By Ilonaramona

Like Real People Do

This is part of lokisoul 1k writing challenge. It was inspired by Hozier’s Like Real People Do.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: light swearing, pure fluff

Word Count: 4914 (I can’t wrote short things.)

Summary: Loki has just started dating the reader and he is struggling to express how much he cares about her. So he goes to Thor for help. It does not go well.

***

Sunday

“Thor, I need your help,” Loki asked hesitantly. He regretted asking his brother for anything but he was desperate.

Thor looked up from his cup and with his twinkle in his eye smiled.

“Why brother, how desperate you must be to come to me for help.”

Thor rarely gets to throw Loki’s words back in his face, so he relished the moment.

“Brother, I am serious,” Loki pleading, “You are friends with Y/N, am I correct?”

“I am. What does that have to do with you?”

Thor was just taunting his brother now, Y/N had come to him a few days ago and let him know Loki had asked her out. She had wanted to make sure Thor wasn’t going pummel his brother into oblivion. Thor was pleased to see Loki finally making good decisions. But that didn’t mean he was going to let him off easy.

“Well, I have decided to court her, so to speak, and I need to some help,” Loki shifted from side to side, clearly uncomfortable, this was uncharted territory for him.

“I don’t know how to properly express my affections towards her and I was wondering if you offer some insight.”

Thor snickered, “Why don’t just ask Y/N yourself?”

This was just too good. Thor decided to have a bit of fun with his brother. All’s fair.

“That would ruin the element of surprise, brother,” Loki quipped back.

“Fair enough. Well, I she has mentioned to me quite often how much she enjoys cats, perhaps you can get her a kitten?” Thor offered sincerely.

There was a glint in Loki’s eye. As much as he hated to admit it, his brother was on to something. But why just get an ordinary Midgardian kitten, when Y/N was deserving of so much more. He rushed away to begin making plans. Thor was startled by his brother’s abrupt exit.

“Where are you off, brother?” Thor asked after his departing brother.

“To make plans!” Loki bellowed, not even bothering to turn around.

Continuar a ler

Take You Higher

Summary: Most people don't have an assassin waiting for them in the backseat of their car, but it's your lucky day.

Pairing: Assassin!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Almost 3.2k Warnings: E/xplicit s/exual content, unprotected s/ex, car s/ex, p/ossessive behavior, w/eapons, pet names, canon divergent, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Nix provided me with a beautiful edit of Bucky and I began a new AU, A Different Call. This is for you, Nix, and I can't wait to share more of this world.❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was later than usual as you made your way toward your car, your gaze darting from left to right before you checked your phone. There was just enough light illuminating the lot where you could see where you were going, but not much else beyond your path. Everyone said it wasn't safe to walk alone at night, but you took your chances. The keys between your fingers made a quick weapon for anyone who got too close. If anyone was dumb enough to put their hands on you, the sting from the brass would be the least of their worries.

It’s almost fun when people underestimate me.

Your gaze moved to the ground before you got to the driver’s side, satisfied that no one was underneath your car as you tucked your phone in your bag. There were no vehicles on either side of yours for anyone to grab you and pull you in. If people had the chance to look inside your head, they might think you’re paranoid. You’d argue you had your own reasons to be. Danger lurked in the darkness, waiting to strike the moment anyone let their guard down.

What people didn't know was that shadows often lingered by the light and the most trustworthy of people wore masks in the form of smiles. You learned to live in the shade and make your own fragments of light. While trusting people didn’t come to you as easily, there were a few you let in. Those who didn’t mind living in the gray.

But according to the one you let in the most, you were the one who brought color into the world.

Glancing at the passenger side seat, you smiled to yourself as you got into the car and locked the door. Normally you reached right for the seatbelt. Tonight, you sat still and took a deep breath. A combination of a sweet and musky fragrance greeted you. It smelled like home.

It was why you didn’t flinch when you felt the muzzle of a gun against the side of your neck.

"Didn't anyone teach you to check the backseat before you get in a vehicle?"

The deep timbre of the voice behind you sent a chill down your spine that settled at the base. Daring to glance at the rearview mirror, you were met with a pair of cold blue eyes and a face framed by long brown hair. His lips were set in a grim line that accentuated the scruff surrounding them. Even with how spacious the back of your car was, he took up a good amount of space with his massive frame.

Death in the form of the most handsome man alive.

James “Bucky” Barnes. A former Army Sergeant turned assassin for S.H.I.E.L.D.’s STRIKE team. Most of the intelligence community referred to him as the Winter Soldier.

You simply called him yours, like he called you his.

"Maybe I’ve been waiting for an assassin to try and take me out. Only for me to flip the script and have him spare my life," you answered, smiling when he pressed the gun a bit harder against your neck. You wondered if he felt your pulse race through the metal. "Maybe even make him fall madly in love with me."

He didn't smile back at your reflection, but warmth filled his eyes in a familiar and tender gaze. "What if this assassin is already madly in love with you?"

You swallowed as he traced the barrel down to your shoulder. "Then I guess I win."

“We both win,” he whispered, sitting back in his seat and taking his gun with him. “Get back here.”

“You don’t want us to drive home?” you asked, though you made no move to put the key in the ignition.

“I said get back here,” he growled, your heart beating faster. You knew what that tone meant. You’d be lucky if you were able to walk tomorrow. “Now.”

Huffing playfully when you caught his narrowed eyes in the mirror again, you still decided to push just a little. “Bossy. Give me a second so I can- Bucky!”

You weren’t sure how he managed, but he moved your seat back far enough to grab and pull you beside him. And he managed to put his gun away before you collided with him. It didn’t surprise you though. Your man had multiple skills and was likely pent up from waiting in your car. You were pent up, too.

“Missed you,” he whispered, forcing you to straddle him.

When he framed your face with calloused hands, you expected him to pull you in for a kiss. But his eyes searched yours for a moment and you knew he was committing you to his memory once more. The love of your life had his head messed with a long time ago to the point where he lost control of his own actions and memories. While he was in a better place now, you never questioned when he needed to look at you for a second longer than usual.

If gazing at me grounds you, I’ll let you stare forever.

“I missed you, too,” you breathed, moaning when he finally brought his lips to yours and parted them with his tongue.

You didn’t realize how fast your heart was racing until Bucky slid a hand to your chest, teasing your breast through the fabric. Knowing he was back home with you was both a comfort and a sigh of relief. In the line of work the two of you were in, the promise of tomorrow was never one you could make. It made each moment that much more precious.

“Not gonna make it another minute without being inside you,” he warned you, shoving your dress up to your hips and careful to avoid the knife strapped to your thigh. You wore the garment, and the weapon he gave you, with the expectation he’d be home today. “Tell me you need me.”

“I always need you, Bucky,” you said, grinding your hips in a slow rhythm. Your barely clad pussy rubbed against the bulge in his jeans and it was enough to make his head fall back. “You need to be inside me? Need to feel my pussy around your big cock?”

“Yes. When we get home, I’ll make love to you,” Bucky snarled, making you gasp when he grasped your underwear and tore it from your body. “But I need to fuck you first, so be good and take my cock out.”

You rubbed yourself against the front of his jeans again to leave a wet spot before you raised your hips. “You better not be hurt,” you teased, but your eyes flashed in a warning as you unbuckled his belt.

“You’re free to check me when we get home. After we're in bed,” he offered, bringing a hand to your face again so you’d look into his eyes. No one ever looked at you with such devotion until he came into your life. “But I’m okay."

In a world full of lies, you trusted him completely.

"If you're okay, I'm okay," you whispered, wasting no more time as you unzipped his pants and reached inside his underwear. The size of him never ceased to amaze you. It also left you in awe how hard he felt in your hand when you wrapped your fingers around him. You might not make it another minute either without him inside you.

If anyone walked by and happened to look in the window, they’d get quite a show. At least before Bucky got his gun out and pointed it in their direction. The man would be able to find a way to shoot someone and fuck you at the same time.

"Take me in," he ordered, gripping your hips as you guided him to your waiting hole. "Please."

Bucky wasn't desperate or a man who begged. But the strain in his voice and the raw need that shone in his eyes, it told you how much he needed you. It was a heady feeling to bring the often cold assassin to the brink. It was also an honor that he trusted you when he let those walls down.

"God," you moaned as you sank down agonizingly slowly, locking eyes with him as you did as he ordered and took him into you inch by inch. It didn't matter that he didn't stretch you first. The sting was one you welcomed since you both asked for it. Who cared if you were a little sore tomorrow when you knew he'd take good care of you?

He exhaled as he allowed you a moment to adjust. It wouldn't be long until he rolled his hips up. "Only name I want you to speak is mine. Because if there is a god here tonight, it's me."

Bucky may not be a god in the literal sense, but he had been the beginning of your salvation. You walked beside him when he offered his hand. It was the path you were meant to take.

And you had almost forgotten how good it felt to have him inside you.

"Then fuck me properly, Bucky," you said, kissing him again because you could.

A low and dark grunt rumbled against your lips as he moved beneath you. Your body enveloped him in a tender and heated embrace, welcoming him home. He'd encourage you to ride him and match his pace shortly. For now, you savored every thrust of his cock, thick and bare, nothing separating you. Both of you preferred it that way.

"Ride it. Show me how much you missed me," he groaned after a minute, bringing a strong hand to the back of your neck. Your heart raced as you watched his eyes darken more. "Look at me. Don't you fucking look away."

A whimper fell from your lips, eager to please him as you braced yourself on his shoulders and raised your hips. The slow slide of his cock along your slick walls felt heavenly before you moved back down. You'd bounce on his cock all night if he let you. "So full," you moaned, never wanting to be empty again.

“Still tight no matter how many times I fuck you,” he said, licking his lips as he leaned back against the seat. The slight shift in the angle had him pushing deeper inside you and you weren’t ashamed of the loud cry you let out. “Perfect pussy and it’s all mine.”

You clenched around him at his words, your body tingling as you fucked yourself on his cock. He met you halfway, a subtle indication that you were equals and partners. Two halves of a whole. Living, breathing proof that soulmates existed in some capacity.

A reward for the hell you both went through.

“I need you to come in me,” you begged, shuddering when the head of his cock brushed your g-spot. Unduliated pleasure rippled from head to toe as he swore in Russian. His release dripping out of you later would serve as a beautiful reminder of his claim. He had every part of you. “Please. I've been so empty without you."

"I need you to come on it first,” he groaned, fucking up into with enough force that you had to grip his shirt to hold on. You weren't just heading toward your climax. He was going to catapult you there. “Give it to me and I’ll give it to you. Come. Make a mess all over me.”

Bucky gripped your chin before your head could fall back, making sure you stared in his eyes as you came. Your pleasure belonged to him and you accepted that as you shivered through your orgasm, unashamedly gushing around him. Your pussy was exceptionally greedy when it came to him and you weren’t ready to come down from the high just yet.

“That’s it. Give me everything,” he demanded, holding you still so he could thrust deep and chase his own release. Your walls twitched, the wet, sucking sound adding to the addition of your soft moans and his grunts. You gave it all and were ready to take everything he gave you in return.

“Give it to me, too, Bucky," you pleaded through the haze. "I can take it.”

He pressed his forehead to yours as he moaned your name, holding you close as he spilled inside you. Bringing a hand up to grip his hair as his hips stilled, you smiled as he let out another moan. You breathed heavily before giving him a peck on the lips, smiling wider as he began to catch his breath. His eyes always took on a gorgeous shade of blue when pleasure clouded them.

“Welcome home,” you exhaled, trying to move beside him.

“Wait,” he whispered, firmly bringing your hips back down and keeping him around his thick thighs. You gasped at the friction against your clit, your body wanting more already. “Just. Stay like this.”

He buried his face against the side of your neck, nosing along your skin as he evened out his breathing. It was almost a ritual when he came back from an assignment to hold you this way. If you weren’t in your car, your clothes would have been torn to shreds or thrown on the floor. Which you fully expected once he drove you home.

And you would make him drive since he decided to ambush you in the best possible way.

“You sure you’re okay?” you whispered after a minute, his arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace. "Nothing went wrong on your assignment?"

“It went off without a hitch,” he answered, mouthing at your pulse. “It's just getting harder to be away from home. Away from you.”

The slight vulnerability in his tone made you pause before your fingers gently combed through his hair, your heart still beating fast. You didn't have a home until the two of you made one together. “I get it,” you whispered.

Before you, Bucky didn’t mind most of his missions. That changed once he took you under his wing. It comforted him to have someone else watching his back. But the rare assignments he had to take alone, he liked them less and less as time went on. He hated being away from you.

It pained you, too.

You whined in surprise when he bit down hard on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “You didn’t look in the backseat. Why not?"

The post orgasm bliss faded at the slight growl in his tone, yet aroused you all over again.

"Because Steve gave me a heads up that he saw you before I went into the parking lot and I checked the motion detector on my car through my phone,” you told him as his tongue soothed the sting. He could avoid being seen, so he likely wanted his best friend or you to spot him. You were all careful otherwise. "You also left me the all clear signal on the passenger seat."

Spotting the bouquet tied with a single blue ribbon before you got in the car, you knew it was safe to get in and that he was waiting for you. He bought Peruvian flowers for you on your first date and chose them because of the beauty and color. He said that you brought those things back into his life. It became a signal for the two of you, as well as a token of affection.

Maybe one day, I'll have his last name as the ultimate sign of devotion.

Bucky always had those specific flowers for you when he returned from a mission and often bought them for you just because he wanted to. And if a day ever went by that he didn’t have the flowers upon coming home, or if the flowers were out of the ordinary, you’d know something was wrong. You had your own signals for him, too.

“That punk,” he said, kissing back to your lips. “He's lucky he's my friend. I wanted to surprise you."

He could count on less than one hand how many people he loved and trusted. You and Steve were two of the very few. It was only natural that the S.T.R.I.K.E. member and former Captain kept an eye out for you and vice versa. Someone important to Bucky was important to you.

Not to mention, Steve was a good man. It seemed like there weren't many left in the world. You saw why your lover respected him and called him a friend.

“And just when have you managed to surprise me?" you asked.

"The first time we saw each other face to face," he replied.

The day he was supposed to kill you.

“That's true," you agreed after a beat. "You don’t regret choosing to save me?”

Bucky pulled back with the softest smile on his face as your heart swelled in your chest. The look of love in his eyes nearly stole the oxygen from your lungs. His thumb brushed your cheek and it shocked you when he wiped away a tear. You didn’t know it had fallen.

“I regret a lot of things in my life, but you will never be one of them,” he assured you, kissing the spot where he brushed away your tear. “I’ll never regret loving you, Kitten.”

You raked your fingers softly along his scalp. He called you that before the two of you fought and the nickname stuck. You didn’t mind it. Your stealth, flexibility, and reflexes were catlike at times. He picked up on those things immediately.

“And I’ll never regret being yours, Killer," you swore. He'd never let anyone else call him that. "Or loving you.”

You understood the assassin better than most. To some degree, you knew what it was like not to be in control. Choices were taken away from you. People used the two of you for their gain, but he helped put you on a path of hope.

All because he made a different call that fateful day.

“Put your claws away,” he groaned when you moved your nails along his head again, making him rock inside you. His stamina drove you wild. “Or we’ll have round two here instead of in our bed.”

“But you promised you’d take me home and make love to me.”

"And I will, but I may need to ruin you here one more time,” he smirked, slipping his tongue into your mouth before you could argue.

If he wants to use sex as a weapon, I’ll happily accept every wound.

Before the night was over, he took you home and made love to you as he promised. He held you so close against him that it was as if you shared one breath. He even watched you as you fell asleep, an unexpected fear gripping him. In the back of his mind, he sensed that someone was still out there waiting to take you away from him.

But if anyone ever tried, he'd burn the word down to save you all over again.

Let's hope no one is dumb enough to go after Kitten. Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

Hazel Scott playing two pianos at the same damn time with ease

Sweet Dreams

Jake Jensen X Reader

Summary: Your sleeping body gives away your waking thoughts.

Warnings: 18+, language, sexual content (somnophilia, thigh riding, unprotected vaginal sex).

Credits: dividers by @firefly-graphics and thanks go to my ever lovely beta reader @christywantspizza ❤️❤️❤️

AN: My first Jake fic so please be gentle!

He was being tortured, that was the only explanation. The only reason he would be tested like this, so cruelly, made to hold back from his desires. Teased. Taunted. Tried.That had to be the explanation. 

There could be no other reason why he was lying still, tired and desperate...hard, while you clung to him. He would like to say while you slept but this was something between sleep and full consciousness. Your eyes were certainly closed, but your body seemed to be awake, moving of its own accord, rolling against Jake's own like the steady lap of the waves on the other side of the canvas tent. 

Jake starred up into the darkness and rubbed a hand over his face, taking his glasses off so he could more effectively hide his face. The blush growing on his cheeks was red hot, making him sweat in the tropical heat. 

What could have changed. Why were you doing this now? This wasn't the first time the two of you had shared the tent, or a bed for that matter. You'd spent countless nights holed up together setting up comms, tapping into whatever security systems you had to breach and monitoring targets. 

When it was cold, Jake had held you against his broad chest, tucked you into the warmth of his arms and you'd shivered together until you both fell into a dreamless, solid sleep. 

In Mexico you'd posed as a couple to get closer to your mark, holding hands and sharing a room, but that was it. At night, you'd stayed to your side of the expansive honeymoon suite bed. 

Tonight you had pitched the tent together, rolled out your sleeping bags while the sun was setting and talked until the stars twinkled above you. There had been no indication that you expected or wanted anything else... Your hips rolled again, body drawn to him and, like a magnet, he followed, pressing his leg up against you and basking in the whimper he received in return. 

You were friends. You had let him finish your food when he was still hungry. He had traded you a shirt when yours got wet with salt water. Just friends, you would never hurt him or trick him. 

So why were you doing this if it wasn't to torture him? Your grip on him tightened, the leg you'd slung over his twitched, and then you started again, harder, faster. Grinding and rocking against his thigh, your small hands clutching his damp t-shirt. Breathy pants and huffs of pleasure and frustration blew across the sensitive skin of his neck, making the hairs on his nape stand on end. 

He should wake you up, you'd be embarrassed in the morning, he should definitely wake you. But he couldn't deny he was enjoying each racked sob you gave him, each little moan and pant like the singing of angels. Each roll of your hips giving permission for his own arousal to grow. 

With his left hand on the small of your back, trapped by the weight of your head and shoulders, Jake lifted his right hand to your side. 

Beneath his large palm you were warm too, still sun-kissed from your long day. At first you squirmed against his touch, too light and tickling, making the whole situation worse. Flattening his hand made you stop, although now he could feel the dip of your hip, the swell of your ass. Experimentally he pressed his hand down to feel the soft curves of your body. 

You responded instantly, your body stilling but holding him ever tighter. 

Your moan took shape around his name, "Jake." 

Shocked, Jake pressed his left hand deeper into the small of your back, forcing you closer, your legs tighter around him. You ground yourself against him, deep and slow, his hands helpless, squeezing and rubbing, unable to let you go. 

"Jake, oh- Jake, Jay, Jayyy -" your moans becoming more desperate, his leg wet from your arousal. 

He couldn't take it anymore. His cock, impossibly hard, throbbed with each delicious movement of your body. 

"I'm here - I'm here - wake up." He poked a finger into your side making you squirm and puff a laugh across his neck.

"Jake." You hummed his name, reedy and thin "stop it - I -ugh" you grunted when he shifted you again, desperate for you to wake up. He pushed you up until you were seated across his lap, your eyes flying open. "Jake! What's happening? Are we under attack?" 

"Are we under attack? Are you fucking kidding me sweetheart?" 

"You woke me up?" 

"You woke me up!" 

You looked down, the tent of his shorts and the damp patch on your own, unmistakable. 

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" You tried to move but his hands kept you still, hips bucking slightly at the movement. 

"Just. Stop. If you're not going to help, stop." 

And you did. But only for a second. 

Your hand reached inside his shorts and pulled his leaking cock free, letting it tap his belly with a wet smack. Quickly you shimmied out of your own shorts before sitting astride his thighs. 

"You want me to help?"

Jake tipped his head back and nodded, "Fuck yes." Helping you to sink down into his lap, you could hardly see, blinking sleep from your eyes and letting your mind wander back into the sleepy daze it was so recently enjoying. 

"Fuck, JJ. So fucking big." You sobbed, trying to fall forwards, held up by his palms 

"Knew you'd be filthy, way you rubbed yourself on me in your sleep." He choked out. 

Jake rolled you both onto your sides, pulling you so close you could feel him breathing, wrapped together. 

"I don't- ungh - I don't rub myself on you when I'm asleep!" 

He tightened his grip on your hips, moving your body and taking ownership of each spark of arousal. 

"You do, you were being needy, whiney, my poor baby." His hands cupped your cheeks until you pouted, kisses dancing over you. "But I love it." He gave a harsh thrust, the coil of desire tightening in you.

In the gloom of the tent, and without his glasses, Jake struggled to see you properly, pressing his forehead to yours so he could feel each pinch of your eyebrows, the scrunch of your nose and the soft puff of breath you exhaled as you got closer and closer to release. His beard tickled and scratched the soft skin of your neck following his kisses. 

"I was not." You tried to protest, but Jake tipped his hips, changing the angle and catching the soft spot inside of you that made stars explode in your vision at the same time as pressing down on your swollen clit. 

"Sure, baby, sure." He teased again, face so close you were breathing as one, panting and keening into the sticky air. Each thrust forcing another high pitched whine to escape you. You tipped your head up, catching Jake's lips with your own for the first time and licking into his mouth. He held you close, a hand on the nape of your neck and noses nudging together until you could hardly breathe, dizzy with the sweetness of his kisses. 

Too soon, you felt your release building, each thrust of Jake's hips brushed firm and rhythmic over your clit, pleasure danced up your spine making your toes curl and your fingers tighten in the short blonde hair at the back of his head.

"Jay-" 

His hand clamped around your mouth to muzzle your cry of his name before moving to your lower back. He held you close while you rode out your orgasm, letting you roll your hips over him as you had in your sleep, chasing the aftershocks until you were sated and limp in his arms. 

Like a rag doll he moved you again, holding you close while he gave one, two, three final thrusts, spilling inside of you. 

"Shit." He pulled back, hands still all over you, burning warm but surprisingly soft. 

"Shit " you echoed, falling back onto your camping mat. 

"I - hah - I guess sorry for waking you up." You laughed. Deep down you knew this should have been awkward but… it was Jake. Your Jake. Somehow it just felt right to lie there with him in the after glow and, after all, wasn't this exactly what you'd been dreaming of? 

"If you want to wake me up again sometime, baby, go ahead." Jake laughed, shaking his head, surprisingly shy. With a sigh, you rolled onto your side, looking at Jake's profile in the moonlight seeping through the tent. All of a sudden,you felt very, very tired again. 

Using the last of your energy, you curled yourself into his side, Jake stretched an arm around your shoulders, tucking your head into his chest and you let your eyes fall closed again, content. 

ok but the hunger games literally did mention it All like… the use of propaganda by the elite as an attempt to divide the minority groups they oppress by making them perceive each other as rivals and prevent them from recognizing and uniting against their real enemy? check. criticism of the way we consume media with no consideration for other people’s privacy like we’re entitled to every detail of their lives and a lack of empathy for their pain because it makes good entertainment? yeah. realistic depictions and explorations of the effects of trauma, particularly that caused by conflict? hunger games has you covered. acknowledgement of the existence of and links between racism and classism, and that conventional standards of beauty are influenced by the societal elite, which people are encouraged to harm themselves in order to conform to (the fact that the weathier people in district 12 are white, blonde and blue-eyed while the coal miner families are mostly people of color; that the two poorest districts, 11 and 12, have majority poc populations; that most people, katniss herself included, consider prim to be prettier than katniss partly because she looks like her white, blonde, blue-eyed mother, who was from the wealthier part of the district; that the first thing that happens to the tributes when they’re taken to the capitol is they they’re “prepped” to conform to capitol beauty standards before they even meet their stylists in ways that literally violate their bodies permanently, and that many of the capitol residents have extreme body modifying surgery that can take a severe toll on their health and wellbeing in the long term)? none of this is accidental, and is both brought up and criticised multiple times throughout the trilogy. the sexualization of minors for adult consumption, especially young celebrities? the fact that politicians in positions of power and authority gain those positions through corruption and by considering anyone harmed in their acension collateral damage? the significance of propaganda and social influence in modern warfare? the misery caused by poverty, which is caused and intentionally maintained by the wealthy elite? the brutal and violating experience of living in a surveillance police state, especially as a member of a minority group and/or poor person? the inherently immoral and corruptive nature of warfare and the military and the unimaginable atrocities and suffering it leads to for ordinary civilians? every YA dystopia novelist tried so hard to be mrs collins but most didn’t even understand half of what went into her books that made them so compelling.

My body battery is completely worn out then

Idea: dragon Jaskier but he doesn't know he's a dragon (he himself is confused why he isn't aging). He only finds out when Geralt is in mortal danger and his fight or flight reflex kicks in!!!

Jaskier doesn’t like thinking about time. He’s a very vain creature, he can admit that - he likes his silks and colorful clothes, expensive oils, takes care of his skin and nails, even on the Path. He’s vain and so he doesn’t like thinking about time when he’ll be wrinkled and gray and everything will hurt.

Aside from being vein, that’s what scares him the most.

The idea that one day his body will refuse to cooperate, that one day he won’t be able to follow his wanderlust. Won’t be able to follow Geralt.

That’s why he doesn’t think about it at all. Yes, Jaskier’s aware that he’s been walking the Continent with Geralt for decades now but well, he feels okay, nothing hurts, aside from some old wounds.

He has a feeling that they’re both avoiding thinking about his mortality. Sometimes, Jaskier catches his lover looking at him with sad eyes, when they pass a village where a funeral took place not long ago.

When that happens, Jaskier pulls his Witcher into his arms and pets his hair until Geralt can’t think of anything but his love and sleep. It works for years.

With all the not-thinking about Jaskier’s mortality, they haven’t really had an occasion to think about Geralt’s mortality. Jaskier makes sure his reckless lover doesn’t take contracts that sound impossible to too dangerous for one Witcher, and he’s always there after a hunt to take care of his wounds.

However, it turns out that monsters are not what’s really a threat to Geralt’s life. Jaskier stares in horror at the small army of the local Duke that apparently doesn’t want to pay Geralt the small fortune he owes the Witcher for the nest of vampires.

They look at the armed men, aware that there’s no way they can leave this place alive.

“Go,” Geralt snarls at him, gripping a sword. “They don’t want you.”

“Like fuck I’m leaving you,” Jaskier hisses, suddenly angry. People are coming for his Witcher and he hates it when people come for his Witcher.

Geralt is…precious to him. No one gets to hurt his precious Witcher.

Suddenly, there’s something warm in his chest. Warmth that grows and spreads until it feels like he has a blazing fire in his chest, rumbling and tumbling until it’s ready to spill.

“Geralt, run,” he manages to gasp before the world shakes and everything shifts.

When Jaskier opens his eyes again, his wings are spread and he feels invincible. He doesn’t know what’s happening aside from that fact that these people are a danger to his treasure and he will kill them all.

He roars, head thrown back and spots fire at them, just above their heads, watching in satisfaction as they scramble and panic, screams rising on the hill.

His treasure his hidden safely by his side and Jaskier curls his tail around Geralt, pressing him close.

“Jaskier?” he hears from behind when they’re left alone and it’s another strange instinct to shift smaller and smaller until he’s in Geralt’s arms.

“I remember,” he gasps.

inspired by this post 

Oops, I never uploaded this one to Tumblr (which I only realized when someone else did, but then was kind enough to tag me, thank you)!

This is the comic that kickstarted my obsession with telling stories with as few panels as I could (usually 10-11 haha), so it’s got a soft spot in my heart. 

[id: screenshots of tiktok captions. the images say, “but the only reason we still love princess diana is because she did not have the time to disappoint us.”]

begging queer kids to read up on princess diana’s involvement with the community. yes, she was a rich, pretty monarch. yes, she died young.

but the reason why queer people love her is because she used her privilege during the aids crisis to advocate for sick queer men, when very few others would - much less someone of her status.

diana spent years advocating for the health and care of queer people with hiv/aids. in 1987, at the height of the epidemic, she opened the first specialist clinic dedicated to treating aids patients (the first clinic of it’s kind in the uk).

she also fought public hysteria by hugging and shaking bare hands with aids patients, at a time when aids was thought to be spread by skin to skin contact. not only that, she visited patients in the clinic regularly and even comforted them through their sickness.

and when queen elizabeth told her to try focusing on “something more pleasant”?

diana ignored her and kept fighting.

and this is only her work towards the aids crisis. she publicly called out the royal family, brought attention to numerous world issues, and was known as an advocate for empathy and kindness. she’s known and loved as the people’s princess for good reason