conflict between Witches and Wizards. (Long ass post incoming)

First lets look at the conflict in Chapter 2 about trusting Sly’s predictions of the conclave compared to other Citadel diviners. Witches are about community and connection. Ame trusted Sly because he had a connection to Wren, no other diviners in the Citadel had Wren’s trust that we know of just Sly. Wizards on the other hand put their faith in institutions and hierarchies. If Sly’s predictions are contradicted by those of several other diviners with more influence in the system, then his predictions should be discarded. (Also keep in mind that Sly was relegated to obscurity because his predictions were largely about things that didn’t line up with the Citadel’s priorities)

So we get tension at the end of Chapter 2 because Ame (through Wren) has a connection to and trusts more in Sly as an individual than the Citadel’s diviners as an institution. Suvi on the other hand hears Steel say that a group of diviners might have contrary evidence to what Sly predicted and instinctively puts her trust in the institution over the individual.

As a result Suvi and Steel dismiss Ame’s concerns about Sly’s predictions until Ame gets so worked up about the issue that she takes drastic action to return to Toma and prepare. Of course Suvi is right to be upset with the manor in which Ame leaves, it’s incredibly reckless and could have lead to several civilians (and Eursalon!!) getting injured or killed. However she fails to see her and Steel’s roles in pushing Ame into immediate action. Steel never took Ame seriously, and Suvi largely agreed with her.

And now we get to Episode 25 and Suvi’s scathing tirade against Ame.

A big theme of this arc seems to be how both Witches and Wizards look down on one another. Steel has her line about Witches seeing Wizards as “devious, paranoid, and buffoonish,” while Suvi blows up on Ame for “that smart ass tone about Wizards.”

And you know what they’re right. Witches do look down on Wizards.

I find myself wondering how Ame, Witch of the World’s Heart and the steward of humanity, could NOT look down on Wizards. The Wizards of the Citadel may be the brightest minds humanity has to offer, but they use those gifts to fuel a seemingly endless war with Ruve and Gouthmai (a war that threatens the lives and homes of Eursalon’s family). The Citadel seems to glorify violence (remember in Chapter 1 when Suvi proudly displayed that she spilled blood on behalf of the Citadel?). We also know from Kalaya that over time the Citadel went from what was essentially a huge university, to a homogeneous and militarized society.

Thats without even mentioning how Steel herself proves the Witches assessment of Wizards correct! Steel concocts a plan for Suvi that is devious in its intentions, paranoid in its secrecy, and buffoonish in how it could undermind the meeting of the Coven and cost both Ame and Suvi their lives if discovered. While Suvi is lecturing Ame on judging Wizards she has unknowingly agreed to a plan that proves all of her assumptions correct.

Suvi is probably my favorite character in this campaign. Aabria absolutely BRINGS IT every session. I’ve no doubt that many of the things listed in this post crossed her mind and were intentional. After all, the Citadel is a defining part of Suvi’s identity.

Wizards exist in a world that does not take them seriously. We’re 25 episodes in and spirits and witches alike have constantly referred to Wizards in pejorative terms. It’s not hard to see how someone like Suvi, born in the thick of the world of Wizards would cling to the Citadel as the lone institution of the world that advocates for Wizards. Because Suvi is a wizard she is preemptively judged by nearly every witch and spirit in the story. So of course she’ll judge them too.

After all, wouldn’t you?

#worlds beyond number #erika ishii #aabria iyengar #brennan lee mulligan #suvirin kedberiket #ame the witch

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Cloudburst

Enshittification isn’t inevitable: under different conditions and constraints, the old, good internet could have given way to a new, good internet. Enshittification is the result of specific policy choices: encouraging monopolies; enabling high-speed, digital shell games; and blocking interoperability.

First we allowed companies to buy up their competitors. Google is the shining example here: having made one good product (search), they then fielded an essentially unbroken string of in-house flops, but it didn’t matter, because they were able to buy their way to glory: video, mobile, ad-tech, server management, docs, navigation…They’re not Willy Wonka’s idea factory, they’re Rich Uncle Pennybags, making up for their lack of invention by buying out everyone else:

https://locusmag.com/2022/03/cory-doctorow-vertically-challenged/

But this acquisition-fueled growth isn’t unique to tech. Every administration since Reagan (but not Biden! more on this later) has chipped away at antitrust enforcement, so that every sector has undergone an orgy of mergers, from athletic shoes to sea freight, eyeglasses to pro wrestling:

https://www.whitehouse.gov/cea/written-materials/2021/07/09/the-importance-of-competition-for-the-american-economy/

But tech is different, because digital is flexible in a way that analog can never be. Tech companies can “twiddle” the back-ends of their clouds to change the rules of the business from moment to moment, in a high-speed shell-game that can make it impossible to know what kind of deal you’re getting:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/27/knob-jockeys/#bros-be-twiddlin

To make things worse, users are banned from twiddling. The thicket of rules we call IP ensure that twiddling is only done against users, never for them. Reverse-engineering, scraping, bots — these can all be blocked with legal threats and suits and even criminal sanctions, even if they’re being done for legitimate purposes:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Enhittification isn’t inevitable but if we let companies buy all their competitors, if we let them twiddle us with every hour that God sends, if we make it illegal to twiddle back in self-defense, we will get twiddled to death. When a company can operate without the discipline of competition, nor of privacy law, nor of labor law, nor of fair trading law, with the US government standing by to punish any rival who alters the logic of their service, then enshittification is the utterly foreseeable outcome.

To understand how our technology gets distorted by these policy choices, consider “The Cloud.” Once, “the cloud” was just a white-board glyph, a way to show that some part of a software’s logic would touch some commodified, fungible, interchangeable appendage of the internet. Today, “The Cloud” is a flashing warning sign, the harbinger of enshittification.

When your image-editing tools live on your computer, your files are yours. But once Adobe moves your software to The Cloud, your critical, labor-intensive, unrecreatable images are purely contingent. At at time, without notice, Adobe can twiddle the back end and literally steal the colors out of your own files:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/28/fade-to-black/#trust-the-process

The finance sector loves The Cloud. Add “The Cloud” to a product and profits (money you get for selling something) can turn into rents (money you get for owning something). Profits can be eroded by competition, but rents are evergreen:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

No wonder The Cloud has seeped into every corner of our lives. Remember your first iPod? Adding music to it was trivial: double click any music file to import it into iTunes, then plug in your iPod and presto, synched! Today, even sophisticated technology users struggle to “side load” files onto their mobile devices. Instead, the mobile duopoly — Apple and Google, who bought their way to mobile glory and have converged on the same rent-seeking business practices, down to the percentages they charge — want you to get your files from The Cloud, via their apps. This isn’t for technological reasons, it’s a business imperative: 30% of every transaction that involves an app gets creamed off by either Apple or Google in pure rents:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/red-team-blues-another-audiobook-that-amazon-wont-sell/posts/3788112

And yet, The Cloud is undeniably useful. Having your files synch across multiple devices, including your collaborators’ devices, with built-in tools for resolving conflicting changes, is amazing. Indeed, this feat is the holy grail of networked tools, because it’s how programmers write all the software we use, including software in The Cloud.

If you want to know how good a tool can be, just look at the tools that toolsmiths use. With “source control” — the software programmers use to collaboratively write software — we get a very different vision of how The Cloud could operate. Indeed, modern source control doesn’t use The Cloud at all. Programmers’ workflow doesn’t break if they can’t access the internet, and if the company that provides their source control servers goes away, it’s simplicity itself to move onto another server provider.

This isn’t The Cloud, it’s just “the cloud” — that whiteboard glyph from the days of the old, good internet — freely interchangeable, eminently fungible, disposable and replaceable. For a tool like git, Github is just one possible synchronization point among many, all of which have a workflow whereby programmers’ computers automatically make local copies of all relevant data and periodically lob it back up to one or more servers, resolving conflicting edits through a process that is also largely automated.

There’s a name for this model: it’s called “Local First” computing, which is computing that starts from the presumption that the user and their device is the most important element of the system. Networked servers are dumb pipes and dumb storage, a nice-to-have that fails gracefully when it’s not available.

The data structures of source-code are among the most complicated formats we have; if we can do this for code, we can do it for spreadsheets, word-processing files, slide-decks, even edit-decision-lists for video and audio projects. If local-first computing can work for programmers writing code, it can work for the programs those programmers write.

Local-first computing is experiencing a renaissance. Writing for Wired, Gregory Barber traces the history of the movement, starting with the French computer scientist Marc Shapiro, who helped develop the theory of “Conflict-Free Replicated Data” — a way to synchronize data after multiple people edit it — two decades ago:

https://www.wired.com/story/the-cloud-is-a-prison-can-the-local-first-software-movement-set-us-free/

Shapiro and his co-author Nuno Preguiça envisioned CFRD as the building block of a new generation of P2P collaboration tools that weren’t exactly serverless, but which also didn’t rely on servers as the lynchpin of their operation. They published a technical paper that, while exiting, was largely drowned out by the release of GoogleDocs (based on technology built by a company that Google bought, not something Google made in-house).

Shapiro and Preguiça’s work got fresh interest with the 2019 publication of “Local-First Software: You Own Your Data, in spite of the Cloud,” a viral whitepaper-cum-manifesto from a quartet of computer scientists associated with Cambridge University and Ink and Switch, a self-described “industrial research lab”:

https://www.inkandswitch.com/local-first/static/local-first.pdf

The paper describes how its authors — Martin Kleppmann, Adam Wiggins, Peter van Hardenberg and Mark McGranaghan — prototyped and tested a bunch of simple local-first collaboration tools built on CFRD algorithms, with the goal of “network optional…seamless collaboration.” The results are impressive, if nascent. Conflicting edits were simpler to resolve than the authors anticipated, and users found URLs to be a good, intuitive way of sharing documents. The biggest hurdles are relatively minor, like managing large amounts of change-data associated with shared files.

Just as importantly, the paper makes the case for why you’d want to switch to local-first computing. The Cloud is not reliable. Companies like Evernote don’t last forever — they can disappear in an eyeblink, and take your data with them:

https://www.theverge.com/2023/7/9/23789012/evernote-layoff-us-staff-bending-spoons-note-taking-app

Google isn’t likely to disappear any time soon, but Google is a graduate of the Darth Vader MBA program (“I have altered the deal, pray I don’t alter it any further”) and notorious for shuttering its products, even beloved ones like Google Reader:

https://www.theverge.com/23778253/google-reader-death-2013-rss-social

And while the authors don’t mention it, Google is also prone to simply kicking people off all its services, costing them their phone numbers, email addresses, photos, document archives and more:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/22/allopathic-risk/#snitches-get-stitches

There is enormous enthusiasm among developers for local-first application design, which is only natural. After all, companies that use The Cloud go to great lengths to make it just “the cloud,” using containerization to simplify hopping from one cloud provider to another in a bid to stave off lock-in from their cloud providers and the enshittification that inevitably follows.

The nimbleness of containerization acts as a disciplining force on cloud providers when they deal with their business customers: disciplined by the threat of losing money, cloud companies are incentivized to treat those customers better. The companies we deal with as end-users know exactly how bad it gets when a tech company can impose high switching costs on you and then turn the screws until things are almost-but-not-quite so bad that you bolt for the doors. They devote fantastic effort to making sure that never happens to them — and that they can always do that to you.

Interoperability — the ability to leave one service for another — is technology’s secret weapon, the thing that ensures that users can turn The Cloud into “the cloud,” a humble whiteboard glyph that you can erase and redraw whenever it suits you. It’s the greatest hedge we have against enshittification, so small wonder that Big Tech has spent decades using interop to clobber their competitors, and lobbying to make it illegal to use interop against them:

https://locusmag.com/2019/01/cory-doctorow-disruption-for-thee-but-not-for-me/

Getting interop back is a hard slog, but it’s also our best shot at creating a new, good internet that lives up the promise of the old, good internet. In my next book, The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation (Verso Books, Sept 5), I set out a program fro disenshittifying the internet:

https://www.versobooks.com/products/3035-the-internet-con

The book is up for pre-order on Kickstarter now, along with an independent, DRM-free audiobooks (DRM-free media is the content-layer equivalent of containerized services — you can move them into or out of any app you want):

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

Meanwhile, Lina Khan, the FTC and the DoJ Antitrust Division are taking steps to halt the economic side of enshittification, publishing new merger guidelines that will ban the kind of anticompetitive merger that let Big Tech buy its way to glory:

https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2023/07/biden-administration-corporate-merger-antitrust-guidelines/674779/

The internet doesn’t have to be enshittified, and it’s not too late to disenshittify it. Indeed — the same forces that enshittified the internet — monopoly mergers, a privacy and labor free-for-all, prohibitions on user-side twiddling — have enshittified everything from cars to powered wheelchairs. Not only should we fight enshittification — we must.

Back my anti-enshittification Kickstarter here!

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad- free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/03/there-is-no-cloud/#only-other-peoples-computers

Image: Drahtlos (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Motherboard_Intel_386.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

—

cdsessums (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Monsoon_Season_Flagstaff_AZ_clouds_storm.jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #web3 #darth vader mba #conflict-free replicated data #CRDT #computer science #saas #Mark McGranaghan #Adam Wiggins #evernote #git #local-first computing #the cloud #cloud computing #enshittification #technological self-determination #Martin Kleppmann #Peter van Hardenberg

[berryhobii]

More (kth x reader) a Drabble

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x black!female!reader

Warnings: smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), cowgirl position, I don’t mention it but they’re doing it in a chair, squirting, mentions of edging, mentions of orgasm denial, orgasms(f receiving), spanking

A/N: AHHHHHH! I’ve been so so busy with work and my baby that I’ve barely had time to write or proofread or post. I’ve also been in such a rut with my WIPs that I’ve been a little unmotivated but I’m sure I’ll be out of it soon🤕please send me your good energy. This is just a little drabble; it’s actually my Distracted Driver couple. If you haven’t read that, it’s okay. Essentially, Tae and reader are amateur p*rn stars. I’m thinking of just making a bunch of little drabbles for them. I scrap a ton of smut scenes that I can easily turn into straight up p*rn content for them. I’m working on it along with lots of new ideas so please bear/bare(?) with me. Happy Holidays to those who celebrate and have a wonderful day to those who don’t. Stay safe 🩵🩵I don’t describe reader in this so imagine them however you want!

~

Oh fuck baby!”

The loud clapping and wet noises could be heard down the block. With every bounce, your ass met his thighs in a deep bass similar to a gunshot. Paired with your gasps of air and moans, it sounded like you two were straight out of a porno.

Coincidentally, that’s just what the camera was filming so you must be doing a good job.

Taehyung’s hands were gripping you so hard that it hurt, your ass already on fire from the series of slaps he’s been landing on it all night. The tingling of the pain only fueled your pleasure further.

Your own hands were digging into his broad shoulders, manicured nails leaving thin scratch marks across his tan back.

“This pussy feels so good. So fucking tight.” He growled in your ear, his baritone sending sparks down your back. It only made more wetness leak from your pussy; sticky honey like arousal dripping down his cock and onto his thighs. Everything was so wet and hot and pulsing, temperature climbing and your pleasure beginning to crest.

His huge cock was pushing in and out of your velvet walls, being constricted by the tightness of your heat. You felt so much wetter than usual for some reason. Maybe it was the fact he had edged you for close to 30 minutes, pulling out right before you came, only to push back inside and do it all over again. You’d be getting your lick back for that later.

But now, he was struggling to hold back, his own orgasm settling in his balls.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” You cried, back arching as you began throwing yourself back harder on his cock. He groaned, slapping your ass again, own hips lifting to meet yours. The head of his cock brushed against the sweet spot deep inside of you again and again, cervix practically begging for his cum.

“Do it.” A slap to your ass, mouth sucking another hickey onto your throat. You sat up, eyes locking with his hooded ones. Fuck, he looked so sexy with his sweaty hair and the deep furrow of his brows. The clench of his jaw letting you know he was close. “Cum all over my cock.”

And you did. Hard enough for you to squirt. You screamed, lifting yourself from his cock to give the camera a full view of your wet pussy. Your legs shook from the force of your orgasm, Taehyung holding your ass cheeks apart to capture the moment.

You had barely come down from the body tingling orgasm before your pussy was begging for another one.

You leaned an arm back to fit his throbbing cock back inside your walls with a whisper of, “more.”

#bts #bts x black reader #bts smut #bts imagines #taehyung smut #bts fic

[crypticcozycorner]

Why ace and aro activism is still needed (Cw//aphobia + one mention of transphobia which is marked so that part can be skipped)

These are all things I’ve seen said recently about ace or aro people. Many of these come from Yasmin Beniots Instagram account.

- people still believe that being aro or ace is equivalent to being a sociopath

-Still considered a medical disorder in many places

-In many places it is not legally recognized as a romantic or sexual orientation, meaning it can be harder to charge aphobia fueled hate crimes as hate crimes and conversion therapy for asexuals isn’t recognized as a form of conversion therapy

-the idea that an ace or aro person can be “fixed” by someone is still very prevalent

-ace and aro people are still called groomers (just look at some of the responses to Jaden animations coming out)

-people still believe it just straight up doesn’t exist

-religion is used to look down upon us as “our purpose in life is to get married and reproduce”

-people believe that we’re making it up because we “have no game/cant pull”

-the idea that aroallo people are predators or other things along those lines (especially towards aroallo men)

-people still believe that heteroromantic asexuals and aromantic heterosexuals are “just straight”

-people still believe that asexuality and aromantism are the same thing and erase the identities of aroallos and alloaces

-(Cw// transphobia) and one of the wildest theories I’ve seen popping up lately, which I literally can’t even put into words so I’ll just put a comment from Yasmin Benoit that an aphobe left: “After 9 years of pushing ‘affirmative care’ Stonewall needs a way of explaining young people who have no libido and cannot function sexually” or another comment which says “Frankenstein gender medicine damages or destroys sexual function. That’s why asexuality needs to be normalized 🚩”. Essentially they’re saying that transitioning ruins one’s ability to be sexual and that asexuality was an excuse made up to hide that.

People who deny the existence of aphobia are ignorant. I have had people message my mom saying she’s going to hell for supporting me. I’ve had queerphobes with speakers and microphones follow me and my friends around at pride screaming at us that we’re going to hell. I’ve had people time and time again try to erase my identity, telling me I haven’t found the right one, and other things like that. Just because the discrimination we face isn’t the same as, for example, what a lesbian may face doesn’t mean our discrimination doesn’t exist.

#aphobia #arophobia #acephobia #aroacephobia #aroace #aromantic #asexual #crypticcozy #alloace #aroallo

[borzoilover69]

Something that gets me everytime I think about the harlenglishes is how incredibly harsh they are on themselves, incredibly self critical. The simple fact that the majority of the fandom writes them off as silly little guys does a number on me.  I want you to take a look at these two pieces of text. Both of them are from where Jade and Jake are having a moment, and using proxies to voice their thoughts. Notice how they react to themself being upset. ( Jade is herself, Dirk is Jakes apparition of Dirk, aka BGD ) 

Jade and Jake put others over themselves and think they’re seeing the bigger picture when they’re not. They’re incredibly isolated kids trying to appear relatively normal. They’re incredibly judgmental, and therefore feel judged, and put up massive barriers and walls to hide it all from their friends and subsequently first time readers because they never directly mention or call attention to it!  They break down incredibly messily because they bottle it all up to deal with in private later!

Jake is so incredibly hard on himself, and so is Jade. They grit their teeth and smile because they feel incredibly selfish for having messy feeling moments. And the thing is, they can be incredibly selfish! They are looking out constantly for what’s best for everyone, and sometimes it’s not what the others think!  That’s what’s so tragic, is because when they do break down so messily, they beat themselves up for it. Look here: 

These are both screenshots of them telling, no, demanding that they toughen up and do what “needs to be done”. But finding themself unable to because they’re so overcome with emotion. It’s especially interesting in Jakes case because he uses his best friend as a proxy to do a mental fucking cartwheel and hype himself up but also to cut through his bullcrap with the one friend that he believes saw him truly, that he believed understood himself, which is why in part BGD is so uncomfy for him! Because it’s just the uncomfortable truths or thoughts he wouldn’t admit to himself in his own skin! Jake is a master of deception, and this is just one of his outlets!

I’m never getting over how terrible BGD was to Jake while he was breaking down, or how Jade yelled and screamed at herself when she was reincarnated as a sprite. A lot of people use BGD as a merit to point out that DirkJake is abusive, since he’s one of the splinters we see Jake actively talk to, but what they don’t get is that BGD is just Jake thinking to himself “What would Dirk think? What would Dirk say?” and believing it so truly that it can on instance become realities! Dirk isn’t really like this, he may be a bit clingy, but Jake acknowledges that in conversation with Roxy, and is moreso concerned rather than upset about it. In the prison cell with BGD, it’s just Jake berating himself under the guise of what his best friend on what he SHOULD do, versus what he wants to do. Because Jake questions himself constantly. 

Jake very much relies on social awareness even though he can be pretty bad at it. So if he believes his friends have an image of him, he will be daunted by how to live up to it, and if he believes his friends hate him, his thoughts and BGD will reflect that. Hes essentially created a remote echo chamber to amplify his own thoughts, sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. 

The harlenglishes just can’t cope with knowing. They minimise their messy and not proper emotions to try and be the bigger person and do what’s right, even if it’s incredibly unhealthy, and it just ends up in a big knot of feeling incredibly overcome by emotions, and also incredibly frustrated they can’t live up to their own expectations and thus looping to fueling hte emotions. Jake is incredibly self aware and immensely critical for just being a kid. Jade is incredibly self aware and is hard on herself ever since her grandfather died and I think Jake was too in a way.

#homestuck #hom3stuck #homestuck meta #jake english #jade harley #jade hs #jake hs #everyday i wake up #sobs and punches wall #borzoi talks #borzoi meta

[literaryavenger]

Meet the Guardians of the Galaxy - part 2

Summary: The Avengers of the Galaxy continue to bond.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N. Language. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny. Mentions of sex.

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: I was trying something and this came out. I hope you like it, lol.

Meet The Guardians Of The Galaxy

Masterlist

It’s been a couple of days since the Guardians of the Galaxy landed on the Avengers compound’s lawn, Thor was still nowhere to be seen but you all seemed to be getting along just fine, going as far as having girls and boys night last night.

The guys showed Drax, Quill and Rocket how they like to spend a night of testosterone fueled competition while playing video games in the common room, eating junk food and drinking.

While you and the girls showed Gamora, Nebula and Mantis how you like to relax having a night of spa treatments, drinking wine and eating anything you wanted, gossiping and essentially making fun of the boys’ attitudes the guys had.

Groot started the night with the guys but apparently they started getting too rough and loud for his liking so he came to your room where all the girls were and enjoyed the rest of the night watching sappy movies and getting beauty treatments with you.

You couldn’t resist taking a picture when he wrapped himself with a napkin, rubbing some of the mud mask all over his face sloppily to look like you guys all wearing robes, making you all laugh and coo at how adorable he looked.

Everybody had a late night, barely getting any sleep, but having a lot of fun.

Now you’re all in the common room nursing various degrees of hangovers that even Bucky and Steve couldn’t escape after Tony pulled out Thor’s stash of Asgardian mead.

"All I’m saying is, aliens don’t seem to have too much regard for lawn maintenance." Tony says, making you all groan.

You were all tired of hearing him bitch about the lawn and you were definitely much too sleep deprived for it at the moment.

"Tony, I love you, but I really need you to shut the fuck up." Steve mumbles, not being used to hangovers, making us all gasp in surprise.

"Language, Rogers!" you say and he groans, throwing his head back while the rest of you laugh.

"Are you ever gonna drop that, Mrs Barnes?" you roll your eyes athim.

You and Bucky are nowhere near marriage but the blonde super soldier always has the time of his life teasing you about it.

"Aww, are you mad that I stole your boyfriend?" you fake pout at him.

"You know, Bucky and I were very happy before you came along." He fake glares at you, the rest of the team enjoying the banter they were used to at this point.

"I missed the part where that’s my problem, Captain Dumbass." You say smirking, but before Steve cam answer Quill cut in.

"Wow, she’s kind of awful when she’s hungover." you glare at him while everyone else laughs.

"She’s kind of awful when she’s not hungover, she’s just pretending for your benefit." Steve comments.

"You know what, Rogers?" Clint interrupts you before you can threaten Steve.

"Oh c’mon you know he’s right. Bucky for sure rubbed some of his grumpiness on you." you know they’re right so what’s the point in trying to deny.

You shrug ready to change the subject when Natasha chooses to contribute to the conversation.

"He definitely rubbed something on her." you almost choke on air.

"Natasha!" you hiss, struggling to keep your own face straight while all the girls start giggling.

"What? I didn’t say anything…" she says innocently and you can’t keep the laughter in anymore so you join them.

The guys all look at you like you’re crazy except for Tony, the genius playboy is definitely not as innocent as the rest of them.

"I don’t understand what’s going on." Peter says and the other guys nod in agreement.

You don’t exactly know how to explain it, not really wanting to discuss anything close to your sex life with Bucky with the whole group, so you look to the girls for help.

"It appears that terran women have rituals of honesty during their 'girls night's" Gamora offers, but it only leaves the guys even more confused, so Wanda takes it upon herself to say a simpler explanation "Girls talk about everything. Everything."

Slowly all the guys come to understand what she means, various degrees of embarrassment on their faces, while you and the girls laugh at their reactions.

"Wait, everything everything?" Tony questions, looking directly at Pepper.

"Every. Single. Thing." she says, maintaining eye contact, and the rest of you can't stop snickering at the guys’ dumbfounded faces.

While the guys continue their questioning to the other girls, Bucky leans in to whisper in your ear.

"So you’ve been telling the girls about our sex life, doll? I might have to punish you for that..." he can tell you’re trying hard to keep a straight face as you refuse to turn around to face him so he keeps teasing you.

"and you’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?" your eyes widen a bit before your expression goes back to neutral, but you're betrayed by the intense red your cheeks are turning, which does not go unnoticed.

"What’s wrong with you, why is your face all red?" Rocket almost yells, bringing the whole room’s attention on you, making you blush even more and giggle when Groot climbs on your shoulder to examine your cheek more closely.

"It’s nothing." you try to sound casual.

"And what’s wrong with you?" Rocket says and you hear Steve groaning before he answers.

He carefully chooses his words and addresses you and Bucky directly "Just so you know, I can hear Bucky whispering…"

your eyes snap up to him and you can see his face is turning red too, ever the innocent one and never ready to hear his best friend's dirty talk.

You look at Bucky who looks more amused at the situation than embarrassed and you let out a groan of your own before gettin up, Groot still on your shoulder.

"Where are you going, baby?" Bucky asks, stopping the others’ questioning of Steve about what he heard, all of them confused and amused, their attention back on you.

"I need more coffee. And a bath in holy water." you add looking at the girls, all of them knowing how dirty Bucky’s mouth can get, then you make your way to the kitchen.

"I’ll go make sure she’s alright." Bucky gets up and follows you, leaving the guys to try and make the girls let them in on the joke.

You put Groot down on the counter while starting the coffee machine and, while you wait, he makes you laugh by running around trying to catch a fly while making the most adorable little screams of battle.

You feel two arms wrap around your waist and Bucky’s head on your shoulder.

"You know Steve’s gonna think we’re fucking in the kitchen, right?" you say without looking away from Groot, making Bucky laugh.

"I just wanted to check on you." he says, giving you a kiss on the cheek. You turn around in his arms and wrap your arms around his neck.

"I’m okay." you kiss him on the lips "Steve may be traumatized now, though." this time you laugh with him.

"Do you really tell the girls everything?" he asks when your laughter dies down.

"I do, they’re my best friends. Also the world should know you fuck me hard and good." he smirks and is about to kiss you again when you hear someone clear their throat from the door.

You both turn towards the sound and see Steve standing there, face getting redder than Tony’s suit.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me." you groan once more, hiding your face in Bucky’s chest while he smirks at Steve.

"I just wanted some water, but I’ll come back later..." Steve says and starts to turn away, but turns back around and says "Bravo, Buc-"

"No! out!" you cut in before he can finish while pointing at him then the door and he goes through it laughing.

You look back up at Bucky and the cheeky idiot is laughing too, you try to glare at him but can’t keep a straight face, especially when a little yell suddenly reminds you that Groot is there with you.

You turn around just in time to see him jump down the counter, his little hands over what you assume are his ears, running back into the living room while screaming his little heart out.

Yep, looks like Steve is not the only innocent baby you and Bucky traumatized today.

#bucky barnes #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x you #sam wilson #steve rogers #clint barton #tony stark #peter parker #natasha romanoff #avengers x platonic!reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #guardians of the galaxy x reader #marvel fanfiction #bruce banner #guardians of the galaxy #drax the destroyer #peter quill #gamora #rocket raccoon #baby groot #mantis #nebula

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not responding to someone in rp?

📝 <- to recognize

Also disclaimer this is about to be a very low stakes problem about a very small rp server between friends. If you don’t care then don’t read it’s fine 😂 I just want opinions over something I have some anxiety about. Everyone is in the same age range of about 24-26

Ok, so: basically what it says on the tin, I’m in a small rp server that has nothing to do with fandoms it’s just OCs, mostly dnd stuff. It’s just between me and a couple friends, there has been no serious drama whatsoever and it’s very nice!

We recently added a new member (I’ll call him Blue) who doesn’t have a lot of characters yet, but the handful he does have are… well. Practically all the same character. They have different backstories but all the same personality, which is to say they have none.

Every character of his is entirely neutral all the time, but not as some sort of comedy bit, just as… they are all very Prim And Proper, very intelligent, very unwilling to react to anything at all. No strong emotions about anything even when faced with something extreme like a villain or even a non-evil crazy event. We like to have fun and throw wild dangerous or just funny circumstances at our characters, yet his characters essentially always go 😐 “Well. That happened. Anyways.” And brush it all off… unless Blue thinks he can be The Savior of the day. But if he can’t just shut down the whole event, then his characters go back to being totally checked out and uncaring about any of it. He explains this saying that they’re all used to this kind of thing (though their backstories do say otherwise) and one of them is a god so he especially doesn’t need to react to things.

None of this is really the end of the world, it just makes interacting with his characters very difficult for me and a few others. For instance if I throw a villain in for the day, it’s… kinda hard to actually pose a threat when you have a handful of characters just standing there reacting like they’re on The Office. Similarly it’s harder to form emotional connections between characters if one oc pours their heart out and the other says “Well I’m sorry for your experiences” and brings nothing else to the table. There have been a couple instances as well where my friends and I worry that we’ve upset Blue with how our characters react, but like, if one of ours is a naturally rude and antagonistic person, they are going to be rude and antagonistic. Nobody else has a problem with this bc we all do it for variety and sometimes it’s fun to have a little oc drama! But Blue will have his characters react in a slightly guilt trippy way and then just go silent, sometimes explaining or even complaining out of character that their oc was Just Joking or similar. He hasn’t expressed being upset to us and nobody has had an argument about any of this, but the vibes end up feeling… off.

All of this just makes it hard to interact with Blue’s characters. They’re all The Same, they don’t really involve themselves with the rp in a way that garners reaction, and personally I overthink and worry about possibly upsetting him since we’ve all seen how weird things feel after 1 Antagonist Character says 1 Antagonistic Thing. So if I respond to his characters, I tend to respond more blandly than I do with others. Similarly, he has taken to proposing hypothetical ideas about rp and character interaction and then when I don’t immediately have a good response, he tags me and asks how my characters would react to his. I try my best to respond, really, but because there’s nothing there to bounce off of… it’s hard to come up with a good response! And if the response isn’t good enough Blue seems disappointed with it and just drops the whole idea altogether. This is mainly what fuels my anxiety about it, thinking that I’m not doing good enough while also not being given anything good to work with either.

To be clear I do not think he is being an asshole, At least not on purpose. I think there’s a lot of factors that could explain this and it’s honestly not a crime to just not be “good” at rp. What I’m wanting opinions on is should I be trying harder?? I worry that my effort has been affected by a growing distaste for his characters. He’s a lovely person, I have no beef with him lol, but I think it’s gotten clear that I respond more enthusiastically to the others. It’s not intentional, but it’s what happens bc I feel bad ignoring him altogether especially when he tags me specifically for a reaction. I also don’t know if the classic “omfg just communicate” response is very applicable because honestly I think I WOULD be the asshole for messaging him and saying “hey it’s not that I don’t like you it’s just that your characters are not fun to interact with, fix that!” Even in nicer terms than that haha cause in general offering unsolicited constructive criticism even with the kindest intentions is seen as a bad move.

So… AITA for not responding to Blue as much or as enthusiastically as I do for my other friends? Should I be faking it til I make it or does it not need to be an issue until it becomes one?

TLDR: new member of a small rp server joined and all his characters seem to have no personality and are all the same Perfect Intellectual type. There hasn’t been any serious problem but it is hard to interact with them and I am tending to lean toward bland responses bc I don’t feel like I have anything to work with here. Should I be trying harder or is it not a problem until it’s brought up?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[zndr315-blog]

I finished reading Roxxon Presents: Thor and immediately wanted to throw up, which is a testament to Al Ewing’s excellent writing, but this page in particular stood out to me for a couple of reasons.

I think this page has a few more layers past being just a callout on big businesses putting out art, or “content”, about the evils of big business… I doubt Al Ewing would keep writing marvel comics if that were case.

For starters, if we go with the theory that this comic is partially meant to parody the MCU and it’s take on Thor, then this could be seen as reflective of how the MCU started to stop taking itself seriously and have all of it’s characters treat the very world they inhabit like a joke, to act like all they’re battles have no real stakes, and constantly make jokes when they’re supposed to be protecting civilians. People often criticize the MCU for all too often serving as propaganda for the military industrial complex (I thought the MCU was moving away from that aspect for a while, only for phase 4 to double down on it) and I think a big reason that this aspect usually slips past people’s heads is because the MCU rarely ever takes itself or the sociopolitical themes it tries to tackle seriously, and instead opts to focus on quips and jokes.

Secondly… him referring to the comic as an in-universe work of self parody, an in-universe joke at the people at the bottom of society’s expense… really brings to mind how an entire generation was radicalized by jokes and memes. For the longest time, fascists and fascist-leaning trolls on the internet cloaked their beliefs under the guise of ‘humor’ and ‘irony”. Right up until they had grown their base large enough to actually impact the real world.

With that in mind… I can’t help but wonder how certain people in the marvel universe are reacting to this comic that is supposedly a work of self-parody. I imagine all the people who put thin blue line Punisher skulls on their cars all looked at the page where The Executioner calls down an army of Roxxon crowd control drones to electrocute some protesters (in the interest of good taste, I am not going to post that page) would all applaud that scene on social media, and then immediately walk that back by pointing out the scene where The Roxxin’ “Thor” advertises some Roxxon engine oil and hot sauce scented body gel and saying “what are you getting so upset about? It’s just a joke!” I also imagine Dario himself has his fair amount of simps who act exactly like the Elon Musk fandom in real life and still continue to do so even after the Xemnu debacle from The Immortal Hulk. I imagine they’d all look at the page at the end of the comic where Dario essentially bribes The Roxxin’ “Thor” into doing his bidding and say: “wow! If only the real Thor was more like this!” (Side note, maybe all the right-wingers’ and fascists’ craving for a more right-wing, authoritarian version of Thor, ignited by this very comic, is what Amora is actually using to fuel her spell?)

This whole comic feels like it was ripped straight out of The Boys and, in this case, I mean that as a positive.

#thor #thor odinson #marvel #media analysis #the immortal thor #roxxon presents: thor #dario agger #the minotaur #roxxon #al ewing #comics #comic books #thor comics #marvel comics

[ryuichirou]

any sebaciel headcanons so far?

Anon! I hope you’re still waiting, because it took me a long time…as always lol

For some reason it was a bit difficult for me to write this one, mostly because a lot of headcanons/thoughts that I had were actually just… random pieces of canon trivia that Toboso herself mentioned at some point lol like the fact that Ciel’s cheeks are just like cat’s soft paws for Sebastian and stuff.

But still, I managed to write something. I hope it’s a fun read…

Despite them seemingly keeping their master-servant sense distance whenever they’re around others, there are some people that catch the tension between them. They don’t even tend to talk to each other when Ciel is having guests around, but when a person knows, they know. For example, Lau catches these things quite easily, even though he forgets about it the moment he steps out of the room.

Speaking of Lau… the real reason why Sebastian didn’t get rid of that tiny dress that Lau brought for Ciel is that he really wouldn’t mind seeing his young master wearing it; he believed there would still be a nice opportunity for it. Which is actually a big deal, because Sebastian seems to be quite picky when it comes to things that Ciel wears, so he would’ve gotten rid of it immediately if it didn’t fit his own taste.

Sebastian absolutely adores roleplay: his entire butler shtick is essentially just a very long roleplay session. So, whenever he gets to put on a new identity/any type of disguise for a mission, he gets pretty excited; it’s always one of his favourite parts of any mission. So the fact that Ciel is pretty good at roleplaying too and catches his cues quite easily and plays along so well is also something that he really likes about him. Sebastian has seen and served so many people, but this is the first time he actually got himself a decent playmate, who is quite good at playing the role of sweet and innocent child while also being quite a cruel calculating boy.

And although Sebastian always minds his distance while performing his butler duties (not to ruin the aesthetic and all), he could allow himself more freedom when playing other roles. So there could be some situations in which Ciel would look at Sebastian in a “how dare you” way, with Sebastian smiling, because “well it’s more believable that way, isn’t it?”. He knows that Ciel will have to play along.

Both of them are aware that there is this vague line that they could cross if they wanted to at any moment. It would be weird to call it a “romantic” line because none of them have any romantic feelings toward each other: Sebastian is incapable of feeling it; Ciel would choke himself before admitting to having any emotional dependence on Sebastian. Because he knows that the moment he’ll start even considering anything, the demon wins. Even though, when it comes to their contract, it’s not like it changes anything….

Sebastian really enjoys the fact that Ciel is conflicted about it though. He likes playing with him, teasing him and hinting at things way more than if Ciel would act openly affectionate with him. In fact, it would be quite bothersome and even annoying to Sebastian. So this “will they won’t they” that seemingly exists between them only fuels the situation to spiral further without giving it any resolution.

Although it’s not impossible for them to cross this line, but it’ll only happen if Sebastian decides that it would be amusing and would fuel Ciel’s further decent into darkness. He wouldn’t do anything too openly, but the teasing and the talking and the touching and overall situation would lead to Ciel being so frustrated that he would end up deciding that he actually wants to cross this line. What difference does it make? He’s going to get eaten by Sebastian at some point anyway…

Sebastian teases Ciel a lot, especially if the two are together. He especially likes to take everything that Ciels says literally, because he knows that Ciel actually hates that he stops when he’s being told to stop. And the best thing is – Ciel can’t even complain about it or be mad, because Sebastian is being respectful and caring and obeys his orders. As if he’s not doing it just to piss Ciel off.

Ironically, Ciel doesn’t get triggered by Sebastian’s touch. Maybe it’s due to the overall feel of his hands being so different to what Ciel experienced years ago, maybe it’s because it’s Sebastian who isn’t even human, but the sensations he gets are overwhelmingly pleasant. Almost scarily pleasant, like the opposite side of the spectrum.

They would have at least one talk about how often Sebastian gets to touch his masters like this. It’s not like Ciel is interested or that he cares about anything at all regarding Sebastian, but for some reason he would still ask. And Sebastian would honestly answer that this actually happens quite often, although not every single time. He would also add that he hopes that this doesn’t sour his young master’s mood or make him jealous, with a smile so wide and wicked, that Ciel would  instantly regret asking him.

#replies #sebaciel #headcanons

[sencity]

yan! botanist content? i am eating this up, we are so well-fed. but dare i present, yan! botanist x entomologist darling?

hear me out… as a botanist, he does happen to dabble in fieldwork from time to time. prior to meeting you, he’s always gone out alone, but that won’t be necessary anymore, not with you around of course. and, oh, how perfect it is that you too, partake in nature research.

conducting fieldwork with him is so wonderful! he’s so knowledgeable, and surprisingly even a bit in entomology; plants and insects are crucial for their environment and one another, you know. he’s showing you all the beautiful flora, even informing you about their histories and roles in the ecosystem. while you’re studying the insects, he offers to help catch them in jars for you! no matter how many bug bites he gets, it’s all worth it for you. and how his heart swells with absolute love and adoration when you patch him up with bandaids and kisses afterwards.

nothing beats bonding over two people’s passions that co-exist perfectly–– especially when you’re in a grand field, of tall grass and little visibility, miles and miles away from any type of civilization; no one to bother the both of you, no one to take you away from him, just you two.

RAHH this man has awakened something in me…

you don’t understand how i’m tittering in my covers reading ts. my mind FLOODED with ideas bro. just… let me add onto this thought. your mind is WONDROUS.

nightmare fuel: none, unfortunately. except me not proofreading.

sen’s statement(s): link to the rest of my yandere!stinkers, let alone the yandere!botanist because why not?

it was a given that mother nature had finally answered his prayers; of course his love interest has an adoration towards insects! could life get any better!? insects are essential to plant life and vice versa. it’s the universe telling you that he needs you, and you need him! the two of you will soon flourish under each other’s love, why wouldn’t you become the butterfly to his pistil?

although you’ve forgotten about the times when he’d try to act cool for you or a little uncharacteristically, he surely goes out of his way to assist you on your projects. whether it’s collecting blister beetles in jars for your research despite the seething pain emerging in his palms or leading you into secluded fields to chase butterflies with wings that match the colors of your guys’ eyes, he’ll be there! still, you do tend to question his motives when he asks what a certain flower reminds you of and comes up with some poetic, philosophical answer to impress you. jeez, save it for the yandere!poet…

“is that right? hm, i’d assume that wisteria reminds you of your dreams… or that little starfish you’re so fond of—”

“the ochre sea star! yes, they’re nowhere near as perfect as you, but they’re lovely—oh! or plums and grapes! i love purple!”

there’s the sencha you love, the one who rambles about his simplistic passions and dislikes since he’s easily (dis)pleased. you’re here to listen to them all, even if they’re a little irrational and aimless like stick bugs…

goddamn, he can’t stand stick bugs.

even though he alters his personality to your liking sometimes (and fails horrifically, of course) he sometimes manages to appeal to your interest… by being himself. there was a time when you fixated on fireflies, wanting to study the patterns and language of their little light bulbs or what genetics causes some lightning bugs to not glow. sencha of course ran with this information and wanted to help to his best ability by insisting on you to sit your pretty self on the porch while he fetches a few for your research. you weren’t too fond of the idea of him doing the job for you, also potentially taking the fun out of it, but you allowed it this once…

you were going to go retrieve him since it seemed that he disappeared, but it just took him so long to collect so many. you would think he used the jar method again but decided that that’s not enough to truly get you to believe that he loves you, therefore he attracted fireflies with his bare hands…

…by coating his hands and forearms with sugar water in order to please the ravenous lightning bugs. primary his sticky hands were coated with tiny gleaming lights since he started off catching them with his palms, and it’s only natural for the rest of them to follow in pursuit.

“i uh, made a few friends along the way…?” he would titter unsurely as his arms expressed ethereality. he was referring to the random moths or flies that were also interested in the treacly treat, but that was the last thing you were fixated on since you were ordering him to not move so you could take pictures…

the two of you were truly an inseparable duo, a nature fusion much like leaf bugs or orchid mantises…

while we’re on the subject of orchids, the flower is one the both of you are very fond of, even though the both of you are suffering from a silly case of synesthesia.

when y/n hears the word orchid she sees a fuzzy yellow that resembles a bumble bee ever so faultlessly. she could never forget how he managed to get his hands on a bee orchid just to prove that his field of study compliments yours greatly. his point has only been proven even more when you giddily bring up that “orchid mantises” exist somewhere in the wild…

when sencha reads the word orchid, your honey-imbued lips drip onto his taste buds which awakens his sweet tooth and sends him into a sugar rush. you were a gift from mother nature, handcrafted by the goddess psyche herself. he even grew different species of orchids just because he cares for the flower so much!

normally you would adulate the bed of vibrant orchids and laborious pollinators that sprawled across the fields while pondering about those simple facts, whereas he would adulate you like how the tides adore the sand. it’s very hard to wrap around that the two of you were a match-made in heaven; he was sure to make you his once the fireflies began to coruscate …

#☪︎︎ sen’s submission #sencity #this idea is so fucking sweet #damn sure wanted to make a drabble #tw: yandere #yandere #yandere concept #yandere headcanons #obsessive yandere #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x willing reader #yandere x you #yandere ocs #male yandere #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere male #yandere male x reader #i fucking LOVE MY MOOTS #yandere x y/n #yandere character #yandere love #clingy yandere #obsessive love #nsft concept #yandere content #yandere community #yandere core

[makingspiritualityreal]

Rahu in our Charts is Where we have a Tendency to Rebel at all Costs, Sometimes Without a Cause.

The reasons for this is that we incarnate with a Rahu that is the sum total of repression of everything that has gone unresolved in our family line. So we feel almost an ancestral disgust towards traditionally performing in this area. However, on our way to break karmic patterns we make a lot of mistakes, can waste resources such as time, people or money, or we can act plain stupid just to feel like we’re in control or to show up an invisible enemy. Most often, it’s our parents.

The area of repression can be showed through our Ketu. The sister house, expressed in the opposite Rahu is our outlet, but it’s the explosive Ketu that implodes from all the lack we feel in that area, that fuels Rahu towards its drastic actions. By the time we reach Rahu we feel cold, because the suffering of Ketu has been so intense it burned us out.

That’s why Saturn is Rahu’s best friend. There is a reason Saturn exalts in a Rahu ruled Nakshatra. Saturn adds a practical edge to our rebellion and gives it a worthy cause. It helps us mature and realise that rebelling ultimately only makes sense as long as it’s healthy and helps us gain something. Essentially, we should only break away from certain patterns because they’re not good for us and because they stifle us, not because we want to throw a tantrum. It’s ok to agree with someone if they have a point that is logical and valid to us.

Moreover, our bad experiences and our rebellion should be used to help people through helping ourselves. That’s why a positively used Rahu is an activist, setting people free from negative limitations and inventing groundbreaking social solutions that end oppression in all possible areas…depending on the activists’ Rahu house and sign, of course.

#astrology #vedic astrology #jyotish #vedic astro observations #vedic astro notes #saturn #rahu #north node

[taizi]

run, boy, run

chapter four

natsume yuujinchou pairing: one-sided kitanishi word count: 3k summary: Nishimura has a cursed mark on his arm, a crush on Natsume’s famous idol friend, and a whole lot of brand new problems that start and end with the taboo circle on his arm. full circle au

read on ao3

x

Satoru’s first clue that something is off is the black town car with dark-tinted windows parked a few blocks down from his house.

Most of his neighbors don’t have cars, and the ones who do have little boxy, fuel-efficient numbers that live under tarps in driveways until it’s time for the bi-monthly grocery haul.

The unfamiliar vehicle makes his lizard brain stir uneasily, but Satoru has been having a hard time lately distinguishing between things he should actually be worried about and things the curse is twisting all out of proportion.

Since no one else on the street is outwardly panicking, he takes that as his cue to keep walking.  

Satoru’s second clue is what gives him real pause. Fish, perched on his shoulder, is making a noise he’s never heard from her before. It’s a subvocal thing, low and rumbling, and her beady eyes are fixed without wavering on the car.

Or something near the car.

Automatically, his hand drifts toward his pocket, and the cellphone there that’s practically bursting with the names of people who made him swear to reach out to them if he was in trouble.

Kiyoshi was still home when I left, Satoru thinks. I could just turn around.

But mom was still home, too, and if he walked back through the front door at the same time he should have been walking into homeroom, she would blow a fuse.

The thought of her tirade causes his arm to twinge sharply, and he drops his hand away from his pocket. Be normal, he scolds himself. You promised Kitamoto you’d be normal. Normal people don’t worry about random cars.

Since he first discovered Taki’s circle, Satoru has seen dozens of yokai around town, big and small, mostly minding their own business. And their own business had very little to do with Satoru unless he stuck his nose in it. If there’s a spirit over there on the other end of the street, one that’s causing Fish to bait her wings and grumble, then there’s a good chance it doesn’t have anything to do with Satoru anyway.

At the very least, he’s certain that it isn’t the monster that cursed him. He and Fish have an agreed-upon signal for that, which is essentially just Fish screeching like a klaxon until help shows up.

Still, Satoru pivots on his heel and cuts down a side-street. He’ll take the long way to school today. He doesn’t want to go near that car.

“We keep meeting in alleys,” an unfortunately familiar voice says cheerfully, just before a hand lands on his shoulder.

Fish takes off in a flurry of feathers, a distant speck in the sky before anyone could even think about catching her. The first thing Satoru feels is relief that she’s gone. Right on the heels of relief comes a cool wash of dread, and a dull, steady ache in his arm. He turns, already knowing who he’ll find behind him.

As easily as if they’re old friends, Matoba Seiji smiles.

#

At school, Nishimura’s friends are lingering by the entrance, getting more and more restless with every second. When the bell rings, and they should all be in class, detention is the last thing on their minds.

Over the last week, one or more of them has always been there to walk with Nishimura before and after school, but he insisted and they agreed to let the constant guard taper off a bit.

He’s been doing a lot better since their war council with Natori, but the curse is still active and present in his mind, and they can see it when it goes to work on him. When Nishimura starts to think his friends don’t trust him to do something as simple as make it to school on his own, and his arm blooms with vivid, obscene color, the only thing they can do is assure him. Tell him of course that isn’t true, they do trust him, and if he thinks he doesn’t need an entourage, then they’ll be willing to back off a bit and give it a try. Anything that might give him a foothold to wrestle control of his mind back.

But he was supposed to be here nearly ten minutes ago, even accounting for the way he constantly gets distracted by cute dogs and weird bugs and talkative neighbors. Tsuji, who lives a few houses down from Nishimura, once famously dragged him into homeroom by the elbow and announced, “I bumped into him in the combini this morning, holding the bento he bought for lunch in his hands, and he told me he forgot about school until he saw my uniform.” It was hilarious at the time.

“Sensei left early to make sure he got here,” Natsume says tersely. “Something’s wrong.”

“I’m calling Kiyoshi-niisan,” Kitamoto says, phone already pressed to his ear.  

Taki, who has been pacing in restless circles since Nishimura didn’t show up on time, says, “He can’t see. He doesn’t have the circle anymore. What if—”

“Don’t,” Tanuma says, not unkindly, but more like he can’t bear to listen to her bolt down that frightening rabbit hole. “I’m sure he’s okay. Fish would have told us if he wasn’t.”

At about that moment, in an example of the most absurdly perfect timing any bird has ever had, an agitated magpie flutters down onto the closed gate and raises the alarm.

#

Sitting in the backseat of the town car, his arms folded tightly across his front to hide the way his hands are trembling, the unconscious Nyanko-sensei a heavy, boneless weight in his lap, Satoru says, as firmly as he can manage, “I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do,” Matoba replies easily. “Your little pet is proof of that.”

Even more glad now that Fish seized the opportunity to bolt at the first sign of trouble, Satoru insists, “She’s just a bird. There’s a ton of birds just like her around here. Natsume’s mom has crows in her garden.”

He doesn’t know how long he’ll get away with playing dumb—when Nyanko-sensei scared Matoba off that night after the visit with Natori, the lucky cat spoke in front of them both. There’s no way this guy forgot about that. But Satoru has no idea what is safe to discuss with this boogeyman Natsume was so careful to warn him about, so he defaults to bald-faced denial.  

Something darts across Matoba’s face that looks like curiosity when Satoru mentions Touko, there and gone again in a split-second.

“This conversation would go a lot smoother if you’d do me the courtesy of honesty,” is what Matoba says, as if he’s been the epitome of good manners this entire time.  

The half of Satoru’s brain that isn’t spinning in anxious circles puffs up in indignation.  

“Courtesy? You’re the one who abducted me on my way to school!”

Rather than offense, Matoba seems to take delight in his attitude. He’s weirdly likable, for all that he’s also very dangerous and powerful, if Natsume and Nyanko-sensei are to be believed. It creates a sense of conflict in Satoru’s head, because part of him wants to sit here and argue with the friendly, conversational man, while another, much larger part wants to run far, far away.

That larger part wins, because Satoru is literally in the backseat of a strange car, alone, with his phone sitting out of reach on the dashboard up front.

He wonders, for a brief, hysterical moment, if anyone is missing him yet.  

“I can see why you and Natsume are friends,” Matoba says, as if he’s a proud relative and Natsume is a charming, if ornery, little cousin. “And I can see that you know more than you are willing to share with me. Is that loyalty, I wonder? Or ignorance?” He leans in, his long hair falling over his shoulder, and says, “Are you being kept in the dark?”

Satoru presses his arms tighter against his middle, trying to think past the hurthurthurt that pulses through the curse mark. He’s glad he wore long sleeves today.

He’s beginning to see shadows again, even here in the well-lit interior of the car. It’s a fog that creeps into his head, past reason and logic and common sense. Sometimes Satoru can feel it starting to happen, his mind turning against him as dark sympathetic magic makes him doubt, but there’s nothing he can do when that happens except cling to what he knows and hope it’s enough.  

He remembers, against better judgement, being made to wash the seeing circle away. Natori’s face frowning at him from across the table, even though he got what he wanted.

Was he being kept in the dark?

No, Satoru thinks. It was for his own good. His friends were worried.

Were they? Then where are they? If they’re so worried about him, why aren’t they here?

They don’t know where I am, Satoru thinks wildly. No one knows where I am.

He doesn’t know where he is, either. They’ve been driving for what feels like a long time, and the windows are too dark to see through unless he presses his face against the glass and he won’t do that while Matoba is watching him. Nyanko-sensei, Natsume’s unofficial shiki and glorified babysitter, is sprawled across Satoru’s knees in an unnatural sleep and dead to the world.

He’s on his own.

“I’m sure you must have heard stories about me,” the man says, almost gently. He’s still smiling. “But really, I’m not so bad. I just want to have a talk, and then I’ll drop you off wherever you want.”

Rattled, Satoru dares to glance sidelong at him. Matoba’s smile widens.

“All you have to do is tell me the truth,” he goes on. “Just level with me. Are your eyes the same as mine? Do you see the same strange world that I do? Is that why you and Natsume are such good friends, hm? A common perspective? It would explain a lot.”

Something about that remark wriggles past everything else, a slippery eel darting through muddy water. It’s the first clear-headed thought Satoru manages to grasp.

“What’s that mean?” he asks. “What does it have to do with us being friends?”

“Well, historically, Natsume doesn’t have the best track record, does he?” Matoba’s voice is rich with laughter. It isn’t mean-spirited, but it rubs Satoru wrong anyway. “I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“I don’t,” Satoru blurts. The pain in his arm recedes and the shadows peel away—he’s still afraid, but it’s the normal sort of fear now. It’s not the influence of a monster, leaning on him until he can’t see or think or hear straight. And it’s eclipsed, easily, by irritation. “He’s my friend because he’s funny and sarcastic and nice to everybody and a sore loser at trivia games. I like him. Our whole class likes him. It has nothing to do with whatever you’re talking about.”

That curiosity flicks across Matoba’s expression again, like something Satoru told him is brand-new information, completely unheard of.

It doesn’t do anything to curb his knowing smile which, in Satoru’s opinion, has become less likable and more punchable with every second Matoba talks about Natsume like he actually knows anything about him.

“And even if he did see your strange world, or whatever, what does that have to do with me? And what are you accomplishing by kidnapping me?”

“I would hardly call it kidnapping—”

“There are so many other things he has to worry about without worrying about you,” Satoru goes on, warming up to the subject. “You just show up and make his life difficult and threaten him and drag him into dangerous situations like he doesn’t endanger himself enough as it is! Yeah, he told me stories about you, because you scare him.”

For the first time, Matoba seems genuinely thrown-off.

“No I don’t,” the man says. “He’s well aware that there are better things to be afraid of.”

Satoru knows that much, too. Being cursed by a yokai on the edge of the woods was equally as scary as being forced into a car by a stranger. Maybe those two situations were entirely different, but the way Satoru’s heart thundered in his chest, the way he wondered for a brutally honest split-second if he’d ever see his brother or his friends again, was exactly the same.

“That's the point,” Satoru says belligerently, aware that he’s digging his own grave, “Natsume knows a monster when he sees one.”

Matoba studies him with keen eyes. His smirk is a quiet, thoughtful thing now.

“One last question,” he says. Lifting a pale, elegant hand, he points to the other side of the partition, at the burly figure in the driver’s seat. “What do you think of that guy?”

Burying anxious fingers in Nyanko-sensei’s thick fur, Satoru darts a glance that way, trying to find the trap in Matoba’s words. The driver, for his part, doesn’t turn to look back or acknowledge Matoba in any way.

“I don’t know,” Satoru says defensively. “He hasn’t said anything this whole time.”

Matoba’s smile widens, as pleased as a cat with a canary.

“That’s fair,” he replies, and gestures with his hand. The driver catches the signal somehow and twirls the steering wheel, pulling the car around in a neat U-turn. “A deal’s a deal. Where am I taking you?”

Home, Satoru wants to say, except mom will be there, and she’ll be angry if he shows up when he’s not supposed to. Kitamoto, is his very next thought, filled with wanting, so he says, “School. Even though I’ll definitely have detention thanks to you.”

“Studious,” Matoba says with a laugh. “I admire that.”

Rubbing one of Nyanko-sensei’s velvety ears between his fingers, Satoru asks, “When will sensei wake up?”

“I’d give it another hour,” Matoba replies, his tone reassuring. “He’s a little too eager with his teeth when it’s just the two of us, so I figured it was best to be extra cautious.”

Secretly, Satoru wishes Nyanko-sensei had managed to get one good bite in. Then maybe Matoba would have slightly less to be smug about.

Something strikes the windshield, and Satoru flinches in surprise. The car continues gliding smoothly forward, but another tiny projectile joins the first, and then another after that. Satoru stares as all the windows on the car are plastered with scraps of paper until the vehicle is entirely covered.

The interior is dim now, cave-like, and Satoru clutches Nyanko-sensei closer.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Matoba says, making another gesture. The car slows and comes to a stop. He sounds unbothered, unlocking the doors with the button panel by his arm. “They’re here for you.”

When the door lock springs up, Satoru grapples for the handle and wrenches it open before Matoba can change his mind. He all but topples out of the car, Natsume’s cat clutched in the crook of one arm.

By the time he’s managed to find his feet, large hands are on his shoulders, guiding him upright. He jerks back reflexively, whipping his head around, but it’s not another stranger. It’s Natori, and the breath goes out of Satoru’s lungs in a rush of relief. He doesn’t even question how the man is standing here in front of him, the last place on earth a famous actor should be.

“Easy,” the man says, studying Satoru’s face carefully. “Are you hurt?”

Satoru shakes his head. For all that he was running his mouth a moment ago, he’s got nothing to say now. He lets himself be pushed behind Natori’s back as Natori makes himself a wall between Satoru and Matoba.

“There is such a thing,” Natori grits out, glaring murder at his shadowy counterpart, “as going too far.”

“You’re always one step ahead of me, Shuuichi-kun,” Matoba replies genially. “It seems like every remarkable child I manage to find has already been snatched up by the Natori clan.”

“This child has a family willing to press charges,” Natori bites back. “If you don’t think his aunt would take you to court and drag your name through dirt until she won, that’s only because you haven’t met her yet.”

Kitamoto’s mom, Satoru’s Auntie Mikako, is a force of nature. If she got wind of this, it’s over for Matoba already.

But he remembers Natsume’s warnings, how he talked about Matoba’s connections and his powerful family, and he doesn’t want the Kitamotos anywhere near him.

“Natori-dono,” someone behind Satoru says.  

Jerking his head, as if shaking off a collar someone tried to put around his neck, Natori says, “This is far from over. But for now, get lost.”

“It’s always such a pleasure,” Matoba laughs, and leans out the door Satoru left hanging ajar to pass Satoru’s phone to Natori. After snapping the door shut smartly, he rolls down the window, because of course he has something else to say. Satoru tenses when Matoba looks at him, and Natori makes a furious sound, but the strange man only adds in parting, “Natsume is lucky to have a friend like you. I hope he keeps you close.”

From anyone else, it might have been a threat. From Matoba, it sounds genuine. For the life of him, Satoru can’t get a bead on this guy at all.

When the car pulls away, Natori says, “Follow. Make sure he leaves,” which Satoru assumes is a command to his shiki. He’s too busy staring down at the lucky cat in his arms and keeping his breathing steady to worry overmuch about what’s going on around him now.

That is, until Natori touches his chin, a gentle instruction to lift his head. The man looks angry and exhausted and worried, his eyes sharp behind his glasses.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he demands.

“I’m sure,” Satoru replies. “All he did was talk to me. He asked me questions about Natsume and the guy driving the car and then said he’d drop me off at school. He’s really weird.”

Natori’s face does something strange. “There wasn’t a guy driving the car.”

Satoru frowns at him, pushed well past his personal threshold of stuff he’s willing to put up with. He’s over today. He’s going to have to deal with an unexplained absence from school and his mom’s temper when she finds out, but that sounds like tomorrow’s problem. All he wants right now is his bird and his best friend and a stack of comfort movies and sugary snacks, and maybe his brother, too. He doesn’t think that’s too much to ask for.

“It’s not like it was driving itself,” he mutters.

“No,” Natori says slowly. “You misunderstood me. There wasn’t a human driving the car.”

Satoru blinks at him. As he watches, a little black tattoo crawls up the side of Natori’s face, coming to rest on his forehead.

“Oh,” he says dumbly.

Belatedly, he looks over his shoulder, and finds Hiiragi lingering behind him, where she’s probably been this whole time. She’s a little hazy around the edges, like he needs to squint to see her properly, but she’s there.

“You’re not wearing the circle?” Natori asks in a quiet voice. He sounds like he already knows the answer.

Satoru shakes his head, wide-eyed.

“Guess my eyes adjusted,” he whispers.

#natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #nishimura satoru #matoba seiji #natori shuuichi #my writing #full circle #natsuyuu fic #and it only took me 2 years :)