#or am i just stupid or did i miss some shit that made it standard to just call it differently or sth

[ganondoodle]

serious question, are there ANY (wired) headsets made today anymore that have seperated plugs for audio and microphone??

usb ones always cause trouble and the only other ones i can find are those with combined audio+mic into one plug, which i dont have the ports on my PC for.............

i tried looking through adapters but the only ones i can find are those that combine seperate ones, id need the reverse (if thats even possible)

(visualization bc i feel like i am losing my sanity trying to explain what i mean, am i stupid? did i halluzinate the two jack/plug thing???? do only cheap garbage ones have this??? is that one of the gaming chair things??? like oh you want a GAMING headset- that means either combined or usb haHA???)

[arolesbianism]

Some au antag doodles

[changelingsandothernonsense]

The people need to know where Josh would and wouldn't jerk it

Hello!!! I'm dying for a Josh attitude laugh so without further ado, Joshi's Top Ten Best and Worst places to jork it in Skyrim Province. If this does well then he might write a list about Morrowind and or Cyrodiil. Under a cut for being very NSFT

The Best of the Worst!

10. Best My room at Severin Manor.

Yeah, obvious I know! But you tell me that your house isn't probably the best place to jerk it without worry... I just gotta remember to lock the damn door... or not. Fuck um... Ah...I guess this would also go for my room at the Netch. I do remember to lock that door. I have some standards!

10. Worst The Gray Quarter

Why I don't fucking want to jerk it here? One, it's fucking freezing, which is already a turn-off. Two, it's a fucking slum where the walls are made of paper and everyone in the whole district can hear you. Do you hear that Malthyr?! I can fucking hear you!!! You're not that fucking appealing! I'm soft now! 9. Best The counter top of Sadri's Used Wares

Yes I know it's fucking crass, but who're you talking to? It's fucking funny to look my now wife's ex in the eye after I've done it too an he has no fucking idea! Yeah fuck you too dude, clean-up on isle seven. I am a jealous, petty mer but I am atleast aware of it. 9. Worst Morthal

It's a vampire infected swamp! Who the fuck decided to build a town in a cold, wet marsh!? I want their number, I got words for 'em an I'm not gonna be pleasant. Like I'm minding my business in whatever excuse for an inn they have there an this chick just sits herself on my lap like I was asking for it. Corruption sees corruption you know- she knew what I was an I her. Flaccid for a good few days after that near miss so there was no opportunity to jerk off anyway. You know how fucking hard it is to get clean yourself in water taken from a swamp? Give Morthal a skip unless you're into swamp vampires. 8. Best When in Riften

Sydari drags me to Riften fairly often to check on "business". Said "business" is in a secret hidey hole in the sewer an naturally I'm not allowed down in the super secret hideout. That's fine- it's fine! Anyway I get her house to myself a lot of the time (unless her ex husband has decided to ruin my day). Honeyside has it all, a lake I can swim in, a bath, a workshop I can tinker in... Look I may have chosen specifically to come in Brand-Shei's bathrobe after he broke my nose out of spite an I don't apologise for doing it. Fucking heir to House Telvanni? Bastard wouldn't even qualify to lick the guar shit from Neloth's shoe! Um...what was I talking about? Oh right-

8. Worst The Thieve's Hidey Hole

The cistern smells exactly like you'd think it does. Think about how Riften smells like stagnant canal fish water and stale piss. Now turn that up to ten an you have the fucking Cistern! No I'm not meant to be down there an yes I did follow Sydari down there once when I was bored. The guild can have it. I'm not jerking it here. It stinks! 7. Best A Jarl's Throne

This is more a fetish of mine idk I just think it's fucking funny to break into a throne room, rub one out on the great big chair an fucking leave without anyone noticing. Ultimate power move in the face of a self-congratulatory bastard who got that seat through an accident of birth. Taking them down a peg turns me the fuck on an I'm not gonna apologise for it! No I haven't jerked off on Ulfric's throne yet but that stupid fuck in Falkreath had a fun morning! 7. Worst The sulphur flats of Eastmarch

If it's not Hircine worshiping witches with a goat head fetish then it's dragons or wolves or Stormcloaks. It smells like the ass end of Red Mountain (also not a recommended place to jerk off). Look, there was one time ol' Sanguine got in touch with me whilst I was with my girlfriend an we kinda ended up in a weird marriage pact with a hagraven. It's not sexy I can assure you. There's just a fuck tonne of beasties that could ruin your me-time. It's just not worth your time. Also there's a group of Ashlanders that follow Ulath-Pal that have set up camp there an they kinda want the head of the Urshilaku Ashkhan...and I like my neck the way it is. Having said that.

6. Best The Eldergleam Sanctuary.

But TELDRRYYNNN you whine! That's a place of worship! You complain. Hey! Hey! Who are you talking to? I do not give a fuck! Look Sydari an I camped there an we had a huge fight over me being me. I left an found me a secluded little corner by a waterfall. Had a pretty rainbow and everything. I was actually relaxed for once an things just kinda went that way. It's a nice place to get yourself off... Spriggans not withstanding. Do not tell the Dragonborn that I'm the reason for everyone in that sanctuary being chased out by angry Spriggans, kay? No I haven't learnt anything from this an I'd do it again simply because of the above-mentioned thing about how defiling a place of power getting me off.

6. Worst Candlehearth Hall

I'm not allowed in here. None of us Dunmer are allowed in here! It's in Windhelm so I'm not really inclined to stick about yeah? Like sure I could ruin something but the atmosphere here just makes me painfully soft so... I'll piss in that cunt's stew though! 5. Best Any Temple of Talos

Because of the irony. BECAUSE OF THE FUCKING IRONY! 5. Worst. Bandit Camps

The temptation's there, I get it. You've cleared out a camp full of second rate idiots and you've pilfered their treasures. You're fucking tired an maybe you found their drug stash...usually you've found their drug stash an you're all prepped to pass out after blowing your load in the chief's bed. Take a second to think because I sure as fuck didn't an now I got another scar on my ass!

That was some real post-nut clarity right there! 4. Best Markarth's Dwemer Museum

Look the whole reason Calcelmo an that fetching nephew of his even have a museum is because of my research. The guy had my favourite sword an dagger in a case which like I appreciate the Crescent was in good hands an all but like also they're mine. It's all mine...I have a possession problem I guess. No I haven't rubbed one out here yet but fuck...my mind is so fucking warped! Like I would! I want to. FUCK!

4. Worst Wolfskull Cave

A cave near Solitude, seemingly inconspicuous and you might be tempted to take some time to yourself, yeah? Guess again. First thing you're gonna notice about this cave is that it smells like rot. That's your first sign it's probably not a great place to whip your dick out. Secondly you're gonna find the place is crawling with undead and fucking necromancers! Look, I'm not the best around anything dead an walkin. I avoid burials like the plague. I'm fucking terrified of it! I spent the whole time trying not to lose my cool in there. I spent all night trying not to freak the fuck out. Last thing I was doing was playing with myself.

Oh look, top three! I'm surprised you've made it this far in my guide to jerking it across Skyrim. I guess I should throw in some special mentions, DO jerk off as close to the Thalmor Embassy as you can. It's hot to make those stiffs angry and I know they wish they could taste me. DO NOT jerk off in the Blue Palace coz you will get caught and they will put you in a dungeon. Don't go in their dungeon I'm serious! Also don't try both in one night because you're drunk and lonely. It doesn't end well. Anyway... 3. Best The beach near Nchardak

I have a small camp set up on the beach near the ruins. Spent a fuck tonne of time there when I was "working" with Neloth on the puzzle locks there. It's where I used to go when I'd had enough of Neloth's bullshit. So naturally I've found myself cranking one out after a long day of researching. There's something oddly romantic about it. The sound of the Sea of Ghosts lapping at the ash covered sand, the beauty of the aurora overhead an no one to fucking bother me! I ah...I don't like bedclothes so the solitude lets me relax and just take care of shit. 3. Worst Tel Mithryn

Do you know how unsexy a giant fucking mushroom is? Why do you think most Telvanni Wizards are older than Vivec's left nut? No one wants to fuck in mushroom stink! It's like I'm smelling dirt an that's bothering the fuck out of me as I'm tugging an it's just ruining my mood! That an I think Neloth jush knows when I'm doing it and sends his dumb fuck apprentice over to offer me Canis Root Tea.

You can see how this is a problem right? It's fucking torture! Why do you think I just set up a yurt on the beach? My poor dick hurt!

2. Best Blackreach

Yes, there's Falmer an Animunculi an wisps an all that but I think you are well aware of how much I feel at ease over things that are pretty. Blackreach has everything that makes me happy. Dwemer ruins, things for me to belt the shit out of, clean water, GLOW. You stop me from whipping it out here? 2. Worst High Hrothgar

You know, I was tossing up between this an like the top of the mountain coz both have the same problems. One, it's colder than anything I can describe. Even inside the building there's fucking frost! You can light all the fires you want and the place is still fucking freezing! I gotta wear actual underwear when I'm here on top of all the other layers I gotta wear just to not feel like I'm about to die of hypothermia! Do you know how much I hate wearing underwear? Do you know how fucking uncomfortable thermal underclothes are? Even if I wanted to rub out a quick one, an believe me I have on multiple occasions, I'd have to fish my cock out from all the layers an he's hiding something fierce! Then you've got all those stuffy old men who haven't gotten off since I was still mortal watching me like they know my dick still works. Mothballs, old man stink, cold, dark walls with ice coating the door. I mean I can and have fucked here, I'm pretty sure this is where my daughter was conceived so like that's saving it from the number one spot. It's just I'd rather be anywhere else! 1. Best Sky Haven Temple

I hate the Blades. I hate what they represent. I hate that they still think they can boss around people in the name of an Empire that died long ago. I hate how they speak to my now wife an I hate that they expect me to lead them given my old position in the organisation. One- I have never wanted anything to do with the Blades. My membership was part of my prision sentence. Two- I killed my superiour out of revenge for my Corprus infection an I have zero regrets about it. They still think I owe them something. I don't! So why is it at the top of my list? Well, I'm fucking the Dragonborn aren't I? No one's gonna kick me out without her following me. Look I knew it would end with us leaving but I just could not help myself. It's the whole throne room thing again. I legitimatly get off on this shit! An fuck me was this one of the best solo nuts of my life! I don't care if Delphine has to clean the War Room. That's my territory now! 1. Worst Apocrypha

The question of "Can you jerk off in Oblivion?" isn't one that comes up often... unless you're me of course. I've done a good ninety year stint in Revelry. It's possible if the relm's set up for pleasure. Mora's house? That guy's missing his section on erotica. Yeah I know there's something to be said for all the oily tenticles if you're into that kinda thing. I'm not. I'm really not into it. You'd think I would be, given my love of knowlage an all that but FUCK! I've never felt so sick in my life! No, I have but that's not important. Why you don't want to jerk off in Hermaeus Mora's house? Simple. It smells like fish and rotting books! I'm not a guy who'll fuck just anywhere an that also goes for fucking myself. The place is disorientatiting at the best of times, the floor moves under your feel an there's strange Daedra behind every corner. I got taken by Sydari's predecessor whom I accedently released whilst I was looking for her an yeah...kinda got stuck there for gods know how long! I was mad at the end of it, took me far too long to recover after I'd been pulled out of there. I missed my daughter's first steps, her first words. It was a fucking nightmare the likes that only the Sharmat would conceive- no, no Voryn actually tried to get me off so... Look, you don't want to even set foot in Libraryland, let alone whip your dick out and rub one out whilst you're lost there. Unless you're partual to having it morph into one of those tenticle things before your eyes. Unless you're into that kinda thing, I ain't judging.

I am judging...

Anyway that's it um...Why was I talking about this again?

[velvetvexations]

Since we're talking about forcefem, here're most of the forcefem-related asks I've had in my inbox, some of which are a few days old on account of technically going in the vexatious tag if not exactly kink asks. I wanted to answer one from today on it's own which I'll get to later but I wanted to get to the older ones and also get to a few of the others from today while I was at it.

i just saw a post where a trans guy was showing some messages where someone was (unconsensually) basically roleplaying forcefemming him. despite him telling them that he did not want that and that it was very much transphobic, and he atill got a message boiling down to "you're not a man, silly, you're a girl :D" and. to be honest. this was the thing that stopped the brainworms of "what if the whole concept of transandrophobia is actually transmisogynistic and i am entirely wrong" bc at least some of these people will just say the most bog standard transphobic shit to trans guys and not register it as transphobia. so why the fuck would they be right about anything transmascs experience also on that note thank you for being so outspoken in favour of transmascs getting to discuss their oppression. it's really helpful to see trans women stand with us here, especially when it comes to aforementioned brainworms

congratulations to that transphobe for creating a new transandrobro

the 'forcemasc isnt revolutionary' shit is the most annoying iteration of stupid tumblr discourse. like im going through the tag trying to read some horny shit and oh look. theres someone being stupid and hypocritical. in my horny tag.

people are getting tribalist about kinks and it's depressing

Every time people are saying that trans men & mascs cannot possibly fathom being objectified & fetishized, I think on all of the posts I’ve seen that did that exact same thing. And yeah, some of it might have been kink, so no hate no judgement I dabble in that tag too, but I’ve also seen “get in the dress” type posts that seem to be genuinely calling for trans men to be more feminine, untagged & in the wild, enough where I’m like — am I just imagining this? Like am I crazy? Am I missing something, or was that extremely detailed post about why I MUST stay feminine — or become more — for someone else’s benefit being 100% serious? And, again — if it’s kink, all the power to them, I love that for them, I even occasionally love that for me. But I have encountered enough people who were dead serious that I sometimes want no one but trusted friends & advisors to ever witness me again. And then I look at statistics & feel genuinely ill. And yeah, I’m gnc — and there’s the rub, because while I feel genuine joy being fem as well as masc, I want it to be a Choice, not something forced upon me.

people need to be fucking normal

Yh like ik a lot of shitposts don't have any tags but people have. Really gotta tag forcefem. I've blocked a large amount of people making these jokes + filtered their names n I still see it

I'm sorry, anon. <3

Fuck thank you so much for talking so openly about forcemasc. I’m so dumb I thought there wasn’t a name for that kink that I’ve been into for years, albeit my version is way more weirder. It would be like a… forcemascfem??? Like first it’s forcemasc and then it turns into forcefem and then right back to forcemasc…. And then back to- Idk my gender is weird and my kinky fantasy for that is weird

Cross as many boundries as you want, that sounds rad. Forcefem has a lot of infrastructure to jump off of.

“I’m doing a kink in a non kink way so it’s not kink blog!” Sorry this pisses me off It’s still a kink. Like. If someone made an I-suggest-BDSM blog and tried to claim it wasn’t a kink blog I’m sure more people would see how silly this is but because it’s the transfem approved virtuous forcefem they just let it slide??? Like. You are engaging in a kink and thats fine. You can say there won’t be anything explicitly sexual! But it will still be a kink blog because it’s a blog about a kink! A kink blog if you will! It doesn’t matter if you’re not getting off to it, it’s still a kink! That you are participating in! On your blog about that kink!

It SHOULD piss you off! It's extremely fucking scummy!

what the hell? for like one solid minute(longer than that but i like saying it this way) all the forcefem on my dash was tagged and i could blissfully not have to see it every other post and then just today i had to unfollow a buncha people for an assload of untagged forcefem :/ like im transmasc i think its understandable that i do not wish to see that anyway hope your day is goin well miss velvet

yeah it's praxis to not tag kink anymore

trfs are perfectly aware what the "force" bit means when forcemasc comes up in conversation

strange how that works

[9r7g5h]

Should Have Been Obvious

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Boku no Hero Academia 

Rating: T

Genre: Humor

Summary: "How the actual fuck did I raise such a stupid brat?"

Even as the side of Katsuki's lip curled, he couldn't necessarily argue with his mother. He wanted to, he really, really did, but in this one case he had to concede that she was maybe, just slightly, kind of right.

It should have been obvious.

Words: 2,433

"How the actual fuck did I raise such a stupid brat?"

Even as the side of Katsuki's lip curled, he couldn't necessarily argue with his mother. He wanted to, he really, really did, but in this one case he had to concede that she was maybe, just slightly, kind of right. Partly because she hadn't been the first to say it - their friends, their former teachers, the others at their agency; hell, even Recovery Girl had broken her retirement and self imposed month long temporary isolation in Florida to give him a call and chew him out when she had heard the news. The doctors so far had been nicer about the whole thing, if with an air of judgment about them, reassuring him that, while rare, it could, in fact, happen. There'd been studies, tv shows, social experiments - they weren't the only ones this had happened to, though perhaps they were one of the most famous. That had only made him feel slightly better, because really, the other reason he didn't snap back at his mother was that, thinking about it, all of the signs had, if fact, been there.

It should have been obvious.

But, really, Izuku being sick at 3 am almost every single day for two months had been easy to write off. The damn nerd was constantly getting cheap crap from convenience stores for snacks on his way home from patrols, no matter how much Katsuki tried to protest. So they had both just laughed (or, rather, Katsuki had laughed, Izuku had bemoaned) it off as his stomach finally taking its revenge now that he was in his mid-20s.

The back and chest pain? Well, they were both heroes - things were constantly getting tweaked and twisted and hit, and even when they had desk duty, Izuku never sat properly. He was always hunched over his laptop, muttering under his breath instead of keeping track of his HDMI cables so he could use the nice, comfortable chairs and large monitors the agency had gotten them.

Being tired? The nerd never slept. End of story, he was always tired, and so was Katsuki, depending on whether or not Izuku had kept him awake as well. Sometimes a happy tired, if he'd gotten his dick wet at least, but more often then not a frustrated tired, his lovely, wonderful husband and mate keeping him awake half the night because they just had to talk about the new quirk theory he'd come up with. A talk that couldn't wait until their, you know, shared patrol the next day, or shared lunch hour, or dinner, where they lived together.

Crying easily? Izuku had already been flooding the city on a daily basis because a child knew his name, and if someone insulted one of their friends (especially him), they had exactly three seconds to find somewhere to hide and pray before he tried to rip them a new asshole for shits and giggles. Moodswings had always been part of Izuku, and nothing new to their lives.

Neither of them had thought much about Izuku's missed heat; he'd always been irregular, ever since he'd gotten One for All, going from the standard one every three months to sometimes six months in between a heat, or sometimes only two. Their mating and medications had helped, for the most part, but a missed one was nothing to worry about. For sure nothing to call home or run to a doctor about, but instead just a scheduled off long weekend to take advantage of.

Though, perhaps his reluctance to take apart the elaborate nest he'd established in the living room should have sent up some flags. Katsuki was glad for the small bite scar on his hand now, and the fact that the nest was still there, left alone after Izuku had made it very clear it was staying. They'd need it, even if it was ugly as fuck and in the worst place possible. It smelled like them, sure, but he still hated the fact that they owned an Icy Hot blanket, and for some reason Izuku had put that bastard's merch right where it was most visible wherever you went in the apartment.

Sure, the weird food had been weird, but none of it had been too too strange. Katsuki had gagged the first time he'd seen Izuku eat pork rinds and m&ms ("It's just like chocolate covered bacon, Kacchan!"), and more than once Katsuki had wondered why and how he'd let himself get bullied out of his own house to try and find melon pudding in the middle of the night, but again, not too weird. Or, rather, neither of them had really just thought about it.

Damn it, Denki was rubbing off on him too much. He really was a dumbass.

To be fair, in their defense, there had been some pretty obvious things that hadn't been there as well. Izuku's scent had barely changed, the slightest extra sweetness of milk barely there under the lighting and mint. He'd barely put on any extra weight, his increased appetite quickly burned off by the amount of exercise they did each day. They were both already horny fucks, so any increase in that area hadn’t been that noticeable.

It hadn't been until earlier that day that they'd begun to suspect something was maybe, just maybe, wrong. Izuku had woken up complaining of a weird pressure in his lower stomach, strange cramps that he couldn't just walk off. Katsuki had suggested he take the day off, go to the doctor, but Izuku had been insistent on doing his shift first. They had a short, early day, so they could always swing by whichever hospital was closest to them when they clocked out.

"I'm fine, Kacchan," Izuku had said, his smile tight even as he rubbed at his lower back, hissing as another cramp hit him. "It's probably just some stomach thing from all the weird things I've been eating."

He'd wanted to push, but deciding it was better to not argue and just keep a close eye on him, Katsuki had just nodded and gotten ready for the day.

He should have pushed. Throughout the day it was clear how much the cramps had been bothering Izuku, citizens giving him strange, almost panicked looks each time he stopped and pressed his hand to his stomach or his back, biting back whatever noise of pain threatened to break free. Some had even given Katsuki angry, disapproving looks, though when he had just shrugged and rubbed Izuku's back until he insisted he was fine enough for them to continue, that seemed enough for people to drop it. At least until the alerts went off for the robbery.

He wasn't even sure now what the name of the place was, whether it was a bank or some kind of store, just that one of the villains had some kind of x-ray quirk to let them figure out where the best goods to take were, while the other could pull apart the metal and bricks to fill their bags. He and Deku had been the first on the scene, making enough of an entrance that, without turning off the weird eye thing the woman had been doing, both villains had turned towards them, more than ready to fight.

Only for Creepy Eyes to take one look at Izuku and throw her hands up, hitting her partner on the way so she would do the same.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? You need to be in a hospital, not running around being a hero for one fucking day. We’re thieves, we’re not getting involved in this shit and possibly hurting one of you.” Her voice had been panicked, each blink causing her eyes to flicker between black and green as she lowered herself to the ground. “And you,” the snarl had taken Katsuki off guard, he’d admit - plenty of villains had growled at him before, but never with this kind of tone - “what kind of alpha are you? I know he’s the number one hero and all the shit, but really? You really care that little about him that you didn’t take him to the hospital already? Fucking shitty mate is what you are.”

Katsuki had bristled at the accusation, words he technically understood but that all together meant shit. Not that he had had time to do anything: his face dark, Izuku had taken a few steps forward, power crackling through his limbs, mouth open to speak-

Only to freeze as another one of those cramps rippled through him, this time accompanied by wetness that had stained the back of his pants, soaking through and dripping down his legs onto the dusty floor.

The next few hours had been blurry, Katsuki had to admit. Bird Brain flying in on his wave of darkness to take over for them while they waited for the ambulance; the ride as the EMTs helped Izuku out of his hero costume, asking him questions Katsuki fired off the answers to, because he knew Izuku more than well enough to respond even as his husband gritted his teeth against the strange pain, scent sharp and stressed and scared; the hospital trying to pull him to the side so he could fill out forms (he might or might not have tried to bite someone) until someone with brains had told them to do it later, this was happening now.

The room, the doctors, too many voices and not enough answers as he tried to keep Izuku calm. Calm and breathing and following the few instructions one of the smiling nurses had come by his head to give him (smiling, so that had to mean he wasn’t dying, something Katsuki had latched onto), ignoring his own pained hand as Izuku squeezed it between the waves. Waves that part of Katsuki had realized were more than some stomach bug, but he’d been proven an idiot, a complete dumbass, because it hadn’t been until the end, when Izuku had been screaming and crying and accidentally kicked someone in the face that it had gone quiet, that it had ended and whatever had been going on was over, that a small, whimpering newborn had been placed on Izuku’s chest that he’d actually realized what it all meant.

“Fucking hell,” he’d breathed, eyes wide and slightly faint as he’d watched Izuku carefully push back the dark hair on their head. Watched as, exhausted and out of it, Izuku had nuzzled the infant before trying to find a nurse, frowning as his tired gaze had fallen on Katsuki himself.

“They gave me a baby, Kacchan,” Izuku had slurred, eyes drooping, barely awake. “We’re heroes - we need to find her parents.”

“Give her here, nerd,” Katsuki had said, though it had taken a long few moments and some gentle swipes of his wrists over Izuku’s to get him to actually let go of her. “Go to sleep; I got her.”

And that was still how he was now, two hours after his daughter’s birth. He’d called his mom, given her the bare jist of it - she’d grabbed Inko on her way over, his dad out of the country for some business meeting, his green-haired mother-in-law quietly fawning over her still sleeping son. The doctor had given him something, after hearing the whole story, to help with healing and keep him calm when he woke up, though he’d sleep for a bit longer. Mitsuki sat next to him, looking between her phone and granddaughter, eyes bright even as she berated him and fielded calls. Stupid villain had leaked everything to the media the first chance she’d gotten, and Katsuki was glad he had someone to deal with the fallout of their stupidity for them.

He sure as fuck couldn’t. Besides calling the old hag, he’d barely been able to take his eyes off of her. She was so small, could fit in his arms so easily, his daughter. Perfectly healthy, if a bit small and a little bit early, nothing to be concerned about, according to the doctor that had almost had to pry her from his hands to give her her first checkover. A miracle, in Katsuki’s mind, considering there’d been nothing that he knew they should have been doing; none of the vitamins, none of the classes, none of the special exercises or appointments or anything that those shitty lifetime movies always made such a big deal out of.

They were dumbasses, as his mother so loved to remind him every few minutes as she replied to calls and texts and coordinated with PR, but even so they’d made the best kid.

“Kacchan?”

Immediately he was at Izuku’s side; he knew he was purring, brushing his cheek over and over against Izuku’s as he held their baby in his arms, scenting him excessively as Izuku just looked at him in tired confusion, but Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to stop. He’d had two whole extra hours to process this shit, and fuck, sure, brats had always been a “When we get to them” kind of thing, but she was here and perfect and he was happy.

“So it wasn’t a dream.” His voice tired and awed, Izuku just reached out for the baby, their baby, and brushed his wrist over her, scenting her, smiling as she squirmed at the sensation. “Kacchan, we have a baby. We didn’t even know I was pregnant and now we have a daughter.” He was tearing up, taking the offered tissues from Inko as Katsuki just sat there and let him process, nuzzling him while holding their child tight between them. “What are we going to tell everyone?”

“Don’t worry about that, ‘Zuku,” Katsuki quickly said, shooting Mitsuki a look they both understood. He didn’t need to know about the media circus show, about how Momo had created a key to their apartment and their friends were already swarming their home with baby shit, that the world was talking and speculating and wondering about how they’d gotten into this predicament in the first place (since a hero almost giving birth on the field was a new one). “Right now you need to rest, and we need to figure out what we’re calling this cute little brat.”

“Don’t call your kid a brat, you stupid brat. How I raised such a dumbass, I’ll never know.”

Katsuki wanted to argue, but really, she was right. He was a dumbass - a lucky as fuck, happy dumbass, and at least now he knew what to look for next time.

[END]

If there are any questions/requests, I have a Curious Cat and a Retrospring! :3

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[p1ckleju1ce]

Can you write a one-shot from Ray‘s POV about his thoughts during the time after Norman is gone before they all escape together? Like him planning his suicide, thinking about Norman‘s sacrifice, how to get Emma to escape, etc.

Of course! Thank u sauurr much for the request i hope this is up to ur standards :333

Nothing felt real, though its not like he wanted anything to be real right now. Ray moved a hand to wipe his eyes, his steps lethargic, he could still hear the hubbub of the other children dispersing off to their evening activities.

His heart ached and his mind was foggy, why? Why did Norman choose to go and die? What was the point? Ray felt burning frustrating flare in his chest, why didn’t he do more? Thoughts, questions with no answer, filled his mind, Norman wasn’t stupid, he would have figured out a way past, he wasn’t Ray… he wouldn’t have, shouldn’t have, given up so easily.

It felt like a second when he finally made his way back to the library, it felt like his own private space during evenings, no one really came in here when they weren’t studying or looking for something to occupy their time. He could get some peace.

Entering the library with a heavy sigh, Ray made his way towards the ladder in the back of the room, and up to the loft, his real private space. He practically crumbled to the floor, How would he move on? How could he move on? What would happen now? Tears welling in his eyes, Ray held himself tightly, sobbing softly.

Turns out Ray was alot more tired than he thought he was, peeling his eyes open with a groggy groan, apparently he fell asleep during his crying session. He didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to be conscious, what was the point? He lost all hope. His talk with Emma the night before when he truly accepted his fate of dying here. He still didn’t want to die to the hands of those creatures, Ray felt himself scowl at the mere thought, they took away so, so many of his friends, his family, he really didn’t want to let them win.

Ray shuffled a little, apparently hardwood flooring wasn’t the best thing to sleep on, his back and shoulders ached as he adjusted them. Life was gonna suck up until January.

Ray glanced down at a book, letting out a small huff as he reached out to grab it. May as well get some reading in if he was gonna be skipping breakfast.

.

.

.

Later in the afternoon, Ray was forced out of the library, due to Don practically shouting at him, telling him he needed to get some fresh air, which he reluctantly obliged to. Now outside, he stayed beside the boarded-up well, finally letting himself think.

Well, now he had to think about how he’d get Emma and the others to escape, without Norman shit felt hopeless. Ray let out a heavy sigh, it felt like the whole world was on his shoulders, at least Norman could have lightened the load… Ray let his thoughts drift, now what? He knew if they just ran away with no distraction, Mama would most definitely catch them. A distraction was needed. It made him ponder, what could hold Mama back long enough for everyone to escape… Fire, maybe, but she’d most likely ditch the house and just go chasing after them.

It felt as though a switch in his head flicked on, couldn’t he just… be the thing on fire? Mama couldn’t leave him behind, he was the second-best goods they’ve got. A small smirk formed on his face as he truly thought into it, Maybe he could use that lighter fluid Mama kept in the storage room. A plan finally clicked.

Everything was laid out before him like a beautiful feast prepared just for him. He was going to be Mama’s bait, he’d set himself on fire, 12:00 am on January 15th, he could be the reason they escape! He felt a sick sense of elation in his chest, Ray could really do it, though it was a little on-the-nose, he could achieve it. Surely no one would miss the traitor.

WHEHEHWHAOQ I HOPE. YHIS IS UP TO UR STANDARDSSS first real tumblr post guys im spookeddddddd :$:$32862-@‘nuwhan

[cherrymooshroom]

Michael Myers x short!chubby!goth!fem!childhood friend!reader General headcanons and a lil' visiting my boi in Smith's Grove uwu.

Genre:

Word count: 738

THis is completely self indulgent and I'm not sorry. I am thirsty for RZ Myers after watching the movies. I wrote this in like 40 minutes.

CONTENT WARNING: Standard RZ! Michael lore, I'll definitely be doing more of this concept.

You grew up in Haddonfield, you went to the same school as the “infamous and terrifying” Michael Myers.

You grew up with Michael, listening to music, reading tons of sci-fi and fiction books, playing your various game consoles your parents got you when he visited. You were always running around outside with him, hunting down various lizards, bugs and critters. 

You tried to tamper his more violent tendencies as a child, and you’d gotten him to understand empathy pretty well, but of course he slipped up… It was much more than a kid should’ve dealt with, but he was your best friend. You hated to admit you also had similar fascinations with dead things, but nothing like Michael, you didn't want to actually hurt anything.

People didn’t know about the shit he went through, how hard he tried to prevent his own violent tendencies.

The constant bullying and borderline sexual harassment from peers about his mother and sister was truly repulsive but the principal never actually punished the kids responsible… His abusive predator step dad, his older sister Judith constantly berated him and put him down… He was bound to snap and take them out, in all honesty. The human mind can only bend so far before it snaps wholly. 

Then he killed his entire family except for his baby sister Angel and his mom, since she’d been at work.

Your family moved away for a while after that, and only moved back recently. Your father got a promotion that required you to move towns, and your mother felt unsafe in Haddonfield.

You were shocked to see Angel Myers- Or rather Laurie Strode, since she’d taken on a new name with her adoptive family- living in the same town still. 

It made you feel a mix of discomfort and confusion. Did she not know her own past?

You made it a point to visit Michael at Smith’s Grove as soon as you could.

You’re being guided through the building by Loomis and a guard. “Now, he’ll have to be restrained, and he probably won’t even talk to you.” Loomis says as he scans some ID card and opens the door.

“Are guns necessary?” You ask quietly and Loomis huffs.

“This man-” “I know what he did, what he could do. Just… leave the door open and stand outside or something.” You snap and Loomis eyes you for a moment before leaving you in the room. You turn around, facing into the room and notice him, he’s hard to miss, considering how much he’d grown. “Michael. Hi. You probably don’t remember me… It’s y/n… y/n y/l/n. We- I grew up in Haddonfield too.” You say softly, moving to sit across from the murderer. He’s silent and still for a bit, before he finally tilts his head up and looks at you.

His eyes linger on your (h/t), (h/l), (h/c) locks, your vibrant (e/c) eyes and a flicker of recognition light up his empty ice blue eyes. He grunts softly and shifts in his seat, seeming to be getting more comfortable, humoring you.

“Yeah, uh… I moved away, but we moved back… I came to visit you as soon as I could, Michael. I missed you so much, I’m so sorry.” You say softly and his head tilts slowly. “You know exactly what I mean, don’t give me that look. I know you’re not stupid.” You sass and he leans back in his chair. You sit in silence for a while, and you realize with a bit of annoyance that Loomis was right, Michael wouldn’t bother talking to you. “Ugh… That dickhead doctor of yours was right, you really won’t talk to anyone anymore.” You grumble with a pout and tear up.

You hear Michael let out a growl, and suddenly a deep, baritone rasp resonated through the room.

“Fuck him.” You sit up and look at Michael, wide eyed.

“Whoa. Jesus. Uh… Yeah I don’t like that guy, I called your mom a few times before she-” You wince and clear your throat. “She swore you wouldn’t have been a threat with- If they’d just let you go home. Fucking prick, he is.”

“Yeah.” You look over and see the guards getting ready to usher you away. “Visit again… Missed you, (y/n)” Michael says quietly and you blush as the guards come in and usher Michael away to his cell.

[twilightofthe]

gonna put my random liveblog reactions for Ahsoka Ep 1 here

okay so the rebels fam are literally some of my favorite star wars characters i've loved and missed them since 2018 and if anything this show will give me them

i am going with zero expectations except a plea, a plea to just not make me hate it lmao idc what happens just let me have fun

just press the start button coward ass come ON

okay i'm startiiiing Now!

oooh they didn't name it interesting

kk cool drums that's neat we like that

whoa was that sabine's helmet in the intro????

OPENING TITLE SCROLL?????

WE REALLY LIKE THAT????????

y'all the new republic's about as stable as a human jenga tower don't u have anything better to do than find thrawn i'm p sure even the imperials didn't like him THAT much they were xenophobes

former jedi knight? HMMMM

why is it always a secret map

also appreciating the OG "let's open up on big ass ship in space" makes you feel small

ok have i heard this new republic(?) captain actor before he seems familiar

bitch literally anyone could have an old jedi clearance code clearance codes were passed around like

yeah he doesn't trust it either

but i feel like he's actually dickish and we're not supposed to like him so

ah yes rebel soldiers and their stupid-ass egg helmets

wait old white bearded guy you ain't obi wan you AIN'T a jedi

his voice sounds familiar too

i have such face blindness lmao

oh whoops that's a darkside saber his friend has!

she kinda looks like Merrin from JFO

Eh probs some kinda Nightsister of sorts

I'm guessing he's some Inquisitor who got forgotten

Hmm we really paralleling ANH with darkside guy slaughtering all the egghelmet guys on a ship xD

Ok his name is Baylan

And hers is Morgan and the intro crawl mentioned her but my memory is shit so I don't quite remember what she was about except vague Thrawn-related reasons

ooooh name drop!

aaaaaAAAAA RIGHT IN THE EMOTIONS NOOO NO THE AHSOKA AND ANAKIN LEITMOTIFF TWILIGHT OF THE APPRENTICE THEME

ok i'm good lol

ohh wait so there IS a title

master and apprentice

alas it seems like the thing i didn't want is gonna happen but we are staying OPEN MINDED we are going to SEE

ok lots of tall pillars in what looks like another fuckin desert lmao

ey there's Snips

something on the ground? That kinda looks Sith-ish but also I have like no clue

hmm did they kinda fix her montrals or not i can't tell

Ehhhhh slightly

eyyyy wait are those the world-between-worlds lines

the statues kinda look like nightsisters but also like old sith statues

mmm caress the whispering pillar

ok indiana jones time to get your ass out of there before the booby trap

what am i saying she's anakin and obi wan's spawn she LIKES this shit

oh hey she made something happen

i feel like all of these pillars should have been turned at once

the force likes teamwork and that kinda thing

but it also kinda echoes maul and ezra's little teamwork exercise lifting those walls in the sith temple that one time

ope she found something

guessing it's the Magic Maul Map

ooh it's one of those bakugon balls or whatever they were we played with as a kid i had one that turned into a dragon

H U Y A N G

SHOW ME MY ROBOBITCH

armor person hello

what's the mask that's not a mando is it

nah i don't think it is

nah

is it a person in armor or a droid i can't tell

oh subs say droids they're droids

you poor bastards curbstomping droids was her high school internship job she is WAY more qualified than you

wasn't quite expecting ahsoka to play whackamole but good for her that sounds fun

oh hell yeah we stan the droids that self destruct xD

waiiiit yeah i forgot she had a B-wing they're cool!

STILL LOVE ME HUYANG

ahsoka there was NO way you didn't wait till the last moment to jump away from that explosion except to be dramatic

"the order doesn't exist anymore" you shush missy we KNOW you know who luke is he's trying his best

ahsoka lbr do you even know what standard jedi protocol is

Fulcruuuuum

DAMN FUCKING RIGHT HUYANG IS FULCRUM HE DESERVES IT

also he looks so good in live action i forgot to mention that!!!!! <3

"T-6" girl u need to name your SHIP anakin would be APPALLED

well if that's the same ship with the darksiders on at least

h3ERA

HERA

HERA HERA HERA

HERA MY BELOVED

wHERES CHOPPER

WHERES CJASON JACEN WHATEVERTHE FUCK

H E RA

oh right this is mary elizabeth winstead oh boy i hope she does well!

i wonder if ewan was there

aNYWAY HERA

ok unpausing sorry had a Moment

General

Ok so the voices aren't quite matching but we'll see

ooooh hera has a patch on her jacket let's go back to that later

"abilities like you" hera kanan told you what darksiders were like inquisitors tried to kill y'all

she has sabines firebird on her jacket

don't mention thrawn around hera she'll just think of ezra ;_;

oh so morgan was thrawn's

EZRA NAME MENTION

GONNA DIE

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ok this is nothing on mary's performance she's doing fine but hera's dialogue doesn't quiiiite seem her? we'll see

oh yeah and rosario's doing better this time more natural

IT’S LOTHAL LOTHAL LIVE ACTION LOTHAAAAAAAAL

ITS BEAUTIFUL SO SO BEAUTIFUL

wait who's speaking

THEY SAID EZRA AGAI

THAT'S FUCKING RYDER

RYDER AZADI HELLO YOU WONDERFUL BASTARD YOU LOOK GREAT

Hi Clancy Brown good to see you do you know you have an evil Devaronian twin who's running around bothering Din Djarin as we speak

well at least sabine still hates politics

my dude ryder you know her tf did she say to make you think she was coming at all lol

WAIT JAI

JAI KELL HELLO EZRA'S EX BOYFRIEND

YOU'RE SO HANDSOME MY BOY ALL GROWN UP WONDERFUL

wait ryderrrr c'mon don't be a dick again you were so well

OH HELLO GWEN STACY SPIDERVERSE VIBES

not quiiiiite liking how sabine grew her gay haircut out in this but still digging the bike fit

also hello Natasha good luck pls treat my dear well i love her greatly!!!

hmmm not sure how much i like other non-OG ghost crew giving themselves Spectre callsigns yes i AM being gatekeepy fuck off

good sabine is running from authorities we do love that

hey her voice kinda matches that's great!

oh i'm liking her acting already

i think

SHE HAS A LOTH CAT ON HER HELMET

that's my GIRL

also it's very interesting how the pilots call each other by their spectre callsigns but address sabine--an ORIGINAL spectre--exclusively by name

lothkitty LOTHCAT

LITHCAT WITH THE FOOOOOFYTAIL AND LITTLE SPINDLE LEGS

im gonna DIE

it's so cute i can't even

also getting Emotions(TM) at ezra's old tower

hmm you think sabine has depression

FUCK OFF WITH THAT SABINE SEES EZRA MUSICAL CALLBACK

oh hey hey it's his original message to theeeeem

wait shit yeah it's the new one just to her

ooh it's eman! i can't see his faaaaace expressions but the voice sounds similar? like it seems like he's tryna match taylor's way of speaking good for him

ok yes but ezra is a jedi show pretty please for me don't go there with sabine

ok ok that's enough complaining from me lmao

ACTUALLY NO WAIT ONE MORE *inhales*

i would prefer sabine and ezra to stay platonic friends. no hate to shippers but i just personally would like them to be friends/siblings, that's what would make me happiest because i like to imagine sabine as a lesbian and also their dynamic as friends/siblings just makes me happy

but shippers are of course still welcome here and if they do become a couple i won't begrudge you your fun :')

ok ok ok ok ok NOW i'm done lmao

back to Best Boy sorry bby you were speaking and i interrupted you <3

oh hey hey he did say sister! i'd like that!!!

but also ezra when tf did you have the time to record those both weren't u a bit busy planning the attack on lothal

oh it's darkside goth girl

nice smoky eye

oh wait fuck she's got a PADAWAN BRAID

heyyyyyy i was RIGHT about the temple statues looking like nightsisters!

but wrong about darkside goth girl being one then tho

well masked emo fucker following bryan or whatever his name is is probs an inquisitor

wait wait wait does MORGAN have gold eyes?

ooooooo

oh no wait darkside apprentice has gold eyes again

ugh okay so we ARE getting force sensitive sabine then

alright fine i'll make my peace with it this episode

even though it makes no SENSE

no no pe not going there we are going to have FUN

aaaaa repeating ezra's final dialogue from the rebels finale ;_;

love the mirroring shots to rebels ep 1 RIGHT DOWN TO SABINE WEARING EZRA'S ORANGE

ahsoka and anakin leitmotiff coming back hmmm

oh wait fuck i think ezra drew those lothcats oof ;_;

ok good good we going back to sabine being the rightful art expert in the gffa take second place and DUNK urself thrawn

ok i get they're tryna make them ex master and apprentice but imma say it. imma SAY IT

ahsoka and sabine give awkward exes vibes

BIG awkward exes vibes

m a s t e r

you both know damn well she's gonna take it anyway or at least try who are y'all even kidding urselves

oooh surprise surprise the darksider are former jedi-associated

oh right his name's baylan not bryan

WHY ARE YOU SURPRISED

oh there's goth darkside girl

if anyone hurts sabine's cat i will kill the entire world and then myself

i swEAR TO GOD

WHY DOES THE SHOW KEEP MAKING AHSOKA AND SABINE SEEM LIKE ANGRY EXES LMAOOOO

COME ON

ahsoka ur being emo so hera is allowed to make a dig at anakin

hera you're trying your best girl lmao

it's always rule of three it seems

kinda gives me that mortis trinity vibe

this reminds me of the time i got one of those 3D puzzles from barnes and noble and i was supposed to take it apart and put it back together and failed utterly

ope she did it!

again if someone even TOUCHES that fucking cat wrong i go full john wick

bitch NO SHOOTING NEAR THE CAT

ope they smashed the map

ahsoka my dude i'm guessing you know where sabine lives why didn't u just go find her lmao

wait does sabine have ezra's green lightsaber i can't tell from the hilt because i'm shit at recognizing hilts

i can't even appreciate the duel because i am admittedly pouting but they are both very pretty at least

sabine how r u not getting ur hair chopped off

oh fuck she got stabbed?

maybe shoulda worn ur mando armor

oh and she's still MOVING

oh nope there she goes

oh wait who's Ray? :(

okay

okay okay okay

dave my dude.........

okay so i am going to take some time like a few minutes or so

and process this sabine thing

like if i cannot find a way to come to fucking terms with it i will not be able to enjoy this series

ik ik that sounds dramatic i'm just

hmm ok five minutes

[advancedatrophy]

Saudade (English: /saʊˈdɑːdə):

An emotional state of melancholic or profoundly nostalgic longing for a beloved yet absent something or someone.

If the last entry did not make me sound like I needed an exorcism, this one sure will.

I am sure on some level we have all felt severe FOMO at some point. Whether it’s not being invited to the popular girls birthday party, not being picked for the team, being the only one who got a bad grade, being the last one in the friend group to turn 19 or even being last to lose your virginity. I used to think some of those would be the worst thing to ever happen to me. Now imagine that all of those things were in your immediate reach, and you decided you couldn’t do it so you gave up. Imagine being the last one to lose your virginity, you are so excited to finally do the deed, you are already naked, you’re into it, ready to go and… at the very last second you run away and opt to stay a virgin forever. It sounds fucking nuts. That’s how I feel right now, but as hard as it is to believe it feels even more dramatic. The problem is, pain and sadness in a weird way is kind of my comfort zone.

It boils down to a choice. And “choice” doesn’t even feel like the right word to describe it. In my head I have made up my mind already. I have already decided, I have made peace with my decision. I mean it’s not like it was a hard choice.

Which is correct?

A) 2 + 2 = 4

B) 2 + 2 = -5472.7

If anyone else I knew was faced with a seemingly obvious math problem (happy + happy = love or… sad + total fucking prick = horrible), I would obviously have them choose the right answer. Math has never been my best subject, but that is beside the point.

My point is I am so mad at myself right now. The answer is so obviously option A that I can’t even believe I keep writing down the other option. It’s like my brain is not communicating with my body. Like, you know when you have something stuck in your teeth and your tongue knows EXACTLY where the thing is, but when you try to finger it out its like there is no sense of direction at all? Anyways…

Let me tour you through just how fucking good option A is just to bring the point home:

In movies, theres a man and a woman and there is so obviously sparks between them, but neither one of them really make a move and its all kind of banter for an hour and then in the last fifteen minutes it’s one big grand gesture and boom they are in love and the whole time you’re thinking “finally…holy fuck couldn’t they just have started with that?”

Every single day feels like the last fifteen minutes of that movie to me. This man makes me feel like I am a kid in a candy store. I am literally floating (I think) sometimes when we are together. I don’t even feel like my feet are on the ground. I am not paying attention to anything other than what he’s gonna say next. Hoping the whole time that he’ll kiss me and we’ll laugh directly into each-others mouths.

He is the funniest person I have ever met. And I consider myself to be pretty hilarious myself, so I have a high standard for wit.

Music sounds different to me now. I actually hear the message in it all. I always knew the lyrics but I never actually felt it directly in my heart like I do now. I am listening to songs I know like the back of my hand and suddenly they have me in my feelings. And even still, 1 million playlists later, I have yet to find the perfect song to really describe my feelings.

I am trying hard with this journal to seriously try and get my real life feelings off my chest, but there are no words. How I feel is beyond words. It’s pure bliss.

When he’s not around, and when we can’t communicate, I go feral. I feel like a fiend. Maybe that’s unhealthy, I don’t give a shit.

I have to make my brain act on this or I will regret it for the rest of my stupid life. It’s not one or the other, there is only one answer.

If you’re reading this, I love you. And I miss you.

[aristrocrat]

Upside Down Feelings III

Chapter 3: The Case of the Missing Lifeguard

summary: Dustin, being his usual nosy self, decides to encourage one oblivious idiot to pursue the other. Y/N cracks the code and the Scoops Troop spy on the Russians in the rain.

word count: idk but it’s short

“See anything?” Dustin looked up at Steve briefly before looking back at the food court in front of him.

“Uh, I guess I don’t totally know what I’m looking for,” His older friend responded. “What time did you say your sister was coming?”

“Evil Russians, Steve! Focus on the evil Russians!”

“I am! I just don’t know what an evil Russian looks like!” He grumbled. “Excuse me for making small talk.”

“Small talk my ass,” Dustin muttered under his breath.

“What?” Steve asked obliviously, not hearing the muffled speach.

“Uh.. I was talking about the Russians. Tall, blond, not smiling,” The boy rolled his eyes. “Also look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags, that sort of thing.”

“Right, okay, duffel bags,” Steve nodded before his face dropped. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” He whispered.

“What?” Dustin gasped.

“Anna Jacobi’s talking with that meathead Mark Lewinsky!”

“If you’re not gonna focus, just give me the binoculars.”

“Aw, Jesus Christ, whatever happened to standards?” Steve continued to whine. “I mean, Lewinsky never even came off the bench!”

“Dude, you are the worst spy in history, you know that?” Dustin grabbed at the binoculars, yanking them away from the older boy’s face, earning another round of whining. “Besides, I don’t get why you’re looking at girls. You have the perfect one right in front of you.”

“Seriously, if you say your sister again-“

“My sister.”

“No, don’t- No!”

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N-“

“Stop! No, no, no-“

“Y/N, Y/N-“

“No!”

“My sister, you idiot!”

“No, man, she’s.. She’s not my type,” Steve argued weakly. At this point, he didn’t know who he was trying to convince. “She’s not even.. in the ballpark of what my type is, alright?”

“What’s your type again?” Dustin took a moment to look away from the binoculars. “Not awesome?”

“Thank you,” Steve rolled his eyes, earning a sarcastic smile. “Besides, dude, Y/N’s still in school. And she’s a know-it-all. She gets under my skin in ways that no one else can. And she’s argumentative. I don’t like that she’s so eager to argue. She’s never willing to see anyone else’s side on anything-“

“Not true.“

“And she dated the school’s biggest freak-slash-druggie. That’s a bad look,” Steve continued, earning your brother’s annoyed glare. “And she’s first in her class?! No. That’s, like.. so nerdy.”

“First of all, that freak-slash-druggie is actually a really good guy who happens to be the best DnD dungeon master I’ve ever come across,” Dustin scoffed, earning an eye roll and a hum of disapproval. “Second of all, now that you’re out of high school, which means you’re technically an adult, don’t you think it’s time you move on from primitive constructs such as popularity?”

“Oh, primitive constructs? That some stupid shit you learned at Camp Know-It-All? Or is that just something you got from your sister?” Steve scoffed.

“Camp Know Where, actually,” Dustin corrected. “And no, it’s shit I learned from life.”

It was now Steve’s turn to smile sarcastically.

“Instead of dating somebody you think’s gonna make you cooler, why not date somebody you actually enjoy being around?”

“As a matter of fact, I’ve already tried that, alright? It wasn’t worth the heartbreak-“

“God, I mean you sound just like her!” Dustin’s eyes widened at the remembrance of those exact words falling from your own mouth. “Just because Nancy broke your heart doesn’t mean my sister will, too-“

“Your sister was the one who broke it in the first place, dumb ass,” Steve grabbed the binoculars back, looking at the entrance as you walked in from your lunch break.

Dustin blinked, feeling the wave of realization wash over him.

All those times Steve told him about his first kiss- first heartbreak. Dustin never considered the fact that it might’ve been you. It all made sense now. He’d always wondered why it was Steve that stood by your side during your stepfather’s funeral. Why is was Steve who spent most that summer riding his bike to your house to pick you up. Dustin never knew why you stopped speaking to him after being so close.

“So that story you told me that day on the train tracks..” The boy muttered. Steve only nodded. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steve drew in a deep breath. “Oh.”

“Well, you’ve both changed. You both obviously have a thing for each other. Why not give it a shot?” Dustin shrugged, earning Steve’s full attention. “It could be for the best! Like me and Suzie-“

“Hold on, what?” Steve blinked in disbelief. He wasn’t sure if he heart that correctly. “Say that again.”

“Like me and Suzie-

“No, not that part, peabrain! The first part.”

“.. You’re both into each other?”

“..She’s into me?” Steve’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “Y/N’s got a thing for me?”

“Duh,” Dustin grabbed for the binoculars again, only to be met by nothing but air as Steve pulled them out of reach. “Hey!”

“How do you know? Has she told you?”

“Why does it matter? I thought she wasn’t your type,” Dustin smirked. His lips quickly melted back into a frown when he was met with nothing but an annoyed glare. “I just know my sister, alright? She’s into you. Trust me. So stop being such a pussy and, for the love of all things holy, just ask her out already!”

“It’s not that simple-“

“I was a little scared when I asked Suzie out, too. But it turned out to be the best decision of my life.”

“Oh, Suzie. Yeah, you mean ‘hotter than Phoebe Cates’. Yeah, that Suzie. And, uh, let’s think about how exactly did you score that beautiful girlfriend?” Steve scratched as his temple pretending to wrack his brain for an answer. “Oh, yeah. With my advice. Because that’s how this works, Henderson. I give you the advice, you follow through. Not the other way around, alright, shithead?”

“Advice about what?” You asked, making Steve jump. They both turned around, heart dropping to find that it was you who stood before them. How much had you heard? “… You just gonna stare or are you gonna say something?”

Judging from the innocent curiosity playing on your features, it was evident that you hadn’t caught the vast majority of their conversation. Steve let out a small breath of relief.

“Do I have something on my face?” You blinked, feeling a wave of insecurity wash over you. You quickly dug around in your purse for your compact mirror.

“No, no, you look fine,” Steve quickly interjected. “Just caught us off guard. We were talking about guy stuff. Weird stuff.”

“Right,” You responded slowly, feeling the odd tension in the air. You shifted your weight uncomfortably, wondering why they were acting to odd. “Do I wanna know?”

“No! No, you don’t. Just go back to the parlor and we’ll fetch you if we need you, okay?” Steve pursed his lips. You narrowed your eyes before looking over at Dustin. He only shrugged.

“Alright, assholes,” You sighed, handing your brother the Coke you bought him from the gas station. “Have fun.”

Dustin giggled as he opened the bottle. “You look fine?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Steve blinked.

“I can’t believe I took relationship advice from a guy who doesn’t even know how to flirt!”

“I wasn’t trying to-.. You know what? Give me these,” Steve snagged the binoculars.

“Fine,” He giggled.

———

“Hey, you,” Robin greeted as you walked into the back room. You smiled, handing her the slushee she’d asked you for. “Thanks!”

“The boys are acting weird,” You told her as you hopped onto the counter next to her.

“What else is new?” She snorted. You chuckled and nodded as you peaked over her shoulder. “Does any of this sound off to you? I’m trying to find some sort of clue.”

“The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. A trip to China sound nice if you tread lightly..” Your voice faded out as you looked at the paper. “Tread lightly?”

“I found that weird, too,” Robin began to ruffle through her English to Russian book as the back door erupted in a series of soft knocks.

“I got it,” You said, hopping off the counter and walking towards the door. You swung it open to reveal a man with a mustache wearing his usual dark uniform.

“Got a delivery for ya.”

“Thank you,” You smiled politely, taking the box from his hands and signing for it. You looked back up at him as you finished and something caught your eye. His shirt read LYNX TRANSPORTATION and as did his hat.

It was only when you saw the brows below the hat raise that you’d realized that you’ve been staring for far too long.

“That’s a good color on you,” You quickly bounced back, thanking the fates for allowing the lie to come off so smoothly. The man chuckled.

“Well, thank you. Have a nice day, kid.”

“Yeah, you too..”

You watched as he turned around, noticing the silver cat logo on the back of his shirt. Your eyes widened with excitement before you closed the door and ran back towards Robin, yanking the notepad from her hands.

“What the hell?” She frowned before recognizing the look in your eyes. “Wait, what’s going on? Did you find something?”

You were so far down the rabbit hole in your mind that you didn’t even realize she was speaking.

“Lynx. Cat. The silver cat feeds when.. Silver cat..”

“What are you mumbling? Hello?! Earth to Y/N!” She waved at you as you walked out of the back room.

“Oh, my God,” You muttered before taking off into a sprint, slipping between the boys as you made your way to the food court.

“What is her problem?” Steve asked Robin.

“No time to talk! I think she’s on to something,” She hastily explained before following behind you. She watched as you hopped into the center seating space in the mall, not hesitating to jump up beside you.

“The delivery guy was wearing a silver cat logo,” You mindlessly told her, making her eyes light up with realization as she watched yours dart around the mall. “Dude, look! A trip to China sounds nice! What’s the next line?”

Your finger pointed at the Imperial Panda. She let out a happy squeal before taking the notepad back.

“If you tread lightly.. If you tread..” She gasped, pointing at Kaufman Shoes. You clapped your hands together with excitement. “When blue meets yellow in the west-“

“The clock!” You breathed, turning her shoulders towards the west. You both looked at its neon colored arms; blue and yellow.

“We just did that!” She grinned grabbing your shoulders with glee and shaking you lightly.

“Yeah, we did! That was all us, baby!” You laughed.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” Steve asked as he approached with your brother.

“We cracked it!” You smiled.

“Cracked what?”

“The code,” Robin stated before grabbing your face in her hands and placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “You cracked the code, you brilliant Einstein, you!”

“What are you guys doing at midnight?” You smiled, turning to the boys. They looked at each other with confusion. Robin rolled her eyes.

“Grab your raincoats, boys,” She smirked. “We’re going on a mission.”

———

“Look for Imperial Panda and Kaufman Shoes!” Robin shouted at your brother over the heavy downpour.

“You know, you two made this sound a whole lot more pleasant than it is,” Steve turned to you, wiping the water out of his eyes. You let a chuckle escape your lips, allowing the conversation to his right to continue as you slipped into your own.

“In my defense, the weatherman said to expect light rain,” You shrugged. He playfully rolled his eyes the best he could with the rain. “We’re so gonna get sick.”

“Oh, yeah. We are totally going to be regretting this tomorrow,” He agreed. His eyes looked around your face, seeing all of your wet hair sticking to your forehead and cheeks. “Jesus, Henderson. Can you even see with all this hair in your face?”

He mindlessly reached forward, brushing his fingers across your cheeks as he tucked the wet strands behind your ears.

“You’re one to talk, Harrington,” You giggled, using your free hand to reach over and move some of the hair out of his eyes.

He smiled, allowing his warm hand to linger in your cheek as he watched you set his hair into place. It was almost as if the rain ceased to bother him as his eyes fixated on the beauty that was you.

He was fully convinced that no one could ever look as good as you do in the pouring rain. Then again, he was yet to be proven than anyone could compare to you in any shape or form. He hated admitting to himself just how attracted he was to you: physically, mentally, spiritually. The chemistry between you, as annoying as it could be at times, was unavoidable. Especially when you looked at him like that.

Your eyes had landed back on his own as soon as you felt his thumb begin to rub ever so lightly against your cheek that now heated under his hand.

“Let me check it out,” Robin attempted to grab the binoculars from your brother’s hands. The two of you paid no mind.

“No, I’m still looking.”

“Let me see it!”

“Hang on!”

CLANG.

They fumbled the object, resulting in it hitting the metal under it with a loud crash.

Just like that, whatever moment you’d shared with Steve disintegrated into one of fear and silence. You all ducked down without hesitation just as the armed men looked over. You panted heavily, making sure to keep quiet as you all held hands.

You looked down to see that it was only you and Steve holding hands. You both noticed at the same time, looking over at one another with hesitation. You attempted to pull your hand away before you felt his own squeeze tightly. A silent plea to stay.

“We need to get the hell out of here,” You told them. They nodded and although your hands inevitably parted, it wasn’t long before the familiar warmth was placed protectively on the small of your back as you all made a run towards the hallways.

Chapter 4 ->

———

As always, please feel free to DM me or leave a comment on my stories! I love to hear your feedback and interact with all of you!! Don’t forget to like and reblog, it really helps me out!

a/n: surpriseeee!! i had a week off and decided to write a few chapters for this series!

Check in next Monday at 9:00 CTD for the next installment

reminder: TAGLIST IS CLOSED!!

my friend wrote a steve harrington fic!! go check it out and leave her some love ->

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[runningmunson]

You’re Just Like Everyone Else

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Word Count: 627

Summary: Reader is stressed. After one little thing she blows up on Eddie, hurting him in the process.

Warning: swearing, reader being a bit of a bitch, slight angst?

It was a Friday evening and you had invited Eddie over earlier in the day to hang out after class since your parents were out of town. School had been tough lately so you made him promise that you both get homework done first so you could have the whole weekend to have fun and let loose. 

You heard knocking at the door and ran downstairs to greet Eddie. You opened the door to see his smiling face. His eye crinkles that you love on display. “Hello there pretty lady, I’ve missed you,” he said, taking your hand in his and placing his lips on it before letting go. He then proceeded to grab your hips tightly, pulling you in close for a real kiss. You pulled away after a couple of minutes despite his protests. “Oh come on, why’d you stop!” Eddie whined.

“You promised me we would do homework first! We have plenty of time for that after we finish,” you laughed. You made your way upstairs, taking the bed and Eddie sitting at your desk.

After a couple of hours you could tell Eddie was getting bored, spinning around in the chair. He got up to look at your music before putting a tape in and hitting play. Everything was fine at first, but he just had to turn the volume up and start humming along. You were already stressed as is and for some reason, this was your tipping point.

You slammed your book down on the bed, “Eddie, can you please just turn that shit off! Unlike you, I’m actually trying to graduate this year!” You yell at him. You didn’t mean it but your head was pounding and you couldn’t stop reading the same sentence over and over. You were unable to focus on anything other than that stupid song currently playing and the creaking of the chair driving you nuts. 

The music abruptly stops, Eddie having paused it immediately. He looked shocked, surprised by your sudden outburst. “What did you just say?” he said in utter disbelief. 

“You heard exactly what I said. What are you even doing? We are supposed to be studying but instead you are messing around like always. Maybe if you applied yourself you would finally graduate high school!” you yelled at him. 

“Do you really think I don’t try? Because I do. I’m trying, (Y/N)! It’s not exactly easy for me.” Eddie exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. A look of hurt flashed in his brown eyes.

You know you should stop this argument and apologize right then and there. It was unfair to him but you just kept going, the stress of everything getting to you. “Trying? You call whatever you’re doing trying? Eddie, this is your third time being a senior! You never study and miss class frequently. You spend all your time playing a stupid game and selling drugs to high schoolers for Christ's sake! Isn’t it time to finally grow up and do something with your life?!”

“Well, I'm sorry I’m not living up to your standards, little miss perfect. I don’t need you to tell me how much of a failure I am, thank you very much. I already think that enough about myself.” He said while pointing a finger at you, his other ring-clad hand closed into a tight fist at his side. “I never expected this to come from you of all people. You’re just like everyone else. I mean, who could ever really care about the freak Eddie Munson.” With that said, you watch Eddie grab his keys and storm off. You could hear his van roar to life and the sound of him speeding off in the distance. 

What did you just do?

[scandalsavagefanfic]

Hello! I am a huge fan of ur writing. I've loved everything I've read of yours. I've read alot of what you've posted, except for a couple of the tags that are squicky for me (so I'm very thankful you tag very thoroughly). No judgement for the squick, it's just not for me. & when I'm having a bad day, I usually just go thru ur ao3 and find something to reread. I think about Therapy's Bruce & Jason every damn day. While I obvs appreciate ur darker more "problematic" content (I really vibe with some of the themes you write about bc of my own trauma, & so it's very cathartic to read about in a fictional setting), I am truly a sucker for ur more happy content. The Happily Ever After verse also lives in my head rent free. Idk more wholesome stuff just seems more special when you write it. Anyways. I would die for you. But the point of this ask is cause I'm curious as to why you don't like Urban Legends? I'm sorry if you already talked about it here or on twitter and I missed it. I was just wondering because I really enjoy your take on things and would love to hear why you dislike it. I've been enjoying it so far personally, but I am always open to DC comics criticism.

Aw thank you so much! I'm so flattered by everything you just said. You're so sweet ❤❤❤❤❤

I haven't talked about Urban Legends here or twitter (I haven't been very active in either place lately. Just a lot going on and no energy 😔) but I'm happy to do it here.

Before I start though, I just want to add a standard disclaimer and make it clear that if you like it, there's nothing wrong with that and you don't have to let me ruin it for you lol. Like what you like.

That said, since you asked...

I said this when I was talking about it on discord, that there is a difference between hope and expectation. I always hope that a new story centered on Jason (or anyone really, but things have been especially egregious for Jay for 15 years) will be good or at least treat the character with a minimal level of respect (to be honest, the bar is super fucking low). But my expectations always temper my hope, to keep it from getting unrealistic. Because my expectations are based on experience.

The long history of Jason Todd, since even before his resurrection, has been one of retroactively trying to make him "a bad seed" in order to absolve Bruce of any responsibility in his death.

I don't even expect DC or their writers to start honoring the fact that Jason was not an angry, reckless Robin (and less of the later than Dick or Tim and definitely Damian). There plenty of ways that retcon can be folded into his history and be compelling and sympathetic. And if they're going to stick with that retcon, I'm only asking that they do it in one of those compelling and sympathetic ways because Jason was 15 when he died, heroically, in one of the most selfless acts in comics, to save a woman who literally handed him over to be brutally murdered. He was 12 when Bruce plucked him off the streets, he'd been homeless and fending for himself for at least two years. I personally think that Jason's story hits harder for him and Bruce if their original, canon relationship, of Jason as starry-eyed and eager to learn and absolutely devoted to Bruce and Bruce to Jason, is preserved. But Jason's origins does leave room for a meaningful interpretation of him as angry and frustrated at the lack of meaningful results of Bruce's methods.

And that's really where my irritation at stories like Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer and Batman The Adventure Continues has it's roots.

Every time one of these stories comes out, I think (or hope, rather) that this will be the one that remembers and respects the origins of the Jason and the Red Hood, that takes into account the changed sensibilities of comics readers in the 30 years since Jason's death and the subtle, 20 year, retroactive campaign to make him the "bad Robin". The "born bad" trope is played out and literally no one likes the message it implies. That some kids are just bad eggs and there's nothing parents or the adults around them can do. Especially when it's played as the kid's fault. If Jason's time as Robin is going to be characterized by anger, then it should be rooted in anger at the social injustices he witnessed as he grew up in an impoverished, crime-ridden, area and the horrors he faced raising himself when every day was a battle for survival. There are topical, meaningful, stories to tell with that backdrop.

But those are never the stories we get.

⚠⚠ Spoilers for Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer ⚠⚠

I'm particularly disappointed in Urban Legends because for the first issue, it looked like that was the kind of story we were going to get. I was put off by the first flashback of Jason being mesmerized by Bruce's guns, and I got that feeling in my gut that it was a bad sign. Jason depicted as impatient and overconfident and the scene with the guns is heavy-handed foreshadowing that got my spidey-sense tingling. I had a inkling then (in the first three pages) of how this story was going to play out, but it was early and I could still see many narrative paths that could lead to a satisfying story. My concerns were soothed somewhat and the little flame of my hope fanned, with the flashback of Alfred scolding Bruce, with Barbara's concern for Jason. A bit of worry returned with the way Jason ruthlessly pursued an addict who didn't appear to be a dealer and with the ending of the issue. The stuff with the addict sat wrong with me but the ending was tempered some by how despicable Tyler's dad was written. The scene was clearly set so that the reader could sympathize with Jason's decision and the scene with the addict could be brushed aside as a side-effect of comics over-the-top need for constant action, so I still held hope.

Issue 2 made me uncomfortable and it's where my hope starts to take a backseat to my expectations. I can dismiss Jason's self-deprecating internal monologue as unreliable narration, except that the flashback reinforces his thought process to explicitly show that it's not unreliable narration, and should be taken at face value. Jason faces physical abuse at the hands of his mother's drug dealer and when the flashback continues later, Jason kills the drug dealer. To be clear, this is a pre-Bruce Jason. His mom is still alive. He's like... 10. He kills this guy for shoving his head into a wall and implying Jason's mother paid for her drugs with sex. This is a scene that serves a single purpose. To show that Jason has always been prone to violence.

In the spirit of full disclosure, there is the small chance the drug dealer might not be dead. But the story obviously wants the reader to think he is, and it hasn't done anything to change that yet.

Starlin already did this story with The Diplomat’s Son in 1988 and he did it infinitely better. AND that’s still technically canon. So now I’m supposed to believe that Jason lost his cool bad enough to kill two douche bags before his sweet 16? Like it’s totally normal for abused kids raised in poverty, who’ve led hard and heartbreaking lives to just... haul off and kill people? That’s bullshit, and when taken with the Jason in the third issue, who is little more than an idiot thug, this story is really doubling down on some fucked up stereotypes.

Which brings us to the most recent issue. I went into this installment with very low expectations. I thought this story was going to be about Jason, through this experience with Tyler, a young boy with a similar background to Jason's, coming to the realization that Bruce's way is the best way and that Bruce did his best by Jason.

That would be annoying (in no small part because it takes increasingly absurd levels of plot armor to keep Bruce's no kill rule relevant, let alone irrefutably right). But I can probably live with that, if only because maybe if Jason officially falls back into line with the Bats crusade, maybe I'll get stories that treat him with respect, stories that don't relegate him to comic relief, dumb brute, or a background body with no lines in a story about the Joker burning Gotham (like Jason would just fucking stand there quietly for that).

And that may still be where the story is going, Jason realizing Bruce is right.

But holy shit do I not have the right words to describe how fucking insulting and gross issue three is.

From start to finish--including the flashback--Jason is written as cruel and fucking stupid. Like straight up dumb.

The entire issue is Bruce explaining the fucking basics to Jason like it's his first day. And Jason flies off the fucking handle and terrorizes a doctor he knows isn't a part of making the Cheerdrops, beats the shit out of some random addicts, and finally, when he can't accomplish anything on his own because he's a dumb brute he calls Barbara for help and rushes in with no information where he's promptly incapacitated and must now wait to be rescued by Batman.

This panel is the least of the issues sins but I can’t screenshot the entire story but it’s representative of the tone for the whole issue (and retroactively tainted the prior two issues).

This is beyond insulting. The only conclusions Jason comes to in this issue are the ones Bruce leads him to by talking to him like he can’t make the simplest connections. And like... in this story Jason can’t make the simplest connections.

This (and the Jason throughout the entirety of this issue) is a far cry from the Jason we fell in love with in Under the Red Hood, who was competent and strategic and intelligent enough to seize control of Gotham’s underworld from Black Mask (who’s no fucking slouch, he’s the first and only person to unify organized crime in Gotham) AND elude and manipulate Bruce until the time and place of his choosing.

This is a far cry from even the Red Hood and the Outlaws Jason who is competent enough to fight the League of Shadows and Ra’s al Ghul (among very dangerous and skilled others) and smart enough to create antidotes for mind control nanotech viruses.

As he should be, by the way. Jason Todd is one of the best, most comprehensively trained fighters in DC’s stable of non powered vigilantes. He’s not irrational or hot headed. He’s pragmatic, tactically minded, and patient. He’s a detective. Right now. Has been since he was 12. Bruce doesn’t have to make him one because he already is. 

Jason is not a stupid thug who uses his fists because his brain doesn’t work. And I can’t tell you how so very exhausted I am by this narrative. 

This is actually the most egregious example of Jason’s skills and intelligence being not just undermined but dismissed entirely. Even Morrison’s Jason had some degree of competency. 

The one, single redeeming factor of this story is the art. It’s beautiful. And Marcus To is a godsend he seems to be one of only a couple of artists who remember that Jason was a child when he was Robin and I’m literally only buying this book because of him. 

Anyway, I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to come out so... um... passionately lol. I’m just very very tired. My intention with this isn’t to ruin it for you, if you like it, that’s fine. 

But this issue shot this story to the top of my "Vehemently Despise” list. 1) Batman: Urban Legends (Cheer), 2) Battle for the Cowl/Morrison’s Batman and Robin, 3) Batman The Adventure Continues.

I hope the next issues somehow salvage this dumpster fire. But I’m not expecting it.

(Damnit. That sounded harsh again. To reiterate, I’m not trying to judge anyone who enjoys it, I just personally hate it and you asked me why lol 😅)

[leiawritesstories]

Improbability

Rowaelin Month, Day 26: You’re seeing my roommate and accidentally walked into my shower. Featuring Sam and Rowan as roommates. :)))

Word count: 1542

Warnings: language, little bit of math gobbledygook that I stole from my stats class.

Enjoy!

~~~~

“Mate, you alright with my girlfriend coming over today?” Sam called out to his roommate. “We’re probably going out, but I asked her over here first.”

Rowan pulled out one of his earbuds and stuck his head out his bedroom door. “Yeah, that’s totally fine, just for God’s sake warn me if you’re going to do the dirty on our couch, bud.”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME!” Sam yelled, “and I was 100 percent sure you had football!”

“It’s called soccer, Cortland!” Rowan laughed, never missing the chance to poke at his British roommate. 

“Whatever, mate. You’re good with Ae hanging out here for a bit, yeah?”

“Sure am. She’s a fun person.” Rowan put his earbud back in and returned to doing his homework, or rather, swearing at his statistics textbook. Some fifteen minutes later, he heard the door of his and Sam’s dorm open.

“Anybody home?” enquired a throaty female voice. “Someone told me he was at home, but obviously he’s too busy to go out today. Guess I’ll just go drink with the girls, then.”

“And leave me lonely?” Sam asked.

Aelin Galathynius, who’d been dating Sam for almost two years now, smiled. “Never.”

He returned the grin and pulled her into the living room, where their conversation faded into a blur of noise too dim for Rowan to interpret. Not that he minded…much. Aelin was hilarious, though, and he loved hearing her make cracks at Sam’s British habits, her friends, her day, and pretty much anything else she thought deserved a snarky comment. 

Slamming his stats book closed, Rowan huffed a sigh and decided that he could use a quick shower to relax a little before heading out to training. He grabbed his towel and a bar of soap and went into the tiny dorm shower, which was low enough that he, at 6’3,” had to crouch to fit under the shower head. Grumbling to himself about the stupidity of whatever idiot architect designed dormitory showers, he stood under the stream of hot water and tried to make sense of all he still had to do. Which was too much. After somewhere around five minutes, he stuck his head out of the shower, realizing the dorm had gone awfully quiet. 

Maybe Sam and Aelin were out, then, he thought.

Rowan turned off the shower and reached for his towel, giving himself a quick dry-off before stepping out. He was just wrapping the towel around his waist when the door swept open.

“Oh, shit, sorry, I didn’t realize you were in here!” gasped Aelin.

Rowan gaped at her, forgetting that the only thing between her and a prime view of what he may or may not have been doing in the shower was a dark green bath towel.

A too-thin green bath towel.

Aelin’s turquoise eyes traveled down his frame, decidedly not missing a single detail. A pink flush spread over her cheekbones, and she hastily backed out of the bathroom and shut the door with a firm click.

Rowan swallowed whatever he’d thought he might have said and told his raging male hormones to calm the hell down. Quickly, before anyone else could walk in on him, he pulled on his practice jersey and sweats and went back to his room, where he grabbed his soccer bag and hauled ass for the gym.

He spent the entire 90-minute workout trying and miserably failing to get the image of Aelin Galathynius in her unfairly attractive blouse and miniskirt blushing at his nearly-nude self out of his mind. When he got back to his dorm, having showered in the locker room, this time without anyone interrupting, Sam and Aelin were gone. Sam had left a note on his bedroom door, stating that he’d probably be back around three. Checking his watch, Rowan groaned. It was almost two, and he’d broken down and signed up for stats tutoring at four. 

He just hoped that whoever the tutor was, they’d be able to help him get his mathematical shit together and pass the course. 

~

Two hours later, Rowan walked into the library and took a seat in the study room marked with a sign that read “STATS 320 TUTORING 4 PM.” Nobody else was there, but to be fair, he was a little early. He plopped his textbook, notebook, and calculator onto the table and waited. 

And nearly fell off his chair when Aelin Galathynius walked into the room.

“What the hell?”

“What the hell, what?” she asked, obviously amused at his reaction. 

“I--I didn’t expect to see you here, that’s what the hell. You here for tutoring too?”

“Yes and no.” Rowan blinked in confusion. Aelin’s little smirk grew bigger. “I am the tutor, Rowan. You’re here for my assistance…and expertise.” She winked.

He felt himself flush at the image that conjured. “Yeah, expertise, in stats, right?” He knew full well he was stammering like a fourteen-year-old on his first date, but that about summed up how his roommate’s girlfriend made him feel right now.

“Correct.” Just like that, Aelin was all business. She set her backpack down, closed the door, and sat across from Rowan. “So. How can I help?”

He sighed. “I’m stuck. I need this class, it’s the last math I have to take for my major, I’m usually decent at math, and I’m fucking stuck on a concept my professor said was fucking simple.” 

Aelin listened to his mini rant without comment. She pulled out her own stats notebook and calculator from her backpack and slipped on a pair of glasses. Rowan cocked his head. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“Reading glasses, Whitethorn. I’m supposed to wear them whenever I’m reading, on my laptop, or studying, but do I? Hell no.” She grinned. “Don’t tell my optometrist.”

“Given that I don’t know them, no problem.” He returned her grin.

She flexed her fingers and turned her attention to Rowan’s math. “Right, big bad soccer boy. Where are you stuck?”

He flipped his book to the section on conditional probability distributions. “Here. I took notes, and it seemed logical enough, but I completely tanked the quiz we just had, and I don’t know where I went wrong.”

Aelin scanned the quiz. “You’re reading the graphs wrong.”

“What?”

“Conditional probability is the probability of an event occurring given that a certain condition is satisfied.” She opened her notebook to a blank page and drew a horizontal line. “Any time you see a condition, that condition goes in the denominator.” She pointed to one of the problems he’d answered wrong on the quiz. “What’s this question asking you to determine?”

“Probability that a student chosen at random is an engineer given that the selected student is female.”

“Right. So, you take the condition, the ‘given,’ and put that number in the denominator. Remember you’re only looking at the row labeled ‘female,’ because that’s the condition. Once the condition’s written in, you find the other part of the question, in this case the number of female engineers. Put that number in the numerator, divide by the denominator, and there you have the probability. Does that make sense?”

“Condition in the denominator…” Rowan mumbled, writing it in his notes. He looked up at Aelin and smacked his hand flat on the table. “Aelin, I’m a fucking idiot. I spent so much time trying to look at the totals that I didn’t remember to keep the condition, I--goddammit, I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Rowan, lots of people struggle with conditional probability at first.”

“I’ll bet you didn’t.”

“Oh, I did. A lot.”

“Really? But you just explained this shit to me better than my professor.”

“I…I happen to like stats. Might be part of my major description, but I just find working with the numbers extremely satisfying.”

“What’s your major?” he asked, intrigued.

“Don’t judge me.”

“Nope. Promise.”

“I’m in finance.”

His eyebrows shot up. “I’m impressed.”

She blushed. “Thanks. It’s a lot of stats and spreadsheets and yelling at each other about the stock market, but I really love it.”

“You’re making me look bad; I’m just your standard pre-PT student athlete”

“Standard pre-PT student athlete,” she mocked, “don’t sell yourself short, Whitethorn. Pre-PT is nothing shabby.”

“Yeah, but not remembering a stupidly easy math concept sure as hell is.”

She snickered. “Fair enough. Is there anything else I can help you with, or is that all for this session?”

He flipped through his notes. “That’s all I had for today, but I’ll probably be back at some point whining about another tricky concept.”

Aelin grinned, closing her notebook. “Wait until you get into chi-squared models. I’ll be here then, waiting for all the stats students to come crying to me while I plug seventeen equations into my spreadsheet and hope it actually calculates the quarterly interest this time.”

Rowan shook his head. “You lost me at ‘chi-squared,’ Aelin.”

“Oh, trust me, it’s fun.”

“As much fun as you and Sam have?”

Her voice dropped to a sultry purr. “Your couch would know.”

Before he could sputter out a response, she’d shouldered her backpack and was walking out the door. Rowan watched Aelin Galathynius leave, wondering how fast he could make up an excuse to talk to his roommate’s brilliant girlfriend again.

[amor-immortalem]

You’re Important to Me

Warnings: thoughts and ideations of the un-aliving variety

Genre: Angst but it gets a lil fluffy at the end

Pairing: Mammon x oc

Summary: The way the witches and his brothers treat him leaves Mammon feeling replaceable and unimportant. His human takes it upon herself to try and make him feel better after finding out something heartbreaking.

A/N: since I hit 150 followers either last night or the day before, I figured I would do something a little different for tonight’s post and give y’all a little 2 part fic instead of art. I haven’t written in a long time and this is not proofread so please excuse any typos. I’m a little rusty.

Part 2| Part 3| Part 4

———————————————————————-

Another day full of studying for upcoming exams at RAD completed and Arella couldn’t be more greatful to finally shut her texts books. Sure, she technically didn’t have to meet the same standards as her demon classmates this time around, but if only one thing could be said about Arella, it was that she was a perfectionist at heart. She’d put in the hard work to get the best possible score- seeing the look of surprise on Satan’s face as she scored better than him would be worth it too, as much as a pipe dream that that would be.

With a soft yawn, Arella pushed away from her desk before grabbing a nightshirt she had stolen borrowed from her boyfriend and stumbled to her bathroom for a quick shower. As she brushed her teeth, she could feel a presence enter her room- well more like she could hear him. Mammon was never all that quiet or stealthy to begin with as much as he’d like to claim otherwise.

Peeking out from the small ensuite, she saw the demon sprawled out on her bed, his face buried in her pillows. Something didn’t feel right. Deciding the shower could wait, Arella made her way across the room to where the bed was located.

“Hey,” She started, gently placing a hand on his back to let him know she was there, “I thought you said you’d be out late with the Witches. Did something happen?”

“Not really….” Mammon starts, his voice muffled by the pillows before he turned to face her. “They got all they could get out of me so they jus’ let me go and I wasn’t havin’ a good time anyway so I jus’ came home….”

Arella frowned at his tone. He sounded upset, depressed almost.

“An’ then the moment I walk in the door, Lucifer’s on my ass ‘bout some stupid fuckin’ bill that came in…. So I got to sit there ‘n listen to him go on an’ on about how I’m such a fuck up and what worthless scum I am, not to mention the rest of my brothers took the first chance they could to hop on the bandwagon and I’m….. I’m just so tired.” At this, Mammon flops over onto his back, throwing an arm over his face.

“Mammon…” Her voice is soft, full of concern as tries unsuccessfully to pull his arm away so she could look him in the eyes.

“Arella, Am I important….?” Mammon asks as he tries -but fails- to hide the way his voice cracks. “Would everyone just be happier if I was….. gone?”

Its that question that shatters her heart to tiny fragments.

“Wha- Of course you are, Love. Why would you say that? I know your brothers take things too far sometimes but they’d be devastated if something happened to you. I would be heartbroken if anything happened to you. We all love you so much, Honey….”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Mammon barked out a laugh that sounded bitter. “Not with the way they rag on me like they do…. Actually, they’d probly be jumpin’ for joy if I were to off myself- don’t know why I ain’t done it already….”

“Mammon, don’t talk like that. You’re scaring me.”

“Its true though. If I take myself out, then they won’t ever have to deal with the consequences when I fuck up. Won’t have to worry ‘bout me stealin’ their shit to get my hands on some extra grimm.

“Stop it right now, please.”

“It’s not like they’d miss me much anyway. You probly would but let’s face it, ya could do so much better than me anyway... Ya know, I got this pills that I swiped the other day, plannin’ ta sell ‘em an’ all but I think-“

“Mammon, stop!” Arella pressed her hands over his mouth to keep him from finishing his sentence “Please. No more….. No…. More.”

She collapsed down to his chest as violent sobs erupted from her. She had lost someone to suicide before, she couldn’t and wouldn’t go through that again- especially not with the person who was most important to her.

“I’m here for you. I will always be here fir you.,” Arella tightened her hold on the demon beneath her, her body still shuddering with each breath she took in a miserable attempt to compose herself. “So please. Please just don’t do it.”

At her tears, the demon could only react with silence. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when letting his feelings out but it wasn’t a reaction like this.

Maybe part of him was hoping for her to agree with him and let her words feed into his terrible mood, or maybe part of him wanted Arella to scold him for daring to even think about taking his own life but there wasn’t any part of him that wanted her to react with sobs and wails, with her begging him not to go through with it.

Slowly, Mammon brought his arms to wrap around her, holding her tight against his chest. They were quiet for a long while as they just held each other.

“I’m….. I’m sorry….” Mammon was the first to speak, to break the silence that had suddenly become suffocating. “I don’t know what I was talking about….”

Arella didn’t reply right away, choosing instead to hold him just a little tighter a bit long.

“Do you feel better now that you’ve talked about what’s going through your mind?” She lifted her head from its place on his chest to look him in the eyes for the first time that night.

She smiled softly as he nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re so important both to your brothers and to me. There’s no one like you in the all of the three realms. If you weren’t here our lives would be so much darker and so much more boring, do you know that?”

“Yeah, I doubt that.”

“No it’s true,” Arella hums, as she pushes his hair back and places a peck to his forehead. “You want to know something else?”

“What?” Mammon arches a brow, “if it’s something cheesy, I’m leaving.”

Arella laughs at that. “I love you more than anything in this life or the next, and, no, you’re staying in here where I can see you.”

“What? C’mon, babe, I won’t do anything stupid, so don’t worry ‘bout me. And the last thing I need is Lucifer gettin’ at me because I spent the night in here when I shoulda been in my room.”

“Then I won’t give you a choice.” She starts matter of factly, “I’m invoking our pact. You’re sleeping in my room tonight where I can keep you close and pamper you all night. Also you’re going to tell me where you’ve hidden those pills you were talking about earlier and if their in one of your safes, you’re going to tell me the combination to it.”

“Arella, I-“ he groaned starting to complain

“No. This is important, Baby. I’m doing this because I care. Not to mention if Lucifer were to somehow find you in possession of those pills….. his rage would be so great that not even I would be able to stand between you two.”

Another moment of silence happened between them as Arella’s orders went into effect. Mammon let out a soft, discontented growl before finally breaking the silence.

“Fiiiiine. They’re in the safe that’s hidden in my pool table. The combination it 0127. Happy?”

“Very.” She replies cheerily. “Now, you’d better get comfortable, sir, because I’m going to remind The Great Mammon just how amazing, how wonderful , how special, and how loved he is.”

“Whatever, you dork, jus’ get off a me so I can move to a better spot.” He huffed as he shifted around under her, trying to hide the faint blush was already threatening to make itself at home of his cheeks.

———————————————————————-

Masterlist 2

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Let Chaos Reign

Chapter 3- Don’t Provoke The Bear

Summary: After getting your shit rocked by the Avengers, you now wake up in a strange new place even more pissed off then you already were. Also that one pretty looking dark haired guy won’t leave you alone.

Warning: reader being chaotic, Bucky trying his best

Masterlist - Chapter 2

Eyes still closed you can feel a soft pressure holding you up, slowly parting your eyelids, you’re soon greeted by the sight of bright lights circling you overhead, though they remain unmoving. On further inspection, once you force yourself into a seated position, you take notice that you’re in some kind of flat spherical glass holding cell.

Blinking groggily, you look down to find your clothes are all still on your body, suddenly a pang of fear hits you at the thought of your mothers necklace. Reaching for it, you’re relieved to feel it’s still with you. Thanking whoever will listen for that bit of good fortune in this otherwise adverse predicament.

Shifting your gaze back to the current situation of the room, you’re able to see around to some sort of large cavernous lab area with a multitude of that armored man from earlier, though you can tell there is no vital life that stirs within them. Guards maybe? Decoys? You have no idea.

Suddenly your eyes catch movement from the left door, a dark skinned man in black clothing and a single patch over his left eye appears. “Good morning. I’m Director Fury.” He smiles with a friendly nod, arms clasped behind his back while he walks over to you, “Or should I say afternoon?”

Getting off the elevated bed, you wander towards the thick glass keeping you from him, “Where am I?”

Fury nods, “Better question you should be asking is how long you’ve been out for, cause damn, you can sleep.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He chuckles knowingly, “I almost couldn’t believe it myself when the team told me. But wow, holding back both Vision and Wanda for as long as you did. I’m thoroughly impressed.” He boasts for you, genuinely fascinated by your daring feat.

Right, those two.

You frown, gaze hard set and intimidating, “Where the fuck am I?”

“Well for one, you’ve been out for a whole 15 hours since they found you unconscious but alive after getting blasted by Vision and Wanda. Weren’t sure if you were gonna make it, seems the universe has yet to take you out.”

Pursing your lips together in irritation, you glare through the glass at him, “Well I’m not exactly from here so....doesn’t matter. Tell me what this place is and where the fuck I am!”

He holds up his hands, “Alright no need to get heated.” Before clasping them behind his back as he begins pacing slowly back and forth in front of you, “You’ve created quit the stir since arriving in Ireland. My intelligence first received a message indicating a storm greater then a category four hurricane, which by our standards is pretty damn massive. Soon a fun little video of you throwing some busses around like rag dolls peaked my interest. And give or take a couple days, here you are.”

Giving him a deadpanned stare, you cross your arms, “The mystery of the century. Where am I?”

“Alright fine I won’t leave you in suspense, you’re in New York State. In a very secure and safe facility home to the Avengers. Nice place huh?” He smiles, dark eyes looking elsewhere as he gives a little once over of the room.

“I’m in a cell.”

“Yes. But it’s a clean cell.”

Suddenly you slam your left fist against the thick glass causing him to flinch, “You have no right to hold me here! Release me. Now.” You growl darkly, golden irises appearing to almost glow with your building vexation.

“Can’t do that.”

“Alright then, if that’s how it’s going to be. Then I’ll do it myself.”

A second later he’s genuinely startled as you cock your arm back before slamming it into the clear thick glass. With the power of bending the material and your people’s strength, the glass cracks into a fist sized area. Satisfied with this, you do it again and again before a voice startles you.

[Miss, please refrain from breaking that. Mr. Stark has requested that you stop immediately.]

“Agreed.” Says Fury as he hustles over to the far wall, bringing his arm up to his mouth, he speaks but you can’t tell what he’s saying. What nonsense is he even doing?

Ignoring both of them, you punch the glass a fourth time before the voice interrupts again. [Miss. Please suspend your advances. Mr. Stark is on his way.]

Halting your fist from punching a fifth time, you take a step back and bring yourself to the center. Positioning yourself in a fighters stance, legs slightly bent, arms held about 90 degrees; you thrust them forward causing the metal contraption to creak and whine in protest.

Holding your arms close to your body now, you make two tight fists before violently punching at the air; the metal holding in the glass slams forcefully against the far wall. Destroying a couple of those stoic armored sentinels in the process.

“What the fuck?!” Yelps Fury in surprise as he falls to the floor from the force of the impact, “Hey! You better stay right the fuck over there!” He warns while cowering in the corner, nothing to really threaten you with but his voice. That is until he pulls out a stunted black gun, like the ones you have seen on the Norwegian police. You ignore his threats anyways.

Taking your first steps out of the desolated cell feels almost euphoric, your body embraces how strong and dangerous you feel among this place and what has presented itself to you within her walls. A man and his words, a disembodied voice telling you to stop fighting your way to freedom. Ridiculous, they have no idea who you are.

You take a single step left when the man, Fury, shouts loudly, “Stay right there!” Your eyes find the gun held tightly within his grasp, “I will shoot!”

You don’t care for this shallow warning, there are things in this universe more important then a mortal mans fearful intimidation. Opening up your palm, the gun flies out of his hands while he gasps with a start, eyes wide and panicked as you turn the short nosed barrel towards him. Closing your fist, the gun combusts to nothing more then destroyed metal and hard plastic as it clatters to the floor.

He watches in disbelief as you then turn to your left before taking the first door that reads exit above it; you wander past a long hallway until you come across a door leading to a long flight of stairs to some floor with a sign reading - Parking Area - the door is obviously closed.

This is too easy, you think suspiciously, somethings not right.

Opening up the door, you’re greeted by a large cavernous glass and metal room holding a large black aircraft on the far end, a couple more vehicles parked in various areas spread about the place. And not a soul in sight.

Hustling along into the room, you’re able to reach the door on the other side, opening it, you cautiously stick your head out. Ahead of you is a large green yard stretching all the way back to a tree line with trees placed neatly along a road leading up to the facilities main entrance area.

To your far left is a large river, but still, you have no idea where New York is. This is all unfamiliar territory to you, so finding the Ancient One is going to be a tough fucking job.

Not seeing anyone, you take your first couple steps into the open. Soon you’ve made it halfway across the grass headed for the tree line before the sound of gravel crunching causes you to pause and turn around to face the intruder.

So close. The woods are right there.

Clenching your fists, you keep a defensive stance as you stare him down, this man is undoubtedly familiar. He’s dressed in boots, jeans, a pair of cloves for some reason, and a faded grey t-shirt that’s mostly covered by his forest green jacket, while his long dark hair is washed and sits handsomely around his face. Blue eyes staring at you apprehensively, “We’re not here to harm you.” Cautiously says the man in a soft tone of voice, hoping not to provoke you again.

“Then why was I just locked in a cell?”

He pauses for a moment, “Uh, okay, yeah that looks bad.”

“Precisely.

You turn to leave, yet his voice makes you stay, “You don’t have to be on your own you know. I don’t know what you’re looking for, or who....but doing it alone will only take longer. We could help you, if you want.” He suggests with the tiniest hint of a smile. You don’t trust him.

You look towards the lake before finding his gaze yet again, your golden eyes admittedly sadder as you softly answer him, “No one can help me.”

He takes a step forward, face softening, “I felt the same way once. Alone and confused, not sure where to go, no one to trust. Believe me, it sucked......so, I’m just hoping you’ll listen. That’s it.”

“Well, I don’t particularly like any of you. And so far you’ve all gotten in my way and fought me....I have no reason to trust a thing you say.”

He purses his lips together and nods, you’ve got him there, but nonetheless he takes another step forward, “Sorry about that.” He mutters while rubbing the back of his neck, “Uh, let me try and start over....I’m Bucky. And I am definitely not here to fight you. Promise.”

Eyeing him up suspiciously, you take a step back, “Y/N Lavpranthus..of Vanaheim.” You finally reveal, albeit with a smidge of apprehension, however you are not one to hold back your own name if someone is to speak freely theirs.

Bucky nods, incredibly grateful for your calm demeanor for the moment and this first bout of information given willingly by you, though he has not a single clue where Vanaheim is, this is progress. Good progress; perhaps the team was right to send him out first as their guinea pig against the big bad wolf.

Stupid in retrospect, but so far it’s appeared an effective strategy instead of Tony’s idea which was to have Vision and Wanda knock you out again. Not an efficient way to make friends who can throw busses around like its nothing but a bag of grapes...and all without even touching them.

Bucky reveals the flash of a smile as you slowly calm your once defensive stance, though you’re still wary of his true intentions, “Y/N.” Repeats Bucky with a genuine grin as he tests out your name on his tongue, “Never heard that one before, it’s beautiful.

Taken aback by his kindness and sincere compliment to your name, you finally let your guard down, “My mother gave that to me, it was her sisters name, though she died before I met her. Guess it doesn’t matter now...” He frowns as you share a dismal look with the ground, remembering the events that brought you here in the first place. 

Family.

Soon your anger rises once more as you think of your brother, that conniving piece of shit, “Bucky....I-I can’t stay here. I have to go, you wouldn’t understand. And I don’t want you to be involved....fuck....he probably already has scouts hunting for me.”

Bucky’s brows furrow in confusion, who would you be talking about he has no idea, “Y/N, no one could hurt you here, alright. This place is pretty damn guarded. I mean, we are the Avengers.”

Shaking your head you take a step backwards, “No, none of you understand how dangerous he is, I’m lucky he didn’t kill me when he had the chance.”

“Who tried to kill you?”

Finding his worried gaze once more, you back closer towards the woods, a knowingly loathsome look crossing your features as you frown, “My brother.” And with that do you make a swift exit into the trees, out of sight in an instant.

Bucky takes a hasty step forward before looking back at the base where all of the Avengers are watching from the windows, they collectively make a go-get-her motion with their hands, indicating that Y/N is now his problem.

Fantastic, he thinks sarcastically, half the team can fly and I’m going after a demigod with family problems.

——

Jumping over fallen trees and ragged roots alike, you’re swifter then a young leopard under the treetops, it’s admittedly incredibly freeing that you almost get lost in the rush of it all as your boots pound against the leafy ground.

Arms pumping you quickly along while you run deeper into the woods, you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so free, though your fun soon comes to an abrupt halt when something hard latches onto both of your legs, instantly you begin falling towards the quickly approaching earth.

With lightening reflexes, your hands are thrusted outwards while you emit a blast of air that saves you from suffering brain damage or a bruised face. The wind aids your body in stabilizing itself once again; now standing with your lower legs tied collectively by some metal clasp, you quickly clap your hands together before focusing your release.

The metal clamps rip apart from off of your legs, freeing you in an instant, “What the fuck was that about?” You mutter to yourself when what would you know it, there’s Bucky standing not even twenty feet from you, an apologetic look on his annoyingly handsome face.

He raises his gloved hands into the air, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how else to stop you...”

Shaking your head in disappointment, you take a step in his direction, “Bucky, you’re going to really wish you didn’t just do that.”

“Uh.” Is all he’s able to mutter before you send him flying backwards with the force of a small windstorm, you watch in amusement as he breaks some branches on his way to the ground.

“You really don’t like following orders now do you?” He hears you chuckle, “I like that. You’ve got a brave heart I’ll admit.” He watches as you walk into view, a knowing smirk adorning your beautiful otherworldly features, “Courage, it’s good. Even after what I did to you a couple days ago, you still came to speak with me when no one else dared, it’s valiant. You would be a noble warrior in my homeland.”

Bucky could have blushed if not for the stick poking uncomfortably into his back, “Thanks....you seem like...uh....an experienced...woman.” Mutters Bucky, mentally cringing at how unbelievably stupid that just sounded in comparison with how gloriously divine you are.

You snort, “Easy on the eyes and a skilled fighter. Guess conversation is too adept for even the likes of you.”

Bucky shows you a cheeky grin as he jumps to his feet, “Well....uh...you don’t really know me that well yet.”

You laugh at his weak flirting skills, “Too bad I’ve got elsewhere to be. I bet you’re fine company.”

“Right...right, yeah...” Mumbles Bucky with a nod, not really confident he’s gonna be able to sway you completely to his side, he just needs you to come back with him to the base. That’s it, well, in a calmly manner. “Uh...do you even know where you are?”

You open your mouth to speak but pause as you actually have not a single clue where you really are, brows furrowed you answer, “Upstate New York.” Your accent dripping strong with a tinge of uncertainty that greatly annoys you.

Bucky smiles, “Do you know where that is?”

“Well.....not completely but I’m willing to find out, elsewhere. I don’t need help, believe me.”

Bucky throws his hands up, “I believe you. It’s just....I don’t think you’re gonna find your brother without a little guidance here...”

“Don’t patronize me!” You snap angrily, eyes practically glowing gold as you fill with irritation; he’s trying to distract you from your goal, you don’t need any help from anyone. Your brother would never dare ask for such a thing if he was in your place, he probably would have killed this man in the facility yard without a second thought. “You’re all just prying little bastards, I have no business with any of you when my personal quandary is concerned!”

Clearly noticing he’s struck some kind of nerve, and remembering he’s been tasked with gathering as much information about you as possible while striving for the end goal of a truce. Bucky stupidly pressures you further, “Your brother can’t be that terrible, I mean.....what did he do?” Asks Bucky with a casual shrug, a sudden pang of fear flashing through his eyes as you send him a nasty glare.

You don’t even give him a moment to react before his forest green jacket is ablaze from your quick thrust of flame out of your fist, Bucky instantly yelps in surprise before swiftly throwing the burning fabric off of him before he catches fire himself. The jacket falls to a flaming heap on the forest floor, “What the hell?!” Yells Bucky, eyes wide at your incredibly abrupt act of hostility.

Whoosh!

And Bucky’s flat on his back with you right on top of him, kneeling down to meet his startled gaze, his breath hitches as you forcefully grab his stubbled jaw. Your eyes two golden coins of tempered rage, “You have no idea what he has done to me or my realm, you’re lucky I’m not like him or you’d be a burnt corpse adding to the ash of the universe. Pray you never meet him.” Your lip quivers in angered emotion as you lightly squeeze his jaw, “And if we meet again, I assure you someone will die.”

Bucky keeps still as stone as you finally release him from your admittedly powerful grasp, soon you rise to your full height, giving him one last conflicted look before sauntering off into the bushes.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he had, chest rising heavily as the adrenaline rush of the fire and you touching him brings him back to reality. He’s on the ground in the woods and you’re absolutely no where to be seen. Soon he jumps to his feet and jogs in your direction until he reaches a gravel road leading back to the Avengers Facility.

You’re gone, just like a phantom in the shadows, gone.

Shaking his head in frustration, Bucky treks back to the base where Steve, Tony, and Natasha are waiting for him outside, all equally curious as to what the hell happened.

“Looks like you were unsuccessful, Barnes.” Quips Tony as Bucky throws him a dirty look.

“She’s...just.....complicated.” Mutters the tired Winter Soldier with a frown as they follow him to the front doors.

——

Bucky slouches comfortably into the back of the lounging rooms giant plush couch, a heating pad seated blissfully against his bruised back from all the times you knocked his ass to the ground today. Sam, Tony, Steve, and Natasha seated in various areas around the lounging room as they give him a break to rest.

Though the peace is soon broken by the sound of Tony’s irritating voice, “You at least get a name to hold against that psycho?”

Bucky throws him an annoyed glance, “She’s not a psycho, and her name is Y/N....I can’t remember her last name. It was something Middle Earth-like I don’t know.”

“Y/N?” Repeats Steve, “That’s different.”

Bucky’s face shifts to concentrated puzzlement, “Yeah, I know....it’s just, she said Y/N of Vanaheim or whatever that means....not sure but she’s definitely not from around here.”

“Really? What drew you to that final conclusion.” Jokes Sam as Bucky mutters an incomprehensible fuck off while the Falcon chuckles.

Natasha’s voice suddenly enters the conversation, “So she’s after her brother?”

Bucky nods, “Yep.”

“And doesn’t appear to know her way around this world either?”

“Yep.”

Natasha hums in thought as Sam speaks, “Damn. I wonder what happened to her before she got dumped into our world...”

Bucky suddenly sits up, “It’s just....she said some people are probably already after her, uh....her brothers guardsman I think?”

Steve takes a step forward, eye brows raised in interest, “Guardsmen?”

Tony nods, “Or are these some type of glorified assassins? I’m just putting this out there, but we really need to get this shit under control before she ends up destroying a building next. Or these, whoever is after her, decide to...oh I don’t know...kill some civilians while they’re at it.”

Bucky’s face shifts to puzzlement, “Dammit. It’s kinda my fault she ran off.” They all give him a varying amount of intrigued expressions as he sighs, “I was just trying to get more info out of her and then I talked about her brother and she set my jacket on fire, before throwing me to the ground and roughly grabbing my face to threaten me, she was really mad too.”

Sam smirks, “Did you enjoy it. Getting manhandled by a pretty lady in the woods?”

“Sam.” Mutters Steve like a disappointed father reprimanding his son.

“Come on Buck, it’s okay, you can tell us. Was it nice?”

Bucky throws him a deadly glare, “Actually it was, I felt very loved and comforted.” He quips, voice dripping in sarcasm before a more thoughtful expression crosses his features, “But she didn’t actually hurt me. I don’t know, she almost looked conflicted to leave....I don’t know it happened so fast.” He mumbles, closing his eyes as he falls back into the comfort of the couch.

“Well as much as I’m enjoying this time together with all of you...” Says Natasha, “We now have a person from an unknown world on the loose with incredible power and the means to use it as she wants. We all know where that can lead us.”

“With more collateral damage then what Ultron gave us.” Adds Tony, “Fortunately this time it won’t be my fault...like that makes a big difference I know. Still, she’s the Avengers newest problem now and we don’t have a damn clue where Miss. Anger Management is.”

“Uh, not exactly.” Starts Bucky as they all turn to look at him. Sam raises an intrigued brow, “What do you mean, not exactly?”

“I, well uh-when she was threatening me, well one of the times she was threatening me...I was able to plant a tracker on the inside of her one pocket. Then she pushed me into the grass and ran off into the woods, I couldn’t keep up even if I tried. She was just gone, but at least I was able to do that. It’s something.”

“Barnes.” Says Tony slowly, “And you’re just telling us this now? When we could have been sending some intelligence or agents or even ourselves out to find her.”

“Sorry but I was recovering from getting beaten up by a beautiful demigod to remember so soon,” Sasses Bucky, “but yeah, that aside, she’s got a tracker on her so all I’d need to do is pull it up on my phone and I’m good to go. Well, as long as she hasn’t found it yet.” 

“If it’s just like that, you’re sharing with the rest of the class.” Says Tony while he wanders over to the television mounted upon the wall, “I’m gonna have you link with the tv, I don’t wanna miss a second.”

With a dramatic sigh does the Winter Soldier lean over to grab the thin metal device from off of the coffee table in front of him while Tony flicks on the large tv screen. Once all is set correctly and synched up, the others watch on in curiosity as he scrolls around a bit before finding the app and clicking on it, a couple passwords are sent in and accepted when the screen then shows one option labeled -Unite_1P - between two white bars within a sea of black.

He taps the label and the screen changes to a view of North America resembling that of google maps, but the screen soon shifts to zoom in on a moving pin point in red that’s traveling a couple miles far northeast of the Bronx, where it appears that Y/N happens to be trekking through some forest heading downwards towards that designated part of New York City.

Steve’s eyes trail over the red pin point, “So that’s where Y/N is going?”

“Seems like it. And she hasn’t a damn clue where she’s actually going either.”

Sam keeps his gaze locked onto the map as well, “And what does she want exactly?”

 “She said something about finding her brother but that’s honestly it, I tried to help her but it was almost pointless. She’s on her own mission now, and no ones going to get in her way.”

Steve sighs, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“What?”

“Y/N. Someone getting in her way, someone just trying to lend a hand and she takes it the wrong way and then...”

“I know man, but I don’t think she’d do that to some innocent person. At least I don’t think she would.” Worries Bucky while everyone takes a moment to process and stare at the screen, red pin point still moving slowly towards New York City. The creak of wood is suddenly heard and all five Avengers turn their heads towards the abrupt noise of Director Fury who’s found himself a spot to stand in the large room.

“Unfortunately we don’t know that. And as the worlds mightiest heroes. It’s your collective duty to always assume the worst. She’s strong, has a goal, and appears able to get it if she tries hard enough. It’s admirable, and yes she’s no Loki...but she is a danger to Earth the less we know about her true intentions and the longer she’s out of our reach.” Explains Fury, “Barnes you’ve done incredibly well. But our apparent need for you has increased as well, so I suggest you smack on a band-aid because we’re going to have a nice civil conversation with her whether she wants it or not.”

“Me?”

“Yes you. You’re the only person she hasn’t tried to send a chunk of metal at, you got close, you got the information. We need you to do it again.”

Steve looks to Fury, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. What if she...”

“I’ll do it.....” They all give Bucky a collective array of questionable facial expressions as he shrugs, “What? I think she’ll listen, maybe, okay I’m not one hundred percent sure if Y/N will hear me out. But I gotta try right? She’s conflicted inside, she’s hurt and alone....if I just have a moment, another moment, I think I could get to her. I think she’ll listen.”

Fury smiles as Steve lowers his gaze, “That’s what I like to hear Mr. Barnes. And don’t none of you worry alright. We’ll be close, at a safer distance of course, but close in case anything goes south. Now the day is still young and we have a demigod to find, I assume you all know what to do.”

Steve looks to the array of assembled heroes, “Suite up..well actually...just Bucky.”

The designated man of the hour rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.”

-

Tagged: @buckylokisimp @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender  @a-girl-who-loves-disney @bizarrebibitch @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @jmstz @thehornytitties @staygoldsquatchling02 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @mischiefmanaged71​ @noragracebrewer   @atomicpersonacheesecake  @thescarlettvvitch @shawnartmendes​

[eliemo]

Something Long and Stupid

Summary: Remus knew he wasn't a good person. He was Deadpool, a killer for hire, "the merc with a mouth." He'd come to terms with what he was a long time ago. He didn't need Spiderman to remind him of what he was.

He didn't need Virgil to come into his life and make him question it for the first time

TWs: Violence, threats, strong language, blood

Notes: Superhero au, Spiderman Virgil, Deadpool Remus, enemies to lovers Dukexiety

New project that nobody asked for. I know I should finish my ongoing wips before starting a new one but I do not control the hyperfixation.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

When Virgil kicked Remus in the chest and sent him hurtling off the building into an active construction site, Remus found himself thinking about how they’d met.

Honestly, it hadn’t started off much better. Spiderman was a piece of shit who thought he was so much better than Remus just because Deadpool killed some people every now and then.

Well, that had been the first impression anyway. They hadn’t exactly started off on the right foot.

Remus had been doing his job, thank you very much, he was a mercenary for hire, it wasn’t like he’d been going after a gang of strangers for fun. And he certainly hadn’t needed help.

There were three of them and one of him, just some standard thugs that had been causing a bit too much trouble for people with more money to spend, their names already set to pay for Remus’s rent this month.

He’d unsheathed his swords, (guns would make it over too quickly, and what was the fun in that?) letting the assholes get their hopes up by grabbing for their own weapons and then—

Then all his targets were all suddenly covered in webs, firmly plastered to the nearest wall with threats and screaming that Remus ignored in favor of whirling around, slicing the air with his blades.

“Hey, what the fuck?”

Spiderman was half hanging off the wall, stepping back down onto the ground when he saw Remus staring. “You’re welcome,” he called, like Remus had asked for him to come in ruin is fun.

Remus scoffed, because rude. You don’t just steal someone’s kill like that. But at least they were immobilized now, which meant shooting them and getting the day over with would be a piece of cake. The webs weren’t budging no matter how frantically they kicked.

He yanked his gun from his belt to do exactly that, only to have another web (seriously, fucking spider webs had no business being this strong) wrapped around his wrist, another pulling the pistol right out of his hand.

“Uh, motherfucker?” Remus took a step back, furiously grabbing at the lingering webs with his bare hands, grimacing at the way it clung to his leather. “Jeez, you want me to decapitate them instead?”

“They’re already down,” the asshole said, like Remus hadn’t noticed. “Back off, Deadpool.”

Remus didn’t have time to be surprised that Spiderman knew who he was, far too busy wanting to run over and punch him right in his stupid masked face. “Ok, clearly you don’t know my deal. Move it, Webs.”

“Then you don’t know mine,” he said, masked eye staring blankly from underneath the hood over his suit. “I’m not letting you murder defenseless people.”

“They’re not fucking defenseless.”

“They’re not breaking free,” the spider said. “The cops will take whoever I capture for them. Call them and leave.”

Remus scoffed and tightened his hold on his sword, wondering if he really wanted to get into a fight with Spiderman in the middle of the afternoon. It was only fucking Tuesday, he was too tired to deal with this shit. “And they can take them in body bags. Give me my gun back.”

Remus was a good foot taller than him, and loaded with about three times as many weapons, but the masked asshole didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. God, he was probably smirking under his suit.

“I finished the fight, I get to decide.” He turned around, his back to Remus like he didn’t even care. “Maybe try to be faster next time.”

“Oh, fuck right off with that,” Remus snarled. “Fuck off. Fuck off and suck a fat dick, you fucking—”

“Either you walk away, or I leave you tied to the wall.”

“Kinky,” Remus smirked, even if Spiderman couldn’t see it under his own mask. “But fat fucking luck. No way in hell am I letting some bitch in black and purple spanx steal my kill.”

Spiderman actually had the audacity to sigh, like he was dealing with a petulant child. “Nobody’s getting killed.”

“You know, I’ve got more than one gun,” Remus said, mentally calculating how fast he’d have to move to shoot every single person in this alleyway. “I’m playing nice. Get out of my way.”

“You’re not shooting someone who can’t fight back.”

“Oh, are you the moral police?” Jesus, Remus wanted to punch this guy. “Man, fuck off. It’s none of your business.”

He grabbed for his other gun, only to immediately feel something wrap around his waist and legs, yanking hard and lifting him into the air. He shouted something he really hoped no pedestrians were close by enough to overhear, doing his absolute best to give Spiderman his coldest glare as he was slammed against the brick wall, upside down, held firmly down by fucking spider webs.

“Oh, you bitch.”

Remus twisted and thrashed, and while he could feel the webs giving way already it would be a good few minutes until he was free. That fucking asshole.

“Next time I see you I’m cutting off your spider ass and hanging it on my fucking wall!”

Spiderman ignored him, and Remus watched as he grabbed the thugs Remus was supposed to kill and one by one swung them out of the alleyway before disappearing completely.

That whore.

It hadn’t been long, unfortunately, until they’d met again, and Remus had of course tried to punch the asshole right in the head.

They’d ended up on the same rooftop, which was even worse because Remus came up here to relax. Spiderman had just been sitting there, legs dangling over the edge as he watched over the city, looking almost peaceful with his hood down and the sun beating against his mask.

So Remus had immediately vaulted over and swung at him as hard as he possibly could.

And then he’d missed, because of course Spidey had to have fucking inhuman reflexes, which was bullshit. He’d ducked away and managed to jump to Remus’s side before Remus even registered that his fist had met nothing but air.

“Can you leave?” Spiderman asked, so unbothered it only made Remus angrier. “I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Making sure people don’t get killed,” he said, moving back towards the ledge. “You should try it sometime.”

Remus crossed his arms, watching the vigilante in disbelief. “You get that I’m a mercenary, right? You’re surprised by the killing thing?”

“I’m not,” he said, and he still wouldn’t even look at Remus. “But I’m stopping it when I can.”

“Oh? So you’re ruining a small business?” Remus threw his arms out and turned towards the ledge overlooking the bustling city. “Spiderman doesn’t support small businesses, you heard it here first, folks!”

Spidey was staring at him now, and Remus had a sneaking suspicion he would not appreciate the look he was being given if the mask was taken off. Asshole.

“I don’t support killing people, Deadpool.”

“Sucks,” Remus said. “You should’ve stayed out of the way. If I wasn’t so kind and generous I would have shot you.”

“You mean if you hadn’t been tied up and defenseless,” Spiderman corrected, and Remus was right back to wanting to punch him. “You’re lucky I didn’t get you arrested.”

Remus dramatically put a hand to his chest and gasped, walking along the roof’s edge. “Oh no. What ever would I have done? I’d be defeated! My one weakness. C ops.”

Spidey didn’t respond, but he did get up and move away when Remus got a bit too close to where he was perched on the ledge. Ha .

“Maybe I should have called the cops on you, Spidey,” Remus added. “They’d finally catch the masked menace. Some jail time might humble you.”

“I’d be fine,” Spiderman said. “I wasn’t the one tied to a wall.”

Remus hopped back onto the roof with a growl, grimacing at the reminder of how long it had taken to get those webs off his suit. “Yeah, don’t do that shit again. Seriously, I can and will end you.”

“Get in line behind half the city, Deadpool.”

Remus scoffed, something he apparently did a lot of whenever talking to Spiderman, and followed him across the rooftop. “Man, your ratings are shit. At least I don't act like a hero.”

It was hard to see, barely noticeable, but Remus saw Spidey’s shoulders tense, just a bit. Apparently he’d struck a nerve. Good.

“I don’t act like anything,” he said, and it was just a little less cocky than before. “I’m just trying to help people.”

“Oh, so you’re playing hero.” Remus grinned, moving until he was crouched right in front of the vigilante. “Ooh ooh, let me guess...you’re in college. You’re ...22. Maybe 23, or 24. You got these big bad powers one day and figured you were the only one in the whole wide world who could protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves.”

Spidey didn’t answer, just looked at him with that blank, unamused stare, so Remus continued. “Or were you born with them? Doesn’t seem like it, you’ve only popped up in the last two or three years—”

“It’s none of your business,” Spiderman cut in, and Remus smirked. “And you’re wrong, for the record.”

“Oh I am, am I?” Remus asked, amused despite himself. “If nobody wants you, why are you even trying?”

Spidey was tense now, and doing a real bad job of hiding it. “Maybe I don’t give a shit what people think.”

“Right.” Remus didn’t need to see the guy’s face to know that wasn’t it. “You do realize how much money you could make with those powers, right?”

“I don’t care,” he said. “I’m fine doing what I’m doing.”

Remus looked him over, he’d seen spidey all over newspapers and on TV before, but this was the first time actually talking to him in person, besides the other day when the asshole had ruined his afternoon. Honestly, it was kinda underwhelming. He expected the suit to be higher tech, at least.

“Are you broke?” he asked. “You seem broke. I could make you a way better mask, by the way. It looks like shit.”

“I’m sure,” Spidey said, completely ignoring his generous offer. Rude. “And how much do you get paid for killing people?”

“A lot.”

Spiderman hummed nonchalantly, no longer looking at Remus. “Well, I’m glad it’s worth it.”

“It is! I sleep like a baby in my king sized bed.” And yeah, that was a little bit of a lie. Barely.. He wasn’t living that luxuriously, New York was expensive as shit, but based on his tech he was way better off than Webs.

“That’s wonderful,” Spiderman said and damn, apparently the masked menace was capable of being a sarcastic bastard as well as a cocky asshole. “You done pretending now? Can I go?”

“I’m not pretending anything.”

“Yeah, ok.” Spiderman was back to sounding arrogant, and Remus couldn’t remember why they were talking instead of fighting to the death. “I know you sleep like shit.”

Remus actually laughed, humorless and cold, because what the fuck?

“Oh yeah?”

“Nobody kills for a living if their life is going great,” Spidey said. “What horrible trauma pushed you to that decision?”

Oh, this motherfucker. This piece of shit. He was so dead when Remus could catch him off guard.

“Nobody puts on a costume and fights crime when half the city wants him dead if his life is going great, either.” Remus smirked, moving to try to get Spidey to look at him again. “At least I get money for it. No student loan debt at 26 is pretty nice.”

He probably shouldn’t have given the vigilante that was quickly turning into his sworn enemy his age but eh. What was he gonna do, kill him? Remus didn’t stay dead.

“That’s great,” Spiderman said. “And all it cost was people’s lives.”

“Yep!” Remus hoped it came out cheery enough to piss him off a little more. “Think of it this way, Spidey. They’re gonna die anyway.”

Spiderman immediately straightened up and stalked to the other end of the rooftop, clearly wanting the conversation to end. Mission accomplished. “Jesus Christ.”

“It’s true!” he called, just to drive home the fuck off a bit more. “Someone would have gotten to them eventually.”

“They’re still people, Deadpool.”

Remus shrugged. “Good people don't get hits put on them.”

“Maybe not,” the vigilante agreed. “But good people don’t murder in exchange for money, either.”

Remus barked another laugh at that, more genuine this time because... yeah? Duh. “No shit. I never fucking said I was a good person.”

“You’re lucky you haven't killed anyone innocent yet.” And goddammit there was that ‘hero’ shit again that made Remus want to throw up. He’d just been starting to have fun, too.

“It’s still not your business.”

“It will be,” Spidey said, perched on the ledge in a way that would make Remus dizzy if he cared. “Stick to killing criminals and we'll be fine.”

“Oh?” Remus followed, smirking in a way that would probably get him punched if he took off his mask. “Are you gonna come get me if I’m not good?”

“That’s my job.”

“Aw, don’t worry,” Remus teased. “I’ll wear something sexy for you.”

“Gross.”

“Love you too, Spider Babe!”

Spidey scoffed, responding with a gloved middle finger when Remus winked. Remus watched a web shoot from his wrist, and suddenly Spiderman was gone, swinging across New York rooftops, leaving Remus to try to figure out how he was getting down.

Remus honestly hadn’t expected to see him again. He was fucked in the head, but he didn’t have any plans to lose control and start killing everyone in sight. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t a villain Spiderman needed to spend time tracking down. New York was busy enough for both of them already.

He did plan on chucking the nearest heavy object at him if he ever saw Spidey swinging past. That never ended up happening. Not that he cared. He didn’t miss him.

He expected to catch a glimpse of him eventually, maybe close enough to yell a few lighthearted threats or call him names, but nothing as entertaining as the argument on the roof.

What he hadn’t expected, was to run right into the masked menace while walking home in the middle of the night.

Remus had just finished a job, something standard and quick, and after wiping the blood from his blades he’d decided to take the long way home. The sun had set, the night air was crisp and relaxing, and it helped Remus forget about the blood stains he needed to wash away.

He’d been cutting through sidestreets, mentally mapping out how to get back to his place. He turned a corner into an alleyway, and—

And there was Spiderman, hunched over himself and leaned against the wall like he’d been using it for support, shaking, gasping, and completely drenched in deep red blood.

Remus froze, and Spidey did too as soon as he registered Deadpool standing just a few paces away, the two of them staring silently for what felt like an eternity.

“Dude,” Remus said when he found his voice. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Spiderman was clutching at his chest, black and purple suit barely able to hide the red stains, leaned heavily against the brick wall as he watched Remus warily. “Nothing.”

“Don’t be stupid. Whose blood is that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he snapped, and his voice was wavering. “Keep walking.”

Remus took a step forward, frowning at the way the vigilante went tense against the wall. He ignored it. “Whose blood is it?” It came out more of a command than a question this time.

“Mostly mine,” Spiderman said, and Remus could see it pooling around his gloves now that he was closer. “It’s fine.”

“Why’re you bleeding?”

“None of your business. Go home.”

Remus tried to get a better look from where he stood, well aware that approaching might not be the best idea right now. “Was it a gun or a knife?”

“It was none of your business and you need to go away.”

Remus watched him, incredulous, because the idiot was barely standing and losing way too much blood way too quickly, and he was pretty sure Spiderman didn’t have Remus’s whole immortality deal.

“You really want to bleed out on the street like some street thug?”

The vigilante hesitated, and Remus listened to the way his breathing was turning into awful sounding wheezes. “I’m...not going to bleed out. I’m fine.”

“Oh, yeah?” Remus challenged, probably a bit more aggressively than was needed for someone who looked like they were about to keel over. “Walk over to me then.”

He’d expected the lack of response, but even though the eyes built into the suit were practically lifeless (he really should get him some more advanced goggles. He’d be a lot more approachable if his eyes weren’t so blank) Remus could still see his whole body tense in fear.

“No,” he said, low and trembling. “Fuck off.”

“Spidey, this isn’t a joke.” Jesus, that was a lot of blood. “You’re gonna bleed out.”

“And you can throw a party—”

“Fucking come here.” He hadn’t meant to snap, but he wasn’t going to just stand here bickering with the city’s hero until he dropped dead. But Spidey still shook his head, pressed even further against the wall now, and Remus sighed. “Fine.”

Remus took a few steps forward, initially planning on prying his arms away to get a better look at the wound, but Spiderman flinched back, trying to scramble away like Remus was coming at him with a weapon.

Well, Remus supposed that made sense. He had threatened to kill him a couple times last time they spoke.

“Chill it, Spidey.” Remus crouched a bit, suddenly painfully aware of how much taller he was, carefully holding his hands out. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you,” he shot back. Which...yeah, fair. “I know you want to.”

“Does it look like I have a knife in my hand?” Remus asked. “No. Chill out and let me see.”

Spidey didn’t pull away when Remus took his shoulders, but he did flinch as soon as Deadpool touched him, probably involuntarily. Remus ignored it, focusing instead on figuring out where the blood was coming from. It was almost impossible in the dark lighting, especially up against the black suit.

“It’s...not that bad,” Spiderman rasped. “Seriously.”

Remus wasn’t buying that for a second. “What happened?”

“I was stupid, that’s what happened,” Spidey said, arms still wrapped firmly around himself. “It...there were five of them and one of them got lucky with a knife.”

“Jesus, fuck.” Remus pulled back, trying to figure out what to do. “You are stupid. Where?”

He only hesitated a moment. “Uh, my chest. I heal fast.”

“Jesus. How fast?”

Spiderman shrugged, then obviously regretted it when it pulled at the stab wound. “Hopefully fast enough,” he said. “I’ll be fine tomorrow or I’ll be dead.”

“Jesus,” Remus said again, because what the fuck else was he supposed to say? “Sit down. Jesus Christ.”

Spidey thankfully did as he said, though Remus suspected it had more to do with the fact that he couldn’t keep himself standing anymore rather than actually following instructions.

He wasn’t fighting anymore, almost limp as Remus took his wrists and moved them to his sides, but he did look like he was ready to bolt the second Deadpool made one wrong move.

Like he wouldn’t fall right on his face and hurt himself worse if he tried.

Remus could see the source of the blood now, a deep gash across his upper chest that had apparently sliced the black and purple suit like butter, still gushing crimson with each passing second.

Shit.

“Alright, uh.” This wasn’t his expertise in the slightest. Other than digging out some bullets, Remus didn't have to tend to his wounds. “I don’t think I have any fabric or...oh, your hoodie. Hand it over.”

Spiderman stared, and if he didn’t hurry up and get with the program Remus was going to knock him out and handle this himself. “Why?”

“Because you’re bleeding out. Give it.”

Spidey at least had the sense to listen and carefully peel the hoodie away from his suit, sliding it down his arms even as his gloved hands shook violently. Remus couldn’t help but wince at the noise Spiderman tried to choke back, because that had to hurt like a bitch.

“Maybe, like...lay down?” Remus suggested. “Yeah, do that. It’ll help.”

Spidey still hesitated, even as the blood continued to flow and he started to slide down against his will. “I...need to see what you’re doing.”

Remus sighed, bunching up the hoodie and pressing it firmly against the wound, ignoring the strangled gasp that came from the vigilante. Blood was quickly soaking through the cloth, and Remus just pressed harder.

“I’m just putting pressure on it to stop the bleeding,” Remus said. “If I wanted to kill you I’d leave you here. If it stops bleeding you’ll heal, right?”

The only answer he got was another wet, trembling gasp when Remus pushed harder, Spiderman’s blood soaking into his gloves. It took a second for him to realize he was grasping at Remus’s wrists, his hold weak.

“H-hopefully,” Spidey managed, and he really didn’t sound great. His eyes were drooping, and Remus figured the biggest danger right now was letting him fall asleep. “Or, you know. I’ll die.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Remus said without thinking. “I’m gonna stop the bleeding, you’re gonna heal with whatever weird powers you have, and then you’ll be less of a careless idiot next time.”

A few moments passed without an answer, and for once Remus wasn’t entirely sure how to fill the silence. The only sound between them was Spiderman’s labored, ragged breathing, which at least sounded a bit less shaky and faint as Remus continued to press down.

“What are you doing?” Spidey asked eventually, catching Remus completely off guard with the stupid question. “Why are you...trying to help?”

Remus wasn’t trying to do anything. He was helping. The city’s beloved hero would have been dead five minutes ago if he hadn’t managed to interrupt Remus’s perfectly nice, peaceful walk.

He hadn’t even really thought about it. Remus was an asshole, a murderer for a living, but he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t the guy who was going to leave New York’s savior to bleed out in an alleyway.

Besides, he’d been the first person Remus had been able to have a somewhat entertaining conversation with in months.

“Somebody’s gotta save everyone,” he eventually settled on, still pressing hard against the wound. “And I refuse to be the city’s only mouthy vigilante.”

Another beat of silence, and for a moment Remus thought he might have fallen asleep. “I don’t...save anyone. And I’m not mouthy.”

“You do,” Remus argued. “And you are.”

“I don’t,” he snapped, and at least he didn’t seem inclined to argue about the mouthy thing. “You do your job better than I do.”

Remus took a moment to look over the bleeding hero. He was weak and trembling, and probably dangerously pale and clammy under that suit. The blood flow had definitely slowed, but it hadn't stopped. There was a good chance he wouldn’t remember a damn thing Remus said to him tonight.

And if he did, it’s not like he really gave a shit, anyway.

“I’m a mercenary,” Remus said. “Anyone can kill someone. It takes something a lot stronger to save them. So shut up and stop being self deprecating.”

Spiderman shuddered when Remus carefully peeled back the bloody hoodie, leaning in to get a better look at where they were at. Either he was just that good at fixing stab wounds, or Spidey’s healing powers were gradually starting to kick in.

Remus decided to go with the former. He deserved it.

“I got someone killed tonight,” Spidey said, quiet and unbearably sad. “She...she died because I wasn’t fast enough, and I didn’t—”

“You can’t save everyone.”

The vigilante pulled his hands away from Remus’s wrists, like he’d just realized he was holding them. “I should have tried harder.”

Remus sighed. “You tried hard enough. You did fine.”

That was apparently the end of the conversation, Spiderman falling back into silence as Remus went back to making sure he didn’t start bleeding all over the place again. He didn’t have anything on him to properly clean it up, he wasn’t sure he even owned a first-aid kit, but Spidey’s breathing was starting to even out, and after about ten minutes or so the blood stopped flowing completely.

“You, uh...you good?”

“I’ll be fine,” Spiderman said, and it didn’t sound like a desperate lie this time. He still looked like shit, but he was able to slowly sit up on his own. “Not dying this time. Just...still hurts.”

They were plunged back into silence, slightly less tense than before but no less uncomfortable. Remus eventually relinquished his hold on the hoodie when Spidey was able to carefully take it from him.

Right, he was fine now. Remus didn’t need to stay, it wasn’t his business anymore. It hadn’t been his business to begin with.

“I...owe you,” Spiderman said, almost like it was strange for him to admit. “So, thank y—”

“Don’t thank me, Spidey.” God, this had been a mistake, hadn’t it? “Seriously. Just buy me a pizza sometime and we’ll call it square.”

Spiderman stared for second, unsteady hands holding his own hood to his chest, but the small laugh that escaped at least sounded genuine, and no longer quite so pained.

“Ok,” he said. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Remus hesitated before standing, not really sure if it would be more rude to leave or stay at this point. Spiderman probably didn’t want a mercenary for hire standing over him while he was wounded, whether Remus had saved his life or not.

Remus was still just as far from a hero as the villains Spiderman fought, and both of them had a reputation to keep.

“You sure you’re ok?” Remus asked. “I can like...stay. Or call you an ambulance or...something.”

“I’m good,” Spidey said, sitting up with a small hiss of pain until he was propped up against the wall, breathing still heavy. “You stopped the bleeding, I’ll live. You can go home, Deadpool.”

“Right.” He carefully stepped around the vigilante, still keeping a close eye on his chest to make sure the bleeding didn’t start again. “Just don’t die after all my hard work. My gloves are fucking soaked.”

Spiderman scoffed, but it was more good natured and light than it had been the last time they talked. “You got it.”

Remus kept walking down the alley, only turning around once more before turning the corner at the end. “And don’t forget my pizza, Spidey!”