#how do people make their floating doodle pages look good

[birrdies]

a completely nonsensical collection of life series character doodles

[corriethosaurus]

I came across the most beautiful werewolf art the other day. Gosh the designs were perfect. Not just slapping wolf heads on human bodies (weird thing to be picky about but I am) they looked more natural, somewhere legitimately between man and wolf and some even more bear like, it was so good. Sweet painterly style. Then I noticed some of the fingers were weird. “Wait, why does that one have a second jaw floating off it?” Took a look at the comments and the original page.

……..it was AI generated.

I was so genuinely pissed off to have been fooled for even a moment that I slapped on some angry music and made my own werewolf art.

Was inspired by sloth bears for some of the design and coloring as well (particularly the snarl and the blue tint of its fur!). Took the head from a doodle I did in a collaborative whiteboard with some friends a little while ago. Timelapse below if you like seeing that sort of thing (FLASH WARNING, I’m not sure how bad it is but I figure it’s worth the warning anyway). You can see me try something new, fail miserably then go back to my comfort zone lmao.

I BEG OF YOU, if you’re an artist of any kind, writing, drawing, whatever it is that people are trying to get AI to do for us, PLEASE don’t stop creating because “AI can do it better” IT CAN’T.

It can’t make what you can with the vision you have, nothing and no one can. I’ve already had to convince another artist not to stop creating because of AI.

DON’T STOP CREATING. PLEASE.

Art is so important, I don’t want to think about all the potential artists we may have lost already because of the rise of AI “art”.

[6okuto]

— jjk campus crushes

gn!reader | itadori, megumi, yuuta, gojo

note from nia: yes gojo's is inspired by me getting stuck in the middle of a packed train and stumbling into people. Good God. i Wish i fell onto gojo. humiliation

ITADORI stares dumbfounded at the board while the professor speaks, not taking in a single word. he leans back into his seat and begins to contemplate either 1) dropping this class for next year or 2) completely changing majors. but his eyes glance over to the person next to him, easily taking notes and managing to go on their phone in between. that’s when you feel a poke at your shoulder and turn around. he offers an almost embarrassed smile before whispering, “hey, sorry, do you understand what’s going on right now?” you lift a brow and nod, albeit confused. yuuji’s eyes light up and he scoots closer. “awesome! d’you think you could uh…teach me? after class? or—or whenever you’re free? i kinda need this class for my major and…” he trails off and points at his basically empty page. “i think i’m screwed.” your lips twitch at the doodle of him(?) with question marks floating above his head, but you manage to stop yourself from smiling, feeling bad enough for the guy. you nod again before taking his notebook and placing it on top of yours. yuuji watches as you write something down and pass it back to him. “it’s uh, my handle and number. whichever works better for you.” his eyes scan your writing and he grins—if it weren’t for the fact you were basically a stranger, he would have hugged you. “thanks! i’m yuuji by the way. what’s your name?”

MEGUMI’s grip tightens around his umbrella handle as he pulls his hood further over his head. he thinks it’s just his luck to get stuck out in the rain on his way to class and sighs. but before he can feel any worse for himself, he hears someone walking quickly from behind him. he moves over to make space, blinking when he notices they’re walking with only their hands over their head. “um, excuse me,” he calls out. you freeze and turn around to the boy who was very obviously more prepared for the weather than you. “yes?” “did you want…to walk together?” megumi feels his face flush a little as you blink at him and he clears his throat. “my umbrella’s big enough, and it seems like we’re headed the same way, so…” there’s a beat of silence as you continue to stare at him—you’re not sure what kind of prank the universe is playing to get you drenched then have a cute guy offer to walk with you, but you don’t think you’re in any place to complain. “yeah, sure, if you don’t mind,” you reply. megumi finally lets himself breathe and he catches up to you, making sure you were covered. “thank you,” you pause and look at him. it’s his turn to blink before offering a polite smile. “megumi. and don’t worry about it.”

YUUTA tries his best not to rely on caffeine to get through the day, but he’s more tired than usual when he wakes up, which is how he finds himself in line at the nearest starbucks to his class. he overhears the cashier say your total and starts to recite his own order in his head in preparation. “yeah, um…” your hands pause inside your pockets and you whisper, “oh my god.” you sigh and yuuta watches as your shoulders drop.  “i’m sorry, i don’t have my wallet,” you explain with a forced laugh. “you can—can you just cancel my order? sorry.” “i can pay for you,” yuuta speaks up before stepping forward. you stumble over your words as he turns to you with a smile before taking out his card. “i’ll pay for them. and, and for me, actually—” he quickly adds on his own order, and you watch as he taps his card against the machine. the both of you step aside for the next person to order and you fiddle with your fingers as you look at him. “you didn’t have to…” yuuta only shakes his head and waves his hands. “no, it’s fine! you probably need the energy if you’re here this early.” you let out a breath and smile at him. “thank you, really. i, um, promise i’ll pay for your order if you ever forget your wallet.” the both of you realize that'd be unlikely, but maybe it's the thought that counts. yuuta snorts before covering his mouth and laughing a little quieter. you laugh at his reaction, too, and his face warms at the sound. it makes him feel a little bolder—“do you wanna exchange numbers so i could hold you to that, then?”

GOJO watches as the train fills with more people and scoots himself into the corner. it’s to be expected when it’s the best timed for everyone’s 11am classes. he’s lucky, you think, as you step on and realize you’re stuck in the middle with nothing to hold onto. you try to balance yourself as best as you can, but there’s a turn that happens a little too quickly. you lose your footing, stumbling into the man behind you. “woah there,” he says, stopping you from hitting the door. “god, sorry—” you apologize, your face flushed as you look at him. “nah, don’t worry about it. you okay?” you nod and stand up properly again, widening your stance just a little. “yeah, sorry. i just have shitty balance, i guess,” you awkwardly laugh. gojo hums and tilts his head. “d’you wanna switch spots with me? promise i won’t smush you.” your mind is quickly filled with thoughts of how embarrassing it is for him to have to offer. but it’s probably more embarrassing how you stare with your mouth open to respond, realizing how attractive the guy in front of you actually is. he smiles at you, and you wonder if he can read your mind before you push yourself to reply. “are you sure?” gojo grins as he steps aside and bows a little. “it’d be my honour.” so you find yourself in the corner, your eyes flickering between out the window and to him. his voice startles you when he suddenly speaks, “so, what class are you going to, and would you mind if we walked together?”

[snailsdraw]

[Start ID: 6 pages of HLVRAI narrative doodles following Tommy and Darnold's interaction at Chuck E Cheese after Black Mesa. Warning for stuttering (in case that sets anyone off).

Tommy is hugging Sunkist when he spots Darnold, who'd rounded the corner and was watching them, quietly. Darnold is surpised when Tommy asks: "Uhh...Darnold? Would you maybe like to pet him?" while gesturing to Sunkist, the huge dog wearing a goofy blank look of happiness and a party hat to top it off.

Darnold replies: "Oh, uhhh, sure! Let me just..." Sunkist follows his movement as he crouches down, turning his body to a 45 degree angle to not seem confrontational. "Alright," he says, taking off one glove and holding his ungloved hand by his body for Sunkist to approach and sniff, before continuing, "Okay. Sunkist, if you'd like to approach me, I believe you may do so now."

Sunkist gets up immediately, plodding over to sniff Darnold's offered hand. Sunkist's tail begins to wag, which Darnold notes, saying: "Hmm... that's a good sign." Tommy goes: "Oh!"

Darnold scratches Sunkist on the shoulder: "Hey there, doggy!" Bubbles of green sweet voice float out of Sunkist's mouth. Tommy watches in astonishment: "Oh! Darnold, do YOU have a pet dog? You knew how to meet- to approach him so well! Most people just shove their hands in his face." Darnold says: "Aw, no. I mean, I thought about it, but I didn't think I'd have time for a pet." Darnold has removed his other glove as to not rub chemicals into Sunkist's fur, and Sunkist lifts his head as he begins to scratch under the dog's chin. With his nose in the air, Sunkist smells something odd.

"That was just from my research, in case I, uh, encountered a dog and didn't wanna get bit." Darnold continues, waving it off. "But...y'know what? Maybe I am ready for a change." Sunkist, who'd still been sniffing the air, has seemingly found the source hidden in the tied-up sleeve of Darnold's second labcoat. Darnold looks up in reminiscence, smiling slightly and unaware: "I wasn't very experienced with animal-handling before, just the lab mice y'see, but then I met Sasha and...and..." Darnold is suddenly very aware of Sunkist nosing around behind him.

He gets up immediately and sprints off, holding onto the back of his second labcoat: "P-pardon me, I have to excuse myself-" Tommy is left confused, and he turns to Sunkist, who looks back with innocent eyes. "Maybe that was too soon..." Tommy says to him. He hadn't meant to bring up pets and make Darnold upset after having left his Gubb companion back at the facility. Sunkist picks up the gloves Darnold had left behind in his haste with his mouth and brings them to Tommy. Tommy goes to take them from him, saying: "...No...you're right, Sunkist. I'll go, uh, I'll make it right." /End ID.]

Previous story parts found here: [Part 1.][Part 2.][Part 3.][Part 4.][Part 5.][Part 6.][Part 7.][Part 8.][Part 9.][Part 10.][Part 11.][Part 12.]

And the finale begins!

[elissespieces]

Okay.

Not to sound old, but-

I have been doing Sailormoon fanart for A Long Time™️ (and to save my sanity here- I’m speaking in internet years)

I’m a Chibimoon fan, and it has never been a popular hill to die on. People hate her, and I don’t care. I get Rini yelled in my face, and I. Do. Not. Care.

But back when I did- I had a 100% wholesome chibimoon dedicated webpage that I html coded myself (in friggen notes) and uploaded to a free FORTUNECITY site. There I displayed a wide variety of chibimoon fanart, mostly mine, but also gathered from other artists I had been desperately hoarding. All of it had been dug for over time (Netscaaaape), then the artists sought out to ask for permission to post, collected into a gallery where I made clickable thumbnails, and finally uploaded it through an ftp-

Dude- There was work involved y’all. This was pre-Pinterest, pre-Instagram, pre anything that posted photos for.

And the webpage was terrible, I can admit that, it’s fine. There was flashy fake glitter stuff, I had a guestbook and counter. Bad art made into page links, irrelevant song and poetry quotes. (But I did not have a midi play!) Most of what I was drawing back then was a weird mishmash of tracing the anime and learning anatomy, so it ain’t great, but everyone starts somewhere.

Still-

There was a lot of it. A LOT. And there still is! I’ve never stopped making it. I still draw sailor moon art all the damn time. It’s my therapy when I’m art blocked, it’s my doodles. I still upload stuff to random places (depending on what lets me) to this day.

I’ve been doing this for 20 years.

My art names have changed, but not drastically, and while thankfully improving, the art style itself isn’t all that different. I’ve been told I’m easy to spot. So yknow what I don’t get??

It’s nowhere. The art isn’t floating around online, I can’t find any of it.

I should be so embarrassed by it. It should be an absolute pain, running facefirst into that awful shit- and with so much regret. I taught myself enough html to do the absolutely ridiculous coordinates of an image map (omg the numbers) but- but it’s not anywhere!

When I haven’t looked at my old crap in awhile, sure, I’m relieved at this fact. Cause yikes (and I still have it stored, it’s good to know how dare I’ve come).

But after days of cruising through 3 hours of really, really awful sailor moon art (yes I do this), I’m kinda, mildly insulted because I should be one of those. I should be standing accounted amongst those who are shamed!

I recognize so many of the old artists that I once knew, and most of them have been plagiarized to death on overseas websites because they aren’t really around anymore. If anyone else was around at that time and into Sailor Moon, I had a very pink and very goofy ‘Child of the Crystal World’ website. It was all I knew about my Pink fucking Princess on about thirty separate page clicks.

So- best guess is- either someone is following behind me and cleaning up my online fingerprint- or (most likely) Im feeling ignored and entitled from years worth of effort and it’s gurgling back up like a clogged, invalidating garbage disposal of paint and crayons.

[sataniquepanique]

Painkiller - Part One

Hi! I'm a long time lurker of fanfics, but a first time writer! Like the rest of you, I have fallen hopelessly in love with Eddie Munson. He also reminds me of not only myself in high school, but a lot of the people I knew. The freaks, the outcasts. I started this fic with my own high school experiences in mind, so those themes are sprinkled throughout. This will be a multi-part piece, with a lot written already. If it gets enough interest, I'll keep posting! Please be nice, I'm new!

~~~

Summary: You move to Hawkins during your Senior Year, trying to keep your head down and just graduate. You meet Eddie Munson, who tries to help you adjust to life in Hawkins. You're apprehensive but end up falling for him, only to be roped up in some drama when Eddie goes on the run.

Genre: slow burn, angst.

Warnings: cursing, general angst.

Word Count: 1.1k+

~~~

Part One: Cherry Bomb

“This is so fucking ridiculous…” you think to yourself as you walk into the lunchroom. It’s 11:40am, the time you’ve been dreading all day: lunch. High school is hard enough, but moving to a new town for your senior year? That’s pure, sadistic torture. In your head you replay the moment your parents broke the news to you a few weeks ago, 

“You can’t be fucking serious” you said as you deadpan over to your mom’s face. “Watch your mouth…” your dad cautions as he shoots you a glance from across the dinner table. You laugh incredulously, “Mom. I’m starting senior year. All of my friends are here! Why are you doing this to me?” You plead with her, as your eyes start to well with tears. Your dad had gotten a new job in Indiana, some hick town called Hawkins. He couldn’t pass up the offer, so he was forcing the entire family to move halfway across the country from the East Coast. Your mom sighed and looked down at the table as you slammed your chair back and went to your room. There was no stopping this move no matter how hard you tried.

You scan the lunchroom for an empty chair, something preferably away from others. You aren’t very good at talking to new people, and mostly chose to keep to yourself. At your old school, you had a small group of friends who were like you: into art and horror movies and punk music. The lot of you didn’t fit in with any other social clique, but somehow found each other. “Remember…” you think to yourself, “…you’re just here to get through one year and graduate. You’re not here to make friends.” Finally you see it, a seat at the very back at the last empty table. You make a beeline for it, and quickly throw your backpack onto the table and sit down, pulling out your sketchbook and a pencil. You put on your headphones that have been hanging around your neck for the majority of the morning, and escape into Joan Jett’s familiar voice. Art has always been your thing, ever since you were little you were always doodling or sketching something on any blank surface you could find. Your mom had bought you a new sketchbook before the big move, in the hopes that it would stop you from drawing on your arms. Todays project was a space-scape, with a lone figure floating through the abyss. The nothingness of space mirrored your attitude towards this new town. Nothing. You felt nothing. 

Suddenly, your sketchbook is ripped out from under your hand, causing you to accidentally draw a huge dark pencil scratch down the center of the page. “What the fuck dude!” you slam down the pause button on your walkman and look up and see a tall, blonde, smug looking basketball player holding your sketchbook and thumbing through the pages. “Check this out guys, we have a new resident weirdo!” He exclaims as he turns his head to laugh with the rest of his jock friends at the next table over. You remember him from your history class earlier, Jason is his name maybe? He wouldn’t stop ogling the cheerleader that sat in front of you in that class. “Can I please have that back? I wasn’t bothering anyone.” You say quietly, tucking a loose strand of dark auburn hair behind your ear. “Not until I’m done looking at your masterpieces.” Jason smirked, still tearing through the pages. You feel your eyes start to burn, and you try your best to not start crying. “HEY JASON!” You hear a voice boom from across the lunchroom. You look up startled to see a kid you remember from your math class, standing on a lunch table with his fists clenched. His name was Eddie, and you only remember him because he had leaned over in class to ask you for a pen. Not because he needed it to take notes, but because he wanted to etch Slayer into the desk. “Leave her alone, man.” He says more calmly than his previous outburst. “Or what? You want something, freak?” Jason yelled back, tossing the sketchbook back onto your lunch table and clenching his fists. Eddie put his hands up next to his head and stuck his fingers up, mimicking horns, while sticking his tongue out at Jason. You giggled at him, and he shot you a quick wink. One of the other kids at the jock table came up to Jason and grabbed his shoulder, “C’mon man, it’s not worth it.” Jason shot Eddie and you one last piercing glance and went back to his seat. 

Eddie hopped down from his lunch table and slid into the seat next to you. “Hey, sorry about that, he’s a total dickhead. Do you want to come sit with us?” He motioned over to his table, a bunch of misfits wearing the same lame shirt with “Hellfire Club” emblazoned on the front. “No thanks, I’m good.” You said nonchalantly, not even looking at him while you put your sketchbook away. “Oh…uh, my name’s Eddie by the way” he stammered, obviously trying to keep a conversation going with you. “I know” you said matter of factly “you borrowed my pen in math earlier, I’d like that back by the way.” “Oh shit! That was you!” His eyes widened as he remembered. “I saw you drawing in class, you’re pretty talented.” You shot him a look, unsure if he was making fun of you or being sincere. “Listen, we have a club that meets on Tuesdays, Hellfire Club. We play DnD, and tonight is the culmination of a months-long campaign but we’re down a member. Would you want to join? I feel like you might be into it…” he trailed off. “….why? Cause I’m a freak like you guys?” You say, meaner than you had intended. Eddie smiled, the same devilish grin he had used on Jason moments prior, “Precisely.” You threw your bag over your shoulder and made your way towards the door, Eddie following behind. You stop in front of the Hellfire lunch table. “I’ll think about it.” You say, glancing over at the rest of his group, all of which were staring at you. You throw your headphones back on and hit play, blasting Cherry Bomb into your brain. You turned around before Eddie could respond, and made your way out of the lunchroom. 

“Eddie, you seriously didn’t just invite your new girlfriend to Hellfire did you?” Dustin groaned. “Shut up.” Eddie snapped, shooting daggers at him through his eyes. “She’s not my girlfriend. Not yet, anyway.”

[8bitscarlet]

Witchcraft

Summary: You've found yourself falling deeper into a certain witch's spell. But no matter how strong the magic is, it seems that the two of you just keep missing each other.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Angst/Fluff (minor cussing)

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is a fic for @marvelxreaderfanfictionfest writing exchange. This one is for @mrsromanoff and the prompt: "I can't keep kissing strangers and thinking they're you." Hope you like it!

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours.*

________________

You never thought your three month assignment with the Avengers would've extended as long as it has. Missions went by with minimal injuries and maximum wins. You found yourself settling well into the chaos of the compound; the echoing boasts of Thor, the competitive edge of Danvers and the snark between Romanoff and Stark. When your three months were up, it wasn't a surprise to anyone that you immediately signed the contract from Stark, an official placement on the team.

Despite all of the alien blasters, Hydra experiments and Tony's benefit parties, nothing could've prepared you for a single person to rock your world. It started innocently enough; stolen glances at meals and ensuring you two were on the same mission team. As time continued, things turned less innocent; sneaking off during charity balls to suck face in the broom closet, you could recall a few times you were nearly caught in the back of the Quinjet. There was something about this woman. The way her fingers slithered through your hair, how those green eyes made your heart say yes, she stripped you bare.

You had convinced yourself it was witchcraft. It had to be.

Sitting with your cheek pressed against your fist, you find yourself doodling as Steve drones on in the background. Someone nudges you and as you turn, Wanda raises her brows when your eyes connect. With a groan, you raise the pen in your hand. Steve notices, stopping his spiel to look at you with a clenched jaw.

"With all due respect, Cap, we all got in at four this morning. Do we need a recap of the mission right now?"

Steve sighs, glancing at everyone and seeing them agreeing with you. You all had barely had time to unpack, let alone write your after action reports.

"Alright, Y/N. We'll go over how your pants tore mid-fight on Monday."

You point your pen at him, warning him as you watch his stupid smile fill his face. Bucky slaps your shoulders in gratitude, picking up Alpine onto his shoulders as he strides out to find Sam. Wanda's fingers gently brush yours as you walk side by side, sending an electric charge through your body.

"You know, when someone says 'with all due respect,' they really mean, 'kiss my ass'." Wanda glances at you with a sly smile.

Walking backwards towards the couch, you outstretch your arms with a grin, "Because that's what I meant, darling."

Chuckling, you roll over the back of the couch and plop down onto the cushions, your head landing perfectly on a pillow. Wanda lets out a scoff, knowing how many times it's taken you to actually land on the cushion and not the floor.

Flipping through the pages of her book, you watch her through half-closed eyes. A year ago you'd be asking what she was reading. A year ago, she'd curl up with you and explain it all. A year ago, you didn't have guilt eating at you.

Things a year ago were more than good between you. There might have even been a chance beyond friends with benefits. You knew you wanted that. Every time you looked at her, you couldn't stop your pounding heart or the warmth that grew in your stomach.

But you were stupid.

Chickening out every chance you had to ask her on an actual date rather than sneaking around to make her moan. You both had set ground rules, no strings attached. If it got too messy, you both had to call it quits. So, you convinced yourself it was better to quietly love her and keep her, than to tell the truth and lose her.

That was before the year long mission with Carol and Bucky. Before you realized how big of a mistake it was two months in. Before every day texts and video chats diminished to every other week, then every other month. Before you got back to the compound and saw her kissing up on some random benefactor at the Welcome Home Party. It was definitely before she started dating that walking toaster, Vision.

Luckily, he hadn't been around much the past month so watching them kiss and stare into each other's eyes was doable, mostly because you turned whenever you saw that stupid spark plug.

Four months since coming home, you've tried to fill the void the witch had created in your body, your soul. You went out with Carol and Bucky, prowling the town and the bar. Matching shot for shot some nights, waking up in random apartments other nights. Eventually Bucky did what you never did.

He asked Sam on a date and that left you and Carol. Until she started hooking up with Maria and dragged her along so you wouldn't be hitting the bars alone. You had made yourself a pity case.

"Do you need something?" Wanda cocks a brow at you, making a face at your prolonged staring.

You clear your throat, feeling the heat rush through your face, "You look a little sunburnt."

With a shrug and a chuckle, Wanda bookmarks her page as she places it down on the coffee table. Standing, she sits down on the couch, your body automatically scooting over to accommodate her. Holding out her red and glowing hand, you watch her pull off her rings, displaying the radiating tan lines running up and down her fingers. A laugh escapes you as you feel her hand slap against your chest.

"I didn't have anyone to put sunscreen on me!" She groans, "It burns!"

You guide your finger gently down her exposed arm, pressing in slightly to her warm skin. As you lift, you see the true color of her skin before it's bombarded with the glowing red of her burn. Glancing up, her green eyes watch you carefully, both of you not acknowledging the weight of her hand still on your chest.

"An aloe vera massage would do wonders," You whisper, "And I'm all out."

With a roll of her eyes, she leans back into your legs, "You really are a pain in my ass, y'know? When I tell people about you, that's the first thing I say."

Watching her float the remote to her awaiting hand, you grin, "Oho, so you're telling people about me, huh?"

"Please, check the ego there."

For the next moment, the two of you sit peacefully in each other's silence. Wanda was one who clung to those she trusted. When you came back, it was like she had superglued herself to you any time you walked into the room. It didn't help that you were still madly in love and she was taken.

Right now though, you watch her delicate fingers play with yours. Her eyes squinting with laughter as she watches her sitcoms, glancing to see if you're laughing as well.

A commercial echoes through the living room and Wanda lets out a sigh for attention, patting your thigh as she drops your hand. You don't move it as it lands atop her thigh, only gently stroke your thumb against the silky skin you wish could press against yours. Letting out a noise that you're both awake and paying attention to her, she glances over at you.

"Since you got Captain America to actually give us a free weekend, what's your plan tonight, casanova?"

You shrug, "I have early training with Bucky and-."

Wanda moves her whole body to face you, your hand slipping from her thigh as confusion spreads across her face. She lets out an unbelieving scoff,

"You're joking. You used to show up half drunk to training and still kick ass."

She's watching you carefully and you try to keep a neutral look on your face, she knows all of your quirks. Glancing up at her with a small grin, you pull your legs into you. Shifting yourself, you sit properly on the couch and run your hands through your hair.

"Just don't want to go out tonight. It's boring." You chuckle, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

Wanda rolls her eyes, "Why, no one catches your eye anymore?"

Another playful nudge and you sigh. All this playful teasing, these light touches. She has to know what she's doing.

Trying to keep a steady and nonchalant shrug, you shake your head,

"No one out there."

And you might've gotten away with it. Instead, you fell into the magnetic pull of those green eyes that cause you so much trouble. As your eyes land on hers, you can see the dilation within her pupils. Then the realization across her face. Her playful grin falls as she stares at you, blinking slowly.

"Y/N," She says slowly, "If you're doing what I think-."

You stand up quickly, your feet taking you to the other end of the coffee table. In two days you'll be gone and you'll be back in the place you hate being in right now. Placing your hands on your waist, you look up from your tapping foot.

"Wanda, I can't keep kissing strangers and thinking they're you."

Silence meets your face. You watch her as she slowly nods at you, "That's exactly what you're doing."

Groaning, she slides her fingers through her hair, pinning it from her face. Wanda lets out a careful breath before looking up at you, "What happened to no strings?"

Slapping your hands against your thighs in frustration, you let out a scornful chuckle, "Come on, Wanda. You know those rules were bullshit! No strings means not going on exclusive trips to museums and restaurants!" You watch her eyes flicker around the room, trying to find a way to disprove what you're saying. "It means not staying up all night when the other is sick!"

Wanda stands up quickly and you can see the look on her face, she knows what you're getting to. Waving her hand to get you to shut up, she tries to get to the stairs but your words blurt from your mouth,

"It means not falling in love!"

Her feet stop carrying her towards the stairs, her body frozen in the middle of the compound. Carefully, you step towards her, leaning ever so slightly to try and catch her eyes. They're glazed over from your confession, trying to understand the implications.

"I left. I..." You suck in a shaky breath, "I thought it would be easier if I wasn't here. You were so adamant about no strings, Wands. I broke the only rule, why would I stay?"

Her head jerks back at your words, her brows furrowing deeply down her face. Without another second to keep talking, Wanda's feet pivot as she shoots a finger into your face. You jerk away from her advance, seeing the growing mist within her eyes as she shouts,

"That's why you left?"

The crack in her voice sends one through your heart.

She turns quickly, her hands violently wiping at the tears that have broken free. You clench your brows. She's angry at you? You're the one who's had to watch her prance around with Vision, you just a memory of romance. Just before she can grab her bag and leave, you call out,

"Well, you seem to have fared better than me!"

As the words leave your lips, you bite down hard and shut your eyes. A surprised choke exits Wanda's throat as she throws her purse back onto the side table, knocking over the decorative bowl of rocks. They scatter across the ground but she doesn't notice, all of her rage is pointing at you. Her fingers run violently through her auburn hair, looking like she wants to rip it out.

"You are infuriating!" She jabs a fingers at you, "Why think that?! Because I'm dating Vision? He's filling a void, dumbass!"

Her words stab into you as her stomps draw nearer, you can feel the heat of her anger. She's not done, she's not letting you off easy.

"Every time he touches me, every time he kisses me. God, Y/N! All I can see is your dumb face."

Wanda's heavy breath washes over you as she finally stops her assault, so close you can see the blue in her green eyes. Her body radiates out to you and you have to force your hands into your pocket to not grab her and kiss her. Your eyes dip to her lips but you see sadness that has quickly replaced the facade of anger. Making a small fist, she slams it into your chest as her head bows. Her arm slides down your body, hanging limply at her side as she looks to you.

"Why didn't you talk to me?"

Wanda's fingers twitch forward, wanting to grab onto you. You sigh, taking your hands from your pockets and resting them on your waist. Your confession was supposed to be more romantic than this. Instead, you brought up issues you both were trying to ignore. You were angry now at yourself, taking it all out on the person you loved. You'd spent too long with all of this pent up emotion though, and it was all pouring out in waves.

"I have to finish my requisition forms. Get my gear ready."

You don't have to look up to know what face Wanda is making at you. It's the same face she had when you left the first time. The way her brows clenched together in disbelief, the pain behind her reddened eyes that threatened to spill more tears, how her chin trembled as she tried to breathe.

Her voice barely passes a whisper but standing so close, you hear every broken syllable, "You're leaving again."

You sigh, rubbing your throbbing temples as you feel your nose stuff up.

"You drop all of that on me and you're just going to turn around and leave?"

Shaking your head, you want this conversation to end. It's obvious where she is and it's not next to you.

"Don't you have a date or something?" You ask.

Wanda's been around you too long to not see exactly what you're doing. She lets out a chuckle, a lethal look in her eyes.

"No, you're right. And that date seems a hell of a lot better than this." Without another word, she snatches her purse from the table and starts to climb the stairs, leaving your feet frozen. Just as she reaches the middle of the staircase, she stops. You can feel her stare burning into you and as you look her way, you wish you hadn't.

"You're a coward."

Those words burn into your brain, rising through your ears and torture you for the rest of the day. The only thing you could think to do was slam your fists into the closest thing. The punching bags. People came and went, eyeing you try and punch away your frustrations to no avail. When the sun finally had sunk below the horizon, one Avenger had enough of your pity party.

"You know she's right." A voice comes from behind you.

You don't respond to them, just dodge the swaying bag. They walk into the room, stopping just inside of your peripheral.

"You're an idiot, you know."

With a chuckle, you sidestep the bag, "You need to be a little more specific."

"You're losing her again."

Another punch, "Uh huh."

Carol sighs next to you, "And you sent her away on her date."

"Yup."

She steps in front of the bag, stopping its movement and stares at you with determination in her eyes, "And you're not going after her?"

Avoiding her stare, you start to unwrap your hands, wiping at the sweat that pours down your face. Stopping, you can feel the cramp in your side and the throbbing of your knuckles. Chucking the wrap, you let out a shrug,

"Is there a point?"

Carol shoves the bag into you, grabbing your attention, "I am not going on another mission with you while you sulk. Do you know you talk in your sleep? Yeah. Guess what name I heard that whole year?"

You shake you head, licking your chapped lips as you search for water, "She didn't say it back."

You hear an exasperated chuckle from Carol, "Y'know Y/N, I'm going to go on a limb and say she wasn't expecting all of that to be thrown in her face."

Shooting her a glare, she keeps talking, "I'm saying this once. If you think this is going to be some cheesy Rom-Com where she bursts through those doors and confesses her love, you're more of an idiot than I thought." A finger jabs hard into your chest as you grimace, "You need to fix this."

Carol leaves you there with your head filled with more thoughts than before. Wanda was happy with Vision wasn't she? She hadn't talked about him much but you knew she had to be. Who were you to go and screw that up?

Night turned into morning and after staring up at your ceiling, you knew you weren't getting any sleep.

Sneaking down the stairs, you see everyone is still asleep. You take the opportunity to sit in more silence and wait for the coffee machine to finish steaming. The sun was just beginning to shine its red hues into the kitchen as you stood at the counter, twirling your empty mug. Lost in thought, you failed to hear the padding of feet coming down the stairs.

"I thought you had early training."

With a quiet chuckle, you lean into the counter, "You caught me."

In silence, you watch the witch pour in her coffee. The same amount of creamer and sugar every time, the same motions every morning since you've noticed her. Turning, she sees your mindless fingers twisting and turning your empty mug. Wanda raises her brows and holds out her hand,

"Refill?"

You hand over the mug and watch her work her magic on the black liquid, turning it into the caramel drink you love. Breathing in deeply, you watch the bubbles swirl around the liquid. You furrow your brows,

"I can never make mine taste-."

"We broke up."

Her words slam into you, your breath catching inside of your throat. Looking up, Wanda stands there in the middle of the kitchen, unsure if she had truly spoken or not. She looks up at you, her mouth closing as she realizes she doesn't know what she's doing.

"What? Wands, are you okay?" You start to stand to go and comfort her, you know they had a date yesterday. Did the son of a microwave hurt her?

Wanda's hand rises, stopping you in your tracks before she takes a quiet breath, "We broke up almost a month ago, Y/N."

Nodding at your obliviousness, you knock your knuckles against the counter as you press your lips into a thin line, "We're both liars then."

"Tell me you lied about the mission," She whispers, leaning into the counter. Her fingers laying gently across yours.

Your chest constricts as you sigh, "I didn't."

You watch her sullen nod, curling hair falling out of her messy bun as you gently graze your thumb across her knuckles. She quietly chuckles,

"We just missed each other."

Stopping your thumb, you clench your jaw. This isn't going to happen again.

"Wanda," You whisper, listening to the sad hum she gives you as she glances up with bloodshot eyes, "I'm sorry. I was scared and... I was an idiot."

Wanda pats your hand with a loud sniff, "I appreciate it, but-."

She doesn't continue. She doesn't want to believe that you're leaving. The love you feel wouldn't be strong enough to survive that time apart again. There's broken support beams and one thing will send it falling down. A far away mission isn't the nurturing this budding feeling needs.

Wanda tries her best to flash you a grin, "Let me teach you how to make coffee."

Before she can turn, you grab her hand quickly, "I'd prefer if you made it."

As you walk around the counter, you gently rest a hand on her waist, watching her carefully. Her handgrips your arm tightly, words stuttering from her lips as she tries to remind you that she's not going. You're leaving her again.

Without hesitation, you press your lips against hers, feeling her breath wash over you in a sigh. You pull her in tighter, leaning your head back to speak,

"Sam's going stir crazy. He can have it."

A smile tugs at your lips as you see her furrowed brows on her face, you place a kiss at the center of the wrinkles, pulling back to see the scrunching of her nose. A scrunch just for you.

"Wanda Maximoff. I love you. And I'm not losing you twice."

Without warning, her lips smash against your as she wraps her arms around your shoulders as you hoist her up. Wanda's legs wrap around you as both of you are smiling so wide that you can't kiss properly. Feeling her cold hands press gently against your face, you look into those green eyes that complete you life.

"I love you." Wanda whispers as her witchcraft wraps around you once more.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 310: A Tale of Two Kacchans

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Deku was all, “hey, you know what sounds like a good decision? Abandoning my studies at the safest place in the country so that the bad guy who wants to find me and kill me has literally nothing standing in his way of doing that.” All Might was all, “I fucking knew you were going to say some bullshit like that so whatever, but I’M COMING WITH YOU and I’m also going to invite the Hawksquad to come with us, mostly so that I can steal Jeanist’s car.” Jeanist was all, “okay fine you can borrow my car, All Might, but only if you wear jeans.” All Might was all, “okay sure” and he wore jeans and also sunglasses and a leather jacket and it was pretty rad. Anyway so now they’re out there fighting crime and hunting down the LoV and stuff, and absolutely none of it is going to end well, I’m just letting you know now. But I guess we’ll let them enjoy it while it lasts.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “happy belated Kacchan’s Birthday makeste, here’s the flashback you really wanted at long last,” and proceeds to pull the old vestige flashback out of the kitchen drawer and upend its contents all over my Friday afternoon without the slightest bit of warning. OFA III is all “WHAT’S UP I’M JUST SOME GUY, HELLO,” and okay?? Hello yourself. OFA II, on the other hand, is all, “okay yeah I have different hair and stuff, but I’m like 98% sure I’m either Bakugou or his goddamn twin, I mean look at me.” Which, yeah. I looked, and he really is though you guys. Anyway though, so he and OFA II basically just showed up in the First (who goes by Yoichi now)’s prison cell one day all “HEY THERE, WE’RE HERE TO SAVE YOU, APPARENTLY, ALTHOUGH WE SEEM REAL CONFUSED ABOUT IT TBH BUT HEY.” And so they saved him, and Yoichi was all “hey nice to meet you do you want to join my super-exclusive Saving The World Club”, and so they did, and then the chapter ended lol. I would have said yes too.

oh my sweet lord?? I didn’t realize we were getting a color page this week, but LOOK AT THIS

this could have been a fucking volume cover. I’m almost mad that it wasn’t, lol but I mean fkldjslklk just look at it??! Horikoshi out here spoiling us and making sure we’re well fed since next week the manga is on break for Golden Week. well this will certainly help to tide me over. hot damn look at those colors

so now it’s raining on some dumb building in the middle of somewhere

is this where the Hawksquad has set up camp for the night? or are we actually cutting back to the League? that’d be unexpected (but not unwelcome)

ffff nevermind dammit it’s just more random citizens under attack

feels like this is the third or fourth scene we’ve had of civilians being Under Attack since this arc started. I mean no offense, but I think we get it by this point. it’s the end times, etc. etc. we’re well aware that things have gone to shit

so apparently these two guys are facing off against a girl with a mutant quirk. and she’s telling them that she’s not a monster and she was just scared, oh shit. I believe her btw, you can see it in her face

but these assholes don’t believe her at all and they’re pointing what looks to be some type of support item gun at her

you know what’s interesting, is that this kind of random quirk discrimination is the exact kind of thing PLF and the like were swearing up and down they’d put a stop to with their glorious revolution. it’s almost like those guys were completely full of shit. huh

so yeah, fortunately for this woman someone is stepping in and intervening before she can be blasted to bits by this trigger-happy asshole for absolutely no fucking reason

looks like a hero actually stepped in and saved her?? but no that can’t be, heroes are the ones that ruin everything and make everything worse, or so I understand. lol where did all of this sarcasm come from out of nowhere dlkdsjlk I’m sorry guys I just suddenly got swept up in the hypocrisy of certain people’s philosophies out of the blue idek

anyway so it is of course Deku saving her, and now he’s trying to talk thess jerks down all diplomatically instead of just kicking their asses, which is certainly a choice

MOTHERFUCKER I’M

fucking impossible to miss the real world parallels here. shit. this woman nearly died for her crime of Walking While Having A Mutant Quirk huh. and meanwhile Deku is just letting this guy scurry away and even letting him keep that fucking bazooka of his, like, ????

fucking hell she’s crying!!

lmao this chapter is actively trying to make me mad now huh. that’s some genuine righteous anger I’m feeling on behalf of this fictional ferret lady whom I only met two minutes ago. girl you are not the one who needs to explain herself here!! you didn’t do anything wrong holy fuck. everything about this situation sucks so much

fkKJKLMMMHFGH

“I’m sorry I made you upset, please enjoy this panel of tiny!floating!Deku hefting this lady’s massive beach umbrella up for her like the fucking gentleman he is” well okay then thank you sir

and JUST LIKE THAT the tension is broken and I’m entirely incapable of taking the rest of this conversation seriously because Deku’s trying to be all calming and authoritative, but now the illusion has been broken because I know he only comes up to like her knees

“well thanks again for saving me young man. I’ll leave you to it, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do like protecting your Lucky Charms cereal from all those greedy children”

oh hey All Might

you wouldn’t have just let that guy with the bazooka just walk away to commit more attempted murders would you?? man

OH MY GOD DEKU IS IMMEDIATELY DITCHING HIM AGAIN

I ~CANNOT STAY HERE~ oh, well, sorry to keep you detained I know you’re busy

dfslkjlk oh my god

fucking told you Deku didn’t pack any food lol. it’s literally all notebooks in that bag you guys. he couldn’t just leave them all in his dorm room when he left, because what if someone tried to read them and came across one of the pages where he absentmindedly doodled Kacchan’s name surrounded by little tiny hearts oh gosh

AWWWWW

I needed this Horikoshi. thank you for this wholesome soul-cleansing interaction after all of that bullshit earlier

so now Deku’s climbing up this tall building to eat his lunchbox more dramatically. Tokoyami would be proud

and Banjou is saying that society right now is just like in The Good Old Days (read: bad old days) when quirk society was even more of a mess than it is now

which is exactly how AFO likes it, no doubt

so now Deku’s having a whole conversation with Banjou seemingly out loud lol, weird. and he’s basically saying that they don’t have any clues as to where TomurAFO and the League are hiding right now, and none of the Tartarus escapees they’ve found knew anything either

mmmmmfmhm, marge simpson noises

but you think you can?? you, alone, by yourself?? you think you stand a chance?? I just need you to think this all through a bit more kid

Deku it is NOT JUST YOUR RESPONSIBILITY ALONE, PLEASE REALIZE THIS ALREADY. YOU MAY BE THE CHOSEN ONE, BUT EVEN THE CHOSEN ONE NEEDS HIS FRIENDS BY HIS SIDE GODDAMMIT

and of course my pleading is all in vain, because he’s a fictional character who can’t fucking hear me, and also because I’m pretty sure there’s only one character who is going to actually be able to get him to hear reason here. I’ve been saying it, and I’ll keep saying it lol. so until then I guess I’ll just have to be patient

anyway so it appears we’re segueing into another flashback??? HORIKOSHI PLEASE GIVE ME SOME BAKUCRUMBS BEFORE THE TWO WEEK BREAK, I BEG YOU

dlKSDJLFKWJELKGHSLGKLEKJLFKHLGK

YES, THANK YOU, I KNOW WHERE THIS FUCKING IS LOL, IT’S NOT LIKE I’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH FINDING OUT WHAT HAPPENS IN THE REST OF THIS SCENE OR ANYTHING LMAO. BUT ANYWAYS DON’T MIND ME, YOU WERE SAYING??

oh my god oh my god I’m not readyyyyy, but also FUCK YEAH I AM SO FUCKING READY LOL LET’S DO THIS

YOU GUYS

I’M ABOUT TO STEP IN THAT ROOM AND YEET ONE OF THOSE FUCKING CHAIRS AT YOU ALL

NOOOOO

I’M ABOUT TO GRAB BANJOU’S GOGGLES AND STRETCH THEM OUT AND SNAP THEM BACK SO THEY SMACK THE SHIT OUT OF HIS FOREHEAD!!! IT’S WHAT HE DESERVES!!! I’M ABOUT TO MOVE TO JAPAN AND GET A JOB WITH DOORDASH AND FIND OUT WHAT HORIKOSHI LIKES TO ORDER FOR LUNCH SO I CAN BE THE ONE TO DELIVER IT SO THAT WHEN HE OPENS THE DOOR I CAN FINALLY ASK HIM “HEY WHAT THE FUCK” IN PERSON

AHHH NO EVERYBODY SHHHHH STOP TALKING!!!!

SOMEONE PLEASE TELL THAT PERSON SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS IN THE BACKGROUND TO SHUT THE FUCK UP, OH WAIT, THAT’S ME

(」゜ロ゜)」 щ(゜ロ゜щ)

LOL THIS FUCKING ASSHOLE!!! LOOK AT YOU!!! YOU’RE NOT KIRISHIMA OR SHINSOU OR IIDA IN A WIG OR ANYBODY LOL. YOU’RE JUST A DUDE. BROOOOO ABOUT FUCKING TIME, WHAT’S GOOD

I CAN’T SCROLL DOWN AHHHH BUT I HAVE TO BUT IT’S TOO INTENSE AHHHHHHH

I CAN SEE THE TOP OF HIS SPIKY HEAD, IT’S FINALLY THAT TIME AHHHHHHHH OKAY I’M GONNA DO IT HERE GOES

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

IT’S HIM. IT FUCKING REALLY FUCKIGN IS HIM OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. WHY AM I SO SHOCKED LMAO I’M THE ONE WHO’S BEEN SAYING THIS THE WHOLE DAMN TIME LMAO. OH GOD. O H MY FUCKING GOD

well okay then sir. so are you an ~ancestor~ or a Kacchan from another timeline or so what’s your deal then

YOICHI WHO IS YOICHI

YOICHI ALWAYS KNOWS WHAT’S UP. LMAO WHO IS YOICHI

(ETA: I’m going to punch myself in the face lmao. he’s Yoichi. he, the First. that’s his name. name reveal at long last what what!!)

MORE IMPORTANTLY SHOULD I BE IMAGINING NOBU’S VOICE RIGHT NOW BECAUSE LMAO I AM ANYWAY BUT YEAH

(ETA: I actually think he’s going to end up being voiced by Nobuhiko whether he ends up being Kacchan or not, just because it fits right in with the general “identical in almost every way” aesthetic he’s got going on.)

TUMBLR HOW WE LIKING OUR ANGSTY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN?? EVERYONE HATED YOU SO MUCH BEFORE THEY EVEN MET YOU, BUT THEY FORGOT TO CONSIDER THE POSSIBILITY THAT YOU MIGHT BE HOT LMAO WHAT A TWIST

“some bright-eyed brat” oh come on. IT’S GOTTA BE HIM LOL

oh my god you all are probably TIRED AS FUCK of all my screaming but I’M SORRY IMMA HAVE TO DO IT ONE LAST TIME BECAUSE...

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

that face. that expression!! THE FACT THAT HE’S OUT HERE OPENING DOORS WITH HIS FEET, LIKE HOLY SHIT!! JUST ADMIT THE JIG IS UP ALREADY

and so they really are the ones who busted First out of his jail cell huh

so how did they know you were in the room?? why did they come and break you out?? and how, pray tell, did they know to get you to transfer OFA to them?? hmmmMMMMMMMM

oh MY GOD

you guys. oh my god. it’s too much. every last bit of it lines up exactly with the Bakuverse theory sdkjfj I’m short-circuiting. it’s really fucking happening oh my lord

HELLO SEXY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN WITH HIS SEXY FUCKING SCAR, FUCK YEAH WE REALLY ARE EATING GOOD THIS CHAPTER

HELL YEAH WE’RE GOING. WE’RE GOING FULL SPEED YOU GUYS. LMAO I’M SO FUCKING HYPED RIGHT NOW I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF WEFKJLDKFFFF

SO, EVERYONE, LET’S RECAP. -- ACTUALLY NO, I STARTED TO WRITE UP A LIST, BUT I IMMEDIATELY REALIZED IT REALLY JUST NEEDS TO GO IN ITS OWN THREAD. SO I MADE IT AND POSTED IT, AND NOW I’M FINISHING UP THIS HOT MESS OF A RECAP POST. SO NOW WE’RE BACK TO THIS ONE FINAL PANEL OF DEKU EATING HIS KATSU ALL SERIOUS

YES SIR. YES SIR, WE GOING, FULL SPEED AHEAD, WHATEVER, IDK WTF IS HAPPENING BUT YES!!

lol, anyways so as I said in my other post, mysterious sexy guys with tragic pasts are what bring us together as a fandom, so whatever your thoughts are on the rest of it, let’s just rejoice in that. it’s what we deserve

[a-clowns-words]

HEY ASH I CAME WITH THE FOOD Please give us wholesome tattoo artist Deku/feral flower shop owner Bakugou AU please please please your ideas are so good

YAYYY- you submitted a post pft but that's fine, this actually works pretty well

but wholesome goth boy x feral flower boy YES YES YES I LOVE THIS ALREADY, AU UNDER THE CUT

let's start off with izuku.

he owns a small (but very well known) tattoo parlor in the city he lives in. he majored in art in college and has been doodling since he was in middle school so he has notebooks just calk full of designs and sketches for tattoos that he tears pages from to put up around the shop.

the only design he doesn't have just aimlessly floating around is this one that's extremely important to him since he won an art contest with it in his freshman year of high school (it started him on his path to being an artist) and it's framed and hung on the wall behind the counter

the said design was a sort of couples pairing (meant to be put on the insides of one's wrist and a bit of their forearm and when two people pressed their wrists together side by side it would match up. it could be described as a very intricate and detailed drawing of two roses that branch off the same steam in the middle of the tattoo, and the steam wrapped around the two roses in a spiral that was covered with thorns and leaves but it never touched the two roses.

anyways, izuku never did that design on anyone no matter how many couples that'd ask if he'd do it. it was just his own sort of personal thing, and he was saving it to do it on himself and his soulmate (if he ever found them)

so that's that, people would come and they could choose any other of his original designs around the shop (or bring in their own) and he'd happily give it to them. though he dressed in dark clothes and had dozens of tattoos, making him look like a bit of a tough/mean person, he was actually one of the nicest shop owners in town. everyone was always so surprised when they heard him start rambling on about his designs then get embarrassed as he caught himself doing so, honestly, it was adorable and everyone thought so.

now, on to katsuki.

katsuki runs a flower shop right across the street from Izuku, he opened only a month ago (bc he just moved here) and it was already starting to get popular.

now, Katsuki wasn't exactly a k i n d shop owner. he wore soft pastel colors a lot but he was big and muscly and had clear tattoos on his neck and upper arms which made him look like a sort of- soft thug? but he was very much feral. he'd call his customers extras and often give regulars nicknames. such as one girl he nicknamed 'bubble gum' because she wore a lot of pink and had pink hair, she'd come to buy flowers for their girlfriend often.

even though he's mean, god does he have the most beautiful arrangements of flowers. so the people that live in the city look past all his grumpiness (some even find it kinda charming and manage to get to know him a bit better.)

plus, there's one specific thing that he has that almost no other plain flower shop sells. black roses.

no one exactly knows how he always gets his hands on them, due to the price and rarity, but he always somehow has a few carefully placed black as night roses in a vase on the counter.

how did the two meet/get together?

well, remember those black roses? a certain perky little goth boy happens to absolutely adore them. honestly he really just loves roses but the black ones draw him in due to them being well, goth.

so, izuku skips over to katsuki's shop every week or so and his visits are always in the morning right when the shop opens so izuku can open his right after. since he visits in the morning, he always has to deal with an even more grumpy morning katsuki, but he doesn't mind at all. he comes in, perky as ever, and cheerfully hops to the counter to order the same thing each time.

"One black rose please, Baka- Baku.. Kat-katchu- uh.. oh lord I'm so sorry, uhm.. oh! How bout Kacchan? Yeah! One black rose please, Kacchan!"

"...'Kacchan'?! Really?! Who the fuck do you think you are?!"

"I'm Midoriya! Izuku Midoriya, Heh!"

"If that's spelled how I'd guess it is, wouldn't it be kinda similar to 'useless'?"

"I uh- uhm, I suppose so..?"

"Let's see here.. useless little goth boy... hm..."

"Wha-"

"Oh I know. Deku."

"D-deku? You're really gonna call me that?"

"Yeah. Gotta problem with it, nerd?!"

"No!- No... I guess not-"

"Good, now take your rose and leave."

"A-alright... thanks... Kacchan!"

and that's that. izuku learns to get used to katsuki's teasing and nicknames, and katsuki decides to just ignore the fact that he's being called 'kacchan', such a petname like nickname, by a complete stranger

at one point, katsuki asked why izuku always came to get a new black rose every week and izuku simply gave an embarrassed laugh and explained that:

"well... i uh just really like these..! they're so pretty don't you think? plus I put the one I get every week into a vase of water and use it as a uh reference for tattoos..."

"and you need a new one every damn week?!"

"ahaha- well- i'm uh... not the best at flower keeping... plus they're much prettier fresh, you know?"

katsuki rolled his eyes at the explanation, truth be told izuku just didn't want to admit he wanted an excuse to come see the blond every week. though izuku wasn't alone, katsuki didn't say anything else because HE honestly also enjoyed the greenette coming to his shop

anyways I'm getting way too invested in this so let's wrap it up

katsuki and izuku get to know each other a bit better as they go to each other's shops. one time katsuki went to izuku's shop to get a back tattoo (that took fucking hours) so they had PLENTY of time to have an actual conversation for once and they actually had some pretty deep ones, it ended with katsuki begrudgingly pointing out the framed tattoo design, commenting on how pretty and detailed it was. of course, izuku went on a small flustered ramble about it before getting stopped by katsuki laughing and telling him to "calm down there, pretty boy." honestly just making izuku more flustered with katsuki finding it amusing as fuck. he ended up scribbling down his number quickly on a stray piece of paper to hand to izuku before heading out the shop with his classic smirk.

and shit happened yada yada yada got to know each other a bit more through text and izuku ended up asking katsuki out on a date at one point. so katsuki showed up at izuku apartment on the night of the date with a whole bouquet of black roses for his goth boy.

they decided to try a relationship and it ended up getting pretty serious. one day izuku dragged his boyfriend over to his shop and forced him to sit down so he could start working on getting his important design onto the two of them.

"Wait- really?! With me?! You sure, Deku..?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Now shut up and stay still so I can do this right, dummy-"

and that's where i'm ending it all so I don't kill you guys with reading PFT (I could go so much more in-depth tho)

[getitinbusan]

The Music Room -

Min Yoongi 18+ Smut

Part of the Lost Boys Series

JIN • NAMJOON • YOONGI •

Warnings: 18+ smut, MF sex, MF oral, A playful bite, Swearing.

Words: 3075

Summary: A stand alone series about a misfit friend group of seven boys. These stories are a day in the life snip it of who they are, where they came from and how they love.

The melody drifting up the barren hall floated through the air like it was made for your ears alone.

The poetic rhythm of the keys made you pause, listening enviously at the talent of whomever was playing.

But who was playing? It was 8 am on a Friday, the room should be vacant. Pulling up the music rooms schedule on your phone, you weren't wrong. The first spot of the day was yours for the entire semester. 

You knocked lightly. The sound stopped and the bench made it's familiar dragging noise across the concrete floor. 

Pulling the heavy windowless wood open by it's cold handle you peeked inside. He scrambled, seemingly embarrassed, shoving his sheet music into his backpack. 

"You should be more careful with your notes, don't want to ruin any masterpieces." 

"No fear in that," he mumbled.  "They're just a bunch of scribbled ideas."

 Pulling the zipper shut he slung it over his shoulder.  "Sorry, I didn't know this was your time slot." 

"It's fine." you tried to smile at him but he kept his eyes down.

"Don't you have the schools app? I can check to see when you're supposed to be here." You tapped the widget,  "What's your name?"

"It's fine, I'm actually not on the schedule." 

"Oh, why not? You sounded great. If you missed the cutoff you can still be added to a wait list. People drop out all the time." 

He looked up and grinned. By God if he wasn't the most beautiful boy you'd ever seen.

"I don't belong here." 

"Don't say that. I was listening and you're really talented, you deserve to be here just as much as any of us." 

"I don't though." His eyes met yours and you were done for. "I don't go here, I'm not a student." 

"Ahh, I guess that's a problem." 

"I already said I'm sorry," he got defensive. "I'll just get out of your way."

He started towards the door.

You tugged his backpack. "So is breaking into schools and playing piano a weird hobby of yours?"

You tried to lighten the mood, "you've got a little Phantom of the Opera University edition kink?" 

He laughed. "I'm not technically breaking in, I do have a key fob." He held up the school ID. "It's my roommates. And if you want to know about my kinks you're gonna have to get to know me a little better." 

You stepped closer and took it from his hand.

"Park Jimin, Performing Arts." Handing it back you eyed him up and down. "So what's your story….."

"My name's Yoongi."

Pulling a chair out from the corner you sat and rummaged through your backpack until you pulled out your breakfast. 

"Listen Yoongi, I was just going to sit here. I need logged practice time for course credit." 

You peeled your clementine, "So if you want to stay and play, be my guest."

He looked at you unsure, "Why would you do that for me?" 

You smiled and shrugged. "I like your face." 

Turning red he plopped his knapsack back onto the floor and reclaimed the bench. 

You waited until his fingers were just about to land on the keys. "I do have one condition though." 

He froze, "Yeah, what's that?" 

"You have to take me for coffee later and tell me your story. Agree?" 

"I Agree. But you didn't have to give up your time for that, I was going to ask you out anyway." 

You probably wouldn't have given up your time but you were intrigued. Park Jimin was an amazing dancer. The curious boy who was here on scholarship was often the subject of conversation in the dining hall. Not only was he good looking but he was a mystery. He hung out with the strangest group of friends, seven misfit boys who were proud to not fit in. In this small University town they stood out as odd, everyone referred to them as The Lost Boys. Yoongi, now being revealed to you as one of them, seemed harmless enough and the opportunity to get to know a piece of them was too good to pass. 

Walking and talking up the worn concrete path you made your way through the bustle of pajama clad students trying to get to class. 

"Don't you have to be somewhere?" 

"Yeah, but I don't care. I'd rather get to know you." 

"You should go, I'm not so important that you should lose a day of school over me." 

"It's all bullshit anyway Yoongi, it's not going to get me anywhere." 

He stopped abruptly, now just outside the small coffee shop. "You sound like a spoiled brat." 

You were shocked, who the hell was he to speak to you like that? 

"I'd kill to be in your position and you don't even give a shit about just squandering it away." 

He pulled the door open and looked at you crossly. "Still want that coffee?" 

You stepped in front of him and shot him a dirty look. "I do. You owe me AND because I'm a brat I'm going to order the fanciest thing on the menu. TO GO!" 

He silently walked behind you, following to the counter while you placed your ostentatious order. You stood studying him while he asked for an iced Americano. His blond shaggy hair skimmed his chocolate eyes and his sexy lips seemed to  always sit in permanent pout. They looked like they'd be nice to kiss. 

"You want to stop staring at me and take your expensive drink. You're holding up the line." 

You blushed, knocked from your daydream admiration by his deep voice.

You huffed while pulling the chair out, making a show of your annoyance, situating yourself at the corner table.

"I thought you were getting it to go?" he barbed. 

"Why would I do that when I can be a pain in your ass a little bit longer? You promised to tell me your story, let's hear it?" 

His inhale was deep. Anxiety? Apprehension? A mix of both? His eyes stared at his coffee while his fingers fiddled with the straw. "I want to be a musician." 

"Well I figured that much." 

"Listen, if you really want to know can you just shut up? This isn't an easy thing for me to talk about, I don't just tell everyone." 

"If you don't want to tell me don't" 

He cut you off. "But I do want to, for some stupid reason."

"What reason?" 

He exhaled with a smirk. "I like your face." 

You smiled, "Then please continue." 

"I want to be a musician. I write music and lyrics and it's all I've ever wanted my entire life."

He took a sip of coffee. "My parents didn't approve of my choices so I decided to move out on my own and live my life how I wanted." 

You nodded in understanding. 

"I didn't take into consideration how hard exactly that would be, but I'm a proud man, and there's no going back." 

"So what do you do? You're not a student, do you work?"

"Yeah, I deliver food and groceries part time. It doesn't pay much but the basics are covered." 

You looked down at your shitty expensive coffee in guilt, maybe you were just a spoiled brat.

"So whenever I'm not working I try to get as much practice and writing in as I can. I use Jimin's fob to get into the music room and that's where I am most nights...all night." he shrugged in omission. 

"So no time for a girlfriend?" you felt silly the moment it left your lips. 

"I didn't think so." He looked up for the first time since the conversation started. "But," he smiled, "I think given the right person priorities could definitely be changed." 

Talking into the afternoon time flew away. Several less expensive coffees later he looked at his phone and frowned. "I've got to go to work." 

He stood up and gathered his things. "But I'd love it if we could see each other again." 

You stood to go too. "Next Friday 8am? I can let you in with my fob?" 

"That sounds really nice." His hand reached out and his fingers brushed across yours as he took the tray from you. "But I was hoping I wouldn't have to wait that long. We're having a party tonight at our place...will you come?" 

You sat on the edge of the sofa watching the group around you getting drunk and philosophical. Definitely nothing like a frat party, these guys were a different breed.

His roommates were all handsome in their own way and something about them just set you at ease. No pretensions, no apologies, they were just who they were having fun.

Finally seeing him walk through the door your heart raced when his eye caught yours.

"I'm sorry I'm late, they kept getting orders." 

"It's okay. Your roommate..." you pointed to Seokjin. "The one with the really broad shoulders, he kept me entertained with some pretty good jokes." 

He scrunched his nose, "really, really sorry." 

You pulled a bottle vodka out of your purse and raised your brows. "Are you ready for some fun." 

He grabbed your hand and pulled you up from the couch until you were close enough to hear without having to shout.

"I'd like to grab a shower. Do you want to wait in my room for me? I mean...if you're uncomfortable down here by yourself." 

It was a no brainer, the sexual tension and chemistry you'd had all day was like a current of electricity running between you.

"Lead the way." 

You looked around his room while he was showering. Sure the mattress was on the floor but the bed was made and his clothes were hung neatly in the closet. His dresser was stacked with notebooks that were overflowing with lyrics. Pieces of paper with doodles and random words loosely spilling from between the pages. 

Pictures, they must be family, small resemblances in their smiles and it looked like he had a brother. 

He had a shelf full of colognes. Picking up the Paco Rabanne he walked in as you were pulling the cap off to sniff it. 

"Sorry, I wasn't trying to be nosey, I just wanted to know what you smelled like." Idiot, of all the creepy things to say. 

He smiled, "It's alright, I'm not hiding anything." 

"No," your cheeks flushed when it finally registered that he was half naked in front of you. "I guess you really aren't." 

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just forgot to grab my clean clothes before I went in." He opened a drawer to pull out a shirt. 

"It doesn't," you blurted embarrassed. 

He pulled his hand away from the clothing and raised his brows quizzically, "So you don't want me to get dressed?" 

You walked towards him, he was gorgeous. Water droplets still clung to his muscular chest like he couldn't afford the time away from you to fully dry himself. 

"I think," you stammered, "That I'd actually prefer if you didn't."

You placed your hand on his bicep and waited for his response. 

It didn't come from words, it came from two soft warm lips attaching themselves to yours. 

"You're a good good kisser Min Yoongi. Is your mouth that good at everything?" 

"You mean like singing?" He teased your lips with his while he popped the button on your jeans. 

"No," you giggled. 

"Then you must mean biting?" His teeth lightly bit the flesh of your thigh as he kneeled to lower your pants and underwear. 

"Nope, that's not what I meant either." 

"Oh, I know, you must mean eating?" His warm tongue found your clit and gave it a little flick. "I think I'm pretty good at it." 

You ran your fingers through his hair while he looked up at you hungry. 

"Prove it," you moaned." 

Stepping out of your pants you leaned back against his dresser. Ass resting on the edge he opened your thighs, a low mumble of, "fuck" drifting out of his mouth before he dove in. 

His large hands held you open while his silky tongue explored every crevice of your sex sending your senses into a frenzy. Coming up for air every so often he'd moan at the loss of your taste before inhaling and going back in for more. He wasn't methodical, his mouth was unpredictable. One minute his tongue would be deep inside you and the next he'd have his lips around your clit sucking softly. 

"Come over here with me."

He led you to the bed, taking off your shirt before guiding you down. Your eyes ran over his body stopping at the bulge under the tightly wrapped terry cloth towel. The wetness in between your legs grew just thinking about getting to see it. 

He laid down beside you, holding your face and kissing you while you reached to undo his shroud.  

Smiling, he pulled your hand away, "I'm not done with you yet. Tell me what you want me to do to you." 

You had to rub your legs together for friction, he was driving you wild. "This morning, when I watched you playing?" 

He smiled like he knew.

"All I could think of was how sexy your..." He stopped your words by hooking two fingers  into your mouth and rubbing them against your tongue. 

"You were thinking about how good these would feel inside you?" He kissed your neck, "You really know what you want huh?" 

"Some people even say I'm spoiled."

"Do you always get your way?"

He plunged them inside of you changing your words of, "I hope so," into a long drawn out moan.  

Kissing his way down your neck and over your collar bones his mouth lingered on your breasts. Skimming his lips across your nipples he watched as they hardened into excited little buds. A small smile graced his face, he was clearly proud of how he was making your body react. 

His long piano fingers played skillfully inside of you while he latched onto your nipple and suckled. Your heart beat loudly like it was part of the parties soundtrack, the music  reverberating through the floor as he fingered you. The whole unfolding scene felt like a dream. Dizzy and intoxicated from lust and heavy breathing you didn't want to wake up to a reality other than this one.

A thud outside the door snapped you back, your thighs clamping shut on his hand as you pulled the covers up to hide yourself. 

"It's locked, nobody can get in, don't worry." He pulled the sheet back off of you to continue his work. 

"Are you sure they can't get in?"

A loud moan rang through the hall and the thuds against the wall gave away the truth. 

"I'm sure they have their own agenda." 

You flopped back trying to regain the moment while his fingers  stroked your walls. 

It was distracting at first, people fucking right outside his door. But a few minutes of listening to their pleasure, of hearing their moans and the pleas of harder, you were more turned on than ever. 

He watched you unravelling at the  pornographic sounds. "You wanna cum when they do?" 

"Please..please," you begged in time with the drag of his fingers. 

The sounds escalating on both sides of the wall seemed to add fuel to the fires of both immanent orgasms. Just as the stranger in the hall screamed her end, Yoongi pumped and sucked harder until you finished longer and louder than your unknown counterpart. He laughed as he pulled his fingers out of you, the strings of excitement cleaned off with a lurid suck of his own digits. 

Your head was still reeling when he pulled his towel off. His thick beautiful cock looked so hard and ripe as he reached in his drawer for a condom. 

"Can I put it on you?" You took it from his hand and ripped the package open. Holding it between your fingertips you got closer and ran your tongue around the head of his cock. The taste of pre cum on his freshly washed dick made you ready for more.

Giving him a few deep sucks and pumps you needed him now. He watched while you rolled the thin latex tightly over his twitching thickness and straddled him, wasting no time to begin bouncing on his cock. 

Your kisses were messy, hands entwined in his hair, your breasts grazing against his skin with every thrust while you rode him. "Fuck, you feel so good." 

His hands gripped your ass squeezing as he moaned underneath you. Orgasm building like a hurricane, the eye of the perfect storm became more imminent with every slide of your pleasure point against his soaked pubic trail.

"Make me cum Yoongi." 

He flipped you swiftly onto your back and his hips picked up the pace to the finish line. Thrusting in between your open thighs his cock drove you to convulsively cum, your cunt squeezing his own warm liquid into the condom between you. 

He lay with his arms around you in silence. Your head on his chest listening to his heart slowly make it's way back to a normal pace.

"I can't promise you anything more than who I am. I don't have anything to offer you but dreams that may or may not come true."

He stroked your hair as he spoke his truth. "I'm working hard, but I can't guarantee that I'll ever amount to anything more than a delivery boy." 

You sat up on your elbow and stared at the man you'd just fallen in love with. "I want to share all of my time with you Yoongi. In fact, I insist you take it. I've heard you play and I believe in you."

You waited until your lips were just about to land on his. "I do have one condition though." 

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Yeah, what's that?" 

"You've got to promise you'll write me a song. Agree?" 

His fingers splayed caressing your back, he couldn't help the huge smile that took over his face when he kissed you. 

"I agree. But you didn't have to give up your time for that, I was going to do it anyway."

[pileoftrashsstuff]

Fic because I felt like it, mainly dialogue tho

"Pile what are you doing?" "Doodling."

James curiously peeks at the sketchbook in their hands. "Designs?" He wonders aloud. Seeing messy sketches and little phrases filled with little concepts.

The colorless humanoid nods. "Yeah been doodling a lot lately and hopefully it pays off, ya know?" They pick up the eraser next to them and erasing a little mistake. "I wanna make a little world through art. And hopefully, I'm satisfied with the designs I have created."

James huffs, he twirls the end of his black curly locks between his fingers. "Speaking of designs, how come you haven't drawn anyone other than me?" He smirks. "Am I your favorite?"

"Well you are an easy design choice. " Pile says, chuckling at the offended gasp their design gave them.

"Easy? Well I'm taking offence to that good sir!" He crosses his arms with a huff.

Pile continues drawing, flipping across pages to compare and contrast designs. Numerous pencils (that are most likely stolen) and inking pens (that are stolen) littered the area next to them. An empty pencil case sits next to Pile.

"Can you summon an engine?" James asks, getting bored with the sounds of paper and clicking pens.

"James you know how hard they are to summon right?" Pile huffs as they start another sketch. Messy linings and vague ideas slowly coming out as the pencil moves.

James rolls his eyes. "No not that, I meant the small ones. I want little James Junior."

Pile takes out a different pencil, this one having little gold markings and seems to be made of silver. They draw a little lively shape, the lead seems to be a glowing white.

"Two beady little eyes, a cute little nose, a lovely red livery, and a big personality. There we go." The drawing glows brighter as a little red being floats from the light. It grows to the size of a cylindrical pillow and drops itself on James' lap.

"Hiya there, little bud!" James affectionately pets it, laughing lightly at the little squeaks he gives him. "Been so long since you have used the other sausage engines. How come?"

Pile sighs, putting away the pencil and organising the mess a little. "Well, it would be a hassle having to deal with multiple sausage engines. They look like they can't move but trust me when I say that you will find them in the most unlikely of places."

"Eep!" The sausage engine squeaks as his cheeks are squished. James silently mulls over his thoughts. "You know... This is weird."

"Well what is weird?" Pile asks. A little note written above the sketch and a close up of a design not far from it is messily assembled.

"We are not in any setting, Pile."

Pile looks up and sees nothing but white. Stretching endlessly throughout. "Huh..."Pile shrugs. "Seems like it."

"Why are you so nonchalant over this?" James asks, calm for someone asking such a question. Little James squeaks as his nose is lightly flicked.

"Well, you are a humanized design of a red engine from the classic series and you are currently petting what we like to call a sausage engine as well as talking to a colorless humanoid figure like me who has the ability to summon beings from a sketchbook." Pile breathes heavily after the long tangent.

"Seems like it." James scratches the sausage engines underside, feeling him relax into his lap. "Is this the work of an artist or an author?"

"It depends really." Pile flips to another page. "An artist can draw their design on anything they want, a blank canvas or a drawn room."

James looks back at the sketchbook. Drawings of moving figures and various arrows littered the page. "And an author?"

Pile shrugs. "I'm not an author, bud. I'm merely an amateur artist so take what I say or said with grains of salt." A different pencil is chosen, this one having a stubbier lead for thicker lines.

"It depends on what the author is writing, fanfiction or their own world. They can give you vague ideas or let you explore the world through their own concept art. Some would describe the room to you in detail or the setting they chose is already familiar to you."

James just realized something. "Wait so are we both vaguely clothed or naked?"

"Well it's up to who ever is reading this I guess." Pile shrugs. "We don't even have genitals nor clothes when we were first introduced. Hell, my design does not have a mouth yet I'm still talking aren't I?"

"Huh, never knew that writing can kick your imagination into an overdrive." James faces them. "How was your first experience to writing your own world?"

Pile feels a shiver down their spine as they remember their early days of writing. "It was interesting when I started writing stories of my own. Having to struggle with a lot of dialogue and info-dumping on occasion. Grammar can be your worse nightmare if your don't thread carefully. Especially since I wrote everything down through paper and pencil so one drop of liquid could ruin hours upon hours of work."

"But you enjoyed it very much?" James huffs as his companion wriggles off of his lap. He moves to Pile's lap, wriggling until he relaxes into a comfortable position.

Pile pets the little thing on their lap. "Yep, the countless other little fanfictions and stories say that much. Can't believe I dedicated actual time to the little worlds but it proves to be an exciting adventure when I feel like returning."

Pile looks at the endless white. "You know... I am actually glad that I used to write so much. It helped me revisit countless worlds and works that other people made, from which I have drawn so many inspired ideas from." They look at James.

"And you are now part of those endless worlds. As a humanized engine that is."

James puffs his chest out. "Of course I am! Aren't I very memorable? Practically the first problematic fave everyone seems to have."

"I should bring the others back but I'll save it for a different time." Pile gives the wriggling sausage engine back to James.

"How many did you write?" He adjusted his hold on the little thing, chuckling at the indignant squeaks.

"A lot but we can trudge down the lane when we want to."

"When you want to." James laughs as Pile lightly shoves him.

"Oh shut it you. I want to go home and work on the new designs now."

"Well..." James pats their back. "See you then."

"Alright."

[h2bakugou]

I was wondering if you can make a Bakugou x reader, the reader is a really really dumb girl (like a fusion of Karen Smith (from mean girls and Brittany from glee)) but she is so beautiful and funny and Bakugou fell in love with her because her personality, something really fluff (the quirk of the Y/N is "angel",she can cure people with wounds, also floats and make like a wonder woman lasso of thrut with her halo)(I’m sorry if this is hard to understand english is not my first lenguage)

a/n: yes!! this is so cool omg, also glee was my shit bruh- i watched all of it, and the ending still makes me cry so much. thank you for the request love!

summary: bakugou is absolutely head over heels for you, the beautiful and funny angel-quirk having girl that isn’t always the brightest. yet he’s still in love with you.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / angel - your quirk

warnings: fluff, swearing

wordcount: 1.2k

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

Bakugou couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment he fell in love with you. He just did. It wasn’t a big surprise to him, he found you incredibly gorgeous, and was willing to do anything to talk to you or just be in the same room with you.

Your personality was as beautiful as you were. You were kind, caring, and heavenly. Your quirk was literally called Angel. And you made Bakugou laugh.

Bakugou also found that you weren’t always so bright. It wasn’t a bad thing, in fact, Bakugou liked it, more than he liked Kaminari.

“Hey, Bakugou!” You smiled and hugged him, pulling away when you’d successfully squeezed the life out of him.

“H-hey.” He breathed out, taking in a deep breath. You giggled and twirled a strand of hair between your fingers.

“What do you want?” Bakugou asked, watching as a blush spread across your cheeks. You were confused. Your pink lips parted as to say something but no words came out.

“You always do that hair-twirl thing when you want something.” Bakugou spoke again, this time his tone softer. He admired your (e/c) eyes as they seemed to glisten in the light of the common room. A smile perked up on your lips.

“Do I?” You question, trying to think back on every occurrence that you’ve ever twirled your hair between your fingers.

“Yes, you do, just spit it out already.” Bakugou was one to get impatient, but he never seemed to get that way with you. No matter how irritatingly long you took to say something or to get your point across, he could listen to you say ‘like’ ‘uhm’ and ‘so’ forever.

Your voice was so sweet like it was dripping honey with every word or sound that left your lips.

“Okay so, you know how that big test is coming up? I was wondering if you could like, help me study for it. I lost my notes.” You rub your lips together, the pink sparkly lip-gloss that coated your lips spreading back out.

“This better not be a waste of my time, Angel.” Bakugou had given you the nickname since you were quite literally the definition of it. Not to mention the bright glowing aura that seemed to follow you and the golden halo that floated above your head.

Bakugou was curious to know if it stopped glowing when you fell asleep, but he figured now was not the time to ask questions.

“It won’t be! Come on!” You drag him up to your room, which was surprisingly clean. Bakugou tried to ignore the pictures you had up of you with Deku, one of your close friends in the class.

There was one picture that made Bakugou smirk though, the one you had taken with him, the two of you standing on the stairs of U.A., Bakugou holding you in his arms after winning a 2v2 battle against Kirishima and Mina.

You were kissing Bakugou’s cheek in the photo, and Bakugou was smirking like a dumbass. Much like he was doing now.

“Earth to Bakugou!” You waved your hand in his face, snapping him back to reality. You plopped down onto the floor of your dorm, papers strewn across the floor. 

“I still can’t find my notes.” You huffed, your lips pouting. Bakugou sat down and watched as you dumped your bookbag out in the middle, emptying all of its contents on the floor.

“My lipgloss! I was looking everywhere for this!” You pick up the light purple container of lipgloss that you had lost a week ago. Bakugou sighed as he picked carefully through the pile of stuff on the floor, the notes catching his eye.

“I found your fucking notes, although they look more like a coloring book page-”

“You’re my hero! Thank you so much!” You wrap your arms around Bakugou, avoiding laying all over your stuff that laid on the floor.

Your notes were written okay on lined paper, in several different colors with doodles all over the sides.

You’d made small comics of some kind as well as kissy-faces and notes around his name.

Bakugou’s cheeks were bright red at this point.

“Oh my god! You weren’t supposed to see that! This is like sooo embarrassing!” You quickly hid your notes behind you, covering your red face with your hands.

“Do you like me or something?” Bakugou asked, his curiosity finally getting the best of him.

“Yeah, you’re like super cute, and strong. How could I not like-like you?” You smile,  your hands moving to search through the rest of your stuff.

It’s pushed away as Bakugou practically leaps across the floor to kiss you. His lips connect to yours and your back is pressed against the ground.

The kiss is needy, and well-overdue. You wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss him back, his lips tasting vaguely like cherries. What did he eat for lunch? Was this chapstick you were tasting?

It was your lipgloss. It had rubbed off on his lips and you’d just now tasted it. Kinda funny.

Bakugou pulled away and looked down at you, his vermilion eyes staring into your (e/c) ones.

“Your lips are shiny now.” You giggle. Bakugou rolls his eyes and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You get silent as he looks down at you, his body hovering over your own, his knees on each side of your legs, trapping you below him.

“Do you really need my help with this test? I know you aren’t that dumb.” Bakugou stares at you, a blush evident on his cheeks.

“Yes, I do! But only if you help me, Momo talks to fast.” You admit, feeling a little embarrassed.

“You better ace this test or I won’t help you at all.”

Bakugou knew that he was lying to himself when he said that. Of course, he’d help you.

- - -

“Bakugou!! I did it! I got a B!” You waved your test in his face, showing him how good you had done. He smiled and rolled his eyes, his hands resting on your hips.

“Babe, calm down. I’m proud of you.”

“This is like, the best I’ve ever done! I did so good!” You were smiling and giggling, an intoxicating sound to Bakugou.

“How about I give you a reward for doing so good?” Bakugou took the test from your hand and had a full view of your reddening-face now.

“R-Reward?”

Bakugou’s lips found their way to yours within seconds, and you were breathless. It was cute and short, nothing too extreme since the two of you were still in class, thankfully everyone had cleared out.

Bakugou pulled away and rubbed his lips together before running his tongue across his bottom lip.

“Vanilla chapstick this time?”

“It’s actually birthday cake-”

“Shut up.”

Bakugou pressed his lips back to yours, missing the feeling of your lips on his. It was such an amazing feeling, one he’d wanted to feel for what felt like ages. He’d dreamt about kissing you from the week he met you.

“Babe, we’re gonna get-”

“Hey! Go to the dorms.” Mr. Aizawa groaned, trudging past the open classroom door, cocooned in his sleeping bag like a caterpillar.

“Caught.” You finished your sentence, Bakugou’s face bright red.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.6

You wake up sometime around one. Not too late in the day given your morning. With a decent amount of sleep under your belt you roll over and start striping your bed of its sheets. Then you make your way across your room, picking up stray clothes as you go to your hamper and dump your collection of dirty linens and clothes into it. You carry the hamper to the bathroom where you load half into the washer. There's no real point in separating the clothes from colored items and pastels or whites. You're only twenty-four and don't have your life totally figured out yet. You can be a little lazy with laundry.

Once your first load of laundry is being washed you go to do your weekly tidy of your home. The one good thing that came from the paranoia of your car's break in was you rearranged all the furniture of the home, thus cleaning as you went. So that means it's more of a quick wipe down of counters and sweeping today. Maybe you'd organize your art supplies while doing your laundry. It's an activity that wouldn't distract you too much and make you forget you had laundry in the wash.

You finish washing the dishes from this morning you begin wiping the counters and tabletop when you notice your fidget cube is still on the table where Toby left it earlier.

'Don't want to lose this. Back to the bookshelf where you belong.' When you get to the living room's bookshelf you notice one of your book's is missing. Ironically it's The Book Thief.

'Tobias probably picked it up and put it down somewhere.' you'd keep your eyes peeled for the book while you cleaned.

After wiping down bookshelves, tables, counters, even the mantel over the fire place you still hadn't found your missing book. You probably picked it right up and placed it right back down without even realizing. You'll just keep an eye out until you find it. You don't even reread books, you really just kept a copy to lend out to people when they ask what your favorite books are. It isn't a real big deal if you can't find it, plus there's bound to be a copy floating somewhere in a thrift shop or yard sale.

The washer chimes right as you grab the broom to sweep. Pausing this task to go retrieve your laundry and do the rest. You empty the dirty clothes left in the basket onto the floor and place the clean wet ones inside the basket. After starting the final load you carry the basket out back. As nice as this home is its still small and doesn't have a dryer, which early summer is fine but come fall and winter might be more cumbersome. Seeing as you have to hang the laundry out to dry outside. Maybe when it gets cold you'll just do smaller loads and hang them up in the bathroom or over the fire place. But that's a thought for future you. Right now current you is struggling yet again to get a fitted sheet to sit on the line. Fitted sheets are probably Satan himself in disguise.

When you finish stringing all the laundry up you take a moment to just enjoy the quiet and the peace that comes with the outside. It's nice out here, maybe after you finish the last few chores today you can come out and just draw, it'd be a good way to also keep an eye on this weather in case it turns. While it hasn't happened yet you're very aware of the risks you take by ignoring the existence of meteorologists. And by that you mean just not bothering to look up the weather for the day.

Heading back inside you restart your task of sweeping. Like you thought you've finished before the washer has even completed it's first cycle. The house isn't too big so it's easy to clean it from top to bottom within a day normally, but today you had even less to do thanks to this week's rearranging. So you move on to organizing your art supplies and separating all materials by medium.

Of course arranging materials is never easy, after all you end up staring at all your horded empty sketch books and note how your thumbnail notebooks are just covered in doodles and random scribbles but no real art or ideas. Maybe it's time to start kicking yourself into gear. You ran into a major period of burnout before moving and now with this fresh start you might be able to focus on progressing with art, even if you don't pursue it as a career. You've always loved the ability to draw and create images that make others happy. But right in this moment you just want to make yourself happy. Maybe you could start small just a few still lifes and see how you feel after that.

Hearing the chime of the washer you hurry to finish putting away the supplies in their newly assigned places. Just as before you transfer the wet and clean clothes into the awaiting basket and take them out to be hung to dry. You don't have another fitted sheet this go round so it goes by much faster than it previously had. Now with all of your washing for today hung you head back inside to grab a fresh sketchbook.

Having never been one for scenery, more of a portrait artist, you start off with small things. A few stills of a flower under the window, the old tire swing on the tree, and even the blue jay that dove for dinner right in front of you. Of course all of these were warm ups done in a few minutes, though you really wish you had more time on the blue jay one. You really need practice with things that aren't people.

The warm ups of course don't look very good, but you can still see what you'd been going for. The hatching and smudging you'd done, to increase depth and give the quick drawing more life, did help a little but it was clear this was an area where you weren't skilled. But that didn't deter you, after all you  needed more practice and wouldn't be getting better without it.

Deciding to draw the scene before you, a small open meadow surrounded by trees, in other words your backyard with your drying laundry. You start off slow and make sure to actually look and take in the yard in front of you, doing your best to not just make up the trees and their shapes as you go. Soon you are lost in the meditative muscle memory of drawing. The scratching of pencil scrapping across paper further lulling you into a trance like state as you etch out the scenery.

A harsh breeze blows through and the loud flapping of sheet hitting sheet knocks you loose from your trance. Checking to make sure none of your laundry was flying off, it hadn't the laundry was still secured to the line. Smiling you glance down to actually see what you've sketched out so far. It isn't too bad, though you aren't sure how long you've been working on it, the trees all have a distinct shape rather than your typical cartoon one size fits all attempts. Scanning the page your eyes catch onto something off, out in the tree line it looks like you'd drawn a figure hiding behind a tree.

Hearing the beating of your heart that's currently hammering against your chest you look around. Did your mind do that as a joke or had someone genuinely been watching you draw? Your mouth is dry as your eyes scan the tree line for any sign of what could've been mistaken for a person, but you saw nothing. No one was there. Had anyone ever really been there? Why would you draw that? Why wouldn't you remember doing it? You don't feel safe out here anymore. There are eyes watching you you can feel it. They may not physically be there but the phantom eyes that surround you and cause your skin to crawl make sure you know of their presence. You take that as a sign to head inside for the evening, one that doesn't need to be repeated.

You lock the door immediately behind you and check your phone. It's seven, and you have an email notification. Thanking whatever power for the distraction you slide down your back door and open the notification. It's from Hollis!

YN r u  coming to SND? It's that teen beach zombie movie u love. Y;know the awful D list one Blk and wht with the 50yos playing teenagers

Lemme know I'll save your seat.

Sent 6:47 P.M.

They're so sweet to remember you loved this awful D list zombie movie. Horrible subplots and main plot and all. But you're a little spooked right now and watching even that joke of a horror movie is probably too much for you. You doubt you'd feel better by the time ten rolls around to watch it. Not to mention your battery's still drained from Toby this morning. And knowing for a fact you'd probably stay late to talk till morning with Hollis, Jake, and Kirby you decide it's best to skip this week. Just not having the energy to handle Saturday Night Dead.

Nah, sorry man. Battery's dead from being social earlier. Thanks tho, I do appreciate you! ….....,.... lemme know what next week's movie is!

Sent 7:10 P.M.

It'd probably be a good time to make something for dinner, there's a box of mac n cheese in the pantry. Simple but always beloved. As you wait for Hollis to respond you start on boiling water. But you didn't have to wait too long since they'd answered near instantly.

Chill, don worry we'll catch ya next week

…..oooop

ot not...Kirb's said it's the start of watching the entire warren file collection

starting from the beginning

...well the first movie released, Insidious. LOL we probs won't ever see you again.

Sent 7:12 P.M.

How dare Kirby betray you like this. First off those movies are awful, and like not cheesy awful just awful awful. Not to mention he knows how you feel about the Warrens and their cases. You have a power point presentation ready for that dick the next time you see him. ...well not literally but you'd make one to prove a point!

Where's Kirby now? I just wanna talk, I just wanna talk is all.

Sent 7:18 P.M.

Already ran off toy vermont probably

will we get blessed with a ted talk nxt week?

Sent 7:20 P.M.

I can't tell if you're joking or not. If you aren't then yea I can make a power point and we'll play that instead of the movies. Every week until this town understands the severity of this.

Sent 7:21 P.M.

Ya just jkin.

Your passionate hate is funny tho, so could be good to do something mid warren marathon.

Sent 7:23 P.M.

Guess the dissertation on how horrendous the “exorcisms” were will have to wait. They'd just been joking. This is probably a good ending of the conversation anyway, it's hard to tell sometimes but you feel you'll just run in circles with the current topic or worse fall into a rant that they won't read all the way through because they'll have left with the rest of the stunt gang to get dinner before heading over to the Cryptonomica for Saturday Night Dead. Hollis is typically a real good sport about this kinda thing but you'd rather not bog down their night with your hate boner for the Warrens.

'I'll let them know later that I'll still come to Saturday Night Dead next week.' you think as you dump the pasta into the water that finally came to a boil. It's quiet as you cook your macaroni dinner. You'd normally not notice the lack of sound or life in your home before, but maybe having Connor and Toby over put things into perspective. Guests aren't really a thing you've ever had, you always feel rude if your social battery runs out before someone's stay is over. But maybe you're lonely, and it's put you on edge.

Though this week would've put anyone on edge, you have still been alone in this house for two months. That can't be healthy for your mental well being, humans are social creatures by nature after all. Maybe you could get a pet, something that'd make it's fair share of noise and give the home a bit more life than your normally hollow shell wondering the halls. Are you even sure you want a pet? Do you have time for one? You have the standard nine to five, but what about when you're off on a nightly trip because of your sleeplessness? What if you forgot about them? Hell your brain's been so foggy these last few months, it wouldn't be surprising.

Like a sign from the divine themselves, the pot of water boils over. Steam is rising as the sizzling is heard. Your head snaps twice to the right as you scramble to lower the heat and raise the pot off the eye. Putting it down on an unused eye you give it a quick stir and thankfully no pasta got burned to the bottom of the pan....this time. The pasta seems a little crunchy but a texture you'll eat so you kill the hot eye and start on the cheese portion of your mac n cheese.

As you eat you continue your original debate about getting a pet. Ultimately deciding that you just aren't ready for that kind of responsibility right now. Sure you'd had tons of pets in your parents' home but that was with a financial safety net and back when your mental health wasn't all over the place. Not to mention the pets were family pets and responsibility was split three ways.

There isn't much room in your home for you to have a roommate, and that presents a whole nother set of challenges. You could try to make friends through online forums again! It's hard to talk to people in general but you always get scared off before replying to a comment or post. Or overshare to the point people infantize you. Even better trying therapy out could help with your loneliness. Hah ok good one, even if you had money for it consistently you don't think you could trust someone knowing all your secrets but not knowing any of theirs. And while that in and of it self is an example of why you need it, you're rational enough to realize you aren't ready for that either.

After finishing your meal you put away the left overs and clean the dishes. You'll be happier tomorrow knowing they aren't your problem to deal with. You start to make your way to your bedroom but freeze just before the hall.

'You shouldn't stay here...you need to leave.'

A glance at the time tells you it's eight thirty-nine, if you left right now you could make it to Saturday Night Dead with time to spare. You don't need to fill the loneliness with new friends, just spend time with the ones you already have. Duh. Turning you grab your keys off the bookshelf and take one of the masks hanging from a hook by the door.

Checking your door was locked and locking your car once you were in, you're ready to drive. Knowing you're still overstimulated you forgo the music on this drive, hoping it will calm you down enough to enjoy the movie and some down time with friends. And that would help put a pin in your self isolating habits. It'd really be nice if you brought movie snacks over to surprise the gang. You're pretty sure the mini mart carries everything you need. Jake likes swedish fish, Hollis is addicted to those extreme sour airhead ropes, and Kirby's a weirdo with his love of red vines and surge. Hahaha that man will die before he's thirty-eight.

Still having the extra time you deiced to stop by the mini mart and grab the candy. What's the worse that can happen you have another panic attack in front of strangers. Plus you hadn't seen Magnolia the last few times and you'd hate for her to think you'd been ignoring her. Pulling into the empty mini mart parking lot you take a breath to steel your resolve before leaving your car.

Tim looks at the door when he hears the chime and stiffens when he sees you. Fuck you did have a panic attack in front of this guy last night, plus you really haven't formally met. But didn't Toby say his roommate was named Tim? And he and Brian were both here talking with Tim last night before you came in. That can't be coincidence.

“uh...hi?” you say awkwardly standing in the doorway, door closed behind you.

“um, hi?” perfect he's just as awkward in this situation as you are. You can work with this.

Moving through the first two isles you keep your eyes peeled for Magnolia, even though you can make this an in and out trip for candy, you do miss the little bodega cat.

“Wh- hey are you, are you even ok to be here?” Tim calls as he rounds the counter and makes his way to you.

“Huh? Oh...oh yea. I'm chill now.” you hear the bell before you see her. The little ting tin ting of her bell that comes with the grace only fluffy cats have.

“You literally collapsed on the floor last night after blacking out while driving.” his tone is very stern. He and Nate would probably get on like a house on fire. The grumpy old men who secretly care a lot duo.

“I don't remember collapsing...but I know I didn't drive.” well you don't know that but you do firmly believe that.

The man is just turning into the isle when you spot the floof sauntering just behind him. Magnolia didn't spare either of you a glance as she made her way to the counter. Probably going to her bed, an old shipping box for apples, you'd just meet her over there then. With no warning to the man you squeeze past him and and follow the cat. Agitated footsteps following after you in your quest to pet the cat.

Magnolia perks up upon seeing you, the flicking of her tail letting you know she's anticipating her pets. The huffing Tim hovering behind you isn't as pleased with your actions as the cat is. The man is radiating negativity, annoyance maybe or is it concern that breeds frustrated anger? The second he starts to clear his throat, as if to remind you of his hovering, you roll your eyes.

Looking back at him over your shoulder you see him in all his grumpy man glory.  His brow was furrowed so hard his thick eyebrows nearly covered his eyes. But with the way his lips emoted the man before you looked more like a pouting muppet. It would be funny if it weren't for the foreboding feeling of the moments before being reprimanded by a teacher.

When you straighten up you take note that your eyes meet perfectly. He's the same height as you that's surprising, you thought he'd be taller than 5'7. His eyes widen slightly at seeing your full height, it must've thrown him off since the first time he saw you, you'd actively been trying, and had succeeded at looking smaller.

“What are you doing here?” well he doesn't get thrown off for long.

Running a hand through Magnolia's fur a few more times as you respond, “Petting Magnolia.” you really are a little shit sometimes.

“No...no, why are you out? Toby had to take you home last night, you shouldn't just be waltzing around town after that.” maybe it was frustrated concern.

“Oh I'm fine now.”

Magnolia at this point has jumped up on the counter and is headbutting you for more attention. Chuckling you turn your attention back to her. Meanwhile Tim behind you is at a loss for words.

“Fine?? You don't just...bounce back from a panic attack.”there's personal experience behind those words.

“I just rationalize things fast.” Hearing the trill of the clock on the wall reminds you that you need to grab those snacks and head over to the Cryptonomica for movie night.

Going to the candy isle you grab one of each of the gang's favorites, you snag a bag of white cheddar popcorn on the way to the counter and place your items there. Tim doesn't get a word out before you rush off to the cooler near the back that is in all honesty pretty sketch. Like who even makes  Fruitopia anymore? That stuff got discontinued in the early 2000s. The cooler even has Hi-C Ecto Coolers...you might actually check if they're in date and grab a few.

Rummaging around the cooler you finally spot the weird tech green and black splattered can proudly stating SURGE. It has no date...questionable at best. But hey it's only Kirby drinking it, and it's been well established that man will die well before middle age.   Grabbing a can to check the Ecto Coolers, luck is on your side! These cans are from the re-release that happened as a promotion for the Ghostbusters revival a few years back, they'll be good for another two years! For now you'll just take one so you won't have to worry about lugging cans around for the movie.

Once your new items are placed on the counter the expression on Tim's face cannot even be described. The questions of the surge are probably the ones easiest to read...or they're just the most predictable.

“Kirby likes red vines and surge, sickening right?” Maybe a little joke will break the ice.

“...Like that little round pink...thing?”  What?

The laughter is coming out before you can stop it, the image of said pink Kirby consuming red vines and surge only to accessorize as your friend comes to mind. It's adorable and cursed at the same time. Adorably cursed. You'll have to draw that and print a few copies to hang around the Cryptonomica.

“No,” you're choking on giggles at this point, “Kirby, the owner of the Cryptonomica.” catching your breath and regaining your composure, “It's that tourist trap just across from the RV park.”

“Oh.” normally such a short cold reply would make you shut down the conversation. But This is Toby's roommate, and if you want to be friends with Toby, you'll probably run into him a lot more. Plus if he's a new night shift cashier it wouldn't hurt to be on good terms with him for when you're out on adventures.

“Yea, hey Toby mentioned you three just came to town, so you might not have known but the Cryptonomica does a weekly movie night on Saturdays. Saturday Night Dead. Normally it's awful old horror movies but next week they're starting a Warren Case files “arch”.” Tim doesn't take the conversation bait at the pause.

“It's a great way to meet other locals, you guys should check it out if you get the chance. It starts at ten and runs till one or so on most weeks.” Olive branch has been extended.

Tim relaxes for the first time since you got here tonight. The sheepish look on his face and twitchy pupils give the impression he's thinking it over. He sighs and nods before saying, “Yea, that sounds...nice.”

Olive branch skeptically taken! You'll count this one as a win in your book. With the mood lightened Tim breaks the ice a bit further.

“Surge and red vines can not be good for you.”

“Right! If living off mountain dew and pizza rolls doesn't kill him, this for sure will.” you both have a small laugh at that. It's nice to finally have cleared up the mix up from the beginning of the week. Which reminds you.

“Oh...um...I'm YN by the way. It's nice to meet you...sorry for the two,” your neck tics to the side, “previous nights.” you finish.

“Tim...and it,uh happens sometimes...'s fine.” Score awkward acknowledgment of previous meetings and you can now erase those from your nightly anxieties.

Tim finishes ringing and bagging your items and you pay. Giving another pet to the curled up kitty on the counter you nod farewell to Tim.

A trill rings out from the clock on the wall. It's ten.

Two heads snap to look at the wall. You take a second glance at your phone while Tim checks his watch. Both say the clock on the wall is correct. But it just turned nine not even ten minutes ago. Right? You can brush off yourself loosing track of time but when you involve another person that just doesn't make sense. Tim looks just as concerned as you. Only Magnolia lays unaffected by the lost fifty minutes.

“I should go.” Tim nods numbly to you as you exit the store.

You won't be able to make it to the movie, well you could but you'd disturb someone if you walked in mid movie. Choosing to go home instead you drive, once again without music. Entering your home you hang your mask back on the hook. Putting away the drinks and snacks for next weekend, you make your way to your bedroom. Once again freezing just before the hallway. Turning to your living room you can see a book in the middle of your coffee table. You definitely don't remember the book being there, and doubt you'd miss it out in the open. But as you got closer you could confirm, even in the dark, that it was The Book Thief.

[headoverhiddles]

Wrapped In Plastic - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: The new kid at school intrigues you. He’s infatuated too, but beneath that scary exterior, you’ve got no idea what’s in store. 

Notes: Era: Spooky Kids! Requested by anon: “High school Brian having a crush on you.”

There he is, sitting in front of the principal again. Brian Warner. You're surprised he hasn't been expelled yet, frankly, even though he just moved here to South Florida recently.

You watch from afar, sitting with your friends. He's making that face. That expression... or lack of expression. He doesn't give a fuck what he got in trouble for, and you, he and the principal know it.

"Hey. (y/n)," your best friend says, "What the hell? Are you listening?"

"Yeah," you mutter, glancing back into the office. God, he would probably fuck like an animal, taking you in some old haunted forest somewhere while spanking you and telling you you're his dirty little slut...

Your friend scoffs when she sees where you're looking.

"That guy is dangerous, quit fantasizing. That isn’t your picture perfect bad boy-- that’s like dating the next Son of Sam killer.”

Your other friend chimes in. “My sister told me she saw him and his pack of weirdos out lighting an abandoned house on fire. My sister’s friend said she hears him jerking off in the washroom every lunch hour. The whole school knows about it. Also apparently in creative writing, he turned in this story about this guy fucking his sister's corpse or something. Seriously weird, probably evil. He's gonna end up in jail, mark my words." You ignore your friend, but turn back into the conversation.

Eventually, the principal gives up, dismissing him. You see Brian join his friends outside the office door, who have been waiting-- Jeordie and Stephen, you think you've heard them called in class. The one with the brown comb-over is called Pogo outside of class, because of his fascination with serial killers. You think it's funny. Those guys just do whatever they want. 

Your breath hitches. Brian tucks his long black hair behind his ear, looking up and grinning at his friends. He's describing what he did, and he looks like a gleeful child who just got away with murder as the other two bust out laughing and dig for details. How could anyone think he's evil? 

Cold chills run through your body as he meets your eyes. Oh, fuck. He smirks a little bit your way, but you quickly look away. His features harden, and he turns back to his friends. You turn back to yours.

You can't help watching after him as he walks down the hall to fourth period, though... his head nearly reaches the ceiling, and that metal Planet Of The Apes lunchbox makes you smile. You've heard him make a threat or two to beat someone's ass with it, and you believe he'd do it. For every bully who promised him he'd be nothing, there's something about him that promised so much more.

--

The bell goes, and Brian sits down at the desk. 

"She was looking at you." 

"Yeah, she was talking to her friends about me," Brian mutters back.

"She looked like she was wetting her panties over you," Jeordie grins, "She looks like she wanted to suck your dick right there in front of Mr. Ogilvie!"

"That'd be the day," Brian sighs. 

"Yeah, you'd have beat off material forever," Pogo laughs.

"But she wasn't," he said, "You guys are just fucking blind."

"I don't know, I got some blow job vibes from her,” Pogo says. 

“You get blow job vibes from everyone.” 

“I’ll blow you for lunch money,” Jeordie mentions. Pogo shrugs. 

“I might take you up on that.” His obnoxious laughter rings out as you walk by the door. You recognize it immediately, and look back. Brian’s sitting there, knees tucked under the desk like his legs won’t fit. Shit. In your experience, being this preoccupied with someone meant you were into them... or at least, wanted to see more of them. 

Brian looks up again, and sees you staring at him. This time, he frowns. You’re drawn away by your friend, who pulls you toward your next class. As you're walking, someone calls your name.

“Hey! (y/n), right?” 

You turn as your friend keeps walking ahead. You scoff slightly as he approaches. “Like you don’t know my name.” You pause, backtrack. “I- sorry. That was mean."

“That’s okay. I’ve been known to be a little mean too,” he smirks, and he flips his hair out if his face. “I guess when you hang around a bunch of catty bitches all the time, it rubs off on you.” His voice is so deep and calm. It throws you off whenever he speaks, but does other things to you as well.

"Hanging out with a pair of delinquents can do the same." Your eyes dart inside the classroom to his friends, who are carving something into a desk. He gives a small smile.

"Touché."

“Speaking of rubbing off,” you raise an eyebrow, “Did you want to talk to me?”

He blushes, then forces his embarrassment away. “That rumor’s not true.”

“No?”

“Nah. I did light that abandoned house on fire though.” He grins, and you do as well, hugging your books closer to your chest. 

“So. You’re a rebel, huh?”

“If not putting up with everybody’s bullshit counts as rebelling, then yeah. I guess so.”

“I can respect that,” you nod. “I feel the same way... but I’m not as fearless as you.”

“Are you saying you might commit arson with me, (y/n)?” 

“Maybe. How did the conversation progress to lighting things on fire with you?” 

He laughs, ducks his head nervously. “Well. Um, I saw you staring like a creep, and... I was wondering if you wanted to be creeps together. Y’know... hang out sometime? Come see my band, or...?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah, I am.”

You smile, poking his black shirt that read Christianity is Unnatural, Abnormal, and Perverse. “You’ve got balls, Brian.” You look at the clock, and back to his class. “What do you say we fuck off for the rest of the day?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You wanna skip class today?”

“Sorry,” you walk your fingers up his chest. “I know I’m not quite at your level of rebellion yet, but it’s a start.” 

He laughs as he follows you to your locker. 

---

“So. Do you have a car?”

“No.” He scratches his head. “We can walk back to my house, though. My parents aren’t home.” 

Following that plan, you make it back to his house. For someone hailed as the Antichrist of the school, he's got a relatively normal looking home, white picket fence and everything. All that changes once you get to his room.

"Wow," you say, looking up at everything. He's got serial killer-like writing scrawled on the wall by his bed, lyrics that seem like they're straight out of a porno or a horror film, or both. There are pentagrams drawn on his bed posts, and posters of bands like Nine Inch Nails, Ozzy Osbourne, KISS on his walls.

"I know it's stupid, but I'd give anything to meet those guys," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not stupid," you say, examining the edges of the posters, freyed from the move no doubt. "I actually think it's awesome. I love Ozzy."

"One day I'm gonna beat his record for most drugs consumed over a lifetime."

"Have you started practicing?" you tease.

"I... well, I haven't had the chance."

"Right. Let me know when you do." You smile, going over to sit on his bed. He looks down at you, seems to have a mini panic attack, then acts cool with it, playing with his lip ring and sitting beside you. You look around the messy floor. He's got a strange mix of stuff that oddly seems to perfectly fit his personality: leaking boxes of black hair dye, various lipsticks and nail polishes, a bag of weed, books on the rise of fascism and Carl Jung's red book, an antique-looking switchblade, a Willy Wonka hat, condoms with little angry faces drawn on them, an old deflated football with "FIGHT" written on it, and... "What's that?" you ask, leaning down. Brian coughs.

"Oh. Yearbook from last year."

You pick it up, looking at all the little drawings of candy, needles, Charles Manson and other doodles he's defaced the book with. "But you didn't go to this school last year."

"I traded my mom's diet pills for it."

"Huh. Hustling already. Must have been some good stuff." You hesitate. The page was open to the photos of you as the lead in the play last year. You smirk, pretending to squint. "Is that a cum stain I see on my face?"

"You wish," he huffs, but he's blushing, hair curtaining around his face. You give him a look, turning fully toward him.

"Why'd you really invite me over?"

"To tell you I hate you, knock you out, and bury you in my backyard." You laugh.

"I mean, if you think about it..."

"It's the perfect plan. Invite the girl you've got a crush on over, assume she's gonna make fun of you, lure her in, then get your revenge." You smile, laying back on his bed.

"You just admitted to having a crush on me."

"Wasn't it obvious?" he asks. "I only ever threaten to kill the people I really wanna fuck."

"And do you really wanna fuck me, Bri?" you ask coyly, crawling dangerously close to him. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his long, graceful throat. "You wanna fuck me right here, right now, while your parents aren't home, make me scream your name while you blare your favorite metal record and act like things'll never change?"

"That sounds good," he groans. His hands wander up your thigh, and you smile, bouncing on his leg. "...I also wanna share my music with you. Read a book over your shoulder. Maybe pop a few pills, key someone's car, grab a milkshake and look at the stars on Special K so we feel like we're floating, you know. Before I bang the shit out of you. Date stuff."

"Is this not our first date?" you ask. His tongue flicks up over his lip ring again. 

"I guess you could say it is."

"Good. Cause I never fuck on a first date," you say, "Or so I tell people." He clenches his jaw, and braces a skinny arm beside your head, leaning down to capture your lips. His lips taste sweet, like mint and those sugary rocket candies. He takes his shirt off, and you rub your hands down, feeling a few scars. He lets out a whimpered noise at your touch, shuddering a little. 

You make out and grind against one another for a few minutes, your hands pulling his hips closer by his black belt loops and his fingers tangling your hair. Your breath gets faster as he grinds harder, more desperately, and you reach a hand down to help him out, give him something to rut against.

"You feel so big," you moan, and he runs a hand through his hair, lips falling open.

"I'm gonna..." He makes another desperate noise, and you feel it right where you need him. But since all his condoms in here seem to be used or have faces drawn on them in scented marker, you opt for over the clothes stuff only.

"Use your fingers?" you breathe. He looks like he's about to cum, and you know it'll tip you over as well, what with all the times you had thought of him like this.

He reaches into your jeans, unzipping them, and messily finds your clit. For a teenage guy, he's not bad. He starts to rub, then reaches three fingers down to thrust them into you.

"Fuck, Bri! Three?!" you breathe. He looks into your eyes, not stopping.

"I thought girls were whores for that kind of thing!"

"It's..." you moan, "That's... oh... y-yeah... Jesus...” He really start to work them in, watching your reactions while rutting his clothed erection against your leg. "Fuck, Brian, grab my tits... yeah... this is just how I imagined it when I..."

He freezes for a second, and his whole body convulses. He gasps, and you see him reach down to cover his crotch, face going beet red. He doesn't stop, though. He keeps fingering you, and now that he's not worried about grinding, he can explore you in other ways. He attaches his lips to your neck, and sucks a hickie right below your ear. 

“Brian... Bri, make me c--” 

"Cum for me, you filthy little slut," he snarls, and you arch your back up, grinding down into his fingers as your orgasm hits. You rock through it, and he kisses you again, sloppy and hot. When he pulls away, he gives you your fingers to lick clean, which you do through a heated stare.

Things calm down into you laying back against his pillows with his stringy body tucked in a cramped position beside you. "I didn't know you were that..." you search for words. "Experienced?" 

"What, you thought I was a virgin?” 

You giggle. “I didn’t know what to think about you, to be honest. Kinky, inexperienced, I had no idea. Of course, I hoped that you were kinky.”

“I’ve been known to use restraints when asked,” he smirks.

“I’ve got that to look forward to. I thought you were cute too, though. I don’t care if you’re some devil worshipper who parents and teachers everywhere shiver at the thought of." He's quiet for a second.

"I thought you were scared of me." 

"That too, a little bit. But what scares me turns me on." He rolls over to face you, a vulnerable position for him, you can tell. 

"The way I dress is what I perceive to be beautiful. Looking like this, doing what I want to, it keeps the assholes who like to give my face their own version of plastic surgery away if they think I'm a Satanist who's gonna... cut off their mom's head or something if they fuck with me. Makes the hypocrites who call themselves teachers question their morals too, ‘teaching’ someone like me to be a good little boy and follow society’s rules. It’s all brainwashing, everything they feed us with their sugar and shit, and I’m the bad guy for standing up to it." 

You stroke hair out of his face, and he looks up at you, lips pursed. "There’s always gotta be a scapegoat. I guess you fit that role.” You look beyond him. “You think it would ruin your image if those bullies found your poetry books?” He smiles. 

“Nah. One day, I’m gonna grow up to be a big rock and roll star. I’ll use my own poetry and turn it into music, and I’ll look ten times more extreme than I do now. Then they can all say they knew me, and I’ll tell them to go to hell.” 

You snuggle into him. "Mmm. Speaking of extreme... we should pull a Sandy and Danny. I'll come to school dressed all goth and shit Monday. Throw my friends for a loop."

"Does that mean I have to dress like a cheerleader?" he asks.

"You've got the ass for it."

He grins. "Stop it, you're making it very hard for me not to wanna fuck you for real right now."

"Here's the deal," you say, "I'll show you where I live this weekend. You tell me what your favorite fruit is, because that's a soul searching question. At that point we'll know each other better... and I'll be fair game."

He bites his lip. "I feel like I've known you forever."

"Yeah. Me too."

Just then, there's a knock at the bedroom door. Startled, you sit up quickly, and who you can only assume to be Brian's mom pops her head in. "When the fuck did you two get home?!" Brian blurts.

"About five minutes ago, honey. Don't worry, we didn't hear anything. Jeordie called, said he 'left the smoke bomb under the urinals.' I hope you aren't getting up to trouble like the last school, your father had a heck of a time getting you into this one.”

“Mom.”

“He had to switch jobs too, and with his back, you know how difficult long drives can be. Oh, how rude of me-- hello sweetie, you can call me Barb."

"Mom--" 

"Brian, is this the sweet thing you had that dream about the other night?"

"MOM!"

“Hugh, Brian’s got a girlfriend over, we should turn the TV up to give them a little privacy.” 

“GIRLFRIEND?!” a voice calls up, “GOOD ON YA, SON. THAT’S MY BOY!” 

“Jesus fucking Christ...” Brian groans, burying his face in a pillow. You laugh so hard into his chest you nearly tumble off his bed. Most dangerous guy in school, your ass.

[captainjanegay]

Where I’m Meant to Be | Stucky | Meet-Cute, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Kid Fic, No powers AU | Chapter 1 | 4.6k words | Ao3

Summary:

Bucky is a single dad coming back from a work trip with a very bored, very whiney 7-year-old girl. A mysterious stranger with a kind heart and a notebook full of doodles comes to the rescue.

A/N: This fic was supposed to be just a short one-shot for the Stucky Bingo but somehow, it's at 11k at this point and it's nowhere near done. I have two more chapters all done and ready and a vague outline for the rest of the story. It's my first time posting a fic chapter by chapter so it's both exciting and kinda scary. I hope you'll like the story enough to stick with me for a while. 

My sixth fill for the @stuckybingo2020​ ♥

.

At some point in his life Bucky didn't mind spending hours at airports and he found traveling —even work-related —quite enjoyable. But that was when he was young, stupid and alone. Now he's older, just as stupid and has a wonderful girl in his life. 

The girl in question is now standing next to him, little arms crossed and a sullen expression on her face. She's repeatedly kicking at the leg of the chair he's sitting on. There's no real force to it —she's only 7 after all —and she's not doing it to do any real damage to anyone or anything. It's just little taps, really and she's doing it out of boredom. But dear lord, Bucky's about to explode.

"Alex, sweetheart," Bucky says, slowly breathing out through his nose. "Could you please stop with that kicking? It's a bit annoying."

"But papa," she whines, drawling out the word. "I'm bored!"

"I know, love and I'm really sorry but papa’s gotta do something important for work," he sighs, trying to run a hand through her hair. She ducks and flops onto the chair next to him, an angry little pout on her face. "I have to finish it before we go on the plane. I'll do it as quickly as possible and then I'll be all yours, ok?"

It's not really surprising when he doesn't get an answer. With another sigh, he leans to the side and presses a kiss to the top of his daughter's head and then turns back to his laptop. 

From the very moment she woke up today, Bucky knew it's gonna be a long day. She was cranky and teary all morning, not wanting to say goodbye to Natasha and it took a good hour to calm her down. Then Bucky had to basically beg her to eat something before they left for the airport. It wasn't a great day. And Bucky knew she didn't do it just to make him miserable, she was just as frustrated and tired as he was. On top of that, he has to edit and upload a report from the conference and the airport Wi-Fi is so bad Bucky is close to tears himself.

The work would probably take less time if he wasn't getting distracted every minute or so and glancing to the side, making sure that Alex is fine. Or relatively fine, the bad mood excluded. At the moment she is slouching on the plastic chair, still pouting. Felicia—a pink stuffed Triceratops —is placed on her lap so at least Alex has something to occupy her for a moment.

Bucky tries his best to get through the documents quickly but he doesn't want to miss any errors either. He gets lost in the work for the entirety of about five minutes when he hears something truly surprising.

Alex laughs. It’s so unexpected after what seems like hours of complaining, crying and whining that Bucky’s head snaps up from his laptop and he looks at his daughter.

She is still sitting by his side, Felicia pressed closely to her chest and there is a smile on her face. It’s definitely not aimed at Bucky, though. So Bucky follows her line of sight and… oh.

It’s not like he didn’t notice the guy sitting across from them before. Because he did. It would be rather impossible not to notice this guy. He is tall and well-built and could look intimidating if it wasn’t for his bright blue eyes or tousled golden hair or the gentle smile or the fact that he’s wearing the softest beige sweater Bucky has ever seen. He is both ridiculously handsome and cute at the same time. So of course, Bucky noticed him before. But now he tries to figure out what about him made Alex laugh. It doesn’t take long, because the man is holding up his notebook, showing the page to Alex.

On the page are three little, cartoon-like doodles. The first one at the top looks unmistakably like Alex—her brows are furrowed, arms crossed and a little storm cloud is hovering above her. Underneath there’s his daughter again but this time she’s laughing, her eyes only small slits and a little sun peeks from behind the cloud. The last drawing, just next to the smiling Alex, is of Bucky. His head is partly hidden behind a laptop screen and there’s a look of utter concentration on his face. Above his cartoon persona floats a swarm of little gears, question marks and lightbulbs. Bucky snorts. It’s probably quite accurate.

Noticing that Bucky is staring at the drawing, the stranger startles and his cheeks turn red.

“I’m not some creep, I promise!” he starts explaining himself, before Bucky even opens his mouth. “I just—she seemed so upset and I’ve heard you said you have something important to do so I just wanted—Man, it’s weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry I promise I just wanted to help, not bug your kid without permission.”

“It’s not—,” Bucky starts, slightly taken aback. “It’s very sweet of you, actually. Thank you. Really, that’s just—I don’t mind. And Alex here seems to enjoy your drawings.” Bucky smiles down at his daughter and then at the stranger. His smile falters a bit and he sighs. “I’d really love to chat some more but I really need to get this shit done and the airport Wi-Fi is truly horrible.”

“Oh! Bad word!” Alex gasps, covering Bucky’s mouth with her little hand. “You said a bad word! No sweets for you!”

The stranger laughs at that and Bucky probably shouldn’t be as charmed as he feels right now. He just kisses Alex's hand and leans away from it.

“OK, sweetheart. Promise not to eat any when we get home,” he says solemnly. “But papa really needs to work a little longer, OK? Ten more minutes, I promise. Try not to bother the nice man too much until then, yeah?”

She lets a long-suffering sigh but she agrees.

“I’m Steve, by the way,” the man says, smiling at Bucky. 

Before he gets the chance to answer, Alex chimes in, “I’m Alexandra. And papa’s name is James but only mama and people at work call him that. Everyone calls him Bucky.”

The man — Steve — lets out a small laugh. “It’s nice to meet you both. Alexandra, do you want me to draw you something specific, while we let your papa work?”

“Oh, can you draw Felicia? She’s a...,” Alex furrows her brows in concentration, “tri-ce-ra-tops! That’s a dinosaur!” 

Steve leans forward from his chair and smiles at her. “She’s so cool! But weren’t dinosaurs kinda dangerous?”

“Some of them, yeah. They ate other dinosaurs. But the ones like Felicia only ate plants, so she’s cool.”

Steve lets out an attentive hum but something in his expression tells Bucky that it’s not new information for him and he’s just indulging Alex and letting her share what she knows. It makes Bucky feel a wave of sympathy towards this Steve guy.

Soon enough, a new page of Steve’s notebook gets covered with doodles of various dinosaurs, based on Alex’s jurassic knowledge—it’s a bit flawed, but Bucky is proud of her nonetheless.

It takes Bucky a few moments to stop sending glances towards the two. It’s partly because Steve—no matter how sweet he seems to be—is still a stranger. Steve might be bigger than him, but Bucky would end him if he tried to do anything to his little girl. But there are no red lights when it comes to Steve—and Bucky always prided himself on his ability to read people.

The other thing making it hard to go back to work is the fact that the scene he’s looking at is quite an adorable one. Both Alex and Steve are sitting at the edges of their seats, leaning over the passage between the two rows of chairs and their eyes are fixed on the notebook propped on Steve’s knee. They’re chatting, exchanging random facts about dinosaurs but since their knowledge is limited, they switch to talking about modern animals soon enough. Steve listens intently to whatever Alex has to say without patronising her. And sadly, Bucky has met a fair share of adults for whom it was impossible to take Alex seriously just because she was a kid. It calms Bucky enough to actually focus on his work for a little longer.

Some peace of mind does wonders for his concentration and the ten minutes he promised Alex are actually enough for him to finish editing the reports. The WiFi is still a bitch, though. However, after staring at the loading circle for what feels like an eternity, he is able to send the documents. With a triumphant little cheer, he turns off the laptop and slides it back into his bag.

Steve looks up at him and smiles. Alex completely ignores him, though, still too focused on whatever Steve was drawing. Bucky feels a bit betrayed. When she looks up, she glances at Steve first, probably to ask why the drawing has stopped and turns to Bucky when she notices Steve looking his way.

“Oh, you’ve finished the work, daddy?” she asks and when he nods, she smiles and reaches to wrap her arms around his neck. “It took you some time. But I’m proud of you.”

Bucky laughs at that, shaking his head slightly, “Thank you, sunshine. I see you were having fun with Steve while I was busy?”

“Yeah! Steve drawings are so pretty! He drew you riding a dinosaur!” Alex giggles, pointing at one of the little drawings.

Raising his brows, Bucky sends Steve a questioning look but the other man just shrugs and rubs at his neck. “It was her idea,” he says with a sheepish smile.

The doodle Alex is pointing at is indeed of him sitting on a dinosaur's back. It’s the one with the long, giraffe-like neck, Brachiosaurus if he remembers correctly. The cartoon Bucky’s arms are wrapped around the base of the reptile’s neck, his hair fluttering behind him and his mouth is open in either a big smile or a scream, he’s not sure. Either way, it’s a very cute drawing.

“Well,” Bucky says. “I’m not a fan of horses but I’d totally ride a dinosaur if I had a chance. Shouldn’t he have a saddle, though?”

It’s not even that funny but Steve still laughs and Bucky smiles at that. His daughter is less impressed or at least tries to appear so. She rolls her eyes but there’s a grin on her face.

“You’re so silly, daddy. They didn’t have saddles back then! And besides you’d need a very, very big one for a dinosaur!”

Bucky hums in agreement and looks up at the departure display. Noticing that their flight’s gate is open, he nudges Alex lightly.

“We gotta go, sweetheart,” he says. She perks up a bit but then glances at Steve with a small pout. “Sadly, we have to say goodbye to Steve. On the bright side, we’re gonna be home soon, yeah?”

Alex nods and slides off her chair. Steve looks up at the display and straightens up.

“Oh, my flight’s boarding, too. But you know what?” Steve asks and then rips the page with all the dinosaur doodles and holds it out to Alex. “You should keep this, if you want.”

Hearing this, Alex’s whole face lights up and she takes the drawings with gentle hands, as if afraid to mess it up. “Thank you, Steve! Those are so cool I’m gonna keep them forever!”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Steve smiles. He looks up at Bucky. “It was nice to meet you, guys.”

“Likewise. Thank you again for the help. It was very nice of you,” Bucky says sincerely.

“It was my pleasure. My knowledge about dinosaurs is so much better now,” Steve’s smile grows even bigger and Bucky chuckles.

Bucky leans to help Alex put on her little backpack, since she refuses to put down the drawing and then reaches for his bag. He rests his hand on his daughter’s back and turns to Steve one last time. He’s still sitting at the edge of his seat and is watching them. A smile is still plastered to his face and at this point Bucky is sure that it’s his default setting.

“Bye, Steve. Have a safe flight,” Bucky says.

“Bye, Steve. Thank you for the dinosaurs,” Alex adds, making Steve laugh.

“You are very welcome, Alexandra,” he says. “Have a nice day, guys.”

Bucky gently steers Alex towards their gate. Before they disappear behind the corner, he turns away to look at Steve one more time. The man is already looking back and he waves at them when he notices Bucky staring. Alex waves back enthusiastically and Bucky just ducks his head, feeling flustered all of sudden. He used to be more collected around nice, attractive people. And Steve definitely qualifies as both.

***

Some time later they finally make it to the plane. Alex flops down onto the middle seat and eventually — after a long discussion and promises that he won’t ruin it — she lets Bucky put the drawings she got from Steve into the folder he keeps his documents in. When the treasure is safely put away Bucky straightens to put his bag in the overhead compartment.

“Oh,” he hears a voice behind his back and a low chuckle quickly follows. “Fancy bumping into you here.”

Bucky looks over his shoulder and the surprise makes him try to close the compartment while his other hand is still holding the bag. He yelps in pain, making Alex look up.

“Steve!” she says with a smile, completely ignoring her father’s distress.

“Hello again, Alexandra,” Steve shoots her a quick smile and looks at Bucky, concerned. “You’re OK? I didn’t want to spook you.”

Man, he really got bad at keeping his cool around attractive people. Feeling a blush creep up his neck, Bucky nods. “No, no, you didn’t. I’m just a clutz, this happens a lot, ignore me.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at him but he doesn’t say anything more. For a moment they just stand in the narrow aisle, looking at each other. Finally, Bucky’s ability to think kicks back in and he moves to the side.

“Sorry, you probably want to get through to your seat.”

“Actually,” Steve says and glances down at the boarding pass in his hand. After checking it, he points to the seat by the window, on Alex’s other side. “That one’s mine.”

“Oh,” Bucky looks at the seat and then at Steve. His cheeks still feel warm for some reason but he hopes he's not blushing too visibly. "That's great. I'm just gonna—"

Bucky shifts to the other side and takes a step back, making room for Steve.

"You're flying with us back home?" Alex asks with a hopeful glint in her eyes. "Will you draw something more for me?"

"Alex, come on. Don't abuse Steve niceness like that," Bucky scolds her gently but before he can even finish the sentence, Steve starts shaking his head.

"It's fine, don't worry about it. I often doodle when I get bored anyway so I'd be honoured to draw for you again, Alexandra," Steve grins at her.

She actually lets out a little happy squeal when she hears that and Bucky's heart skips a beat. He's absolutely charmed by the way Steve treats his daughter. He really seems like entertaining some random little girl is the best thing he could be doing and while Bucky - absolutely objectively - thinks that Alex is the most wonderful little girl in the world, it still seems unusual. And he positively melts every time that Steve uses her full name, just because that was the way she introduced herself the first time. Most adults Bucky knows don't do that with other adults, not to mention kids. And Steve is just so… kind and genuine, it takes Bucky off guard but it's a really nice surprise.

"Ok, fine," Bucky says with a smile. "You have no idea what you've brought on yourself. Is it possible to strain your hand from drawing too much? The flight's almost two hours, right?"

"Does your dad always complain this much?" Steve asks Alex and she giggles in response. He sends Bucky a glance over her head and he has a smirk on his face. Ignoring Bucky again, he says to Alex, "Hey, have you ever watched Sesame Street? There was this one grouchy green guy."

Bucky just sends him his most unimpressed look. Steve doesn't seem affected. Alex is delighted. And in truth, Bucky has to bite the inside of his cheek to contain a smile.

It turns out that on top of being nice and lovely, Steve is also a little shit, because he draws a Bucky-version of Oscar the Grouch - with a grumpy expression and wild hair, sitting in a garbage can. It's actually amazing. Bucky doesn't say that out loud, but he snorts when he sees it, so that might betray him a little.

This time — prompted by the mention of Sesame Street — the conversation resolves mostly around animated movies. To Bucky’s surprise, it turns out that Steve is a huge Disney fan. He doesn’t even try to hide it. Not to brag but Bucky knows his way around animated movies — partly because he has a 7-year-old daughter and partly because who doesn’t like animated movies? But compared to Steve and Alex? He knows nothing. They use names he doesn’t even recognise - who or what even is Flit? Judging by Steve’s drawing it’s some kind of a bird, apparently. When Bucky can’t remember — he knows it, of course, it just slipped his mind — the name of the redheaded princess from Brave, he is given the most disdainful look he’s ever seen. Both by his daughter and by Steve. Bucky still tries to participate in the conversation, at least for as much as they let him. He never expected his own daughter to team up with some stranger against him. It hurts.

The pain is all forgotten when Steve and Alex start quietly singing Under the Sea from The Little Mermaid together. Bucky can’t help a laugh that bubbles from his chest at the sight. How is Steve even real, Bucky has no idea. He is over six feet of muscle, his bicep is bigger than Alex's head and he could probably bench press Bucky and here he is, sitting next to Bucky’s little girl, drawing a picture of Megara, because she’s his favourite Disney princess and singing a song from The Little Mermaid.

This guy can’t be real.

About half an hour into the flight it turns out that Bucky was wrong — Alex does leave Steve alone but it’s only because the tiredness catches up to her and she falls asleep. And she’s sleeping with her head resting on Steve’s arm. It’s a really nice arm, Bucky has to admit, a nap on such an arm would be good and comfortable even for him, probably. But that doesn’t change the fact that he feels left out.

“Sorry,” Bucky says quietly. “You probably want your arm back, I can just—”

He offers to move Alex’s sleeping body but Steve just shrugs with his free arm, careful not to jostle the girl.

“Don't want to wake her and I really don't mind," Steve says, smiling at Bucky.

"You sure?" Bucky asks and after getting a nod in confirmation, he chuckles and shakes his head. “I keep trying to figure out where the catch is but I’ve got nothing. You’re just naturally this kind, aren’t you?”

Steve barks out a laugh and then slaps his hand over his mouth to quiet the noise. He looks down to make sure he didn’t wake Alex.

“Oh there’s plenty wrong with me,” Steve says with a chuckle. “For one I’m usually really awkward around kids. Alexandra’s such a great girl, though. But I do like to help and try to be nice whenever I can.”

Bucky narrows his eyes at Steve. “You think you’d side-track me by complimenting my daughter? You’re totally right, but that doesn’t mean I’m not curious.”

With an exaggerated eye roll, Steve makes the ‘bring it’ gesture and grins. “Come on. Hit me with your best guesses.”

“OK. OK, fine,” Bucky says and shifts in his seat so he can look at Steve more directly. Crossing his arms, he asks, “Do I have a limited number of guesses?”

“It’s not that long of a flight,” Steve shrugs with one shoulder, grin still in place.

In a theatrically thoughtful gesture Bucky strokes his chin gauging Steve with his eyes.

“You… secretly work as a hitman” Bucky says slowly, “or like, an underwear model. Which is not a bad thing to do.”

A blush creeps up Steve’s cheeks as he laughs again. “Those are… pretty far off. Why those two?”

“Well, you’re built appropriately for both from what I can see,” Bucky explains, enjoying the way Steve cheeks go darker. Maybe he’s not so helpless at talking to attractive people as he thought. It feels a whole lot like flirting.

That terrifies him for a moment. He didn't do flirting in what feels like ages. He doesn't have time for this. Should he even do this? He has a daughter, he shouldn’t just—

Bucky takes a deep breath and smacks himself mentally across the head. He’s not doing anything bad. He’s just talking and having fun with an attractive stranger. Maybe even flirting a bit. And that’s OK, this is allowed, he doesn’t have to go anywhere else with that. It’s not like he’s ever going to see the guy again, anyway. Natasha would punch him for denying himself that. So he will make sure not to mention it the next time they talk.

“Well…,” Steve rubs the back of his neck. “I am not. Hitman or— I’m neither of those. I’m actually an illustrator. Mostly freelance stuff. I paint sometimes, too. But that’s mostly for fun.”

“OK, fine. Somehow I can believe that. You seem like an artsy type,” Bucky agrees.

“No hitman vibes anymore?”

“Who says a hitman can’t enjoy painting in his free time?”

Steve laughs, throwing his head back. Somehow he manages to keep the left side of his body completely still, mindful of Alex sleeping on him.

“I don’t know if there’s a point in trying to convince you, but I’m really not.”

“Sure. Probably what a hitman would say,” Bucky waves a hand at him but smiles. “That’s cool though. Being able to get paid for doing what you love.”

“It is. Sometimes you get frustrated enough to hate it but it’s still pretty cool,” Steve agrees. “You don’t like your job?”

Bucky scrunches his nose, making a non-committal sound as he tries to find the best way to explain. “It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s fun. Interesting, exciting, sometimes frustrating as hell, too. And the responsibility can be incredibly stressful. It’s just…  I never took time to think about what I really like doing in life. And since the job was good enough, I just stuck with it.”

Steve hums, nodding along to Bucky's words. "It's never too late to figure it out, you know?" he says. "I mean, I don't wanna impose and tell you how to live your life or anything. I'd never. I just— I think it's an important thing to know."

"You might be right," Bucky agrees. He glances down at Alex. "I don't think it's a good time for me to experiment, you know? Besides — if there's one thing I know for sure that I like it's having this little rascal around."

The smile on Steve's face turns soft. But only for a moment, before it turns back into that smirk he had earlier. "Any guesses left? About my dark side?"

"A few," Bucky grins. 

It's a bit of a lie because he really struggles to see Steve as anything but perfect but he can try. It's just a game they're playing to kill time after all.

"You are that kind of guy who can eat garbage food and not move a finger and still look like you've just walked straight out of a gym. I hate those people. It's so unfair."

"Are all of your guesses based on how I look? I kind of see a pattern here so far."

Bucky opens his mouth to protest but there's something in the way Steve looks at him, with a raised eyebrow and one corner of his mouth quirked up that makes him close his mouth without a word. He might be blushing. Maybe he's being too forward. It's probably not appropriate to talk about a stranger's body this much.

Before he gets the chance to apologize, Steve answers, "And you're wrong, again. I like working out. Takes my mind off things, helps me clear my head when I need that. Besides I used to be small and sickly my whole childhood. Couldn't even play with other kids for too long without getting an asthma attack. So I'm kinda compensating for that," he jokes.

"Really?"

"Yeah. All pointy elbows and bony knees."

"Huh," Bucky says. "Bet you looked way cuter than me when I had my bowl cut. We all had our dark moments."

Steve laughs again and Bucky really enjoys the sound of that. He really enjoys Steve's company in general, which is weird considering they've just met. It usually takes him much more time to get comfortable around people. Maybe it's the fact that they'll go their separate ways as soon as the plane lands makes it all easier.

"I'm kinda disappointed, you know?" Steve starts after a moment. "I thought you'd guess at least once. Or at least would be more creative with those."

"Who says I'm done? It was all on purpose, I was just assessing, gathering intel. I'm a scientist, I don't know if I've mentioned that before," Bucky points a finger at Steve. "You've got to be methodical about stuff."

Raising his hands in surrender, Steve tries to keep a straight face. He fails miserably.

"I wanted to say that you secretly hate dogs or cats but that would be just too harsh," Bucky says. "I don't think you're a monster."

"I love dogs," Steve confirms. "Always wanted to get one but my flat's too small and I doubt that'd be good for a dog. I don't have anything against cats but I feel like they don't… like me that much."

Bucky chuckles. "I feel like there's a story there."

"Just— My friend Sam has a cat and she absolutely hates me. I can't leave my phone on the table cause she pushes it off, but she doesn't touch Sam's. Every time I'm there she follows me around and hisses at me for no reason. She peed in my shoe more than once," Steve says and tries to look hurt when Bucky starts laughing. "It's not funny! I haven't done anything to deserve this. I tried to bribe her with food, I tried to pet her but I only got scratched for my efforts. And she doesn't do that with anyone but me."

"So that's your dark secret? That your nemesis is a cat?" Bucky asks with a grin.

"It's… definitely true."

“Can’t say I’ve seen that one coming,” Bucky laughs.

Steve shrugs with one arm. “I’m full of surprises.”

Clearly, Bucky thinks, shaking his head at the other man.

.

Title: Wrap me up (in your love) Creator(s): niallhoranbitches Card number: 065 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745402/chapters/67911988 Square filled: B2 - Airport Rating: Teen and Up Archive warnings: None Major tags: Meet-Cute, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Kid Fic, No powers AU Summary: Bucky is a single dad coming back from a work trip with a very bored, very whiney 7-year-old girl. A mysterious stranger with a kind heart and a notebook full of doodles comes to the rescue. Word count: 4591 

[markedforruin]

The Forest Lawn Mill Mystery Prologue

So here’s a small thing I wrote with Jeffery Mason and Sage Wilkinson. Will it be continued? most likely. When? who knows lol 

Reminder that Jeffery Mason as a character is solely owned by David Near, and I am in no way affiliated with him and this is just a fanwork. Nothing crazy. Go listen to his audios on youtube if you haven’t!

Story here:

It hadn’t been more than a few days since Sage had begun talking to the new kid at school.

He was kind of weird. 

He had albinism but dyed his hair black, as if he didn’t stand out enough as is. Apparently he thought black hair combined with his extremely pale face would help him blend in, but he was already hanging out with the class goth so… Sage doubted that. 

Maybe “hanging out” was an overstatement. They had been assigned a group project, and they talked a lot, but they hadn’t hung out outside of school hours. Maybe if they did, Sage would get to know Jeff better, and they could stop complaining about math class and talk about things they liked. 

“So uh… Are you doing anything after classes?” Sage was so bad at making friends, but they had to try. Jeff seemed like a cool person after all. 

“Why?” Jeff’s almost monotone voice broke through the silent school library. 

“Because I was thinking maybe you’d wanna hang out more? We can come over to my place… You could meet Beetle?”

Jeff gave his classmate a sideways glare. “You got a pet beetle or something?”

“No! No, it's a horse! He’s a horse. His name is Beetle.”

Jeff chuckled a little, covering his mouth with a fist. “That’s the weirdest horse name I’ve heard of.” He admitted. 

“But it’s not the worst! My parents own a riding school so we live on a huge farm property, and trust me, some folks have horses stabled there with even worse names.” Sage laughed, finding his phone to look up the site his parents had made. 

“Here, look-” He shoved the phone in Jeff’s face, leaning all into him.

“What the fuck- Post Stallione? Like Post Malone?”

“yeah. He’s a fine horse but his name is…”

“That’s so fucking cringe, Sage.”

“I know!”

They had a small laugh, but fell silent again quickly.

“So… Is that a yes, or?”

Jeff sighed audibly and loudly.

“I don’t know.” Was his reply. Sage thought he wasn’t going to say more, but he released a breath and opened his mouth again.

“We’re still missing some furniture at my house, and I don’t think my dad would like you, so… Fine. Fine. I need a fucking break from that house anyways…” He mumbled that last part.

“Is your dad homophobic?” Sage tapped their pencil on the paper. The numbers were swimming around on the page, and they’d resorted to doodling their horse instead of doing math. 

“Honestly I think he’s just ignorant, but he’s real fucking annoying about it. Barely knows what a transgender person is, let alone someone like you.”

Sage turned to look at Jeff, and the boy looked back.

“Because I’m nonbinary?”

“yeah.”

Sage huffed mockingly. “When I meet him-”

“IF.”

“WHEN I meet him, I’ll look him in the eye and say “Nice to meet you ma’am, you must be the housewife! you’ve birthed a fine young son, i am glad to be his friend.””

That had Jeff laughing, and Sage joined in. 

“I’m not opposed to mocking my dad, that’s for sure!”

“And I’m not above kicking down the ego of dads like yours.” Sage bowed dramatically. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll come home with you, then. You’re fucking hilarious, Sage.”

Sage clicked their tongue. “Thank you, I know I gave a stellar performance.”

Fastest way out of Forest Lawn was the school bus, which meant they were surrounded by lots of noisy teenagers.

Both of them wore their earbuds to drown it all out. Sage leaned over to look at Jeff’s phone. 

The boy leaned away clearly not wanting to share his screen.

“What are you listening to?” 

“Nothing you’d like.”

“Try me.”

Jeff offered an earbud in silence. 

What came out the other end was… Oh hey! Emperor!

“Oh symphonic black metal… Good taste dude.”

Jeff looked back at Sage with almost googly eyes.

“That’s new.”

“What, somebody liking the same music as you? Dude I listen to metal too, look at me!”

“I’ve been looking at you since we were assigned that group project, Sage.”

“So?” Sage snatched Jeff’s phone to add some music to his playlist.

Jeff shrugged, and let Sage take over his phone on his watch. 

Their stop was the very last, and as they hopped out, the only things around them were trees and gravel paths.

“It’s not far from here, just gotta go up this way.”

Jeff followed along silently, not protesting. 

“What do you think about Forest Lawn so far?” Sage looked back at Jeff. 

“You want an honest answer?”

“Yeah, I live right outside the town, I don’t care what you think of it.”

“It’s fucking horrible, honestly. I hate this town.”

Sage nodded thoughtfully.

They made it to the main driveway, and the Wilkinson’s riding school property slowly came to light.

“People say the town is cursed, y’know.” Sage unlocked the main door and waltzed inside.

“I’m not superstitious. Also where’s your parents?”

It was a bit too quiet in the house. 

“They’re working until 8 pm, and also they’re both very superstitious so they’ve told me a lot of stuff about the town.”

Sage led Jeff upstairs to their room and threw the school bag they’d carried on the floor next to his desk.

They motioned for Jeff to sit on the bed. It was pretty big, so Sage joined him. 

“Ok, spit it out, tell me.” Jeff seemed pretty eager to know about all this. 

Sage cracked his knuckles. “Let’s go, then.”

They both got comfortable, and then Sage began.

“People talk about Teenagers and young adults being brainwashed by radio static, and children keep reporting this “man in the woods”, also there’s rumors floating around about the abandoned Mill close to here… It’s complicated. Around 30 years ago Forest Lawn saw the biggest disappearance of children ever over the summer. None of them were found, until 5 years ago, when one single naked woman was found passed out on the highway with her leg torn open. Her DNA showed that she was literally one of the children that had gone missing.”

Jeff intently listened, not a noise escaping him as Sage told their story. 

“She’s still in psychiatric care at Pinehearst State hospital. Last update the public got from her was that she was adamant about some “tall man” that took care of everyone, which is the exact same thing children are saying today too.”

Sage paused for a moment.

“The Mill, though? man that’s a crazy story. It’s locked up and apparently age old paint on it from like… the 1800’s that says “plague, stay out” was painted on. It’s kind of close to here but I’ve never visited because you can’t get there by car, and going on horseback is at least a whole day’s trip.”

“I wanna see that mill, are you serious!?” Jeff was officially invested.

“What if there are dead bodies in there or something, dude? no way!”

“Uh, yes way, you didn’t strike me as a coward.”

“Group pressure doesn’t work on me Jeff.”

“Group pr- we’re two people, man.”

Sage crossed his arms. “I bet you don’t even know how to ride a horse.”

Jeff shot back at him. “Fine, then teach me.”