#regardless GET HIS ASS MR GRUMPY!!!

[doobledabbadoo]

fanart i did of mr grumpy suplexing mr tickle to the ground. fucking obliterated

[slasheru]

Each romanceable (and archibald) is given a dog or cat (depending on their preference). What are they naming the creature

SAWYER: Something like, weirdly dignified. Wilbur?? Orville?? Hamish?? Sawyer's pet DEFINITELY has a human name. .....Not in that way.

LAILA: The most Cat Fancy ass name you have EVER HEARD. Mr. Wobbles. Dr. Fluffernut. Professor Dingus. Her Majesty the Preen, etc. Lady Mousemurders. Empress Whiskers

HEX: Hex would get SO ANXIOUS over picking the perfect name for the puppy/kitty and would like, try to get it to name itself, as it prefers. (Which it can't, unfortunately, unless you get REALLY lucky. Uh, somehow.) He wouldn't want to project anything on the baby, after all! ....Eventually he ends up naming his dog Buddy and his cat also Buddy.

TATE: Tate is a cat guy if he had to have one, but it'd be like, a stray/loose cat on campus that he'd be repeatedly feeding. He'd give it a secret name, and wouldn't tell anyone. Scratchy?? Francis?? Maybe something horror-related like Wes?? It'd be a secret between him and John Wat-purrs, the Cat

JUNO: Oh god Juno has been waiting for this THEIR ENTIRE LIFE. You're looking at a BONECHURNER REX or a DESTROYER OF WORLDS or a DREAD CTHULU or a CRUSHER, especially if it was the smallest cutest pet in the world. IMPERATOR BONEFLAYER

ARCHIBALD: Oh my god Archibald's cat would be at least as grumpy as he is, but MIGHT be the sweetest little cuddlemonster in the world. No in-between. Its name would be Princess, regardless of gender, and he'd let it eat the scraps from the coffee shop :')

[having-conniptions]

Love In The Air episode 8 live reaction under the cut (long post)

I was gonna watch the new episodes of Link Click and Jujutsu Kaisen but I saw the PrapaiSky preview and I need it RIGHT NYEOW

I can already tell they're gonna be the death of me

Wait this looks familiar... timeskip back to the race Rain and Sky snuck into?

Yup, definitely. The dude with the half-jorts is there lmao

I am SO ready to watch everything play out from Sky's and/or Prapai's perspective

And THAT'S when Prapai spots Sky. Bruh if I were Sky I'd have melted right then and there with Prapai smiling like that

He immediately has a soft spot for Sky huh

"He's my boy" not yet baby

He's lecturing Sky but he also saved his ass

Sky's annoyed face when Prapai tries to touch his face WE LOVE A STRONG BITCH

Oh that is NOT how a relationship should start PRAPAI I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU DON'T PULL THIS SHIT

I mean at least Sky told him to take what he wanted

And honestly Sky is really going for it so I guess it's not that bad but it's still some weird power dynamic / blackmailing shit soooo... eh

OH WOW

Lmao at the same time Phayu is lecturing Rain until Rain kisses him - idk if I love getting a recap of the whole first half of the series but I guess it helps put the PrapaiSky scenes in a chronological context while also slowing down the pacing so it's not all over in 2 episodes

Ok Sky is mad and I am confused bc how much of what happened did he actually want? He seemed rather enthusiastic but when Pai went for a second round Sky looked rather grumpy but told him to "bring it on" regardless? Very very dubious consent and Sky feeling used afterwards...

"Single life is the best. I can sleep with whoever I want" oh Mr. Braces over here is a player huh? How old is this kid??? Lmao

Poor Sky he deserves to be loved, not used

Aaaaa the montage of PrapaiSky thinking about each other / trying to forget

IT'S BEEN THREE MONTHS

THAT'S A WHOLE QUARTER OF A YEAR THAT'S A WHOLE ASS SEASON

Hehehehe Prapai is such a player... but he can't go through with it because he can't get Sky out of his head, classic

3 months later Prapai is still replaying that night in his head huh... (riding his bike while thinking about Sky riding him)

Lmao Sky is reading Demon Slayer (I already spotted the figurine in his room a while ago)

Hahahaha the little reference to the source material of the series

"I don't know who you are. But if you're trying to annoy me, I'm hanging up." I LOVE HIS SASS

"In case you didn't know, humans are warm-blooded. And I'm a human. It's normal for my body to be hot. You don't have to help me, cause I don't associate with cold-blooded animals. Farewell." I SWEAR HE HAS THE BEST LINES LMAO

HE'S SO SASSY ICONIC SAVAGE HE'S THAT BITCH

Prapai is just being a bit of a creep rn

The way Sky just yeets his phone

Lmao Pai is already so whipped

Wtf is that chicken dance

"You've met P'Pai, haven't you?" awkward......

Hahaha Sky putting the pieces together "Wind... Prapai."

ALSO I JUST REALIZED I FIGURED OUT THEY HOOKED UP AND THEN DIDN'T SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN (before we actually saw what happened) I CONNECTED THE DOTS CALL ME SHERLOCK HOLMES

Sky needs a ride, HOW CONVENIENT

"Rain doesn't know about us, does he?" THERE IS NO "US" YOU GUYS HOOKED UP ONCE THAT'S NOT "US"

I love that Sky is standing his ground

Pai you're being cringe

So the reason why Sky rejects Prapai is because he doesn't believe Pai is actually interested in him beyond sex and thinks he's just gonna use him 😭 awwww baby nooo you're amazing and that's why he will fall in love with you and give you the world 😭❤️

SKY IS SUCH A SAVAGE I LOVE HIM

Ok sunflowers are cool I'd be thrilled to get a whole bouquet of them

Oh he's calling him! Oh he has him saved as psycho... 💀

He's hesitating to throw away the flowers!!

Bonus scene: "sometimes sexy. Occasionally sad. Mysterious at times." That's how he sees Sky huh xD

[mae-gi-writes]

OUTSIDE BOUNDARIES || VERNON CHWE (part one)

what happens when ball of sunshine meets Mr. Grumpy? When you make the sacrificial decision of shadowing Dr. Hanson Chwe to scramble for your TA hours, nothing could’ve prepared you for the way in which this grumpy ass charms his way into your heart.

Genre: romcom, university au! Student! Reader x professor! Vernon, svt members…

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE

—————-

He always looked so darn sullen.

With those dark locks falling across his face and those intense orbs hidden behind steel-framed glasses, Dr. Chwe was the subject of pride of the Psychology Department. He was the best professor by far, a lecturer that gave his facts outright, and was never one to be found mingling among his peers. Cold. Tough. Dark. Those were the adjectives coined to his name.

But you were desperate.

You waited till his final class ended. It was late evening and it was icy cold, gusts of wind slamming against the building walls with such force you could feel it rattle, even through cement. As the students walked out and the chatter dispersed across the corridors, you quickly slid inside the lecture hall only to find him by the podium.

This hall was specially designed for lectures, rows and rows of seats that ressembled a theatre room and a stage for the professor, with a screen to project any slides of particular interest.

"Hello," you called tentatively, trying to get into his field of vision. He paused in his paper rustling, looking up with a frown.

You continued regardless, shuffling forward so that you could get a closer look at him, "Hi, sorry to disturb. Dr. Chwe? I'm Y/N, a graduate from the music department."

"Yes, and?"

"I'm looking for a TA job with you--"

"No."

"Wha--" you blink up at him, "I haven't even given you any argument yet."

"Why is a music major asking for a TA position in my department?"

"Well Dr. Hong told me to ask you specifically, to help me out this one time because music and psychology are interrelated. And plus, I'm working on my master thesis and it has to do with their relationship--"

"Irrelevant. Find a professor from your own department," with that, he closed his folder of testpapers and made a move to walk out. You quickly stepped before him, chin high and trying hard not to tremble in front of his tall frame. He was slim, and yet he looked like he could crush you with one single glance.

"Wait. Please," you held up your hands as if in surrender, trying to ignore the way his scowl deepened, "please. I really really need this opportunity. Like, I don't even need you to read my research, just please make me your TA and I promise I'll--"

"Even if I could, I can't. We're not in the same department."

"We're in Bachelor of Arts both, that's good enough right? Right?" You wondered whether begging on your knees would convince him, "I swear I'll be good. Ask Dr. Hong, he's the one who recommended you. Said you could help me."

"He...said that?" Dr. Chwe looked suspicious, eyes narrowed and stance cold.

"Yes! You can ask him. I can call him right now--"

He stopped you, palm held in the air and a grim expression clouding his features, "I will talk to him."

"But I--"

He didn't wait, pushed past you with his stack of papers and ignored your protests that kept following him out in the corridor until the door closed right in your face.

Well, so much for an attempt to find a reliable spot in academia. You were so fucked.

----

If there was one thing you had learnt from this whole encounter, it was that Dr. Chwe did not like being disturbed when it wasn’t class time. Oh, he was helpful to his students alright…until the lesson was over. Then the beast took over, devoiding him of human emotion and contributing to the bastard-y tag that he received amongst gossipers.

Nevertheless, he was a popular Professor at the University of BurnBridges and you couldn’t deny his talent. He had a way of dealing with people — not surprising, considering that he was a psychology professor — that made you feel like you had both the responsibility of the knowledge shared and that you were an active participant in this fostering of information. He understood you more than you could understand yourself, which came from his countless observations as he walked around the campus perimeter.

(Not that you’d know. You did not stalk him throughout the day just to see what his routine was like. You did not wish for him to seek our Dr. Hong out of his own will. Not at all.)

A week passed with nothing on the radar. You probed Dr. Hong in hopes that he’d help you out. He was the beloved maniac of the Music and Theatre Department, as crazy and as gentle as he was. If Dr. Chwe was a big, sulky wolf then Dr. Hong was the lovely puppy abandoned on the corner of the street. Everyone loved him.

“I tried, Professor, I really did,” you kept on whining every day after class, “but it’s been a full week and he hasn’t responded yet.”

Dr. Hong just laughed, “he’s probably busy with corrections. It is mid-term season after all. If I ever bump into him I’ll tell him to re-consider your offer.”

“Tell him that it doesn’t have to be legal or on paper,” you were desperate for him to hear you out, for if you didn’t have a position by the end of this week, you were considered dead meat, “I just need my TA hours filled and he can show me how to grade his papers—“

“Do you even know a thing about Psychology?”

A voice cut through your conversation as cold as ice and you whip round, only to find none other than the said person in question standing by the door and looking as annoyed as ever.

You briefly wondered how he would look like without the scowl. Probably ten times more handsome.

“I—Yes of course I do! I minored in Psych! That’s why I’m asking you whether you— well, I’m sure I’ll be able to help you in some way,” you stuttered out before you lost the courage, inwardly wincing at how the words made it out of your mouth. Wow. So not cool Y/N.

“Y/N’s been in my class since first year,” Dr. Hong prompts, “and she hasn’t yet disappointed me. So I’d say she’s a firm package.”

Dr. Chwe looked like he was ready to chew his colleague’s head off for supporting you and yet, the latter didn’t seem fazed in the slightest, “come on, Vern. You need a TA anyway—“

“I do not need a TA.”

“Surely you do. Every professor has one. It wouldn’t make sense for you to grade all those papers, and who’s going to hold your seminars for you?”

“I already have someone doing that for me.”

“Nakamura’s only doing it because she fancies you,” Dr. Hong rolled his eyes playfully, “come on Vern. If ever you have any trouble, you can come straight to me.”

Dr. Chwe’ s gaze flitted from your face to Dr. Hong’s, the scowl deepening with every second like a storm slowly rolling in and shadowing his features. It was a surprising duo that boggled you, the sunshine puppy Dr. Hong and the moody Dr. Chwe together in one room, looking like the best of friends.

But that soon went out of your brain the moment Dr. Chwe sighed, turned around and started walking out of the room. You scrambled up after him, “wait Professor, I—“

“Be in my office on Monday. 8am. Don’t be late.”

He spat them out like venom before the door slammed shut, leaving you with Dr. Hong in a mixture of confusion and excitement.

Slowly, you turned towards your professor, “Did he just…” trailing off without knowing what to say next, you saw Dr. Hong burst out laughing.

“That’s it, Y/N. You’re in.”

You were in. You still had a chance to make it through.

———

Dr. Chwe scared the shit out of you.

He didn't hesitate to bite your head off at every mistake, every chance he got. He loved taunting you, seeing you struggle to cope with the material prepared, loved dumping testpapers in your arms for you to correct till early morning hours. He especially enjoyed asking you questions in the middle of his lectures so that you'd have to scramble for a response on the spot, blush littering your cheeks and fingers fumbling.

You knew it wasn't fair, but you also knew that it was an opportunity that wasn't supposed to be yours in the first place. You had just gotten lucky because the psychology department wad one TA short and really needed the help.

Still, seeing Dr. Chwe every day traumatised you to no end.

"He looks like he can kill me. I can't even talk when I'm around him," you kept on complaining to your buddy Minghao. He, also part of the music department, had the luck of getting the famous Dr. Woozi, composer, pianist and singer. God knew what strings he'd pulled for that.

"At least he's hot," Minghao commented.

"Yeah well, I don't think that comes in handy."

"I think you should bribe him with food."

You shot him a look, "that's a terrible idea."

You decided to test out Minghao's theory by bringing him a coffee during your next TA meeting. Something small, yet significant and helpful. Everyone loved a bit of caffeine, right?

"Here you go, and extra shot of espresso just for you," you set it down with a flourish and fought hard to keep yourself from smiling, expression faltering whrn Dr. Chwe looked up at you as though you had just placed a dead corpse on his desk.

"What?" You tried to lighten the mood, "I thought coffee would cheer you up, considering you look like only had one hour of sleep."

"I had three, thanks for asking."

"Oh I wasn't, but please," you motioned towards the said cup, "go ahead."

"I...don't drink coffee."

"No way," you sat down at your desk, grabbing the pile of testpapers that you would have to start grading pronto, "how are you still standing? Energade? Tea?"

He favoured ignorance, proceeding to flick through the department documents. You pressed on, "do you prefer soda? I know some people prefer soda but that's like, really not good for your health. Or maybe-- oh wait, you're a hot chocolate fan aren't you?"

The slight tense of his shoulders was enough to give him away. You couldn't help but stare, "no way," you half-murmured, "you have a sweet tooth, don't you?"

Dr. Chwe turned away from you in determination to stop your sudden onslaught of questions.

"Oh my gosh, you know sugar's really bad for you right? It's worse than caffeine. It converts into fat and gets stored in--"

"I don't think I asked for a biology lesson, miss Y/N," he snapped. His dark orbs flashed to yours over the document papers, shadowed with irritation, "with all due respect, you have papers to grade."

"Oh yes, sorry, yes." You quickly focused your attention on the papers at hand. The atmosphere tightened with unease, a knot of nervousness coiling at the bottom of your stomach as you grabbed your pen and flicked through the pages.

Clesrly, he had no wish to talk and converse about trivial things other than work. It did hurt your pride somewhat. But you tried to brush it aside. You weren't here to entertain him after all.

But during that same week, you left him two chocolate cookies.

No thanks, no receipt of acknowledgement. But when you noticed the empty wrapper in the bin the next day, you stifled a smile.

“I saw someone left you cookies,” you remarked a few hours later when still no acknowledgement had been made, “how generous of them.”

Of course. There was only you and Vernon in this room. No one else had access, so it was easy an easy guess.

He grunted, muttered something incoherent under his breath and proceeded to read the document in his hands. But you weren’t going to let him off so easily this time. Sliding your hand onto his desk and leaning over so that you were in his peripheral vision, you wriggled your eyebrows suggestively, “So? Anything you want to tell me, Dr. Chwe?”

“Get back to work.”

“Aw come on, not even a thank you? I—“

He glanced up. His eyes were cold ice, “last week’s quizzes, are they done yet?”

You paled, “no…”

“I want them on my desk this afternoon.”

IIt was supposed to sting but somehow it didn’t. Not as much as it should’ve. Maybe because you were slowly getting used to his porcupine nature, but the moment you sat at your desk you noticed the small cup of coffee, still steaming hot, right beside your keyboard. The smile on your face widened tenfold, though you kept quiet about it.

Dr. Chwe was — at least to you — not so bad after all.

——-

“Y/N will be distributing the test papers from last week’s quiz. You will go through it with her but before you do, I’d like a quick word,” Dr. Chwe’s gaze flitted from face to face, the class of 20 sleepy students looking back at him through heavy-lidded eyes as he stepped towards the lecture podium.

You were sitting at the side on standby, ready to take over once he’d depart. A few weeks had gone by since your appointment as his TA and things have settled down somewhat. It seemed as though Dr. Chwe’s personal vendetta towards making your life miserable was put on hold, probably because he actually needed you now that midterms were coming up.

You busied yourself by distributing the papers, nodding as they mumbled out ‘thank you’s’ while Dr. Chwe droned on with the explanations. For the most part you didn’t listen, your mind drifting in and out of focus. It had been ages since you had played any instrument whatsoever, and time was an issue when every spare second was wasted on that stupid thesis paper, so who could blame you for thinking of what musical notes would go well together instead of listening to behavioural theory?

“I’ll leave you to Y/N then, if you have no questions for me,” Dr. Chwe nodded at you, snapping you out of your daze. You hurried towards the front, quickly mumbling your goodbyes before taking over, “alright, let’s go through the test paper for any common mistakes. Before we begin, do you guys have any questions?”

It wasn’t until class had ended that one of the students came up to the podium, greeting you shyly behind round spectacle frames.

“Hi, I’m Mingyu.”

“Hey you alright? Anything I can help with?” You look up from your folders and zipping up your pencil case in the process.

“Uhm not really no,” he flashed you a shy smile, “i just wanted to ask you if you were going to be present at the Departmental Olympics this year.”

“Oh, uh—“ you tried wracking your brain for excuses. You didn’t loathe exercise but you were so bad at it you’d rather stay on the sidelines, “I didn’t even know we were having the Olympics this year. When is it?”

“In two weeks. I’m running event for our department, along with a few other psych majors.”

“Ah that sounds great!”

“yes, and uhm—we were wondering if— if you would play,” he stammered over his words, “for the psych department.”

“I’m not really though,” you smiled in what seemed to be an apology, “I doubt they’d allow that.”

“They said it was fine, as long as you weren’t playing for the music dept,” he put his hands together, looked at you with those melting doe eyes that he knew worked on everyone, “please?”

“I—“ “There’s free food,” he persisted, “and you get a free coupon for a drink at the after-party.”

in the end, you had no choice but to say yes. He had, after all, the powers of someone who couldn’t be argued with. Not to forget his dashing looks. It was hard sometimes, good-looking people had their way too easily and you cursed yourself the moment he’d exited the room with a victorious grin.

You asked Dr. Chwe if he was going to be present, which resulted in him scoffing at you like you were a complete idiot.

“That’s just a waste of time,” he said, “I have better things to do.”

“Well, maybe you can take a break from all those things that you need to do,” you hid your grin from behind the coffee cup you were sipping on.

He scowled at his computer screen, “and what? Socialize with people I don’t give a shit about?”

“Would you rather rot here with your test papers?” You looked over at him, “come on Dr. Chwe. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the break. Plus, sports can be fun.”

“No thanks.”

“Or are you such a sore loser that you can’t participate just for fun?”

His eyes narrowed into slits, jaw tensed, “I am not a sore loser.”

“Oh yeah?” You tilted your head with a smirk, “feels like it though.”

That was enough to make him sign up the next day.

You almost spilled you entire cup of coffee down your shirt when he told you through a mumble jumble of words behind his computer screen and if you didn’t know any better, you would say that he was…embarrassed about it.

“So what changed your mind huh?” You asked, laughter falling from your lips despite the glare he was sending your way every five seconds. He looked like a grumpy cat, “did you decide it was worth a try?”

“Shut up.”

You cracked up, “you are such a sore loser, Dr. Chwe.”

“I said shut it,” his head snapped up from his computer screen, “and it’s Vernon, not Dr. Chwe.”

Vernon. It was weird to hear his name— his actual name — roll out from his own mouth. You weren’t used to being so chummy with the professors when you were still a graduate student yourself. But ever since you’d gotten to work with him, you had to admit that you’d gotten comfortable in his presence. He was like that sour colleague that found everything so revolting that it made up for your lack of entertainment. In short, Vernon was fun to be around most of the time, when you got used to him. Because he never meant anything that came out of his mouth.

No. You were certain that behind that permanent grimace was a young man with a good heart.

“So what sport did you sign up for?” You leaned over your desk and placed your chin into your hands.

Dr. Chwe— Vernon — glanced up at you, dark strands falling across his eyes that he brushed away impatiently, “volleyball.”

“Wait really?!” You couldn’t hold in your excitement, “I signed up for volleyball too! I’m in team red.”

“Team blue.”

“Oh pffft,” you rolled your eyes, “you suck, Dr. Chwe—“

“Vernon.”

“Yeah yeah, so I guess I’ll see you across the field.”

“Don’t come crying to me when you lose.”

“Oh we’ll see about that,” you grinned and tried, in vain, to stop the small bubble of fluttery feelings seemingly blooming in the middle of your chest.

———

A/N: Part 2 will be up soon! <3 enjoy for now! I have never seen a Vernon fic where he is not a shy boi so I really wanted to try this side of him out. Not sure i was successful but mehhhh ._.

[gorogues]

Spoilers for this week’s episode of Stargirl!

Things are moving forward, the JSA is sort of breaking apart due to secrets, and Sylvester has good advice for once. Beth copies the info from Gambler's laptop and Yolanda goes to put it back, only to meet up with Cindy while burgling her home. They fight, Rick joins in, and Courtney breaks it up, but now everyone knows Cindy took the laptop and is becoming reptilian. Cindy denies killing the Gambler, and says she just wanted to find any info on it about what's happening to her and where her father's other labs are. Clearly she should have been honest a while ago, but she lashes back with Courtney's secret about helping Cameron with his powers. Now everyone's upset with Courtney about 'training a new Icicle' (as they see it), and Courtney's put Sylvester in charge of the JSA.

Sylvester then offers Courtney some good advice and supports her decision to help Cameron, which is…oddly reasonable of him. He might have an ulterior motive, but at least he's not being a jerk for once. It's also nice to get a little bit of info about his sister Merry's relationship with Brainwave; I never have seen a particularly good explanation for it in the comics (she's still alive there). Hank is my favourite member of Infinity Inc so I've always been grumpy about him being an ass and getting killed off so early in the show, but at least someone remembered him.

Beth discovers that they're all being watched through multiple video feeds, and tells Courtney and Pat in a way that hopefully doesn't alert the guy watching them. It appears to be Mr Bones, not Kritter, but that does confirm it's Helix. Bones likes doing skull puzzles and has a bit of a breathing problem -- maybe from all his infamous cigarettes, but I don't know if smoking is really allowed on CW shows in light of all those cringe anti-smoking ads we saw last season. Maybe it's okay if he's a villain and they emphasize how unhealthy it is? Regardless, it's probably Bones and a few people know about the secret video feeds now.

Pat and Barbara go to talk to Cameron's grandparents about their kids' relationship, because they're aware something's sketchy about the old folks. Sofus (Grandpa) seems more sympathetic and didn't poison their lutefisk, while Lily (Grandma) is more hardassed and all about poisoning. So maybe Sofus will be something of an ally or at least less of an aggressor, although maybe he won't be when the situation gets more intense.

And Rick finds that removing the limiter does indeed work, and he's potentially got super-strength 24/7. As I said last week, this will undoubtedly blow up in his face somehow, and the question is how it will happen and how long it'll take. The hourglass is clearly different from the comics' Miraclo pills, but Miraclo had a lot of effects on Rex's and Rick's mental states, particularly when abused. I don't think this'll do any favours for Rick's temper or mood, and of course he can do a lot of damage with that kind of strength.

So it's good to see progression on the video feed/Helix plot, though sad that everyone's tearing each other apart over secrets. And obviously the pressure is building regarding Cameron, his powers, and his relationship with Courtney. It's tough to say who will ally with who when things go from bad to worse, but clearly people will have to choose sides.

[livebloggingmydescentintomadness]

(1) so... imma be honest here... i have been in this fandom for quite a while and have tried to avoid cockles stuff due to rpf and thinking it was all tinhat theories (im SORRY). But for some reason,, , i have seen more and more cockles on my dash and it got me going down the rabbit hole of theories and such. Now, there is still a part of me that is still pretty skeptical but im open minded. Before i make up my mind about something I would like to collect data and make conclusions for myself.

(2) SO with that being said, here are my questions: what was the thing that solidified cockles, in your mind, as real? What makes their relationship different from every other person on this show (like jared for example)? What pieces of evidence, in your mind, is indisputable (i.e something that i or anyone else cant convince you that cockles is Not real)?

(3) Do you have any doubts? Can you give me a timeline of cockles? All these years and no one has said anything? now, i know thats not unusual (im in a fandom where 2 guys have been in a relationship for 11 years and people (besides the core-fans) didnt know until last year), but has there been any slip-ups and/or instances where people went: 🤔👀?

(4 of 4... sorry for the spam lol) And if you can/want to add any more evidence, please do! And of course collaboration is not a requirement, but it would be greatly appreciated! I just love delving deep into these kinds of things 😁💕

a challenge. i accept. 

i’ll address each question in turn, and this got l o n g and gif-heavy, so it’s going under a readmore.

1) what convinced you cockles is real?

the year was 2013, i was new to the spn fandom (and, quite frankly, to unlearning my homophobia, but working on it). i knew that jibcon was a thing and i knew some of the cockles stories from the last few years, but people joke and tinhat about celebrities who joke flirt all the time, right? then i saw this with my own eyes.

now, the grinding is a big part of this, because you just don’t casually do that in the course of trying to reclaim a piece of paper your friend is playing keep-away with. but jensen’s face. mr grumpy tough guy who play-acts all grouchy when jared so much as hugs him onstage. i can think of no other word for that facial expression except delighted. mr grumpy is surprised and thrilled about misha grinding up again his crotch in front of a crowd.

keep in mind that while jensen is a fantastic actor, when he’s not acting, he’s terrible at keeping his genuine emotions off his face. terrible. this is clearly spur of the moment and not an intentional bit.

a few more details: it’s subtle and debatable, but it really rather looks like jensen is very nearly rocking his hips into misha. regardless, he is definitely NOT backing away or trying to get out of the situation at all. next, you can see that misha straight up puts a hand on jensen’s ass, after grabbing onto his waist with a certain propriety and familiarity that reeks of intimacy. and lastly, you can see in the back that misha is making a 😬 face. he knows that he just fucked up.

so i stared at this for, i don’t know, an hour or so, and i could come to literally no other conclusion than that they have some kind of physical relationship. there’s too much familiarity on misha’s part and too much delight on jensen’s part for anything else.

2) what makes their relationship different than anyone else on the show?

you mention jared, and jared is the perfect example. it’s easy to say that misha is joke flirty with lots of people, not just jensen, but this post perfectly compares the difference between misha’s body language with jared and with jensen. it actually contrasts the above grinding incident with a similar incident where jared stole his microphone.

with jared, misha just stands up and walks around trying to get it back. but look at that body language with jensen. 

that little way misha leans away is flirtatious, it just is. it’s giggling and inefficient in a way that shouts “keep chasing me.” then he giggles and grabs at jensen’s hands when jensen snatches the paper, gets a determined attitude to his posture, and goes in to try and get it back, which leads to the grinding. it’s so diffierent. 

here’s another post that analyzes the difference between mishalecki and cockles, and this is the bottom line: every time jared and misha touch in a flirty way, it’s a bit. it’s a joke between buddies. “haha i’m pretending to put my hand on your leg in a sexy way.” 

when jensen and misha touch, the touching isn’t for the bit, the bit is for the touching. they do bits to have an excuse to touch. 

the hitch kiss is a perfect example, because that wasn’t even part of the scene they’re reenacting. jensen’s character is supposed to reluctantly lean in, barely make contact, and misha’s character jolts back. instead misha just goes for it, and jensen happily goes for it with him. (this is after jensen initially didn’t want to do the scene, before misha joined him on stage, and then after misha joined him, he went and picked the script up again and was like “ummm they want us to make out now haha.”)

they’re literally not even supposed to do this, it’s totally improvised, because they created a bit so they had an excuse to pretend kiss. okay, now hold that disguised-touching thought.

jensen’s body language between jared and misha at conventions is like night and day - not that it’s bad with jared, not at all, but they’re bros. they stand/sit shoulder to shoulder facing the crowd, they have a routine well worked out to provide entertainment, they play off each other like people who’ve been best friends for as long as they’ve been best friends. they’re like a steady team who has each other’s backs.

when jensen is on stage with misha? all he cares about is staring at misha, except for when he’s bragging on misha or encouraging misha to do things like strip or do one of his terrible accents because he has a kink. look at how he stares, he downright gazes. and he just does that... all the time, year after year.

he is enamored.

there’s also what we call the unicorn laugh, which is the most... exaggerated, ludicrous full-body SCREAMLAUGH that jensen only does for misha. and most of the time it’s because misha said something... not that particularly funny. maybe not even a joke at all. i get secondhand embarrassment just looking at it.

for comparison, jensen’s reaction to jared’s dumb joke vs misha’s dumb joke.

okay, now we’re going to go through some of the other truly transparent and embarrassing shit jensen does, because he is transparent and embarrassing.

whenever jensen does a cockles or j2m photo op, he performs the Mish Reach, an astonishing maneuver where his arm will stretch as long as is required to touch misha. he will touch misha, you cannot stop him. do not try.

speaking of, he has a Thing for calling misha “mish” and “dmitri” (misha’s legal name) as if he gets off on the intimacy of a nickname (or real name, as the case may be). 

the green eyed monster. for someone so beautiful and you know, everything, jensen seems to get jealous for no good reason with incredibly little prompting. look at this body language. and here, misha and jared were simply chatting, and this baby actually pouts at them.

flirty faces totally count as pranking, right? jensen’s favorite way to make misha break on set was the hit him with this face + “hey big boy”, which is definitely what a prank is and not flirting.

being compelled to support/defend/include misha. this is one of my favorite tiny moments, it’s just adorable. misha is introduced on stage at comic con, jared does a playful “booo! *thumbs down*” and jensen visibly goes “hey, don’t do that! in this house we love and support misha!” to the extent that jared visibly goes “dude what’s your problem?”

once, a fan asked the j2 panel a question that included misha, and this boy said “thank you for your question. i like it when people include misha.” here, he handles a castiel standee so... tenderly. here, he talks misha up to convince him to improvise lyrics to a song. misha had to leave this comic con panel early, and despite him having just left and knowing that he’s driving, jensen tried to facetime misha and then looked so sad when he didn’t pick up. here he tells misha he looks “dapper as always” (he is in jeans, t-shirt, and blazer, c’mon bro). same panel, misha forgets his place in his story and jensen whispers the next part to help. also same panel, jared roasts misha, jensen just has to Be Supportive.

how he can’t help but talk about misha all the time. even when misha isn’t there or the topic has nothing to do with misha, jensen loves to talk about him. jensen often jokes about his terrible memory (like how he doesn’t remember which season dean went to hell), but he tells the story of how he met misha over and over, and the story of the first time they went to dinner together. and he gushes. here he gushes about how excited misha was about scoobynatural. another time, he lost it because he met someone with a dachsund named misha, and he HAD to wait and tell misha in person because he HAD to see his face, and despite misha just making a “ah, great” expression, jensen said it was so worth the wait. here he gushes about misha in some dvd extras. look at this smile and gulp.

okay, this post is already out of control and we’re not remotely done, but the only way out is through, so onward. 

since we’re ostensibly on the topic of body language, we’re going to circle back and cover unnecessary touching, disguised touching, and blush-inducing intimate touching. consider this, the most tender but filthy hand fondling i’ve ever seen, disguised as both resting their hands on a fan’s shoulder. there is zero platonic explanation for this. this is hand lovemaking.

(similarly, this is eye lovemaking from across a stage.)  here, early on, jensen tried to be slick and disguise his desire to kiss misha’s cheek by first kissing jim beaver’s cheek. we are not fooled. this is a long post about unnecessary touching, and includes a moment i love but you can’t clearly see what happens. felicia day is dancing at jibcon, and jensen steps up to misha, switches his microphone to his far hand, and wraps his arm around misha’s waist the way you do with your partner.

straight, platonic men do not touch each other like this, and it can’t be a bit, because it’s extremely difficult to even see from the audience. jensen touches misha with a casual, possessive intimacy without it being part of a joke, like the time he was determined to keep his hand on misha’s thigh and this comforting hug + cheek kiss (when misha was crying at a photoshoot celebrating spn’s last season).

he simply doesn’t touch jared like that, not ever. i could keep going, but we can end the answer to ‘how are they different together’ there.

3) what pieces of evidence do you consider indisputable?

the number one thing to me is the body language. i have an intuitive talent for reading body language and facial expressions, and the only word i can use to describe jensen and misha’s body language is intimate. these two people are physically and emotionally intimate. you don’t touch someone with this degree of familiarity and possession unless you’ve had sex. i don’t make the rules, that’s just how it is. 

and we’ve seen now some of jensen’s intimate body language, but we have to talk about the way misha touches jensen’s back. i am asexual, and i would be straight-up uncomfortable if someone touched me like this, because it pings my radar as inherently sexual. this one and this one drive me utterly feral.

this is a compilation of how they stand so close to whisper. they also love to lean their heads on each other’s shoulders. this one in particular is incredible not just for jensen dropping his head, but the soft expression on misha’s face and how he tips his head to the side.

next: the boners. it’s weird to talk about a real person’s dick, but the fact remains that jensen has gotten hard-ons onstage because of misha at least 3 times: once when misha reenacted the fake orgasm scene from when harry met sally (which misha so did to turn him on intentionally), another time after that eye lovemaking already mentioned, but most notably after what we refer to as straddlegate, when jensen oh-so-helpfully volunteered to lie down for misha to straddle him (to reenact a scene) and then afterwards adjusted himself, pulled his shirt down, stuck his hand in his pocket, and awkwardly sat down. the man has a problem.

next: the shared/matching jewelry. years ago, misha wore a ring jensen gave him, and bracelets that weren’t identical but very similar, and misha’s had a pendant with an angel figure on one side and “always with you” on the other. photo op pictures caught them wearing the same bracelet that said “believe in you”. then in 2019 misha was seen wearing a ring on his right hand ring finger that jensen was seen wearing the previous year.

next: the anal sex fart joke. i do not actually relish discussing jensen ackles’ asshole, but the man said this and then literally approved it for release. the joke is that misha fucked his butt loose. i’ve had several people tell me that this is a common joke among gay/bi men, and even that yes, the sound jensen made is exactly what it really sounds like. so that happened.

next: the photos they post on twitter, which they obviously choose to share with us on purpose. there was the sunset photo, the family boat trip photo, the chest-to-chest selfie, but the king of them all is the anniversary photo. remember that story of their first dinner together? well, they took a picture that night, and ten years later they tracked down the same bar and the same table ten years later, recreated the photo and posted them for us to see. 

now what i also find indisputable is a whole bunch of Suspicious Shit their friends (mostly jared) have said, but we’re gonna save that for another question.

4) do you have any doubts?

i used to, sometimes, but i don’t anymore. cause really, why is it so hard to believe that two people are queer and polyamorous? especially when one (misha) is openly poly and made very strong hints about being queer. i’m not accusing them of anything immoral or rare, i just think they’re queer and poly and in love. that happens.

5) can you give me a timeline of cockles?

i’m really not good at remember when things happen or in what order, so honestly i’m just not going to force myself to do this one, i’m sorry. but i can give you the “know your cockles history” section of my masterlist, and @destielintheimpala’s cocklesyears tag.

6) all these years and no one has said anything? have there been any slip-ups?

oh hon, please excuse me while i laugh. 

listen, everyone knows. everyone makes jokes about it. do you remember in 10x05 when the two girls playing dean and cas were said to be “a couple in real life”? i have an entire That’s Suspicious section of my masterlist, mostly because jared thinks it’s hilarious and he can’t keep his damn mouth shut. this post is so gif-heavy already that i don’t dare go through each incident, so i’ll have to be very choosy.

one time jared was teasing jen by pretending to be jensen looking at a centerfold of misha, saying, “misha’s been working out!” and at first jensen pretended to look disgusted, but couldn’t help himself in saying, “he has though, hasn’t he?” and the look on jared’s face. 

another time, a fan asks their favorite season, and jared says season 4, the year he met genevieve (the actress who played ruby), jensen says he also liked the season he met jared’s wife, and jared cheekily says “isn’t that the season you met misha?” another time, j2 were told that misha had started a fire in his meet and greet, jensen says “he is pretty hot” and jared just walks away. 

check out these faces when fans asked about pictures of misha and videos of misha. tell me that isn’t sheer panic.

another time, jared put jensen’s arm around misha. memorably, there was the comic con where misha did a funny voice, jensen said “he sounds like that in the morning,” and jared swooped in to say, “how do YOU know?” and proceeded to take his mic out of its stand to drop it. everyone laughs, mark sheppard makes THAT face, jensen blushes, and they both giggle and look a little embarrassed, but like... if it wasn’t true, wouldn’t you be so uncomfortable that your friend just implied to a whole comic con hall that you’re fucking?

so when you ask “all this time and no one has said anything?” - people say things all the time. we all know. they don’t try to hide it. it’s just that heteronormativity is such a drug and straight goggles are so thick that most people can dismiss anything short of literally having sex as “just good friends.” sooo many people claim that it’s just jokes. they can do almost anything and fly under the heteronormative radar.

and since you mentioned slip ups, i have to mention two more things before i lay my weary head to rest. first, what i call the almost kiss, because i really think jensen forgot he was onstage and he tried to go in for a kiss.

and now, for my pièce de résistance... brace yourself.

a clever fan noticed that while multiple people were on stage, misha subtly lifted up his shirt tails to display his crotch and unzipped jeans.

and jensen not only sees it, he damn near swallows his tongue.

if you’re really gonna look at allll this and tell me that these dudes are not husbands... i can’t help you.

there’s more i could discuss, but i’m afraid of hitting link limit, so please go through my masterlist for more.

[myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants]

Pear-cut Diamonds & Forget-me-nots

A/N: I am aggressively late for this collab and I’m very sorry. But here is my piece for the BNHAREM On The Job Collab. Please check out all of the other contributors here! There is a fun fact at the bottom of this post!

**Also! the quote at the end is from famous French poet and writer Antoine de St-Exupéry.

Yuuga, Aoyama x Fem Y/N

Warnings: fluff, lots and lots of fluff

“Good morning mademoiselle, you look ravishing as always.”

You huff out a laugh, not at all phased by the natural flirty tone of your coworker. “It’s 1 o’clock in the afternoon Aoyama, and I know I look like a trash panda so don’t lie to me.” As you set down your things next to your work bench the flamboyant blonde approaches you.

“L/N, I know for a fact that you woke up not an hour ago so good morning, and as for your looks.” He reaches over and tucks an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “Even if you look like a ‘trash panda’ you are a beautiful one.”

Despite the horrible cheesy line, a slight blush dusts your cheeks. “Alright fine. If I’m gonna believe anyone it’s gonna, be you, mister cultivator of beauty.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, despite your obvious sarcasm.” Aoyama tilts his chin up, flicking his shoulder length hair back.

You shake your head at him, a smirk on your face while turning your back to him. As you move around your work shop, setting up the tools you need for the day Aoyama watches you, silently. Always enchanted with the way your movements go fluid and your face softens when concentrated on work. Know better than to linger, he softly bids you good bye before exiting and making his way to the store front.

“One day Y/N. One day you will realize the beauty I see in you.” He sighs forlornly. “For now, I will take pleasure in reminding you.”

You never let Aoyama stay in your workshop while you’re working. Not because you get nervous when people watch, you love showing of your skill; and not because you’re worried about him seeing you get sweaty, you don’t care what you look like when crafting. The reason why you don’t let him stay in your workshop was because the one time you did, he would not. Stop. Talking. No matter how many times you told him you had to concentrate he always had a question to ask. No matter how many times you told him you would answer anything after you were done, he would come back with “but what if I forget a question?”

You were halfway through soldering a custom engagement ring when you finally had to ask him to leave. Your excuse being that if he saw the whole process the end result wouldn’t be as impressive. He simply nodded his head and winked before waltzing off to check on the employees in the front.

Regardless of the perpetually annoyingly peppy attitude of the man, you will forever be grateful for Yuga Aoyama. He gave you a chance to prove your talent before he judged your personality.

Never one to sugar coat or kiss ass; most of your past employers, or anyone who knows you really, describes you as grumpy bordering on rude.

After many lost chances and “you don’t fit with our team” excuses you began to feel like maybe everyone was right about you. Eventually you got tired of living in the states, your reputation following you everywhere; so, you packed up and moved to Japan, having always been drawn to the culture, food, and otherworldly beauty of it. You managed to get yourself employed by a tech manufacturer soldering motherboards and other ugly things that didn’t interest you. You job allowed you to obtain a work visa and have a steady income where your aloof attitude didn’t matter. No one is paying attention to your resting bitch face or unwillingness to converse when they all have their minds on their own intricate work.

Not wanting to give up on your passion for creating jewelry, you managed to save up enough money to buy the tools you had to leave behind and start creating again. You didn’t have a lot of free time, so you were only able to make one piece every couple weeks, normally rings or necklaces. Anything you made was either sold online or at local pawn shops.

It was one of your trips to a pawn shop downtown where you happened to meet Aoyama. He had been looking to buy pieces of jewelry for his private collection when he walked in on your striking a deal with the owner.

“Miss l/n, as impressed as I am by your work the last piece you brought me has not sold and I try my best to not have more than one piece from a seller at a time. It shows favoritism towards a certain person and I do not want to give anyone a disadvantage.”

You heard footsteps behind you and dropped the conversation, not wanting to take the owners time away from paying clients. The ring you had finished polishing just the day before sitting on a blue velvet pillow as you move to the side to give them space you hear a hum. Your eyes flashing over to the person to determine whether it was from annoyance or interest.

You stop breathing for a moment, awestruck by the man in front of you. He had such a strong presence, and honestly, he was quite beautiful. His indigo eyes, his teeth, the tastefully sized blue diamond studs in his ears all glittering. As you were examining him, he was examining your work.

Aoyama had seen plenty beautiful pieces of jewelry, had sold many of them at his parents store. Your work was not the most beautiful he had seen, not to say it wasn’t gorgeous in its own right, but the careful details and craftmanship spoke of a person who put a piece of their soul into everything they crafted.

The ring was sterling silver, polished to a mirror finish. The band flowing from the center stone in two layers, both shaped like tear drops the top layer forged to look like they were falling from the center. The bottom layer reversed; tiny diamonds no bigger than grans of sand covered the layers stopping just before the band would disappear between the fingers. The ring finished off with a pear-shaped stone that was to his trained eye a man-made diamond of flawless quality.

“How much?”

Startled by the sound of his voice you looked at him for a moment with your mouth open before remembering yourself and closed it, standing straighter. He sounded European, French more than likely considering the vague accent which would explain the blonde hair and blue eyes.

“I’m, um… I’m sorry?”

“The price, mademoiselle. How much are you asking for the ring?” He was standing with his hands behind his back, making eye contact but not oppressively so.

He has kind eyes.

You hesitate for a moment, deciding to be honest with him. “I’m not well versed in the exchange rate; the owner of the shop normally handles that for me.”

“Not a problem, I’m guessing USD is what you are familiar with correct?”

“Yes.” No need to ask how he knows, one word out of your mouth and it’s clear your American if a glance at how you look wasn’t enough.

He bends down to examine the ring again. “May I?” he holds his hand out, as if to pluck the ring from its velvet perch.

“Oh, of course!”

The shop owner watches the conversation with mild amusement, having dealt with the young sir several times before. He knew that face when he saw it, this was all business, he decided to walk off, leaving you both to talk.

After examining the ring up close, even going as far as removing a jewelers loop from his impeccably tailored suit jacket, he places it back on the pillow and turns to you.

“Yuga, Aoyama. Nice to meet you miss?” As he holds his hand out you look at it with confusion before placing yours in it. Before you can react, he brings it to his lips and gives it a peck.

You choke one your words, never having had a man do that to you in real life. “Uhhh, I’m L/N Y/N. Nice to meet you as well Mr. Aoyama.”

Yuga smiles brightly at your flustered expression and glances at the ring once more before speaking. “Twelve thousand, for the ring and a job.”

Your mouth falls open again, this time you don’t both to close it.

Twelve thousand? I would have been happy to get five, but twelve?

“Wait did you say and a job?”

After explaining that his parents owned a well-known jewelry store uptown and that they had always wanted to hire a full-time jeweler to work in the back of their shop for custom requests and general repairs he offered you the job again.

“You would be the only person in the workshop, and we would provide you with your own space behind the store, for ease of access should someone need an emergency repair.”

Not giving yourself time to reconsider you accepted, shaking on it, and telling him you could start in two weeks.

It has been almost three years since then and despite a rocky start, mostly with the other employees barging into your workshop and demanding you to drop everything and polish or repair something, you could never regret taking the job.

Aoyama’s parents might own the shop, but he was an employee like everyone else. His parents believed in him having real world experience; well as much as you can get from working for your parents.

Aoyama had been a permanent part of your life since then, making sure you had all the tools you needed. Staying late so that he could take you home when it got dark. He was always making sure you ate during the day and stayed hydrated.

He went from a friendly coworker to a friend, to a best friend in a matter of months and before you knew it, you never went a day without talking to him at least once. You started to spend time together outside of work as well, whether it was sitting in companionable mostly silence at your apartment drinking tea; or having lavish dinners at restaurants that were always oddly vacant even during the weekend. Yuga always made sure that anything you did together was your choice, even if you decided you wanted to be alone. He merely gave you a slight nod and, again with your permission, a kiss on the cheek before leaving you alone.

The one thing you could never get used too was the compliments. Although you had gotten better at shrugging them off and not having your face burst into flames, every nice comment or kind word rattled in your brain until you feel asleep that night. Only to be replaced with new ones the next day.

You don’t know when you started to think about him in a more serious sense, but you became more aware of the effect his presence had on you after dealing with a particularly tough customer.

Aoyama found you crying in your workshop after hearing about the disaster of a consultation.

You had brought the finished piece to the customer and they had blown up at you, claiming nothing looked even remotely professional and that the piece was sloppy. He was told that you calmly handled the situation, showing them the paper, they had signed stating in extreme detail what they wanted and pointing out that you had done everything correctly.

Eventually his father had to step in giving you leave to silently retreat to your workshop in the back.

When he walked in, making sure to shut the door softly enough to not startle you but loud enough that you knew he was there, he walked up and sat next to you. Not saying a word, not touching you, just letting you know that he was there, he was present should you need him.

He sat there until you reached out a hand, and he grabbed it in both of his.

“I – I know I shouldn’t let this affect me, and – and that it’s stupid,” you hiccup, tears still slowly running down your face. “it’s stupid to cry. But I, it’s painful to have someone work so hard to tear down my work, to tear me down.”

“Y/n darling, look at me.” Aoyama softly grabs your chin and tilts your face up, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “It is never stupid to cry if you need to shed some tears then do so, it will help ease your pain.” He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and dabs at your tears. “It is alright if this affects you, it will make most people feel bad, just don’t let it consume you.”

“I thought we were going on a date?” You look up in confusion at the simple yet no less elegant house you were driving up to, Yuga’s house.

“We are mon cheri!” He pulls up in front and parks the car, getting out and going around to your door.

Is that a valet?

Aoyama opens your door and holds out his hand, ever the chivalrous gentleman, and you grab it. As you step out of the vehicle and shut the door, the valet takes the keys and drives off, going around the back of the house.

He hired a valet, just to drive his car to his garage.

“This is your house.” You look at the building then back at him incuriously.

“Observant as always darling, yes this my house.” He holds out his arm for you to take, which you do, without hesitation. “I am well aware of your aversion to crowded enclosed spaces.” His voice soft as you both walk up the front steps of his home. “So, I decided what better way to ensure you are comfortable than to have a date at my home?”

“Your name sir?”

You were to busy watching your steps on the stairs that the cheery female voice startled you. Snapping your head up your eyes go wide, comically so, at the sight of a podium next to the front doors. A woman with A-line brown hair and a kind face is dressed in a black turtleneck standing behind it.

“Aoyama, Yuga. For two.”

She glances down at the book in front of her, as if checking for his name you glance at your friend. Aoyama only stands in place, patiently waiting for the hostess to escort you both to your table.

After a quick moment, she looks back up a smile on her face and laughter in her eyes. She steps out from behind the podium and opens one of the doors, her knee length black skirt fluttering in the wind.

“Right this way, we have your table already set.”

As you both start down the long hallway you sneak a peek at the “guest book” not surprisingly finding the pages blank. You huff out a laugh and let yourself be lead to the back of the house. “You really went all out with this huh?”

No answer, just the soft thudding of your shoes on the carpet and the far away sounds of cooking coming from the kitchen at the other end of the house. As you approach the door that leads to his backyard, a glass one that normally allows an unobstructed view of the carefully maintained garden, you are instead met with a thick velvet curtain. As it sways and moves, velvet waves on an emerald ocean, you take one more look at your companion and meet his eyes.

Aoyama can see the confusion and excitement in your eyes, in the way your eyebrows are slightly raised, how you chew on your lip, and he smiles.

In a grand flourish the hostess open the curtain and he watches as your face turns to the open door and your mouth drops open.

“Your table awaits.”

“I want you to be my partner, in any capacity that you are comfortable blessing me with.”

“W-what?” You’re frozen in your seat, lips gently parted, eyes lined with silver.

Yuga stands from his chair and moves it to sit beside you, taking your hand so softly holding it as if you were made of glass. As always, he looks in your eyes, checking for any sign of discomfort before continuing. “Whether it be a friend, a lover, or a significant other. I want to be in your life for as long as you will allow it.”

Your breath hitches, the silver lining your eyes growing thicker as they swirl with emotion.

“Aimer, ce n’est pas se regarder l’un I’auter, c’est regarder ensemble dans la même direction.”**

You don’t know what the phrase means, but the tone of his voice, the love in his eyes causes the tears to spill over.

Yuga gazes at you silently for a moment, speechless. The love he feels for you reflected in your eyes, in your smile, and then he is crying. “Love doesn’t mean gazing at each other, but looking, together, in the same direction.”

He holds out a hand, a small box resting in his cupped palm, with the ring you had crafted, the one he bought on your first meeting. “I love you Y/N; will you look toward the future, together, with me?”

@doinmybesthere @patchworkpuzzle @eyebagsbutglam​ 

Fun Fact!

The ring Y/n made is based off of my irl engagement ring! Here is a picture of it, please excuse my chubby hands.

[aforrestofstuff]

What would happen at an s-class slumber party? Including Saitama I guess. Like who falls asleep first, who plays games, etc

I got these two asks like, literally ten minutes apart and idk what prompted all of these sleepy time curiosities pertaining to the S-Class but I am HERE for it. I’m gonna put them together into one masterpost because they’re roughly the same thing lol. Thanks for requesting stuff y’all! 😄💖

I was having trouble thinking of a possible scenario that could explain why the S-Class would even want to be in the same room together for more than 30 minutes, let alone have a sleepover. The best I could come up with is Sitch paid them all a handsome sum to sleep in the Hero Association lobby and stand guard because there’s an S-Class threat hit squad on the hunt for his executive ass. And, being the cheap-asses that they all are, they took the offer.

Now, with that out of the way, let’s get crackin fellas:

Tornado of Terror: She’s grumpy as all hell to be here (even though she got paid the most), so she just falls the fuck asleep and tells everyone to wake her up at the first sign of trouble because she thinks she’s the only one who’s capable enough to deal with it. She brings a pillow, a blanket, her jammies, and a teddy to sleep with. If anyone dares to open their mouth about Sir Stuffers then she’ll gladly explode their head.

Silverfang: Volunteers to take first watch, but because he’s an old shit he falls asleep 20 minutes into his shift. He doesn’t bring anything to sleep with because he convinced himself that he has the willpower to stay up all night but Charanko “accidentally” mixed melatonin into Silverfang’s tea before he left for the mission so now he’s passed the fuck out and not waking up anytime soon.

Atomic Samurai: Same as Silverfang: thinks he can stay up to stand watch and falls asleep 10 seconds into his shift. Except, he doesn’t need to be poisoned to accidentally fall asleep because dealing with his disciples is a triple full-time job and as a result, daddy Kami is always ready to pass the fuck out at any time. He’s basically a narcoleptic past 8pm. To sleep with, he brought a ratty-ass pillow and a bottle of night juice (saké).

Child Emperor: is nocturnal and completely fine with staying up all night, so he’s on watch the whole time. Although, the sound of candy wrappers makes it hard for anyone else to sleep and as a result, everyone is ready to punt this kid by 3am. He shows up in gym shorts and a t-shirt because what’s the point of getting dressed with these hooligans and spends the whole night hanging out with Zombieman. Although, he did bring a sleeping bag and pillow just incase he wants to take a power nap.

Metal Knight: Shows up in a power suit like this mf in Pacific Rim. Everyone thinks he’s just controlling a drone remotely but Sitch told him if he doesn’t show up in person then he doesn’t get the money, so he’s sitting in this tin can the whole time and trying his best to stay awake (he passes out by midnight). He’s also in his underwear. Idk why that was worth it to mention but there you go ❤️

King: Mentally on the verge of a breakdown at the thought of spending the whole night with these jackasses but shows up anyway because he wants that PS5 and is willing to do anything to get it. He gets there in his jammies, sets down his pikachu sleeping bag, and falls asleep without saying hi or offering to take watch. Everyone thinks that he’ll wake up naturally at the first sign of trouble and finds it really impressive that he fell asleep so fast, but he really just passed out from hyperventilating so hard. He would normally be perfectly fine with staying up all night because he’s a gamer and he does it all the time anyway, but anxiety really do be like that sometimes.

Zombieman: Is nocturnal like Child Emperor when he wants to be, but can also fall asleep in .2 seconds on a bed of nails. He’s perfectly fine with staying up all night because he constantly does it when following leads on a case and doesn’t bother bringing anything to sleep on. In fact, he shows up in full gear because he’s mildly paranoid and he wears it all the time anyway, it’s basically a second skin by now. He spends the night playing cards with CE and taking occasional sips from a flask to calm his nerves. They also take turns telling spooky ghost stories by the light of Zombieman’s lighter, to which he pretends to be scared. When he wants to smoke, he does it by Bofoi’s machine because fuck that guy.

Drive Knight: Forgot to change his Duracells the day before and falls over the second he walks in the door. Everyone thinks he’s a lazy ass for falling asleep so soon but he’s actually in a robo-medical emergency.

Pig God: is perfectly fine with staying up all night because, as I’ve said on multiple other hcs, he’s a hardcore gamer and being nocturnal is basically second nature. However, like Child Emperor, the sound of him constantly eating in the dark has everyone ready to jump his ass by midnight. He’s dressed in his pajamas as well, and they’re so big that they share the clothing measurements of an actual humpback whale.

Superalloy Darkshine: Falls asleep by 9pm on the dot every night and knows it’s pretty much impossible for him to stay up all night so he shows up in his Bedtime Thong(tm) with a sleeping bag and kindly asks everyone to wake him up if there’s trouble. Nobody listens but he pretends they do. He also brings a “small stash” (actual grocery bag filled to the brim) of protein bars to snack on incase he gets hungry in the middle of the night and offers a few to everyone, to which they decline (ultra-vegan keto-friendly gluten-free sugar-free flavor-free protein bars taste like actual garbage). And because he drinks a swimming pool of water every day (gotta stay at peak physique, yo), he gets up at least 12 times in the middle of the night to pee and he pisses so loud for no reason that it sounds like there’s a waterfall in the next room.

Watchdog Man: Carries his human-sized doggy bed in with his mouth and falls the fuck asleep without even announcing his presence. Nobody even notices he’s there. Sitch forgets to pay him.

Flashy Flash: Is fine with staying up all night to stand watch because he had to do it so many times in the ninja village anyway, but fuck me if he isn’t pissy about it. He shows up in full gear because, like Zombieman, he wears it so often that it’s basically a second skin at this point. By 2am he fucks off to take a shower because being in the same room with these people actually makes him feel unclean and he doesn’t leave the bathroom until the sun starts to rise. His hair, however, looks twice as shiny.

Genos: Shows up, points his arm cannon at the door incase of possible intruders, and doesn’t move for 12 hours. He brought Saitama along because why not and mr caped baldy greatly regrets it.

Metal Bat: Shows up in gym shorts with his bat, a blanket, and a pillow and fucks off to the corner of the room to brood. He takes watch for a few hours in between power naps, and sleeps with his phone .2 inches away from his face incase Zenko calls. When she does, he wakes up at the speed of light and loudly answers the phone like there isn’t at least 7 other people sleeping within close proximity to him. It’s never for an emergency, she just calls like 3 times into the night because she had a bad dream or she’s wondering how he’s doing. But regardless of what it is, Badd is ready to run all the way home and be with her. He just took the job because he wants to buy her a bigass gift with all the money he’ll be receiving.

Tanktop Master: Same as Superalloy, except he snores like a motherfucker. He doesn’t need waterfall piss to keep everyone up because this mf sounds like a lawn mower. He shows up in his Tanktop Pajamas (which is basically just a Tanktop with pajama bottoms) and takes watch in between power naps, to which he sleeps on a Tanktop Sleeping bag (just a regular sleeping bag, there’s literally nothing different about it) with his Tanktop Pillow (also just a regular pillow, literally nothing special about it).

Puri-Puri Prisoner: sleeps naked. Dick out.

Saitama: Gets bored as hell by 10pm and tries to wake up King so they can play video games together on his gameboy that he smuggled in, but the poor bastard is OUT. Saitama tries to sleep, however, he forgot to bring anything to sleep on so he tries to roll up his cape and use it as a pillow but, alas, he gets a neck cramp so bad that he actually almost starts to cry.

[petri808]

For an event on Twitter. Fake dating/dinner with family Bakudeku ficlet

“Deku, I gotta ask you something.”

“Sure, Kacchan, what is it.”

“I lied and told my mom I have a boyfriend, so now she insists I bring them over for Christmas dinner.”

Izuku stared at the man, was he crazy! “No way.”

“What’d ya mean no! You’re the only one I can ask for help!”

“No, I’m not! Go ask Kiri or Kaminari. Aunty Mitsuki knows me, this’ll never work!”

“Yes, it will!”

“No, it won’t! Why are you so sure it’ll work?!”

“Because!” Katsuki’s voice tapers away, “she assumed it was you.”

Izuku’s eyes widen. “What?! Why would she think that?”

“Because she thinks you’re perfect for me. Look, I just need to get the nag off my back and I’ll break it to her after the holidays we broke up or something. Come on Deku, just do this for me!”

Ugh! He knows this’ll bite him in the ass later, but Katsuki looks desperate, and Izuku hates seeing his friend in distress. He sighs, “alright Kacchan. I’ll do it. But just the one dinner, right? And you’ll tell her the truth afterwards.”

“Yeah.”

“When is this dinner?”

As Izuku stands outside of the Bakugou residence, he tries to calm his nerves. These are people who knew him from childhood and it felt so wrong to deceive them like this, not to mention Mitsuki will probably see right through the fake dating bullshit and berate them over it.

He must be crazy to have agreed to this! How do you fake the fact you like someone romantically... when you actually do like them, but don’t want them to know that you do?! Regardless, Izuku has no idea how to behave in a relationship anyway because he’s never been in one before!

Should he hold Katsuki’s hand? Make cute comments? Rest his head on the man’s shoulder? Be all lovey dovey and cute? Omg what if she asks them to kiss?!?! This woman is unpredictable, just like her son and Izuku didn’t put it past her to ask such a thing, demand such a thing. Ugh! He’ll just wing it!

He takes a step forward, then pauses. No, no, no, he turns away from the door ready to leave. This is wrong! This is— The door opening behind him along with the woman’s voice makes Izuku jump out of his skin. Shit! He’s caught!

“Izuku! I thought I heard someone out here!”

He turns slow and sheepishly, “hi aunty.”

“Come in, come in!” She ushers the man into the apartment. “Katsuki’s already at the table waiting for you.”

Yay! Izuku groans internally. “Thank you for having me here Aunty Mitsuki.”

“Just call me mom, Izuku, since your practically family.”

Oh, boy! He gulps. “Thanks— mom.”

Mitsuki seats him next to Katsuki. “Dinners almost done, so just make yourself at home.” She pinches Izuku’s cheek with a smile. “I always knew you two would end up together. You’re really perfect for each other.”

“Mom!” Katsuki rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna scare him!”

“Pfft! Boy! You better not lose this one!” She jabs a finger at her son. “Izuku is the best you’ll ever get, so don’t you fuck it up!”

“Tch! I can get better.”

While mother and son bicker in front of him, Izuku deflates a little in his chair. ‘Please make tonight go quickly!’ Her words make Izuku feel special, but Katsuki’s cut him to the core, a stab in the heart, used and abused to be tossed aside once the night is over. Eww, he felt like a hired prostitute in that moment and it makes his skin crawl. A payment of dinner and nothing more to show.

“Just ignore the hag,” Katsuki mumbles. “You know how she is. Just a few hours of pretending and it’s over.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Izuku sighs and whispers back. “It’s obvious you don’t really want me here so I’ll keep quiet.”

Katsuki’s brow raises, “Oi, what’s your problem?”

“Nothing. Just ignore me like you usually do.”

“What the fuck are you talking about Deku?! What’s with all the self-pity bullshit now?!”

“Kacchan,” Izuku rolls his eyes because of course, Katsuki doesn’t understand. “Keep your voice down. You don’t want her to see us arguing.”

“Deku, you better tell me what’s—“

Seeing Mitsuki returning, Izuku quickly places a hand on Katsuki’s mouth to shut him up. Letting a false chuckles. “Don’t worry about me Kacchan, you know I eat anything.” As the mom gets closer. “You know, your son is a really good cook too, he clearly learned from the best.”

“Awww! That’s so sweet of you to say Izuku!” She places the final dish on the table. “I wish my son,” glaring at the man, “was as nice as you.”

“Tch,” Katsuki crosses his arms furious that Izuku threw him under the bus like that! Oh, he’ll hash this out as soon as this is over!

Mr. Bakugou arrives home from work just in time for dinner, so the two couples dig in. Izuku’s comment about cooking wasn’t a lie, he really believes that Katsuki is good at it because he took after his mother. When they were kids, the two mothers took turns babysitting he and Katsuki, and Izuku still remembers all the yummy snacks or lunches she’d make for them. Back then he and Katsuki had been so close that sometimes if he thought about it too much, it makes him sad.

Even now, after they’d sort of become friends again, Izuku wonders if it’s only because of the quirk? It was only after receiving OFA, getting into UA, and proving his ability to wield the quirk that Katsuki had come around. So, what if he’d remained quirkless? Would Katsuki still be treating him like shit? Ignoring his very existence and pretending they’d never been friends at all? He didn’t like to think about it.

“So,” Mitsuki questions, “what made you two finally become a couple?”

Izuku jabs Katsuki under the table. “Why don’t you tell her Kacchan?” He asks the man in a sweet voice to put him on the spot.

Katsuki glares for a second before catching himself. “It just happened.”

“Oh, come on, there’s gotta be more to it,” she pushes. “You boys have been through a lot together, so did you just realize one day you were great for each other?”

“Yeah, sure! That’s it. We just came to our senses, I guess. Nothing special really. Just perfect partners’n all.”

The statement satisfies the woman enough that she backs off for the rest of the dinner. Albeit she’s grinning for the rest of the night. Ugh, now that really makes Izuku feel worse for lying! Mitsuki really loves the idea of he and Katsuki being a couple, so the truth will really hurt her.

“Thank you again for dinner... mom,” Izuku smiles even though he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Oh, you’re welcome! Please drop by again!”

As soon as the door closes, Izuku lets out a long exhale and starts to walk away, but Katsuki yanks him to a stop. “Oi, we ain’t done yet.”

“Yes, we are.” Izuku tries to pulls away.

“No! Tell me why you were being so... so grumpy tonight?!”

“Because I hate lying to her! And you— Never mind, you don’t care anyway. Just let me leave Kacchan. It’s over.”

But Katsuki’s grip increases, “you like me— don’t you Deku?”

Izuku rolls his eyes. “Does it matter?” He’s too tired and annoyed to fight back anymore.

Without warning, Katsuki yanks Izuku off balance and he stumbles into the man... who kisses him! Kisses on the lips! It completely takes Izuku by surprise and once he’s released, the look on his face clearly states so.

Seeing the confusion. “Stupid Deku,” Katsuki places several more kisses. “You’re the only one I wanted to bring home for dinner.”

[jocelynscloset]

On Low | Michael Langdon

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Author's Note: This got super long. It's 1.7K words, so enjoy :)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A quiet moan falls from your lips as the heel of Michael's hand digs just right into the tension that has been building in your lower back for days. With the unbearable mattress supplied by the hospitable Outpost 3, you've found yourself becoming irritable and grumpy, especially with Michael refusing to lay by your side as you fall asleep on the rock hard slab each night because he's "formulating his selections".

The second you snapped at him after 4 days of barely speaking to one another between him interviewing various intolerable shrews who lick their lips salaciously whenever he walks into a room, he knows it's time to do something to relieve your tension. The second you glared at him and told him to "eat by yourself, asshole", he pushed you against the wall and planted his hand authoritatively against your throat. However, you groaned in pain as your shoulder blades slammed against the hard surface because you were trying to protect your lower back from taking the brunt of the force.

Immediately, Michael's frustrated glare turned into a look of concern as he scanned your face for the fleeting expression of pain he'd just witnessed.

"What's wrong, darling, did I hurt you?" You shook your head, raising your arm to gently stroke the top of his hand that still rested comfortingly against the column of your throat.

"No, Michael, it's not you. It's that fucking bed. My back is all screwed up and I'm barely sleeping and I guess it's making me more grouchy than usual." Your husband merely hummed and stroked your cheek as he pondered a solution to your pain.

"How about I give you a massage like I do when we're back home?" You blush at the thought. Michael's smirk grows as you reminisce on his special method of working the tension out of your body and your mind. You look down slightly out of embarrassment, but he tilts your chin up to meet his eyes immediately. "Don't overthink it. Let me make you feel better." He presses a delicate kiss to your temple and you hum in agreement before allowing him to guide you to the uncomfortable bed. With a wave of his hand, the bed rises in height by at least 4 inches and you sigh.

"Michael, why couldn't you have just replaced the mattress in the first place?" He chuckles and rubs at the bridge of his nose.

"Because I haven't had the privilege of experiencing how uncomfortable it is yet, sweetheart. I fall asleep in my desk chair every night." You tilt your head sympathetically and it sinks in that the last few days here haven't been easy for him either.

"Well considering that we've both had a shitty stay here at Casa Outpost, I'm returning the favor this time, and I want no complaints." Michael only nods and leans his head down to capture your lips in a loving kiss.

"I appreciate it, my love." With that, Michael backs away slightly before winking at you, and in a second your dress falls to the floor, leaving you in a simple bra and panties, which happen to be one of his favorite outfits to see you in. He loves the domesticity of seeing you in a simple black bra and a cute pair of cotton panties, and he notes the avocados scattered all over your current pair. You blush at your un-sexy underwear, but you know he appreciates your body all the same.

After taking a moment to admire you, he stalks over to his desk drawer and grabs the standard bullet vibrator that you two like to use from time to time for occasions like this. It has multiple settings, including one that is just barely enough to be noticeable, but not enough to get you anywhere near your orgasm. That's the trick to his special "massages". He slips the little bullet into your panties to tease you while he massages your sore muscles and uses his hands to get you pliant and relaxed before he completely exhausts you with a long, slow orgasm where his cock is nestled deeply in your cunt and he's just barely moving, each movement causing an intense jolt of pleasure to radiate from your tummy to your toes.

It's the most glorious way to end a shitty day, and the further he gets with his plans for the cooperative, the more it occurs. While you hate the irritation that comes with your respective seats at the head of the table, you savor the way you care for each other through it. Though, this time, you're determined to give him the same attention.

Michael rests his hands on your hips, turning you away from him and prompts you to crawl onto the now fluffy bed and get into a comfortable spot, resting on your bare tummy with your arms folded under your chin. Michael takes off his jacket and shoes, unbuttoning his shirt half way and pulling off his belt as well. You love Michael when he's like this; just completely comfortable and dressed down and warm in his demeanor. As turned on as you get by his coldness and authority, you savor the fact that you're the only one who gets to see him like this.

Michael sits beside you on the bed, his hips resting comfortably next to your thighs as his fingers, still adorning it ornate ring collection, caress your thighs with a feather-light touch. You shiver, goosebumps rising on your exposed flesh as he continues to touch you. He leans down and plants a kiss on the small of your back, and you giggle at the ticklish sensation, which in turn causes a loving smile to crawl onto his features.

He warms the vibrator in his hands and switches it onto the lowest setting before clearing his throat, which you know is his way of asking you to raise your hips to allow him to slip it into your panties and position it against your clit. He lightly taps your ass, allowing you to replace your body in it's relaxed position. You sigh in delight as you feel the comforting vibrations against your bundle of nerves, and as soon as you're resting again, Michael begins to rub and apply pressure to your back, one area at a time, making sure to note your soft sighs and hums when he reaches a knot or a sore spot.

Soon enough, you're practically whining as he grinds his hands down particularly hard into your lower back, undoing all of the tension that has been souring your mood for days. He grins when your breathing returns to a relaxed, rhythmic pace and he's merely caressing your skin.

He leans down to press another kiss to your back, this time right between your shoulder blades, and you giggle in appreciation. He looks between your legs and sees that you've effectively soaked through your panties, which is his way of assessing a job well done. However, as he goes to remove the tiny device, you lift yourself on your forearms and reach one hand back to swat his hand away.

"Um, it's your turn, Mr. Langdon." Michael rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless and finishes removing his shirt before you roll out of your spot on the bed and instruct him to take your place. You get distracted for a moment by the way his skin stretches across his muscular arms and toned back, and run your fingers innocently against his smooth skin. He clears his throat and you laugh at his impatience. "And you were complaining..." you mumble mostly to yourself before straddling one of his clothed thighs and you gasp as you feel the vibrator press harder against your clit.

You ignore the pleasure and begin running your hands up and down your husband's back, taking a moment to gently gather his stray locks of hair and push them aside. He hums as you delicately graze your nails down his back to the waistband of his slacks, and then begin to knead at his, admittedly tense, muscles.

You get so lost in the task of evenly working out the knots and soreness in his body that you don't realize how you begin to rock against his thigh, chasing the light pleasure that's being delivered through the tiny device. Michael chuckles to himself at your neediness, but he figures there's no way you could get yourself to orgasm with that little pressure.

However, less than a minute later, your hands lose their rhythm on his skin and your hips begin to stutter on his thigh before a quiet, desperate moan leaves your lips and you feel your clit pulse with orgasm. It's not exactly intense, but it was unexpected and you suspect immediately once your mind returns from the delightful haze that it had more to do with the eroticism of worshipping Michael than the physical stimulation itself.

Regardless, Michael turns his head and looks back at you in slight astonishment, his eyes drifting to where your core rests against the back of his thigh and he just grins at you with a smugness you could only describe as boyish.

"You really are a dirty whore, aren't you?" You blush at his words, since instead of being delivered with the usual coldness, he's nearly laughing. You grumble just a little slipping your bra and panties off and turning off the vibrator, but you can't help the little smile that takes over your features.

You climb off of Michael and lay next to him on the sheets, and he just rolls onto his side and rests his hand on your warm cheek before kissing you with a sweetness you feel a nostalgia for from early on in your relationship, when he was just a gifted boy who wore ripped t-shirts and listened to Fall Out Boy.

"I love you, and your naughty urges." You blush again, shoving your face into the pillow and curling closer to him. Michael waves his hand one more time and his own clothes are removed and you both now suddenly lay beneath the covers.

"I love you too, Michael." You sigh and snuggle closer to him, but he chuckles instead of wrapping arms around you like he usually does.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm not done with you, yet."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[plutomade]

hi gang, i’m lexi, i’m 19 and i’m in the pst! i bring to you the second in command. to read more about mr. grumpy pants pls look below the cut!!

alright. so. this is percy banks, ex fbi agent and legally dead man!!! he’s done A Lot in his thirty years of life and it’s troubling to page through it all

long story short, he became a core part of a different heist crew run by his mentor at the fbi and ran with them for a while until the rest of them all died because he had allowed his feelings to distract him from the job

since then all he’s done is repress emotions and bottle them up until they’re sure to just explode, all at once. when he was working for the fbi, he was a hotshot rookie and almost let his ego go to his head. of course, he had absolutely no morals so he switched to a life of crime and somehow learned to respect others from that. it was really just being on a solid team that changed him, and he dialed his ego down a bit. said team died, of course, so now he’s a stone cold, self-obsessed asshole because he’d rather not process his feelings like a normal person. that would be ridiculous.

he’s the workaholic of the century. period.

he’s never not looking angry and disappointed. it’s his brand. especially around the new kid on the block!!!!!

he used to think he was hot shit (and he still kind of does???) but now he’s just hellbent on putting people who think they’re hot shit in their place. 

percy has a major superiority complex. he sincerely believes that he is the most important part of the team. sometimes that gets in the way of things, but for the most part he never gets that emotional. he’s very stoic. that being said, he doesn’t really do “friends.” he’s been a lone wolf his whole life.

he is definitely not afraid of killing people. during his time as an fbi agent, he had the highest body count of any rookie in his class. being very emotionally distant definitely helps with that. as you may have noticed, percy doesn’t really have a moral code. he doesn’t care who he shoots if they’re getting in the way of things.

percy is usually wearing a suit. he does it to intimidate the others. he also thinks he looks hot af in suits!

he wants to stage a coup because he doesn’t believe the mastermind is sharp enough to keep running the group. he knows what happens when you get reckless (people you care about die) and so he thinks he has to manage that himself. this is entirely regardless of whether or not the mastermind is actually that reckless; percy would think so even if they weren’t. he has incredibly high standards and a knack for criticizing leadership, so he thinks they’re sloppy regardless if it’s true or not. it’s also a matter of scope; percy thinks they can start moving on to bigger heists; he loves planning out the complexities. it’s an art, as long as everyone takes the necessary precautions. he wants to get the team working like a well-oiled machine to pull that kind of stuff off. of course, he’s also just crazy obsessed with himself and thinks that he can run the group better. he wants to be the best. period.

he also wants to be like his old dead mentor, marvin/jupiter. he misses what they had on that team. if he were to assume the mastermind’s position, he would give each of the team members a moniker belonging to a roman god. he already has this planned out.

juno - the mastermind (given that they stay on the team)

apollo - the ace in the hole

diana - the bleeding heart

minerva - the career criminal

mercury - the eye in the sky

bacchus - the getaway driver

mars - the hired gun

vulcan - the inside man

prosperpina - the new kid on the block

venus - the star of the show

ceres - the watchdog

kinda a non sequitur here but percy has a lot of bottled up sexual tension so.......he might act like he’s an angry old grandpa three-quarters of the time but the other quarter he’s kind of a flirt??? until he realizes that he’s off-task and switches back to work mode. he’s definitely not looking for love, as the last time that happened, she died right in front of him. rip.

this scene from agents of shield is literally him (ft. the new kid perhaps)

his heist skills include:

seven languages: mandarin, spanish, russian, japanese, french, italian, and german. he technically also knows a little swedish.

hand-to-hand combat: he can kick ass thanks to krav maga and the fbi training system.

weapons: he’s fairly good with a gun. not an expert,

multiple identities: he’s pretty good at pretending to be different people. most of the time he doesn’t do too much of it, though.

drunk karaoke: he can give a mean rendition of i ran (so far away)

[askbittyerror]

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” The human yells, shoving Huitzi off with significant effort as the skeleton wheezes, magic blown from two frantic jumps in such a short time. “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?”

He looks up and spins around, reeling at the sight of absolutely fuckall.

“WHERE THE HELL ARE WE?”

“My timeline, now would you stop yelling?” A human clothed in nothing but black and white says, dodging the first’s immediate punch and letting him throw himself face-first into the ground through sheer momentum.

The monochrome human looks from the groaning man clutching his face on the ground to the growling skeleton fighting to push himself up and sighs.

“Would you both fucking chill? You’re the first people I’ve met in decades and I’d rather not be forced to cut you in half if at all possible.”

Huitzi glares, propped up on his hands and keeping himself from collapsing through will alone.

“H- How do we know you aren’t going to do so regardless?”

“Because I’m unarmed?” He points out, rolling his eyes. “I can’t just stab someone with air, now can I?”

“Sorry.” Huitzi gasps, arms buckling and slamming his chin onto the blank floor. “Shit- I- we’re, ugh, just a bit on edge.”

“I’m never off edge!” The hooded man shouts from the ground. “And there’s no we in this! You just kidnapped me just cuz you wanted out of training!”

“I did not!” Huitzi yells at him. “I saved you from whatever that bastard was going to do to us!”

“Like shit you did, I would’ve been-”

“Would you two shut up?!” The only one standing yells. “Can we maybe try to have, I dunno, a conversation and try to sort this shit out?”

The floor human makes some sort of snarly noise and Huitzi kind of just hiss-groans.

“Great! I’m glad we could reach an agreement!” Captain skinned-a-zebra says, clapping his hands together. “Now let’s all just sit in a nice, calm circle and talk, okay?”

He drags the grumpy hooded creature upright and looks at Huitzi.

“You’re gonna have to get over here yourself, I’m pretty ripped but even I probably couldn’t lift you.”

“Oh, how humble.” The other human gripes and gets slapped upside the head and then laid on by the much taller human before he can retaliate. “WHAT IS WITH YOU TWO AND LAYING ON ME?”

“I, uh, don’t believe I can move.” Huitzi admits, trembling weakly. “I am injured and also very much spent.”

The taller human looks over him and nods, pushing himself off the other by jabbing a hand into his stomach and dodging his enraged flailing.

“I can help with at least some of that, I’m a decent healer.”

“Oh, thank you, that would be very much appreciated.” Huitzi smile-winces, the expression tugging at the wound covering half his face.

Mr. Monochrome kneels down, places his hand on Huitzi’s cheek and lets the magic roll into it, the wound slowly sealing shut.

“So, uh, what’s your name, big fella?” He asks.

“It is Huitzilopochtli. Or Huitzi, if you prefer.” He says, whimpering as the movement makes the human’s hand brush against the still-sensitive bone.

“That’s one hell of a mouthful.” The hands owner says, retracting it and fiddling around with a pouch at his waist. “I’m-”

“I’m Ash!” Ash declares, flopping onto Huitzi’s back and slapping a cinnabunny into his yelp-hole. “Nice to meet you Zi!”

Huitzi wheezes and coughs, magic dissolving the pastry before he can actually choke on it.

“Why the fell would you-”

“Eh, home sucks anyway, got a crazy-ass human there always killing everybody, it’ll be nice to get away for a while.” Ash grins, sprawling over his back, hands behind his head and feet up on Huitzi’s.

“Uh huh.” The other human shoves him off. “And I’m Lieutenant.”

“Here, open your mouth.” He says, nudging a vial of green liquid to Huitzi’s teeth. “Should perk you right up.”

Huitzi obediently does what he’s told, the mystery liquid pouring into his mouth and dissolving into his magic.

“Wow, no questions, alright then.” Lieutenant says, helping Huitzi to his feet and then back down into a sit then dragging Ash over by legs and dropping him just across. “You okay, dude?”

“It matters not whether I live or die, my existence was meaningless to begin with.”

“Wow, so deep.” Ash rolls his eyes while Lieutenant takes a seat, giving Huitzi a worried look.

“Yeaaaah, you’re definitely not okay.” Lieutenant leans forward, elbows on his knees. “So. What’s wrong?”

“I was stolen from my home, thrown into one where I had to kill to survive, then taken from that one to my own personal hell where time melded together and everything hurt, then I escaped to Ash’s world, was nearly found by my kidnapper, and accidently stole Ash from his home when I ran from that too.”

Both humans stare at Huitzi in silence.

“O….kay then.” Lieutenant blinks.

“Pfft, nice story.” Ash rolls his eyes for probably the billionth time. “I think you’re just lazy-”

“Hello.”

The boys all scream and spin around, weapons summoned from nowhere except for the knife Ash pulls from his boot.

“There’s no need for that. You can’t kill me. Besides,” The grayscale child smiles. “I’m actually here to help.”

[vydante]

Restart | Avengers x Male! Reader | 7

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Avengers x Male! Reader (romantically: undecided)

Plot: Dr. Strange said there was only one possibility of winning the battle against Thanos.

But when (Name) is forced into the past and into his younger body, he’s suddenly given the chance to start over and prevent the future from happening again.

So which route are you going to take? Are you going to risk the future and take preventative measures, or live life with the Avengers for the next 4 years, knowing what will soon come?

A/N: Got a lil’ ol’ cliffhanger at the end for ya, haha.

"Summer's supposed to be a time for relaxation, (Name), not a time for working all day and night in your lab."

You swiveled around in your chair and pointed a screwdriver at Pepper, who stood at your door with a cheeky smile. You waved it at her dramatically and tilted your head.

"Correction: summer's a time for me to do whatever I please, ma."

You set down the screwdriver and stretched lazily. She walks up behind you and sets down a bowl of fruits, freshly cut. Your eyes lit up as you snatched up one of the slices and nibbled on it. She ruffled your hair playfully and you reluctantly let her mess with your updo.

"Thanks."

She winked at you as you went to grab for another slice. She whistles as she spun a full 360 just to look around your newly built and furnished lab. It was large but felt homey, with all of the nicknack plastered everywhere and a few couches and beanbag chairs in random corners.

"I will say, I love what you did with the place. See you took my advice with the walls and flooring."

You hummed quietly as you grabbed a few more fruits from the bowl.

She helped you with the floor planning and made a few suggestions- some of which you took, others you didn't. You were originally going to go with concrete floors and walls, but you thought about how it'd look, and well...

"Momma knows best, I guess. Didn't really have any other choice- it was either that," you motioned to the, admittedly, nice looking wallpaper and tiles, "or nothing, and I'd like for my man-cave to not actually look like a cave. Or, at least, better than dad's."

His wasn't ugly looking, not by a landslide. But you did want to have bragging rights over whose lab looked the best, and if you were being honest? Yours is definitely in the lead. 

"I just have to hang up a few more things- maybe have some LED lights on that corner over there, and I'll be done with decorating the place."

"No, you're not. If you want it to look better than Tony's, then you're gonna have to do a bit more decorating than that. Hey- say what, let's go shopping soon- mother-son day. I'll take you out to buy some more decorations, and maybe we'll go eating afterward."

"Oh? And what about dad? You know how he gets when we don't invite him to stuff."

You remembered the one time you took Morgan out to the park- nothing special, she was just feeling antsy and wanted to fly a kite and pet dogs- and he kept making offhanded sarcastic comments once he found out.

'Yeah, watching that movie sounds fun, almost as fun as that time our children went to the park without us.'

'I can guarantee you it'll be a great experience with all of us together- and not just half of the family because excluding them would be rude, right (Name)?'

He wouldn't let it go for weeks, much to both your amusement and annoyance. 

You grabbed a few more fruits before there were suddenly none left. Ah, shoot.

"Yeah, well, he can live without us for a few hours."

She grabbed the empty bowl with an impressed smile. Your cheeks turn an embarrassing pink, but you ignored it.

"If you say so."

You shrugged, doubting that he'll be fine if you two leave without him. It's not like he's gonna hurt himself while you're gone, he'll just be mildly grumpy and sassier than normal once you come back.

She leans over to give you a quick hug before heading out of your lab. She turns around and calls out to you one last time.

"Anyways, I'll leave you to it I guess. Don't forget- family night. 7 o'clock sharp."

"Yeah yeah, I'll be there. See ya."

You watched as her figure disappears behind the frosted windows, and you swiveled around in your chair again for a few minutes in silence before speaking up again.

"Imma take a nap."

"It is in your best interest not to sleep right now, sir. You have a meeting scheduled at 7."

J.A.R.V.I.S.' voice spoke up from above. You rolled your eyes at how formal he made your plans for tonight sound. You clapped your hands dramatically and the lights followed suit, dimming down where only the light from the hallway light illuminated your lab.

"Meeting my ass, it's just family night, Jar."

You walked over to the beanbag chairs- they were too huge to be chairs, but still- and plopped right on top of them. You grunted and shed off your shoes. You grabbed a nearby blanket as J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke again.

"Regardless, Mr. Stark."

You rolled your eyes and snuggled into the beanbag. You made sure to set an alarm for 6:30 so you wouldn't miss the family night and closed your eyes.

"Oh, one nap won't hurt me. Besides, I'm a pro at afterschool napping. Been doing it since '08 baby..."

"What happened in that one scenario, the one where we win?"

You glanced over at your father as he interrogates Strange. Your eyes traveled over to the guardians and Peter, who was watching Mantis do slow summersaults. The sky is burning your face, but you say nothing of it.

Was it always this hot?

"If I told you... It wouldn't happen."

Your father sighs with frustration as everyone else tenses up. Peter was stood next to you now and said something you couldn't catch. You tried to look at him, but you couldn't make out much other than his messy hair. His face is... Blurry.

No, that's not the right word...

"Goddamnit..." Your dad gruffly sighs and runs his hands through his hair. Your attention snaps back to him, and you raised an eyebrow.

... When was his hair dirty blonde...?

Everyone seemingly dispersed, unsatisfied with the answer. You turned around, but they were gone. It was just you and Strange. For some reason, something compelled you to linger around for just a little longer.

"... It's not an outcome I would hope for, you know..."

You raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" You ask as the hairs on your neck standing straight up. Your voice was a bit deeper and sandpaper-like. You hadn't heard yourself- your true self- speak in a while, so it startled you.

Strange's head is hung low and his voice is quiet when he speaks up. His veins are bulging out his head... Are they...

Are they moving?

"... Even if I could tell you, Stark, you'd be one of the last people I'd tell that to..."

While he says Stark, you know he's speaking directly at you instead of your father. He holds his breath before looking back up at you, eyes burning with... Regret?

You suddenly feel your throat close up on you as your hands claw at your throat. You tried to speak, but instead, you choked on your saliva as you reached out to Strange for help.

This... Feels familiar...

"And besides..."

He stands up and approaches you. You feel your stomach drop as he towers over you now, skin bulging out of his robes. It bubbles and moves unnaturally as the world closes in on you.

No... No, no, no...

This isn't right.

This...

What's happening?

He leans in close to your face as he grips your skull tightly with one hand, another on your arm. His face distorts into another face, one that brings nothing but several sleepless nights. Horror races through your veins as his nails start digging straight into your arm. 

You try to claw at him with your other hand, but it didn't do anything.

He starts pulling, hard, on other your arm as you could only silently scream. A sickening snap echoes in the silence of this planet.

Thud.

Your feet rise from the ground as he lifts you by his cruel hold on your head.

Everything hurts.

Your arm hurts.

You can't feel it. Your other hand, the one you can move, immediately reaches over to your shoulder, but only the cold breeze greeted your hand.

What...?

Your vision was getting dark as the lack of oxygen was taking its toll. 

You could only focus on his face as it distorts even more, from the fleshy hue to a sickening wisteria. His lips move, forming words but nothing comes out. You can't make out... What he's... Trying to say...

Ah... The side of your body feels warm, but your body shivers...

It's faint, but the smell of metal creeps in your lungs.

Shit...

Your head is spinning too much...

Gotta... Stay... Conscience...

As you quickly lose your grip on reality, a voice rings through your head and makes your ears throb painfully.

"I..."

It wasn't Strange speaking.

It was deeper, menacing...

"... Am..."

And laced with triumph.

"... Inevitable."

Your eyes snapped open as you gasped for air. You breathed erratically as you tried to catch your breath. You pulled away from the beanbag chair as you had your face buried deep into it. That was probably why you couldn't breathe properly.

What the fuck was that?

You could still feel your heart race a million miles an hour, the blood rushing to your ears almost blocking out a familiar noise.

"Ding! Ding! Ding!"

You shakingly look to your side and your phone was there, the flash going off like crazy. You reached over and turned the alarm off. You chucked your phone back down and leaned back into the beanbag.

"What the shit..."

You ran your fingers through your hair and scratched the back of your head as you closed your eyes, trying to get yourself together again.

While you will admit, you were diagnosed with PTSD from that horrid day, it hadn't acted up in a while now, and you hadn't a single clue what triggered it. Maybe it was because you were suffocating from sleeping faced down? You're not too sure.

Either way, you tried your best to calm your breathing and shed the blanket off of you. Your clothes stick to your body uncomfortably and you felt both cold and hot. 

"Sir, are you alright? Your heart rate has spiked within the last 5 minutes and you're perspiring more than normal by 300%."

You groaned quietly and rubbed the back of your head, feeling a stress-induced headache coming on. You glanced over to a cabinet a few feet away and saw a familiar red bottle. You got up, put your shoes on and shuffled over to it and dumped a pill out from it, all the meanwhile grumbling.

"Ugh, maybe I should've listened to you earlier; no more nappies..."

You squinted in the dark laboratory and trudged to the door, bumping into a few table corners here and there.

"Ow... Ow... Ow- fuck."

You finally reached the door and opened it, the hallway light too bright for your eyes. You still hold onto the pill and made your way to your room to make a change of clothes- these ones are too gross feeling.

"God, I hope they didn't pick a loud movie..."

"They picked Predator, sir." J.A.R.V.I.S. piped up, voice sounding suspiciously cheery.

"Ah, seriously? Of fucking course, it's a loud ass movie." You rolled your eyes but instantly regretted it as it made your headache worsen.

While you were still shaken by your nightmare, you pushed it to the back of your mind and hoped that spending the night with your parents would take your mind off of it. 

Somewhere, in a newly built yet messy building, sat two tired men. Around them were piles and piles of paperwork, all of them blurring into a bundle of nonsense that led to only one ultimate end point.

A conclusion that neither of them wanted.

It's been weeks since the incident at the old building. People were reunited, the threat had been eliminated... There are people just trying to get back onto their feet, some are trying to reorganize the world back together, others are helping their community; all in all, everyone's just trying to move on... but not them.

Not just yet.

"It doesn't make sense."

The blonde throws a file onto the pile next to him. More information had come in, more intel, but none of them were helpful. They all pointed to one conclusion, and it was one that he wasn't willing to accept anytime soon.

The other one looks at him with obvious frustration in his eyes. His wrinkles had gotten even deeper somehow in the past few days alone. He could feel the blonde's irritation, and while he would normally tell him to take a breather, he'd be lying if he wasn't feeling the same way about this.

"We searched everywhere. Every square inch of the rubble, the battlefield- hell, even his own house! And what came up? Nothing. Nada. Not a single trace of him."

"He's got to turn up somewhere, Bruce, I'm not giving up."

Bruce lets out an exhausted sigh as he glances over at the holograms, eyes lingering on one a bit too long before he moved on.

'Natasha Romanoff: K.I.A.'

"As much as we keep searching, it's likely... It's likely we're not gonna find what we're looking for... Chances are, he might've..."

Bruce doesn't finish the sentence, already knowing that he was walking on eggshells with the blonde when it came to him, especially after right Tony's funeral...

While they had all healed up to the best of the abilities, in their hearts was where the wounds are still fresh.

"I don't care, I know he's not dead! He... He was just... Right next to me... I...."

"I know, Steve..."

The soldier's shoulders sag as he feels all motivation and hopes slowly seeps out his body. He collapses onto the chair behind him as the faces on the holograms taunt them. While a majority of them had been updated now- anyone who had gone with the snap had come back- not all of them were updated for the better.

'Tony Stark: K.I.A.'

"He's not dead... I just... I just know he's not..."

They all sat in silence. In front of them, while only a few haunts them, one hologram makes Steve want to sink further into himself. 

A headshot of an all too familiar face shines back at them, sharp eyes staring straight into the window of their souls. His lips curled in a smirk, almost sneering at them in their face for their failure. Bruce sighs and looks away as he enters new information under the file.

"It's been weeks, Steve. If he hasn't turned up now... Chances are, he won't turn up ever."

Steve looks at the eyes that taunt him beyond words. It's almost as if he's ridiculing the soldier, and at this point, he doesn't blame him if he was. 

He doesn't look too long into them as the pressure builds in his chest. He holds his head in his hands as he feels Bruce approach him and rub his back in support.

Steve shakingly sighs.

"God... What the hell am I gonna tell Pepper...?"

The text underneath the headshot changes one final time from a soft blue- a blue that has been there since the very beginning- to a deep, permanent red.

'(Name) Stark: K.I.A.'

Masterlist

Tagged: @unsolvetheheckoutofit

[fuckingthefictional]

Nice to meet you, Soulmate.

Derek Hale x reader.

Request: no

Warning: n/a

I had always wondered what it was like to meet your mate. Would it be like Scott and Allison when it was love at first sight. Instantaneous and full of a love that was so bold and strong and caused them both to act on impulse.

I often think about the little things. Like what they look like when they smile, or if they had little habits that they picked up during childhood.

But then the ‘what ifs’ kick in. What if I never find my made? What if they’ve already met the one for them? What if they don’t want to find me? What if I don’t even have one.

The last one would be false I suppose, I can hear the thoughts of my mate. They’re usually grumpy and frustrated, but that doesn’t matter to me. It’s my mate. Or at least that’s what I hope it is.

Let me tell you something, it’s one thing to have not found your mate. But it’s another when you’re not even in a pack and you had no friends. An Omega that’s all I am. A lone wolf. And if you didn’t know Omegas aren’t supposed to last long without a pack.

The past year or so had been full of more supernatural bullshit than Beacon Hills had seen in a long time. I was there protecting my fellow wolves from danger and harm- even if they didn’t know who their supposed ‘hero’ was. But regardless of that, here I am packing books away into my locker and try to keep a low profile.

If there was one thing I knew I was good at, it was being a wallflower. I noticed everything about everyone and yet always managed to stay out of the limelight. It was great. Lonely. But great.

The locker next to me slammed shut, making my body jump and my heartbeat spike up. The locker’s owner sent a confused and apologetic look my way, before walking off.

English. I used to love it- but now with the argent takeover in school. I hate it. Victoria Argent was a sneaky, stuckup piece of work. Who honestly made me anxious.

Although she’s sly, she’s clever and she knows it. The likelyhood of her finding out about my ‘condition’ was high. Especially with the full moon being around the corner.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t shifted before. I was born a werewolf- but being the runt I was abandoned. You had the shift locked down, even to the point of being able to shift into a full form (tail and all)

The problem with the full moon was my mate - or lack thereof. My instincts were constantly telling me that I needed to find my mate. Then everything would make sense. It’s as if my body was a magnet and it was being lead on a wild chase to find the other half.

“Miss Y/L/N!”

Shit. I was daydreaming again and not paying attention and the snake had caught you.

I raised my head up, putting myself fully in her gaze.

Act normal

“Yes Mrs Argent?” I replied sweetly, a sugar coated smile played on both of our lips.

“The answer Miss Y/L/N.”

Fuck

I racked my brain for any type of possible answer.

‘It’s about Lord of the Flies- what do each of the characters represent.’

The gruff voice was present again, but you could tell it was full of sympathy and genuineness.

‘Thank you

“The characters are split into 3 main areas: good, bad and middle ground. “ I racked my brain for the answer, “Ralph represents democracy and civilisation of society and the general utopia that Golding wants society to be. Piggy is the intellectual one, he’s out of the circle of stereotypes that a British boy should be, his worth isn’t noticed until the end of the book. Simon is the martyr and the only inherently good person- hence why he has religious imagery.” I sighed deeply, “Jack is the savagery that Golding knows is present in every person, Golding believed evil and impulsiveness is present in all our lives.”

An awkward silence fell over the room, I doubted anyone had ever heard me say that much in a single sentence.

‘You’re clever...I like that’

My cheeks burnt up in a rosy hue.

‘You’re being chatty today.’ I teased the person at the other end of the connection.

‘I can always go if that’s what you want.’

‘NO. Not what I meant!’

A deep chuckle resonated from the guy. Damn that was hot.

‘Thanks.’

My body froze up and I felt my hand smack itself on my forehead.

I can’t believe I said that.

I had a love hate relationship with coach, on one hand we had a no annoyance policy he stays out of my way I stay out of his and I get my work done. On the other hand, he was just plain erratic- you had sometimes questioned the possibility of a possession but eventually you had to cut it out. He was just batshit crazy.

“Y/L/N! Get your ass over here now!”

Speak of the devil and he’ll appear

Jogging over I braved myself for the conversation to come.

“Yes Coach?”

“You get free choice of the trail you want to run today. So pick one, get back to me and then set off.”

I wondered for a few seconds, how far I could stretch this. I had double Phys Ed.

“I’ve got my mind set on the beacon hills reserve, if that’s okay coach?”

A deep, gruelling sigh resonated for the teacher. “Ugh fine. I know you’ll come back, but if you don’t I’m sticking you next to Greenberg for the rest of your school career.”

With the permission granted I began my journey, I loved the freedom of running.

Granted it wasn’t in wolf form (and nothing could beat running in wolf form) but I still loved the sensation of the breeze on my skin and the cool air whipping through my hair.

I focused on the pounding of my shoes on the leaf covered ground, I had not a care in the world (which was rare) and I let my senses take me wherever they wanted.

I kept running for about 30 minutes, before stopping at a rather crispy looking wreck of a building. It was spectacular.

It was charred black and half of it was completely burnt down, the windows were gone and the frames only held the ghosts of the people who lived there before. It was a site of grief and a story of loss.

I didn’t know who lived here previously, but I felt myself sympathising with them massively. I knew what loss was like, and what it could do.

I also didn’t know what possessed me to take a deeper look into the wreck of the house, but my body worked on autopilot as it began to charge up the stairs.

“This is private property.”

Shit.

The man stood there was gorgeous, he had a well built body and his muscles pulled taunt through his jacket. His expression look angry and my adrenaline slowly drowned in a pool of pure anxiety.

“Shit indeed.”

My eyebrows rose into my hairline- shock coating my entire being, I swallowed “you’re him.” I pointed pathetically as he took a large step forward.

“The names Derek. Derek Hale. Nice to meet you soulmate.”

[codewordpumpkin]

Pinky-Promise (A Lizzington crack-fic that unintentionally turned serious)

Her phone buzzed and lit with the name Nick’s Pizza for the umpteenth time—which she silenced with practiced ease and efficiency, barely giving it a glance before returning her attention to the open file on her desk.

Some might say she was being childish. To them, she would say:

The man killed my father.

That would be sure to shut them up.

And besides, if he was truly calling because of an urgent matter, there were other ways to get in contact with her. So far, there had only been one text, and it had consisted of only one word: Lizzie.

When guilt began to fester in the pit of her stomach, she had to remind herself that the only one who should be feeling guilty here was him. Regardless of how many times he called her or sent her ominous texts of her name, she would continue to ignore him. And when ignoring him became no longer possible, she would continue to hate him.

The self-reminder served to boil her temper from annoyed to angry, and when the distracting vibration began once again, she was about ready to smash the device to bits. But just as she gripped her phone with an intensity that was probably more damaging to her own hand, the unknown number on the display had her answering with a hesitant, “Hello?”

“Elizabeth.”

“Dembe?”

“Raymond would like to speak with you.”

“Does he have a new blacklister for us?”

“… No.”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “Well, until he does, please tell him I’m busy. Thank you, Dembe.”

“Eliza—”

She winced, as she hadn’t meant to hang up on him like that. But what was done, was done. At least she had gotten her message across—as if the ignored calls hadn’t already been a huge hint.

Although she didn’t know how long this reprieve from Red would last, she was determined to use the time to catch up on her neglected piles of paperwork. She had just gotten a rhythm going when she was startled by the sound of a knock, ink now smudged on both the sheet and her hand.

“Yes?” she called out, using a tissue to dab at the fresh stains.

“Elizabeth.”

Her head snapped up at the deep voice. She frowned when she saw Dembe, standing tall and firm in the now open doorway of her office. It hadn’t even been thirty minutes since they last spoke; why was he here now? And where was Red? Despite the grudge she was determined to hold, she began to worry, wondering if something had happened to the infuriating man. Was he hurt? Had someone taken him? She was going to kill him if he had let Madeline Pratt play him once again—singular talents be damned.

She didn’t know what to say except, “What’s wrong?”

Dembe opened his mouth—then closed it. Clenching his jaw, he blinked, and blinked some more, all the while remaining silent and looking as bewildered as she was starting to feel.

Then, she heard it—what it was, she wasn’t exactly sure, but it stuck out in the tense quiet of the small room. When they both failed to acknowledge it, however, it repeated itself more loudly this time, and she recognized it as someone clearing their throat.

Dembe sighed. “Raymond.”

A few moments of… nothing passed before the man himself graced them with his presence. He shuffled almost meekly and stopped once he was just barely inside her office.

Immediately, she noticed there was something off about him. He didn’t look physically different, as far as she could tell; the fedora, the three-piece suit, the polished shoes—it was all there. But something in his demeanor made him seem… small. Where was the man whose soul and spirit was greater than life itself?

Because this wasn’t him.

“What’s going on?” she said, trying to hide her concern behind her neutral tone.

“Raymond wanted to see you.”

“Did not.”

She felt her brows climb up her forehead, taken aback by Red’s petulant outburst. Cocking her head to the side, she noticed the way his gaze had moved from his feet to the wall, staring at nothing in particular. His chin was high and proud, and his mouth was pursed in a tight pout.

“Okay,” she slowly drawled, unsure what to make of the situation, “well, as I told Dembe earlier, I’m busy, so unless this is about work…”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Her temper flared.

“If you’re here for no other reason than to waste my time, you can leave,” she snapped, unconsciously tightening the grip on her pen.

To her utter shock, a hot flush rose on his cheeks—something she had not witnessed. Ever. Even when she had confided to him about her forced sex-life with her fake husband. Even after it had been made painfully clear that he had seen parts of the surveillance feed that featured said sex-life with said husband.

She sighed. “Why are you really here?”

This time, it was Dembe who cleared his throat. “Raymond wanted to see you.”

“So you’ve said, but—”

“It’s not my fault. Dembe dragged me here.”

“That is not true, Raymond, and you know it.” She was glad she wasn’t on the receiving end of that burning glare. Even Red seemed to cower at the force. “I brought you here because you were upset when Elizabeth refused to speak with you, and then you—”

“Did not.”

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” She stared down the two men. “Somebody start talking. Now.”

“Raymond was injected with something during a meeting with an associate.”

“Injected? With what?” she exclaimed, admittedly louder than she would have liked.

“Unknown.” He paused. “But the effects… It seems…” She had never seen him this flustered before. “He has essentially turned into a child.”

“Hey!”

“A child?” She laughed uncertainly. “Is this a joke?”

Dear God, let this be a joke.

He shook his head.

She gulped, her throat suddenly parched. “Well, how long until the effects dissipate?”

“Unclear.”

“Unclear?” she repeated, sounding incredulous to her own ears. How was he so calm? She was two seconds away from having a panic attack! “What about the person who injected him? Where is he? Or she?”

“Dead, unfortunately.”

“Dead,” she exhaled shakily, “okay. It’s okay. We’ll…”

She came up blank.

What the hell were they going to do?

“The good news is…”

“Yes?” she said, eager for anything that might be considered good news at this point.

“His memory appears to be fully intact. He is still Raymond—just… childish.”

“Right. Okay. Yeah, that’s good.”

“Stop talking as if I’m not here!”

Ignoring him, she asked Dembe, “What do we do? Just wait it out?”

Surely, there was a plan far more complex than that. Surely, he—

“Yes, for now,” he replied seriously. “I am going to try and get answers. While I do, you will need to watch him.”

“What—like babysit him?”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” the man-boy huffed.

“Can’t you just choose someone from the hundreds on your payroll?” she continued.

“He wants only you.”

“Do not.”

She was going to cry. Soon. She could feel it.

“Okay… Okay.” Aggressively rubbing her temples to avoid pulling out her hair, she tried to calm herself down. Taking a deep breath, she asked, “Do you need the task force to help with anything?”

“Not now, but I may need some assistance later.”

“Keep me updated, please.”

He nodded, then turned to Red, who was evidently still grumpy. “Will you be all right?”

“I’m not a child,” he said haughtily, only to prove otherwise by pouting like a duck.

“Of course.” To Dembe’s credit, he didn’t break down laughing. But she swore she detected an amused glint in his dark eyes when he wished her, “Good luck, Elizabeth.”  

For the first time, she was annoyed with the stoic man.

All too soon, he was gone, and she could no longer stare blankly at the door, hoping he would return and retrieve his well-dressed child.

Covering her face with her hands, praying this was all just a terrible dream, she hesitantly peeked through her fingers.

It wasn’t a dream.

“Um…” She could feel the panic begin to spread again. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

Without waiting for a response, she ran out of the suffocating room and didn’t stop until she crashed into someone and nearly fell on her ass.

“Whoa, Keen!” He grabbed her shoulders and waited until she could stand on her own. “You all right?”

“Ressler,” she panted, unsure if it was due to the run or the panic, “R-Red, he—”

“Calm down,” he said, rubbing her arms in a way she assumed was meant to be soothing. “What happened? I know Reddington’s fine because I saw him stroll into our office… Unless… Did he have a heart attack or something? Do we need to call an ambulance? Keen—”

She shook her head, willing him to understand what she couldn’t seem to say. “No, no, he’s fine—well, not fine, but—oh, God, Ress, I can’t believe this is happening—”

“Shh, Liz,” he pulled her into a hug, “look, whatever it is, it’ll be fine. Just tell me what’s going on, and—Reddington?”

Flinching, she withdrew herself from her partner’s hold and turned around just in time to see Red fleeing the scene with a pace that was nearly a sprint.

Sighing, she muttered, “I have to go.”

Dismissing Ressler’s concern with a forced smile, she walked over to Aram’s desk.

“Aram, can you pull up the security feeds? I need to know where Red is.”

“Mr. Reddington?” he asked nervously, already on task. “Is something wrong?”

“No, he…” She shook her head, unable to muster the energy. “He’s somewhere in the building. Find him, please.”

It only took a few moments to locate him on the screen, and another few minutes to locate him in person.

There he was, standing at the bottom of the stairwell in the dimly lit corridor, glaring at the ground with his arms crossed and appearing for all the world like a toddler about to have a tantrum.

“Red.”

He startled but pretended not to hear her.

“Red,” she said softly, thinking of the best way to approach, “what’s wrong?”

He tensed as she got closer, and he went perfectly still when she crouched before him, taking one of his hands in both of hers.

“Will you please look at me?”

He reluctantly did as requested.

“Why didn’t you stay in my office?”

“… Because you weren’t there.”

She didn’t know why she felt a pang at those words.

Tightening her hold on his hand, she said, “Why are you upset?” When he continued to stew in silence, she added, “Should I call Dembe to come and pick you up?”

“No!” Clearing his throat, he repeated, “No.”

“Will you tell me what’s wrong, then?” Awkwardly shuffling his feet, he tipped his head so the fedora would shadow his face. “Red?”

“You were hugging Donald.”

“Oh, that—that wasn’t…” Why did she feel the need to explain herself? “Why does that bother you?”

“Because you never hug me,” he muttered, voice so small it barely registered. “And I want you to hug only me.”

Was that what this was? The man who considered jealousy to be a base emotion was actually jealous?

But… was this coming from the man or the child?

“You’re laughing at me,” he whined, an impressive scowl on his adorably red face.

“No, I’m not,” she said, tugging down the corners of her lips that had curled up on their own accord. “I promise.”

“… Pinky-promise?”

She nodded, doing her best not to laugh. “Come here, Red.”

Rising to a stand, she opened her arms wide and patiently waited for him to step into her embrace. When he did, she reveled in the way his entire being seemed to relax, and she couldn’t help but smile when his own arms shyly came up to wrap around her waist. Neither of them seemed to care when his fedora fell to the ground, too preoccupied with the way his face was buried in the crook between her neck and shoulder. She would have also dismissed the quiet sniffle, but her now damp skin proved impossible to ignore.

“Red?” Carefully pulling away, just far enough to see his face, she was shocked to see that his cheeks were stained with tears. “Are you still upset with me?”

He shook his head, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands.

“Then, why are you crying?” she whispered, wishing she could make him feel better.

“I’m s-sorry.”

Frowning, she tilted her head. “What for?”

“For… f-for,” he hiccuped, “for S-Sam.”

Her heart stopped. And sunk. And she couldn’t breathe.

“I…” She snapped her mouth shut, not knowing what to say.

He glanced at her from beneath wet lashes, his lips trembling. “You hate me.”

“I don’t…” Her voice cracked. “I don’t hate you.”

“You d-do. But I did it f-for Sam… pinky-promise,” he insisted, a fresh wave of liquid salt staining his skin and scalding her heart. “He was h-hurting, and you’re not supposed to let the people you l-love hurt.” She didn’t realize she had closed her eyes—or that she had been crying—until she felt his warm fingers softly stroke her face. “Now you’re hurting… and I’m not supposed to let you hurt.”

Her nose was stuffed at this point so, swallowing past the massive lump in her throat, she exhaled a low breath through her mouth and blinked her eyes open. “I understand,” she said, her words barely a painful whisper. Grasping his hand and keeping it pressed to her face, she smiled a wobbly grin. “I forgive you, Red.”

His breath hitched. “You do?”

“I do. Pinky-promise.”

The tension seemed to drain from his body in the next instant. His shoulders slumped, his eyes drooped, and she could see that the emotional purge had taken its toll.

Without letting him go, she walked the few steps it took to reach the closest wall, and with her back against the cold surface, she slid down until her bottom reached the floor. She stretched her legs out in front of her and patted her thigh. “Come on, rest your head on my lap.”

Slowly, tentatively, he curled up on the floor and did as told, snuggling against her in a manner so innocent, she felt her heart breaking all over again. They stayed like that without a word: her, stroking his temple, his cheek, the short fuzz of his hair, and he, snoring softly and drooling on her pants.

She had no idea how long they had stayed like that, but her legs had long since fallen asleep when he woke with a start. He blinked groggily up at her, rubbing his eyes as if he didn’t believe what he saw.

“Lizzie?” He squinted, suspicious—of her or himself, she couldn’t say, but she was relieved to see that it was the Red she knew that was now staring up at her.

She smiled. “Hi, Red.”

After a few seconds of silence, he brought his arm up and covered his face, mumbling a disgruntled, “Must be dreaming.”

She didn’t dare move as he fell back asleep—except for her thumb, which resumed its soothing motions as she thought of all that had happened today. It wasn’t an overstatement to say that everything had changed. Even if he never remembered any of it, she would.

And she would forever be thankful for it—for the way a child’s vulnerability had allowed her to see past the enigma of the man: his jealousy, his grief, his guilt and love. Not only that, but it had allowed her to recognize her own feelings, her own love… for Red.

She forgave him.

She loved him.

And as soon as he woke up, she would tell him.

Everything was about to change again.

[ageofxail]

American Optimism

alfred  had  finally  entered  the  war  prior  to  the  end  of  1941 ,   provoked  by  the  japanese  with  their  bombing  of  pearl  harbour  and  attacking  his  navy .    he  gives  japan  some  credit  at  least ;    taking  out  his  naval  strength  allowed  them  to  proceed  in  their  pacific  invasions  as  they  pleased .    alfred  had  plans  to  deal  with  that .    but  first …

project  overlord  was  a  joint  plan  with  himself  and  the  european  forces  to  invade  german  occupied  france  and  liberate  it  from  their  grasp .    they’d  been  plotting  it  for  months  prior  to  this ;    false  transmissions ,   fake ��equipment ,   phantom  armies ,   putting  in  locations  they  weren’t  going  to  touch  so  the  germans  would  fortify  elsewhere .    in  all  honesty ,   alfred  was itching  to  jump  into  the  fight .    the  long  planning  and  the  precision  of  which  they  needed  to  ensure  a  successful  liberation  has  been  a  long  and  tedious  process ,   but  with  the  way  things  are  shaping ,   it’s  all  falling  into  place .

and  he’ll  be  on  the  front  lines  to  see  it  all  go  down .    but ,   was  he  expecting  a  positive  outcome  from  all  this ?

“   this  can  only  be  described  as  the  most  daring  thing  we’ve  done  as  united  nations  in  the  history  of  ever ,   ”   alfred  starts ,   grin  ever  apparent ,   “    but  we’re  more  than  ready  to  go  through  with  this .    this  is  the  best  fighting  chance  france  has !    and  i  get  you’re  not  exactly buddy - buddy  with  the  french  because  you’re  english  and  that’s  a  thing  for  you ,   but  the  french  and  i  go  way  back .    may  as  well  help  liberate  them  now  since  i  uh .    well …    ”

he  remembers  when  france  had  sent  for  help  from  the  americans  during  their  own  revolution ,   only  for  him  and  many  others  to  turn  a  blind  eye .

yikes .

“    regardless !   ”   he  jumps  up  with  renewed  optimism ,   grin  ever  the  wider  as  he  rests  a  hand  on  noel’s  shoulder .    “    if  we’re  gonna  kick  germany’s  ass  back  to  germany  then  this  seaborne  invasion  to  retake  france  has  to  work .    and  i  know  eisenhower  better  than anyone !    he’ll  get  us  there ,   no  problem .    ”

he ,   in  fact ,   doesn’t  know  eisenhower  that  well .    acquaintances  at  best .    but  who  needs  to  know  that ?    alfred  is  just  trying  to  incite  some  optimism  into  a  really  grumpy  englishman  who  doubts  the  power  of  this  operation .    and rightfully  so ;    with  the  way  the  german  tactics  are  slowly  falling  apart  and  their  resources  becoming  limited ,   the  daring  move  to  land  on  france’s  beaches  was  the  best  opportunity  they’ve  had  since  the  war  started .    there’s  no  turning  back ,   and  alfred  was  more  than  ready .

“   i’ll  tell  you  how  it  goes  from  the  front  lines ,   if  you’re  not  coming  along  to  see  it  through ,   but  i’m  telling  you :   we’re  gonna  win  this ,   and  we’re  gonna  liberate  france  from  germany .    ”

To be completely honest, not all of this plan sat perfectly well with him - he knew good and well that espionage, fake-out tactics and misdirection had long since been a heavy part of warfare, but to attempt to trick the Germans with something as ridiculous as inflatable tanks was... Questionable.

It was undoubted that his own apprehension was easily read, at least as far as Alfred’s exuberant optimism was showing. Noel’s shoulders weren’t quite straight and there was a quirk to his brow that made him as easily read as a book when it came to how unsure he was of this entire operation. At the very least, the sheer and pure confidence purported by the American did some to ease his worry. Hadn’t a similar sort of trick worked in America’s civil wars?

The mention of Eisenhower did strike curiosity. He was hardly anything resembling close to his own leaders, be that the members of Parliament, the Prime Minister or even the King. In fact, he could hardly name a single human of the Government he was close to at all. Ah, there it is - A very brief momentary shift in the man’s posture, enough to tell Noel that it wasn’t quite a true claim. Not perfectly at least, and it was a moment that was not reflected when Alfred gave his confidence call on the plan itself. 

This did wonders to ease his nerve, and its visible in how his shoulders relaxed and he shifted from watching the American’s expressions scrumptiously to observing the preparations going on before them.

“You know, Mr. Jones,” he started with a much more playful tone than the exploratory one he had taken for his previous question. “If we’re putting on the theatrics of attempting to scare the Bosch, why not use the inflatable tanks to our advantage. They weigh, what, a dozen stone? Two or three men could lift them with little to no effort.”

@ofchargers​