#Hear me out here... They would be buddies

[arachnidseyes]

Prev

Now, Jason likes to think he knows a thing or two about women.

Like how to flirt without being intimidating, or how to look mysterious in a cool way and not a cringe, tryhard way, or maybe how you're not supposed to insult their heroes right to their face,

Jason curses, jiggling his keys into the keyhole of his front door, the lock is jammed again. He jiggles it a little more, and honestly, he should feel embarrassed at how accomplished he feels when he hears the little “click” of the door unlocking.

Only for all that elation to be nuked the moment he spots you walking down the hallway towards your apartment, right next to his.

You've got 3 new Batman keychains jingling off your bag, 2 Batman patches sewn into the fabric and 3 little Batman pins. You've turned your work bag into a black and yellow abomination. Jason’s sure that if it was considered professional enough, you'd wear Batman printed shirts and pants to work everyday.

You glance up at him for only a moment before look down at your phone again. He wants to scream when he notices the new Batman phone case. He considers jumping off the apartment roof for a moment.

When you finally walk past him to your door, right next to his, he tries to nonchalantly clear his throat.

“Uh, hey look-”

Before he can finish he hears a familiar click and looks up at your closed front door. He sighs and pushes open his door with more force than necessary.

Roy lounges on the sofa playing some game. Noticing the state of his buddy, he asks.

“The neighbour still pissed at you?”

Jason lack of reply as he scavenges the kitchen is answer enough apparently.

“Why do you even care, man?”

Jason doesn't answer, this time because he doesn't know what he would say.

“Ah.”

Roy says in understanding though Jason seriously doubts he has any understanding at all of his predicament.

“Well, you know what you have to do.”

Jay arrives at your door the next day his hands held behind him, hiding his gift.

You open the door very slightly, and pause when you realise it's him, the very hot but very rude neighbour.

He tries a little smile,

“Uh, Sorry to bother you on a Sunday but-”

“Wait here.”

You close the door and then open it again.

“Don't move.”

Jayson doesn't move a muscle for maybe 2 minutes until you open the door again.

This time you open it all the way, and there you stand, clad in a Batman printed pajama set (with socks) and a fluffy Batman blanket pulled hastily over your shoulders.

“Continue.”

Jason huffs a laugh, his irritation about the whole Batman thing has mostly simmered down, being replaced with plain bewilderment at your commitment to the bit.

“I’m sorry…for being a dickhead.”

He brings his hands in front of him, showing you the novelty Batman mug he got off some fan site. He cringes remembering the humiliating ordeal of scrolling through pages and pages of Batman merch with Roy snickering over his shoulder.

“I already have one.”

You deadpan, Jay blinks, looks down at the mug, then back up at you. Of fucking course you do.

Before he can say anything, you take the mug gently and inspect it thoroughly as if it’ll magically turn into a Superman mug if you don’t check it first.

You then look back up at him,

“Is that all?”

He hesitates before nodding. You look like you’re seriously thinking something over for a long moment before you eventually nod.

“I’ll accept your apology, if you take me out to dinner.”

You say this quite seriously, it takes Jason a minute to even register what you said. You raise an eyebrow and Jason blinks.

“Uh, yeah, okay.”

Real fucking smooth, Jay. You let a little smile peak through and state a time and place before saying a quick “Okay, bye.” And clicking the door shut.

He stands there, not really understanding what just happened or what he's going to do next.

Maybe Jason doesn't understand woman as much as he thought he did.

[thelawfulchaotic]

I don’t know her story but I know the shape of it, and the shape of the mockery. It creeps up on you… I remember reading a book on secondary trauma exposure and burnout and it made a big deal out of not saying things behind clients backs that you wouldn’t want them to hear. “Imagine how they would feel.” And I got defensive about it; joking like that is part of survival, part of blending in with the court staff, and of course I don’t cross the line, how could this book imply —

These things can all be true:

1) Humor is a good way to cope with the absurdity of existence in this profession.

2) Sometimes you have to buddy up to prosecutors to get them to do nice things for your client.

3) You need an outlet to express your frustrations and sorrows and fears — and that outlet should be in your office, not in the courthouse.

4) The words that come out of your mouth should never disrespect the existence of your client as a human being.

Once I got kicked out of a courtroom because the judge made a joke I didn’t think was okay and I said so. Maybe I wouldn’t have said so if I wasn’t already angry about something else. I don’t think that situation did anything for my reputation. And I don’t think I’d do the same now. At least not exactly the same.

I do have an irreverent sense of humor, but I think that can coexist with genuine respect.

Example of a good one:

A man on the video screen takes off his glasses while the deputy has his back turned. Deputy looks back at the screen and reacts like there is a new face there: “Sir, could you tell me your nam— oh wait you just took off your glasses, didn’t you”

Me: “Man, you’d have a hard time IDing Superman”

(Actually got laughs from most of the courtroom, including the judge and the deputy in question.)

Example of one that’s more dubious:

(Man on the screen for a hearing explaining his dad, the alleged victim of the property damage charge, is dead as of last week. Man starts crying because his dad is literally dead.)

Judge: Can we take up bond today?

Prosecutor: We’re not prepared to take up the question of bond; we need to consult with the victim.

Me: That’s gonna be pretty tough unless the state has a medium on staff.

(Man cries louder. Prosecutor turns bright red.)

—

See, in that second one I used it as a weapon. It was verbal violence because I thought the prosecutor was being an asshole, but it also was humor in a place that was not tasteful for the client.

In the first, it was lighthearted, funny without being mean. Did give him some mild shit, but the kind of mild shit you don’t give to someone you don’t like. And he appreciated it too.

Anyway. No moral here. This is hard and sometimes I fail like everyone else.

Listen, friends, you have to understand that I defend people you hate.

It’s all well and good to hear that I defend children by speaking to them like humans. It may be less easy to hear that my child clients aren’t just accused of shoplifting or shoving their parents, but of sexual abuse of siblings, breaking into stores to rob them, crashing cars with their friends inside, threatening school shootings.

I represent sex offenders. I’ll defend a sex offender’s rights in the same breath as the rights of their victim.

I can talk about abuse with authority not just because I’ve read books but because I’ve represented abusers for years upon years, and watched them come back to court for crimes against the same victims.

I believe in the inherent value of human life no matter what horrible things that human life has done. I’m a pacifist and I disavow violence in all forms but I’ll make excuses for it all day in a courtroom.

I’ve put my money where my mouth is; I defend the “worst” of humanity because I can see with my two human eyes that it’s the only way to preserve the freedom of the “best” of humanity.

My job isn’t just being kind to the innocent. It’s being kind to them AND the worst people you’ve ever met, over and over and over, every day. Most people go their lives not really gazing regularly into the abyss. Public defenders be like, “hey, abyssal horrors beyond imagination, how’s Tuesday going.”

[lacedbykami]

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙— 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐜𝐬 (𝐱 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

author's note: made this kinda long sorry chat I love this lil psychic

⋆˚꩜｡ we all know he isn't big on pda; mainly because of his noisy ass friends and teruhashi, but I feel like as long as he can't hear them coming your way he wouldn't mind holding hands/pinkies and MAYBE (all the time he secretly loves it) in mostly empty locations he'll let you kiss his cheek.

⋆˚꩜｡ has a habit of subconsciously staring at you + overhearing your thoughts; like of course he's sneaky about it and he doesn't go out of his way to hear your thoughts, but whenever you're supposed to be studying he'll randomly overhear you thinking about how cute his smile was or some shit and suddenly he's all pink in the face.

nendo: hey buddy- what are you- AWW SOMEONES GOT A CRUSH! OI KAIDO saiki's a tomato! HAHAHAH I'm gonna pinch her later.

⋆˚꩜｡ cares but also doesn't care that people know that you two are dating; saiki hates attention more than anything, but he hates you being overwhelmed even more. So to balance this out, he lets you lead. You want to hold his hand in public? Fine. He’ll act like it’s no big deal. (his heart is racing/ also is worried about squeezing you too hard) Someone stares for too long? They get a silent glare that makes them wish they never looked. He’s not possessive — he just wants your peace of mind protected at all costs.

⋆˚꩜｡ doesn't tell you he's a psychic until about 2 months; he wanted to tell you sooner but he was worried with how easily you're surprised by stuff that this would send you into a coma. Though he was surprised at your reaction

"Wait a psychic? Like you can predict the future ku?" You asked curiously, not even phased by the statement. He shook his head and simply grabbed a spoon and your eyes widened in amazement at how it bended into a bow without him even lifting a finger. "Ohhhh so you're like magic!" "... sure." He was just happy you didn't freak out too bad + that you weren't mad.

⋆˚꩜｡ once you knew that kusuo could teleport, every night before bed before you went to sleep you would call for him in your head to kiss him goodnight;

"You do realize how silly this is?" Kusuo's voice spoke in your head, as you flicked on your fairy lights. Smiling widely as you heard your boyfriend's voice, "Hi ku! And no, it isn't silly to wanna give my boyfriend a kiss before bed. Now if you don't want my kiss-" "Turn around." You giggled, as you quickly turned. In the soft glow of warm yellow light, there stood kusuo thankful that you couldn't quite see the pink blush dusting his cheeks. "Hi sweetie." You said softly as you made your way over to him with a smile, "I see you're here for my nightly kiss right?" You ask, opening your arms. Kusuo doesn’t move for a moment. Just stands there, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets like he’s contemplating whether to teleport away or lean in further. His eyes flick briefly to the ceiling, as if asking the universe why he fell for someone so stubbornly sweet. “…I could’ve just projected a dream-version of me," his voice mutters, stepping closer despite himself. You grin. “But that wouldn't be you. Dream-you doesn’t give real kisses.” He sighs like he's being put through the greatest inconvenience of his life — though his feet carry him right into your waiting arms. You feel the tension melt from his shoulders the second you're holding him. Like this is what he came for all along, despite the snark. "You're ridiculous," he mumbles into your shoulder, but it’s so soft, almost fond. Your heart fluttering at the sudden sound of his voice outside of your thoughts, pulling back just enough to look at him, your hands coming up to gently cup his face. “Maybe. But I’m your ridiculous.” A beat of silence passes. Then, you lean in and kiss his cheek sweetly, missing the small barely there smile that tugged at his lips for a second. "Happy now?" he asks, though there's no real bite in his voice. You nod, resting your forehead against his. “Very.” He exhales again, this time quieter, and it’s not quite a sigh of annoyance — more like resignation. The kind that says, I’m never getting out of this, am I? And he’s right. He’s not. Not that he’d want to.

⋆˚꩜｡ when you're sad or not feeling well, he'll surprise you and teleport into your bedroom with snacks and stay with you until you fall asleep.

⋆˚꩜｡ you two have your first kiss at a empty park, and surprisingly he kisses you first; it was warm outside and you had decided to wear a cute pink and white dress for the weather. Upon seeing you your heart almost melted at the way he initially looked at you, eyes slightly widened and..did he say "wow?"

No I didn't, you look nice though. come on I hear nendo.

Once you guys make it to the park, you started ranting about how much you love the spring and that even though it rains it makes up for the cloudy days with pretty flowers and relatively nice weather!

As expected, you never did feel his gaze start to soften, or the way a faint smile tugged at his lips when you could tighten you grip on his hand when you started talking about your adoration for flowers.

And as expected, you didn’t notice the way he kept glancing at you — not reading your mind for once, not needing to. You were glowing under the soft sun, your dress fluttering gently with the breeze, and your voice carrying the kind of warmth that even he couldn't deflect with sarcasm.

You kept talking, oblivious, about tulips and cherry blossoms and how you wished you could plant a whole garden full of them, “But I’d probably forget to water them,” you admitted with a sheepish laugh.

That’s when it happened. He stopped walking.

You paused too, mid-sentence, confused until you turned and caught the look in his eyes. Soft. Unusually open. Like he was seeing you for the first time all over again.

“…Ku?”

He didn’t answer — not with words, anyway.

Just one step forward. One hand gently lifting to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. And before your brain could even process it, he leaned in and kissed you.

It was careful. A little hesitant, like he was testing the water. But it was also real. Warm. Honest. Like all the words he’d never say out loud were pressed into that one brief moment.

By the time he pulled away, you were frozen in place — blinking up at him, lips slightly parted, heartbeat so loud you were sure he could hear it.

He looked everywhere but at you. “It… seemed like the right time,” he muttered, almost too low to catch. “Don’t make it weird.”

⋆˚꩜｡ he pretends to be unaffected, but the tiniest things wreck him; The way you call him “Ku.” The way you grab his sleeve when you're excited. The little notes you leave in his textbook margins. He never brings them up — just folds them and keeps them in a box under his bed.

⋆˚꩜｡ damn near lost it when his brother started "getting to know you"; kuskue had come over for an unexpected visit like always, and of course knew about his little brothers girlfriend. "Damn stalker," You pinched kusuo's arm, "He isn't! I'm sure your parents just told him about me!"

"Well hello! I didn't think kusuo could ever get into a relationship, let alone with someone as nice as nice you. Y/n." You could practically feel the tension between the two brothers as kusuke smirked, "Oh no! Ku is very sweet, he's the best boyfriend a girl could ask for!"

"Is he now?" "I know where you sleep, don't test me."

⋆˚꩜｡ says I love you at your first sleepover at his house; it was late at night and you were already asleep. Curled up into his side, hands intertwined, taking up all of his space even though you bad most of the bed to yourself. The psychic sighed as you softly snored, quietly admiring your sleeping face.

He could’ve shifted away, reclaimed some of his space, maybe even used his powers to roll you back to your side of the bed — but he didn’t. Instead, he just laid there, unmoving, letting you cling to him like he was something safe. Something constant.

“…You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered under his breath, voice barely above a whisper. You shifted slightly, nuzzling your face against his chest. A quiet puff of breath tickled his shirt, and your hand gave his a lazy squeeze in your sleep. His gaze softened. The silence of the room wrapped around the two of you like a blanket, warm and still. And in the dark — with no one awake to hear, no thoughts for him to read but his own — he finally let himself say it.

“I love you.”

It came out so quietly, so naturally, like it had been sitting on the tip of his tongue for weeks, waiting for the right moment.

You didn’t stir. Didn’t hear. But that was okay.

He didn’t say it for you to hear. He said it because it was true.

And as he looked down at your peaceful expression, the corners of his lips lifted — just slightly. “Don’t expect me to repeat it when you’re awake,” he whispered, before finally closing his eyes and letting himself fall asleep beside you.

Hand still in yours. Heart quietly full.

[m-jelly]

Dont know if this request is allowed or not but can you write something with levi and his s/o have a kid that had a nightmare and was scared so badly that he or she wet the bed? And they kid scared to cry because they were worried how levi would react because they know he likes stuff clean?

Hi, I've recently done something very similar to this, so I'll try to make it a bit different.

It's okay

Levi x fem reader

Modern AU, married, dad Levi, mum reader, fluff, reassuring Levi, good dad Levi.

Evan has a terrible nightmare and wets the bed. He's worried his daddy will be upset that he made a mess, so he tries to clean up but Levi catches him. Evan cries but Levi reassures him it's okay and helps him out.

Evan sat up in bed, the last of his nightmare fading away. He hiccuped a little before looking down and seeing he'd wet the bed. "Oh no." He whimpered, it was the middle of the night, and he was sure his daddy would not be happy about the mess.

With a bit of care, he managed to move his little body and climb out of bed. He remembered seeing how his mummy and daddy had changed his sheets before, so he tried even though he was small and five. With as much strength as possible, he tugged on his covers, ending up with the whole quilt and undersheet in his hands.

He stumbled along to his door with all his things dragging behind him. He sniffled a few times as he walked the hall as quietly as possible. Evan was trying to be brave as he walked in the dark of his home. He didn't want to wake up his daddy or his pregnant mummy.

"Evan?"

Evan froze at hearing his dad's sleepy voice. "Mm."

"What are you up to?"

Evan slowly turned to face his dad, who was only wearing PJ bottoms. Tears filled Evan's eyes. "I'm sorry, daddy."

Levi's eyes widened. "Evan." He rushed over to his son as he stood in the hall, sobbing. "It's okay." He knelt in front of him and hugged him tightly. "It's okay. Daddy's here." He waited for Evan to calm down a bit so he could speak. "Alright, kiddo, tell me what happened."

"I had a nightmare."

He ruffled Evan's hair. "Oh, I'm sorry, Evan. Daddy gets nightmares, too."

Evan sniffed. "I wet the bed." He welled up and began sobbing again. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm a bad boy."

Levi panicked. "Hey, hey, hey, it's okay. You're not a bad boy." He wiped Evan's tears away. "You're not a bad boy."

"I am. Daddy hates mess."

He cupped his son's face and kissed his cheek a few times. "You're not bad. You're a good boy. You're a very good boy."

He sniffed. "Really?"

Levi nodded. "Yes. I'm always proud of you. I'm sorry if I made you think I'd be mad at you. I'm not at all. Accidents happen, okay?" He smiled at his son. "Sorry that you thought I'd be mad. I'm a bad daddy, huh?"

Evan shook his head. "Nooo, Daddy is amazing."

Levi hugged Evan tightly. "I love you so much."

"Love you too, Daddy."

Levi let him go, gathered up the bed things and walked. "Come on, buddy. We need to get you new clothes and your bed sorted."

"Okay." Evan held some of Levi's bottoms as they walked. "Is Mummy okay?"

"Mummy is still asleep."

"Good."

Levi chuckled. "You worry about Mummy like I do, huh?"

Evan nodded. "Yes."

Levi reached the laundry room, placed everything on the side and grabbed some fresh bed clothes you'd cleaned that day. "New bottoms for you, buddy." Levi helped Evan out of his things, cleaned his legs up and changed him. "Better?"

Evan smiled. "It has bunnies on it."

"It does." Levi put everything in the washing machine before grabbing new things for the bed. "So, what was your nightmare?"

Evan held Levi's hand as they walked back to his room. "Don't remember."

"Well, next time something scary happens, you shout for me, okay?"

Evan nodded. "Yes, Daddy."

Levi changed the bed with Evan's help. "I can scare the bad things away."

"Yes." Evan giggled. "Daddy is tough."

"I am." He lifted Evan up and put him in bed. "You want your rabbit?"

"Please."

Levi handed Evan his cuddly rabbit. "Here you go."

"Thank you." He gasped. "Mummy."

Levi looked over at the door to see you there, rubbing your eyes. "Yes, she's so very beautiful."

"Beautiful Mummy!"

You walked over and kissed Evan's cheek. "Thank you. Is everything okay in here?"

"I had a bad dream and had an accident."

Levi ruffled Evan's hair. "He thought I'd be angry. So, we chatted, and he now knows that I'd never be mad at him. Accidents happen and it's okay."

You ruffled Evan's hair. "Of course, it's okay sweetheart. We're here for you, okay? We love you so much."

"Love you too."

"Do you want to sleep with us?"

Evan shook his head. "I'll be brave and sleep here!" He grinned with pride.

You smiled. "Alright, but if you need us come running to us, okay?"

"Promise!"

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @demonic-bird @searriously @dreamerofthewest @abiatackerman @minminroie

[zillychu]

Finding out the Danny Phantom pitch bible originally included more creatures other than ghosts really makes me want to just (DUMPS TRANSCENDENCE AU ALL OVER IT)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hello Stranger. Whom I have never met.

 [First] Prev <–-> Next

[moeblob]

I'm sorry for the OC brain rot on main....

(the lines are from a post about "tag yourself: awkward/unflirty Sims edition" and honestly? all my OCs are awkward/unflirty so ... yeah...)

[burinazar]

It's a bit funny that to parts of my circles I'm 'the fandom one'/'the fanfic one'/'the shipping one' as the person they know most prominently into such things

because as much as i love writing my fics and shipping my ships my interest in both of those things is, I think, very narrow and specific compared to most people who are into them? due to my habits being like. very particular

[aflockofravens]

I started watching two new animes to distract myself from the endless spiraling void and holy fuck they are tooth-rotting sugar fluff, I think I'm actually getting cavities.

[lizardho]

When I came out, I was SO scared I was gonna get disowned. I wrote a letter to my parents, sent it to their emails, put a physical copy on the counter, and left the house for a few hours to give them time. In that time I tried coffee for the first time, which was a dreadful idea, and got all jittery. I kept waiting for a text or something but nothing happened.

After a few hours, I didn’t hear back from them so I went home. My parents were home and had stacked a bunch of groceries on top of the letter without opening it. They said “hi” and I said “hi” and went down stairs to the basement. I held my dog and panicked about what to do. My sister, who knew that I had written them a letter of great importance, told me they hadn’t read it yet. She also told me she could ask them to do so. I consented to this and stayed in the basement. A few minutes later my dad knocked on the door and poked his soft smooth little nerd head in and said “hey buddy” and I started crying so hard I almost vomited. He came over and gave me a BIG hug and said that it was gonna be OK, he was OK with this, he knew it must have been hard but he was here for me. He told me he and my mom had already talked years before they had me about how if they had to pick between their faith and their child they’d pick their child. It was a very sweet moment. I came out to my mom later that evening and we were both bawling the whole time.

The day after I came out to my parents, I came out to my brother @inbabylontheywept at a Mexican restaurant and he took it like a champ. That evening my mom took me for a walk and looked almost angry - she said she wanted to make sure that I didn’t use being a woman as an excuse to not go to grad school. I told her I wouldn’t and she instantly looked relieved and happier.

My dad, on the other hand, seemed to struggle with it. He kept asking me if I had a boyfriend, and I told him I did not. He kept asking me if I wanted to go clothes shopping with him and I did not. He kept asking me if I would let him go to some of my shows, and I had NO idea what he was talking about.

Finally, 6 months after coming out, of awkward misgendering and questions that didn’t make sense from my dad, he excitedly pokes his soft smooth little nerd head into my bedroom again and says “I found a movie about Your People.” My people. I was absolutely bewildered, but he was so excited and I knew he had been trying SO hard so I watched it with him. It was The Birdcage, and it was amazing. It also was revelatory in that I finally realized why my initially-supportive father seemed to be having such a hard time with my pronouns and stuff - he didn’t know what the difference between trans and doing drag was. After the movie he again asked if I would invite him to one of my shows, and I said, “Hey dad, you know how about half the world is women?” And he said “yeah,” and I said “Well, see, I’m on that half now. I’m not doing drag.” And it was like a switch flipped in his brain. He was like “omg that’s so easy? I was so confused about what to call you when?”

Anyway, my parents are charming and my family has been so kind and patient with me, I like sharing the stories of my little wins with them.

[wwinterwitch]

friendly banter — bucky barnes

summary: sam asks for your help on a mission. you're reunited with him, Joaquín and Bucky. the last one really likes to banter. you think it's just a friendly exchange. it's actually a bit more than that

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader (+ platonic friendships with sam and joaquín)

word count: 5k

tags: friends to lovers, sharing feelings (awkward but cute), reader is a hacker and former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, fluff, undisclosed feelings (mutual), kissing

note: this was kind of a mess but i'm back after a long time on not writing any fics! i'm currently in my last months of studying to become a lawyer (yay) and writing fics has proven to be very therapeutic during this time. this may or may not suck but i enjoyed writing it so i hope you enjoy it

please reblog and/or comment if you enjoy!

all masterlists | marvel masterlist | part 2 (features the thunderbolts* now)

"Got eyes on it?"

You stop walking as soon as you hear that question, staring ahead in disbelief. "You mean...the huge panel in the middle of the room?" you ask with obvious sarcasm, trying to speak as quietly as possible through your comm as you make your way further inside the darkened room.

It’s a typical security room with tons of cameras pointing to every corner of the building. To your relief, the presence of your group is apparently still unnoticed as your eyes wander across the various screens in front of you, noticing no commotion or an unnecessarily large group of unfriendly-looking guys rushing to find you. The large panel control installed in the middle of the desk before you is the thing that immediately gets your attention as you walk closer, always keeping in mind the task at hand.

All you really have to do is hack into the system to disable the security protocols long enough for Sam and Joaquín to sneak into the top floors of the building to retrieve the data that they wanted from the bad guy's records in order to find out more about the gang they'll be (hopefully) putting behind bars soon.

This is not the first and definitely not the last time you'll be doing these kinds of favors for Sam. Your friendship goes way back, when you were still a nobody at S.H.I.E.L.D. that somehow managed to get on Captain America's good graces after that whole Washington fiasco. You're still unsure why Steve always thought so highly of you. Then again, he was the type of guy who never failed to see the potential in other people, even when they couldn't quite see it themselves.

Now, you get to help the new Captain America, who's also as dear to you as the previous one was...perhaps just a tiny bit more annoying, but one of your dearest friends regardless.

As you rush over to the panel, you have to jump over the unconscious body of a security guard that Bucky (another dear friend you met thanks to Steve) took care of before you walked inside, quickly taking a seat in front of the large keyboard to start doing your part of the job.

You hear the unmistakable chuckle from Joaquín as you quickly type in a series of codes and commands. "Jeez, I missed having you on our missions!"

"Awwh!" you mutter with genuine endearment. "I missed being part of these missions too, buddy!"

"And we're still going out for drinks after this, right?"

"Are you genuinely asking me that, Joaquín Torres?" you ask, sounding overly offended on purpose.

You hear him laugh again, but before he can say anything back, you hear Bucky interrupting the exchange. "How about we focus on not getting caught here and then you guys can discuss your night plans?"

"Uh-oh, old man got upset," you joke soon after, finishing to type in the last few codes to fully disable the security system. Surely they have some backup protocol that would soon trigger the alarm to alert these guys of an unwanted visitor, but by then all of you will be long gone. It really is a very simple mission.

"He's jealous you're not taking him out for drinks," Sam jokes back, and then you immediately hear Joaquín agreeing with him.

It's a normal occurrence for Sam to be making those kinds of jokes involving you and Bucky. He has been making those types of remarks for as long as you can remember, fully convinced the two of you "have something going on" as he has put it before. You really try not to think too much about it because, first off, Sam loves to say shit just for the sake of pissing you and Bucky off and, second...you really don't want to let those comments get to your head.

You don't want to let yourself wonder about the what if's of that. There was a time in your life when you did allow yourself to fantasize about the possibility of actually "having something going on" with him, but you learnt to shut off that part of your brain in order to avoid getting your hopes up regarding a situation that just wouldn't happen outside your imagination. Hearing Sam’s silly remarks would only bring you back to those days.

Bucky has been one of your best friends for years and he has never shown the slightest of hints that he might be interested in you in the way you would like (at least not that you're aware of), and there was absolutely no way that you would ever make the first move and risk embarrassing yourself in front of him or, even worse, losing the friendship you two have. You eventually just got comfortable in the abyss of eternal friendzone and learned to accept it. If there was ever going to happen something between the two of you, surely it would've happened by now.

Still, Sam seems to be holding onto that rope for dear life and refuses to let it go. You can't deny it’s a bit uncomfortable to hear those jokes though. They somehow make you feel like somehow you got caught and everyone knows you have a secret crush on Bucky, but you've learned to adapt over the years.

"First part's done.” Leaning back on the chair, you watch the percentage bar on the screen before you, completely ignoring Sam's little joke. "A few more seconds and you're up guys!"

"Hallway’s clear," you hear Bucky say, still guarding the room where you're currently in. "How much time do we have to get out of here?"

"Uh...I can't say for sure. Anywhere near five to thirty, maybe?"

"Minutes?"

"Seconds."

"Oh, great," he mutters ironically.

"Well, I'm sorry. We're hacking into a very sophisticated system that I don't entirely know how it works!" you snap back at him. "Besides, the whole point of this is to give Joaquín and Sam enough time to sneak inside without having to deal with a bunch of guards going straight for them. Bad guys will know we're down here and they'll come looking for us first."

"Isn't hacking your whole thing? How do you not know how it works?" he asks, and just by the tone of his voice you know he's trying to piss you off, because he knows that's exactly the type of comments that would make you upset. If that type of comment came from a stranger you would be strangling them right now, but it’s Bucky, and he seems to enjoy annoying the shit out of you.

"Big talk coming from someone who still asks for my help because he barely knows how to unlock his own phone."

The sound of his faint chuckle immediately makes you smile, perfectly picturing the way he's probably rolling his eyes just barely right now, trying to suppress a smirk as if you could possibly see him right now, knowing he hates when you point it out to him.

"You have to give me some credit, though. I know how to program emails on that thing now. Soon enough I'll be taking your job, so you better watch out."

You can't help but laugh at his reply, slightly shaking your head as you realize you’re getting distracted by him, trying to keep your focus on what you're supposed to be doing right now rather than indulge in a never ending back-and-forth with him. As soon as you type the last codes and the large SECURITY SYSTEM: DISABLED alert pops on the monitor, you quickly rise up from your seat. "You're up guys, hurry!"

"On it!" Sam replies as you rush outside the room.

Before he even says anything to you, Bucky is quickly guiding you down the hallway with the intent of getting out of there as soon as possible, turning to look at you with a confused expression when you stop walking and, instead, start yanking his arm to go in the opposite direction.

"What are you doing?"

"The exit is that way," you point out as if it’s obvious.

He looks even more confused now, and slightly annoyed. "Don't think so. That's the way we entered, but there's another way of leaving this place a lot faster."

"No, we can't change the plan!"

He definitely looks annoyed now, trying not to snap at you. "I'm not changing the plan. Exiting that way has always been the plan. If we go that way, we'll-"

Before he can say anything else, the loud sound of an alarm blasts through the entire building, signaling that you've been discovered and you'll be having company very soon. As if that wasn't enough, the door of the room you were previously in opens violently, and the guard that was previously unconscious on the floor is frantically alerting more people through his radio.

“Oh, that’s great,” you point out, slightly panicking right now because you’re still inside the building. “You decided to wake up early, huh?”

Bucky immediately grabs the guy by his bulletproof vest to throw him against the wall, taking his barely regained consciousness to his advantage. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice about six other guys coming towards you, turning around the same corner you wanted to run towards as part of your escape plan. Sadly, that's when you realized maybe the direction Bucky was suggesting was better.

You’re unsure of what to do now. It's not like you haven't been taught how to take down a few bad guys, but your specialities have always involved computers rather than physical combat. Almost as if he could read your mind, Bucky turns towards you for a quick second. "Go! I'll catch up to you." Again, almost as if he knew that you'd try to ask if he was sure about it, he immediately shouts yet another "Go!" before you're finally deciding to do as he says, running down the hall in the direction he has intended to go before.

Hours later, second after second that passes by, you’re more and more convinced that you'll never hear the end of it. If only you could go back in time and just agree with Bucky's plan rather than trying to argue with him. It would have spared you a lifetime of him reminding you how he was right and you were wrong.

Turns out his exit plan was the one you should've followed all along, because it actually led to the engine room which immediately meant being in a much less crowded part of the building to escape without risking bumping into more people.

All of you had enough time to change into something more comfortable to go out for drinks. Initially it was something you and Joaquín had planned alone, but evidently the two of you didn’t hesitate to invite Sam and Bucky. Of course they accepted the invite, and of course Bucky has done his very best to keep reminding you of your little mistake.

"Listen, if you don't want shit like that to happen again, just let me know your plan beforehand."

"But I did let you know. The problem is that someone is not really a good listener."

"No. Letting me know- like, properly letting me know, would've been telling me before we got inside that building."

Bucky smirks as he leans back on his chair, and it's obvious to you he's really enjoying this banter. "Plan changed at the last minute. If you would've just followed my lead, we could've left that building a lot faster."

"Ah, so you do recognize that wasn't the original plan!" you exclaim with a triumphant grin, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You changed it all by yourself and didn't tell me."

"Changed at the last minute," he repeats, as if to correct you. "You wanted me to stand there and explain every detail to you?"

"Oh, as if explaining it would've taken you hours! You’re always so dramatic."

"Children," Sam commented, interrupting the banter with an unamused expression. "I had to trust the operation to literal children."

Bucky scoffs at that comment, watching as Sam lets out a chuckle, shaking his head after witnessing this whole interaction between the two of you.

"Kinda makes you appreciate having an actual professional around, huh?" Joaquín says right after, flashing a charming smile in Sam's direction.

"Oh, please!" you, Bucky and Sam reply in unison, earning an offended look from Joaquín.

Soon after, Bucky is speaking again. "You know what? I'll give you some credit. You managed to do your part of the job…decently."

It’s obvious he wants a reaction from you, but even if your banter is entertaining, you know you can't keep bickering the entire night. Once again, you can’t help but to feel embarrassed, as if everyone at that table knows your little secret regarding your feelings towards Bucky. As if some innocent banter between friends could ever give it away. Besides, the four of you are here to celebrate your mission was a success, and the fact that you haven't seen the trio in a long time makes it the perfect opportunity to catch up.

Pretending to fully ignore his last comment, you turn to look at Sam from across the table. "You. I haven't seen your lovely face in a while," you start, watching him physically get ready for whatever silly comment you might come up with. "Tell me what you've been up to...I've seen the photos of you shaking hands with the President," the reference to Everett Ross sounding anything but endearing.

Sam sighs, shrugging. "Yeah, well, I guess you can say it's part of the job," he simply replies before taking a quick sip of his beer. "I can't say I'm thrilled about it, but I figured it's best to compromise a bit and keep the man happy. As long as he stays in line, I'll cooperate."

"Of course you're not thrilled about it, Sam. That's the same guy that put your ass in a prison in the middle of nowhere like you were some kind of top security criminal!" you reply almost immediately, still in disbelief at the revelation of any sort of alliance between him and Ross. Sam's expression lets you know that even he is still conflicted about it, not really knowing what to say. After taking a brief pause, you try to say something else to lighten the mood, not wanting him to think like you’re judging him for it. "Hey, I understand having to keep up appearances. I get it. And please accept my deepest condolences for having to deal with that piece of shit."

Your last comment makes the three of them laugh, and Bucky takes the opportunity to change the subject. "And what have you been up to?" he asks, sounding genuinely curious. "It's been a while since any of us has seen you."

"Well, my life has been all over the place the last few months. As all of you know, I moved into a new apartment. I loved my roommate, but I felt it was time to just live by myself, you know?"

"So no plans of leaving New York to move to D.C., huh?" Joaquín asks with a smile.

You return the smile immediately. "As fun as it would be to live closer to all of you weirdos, no. I plan to stay in New York for now. I'm just really comfortable there with the new apartment, the promotion I got a few months ago, the fact that most of my family and friends are there..."

"But not all your friends," Sam quickly points out, pretending to sound incredibly offended by your last statement. "But since we’re talking about friends and just social life in general...are you still single?"

"Why are you always so interested in my love life?" you joke with a playful grin, taking a sip of your margarita to leave him wondering the answer just a few seconds more. "Yes, I'm still single. Queen's full of creeps," you added shortly after. "Are any of you seeing anybody?"

"Proudly and happily single," Joaquín replies, raising his drink up as if to cheer before taking a sip.

Sam gives him a very visible side-eye. "Yikes," is all he says regarding that, turning back to you. "I'm not interested in dating right now, to be honest. I’m quite a busy gentleman, you know?" 

“And you say ‘yikes’ to me?” Joaquín says immediately after, looking dumbfounded.

You chime in before any of them could add anything else regarding that. “Bucky?” you ask, turning to look at him as you await his answer.

It was a bold move to directly ask him that question. On one hand, you know Bucky has always been a loner so you’re almost certain that he’s single. But there’s always that tiny percentage of probability that you’ll learn a truth you’re not sure how you’ll handle. He’s your best friend, of course you’ll be happy if he’s happy…but the idea of him revealing to you that he’s dating someone might actually make you physically sick.

You notice Bucky gets uncomfortable right away. “I’m single too.”

The pleasant feeling of relief lasts just a few seconds. The fact that Sam laughs at Bucky’s reply has your mind spinning, not understanding why he would laugh at that. Why the fuck is he laughing? Should you start panicking already?

"Actually, our buddy has been on a few dating apps, I believe."

Oh no. 

Even when you try to remind yourself not to care about anything remotely romantic involving Bucky- or at least, not to care more than a platonic friend would, you can deny the news of him possibly dating someone or even just randomly talking to any person in those apps makes your stomach turn. It really wouldn't be dramatic to claim that you could quite literally throw up right now at the thought of him and someone else right now.

It's not common to hear any sort of updates regarding Bucky's love life because...well, there's never any developments. He's never shown interest in anyone, and as far as you know he's never had any sort of relationship with anyone like that– serious or casual. What if he's interested in exploring that part of his life now? What if he has found someone already and you're about to hear him talk all about them? It makes you genuinely sick, but you try your best to act as unbothered as you possibly can, forcing you to mask your disgust and heartbreak with pleasant surprise.

"Is that so?" is all you say.

He looks even more uncomfortable by the subject, choosing to look down at his almost finished beer. "It's not...I was just trying to put myself out there," he says awkwardly, shrugging. "Long story short, online dating is not for me. I hated it."

You could tell he doesn’t really like talking about this subject, so you try to quickly ease the tension with a bit of humor. Besides, you're probably better off without hearing anything regarding that topic anyway. "It's because you couldn't figure out how the whole swiping thing worked, isn't it?"

Bucky immediately seems to relax with your joke, chuckling a bit. "It took me a few days actually." He takes a quick pause before continuing. "I probably should've asked you for help."

If there was any hidden message behind his last statement, it completely goes over your head because you genuinely thought it was just part of your playful banter regarding his lack of skills when it comes to technology. You laugh, and in return Bucky offers you a smile because that's as much hinting as he dares to do out loud, especially if Sam and Joaquín are sitting right there. He's incredibly used to you never getting his subtle implications anyway.

In front of you, the other two guys are watching this exchange unfold, and it's hard to tell which one of them has a bigger urge to tell you to stop being so fucking oblivious already. As subtle as he can be, Joaquín pokes Sam's side with his elbow to give him a quick heads-up before speaking. "Considering everyone's almost finished, Sam and I are getting another round of drinks."

The two of them are standing up when they notice you're grabbing your purse and standing up as well. "Oh, I can go with you. I have to go to the restroom anyway."

The two of them want to yet again yell at you to please get a grip on the situation, but Sam just silently takes a seat as you and Joaquín go over to the bar, quickly telling him what you want to order before heading towards the restroom.

A few drinks later the four of you are finally leaving the bar. Sam and Joaquín left to their respective houses while you and Bucky shared an Uber back to his own place. He was kind enough to let you crash in his spare room for the night. It's not like this is the first time you've ever stayed at his apartment when you visit the boys, but you can't deny the idea is both thrilling and terrifying- not like anything would happen to make you feel like that...you two are just friends...but, still...your silly head likes to get silly ideas sometimes.

Deciding not to indulge in your little fantasies, you decide to start a conversation. "Update on the food?" you ask, turning to look at Bucky, who sits comfortably on the sofa of his living room.

"Like ten minutes away," he says, taking a quick look at the screen. "How come you haven't congratulated me for knowing how to order food with this thing?" he added with evident surprise, making you chuckle.

"Because you keep saying 'this thing' like it's some mysterious device completely unknown to mankind," you reply, and before you can stop yourself, you continue. "It's cute, I guess, so congratulations."

Bucky's grin grows wider. "Oh, so it's cute?"

You try really hard not to panic, feeling incredibly embarrassed. The fact that he seems to be enjoying what you just said makes it even worse, because you know he’ll use that to tease you now. He just finds any possible excuse to do it. "Cute as in lame."

He chuckles. "Right."

Not knowing what else to say, you clear your throat before walking towards him, taking a seat next to him as you try to come up with something else to change the subject immediately. "I'm starving," is all you say, mentally scolding you for such a poor effort.

As soon as you're sitting, you unsuccessfully try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach when he leans just a bit closer...perhaps if you weren't hyper vigilant whenever the two of you are too near you might've missed it. And then, he stretches his arm across the back of the sofa, right behind you.

For a second, you even thought of mocking him for such a move, but bringing more attention to it would only make you that much nervous, and you really don't want to embarrass yourself. And most importantly, you don't want your silly mind and your silly heart to get their hopes up. You're just friends, nothing else.

"Me too," he agrees, the playful grin on his face still not disappearing. "Might have to steal a few fries from you."

"Oh, I'd really like to see you try stealing my food," you reply in the same playful tone, leaning just a little closer to him without even noticing that you were actually doing that.

"I think I deserve some compensation after what happened today. You know, for all the unnecessary ass-kicking I had to do."

"Just when I thought you had moved on from that!" you reply, jokingly slapping his knee. "It wasn't my fault, it was yours for not telling me the plan on time!"

"You should've just trusted me," he insists. "But you always have to be right on everything..."

You know he's joking. There's something about bantering with you that seems to absolutely fascinate him. "Yeah, and you always want to piss me off."

Bucky chuckles again, and that's when you feel his hand gently resting on your shoulder, his arm fully around you. What the actual fuck is going on. "What, you think I like pissing you off?" he asks, tone slightly lower than before, which inevitably makes the butterflies in your stomach multiply. "Is that why you think I do it?"

You were quiet for a moment, your brain not entirely registering what's happening. "I mean...yeah."

He stops for a second, and you almost see a hint of hesitation on his face before he speaks, letting out a frustrated sigh. "For someone who claims to be so much more clever than anyone else, I would've expected you to figure it out sooner," he starts, shaking his head with a soft smile. "I've been actually flirting with you, doll."

The comment evidently takes you by surprise and all you can do is to stare back at him like a complete fool. His arm around your shoulders, the proximity, the fact he had the fucking audacity to call you that nickname...did you somehow fall asleep on his couch without noticing and this is the type of oddly-realistic dream your brain decided to come up with? Are you still standing there like a fool just fantasizing and this one just got way too immersive? And did he really just say that he's been flirting with you?

Noticing you weren't saying anything, he decides to continue, looking a little hesitant and disappointed with your silence. "You know, it'd be really nice if you say something..."

"Awful way to flirt," is all you could come up with, which immediately makes him burst out laughing. 

"Maybe," he agrees. "But I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out. I mean…Sam and Joaquín did a long time ago."

"The three of you share the same brain cell, of course they figured it out a long time ago,” you reply, still in complete shock to be having this conversation with him. Were you really that blind? "You could’ve just asked me."

"You know I'm not direct like that," he replies, and the shy look on his face almost makes your heart melt. "Like I said, I was relying on your impressive intelligence to figure it out."

You let out a soft chuckle after his last comment, immediately giving him a warning look. "Don't." He looks back at you for a few seconds, almost wanting to challenge you after noticing the way you’re looking at him. Soon enough, he’s unable to hide his smirk anymore. "There it is," you point out, knowing he hates that.

Bucky lets out a soft grunt as a complaint, resting his head on your shoulder. Encouraged, you immediately move a hand up to his hair, affectionately playing with it. The two of you stay like that, simply enjoying being so close to each other. It feels incredibly right.

"So how do you feel?" he eventually asks, perhaps feeling braver to ask now that he doesn’t have to look into your eyes when he does.

You don’t reply right away, still feeling incredibly nervous despite knowing he does like you back. Eventually, you do build up the courage to say something. "I like you. Like, a lot."

Bucky moves back to look at you know. The look on his face gives you the impression that he wasn’t expecting you to be so honest with your answer, perhaps expecting another silly joke or sarcastic remark. And even though you thought about the possibility of choosing a more humorous approach, after keeping your feelings for him locked up and stored away for so long, you really needed to just say it.

Instead of saying something back, Bucky tightens his grip around your shoulders just enough, using his other hand to grab your chin right before kissing you. It certainly takes you by surprise, but you're quickly returning the kiss as you just completely melt in his arms, still trying to convince yourself that this is not some kind of hyper-realistic dream.

His hand swiftly moves to your cheek as the kiss continues, the gesture so incredibly delicate, a sharp contrast with the pure need he’s transmitting through the kiss. It’s desperate, passionate, intense…like he’s been waiting an entire lifetime to finally be able to experience this, grateful for the absolute privilege that it is to kiss you.

One of your hands moves up to the back of his neck and your touch seems to encourage him that much more because before you know it, he's taking the opportunity to gently bite your bottom lip, right before continuing to make out with you.

Much to yours and Bucky's disappointment, the sound of his apartment's doorbell echoes through the apartment, indicating the food you previously ordered has arrived.

He reluctantly pulls away with a soft grunt. "Food's here," he comments out loud, offering you a soft smile. He takes a brief moment to look at you, brushing his thumb against your cheek in an affectionate manner, dreading the idea of having to leave this couch. "I'll get it."

"I can help," you offer almost immediately.

Instead of replying right away, he leans in for a short kiss. "I'll get it," he insists, quickly making his way to the door after another buzz could be heard.

You sat in his living room in complete disbelief of what just happened, thankful that he's not here right now to see your goofy smile and blushed cheeks. He'd probably tease you to no end if he did see that.

Not knowing what else to do, you immediately reach for your phone, opening your messages. You knew exactly who would be the right people to share the news with.

'uhm so we just kissed??????' you texted, the first message in the group chat you just created with Sam and Joaquín.

Joaquín is the first one to reply. 'HELL YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!'

'FUCKING FINALLY.' Sam texts shortly after.

[inbabylontheywept]

the house i grew up in was a little bit of a fixer upper. for the first 19 years, my dad just sort of slowly fixed it, but pretty early on in college, he came into a large amount of cash and decided to just do the whole thing at once. so he rented a different house for like, 2 months that was just a block down from us, and then got a bunch of contractors to fix original house ASAP. it was kind of crazy, but it compressed many years of work into like, three months.

the sitting in a new house for three months was actually pretty fun. and i shouldnt really complain at all (staying at home while in college is a sweet deal)

but.

but. my parents are fairly hard of hearing, and their bedroom in the old house was in the furthest possible annex from everyone else. wheras in the rental it was just in the middle of the house. so without going into details, i was extremely aware that my parents were having sex like, eight times a day. my dad had just retired and i guess they were celebrating, which is great i guess, having parents that really like each other is way better than the alternative, but also, it did make me envy their deafness. i kept headphones on for so long that year i got literal ear calluses.

at the same time, the house my buddy from the shoe incident grew up in flooded. turbo flooded. they burst like, two pipes at once and the damage was so severe they had to redo all the flooring and all the drywall. his family actually had homeowners insurance, which is either incredible or suspicious for a family that used the drained pool in their backyard to store rusty scrap metal. so insurance was handling the work, but in the meantime, they were crammed into a very small hotel room space. we did the math on it then, it averaged about 80 square feet a person.

so one day i got home, and i was chilling, and then six rolled around, and apparently six o'clock was sex o'clock because my parents decided to flex their cardio. i grabbed my headphones and prayed that god would do for me what he did for beethoven, but that failed to work, and then seven rolled around and my parents were still at it, which again, very impressive, but was pushing me to swap out judas for mozart in those prayers. there's a definitive point where you stop praying to be deaf and instead pray that god could take you to a nice field and pop you like a gore-balloon.

i was about five minutes away from that point when my friend called me and basically said i have been stuck in a 500 square foot space with 6 people and i didn't have many marbles to start but what few i had are gone. please. if we are friends, if we were ever friends, take me out of here just for a moment.

and i was still pretty mad at him, but i had pity on the poor guy. also helped that i was desperate to leave the house. so i drove the chickenshitmobile to the hotel and i picked him up, and then we did our normal hangout activity, which was go to food city and buy produce. his normal house was, on a good day, nasty, and his backyard was, as i stated before, mostly used to store mosquito larvae and rusty metal, so what we'd always done before was just walk to the grocery store a half block away and leer at vegetables.

so we did that and it was like old times again. they had some radishes that were expired, so i could buy like, literally an entire grocery bag of them for about $5. so i did. i really like radishes. he got a coconut because he liked fruit and beating things with hammers.

which probably would've been great except we didn't have a hammer, so instead we spent about 30 minutes stomping itike it owed us money. when it finally cracked we cheered like we just got the winning touchball at the superdome and then he ate some of the flesh, and i ate some of the radishes, and we admired the black, starless sky of the city before i took him back to his hotel room.

and then we got pulled over.

i forgot to turn my lights on because the street all around the food city was ludicrously well lit. so it went from being pretty bright, to pretty bright and flashy, then i pulled into a parking lot and a cop came to ask us for IDs which is where everything went to shit:

i’d forgotten my license at home. 

the cop was was actually kind of chill about it - he said he could get by with just an address. except i did not know my address. i hadn't memorized the new one yet. so i told the cop, my house is getting remodeled, i don't know my address right now. and then he went to my friend, and my friend said the exact same thing. house getting remodeled, staying somewhere else, no address, sowwwwwwy.

now the cop genuinely didn't know what to do. he went back to his car, and i was stressed that i was about to get into HUGE trouble so i started eating the radishes and my buddy started eating more of his coconut, and we actually managed to eat like a quarter of both before the cop came back. we ate enough produce that he could smell something weird in the air, and he asked what the smell was, and i said radishes, and my buddy said coconut, and the cop said which, and then we produced a large bag of droopy radishes and an absolutely brutalized coconut, and the cop was just like

so my buddy tried explaining how he was sharing a 500 square foot apartment with 6 people and wanted a fruit he could fight with power tools, and i tried explaining how i'd actually tried buying my parents like, board games and puzzles and stuff but nothing worked - the only thing my parents seemed to like doing right now was each other, and we both went on long enough and pathetically enough that the cop eventually went:

ok. stop.

and we stopped.

and he said do you know why i pulled you over?

and i said, because of my headlights, and my friend (who is hispanic) and the cop both looked at me like like i was the dumbest person in the entire world. and then the cop said no. that's why i'm allowed to pull you over. i checked your car because this neighborhood has a terrible sex trafficking problem, and i pull over every car i can to make sure no one is buying or selling sex. and you two are obviously doing neither. now i could give you, like, four tickets right now, but that would do nothing to make this area safer, so just turn your lights on, go home, drive safe, and try to be less stupid in the future.

and i said okay but i was thinking, you know, damn, this is just how i live man, i don't have a hidden third gear i can shift into. people can't just get smarter because it would be convenient. it's always convenient to be smart. i am literally trying my best.

but i didn't say anything because i was, slowly, learning how to filter what i said. instead i nodded and the cop left then i dropped my buddy off, and the last thing he said was said he owed me for responding to his SOS. I said he owed me for a lot of things, and he agreed that was true. then i drove home with my lights on, 5 under the speed limit, and arrived to a peaceful quiet home. I could’ve wept with relief but instead I went to bed.

the relief was short lived. i was woken up at 6 am by my parents. i swore, and then i prayed, and when i did not explode, i swore again. then i got up to make breakfast before my first class.

[maskedbyghost]

Part 2 of fuck buddies with Simon (now with extra emotional damage)

You didn’t text him, you didn’t call, you didn’t chase.

But you did send one final message.

“This is the last time, Simon. I can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to be someone you only need when you’re lonely or angry or tired. I wanted you, not just your time or your hands or your body. You don’t have to say anything—I’m just letting you know I’m done. Please don’t come back. I won’t open the door.”

Then you blocked him.

Phone, socials, everything. And not in some dramatic, screaming, flinging-plates kind of way.

And for the first few days, nothing happened. No messages, no banging on the door, and no surprise visits in the middle of the night. Just silence.

But on Simon’s end?

Hell broke loose.

He didn’t even notice the message right away. He was halfway through watching a game when he opened his phone and saw it sitting there, timestamped four hours ago. He read it once, then again, and then stared at it like maybe if he glared hard enough, the words would disappear.

But they didn’t.

He tried to reply, of course. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard for longer than he’d admit. But when he hit send, the message didn’t go through.

His jaw clicked tight. Something cold and ugly twisted low in his chest. He tossed his phone onto the couch and paced. He thought about showing up at your place but didn’t. Not yet. Not when he didn’t even know what he was going to say.

It hit him, slowly. That you weren’t bluffing. That you meant it this time.

That he fucked it. Bad...

A month later

You’re sitting across from a guy who actually listens when you talk. He laughs at your jokes, asks you questions. He looks at you like he’s interested—not just in your body, but in your thoughts, opinions, and favorite takeout order.

It’s... weird. Not bad weird. Just different. Good, even.

You're at a quiet restaurant, corner booth, tucked into a little space with candlelight and soft jazz playing overhead. You’re just reaching for your drink when you hear it.

The click of a safety being flipped off, before your date goes still.

“Don’t move,” a voice says, low and dark behind him.

You know that voice.

Your blood runs cold before you even look at him.

Simon stands there, one hand is braced on the back of your date’s chair. The other? Holding a gun pointed directly at the side of the poor guy’s head.

“Simon—what the fuck are you doing?” you hiss, scrambling out of the booth.

“I just wanna talk,” he says, voice way too calm for someone with a loaded weapon in hand.

Your date is sweating, hands raised. “Hey, man, I don’t want any trouble—”

“Did I ask you what you wanted?” Simon snaps. Then he smiles. Smiles. “You’re gonna get up and leave. Right now. No questions. Go.”

The guy doesn’t argue. He bolts so fast he almost trips over a chair.

You stand there, staring at Simon like you’re seeing him for the first time. And in a way, you are.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you ask, shoving him back. “Are you insane?”

“I said I just wanted to talk,” he mutters, sliding into the booth like he didn’t just commit a felony in front of three tables.

“Jesus, Simon. You scared the hell out of him. You scared me. You don’t just pull a gun on someone because you’re feeling jealous!”

“I’m not jealous,” he says, lying through his teeth.

“Get out.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“You don’t get to show up here like this. You don’t get to throw a tantrum just because I moved on. You made it clear how you felt—or didn’t feel. Remember that?”

Simon’s hands are curled into fists on the table. He looks like he’s about to explode. But instead of yelling, he just leans forward, jaw clenched so hard.

“I fucked up,” he says. “I know I did.”

“Yeah,” you say coldly. “You really did.”

-

Aftar that, he doesn’t text you. After all, he is still blocked, so he can't.

So he writes notes. Slips them under your door, even though you never respond.

"I miss you." "I keep thinking about what you said. You're right. I treated you like shit. I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to try." "Still can’t sleep. I keep rolling over expecting you to be there. You're not."

You don’t write back.

Then the gifts start showing up. A bouquet of roses, your favorite. A playlist on a USB drive. A book you mentioned once, two years ago, that he somehow remembered.

He shows up to your building sometimes. Just sits on the steps, waiting, but not in a creepy way—he knows to keep his distance. But he’s there. Rain, cold, whatever. He waits.

One night, you come home late, and he stands when he sees you. “I’ll go if you want,” he says quietly. “Just... let me know you’re okay.”

You don’t say anything. Just unlock the door and go inside.

He doesn’t leave for another hour.

Two months in.

He catches you on your way to work.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he says, walking beside you like he belongs there. “Just... give me a chance to make it right. Let me earn it.”

You stop walking. Look at him.

He looks rough. The beard’s thicker, the eyes are darker, and the weight of regret sits heavy on his shoulders.

“You can’t fix this with flowers and sad eyes,” you say. “I needed you. And you made me feel like a mistake.”

“I know,” he says, voice cracking. “I know I don’t deserve another shot. But I’m still gonna try. Every day. Until you tell me to stop.”

“And what if I never change my mind?”

“Then I’ll still keep showing up.”

He means it.

You can see it in the way he looks at you now—not hungry, not possessive. Just wrecked. Like he lost something irreplaceable and knows it.

You don’t let him follow you to work.

But for the first time in weeks, you don’t feel as angry. Not because he’s forgiven. Not even close. But because he finally looks like he’s suffering the way you did.

Three months.

You’re out with friends when he shows up again. This time, unarmed thankfully.

You’re tipsy, laughing, leaning into someone else’s shoulder—some other guy’s—and Simon sees it before you do. You turn and there he is, standing just far enough to not make a scene, but close enough to make your heart drop.

You think he’s going to come over. Ruin the night. Scare the guy off again.

He doesn’t.

He just nods at you. One short, respectful tilt of his head. Then he walks away.

No words, nor begging, trying to guilt you into anything.

And that gets to you more than the thousand apologies he could’ve offered.

Four months.

It’s your birthday.

You don’t tell anyone. You keep it lowkey on purpose, like if no one says anything, you can just pretend it’s any other day. You don’t want the reminders. You don’t want the well-meaning texts from people who don’t know what you’ve been dealing with. You definitely don’t want to wonder whether or not Simon remembers.

But he does.

You find out when you get home and there’s a small package sitting at your door. No note. No name. Just your initials written on the wrapping in the handwriting you know better than your own.

You think about throwing it away. You almost do, but curiosity wins, and inside the plain brown paper is a little black box.

You open it and your breath catches.

It’s that necklace you once pointed at in a store window downtown—months ago, maybe even a year. A tiny silver ghost on a chain. You made some stupid joke about how it looked like him: “emotionally unavailable, disappears without warning, weirdly endearing.”

He didn’t laugh at the time. Just rolled his eyes and muttered something like “you’re annoying” under his breath.

You never mentioned it again, but he remembered.

You stare at it for a long time. You don’t cry, don’t smile either. You just sit there on your hallway floor, turning the necklace over in your hands until your legs go numb.

Then you put it back in the box and tuck it in the drawer by your bed.

You don’t wear it, but you decided to keep it.

And the next day, for the first time in months, you catch yourself wondering how he’s doing. Like maybe he’s not just doing this to win, maybe he means it.

Still, you don’t reach out.

Not yet...

Five months.

He finally knocks.

It’s late. Not obscenely so, but enough that you’re in sweats and no bra, and part of you is tempted to pretend you’re not home.

But something in you says open the door.

So you do.

Simon looks like hell. Wet from rain, hair flat to his skull, hands shoved into his jacket like he’s trying to keep himself from reaching for you.

“I wrote it down,” he says, holding out a thick envelope. “Everything I wanted to say. Everything I should’ve said before.”

You stare at it like it might burn you. “Why now?”

His throat bobs. “Because I thought giving you space would be enough. But space doesn’t mean silence. It doesn’t mean I stop showing you I care. I just... I didn’t know how to love you the way you deserved.”

“And now you do?” you ask, arching a brow.

“No,” he says. “But I’m learning. And I’ll keep learning, with or without a second chance.”

You take the envelope. You don’t invite him in. But you do say, “Good night, Simon,” soft and tired.

And he smiles, just barely.

You read the letter that night. You weren’t going to, but you do.

It’s messy. Honest. Full of crossed-out lines and little notes scribbled in the margins. He writes like he talks—short sentences, straight to the point—but you can feel how badly he wants you to understand.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel disposable. That’s not what you are. That’s not what you ever were.”

“I never knew how to show you I gave a fuck. That’s on me.”

“I kept thinking if I didn’t say anything, you wouldn’t expect anything. But you did. And I should’ve met you there.”

“I think about your laugh. I hear it sometimes when I’m dead tired. It makes me hate myself.”

“I’m not asking you to come back. But if you ever do, I swear I’ll never leave you wondering again.”

You fall asleep with the letter in your hands, crumpled a little at the edges.

You don’t message him the next day.

But the next week?

You text one word.

“Coffee?”

PART 3

-----------------------------------------------

do we still hate him guys??

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay

[tonycries]

“She My Best Friend, Yeah We Not a Couple.”

Synopsis. You know it’s wrong to fuck your best friend. But how can you complain when you’re slammed against the library desk and stuffed full of his big cock like this?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, panties in your mouth (+ some other very heinous things), really fucking dirty, public sex, jealous sex (from his side), pet names (my angel), swearing.

Word count. 1.3k

A/N. My ancestors are prolly so proud of me rn. Art by @_3em on X.

“Best friend” his ass. 

It’s laughable really - the way those other losers think they have a chance with you when you’re begging for his dick every night. 

He’s known you since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - and right now he’s got you sitting prettily on his lap in a study room tucked on the campus library. Your needy mewls are muffled into the crook of his neck as he holds you steady by your hips, the length of his achingly hard cock nudging the line of your ass. 

Panties hastily pulled to the side, your slick pools on his flushed tip, dripping along his length to his tight balls. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your racing pulse, he drags his hefty erection teasingly along your dripping folds. 

God, he could feel the way your pussy was clenching desperately around nothing and it was driving him insane. 

Surely that study buddy of yours could wait a few minutes. Who did that scrub even think he was? Eyeing his pretty lil’ best friend like that.

“Hngh- please, I want-.” you whisper into his ear, the heat of your breath sending blood rushing straight to his already rock-hard cock. Your needy whimpers are cut off as he subconsciously thrusts in-between your swollen folds, juices making the prominent veins along his length glisten.

Fuck, this was getting too much for him too. 

“Tell me what you want, my angel.” he leans down to murmur raspily in your ear, sending a trail of goosebumps down your spine. You were so fucking hot. 

That scrub couldn’t even imagine this. How perfect you were. How wet you were for him. How lustful your voice is as you sinfully whine, “I want your cock in me so badly. Want you to fuck me right here. Right now.”

With lightning speed, he’s got you bent against the cold surface of the library desk, painfully hard cock throbbing under the thin material of your panties. You gasp as his length grinds against your quivering cunt.

Having you splayed out so sinfully for him, he’s never been more thankful that the old librarian was such a heavy sleeper - probably wouldn’t wake up for a stampede of elephants if it happened. 

“This shit is getting in my fucking way.” he groans out as a large hand grabs your soaked panties. 

A sharp rip! of fabric sounds throughout the still air of the study room. “Much better.” he grins dangerously, harshly groping every inch of skin now laid completely bare for him.

“Please. Put it in.” you mewl, voice dripping with need for him. Fuck, he’ll never get used to this. 

“Shhh, my angel.” with a low hiss, he bullies his thick cock into your dripping cunt.

“God. S’tight, so tight. Pussy so desperate for me hah- sucking me back in. She doesn’t want me to leave, huh?” he grits out through strangled moans as he sheaths himself completely into your wet pussy. Shit, at this point they’ll hear him and not you.

Warm walls squeezing him to insanity, he fucks you at a feral pace, pulling out till his tip teases your dripping entrance, only to ram himself fully inside once more. 

“Ah! Hngh- It’s too much. Please!” 

He would never get to know the feeling of your snug cunt desperately sucking his cock back in every time he rams into you. He would never get to feel the way your walls clamp down on him, struggling to adjust to the burning stretch of his thick cock. He could never make you feel this good.

That loser probably has a small dick anyway.

He drinks in the pornographic ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth at each harsh thrust, feeling intoxicated off the animalistic cadence of his hips, and the thick white ring of slick forming at his base. 

“Shit. Always so good f’me, my angel.” he groans, your pretty moans only making him thrust impossibly deeper in a way that has you scrambling to hold onto the table for support. 

His throaty groans and the merciless slapping of his heavy balls against your ass echoes across the room as his fingers dig deep purple marks into your hips.

“S-someone’s gonna hah- hear-” 

“Then we must be quiet, hm?”

Before you have a chance to process what’s happening, the wet panties that were tightly gripped in his hand are now stuffed into your mouth. You moan around the large fingers forcing themselves inside, cold rings stretching your mouth as much as your cunt.

His cock twitches as he forces you to taste yourself, feeling you getting impossibly wetter. That’s his girl. 

He could never fuck you like this. 

Moans now muffled by the fabric in your mouth, his saliva-coated fingers move down to draw rough circles on your clit - making you yelp at the stimulation. 

He knows someone could walk in at any moment - and a part of him actually wants it to happen. Let them see, he thinks. At least then those fuckers would finally take a hint.

A soft whine of his name snaps him out of his pussy-drunk thoughts, blown-out eyes now meeting your dazed ones as you lock eyes with him over your shoulder. Lipstick smeared, tears clinging to your lashes, and panties half-hanging out of your kiss-bitten lips.

Ah, actually scratch that - he’s gonna keep his pretty lil’ best friend all to himself.

“Shhh, my angel. I’ve got you.” he towers over you, pressing a trail of kisses up the curve of your spine before angling your neck to attach his lips with yours. He delights in your surprised squeal, clearly not expecting him to kiss you with your panties still in your mouth. But for you, he’d do anything.

Cock twitching, your feet almost lift off the ground as the rhythm of his hips gets harsher. He intertwines his tongue with yours, sweet slick-soaked panties wrapped in the middle. Fuck, he was going insane at the contrast of your soft tongue with the lacy fabric of your panties, hand around your neck getting tighter.

You moan incoherently as he sucks on your tongue, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth and onto the polished library desk. 

It was so fucking lewd. Doesn’t matter how many losers swarm around you - none of them deserved you. None of them could fuck you like this.

Your sounds of pleasure get more and more frantic as his cock still slams inside you relentlessly, ringed-fingers continuing their abuse on your clit - getting closer and closer to what you crave.

He can feel the way your walls flutter so snugly around him. God, he’s so fucking turned on that he doesn’t know whether the heartbeat he feels between his legs is his or yours.

Neither of you have to wait long. His tongue still continues its dance with yours, around your soaked panties, as you both cum with a muffled moan. 

Your pussy clenches around him as you climax him as if to milk his cock for all he’s worth. And you do, thick ropes of his hot cum painting your pulsing hole white. 

Riding out both your highs, he fucks his cum into you animalistically - feet lifting off the floor at his firm grip on your waist and the sheer power of his rough thrusts.

So messy. Damn, he has to send the librarian an apology gift later - a fruit basket or something, he wonders, barely lucidly. 

His mind is still foggy as he pulls his sensitive cock out, and pockets your panties for a lonely night without his dear best friend. Promptly plugging his fingers in your quivering pussy, cum smearing on his fingers, he mutters out a quick “Keep it inside.”

Walking out of the heavy, sex-filled atmosphere of the study room, he bumps into that fucking study buddy of yours - running late and clearly surprised to see him there.

With a slow smirk, “Sorry in advance, my girl made a bit of a mess in there. Hope you don’t mind.”

Hey, this is what best friends are for, right?

- GOJO, GETO, Choso, Tsukishima, ATSUMU, SUNA, Oikawa, Kuroo, EREN, Armin

A/N. Teehee *blushes like a slut*

Longfic Sunday incoming if I manage to write 6k words by tomorrow.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[cathnospam]

Ever since Deku seen you and Bakugo have sex 3 days ago that night he haven’t been able to stare at neither of you the same.

He haven’t been this jittery and defensive since he thought shoto knew about the truth of his quirk all those years ago.

Everyday during a lecture he sits a row behind you and Bakugo and all he could do is stare and noticing the small interactions you both do,

like how Bakugo lends you his pen without word, how you casually steal his water bottle to sip on, how he leans over to make an incoherent comment causing you to giggle and playfully push him,

did he whisper something sexual to you?

Deku’s mind was racing an hour a minute, he felt his freckled tan cheeks get hot when you would approach him with your doting smile to talk.

All he can see is your face when you cum from getting head.

Or when you laugh/yawn, around him his eyes target on you.

All he can hear were you moans when Bakugo slips his dick inside you. You sound so different, and cuter.

Bakugo isn’t free from Deku’s stares either, he’s a straight guy, but he is confident in his masculinity to know Bakugo is a good looking guy and he gets embarrassed seeing the vast difference between him alone with you vs in public.

Was he always like this?

The way how his eyebrows are always furrowed, even though he’s not mad.

But they’re relaxed and content when he’s laid with you, inside you.

The way how his raspy deep voice pretty much gravels when he speaks.

But it’s softer when he speaks with you.

Everything pretty much changed in his mind about you both to the point he started to add more notes about you two in his notebook.

“Y/N: Her weak spot is on her ear. She’s very clingy—-

Bakugo: Weak spot on his neck. Curses more than usual when he’s close—-“

It’s shameful, but he can’t really help himself. He swears he’ll tell you one day, but he is 95% sure Bakugo will find out and risk being the #50 ranked hero to kill him.

Especially if he found out since then he past by your door every late night to hear you both again.

Deku has been trying to avoid you since, but he’s your best friend and you have no issue figuring it out if there was something wrong with your best friend.

“Hey, Zuzu…can we talk?”

You see his eyes practically pop out of his head to your touch on his shoulder, “Y-yes! What’s up?”

You pull him to the side by the bench, “You okay? You been ignoring my text the past few days. I missed my gaming buddy.” You playfully shove his shoulder to get a chuckle out of him, but all he could do was pull out an awkward one, “You okay?”

He couldn’t tell you. Not now, he couldn’t let you know he watched you get fucked, he couldn’t tell you how turned on it made him, and he definitely could not tell you how he got off to it.

As pretty and innocent as your eyes looked right now, in the back of Deku’s mind he knew, he knew EXACTLY what you really were.

His adam’s apple bobs up and down, trying to examine your face for a moment he notices the mark on your neck, “Did you hurt yourself?”

When he points to your bruise you jump, “Dammit ‘Suki.”

“Oh, yes! I ran into a pole the other day sparring. I’m okay.”

Liar. Dirty little liar.

“Well I’m fine I just…been a little distracted.”

“Oh?” You were giggly to know the tea with your bestie, “Girl trouble?”

“What?”

“You and Ochaco. I know you both are close….having a hard time trynna ask her out?”

“N-no! Nothing like that we’re …okay . I haven’t properly asked her out even though we—-not important I was just—“

“Yo.”

For some reason Bakugo’s rugged voice made Izuku freeze in his sentence, as if the air got sucked out of his own throat.

“Here. For yesterday. Now I don’t owe you again.”

A wad of cash was placed in your hand, you jokingly fan it and smile, “well well well, looks like I’m 7,300 yen richer. Thank you.”

“Tch.” He scoffs and readjust his eyes at Deku while you put your money in your wallet, “Also, Aizawa said we have work study together, Deku. Tomorrow at 10am don’t be late and make me look bad.”

“Y-yeah. Got it.”

Bakugo noticed his cheeks blushing, it ticked him off a little seeing as he knew Deku knew about the assignment with him, and he could’ve easily zelle’d you the money back he owed you it’s just—-

He felt a little bit of jealously when he seen how close you were sitting beside Izuku.

He trusts you both completely, he knew Deku wasn’t into you and he knew you weren’t into Deku, many nights were spent between you both explaining that, and his excuse to approach you both was silly, but he couldn’t help it.

Your Blondie stared at you one last time, kind of similar to a warning glare and walked off, “He’s so silly. Anyway. What were you saying?”

“Uh….nothing actually, but maybe this weekend we can go to the arcade or something?”

“Of course, yeah totally. Just making sure you’re okay.”

After practically running off the rest of the day went by quick, he spent it in his room, pacing, writing, pacing and writing, all the way until 11pm. That’s when he heard the small patter of footsteps next door.

When Deku creaked open his door his heart began to race, there you were, in your little silk night down being pulled into Bakugo’s room. Once his door clicks his feet moved before his thoughts did and he tip toed to it, leaning his ear beside the door, he could just barely hear what you two were talking about.

“You make me jealous on purpose don’t you?”

“No, you make yourself jealous, ‘Suki, you know I only want you—-aaahh!”

Once he heard your pretty noises again he immediately ran to his room to shut the door, in a rush he quickly took down the framed posters above his bed to listen in closely against the wall, it seemed he heard you both a little more clearly now.

It wasn’t long until he began to hear your moans and whispers of Katsuki’s name, a couple comments stating he had to be up early turned into almost an hour of his headboard tapping against the wall. If he pressed his ear hard enough he was able to hear the sloshing wet paps of him fucking you.

Deku tried to imagine the position you both were in, doggy? missionary? to the side again, maybe you were on top he did hear Bakugo make a few strained noises and curses.

He felt guilty imagining it was him instead. His fist right back in his sweats like it was a few days ago, using his imagination to picture your breast bouncing inside his mouth while he suckles as you use him.

It’s wrong he knows, but everybody has their guilty pleasures though, right?

[gay-dorito-dust]

How’d they react to you calling them bro or dude whilst in a pre-established relationship…(platonic/romantic)

Dick: he’s insulted.

Gutted.

He will try to give you the silent treatment for such a shameful thing but ultimately fails as he ends up being the one pawing at you for attention.

‘Do you still like me? Or did you just run out of cute nicknames to call me?’ He’d say one night as your both cuddling in bed together. ‘If it’s the later then I can help you find something, just please spare me and don’t call me dude or bro anymore.’

He’d rather you call him Richard-wait, no he hates that even more because to him you’re not meant to use his fully name, only cutesy nicknames that’d make a grown man sick to his stomach. Nothing else would suffice other than Dickie bird, handsome, babe, hunk, honeybun or anything that wasn’t his name.

He’s go mad or would act delusional and say that everything was fine when everyone could tell that it wasn’t. People who know him have personally came to you and begged you to stop calling him dude/bro because he kept talking their ears off about how his beloved partner is torturing him, which ends up torturing them even more upon hearing about his relationship issues.

Dick would even consult Hayley on what he did wrong, only for Hayley to look at him with those big, big eyes of hers. This was not her level of expertise unfortunately. (Head empty, no thoughts. She can’t do her abc’s guys it’s a real tragedy.)

Jason: ‘I just had my tongue down your throat just now and you had to go and ruin the mood by calling me bro. What the fuck.’ - Jason at some point.

It’s a whole mood killer for him to be honest.

He’s calling you things like chipmunk or sweetheart but here you were calling him dude and bro. He knows for a fact that he’s well and truly out of the friend zone because the shit you’ve done together isn’t platonic in any sort of way.

Thinks Roy had set you up to call him dude or bro behind his back. (He hasn’t)

Jason is petty and will get his own back by referring you as ‘just a really good friend’, ‘buddy o’ mine’ or even worse than both of those; ‘chum.’ 💀

When you go low, Jason was more then willing to go to the depths of fucking hell to the point it had become a game to see who’d call out just how stupid this all was, and at the both of you for ever thinking that this was an excellent idea in the first place.

You’ll probs get punished…I’m just going to leave it there and let your minds guess what that ‘punishment’ was exactly.

Damian:

As much as Damian hates it when you call him Dami, he hates it when you call him dude or bro even more, if that’s even possible.

Damian hates it when you call him dude or bro. He’s not your dude or bro, he’s your partner and he expects no less then darling, my heart or my beloved.

So you calling him dude or bro is more than enough reason for him to give you the silent treatment.

‘Until you learn that I am your partner, I won’t want to be anywhere near you if you’re going to keep calling me your bro or dude. It is a disservice to who I actually am to you.’ He says with a huff and beckons Titus to follow, only for the Great Dane to be left confused as to why his human parents were at a disagreement over something silly.

Also Titus, Ace, Jerry, Alfred the cat, Goliath and BatCow are children of divorce because I said so.

So it’s bests that you apologise while you still can because Damian can hold a grudge unlike any other. Even if you didn’t, you’d still crack first before Damian and quickly put an end to calling him dude/bro.

He just thinks being called a dude/bro when in a pre-established relationship is an insult.

He can take a joke but not when it’s aimed at his relationship. He’s well and truly devoted to his relationship -if we’re to completely ignore the whole being Robin thing- that it might as well be an insult towards him too at this point.