#op can come talk to me if they have a problem with it!

[heterochromicnachos]

Hi, op!

Wanted to say your takes are absolutely valid before I talk about some of my own takes on the fandom. (And add a bit to yours)

Yeah, there’s a bit of a problem with the perception of women in this fandom, and pairing the boys with women.

I do want to remind everyone that Donnie has a very fucking obvious crush on atomic lass, a woman. He asks the cosplayer if she and atomic lad are “splitsville,” very clearly saying “hey girl you single?” Donnie is *very* clearly into women.

Kendra always struck me as being an ableist jerk more than anything. Granted, she is just a bad person, a stinky head if you will, but it always struck me as her taking advantage of Donnie’s naiveite caused by his mental difference. She took advantage of Shelldon too, though, so maybe she’s just a manipulative stinky face. I don’t like her but that gives me no excise to dehumanize her. She’s human, just a bad human.

The kendratello ship makes me uncomfortable because it feels abusive. That’s not to say Kendra can’t change, but it’s just been shown that Kendra has gone out of her way to try to KILL Donnie’s brothers, who barely even care about her existing, who have done nothing to her, and I don’t see how pairing her with Donnie is going to change that. I’m all for whump and angst, but abusive relationships just make me sick. They’re a real thing that happens frequently and I don’t see why people romanticize it, let alone ship it. I don’t see the two being able to get along, not when Kendra is actively bossing her teammates around like minions. (I could be exaggerating, but my autistic ass has been bullied enough to recognize bullying and she’s absolutely a bully.)

April and Cassandra are strong, capable women who both have some form of combat prowess. If April can survive to the end of the apocalypse, why the hell can’t cass? She has martial training, she was in a cult that relied on martial strength for god’s sake. Cassandra lived a long darn time. Casey remembers her face clearly in the movie, meaning she either died recently or she was still alive at the time of the beginning of the movie. You tend to forget faces after a while, and I doubt they had photo taking tech in the apocalypse.

A lot of the transgender headcanons really come out of nowhere in this fandom. It’s not like with other fandoms where you can go “this character has allegories/paralells to being transgender” and then make them transgender. There’s no actual substance behind the transgendering that I’ve seen. It’s just “I want this character to be a woman now.”

There’s also a lot of toxic masculinity in this fandom, too, especially considering Raph’s whole character was AGAINST the toxic masculine stereotypes of big strong man being a jerk and never crying and never showing emotion and etcetera. I feel like this translates into the transgendering of characters too, because Leo and Raph, the most common victims of this, tend to act more feminine. That’s not a bad thing, that’s entirely normal. But they get hit with the trans beam because of the fact that they dared to break gender stereotypes. Raph is gentle and loves animals. Leo’s flamboyant, showy and such.

Another thing I always noticed with the fandom is just, the inherent ableism with Donnie. People see him and his very very bad front to seem like he doesn’t care and make him into an emotionless asshole who doesn’t care about anyone. He’s very emotional, and just because he’s deadpan doesn’t mean he;s emotionless. He cries, he sings, he laughs, and it’s not cool that people just strip him of that because he’s autistic. As an autistic person myself, it’s really upsetting to see people make us out as husks of people who don’t give a damn simply because we just don’t get emotions. We still feel them, we still have them, we just don’t get them. They’re confusing and loud and mean and a mess of wires that got tangled in your pocket and by the time you untangle them it’s too late because they;re back in your pocket again and you gotta start all over. Donnie doesn’t like emotions, he;s uncomfortable with them, hence why he tries to act like the doesn’t have them. He’s hiding from them so he doesn’t have to deal with them.

Continuing on that, a lot of people give him more “stereotypical” autistic traits. Being nonverbal, over exaggerated sensory overloads and shutdowns, the like. While, yes, some people have these issues, and it’s not uncommon, it feels suspect. To me, it feels like they’re trying to romanticize being autistic. It’s not a fun thing to have, autism. Things are just more difficult when you’re autistic and people don’t seem to get that.

I think my main problem is that they infantilize him with these extra traits. Sure, he didn’t have a great upbringing with splinter, and he doesn’t have anyone to talk to or communicate with to work out his quirks and traits to make them manageable, but he has himself. As he says himself, he’s uncomfortable with emotion, so it only makes sense that by proxy he’d do whatever he can to make sure those emotional outbursts and shutdowns never happen. The less emotion he has to deal with, the better. Maybe it’s just as simple as working on breathing exercises or learning to recognize his feelings. He’s able to verbalize what he’s feeling really well, so I do like to think he already figured himself out for the most part. Sure, sensory issues are still a thing, but sometimes you just gotta work through it.

TLDR: your opinions are valid, I think people should stop being women haters and stop making people trans or making their autism more severe for the fun of it.

the rise fandom actually has a gigantic glaring misogyny problem but im not sure if i want to start that conversation right now

[spiderbitesandvampirevenom]

Maybe don't compare a trans woman making a joke post to a cis guy

Maybe don't take a trans woman making a joke in response to another trans woman's joke as me calling them a cis guy? if OP wants me to remove my tags I will but I don't think he needs you fighting her battles. i meant no disrespect and i'll rescind my tags if asked. anyways, now on to you. maybe get fucked anon, did you think about that?

[kacievvbbbb]

Maybe it's just me and I just don't understand the arc. Or maybe this arc will get some grand conclusion I'm really starting to doubt. But like I'm sick and tired of Tashigi being used as Zoro's misogyny proxy. Like the "a woman swordsman could never beat a man" belief and trauma made sense for both Kuina and Tashigi and was a very valid fear way back in the East Blue when they were still fighting relatively normal people and had no scope of how big the world is

but at this point where there are literally 20 feet tall dudes and people can blow up a whole city with just Haki the only reason Tashigi is still weak is because she is being written that way. Which is really hard to understand because it seems now more than ever One Piece has been getting more and more strong female characters so I don't know why every time Tashigi is on screen with Zoro we have to rehash this. It's even worse cause all she does in the scene is prove Zoro right by getting in a fight that she can't handle and needing saving. It's such a confusing message and honestly doesn't really apply or come up anywhere but with Tashigi and Zoro (outside of that one time where Zoro yells at enel for blasting Robin because she's a woman which was weird because Robin's been in a lot of fights before but seemed there just so enel could point out just how ruthless it is.)

Hell with the exception of the G5 all being in love with her. She is treated like a regular character and not just "the woman"

It honestly feels like both Tashigi and Smoker got lost in the narrative and Oda just doesn't know where to put their arcs. It feels like she was being written to help Zoro overcome whatever mental block Kuina's death instilled in him about facing female opponents with his sword. But she is just sooooo far behind him it renders the point moot and strengthens his convictions (it's weird that he will literally crush a woman's face rather than use his sword and is the only reason I won't say he doesn't fight women he does he just seems to have a mental block about cutting them down especially if they fight with anything blade like) but also we've only ever seen him face female character he knows can't challenge him it would have been interesting to see what he'd do in a fight against someone like big mom, tsuru or smoothie doubt that will happen though. But here's to hoping for Tashigi to have an actual arc.

[zolo-san]

hi 👋 I made another community because I am ✨mentally unwell✨

so, to all of you little freaks (affectionate) who are very normal about The Heart Pirates, you should come join my community and be soooooo normal about them with me

[maskedbyghost]

You and Simon aren’t together. Never have been. Never talked about it, never even thought about it.

You just click. You always have. It started as a mission thing—paired up for some op because Price figured you worked well together, and then it just… stuck. You got each other in ways that didn’t need explaining. You liked the same things, moved the same way, anticipated each other’s actions before they happened. You didn’t have to tell him what you needed in the field, and he never had to ask you to cover him. It was easy. Comfortable. The kind of thing that felt natural before you even noticed it happening.

And then it bled into everything else. Eating together. Training together. Sitting next to each other on long flights, in debriefs, in the rare downtime you got between missions. It was never planned, never discussed. Just a thing that happened, like muscle memory. If you were in a room, Simon was there too, and if he wasn’t, he was on his way.

The others noticed, of course. Soap especially. He was the loudest about it, but even Gaz had taken to shooting you both pointed looks when you showed up somewhere at the same time, or when you answered Simon’s half-formed thoughts like you knew what he was going to say before he said it.

Which, honestly, you usually did.

It all comes to a head one evening, the lot of you gathered in one of the common rooms, half-done with the day but not quite ready to call it a night. You and Simon are on the couch, shoulder to shoulder, idly watching something on the TV while Soap, sitting across from you both, groans into his hands.

“You two make me sick.”

You blink at him. “We’re literally just sitting here.”

“That’s the problem!” Soap gestures wildly. “You do everything together. You finish each other’s bloody sentences. You know what the other is thinking. And you’re just—what? Friends?” He scoffs. “Aye, and I’m the Queen of England.”

Simon leans back, tilting his head slightly. “Don’t think you’ve got the legs for a crown, mate.”

Gaz snorts. Price, watching from his spot near the door, only shakes his head like he’s seen this conversation play out a hundred times before. (He has.)

Soap ignores them, pointing a finger between you and Simon like he’s solving some grand mystery. “There’s only one thing you haven’t done,” he declares. “You just need to kiss. That’s it. Only thing missing.”

Silence.

You turn your head. Simon is already looking at you.

There’s nothing in his expression that gives anything away—no smirk, no challenge, no humor in his eyes. He’s just watching you, waiting. And then, with a tiny shrug, he leans in and kisses you.

It’s short, unhurried. Just a press of his lips against yours, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. When he pulls back, his eyes are still on you, searching.

You don’t react. Not outwardly, anyway. You can feel Soap’s disbelief burning into the side of your face, hear the noise he makes—the strangled mix between a gasp and an outraged protest—but you don’t acknowledge it. Instead, you look back at Simon, forcing yourself to stay still even as your heart does something stupid in your chest.

Because, sure, maybe this was just to mess with Soap. Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe it was a joke.

But it didn’t feel like one.

Simon smirks and leans back, turning his attention back to the TV like nothing happened. “Happy now?”

Soap looks like he’s reconsidering every life decision that led him to this moment. “What the fuck?”

—

Later, when Simon walks you back to your room, he’s quieter than usual. His hands are in his pockets, his head tilted down slightly like he’s working through something in his mind.

“I wasn’t trying to make things weird,” he says after a beat. “Didn’t mean—well, didn’t want you to think it was—”

He stops, exhales sharply through his nose. “Just don’t want you to be mad.”

You glance at him. “I’m not mad.”

He nods, but his mouth pulls into something uncertain, like he doesn’t believe you. “Good. That’s—good.”

You reach your door and turn to face him fully. He’s still looking at you, his usual easy confidence nowhere to be found. And it’s funny, really, how the thought of kissing you in front of everyone hadn’t made him hesitate, but now? Now, he’s hesitating. Now, he’s thinking too hard about it. About you.

So before he can say anything else, you push up onto your toes and kiss him.

It’s quick, barely a breath between you before you pull back, but the impact is immediate. Simon’s lips part slightly, his brows drawing together like he can’t quite process what just happened.

You step back, hand on your door handle, and give him a small nod. “Goodnight, Simon.”

Then you slip inside, shutting the door behind you, leaving him standing there in the hallway, staring at the empty space where you just were.

And for once, Simon doesn’t have a single thing to say.

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

@daydreamerwoah @ghostslollipop @kylies-love-letter

[kaivenom]

can you do yandere shanks, mihawk, luffy, and zoro x reader where they are in love and want to be together but in order for the reader to leave there village, the reader father must approve of them. So the father challenges them to fight the strongest person in the village in order to win there hand

Yandere!OP men fighting for their darling

Characters: Mihawk, Shanks, Luffy, Zoro

Warnings: violence, blood, murder

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

When he heard the challenge, he instanly went to battle the person instantly.

He took out his tiny knife and started doing some pasive-agressive comments to the poor men that had to fight him.

It was humillianting to the other part, Mihawk was being the most disrespectful he has ever been... and he is always educate with people.

The battle lasts hours cause Mihawk doesn't do a final hit, just continues to give the other men small cuts.

At the end, the opponent coudln't stand anymore all the cuts and the blood loss and falls unconcious.

While the doctors get to him, Mihawk just goes to your father.

"I think i proved that i am strong, resilient and most important compassionate. I expect you to appreciate it." and then looks at you, "come to me my love."

Akagami Shanks

When he heard the challenge, he instanly smiled, like really scary smile... almost like he already knew that this was going to happen.

Many people went searching for their opponent but couldn't find him anywhere.

"Yeah, i think there is going to be a problem with that."

Everyone felt cold suddently.

shanks called his crew members and they appeared with a sack with blood on it.

They oppened and the head of the opponent falled to the floor.

Shanks said that it didn't mattered that you talked to that men yesterday, but apparently he had other plans.

"I assume no fight is needed. Let's get to the ship darling."

Luffy

When he heard the challenge, he was rabious, like a fight dog.

How could your father put obstacles for him, the future pirate him, taking his queen?

He fought bare hands while the other used swords, but still Luffy was so unstable that he won.

Even when the opponent was on the floor unconscious, Luffy was still punching him, forming a puddle of blod around him.

He wasn't listening to anyone so in an act of bravery you go running to him and take his face with your hands.

"The fight is over, you won me." his eyes locked with yours.

"Yes i did, and i expect your father to honour his word." you look at your father in an attempt to make him understand that if he doesn't do as said, Luffy would probably kill him.

Zoro

When he hears the challenge, a strange aura starts to get around him.

You have the feeling that something bad is about to happen, but couldn't imagine how bad.

Once the two opponents get to the battle, it took only two seconds to Zoro to just cut in half the other.

Takes his swords down and calmy goes to your father while everyone on the village starts screaming and crying out of fear.

One sword pointing at your fathers neck.

"Now, your daughter, or your destiny would be the same." his voice was low, almost like a grunt.

Your father lets you leave, but he couldn't hide his tremors.

[pomefioredove]

omg i LOVE the concept of cookies as asks so can i have a sugar cookie, #8, with chocolate drizzle and marshmallows thank yeww 🙏

t-t-total idia victory!

order #8, sugar with chocolate drizzle and marshmallows

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ internet connection

tropes: ex (mutuals) to lovers, roommate au characters: idia additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu

It was the closest experience to dating Idia had ever gotten, and likely the only experience he'd ever get again.

Three months.

Three perfect, blissful months.

That's 13.0357 weeks, 91.2501 days, 2,190 hours of chats, voice calls, and texts with someone he had almost considered his.

He was raising his confidence stats to ask them out when they sent him a message, which would be their last:

"router busted. sry. will get it fixed soon"

That was weeks ago.

Idia couldn't blame them. They were going to get tired of him eventually, and ghosting him, sucky as it was, was still the easiest way to let him down.

Then, at least, he could pretend that they were telling the truth.

"Come on, Idy! This is your chance! You'll never get over them if you never meet anyone else!"

Ortho's cheery, hopeful words twist Idia's stomach with guilt. He knows that. Of course he knows that.

He buries himself deeper into his blankets. "I don't want anyone else,"

"It's only for a few weeks. Maybe you'll make friends!"

Unlikely. Idia doesn't have the social XP for that. Who would want to be friends with him, anyway?

He can't even keep Magicord mutuals.

Then again, he has no other choice.

The Prefect had asked to stay somewhere with a high-speed internet connection while post-S.T.Y.X. Ramshackle was being repaired, and Ortho had volunteered Idia.

And his room.

Ugh. Why can't anything go right for once?

Idia hides under his covers like a small child, drowning the sound of the door and voices in PreMo.

He honestly doesn't know a lot about you. He doesn't get out much, and even if he did, you've always got those OP normie friends around you.

He knows you don't talk much. He's actually never heard you talk at all.

Whatever.

Idia only emerges from his blankets when his ears are ringing from the music and his body is sore from stillness.

He takes off his headphones and reads the room.

There's Ortho, projecting a beam of light on the wall, and there's Grim, chasing it, and there's you.

You seem a little out of place, awkwardly sitting on the floor when there are chairs and tables, your bags still at your sides, unpacked.

Something about you makes him feel at ease. Weird.

"Oh- Idy!" Ortho chimes. Idia jumps, and then everyone is looking at him. Crap.

"We were wondering when you'd come out! The Prefect has a question for you!"

You give Ortho a panicked look, as if to say you most certainly did not have a question for him. Idia has his own suspicions.

"About the Wi-Fi," Ortho chimes. "They really need to get online."

Idia narrows his eyes. His brother can handle something as simple as that.

"...O-okay," he mumbles. "I guess."

He reluctantly gets out of bed and sits beside you. At least with an objective, he isn't so nervous. You hand him your phone, some sad secondhand thing, and he puts in the password for you.

"Lemme know if it's slow. I've been working on upgrading the router, and it's been a little laggy," he hands your phone to you.

"Shouldn't be a problem, though."

You take it. "I can't complain, I don't have a router at all right now,"

Idia's face turns red.

His eyes go wide.

He can't place it, at first. What's that weird feeling? What is it about you-

You notice his expression. "Uh... did I say something?"

And when you speak again, just like that, Idia jumps to his feet.

"IT-IT'S YOU!"

"You?" Grim asks.

"You?" Ortho echoes.

"Me?"

Idia feels like he's losing his mind, his anxiety cracking and breaking away, shock taking its place.

"Y-yes, you! I know that voice! Don't you- you recognize mine too, don't you?!"

Your eyes widen.

"Oh... no... no way,"

"I-I can't believe this!" he says, suddenly grinning. "You weren't lying about the router, it must've got totally busted when S.T.Y.X- oh, crap. IT'S ALL MY FAULT!"

"Idy..." Ortho warns. "Your heart rate is-"

"I know! I know, I just- I can't believe it- you, of all people,"

He sits again, shaking. It takes you a moment to catch up.

"I... I wasn't lying," you mumble. "I've been trying to get a decent internet connection since we got back, but..."

"This is the guy?" Grim mumbles to you. He is ignored.

Idia feels lightheaded. This isn't real. This isn't happening. This is some weird dream.

He can't seem to stop grinning, anyway.

"Will you go out with me?!" he asks, without thinking at all. But not even the sinking feeling in his stomach is enough to ground him.

You stare back, your own eyes wide.

And then, in your familiar voice, in your familiar easing presence: "I'd like that,"

[butwhatifidothis]

Hoo boy if this ain't a doozy.

To start with: it's been some time but I don't think I've linked to Cap'n's fic before. Going through my older posts I have yet to find any that do. If anyone does find anything like that, I will immediately delete it.

But, yes. I'd only gone over the fic due to seeing how influential it was in the fandom, and I had continued going over the fic due to the various problematic elements OP listed out.

And, well, yes, that does very much include how Byleth, as she is presented as a mixed-race person, is portrayed in this fic. And I say this with no ill-meaning directed towards Cap'n as a person, since I'm pretty sure he wrote pretty much everything problematic in this fic due to ignorance and not malice; reading Byleth's character arc in his fic was genuinely extremely uncomfortable for me, as a mixed-race person. Here's a doc that breaks down why that is in a more detailed fashion than my critique does.

Off of that: the main issue I see with Raxis doing this with Reyna is that he seems to take deliberate actions to spread his critiques around as far as possible. He makes his pinned post on Tumblr a table of contents for his critique of Reyna's fic (which includes links to the fic he's critiquing, the series the fic is in, and her AO3 profile - these links also appear in his critique of the first chapter), he keeps bringing it up on his Twitter, he brings it up on the public Edelgang discord. It's not that it's wrong of him to vent or rant about things he doesn't like, so much as it is... kinda weird that he's doing it to a fic that has such minimal impact or influence regarding anything in the fandom, and doing so on at least three different platforms.

This isn't like Cap'n's fic, which was known to some degree to large portions of the fandom, or was taken as meta. Reyna's fic that Raxis is critiquing isn't touted out as required reading, no one is recommending it to VA's, it's incredibly new and was released during a low-point in 3H's general fandom activity, and it involves crossing over with a title fewer people in the general FE fandom (and especially 3H fandom specifically) have played. The only reason he'd likely even know the fic exists at all is because of Reyna's other much more popular fic... which as OP stated didn't seem to have had the same impact as Cap'n's did, and if it did then it'd make sense for him to critique that one instead of the no-name-nothing fic.

So honestly? It really comes off as Raxis targeting an easy fic to try and get attention. Especially when his spork has something like this passage in it:

(and to make clear, yes, I am still not blocked by him, despite what he's said in the Edelgang discord)

Bringing up my name in a completely unrelated fic for basically no reason but to bring me up... it's just very strange, in my opinion.

There's also the fact that Raxis has a history of both having it to where people harass others directly off of the posts he makes of them, and of harassing people himself. He's bragged about driving users off of Tumblr, and the people who used to send a shit ton of anons like this to us

are the exact same people who would go on to do similar things to Reyna's new fic, hours after he'd make his spork - down to copy-pasting his words verbatim again:

And while yes, Raxis can't exactly mind control everyone who reads his posts into not harassing people, he also, well. Has a history of this sort of thing happening with him, and one that has been made known by those affected by it for quite some times now. Given that, from my reading of his spork, his only real main gripes are that Reyna writes Edelgard poorly in a fic that no one but him cares about (in a way relating to "meta" that is), it just seems like it's... uncalled for? For him to so continuously go on about this fic on so many different platforms, especially when considering said history he has regarding harassment

Edit: Referring to OP saying I would delete certain parts of my critique: yes, that's entirely correct. I was asked if I would and I said yes, which was relayed to people who said they had contact with Cap'n, but no one was ever told which parts I should edit/remove. I said that I would delete everything if given the chance to speak with Cap'n and discuss with him all of the more problematic elements of his fic - not the strikes against canon, but all of the racism, sexism, homophobia, victim-blaming, etc. that was unintentionally being presented in a harmful way. Again, I was never given this chance to go through with this.

I am still willing to do this, by the way. But nothing has ever happened yet

It's okay if butwhatifidothis risks leading people to harass Captain Flash by going over his fic but it's not okay if Raxis does the same to reynaattheend?

Okay I feel like I want to get one thing out of the way before I go into this.

BWIIDT agreed to remove parts of the old reviews that were particularly rude or offensive if they were pointed out to her, something that was literally promised to the MODS of the Edelstan discord server (who claimed to have a direct line of communication to Cap).

So the guy literally had a chance to air his grievances with the posts and have the parts he didn’t like removed within reason, and we never got any examples of things to ask her to remove. So either she’s not as rude as people make her out to be, or they never actually cared about her critiques and haven’t bothered reading them, even when handed the literal opportunity to edit things out they didn’t like.

Additionally BWIIDT has said that she would be willing to remove all the postings completely if the guy would just hear her criticisms and learn from them, so he could better handle the racism, sexism, homophobia, etc. in his fic. Of which there is a lot.

I don’t know how you could possibly compromise more without just straight up being a door mat and pretending like this white man never had any issues with the way he wrote race and women.

Anyway as for why I view these as two completely different situations that are not really comparable IMO:

1) Cap’s fic is/was at the time literally being shoved at people. We were told to read it to “understand canon better”.

This isn’t just me saying this. I remember around the time before/slightly after BWIIDT started giving her criticisms of the fic I was seeing it getting recommended to a bunch of people. There were people on various social media sites complaining about the Edel crowd shoving the fic down their throats. I had it recommended to me on some different platforms, etc.

And that’s not just fans of the fics’ perception. Cap himself has stated that he views the fic as meta commentary on the game/discussion of canon, not just a fun little fic he did. And he’s happy people view it as essential for understanding canon.

As far as I’m aware, Reyna’s fic has never had that sort of culture around it, nor has she wanted it to have that kind of impact on fandom. I’m pretty sure she’s even explicitly stated that she KNOWS it’s not always aligned with canon and she doesn’t care, because it’s just a fun little project for her.

2) As far as I’m aware, BWIIDT never linked to Cap’s fic? I don’t even think she gave the title of it at first, it’s just that most people figured out what fic she was talking about BECAUSE of the aforementioned it getting shoved down everyone’s throats. But I wasn’t really following her in the beginning so I don’t remember, I’m sure she can reblog this posting if she wants and further clarify.

Raxy has literally been linking to Reyna’s fic on every posting and spelling out the full name of the fics and the author. Given his followers’ propensity for harassment (which he claims to not support) he really should have known better. He wasn’t “risking” sending her harassment it was basically a foregone conclusion.

He definitely should have taken all of the links down and stopped linking or naming the author or fic after it became clear people were literally going and harassing her, using his posts and material to throw at her. But as far as I’m aware he hasn’t done ANY of that.

3) I know from talking with BWIIDT since Raxy started harassing everyone here that she wasn’t going to bother with Cap’s fic originally, but then the annoying fans shoving it down people’s throats + she noticed a lot of very problematic handling of race that she wanted to talk about in greater depth = her discussing the fic at length.

I haven’t read through Raxy’s criticisms, but I feel like there’s a BIG difference between a woman of color pointing out the problems regarding race and gender in a fic (written by a white man) that’s being recommended to everyone as ESSENTIAL FOR UNDERSTANDING THE GAME vs. Some Guy Who Doesn’t Like A Random Fic

Additionally, I don’t really feel like it’s my place to tell her to shut up because, uh, it just feels kind of gross to tell her to just not be mad about the way the white guy is butchering the biracial experience when she’s a biracial woman and I’m not? Which again, very different from telling a 35 year old cishet white guy who is acting like a dick about anime chess to be less of a dick about anime chess.

4) And again, I also know for a fact that BWIIDT is just interested in critiquing/venting about the fic, and would be willing to stop making postings about it if Cap actually bothered to read the critiques and learn from the mistakes he’s made regarding the racism, sexism, homophobia, etc. in his fic.

But like, he keeps doubling down on it insisting that because he grew up next to a reservation and he has one queer woman doing his beta reading there could never be any problems with his handling of any of these sensitive topics, so he doesn’t need to listen to any of us ever, and people are still touting it as essential for understanding canon, and he’s still okay with that, sooooooo ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It’s VERY different from what Raxy is doing, which is basically just calling Reyna’s fics “cringe” and “not canon” from the snippets I’ve seen. He’s also blasting them over LITERALLY every social media platform he has for some godforsaken reason. Which like. If your goal was just to critique the fic why are you posting that shut EVERYWHERE?

5) I really don’t think Raxy is that bothered by the criticisms of Cap’s fic. He harasses people regardless of if they’ve talked about Cap or his fic, and after his aborted attempt to drum up harassment against BWIIDT on GameFaqs he came to Tumblr and started begging her to “do his fic next”

Like honestly I don’t even know what goes on in that guy’s head. Weird ass behavior. I really don’t care what he has going on, it’d just be nice if he’d act like the 35 year old he actually is and quit being so petty and childish.

Even if you think what BWIIDT did with Cap’s fic is wrong, why would it EVER be acceptable to drag an uninvolved third party into the mix and bash their fic and send them harassment as “retaliation”? Reina has nothing to do with this. She doesn’t even have fucking social media accounts outside of AO3. I know because I literally left her a comment to warn her about this clown and she told me.

What BWIIDT has done with Cap’s fic is admittedly a bit of a grey area, but ultimately I fall on the side of “whatever” with it because of the notoriety and influence on fandom fans of the fic desperately want it to have, and because of just how problematic elements of it are for various communities.

I mean you can’t go reccing a fic as essential for understanding the game and shoving it down the entire fandoms’ collective throat and then expect it to be treated like a 14 year old’s silly self insert fic when the people you told to read it critique it with the gravitas you assigned to it.

If you wanna critique BWIIDT for what she did with Cap’s fic, or critique me or anyone else for interacting with her, or you just think my logic is stupid and you want to critique that, then that’s… fine? I’m an adult, I’m a person, I know there’s places I can grow. But I’m sick of people acting like it’s okay to be a shitty person just because you got your feelings hurt once, so now it’s okay to go making it everyone else’s problem. And I don’t know if it was your intention to defend the guy with this ask anon, but it’s definitely happened too damn much with this guy and the Edelgard fandom as a whole.

That was another thing that really fucked me off in that conversation with the Edelstan server mods. I had one of them acting like I run fucking Reddit and I’m somehow responsible for some trolls calling Edelgard fans Nazis four fucking years ago. You can bet your ass I would get crucified if I tried to shit talk some random ass Edeleth fic and tried to justify it with “but it’s ok cuz some Edelgard fans were mean to me once :(“. There’s a reason why the fic being touted as essential for understanding canon is the one getting critiques and not any of the THOUSANDS of other Edeleth fics in existence. Because no one fucking cares about fanfics when they aren’t getting shoved down your throat and touted as “essential”.

I mean fuck dude, I got called a fake queer and an r-slur and intentionally triggered with genocide bullshit and had people talking about killing me. Am I going around harassing random fic authors over it? No, cuz I’m a grown ass fucking adult and I know how to act like it, and I know that 99% of the people who write/have written Edeleth fics had absolutely nothing to do with that.

So if you’re justifying going after Reyna with “but BWIIDT was mean to Cap!” Then knock it off, Reyna has literally nothing to do with this and you’re being shitty by trying to drag her into it. If you just did this to spork a fic, then you’re currently being a dick over a fanfic for no reason and clearly it’s leading to the author being harassed.

@butwhatifidothis if you wanna add onto this feel free.

[redroomreflections]

Something Like Peace

Secret Service Natasha and Presidential R

nothing like listening to the woman you're in love with talk about her husband.(atp i need to just fully develop this) Maybe I'm watching too much Scandal lately.

You didn't want to discuss this topic in the meeting. You didn't even want it to be an option that people considered. Yet here you were, one year away from your final year as president, and you were discussing reelection strategies. Someone had thrown the idea out there - remarriage. It left a bitter taste in your mouth. The senior advisors, donors, and political strategists sat with folders, charts, and polling numbers. Somehow, they'd all chosen to beat around the bush until this very moment.

"If you want to win reelection, Madam President… you’re going to need a husband."

Suggestions had been thrown around. Possible candidates who would make great First Gentlemen. Senators, congressmen, the former governor of a neighboring state, and the former Secretary of Education. All good men, and all not your type. The first gentleman would need to be someone you could trust. Someone you could be sure would do their job, but wouldn’t overstep their boundaries. Someone you could rely on. Someone you didn't want. You were not getting married again. Certainly not for love and certainly not for the country.

You allowed everyone to talk around you until Jennie Alba recommended an app.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to do some presidential version of Tinder to find a husband?”

A few coughs. Nervous glances.

You leaned forward.

“So I can parade him out in front of crowds and kiss him on the cheek like some state-sanctioned Barbie? Smile at the cameras while he whispers something vaguely condescending in my ear to prove that I’m warm? Approachable? Woman enough to lead?”

Someone tried to interject. You held up a finger.

“No. I’m not finished.”

You stood then, voice rising not loud, but commanding. The room went still. You needed to pace.

“You want me to trade my grief in for a photo op. With my husband not even being gone for the entirety of this run. You want me to water down my leadership so the public can sleep better at night knowing there’s a man in the picture, even if it’s all pretend. You want a storybook. A fairytale. The devoted widow turned blushing bride. And why? Because the country is uncomfortable with a woman who leads without needing to be led?”

Now you're pacing.

“I have stared down dictators. Ran a presidential election campaign all while coming home to breastfeed twins. I have buried my husband. I have raised three children while running this nation. And somehow, somehow, that’s not enough. You don’t want a president. You want a pageant.”

You stopped. Looking around at semi-guilty faces.

“You want a man to stand beside me so you can pretend he’s the reason I haven’t fallen apart. So you don’t have to admit that I did this without him. Without anyone.”

Silence.

Then, softer but lethal.

“I will not find a husband to make this country feel better about a woman in charge. I will not sell my life for your polling numbers. And if you think I need a ring to win this election, then you are the problem.”

You grabbed your folder. Stood tall. And left them stunned.

******

An hour later, you stood by a small table near the window, a framed photo in your hands.

It was him.

Your Andrew. Smiling in a way you only ever got to see. The kind of smile that made hard days easier, the kind that held up the world when yours was falling apart.

You brushed your thumb over the glass. Just once.

The door opened quietly.

Natasha stepped in, eyes scanning the room before settling on you. She didn't approach right away. She never did when you were like that.

“Just came to check in,” Natasha said softly. “Wanted to see if you’re well enough for me to go.”

You don’t turn around immediately.

“I’m fine.” You nodded to yourself. "You can go."

A beat.

“Do people ever ask you to get married?” you asked, still staring at the photo.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Can’t say they do.”

“Not for love. I mean for... appearance. For strategy.”

Natasha stepped closer now, careful with her tone. “No one expects that from me.”

You finally turned, the photo still in your hand. “Lucky you.”

Natasha watched you quietly. “Did they bring it up again?”

You laughed under your breath. “They want me to find a husband." You probably shouldn't have that conversation with your Secret Service agent.

"You know you don't need a husband, right? You're doing just fine on your own."

You shrugged.

Natasha tilted her head. "You are. And I'll remind anyone who tries to say otherwise. You are the president, and they should all be honored to serve you. You are enough. Husband or not. Ring or not."

"You should be my spokesperson."

"Only if it pays better," She joked. You cracked a small smile. "You miss him."

"I do," You nodded, holding the frame tighter.

Natasha watched your hands.

"When's the last time you went out?" she asked.

You raised an eyebrow. "Out where?"

"I don't know," Natasha shrugged. "Anywhere. Out."

"I have work. A country to run."

"But when's the last time you've gone out for something other than a rally or a meeting?"

"Well-"

"I'd start there," Natasha nodded. "If you're looking, of course."

"I'm not." You could tell there was a moment Natasha regretted speaking.

"Why not Maragrat Cannon? I mean, she was so miffed that you hadn't called her back." Natasha began. "Even gave you a raving review."

"You weren't supposed to listen to that conversation," You mumbled amusedly. Maragrat Cannon was an FBI chief you'd had a brief fling with months ago. Your first fling since Andrew had died. She had been nice, but it didn't last.

"We don't usually eavesdrop, but we were worried about her tone," Natasha teased. "You don't need her. Or a man."

"Thank you," You replied. "But I'm fine. Truly."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

Natasha nodded once, the kind of nod that meant copy that guard up, posture straight. Back in secret service mode. She took a small step back.

But you weren’t ready to let her go.

“Do you think it’s too soon?” you asked, your voice low.

She turned, surprised by the softness in it.

“For what?” she asked.

“To… move on. To be open. To even think about someone else.”

Natasha studied you. Not the President. Not the strategist. Just you, tired, grieving, holding your late husband’s photo like it still steadied you.

You swallowed. “Andrew just died. Sophia barely looks at me. My approval rating is hanging on by a thread, and I haven’t had a moment to just… be. So maybe this is a ridiculous question, but I just—” You trailed off. “I don’t know who I am if I’m not holding it all together.”

Natasha’s gaze softened.

“I think it’s not about too soon,” she said finally. “I think it’s too heavy. You’ve been carrying everyone’s grief on top of your own. And people forget that you’re not a statue, they forget that your heart’s still breaking too.”

Your lip quivered, just barely. You pressed it together to stop it.

Natasha took a slow step forward. Not too close. Just enough.

“If you’re asking if it’s too soon to feel again, to want peace, to laugh for real…” She shook her head. “No. It’s not.”

You blinked quickly. “Even if Sophia hates me?”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Natasha said it without hesitation. “She’s hurting. And she’s trying to figure out where to put it. Right now, she’s putting it on you because you’re the one person who will still be there after.”

You stared at her.

And Natasha, still in uniform, still technically on duty, gave you a small, honest smile.

“You’re allowed to be human. Even here. Even now.” Natasha watched you for a reaction. If you were any other person, she would have broken professional protocol and begged to go back to her room. She wouldn't have cared about feelings or questions or anything outside of her scope of practice.

But you weren't just any other person.

And Natasha wouldn't break protocol for just anyone.

"Thank you," You breathed, smiling at her.

"You could tell me about him," She offered.

"Oh, no, I shouldn't," You shook your head. "I'm sure you have somewhere to be."

Natasha shrugged, "Not right now."

"Don't you have a family?"

"I don't have much going on." She admitted. "Just waiting on my boss."

You sat down on the edge of the couch, the picture frame still in your lap. The room felt too big, too quiet, too late.

“You know the public story,” you said after a long pause, your fingers tracing the edge of the frame. “The headlines. The photos. The speeches we gave while standing next to each other. The ‘power couple’ fairytale.”

Natasha didn’t interrupt. When you gestured, she moved to sit in the nearby chair, close enough to listen, far enough to respect the space.

“But what they never printed,” you continued, your voice soft and distant, “was how we met in a politics and public policy seminar sophomore year. He was cocky. Smarter than me in ways that irritated me. And when he got up to argue about the ethics of foreign aid, I realized I was either going to strangle him or marry him.”

Natasha smiled faintly.

“We fell in love slowly. But completely.” You looked down at the photo. “I got pregnant with Sophia right after graduation. We were terrified. I thought my life was over. He told me it was just beginning.”

Your voice cracked, but you didn’t stop.

“He believed in me before I believed in myself. Always said I could lead a revolution and be home for bedtime stories. He loved my ambition. Never once made me feel like I had to shrink to keep him comfortable.”

You looked over at Natasha now.

“He wasn’t just my husband. He was my equal. My best friend. My center.”

There was a long beat of silence.

“I miss the way he laughed at his own bad jokes,” you added, more to yourself than to her. “And how he’d read every single draft of my speeches, even when he was tired. He always circled the metaphors in red pen. Said I used too many.”

Natasha let out a small breath of laughter. “That sounds about right.”

You gave her a teary smile.

“I keep waiting for the part where it hurts less,” you admitted.

Natasha’s voice was gentle. “Maybe it doesn’t hurt less. Maybe it just… stops being so loud.”

You nodded slowly.

“I didn’t expect to tell you all of this.”

Natasha shrugged again. “I didn’t expect you to ask me to stay.”

You looked at her, then really looked, and for the first time, you didn’t feel like the President. You felt like a woman sitting in a quiet room, talking about the man she still loved, with someone who saw her.

“Thank you,” you said again, quieter this time.

Natasha leaned back slightly, her posture relaxing, just barely.

“I’m still waiting on my boss,” she reminded you.

“Then you can stay.”

[a-hazbin-reader]

Just had a fun idea but like, what about hcs on how the others would react upon realizing s/o has feelings for Alastor? Like out of everyone they could've fallen for of it HAD to be him kjbgbkjs

Thanks for the consideration and take care of yourself op! Drink water, eat food, and know ur favs adore you!

Everyone finding out that wifey is married to Alastor??? 👀 That's what I heard-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: A little suggestive in the middle bit? Angel helps wifey buy lingerie

Description: ☝️⬆️

You meet everyone at the hotel separately from your husband, so they never make the connection until they actually see you two together

Except Niffty, Alastor just had her trailing behind him one day

"Niffty! This is my darling wife! She is the lady of the house!"

"Neat! I'm gonna go find some bugs!"

"...she's cute, Alastor."

"She's a menace in disguise, my dear~"

When you first met Husker, you were playing cards when he suddenly saddled himself next to you with the kind of confidence that only an overlord has

Luckily, the game was only for fun, the two of you competing against each other in friendly competition

It's a good time between the two of you, you're charming and witty, Husk just eats it up and keeps asking you to play another game

"You're pretty good at this aren't you, beautiful? Do you gamble often?"

You simply hum and politely sip your drink, carefully thinking about how you're going to turn down the overlord

"I don't tend to frequent these sorts of places but my darling husband and I are celebrating so it's a special occasion~"

"Husband?"

"Oh, he's harmless! A real romantic...~"

He deflates a little at the mention of your husband but moves on like nothing happened and that's the last you see of him for a couple of months

That is until Alastor comes home one day looking exceptionally pleased with himself as he sweeps you up into an impromptu dance

"Alastor~! What's gotten into you~?"

"Another victory under my belt, my dear~! You know how you've been saying you always wanted a cat?"

"No?"

"Well, I went out and got you one!"

You barely have time to ask him what he means when suddenly Husk is standing in front of you, looking shocked

"Oh Alastor...tell me you didn't go after him just because he flirted with me a little.."

"Of course not, darling~! I did it beca-he did what now?"

Husk looks around in bewilderment before his eyes land on you wrapped in your husband's arms, pointing at you accusingly

"HE'S YOUR HUSBAND!? You need to look up the definition of HARMLESS cause he ain't harmless!"

You meet Charlie because she quite literally runs into you, tears in her eyes and obviously upset

"I'm so so SO sorry! I-"

"Hey hey...what are you sorry for? Are you okay, my dear?"

You can't help but mother her, wiping away her tears as she tries to excuse her tears as nothing serious

"Would you like to talk about it? I can't just leave you crying out in the street like a lost baby, now can I?"

She sniffles pathetically and nods, letting you guide her somewhere more private

"Y-yes please..."

"Come now, we'll make some hot tea and you can tell me what's got you so worked up..."

You two grow attached to each other after that and make time to meet with each other at least a few times a month

She gets anxious when she hasn't heard from you in a while and calls you whenever she's upset about something, seeking your opinion

You listen to Charlie's problems and try to offer her advice or do what you can to help her feel better, sometimes she just needs a motherly hug

She tells you about her hotel and whether you believe in her dream or not, you support her because she obviously needs it

Other times, you two talk about your respective partners and gossip

"Your husband sounds so sweet! I've got to meet him one day! When he comes back, of course..."

You laugh at her enthusiasm, gently patting her hand to calm the excitable young woman down a little and trying to quell the sadness of his absence

"And this girlfriend of yours sounds like she really cares about you, I'd love to meet her."

You feel compelled to look after her, and Charlie sees you as a source of comfort if not a mother figure to her

So she eventually introduces Vaggie to you because you've been asking to meet her, Vaggie is just excited to meet the famous Y/N

She's heard so much about you from Charlie that she had to see if you were genuine, she had to make sure you weren't using her girlfriend

Only to be taken aback by just how much she ends up liking you, looking to you for advice just as Charlie does

She's geared up, ready to fight, when one day you two are suddenly cornered by thugs out on the street, only to be baffled when you take them out with ease

Just how powerful are you?

"Wait wait wait-how did you pull off that move? I've been trying to learn how to do that for months!"

You're casually fixing your clothes and rubbing your wrist, completely unfazed by the ambush

"It's just a little something I learned from my husband~ Would you like me to teach you?"

"Y-yes! Please!"

She readily accepts, and soon she's just as attached to you as Charlie is, looking forward to the times you agree to spar with her

Her and Charlie talk about how much they love you one night before they go to bed

"So....she's great right?"

"Charlie, I fucking love her."

"Right!?"

You meet Angel at a clothing store, the two of you shopping in the same section when you catch him staring hard at the gloves

"You should try this one, the color compliments you really well, and they're made from a good material."

He jumps in surprise, obviously startled by your sudden arrival, but does genuinely seem to look at the pair of gloves you're pointing out

Angel picks them up and tries them on, seemingly more than pleased with your picks, whatever thoughts that were weighing on his mind momentarily forgotten

"Thanks..! Uh, maybe I can help you pick something out?"

He gestures to the many different lingerie in your basket, you're obviously having a hard time deciding which one to get

You have the decency to at least look a little embarrassed, a soft blush taking over your features and making you look innocent

"Would you? My husband is back, and I just want to show him how much I've missed him..."

Angel guides you to the fitting rooms, obviously excited to be of help, he could be saving a marriage for all he knows!

"Sure thing, doll! You put on each one, and Angel Dust here will tell you which one will knock your man off his feet! If I know anything! It's how to turn a man on!"

Normally, you wouldn't even THINK about showing another man your body in lingerie, but hearing that and having an inkling of who Angel is, you trust him

And it's surprisingly fun! Angel helps you narrow it down to three favorites that are sexy and comfortable, it never once feels creepy or uncomfortable

"Now pose like this when he comes in! Yes! Just like that! Your hubby is gonna lose his mind when he sees you!"

You can't help but laugh, not at all feeling ridiculous but enjoying Angel's antics and enthusiasm

"Thank you, Angel. We should go clothes shopping together again sometime, I had a good time today."

He winks and holds out his phone to get your number before walking away, no longer seeming so...depressed

"And you'll have an even better time tonight! See you later, doll~!"

You two shop together on the regular after that, greeting each other with air kisses and judging people together

"Ugh, do you see the hair on that gal? What an absolute wreck!"

"That hairstyle wasn't even popular when my husband and I were alive...ugh..."

"When am I gonna meet this man of yours anyways?"

"When he stops going to a tailor and agrees to come shopping with me~"

You're laying in bed with Alastor one night, nuzzled under his chin and cuddling in his arms when he suddenly speaks

"You know that little...project I've been working on?"

You're nearly asleep, the feeling of his thumb rubbing your arm soothing you more than he realizes

"Mhm..."

"Well, I was thinking maybe I could take you with me tomorrow...everyone there has been dying to meet you."

You open your eyes to look at your husband, smiling at him as you lean up to kiss him softly

"More people who don't believe that you have a wife? I'll be happy to set the record straight~"

He chuckles and rolls you two over so that he's on top of you, kissing down your neck as his hands push up your nightgown

"I can't wait to show you off to everyone~"

The next day, Alastor takes your arm in his and leads you inside, you're more than a little surprised to see that his project is a hotel

You're a bit shocked to see so many familiar faces in front of you, Niffty running up to hug your leg and Husk giving you a lazy wave

Charlie, Vaggie and Angel are all staring you like you're a ghost, eyes slowly moving from Alastor to you over and over again

Charlie drops her tray of snacks in surprise, rushing up to give you a bone crushing hug while Vaggie stands in front of Alastor as if to protect you

"Y/N! What are you doing here!? Are you here to give redemption a try? Oh, I knew you would come around!!"

You laugh and hug her back while patting her head, gently prying her arms off of you so you can pet Niffty

"It's good to see you too, my dear princess, though I'm here with my husband."

Vaggie's jaw drops, and she whips around to look at you, jabbing a finger at Alastor as you see her trying to digest the truth in front of her

"You! A-and him!? The Radio Demon?!"

Alastor takes the opportunity to pull you back to his side, a loving arm around your waist as you happily lean on him, hand on his chest

"Everyone! This is Y/N, my lovely wife~! Y/N, please tell them all that you're here of your own volition and that you are happily married to the most wonderful demon in all of hell!"

You hear Angel trying to hold in his laughter, obviously flashing back to the many conversations he's had with you about your mysterious husband

"Yes yes, I'm happily married to him and I'm not under any mind control or deal or anything else like that~"

You can hear Vaggie's soul leave her body, Charlie's delighted squeal and Angel's uncontrollable laughter at the sight of you and Alastor rubbing noses in an obnoxiously cute manner

"This is the guy you've been buyin' all those sexy clothes for!? Oh my fuck!! This is too good!"

"I can't believe Alastor was your husband this whole time!! I knew he was secretly a big softie! Oh my gosh! You should hear how he talks about you it's so cute!!"

"...I don't get what you see in him..."

"I don't either, you know that when I first met her, she called him HARMLESS? She's delusional."

"He's a bad boy and she LIKES IT~!"

Your husband looks at you in confusion, gently stroking your cheek

"All this time I spent singing your praises to earn you a decent reputation around here was for nothing? I should've known you'd have stolen their hearts already~"

You smile and kiss Alastor's palm sweetly, earning a chorus of cooing and disgusted noises from your audience

"Actually, I've met everyone here before, darling... it seems we've been unintentionally been keeping our a marriage a secret from everyone!"

Charlie is just so enamored with the way you two interact as a couple, her eyes sparkling whenever she watches you two together

Vaggie is just disappointed in your taste in men and shakes her head whenever you two are affectionate, secretly she thinks it's cute

Angel gets a kick out bugging Alastor about the clothes he helped you pick out, always asking him if he liked the lingerie

Husk is just thankful for the distraction you prove to be for Alastor because then he has more time to himself, encourages you two to go on a lot of dates

Niffty is just crazy as always 😜 She likes you two together though and will stab anyone who tries to separate you two

This one took so long!! I hope you like it!!

[kaleldobrev]

Old Man

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary: Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (13x), Sexual Innuendos, Dean talking bad about himself, Frat guys giving Y/N the disrespect she doesn’t deserve Authors Note: Me and Jensen have a 17-year age gap – what’s your age gap? | This came out A LOT longer than I expected | I don’t know how to write frat guys xD | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You and Dean pulled up in front of a gas station; needing to stop for gas and maybe a few snacks before the two of you continued your almost four-hour long journey back to the Bunker. You and Dean had just spent the weekend in Lawrence, due to the very rare occurrence that there were no cases. You had told Dean that even though you’d been living at the Bunker with him and Sam for the past couple of years, you had never once been to Lawrence even though you could have easily made a day trip out of it. With that being said, Dean was more than happy to take you and show you around, reminiscing about some of the things that he remembered doing all those years ago back when he was four; back before everything. But that’s not all the trip was, you had done some other things too; like visiting the Biodiversity Institute and Natural History Museum – which was considered to be one of the best museums in the entire state of Kansas, along with Grinter Farms – who prided themselves on their sunflower photo-ops. You enjoyed both places immensely, and were happy that Dean did too, even if he wasn’t initially keen on going to either place at first.

“I’m gonna grab us some snacks while you do the pump.” You said, grabbing your wallet from the glove compartment. Once you closed it and before you exited the car, you looked over at Dean, who was currently giving you the most serious look on his face. “What?”

“You already know what I’m going to say Sweetheart.” His tone sounding just as serious as his facial expression had looked. 

“Pie.” You said in unison.

“Cherry or apple?” You asked, the two of you getting out of the car at the same time.

“Like you have to ask.” Dean stated, opening up the fuel cap.

“Just making sure Dean. I mean, I don’t want to come out with apple when you really wanted cherry.” Your comment earned a slight chuckle from him.

“I’ll be getting some cherry pie later, don’t you worry.” He winked.

“I don’t think that applies to me anymore.” You smirked.

“We can always pretend.” He started fueling Baby just then. 

“Now that’s a roleplay idea I can get behind.” You winked at him before making your way into the store.

As soon as you walked into the store to grab some snacks for the two of you – one of which needed to be pie; a car pulled up the next pump over with a group of about four men who all appeared to be from the University of Kansas solely based on their Jayhawks apparel. “I don’t know dude. I’m pretty sure that chick was into me.” One of the men said, causing the one that he was talking to, to roll his eyes.

“No dude. She was into me. She was giving me the old fuck me eyes. Did you not see that? Or were you too busy looking at her ass?” He laughed. It was the other guy’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Can you blame me? You could bounce a quarter off that thing.” The young man replied.

“Hell yeah you could!” The other one agreed, giving each other a high five. 

There was a part of Dean that found their conversation funny because he had remembered when he was like that; but it hadn’t been for some time. Yes, there were times when he was still like that, but it was solely reserved for one woman: and that woman was you.

“Check out that piece of ass in the store there.” Another one of the men who hadn’t talked before was talking now. His comment caused Dean to turn in their direction and then back into the store. There was no other person that they could be talking about but you, as you were the only person in there besides the clerk behind the counter; and Dean was pretty sure they weren’t talking about the balding clerk.

“Bet she’s a good fuck.” One of the men said. Oh you have no idea. Dean thought to himself. 

“I’ll bet you thirty bucks that I can convince her to have sex with me.” The first guy said, the one that had noticed you in the first place.

“Dude, there’s no fucking way she’d have sex with you.” The next guy said. “Look at her! She’s way out of your league. Plus, even if you could pull her, where are the two of you gonna do it uh? The dirty gas station bathroom?” 

“Sure why not? I bet she wouldn’t mind it at all.” He winked. His comment caused Dean to chuckle a little to himself, knowing how wrong that guy was. You and Dean have had sex in a variety of different places, but never a gas station bathroom. “Dean, as much as I love you, I’m not fucking in a gas station bathroom. That’s honestly my only limitation.” You once told him. “So, Waffle House bathroom is okay then?” He joked back, causing you to give him a playful smack on the arm from his remark. 

“Dude, she’s not gonna give you the time of day. She needs a real man. And that ain’t you.” The man started walking around to the other side of the pump and started making his way toward the store. You ain’t a real man dude. Dean thought to himself. None of them were what he would call a man, only boys pretending to be.

“Watch and learn boys!” The guy said using his most charismatic voice. Dean wasn’t worried at all; he knew that you would never give the guy the time of day. You two had been together for the last couple of years, and the group of quote on quote men weren’t remotely your type in the slightest. Dean had seen pictures of your previous exes or have worked cases with them before. All your previous exes besides about one were all hunters; not varsity jock looking guys, and that’s what those guys were.

“Hey kid, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean finally chimed in. At first, he wasn’t even going to say anything. He had almost wanted to see the boy come back out the store with the look of utter embarrassment on his face when you had rejected him; which he knew was going to happen. But the jealous side of him won in that moment. He knew that you were more than capable of handling yourself – you were one of the best hunters he’d ever seen or worked with. He’d seen you get hit on plenty of times either when you two went to the bar together or while working a case; but those men never seemed like threats to him. But this time, this time felt different for him.

“I’m sorry?” The guy questioned.

“I said, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean said, his voice a bit more stern than usual.

“What’s it to you?” The guy asked, giving a slight snort.

“She’s going to reject you buddy. Trust me.” Dean finished filling the car up and put the pump back in its place. “Just trying to save you the embarrassment in front of your buddies here.”

“Oh yeah? Why do you say that?” The guy turned to look at you. You were currently standing at the counter laughing, probably at something the clerk had just said with two apple pie containers in your hands. Although Dean couldn’t hear your laugh, the sound of it echoed in his brain. God, he loved the sound of your laugh.

“That piece of ass” Dean began to say, hating using the words that they had used to describe you, “is my girlfriend.” Dean smirked. He had hoped that his usual tactic would work like it had done in the past. In the past, whenever Dean was with a woman; regardless if she was his girlfriend or not, the minute he said the word girlfriend to another guy that was hitting on his girlfriend, date, etc. the guy would usually back off, not wanting to get into any trouble. But his usual tactic didn’t work, it had simply just made the guy laugh.

“Your girlfriend?” The man laughed again. “Yeah, okay Old Man.” 

“Old, Old Man?” Dean was caught off guard. No one had ever really called him an old man before; the only one who ever did it was Claire, but she was the exception, because she was basically family to him.

“Yeah. What are you? Like 50?” The guy behind him chimed in.

Dean turned around. “50? You think I’m 50? I’m 42 dude.” Yet more laughter from the men.

“Close enough.” The man that was close to the store said. At that moment Dean had saw you wave goodbye to the clerk and started to head out toward the door. The man looked at you, and then eyed his buddies, making his way toward Dean. “Listen, tell her that if she wants someone that can keep it up without the use of meds and doesn’t go to bed before 6, to give me a call.” The guy said, giving Dean’s shoulder a slight pat before going into the car with his other three buddies.

Dean started to take out his gun just as the guy in the driver’s seat started the engine. Before he could fully take out his gun you were standing next to him, two boxes of pie in your hands and a slight look of worry on your face. “Can I shoot them?” He asked you. 

“Not in public.” You responded, handing him one of the boxes. “What did they say to you?” You were curious, and you had every right to be. Even though you were accustomed to Dean pulling out his gun, you were confused as to why he had wanted to pull it out in that moment, especially since you were pretty sure that the men in the car weren’t any kind of monsters.

“Nothing.” Dean was quick to respond, but his response sounded angry, almost hurt.

“It didn’t look like nothing. Especially since you asked if you could shoot them.” Dean handed you back the box of pie that you had just given him, causing you to give him an even more worried look.

“Can we just leave?” His voice was panicked now, maybe with a small hint of embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Was all you said as the two of you got into Baby.

There was a strong silence between the two of you, and it wasn’t the comfortable kind like you were used to. That was one of the things that you had loved most about Dean; that you and him didn’t constantly need to fill the silence with talking. It was something that you enjoyed because your past boyfriends always needed to have some kind of conversation going because they hated the silence. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Always.” You turned your attention to Dean.

“Am I…Am I old?” He asked. His eyes flicked in your direction and then back onto the road.

“Old?” You asked, not sure if you had heard him right. Him asking if he was old was something that had caught you off guard.

“Yeah. Am I old?” He repeated again.

“Did those guys back there say you were old Dean?” This conversation topic was something that Dean would have never brought up, not unless someone had specifically said something to him. The last time he had this conversation with you was because Claire had jokingly called him an Old Man.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Dean stated. You were positive that’s what it was.

“No. You’re not old Dean. I don’t even know why you would think that.” You knew why he would think that; you were pretty sure that the men back at the gas station had said something to him about it. But you didn’t know why they would have said something to him.

“Those guys back at the gas station called me…Old Man.” His voice sounded slightly defeated, like he was embarrassed even though he had no reason to be. “I caught those assholes looking at you, making comments.” He turned to face you for a slight moment before looking back at the road, his knuckles started to turn white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “They were trying to make a bet about who would be able to pick you up. When I confronted them about it, telling them that you were my girlfriend, that’s when they laughed and called me an old man.”

“Dean –” You began to say, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“Sweetheart, I know you could have handled that yourself. You have a black belt in three different martial arts and you don’t take any kind of shit from anyone. Hell, a part of me had wanted to see you embarrass the guy because I know for a fact that he isn’t your type but…he was your age.” He was your age. 

“Well, you’re not old. It’s not like you’re 90 Dean. You’re 42. That’s still young.” You stated, putting your hand on his thigh, a small gesture that you knew he loved. You had hoped that your comment would make him feel slightly better.

“I’m not young Sweetheart, you are. I got like 15 years on you.” His response made your face drop.

“That’s never been a problem for you before. I mean, it’s not like I’m 17 Dean, I’m three years shy of 30.” When you first met Dean, it was roughly five years ago when you were 22 and he was 37. Initially when you had first met him, you had figured that the two of you would be nothing more than just friends due to the semi-massive age difference that there was between the two of you, despite the fact that you did find him attractive. For the first couple of years that you knew him, you didn’t try to pursue anything; and neither did he, although the two of you had similar feelings. Dean had figured that you wouldn’t want to be with someone his age, and you thought that he didn’t want to be with someone your age. It wasn’t until Cas said something and both of you almost dying on a hunt that caused you two to realize that maybe you should give it a shot – and you’ve been together ever since.

“Exactly. You’re three years shy of 30. I’m far, far past that. You know what I was doing at 30? Trying to stop the Apocalypse. When I was 30, you were still in high school. You weren’t even on my radar back then.” 

“Would have been pretty good jailbait though.” You joked.

“Not funny.” He responded.

“I’m not laughing.” You said back.

“Can I ask you another question?” His knuckles were still white against the steering wheel. 

“Of course.” What else could you possibly say?

“Why me? Why out of all the guys you could possibly be with, that are your own age, that you actively choose to be with me? I mean, I know I drink too much, I have way, way too many screws loose, I’ve been to Hell, Purgatory, been possessed more times than I can count, I have major trust issues, PTSD.” He looked over at you again. “The list goes on and on. I’m all kinds of fucked up Sweetheart.” Your heart sank at Dean’s comments. You hated more than anything when he talked bad about himself, because there was no reason for him to do that. 

“Pull over.” Was all you said.

Dean looked at you with a confused expression. “What?”

“Did I stutter? I said pull over.” Your voice was stern now, but it made Dean pull over on the side of the road.

“Dean, the fact that you even have to ask me why I’m with you shows me that you don’t actually realize or understand the reasons why I love you. You’re right, I could be with someone my own age. But you know what? I don’t want to. I’ve dated people my age, and they honestly suck. Hunters or not, men my age or even a year or two older have no fucking clue what they want in life. The only thing they’re positive about is wanting to fuck anything that has a pulse and gaslight women.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “My parents used to tell me, ‘not all men,’ and I knew that. You may have a slight case of alcoholism –”

“A slight case?” Dean interrupted, raising an eyebrow. He thought you saying that he only had a slight case of alcoholism was a tad too generous.

You pointed a finger at him. “Don’t interrupt me.” Dean put up his hands in defeat. “As I was saying. You may have a slight case of alcoholism, are insanely prone to nightmares, get angry more often than you probably should, enjoy murder every now and then, have been to Hell and Purgatory and back, but wanna know something? I’ll take all of that, gladly! Because you are honestly the best man I could ever ask for. Yes, you have some flaws, but who doesn’t? I mean look at me for example.” You went into your jacket and pulled out your hunting knife. “I’m someone who brings a hunting knife wherever they go like it’s a security blanket. No normal person does that Dean.”

“As you should. You need to be prepared at a moments notice.” He agreed.

“Exactly! No sane person would agree with me.” You said, putting back your hunting knife.

“Y/N, are you saying that part of the reason you’re with me is because I’m not sane?” He raised an eyebrow. He’s been called crazy or insane more times than he could count, so this wasn’t particularly newsworthy for him.

“I was thinking more…cautious.” You shrugged. “I mean…No, cautious isn’t the right word. You are cautious but…” You were really trying to come up with the right word to tell Dean, and you could feel it on the tip of your tongue. “What I’m trying to say is, any other guy would be freaked the fuck out if they saw me walking around with a hunting knife in my jacket. You? You couldn’t give two fucks. And you wanna know something else? I’ve worked with a lot of hunters over the years before I met up with you and Sam, who just looked at me and laughed because of my age, thinking that I don’t know the difference between rock salt and holy water.” You took one of his hands in yours intertwining your fingers. “You, not including Sam of course, accepted me as someone that actually knows a thing or two about hunting despite my age. You treated me like your equal. Hunter or not.”

You treated me like your equal. Your words rang in Dean’s mind. “Of course I treat you like my equal Sweetheart. What man wouldn’t? ‘Sides those other hunters and the Jayhawks spirit squad back there.” He chuckled, and you let out a small laugh too.

“Exactly. You’re a feminist icon.” You smiled.

“A feminist icon uh? Who knew?” Dean finally smiled.

“In all seriousness, I could give a rat’s ass about your age. You treat me right and my parents love you. What else could I possibly ask for?” You gave his hand a slight squeeze as you shot him another smile, but a softer one this time.

“Still amazed that your parents love me.” He said, starting to lean in closer to you.

“You treat their daughter right. That’s all they care about.” You confessed. When you had first told your parents about Dean, one of the first things they asked is if he was treating you right, they never asked about his age. And when they had met him, they still never commented on that fact, even when he wasn’t in the room.

He caressed your face. “I really am lucky to have you.” He smiled and leaned in fully to kiss you. “I love you so much.”

You smiled. “I love you more.”

He let out a slight chuckle. “Show off.”

“Always.” You responded, leaning in to kiss him again.

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s April ficrec Frenzy

Hi everyone, what a goldmine of fic potential these last few episodes have been!! Facetime! Lore drops! Fic gaps! DANGER! Are we not thriving? Well I'm back with another round of fic that I've read and loved over the last month, from these incredibly talented authors.

As always you can find previous rec lists here.

12 April 2025

children behave, that’s what they say when we’re together by Elgney Buck and Eddie are together at last, and they're super happy about it. One problem, Chris has JUST left for camp, and Eddie really wants to tell him before they share the news with anyone else. Buck can tell Maddie, of course, but they agree to try and keep it a secret from the rest of the firefam...how hard could it be? Super sweet and very funny, yet another fic from this author that had me smiling so much.

defined by its absence by @ghostlandtoo amnesia fic, amnesia fic! Eddie wakes in Texas missing eight years of his life...when Chris walks in, no longer a toddler, but a fourteen year old boy. His parents are cagey about his life, and Chris won't look at him properly. And then a stranger called Buck turns up, saying he's his best friend. Will Eddie remember? This one really aches, and weaves the tangled web of emotions so beautifully. No easy answers, just a lot of faith and feeling.

i love you, i'm sorry by @ithilien-writes Moving to Texas was never actually the plan; or at least, it was never actually Chris's plan. From his POV, this gorgeous fic explores what it means when you react and retreat in hurt and anger, and then have to deal with the consequences. Particularly when the adults in your life have their own issues. Such a strong Chris voice, this really made me feel for him and Eddie as they find their way back to each other.

i forget that you're not mine by @bexism five times eddie forgets that he and buck aren't a couple (and the one time they actually are). In which Eddie returns from El Paso having imagined all the ways he and Buck could make a life together...and in a accidentally kisses Buck about it. Funny and knotty and wonderful team dynamics, *Buck voice* Oh Eddie.

they won’t listen (they won’t look) by @polkadotk804 in which Ravi discovers Buck and Eddie’s relationship and is tasked with telling the 118, but he slowly goes crazy when no one believes him because Buck and Eddie are just ‘like that.’ Through it all, Ravi doesn’t realize just how much his 118 family loves him…until he does. < op's summary is perfect, so I'll just add that I LOVED this.

drive me, crazy by @markofalover a 8x12 & 8x13 coda, in which Raphael the cashier assumes Eddie is talking to his partner on the phone, and Eddie doesn't know how to correct him...and then it turns out everyone in El Paso thinks he and Buck are together. Brilliant use of the facetimes and communication hijinks to feelings acknowledgement.

loving life, a new degree by @sonofatoasterwaffle Buck has no shortage of fantasies about Eddie. Eddie doesn't mind indulging him. This time it involves something lacy, a whole lot of trust, and established relationship sexual exploration. Let's just say that when it comes to Annalee's incredibly hot smut fics, both Buck and I are seated.

8x14 codas (spoilers ahead!)

oh, lift up your head, boy. by @atlasblue85 Chris is at the diner with friends after school in El Paso when he sees the news. He calls Eddie about it. Love this teenage voice for Chris, and the dynamic with his friends and with Eddie. (I also really love the long distance ballroom dance reveal coda tainted love's too fast to dance to from last week!)

hurts so bad when you finally know by @clusterbuck Eddie's been trying to get in contact with Buck all day, hoping to catch him between rides, but he can't get through and it's making him tense. This one took me out at the knees. And the Chim coda too (linked within), exploring his thoughts about Maddie and his family as the sickness takes hold...absolutely devastating!

stay, stay by @try-set-me-on-fire 8x14 coda and 8x15/16 spec. At 8:36 AM, Maddie’s phone rings. Eddie is calling and Buck isn't doing well. Gut wrenching, looking at Buck beyond breaking point.

the losing touch, the waiting game (i promise to be there this time, alright?) by @chronicowboy a series of texts and answerphone messages from Eddie to no response. Little but mighty, this packs a punch!

And a bunch more codas from 8b to be found in my regularly updated ficrec tag (Anyone got any Ravi coda recs???)

See you next time!

[orellazalonia]

What We Fight For

Summary: Thrown into a tense alliance, you and Bucky Barnes clash into a rivalry with cold stares and harsh words. But when a rooftop fall, a late-night patch-up, and a brutal argument strip away both of your defenses, the truth hits harder than any mission ever could. (Bucky Barnes x Super soldier!reader)

Disclaimer: Reader has a similar serum as a super soldier.

Word Count: 3k+

A/N: Apologies if this seems messy. It’s not really a power that gives me much to work with, but it turned out alright in the end. Happy reading!

Main Masterlist | Whispers of the Gifted Masterlist

You weren’t recruited. You were assigned.

Born from a black-ops experiment the government quietly buried once the serum stabilized, you were a living weapon they kept in their back pocket. A contingency plan. When word came that the Avengers might need more muscle in the field, they didn’t ask. They deployed.

You didn’t come to make friends. You came to fulfill orders and win.

And yet, here you were, staring across the mat at Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier himself, while Sam smirked from the sidelines and Steve muttered something about “team bonding.” You were here to train, but Bucky had that look again that said you’re not welcome here.

“Again,” You say flatly, shrugging out your jacket and stepping onto the mat.

Bucky’s jaw ticks. “Thought you’d had enough yesterday when I put you on your ass.”

Your lip twitches. “I slipped.”

“Sure you did.”

He circles you slowly, assessing. His arms are relaxed at his sides but you’re not fooled. He’s reading your stance, waiting for your weight to shift, for your hips to square. You’d be insulted if you weren’t doing the exact same thing. You lunge first, test him. He blocks it easily, metal arm catching your strike mid-air. You twist, pivoting into a sweep that nearly clips his ankle, but he hops back with a grunt.

“Getting slower, Barnes,” You mutter.

“You talk a lot for someone who hasn’t landed a hit all week.”

The sparring sessions had started as training. Then they became contests. Now, it was just war. He didn’t like the way you fought. It was too sharp, too efficient. You didn’t like the way he looked at you, like he recognized something he hated in himself.

You fake going left and land a solid elbow to his ribs on the right. The air leaves him in a hiss. He recovers fast, but not fast enough to stop the cocky grin that pulls at your mouth.

“Gotcha.”

He narrows his eyes. “Beginner’s luck.”

He rushes you, sudden and aggressive. For a moment, you're toe-to-toe, exchanging blows with brutal precision. Metal arm meets gloved knuckles. You both move like predators. Mirrored, practiced, and too much history in your blood to fight sloppy. Eventually, you end up on your back, panting, his knee pinning your chest, breath hot against your cheek.

“Yield,” He growls.

Your fingers flex against the mat. “Not a chance.”

He hesitates for a beat too long and that’s when you slam your forehead into his nose. He yelps, a very undignified sound you wish you had recorded, and rolls off with a curse, cradling his face.

You scramble to your feet, wincing slightly from the impact. “You get distracted too easily.”

He looks up, eyes narrowed, blood trailing from his nose. “You’re insane.”

You toss him a towel. “Takes one to know one.”

For a moment, the room goes quiet, both of you catching your breath. Then he says, “They trained you like me, didn’t they?”

You don’t answer. You don’t have to.

“I can tell,” He continues, voice lower now. “You fight like you’re not allowed to lose. Like you don’t know what it means to stop.”

Your jaw tightens. “Then stop underestimating me.”

“I don’t,” He says quietly. “That’s the problem.”

The air shifts. Charged and uneasy as you both stand there, bruised and sweaty. Too close and too silent. Then Steve’s voice cuts in from the hallway.

“Good session, you two.”

You step back. Bucky wipes his nose. Neither of you says another word. But the next day, he’s already waiting on the mat before you get there. And he doesn’t hold back anymore.

-

The compound is quiet at midnight. The kind of stillness that wraps around you and presses into your bones. You slip into the kitchen in your sweats, body sore from training, head still buzzing from the adrenaline you never quite know how to shake. You don’t bother turning the lights on.

The fridge hums in the background. The tile is cold beneath your feet as you reach for the kettle. Then-

“You always drink tea like you're in a British spy movie, or is this just your midnight ritual?”

Your spine stiffens. You recognize the voice behind you, of course you do. But you don’t turn around, acknowledging him in a flat tone. “Barnes.”

“Didn't peg you for the insomnia type.”

You glance over your shoulder. He’s leaning in the doorway like he owns the room. Loose black t-shirt. Arms crossed. Shadows catch the angles of his face just enough to make his scowl look carved.

You gesture at the kettle. “Some of us have things on our mind.”

He steps into the kitchen, walking past you to open the cabinet above your head. You don’t move from your spot. He reaches over you, brushing against your shoulder on purpose, you’re sure. His body heat trails behind him like a warning.

“Stealing my tea now?” You ask flatly.

“You took my towel earlier.”

“You were bleeding on it.”

“I was using it.”

You roll your eyes and pour the hot water into two mismatched mugs. He raises an eyebrow when you slide one over.

“Poisoned?”

“Not yet.”

You both sip in silence as the fluorescent light over the sink flickers. He leans against the counter across from you, sipping slowly as he watches you. He always watches like he’s looking for something, maybe cracks in your walls.

“You always like this?” He asks.

You tilt your head. “Like what?”

“Walled off and sharp edges. Acting like you don’t need anyone.”

Your jaw tightens, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “Better than acting like you used to be someone else.”

His expression darkens. The silence stretches. You should apologize, but don’t.

“Right,” He mutters, setting the mug down. “Guess we’re both good at pretending.”

You don’t look at him, but your voice comes quieter than intended. “Maybe we don’t know how to stop.”

He hesitates, and you notice something shift in his tone.

“You hit hard,” He says.

“You go easy on me.”

He scoffs. “I don’t go easy on anyone.”

You glance up at him. “Then maybe I hit harder than you expected.”

His lips twitch, just slightly. “Maybe.”

You stand there for a moment, two supersoldiers in the dead of night, staring at each other over mugs of tea like it’s some kind of game neither of you knows the rules to.

Then he says, voice lower now, “You’re not like them.”

You blink. “Them?”

“Soldiers. The ones they send. You’re colder, smarter. Meaner.”

You smirk. “Flatter me some more, Barnes.”

“I’m saying I know what it feels like to be made for war and expected to act like a person afterward.”

Something sinks in your chest. Deeper than you want it to.

“You think I’m not a person?” You ask.

He looks straight at you. “I think you’re trying real hard not to be.”

That lands too accurately. Way too close to the bone. You grip the mug a little tighter. He notices, but doesn’t push.

“I’m going to bed,” You mutter, setting the mug down.

As you pass him, his voice follows.

“Don’t forget tomorrow. Training at seven.”

You pause in your tracks, glancing back at him with narrowed eyes.

“You trying to kill me?”

“No,” He says with a ghost of a grin. “If I was, you’d already be dead.”

You smirk just a little. “Maybe you’re getting slow.”

His smile fades, but something warm lingers in his eyes.

“You wish.”

And for the first time, your heartbeat feels less like a threat, and more like a dare you don’t know whether to act upon.

-

The comms crackle in your ear as the wind howls around the rooftop. Rain slicks the concrete beneath your boots. Below, the city lights blur and flicker, distorted by smoke, shadows, and chaos.

The mission was to apprehend the target then turn them in. A simple in and out. Something you should have been able to complete with ease.

But you had been ambushed.

You skid across the rooftop, breathe ragged, blood sticky under your ribs. Something’s broken, probably more than one thing, but you don’t stop. You can’t.

Bucky’s voice cuts through the storm as he calls your name, sharp and commanding, “You’re heading for the west corner. That fire escape’s blown out. Stop moving.”

You ignore him. Every second wasted is another second the target might vanish. You need to cut them off. You need to move.

“Damn it—”

The roof crumbles under your weight. You drop.

It’s not far, three stories, maybe, but pain flares bright as you hit a ledge hard, the edge of it catching your side with a crunch. You roll, barely catching yourself before you slide off completely.

And then he’s there. Hands on your arms. Dragging you up, fast, rough, and angry.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Bucky’s face is too close, eyes wide, rain streaking through his hair. “You were told to pull back!”

“I had them!” You wheeze, swallowing the metallic taste of blood. “We can’t let them run-“

“You can’t breathe.”

You try to shake him off. He doesn’t let go.

You hiss, teeth gritting, “I didn’t need your help.”

“That’s not what it looked like when you were halfway to death’s door.”

His grip tightens on your arms, but it’s not pain he’s trying to inflict. It’s panic he’s trying to hide. His metal hand is cold from the rain and trembling just slightly. You hate that you notice.

You turn your face away. “I’ve survived worse.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is it?”

“That I care, damn it!”

The words slip out hot and ragged, louder than the rain.

You freeze and so does he.

The only sound for a moment is the wind, and your breath, shallow and uneven between you. His hands drop away from your arms slowly, like he’s just realizing he touched you at all.

He backs up a step. “Forget it.”

You stare at him, stunned. Blood is still soaking through your shirt, but your heart is thudding hard behind your ribs and not from the pain.

“You care,” You echo quietly, almost like a question.

He exhales, clearly frustrated and embarrassed. “Forget I said anything.”

“I didn’t think you did.”

“I didn’t want to.”

You look at him. Really look. There’s a flicker of something soft beneath all that steel. Vulnerability edged with guilt. It’s the one of the first times he’s looked at you without his guard up. It’s one of the first times you’ve looked at him without wanting to hit him.

“You should’ve let me fall,” You whisper.

He shakes his head. “No. I shouldn’t have.”

He pauses for a moment before adding:

“And I wouldn’t have.”

You say nothing as he steps closer. He doesn’t touch you this time. Doesn’t need to. But his voice drops to a murmur only you can hear, “You don’t have to keep proving you don’t need anyone. I already know you don’t. But that doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere.”

You hate how much it rattles you. You hate that you believe him. You lower your gaze to your hand, still bloodied, still shaking slightly from adrenaline.

When you speak again, your voice is barely audible.

“Help me back up.”

He does.

This time, his hand stays in yours longer than necessary. And neither of you lets go first.

-

You hate medical bays. Always have. Sterile light. Quiet beeping. That faint scent of alcohol and regret. You had shooed away the staff, saying you could do it yourself and would call if you needed anything.

You sit on the edge of the bed, shirt peeled halfway off, bruises blooming violet-black across your ribs, blood crusted at your temple. You’ve already tried to patch yourself up, but your hands won’t stop shaking and the gauze keeps slipping.

Bucky walks in without knocking.

You glare up at him. “Ever heard of privacy?”

He tosses a med kit onto the table and takes off his jacket. “You lost that privilege when you almost threw yourself off a roof.”

You scoff, but don't argue.

He opens the kit, pulling out antiseptic and gauze, and stands between your knees without asking. You don’t stop him even though you should, his admission earlier still echoing in your mind.

He dips the cotton in alcohol. “This is going to hurt.”

“I’m not new.”

He raises a brow. “Then stop flinching.”

You open your mouth to snap something back but he presses the soaked cotton against the gash on your side before you can, and pain sparks like electricity up your spine. Your hand shoots out instinctively and grips his arm. You feel the muscles tense under your fingers.

“Still not flinching?” He murmurs.

You grit your teeth. “Screw you.”

His lips twitch, barely.

The silence that follows is tight and thick, like something fragile stretched to the edge of breaking. His hand moves gently now, slower, wiping away blood. His touch is careful in a way that makes your chest ache more than your ribs.

You glance up at him. He’s too close. And he’s not looking at the wound anymore, he’s looking at you.

You could lean in. Just a little. You could close that impossible space and finally… you don’t. He doesn’t either.

Instead, he murmurs, “You don’t take care of yourself.”

You look away. “Don’t need to.”

“Bullshit.” His voice is low. Angry. Not at you, at whatever taught you to think like that. “You treat your body like it’s disposable.”

“Maybe it is.”

The silence that falls after that isn’t the kind you fill. It’s the kind that hurts.

He gently presses a bandage against your ribs, then tapes it in place. His fingers linger on your skin for a moment longer than necessary.

“You’re not disposable,” He says quietly. “Not to me.”

You freeze. There he goes again.

The air shifts. Then you do something you didn’t expect, you reach out and touch his jaw. Just two fingers, gently as if to test the weight of your own choice.

He doesn’t pull away. But he doesn’t move closer, either. You draw your hand back like the moment never happened. But it did.

“I’ll change the dressing tomorrow,” He says, voice rough.

“I’ll be fine,” You reply, just as quiet.

He turns to leave before stopping in the doorway.

“You don’t have to keep doing things alone,” He says without turning around, and then he’s gone.

You sit there for a long time after. Holding your breath like it’s the only thing keeping you from falling.

-

As time passes and you’re assigned to go on more missions, the tension between you and him builds for better or worse.

You had recently returned from a solo mission. The compound is quiet, but the air inside the training room crackles with something volatile. You slam the door behind you, furious.

And he’s already there. Bucky’s pacing with his gloves off and shirt clinging to his back. His jaw is tight and his hands are fisted like he’s been holding back from punching something or someone.

“I told you,” He growls, not even looking at you, “Not to go in alone.”

“I handled it.”

“You were shot.”

“I’ve been shot before.”

He spins on you, blue eyes wild. “That doesn’t mean it’s fine!”

You throw your bag down, with a frustrated sigh. “Why do you even care, Barnes?”

He’s on you in seconds; closer than he should be, breathe sharp with adrenaline and frustration.

“Because I’m tired of watching you bleed for people who wouldn’t do the same for you!”

“You think I don’t know that?” You snap. “You think I don’t feel that, every time I’m stitched up in some cold-ass medical bay while everyone else celebrates the win?”

His face is stone, but his eyes… God, his eyes are raw.

“Then why?” He demands. “Why keep doing it? Why keep throwing yourself at the fire when you know no one’s coming to pull you out?”

You try to shove him hard, but doesn’t move. You hate that he cares. You hate that he can’t just ignore you and view you as a tool like everyone else. When you go to answer, your voice is loud and it cracks:

“Because I don’t know how to stop!”

There it is. The silence after that is explosive. You’re both breathing hard, staring at each other. Daring the other to say something that will break the last barrier you’ve both kept between yourselves. That fragile, stupid boundary you’ve both pretended exists.

He takes a step forward and you match him.

His voice drops, dangerous. “You think I don’t see it? How you act like you hate me, just to keep from admitting you don’t?”

Your heart kicks into your ribs. “You don’t know anything.”

“I know you fight me harder than you fight anyone else.”

“Maybe because you deserve it.”

His jaw flexes. “Or maybe because you’re scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of wanting something real.”

You watches you flinch like he hit you, but he doesn’t back down. “You act like I’m the enemy, like pushing me away makes you stronger, but every time you fall, you look for me. Don’t lie.”

You swallow hard. “Don’t act like you don’t do the same.”

You’re chest to chest now. The air is boiling. You can feel the heat coming off his skin. Your hand is still curled in the fabric of his shirt from when you shoved him, but you haven’t let go.

He looks at your mouth and you look at his. The moment stretches before it breaks.

“You want to hate me?” He breathes. “Then say it.”

You stare at him, trembling now.

Say it, You tell yourself. End it. Push him away for good.

But the words won’t come. Instead, you whisper, too soft, too vulnerable:

“I don’t.”

That’s all it takes.

His mouth crashes into yours like a dam breaking. Like something starved, angry, desperate. You kiss him back just as hard, fingers in his hair. His hands grips your waist, then your back, then your face like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold all of you at once.

It’s not gentle. It’s not clean. It’s everything you’ve both tried not to feel. But it’s real.

When you finally pull back, barely, his forehead rests against yours. No words are shared. Just slow shaky breathing and the terrifying, undeniable truth:

You don’t hate each other. You never did.

[merbear25]

Unpacking what's been piling up (Corazon, Law, Kid, Caesar)

With everything that’s happened and you not being given the appropriate amount of time to process, giving yourself just that was going to be a long journey. Noticing the weight you’d been carrying and how it’d been draining you, he was there to offer you what you needed most.

a/n: just something to help me deal with things with a random mix of op men.

Corazon, Law, Kid, Caesar

CW: SFW, gn!reader, drabble, angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, light cursing in Kid’s

Corazon: The state he found you in wasn’t how you wanted to start the conversation, but perhaps him seeing you with your broken heart was for the best—nothing could have made that moment more vulnerable. Not needing the context, he went to comfort you.

“What’s happened? Are you hurt?” Concern dripped from his lips. When you turned to him, there was no stopping the tears from flowing.

At first he couldn’t make out what you were saying, you choked on your words each time you attempted to talk.

He held you against him and stroked your hair as you tried to collect yourself. “Take your time. Don’t rush yourself. I’m not going anywhere.” Giving you that meant more than he may ever realize.

After allowing yourself that much needed time, you poured your heart out. “Why did they invite me if they were just going to ignore me? I don’t understand… did they just want to hurt me?” There was no contest when dealing with heartache, whether it was from a lover, family member, or friend that pain struck the core.

His brow furrowed as he recalled similar treatment you faced in the past. The reason as to why you had such misfortune would never justify what you were going through. Seeing you break down after opening yourself to a friendship that turned out to be one-sided tore him apart. He wanted to help you understand that their cruelty was not your weight to bear.

“I don’t know why, sweetheart, but they’re the ones with the problem, not you.” His voice was teetering on the edge of shared sorrow, trying to restrain himself so that he could be your rock.

“You’ll find friends—real friends.” He placed a firm kiss on the top of your head. “I promise you will.”

“What if I can’t? I don’t know if I can handle much more of this, Rosi…” He could feel his heart shattering at your words. How could he not have noticed the extent of this? He felt terrible because here you were all this time alone and afraid.

“Oh, my sweet, you deserve so much more than what you’ve been dealt. I know life can be cruel, believe me, but it isn’t all bad or all good. It simply is. There is a light to the darkness you’ve faced, trust me. I’ve seen it for myself.” The words just kept coming, hoping that there could be something for you to cling to for support. Admittedly, he wasn’t sure if anything he was doing or saying was the right thing. He just wanted you to know there was a chance at happiness.

“I just want the pain to stop… It hurts so much.” You choked out those last words. It felt like the pain would never end.

“It will, and I’ll be here to help every step of the way.” Cuddling you close, the warmth he gave you seemed like the only beacon of hope that there were others like him who could care about you like he could.

Law: After experiencing a loss, you went into an emotional tailspin. At times you found yourself in the eye of the storm, a false sense of calmness that would undoubtedly end. These gale force winds felt like they had no way out. There was so much you wanted to say to them, but no chance of allowing yourself to do so.

“It’s so unfair!” Seething through your teeth was the emotion you’d been reluctant to let loose.

Those words rang true for him. He watched you pacing back and forth to the point you could’ve created a rut in the floor. The anger of pained hurt and betrayal you were experiencing, it was everything he could sympathize with. An unfair world that picked and preyed on those most vulnerable, and yet you were still here fighting the odds stacked against you.

There was something refreshing about seeing this side of you. It was as if all those layers were being peeled back. He watched you let out the steam that was searing your flesh.

“I feel like everything was taken from me, and they’re not even around anymore to apologize for it, to… to yell and scream at. They’re just gone.” 

The fury streamed down your cheeks at knowing you’d never get that confrontation you deserved. Cooled from the iced mourning for the relationship you needed but never received, your next words were teased on your trembling lips. With the flood of animosity being swept away by grief, Law finally came to your side.

You knew he of all people would understand the depth of the waters you were drowning in. His arms tightened around you, acting as the life preserver in the rising tides. Gripping onto you more tightly, his own afflictions of the past were being brought out.

“It is unfair; you’re right.” He didn’t know what else to say other than everything you were feeling was justified. You had every right to be angry. “But you’re still here.” Such a simple observation at a glance that burrowed deep beneath surface level.

You could live the life you deserved. As he kept you close, all the rage from before twisted into the grief of what should have been. There was no changing the past, only the future you wanted for yourself.

While he held you against him, there was no stopping the second wave of tears. “Why was it so hard for them to love me?” You buried your face in his chest and cried to your heart’s content.

Although he wasn’t one to express himself freely, he was still capable of being there when you needed him most. More than just a shoulder to cry on, he cared for you more than you ever thought someone could.

“They didn’t deserve you,” he mumbled. If he could, he would take away all the pain you’d been carrying, instead he would be the one giving you the support you were void of for all those years. “You can be happy and be loved in spite of them.”

Kid: He was in the spirit to wreck something. To be fair, there weren’t many times he wasn’t in the mood to do that. Pissed off and looking for a target, many nearby scurried out of his line of fire. Your soft cries were muffled from behind the door, but Kid’s ears tuned in without any problems.

Marching up to the door, he pounded on it without thinking. “What are you crying about this time?” His unchecked rage pulled out your own.

You swung open the door and matched his energy. “Can’t you take a second to think before you act?” Your eyes were slightly reddened and puffy from the long hours of sobbing. He was caught off guard for a moment, but he wasn’t going to let your retaliation slide so easily.

“It’s not like I have much time to think when all I hear are your cries about this or that!” That stung just as he intended.

“What is your problem? No matter what your first reaction to anything is to punch or kill it!” You tried slamming the door in his face, but he slapped his hand to it to stop you.

“Well, maybe you should take a page out of my book? You’re angry, just be angry for once instead of hiding away in your room.” He was right—you were infuriated and with no real outlet, you had reduced yourself to forcing down any real chance at change.

“Fine!” You barged past him and hurried to the rotten tree trunks nearby. Following behind you, he felt like this was the push both of you needed: a place to unleash everything that was eating away at you.

“Go on then! Think of everyone that did you wrong and let go!” He shouted at you from behind. You grabbed an axe and let out a scream as you drove the blade down. When the stump split in half, you could hear his booming laugh cheering you on. Even though there were things about him that drove you mad, he knew how to push you.

Without warning, he charged up to your side and blasted a punch through a tall tree. The force behind it sent shock waves to the surrounding areas. He turned to you in a huff: his face red and sweaty, his sadistic smile from the physical exertion, and the panting from the thrill.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nodded and smiled back at him. “Yeah, it does!” Going to the next stump, he stopped you.

“Don’t waste your energy on pure adrenaline. You gotta concentrate it. Think of someone who did you so dirty, someone who you despise more than anyone else.” He watched you intently, seeing those gears turn in you as you envisioned that special person made him proud that you were finally taking some of his ideas seriously. “Got it?”

“Yeah.” You gripped the handle harder and your breathing became labored as all that hatred bubbled within you.

“Let fucking loose!”

With a power cry of rage, you threw that sharpened blade straight through the center of the rotten stump. Gritted teeth, tingles of pain prickling through your arms: you could feel every ounce of your distress being taken away. Steadying yourself, you took a moment to catch your breath.

“Feel better?” He came over to you and placed his hand on your waist to pull you close.

“Yeah, actually… Who knew you could give good advice?” Your teasing words made his cheeks flush a bright red.

“I always have good ideas! You just need to pay more attention.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed while you headed back with him.

Caesar: Humming to himself, he was absentmindedly wandering the halls in search of you. The good mood he was in caused the typically ominous clouds of gas to morph into lighter puffs. Finally finding you, he perked up at the sight. Your back was turned to him, blinding him to the pain you were carrying.

“I’ve been thinking, we should celebrate.” When you didn’t immediately ask what the occasion was, his eyes narrowed but he continued cheerfully. “You might be wondering why, but what other reason do we need than my overwhelming achievements.” 

He couldn’t resist chuckling at his own idea for self-indulgence, but when you didn’t match his enthusiasm, the joy on his face fell. He nearly shouted to get your attention, but the sniffle and quick wipe at your cheek stopped him. 

Oh, you were crying… he grimaced slightly at the displeasure of not exactly perfecting being able to comfort someone, but he knew he couldn’t just leave you there. However, he had many masks, so putting one on in order to approach you would suffice.

“Oh, my dear, what’s got you so down?” As he got a closer look at you, the genuine pain in your expression nearly caused that mask to crack.

“Just being tormented by the past more often than usual today.” You didn’t spill your guts to him immediately because you understood him well enough to know emotions weren't his strong suit.

He smirked slightly. “Is that all? What a silly thing to be upset about.” There was a hint of relief in his voice.

“What do you mean ‘is that all’? And it doesn’t feel ‘silly’ to me.” Just once you wanted him to be able to sympathize with you like any other person.

Standing idly by your side, his eyes casted down on you. There wasn’t any judgement in his gaze, though. You hadn’t really shown any frustration towards him before; it felt as if he was chipping away to the core of you. With a light sigh, he pulled up a chair next to you. His back was to the table and he propped himself up by his arms. He crossed his legs as he mulled over his own bitter past.

“You know, the past has long since died. All that anger and hatred can only live if its host allows it to.” The nonchalant tone carried itself to you easily.

Turning to him, your tears halted and your heartbeat was growing steady. “But how am I supposed to kill off these parasites?”

He smiled to himself. “There’s no one way, actually. But, if you don’t do anything, then you’ll just rot in the past.” Perhaps those words weren’t just meant for you. Self-reflection wasn’t something he was used to, but being around you had him doing it more and more often.

Shaking his head as if to rattle out those emotions peeking through, he gently patted your leg before getting up. “Well, I’m going to celebrate. You’re free to join me, of course.”

While you watched him go towards the door, a smile twitched at your lips. You went to follow him, your first step towards leaving the past behind you.

[jyeoulzhu]

giselle being reader hallway crush and they are too shy to make a first move, then karina notice that she always saw reader in the hallway and got curious.

thank u author

wingman

summary . y/n had been admiring aeri everytime they encounter her in the hallway... well karina has other plans for them

pairing . aeri uchinaga x gender neutral reader

u got a crush. a massive crush. hallway crush type shit.

every day, same routine. giselle walks past, and suddenly, ur phone becomes the most interesting thing on earth. or the poster abt “choosing kindness” that looks like it survived a war. or the floor. wow. look at that tile.

u think u smooth.

karina thinks u r delusional.

“bro,” karina deadpans, catching u mid-phone-stare, “u are so embarrassing.”

u scoff. “idk what ur talking abt."

“u have been in this hallway at this exact time every day for three months.”

“…coincidence.”

karina stares. “coincidence my ass.”

then she pulls out her phone.

u get a bad feeling.

“what r u doing.”

“getting u a girlfriend.”

“WHAT—”

before u can tackle her, she yells out—

“YO, GISELLE! COME HERE!”

ur soul leaves ur body.

giselle, oblivious and gorgeous, walks over. “what’s up?”

karina grins. “y/n has something to say.”

she dips. leaves u to DIE.

giselle tilts her head, smiling. “yeah?”

u forget every language known to man.

“uhh… hi.”

she laughs. “hi.”

karina is behind her, aggressively motioning at u.

SPIT GAME, BRO.

ur brain malfunctions.

“i like ur—” u panic, “—shoes.”

…she is wearing crocs.

u r GOING TO JAIL.

but giselle?? giggling??? “thanks, i like urs too.”

karina facepalms. u can hear it.

“so,” giselle leans in slightly, “u gonna keep staring at me in the hallway, or are u finally gonna ask me out?”

u r fighting for ur LIFE right NOW.

“uhhhhhh,”

“yes,” karina answers for u.

giselle laughs, pulling out her phone. “here. gimme ur number.”

u r about to drop ur phone out of sheer shock. somehow, miraculously, u manage.

giselle winks. “see u tmrw, hallway weirdo.”

she walks off, leaving u in ruins.

karina pats ur back. “ur welcome.”

u glare. “op behavior.”

she shrugs. “and yet, i got u a date.”

…okay. fair.

so boom. u got giselle’s number.

U HAVE GISELLE’S NUMBER.

but now u have a problem.

what the fuck do u text her.

karina watches u stare at ur phone like it personally owes u money. “bitch.”

“shut up, i’m thinking.”

“thinking about what?? ‘hi’ is free.”

“NO IT’S NOT, SHE’LL KNOW I’M OBSESSED.”

karina stares. “GIRL u been standing in a hallway for three months waiting to see her. she knows.”

u r betrayed in 4k.

“this is why ur the ops.”

“and yet,” she smirks, “ur still asking me for help.”

u have never known suffering like this.

karina snatches ur phone and types something. before u can tackle her, she sends it.

“U PSYCHO WHAT DID U DO—”

u look.

she texted

-

y/n

you like jazz?

-

…fucking kill me now.

“R U INSANE.” u r about to FIGHT.

karina cackles. “trust. if she likes u, she’ll think it’s funny.”

u sit there. waiting.

-

aeri

LMAO what 💀

r u abt to drop a bee movie monologue rn

-

OH.

OH WE MIGHT BE COOKING.

karina grins. “SEE??”

u r in disbelief.

“…so what do i say next.”

karina rolls her eyes. “bitch. ask her out.”

u freeze.

“right now?? isn’t there, like, a talking stage or something??”

karina grabs ur shoulders. “DO U WANNA DATE HER OR DO U WANNA ROT.”

…damn.

so u text.

-

y/n

maybe… but actually, u wanna grab coffee sometime??

aeri

ooo finally making ur move hallway weirdo??

i’m down <3

-

U WIN. U FUCKING WIN.

u stare at ur phone. then at karina.

“…did i just rizz.”

karina smirks. “u barely survived, let’s not lie.”

[apollodarling-writes]

thinking about task force 141 + könig with a gen z! reader.

tws : some suggestive themes but nothing explicit, cursing, ghost has no problem with the reader slapping his ass pls don’t mistake it as being nonconsensual

edit : it’s come to my attention that some of you are confused as to why i made a post like this. this post was made to be satirical and cringey and embarrassing. i am part of gen z and using the terminology that was all the rage in recent years to make something like this. it’s not a serious post. it’s made to appear the way it appears.

reader, walking past soap : youre looking very submissive and breedable today, johnny.

soap, shaking his head and tutting : i am not!

reader : big talk for someone within breeding distance.

ghost, trying to make a cup of coffee :

reader who takes notice of ghost’s ass and slaps it : god damn! i knew you had jiggle physics

ghost, slowly setting down his cup and turning his head : i’m giving you a five second headstart.

reader realizing they fucked up : oh shit.

reader knocking on price’s office door : knock knock! can i enter, captain price?

price, trying to finish his stack of paperwork and knows reader is up to something : …sure

reader : this is a vibe check! what do you think of this?

price, glancing between the picture and reader : … its nice.

reader whose eyes light up : you, my good sir, have officially passed the vibe check and that is why you’re my favorite captain.

price, exasperated : im your only captain.

ghost talking to soap : johnny, you ever feel… lost?

reader suddenly appearing with stress balls and plushies : here, these help me! this weighted stuffed animal hits different, so i recommend it personally.

ghost :

soap : where the hell did you even come from??

reader posing for a picture with the team before a mission : and everybody say “in our special ops era”!

the team, sullenly : in our special ops era…

reader : damn guys, this lighting is doing wonders for our dark circles.

könig trying to carve something for reader: hmm.. this side looks a little bit off…

reader bounding over to könig : heyy babygirl!

könig scrambling to hide it : scheiße, i thought they were busy!