#(I PROMISE YOU IT IS GOOD anyway In My Mind it's Canon)

[aromanticannibal]

The pattern is that people straight up do not read™. or they read a 3-5 tweet summary of what happened and treat it as if they did. or because shonen expectations based on "the classics" is bullshit and significantly rotted people's brains when deciding wether an ending is good or not.

Which could be nothing right

yeahhh. i will forever regret reading the last chapter through leaks because it was a dreadful experience, and watching everyone ever shit on it for like a week after genuinely made me want to just get off the internet forever or something because i felt like an idiot for liking the ending (all this is my fault for getting too invested in both tumblr and mha etc etc).

All the "it's rushed" and pacing complaints barely matter to me at this point because you just cannot feel the pacing of something correctly when you're reading it exclusively through leaks. you can't absorb info like that. And don't get me started on the number of complaints and criticisms I've seen of the last chapter that are just provably bullshit (I saw someone say Izuku didn't get a statue lmao. yes he did, you just read the fucking leaks and watched twitter drama unfold instead of reading the actual chapter i fear).

[shidoukanae]

Daniel/Ellie sketchpage!!!

Been becoming more and more fond of them as a ship recently and wanted to try drawing the greedy merchant gal and the mischievous do-good dragon guy!!

All the dragon guy/human gal ships in this story are really full of chemistry and these two are no exception. They've barely got any meaningful interactions between them and yet somehow they're still oozing with cute feels between them. Really makes me root for them to become an established relationship, especially since the creator handles both characters really, REALLY well already and i wanna see what they're like when they both reciprocate interest in each other :Dc

[pain-suffering-even]

Hey um... 👉👈 do you have any other... uh... religious trauma hcs? Specifically for Izawa?!?! I definitely won't go feral if you post some :'3

hm... i don't have anything off the top of my head for him, but i'll whip up something real quick. i already have a few head canons for him, which i'll just mix into this, but i'll try and keep it as plain as possible for anyone to add on/be able to input what they think <3

content warning for religion/religious trauma and mention of oc character death and internalized homophobia/transphobia (very brief mention)

i would guess he's about 20, maybe 21 now - so he would be young when the gates appeared, 10 or 11. around this time he would maybe start leaning a bit harder into his faith since he's young and is terrified about what is happening. not to mention he would also be reawakened as an S ranker

for about several years, he'd ask god to protect his sister and his family - while he doesn't have a good relationship with his dad, he still sees him as a human being and values his life, and his step-mom has always been kind to him and gave him a sister, and later on, a brother

(if you really wanted to add in angst, his step-mom or step-sister could die in a gate break related incident - that could be the thing that really breaks his faith)

there are things that happen in canon, tragic incidents known world-wide because of the sheer amount of death and destruction. Kamish, Tokyo's Red Gate Incident (not canon; i whipped it up for goto ryuji's backstory), and all around any tragic stories involving people being lost or dying in gates would continuously shake his faith

coupled with the teenage angst hormones, his outlook on religion might do a 180 as he gets older - while he still believes in god/a higher power, its clear whatever he's praying to doesn't value human life

around this time he would be attempting to move out on his own, since his home life would be getting progressively shittier with time, only making him more and more frustrated

he would definitely feel guilty as well, because as an S ranker, he can definitely stop all of this death, but he can't do anything because he's still technically a child

(also - i headcanon ippei as being born intersex, which i know is out of left field, so i'm just going to mention it briefly - his gender/sex/all that would cause conflicted feelings about his faith as well, because he wants to trust god, but he also feels as though he's wronged him by being born the way he was - internalized homophobia/transphobia and all that)

in the present, he would probably hold grudges against god for not being there or not intervening. he might sit down for a prayer out of instinct/as a last resort before a tough gate or something similar - it would be tough for him to break old habits, as much as he doesn't like it

so... there you have it! growing up close to god, feeling betrayed and abandoned when shit got real, yet still reluctantly believing in god and praying/talking to him despite also feeling anger and resentment towards him. (and, an optional splash of internalized homophobia and transphobia or a dear family member dying due to a gate for maximum angst)

[navybrat817]

Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[grimmsbride]

HABITS [ curly / reader ]

when it comes to picking coworkers, curly isn’t the most dependable. but.. the same could be said about keeping his feelings in check.

tags / ex - friends with benefits to lovers(?) | bittersweet | oral sex ( fem. receiving ) | slight praise kink | porn without plot | canon-divergence | chubby coded reader | curly isn’t 100% accurate & i am sorry this is my first time writing for him | curly is lowkey a liar but it’s okay | curly is big ( based off fanart mostly but also game ) | pet names | etc. if i forgot something please alert me.

notes / it has been like.. months since i last posted on tumblr. but i am slowly getting my spark back. this has also been cross posted on archive so if you see it there do not be alarmed. my writing is rusty, so please be nice with criticisms i’m quite sensitive 😭 but please do enjoy <3

“You look like shit.” You murmured softly, eyes carrying up the man’s form. You hadn’t expected anyone to be awake at this hour, let alone outside of their quarters. But whether to your dismay or pleasure someone had joined your little excursion, that someone being your beloved Captain; Curly.

Who looked to be teetering between the land of the dead and living. Bags lined those pretty eyes, a little red— surely from strain. When was the last time he got enough sleep? Was a thought that quickly passed your mind. Regardless you decided against asking, seeing as you were positive he wouldn’t have an answer for you anyway.

The Captain— Curly, allowed the corner of his mouth to lift; a humorous sigh escaping him. “Do I? Hadn’t noticed..”

“And here I thought Mr. Handsome prided himself on his vanity and dignity.”

The man shook his head at your usual flirty remarks, glancing about your own form. He took in the makeshift wrap of blankets you held around your pajama-clad body, noticing your feet covered in slippers. Not the proper attire obviously, but reprimanding you just didn’t seem worth it at the moment.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You shrugged, eyes shifting away to glance at a wall. “More like didn’t want to. With so much work to be done I rarely get any time to my thoughts.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

“For you.. maybe. I quite enjoy my mind.”

You smiled at the soft chuckle that escaped him, taking the moment to move just a bit closer. Again, your eyes landed upon those dreaded bags; hand rising slowly to his face. You watched as his eyes focused quite quickly, clearly puzzled by your sudden attention. Regardless he didn’t move, instead allowing your palm to press against his cheek— your thumb then moving to trace a bag.

“I’m serious though. It looks like you haven’t gotten sleep in days. Is something wrong?”

A flicker.. just a slight glint, drifted through his gaze. An emotion you couldn’t quite place but didn’t like regardless. You stood silently, watching as his hand rose before your own. Gentle fingers wrapped around your wrist, dragging your hand down his cheek — the abrasion of his facial hair tickling your palm — before pulling it away from him.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about [Name].”

Curly spoke, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. But you knew him. All, too, well. The man could hold water but there were times it spilled over just a little. Even if he didn’t explicitly say it, you knew his concern was something big— something that definitely affected you.

“Captain stuff, huh?” You said slowly, hand pulling away from his own in a dejected fashion. You couldn’t help but feel that way, eyes drifting away almost stubbornly.

“I thought our relationship was above such titles.”

“[Name]—“

You shook your head, Curly clamming up in response. Times like these were exactly why you regretted taking the man up on his offer. The promise of lines not being crossed was a discussion made in the same breath, yet here you were; questioning why exactly your past relations meant little to his decision to be secretive.

But it was just relations.. right? Just sex, a way to blow off steam. People that sleep together with no love shouldn’t act like this anyway.

Your eyes finally lifted from its stubborn gaze on the wall and back to the blonde before you, attempting to seem unfazed by the intense stare he was delivering you.

You forced a smile. “I’m just messing with you, Captain. Lighten up a bit.”

Curly continued to stare before coming close, a single footstep that pressed against the metal beneath the two of you. You nearly forgot how large the male was; broad and tall, staring down at you with those bag lined.. beautiful eyes. He reached over, fingers ghosting the back of your hand for a moment before grabbing it.

This caused you to shiver, eyes widening slowly as you watched the man bring it back to its previous place; right at his cheek. He used his own appendage to assure you cupped his face.

“I know you well enough to know when you’re joking or not, [Name].” Curly spoke lowly, eyes flickering between multiple spots on your face. “Right now.. I don’t want to worry you. It’s something I’ll figure out, but I will let you know soon.. I promise.”

That’s what you hated most about Curly. Even if you were clearly worried about him, he just loved to spin it so he could worry about you. All while easing such worries with the prettiest words. a master of the tongue. In more ways than one.

The flush of warmth that broached your cheeks was hard to ignore, eyes fluttering to the ground as his gaze grew intense. You allowed your thumb to trace his skin, teeth grazing the inside of your cheek. You promised yourself you wouldn’t let such thoughts or feelings resurface. Strictly professional was your own personal mantra.

Yet here you were, holding the cheek of the man you’ve been pining for— desperately wanting to touch more.

And that you did.

Against better judgement, head clear of thinking— you pressed forward, allowing your lips to brush against his own. You felt his breath stutter, body growing still at your bold action. This allowed your eyes to rise, batting thick eyelashes at the man as you spoke:

“Then.. until then, why don’t I take your mind off of it?”

You solidified your words in a single kiss, free hand clutching your blanket that threatened to slip. You felt the hand on your own slowly fall, clearly from shock. You couldn’t blame him. This was going against everything the two of you decided on. Everything the two of you have built since being onboard of this ship.

Even so, you didn’t mind destroying it— nor did your beloved captain.

Large hands slid under your blanket, finding the small of your back. With a pull you were flush against his form, the kiss deepening. Soft lips collided in a gentle battle, that slowly became fierce as time passed. Feelings buried deep began to bubble over, creating that haze that left you breathless. You could only moan as his tongue slid across your lips, effectively parting them. There, Curly took his time to claim your mouth as his once again, coating each and every inch with his saliva.

Your hand slid from his cheek to a large shoulder, gripping him so tightly as your knees began to buckle. Any longer and you were sure you would topple over right then and there.

Desperate for air Curly reluctantly pulled away, staring at that little string that connected the two of you. Heavy breaths escaped you, causing the want developing deep in his stomach to just burn even more. His eyes lifted away from you for a moment, an inner turmoil playing behind his eyes.

He was the Captain. He didn’t have time to play hooky and hook up with an old fling. Curly had duties.. responsibilities and expectations. And yet, as his flicked back to your form; so wanton and palpable— any thought of being the revered Captain of Tulpar escaped quite quickly.

Leaving behind Curly. A man who couldn’t quite help his desires. And a man who wasn’t the best at picking his coworkers.

“Come here.” Curly spoke softly, tugging you close before leaning; slipping his hands under your legs and lifting you easily.

The butterflies in your stomach tumbled and tumbled, threatening to spill from your mouth the moment he stepped towards his room. Effortlessly, as if your body meant completely nothing. Oh how you loved whenever he showed off his strength.

The door slid open routinely, revealing the simple quarters. A bed, desk, and dresser— surely filled with underwear and extra uniforms. The air was cool, perfect yet you couldn’t help but shiver the moment the man laid you across his sheets. A breath caught in your throat as he climbed over you, a hulking mass covering your line of vision only allowing you to see him.

Curly’s hands pressed against the mattress beneath you, leaning down to steal your lips once again. His light beard brushed against your skin, a feeling that caused you to chuckle, a feeling you missed.. feeling. Your hands rose, collecting his face into your palms as you deepened the kiss. Soft smacks of passion passed throughout the room as lips tangled in a secret conversation.

A hand rose from the mattress, treading down your plump form to find the edge of your shirt. His fingers, ever so gentle, slid under the fabric to spread across the span of your warm stomach. You sighed into his mouth, reeling into his touch as it grew higher and higher— soon skimming the bottom of your breasts.

“Curly..don’t tease.” You pulled back to speak, eyes focused on his features. You couldn’t help the pulse between your thighs the moment an impish smile crossed his features.

“I’m not, just.. remembering.”

With his soft murmur Curly was lifting your shirt off your body, placing it somewhere on the bed. Lowering, his breath fanned across your warm skin, gentle kisses pressing against your neck.

You hissed, eyes pinching closed, as your hands lowered to grasp his arms. Your lips parted as a large hand soon covered one of your breasts, gently squeezing whilst his thumb brushed against your hardening nipple.

As much as you wished to beg for more you knew better than to do so. Curly wasn’t a person that rushed when it came to these things. He enjoyed taking his time, building your pleasure bit by bit so when the main event happened you were completely lost in ecstasy. And as annoying as it was to admit, you couldn’t help but love his attention to detail.

The kisses lowered to the valley of your chest, tongue gliding across the hot skin, sliding to your untouched nipple. The man mumbled against your flesh, licking and sucking; delivering such sweet attention you couldn’t help the bated breaths beginning to form.

Should you be worried? The others weren’t close but weren’t far. And you highly doubt any of them would want to be waken by your less than professional “activities”.

Unfortunately, as Curly’s other hand traveled low concern for their sleep slowly drifted away.

You whimpered softly as his hand breached your pants and panties, fingers gliding across your slick slit for a moment before using two to spread you gently. Fuck.. was the simple sigh that escaped you as his middle finger easily found your swelling bud, rubbing it into slow circles.

“Fu..fuck Curly, I’m supposed to be taking your mind off work.”

Curly lifted from your breast, nipple red and slick from his constant attention. “Oh don’t worry, you are.” The man confirmed, allowing a finger to slide lower— pressing against your entrance. With ease it was slipping in, velvety walls swallowing the thick digit greedily.

“Now all I can think about is you, your body, your reactions.. how much I missed when you’d…—“ As another finger of his slid in, the Captain curled them ever so slightly, watching intently as your lips parted wider, a breathy moan escaping your throat.

“— did that.”

His lips curled, clearly delighted. Would it be cocky to admit he loved the way you didn’t change? How he still remembered every single button to press? It was if.. you were made perfectly, just for him.

That, or Curly ruined you for every other man.

The man released your breast for a moment to tug your bottoms down, allowing him to watch his fingers appear and disappear into your wet snatch. Soft plaps escaped from between your pretty thighs, arousal trickling down his appendages and surely to your taint.

His mouth couldn’t help but water, and without thinking the man was lowering closer. Curly’s lips parted above your cunt, breath fanning across the wet heat for a moment before covering your sweet little bud. His free hand quickly came to rest on your lower stomach, only to then decide to hold you down with his forearm.

There; unable to move, his lips sucked your swollen clit, beard brushing across you so deliciously.

A swear dropped from your lips, hands flying to your mouth to cover more sounds that threatened to spill. Your legs fluttered, a warmth brewing deep in your tummy— one you haven’t felt in months. Sure, when you could you rubbed one out — unfortunately without your beloved vibrator that hadn’t made it on Tulpar with you — but this was different. A feeling you couldn’t quite replicate with your own fingers or imagination.

His fingers were just so much longer, bigger; filling and stretching you perfectly. Pushing against your warm walls, curling to press against spots you couldn’t achieve. And even as your clit began to sting at the sensitivity, the pleasure was far more overwhelming.

Tears sprung at your eyes and through a glossy gaze you were taking Curly in. His own eyes were closed, heated breaths and groans fanning against your cunt as he devoured you effortlessly. Such a fucking messy eater. And you loved it.

As the pleasure brewed, forming into a band bound to snap you allowed a hand to lower to his hair, fluffy blonde locks sliding through the gaps of your fingers as you clung to him. Your legs shook, body arching off the bed as your other hand held your mouth so harshly you were sure there were scratches on your cheek.

“Fuck..!” Slammed against your palm in a muffled cry, body clenching as you came undone. You heard an all too familiar groan of pure delight as Curly gently lapped you up, withdrawing his fingers but refusing to remove his arm.

Whimpers of overstimulation did nothing to him, the man continuing to clean you up until he was satisfied. And when he finally was, he rose, the bottom half of his face coated with your mess.

Your hand lowered from your mouth, soft pants escaping. “I hate you.”

“Do you?” Curly was quick to answer, moving his arm to instead grasp your thighs. He lifted you a bit, pulling your bottom closer to him. Once you nodded the man chuckled, thumbs gliding across the marks that were painted across your hips.

“I don’t believe that. Not one bit.”

You opened your mouth to retaliate, but was left silently searching for snarky banter as you watched the captain’s hands move towards his slacks. There, his thumbs caught the waist band of his bottoms, tugging them down to reveal that sharp v-line and much more. Curly was a large man, everywhere. His length was thick, a round tip— bulging red with an angry vein traveling down his pale shaft.

You wondered if a pillow would be better than your hands at this point.

“Thought you were gonna say something..”

Curly teased, pulling his bottoms down the rest of the way and tossing them with your pile of clothes. He could only chuckle as you shook your head, crawling over your form to hover a breath’s away from you.

“Good.”

The man was smart to capture your lips as the moment you felt his length prod and push, you couldn’t help the little cry escaping you— perfectly muffled by his own mouth.

The stretch burned, burned so damn good you could have came again just from that. Curly was a gentleman of course, pushing in slowly, allowing you to grow accustomed to his size after so many months.

About halfway you were pulling away from his lips, head pressed against the pillow beneath you as sharp pants escaped you. Curly’s hand brushed your hip whilst the other cradled your face.

“That’s good.. breathe, you can take it all— can’t you?” His voice was sweet, soothing as his hips continued to push— plunging deep inside of you.

Your eyes were struggling to stay open, pretty groans falling from your tongue, easing into a sigh the moment you felt his hips stop; now fully seated within you. The feeling was mildly uncomfortable, even with his loving preparation, but you could make do.

You have before.

Curly leaned down, pressing his lips to your face, peppering them across his skin. Your forehead, under your eye, your nose, lips, and chin— everywhere he could reach. Attempting to soothe you even more.

Your hands rose gliding under his shirt to instead press against his broad, muscular back. Your finger tips traced little shapes across his skin, soon curling to allow your nails to scrape the moment he moved his hips.

Curly began to pull them back slowly, allowing only the tip inside before pushing forward. A single motion that caused the both of you to shudder, pleasure quickly brewing once more.

Soon enough with little restraint, Curly started a gentle pace. Back and forth, a hand on your waist whilst the other kept him upright. His length pressed into you deeply, pushing against a spongy spot that caused stars to invade your vision.

Your eyes were screwed shut, mouth lax as whimpers of passion escaped you sharply. Your nails dug and dragged into his back, an ache forming in your hips as his simple thrust became drills.

Curly couldn’t help himself at this point. He’s been holding back for far too long. Every interaction, every playful banter, every secret exchange of the eyes— played within in his mind. The man was smart enough to acknowledge how stupid he was. Playing with yours and his feelings, pretending your past didn’t matter; that coworkers were a status that you could achieve.

But no. He was fooling himself. There’s no way in hell, especially after this, was the man going to be able to go back to just being coworkers.

“Curly.. fuck, fuck— they’re gonna hear—!” You cried, legs shaky and wrapped tight around his waist. In the midst of his haze had suddenly increased his speed, ferocity; placing nearly his entire weight behind each thrust. Your eyes were rolling back at this point, nearly lost to the pleasure if it wasn’t for the sudden banging of the bed against the wall.

That fear of being discovered nearly killed your high.

Fortunately, Curly heeded your concerns, his hand lifting from the bed to instead grip the metal railing. You nearly gushed on the spot, watching his eyebrows pressed close, focusing so intently on your pleasure. His grip on your hip nearly mirrored the bed, refusing to release you. Every thrust you took, pushing you deep into the mattress as your breath threatened to leave.

“Mi..missed you.. I missed you so much.” Curly huffed, pants escaping his open mouth as his thrusts never faltered. The wet sounds of skin on skin filled the room, a steady rhythm to accompany his thrusts.

You tugged him closer by his back, shoving your face into his neck with your mouth directly against his ear. You wished to reply, expressing you felt the same exact way— even more. But of course you were left to only moan and gasp, his name coming out in struggled cries that only stirred him up even more.

Moments of your intense passion continued until your peaks grew closer, the two of you struggling even harder to keep your voices level. Maybe you two truly didn’t give a damn who heard.

“Curly!—“ His lips were colliding with yours in moments, sealing the deal as you came undone for the second time that night. You gushed around him, coating his dick with your thick essence— trickling to his sheets.

The man, releasing a final groan right into your mouth, pushing deep; releasing inside of you. Filling you to the brim.

The captain’s hips slowly settled, yet his lips continued to cover your own; moving slowly and lovingly. Curly released the bed frame to instead cup your face, cool fingers an ease to your hot skin.

Soon enough the two of you pulled away, a soft groan escaping you as the man slowly slid out of you. You tried to ignore the rather unpleasant feeling of his release slowly trickling out of you, instead focusing on the man above you— who was currently smiling.

Your swollen lips flattened into a pout, hands rising from his back to instead rising to his face.

“Don’t smile at me, Captain.”

Curly chuckled, hands sliding under you to lift whilst he sat up. Pulling you onto his lap, the man cradled your waist, thumbs brushing across your skin.

“It’s habit at this point, my love.”

You couldn’t help your own smile, arms wrapping around his neck, leaning to give him a small peck.

“Mhm..” You only hummed, eyes closing in a blissful manner as his forehead pressed against your own.

“No matter what, I’ll always be here to support. You know that, right?”

“I know, [Name]. I know.”

[artdcnaldson]

ugh "leverage" to ensure she won't go tattling to patrick. especially as he starts getting meaner and meaner, he tells her it's to make sure she doesn't back out and tell on him. because patrick would genuinely kill art if he knew what he's been doing to his baby sister.

i know it doesn't really fit in the canon of the other parts to this au, but hear me out anyway... what if he agreed to fuck her, properly this time, in her sweet little pussy. BUT he needs said leverage to make sure she keeps quiet about it (truly he just needs to immortalize taking her virginity so he can watch it back for the rest of his life). so he "agrees", he's the one to bring it up lol, on the condition that he can record it. y'know like really shitty, amateur, pov style, on her creaky dorm bed and pink, frilly sheets. shaky and grainy, but it's good enough for him. it's not like he would ever actually post it anywhere or show people, but she doesn't know that.

he gets off on how nervous she is when he points the camera at her, she's blushing and trying to hide her face. but he just slaps her cheek and manhandles her to look right down the lens of his shitty phone camera. tells her to moan louder around his big cock, tell the camera how good he feels, really just stroking his own ego. makes her tell the camera exactly how he's making her feel, can't cum unless she asks into the camera. he nearly cums right inside her when she tells him he's too big and it hurts :(((((

yummy yummy yummy

-🐞

OHHHHHHH <3 I had to let this simmer. This had to ruminate. Had to really let it sit and grow legs or whatever wine people say idk

RATING: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v, degradation, making a sex tape, loss of virginity, world’s worst aftercare), mean!art as always, uncomfortable power dynamics, DUBCON due to coercion

He catches you leaving one of your classes, chatting happily with a few girls as you walk. Their eyes widen as he approaches, smacking his gum, looming tall over them. You murmur a quick apology and bound over like an obedient little pet, falling into stride beside him as he walks.

“What class is that?” He asks, nodding back towards the building. Most of the time he forgot you even attended the school beyond cheering at his games and floating around his dormitory like a ghost.

“Peoples and cultures,” you reply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s an anthropology course I’m taking. It’s actually really interesting, like, these past few lectures have been—“

“What are you doing tonight?” He interrupts, not really caring beyond the simple answer to his question. He has a one track mind, and for the moment he’s just thinking about getting in your pants.

He watches you think, then shrug. “Um… nothing, I guess? Why?”

Art stops by a tree suddenly, tugs you by your wrist to stop with him. “Do you promise if we fuck you won’t tell Patrick?” He watches as your eyes widen, as sheer need and excitement makes you practically vibrate out of your skin.

Frantically you nod. “I’d never tell Patrick, I’d take it to my grave, I swear,” you say, totally earnest, bouncing on the balls of your feet as he looks at you.

“God, I want you so bad,” he hums, brushing your hair back behind your ear. You melt beneath his touch, gaze all half-lidded and soft. “I just… I think I’d have to have some leverage, just to make sure no one ever finds out.”

You tilt your face, resting it on his hand, your eyes half-lidded and dazed with need. You hum a soft, “Mhmm,” without even knowing what he’s implying, what he’s asking of you. But he hears what you’re thinking, all dumbed down and needy— yes, Art, whatever you say Art, anything you want, Art.

He wants to do it in your room, that night. He walks you back to your dorm and tells you to get your roommate out, make sure she’s busy for however long you need. He’d text you when he’s on his way.

So you’re just… fucking vibrating with excitement, cleaning up your dorm, changing your sheets, fluffing your pillows. You light three warm vanilla sugar candles so the dorm smells nice and sweet, put on your roommate’s SEXXXMIXXX <3 CD that she had burned in High School (and kept your fingers crossed it was still relevant). You took the longest fucking shower of all time, scrubbed your skin until it stung, shaved you’re entire body, wondered if maybe he wouldn’t like bald pussy, then worried that he’d hate if you kept the hair even more. Moisturized, then put on pretty, light makeup— lipgloss, mascara. All in the span of time it took for him to text you.

Art :) <3

omw

You feel a little dizzy by the time he’s at your door, already wet just anticipating what you were about to do. He grins down at you, at your silky little pajama set, pink and lacy around the edges. Smacks his gum, trails his hand along the sides of your waist.

“Pretty.” He looks smug as he rubs the lace between his fingers. “You got all dressed up for me, huh?”

It’s amazing how timid and shy you can look as you stand in front of him, biting onto your lip as you nod. He shuts the door behind him and guides you backwards until you knock against your bed and laugh nervously. Jesus, he’d already fucked your ass, your throat, he’d done things to you that even the dirtiest fucking sluts on campus wouldn’t dream of allowing. But you’re all shy because he’s finally going to fuck you properly?

You gasp as he tugs down the neckline of your top, exposing your tits to the cool air of the dorm. So cute, soft. Your nipples already hard and sensitive, so just the lightest pinch makes you let out a pretty moan.

“Remember what I said about leverage?” Art says, and you nod slowly, dreamily. “I want to film it.”

Your eyes widen slightly, as you think back to the pictures he’d taken of you just a few weeks prior. “And you’d… what? Like post it if Pat finds out?”

“No, no, only if you tell,” he corrects. Even then… he doubted he’d actually ever post it anywhere. He had a tennis career to consider, after all. But the important thing was that you believe he will. “It’s just to make sure this stays our secret.”

You swallow, consider it. You didn’t plan on telling Patrick, so it was fine, right? He’d hate Art, and you didn’t want that. You would never want that, no matter what.

So you nod softly. “Okay,” you say finally. “I’d… yeah, I understand. Okay.”

God, you’re easy. So fucking easy it makes him a little sick to think about. What if he wasn’t Patrick’s friend, if he was some frat house asshole who would take advantage of how bad you wanted him? You’re so lucky he’s a good person.

He uses your own fucking digital camera— pink and decorated with little heart stickers. Turns it on and records you as you slip off your sweet silky pajamas, revealing soft, smooth skin beneath. You’re so shaky, so nervous. You can’t even look into the lens.

“No panties?” He asks, lips quirked into a grin. He steps forward to slip his hand between your thighs, to cup your pussy in one big hand. God, you’re so fucking wet, just like you usually are. He could just slide right in without any resistance, just bury himself right inside that tight little pussy. “Jesus, you’re a fucking mess, just dripping for it, aren’t you?”

You moan, relishing in the feeling of his hands on you. Art never touched you, not to get you off, at least. So the feeling of his thick calloused fingers against your cunt makes you whine. He breaches your entrance with just a fingertip and grins at the feeling of you clenching around the intrusion, desperate for anything he’ll give you.

But the relief is gone as soon as you’ve gotten it. He pats your thigh, nods to the bed. “Go lay down. Let me film you stretching yourself out for me.”

“Art,” you whine once you’ve laid down, embarrassed as he trains the lens on you. “Do you have to film this part?”

It just makes him double down, grinning smugly as he settles at the foot of the bed. “C’mon, just fucking do it. Show the camera how fucking wet you get for me.” You hear the whir of him zooming in as your hand slips between your thighs, as lithe fingers slide through your soaking wet folds and you tease your clit. He groans softly, grinning at the sight on the camera. “Alright, spread yourself out now. Show me how small and tight you are.”

You whimper pathetically, but obey. Your fingers form a V as you spread your lips, revealing the pretty, drippy hole of your cunt. He doesn’t even have to tell you to start fucking yourself, you just do. Pretty, manicured fingers disappearing inside the tight channel of your pussy, slow and easy as you pant and gasp sweetly.

“Can you do three?” He asks. He zooms the camera out, makes sure he gets all of you— your tits heaving with each breath, the slow grind of your hips to meet your fingers. You nod softly, press a third finger alongside the other two. He grins at the sight of the stretch of your cunt around them, how your body works to accommodate them. “God, it’s a tight stretch, huh?”

“Mhmm.” You moan as you pump your fingers slow, in and out. Wet to the point of it sounding obscene. Slick dripping out with each thrust, making your fingers glisten.

He can hardly take sitting there and watching, but god, he’d love it later on when he was alone with only the video to keep him company. But who knows? Maybe he’d fuck you once and never want anyone else. He already felt that way… kind of. You were so eager, so obsessed with him. You touched him like it was an act of worship. He couldn’t get that from easy pussy.

He sets the camera down on the foot of the bed while he undresses, tugging off his sweats and tee shirt, mussing up his hair in the process. It’s not lost on him, the way your fingers speed up at the sight of his cock, how needy and desperate you are.

“How bad do you want it?” He asks as he picks up the camera.

God, he’s mean. You whine when he grabs your wrist and makes you slip your fingers from inside of your cunt. Empty, needy, desperate. “Please, fuck me, Art.” You’re embarrassed, of course you are. He has a camera focused on your needy little expression, one hand on your thigh all warm and possessive. “Please, I’ve been so good for you. I’ve done everything you’ve asked. I just need you, I need you inside of me. Want you to be my first. Please, Art.”

He’s not sure where he wants the camera as he notches the head of his cock at your wet little hole. Part of him wants to film the second he buries his cock inside of that tight fucking cunt, but the other wants to film your face, watch how pretty you look as you take your very first cock.

And god, you’re trembling beneath him. Visibly shaking with anticipation, or nerves, or need. He runs a hand along your torso, cups one of your tits in his hands and thumbs over your sensitive nipple. “What, are you cold?” He teases.

“N-no,” you stammer, meeting his gaze. “Just— I just want it so bad.”

He films your face, which was the right call, he decides. He has to think about it technically, or he’ll risk blowing his load one pump in, like a total fucking loser. You’re so tight around him, clamping down on his cock as he sheaths himself within you, inch after inch. And god, that angelic face of yours— mouth agape, wet and pink and pretty, the tiniest furrow between your brows, lashes splayed against your cheeks as you moan, soft and sweet. “Hurts,” you practically whimper. “God, Art, fuck, it feels—“

He films where your cunt swallows him, stretched to the point of obscenity around his thick cock. It shouldn’t even be able to take him, not when you’re so small, so fucking tight. It’s a fucking miracle you’d even taken a toy before. He’d make you film that next. All desperate, fucking yourself on silicon while you drooled over a picture of him. It was sweet that you’d been trying to prepare yourself to take him and you were still a shaking, needy mess.

Tears well in your eyes as he thumbs at your swollen little clit, he feels your pussy clench around him, already so fucking keyed up. He should be good. He should make love to you, nice and slow, like a good boy. He’s starting to think he’s not a good boy, not at all. “Just lay there and take it, yeah? Just look nice and pretty for the camera.”

You cry out when he pulls back only to drive back in, hard and deep. His pace is relentless as he fucks into your cunt— warm and wet and tight and fucking perfect. He honestly shouldn’t have waited, he should’ve fucked you the first night you offered yourself up to him— sweet and needy and clinging off his shoulder like you were his girlfriend.

“A-Art, fuck—“ You cry out, fisting your pretty hands into the frilly duvet, as he bullies himself into you. “Oh, god, fuck, A-Art, it’s too much— I-I can’t—“ A strangled moan seems to rip itself from your throat as your head falls back against the pillows.

He grins. “Yeah? Don’t tell me, honey, tell the camera.”

You whine, turning your head away as embarrassment rips through you. It’s mean, keeping it trained on you while you’re so fucking vulnerable. He grabs your chin, holds it in place as he fucks into you, deeper, rougher. It punches out gasps from your pretty open mouth— Ah! Ah! Ah! Over and over and over.

He pops your cheek, not too hard, but enough to draw your attention back from him and away from your dizzying thoughts. “Tell the camera how good it feels to have my big cock in that little pussy of yours, yeah?

“It feels— ngh— I love it,” you have pretty fat tears slipping down your cheeks as he drills into you. “You’re so big, I— God, fuck— I feel you in my stomach. Here—“ You grab his hand, move it to press against the bottom of your stomach. He can’t feel anything, not except warm skin beneath his, but he groans at your words, at the implication that he’s so deep he’s in your fucking guts.

He has to bite his tongue so hard he tastes blood. He knows he’s going to cum, knows that he’s not going to last or show off epic, manly stamina and impress you. Not that you give a shit, but he wants to set a standard for whatever fucking loser you fuck next. He’d have next time, and as many other times as he wanted. You’d keep coming back for it, for him.

He struggles to manhandle you the way he needs while holding onto the camera. He tosses it into the sheets so he can press your knees up to your chest. “Hold them— yeah, that’s it, fuck— feels good.” You’re so obedient, holding your legs up for him so he can get deeper. Your eyes roll back, flutter shut. He fumbles to grab the camera, to immortalize you like this.

Your cunt squeezes around him, makes his rhythm falter as he struggles to fend off his orgasm. God, he just wants to bury himself deep and rut into you, to cum deep and hard, leave you dripping with him. It’s about him… but it’s about you too. He’d be good, he’d make you cum.

“Tell me how bad you need to cum. Fucking beg me for it,” He groans, rubbing at your clit with a calloused thumb.

You whine, squeezing around his cock as he draws you closer and closer. “Need it, Art. It feels so good— you’re so fucking perfect, feel so perfect inside of me. Wanna cum for you, around your cock, wanna show you how good you feel. Please, please, god, I want it, I want to feel it, Art. Want you to cum inside of me, need it so bad— I fucking dream about it, about you. You’re so much better, you’re everything I want, Art, fucking claim me. I want you to.”

Art wanted to pull out. He did. He was going to glaze your pussy with his cum, get it on video, swipe his fingers through it and make you taste it. But Jesus Christ, you fucking ruined that idea. He cums suddenly, practically collapses on top of you as he fucks into your cunt, spilling himself deep inside of you. And like the perfect fucking toy you are, you cum too, milking him for all he’s worth, walls clenching down around his cock as he lazily ruts into you.

He pants, stays buried inside of you as he tries to catch his breath. He’d never cum inside someone before— he was too afraid of knocking someone up. He’d always had the self control to pull out, but he lost himself in fucking you, in the tight grip of your pussy around him. Christ, that was bad.

When he pulls out, a thick gush of his cum follows, pearly white, dripping down your ass and to the bed. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them, you’ve tugged a blanket over yourself shyly. Looking so demure, so sweet, batting your lashes up at him expectantly.

The camera lays dropped and forgotten on the bed, he goes and presses the stop button on the camera and you grab at his arm. “Do you want to stay the night?” You ask with a shy bite of your lip. “I told Izzy to fuck off, so she’s with her girlfriend. We’ve got the dorm for the night, so you can stay.”

Art makes a face akin to annoyance as he redresses, tugging on his boxers and sweats. His shirt is somewhere… he can’t focus. “I’m not your boyfriend.”

Your eyes widen, you swallow as heat floods your cheeks. “Yeah, I mean, I know,” you stammer. “I just thought…”

His jaw ticks. “Don’t do that, then. This is just about fucking.

Art watches the sad little nod, the tiniest twitch of your nose as you fight the rush of tears to your eyes. “I know that, Art,” you say sadly, and you’re trembling again. “I just wish you’d stay for a bit. I’m… I feel a lot right now. I’ve never… I’ve never felt this before I just want—“

“What do you want? A hug, a kiss?” He watches you sniffle sadly, nod and mutter a watery, yeah. He sighs, stops searching for his shirt, and pulls you against his chest. You feel so warm, so vulnerable as you shake and cry hot tears against his chest. He frowns, pulls back, and presses his lips to yours, quick and chaste. “I’m not doing this again if you keep acting like this.”

You sniffle and nod. “Okay, I know, I won’t do it again.” He kisses the crown of your head. Grabs a random shirt from the top of your laundry basket, grabs the camera, and heads for the door. You watch him leave with a pouty, wobbly little frown and get up to redress. You find his Stanford Tennis shirt partly beneath your bed and pull it on. It’s big, fits you like a hug, smells so boyish and warm. You lay back down on the bed he just fucked you on and breathe deep, let his smell flood your senses. It feels a little like being wanted.

AURRRRR this was so much longer than I thot <3

Anyways. Love pat’s sister au, feel free to send me any asks you want about these messy bitches <3

🐞 anon i love u

[forever-rogue]

Hi babes! So I’ve had this idea running around my brain for days.

Basically Cooper Howard and the reader knew each other pre-apocalypse (up to you wether it was romantic or platonic) but after the bombs go off, the reader makes it to a vault where she is put in a cryopod for 200 years to see that the rest of her vault is dead from asphyxiation (I definitely didn’t think of this by playing fallout 4). So she escapes and later finds Cooper (she recognises him and then realises it’s him), it’s up to you how it goes from there 🫶🏻.

Anyway, I love your work! Hope you’re doing great! 💗

AN | I love this concept. Enjoy❤️

Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader

Warnings | language; mentions of canon typical violence

Word Count | 3.1k

Masterlist | Main 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind, sugar,” Cooper came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before resting his chin on your shoulder. You made a small sound of content before leaning into him and turning your head to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

“I’m just…thinking,” you whispered before turning around so you were facing him. The warm evening breeze swirled around the two of you as you leaned against the porch railing, and looked down the Hollywood hills. He took your face in his hands, brushing his thumb along your cheek.

“You do that a lot,” he teased as you rolled your eyes in amusement, “too much thinking ain’t good for you.”

“Well, between the two of us, one of us has to use a brain cell once in a while,” he scoffed as he gently squeezed your cheeks before pressing a kiss to your lips. When he let go, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, kissing him a few more times, “I love you, you know?”

“I know,” he confirmed with a soft nod, “I love you too, sweetheart. You gonna tell me what you’re thinking about?”

“I suppose,” you sighed lightly, resting your hands on his chest, “do you think that...it seems silly, but do you think that it'll ever happen? The nuclear war. Or do you think it’s all just a big pissing contest?”

“I think,” he took one of your hands and brought it to his lips in order to press a kiss to your knuckles, “that you worry too much too often.”

“I know,” you agreed, “I know I do. I just can't help it sometimes. What if something happens?”

“If anything were to happen, we’d face it together and figure it out,” he promised and while you liked the idea of his sweet words, it didn’t totally alleviate your worries. He’d been trying to convince himself as much as you.  It had been a constant in his mind as well. He wasn’t as good of a liar as he believed he was.

“Rest assured Cooper Howard,” you whispered softly, “that I will always find you and be with you. No matter what life brings.”

He pressed his forehead to yours and let out a small sigh. You echoed the sound sweetly before kissing him again, “I promise, Coop.”

“I promise too.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Cooper?” your brow furrowed as you looked at the tall figure standing in front of you. The first time seeing a Ghoul had almost caused you to have a heart attack; you hadn’t been expecting to see someone so…crispy. Being asleep for the last two hundred years hadn’t prepared you for half the things you’d seen in the short time since you’d escaped Vault 111. Like the radroaches - seriously? Weren’t those things bad enough normal? Nature had definitely fucked up with that one. 

Some things you could get used to easily, but other things were definitely going to take time. Two hundred years had passed and you hadn’t experienced a single thing. In some ways it felt like you’d been a lamb left to slaughter. 

After you’d gotten over your initial shock at the Ghouls, you’d realized, with a heavy heart, that they were just people too. People had suffered unfortunate circumstances but they were still just people…mostly. Realistically you’d been rather lucky when it came down to it. You had a long nap while others suffered.

But you’d recognize him anywhere; you’d memorized every part of him so many years ago. You weren’t sure if you could ever forget him. 

But this…this wasn’t who you were expecting to see. Honestly, you didn’t expect to see him ever again, but here he was…alive and breathing. Maybe.

“Cooper,” you took a step closer while he took a step back, his hand brushing along the holster at his side. You held up your hands in a meek attempt to show your innocence; it still made your heart constrict to see his response to you, “i-it’s me.”

“I’m ain’t fallin’ for that one, sweetheart,” he drawled, causing a frown to tug down the corners of your mouth, “I know when I’m hallucinating and I’m not about to go feral.”

“What are you…talking about?” you watched in confusion as he reached into his pocket and grabbed a small vial before downing it in one go. He tossed the bottle to the side, letting it clink off the side of a building, “I don't ... I don’t know what’s going on! I don’t understand anything here, but I know it’s you. I’d know you anywhere.”

He made a sound at the back of his throat as he blinked a few times, still looking at you as if he was trying to decide if he’d already gone feral or whatever it was called. You wondered if he would even possibly shoot you. 

“That’s impossible,” he said quietly as he studied you. It was like you were frozen in time - you looked exactly the same as you did two hundred years ago. It wasn’t possible for you to look like that when he looked like…a monster, “you look just like her but you can’t be her.”

“Cooper Howard,” you sighed in exasperation, running a hand through your hair. You’d always done that and he’d seen that look on your face a thousand times before, “I don’t know exactly what happened to me. I-I woke up and I was in one of those weird vaults that they used to talk about and there was no else there. A couple of skeletons and a bunch of these giant cockroaches-”

“Radroaches.”

“Radroaches,” you rolled your eyes and that almost had him let down his guard, “and I got out. I don’t know what year it is and I don’t know what’s happened. I’m just here. And I have no fucking clue what I’m doing or where I’m going or what’s even happening in the world anymore. But I found you. I know it’s you. I told you that I’d always find you.”

He allowed himself to relax as he tried to put the pieces together to see if your story made sense. The worst part of it all was that it made sense. The day the life as he’d always known it stopped, he hadn’t seen you. But he knew that you’d been at the Vault-Tec headquarters that day. It made sense. It made sense.

He hated that. Hated that you were forced to experience this strange new world, and even more that you had been all but abandoned to figure it out for yourself. But he couldn’t deny that there was a palpable feeling running through his entire being at the sight of you. Your smile was just as pretty as he remembered; he thought about it a lot. Thought about you a lot, still to this day, despite the fact that it had been literal centuries. 

He’d accepted that you were dead a long time ago. But here you were, a ghost of a life that once was. 

You let out a nervous laugh at his silence, feeling like a fool, “are you gonna say anything or am I just going to keep standing here like an idiot?”

“You should turn back around and walk to the nearest vault and pray that they take you in,” was all he managed to choke out as you felt the tears start to sting at the back of your eyes. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to figure out what to possibly even say to him, “you ain’t cut out for his world. You weren’t made for it. You ain’t gonna survive up here on the surface.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you stomped your foot, an unwitting little habit that you had, “you want me to just walk away?”

“Yeah,” he pulled the brim of his hat lower, voice gruff, “I do.”

“Oh,” you scoffed, trying to hold back all that you were feeling, “and what? You’re cut out for this world?”

“Look at me,” he growled deeply, “I’m a fuckin’ monster made for this world.”

You flinched at the sound of the self hatred in his voice. He wasn’t anything like you’d remembered or expected, but he was still your Cooper. 

“You should get going, darlin’.”

You turned on your heel, ready to walk…somewhere. Anywhere other than there, left to be humiliated.

“Tell me one thing,” you turned back to face him, finding that he was still watching you intently, “what year is it?”

“2296.”

Your heart almost stopped for a moment as you tried not to panic. 

Over two hundred years since you’d last walked the world. You’d been sleeping for over two hundred years while Cooper had been suffering. You had so many questions, but more than anything your heart hurt for everything that he’d been through.

You offered him a nod before walking away, this time for real, trying to figure out what the actual fuck you were going to do.

Cooper watched you go wordlessly, eyes on you until you were but a small speck in the distance.

“Who was that?” Lucy appeared at his side along with the canine companion they'd named Dogmeat, a curious expression on her face, “did you know her?”

“It was no one,” the sharpness of his voice caught Lucy off guard and she raised her eyebrows in question, “just lost.”

“Okie dokie,” she hitched her backpack higher onto her shoulders, “we should keep going before it gets dark.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with her, finding his heart wasn’t quite in it, “get a move on kid.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was a weird world. Like really weird. There were creatures that you'd encountered that appeared to be descendants of the ones you'd known during your previous life. Roaches definitely weren't supposed to be the size of dogs. Dogs really shouldn't have been up to your shoulders. And that thing that you'd encountered that was maybe a fish? Wild.

It was all so much to get used to and it felt like you were a child all over again. You had met a kind woman that had taken you into her diner (or whatever a diner was these days) and helped to get you back on your feet. The first order of business? Getting rid of the vault suit; not'd noticed an immediate shift in how people treated you once the suit was gone. 

The one thing that hadn't changed? Men. Men continued to the worst, leering shamelessly after you. Looks like not even radiation can evolve that out of men.  

You still had not clue what you were going to do with your life or anything really, but at least now you had a safe space to learn to adapt and overcome. Now you just had about two hundred years of history to catch up on. Learning about places called the New California Republic and New Vegas definitely told you that something big had happened.

Everything else, you hoped, would fall into place over time. You did, however, have your suspicions that Vault-Tec were nothing but a bunch of liars confirmed. There was that at least. And you'd learned what a Ghoul was - what Cooper was. It didn't sound like it had been a fun reality for him.

At least if you were going to start aging naturally, you wouldn’t have to suffer in this hell forever.

You were helping around the diner one afternoon when the doors swung open to reveal Cooper, along with a young woman and a dog. Funny, you thought to yourself, Cooper had always adored dogs.

The rag dropped from your hand as blinked wordlessly at them. Neither you nor Cooper said anything, silence thick and heavy between the two of you.

“Do you have any pie?” The young woman asked, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips as she looked around, “and maybe some water?”

“S-sure,” you stammered nervously pointing at the table towards the back, “I'll get that pie.”

And just like that, Cooper was back in your life.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Without Cooper, you weren't quite sure what to do. Honestly, you had been sure what you'd do once you left the vault along, but you figured when you found him that things would fall into place…or make a little more sense anyway. But as you'd made your way through the skeletons that littered the vault, you weren't entirely convinced that this wasn't some sort of fever dream.

And Cooper had turned his back on you.

Only to come back to rescue you.

“What happened?” He asked, his voice dropping softly, almost like he was letting down his guard, “how did you end up in one of those pods?”

“I don't know,” you admitted, wiping your hands on your knees as you looked at him, “I-I remember bits and pieces but not the whole thing.”

He made a small sound of acknowledgment but didn’t say much else. You’d been wracking your brain for weeks now - ever since you’d escaped the vault - about what exactly happened before you took a centuries long nap.

“The last thing I really remember was speaking with that Maclean kid, the one that had recently started working at Vault-Tec. We got into an argument about something and he shoved me around and then…I think he hit me. The next thing I can remember is waking up.”

“Life is funny, ain’t it,” he pinched his brow before looking at you with a pained expression, “Hank Maclean is still alive. The girl I’ve been traveling with…she’s his kid. I think everyone finally found just what kind of a person he is. And it ain’t a good one.”

“He’s still alive,” you breathed out heavily, trying to decide if you were angry with him or…in a twisted way, thankful. You supposed the last two hundred years could have been a lot worse than just sleeping through them. But then again, if you’d been awake and aging, you’d have been long dead by now, “this is all so…weird.”

Silence fell over the two of you for a few bit, as you started at the roaring fire. It was dangerous, or so you’d been told by almost everyone you’d encountered. But somehow with Cooper by yourself, you didn’t feel scared or nervous. 

“I looked for you,” he said after a short while as your attention snapped to him, “for a long time. Decades.” 

“Really?” your voice cracked on the simple question as he nodded.

“After a while, I realized you were probably dead,” your heart twisted at that, “it was the only logical answer. Unless you’d ended up like me and I would never wish that on you.”

“What happened, Cooper?” you asked softly. You wanted to know but you also didn’t want to push him either. You still had so many questions about this strange new world, “you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Your curiosity was one of the things I always loved about you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, almost sounding just as you remembered, “to put it simply, radiation. I got a little bit too much of that radiation and then I became like one of them radroaches, adapting and surviving.”

“Radiation,” you repeated softly, “fuck me. Am I going to-”

“You’ll be fine,” he reassured you, “radiation levels are livable now.”

“Oh,” you swallowed thickly as you gave him a nod, “that’s good…I think.”

“You don’t deserve to have to live in such a world,” he caught your eye and looked at you intently, “in a way I wished you’d never have had to experience it. It would have been easier if you’d just…died that day they dropped the bombs. But in a selfish way, I’m glad you’re here, sweetheart. Still the prettiest face I’ve ever seen.”

You snorted in amusement as your face warmed up, “still the biggest flirt I’ve ever met Cooper Howard. In a selfish way, I’m glad you’re here too.”

“You’re telling me that you’re happy to see his ugly old face?” he asked, his voice turning gruff and bitter, “darlin’, you could be looking at a gulper and it’d be a prettier sight.”

“What’s a gulper?” your mind reeled with possibilities of what in the actual hell a gulper was. 

“I…nevermind,” you didn’t need to know about those horrors just yet, “there’s a lot of things that are prettier than I am.”

“Agree to disagree,” you insisted with a soft laugh, “I’m glad you’re here, you know. Even if it sucks and this whole world sucks. I’m glad you’re still here. Selfish or not.”

You stood up and brushed yourself off before walking over to him and plopping onto the ground next to him so you were facing him. You reached for his hand and took it in yours, giving it a squeeze so tender that it almost made him cry. He never thought he’d get to feel such a touch ever again.

“So,” you whispered softly, “what’s next?”

“You’re not ready to run for the hills and hide?” he joked, half serious.

“Nope,” you promised, “besides, what the fuck am I going to do here by myself? I know nothing about anything anymore.”

“Want to help me and the kind find Hank Maclean?” he asked as your eyebrows raised up, “it’s a long story.”

“I’m in,” you promised, “but there’s one thing I want to do first.”

“And what’s that, sugar?”

“This,” you leaned in and took his face in your hands, before gently leaning and kissing him. When you pulled away he looked at you in surprise, “that’s all.”

“C’mere,” he put his hands on your hips and hauled you onto his lap, “you should know better than to start something you can’t finish.”

“Oh, I fully intended to finish,” you grinned, “I’ve missed you, Coop.”

“I’ve missed you every day for a long time,” he sighed, “I’m not letting you go again.”

“Good.”

[ma1dita]

solipsism

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.1k

summary: (post-TLT) drink responsibly… trouble doesn’t; you punch luke in this lol (novelization spoilers? kinda canon-compliant)

The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. Luke visits you four times during college, in a timeline opposite to yours (doctor x river song-coded) (lore expansion & explanation here) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: i hurt myself with this one. anyways its canon (to me) that we’re roommates now !!!! more to come like i promised even during my birthday break ! scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(post 3/6, edited/betad @hotchfiles )

—

solipsism (the idea that only one’s mind is sure to exist)

You didn’t mean to send a prayer out into the world so strong that it would will an apparition of an Olympian, but burning cookies seems to be your specialty. Arguably, they weren’t the good kind, just the ones you grab in the freezer aisle of Walmart, and still, somehow they set your fire alarm off. Opening a window and waving through the smoke— Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home was standing next to the rickety dining table you bought off Facebook marketplace. 

“Holy shit, you scared me!” 

There’s mirth in her eyes at your reaction, though for all you know it could be annoyance—it’s not often that an immortal could be badgered enough to reveal themselves for an accident like this one.

“Dionysus was right. You’re too much like him for your own good,” she grins, taking a seat at the table like she’s an old friend. There’s a warmth to her unlike anyone you’ve met before—fire crackling in her eyes and an aura of serenity swaddling the air that you’ve never felt before in your student accomodations.

“I’m sorry I just… with all due respect, what’s going on?”

You go to toss the hot tray of cookies in the trash bin, before hesitating and putting them on your nicest plate. A gentle shove slides them over the table to the goddess, and she takes a crunch out of one happily.

“You were praying,” she states, like its common knowledge, “so strongly, in fact, I thought I’d make a visit to one of my most loyal devotees. Though in this case, you’re the object of his devotion, yes?”

Your hands are clasped across your lap and a familiar feeling spreads through you, then she jerks her hand up and points, “There. You’re doing it again. Y’know, it’s about time you start reciprocating the effort. Hermes’ son prays for you with intention.” You were thinking about Luke before she appeared—and hope glimmered like a tiny open flame. It’s still there, in the slow beating of your heart.

“He’s waging war with the gods. I don’t think he prays to them anymore,” you reason. Luke's offerings to the hearth must have been extinguished by the wrath he’s rained on Camp Half-Blood by now. The perfect storm.

“Not when it comes to you. Mortals never fail to surprise me. But it seems you’re a special case, my sweet. He’s made a home of you.”

To love Luke feels like having to keep a secret and never being able to tell anyone, but Hestia reaches for your hands across the table and looks at you knowingly.

“When I gave up my seat on Olympus for your father it wasn’t a sign of weakness, even if I did it so that others could be happy. I think your soul is a lot like mine in that you’ve given up so much of what you want to protect others. In turn, he’s doing the best he can to protect you; I listen to him every day, sweet girl. You are not weak for loving him still. There are generations of strength in your bones.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I search for him in everyone I meet and I’m not sure I’ll ever find that type of love again.”

These are thoughts you’d never told anyone—not Annabeth, not your father, not even yourself and surely never aloud.

“I hope you never do,” the goddess says, and you know it too.

i. no winter lasts forever (a night out after a drive home from virginia)

Flick. Flick.

“Come on, Hestia. Not you too. Don’t fail me now,” you mumble. The frigid metal of your zippo lighter rubs against your thumbs as you cup it in your hands, shielding the tiny flame that fights the harsh winter wind. Trying to focus as you lean against the brick of the Inferno, you take a deep inhale of smoke to warm your bones. Healing was never supposed to be easy.

Breathe in.

It’s somewhat of a routine you’ve made since getting back from visiting Annie. You’re a regular at this pub now—not even acclimated to the ins and outs of your sleepy college town, and though you don’t know the name of the hall your classes are in, you do know there’s a barstool in the corner of the Inferno with your name on it. There’s something funny about using your father’s gift as a form of fake id, and you wonder if he knows how heavily you indulge in your vices. Five vodka redbulls down the hatch have your knees feeling weak under the alley light until a stranger looms over you like a shadow.

“Those things are gonna kill you one day.”

Breathe out.

“Gods willing,” you laugh, stumbling over your boots and Luke catches you like he was never meant to let you go in the first place. The leather of his jacket is musky and his hair is buzzed. 

Either you were wasted or uncaring of who he was (both), you toss him your car keys and climb into the passenger seat. It’s a silent ride to your apartment besides you giving him the directions and Luke wonders how bad he must have hurt you for you to lay out for a stranger and waste away like this. But he’s the farthest thing from a stranger, even in this error in time and you’re still the daughter of the god of wine so after the third time you try to put your key in the lock he helps you because he hopes you’ll let him in.

“Y’know Annie would get a kick out of your haircut. Come inside.”

You’ve always been able to see right through him.

He’s standing in the hallway with his hand around your waist and he’s already broken too many of the titan’s orders by being here, so he scoffs, “You’re not gonna remember this by morning.” But you leave the door open anyway, dragging him by the wrist and your hand still feels the same in his even after all this time. What more is there to resist when there’s not much left of him to lose? 

This is the last time, he reminds Kronos, and there are monstrous hands around his brain, but yours are still gently holding his heart. The little part of his soul that hasn’t been eaten away holds on for a bit longer, tethered to your being by the way your hands are tied.

“I can, if you want me to.” 

He looks ready for war, and he is— yet you have him following you around the tiny living room almost in a trace as your arms loop around his neck. Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if you’d want to see him sober, especially when his absence is still fresh for you.

“Baby you look different from the last time we met,” you slur, stepping onto his feet as he takes you for a spin around the coffee table, dancing in the quiet. He’s older than you’ve ever seen him, voice deeper and colder. This is not the boy that ran from you in the forest many months ago. This is a man who’s seen horrors you haven’t lived through yet. You can deduce that he’s the cause of them too.

“So do you. Though still as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers like he’ll get struck for saying it. Your eyes are unfocused as he inspects your face, still soft and young with hope. The titan grips his features now, almost burning through his sense of self—though it’s not tangible he wonders if you could see it.

“I see you all the time. I just… usually have to drink enough to make it feel real. I just miss you.”

He looks pained at your words, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard you. Luke pushes you towards your room, an aura of darkness spreading through him like fire but he relents, pushing past the flames. He’s on borrowed time now, but Luke would gladly waste those minutes tucking you into bed.

Lifting your arms up, he pulls an old shirt of his over your shoulders, and his eyes catch onto the fact that you’re still wearing the dragon scale necklace he made you. Luke digs through your medicine cabinet while you sloppily wash your face and his calloused hands rub serums and moisturizer into your cheeks like how you taught him once upon a time. These are the things he won’t forget. Kronos can take it all away, as long as he gets to keep you. You lean against his chest and shut your eyes, scared that if you open them again he won’t be there.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Are you mine?”

“I’m always going to be yours,” he says with no hesitation, “Four years later, and there is still not one living thing worth losing you,” he says, lips chasing after your fingertips as you trace his jaw. Your eyes flutter in exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes survey your room and he finds traces of you that he’s missed as he rubs your back lovingly like he has all the time in the world.

Your hands cup his face, making him look at you, and he surrenders himself to you as you pull him into a kiss. He’s a ticking time bomb about to detonate in your arms. The warnings that Kronos is beating into his head is nothing compared to the pain of knowing he won’t be with you for much longer. And he kisses you like he could save you from his blaze by doing so, lips and tongue and shattered breath saying I’m here, and this is real. Maybe your worst vice is not being able to wean yourself off the taste of him.

“Tell me what I need to hear. Even if it’s not true…Even if you’re not real,” you say between gasps, and your position on his lap makes him wonder why he’d ever give the world up and burn it down when it’s sitting right here and staring at him with violet eyes.

“It’s always going to be you and me. I’ll love you until the end of my days and then some.”

You laugh in the way that drives him crazy—though he already is, for loving you still. Luke lost all sense of himself when he left camp four years ago. All that remains is you, pushing him so that his back hits the bedspread. He lets you consume what’s left of him, and he’s on fire.

You wake up the next morning with a jolt. It’s still winter, and you’re still alone but despite the chill, you feel warm.

ii. autumn years (with a familiar visitor who finally shows up on time)

Knock, knock.

There’s someone at the door, but your date isn’t supposed to be here for another 10 minutes.

“Babe, someone’s here for you!” your roommate Jo calls out, and you tell her it’s fine to let them in.

The pantyhose clings to the lotion on your thighs and you fix the bracelet on your wrist, stepping out from the bathroom hollering, “You’re early, Kit! Don’t tell me you’re skipping to the good part; I’m a lady i–”

“Who’s Kit?”

Luke’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom and his eyes flit to the reflection of your naked back peeking through the undone zipper of your dress. You look stunning, lips painted red and eyes smoky, but you’re also furious. Too bad he’s always thought you looked extra hot when you’re mad.

“None of your business. As you can see, I don’t exactly have the time for this, Castellan.”

He shrugs, closing the door behind him gently and with the raise of his brow, Luke is leering at you like a teenage boy. Respectfully, of course. The glint of celestial bronze against his hip reminds you who he’s become though.

“I’ll make the time if you say the words, Trouble.”

Sighing, you step forward, but then he does that thing again from the last time you saw him out on sea, twisting the crick in his neck like he has to resist your touch.

“You’re still funny. Some old habits die hard I guess,” you scoff, turning and lifting your hair out of the way so that he can zip you up. He opts to not touch you, sliding the dress closed until it fits against your body. You think you can feel his fingers ghost above your skin, and goosebumps rise where he leaves and his breath is warm on the back of your neck.

“Leave your weapons at the door. I run a tight ship, unlike you.” 

Gliding away from him while his hands are still in the air, you turn and sit at the edge of your bed, crossing your legs as you nod at him. Luke picks up the pair of heels next to where he sets the sword against the wall, and like it’s nothing out of the sort, he gets on his knees. You offer a foot to him while he speaks, “I could tell by the taser on your bedside table. You’ve killed monsters before, why a taser?”

There’s freckles on his tanned cheeks and he smells like the sun. You wonder what he’s done to come see you tonight.

“I’ve found out that not all monsters are mythical. When…are you?”

His eyes dart away from yours, securing the buckles on your ankles, and his touch sears through the mesh of your pantyhose.

“A few months ahead.”

There’s an eyelash on his nose, and your finger reaches out to touch it, but he flinches away. Face pulling into a frown, you spit, “You never slow down enough to let me catch up with you, huh?”

You can hear the microwave whirring in the kitchen, your roommate none the wiser of the sound of two hearts breaking. The both of you suddenly realize this is the first time you two have been alone (and the same age) since he left camp. There’s a silent question of if it will ever happen again as he gets up from the floor.

“So you’re seeing other people. Must’ve been easy, h—”

You punch him in the face before he finishes speaking, and all he can do is laugh. You would never let him off so easily.

“Fuck you. What, you think you can just hop in here and act like everything’s okay? What do you want, Castellan? For me to grovel at your feet and beg for you to fix what you broke?”

And you’re right, he supposes. This is the closest to peace that you’ll get in this life you’ve created without him. He won’t be able to take you on nice dinner dates like Kit can, or hold your hand without feeling like fate is going to smite him for existing. You scoff at the lack of his response.

“What happens next?”

Luke watches you chew on your lip, and even if he shouldn’t touch you in fear that you’ll will away his reason for defecting, by the gods does he want to.

“What do you mean?” he mutters. The cord of his necklace is tucked into your dress now that he looks closer.

“If I’m right,” you say (and it’s rare that you’re not), “each version of you that comes to see me knows less, and each time I see you I learn more. You were 23 last time. Why didn’t you see me at 22?” You know he won’t have an answer, but this is the only time you’ll be able to ask the real him. The one that’s yours, just a few steps ahead.

“There’s already been a lot that’s happened since I last saw you.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you offer him, like he hasn’t already. He can feel the bruise blooming on his cheekbone and he grimaces with what he’s about to say.

“Never intentionally. I’ll try not to.”

It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth and you feel stupid with how empty you feel just watching him. He’s made a home of you, choosing moments in time to visit, but when he inevitably leaves, then what? Luke taught you how to be a home, forgetting you exist until it’s convenient and now there are things about yourself that you can’t unlearn yet don’t know what to do with.

Your roommate knocks on your door asking if you want a shot of vodka before your date starts, and Luke is already walking towards it since he’s overstayed his welcome. He raises his sword to open a portal but you shake your head.

“Go out the way you came,” you swallow, fiddling with the copper pendant around your neck, “and take the purple umbrella in the hall. It’s raining outside.”

When you walk into the kitchen moments later, the front door shuts gently and Jo’s sitting at the table with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

“Is he warming up the car? Your date’s hot as fuck, babe,” she grins, steam coating her glasses.

Knock, knock.

Your phone buzzes and there’s another knock at the door. Kit is 15 minutes late.

iii. auld lang syne (ringing in the new year with an old friend, or more)

Your apartment is filled with friends and acquaintances, but who the fuck cares anyway? There’s 10 minutes to midnight and you’re crossed out of your mind. Holding onto a half-empty bottle of prosecco, your heels clomp over to the window in the living room as you crawl onto the fire escape. 

Clack, clack.

The air is chilly as you hug yourself, and you hear someone step out onto the stairs behind you. 

“What are you doing out here alone?”

You sigh, not even turning to look at him, “What are you doing here, period?”

He takes the bottle of prosecco out of your hands, making you swivel your head to look at him as he takes a big gulp. He’s younger again, and it makes you laugh at how fucked up your luck must be to never be able to see him when you want. It’s always been on Luke’s terms.

“You’re too young to be drinking that,” you drawl, knees bumping against his when he takes a seat next to you. Long Island is quiet at night, and the lack of city lights is nice when you can see the stars so clearly. Music blares through your JBL speaker in the living room, and the sound of cheers gets louder when The Neighborhood starts playing.

“We used to do worse,” he laughs, but something in it sounds hollow. The breeze picks up and you shiver, taking the bottle back from him and swigging it.

“All these visits…you sure do know how to make a girl feel special. But you never come in the summer.” 

He clears his throat, before leaning back on his elbows, “ I haven’t gone a summer without you since we were 14.” This Luke doesn’t know what’s ahead of him yet, but you realize that he’s right. Even now, he keeps up the habit of pissing you off and raising hell on Camp Half-Blood every summer. You notice he’s not wearing his camp beads, and he notices you shiver again in the chill. 

Clack, clack.

Your heels rattle the metal of the fire escape as you readjust your position. He takes off his jacket to sling it around your shoulders and neither of you realize you’ve missed the countdown until fireworks burst in the sky above you. The red and blue reflect off the planes of his face, but what stands out to you is the orange of his shirt, and you comprehend now where he just came from.

“I had to see you. I didn’t get to say goodbye when I left,” he says, and you take another sip before handing him the bottle to finish off. The only new years’ kiss you’re getting is through the lips that hold the last remaining drops of prosecco. 

You nod, remembering it all too well as you both watch the fireworks in silence. He wasn’t able to watch them properly the last time he was with you, Annie, and Percy just a few hours prior.

iv. spring cleaning (only big days are ahead for the both of you) 

It’s quiet in your college apartment this morning. 

The moving boxes are half-packed and stacked against the wall of the entryway and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the French press on your kitchen counter permeates the air. Perhaps the idea of caffeine is the last thing on your mind, hands twitching as they smooth over the black polyester of your graduation regalia. There’s a few hours still before the ceremony, but you’ve never liked being unprepared. Pollux is driving your dad down the Island because despite the war you’ll inevitably be fighting in once you cross the stage and get your degree, D specifically told Zeus that he’d wage another if he was made to miss your big day.

Parting your hair to fit under the ugly graduation cap, the tassel swings in front of your face as you grab a few bobby pins from the side table. A golden medallion of Castor’s smiling face almost whips into your cornea and you stifle a laugh. D said in his Iris message last night that all three of them would cheer so loud you’d be able to hear it from Elysium (and honestly, jokes aside—he probably has a way of making that happen). A staggered breath leaves your lungs, and you’re filled with anticipation, though you’re not sure what for. 

Time is a thief and you know that too well by now. After all, you’ve spent the past four years running from the truth of your heritage—dodging monsters between study sessions and grief welcoming you every time you come home. Four years later, and who are you trying to fool? While walking across that stage later you might as well take a bow. After all, your ex-boyfriend is the reason why there’s going to be a war of both blood and ichor, mortal and undying and still, you find yourself in the middle of it. You’ve found yourself fielding questions this last semester like dodging celestial bronze, the questions always a little too close to home and the answers you give are too entertaining to be considered the truth.

So, what are your future plans? 

Oh no big deal, just going home and dealing with generations-old family drama. If it drives me crazy enough I might enlist! 

Gods. 

How do you even articulate that these past few years were those future plans? That you didn’t expect to be alive this long, much less have the comfort of feeling secure enough to dream… It’s been years since you’ve had a good dream to work towards with a boy you once knew holding your hand through it all. But the expensive piece of paper you’ll be receiving later feels fake somehow. 

Who does that belong to? Surely not you…surely, someone who dreams without bearing the weight that comes with it. Someone who doesn’t have to look over their shoulder everytime they walk to work in the mornings, who can convince children that monsters aren’t real without having to lie. Psychology was a great field to learn from the mortal side of things—to know the reasons why brain chemistry affects us so deeply instead of just willing it away with the touch of your fingers. You like making people feel better. But who can ever do that for you?

A gust of wind sweeps through your room, the multicolored tassels hanging off your neck swaying from the force and you shut your eyes knowing he’s there again. Citrus and musk, and something that’s just him. He knocks over your hamper, cussing under his breath until his eyes follow your motionless figure in front of the mirror.

“Shit. I can explain, um… I thought you’d still be asleep,” Luke sputters, his converse falling into your laundry pile like quicksand. He bends over, stuffing your pajamas and sweatshirts back into the bin with fidgety hands as his eyes take a quick scan of your room. There are no pictures of you and him on the bedside table. For a moment, he wonders what that means but then his cheeks redden when he picks up a pair of your lacy underwear. He shoves that down too.

“Big day today. You know I can’t sleep when I know something is about to happen,” you smile wistfully, and you keep your eyes shut for longer, because like this, it’s almost like he’s actually there in real time. In a world where things went your way, this would be his apartment too, and his clothes would be scattered around your shared bedroom like how they used to back in cabin 12. You always used to put them on The Chair, as he would call it—but Luke’s known to make a mess of your life regardless of your efforts.

“When isn’t there? Something’s always going on when you’re around, Trouble.”

Click. Scattered memories flicker in your head like images through a view-finder, spinning through your vision as you hear the sound of his laughter, gently tapping away at your heart again. Click. In the ones you pre-selected, he’s draped in sunlight, honey eyes sweet and kind, and his kisses are perpetual instead of an indulgence. Click. He’s always wearing faded orange, worn-out, but most of all well-loved. Click.

You open your eyes and they meet his own in the mirror. Time stops for once, letting you catch your breath.

Right now, he looks just as you like to remember him, as you knew him four years ago. Multicolored camp beads are resting easily against his broad neck instead of weighing him down, and he’s wearing the red converse his dad gave him. He’s too young, and so in love with you that it blinds him, but even then…now, he knows the look on your face and it makes him ask, “It’s not my first time visiting you is it?”

“You’re usually more discreet, the door right behind me wouldn’t have been your first option. But you’ve never failed to surprise me before. Tell me about your day, Luke.”

A hesitant smile crosses his face as he sheathes Backbiter against his hip, adjusting under the weight like he’s not used to it yet, and then he speaks, “We ate strawberries in the fields today, straight off the vine, but I argued that the ones you conjure will always taste sweeter to me. You smushed one against my face and I carried you home. You?”

You nod, turning around to face a ghost of your past, and the both of you meet in the middle only a hairs distance away as you admire each other.

“I graduate today. Annabeth’s driving up with her boyfriend and the rest of my family is coming to celebrate.”

He doesn’t know of Percy yet, of Chris’ insanity, of your brother’s death, and the immense hurt he’s caused everyone. The smile that lights up his face makes you realize he thinks he's still a part of this—with you. And you miss him—even when he’s right here, fuck, you miss all the versions of him that have come to visit, even the ones you don’t know of yet. Tears brim your waterline as you take a deep breath; the last thing you want to do is scare him away.

“This was his promise to me. By showing me something I was sure of—and I always knew you’d graduate and make it big. Wanted to see it for myself, baby,” he grins, tangling his fingers with yours like your strings of fate, and though you know the answer to your next question you still take a chance, just in case.

“If I tell you what’s happened since…you. Would it be too late to change your mind?”

“Trouble, do you want me to? Kronos’ plan is already set in motion. I think…” he swallows, and your vision blurs without your permission as tears start to fall. Through the film over your violet eyes, Luke frowns and pulls your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one. He hasn’t done that in years.

“Did I make a mistake? Do I lose you, in the end?”

“Angelface…” you sniff, leaning your cheek against his hand, “You were so scared of losing me that you didn't even stop to think of what losing you would do to me. I lost you so long ago, Luke. And you’re not mine anymore. I don't think you have been in a long time.” In these heels, your forehead is closer to his lips so he kisses that too, hoping that somehow this time he can will away your pain instead of his. He doesn’t know what to do but hold you until you say something again.

“I’ll tell you something you need to hear. And no matter what you say or think, babe—it’s the truth. Even without all the glory in the world I would still be yours. I still am, even if I can’t bear it.”

Though he’s holding you, it somehow feels like the opposite—a purer version of him in your embrace while he holds the broken pieces of you together with his golden touch. Right now, you look into honey instead of gold. The both of you look at each other in the mirror melded together like kintsugi, something good still shining through the cracks of you two together like this.

The sound of keys jangling in the lock of the front door lifts you from his embrace, and with one look you both know its time for him to go; Luke’s brows furrow as he mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, and we’ll be together. I promise.” You nod anyway, hoping at least one of you believe it.

“Go home, Luke. She…I still need you. I’m always gonna.”

He’s already got Backbiter in hand and one foot through time when he looks back at you. Your voice sounds a lot like how it does when you tell him you love him. Luke wonders how long it’s been since you did. Your bedroom door opens with a bang and some laughter.

“Hey troublemaker, you left the dryer on! All your clothes are gonna shrink,” Jo grins, peeking her head through the doorway of your room and she’s looking at you in your graduation gown standing there alone.

“Were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?”

It’s quiet in the apartment again. Your fingernails make indents in your palms, bunching up into fists before you let go. A sad smile crosses your face as you let the settling wind kiss your cheeks, before reality kicks in and everything settles back to how it was before. 

“Just someone I used to know.”

—

“And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.” -Richard Siken

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?)

1/2 luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko@bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

hiiii!! absolutely love your crosshair stuff (i’ve been on a crosshair binge since season three started lol) anyways i was hoping you could write something that’s like post-omega and crosshair escaping tantiss and reuniting with hunter and wrecker (end ep 4) with the prompts

11. I promised to love you forever, and that is a promise I intend to keep.

and

16. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.

like i was thinking crosshair and the reader are married but canon happened so the reader stayed with the bad batch and this would be the first time her and crosshair are seeing each other again since the end of season one at kamino

no rush for any of this btw. thankssss

Hello, hi! Thank you so much for this request. I had something similar going through my mind after the episode aired so was excited to see this drop in!! I hope you enjoy 😊

Never Stopped

When Omega's cryptic message leads to a heartfelt reunion on Ryloth's nearest moon, you didn't expect her to be accompanied by the one man you never thought you'd get to see again.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: spoilers for S3E04, we love a good reunion, inner turmoil, fluff, comfort, pet names.

“I had help.” Omega’s statement hangs in the air until the light sound of footsteps on metal reaches your ears, and you turn alongside Wrecker to watch as someone steps out of the stolen transport.

No. Not someone.

Him.

For a second, you forget how to breathe, unable to tear your eyes away from the man you never dared hope you’d see again. The last time you’d seen him had been after the fall of Kamino, on that blasted platform in the middle of the ocean. You’d pleaded with him to come with you - to leave the Empire’s clutches - but he’d declined. Your stubborn, infuriating husband.

Maker, you’d missed him.

Before you even know what you’re doing, you’re running, crossing the inky darkness between the two ships, closing the distance between you as Crosshair takes the final step down onto the planet’s surface. He doesn’t have time to protest before your arms are around his neck, hauling him into a crushing embrace. His brothers might be wary, but you aren’t.

Crosshair freezes, caught off guard by your affection. In the short time it had taken you to reach him, he’d braced himself for a slap or to be chewed out. This was…unexpected. You’re warm against him, the softness of your body so familiar, as is the scent of your shampoo. Tentatively, he slides his arms around you in return, pulling you close to suffocate all space between you both, soaking up the feeling of having you back in his arms. “Kitten...”

The whispered term of endearment is all it takes, and a heaving sob leaves you before you can stop it.

Everything since the order was given crashes down on you – the shots he’d fired as you scrambled to escape Kamino, how relentlessly he’d chased you across the galaxy, Kamino falling, the distress message he’d sent to your old comms channel…it had felt never-ending.

But it was over now. 

As you bury your face against his chest, the torrent of emotions overwhelms you. There’s a sense of catharsis, a release from the pent-up anguish that had threatened to suffocate you. The weight of his presence feels like a balm to your wounded soul, and with each sob that racks your body, it’s as if a burden is lifted, allowing you to finally exhale the turmoil that had gripped you for far too long.

He’s here. In one piece. Free from the Empire’s clutches, with Omega in tow.

Hunter and Wrecker’s tension eases slightly as they witness the reunion between you and Crosshair, but they’re not ready to let their guard down just yet. They exchange knowing glances before Hunter clears his throat. “We need to go.” He shouts across the distance, feeling guilty for breaking the moment but knowing that the Empire won’t be far behind.

You pull back slightly, hands still clutching desperately at Crosshair as he meets your gaze. He’s never been one to cry, but unshed tears line those sharp eyes you’ve missed so much. Silently, you swipe away your tears with one hand, the other finding his to guide him towards the Marauder. A blur of motion whips past you, and you startle, but with a click of his tongue, Crosshair stills the creature responsible, and a hound falls into step beside him as you lead him back towards the ship.

It feels too good to be true, too easy. The nervousness Crosshair had felt rolling through him as he’d forced himself down the steps of the transport returns. Fingers interlaced with yours, he can feel the skin-warmed metal of your ring. It’s still there after everything.

He feels nauseous as you cross the darkness towards the ship that had once been his home. He glances at Wrecker as you both pass him and the apprehension on his big brother’s face wavers for just a second before Crosshair looks away, unable to stand it.

Hunter has already ushered Omega inside, the young girl saying hello to Gonky, who beeps happily at her return. Crosshair lets you situate him in one of the back seats in the cockpit as Wrecker comes up the ramp, smacking the button to shut it as Hunter takes Tech’s seat and fires up the engines. 

Tech.

Crosshair swallows, bile rising in his throat. His twin is gone. Omega had brokenly told him what had happened during one of her many visits to his cell. Guilt curls through him - his brother had insisted on the mission to Eriadu and had been keen to find him, which ultimately led to his sacrifice.

Crosshair barely registers the ship setting off or the jump to hyperspace.

A soft squeeze of his hand draws his focus, and his head tilts to look across at you. Your wide eyes, which he adores, look at him with concern and something else he can’t quite put his finger on. Hunter and Wrecker are in the pilot and copilot seats, Omega curled in Hunter’s lap as they catch up while Wrecker pets Batcher.

You can practically see Crosshair’s discomfort, so you lead him out into the belly of the ship, closing the cockpit doors behind you to give the pair of you some privacy. “I thought I’d lost you.” You whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you sit side by side on one of the bunks, bodies tilted towards each other.

“Have to try harder than that.” Crosshair’s answer is quick, and the vice-like grip of dread that had encircled his heart slackens as he hears you laugh - it’s a short and sharp sound, nothing like the melodic giggles he’d grown accustomed to during the war, but it’s something. And Maker, does it feel good.

You’d almost forgotten what it was like to be on the receiving end of his quips, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed. But you spot something missing as you turn his hand over in yours. 

His wedding ring is gone.

“They took it from me.” He’s quick to reassure you, seeing the pained expression on your pretty face. He hadn’t even been able to fight to keep it, having woken up on Tantiss without it. The troopers had quickly silenced him whenever he’d asked about its whereabouts.

Silence settles between you both for a moment, your gaze fixed on this hand - on the vacant spot. “We’ll get you a new one,” you state quietly, lifting your eyes to finally meet his.

Crosshair’s brows furrow in disbelief at your words. After everything he’s done and the pain and betrayal, he can’t fathom why you still want to be married to him. Guilt and shame churn in his gut, threatening to overwhelm him. “Why?” he asks, his voice low and raspy, his gaze searching yours for some semblance of an answer.

You reach out and gently cup his cheek, your touch sending shivers down his spine. “I promised to love you forever, and that’s a promise I intend to keep,” you say simply, your eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that Crosshair can’t comprehend. “Despite everything, I still believe in us - in you. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.”

A lump forms in Crosshair’s throat as he struggles to process your words. He’d spent so long convincing himself that he was better off paying for his sins in that cell. But here you are, offering forgiveness and understanding. He searches your eyes for any sign of deceit or resentment but finds unwavering sincerity and love.

Crosshair reaches out, hand shaking as his fingers brush your cheek. “Maybe you’ve hit your head too many times, kitten.” Crosshair quips, a hint of his trademark sarcasm slipping through. Despite the gravity of the moment, he can’t resist teasing you. But deep down, he’s grateful for your forgiveness and unwavering love, even if he doesn’t understand it.

You roll your eyes at his remark, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Maybe you just need a few more hits to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours.” You retort, your tone teasing yet filled with affection.

As the playful banter lingers in the air, a moment of quiet settles between you both, the reality of the situation sinking in. Crosshair’s gaze softens, his hand lingering on your cheek as he soaks in your closeness. “I love you too.” He whispers, his voice barely audible above the hum of the ship’s engines. “I never stopped either.”

Your heart swells with relief and happiness, and with a soft smile, you press a gentle kiss to the back of his hand, feeling the slight tremble beneath your lips. “What happened, my heart?” You ask, your voice soft and concerned, brows drawn down as you watch how he shakes.

Crosshair hesitates for a moment. “They did…things. Some I remember. Some I don’t.” He answers vaguely.

You’re familiar with this game. He doesn’t want to think about it. Doesn’t want to talk about it. And while you know he'll need to one day, today’s not that day. Respecting his unspoken plea not to delve deeper into the horrors he endured, you gently squeeze his hand, offering him a reassuring smile. “We don’t have to talk about it now.” You murmur softly. “But we need to get you out of those awful clothes.” You change the subject, wrinkling your nose. “Handsome you may be, but this is not working.” You make a vague gesture at his outfit.

Crosshair chuckles softly at your remark, the memories chased away for the time being by your attempt to lighten the mood. “I’ll have you know; I make anything look good,” he retorts with a smirk. “But I suppose some fresh clothes wouldn’t hurt.”

You nod in agreement, grateful for the ease with which the two of you fall back into rhythm. “Exactly, and I’m sure I can find something more comfortable for you.” You reply, standing up and glancing around the small quarters of the ship.

As you start to pull crates out from the nearby storage racks, Crosshair watches you with a slight smile, admiring the familiar sight of you in motion. “You always know just how to take care of me,” he remarks, his voice low and warm, a tone saved just for you.

You shoot him a playful smile over your shoulder. “Someone has to.” You quip back, pulling out the crate you’d been looking for.

His kit crate. You still had his kit crate, with all your doodles on the outside – his name in Aurebesh, the squad’s symbol, a copy of his tattoo, and ever so slightly wonky hearts that he’d made a show of grumbling about but secretly loved.

Crosshair’s surprise is evident as he watches you retrieve a clean undersuit from the crate. He’d assumed its contents would be long gone - tossed aside, sold, or scrapped. The fact that you kept all his armour, along with his bucket, fills him with a strange mix of emotions. “Didn’t think you’d keep it,” Crosshair finally manages to say.

Before you can respond, footsteps interrupt the moment, drawing your attention towards the source. Hunter steps out from the cockpit – even with the door shut, he can still hear everything. His eyes meet Crosshair’s, and while he knows there’s a lot for them to talk about and work through, and he’s still not entirely sure he fully trusts his baby brother, he wants to offer him some reassurance. It’s the least he can do. “We were never going to get rid of it,” Hunter says, his voice firm yet gentle. “You’re still one of us.”

Crosshair finds himself at a loss for words. Emotions swirl within him, a tumultuous mix of gratitude and guilt. As Hunter’s words sink in, his gaze flickers back to you. Despite the doubts and fears that linger in his mind, one thing is certain: he’s home.

With a small smile, you offer the clean undersuit to your husband. “Here,” you say softly, your voice laced with affection. “Let’s get you changed.”

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[kitkat13001]

｡𖦹 ⏾ ˚｡⋆ 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚕 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚍?

>> tomura shigaraki x reader

>> brief mentions of injury and canon-typical violence (vague, nondescriptive), based on this post and lana del rey’s song ‘let the light in’, divider by @/anitalenia

for as long as tomura can think of, he never really feared death. against all common sense, it never really felt like a possibility. he’s the symbol of fear, isn’t he? it can’t be game over until his mission is complete.

it’s seemed that way for so long now. this game of life in his mind, with his expendable lives and missions to complete. 

and then you came waltzing into his life, worming your way into his heart with that stupid smile on your face and fierce conviction in your eyes. 

and suddenly he had something to lose. 

it was a distant worry in the back of his mind as he held you in his arms late at night. but when you were injured on a mission, lying unconscious on the street a few feet away from him, it was the only thought on his mind. 

it’s still pressing on him now, even though he can feel the warmth of your body against his, the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe. 

it seems like everything’s going too fast lately, like time’s slipping through his fingers. it’s only a matter of time before he’ll have to undergo the procedure and go through with the plan. he knows you’re worried, even though you haven’t told him as much. he can tell by the way you look at him when you think he’s not paying attention. like he’s going to vanish into thin air at any second. 

he doesn’t blame you. in all honesty, he looks at you the same way.

you’re the only good in life. he’s always known that, but seeing you hurt only cemented the notion in his brain. it hits him just now, like a ton of bricks. it’s you. 

he doesn’t know how long he’s got left. but he knows that he wants to spend it with you.

“marry me,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple as he speaks. the words leave him before he can stop himself. marriage is a concept completely foreign to someone like tomura. it doesn’t mean anything to him. it’s not something people like him get—or deserve for that matter. but he doesn’t care. the selfish devil that lives in his chest wants to hold you close, keep you with him until your time together is up for good. 

“sure,” you mumble in reply, voice thick with sleep as you toss around in his arms. your eyes are still closed. 

just like that. you’re handing him the rest of your life on a silver platter. without thinking. without opening your eyes. no marriage certificate (fuck the government), no ring (you never liked jewelry that much anyway), no vows, no party, nothing borrowed or blue. just you and him for the rest of your miserable lives. 

“dance with me,” he says, giving your hand a gentle tug. 

“aren’t you just full of demands today,” you reply wryly, peeking one eye open and flashing him a coy smile. 

he tugs on your hand again, face pinching into a teasing pout. “c’mon, if we’re getting married we need a first dance.”

“first and only,” you snort, gesturing to your broken leg, propped up on a pillow and wrapped in a cast. “on what leg?”

he huffs, pulling you both into a sitting position. “i’ll carry you. just dance with me, okay? first ‘n only, i promise.”

“fine, fine. whatever my husband wants.”

oh. that’s new, he thinks. this absurd feeling like a hundred butterflies in his stomach. it’s so unlike him. he’s many things, of course. evil legacy? yes. murderer? for sure. criminal? absolutely. but husband? that’s something he never thought he’d be, not in a million years. 

he’s careful as he hauls you up, balances your weight against him and props your casted foot on top of his. 

he’s slow and gentle as he sways to the faint music kurogiri left playing on a record somewhere in the back of the bar. he takes in the feeling of you in his arms, indulging in this moment for as long as he can. just you and him for the rest of your lovely, miserable lives — however short they may be. 

this is a little all-over-the-place, and probably incredibly self-indulgent, but what else is new? i couldn’t get the scene out of my head. also the dancing scene is twilight coded like at the end of the first movie when edward dances with bella at the prom w her broken ankle, please someone tell me you know the one 😩

[love7poetry]

✮˚. ᵎᵎ I LOVE YOU I'M SORRY 𖦹彡⋆｡˚

⤷ spidey!ellie williams headcanons

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ sophia's letter ! i took a hiatus without meaning to😞 unfortunately this is all i had time for, but it was lowk fun. tbh i think i’ll stick to one shots bc this is basically a few blurbs in one, like this is all over the place idk i don’t like it but i needa post. also, LIAAAM NOOO all payne no liam :((

.ᐟ. . . content warnings. r's race is not specified, characters death, spiders, fighting, unrequited love, r is bi/pan, ellie mistaken for a guy, ellie mistakes r for a straight girl, mental instability, fall from a high building twice, alternative universe, assault attempt, unserious writing style, grammar mistakes probably

{ inspired by @hiiikiko ‘s spider-man!ellie. pls check out their work, it’s so good ! }

do not support naughty dog or zionist neil druckmann

HELP HERE🇵🇸

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie personally i think she's already a peter parker varient, trust me. these goofballs haunted down the killer of their father-figure for christ sake! of course peter had that whole not killing moto but like... oh well!

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie in my mind gets her powers basically the same as in tasm, except she was only in the Anderson Tower (hehe see what i did there) bc one of her professors assigned a thesis on one of their exhibitions. of course she goes the same day you do, the girl she lowkey has a crush on.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie is a major LOSER omg. she admires you from afar bc she doesn't have the balls to start a conversation. she doesn't even think you're into girls to begin with so whats the point. leave it to ellie williams to fall for a straight girl smh

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie needs glasses to see or else everything is just a blur. she never takes them off, not even to sleep, yet somehow she doesn't see you until it's too late. now, ellie only ever sees you in class, so in her defense, poor girl wasn't expecting you to just appear in front of her and bump into you. otherwise, she would've turned the other way. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie has an apology problem, at least when she's nervous and boy do you make her nervous with your hair down and pretty face and glossy lips and cute outfits and gosh, she needs to get a grip. you tell her it's fine with a little laugh and ellie feels her face grow warm. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie like canon ellie, is an overthinker, so of course she's thinking abt that awkward interaction. well, it was for her, you didn't even think twice abt it. you're a chill person and it wasn't like ellie shoved you hard. ellie didn't have that kind of strenght... not yet, anyway.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie was just too distracted to notice a colorful spider jump on her back, only feeling a sting after stepping foot out of the mutlibillion dollar company tower. you can imagine her disturbed look when she got to her dorm, feeling around her neck until she plucked off a web string with a dead spider still attached on its end. yuck. to make matters worse, ellie started feeling sick. she passed out and didn't wake up until noon of the next day.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie was an orphan after her mother passed away when she was nine. she was left under the care of her mother's best friend, marlene, since that was the closest thing to family she had left. to ellie, marlene was family, so she'd called her aunt marlene. i think you can guess where this is going...

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie had promised marlene she would help with a charity event called the fireflies, but with ellie's new... condition, ellie just had too much on her mind. trying to balance college, having a lesbian crush on a straight girl, and finding out you can climb walls is a lot for a nineteen year old. and okay, maybe the first two are universial experiences, but definitely not the third. who is she supposed to talk to abt that?

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie was stressing and she never had the best temper when stressed. she had been focusing in creating organic web fluid bc in my au shes not gonna have anything shooting out of her, okay? i mean i still have some questions for tobey's spidey.... moving on! the charity simply slipped out of her mind and when ellie checked her phone after an entire day of testing her new abilities, swinging and even doing a handstand in just her index and middle fingers, she saw abt fifteen missed calls from aunt marlene. ellie decided to stop by to apologies and that’s when all hell broke lose.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie acts like her mother's death doesn't bother her after a decade, but when her name falls out of aunt marlene's lips during her lecture abt ellie's bad puntuality and lack of time managment, it was obvious it's still an open wound. 

'you are a lot like your mother, ellie,' marlene spoke. so far ellie was just nodding along to whatever marlene was saying but that sentence really annoyed the hell out of her. 'you truly are, and that's a good thing.' ellie's jaw tightened, but she didn't say anything. 'but she lived believing that if you can do good things for people, you have an obligation to do those things,' marlene pointed a finger at ellie's direction. 'that's what's at stake here. not choice; responsibility.' ellie scoffed. 'that's nice. yea, that’s all well and good. so where's she?' 'what?' marlene stops.  'where is my mom? don't you think it was her responsibility to tell me this herself?' the words coming out of her mouth taste like venom. there's tears threatening to spill, but ellie refuses to let them fall. marlene exhales, shaking her head. 'how dare you?' ellie raises her voice for the first time that night. "how dare i? how dare you!'

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie never got the chance to apologize for snapping at marlene. she knew deep down that marlene was just looking out for her, yet she was too in her head to see it then. ellie had stormed out right after and marlene went out looking for her. and it was the same thief that ellie did nothing to stop as she witness him rob a deli and even handed her a drink which she took without a second thought who killed marlene that night. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie will never forgive herself for that, for not stopping the thief and letting him kill the one person she had left. since then, ellie uses her powers to help others. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie also has a joel in this universe and he's finally being introduced, yippe! im mixing andrew's and tom's peters so i couldn't make him the uncle ben ik y'all thought he was gonna be. he's more like mcu's aunt may and tony. now bare with me pls

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie made herself a suit out of old clothes and a handmade mask. she'd been going around the neighborhood for a few weeks doing small things: returning stolen bikes, bringing cats down from trees, helping senior citizens cross the street, etc. there were no headlines on her yet, but she was growing popular on reddit. it wasn't until one day ellie felt this weird chill down her spine. everything happened so fast, ellie just remembers the after math, the adrenaline rush of catching a 3000 pounds car going at 40 miles with her bare hands to stop it from crashing into a school bus. that was the first time ellie saved a live, multiple at that, and she knew this is what she wanted- no, needed to do.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie had kept a low profile as her alter ego until then. never would she imagine that the video of her stopping a moving vehicle would get in the hands of the joel miller, ceo of miller industries. he's known of the expirements jerry had been doing with all sorts of animals and he didn't like it. joel never thought jerry had it in him to actually modify the human dna, but here he stood with a wall-crawling college student. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie didn't fangirl like mcu peter did when he met tony for the first time (i miss them). in fact she had the opposite reaction. she wasn't a fan of joel just like you and i aren't a fan of elon musk, but she respected him bc he has a flying suit. in this universe, joel was iron man and like tony, he told the entire world. when one of his enemies' killed sarah, he stopped wearing the suit. there's also no avengers bc that's too much writing for me 😇

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie agrees to work with joel only bc he promised to make her a super cool suit with lots of new tech. he said her homemade suit looked like an onesie and the only insult ellie could come up with was that his face looked like an onesie... oh how did joel wished the one to get bit would've been a grown adult smh

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie learns to be more in tune with her new abilities as time goes by. that chill down her spine, yea remember that? obviously we know they're spidey senses, but ellie doesn't know that, not until now. she kinda put two and two together, how she would get the feeling every time something bad was gonna happen. what pissed her off was that she had a you sense too. her stupid enhanced senses told her when you were near, but it only happened with you. like, what the fuck seriously

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie is still a loser even after the bite so of course she has yet to talk to you. you now acknowledge her after the incident at the anderson tower, but it's just smiles if you two make eye contact. god, ellie feels so pathetic abt this clearly unrequited crush. until one day she overhears - not that she did it on surpose, it just happens a lot with her enhanced hearing - you talking about her! well... her alter ego, but it's still her.... yea, abt that actually....you and everyone else seem to think she’s a he?????

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie is part of the tiny tittie committie as we know, so when she puts on joel's new and upgraded suit, she looks flat chested. she wasn't insecure of her size or anything, but ever since publicly teaming up with joel and gaining more publicity, people have mistaken her for a man, giving her the title of spider-man. it made her bust out laughing tbh

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie started seeing her masked self almost everywhere, especially in classes. that's when she heard you and your friend talk abt her, or well him. 

'i need him,' ellie almost choked on air hearing you speak. you were watching a video compilation on tiktok of spider-man saving people with chloe, a friend you made during the beginning of the semester.  'ew, he could be like your dad's age.' chloe laughed.  ellie frowned, sitting a few rows back. she is definitely not old enough to be a college student's dad. as a matter of fact, she can't even be a dad so. you smiled at chloe and shrugged. 'that wouldn't matter, because what matters is what's on the inside.' it was clear that you were joking, but as ellie looked up to where you were sitting she wondered how you would react if you found out it was a girl you were talking about. would it matter? would you still like her then?  or would you be disappointed?

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie tries to get over this crush by focusing on spider-boy, or wtv his name is. ever since becoming the city's hero, it's like everything has been dial up to eleven. crime fighting is far more intense but ellie likes the challenges. she's gotten a little cocky too, always joking and teasing the criminals she fights. her suit has a voice changer and she has a blast using it. 

'my grandma punches better than you,' she'd fake a yawn while grabbing the fist of one of the robbers when he tried to throw a punch. then she'd turn to the other who is already webbed up, 'actually, i never met my grandma.' then she'd punch the first guy just hard enough to kick him out cold. ‘but i bet her punches are still better.’

another instance is when she stopped a pretty big drug deal. about five men were going over what the plan was for the day, none noticed when ellie sneaked in until what seemed to be the leader grunted, 'you guys know what to do, now stay out of my ass.' ellie sighed loudly, 'it's hard to miss it.' 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie is just having the time of her life with this new identity that it becomes addicting, it's like her copying mechanism fr. joel starts noticing that ellie has become sloppy and tries to warn her, and although ellie promises she'll do better, she doesn't. she's saving lives, jesus christ. can’t a girl have fun?

✮��˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie learns the hard way that not everyone is a fan, especially not the police. and okay yea that humbled her alr. it also annoys her bc she's doing half their job so you'd think they'd be more appreciative but no they named her a criminal and put out a reward for whoever can discover the vigilante's identity. now she has to put in double the work bc everyone she fights tries to pin her down to take off her mask. ellie really dislikes your mother for that, the police captian of the boston police department - bc im messy hehehe. you're like in love with spider-man tho, and are quite vocal abt it too 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie loves to hear you fangirl over her. like okay you're unaware of a lot of minor details - like the fact that it's actually spider-woman - but that’s okay, it's fineeee! baby steps right? well ellie takes a huge big girl step one night when she saves you from a gross man trying to assault you.

her spidey senses were going off, and she let them take her to a dark alley. she heard the voice of a girl struggling to push someone off as she crawled on the wall. ellie froze when she realized it was you, her heart beat picking up. this is the first time someone she knows is in trouble, and it made her feel uneasy.  'buddy, is this anyway to treat a lady?' ellie jumped down, voice changer on, making both you and the sick drunk to look over at her. 'i don't think so,' she grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him to the ground, off of you.  'go.' she spoke, a little desperate to get you out of here. you stood in shock until you looked up at your savior and then booked it out of there. you run further into the alley until you made it to the other end, turning back behind you once you’re under a lamppost. you frowned when you couldn't see anyone.  where did they go? ellie held onto a web while she came down upside down. feeling movement, you turned and came face to face with masked eyes looking back at you. 'you saved me.' it was her job, of course she would save you, but no words came out. all ellie did was nod. there was a moment of silence as you two stared at each other, both out of breath. you from prior events, and ellie because she's never been this close to you.  you slowly brought your hands up to ellie's neck where the mask began. ellie quickly grabbed one of your wrists to stop you, but you reassured her. 'i won't take it off,' you whispered. ellie let go of your hand and felt you pull her mask up to her nose so only half of her face showed. you held onto the sides of her face as you lean in to kiss her lips.  ellie knew it was wrong, that in a way she was abusing her power. but when your lips connected with hers, all she could think about was how soft you felt. there was no way she would get over you now. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie swang you home that night and ever since she visits you almost everyday, im talking five days out of the week. girl has it BAD after that kiss #freemygirl frfr😞 the visits start innocent and it wasn't like ellie was expecting anything, but somehow you two end up making out and who is ellie to stop it ok? she is just a girl. i mean she does feel bad at the beginning bc you STILL believe she's a male - in your defense, ellie still keeps her mask half way on even in a make out session as well the voice changer. you understand that "he" just wants to keep "his" identity a secret, especially after your mom's manhunt, so you don't question it. and that makes ellie feel even worse.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie was planning on telling you, i swear, but then joel found out ellie was seeing a girl and he warn her not to tell you anything. she was abt to cuss him out until he told her she was alr putting you in danger by being associated with a crime fighting hero, you knowing who is under the mask would just make you a bigger target. not to mention your own mother still hates her guts, and is putting you in multiple uncomfortable situations. 

'can i at least tell her i'm a girl?' ellie questioned, already fed up by this conversation. she rubbed the bridge of her nose before looking up at joel, who she had grown to look up to as a mentor. although they still bicker. joel sighed, 'we talked about this, kiddo. if people keep thinking there's a spider-man, the changes of finding out your identity are low.'  'she won't tell anyone.' ellie trusts you. in the time that you've been together, you haven't told any of your friends that you're up in your room with none other than boston's masked vigilante. you kept this part of your life like an oath, and ellie appreciates you for it.  however, joel doesn't know you like she does. 'have you forgotten who her mother is? this could be a set up, and you're falling for it.' ellie shakes her head. 'she's not like that.'  'look, if it had been any other girl, i would've said go for it. but she's the daughter of the woman who wants to turn you in, dead or alive.' ellie looks away from joel, but he continues. 'we gotta be smart about this.' ellie sighs, nodding. 'okay.'

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie wants to go up to you in person as herself whenever she sees you in class, but knows she can't. like what do you mean her tongue was exploring your mouth just the night before but now you two are back to strangers????? it's driving her crazyyy and she feels so stupid and so guilty. it doesn't matter how many people she saves, ellie feels like she's going to hell for doing this to you. yet she can’t stop, not now, she’s addicted to your taste and when she sees you as her masked self later that day, she smacks her lips against yours for all the times she felt the argue to kiss you as ellie but couldn't. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie is still bitter towards joel for not letting her confess her secret to you but they've grown close and he is helping her find out why jerry anderson would create radioactive spiders. they don't find much until the top of the anderson tower bursts into flames. boston for sure thought they were going to be the next 9/11 but thanfully ellie got everyone out safetly. it was afterwork hours so not a lot of people were there, but when ellie went back to make sure she didn't miss anyone, a sinister laugh echoed. ellie's body went cold and her spidey senses were going crazy. if you couldn't tell jerry is the green goblin in this au but i still picture willem dafoe bc he's just TEW good as the green goblin so im recasting him as jerry 😁

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie definitely has a whole panic attack after being thrown against multiple walls by this not so kind dr anderson. she was just so overstimulated and physically hurt that it was all too much at once. this is ellie's first big villian and the old man can punch alr 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie has friends - dina and jessy ofc, but they’re unaware of her double life. ik i said she's a loser and i haven't mention them, but in my au her and abby were childhood friends until abby was sent to boarding school. they're literally peter and harry, you get me? so like norman, jerry was also neglectful and wouldn't pay attention to abby's friends, especially ones from so long ago, but ellie remembers him - also bc who wouldn't know the jerry anderson - and she knows that whatever she fought that night wasn't jerry, not entirely. he had this crazy look in his eyes and creepy smile, flying around in a hoverboard, accusing her of stealing his powers. yikes, awkward... 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie continues to fight him for some time, trying to figure out what the hell happened to him and how to help him. along with discoverying about anderson's sickness, ellie also finds out her mom used to work with jerry and she's the one who created the formula to cross-species genetics. yup, that really sent her spiraling - also im so uncreative and unoriginal im stealing from tasm bc ellie's mom also sabotaged the formula and added her dna into the equation, which is why ellie got her powers while jerry went nuts. okay he also gained some abilities but at what cost?

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie goes to your place after finding all of this shit out without telling you any of it, but just being near you helps her calm down. at this point, she knows so much abt you and you so little abt her, but you don't seem to mind. you tell her that you've been fighting a lot with your mom recently, and ellie listens. it's nice to talk abt other things to get her mind off of wtv is happening in her messed up life. you ask her if her parents know what she does, and for some reason, ellie opens up. she tells you the few memories she has of her mother, something she's never done with anyone apart from marlene but even then those moments were rare, more so now that's she gone too.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie is letting her guard down around you more and more, that she doesn't realize she's being followed. in her mind, your apartment is a safe place so why would she need to be on alert? well ima tell you why: her spidey senses woke her up in the middle of the night, but she dismisses them since she's been anxious for the past few days. it isn’t until later when she goes to class, the one with you in it, that her senses go off again, stonger this time after not seeing you enter through the doors at all. you've been late before, but never absent since attendance is mandatory in this class. she rushes to your apartment after class thinking maybe you're sick - which she knows isn't the case bc she saw you last night and you were perfectly fine. when she gets there, there's a green note sitting eerly on your bed waiting for her. 'WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, SPIDER-GIRL'

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie feels like she's going to throw up. jerry knows and he has you. ellie spends all day trying to locate you with joel's help. they were able to track jerry's/green goblin's last location to be in an abandoned clock tower on the outskirts of boston. without wasting anymore time, ellie rushes there. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie gets to the clock tower as the last bits of sunlight set in the horizon. she climbs up and peaks through one of the broken windows. there, she sees you tied up to a pull with your arms above you kinda like mary jane in the spider-man 2. ellie couldn't see jerry anywhere but her focus was to get your out of here so very quietly she went in. you tried to warn her but by the time she removed the ropes on your wrists, a little pumpkin bomb landed next to her, exploding and making both you fall. i won't write the entire scene but i'll tease something - fyi when i say clock tower, think tasm2 gwen's death scene

jerry - or the green goblin - held you in his arms as his board hovered over ellie. he grabbed your jaw harshly, forcing you to keep your teary eyes on ellie. her gaze remained low after taken off her mask. she was following the goblin's instructions, too terrified of something happening to you. yet, she couldn't bring herself to meet the look of betrayal in your eyes. 'no, that can't be,' goblin mocked, and ellie never wanted to punch someone as much as she does right now. 'where is spider-man? i could've sworn there was a man under the mask. i thought so, did you, pretty face?' his neck turned to look at you, question ringing with faux surprise.  ellie clenched her fists, finally looking up at the goblin. 'you got what you wanted, now let her go!' goblin broke into a crazy smile. 'i want you dead, spidey! i need your blood!' 'you have me. just, let her go and we can talk about this.' ellie took a few careful steps forward. the goblin chuckled before nodding, 'okay.' then he pushed you off his board.  'no!' ellie tried to jump after you, but the goblin took a hold of her and threw her against a wall across the platform she was standing. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie starts seeing joel as a father figure that night after he shows up in the suit. nobody had seen joel as iron man in years, but he couldn't let the girl he had grown to care for as a daughter fight alone. he got you to the ground safely before going back to help ellie fight the goblin. unfortunately he managed to escape but they were able to get a sample of his blood to start working on a cure.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie puts her mask back on before going up to you. she's holding onto her side, for sure with a few broken ribs that will heal in a week thanks to her fast self healing, and a limp on her walk. you're still shaken up from everything, from being kidnap and finding spidey's identity. you look at her with this unreadable expression and ellie starts trying to explain herself. joel flies down, interrupting the conversation to tell you it was his idea not to tell you anything, but before you can speak, sirens are heard outside the tower. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie watches as you run to your mom, hugging her as she asks you if you're hurt. ellie stands to the side doing that thing where her foot fidgets with the dirt and she starts playing with her hands, lowk feeling lonely. that’s when joel will come in with a hand on her shoulder, telling her she did good and that almost makes her break down. dw guys, i promise they won’t end up like mcu peter & tony or game ellie & joel🥹

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie doesn't see you in class after that, not for a week. she also doesn't go to your place to respect the fact that you most definitely need space. you're kinda mad at ellie, but you're feelings are still there. if only she had been honest from the beginning. obviously you recognized her from class, so after a week you go up to her. annndddd this is where im ending this bc i have an exam to study for but yea yea you end up forgiving her and all that lovey-dovey stuff, hope y’all liked this chaotic headcanon

˚ ༘ 🦕𖦹⋆｡˚

[meltinghun]

Complicated ; Jean-Pierre Magnan.

summary; since the start of the school year, Jean-Pierre and reader have competed with each other for the first place on everything, that is until reader starts to neglect herself.

warnings: fem!reader, ANGST!!!, fluff, swearing, academic enemies-to-lovers, feelings of failure, reader has a shitty family AND doesn't take care of her health (dead dove do not eat? idk?), canon typical misogyny, they're so mean but they like each other (i promise!!).

w/c: 2.8k

author note: i want to thank everyone who encouraged me to keep writting, your comments made me blush and giggle so hard, omg!!!! <3

I got stuck in this o.s for more than a month because I really liked the idea but I wasn't convinced on how it was turning out, but anyways, I had to upload something after being inactive for so long lmao.

The latin teacher handed each student their graded exams, occasionally throwing back handed comments when he saw necessary, visibly enjoying the defeated faces of the students that didn't receive a satisfactory grade.

With an audible sigh, he extended the paper towards Y/N, shaking his head to emphatise his dissaprovement.

"You were the only reason as to why I was starting to believe that it was a good idea to integrate girls to the school." He raised his eyebrows. "But I'm starting to regret it."

The loud comment reverberated on the walls and hurt her ears, making her shrink in her seat with embarrassment when the big red 7/20 was placed in front of her. When the professor continued walking around, she heard a subtle chuckle coming from the left, turning her head in that direction. Founding a pair of big green eyes already staring at her in amusement.

"And I'm starting to believe that, after all, you are not a threat at all." A small smirk painted his face before continuing. "Maybe you fooled all of us into believing that you were actually smart, but I guess you aren't at all."

Her throat closed at the same time that she felt the need to throw up, she didn't knew what was wrong with her, she stayed up late studying for the tests, wrote her own resumes and even recited them out loud to try and memorize it, but no matter what she tried, the formulas didn't seem to stick to her brain, the numbers and symbols seemed like the exact same thing and confused them with each other and even the words of her history homework seemed to be written on a foreign language. She felt like a failure ever since her parents started to demand even better grades than she already had, spending her days and nights studying and having little to almost no sleep at all, investing all her time into trying to regain her star student position.

She was exhausted, sometimes even getting to the point of hallucinating things from the lack of rest, but convincing herself that she didn't deserve it until her parents were more than proud of her. And that seemed so far away.

Blinking away the tears, she tried to keep up with her facade, "Maybe you should start to mind your own business, Magnan." She managed to spat through gritted teeth.

"And that's where you're wrong, again." She groaned in annoyance. "See, when something makes you feel miserable, it is completly of my business because it makes me feel amazing."

She took a sharp inhale, and before she could say something, the sound of the bell indicating the start of reccess pierced the air. Rapidly, she gathered her belongings and almost sprinted out of the classroom, earning a severe reprimend from the teacher that she didn't care enough to hear.

"Miss L/N!" He made an offended sound. "Women, they are so sensitive... That's why they don't belong here."

She made a straight path towards the teachers restrooms, and only after locking the door did she allowed herself to let out a choked sob. The tears falling down and making a mess everywere, a hand coming up her face to try to muffle her desperate cries.

She really didn't know what was wrong with her.

Maybe she was the problem.

Everything came down like a ton of bricks falling on her, from the pressure of trying to be a role model for her family, to the hurtful words of Jean-Pierre that striked a nerve. Usually it wouldn't bother her that much and instead she would have a comeback ready to throw at him, but lately that wasn't the case, the highlights of her day used to be the moments were they started bickering at each other, sharing defying looks and victorius smirks in the way. She awaited those moments so eagerly.

But now she was lacking the strength to think on a smart jab to get right back at him, and even when she did manage to come up with something, it didn't bring her any satisfaction at all like it used to. Instead, she just felt drained.

Once again, the bell rang indicating to everyone that the classes resumed once again, but rather of getting out of her little hiding spot, she just stayed there, not feeling ready to face yet another deception.

Nor face again those mesmerizing green eyes.

A sharp headache made her wince slighty, she's been having them since a few days ago, sometimes were more powerful than others and today it seemed like one of the days were she felt like digging out her brain out of her head. She splashed some water on her face and looked at the mirror, looking away almost immediately when she took note of how sick she looked.

Opening the door, she carefully made her way to the infirmary, thinking to herself that some minutes with the school's nurse could excuse her absence in the class. A sudden feeling of dizziness caused by the sudden movement almost made her trip over, but before it happened, a strong hand took hold of her arm, keeping her from falling.

"What is wrong with you? Where the hell were you?" Jean-Pierre gave her a severe look that harbored his concern.

"I already told you to mind your own business." With all the strength she could muster, she pushed herself free out of his hold, the anger bubbling on her veins. "I don't owe you nothing, so get out of my sight and leave me the fuck alone. You would do me a great fucking favor."

Her harsh words left him completly dumbfounded, never before had she talked to him like that, even on the days when he annoyed her out of her mind. He saw how she moved towards the stairs, holding tightly onto the rails; moving closer to her hunched form, he felt the sudden and desperate need to ask her what was the problem, if he could help her in any way.

"I'm here against my will, Miss Couret sent me to look out for you." Was the only thing that came out of his mouth. "She was worried because she didn't saw you at recess, even more when you weren't at the classroom."

The lie slipped off naturally from him. Miss Couret didn't sent him to look out for her, he scaped class by coming up with some excuse about needing to ask something important about his latin competence, the truth was that he was the one who worried about her absence. But she didn't need to know that tiny detail.

Jean-Pierre would never admit it out loud, but he saw the drastic change on his rival's attitude, and it got him concerned. He would secretly listen to conversations of her friends that involved Y/N herself as a main topic, that's how he got to know how strict her parents were with her and it made his stomach churn with worry.

The weird thing was, he really didn't know why he cared so much, neither why he couldn't stop thinking about her. She was the first thing on his mind when he waked up, thinking about new ways to annoy her and have her total attention on him, he thought about her on the afternoon while doing homework, wondering if she managed to do the excersices better that him, and she was also his last thought before dozing up to sleep, anxiously waiting for the morning to come to do that rutine all over again.

He really didn't knew why.

A grip on his sleeve made him stop on his tracks and turn his torso towards her, his free hand instinctively coming up to rest it on her forearm.

"I think I will pass up." She mumbled with a lost look on her eyes. "If you let me fall, I will kill you, Magnan."

And not even a second later, everything turned black to her.

- - - - - - - - - -

The fist thing she noticed was the slight smell of pine blending up with the strong one coming out of the medicines, a small sigh leaving her lips before opening her eyes, stumbling almost immediately with the image of Jean-Pierre sitting beside the bed she was lying, and from what she could see, he was engrossed with a latin book.

Her heart raced and a hundred thoughts per second invaded her head. He could've left her with the nurse to come back to class, why was her still there? Was he waiting for her to wake up? But also, what if he was only there to be the first one to laugh at her? The questions overwhelmed her inmensely, so she decided to ask first the important ones.

"How long have I've been unconsious?" The sudden sound of her voice making him shot his head up, she could swore he almost looked relieved.

"I, uhm... Here, I bet you are thirsty." He cleared his voice before handing her a cup of water. "It wasn't for that long, just a couple hours. The school's over in less than forty minutes, so we can go home anytime."

She emitted a groan. "No wonder why I feel like I slept for years, I missed the whole day!" Leaving the cup on the bedside table, she glanced quickly around the nursery. "Where's Mrs. Bellanger?"

"Some kid was playing too hard and broke his arm in the process, she told me to keep an eye on you while she took him to the hospital." He paused, momentarily doubting if he should keep going. "She also told me that you passed out due to a huge lack of sleep and a possible unbalanced diet. Tell me, did you thought that it was smart? To harm yourself in order to have the acceptance of some idiots who can't see your real value? It's not worth it if you end up like this."

As if it were an habit, her eyes got teary, losing the count on how many times she cried on the day. It bothered her so much, even more that it was happening in his presence. For a moment, he almost sounded so consternated... But either way, she wouldn't tolerate being scolded like a kid.

"Excuse you?" She exclaimed, an evident frown on her face.

"Don't try to play dumb. You know what I mean."

"Oh, so you want to know why? I'm the first granddaughter, the first niece, the first child, the older sister... It's obvious that I have to make some sacrifices, even if it's at my own expense. After all, everyone expects so much more from me." The words came out slower than before and full of venom. "Yes, it may not be really healthy, but I push myself because it's the only way to make them proud of me, and it's something that I believed you would understand, Magnan."

"And you are not wrong, I do understand you." He took a few seconds before saying his next words. "That's why I don't want you to pressure yourself to be someone that you aren't, I know what it's like to be pressured by your parents -..."

"No, you don't. You don't know how my parents are!" She interrupted him. "You don't know how it is to be belittled when you don't achieve something worthy of their interest, you don't know how its like to feel proud of yourself because you thought that you finally did something right just to find out that you failed again, or to spend every second of the day studying, priving yourself of having a social life just to feel miserable at the end of the day. And you definitely don't know how it's like to live your whole life without knowing if your family even likes you."

She didn't know when she started to cry, much less in what moment Jean-Pierre got close enough to wrap her in a tight embrace. But suddenly, she felt like the constant emptiness in her chest was being filled with something much greater than a temporary stability brought by false acceptance, it was an unknown warm and fuzzy feeling that made her anguish vanish away. It felt like that was all she needed throughout her life.

They pulled apart slowly, his hands immediately went to her face to wipe away any traces left of tears on her cheeks, and they stood there, looking at each others eyes, feeling as if they were frozen in time. 

"I may not understand entirely, but I can learn how to." He murmured. "I really want to understand you."

"But why would you bother?" She asked, confused and desperate to know. "Since the moment we met, the only thing we do is argue, we hate each other!... I tried to hurt you so many times and you have done the same to me, so please, make me understand, why would you want to help me? Why do you care?"

"Because I care about you, deeply." The words came out breathless, his eyes trying to desperately find her gaze. "I really don't know how to describe what I feel, but I do know that every time I see you, my heart goes crazy, and sometimes I wonder if it will come the day where it's going to jump out of my chest to go chasing after you. I know that every time you laugh with another person, I wish with all my soul to, someday, be worthy enough to be the cause of your smile. But I do know that if I hated you, really did, I would be happy for your downfall, but I'm not, because I can't force me to act as if I don't care about you, not anymore."

Jean-Pierre wasn't a man or words. All his life he struggled to express his feelings, but this time, it was different.

"One of the things I admire you for is the way that you don't never give up, it doesn't matter how many times I get a slighty better mark, you study harder until beating me up the next time we have an exam. You are resilient, and so damn smart that it makes me feel jealous sometimes, because I wish I could have a little bit of the determination that you possess, and I can't comprehend why you focus on your non existing flaws and ignore all your strenghts."

"I never thought..." She began with a whisper, attempting to make a joke in order to not break down completely. "I never thought that someone could ever think that highly of me, not even you."

"How could I not? You are the most incredible person I ever met, Y/N."

A violent sob reverberated on the nursery walls, and before she could even feel shame for shattering that easily due to the sweetest words she ever heard, she found herself on Jean-Pierre's hold once again.

It felt like they spend a lifetime in that embrace, hearing nothing more than the rapid beats of their hearts and sharing everything they didn't had the courage to say out loud, not yet. Squeezing the hug one last time before breaking away, she dried her face with the sleeves of her blouse, his adoring eyes never leaving her.

"Now, what? What's next from this point?" Fearfully, she asked.

"Now... I will walk you home." Seeing her confused frown, he added rapidly. "If you want to be the number one, you have to be better than me, and the first step to achieve that is to sleep well and eat some real food. You have to take care of yourself, then we will work on the rest."

"We? You will help me beating you up?"

"I want to help you to become a better version of yourself. If that costs me becoming the second of the class, then so be it."

He extended his arm in her direction, encouraging her to hold it. Slowly, she got up from the bed and hooked their arms together.

"I must admit that my home is far away and I came walking today, so you can still back down if you want."  

"Only a fool could reject such offering."

She exhaled a shaky breath, never expecting that answer. As they made their way towards the door, a sudden question hitted her.

"How did you know about my problem with my family?"

"I accidentally overheard a conversation, I didn't realise it was about you until they named you." An overwhelming warmth creeping up his face.

"Of course, 'accidentally'."

"Shut up." His reddening cheeks and the obvious attempt of a lie didn't went unnoticed, earning a light giggle from the girl.

That fluttery sensation came back to her. She never thought that it would be possible to feel this smitten over someone, even if she still struggled to admit it. While the boy couldn't stop thinking of how fortunate he felt in those moments, with the person he couldn't stop dreaming about holding onto him and walking her home for the first time, and hopefully not last. The warm breeze of the spring surrounding them as they made their way out of the school between laughs and jokes, secretly wishing to have more moments like this one in the future.

[wishful-thinking64]

Hazbin Hotel & Helluva Boss Rewrite Ideas #01

I truly believe that both shows have a lot of untapped potential that we'll unfortunately never get to see thanks to Viv refusing to take criticism and the fact that her writers are all yes men. However, that doesn't mean I can't give out rewrite ideas like they're candy to those who wish to tap into either show's said potential. With that being said, here are some rewrite ideas that you could use for Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss! ______ #01.) Have Mrs. Mayberry become one of the residents of the Hazbin Hotel. I promise you, this one writes itself. #02.) Have Glitz & Glam be Fizz's rival co-workers to parallel his time in the circus when he worked with the Buckzo twins who acted more like a family to him. #03.) Write some new workers for the Hazbin Hotel since they're still severely understaffed. You could make these new employees a Hellborn, a Sinner, an Overlord, or Goetia royalty if you wanted too. The possibilities for this one are endless! #04.) Let Heaven contrast with Hell based on how they operate. For example, in my rewrite for the Hellaverse, Heaven doesn't use currency at all. It quite literally doesn't exist up there. Instead, they use the Bartering System as they view it to be the most fair exchange of goods and services. #05.) Have there be a character who doesn't belong in Hell but got sent there anyway for whatever reason. I'd recommend using Valoris (my take on renaming Vaggie) if you don't mind keeping her as a fallen angel or using her original Sinner backstory however I feel like Amélie (I renamed Emily solely because her name is so common. It's not bad but you can tell that there was barely any thought put into it either.) could work just as well since she'd be a fallen Seraph. #06.) Make Lucifer and Stolas evil as they were originally intended to be before Viv scrapped the idea in favor of something worse. Stolitz is a toxic ship no matter how much damage control and retconning Helluva Boss tries to do and when initially asked about how Lucifer would act later in the series on an old livestream, Viv originally wanted to have his character be on par with that of Willy Wonka so do with that information what you will. #07.) Allow for Charlie's, "Anyone can be redeemed," mentality to constantly be challenged by those around her. Don't be afraid to have her be in the wrong because we all know that not everyone can be redeemed. Some people (Valentino) truly aren't deserving of it and others won't be accepting to change. You can lead a horse to water all you want but the horse has to decide to drink it. #08.) Create a proper foil ship for Fallen Star (I hate using the ship name Chaggie) cause if even Stolitz can have one in the form of Fizzmodeus then Fallen Star should have one too. Most people opt to use Emilute but I'm a damn GuitarSpear shipper so I opted for a crossover ship that has Emily and another character from Helluva Boss instead. Listen, if a rare pair and joke ship like CherriSnake can become canon over a ship like Sir Pentious x Rosie that actually makes sense when you consider they're from similar time periods, then a crossover ship being in my AU rewrite is the least of my problems.

For context, here's a screenshot for one of the HH mockup episodes before Viv and her team decided to scrap it. Like the majority of the HH mockup episodes. ______ Well, that's all I've got for now so happy writing and good luck!

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Reacting To Your Symbiote

Requested: HEYY ive been eating UPP your head-canons for rhe boys, i would like to request one on how they would react w/ a reader that has a symbiote (venom basically) except it’s not like butcher’s case, but spouted from comp v when they were injected at a young age :D - anon

A/N: This idea is cool my love!!!! I hope you like it!! I did base it off clips from Venom/the Wikipedia just bc it's been ages since I saw the movie lol so apologies if anything is wrong!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜

Requests are open! 🔮

Butcher thinks your symbiote is both gross and a great thing to have on the team. You didn't tell anyone about them, fearing you'd hear the same responses you'd always heard growing up. He interrogates you about your powers. You promise you would never hurt anyone, that it's pretty bad in terms of looks, but that you have everything under control. That's not good enough for him. He wants you to show him. After more yelling and assumptions, you snap. It's only your arms that you allow to be taken over, but it's enough to leave him feeling sick. Afterwards you're pretty quiet, avoiding him as well as you can. The look on his face was exactly what you were trying to avoid. Eventually he grows a little more used to them and even apologized, though it's a poor one at best. When he really sees you in action he's left speechless. The team needs you, both of you. You're strong, and powerful, and scary in the best way possible.

Hughie was pretty freaked out the first time you showed him. You begged him to run, to save himself, but mostly you wanted him gone so he wouldn't have to see. When he didn't, you had no other choice. Your symbiote took over, giving you just enough control to apologize before, quite literally, annihilating your attackers. He couldn't believe what he was witnessing. He knew you were a Supe, you were pretty upfront about that, but you'd never gone into detail about what you could actually do. He understood why. Your symbiote was the thing of nightmares. It was malleable, and throbbing, and it could be as large as it wanted. It swallowed you whole, making itself a set of knife-sharp teeth. It smiled at him, telling him he was safe, which would have been endearing had it not been you standing in its place moments before. He has a lot of questions, all of them you're more than willing to answer. He deserves to know, especially coming face to face with them. You're an open book, the both of you are.

Annie was pissed. You never told her you were a Supe in the first place. You couldn't tell her. She was everything good about Supes and you feared you were everything bad. You were afraid of her judgement. You had enough of that from M.M. You made sure no one told her, not until you thought she was ready. And then she watched you save Hughie. She felt like an idiot, watching them take over your body, in awe and horror. She felt lied to. Technically, you think but dare not say, it wasn't lying because she never asked you, she just assumed you were human. You apologize anyways, knowing it wasn't right. You show her your symbiote bit by bit, introducing them slowly, telling her as much as you think she can handle at a time. You've been told, if you wanted, you'd be a perfect villain, you'd fit right in with Homelander. You didn't want her to come to the same conclusion. Annie could come to rash decisions at times. You figured you and your symbiote were no exceptions.

M.M isn't the biggest fan. It's nothing personal. Being a Supe is enough not to make him like you. On top of that you've got this thing inside of you that has a mind of its own. It could be capable of anything and you'd have very little control over it. You know this. You've been dealing with it since you were a kid. You and your symbiote grew up together. You've reached a level of mutual understanding and maturity that they aren't just going to start running around and rob banks or hurt people. That's not who either of you are. Still, he can't shake the feeling, the worry, that they could turn on your team at any moment. Your symbiote knows M.M. doesn't like them and, much like a dog, wants to give him extra attention because of it. You've had long talks about what not to do around him, keeping them in check so that you can gain just an inch more of trust. Anything helps to show him that you're not a monster.

Frenchie is probably the most comfortable around your symbiote out of all The Boys. He has a lot of questions for the both of you, especially about your childhood. For many years you thought you were a monster. Your family was expecting powers that could save people, that would get you into The Seven. Instead there was this thing that took over your body, this creature that could control their child. They thought it was gross, unsightly, and forbid you from letting them out. Of course you didn't listen. When you fell off your bike and skinned your knee, they fixed it. When you couldn't reach something, they helped you. They weren't all bad, they just weren't willing to learn that. Still, there was a lot of shame and even now, you struggle to open up about them. There's absolutely no judgement from Frenchie. He's fascinated. Awestruck. He tells you constantly how cool and powerful he thinks you both are. He doesn't want you to think of yourself as some kind of monster or abomination. Ever.

Kimiko watched your symbiote take over the first time you were really hurt. Homelander pushed you off the roof and you fell, breaking your bones, gasping for air, but magically alive. If she could have, she would have screamed. Your symbiote, as gently as it could, wrapped itself around your body, resetting your bones, putting your insides back together. It was excruciating. It only takes a few minutes before you're completely healed. She watches in awe, eyes wide, unsure of what the hell just happened, but eternally grateful you were okay. She stands you up, unsure of what to say. That night, you tell her everything. She's the first to really appreciate them. They're not the most attractive and have a wicked attitude, but they care about you. They saved you. Anyone who loves you that much is good in her books. She gives them names, asking how Kevin is or if Susan might be able to help her with something. It always makes you smile, knowing she isn't afraid of them or thinks of you any differently.

Bonus! Homelander thinks your symbiote is disgusting and weird. He refused to have you be a part of The Seven, but without any other candidates, he eventually gave in. You do a lot of weird things that truly make him uncomfortable. Arguing with your symbiote is a big one. Only you can hear them when they're inside, so it just looks like you're talking to yourself all the time. He hates when you're "saving" someone and they come out, but only partially, like a hand or leg. Something about that, you and them together, makes him queasy. When it's one or the other, that's a little better. When he gets uncomfortable he gets angry, which is bad news for you. Like The Deep, you've become a scapegoat for Homelander. If anything goes wrong, it's your fault. Your symbiote doesn't like him and, as hard as you try to keep them in check, they make it known.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

well @flagonking I'll blame you for this one

Emily: "Sir Pentious! Is that a laser canon!?"

Sir Pentious: "What? What, no. Of courssssse n- OH THISSSS canon! Ah, I, ah- I wass jussst dissssmantling it, oh mighty sssseraphim!"

Emily: "Dismantling- does it still work?"

Sir Pentious: "P-perhapssss, but ah...." (falls face down) "Pleassse! Do not ssssssend me back or rip the wingsss FROM my back!!!! I prosssstrate mysssself before you! I am a worm at the hem of your sssscelesstial sssskirtsss! I beg of you have merssscy! I-"

Emily: "I need you to do a terrorism for me."

Sir Pentious: "...I... beg your pardon?"

Emily: "Vaggie collapsed at last week's meeting and hasn't been fully conscious since-"

Sir Pentious: "WHAT! Vagatha!?"

Emily: "-Charlie's tried everything in hell she can think of but nothing's helped and she's finally broke her promise not to tell anyone in heaven and I really really wish she would have done that SOONER because Lute stormed out of the meeting just a few minutes before Vaggie went down and since then I haven't seen Lute anywhere and Sir Pentious, I NEED you to draw her out in a HURRY, Lute I mean, so I have a chance of finding what I think she's been hiding when I slip into her place while she's off confronting you-"

Sir Pentious: "What."

Emily: "I'm sorry, but we can't go to Sera for help. I don't trust her not to give Lute a heads up and enough time to get rid of any evidence before she's searched and Vaggie won't be safe again until we catch Lute red handed and make sure to get it BACK from her- That's the main point, everything else comes later-"

Sir Pentious: "Theesse are too many wordsss! I don't underssstand! Me dissstract her?! Vagatha very expressly told me NOT to draw the pathetic bi-, the ah, lieutenant'sss ire! It wassss a direct order!"

Emily: "I know and it's dangerous and she'll be furious with us both afterwards but Lute can't get away with this!"

Sir Pentious: "Thisss what? What issss she-"

Emily: "I think she has Vaggie's halo, from when Adam took it."

Sir Pentious: "Her halo..?"

Emily: "I think Lute's been hurting her with it."

Sir Pentious: "Oh..."

Sir Pentious: "...Undersssstood! Where in heaven ssshould the terrorisssm take plassce?"

Emily: "As far from the Exorcist barracks as you can manage- maybe, also as far from Adam's suits as you can make it too? I don't know where else she'd feel safe enough to do something like this from, so we'll start there."

Sir Pentious: "Ah... The gatessss ssssshould be a good disstance from both, yesss? And an attack on them would be MOSST alarming."

Emily: "Perfect, Pentious! That's perfect."

Sir Pentious: "Ma'am! When ssshall we commenssce the opperashhion?"

Emily: "Now. Right now- I have no idea what this is actually doing to Vaggie, if it IS what I think it is, but it can't be good and it needs to stop."

Sir Pentious: "Then I sssshall attack at onsssce!"

Emily: "Wait! Sir Pentious, I won't let Lute hurt you either- Take this with you."

Sir Pentious: "Y- YOUR halo-? NO! I cannot!"

Emily: "I'm authorizing you to. It's MY blessing to give. You'll be under my protection with this- As long as you hold it, anyone who tries attacking you will be attacking me too."

Sir Pentious: "But what if, sssshe attacks anyway?? I, I don't know if I could ssssurvive, never mind sssafeguard your-"

Emily: "If she comes for you, use my halo to shield yourself."

Sir Pentious: "Ah! Ah, but-"

Emily: "No buts. Promise me?"

Sir Pentious: "But you are ssssso much powerfuller and more important than I am! You are helping with the hotel! We ssshouldn't risssk-"

Emily: "Your friends lost you once, Pentious. You died for them."

Sir Pentious: "W-well. I would have preferred not to..."

Emily: "But you did and we're not putting them through that again. If Vaggie can survive Lute's sword cutting her eye out of her skull, I'm sure I'll manage a dent in my halo or two."

Sir Pentious: "... very well, ma'am."

Emily: "Please, it's just Emily."

Sir Pentious: "Ah, err, missss Emily? If you are sssscertain..."

Emily: "Good, then take it and good luck!"

Sir Pentious: "AH! You asss well!!!"

Emily: "Try to keep Lute arguing if she doesn't go straight to trying to kill you!"

Sir Pentious: "I will! I sssswear I will give you asss much time for your sssssearch ass I can!"

Sir Pentious: "...."

Sir Pentous: "Oh dear."

Sir Pentious: (hastily gather up laser canon) "Oh dear oh dear- oh thisss would be ssso much fasssster with my eggssss!" (juggling emily's halo) "Ah!"

Sir Pentious: (slithering quickly) "All thisss time. The crusty exorcist leader.. doing things to Vaggatha's halo..?"

Sir Pentious: (HISSES)

Sir Pentious: "I DO hope Charlotte MURDERSSS that bitch...."

Random Angel: "What?"

Sir Pentious: "AHHH!!!! I- I sssaid- OH DEAR! I SSSSSEEM TO HAVE AN ITCH! I ssshall jusst go and ssscrape myssself very inossscently againsst the gatesss of heaven, la la la, do not be alarmed! ....YET!"

-

Vaggie: "...?"

Charlie: "Oh-!"

Vaggie: "...charlie...?"

Charlie: "Vaggie."

Vaggie: "Why'm I... lying down."

Charlie: "Shhh it's okay, you're just resting a bit-"

Vaggie: "Weren't we, doing something... You're... crying..?"

Charlie: "No I'm-" (wipes face) "D-do you know where you are right now?"

Vaggie: "Our room..."

Charlie: "Right, that's right. That's good. You know me and our room and it's, okay. You're safe here and it's okay. Just rest."

Vaggie: "But the... meeting..?"

Charlie: "That was days ag- never mind. It's not important. Can I prop your head up for a second? Can you try a sip of water? You, you should drink a little while you're still awake-"

Vaggie: "I was... sleeping? Am I going to. Fall back asleep... again?"

Charlie: "I don't-" (voice breaks) "-I, I don't know. Maybe. You weren't really talking when you woke up before. Here. Drink?"

Vaggie: "Not thirsty. Not tired. What. Happened?"

Charlie: "You've been resting-"

Vaggie: "Charlie you've been crying. You still are. What's wrong?"

Charlie: "Oh m-maybe nothing, now you're sounding like yourself again... How's the headache?"

Vaggie: "It's..."

Vaggie: "...Gone?"

Charlie: "Gone? You're sure? Please don't hide it this time-"

Vaggie: "I'm not, sweetie. I feel okay."

Charlie: "And not even tired, mm?"

Vaggie: "Alright fine. A little tired. Probably not as tired as you though."

Charlie: "I'M not the one who's been-"

Vaggie: "When did you last get any sleep?"

Charlie: "... Husk and Angel offered to sit in while I tried napping, yesterday. But it felt wrong. You were just, laying there next to me so still, you only moved when another fit started."

Vaggie: "I've been having fits?"

Charlie: "A few. Four, I think? But only since yesterday." (shaky sigh) "Everyone's been trying to help, so don't get mad at them about me losing some sleep. I kept jolting awake scared I would miss- something. Not be there when you... the next time you woke up."

Vaggie: "...well I'm awake now."

Charlie: "You shouldn't strain yourself, okay? Just. Try to rest. Do not try getting up."

Vaggie: "I won't. But I could use a hug."

Charlie: "Me too..." (snuggles gf)

Vaggie: "..."

Charlie: "...Vaggie?"

Vaggie: "Hm? Yeah?"

Charlie: "J-just checking."

Vaggie: "I swear I feel okay now. Whatever all, that, was, I think it's over."

Charlie: "Okay. Heh."

Vaggie: "What?"

Charlie: "Maybe I worried Emily over nothing after all."

Vaggie: "You didn't tell her-"

Charlie: "It's been a week, Vaggie. I'm sorry, I know I promised- but I didn't know what to do."

Vaggie: "A week? Oh hun... then that's my fault for freaking you out." (hugs) "Don't be sorry. The only angel you told was Emily, right?"

Charlie: "Yes. Just her..."

Vaggie: "That's fine. She's not. The worst."

Charlie: "Someday you'll admit that you like her~ You think she's niiiice and want to hold haaands~"

Vaggie: (snorts) "Definitely fucking not. You're loopy from lack of sleep, babe, and that's the only reason you're saying that. But I trust her."

Charlie: "You do?"

Vaggie: "She stood up to heaven with you. That's good enough for me."

Charlie: "I want you to be the one standing with me, Vaggie."

Vaggie: "Does laying down with you count too?"

Charlie: "For now I'll take it."

Vaggie: "Very generous of you sweetie. Can you take a nap for me too?"

Charlie: "Maybe. You'll... get better soon now, right?"

Vaggie: "I will. "

Charlie: "... and if I drift off, just for a moment, you'll be awake when I wake up?"

Vaggie: "I promise."

-

Lute: "I plead innocence."

Emily: "Innocence? Lute, you admitted to it! You basically bragged about doing it!"

Lute: "There's no shame in doling out righteous punishment."

Emily: "How can you call this righteous!? She couldn't even defend herself! She didn't even know what was happening to her! And you- describing every scratch and dent on this halo, talking about how you dragged you sword's edge across it at first until it drew sparks, and then how you just started hacking at it- You had better PRAY when Charlie hears about this-"

Sera: "Hell will not be informed of the matter."

Emily: "Sera- they are the wronged party here! Of course we have to tell th-"

Sera: "No. We will not."

Lute: "Thank you ma'am."

Sera: "You will hold your tongue, exorcist. Did you strike a Seraphim?"

Lute: "... that, filth, the snake hid behind her halo-"

Emily: "As I told him to."

Sera: "So you saw the halo before you struck. And still did so."

Lute: "He was destroying the gates of heaven!"

Emily: "Also on my orders."

Lute: "See!? She's as bad as those SCUM down there are- just as much of a traitor as-"

Emily: "Thank you. I would rather be like her than-"

Sera: "Stop. Lute, you are banished from the inner spheres for the time being. I will summon you once a tribunal is convened to consider your actions."

Lute: "Ma'am."

Sera: "Emily... Go lie down for the rest of the day. I'll check in with you later."

Emily: "..."

Emily: "I knew you would do this."

Sera: (sigh) "Do what?"

Emily: "Part of me hoped you wouldn't, but I knew I couldn't risk the chance you wouldn't care... even when it was one of ours being hurt."

Lute: "THAT FLITH IS NOT ONE OF US!"

Emily: "Good. Maybe she's safer down there."

Lute: "Not if I having anything to say about it!"

Emily: "I can see that. I'm starting to think even angels aren't safe up in heaven."

Sera: "Go lie down, Emily, please."

Emily: "Fine. I have a headache anyway. Dented halo and all that."

Lute: "Why are you taking the-"

Emily: "Vaggie's halo?"

Lute: "It belongs to- it belonged to Adam! And as the new leader of the exorcists, I-"

Emily: "You'll touch it again over my dead body."

Sera: "Enough with the dramatics. Now I am getting a headache."

Emily: "Let's talk politics then. As the sole volunteer delegate to hell, I am the only one here who can return Vaggie's stolen halo to her, aren't I? Aren't I, Sera."

Sera: "... you may as well."

Lute: "Seraphim please- you can't show mercy to Adma's killers-"

Sera: "I am left cleaning up the mess Adam and you have caused yet again, Lute, and I am becoming tired of doing so. Go."

Lute: (glares) (leaves)

Sera: "...and Emily... I won't be able shield you from your own actions forever. I am only one of heaven's seraphim- Please, do not do anything to condemn yourself in the eyes of our fellows. I cannot out rule them all. And some of them have been listening to Lute..."

Emily: "Including you."

Sera: "That is my duty."

Emily: "Well, maybe protecting people from angels like you is mine."

Sera: "Emily-"

Emily: (flies off) (still carefully cradling vaggie's halo)

[py-dreamer]

@dynamicsimp hope ya like it!

EYESHOT AU DITY

I literally did this in one day- help.

So yeah, I tried out the gosh-dang challenge and honestly?

Quite happy with how it came out! It was very interesting and actually very fun working on a piece with a monochrome pink palette!

Gosh, I haven't gotten to use my REAL lineless style (I use it for stickers but I haven't done any stickers in forever) where all the cel shading is real harsh and as it says in the title: no outline.

Lately, I've been more focused on lighting and texture in my digital works and just making everything 'softer' and more 'realistic' but dang, I forgot how much I missed just using my harsh and more cartoony style.

But because it looked good, here's the one with some light:

I am very happy especially since I do believe there is some improvement in the style.

(In that it doesn't look as amateur as when I first started out. But I think that's mostly cause I used monochrome here)

Does anyone else get that struggle? Feeling like you're not advancing then keep pushing yourself to change and improve but also really missing the original style?

Anyways some of y'all might be wondering where I've been for pride month....

I PROMISE IT'S NOT CAUSE I HATE PRIDE MONTH OR LGBTQ+ PLEASE PUT YOUR PITCHFORKS DOWN!!!!!

Mainly it has mostly been art block and just demotivation especially since I'm STILL WORKING ON THAT BIG PROJECT UGHHGHHHGGGHHGG.

(I'm not blaming y'all I'm just feral)

And just general procrastination.

BUT.

I do have another project in the works. So to any of my lovely marshiemallows who have seen my previous posts,

you'd know that I'm very...opinionated about Macaque. More specifically his attitude in canon and how the fandom treats him.

(Keep in mind the thing was planned before s5)

DISCLAIMER: Again, I do enjoy Mac's character. I just think he's a bit of a d!ck and kinda hates how a lot of the fandom (not all) brushes that over and throws the bucket of Wukong's sins down on the king's head.

(I also would not hesitate to wack him with a stop sign on the chopping block if given the chance /hj)

But without further ado I decided to do something other than complain and present you guys this:

Yay! So if you're into Macaca bullying, join the Mac bullying train! CHOO CHOO!

(also big thanks to @furornocturna for beta reading and helping with characterizations and stuff. There will be another post just detailing bout the fic later but yea go check them out, their work's great)

AND HAPPY ANIVERSARY TO DYNAMICSIMP FOR THE AU!