#last photo is actually a gif of my favorite human

[gennianydots]

Suuuuuper late to this. tagged by @thedaughtersoflilith to post my lockscreen, last song listened to, last photo of a celebrity saved, last photo taken and last photo saved.

[hawkland]

Art Masterpost: The Beginning Story by emmbrancsxx0 (@valleydean) Art by sidewinder (@hawkland)

When I saw an endverse story up for claims in this year's @deancashorrorfest — particularly one exploring the beginnings of how it all came to be — I knew I had to get my grubby, greedy hands on it. When I found out it was written by none other than @valleydean, I may have made some hqppy screeching noises to rival Castiel's true voice. Getting to do art for one of my favorite writers is always exciting, if sometimes anxiety-inducing, but I ended up having an absolute blast working on these with Mallory and am really happy with how they turned out. Thank you for being such an amazing partner to work with, and I'm so excited for everyone else getting to read the story now!

Thank you as well to @kingdumbass for organizing Horrorfest once again, and creating one of my favorite little Destiel communities on the net. It's always a ton of fun and I love how you keep the server going & engaging year round.

Some rambling comments on the art & my process below the cut.

As usual these were all done in watercolor with a little bit of black & white acrylic pen work for fine details and lines. I used rough/cold press paper for all of these to keep a consistent feeling and because it's always my favorite for doing any portraits and where I want a lot of blending control.

The hardest thing for me was deciding which of the many memorable scenes and moments I wanted to illustrate in the time I had available. I had a pretty clear vision for the title art early on: to show Dean & Cas at the beginning of it all, with a collage of elements of destruction behind them and doing the title text in the "Croatoan graffiti" style. There were a bunch of different reference shots combined for that one: screencaps from 5x04, a later-season shot of Dean & Cas walking together to get their positions how I wanted, etc. My Cas "face" reference was actually from Stonehenge Apocalypse as I wanted him looking a little more human/hopeful than standard s4-5 Cas as he's pretty low on grace but still has a little "angel mojo" left.

(As Mallory commented when I shared it as a WIP, "That's a man who's about to be destroyed!" :D D:)

I'm also really glad I was able to get the painting to Mallory at DC-Con! You can see in the pic that it's pretty big (16"x20") to get all that detail in!

For the next piece, there's a small scene of Dean and Cas on the road under smoke-filled skies, past a "God Saves" billboard that just struck me. I'd just driven out to Pittsburgh and back on the PA Turnpike so used some quick reference snaps I took combined with photos of the hazy skies from the Canadian wildfires earlier this year to get the atmosphere I wanted. I tried to keep some of the same washed-out colors and feeling of the title piece for that, save the color of the sky.

For the rest, I wanted to do one piece each of Cas and Dean at critical moments in their journey through the story. Cas facing himself in the shattered glass of a pharmacy cabinet was a moment I knew I had to try to capture. It reminded me of that amazing shot of Misha in Gotham Knights, with Harvey and the smashed mirror, so that was definitely in my mind as a visual reference.

Cas himself is a combination of some Purgatory screencaps and some out-of-character Misha pics from here and there to get his hair the way I wanted it to look (even if I ended up painting over most of it with interference silver watercolor to create the effect of the shattered glass. Here's an in-progress look:

The Dean rooftop piece is one I'd had in my head as soon as I read the passage in the story, but it was the last piece I tackled. The city in flames behind Dean was pretty much done in one shot as a spontaneous wet-in-wet wash...though it was a little eerie and unsettling working on it this past week with current events playing out on the tv while I painted.

Finally, I really wanted to do a piece showing Dean and Cas as they are near the end of the story compared to how they started out. This one came together in a really fast burst of inspiration - I think one day drawing and two days painting because it's smaller than the others (12"x6") and I wanted it to be really close up and intimate. Drawing:

Poor boys have been through a lot. And it's only going to get worse )-:

Anyway, that's more than enough from me. Have you gone to start reading the story yet? If not, go there now! Bookmark! Read! Leave lots of love in the comments! Reblog and check out the rest of this year's Horrorfest collection while you're there!

[owlisbuffering]

A Study in MC

Genre: fluff, introspection?, pre-relationship

Pairing: Satan x reader/MC (who is not present)

Word count: 2051

Summary: While retrieving your belongings from the Human Realm, Satan gets more glimpses into who you are and reminisces how his perceptions of you have changed.

Notes: reader/ MC is gender neutral; memories/ flashbacks are in italics; this is my first fic in years, be gentle with me

Cross posted on ao3

Satan scowled and directed a rude gesture at Lucifer as he walked through the portal. It promptly closed behind him and he closed his eyes, releasing a deep sigh. A satisfied smile grew on his face and he turned slowly, taking in his new surroundings.

Though you'd been in the devildom for quite some time already, it had only now been determined that someone ought to retrieve some of your personal effects from the human world. It may never have happened at all, but somehow Lord Diavolo had learned about "homesickness," and he immediately determined that measures must be taken lest the dreaded ailment befall the precious human.

Thus, Lucifer had you compile a list of items you wanted along with their locations, and Satan was tasked with retrieving them. Lucifer would have taken it upon himself, but Lord Diavolo needed him to compile reports for an urgent last-minute meeting. That meant he had no choice but to assign one of his brothers to the task, and though he was loath to admit it, Satan was really the most reliable option. Mammon would undoubtedly steal some of your things to attempt to sell them, Levi and Belphie were out for obvious reasons, Asmo would probably go through your closet and drawers and post everything to Devilgram, and Beel would empty your kitchen.

Naturally, Satan was affronted when Lucifer informed him how he was to spend his afternoon and argued, citing a distinct lack of consideration of his time and schedule and how huge an inconvenience this would be. Truth be told, it was entirely for show: Satan was intrigued and thrilled at the prospect of seeing your home, especially your room. A person's room said a lot about them. Sure, he was intimately acquainted with your room in the devildom, but really it was only just starting to become yours rather than just the room you were staying in. In contrast, now he'd get to see the room you'd lived in for years, that you'd arranged and decorated and filled with things that you chose, everything coming together to paint a unique picture of you: your habits, your hobbies, your tastes. Yes, Satan was eager to say the least, but he wasn't about to let Lucifer know that.

The portal had deposited him in what appeared to be your living room. It looked much as he had anticipated, and as he surveyed the room, an array of pictures on one wall caught his eye. He approached them for a closer look, and to his satisfaction found it was a collection of family photos, many of which featured younger versions of you. He couldn't help a chuckle as his eyes fell on a baby picture of you having a bath, conveniently censored with a washcloth. He snapped a quick photo of it with his DDD, plus a few of some of the other photos, then turned his attention to the list.

Almost all of the items you wanted were located in your bedroom, aside from a few bathroom items and your favorite mug. Instead of any actual descriptive terms, next to "mug," you'd simply written "You'll know it when you see it." Interest piqued, he headed to the kitchen. Glass panels in the top cupboards removed the guesswork of which one contained the mugs, so he opened it and began perusing the surprising assortment your family had stowed. There were many novelty or souvenir mugs, ornately patterned ones, and some with humorous or snarky sayings, but none of them really struck him as befitting you. Then-

"Hello, what's this?" He reached into the back corner and withdrew a mug adorned with the original illustration of Alice talking to the Cheshire Cat from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, along with the quote "Well, I've often seen a cat without a grin,' thought Alice, 'but a grin without a cat is the most curious thing!" A closer examination showed that the cat seemed to be a slightly different color than the rest of the design. Curious, he moved to the faucet and ran the hot water. After deeming it hot enough, he filled the mug and waited. Sure enough, as he watched, the Chesire cat's body disappeared from the picture, leaving behind his smile.

Satan was elated! This alone was worth the trip. He found himself wearing a grin to match the pictured cheshire's as he dumped the water out and dried the mug, then carefully stowed it in the travel bag he'd brought to hold your things. It was enchanted to hold as much as he needed it to, as well as to ensure nothing would break or get damaged, but just to be safe he placed another spell on the mug itself to protect it.

As he moved toward your bedroom, a memory from early in your acquaintance came to mind:

You were staring at him again. This had been happening with great frequency as of late and was beginning to get on his nerves. He'd just finished discussing the most recent exam with the Devildom History professor; the fool had completely bungled the dates of the Brimstone Treatise, and while it was a more obscure event, wasn't accuracy part of this demon's job? But, ever the gentleman, he kept his polite smile on his face all through the infuriating conversation and now presently turned this smile to you.

"Is something the matter, MC?"

For a moment you just kept staring, your head cocked slightly to the side. Satan's irritation was on the verge of morphing into flat-out anger when you finally responded.

"You're a Cheshire cat."

That was unexpected. He managed to keep his smile in place despite his suprise, but just barely. "I beg your pardon?"

"I can't help but think of the Cheshire cat when I see you. I've watched you with plenty of different individuals, in all kinds of situations- flirting, debating, ordering, teaching- and you've always got that smile. If I didn't know any better, I'd bet it would remain if you vanished...which makes me wonder: how would you look without it?" You gave him a small half-smile, then grabbed your schoolbag and left the classroom. 

Ironically enough, that's when the carefully crafted smile fell from his face.

That interaction was a bit of a turning point in how he saw you. If you actually wanted to see his genuine expressions, then it wouldn't be a stretch to assume you wanted to know what he actually thought. And if that was the case, then couldn't it also be hypothesized that you cared what he thought? And so, he decided maybe it might be worthwhile to test his hypotheses. For research.

At the door to your bedroom, he paused with his hand on the knob. Why did he suddenly feel nervous? How odd. He took a deep breath to settle himself, then opened the door.

The room was in dissarray. Not messy per se, but perhaps a somewhat organized chaos, not too unlike his own room without the towering stacks of books. No sooner had he thought this than he felt his foot bump something. Looking down, he saw that a small stack of books had tipped onto his shoe. As he bent to right them, he discovered no less than four more book stacks of varying heights near your bed, with another five books stashed underneath the bed, nevermind the two large bookcases you had, both completely full. He let out a loud laugh at his discovery, only for it to turn into a gasp when he heard a plaintive "Meow!"

How could he have forgotten?! He knew you had a cat; he'd seen pictures and heard stories about it. He'd just gotten so caught up in his other discoveries about you. But there on your bed, curled up on what appeared to be an over-sized nightshirt was your cat, blinking at him blearily.

"Did I wake you? My apologies. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you."

The cat stretched and sniffed Satan's offered hand, then meowed and gave it a lick. Satan sat on the bed next to the cat, making a mental note as he did so that your mattress here was a bit softer than the one you had in the House of Lamentation. The cat got up and climbed into Satan's lap, sniffing his jacket.

"I brought new smells with me, didn't I? You probably smell MC on me, too, don't you? Yes, MC and I are very.......good friends." he finished lamely.

To be honest, he wasn't entirely sure what term fit the two of you currently. You'd gone on dates and flirted often, but he didn't think you two were considered a couple. He wanted to be, and if the brushes of fingers and lingering gazes were any indication, so did you.

Your cat started purring loudly while Satan scratched its chin. "MC says you always slept with them. That's probably why you're curled up on their pajamas, isn't it?"

He glanced over at the nightshirt and had to smile again. Now that your cat had moved, he could see the design: a person sitting on top of a stack of books, reading, with the caption "So many books, so little time."

He held his bedroom door open, granting you entry. Technically, you'd been inside a few other occasions, but they were very brief instances. This was the first time you were able to actually gawk and really take in the sheer magnitude of books Satan had. Staring at the towers the many stacks formed, you moved forward slowly, so thankfully you managed to catch yourself before toppling one. Satan turned his back to you and rolled his eyes, waiting for the inevitable remark about the clutter and precariousness of the state of his room that everyone seemed to feel obligated to make upon spending more than a few moments inside. When it didn't come he turned to look at you.

"You're not going to say anything about my too many books or how I choose to house them?" he asked with some impatience.

You didn't even glance at him, still staring around his room with a look of awe and reverence. You gave an appreciative little nod. "I get it."

He felt warmth creeping into his face and had to turn away again.

Satan shook his head with a small smile. You got it, indeed. Slowly looking around your room again, much the same way you had done in his, he was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to see you. Best to not take too much time so that he could return to the House of Lamentation about the time you'd be finishing your tasks for the day.

He looked down at your cat, reluctant to lose the feline's company. After some quick mental math, he determined he could allow himself three minutes to indulge himself. Once the three minutes were up, he heaved a deep sigh and gently picked the cat up and placed it back on your bed, then set about gathering the rest of the items you had listed......and some you hadn't: all of your books were put in the bag. Even if you didn't necessarily wish to have them, Satan intended to borrow them. As he collected the items he made sure to give your cat a scratch or a pet every time he passed it. He was sorely tempted to bring the cat with him, but you had foreseen that and had emphasized in no less than three places on the list, in all caps and with ample exclamation points every time: "LEAVE THE CAT!!!!!!!!!" Honestly, he still may have brought it had he not had the realization that if he did, the cat would undoubtedly monopolize your cuddling. While you and Satan may not have been quite to the point of cuddling, he did not wish to make it any harder upon himself to get there, nor could he help the mild jealousy that arose.

Finally finished, he sent Barbatos a text saying he was ready, gave the cat a final scratch and bid it goodbye, and walked into the portal that opened a moment later. A small, sincere smile stole across his face at the thought of returning to you.

[nrdmssgs]

Your reminder to be self-indulgent

This blog is not my first experience in writing. However, this one is the first, where I deliberately stay as self-indulgent as I can. Even, if it seems cringy, even if there are people out there with other preferences and perspectives on my favorite characters. This was my personal goal, and today I've found the reason behind it, a real one.

A bit of backstory. Some time ago I've moved to another country. The last months before moving were crazy: there was a shit ton of packing, paperwork, organizational work, stresses and so forth. I knew, Im not going back. What I didn't know was that life would turn out in such a way that with a high probability I would not visit my hometown in the next 10-15 years (maybe longer). Sadly, I didn't have a chance to say a proper goodbye to my hometown. I wish I could just have a free day to roam around familiar places: to sit on a bench, where I had my first ever kiss, to visit my school and university, to walk in park, where I shared my first ever beer with a friend, to look into the courtyard of the house where I spent the first years of my life, maybe to take some photos, so that I have something, reminding me of those places. But it is what it is, and sometimes you don't have any free time during a few months.

This night I had a very comforting dream. I was once again in my hometown. There is a cinema theater in the very center of our city. It is a huge building with a massive concrete canopy (so massive, you can actually walk on it). Although you are not allowed to climb there - there was a way to do it and 20 years ago that area was not strictly supervised, so I've done that in my school years with my friends. So I see that canopy, remember the good old days, climb and walk along there. Then I hear someones voice. "You ok there? Need help with coming down?". I look down on a guy. Never met him before, but his face looks somewhat familiar. He looks up on me with confused eyes, yet a wide happy grin. Such a sunshine of human being. Obviously a tourist, not familiar with this place. "Nah, m fine, just hanging out here." But I climb down just to not let the guy down and ruin his day. "See? it's quite easy, if you know, where to climb." I start walking away, but he follows me and asks if I could show him any cool places around. "Only if you have a few hours, mate. Im planning quite a journey around my hometown." But this doesnt lessen his enthusiasm, he is quite happy to just hang out and see whatever I have to show him. And for the first time I dont care, that he is a tourist and I have to show him some museum/palace/fontain. I just... go through all those places, Ive originally wanted to say goodbye to, when I was leaving, not caring, he could find them insignificant. I dont tell him the real reason behind every place, we visit. Instead, I just joke around, I whistle my favorite songs, I feel free to yell at the driver who almost ran over us in the alley, and I treat my new friend with sweets that he can only taste there. And he encourages whatever I do, just lets me have a good time and is genuinely happy to be around. We visit many places I miss dearly.

I woke up today with my cheeks wet with tears of joy. This happened like 2-3 times in my life. Im just so happy, I've finally revisited all those places and by my side was someone, who just let me be myself. And only later, when brushing my teeth, Ive remembered the face of that guy. "Wait a minute, it was you all the time?" It was so funny, I didnt recognize him in my dream.

So how is this little story connected to self-indulgence? I believe, that by tinkering a safe space for yourself with your favourite characters and interesting for you personally stories, by revisiting this space on a weekly basis, you train your brain to always make some place for comfort. A place, where you can express your feelings and worries freely (even if this place is your own dream). Of course, I`m not encouraging anyone to replace professional help with fanfiction. But I think, this works really well as one of many-many instruments to maintain some peace of mind. So please consider this as your reminder to stay self-indulgent. It helps, it heals.

Oh, and regarding a guy from my dream? Yep, him.

[yunarim]

our rainbow-coloured days will advance forward, so shine forever

❤︎ summary : Yuuka, a completely ordinary magicless girl, finds herself in an incomprehensible predicament. Soulmates appeared in the human world only a few decades ago and still have many inconsistencies, but Yuuka's case, to her dismay, becomes rather unprecedented.

Apparently, her soulmate is waiting for her somewhere beyond this world. ❤︎ tags : female reader, soulmates, reader is yuu, sfw, fluff, pining in some chapters, one character = one soulmate prompt ❤︎ ao3

ִ    ꕤ 3 o'clock kiss | Deuce Spade

⏤ . . . prompt : if one of the soulmates scribbles or writes something on their body, the written messages appear as a short-lasting tattoo which can’t be erased on the other soulmate’s body ⏤

Deuce sighed, taking the last kinda disrespectful look at math formulas and test examples. Sleep deprived, he closed the books lying on the table, bewailing he hadn’t started his test preparations earlier. Sure, Ace did mock him, trying to convince he’ll fail marvelously, and Deuce, grasping all his stubbornness pride, actually tried to study beforehand.

He even asked Yuuka for help! His quick-witted and ever so smart best friend who was approved by his own dorm leader regarding her academic performance — even Yuuka condemned but still agreed to help. 

“I can’t do this anymore, even Riddle isn’t so strict on us,” Deuce complained, taking his phone out of his pocket and opening MagiCam in order to take a quick break. “How could it be possible you know so much about our world being from another one?!”

“I guess math is a universal thing,” Yuuka took a fleeting glance at Deuce but was quick to continue writing something in her copybook. “And logarithms aren’t that hard to solve.”

“Maybe you’re right…” Deuce stumbled on a quite interesting picture in his MagiCam feed, going silent for a mere second. “But you know our world history and herbology! Is there something you don’t know?..”

Yuuka sighed, suddenly stopping writing. Deuce’s gaze lingered on her, observing a little frown on her face and a subtly bitter smile.

“What my soulmate bond is,” she answered, resuming her work, her features looking unfamiliarly soft in a dim library’s light. “Many of you at least have marks on your bodies or something like that… Ahem, anyway, keep on distracting me and I’ll tell Riddle everything.”

“Hey!!” he pouted at her statement but then his voice suddenly became much quieter. “I haven’t figured out my soulmate bond either…”

Yuuka pretended she didn’t catch his last phrase, her eyes locked on the logarithms exercises Deuce grew to hate wholeheartedly. 

He tapped twice at her photo he saw on MagiCam. Uploaded two hours ago, right when they took a little break between their studying session. He found himself in the background, lamenting over a math task she gave him as a warm-up and she was giggling cutely, the small grin she used to present whenever she was having a good time turned into a genuine smile, her teeth showing slightly.

Gloomy, viscous feeling fettered Deuce’s chest when he took a peek at her once more, his gaze on her slightly parted lips with her favorite cherry-flavored lip gloss on them were enchanting enough for the boy to bite his own ones. 

It was excruciating, falling in love with a person from another world while neither he nor Yuuka herself did know who their soulmates were. It’s not like a death sentence, yet still Deuce didn’t feel right at the thought of dating someone before his real soulmate appears. 

Maybe Yuuka felt the same at how frequently she was bringing up the soulmate topic over and over again, waiting for her own to… Deuce didn’t know, maybe materialize themselves? It was agonizing. He wanted soulmates to be gone forever. 

Or he to be hers. 

“I presume you already did this page? Let me check then.”

“Argh, sorry! I’ll be quick!” 

“I’d rather you be more attentive while we’re studying. I’ll be upset if you fail.”

“Oh no I hope I don’t fall.”

Yuuka wondered if he really recalled her telling him this meme of her own world and was there any double meaning, but in any case it was already late and they still had a lot of exercises to solve.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

Deuce couldn’t sleep that day. He passed out of fatigue, Yuuka’s image was haunting him even during the night, but he could manage. Her cherry lips, curving into an adorable smile he got used to love dearly, was the only thing he was thinking of, brushing his teeth in the bathroom. 

“Oh Sevens!!”

Deuce didn’t catch a sudden cry at his left at first, but then glimpses of ginger flicked in the mirror reflection, and the boy finally collected himself, turning to his upperclassman. 

“Gwud mrning, snpai,” he mumbled, being not so successful in keeping his eyes open. 

“What’s with these horrible eye bags? A total flop.”

“Ugh…” 

Deuce stared at his own reflection, observing his own appearance. Cater was right, he looked absolutely smashed, his usually healthy skin turned pallid, eye bags exceeding Idia’s ones in their deep dark hue.

“It’s an important day for first years, right?? I heard from Yuuka you have a module math test today.”

“We are, indeed… Oh. Wait.”

Deuce forgot he skipped a whole section of that god damn logarithms absolutely shamelessly as he mentally apologized to Yuuka for abandoning his pride and breaking promises he made. What could his mother think of him now? But letting down Yuuka meant even worse, so there wasn’t much choice left for him.

“C-cater-senpai,” soft pink of embarrassment dusted his cheeks. “Please don’t tell anything to Yuuka. Or Riddle. Actually both of them.”

“Heheh, what is it?~”

“Do you… Ugh, do you know any tips on cheating on tests?..”

“Oho~” Cater smiled slyly, but double checked whether Riddle was nearby nevertheless. “Here’s the way…”

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

Hell with you, my soulmate, Yuuka thought, watching Deuce peacefully sleeping in the library. The pages of the textbook on which he laid his head were mercilessly crumpled and bent, but this no longer bothered anyone.

She was observing his features, her gaze lingering on his long eyelashes for god knows how long. His hair was a mess, but a cute mess, and it was almost unbearable — being unable to run her hand through the silky strands which were shining in the dim lights quite astonishingly. 

“Hey, so absolutely beautiful.”

She wondered if Vil observed her behavior around her best friend and got an inspiration for this particular part of the song — which of course wasn’t true at all, yet she didn’t care as much, being fully bewitched under Deuce’s inadvertent charm. 

She sighed once again, hiding her face in her hands. It wasn’t right. It was absolutely not normal for her to develop these indescribable feelings towards her best friend. Somehow it didn’t feel right to deprive Deuce of his yet-to-be-revealed soulmate, and there was her own, too. 

Yuuka thought, maybe, just maybe, if he would agree, would they curse their soulmates together and just laugh at the whole situation? Well, it’s not like everyone finds their predestinated ones. There are a lot of people who just don’t care about soulmates or love at all, correct? 

She clenched her school shirt in her fist, shaking her head and trying to make those thoughts disappear. She was in no position to decide such things.

Deuce smiled through his sleep, giggling almost soundlessly, and she cursed mentally once again.

Hell with you, my soulmate, she repeated, covering Deuce with her jacket and letting out a small sigh.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

She was almost the first one to show up in the classroom despite Grim complaints. Ortho was there too, and they shared a few conversations about little nothings as Yuuka opened her copybook once more, deciding to revise materials before the test. 

It was a little bit chilly today but not as much as it was yesterday, since the winter already changed to spring. Sun shone especially bright, so Yuuka thought it would be a nice variety to her outfit choices, so she decided to wear black nylon tights. 

Suddenly an itchy feeling caught her off guard. The prickling sensation on her thighs, as if a cat scratching a scratching post, made her wince in disrelish and click her tongue. Shit, she thought, cursing to herself slightly. Of course Sam didn’t have decent quality tights for girls in his stock! But still, why was it itching so hard she was losing her concentration? 

Scratching feeling suddenly stopped, and Yuuka brushed it off like it was nothing, straightening her skirt and returning to the copybook she was looking at. Epel entered the classroom next, and Yuuka actually saw him talking — more like getting lectured, but anyway — to Vil before he walked to her. 

“Fighting today, girl,” he said, raising his thumbs up. “You got this test, queen.”

“I hope you do too! Good luck, bro,” she gave a little smile to him as he nodded and proceeded to his desk.

Other first years came, and even Ace dragged out Grim from her dormitory, and yet Deuce was the only one missing. It wasn’t late, he still got a couple of minutes but still Yuuka worried if he overslept and forgot… no, definitely no. 

As her worries started to accumulate right under her ribs, the door slammed loudly and Deuce entered, catching his breath when he realized professor Crewel still hadn't come. Deuce ruffled his own hair, looking tired but absolutely adorable in Yuuka’s eyes, making her jolt on the chair. God, not now…

“Ah, Yuuka!!” he went to her and she noticed something in his hand. “I-I’m sorry I’m late… But at least I’m here!”

“Dude, it’s not like she herself will be our teacher for today, why’re you stuttering,” a smug expression on Ace's face wasn’t doing any good, but they both decided to ignore him. 

“H-here, you said a little bit of sugar is good for brain activity…”

Deuce handed her a chocolate bar, almost crushed down in his strong grip but Yuuka fell silent for a mere second. She treasured how Deuce was attentive to her, almost giving up her ‘strong and independent’ persona who didn’t care as much, always making friendly jokes about how he cared for her. It just couldn’t be. No, she prohibited these stupid feelings herself, she…

She was going crazy, that’s it.

Ace sighed at their mutual pining and wanted to suggest they talk and sort their feelings, but professor Crewel came to the classroom, straightening his pointer and clearing his throat as he started speaking.

“Good morning, pups. I hope you won’t ruin my expectations today.”

Deuce exhaled loudly to that extent that Yuuka heard him by her right and almost felt his nervousness through the air.

Crewel explained the rules, though nothing new was said, and the students began to write down answers or at least doing something. Yuuka felt confident, the tasks were so easy she could solve them with both her eyes closed. 

She glanced at Deuce really quickly, observing how he was doing, and she saw a glimpse of perplexity on his face. It wasn’t good. She wanted to reassure him but talking during the test was prohibited, not mentioning Crewel already was giving them a look which only Yuuka managed to notice. She was in his good books, but still she should not have neglected his indulgence. 

She finished early, knowing she did well, so there was no point in sitting here. She stood up, catching her answer papers, and moved towards the teacher's desk, wondering why there were so many glances aimed at her. She always was the first one to complete the tests, so what is so novel in today’s one that she gained a sudden burst of attention?

“Yuuka,” professor Crewel did not sound satisfied with her and this is where her worry began to escalate rapidly. “Would you be so kind as to answer me one little question, pup?”

“Yes, of course?..” she half-asked him, furrowing her brows.

“I believe you’re not the person to cheat on tests. Care to explain what’s that on your thighs?”

Yuuka looked down at her legs and dropped the papers she was holding, then screamed in pure horror. 

log 8 (0.125), 1 ÷ 8 = 0.125, log 8 (0.125) = −1

(7.389) = log e (7.389) ≈ 2

10 -2 = 0.01 ⇒ log10 0.01 = -2 (or) log 0.01 = -2

x m ⋅ x n = x m+n

log a m n = n log a m

What the hell. No, what the actual HELL. 

She was trembling, not knowing what to do. Covering her legs? No point, everyone already saw her. Starting to make excuses? She wasn’t cheating, why apologizing?! Why was she even feeling guilty in the first place?!

Yuuka felt a dark, strong feeling filling her vessels and making it hard to think of anything. 

“I… professor, I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Pup, I never said I’m blaming you,” Yuuka felt genuinely relieved and mentally made a note to thank Crewel later somehow, as she was sensing a father figure in him. “I’m just wondering how you didn’t notice someone scribbling notes on you.”

“It's because no one actually scribbled anything on me…”

“Huh?!”

Everyone was gossiping now, their test all forgotten, but Yuuka heard Deuce out of them all. Crewel smashed his pointer at his desk, making everyone keep silent.

“Return to your test, pups!” He turned to Yuuka again. “I accept your answers, don’t worry, just go and wash away all of these. We’ll discuss it later.”

Yuuka did accordingly only to discover she couldn’t wash it away. At all.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

Deuce found her on the school rooftop a few hours later.

She was staring at the cloudless sky, sun still shining brightly as it was in the morning. Her soft features were overshadowed by today's event, to which she never found an answer. 

“So, you’re saying you are the clue to resolving this case?”

Deuce sat down next to her, almost touching her hands with his fingers. She noticed him, of course, but remained silent, pursing her lips and not daring to look at him. Just what would he think of her now, after all things happened? Does he doubt her abilities now? Or even worse, does he hate her?

“Yes, sir, it was me who cheated.”

He was ready to receive his punishment and he actually accepted it. His test was nullified and he must rewrite it later, but now his top priority was another thing.

He glanced at her thighs, noticing familiar handwriting, his own handwriting, and swallowed in confusion, not realizing whether he was filled with joy or despair. She was his soulmate. There’s no way his own test answers and tips magically ended up being on her thighs. Deuce wanted to check his own theory but couldn’t bring himself to speak as she suddenly broke the silence first.

“Deuce… Am I disgusting to you now?”

“No!!” He was so quick to answer that she jolted, turning her head towards him and meeting his gaze full of worry. “I just!! Let me explain…”

“Okay?..”

He dragged a pen from his bag and stared at his hand, then turned to her, observing her wrist as she felt warm on her cheeks. Then he scribbled something on his hand and touched her own, bringing her wrist to her face so she could see it clearly.

And she gasped.

“What the…”

“I… tried to cheat on the test,” his eyes averted from hers, since he was extremely embarrassed by his actions. “I couldn’t bring myself to confess to you that my head was occupied with something else and not the test. And when you stood up and I saw familiar notes… Not gonna lie, I freaked out.”

“B-but…”

“Yuuka, I’m so sorry for betraying your trust and putting you in this hellish situation.”

He looked her right in the eyes, flushing furiously, his grip on her hand was still strong, but not painful. She didn’t want to admit she liked how it felt.

“Are you saying… this is some kind of soulmate bond?..”

“I believe so, yes .”

And he didn’t want to admit he’d be devastated if she says it’s just ridiculous. 

“Explains why I couldn’t wash away those… lame cheats of yours.”

Never in his life her chuckle was that pleasant.

“Oh Sevens, Yuuka, I’m really sorry, I almost thought…”

“Actually, can you shut up for a moment?”

Before he could protest she exhaled deeply and pressed her lips to his, her gentle fingers running through his soft hair and making him mumble something inarticulate, but he was quick to finally embrace her. She felt so right, being enveloped in his hands. He chuckled through the kiss, ignoring her nagging and saying he was ruining the moment, but none of them actually cared, quickly returning to each other’s lips. 

He gently caressed the small scribble he put on her wrist, deepening the kiss and forgetting he had another test to rewrite. She will be here to help him, and she knows it too.

‘log me (you) = ♡’

❤︎ notes :

song : 3 o'clock Kiss - Rokudenashi

also i shamelessly cross-posted this from ao3 so maybe i'll change the formulas into... well, formulas, but for now let it be

me and my friends kinda had that thing when i was a school girl, i mean we used to scribble notes on our thighs and then peep on them whenever we went to toilet lol actually it didn’t work but it was fun writing them

© yushiiae 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.

[maplesunflowers]

Okay have you ever bitten someone as an adult

have you ever found a dead body or its remnants

Favourite tea

Carrots or cucumbers

When was the last time you climbed a tree if you ever have

Would you beat you in a fight if you were fighting yourself from 5 years ago

Those are some oddly specific questions there Heam….you aren’t working for the Feds, right?

I’m willing to answer them on the basis of the honor system…just this once. 🧐

1. I almost said no until I remembered that I did in fact bite my friend for a Tokyo Ghoul photo shoot like, 7 or 8 years ago (They were Kaneki and I was Rize

Here’s the picture if you’re curious. I blocked out my friend for their privacy.

2. I’ve never found any HUMAN remains, but I’ve found plenty of animal bones. The coolest one I’ve ever found was a deer spine while my friend and I were taking cosplay pics of our OCs in the forest behind their parents house

3. Oh God 😖, I had to really think about this one because I’m actually not super picky when it comes to tea, but I got some tea from a local small business back in October that is 👌😩✨💕, but THIS ONE is my favorite that I got from them.

4. Carrots 🥕

5. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever climbed a tree now that I REALLY think about it. I wasn’t a super reckless kid growing up plus I get really bad vertigo if I’m too high up/ off the ground.

6. Lol no 😂, but me from five years ago couldn’t beat present me up either. Literally our fight would just be this the whole ass time:

[adaptive-radiation]

I posted 2,066 times in 2022

That's 2,066 more posts than 2021!

61 posts created (3%)

2,005 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@bandtrees

@teeth-kid

@gr33nthund4rf4n

@evilneo

@atlcscp

I tagged 1,845 of my posts in 2022

Only 11% of my posts had no tags

#art - 323 posts

#deltarune - 109 posts

#video - 108 posts

#kind - 76 posts

#yeah - 65 posts

#pink to blue means i love queue - 61 posts

#sdfghjk - 53 posts

#sj - 52 posts

#advice - 47 posts

#nichijou - 45 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#because i feel that this is the sort of idea where you put away some ideal and lose hope in it but then take the matter into your own hands

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Look in his mouth

LITTLE BEAKY.

3 notes - Posted May 17, 2022

#4

Hey what's up its Aayushi!

old urls: photoelectric-effect, maggie-tullivers, freaking-out--is-my-okay

Other information: marmots are cool

3 notes - Posted May 16, 2022

#3

Glad the Aztec calendar oreos post is going round again

Some of my other favorite iconic Tumblr posts would be

"I go through the 7 stages of grief when I get out of bed" "What are the last two?" "Denial 2 and Astral Projection"

"Decrease the increase" "Who's that saultry little binch on the bottom left" "This post is less than 1℅ away from being totally incomprehensible"

"You may ask yourself what? And you may ask yourself, huh???"

3 notes - Posted September 23, 2022

#2

How to Be a Human Being is not a musical but aghhhhh it sort of reminds me (conceptually, not musically/in terms of the sound) a little bit of 35MM, a musical where each song is inspired by a different photo and has a different subject, cause each song in HTBAHB is also about a different character and is big on visuals

I love both album and cast recording and I really like snippets of different people’s lives as a premise and I also really like photography :D

3 notes - Posted November 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

God damn the JOKES on the Spamton Sweepstakes page the LORE the fact that apparently RTVS of all people acted in the stream video? And apparently it’s analog horror?? Toby Fox just never disappoints

15 notes - Posted September 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

Thanks to all my mutuals for staying on for some reason and especially the three people on this site who've actually managed to put up with interacting with me, @everyday-is-brighter-with-you @bandtrees, and @starthenarrator. In a moment of sappiness I will say I'm really grateful to have had you guys in my phone and my life!

[ortegajasmin]

Blog Post #1

Hi, my name is Jasmin Ortega and I am an 18 years old. I am hispanic as is the rest of my family, my mother was born in NYC as well and had lived there her whole life while my father was born in a small village in Mexico, he eventually moved to NYC in his early teens where he met my mom. My name origin is extremely basic and unoriginal and does not have a specific or meaningful origin, my parents just chose it because they liked the sound of it and thought it was nice. If I had the chance to change my name to a fictional character I would probably pick the name Diana, taken from the fictional superhero Wonder Woman, Diana is Wonder Woman's real name. The reason why I would choose this name is because of how important Wonder Woman is in the DC, she is one of the titular characters in the Justice League being one of the founding characters alongside Batman and Superman. 

High school was a bit of a blur for me. I remember that my first day of high school was very anticlimactic and nothing like the movies. I went in extremely nervous to be in a whole new world with a lot of older kids and honestly speaking the first day was a little overwhelming by how many people there were and how big the school was, but after the first day I got used to it and was pretty bored by it. I actually did not go to school on the last day, I had graduated the day before and I decided not to end up going on the actual last day. On my physical last day of school I did not do much but get ready for graduation and say goodbye to my favorite teacher one last time. My favorite moment of high school would usually be when whenever I had gym on specific days and was able to go out with the class and meet up with my friends in the other gym class, it always made the class period that much better.  My least favorite moment would have to be when I had a falling out with an old friend from middle school, leading us to never speak again. If I could do it all over again I would probably go about it by putting myself out there more and trying to make more friends and by also trying for more extra curricular activities. 

 Currently, I am in my freshman year of college, in my second semester and my major is Psychology. Truthfully speaking, I chose this major because of a crime tv show called Law and Order: SVU. The show is about detectives solving cases revolving sex crimes, occasionally on the show they would have a psychiatrist come on to the show and give his professional opinion on the cases and criminals to help solve the crimes. Watching this show and the psychiatrist work to identify motives and reasonings behind a criminal and their crimes was fascinating. This essentially led to my interest in true crime and the way criminals' minds work, it also led to my interest in the human mind as a whole and why we do what we do or feel the way we do. With this major one specific career path I am interested in is of course a criminal psychologist, the other career path would be a child therapist. What essentially inspired me for both of these careers is my want to understand the mind and how it works for specific groups of people as well as helping those who need it. 

I unfortunately do not participate in any recreational activities, I never got into them when I was younger and so I never gained an interest in them when I got older. For my interests and hobbies I would say I have pretty basic ones like reading, playing video games, spending time with my family, listening to music, and watching movies and shows, but if I had to pick a semi interesting interest it would have to be taking pictures of the sky. I never miss the chance to take a photo of the sky, day or night, when it looks pretty and memorable. The main reason for this is because I think it is something that is nice to look at and look back on. 

The last movie I watched was Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones and the last show I watched was a rewatch of Cobra Kai. For movie and tv show recommendations it would be The Boys on Amazon, That 70s Show, Teen Wolf (mainly season 3), Back to the Future, Ready Player One, and Scott Pilgrim vs the World. My favorite film and show are both from my recommendations, The Boys and Scott Pilgrim vs the World. Both pieces of media have great stories and comedy in my opinion and the latter has amazing original music. My least favorite show would have to be a netflix original called Ginny & Georgia, I am just hate watching it at this point, but I would be lying if there weren't moments that absolutely had me laughing. There has not really been anything I have created, no original pieces or nothing. And if I were to pick my last meal to have on my last day on earth it would be tortas. Tortas are some of the best sandwiches my mom has made, they usually include beans, mexican cheese, ham, eggs, hot dogs, and breaded chicken. Now reading it may not seem appetizing but trust it is absolutely amazing and I would absolutely want nothing more than to have a torta as my last meal. 

[eddieandbird]

Takeoff

Summary: Joseph and you are traveling home

Warnings/Tags: fluff|f!reader|

____

It is way too early for me to even feel human. You, however, have been up for a couple hours already. Showering, changing and making sure all of our bags are packed. I love how well you take care of me, Sweetheart. I swear without you, I’d forget my belongings everywhere I went. You’re kissing me good morning and pleading with me to go get ready. I tease you and pull you back into bed, getting a quick cuddle in before we go through the chaos of our day.

After my turn to get ready, I watch you start to get giddy. You’re holding on to both of our suitcases. I refuse to let you do everything yourself and I take mine back. In the Uber, we’re sleepily looking through our phones, giggling at all our selfies and photos we took while we were here.

Speaking of photos, we’ve barely made it to the airport and you’re already demanding that I take silly photos of you around all the decorations here. I don’t mind. My phone is already flooded with your goofy faces and I still want a million more.

I’m usually not a fan of airports when I’m there by myself. The clock works slower and I grow tired of people watching, waiting to board. But you make it look like a cool hangout. I love watching you linger around the cafe inside and try to make friends with strangers. You are so sweet trying to make small talk with them. You don’t care how silly you look dancing up and down the halls. You tell me “I’m never seeing these people again, I don’t care,”. I love your confidence and your ability to lift my spirits.

Finally we’re boarding. This is actually my favorite part. I love how you squeeze my arm, because you get startled during takeoff. I place your head on my shoulder and kiss it. I know it won’t be long before you’re falling asleep on me. After your quick nap, you see that I’m watching a film on my iPad. Without you asking, I put one of my earbuds in your ear so you can cuddle up and watch it with me. You turn this crowded plane into our own private theater. You make me forget where we are, that I laugh loudly at the film. You giggle and cover my mouth to remind me not to disturb the passengers. Even things as mundane as this, you make me feel like we’re the last people on earth and I absolutely love you for it.

[hensunrik]

the universe would never say no to a lorenzo photo dump 👀 give in to your urges for the better of all the 2-3 lorenzo truthers

You called, you enabled, I provide 😌

Starting off with the basics but this is The quintessential Lorenzo pic for me he is sitting there hot, glowing skin, perfect hair, carved little dimple because the devil is in the details and the devil wants people me to get a heart attack noticing said details, little proud ''these are my silly goofball little brothers and I will dedicate half of my social media life to shout from the rooftops how proud and supportive of them I am'' smile, impeccable vibes, perfect human specimen, 10/10

(Also the fact that he is the only one who was 100% ready and posing and looking the best in this photo. This is the true eldest child taking subtle revenge experience)

Then there are these which I would like to call ''gay or european vibes intensifying''

(The last one looked me in the eye and told me in sassy cursive font that I know Nothing about la Dolce Vita and I respect that)

(More under cut because this turned obscenely long and I would like to spare the dash)

Another favorite genre of mine which I call Thank you Mediterannean sun for your service (+ jules ❤️) (and also the last photo should be giving Linkedin profile vibes but he somehow still makes it work)

He was talking about his family putting his butt in a go kart here (quoting his actual words) but his face and hair did not get the memo and kept serving Homme magazine):

Another lefrères compilation that tells me two things a) he is a short king at least comparatively and b) he does not wax his legs 👀 something I personally love to see

And last but not least of course everyone's favorite, the paddock photos:

This one above is a personal fave of mine they look so happy and giggly! Little mice family I am very fond of you

Also Lorenzo looks like he gives really good hugs :((

Some more of my favorite paddock photos here because this man can rock the serious at work look (and I also love how the possibility for trademark dimple showing up is never zero)

In conclusion Lorenzo Tolotta-Leclerc, the man that you are!

Thank you for the patience and sitting through this presentation 🙏

[luxthestrange]

Mc's Flirting with The Demon Prince

This image is inspired by this past quote! For All you Diavolo Lovers

Inside the demon lord's castle, Inside Diavolo Office LilD2 comes in with another box, Diavolo feels his eyes light up as the small box with a note attached to it "For My Sunshine in Hell-Anonymus"...He knows it is his dear 'friend' mc sending him trinkets they found in their adventures within the Devildom or Human world, His Favorite so far right now: Some Rock they told him they found pretty, A picture of them in a photo booth, a playlist with human world love music, a zombie iguana.

He took the box from the little demon who winks at him with the last comment "From you know who~" as he left, only for Barbatos to enter as he left, patting the little demon as he left the office, Barbatos looks at Diavolo who paperwork is long forgotten now as he shakes a mysterious box and goes to open it...

Dia: Oh my!*Grabs the item and sets it on his head*Another one for the one that got wet and broken!*gleams happily*

Barb: Is that another gift from them? My lord isn't it time you talked to them about their courting towards you?*Smiles at him but closes his eyes, Doesn't want to be blinded by Diavolo's gleam*

Dia:...I did...actually*Remember's back last week*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~FLASHBACK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Diavolo finishes his work late at night, ready to head to his bedroom...only to be surprised by a trail of rose petals and candles leading him a path to his...bedroom door? Out of curiosity opens it...the room is dimly lighted, and the curtains are out of the way to allow the moon to light the room along with the candles on the furniture...as his eyes land on his bed...There on his sleeping robe, Which fits too large for your small frame...at least covering the most important parts is you...laying on your side looking at him, toying with a petal in your fingers...Well this was a pleasant surprise

Dia:...Mc...are...are you perhaps flirting with me? Or is this a human custom? I*Hopeful that it's flirting*🥺😳

Mc: what makes you think I’m flirting with you?

Dia: why is my bed surrounded with rose petals and why are you in my robe

Mc: don’t change the subject*Mc posing for him*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END FLASHBACK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dia: After that...they proceeded to lecture me about going to bed so late and they made me lay on my bed next to them, with my head on their chest in my bed as they told me "Shut Up and go to bed"...I'm confused*Sadden look*

Barb: My lord...*bitting his inner cheek to hold in chuckle*Perhaps it would be best to be bolder with them also, Humans are finicky so perhaps it does you well to try to corner them for some answers...Maybe look for advice from someone who knows about human culture*Hinting toward Solomon*

Dia:...*eyes light up again as he stands up*YOUR ABSOLUTELY RIGHT BARBATOS!I WILL SEEK HELP FOR ROMANCING HUMANS FROM THE BEST!

Before Barbatos could stop him, Diavolo runs out of the office to head into the house where the one who will be able to help him in his need for human courting, If he wants to show you he is serious about wanting to be with you he would love to know the proper way to show his feelings...

At the House of Lamentation? WAIT WHAT?

Dia*Barges into Leviathan's room*LEVIATHAN TEACH ME YOUR WAYS OF HOW TO COURT A HUMAN!?

Levi*Shrieks as he is grabbed by Diavolo*

[pizzaapplecheese]

Stop consuming Hetalia. The creator is a nationalist fuck who denies Japanese war crimes against Korea.

I haven't watched Hetalia in a long while, and only recently reread the Manga, so I don't know why you are telling me this. The last post I made of Hetalia was like 3 months ago and the rest is mostly Omori and Sonic.

Secondly you do realize that you can consume media while knowing a creator is a bad person, like I can watch Miraculous Ladybug and still acknowledge that the creator is sexist, racist, and classist.

Plus it is not like his believe have a large effect on his work since Korea barely shows up in the series he haven't even shown up since 2011, that is like over a decade and he never shows up again in series. This is ignoring the fact that the characters do not actually represent the countries, they are just humans who happen to be immortal, they have to work for their bosses for all of eternity even if they don't like it (mostly seen with Germany, complaining how his bosses are unreasonable in the Manga).

I am not denying the fact that Korea was treated poorly in this series, he only shows up in sexual harassment jokes (like France before the reboot) and to make fun of. There are times where he was pretty funny such as destroying Japan's flag and using it in the most disrespectful way possible (ie. Making it into a mat, a shirt, and destroying for fun) and being chill WITH BEING BURNED ALIVE FOR SOUP, however as I said earlier most of Korea's traits in show have been overshadowed by how he just sexually harass characters, mainly Japan and China. There is so many wasted potential with his character which was all left to rot. An example of this is that Korea is shown to be extremely insecure about himself, when China looks at Korea's photo album he notices that Korea tends to over photoshop himself, in another strip it is shown that Korea is photogenic and no matter what you do he always looks good in a picture

This all happens while he is asleep by the way. He looks like this and still believes he should photoshop how he looks, it is not like he did this to any other photo that doesn't have him in it either. He just photoshop himself. Honestly, I like to think that this is a reference to how Korea gave the highest rates for plastic surgery, but it is probably a joke on kpop. Another time I can think of Korea's insecurities is when he stole Japan's mind reading goggles, he used them on China finding out that China actually hates him, though he creates a front and says, "these goggles don't work therefore Korea did not make them", but when China gives him toys (because they were creepy and China hated them, not because he likes Korea) he starts crying.

It is clear that he subconsciously thought that China hates him a lot, like there is no other explanation to why he cried when he got them. Though in this time around it is kind of ambiguous if he actually believes the giggles don't work or is in denial again, it is hard to tell. Though in my opinion he does seem upset and a little disappointed on what he hears and denies the fact again.

It is pretty clear that Korea have issues on how others perceive him. Though besides that whole thing he also have missed opportunities to interact with other character, the only one I seen him interacting with other than Japan and Korea is HongKong, which is actually my favorite Korea (as well as HongKong) interaction, since in this one he acts like a human being and not some pervert who believes he owns the world or something. Like look at this

Ignoring the fact that it is implied that they do hang out, what made him was that he was about to beat a game character and that he is wearing a jersey, like you can tell he is panicking because his Seoul is shown to be panicking as well. Then HongKong just overhears it since Korea is not a subtle person at all and decides to do this

The comedy isn't made to make fun of Korea or sexual harassment, it is just how Korea and HongKong interacts with eachother that is funny. I honestly wish Korea was treated like this more rather than what he was usually treated as in the Manga.

Anyways to summarize my point. You don't tell me what I should or should not watch, especially when I haven't seen said show for a few months now. Informing is fine by me, but saying I can't watch a show at all is just ridiculous. That being said, that doesn't mean I don't agree that Korea is treated badly as a character and that he have so many missed potentials because of it.

Sorry that this took so long to post, I am a busy person.

[regrettablewritings]

Hi!😁 I'll give you another ship with my dear Lucifer morningstar from Lucifer cuz as it turns out I'm a hoe for a lot of characters but what can ya do? Thank you!

Aw hell yii, somebody's talkin' my lingo! 😎

Who the fuck put the Peeps in the microwave?: Lucifer. And no, it's not because he actually likes them or is curious about what would happen; he's seen plenty of Youtube videos enough to know exactly what happens. No . . . It's far more malicious . . . Generally speaking, you don't like the constant comparison of cats to the devil. But after getting to actually meet The Devil, you think that those believers might be on to something. Lucifer's whorey ways bleeds into his need for attention like red bleeds into white in the wash, and he's completely shameless about it. For example, if he feels like you may be focusing too much on work or, gasp, other people besides him, you run the risk of encountering a very . . . mischievous Luci. Not that he's not already a prankster, but he somehow becomes a bit more childish. Catlike in some respects. He puts your mugs up higher than what you can normally reach without having to climb on the countertop. He joins you at your kitchen table while you're reading over files for work and puts on his most angelic face, insisting he just wants to keep you company and will be as quiet as vermin in Dear Old Dad's house . . . then proceed to obnoxiously click a pen while pretending to solve a word problem, or eat cheese puffs obnoxiously loud. And then . . . the Peeps: The absolute prettyboy bastard used your microwave as a casualty of war, plopping the unplated, mutant-colored marshmallows directly on the glass and letting them go. To be fair, it technically didn't ruin anything. But at least he had your attention now -- because after fussing at him for making a mess, you were currently supervising him scrubbing not only the effected areas of the glass dish, but the rest of the microwave as well. Unfortunately, you can't say a lesson was really learned because now Luci knows that if he wants to get a rise out of you, what he needs is a bunch of candies from the bargain bin.

Who forgot to put the cat out before sex?: It's not that either of you forgot the cat was there -- it was that Lucifer wanted the bloody animal to give the both of you some privacy. And because Lucifer forgot the cat was there. He was simply too busy embracing you in a liplock and laying you down on the couch to notice the glaring eyes of the cat you had rescued from the shelter. Thankfully, you two didn't get very far before the lovingly-named Lucipurr released a meow, indicating that he had become flesh and bone in the few hours it had been since you'd last fed him. Suffice to say, after a startled Lucifer flung himself off of you and onto the floor, nearly breaking his ass on the coffee table (and the laughing fit that had induced on your end), the mood was killed. For the next fifteen minutes, that is. The next time he tried anything, Lucifer made sure that his efforts would be continued in the bedroom (but not before he did a complete check of every nook and cranny in there to make sure the furry bastard wasn't trying anything).

Who posts Vines/TikToks of the other doing embarrassing shit?: Lucifer absolutely lacks boundaries. The moment he discovered smartphones, social media, and all their potential, he was all in and recording as many videos of friends and coworkers as he could in as many awkward or unideal situations as they came. You felt bad for Dan being his constant target, but you were somewhat sure that Dan felt bad for you in a way: After all, you were dating the freaking guy and yet Lucifer had few qualms about posting a video of you, drunkenly singing karaoke in what was supposed to be a private room? Harsh.

Who breaks the most phones?: Lucifer does. He's not necessarily careless, but his part-time occupation does lead him to circumstances that tend to put his phone in danger. You, Chloe, Dan, literally everyone has told him to just leave his phone in the car if he's going to get it broken that often while on the job, but the dumbass never learns. Not that he really seems to care all that much: With his wealth, he can always buy a new one. Though, the only times he gets frustrated is when photos or videos don't quite make it to the transfer and things get lost along the way. Funny photos, suggestive videos, photos and videos of you . . . Photos and videos of you being funny or suggestive . . . Downright pornographic videos he had recorded of you -- Though don't worry: He's sure you'll be more than happy to help recreate the latter. He'd gladly help you . . .

Who dies first?: It should go without saying. It really should. But that doesn't make it hurt any less. Lucifer was always one to get caught up in his indulgences, after all: Somewhere along the way, he must've gotten too swept up in the thrill, the feeling of adoration. He tells himself this but it's really just denial. Closer to the truth is that it all really was just denial: He denied the idea that you would ever leave him, that you would ever die. Luci was never good with his own thoughts and feelings, but the way you made him feel was nearly enough to convince him that, in some way, you would just plain live forever. But of course, this was not the case: It didn't matter that you were fantastical enough to love and be loved by the Devil; you were still very much a human. Very much mortal. So susceptible to things like time and illness and injury. Lucifer was the King of Indulgences. It was extremely rare for him to experience regret. But when your time inevitably ran out, remorse filled him like smoke filled his lungs with every cigarette he ran through from the moment your funeral arrangements were decided. He could never regret knowing you, as much as part of him thought doing so would spare him this pain. He tried to think of how much better he might've been had he never met you, and it always felt like he was stuck in his own personal Hell Loop with everything going wrong over and over no matter how hard he tried to change it. He regretted that for as much time as he lived up with you, he felt like he didn't use nearly enough of that time to just . . . enjoy you. You in your mortality, your fleeting beauty and love that would nonetheless haunt him for however long he might go on for. So maybe . . . for eternity? This didn't feel like his own personal Hell Loop: This was his own personal Hell Loop. And until he learned to forgive himself, it would never end. So he'd be stuck here for maybe . . . eternity.

Which one I could see as being lactose intolerant: Neither. Unless they get brought down to mortal enough, Celestials generally don't suffer ailments, let alone from things like food allergies.

Who thinks they can do something really well even though they can't?: Lucifer . . . It's not that he's not smart. But by Dad, he is lacking in so much self-awareness that it can be maddening. He thinks he's pretty good at following Dr. Linda's advice (and, to an extent, he's progressing). But the fact of the matter is, he's incredibly troubling at best. Not nearly as bad as some patients, mind you, but when Linda admitted to you that one or two sessions of Lucifer completely misinterpreting her advice nearly drove her to consider adding a secret bar into her desk, you believed her and didn't blame her for one bit.

Who is more likely to get kicked out of bed?: Lucifer is a changed devil. But it's a very slow change. You're more than happy to understand and accept this, but that doesn't mean you have to let him and his issues walk all over you. Sometimes, the big dummy just says or does things without thinking -- or because he thought too hard and thought this was the best decision to avoid further strife. And you try to be patient with him about these tendencies, you really do. But that doesn’t erase your ability to be upset by these habits, or your right to be. And no amount of him buttering you up is going to be acceptable, even when he comes by your place, armed with a dish he so thoughtfully prepared for you. Nope, he can literally go to Hell with that (really, you’re sure the demons there would appreciate a nice beef wellington); you just need some space. Ironically, this may create a cycle wherein his need to make you happy again and have your attention on him drives him to constantly hover around you and attempt to win you over, which in turn just further frustrates you. It’ll likely keep going until you either snap or a loved one pulls Luci to the side and gives him a heads up that maybe he should respect your boundaries. After all, intention isn’t the problem here: It’s the actions taken. And as much as it hurts him knowing that he accidentally hurt you, he has to respect your need for time to cool off. He forces himself to go back to his place and tries to think less about how he feels and more about how you might feel, and try to work out ways to avoid similar incidents in the future. And even though the conclusions he comes to may not be perfect, you at least respect the effort -- particularly when he next sees you, no longer armed with snacks from your favorite bakery or bouquet-carrying teddy bears. Instead, all he has is an apology. It’s sheepish, and it feels foreign to someone who rarely experiences shame or regret, but you know his whole heart is in it even if he himself doesn’t understand entirely why that is. Which is good because that’s just part one of the process; part two involves him warming up that spot in your bed that’s reserved for him!

Who uses the computer the most?: You, absolutely. Lucifer's adorably but altogether completely crap when it comes to technology. Besides, he can easily find other things with which to amuse himself, and doing the paperwork is for other people anyway.

Thank you sooooo much for participating again!!! It really means a lot!!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

[spencersstrawberryjello]

Treat People With Kindness (The BAU)

Summary: Garcia gets Reid into Harry Styles and everyone subsequently loses their minds over it.

Content: Honestly just funny I’m not sure what to call it

MC’s name/pronouns: No alternate main character, just Spencer.

Word Count: 1706

A/N: This whole fic was inspired by the fact that a fan gave Matthew Gray Gubler a Treat People With Kindness pin, which then sparked my friend Emily and I to theorize that Spencer Reid would absolutely be a Harry Styles stan. So yeah, this is literally just the product of one fan interaction lmao

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“I got a good feelin’.”

“... What’s he doing?” Emily leaned over and whispered to JJ, who just shook her head.

“I’m just takin’ it all in.”

“Ok, what happened to Reid?” Morgan joined them, and they both shrugged, watching Spencer walk through the doors of the office. 

“Floatin’ up and dreamin’.”

“You know, maybe I need to add him to my drug test list too.” Hotch had stepped out of his office, trying to hide his grin as they saw Spencer making his way to his desk, headphones in and practically dancing over to his seat, mouthing every word of the song he was listening to. He plopped down in it with a little spin, opening a file on his desk without ever taking his headphones out. 

“Try ‘Dancing with the Stars,’” Emily laughed, and JJ broke away from their group, heading over to his desk. 

“Hey Spence,” She rested her arms on the divide between his desk and Emily’s, tapping on it to get his attention. 

“Maybe we can find a place to feel good.”

“Spence!” She tapped his arm this time, and he practically jumped out of his skin, turning to face her.

“And we can treat -”

He quickly tore the headphones out of his ears, setting them down on his desk and looking up at her, clearing his throat.

“Sorry. I was listening to something.” He gestured to the headphones still connected to his phone, as if that wasn’t already obvious. 

“Yeah, I noticed,” JJ laughed.

“Do we have a case?” 

“Nothing yet, you’re good.” She tried fruitlessly to hide her grin, and he gave her a strange look.

“Ok…”

“So,” She plopped down in Emily’s chair, rolling it over to sit near him, “What were you listening to?”

“Oh!” His face lit up, and he grabbed his phone, holding it out for her to see. She put the headphones in her ears, hearing the final moments of the song he’d been jamming to.

“And we can treat people with kindness, find a place to feel good.”

“Harry Styles?” JJ laughed incredulously, handing him back his phone. 

“You’ve heard of him?” He asked, taking the phone and sitting it back on his desk and turning back to her.

“I’m pretty sure most people have heard of him, Spence.”

“Ok, well, I hadn’t. But on Saturday I was speaking at the University of Mary Washington with Rossi, and one of the girls gave me this, after the lecture,” He grabbed his bag off the back of the chair, pointing to a round pin clipped on the strap. It was enamel, with light pink on the inside and a red rose in the center, encircled by the phrase “Treat People With Kindness” in black lettering. “And you know, naturally I thought it was a good message so I put it on my bag and I thought that was all it was. But then I ran into Garcia.”

“Oh god.”

“I was walking in yesterday and she saw it and kind of freaked out a little bit, and pulled me into her office and played me the song - the one you just listened to - and it was amazing and so I told her I thought it was amazing, which made her freak out even more and then you called with a case so I left, only to receive a a YouTube playlist a few hours later that she told me I had to watch every video on or she’d stop printing the case files for me.”

“You know she loves you too much to actually do that, right?”

“I mean, the odds were low, but I wasn’t going to risk it. Either way, I sort of listened to every single song on Fine Line and Self-Titled in one night and also a whole bunch of interviews that she sent me and he’s really funny and his music is great and the moral of the story is I kind of love him.”

JJ sent back in her chair, dumbfounded. “Dude… you mean to tell me Garcia made you a Harry Styles fan?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“I - Penelope!” JJ left without another word, making her way into Garcia’s office. Spencer just shrugged, returning to the file he was looking at - and his music - as Garcia spun to face JJ.

“Jennifer, my love, to what do I owe the pleasure? New case?” She asked. JJ just shook her head.

“You broke Reid.”

“I did not break Reid!” She defended with a grin. “I merely helped him reach his true form.”

“He willingly used technology, and he came into the office today practically dancing to Treat People With Kindness. So yes, you did break Reid.”

“JJ, dear,” Garcia got up from her chair, taking JJ’s hands in the doorway, “Do you remember when Reid got that adorable little shaggy haircut?”

“Despite the fact that he changes his hair like every month, yes, I do.”

“And do you remember what Hotch said?”

She thought for a moment, then her eyes widened in shock. “You did all of this… because of the boyband joke?”

“Like I said: true form.” Garcia returned to her chair, spinning around with a laugh. “In my defense, I didn’t know he was going to get a Harry Styles pin. I just took advantage of the opportunity when it presented itself. I already failed at teaching him to worship Lady Gaga, I could not miss another chance to try and pull him out of the dark ages.”

“You are ridiculous, you know that?”

“That’s why you love me!” 

JJ laughed, leaving Garcia’s office and heading up to hers, ruffling Spencer’s hair on her way by.

“You should grow your hair out again.”

“You think so?” He reached up and fussed with his hair, just as Garcia emerged into the main room. 

“Spencer Reid, my beautiful boy genius, did you do what I asked?”

“Garcia, I figured out how to download music to my phone because of you. So yes, I did what you asked.”

“You are officially my new favorite person.”

“Hang on, what is this all about?” Emily asked. Garcia grinned, hardly able to contain her excitement. 

“I’m finally bringing the lovely Dr. Reid here into the 21st Century.”

“Penelope,” Emily raised an eyebrow at her, “What did you do?”

“Garcia thinks she did something revolutionary by getting me into Harry Styles’ music,” Spencer clarified. Emily immediately clapped her hand over her mouth, about to respond before Derek piped up from his desk.

“Oh, she converted you too?”

“‘Too’ - you mean to tell me that you, Derek Morgan, are a Harry Styles fan?” Emily was looking between the three of them now, practically in shock. Derek just laughed, holding up his hands.

“What can I say, the guy’s got an incredible voice.”

“And the make up of his songs is so interesting as well; I mean, when you look at the music he’s produced in the last few years in comparison to what he performed while he was a part of One Direction -”

“Oh my god please tell me you’ve also listened to One Direction,” Emily said, laughing when Spencer nodded. 

“I don’t understand why you guys are making such a big deal out of this. He’s a singer, it’s not like he doesn’t have fans,” He defended. 

“Reid, two months ago you didn’t even know who Lady Gaga was. This is kind of a big deal.”

“Conference room in five,” JJ walked through the group, heading upstairs as everyone else got up to follow her. 

“Do not think I am dropping this,” Emily pointed at Derek and Spencer before jogging to catch up with JJ. Derek laughed, falling in step with Reid. 

“So, what all did Garcia make you watch?”

“Oh, just a bunch of interviews. I did some of my own reading though -”

“Of course you did.”

“- and what I found really interesting was One Direction’s actual rise to fame. Because the thing is, they didn’t even win X-Factor. They came in third, and yet they became the most famous group to come from that season of the show. In Forever Young - their book - they talked about their time on X-Factor, but it was so strange to me because their first album - Up All Night, that came out not even a full year after they finished the X-Factor live tour - sold 4.5 million copies within the first year. And they just kept growing… Morgan why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry,” They’d walked into the conference room by now, sitting down next to each other at the table while Derek tried to stop himself from laughing, looking at Reid in disbelief, “You read their book?”

“And their Wikipedia page - I told you I did my own reading!”

“You said you did some of your own reading, you didn’t say you’d memorized everything about their career!”

“Eidetic memory, remember?” He tapped his forehead, and Derek rolled his eyes.

“You never let me forget. I’m assuming you know everything about their solo careers as well?”

“Well I got into Harry’s stuff first, but I ended up reading all of theirs since I didn’t have anything else to do last night. It’s just so interesting to think about what One Direction’s situation reveals about human nature and celebrity culture. I mean, a lot of their fans are dictionary definition erotomaniacs, and yet -”

“I shouldn’t even be surprised that you read this all in one night.”

“Like I said: didn’t have anything else to do.”

“As much as I’m glad you boys are bonding, we have more important things to worry about than Reid’s newfound love for a British boy band,” JJ interrupted.

“Niall Horan’s actually Irish -”

“Spence. The case.” She pulled up the photos on the screen, and Spencer nodded, opening the case file in front of him as JJ began to review everything they needed to know. She finally closed out, and Hotch grabbed his tablet and rose from the table. 

“Alright, wheels up in thirty.”

Everyone nodded, gathering up their things and vacating the room. Spencer and Derek trailed out after everyone, Spencer picking up the conversation as soon as JJ finished. 

“You know, I’m considering learning how to knit - there’s this cardigan that Harry wore...”

[mythvoiced]

THESE ARE FOR FABIAN, THE MOST RESPECTABLE NECROMANCER, A LEGEND---

Fabian, if you could describe the dead in five words, which ones would they be? From all the places you’ve visited, which one has been your favorite? Do you wish you could return to it, or is it too dangerous to do so? Does it ever frustrate you, staying ‘off the grid’? Do you wish you could do certain things with more freedom? What’s your favorite thing to purchase at a market? Have you ever considered having a small business, or is that too risky, since it’d imply staying at a certain spot for, perhaps, far too long?

@jeoseungsaja | Good thing these are for Fabian because I have been ANNIHILATED AND AM DECEA-

---

“Oof, right out the gate, an easy one-” it’s a statement accompanied by well-intentioned chuckling, as Fabian settles further into a makeshift seat of what must be one further down the line of double digit nth place they’ve crashed at and might dare call their home for a few weeks, a few months even, if the universe meant it well enough.

They like questions, so this is actually a good thing. A reason to think, a way to spend the time, and a pleasant voice to fill the silence a while, not quite the companion, but any soul will do, truly, so long as they can chit chat about a while and remember that there’s more out there than just moving until feet go sore.

Their index tips an arrhythmical rhythm against their lower lip, gaze lost into thoughts and decision making, before the hand moves to start listing five. “Dedicated. Sentimental. Talkative,” they lift their eyebrows at that, eye contact and a nod as if to further underline just how fitting that one is. “Lonely, a lot of them. And... rich.”

Their hands spread, show palms at that last one, a self-satisfied smile tip-tapping gracefully onto their lips, used to deliver promises of impossible wrinkles, that would showcase with warmth just how likely Fabian used to be and usually is, to smile. If they could get wrinkles, of course. “Rich in memories, rich in stories, rich in emotions, rich in all the things that humanity has at its core, all the things that stay behind once you rip away all we take upon ourselves from the outside. Infinitely rich.”

“Which leads me almost perfectly into the next question, thank you very much for them, by the way,” they shift forward slightly, move their back away from where it’s leant against parts of the frame of the old house they’d settled in, leaning forward, elbows resting on knees, hands doing half of the talking as they comfortable on the steps leading up to the ancient veranda. “Every place is my favourite place. And don’t take that as a lazy way out of this question, nah nah, I’m not that kind of person,” they jokingly sway their index back and forth, one of those fingers that dig through soil and root with love for times past alone. “Every place has incredible things to offer, in terms of people, in terms of history, in terms of culture. And I’ve been to... seriously many places, and I’ve got loads of souvenirs to show it off,” they motion behind themself, into the closed house, story-agitated eyes relaxing just enough to wink at their listener. “Y’know, just to avoid to forget, because I may live long, but that doesn’t protect my memories from living just as long. I take plenty of bounty along, photo-cards, trinkets, anything unique to the place, because, well... There’s no guarantee I could ever see it again.”

Shoulders lift, drop, joined hands open, spread, what can you do? written in their sideways glance to their surroundings, in the lost gaze, in the slight straightening of the curve of their lips. “Because, yeah, it’s dangerous. Going anywhere is dangerous. Sometimes I move without knowing whether I even have to, you know, whether I’m actually in danger there, or whether I’m actually walking into danger. It’s like a... I figured, the more you move, the more tracks you leave, the messier it’ll get to follow. If I want to visit a place I’ve been to before, I’ll have to wait years, to mess the pattern up, and absolutely avoid creating a pattern, actually.”

Puffed cheeks, an ‘oh boy’ huff etched into the sigh that leaves them. “So yeah, it can get very frustrating - these questions flow almost effortlessly into the next, did you notice?” They stop to motion a wave with their hand, a visual of one answer simply slipping into the next, as they grin at what they assume to be a momentary audience. “Well, you made them, so I guess you did notice. Well, anyways,” a loudless clap of their hands, to return back onto the tracks of the one-sided conversation.

“It gets frustrating because of that lack of freedom. I try not to complain, I guess others have it worse, others others would kill to live the way I do, but... Living the life someone else enjoys living doesn’t mean I enjoy it, you know? I’d like it if it was... If I could travel this way pushed by curiosity, by the need to see more, meet more people. If I could live this way because I felt this was the best way for me, and it is, I do enjoy it. I guess knowing, though, that I’m technically on the run, and all I can’t do because of that, it gets to you, kind of... sours the concept. I’d love to live this way with... you know, that small business thing, but I’ll get to that in a moment, at the market!”

A brief chuckle of triumph, a grin the likes that tend to wipe away clouds and allow the sun to shine directly on you, as Fabian leans even more over themself, further down, further into the attention of whoever’s listening.

“Food. Now! Don’t judge!” They shoot back, palms spread suddenly, a mock-defensive posture, the stars sparkling on their features. “I love food. I love food because, well, it tastes good and I like to eat. But more than for that reason, I love food because it’s like an edible history book. What people sell at the market shows what they grow in their fields, what the people buy, are they smokers and tobaccos litter every stand? Which vegetable is sold the most, because it belongs to which typical dish of a given town, a given nation? What does that say about the history of a place, did this dish become typical because it’s all people could make during periods of famine? You know, all that stuff. Rich in history, rich in culture.”

They grin from ear to ear and shrug with only one shoulder. “Otherwise, anything goes. I also just like walking around and talking to the people behind the stands. Isn’t always welcome, standing there and not buying, I often end up getting stuff I don’t need just for a conversation,” a laughter of the likes that warrants a head thrown back, not loud enough to boom across the quiet neighbourhood, but enough to make their shoulders shake, and deep enough to find its roots in a heart that adores to laugh.

They’re still chuckling when they lean forward again. “That’s why I have considered owning a small business. I would absolutely love that. In the back, the necromancy stuff. In the front, well, I don’t know, I thought a bookstore of sorts, one that sells folklore stories written by locals, stories by the people they feature, by small authors, by indigenous authors. Collected from all across the world,” their arm shoots out, motioning into a random direction to underline their words. “People could come in and sit down and read and I’d learn how to bake! Properly, I know it a little. I’d make pastries, and the payment would be stories in turn. Or recipes! Which are basically stories, too. You know, edible history books,” eyebrow wiggle, prideful smile at the self-established joke.

Then their shoulders deflate into another shrug and their gaze drops, sees through the roots buried beneath the soil under the house, looks at the stories interwoven into every patch of dirt they’ve ever walked upon and knows to not place their own anywhere any time soon, safer for there where their first ones still lied buried, securely kept by their parents.

They lean back, look to the sky and shrug again, allowing a small smile. “But you know, that’s just wishful thinking. Because I’ve got to move.”

[idga-buck]

Some and Others, 3/?

Earth’s mightiest heroes save the city again, but that’s never the end of the story.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4,301

Content: canon typical violence, death, destruction, swearing

Bucky was going to call. He just didn’t. He was surprised you hadn’t and overwhelmingly disappointed that it meant if he was going to apologize, it was a conversation he’d have to initiate himself. It could wait though. Just a little longer while he figured out what he wanted to say.

A week later, the Post ran a story about the same gossip site that had leaked your photo of him being shut down after many of their stories and photos were found to be fake. A rarity for the world of journalism these days, Sam noted casually as they stopped at a newspaper cart. Bucky bought a couple candy bars and watched the man with the thick black mustache and the gold chain slip copies of the article in front of a few of his worst sellers. Could he actually be that lucky? It was an easy out after a week of dodging questions and trying to remind the world to stay out of his business.

“So that photo of you? The secret girlfriend?” Sam waited for Bucky to respond, but when the centenarian opted to buy a Pay Day instead, he watched closer. Bucky hated that. Sam said he had a staring problem, but Sam was the one with x-Ray vision. He could read people, read a room, read Steve’s body language from across a battlefield and adjust his position without being told. As annoyed as Bucky acted when paired up with Sam Wilson, he was one of the few people in this century that Bucky Barnes respected. Truly. Except for that moment on a street corner when brown eyes were scanning his complete lack of guts and deciding what was worth commenting on.

“Yeah,” Bucky ripped open the wrapper a little too aggressively and responded with peanuts between his teeth. “It wasn’t real.”

Sam nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets while Bucky stuffed his face. “I don’t know how you land the fake girlfriend story, when I’m right here,” they started walking away from the stand while Sam jabbered on. “And lookin’ as fine as I do? Come on, man,” he danced ahead of Bucky a few steps, forcing him to look up. “You know this would make a better story.”

Before Bucky could say anything, a loud crash echoed between the buildings. Nothing was visible from their block, but both men, trained for combat, were instantly on alert.

“That for us?” Sam asked, eyeing the busy intersection.

“No,” said Bucky, a clipped tone in his voice as he shook his head and started walking again.

Another crash, this time accompanied by the faint human noises that usually follow tragedy.

“You sure about that?” Sam’s eyebrow shot up.

Sirens from every kind emergency response vehicle blared in the distance, growing louder then quieter again as they wove their way through the streets, changing directions to avoid traffic.

Bucky pointed at a passing fire truck, waiting until it had turned down another street before speaking. “See? They got it.”

Then Sam’s phone rang and Bucky swore, planting his hands on his hips while whoever was on the other line confirmed that the emergency growing in the distance was in fact for them. Sam placed the call on speaker and gave their current location. Stark’s voice was muffled and metallic, the way it usually was while calling from inside his fancy helmet, but he told them to stay put as he did a fly by with Sam’s equipment.

“Tell the Tin Man he’s got a special delivery,” Tony informed them from somewhere overhead.

“They're your wings,” Bucky grumbled, looking up from the ground as the familiar glare of Iron Man’s thrusters came into view. “And your robot.”

“First of all,” Sam informed him. “Red Wing isn’t a robot. He’s a drone.”

“It,” Bucky corrected, “is a robot.”

“I’m gonna tell him you said that,” said Sam before pointing up to where Iron Man had doubled back to get a better angle. “And… unlike some of us present, my body is exactly as God created it, flesh and bone.”

“Pop up, deep center,” Tony’s voice rang out obnoxiously through Sam’s phone once more.

Bucky watched a black bundle falling from the sky, trying to position himself under it and pushing more than one pedestrian out of his way to do so. “Actually, I was a catcher back in ‘32.”

“THEN CATCH!” Sam hollered just before the EXO Falcon gear landed square in Bucky’s chest, forcing him off his feet and onto his ass, skidding to a stop on a sidewalk while the people around them scattered, gasping and grabbing at their phones to take pictures of the two Avengers. Bucky laid flat on his back, both arms still wrapped around the bundle, and took a deep breath when Sam stood over his head, arms shooting out to his sides as he yelled “SAFE!”

Bucky groaned and tossed the black bag up into Sam’s arms, hard enough to make him stumble but not enough to knock him down. “Should have said ‘out.’” Bucky grumbled and Sam chuckled as he dug through the bag for his equipment. “Safe makes it sound like I-”

“You really wanna argue about baseball right now,” Sam laughed, securing his wings over his torso and releasing them both with a flash as if stretching before a fight. “Or are we gonna go save the world?” Bucky didn’t answer, just took off running in the direction of the screams. “That’s what I’m talking about,” said Sam to himself, shooting up into the air.

…

Robots. Drones. Whatever they, Bucky Barnes has decided that he hates them.

Fighting Nazis was easy. Not physically. Not when your gun isn’t really yours and the food sucks and you’re almost as worried about losing your toes as you are losing your team. But it made sense. These men in their wool coats wanted innocent deaths. Something in Bucky that had been there all along was born anew in the war. He was a protector. Of his sisters, of Steve, of his country. It made sense.

Nothing about Hydra made sense and the therapist he stopped seeing told him it was okay to think about those years differently than the rest. So he did.

When T’challa presented him with a black vibranium canon for his left side, the enemy was otherworldly. Literally. They didn’t bleed like men. They made horrible screeching noises when they died, but even that was different from me. They rode disgusting creatures with teeth that could have scratched his arm if he’d let them get close enough. They were invaders, their leader sought destruction on an even greater scale than the War. Bucky was a protector again, protector of Earth, of life in the universe. An unimaginable title for the boy he’d been, sitting in front of the radio with his family and marveling at the president's voice. It’s not like he was eager to do it again, but space invaders whose goal was universal genocide would be met with the business end of Bucky’s favorite rifle.

Fighting robots, however, was fucked up.

Bucky was still processing his new life, still getting used to the idea that people carried plastic cards in their wallets and could pull money out of the walls with just a few buttons. There were movie theaters with screens two stories high. Cars plugged into the sides of hotels. The cell phone in his pocket was overwhelming as is. In a few minutes, he could buy all the clothes he’d ever need, pay for dinner, and talk to people across the country. It was baffling.

All this technology, all this progress, and of course there were people who weaponized it. Bucky hated that. He remembered science fairs, remembered Howard Stark’s big promises. There was so much hope in him as a young man. He’d live to drive a flying car, his children would learn about the world through a holograms in their livingroom, his grandchildren would live on the moon. The possibilities were endless. So much so that people with horrible intentions for the world also believed that the possibilities were endless, forcing Bucky into his current position.

His thighs were wrapped around the base of a machine, arms wound near the top. He threw his shoulders back with all of his might, squeezing his legs in the process, and didn’t stop until the metal gave way. Bucky fell onto the pavement with his own momentum, the enemy in two pieces with wires exposed and frizzling as they died. He dropped the robot and rolled to his side, observing the scene around him. Steve used a cleaner approach and sent his shield flying through the air. Three more bots’ were sliced in two, the last of which was pinned by the shield into the side of a brick building. Sam circled above, with Redwing swooping below to draw laser fire away from bystanders while Wanda tried her best to herd them away, spinning to throw angry red energy at anything that came their direction.

“Sergeant Barnes!” The familiar and overly excited voice of the kid in blue and red spider gear startled Bucky. The kid swung in unexpectedly, decked out and ready to help. Bucky didn’t care that he was probably skipping school to do so and swung his vibranium arm behind him, the metal of another droid crunching under his elbow. “How can I help?”

Bucky squinted, a little dumbfounded at the question. There was a six block radius being overrun with droids, drones, robots- whatever- and people were terrified. “Pick something,” he grunted, taking the robot's head… top part, between his hands and twisting until it gave way and the bottom half dropped powerless to the ground.

Just then the sound of metal screeching pulled both their eyes to a city bus being thrown around like it was weightless, crunching the vehicles nearby, and sending more people into a frenzy as buildings were still evacuating onto the street. “That! Pick that!” Bucky commanded and the kid flew away, attached to a white string like a kite. Two more robots were approaching from the sidewalk, red eyes glowing and ready to fire. Bucky looked around the street for something, anything that he could use before deciding on a minivan. The windows looked clear, driver and passengers already scampering away at the first sign of trouble, so Bucky planted his boot into the back door and kicked. The door caved in and the vehicle flipped onto its side before skidding to a halt on the sidewalk and crushing the robots beneath it.

“Uh! MISTER BARNES, SIR, SARGE-!”

Bucky turned back to look at Peter, propped up on a light pole and leaning so far back his body was almost parallel to the ground. The only thing keeping him upright was the two thick white webs attached to the bus, one at the front and one at the back. It was tipping over dangerously low, trapping a small group of people between the bus and two buildings, one that had smoke billowing out the windows. This was a mess.

Bucky ran through the street, jumping onto the hoods of abandoned cars to avoid weaving between them before leaping off an SUV and rolling back into a run on the sidewalk. A laser struc Peter, knocking him clean off his perch, and the webs supporting the bus went dangerously slack as it started tipping toward the trapped people again. Bucky jumped, wedging himself between the building and the collapsing bus with great effort. His shoulders dug into the brick behind him and his thighs burned as he shoved the bus away from the wall, gritting his teeth as he felt it slowly start to tip away from the ground. The kid was now on the ground somewhere out of sight and Bucky had to hold back from sending the vehicle flying, lest he squash Stark’s favorite spider in the process. The tension in his legs grew as he held it steady, adjusting his feet and shoulders until he felt it wasn’t going anywhere.

“Hey!” He called out to the people below him. “Get out of here, go!”

There were rushed thank yous and lots of tears as the crowd dispersed from their trapped position. But one voice stood out among them and it made Bucky’s heart speed up.

“Bucky?! Oh my god, BUCKY!”

Bucky’s eyes were closed under the strain, but he’d know your voice anywhere. He opened them just in time to see Peter recover and zip off in a new direction. Bucky released his breath and shoved his feet out hard, tipping the bus back. He dropped from the wall and grabbed you as the bus wobbled precariously in both directions before finally falling into traffic and directly onto the roof of an empty red sports car.

Bucky hadn’t realized how tight he was holding you until you said his name again and the word was broken. His arms relaxed a bit, but you made no move to run away… or let go of his jacket. The two of you just stared at each other, breathing heavily, before screaming drew your eyes away. The small crowd of people you’d been stuck with were running away from where you stood, but the two in the back collapsed, their bodies charred and heavy as they hit the ground. You screamed then and Bucky pulled your back into his chest, hugging your stomach as you keeled over. He’d seen so much death in his hundred odd years, it was hard to witness it with these fresh eyes. You weren’t prepared to watch two innocent people’s skin melting under lasers. Hell, neither was Bucky and while you cried in his arms, the smell of burning flesh stung his eyes. He’d never get over that smell, no matter how many world wars he participated in. His face was buried in the back of your head, shushing you as he lifted you up. He took careful backwards steps until you were both hidden in the same alley you’d just been trapped in. Bucky looked up at the burning building and decided he had a minute before you were both in danger here.

“Hey,” he said softly when you went limp against his chest. “Hey now,” he repeated, spinning and almost dropping you when he realized you hadn’t just relaxed… you were unconscious. “Shit,” Bucky dropped to his knees and let your body lean up against his chest, slapping at your cheeks and calling your name to try and wake you up. Half of your face was red with blood from a wound he couldn’t see somewhere in your hair. Break up or no break up, he couldn’t leave you like this. Any other person, he’d run them to safety and double back to continue clearing the streets. But this wasn’t any person. It was the girl he dumped in the middle of a restaurant and had continuously put off calling to explain himself. He hadn’t gotten the chance to clear the air and leaving you to wake up in a few hours in the middle of a destroyed midtown was just too cruel. He did like you and now it felt like he owed you.

Bucky picked you up like a doll and slung you around to his back, crossing your arms over his chest as your legs dangled behind his knees. That wasn’t going to work, he decided after only a few steps. “Can you hold on a little-“ Bucky drifted off as he turned his face to see your face hidden behind him, your forehead limply resting against his shoulder. “Of course not,” he berated himself and stopped to adjust again. This time he stooped, grabbing one of your arms and one of your legs with his hands. You were slung over his shoulders like a backpack, the same way he carried goats in Wakanda, only much easier since you weren’t kicking or screaming and he had two hands with which to wrangle you.

His steady march out of the fray was interrupted once by Wanda. After directing pockets of people to safety, she’d sought out the source of the invasion. Bucky looked around for a safe place to stow your body and found an SUV that was abandoned but still running with the doors unlocked to lay you out across the backseat, carefully tucking your feet in before slamming the door behind him. He liked Wanda, despite not knowing what exactly she was capable of, but liked her a lot less when he found himself immersed in a glowing red forcefield and being lifted into the sky. When he was forced through the large glass window of another building only to look up and find her floating gently through the hole his body had created, she shrugged.

“This way was faster,” she said, Sokovian accent much softer than their first meeting.

“Right,” Bucky groaned, making a mental note of how many Avengers could zip through the air with ease and the odds of being the one she found on the ground.

They raced up the final set of stairs and Bucky ripped the maintenance door to the roof off its hinges. It was unlucky that Bucky and Wanda had been the ones to find the bastard responsible. If it had been Steve, he’d been bound and handed over to the authorities. Tony might have thrown him in armored vehicle and shook him around a bit before demanding answers. Bruce… depending on the day wouldn’t have been much better. Nat would have gotten answers easier than either of them and Sam was easily the most noble of the bunch, so Bucky had no idea what he’d do. The right thing, whatever that was. But Wanda wasn’t particularly fond of people who harmed innocent people. The motivation didn’t much matter to her when the sounds of children crying could be heard in the streets. Bucky didn’t have much grace for people who were smart enough to help, but broken enough to hurt. Like the bastards in Hydra, who healed him, kept him alive, gave him extraordinary strength then weaponized him. Anyone who had this level of technological advancement and chose to bring destruction with it was a waste of air. Wanda hoisted the man up into one of her angry red orbs while Bucky broke the control panel into as many pieces as he could, destroying anyone else’s opportunity to learn from this guy. Neither of them had anticipated this guy to be so well armed. It looked like a pistol, but whatever it fired managed to get through Wanda’s energy field and pierce her shoulder, breaking her focus just enough for him to drop back onto the roof. He took off running to the edge and leapt, but Wanda recovered faster, using her powers to yank him back. Bucky caught him in the air and squeezed, locking the man in a painful hold until he noticed glowing red numbers counting down behind the man’s neck. Shit.

“Bucky!” Wanda pointed at the man’s hands, wrapped threateningly around a plunger that could only mean one thing.

Without a better option, Bucky turned back to edge. He released the man and as he tried to stumble forward, Bucky’s boot landed square against his sacrum, launching the man through the air and into a neighboring building in a ball of fire. Both Avengers watched the corner offices go up in flames, disgust and horror in both their eyes.

“The whole block was evacuated,” Wanda said softly and Bucky nodded. There was a distinct lack of screaming coming from the direction of the building and sirens soon flooded the streets below as first responders made their way into critical areas. From the ledge, both of them watched as the remaining bots dropped to the ground before their team, disengaging en masse. Steve looked up from atop a bodega and saluted the sky in their general direction, lifting the shield as a second acknowledgment before jumping down to the street to start… whatever Captain America does once the threat has been neutralized. The PR and clean up stuff wasn’t Bucky’s scene and he turned away, making it all the way across the roof, still observing the scene below, before remembering that you were somewhere, either still unconscious or just waking up, deeply confused in the back of a stranger’s car.

“You okay?” Bucky asked, wanting to make sure before asking Wanda for any favors.

She pulled her hand away from her shoulder, black nail polish and red blood looking menacing and downright witchy against her pale fingers. “I’ll be alright,” she assured him, eyes already glowing red as she prepared to offer more aid.

Bucky stopped her and nodded over the side of the building. “Gimme a lift?”

She snorted and waved her fingers without looking at him and soon enough, Bucky found himself falling on his ass once again. He needed to work on his dismount if this was going to become a regular pairing. Thankfully or maybe not, you were trying to wake up as Bucky slipped into the driver’s seat and commandeered the vehicle. He turned back to watch you whine in pain as you tried to sit up, before slipping back into sleep when he told you to stay down. You were in and out for most of the drive, which helped Bucky weave up and over curbs to avoid stagnant areas where everyone had abandoned their cars out of fear.

…

You woke up with a headache, exasperated by the bright lights of the emergency room. Bucky could see the moment you came to by the hard squinting that melted into a grimace. You’d had a couple false starts, but when your eyes opened and locked on his, Bucky knew it was the real deal this time. He stood to pull back the curtain and immediately a nurse was shimmying her way into your space, brushing her chest against Bucky’s in the process. He nodded and gave her a tight smile. It had been like that since he walked into the ER with you. Avengers carrying blacked out civilians get a lot of attention, but they also get speedy service. Which is what Bucky told himself when he stuck around once you’d been admitted. You’d get better care if he stayed with you, so he did. Feet propped up on the end of your bed and dropping whenever someone came to run another test. He wasn’t family and didn’t claim to be, so they told him nothing, but nurses managed to smile flirtatiously in between doing their job. In another life, Bucky would have… done something. Anything. He smiled. He was a hundred, not dead, but there was something off putting about receiving these looks when you were asleep right there between hanging curtains in an overrun hospital as ambulances and families started to arrive from the mess he’d just left.

You answered their questions slowly, but correctly. Your name, where you were, what year it is, who the president is. The doctor would be in soon and Bucky took the minute of alone time to scoot the chair they’d brought in for him. You were watching him expectantly as the legs scraped across the floor, just a few inches before he could reach a hand out to yours. You looked down curiously at your hand in Bucky’s.

“They spelled my name wrong,” you murmured and Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut as you lifted your joined hands to observe the little plastic bracelet closer. He shook his head, wanting to apologize, but also hoping you wouldn’t connect the dots that he’d given them your information incorrectly. “Bucky?” He looked up to find your eyes wider than usual, a little more vulnerable than he was used to seeing you and wanted to do something to make you feel better. But like the entirety of your relationship, he had no idea how to do that.

“You���re okay,” he nodded, telling himself as much as he was telling you.

“Thank you,” you squeezed his fingers as your voice shook.

Just then a man in a white coat, pushed back the curtain and Bucky stood reflexively, dropping your hand in the process. He turned back and saw your face fall before crossing your arms over your chest and looking away from him.

“Sergeant Barnes,” the doctor addressed him first.

“Bucky,” he corrected without thinking and turned his body, opening up the room a bit and directing attention back to what mattered. The patient. You.

“Thank you for bringing her in,” the doctor continued, then looked back and forth between the two of you. “We’ve got it from here, if you need to-”

“He can stay,” you piped up. The doctor asked if you were sure, but you were. The doctor nodded, turning fully toward the bed and while that was Bucky’s goal, he now felt completely out of place in the tiny space.

“First things first,” the doctor started. “You and the baby are just fine, so I don’t want you worrying about that at all. Do you have a OB or a-”

Bucky stopped listening at that moment and focused on the roaring ocean in his ears. He looked to the bed where you were listening intently to what the doctor was saying, nodding and shaking your head mechanically. While he stared, you stole a glance in his direction. Your face was blank and he didn’t spend much time trying to read it.

“This sounds personal,” he said, voice flat and vibranium hand already reaching for the curtain at the end of your bed. “Take care.” Without sparing another look, Bucky walked through the busy emergency room with his left hand tucked into his front pocket, making him invisible to anyone who didn’t know he was there.

A/N: Here we go! It’s happening. I’m not sold on the way this ended but it was getting long as is and don’t worry, Bucky will have his chance to make it up to you.

Tags: @fangirl-swagg @learisa