#they meant the world to each other even as they annoyed the hell outta each other idk what to say

[the-insouciant-scientist]

i was thinking about how caoimhe's style might've shifted post nemesis (since the main reason she avoided straight up mens clothing was bc cian wasn't there and now he at least kiiiiind of is?), and was struck by the tangential idea of her meticulously unpicking the lace from her chemise as a teen to sew onto a pair of mens drawers for him so that he could have something nice of his own, especially for when he couldn't dress outwardly fem for safety reasons

probably grumbling about it the whole while. he probably would've criticised her stitching too. neither of them would've said how much they knew it meant to the other

[babyboibucky]

Elevate Thy Hate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Not a day goes by that you and Bucky don’t argue.

Word Count: 4,642

Warnings: Cliché plot but slight angst, self-doubt and Bucky being a loveable idiot who sucks at communicating

A/N: Surprise one-shot because I just remembered I wrote this like...last year lmfao

MAIN MASTERLIST

-

You woke up feeling great and excited. The mission was finally finished, debriefings were done and reports have been submitted. Everyone was given an entire week to get some rest and since rest days were pretty rare, you truly looked forward to this day.

Before you could even saunter in the kitchen, you had already heard the chatters from your fellow Avengers. One particular voice irked you though but hell no, you weren’t going to let one Bucky Barnes ruin your day.

A chorus of good mornings greeted you as soon as you walked into the kitchen. Nat and Steve were on one side of the counter sipping their coffee while Sam and Wanda were finishing up their food. Tony and Bruce were out of sight, probably holed up in the lab doing experiments as usual. Bucky didn’t acknowledge you and quickly headed out of the kitchen, thankfully. You weren’t in the mood to pick a fight.

Walking up to the cupboards, you quickly grabbed you favorite cereal and proceeded to pour it out on your bowl. None came out though. You peeked inside bag and saw that only crumbs of it were left.

“Who the—“

Everyone was already pointing at Bucky when you turned around to ask. And of course, Bucky did it on purpose because he stood there at the end of the hallway, watching you with smug grin on his face.

“I hope your day sucks.” He said and flipped you the bird before turning around to walk away.

You groaned out loud, ignoring the amused chuckles from everyone else in the kitchen.

“I’m not stooping down to your level, asshole! I hope your day is average!”

The day was fortunately uneventful, except for your ruined breakfast care of Bucky. You were determined not to let that annoy you for the rest of the day. So far, so good. You could only wish it’d continue that way for the rest of the week.

-

“I told you not to rush!” Bucky snapped.

“I had him already! If you didn’t throw that goddamn smoke grenade I would’ve killed him!” You explained.

You could see Sam shaking his head in frustration. Bucky always had to blame something on you even though you weren’t the one at fault.

Bucky snorted, “He had a sniper for fuck’s sake! One shot and you’re dead.”

“Oh wow, says the one who got shot before I did.” You rolled your eyes at Bucky.

The two of you continued to bicker until Nat and Steve walked into the living room looking confused as you and Bucky exchanged insults while Sam remained sandwiched between the both of you on the couch.

“Who got shot?” Steve asked, glancing at you and Bucky alternately.

“Did we miss out on a mission or...?” Nat continued.

Sam chuckled, “We were playing Call of Duty and we lost.” He explained, taking the opportunity to get up from the sofa.

Steve still looked lost, something that Nat immediately picked up. “It’s a video game.” She explained.

“You two are fighting over a game?” He asked you and Bucky.

“They fight over everything.” Nat shrugged and walked out of the room with Sam tagging behind her.

“I’m outta here too, I’m so done babysitting the kids.” He muttered under his breath.

-

It was past midnight when you were in the living room alone, watching television while eating a Whopper. The lights were turned off and it was absolutely quiet in the compound, setting the perfect ambience for the crime documentary you were watching.

Not long after, you heard someone walk into the living room. It was only when your heard the familiar grunt that you realized who it was. Of course, it had to be Bucky.

“Are you eating a burger?” He asked incredulously.

“No, it’s popcorn. Of course it’s a fucking burger, are you blind or just dumb?” You snapped, your eyes still glued on the television.

“Dumbfounded that you’re eating that at this hour. No wonder you suck at cardio.” Bucky said as he sat down on the other end of the sofa.

“Are you body-shaming me?” You gasped.

Bucky snickered, “I didn’t say anything, I just said you suck at cardio.” He said, not looking at you.

You chose to ignore him and brought your attention back to the television. It was quiet for moment. You almost forgot about Bucky’s presence until of course, he decided to annoy you yet again.

“Can you pass the remote?” Bucky asked monotonously.

“No.”

Silence.

“This show sucks.” He commented.

You were focused on the show but noticed that Bucky was staring at you.

“Can you please pass the remote?” He asked again.

“In case you didn’t notice, I’m watching. I was here first. I hold the rights to control the remote.” You deadpanned, refusing to look at him.

There was a flash of black and gold right before your eyes. Everything happened quickly and the next thing you knew, Bucky was hovering above you, trapping you between his body and the arm rest of the sofa.

“The fuck, Barnes?! Get off of me!” You protested and started pushing him away.

“You gotta work on your reflexes, darling.” He said, finally leaning away from you, remote now in his hand.

He grinned triumphantly and switched the channel before placing the remote inside his sweatpants, “Want to switch the channel? Come and get it.” he taunted as he leaned back on the couch, opening his legs wide as he showed off how the remote created a tent in his sweatpants.

That was the remote...right? You mentally slapped yourself for actually thinking about what Bucky was packing beneath those pants and frowned.

“You’re an asshole and a disgusting one.” You told him.

“God, I hate you.” You muttered and crumpled the wrapper of your burger before throwing it at Bucky.

Deciding that you didn’t want to argue any further, you got up and left the living room, but not without telling Bucky again how much you hated him for making your life miserable.

“The feeling is mutual.” You heard him say.

-

The petty fights with Bucky went on and on during that entire week of rest. Despite the arguments, there were small moments of kindness shared between you and the soldier.

“Where are you going dressed up so nicely?” You asked Bucky upon seeing him walk into the kitchen wearing a leather jacket on top of a black shirt, dark, tight-fitting jeans and a pair of Doc Martens.

It was meant as an insult, of course. You took every opportunity to tease Bucky and his newfound sense of fashion. Said fashion meant his taste for very millennial outfits despite his old age.

“Grocery.” He replied as he went over to the fridge to pour himself a glass of water.

“Ooh, can you buy me Starbucks on your way back? I’ll pay.” You asked kindly.

Bucky just stared at you as he drank from his glass of water. He slammed it on the counter before walking past you.

“Not a damn chance.”

He did buy you Starbucks though. It didn’t shock you that much considering that the both of you didn’t hate on each other all the damn time. But what surprised you was that he brought you your usual drink and your favorite pastry too.

Steve must have forced him to do so, probably told his best friend your usual orders as well so you made a note to thank him as soon as they got back.

And thank Steve you did, but you didn’t expect the reply that you got.

“Oh was that the reason why Bucky kept bugging me about stopping by Starbucks?” Steve asked.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “What do you mean? I thought he told you I asked him to buy me Starbucks.”

Steve chuckled, “I guess now I know why he wouldn’t shut up about it.” he said, amusement laced in his tone.

“I don’t understand, Cap.” you said.

Steve just smiled at you in response before squeezing your shoulder, “Maybe you will understand soon.”

And with that, he left you feeling even more confused. You honestly didn’t understand the context of the conversation so you decided to just ignore it. Steve sometimes would say weird shit that none of the Avengers knew about. You dismissed it and thought that maybe it was Steve being a decade old, it was probably an old man thing.

You decided to make coffee for Bucky the following day, as a simple gesture to thank him for the Starbucks. He didn’t ask you to pay him back so you felt obligated to do a little something for him. You were an asshole to him sometimes, yes, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to give credit where credit is due.

Okay, so maybe you didn’t really hate Bucky. If you did actually hate him, the entire team would probably do something about it. Maybe force the two of you to talk things out. The hatred was all fun and games, everyone seemed to be amused by it too.

You still considered Bucky your friend despite the constant bickering. You had to admit, the arguments were pretty fun.

Although, you were wondering whether Bucky felt the same about considering you as his friend. Sometimes, his attitude towards you confused the hell out of you.

One day he’d eat the chocolate you’ve been saving up for cheat day just to spite you. And it definitely did because you ended up cursing him out loud when you saw him munching on it. The next day he brought you a new one. You were watching Netflix when he waltzed into the living room and threw a bar of chocolate at your lap before walking out without saying a word.

These exchange of small yet kind (and confusing) gestures remained unacknowledged. You didn’t know why but you also didn’t feel the need to talk about them. You weren’t going to lie but Bucky’s random acts of kindness would always put a smile on your face.

-

The vacation unfortunately came to an end and everyone had to go back to saving the world. All of you were gathered in the conference room with Fury for a briefing about the next mission. It wasn’t as big as the last one but it still required a lot of planning.

After explaining the mission, Fury let Steve take over the meeting to strategize.

Some were assigned to do surveillance around the parameter while some were appointed to do all the groundwork. Steve of course, just had to partner you with Bucky to do the actual infiltration given that your skills complemented each other’s.

You grinned and was prepared to roast Bucky’s ass when you turned to him and was met with a scowl. He shook his head with what you assumed was disappointment and turned away from you.

It was the first time he ever dismissed you like that. Sure, you were rude to each other but the look that Bucky gave you wasn’t a teasing one. He wasn’t mocking you nor frustrated. Bucky seemed to really hate the idea of being partnered with you. It was the first time that the two of you had to work together without anyone else. Usually, Steve or Sam joined but for this mission, it was just you and Bucky. Concluding that he must have woken up at the wrong side of the bed, you chose to ignore your gut feeling and focused back to Steve.

After the meeting, everyone else exited the room and started with the preparations for the mission. As you walked down the hallway leading to your bedroom, you heard some soft chattering coming from Steve’s bedroom.

You were supposed to ignore it until you heard your name, making you stop in your tracks.

“I can’t be partnered with her, Steve.”

Bucky.

“Buck, just go with it. I can’t be changing assignments at the last minute.” Steve explained.

Bucky sighed, “You know I can’t function properly when she’s around, let alone be partnered with her. She distracts me, Steve. Her skills distract me and I swear on our friendship, I would end up dying on this assignment.”

“You’re being overly dramatic, Buck. Just suck it up, pal. Do the mission and get it over with.”

“Steve, you don’t understand. I really can’t deal with her. Especially if it’s just the two of us. You know how much I fucking—“

“Hate me?”

You couldn’t help but interject in their conversation. How could you not? Bucky was complaining about how he couldn’t deal with you. It really hurt hearing Bucky say all those things about you. Sure, you were somewhat new to the team and you didn’t have superpowers nor years of training like the rest. But you worked your ass off to be in this position. And for him to say that he couldn’t function with you being around struck a nerve. The last thing on your mind was to hold back your teammates, that’s why you train twice, thrice as hard.

Steve and Bucky stared at you as if they’ve seen a ghost. It’s as if all their blood was drained out of their body when they saw you step inside the room. Bucky was about to say something but you decided to cut him off, not wanting to hear more about how he doesn’t want to be partnered with you.

“We don’t get along that well, I get that. But I honestly thought that our arguments were harmless. Hell, I consider us friends. I didn’t think that you actually hated me.” Your voice quivered because you were truly, deeply hurt.

“That’s not what I meant.” Bucky insisted.

“You literally said that you might end up dying because of being partnered with me, Bucky! Look, I know that I don’t have a super serum running through my veins. I can’t move things with my mind and I can’t come up with life-changing tech. I wasn’t trained since childhood nor have the perfect aim. But I worked hard to be in this team. I trained hard not to be a burden to anyone and I’m sorry if my skills aren’t up to your standards.”

What did you even do to Bucky for him to hate you this much?

“Don’t worry, I won’t burden you. Once this mission is over, I won’t bother you anymore. Ever.” You said before walking out of the way, ignoring Bucky when he had repeatedly called your name.

-

The ride to the location was filled with tension. Although everyone else had no idea what happened, they somehow knew that the tension had something to do with you and Bucky.

Thankfully, the quinjet was big enough for you not to end up sitting beside Bucky.

“You okay?” Wanda asked, noticing how restless you were.

What you heard definitely affected you in more ways than one. You kept on double checking your weapons, your gadgets and you even ended up doubting yourself. Were you really equipped to be an Avenger? Steve said that Bucky was merely overacting but what if he was right? What if you weren’t skilled enough to protect him or your teammates?

“That’s not true.” Wanda said out of the blue. “I didn’t mean to read your mind, though. Your thoughts are coming off too strong, kinda hard to ignore.” She said apologetically.

You softly laughed, “I should really be staying away from you.” You joked.

Wanda smiled and placed her hand on top of yours, “I mean it though. You’re amazing at what you do. I don’t understand why you’re doubting yourself about being an Avenger.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you offered Wanda a grateful smile. You noticed that Bucky had been staring at you the entire time but simply ignored him. You weren’t going to let him snap you out of your focus.

-

Once on location, everyone started to split up and listened for Steve’s orders through the comms. You and Bucky managed to get inside the base, all thanks to Nat and the Hulk who handled all the guards.

The building was completely empty when the two of you walked around in search of the hidden quarters where all the intel were kept.

Bucky whistled to get your attention, you turned and saw that he was motioning towards what seemed to be a regular brick wall. However, there were a few bricks out of place and upon examining it, you realized it was some sort of a secret door. You managed to figure out which bricks to push and thankfully, it didn’t take you long enough to open the door which revealed an old, steel elevator.

“We found the entrance, Steve.” Bucky said into the comms.

“Careful in there, there were suspiciously a few guards within the parameters. They all might be in there.” Nat warned.

You heaved out a deep breath before stepping into the elevator with Bucky trailing behind you. There was only one button in the elevator, a red one.

“Can someone scan the elevator and make sure this button won’t set off any boobie trap or something?” You asked nervously as you inspected the elevator for any hidden traps.

The comms cracked with Sam’s voice. “Button is safe although...” he trailed.

“Although what?” Bucky asked, examining the elevator as well.

“You’re in for a long ride.”

You frowned, “How long?” You asked.

“Can’t see. It’s way too deep.”

Sam was able to scan the entire base and true enough, the elevator would lead deep down into the hidden laboratory. How deep into the ground it was, none could tell. Neither Sam nor Tony’s technology could see through due to the lack of signal. Steve said it might be dangerous to proceed given that there were no other ways into the lab except for the elevator.

The lack of signal down there meant no communication.

“Guys, I don’t think it’s a good idea to continue with this mission.” Steve said.

“But we’re so close, Steve.” You said.

“I think Steve is right. It’d be hard to call for back up when things go south.” Bucky interjected, not even sparing you a glance.

You snorted. Bucky sure wasn’t overacting when he was complaining about your skills. He definitely didn’t trust you. You weren’t going to settle for that.

“We won’t need any back up.”

And with that, you pressed the red button and completely ignored everyone’s warnings through the comms. Bucky looked at you with disbelief and tried to press the red button again in hopes of halting the elevator. However, the brick wall had closed and the elevator started its descent.

“Why the fuck did you do that?!” He yelled and tried to search the elevator for some sort of stop button.

“We’ll follow soon!” Steve’s voice was the last you heard before your comms completely lost its signal.

“Christ, we don’t even know whether it’s the lab that’s down there!” Bucky said, continuing his search for anything that would bring the both of you up to the ground floor.

“I’m not as stupid as you think I am. All secret doors lead to a top secret room and no, we won’t be needing any back up because I am totally capable of taking down anyone who gets in the way.” You stubbornly replied and leaned against the wall.

You wondered how long the elevator ride was going to be. At the speed that it’s going, it wasn’t impossible to take at least fifteen to twenty minutes if the lab was really far down into the ground. Bucky’s frustration was evident from the way he kept on inspecting the elevator walls. At first it was easy to ignore but Bucky was becoming more and more desperate to find a way to go back up.

“Your desperation to stay away from me is just...astounding.” You said with a bitter chuckle.

“I’m finding a way to get out of here, not away from you.” Bucky explained calmly.

You shook your head, “You don’t trust me to keep you alive, I get it. But can you tone it down even for just a bit?” You spat at him.

Bucky pressed the bridge of his nose and let out an exasperated sigh, “You don’t need to keep me alive.”

“Of course not, you don’t need me to do so ‘cause you’re so capable. How did I not think of that?” At this point, you couldn’t stop the word vomit.

You had tons of things to say to Bucky to prove to him that you were totally good at what you do, that he didn’t need to underestimate you just because you were a new addition to the team.

“That’s not what I mean.” Bucky explained again.

It was starting to annoy you that the more you were becoming agitated, the calmer he was becoming. And he kept on telling you that he meant differently with his statements but he never really attempted to further explain his side.

“Then what do you mean, Bucky?” You pressed. “What did I ever do to you for you to hate me this much? Did I say something offensive? Do I have to train 24/7 for you to think that I deserve to be working alongside the Avengers?” You kept on babbling on and on and on.

Bucky rubbed his face with his hand, “I don’t hate you, okay?” He doesn’t even spare you a look.

All this time, he was looking at anything but you and it was really getting on your nerves.

“See? You keep on telling me that you don’t hate me but you can’t even look at me! I mean, if you really loathe me then own up to it! It hurts me more that you keep on denying it when you can’t even explain a damn thing. At least tell me why!” You were never an emotional person and Bucky knew that, so when he finally turned to look at you, he was surprised to see you on the verge of tears.

“Hey, hey...” Bucky coaxed and tried to hold you but you stepped away from him.

“Just please tell me why, Buck. Tell me and I promise to stay away. If you think I suck at being an Avenger to the point of irritating you, tell me so I can train my fucking ass off until you deem me fit to be an Avenger. If my jokes offended you, I’m sorry. If I—“

“It’s because I like you.”

“...what?”

Bucky Barnes...likes you? It’s as if the silence went on forever inside the elevator that seemed to keep going. How long were the two of you inside it anyway? You couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t know whether Bucky was simply fooling around with you.

“That’s not funny.” You said.

Bucky shook his head, “It’s not a joke.”

You stared at him doubtfully, “Explain.” You demanded.

Bucky licked his lips and let out a soft chuckle, “I’m an idiot.” He said.

“That doesn’t explain anything. If any, I’d think you’re simply fucking with me.” You pointed out and crossed your arms over your chest.

That seemed to urge Bucky to finally explain. “What you heard in Steve’s room was correct.”

“So you really hate me.”

Bucky groaned, “Let me finish, please?” He pleaded. When you remained silent, he continued to explain himself.

“You really do distract me during missions. Because you’re so amazing and I never doubted your skills. But I also get worried and I hate it when I see you in pain or wounded and it fucking distracts me. I didn’t want to be partnered with you because when I see you, I just...fuck. I like you that much. You kick someone’s ass and I’d end up watching you with awe that it’d cause me my own demise. That’s what I meant. That I’d probably end up dying because whenever you’re around, you have my full attention.”

The anger within you dissipated just like that. You could feel your face heat up from Bucky’s unexpected confession.

“But you’re an asshole to me.” You pointed out.

Bucky laughed, “Because that’s how I get your attention. You walk into a room with a kind-hearted super soldier, a witty bird brain and a few more intelligent men and yet I’d be the first one you’d acknowledge. With a snarky comment but still, attention is attention. It’s the only way I get to interact with you without feeling awkward. I suck at conversations, I mean, you heard me and though I was hating on you when I was merely blabbering to Steve about how much I like you.”

This time, you couldn’t hold back your laughter. All along, Bucky was finding a way to talk to you even though it meant constant arguments over the pettiest things. To be fair though, he really did suck at communicating.

“I’m sorry that it came across like that.” Bucky apologized sincerely. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us.” He admitted.

You shrugged, “Oh but it does. In fact, it changes everything.”

Bucky’s face fell.

“Because I think I like you too and I kinda want for things to change. For the better of course.” You grinned.

Bucky chuckled and scratched his forehead bashfully, “You think, huh? Not sure?” He asked and turned to you just as the elevator doors opened.

Indeed, it led to the lab where almost all of the targets stayed. The man nearest the elevator had his gun pointed at Bucky but before he could even pull the trigger, Bucky had thrown his knife at him without even sparing a glance and choked the next guy to attack with his metal arm before throwing him towards a group of armed men. He was just gazing at you with a smittened smile.

“Still not sure about liking me back?”

Impressed at his gesture, you smirked.

“Now I am.”

-

By the time Steve, Nat and Sam walked out of the elevator, the mission had already been done. You walked towards the trio and handed Steve a USB.

“All their data is already saved there. Wiped out their entire system clean too.” You told him, voice chirpy and all.

Bucky was right behind you, a couple of folders in his hands before handing them to Sam, “Lotsa confidential info in there too which includes our next targets.” he said and walked past Sam with a certain jump in his steps.

The three exchanged glances before looking around the entire lab. Men were scattered on the floor, most were dead and others heavily injured.

“What the hell happened here?” Nat asked, avoiding the injured men on the ground as she walked around.

“The mission happened, Nat. All that matters now is that everything has been resolved. I mean, everything.” You said meaningfully and threw Bucky a flirty smile before walking into the elevator.

He followed suit and saluted at the three before pushing the red button. The doors weren’t even closed yet when Bucky couldn’t hold back and quickly leaned to press a soft kiss on your lips. An action that definitely didn’t go unnoticed by the three. You couldn’t help but chuckle when you noticed their reactions before the elevator closed.

Said trio stood there dumbfounded and confused as hell. Early on, the tension between you and Bucky was felt by everyone. The kind of tension then wasn’t even a sexual one. It was so intense that Nat was actually expecting to see you and Bucky at each other’s throats when they got down to the lab.

“Guess that the long ass elevator ride did something. Whatever was in that elevator seems interesting. Wanna go check it out, Nat?” Sam asked suggestively.

Steve chuckled and shook his head.

Nat simply smirked and walked past Sam, “In your dreams, Wilson.”

-

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[glassartpeasants]

That ending was a stab on the heart from beginning to end I'm gonna steal bob 🏃🏾‍♀️

The One That Got Away

Shigaraki x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst, cheating, death

A/N: Don’t threaten Bob

~~~

The bed felt different after that night.

2 months ago you had caught Shigaraki cheating on you with someone random woman. You stood in the doorway just watching, trying to find the words to say but nothing came out. It’s only when you dropped your groceries and your present to him is when he noticed your presence.

*flashback*

“Shit! (Y/N) it’s not what it looks like-” He tripped over his words. You said nothing as you just looked at him, knowing that no matter how much you loved him that there was nothing that could ever make you forget this.

“Fuck just say something!” You were still silent as you dropped the groceries you were holding. It just wasn’t clicking for you. How could he do this to you? what had you done wrong?

“What did I do wrong?” Your voice seemed to echo throughout the room. Nobody said anything. Until she spoke up.

“Oh my god, Im so sorry! I didn’t know he was taken! Please forgive me.” The girl spoke as she jumped outta bed and started putting her clothes on.

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” Those words spilled from your mouth before you could actually say anything you meant. The girl had hugged you before saying she was so sorry a final time. Flipping off Shiggy on the way out.

“(Y/N)...i promise we can talk about this.” You just kept looking at him. Those eyes seemed to burn into his soul. He doesn’t think you noticed the tears spilling from your eyes. He was about to say something to you but you started to walk towards him. Thinking he was gonna get hit he just stood still before feeling your part of the bed dip.

He turns around to see you laying there, eyes still open with tears rushing down your face, your clothes of the day still on your body.

Shigaraki tried to put his arms around you but you had hit his hands back. and used your feet to push him to the edge of the bed while you laid clung to the wall.

*flashback over*

Thinking back on it you don’t know why you didn’t just walk away. Maybe you were to tired from being busy and running errands for him all day? Did you want it to be a bad dream and hope to walk up to realize nothing ever happened? Whatever the reason was, you weren’t sure but a part of you wishes that you left that night.

Now you sit at the bar, sitting far away from what use to be your boyfriend, not even taking a glimpse of him and he knew it. You just sat in the corner drinking and looking on your phone until a familiar smell approached you. 

“Oh hey Dabi.”

“Hey there (Y/N), why aren’t you hanging out with crusty over there? He keeps staring at you and the tension in here could be cut with a knife. It’s been two months and apparently everyone said i should ask what's going on.”

“Im not going near him at the moment. We’re on a break per say.” this seemed to peak Dabi’s interest as he leaned closer.

“Oh? Did crusty do something?  Your secret's safe with me, i swear on my soul.” What did it matter if you told Dabi? He already doesn’t respect Shigaraki so why not, plus, so what if that fuck didn’t want anyone knowing, he shouldn’t have cheated when everyone else was sleeping in the base.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you but, 2 months ago I caught Shigaraki cheating on me...” You felt small tears prickle the corner of your eyes. Bringing your hand up to your face you rub it away, hoping to ignore the pain that was banging against your chest.

“What a dick, wanna make him pay?” You look up at Dabi who had a huge grin on his face. You thought about it for a good few seconds before shaking each others hand.

“Once Shigaraki goes out on that mission today, we’ll talk more.” Dabi said before getting up from his seat and grabbing a drink from the bar.

You didn’t know what Dabi had planned but you hoped it would bring Shigaraki the same pain you felt that fateful night 2 months ago.

~~~

You sat on the ground in Dabi’s room as he paced back in forth, coming up with revenge plans. All of them sucked or ended up with you guys might going to Jail.

“New plan, everytime Shigaraki wants to hang out tell him you had plans with me and leave the room. You can go somewhere and i’ll go somewhere with you. Effectively ditching him.” Thinking, you try to come up with all the pros and cons this proposal Dabi shared with you. But soon your hurt over ruled the logical side of you and you agreed to it not a moment later.

“Great! Now all we need is for Shigaraki to ask to hang out with you. Don’t know how long that’ll take though...”

“I usually ignore him after what happened but sometimes he asks to hang out with me whenever its a slow day at the base or if he’s bored.”

“ Well guess we have to wait tell then huh?” Nodding your head, you get up before putting a thumbs up in his direction. You walked out of his room and see Shigaraki sitting at the bar. He must have finished his mission early. You rolled your eyes before sitting on the other side of the bar counter. You could feel shigaraki look at you through father.

“Hey....”

“.....”

“Look im sorry, a-and i know that doesn’t excuse what I did but please-” You got up before he could finishing his sentence as you walked towards your shared bedroom. Going in there use to give you comfort but now everytime you step into that room you see that fateful night over and over again.

You sat on the bed before hearing Shigaraki’s footsteps coming towards the room. Furrowing your brows, you ignore him as you put your shoes on. You needed a little bit of fresh air so you were planning on going to the local park to relax a bit. You weren’t a villain like the rest of them, you were just a simple civilian. Not that you minded really. It was peaceful not fearing for your life everyday and having the fear of failure not on your shoulders.

You didn’t really have a quirk so you just ignored the questions when people asked you if you had one. 

“Can I talk to you?” You were dragged back to reality when Shigaraki’s voice rang through your ears. Annoyed you just answered hoping that the conversation would be short. 

“What do you want?” You voice was snappy and you could feel the venom dripping from it.

“I understand that your mad. And you have every right to be but your not even giving me a chance to redeem myself and-”

“Redeem yourself? Why the hell would I do that? YOU cheated on ME. LIke hell im gonna forgive you so easily.”

“It’s been two months! What happened was in the past!”

“It was in the past my ass. How would you like it to see your lover in bed with another?!”

“I-”

“I felt like my soul died that day. I thought I was your only one! Only to find out that you slept with her! Was she a one time thing or were there more hookups?!” You stood up from the bed as your fists turned white and your anger slowly erupting.

“.....”

“TELL ME DAMNIT!”

“Three...there were three different occasions...” Now the tears were kicking in. You were hoping that it wasn’t true. What if there was more and he was only saying three just to ease your heart?

“Why? Why would you do this to me? What did I do to deserve this?” Your questions were like knives stabbing into Shigaraki’s heart. He wanted to tell you the truth, but he didn’t want your heart to hurt more than it already was.

“Im not going to ask again Shigaraki. You either tell me the truth or I will walk out of this base and never come back.”

“The...the first time it was a drunk accident, the second time Dabi had brought her to the base and one thing led to another. The last one was the same as the second one.”

“Did...did Dabi know about the affair?” You were begging, no pleading for him not to have known. You didn’t know if your heart could take it.

“Yes...” That was it. That was the thing that broke you. Walking up to Shigaraki you pushed past him before flipping him off and saying one final line.

“I would rather die that ever be with you again.” And with that, you left the hideout. You speed walked through the alleys to get to you parked your car. Your friends house was pretty far and you didn’t feel like walking in the dead of night were criminal activity was more active. 

Getting in your car, you turn on the radio and start breaking down. Your tears were blurring your eyesight as you put the car in drive. 

The streets weren’t busy except for the occasion car with some college students. Or drunk people walking along the sidewalk. The sound of the radio blasting songs that were supposed to be happy barley brightened up your mood as you drove down the dark highways.

All of a sudden a bright light hit your eyes from the right side. Some fuck must have had their brights on. But you had the right away so you went. All of a sudden a huge crash rang through your ears and the world became dark.

~~~

A ring came from Shigaraki’s phone. Looking at the clock he noticed it to be 2am. Annoyed he just decided to answer it.

“Hello, this is (hospital name). You were listed under a emergency contact for (Y/N) (L/N).” Shigaraki jolted awake as his hands reached his neck, standing up and already begun to pace the floor of his room.

“Yes did something happen?!”

“At 12am tonight miss (Y/N) was in a car crash. A hit and run to be exact. Their car was totalled after it rolled about 3 times from the speed that the driver hit them. A bystander of the accident called 119. They were in need of surgery immediately once paramedics noticed that they were crushed and bleeding out quickly due to a shard of glass that was stabbed in their chest.”

“Are they okay?!” The doctor on the other end went silent.

“Im deeply sorry for your lost sir. They died during surgery trying to remove the glass that was lodged in their skin. The police are on the look for the suspect. if you wish to see them were on (blank street). Once again, im sorry for your loss. Goodnight sir.” The phone went silent as the doctor hung up. 

Everything seemed to stop as the feared villain feel to his knees. Tears fell from his eyes as his body shook. He realized that now it was impossible to even try. And the last words you had ever said were ‘ you’d rather die than ever be with him again.’ Crying into his hands as his tears made a puddle on the floor.

I guess you took your words seriously.

[looooooooomis]

Somebody’s Baby

a stu macher x fem!reader one shot requested by the lovely @slasherscream​ 

I try to shut my eyes, but I can't get her outta my sight. I know I'm gonna know her, but I gotta get over my fright.

pairing: Stu Macher x fem!reader word count: 5.6k warnings: s m u t, longing, fluff, angst, oral, teasing, honestly I went off (my bad)

Stu Macher never really did stand a chance. At least not when it came to you.

He was putty in your hands, whether you knew it or not. He’d do anything for you, everything for you – even if that meant taking a backseat to Billy Loomis. He had to admit, it was gutting to watch you and Billy interact the way you did. The two of you were close – hell, the three of you were close – but there was something about you and Billy that seemed to just…make sense.

And, for the most part, Stu was okay with that. For the most part being the key words. Because, fuck, he’d be a liar if he said that tonight of all nights wasn’t bothering him. It was a night not unlike any other. The three of you had decided on a movie that Stu couldn’t really bring himself to care about all too much as you and Billy harped on and on about whatever it was the two of you were talking about, but it was your attitude that was rubbing him the wrong way.

You were distant tonight. You were cold. You seemed to smile real big whenever Billy would make a comment about the movie but if Stu said a goddamn word it was as though he’d sucker punched you in the gut. It didn’t feel angry, or at least he didn’t think you were angry, but there was something off about the whole damn thing and it was driving him mental.

You were tucked away in the chair with your knees curled up into your chest, frowning at a particularly bloody scene on the TV, a seemingly important one too, but Stu couldn’t bring himself to watch it. He was far too busy trying to discern what the lines on your forehead meant, what the furrowed brow and small, barely-there frown on that pretty face of yours meant. Had he unknowingly done something wrong? He didn’t think so, but stupid shit came out of his mouth all day long so, he supposed, it wasn’t impossible.

But there was a niggling feeling in his gut that told him that couldn’t be it. You weren’t mad or annoyed, you were cold. You were distant. It was as though you’d barricaded yourself away from him and done so with purpose. But why?

Why, why, why?

“It’s eight, Stu,” Billy muttered, far too engrossed in the movie to bother looking his way. “Didn’t you have to be at whatsername’s by eight-thirty?”

Glancing down at the time on his watch, Stu stretched out his long limbs and chanced another look at you only to find that your eyes were solely focused on the wall just beyond the television. For a moment, he remained still, waiting for you to do something. To look at him, to make a quip about his date, to do literally anything besides ignore him, but when your stare remained cast ahead, Stu sighed and stood up to his full height. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” He griped. “Think she’ll put out?”

It was meant to be a joke, something to lighten the mood or, at the very least, get you to crack a smile or roll your eyes, but when all you did was continue in your stare-off with the fucking wall, Stu’s stomach fell.

What the fuck was your problem tonight?

“Tact, fucker. Y/N is right here.” Billy rolled his eyes but shot him a small smirk. “And if she has a brain, don’t count on it.”

“Hilarious,” Stu mocked. “You guys need anything before I go? Some water? Some beer? Handful of condoms?”

“Fuck off,” Billy cracked a grin. “Don’t do anything stupid tonight.” He gave Stu a knowing look, being sure to keep his mouth shut around you in fear of letting anything regarding their little charade slip.

“Me?” Stu feigned hurt. “Never.”

Once again, he waited for you to say anything – a goodbye, at the very least – but when he got nothing in return, Stu merely rolled his eyes and walked out of the house.

You, on the other hand, remained stoic as ever as you blinked back a flurry of tears daring to spill out of the corners of your eyes. Your heart was in your stomach and your nails, which had been digging into your palms for the better half of the evening, carved out tiny half-moons into the sensitive flesh as you fought back every urge you had to scream and yell at the idiot for leaving you yet again.

The sound of the front door shutting was enough to make your body relax just enough for a few stray tears to roll down your cheeks. You were just so mad and so incredibly hurt all at once and, while you should have been used to it by now, it never got any easier watching that tall bitch of a man you’d grown to love over the years walk out for yet another date with another woman who was not yourself.

“You okay?” Billy asked, lulling his head towards you from his spot on the couch. He was the one person in the world to know your true feelings about Stu Macher and, while he’d never admit to it out loud, you knew he was oddly protective of you when it came to Stu’s idiocy, especially where his dating life was concerned.

You swallowed hard, not quite trusting your voice in fear of breaking down in front of him. So, instead, you remained silent and barely nodded. Was it hot in here or was it just you? You suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe as you sat in the dark room with Billy to your left and Stu now long gone. Deep breaths, you thought to yourself, squeezing your palms yet again. Deep, calming breaths.

You heard Billy sigh as he paused the movie. “Y/N,” he muttered, his tone careful, “how’s he going to know how you feel if you don’t actually say shit about it?”

Through the thick blanket of tears still gathering in your eyes, you focused your glare on the dark-haired man. “Fuck off,” you barked out, “like it’s that easy.”

“It is,” he shrugged. “What’s stopping you?”

“The idiot has a date every week, Billy,” you hissed, “am I supposed to show up with a bouquet of fucking roses declaring my feelings as his tongue’s down some other girls’ throat?” With your emotions at an all-time high, you stood up from the chair and raised a shaky hand to anxiously toy with your hair. “I mean does he have to parade his shit around here the way he does? It drives me nuts.”

Billy remained quiet and still as he watched you pace in front of the tv. He’d seen this frenzied look on your face only once before, but he knew what was coming next. It wasn’t often that you let your feelings finally bubble over to the brink of explosion, but if your current state was any indication, he was about to witness a breakdown.

Standing up to his full height, Billy quietly walked towards you and placed his hands on either shoulder, holding you in place as his brown eyes searched your own watery gaze. “Hey,” he cooed, brow puckered. “Stu’s a fucking idiot if he doesn’t see what’s in front of him.”

You chewed on your lip in an attempt to contain the sob desperately clawing its way up your throat. “I can’t watch him do it anymore, Bill,” you finally said, barely above a whisper. “It just hurts too much.”

It wasn’t often you were met with the soft side of Billy Loomis, but you cherished those moments – though so far and few between – each and every time. With a sigh, Billy wrapped his arms around your shoulders and tugged you close. He said nothing, though, because what could he say? Stu was a fucking moron when it came to you, he knew as much, but uttering those words at a time like this would only hurt you more.

You sniffed, your tears bleeding into the cotton of his white t-shirt. “I swear he—”

“Wow,” Stu’s voice rang out into the silence of the room. Snapping your head towards his sudden appearance, you froze in Billy’s arms, terrified of just how much he’d heard. At first, he seemed to just stand there for a second, staring at the two of you wrapped up in each other’s arms with a resigned, almost defeated look in his blue eyes. But all at once, in typical Stu fashion, that serious undertone slowly morphed into an almost amused sneer. “You two move fast, huh? Guess I should’ve grabbed those condoms.”

You rolled your eyes, barely hearing Billy’s sly comeback as you gently pushed him away. That heaviness in your chest that had made you cry only seconds prior was now a raging fire inside of your chest. The audacity this big, dumb, ass of a man had.

“Hilarious, Stu,” you griped, sniffing as you walked back to your chair. “Forever the comedian.”

“Hey,” he held his hands up in surrender. “No shame in it, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t interrupt shit,” Billy said. “And you know it.”

“What are you even doing back?” You snapped, glowering across at the idiot. “Or did you get bored of this one already?” You made a show of looking down at your watch-less wrist. “Five whole minutes, that’s got to be a new record.”

Stu pretended to laugh. “I forgot my wallet, ice queen,” he grabbed his wallet off of the table but continued to glare down at you. “What’s your problem tonight, anyway? You’ve got a stick shoved so far up your ass it’s practically coming out of your—”

“I wouldn’t go there,” Billy warned, flicking the play button on the remote. “Stop while you’re ahead.”

Stu barely glanced at him. “Nah, Billy,” he shrugged and took a seat on the edge of the couch closest to where you sat. “I’m curious. Can’t a guy be curious as to why a broad suddenly decides to give you the cold shoulder?”

“I warned you,” Billy merely shrugged.

“A broad?” You growled. “Get fucked, Macher.”

“What is your issue?” Stu reiterated. “I’m serious. You’ve been acting like a—”

“I’m not getting into this with you.” Pushing yourself off of the chair, you stormed passed both men towards the front door. “Enjoy your date, dipshit.”

Stu watched you go in utter confusion but before he could get up to follow you and continue this entire fiasco, Billy smacked him upside the head. “Leave her be, idiot,” he merely said, not tearing his eyes away from The Exorcist. “Let her cool off.”

“Cool off?” Stu asked with a furrowed brow. “Cool off from what? You two got that heated that fast that she stormed out because I came back inside?”

A long, deep, heavy sigh escaped Billy’s lips as he – yet again – had to pause the movie. His eye twitched in irritation as he surveyed the almost dopey look on Stu’s face. “I just want to watch this damned movie and it’s like a fucking soap opera with you two.”

Stu blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“You seriously don’t know, do you?” When all he received was a blank stare from his friend, Billy pinched the bridge of his nose and swore under his breath. “You’re even dumber than you look, you know that?”

»»————-¤————-««

It was a few hours later when there was a casual knock at your front door. Your parents were gone for the night and, as you glanced at the time, your stomach gave a nervous twist. It was nearing midnight and, while it was a Friday and you were by no means tired, just who would be knocking at your door this late at night eluded you.

Debating on whether or not to answer, you remained firmly situated on your couch as you eyed the front door in disdain. Maybe if you waited long enough, they’d move onto the next house and your life could be spared for another night. But, before you could get too much hope on the matter, another loud knock erupted from the door. This time, however, followed by an all too familiar voice.

“Hey dipshit,” Stu’s muffled voice rang out, “open up.”

“The fuck?” You whispered in confusion before making your way to the front door. Sure enough, as you unfastened the lock, there he stood. Stu Macher in all his glory. His eyes were somewhat wild as he silently stood on your front porch, soaking you in from all angles as his Adams apple bobbed up and down in his throat. For the first time in…well, ever, it appeared Stu was at a loss for words.

“Stu, what the hell?” You asked. “My parents could have been home do you know how late it is?”

“Yeah,” he simply said, not moving an inch from where he stood. “But this couldn’t wait.”

You blinked. “What couldn’t wait?” You asked, glancing over his shoulder to see if this was some weird prank that he and Billy thought up. “Come inside, you’re freaking me out.”

“I—” His words seemed to die on his tongue. “I just need to know if it’s true.”

You frowned. “If what’s true?” You racked your brain for a possible answer but came up empty. “Did something come up on your date or something? If it’s about that rumour with me and Matt Sewinski, I promise you that’s not true. The guy’s a creep.”

Stu shook his head but his eyes remained glued to your face, unblinking. “No,” he simply said, “and I didn’t end up going out with Heather.”

You wrinkled your nose. “I thought it was Sarah tonight?”

Stu shut his eyes in sheer annoyance. “Heather, Sarah, whoever the fuck it was,” he opened those blue eyes open again and the raw intensity inside of them made you take a small step back. “I didn’t go.”

You swallowed hard and suddenly felt a wave of nausea overcome you. “Why?” You gulped out.

Stu licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair. He was yet to step foot inside your house and between the maniacal look in his eye and the chilled breeze seeping in through the open door, you shivered absentmindedly. “I talked to Billy.”

Four words. Four tiny little words was all it took to make the room around you spin on its axis. A cold sweat broke out across your chest as you averted your eyes to the wall directly beside his head. Maybe if you didn’t quite look him in the face, you could get out of what was about to become an incredible awkward, painful situation. With your breath trembling, you swallowed again and tried to find your voice. “About what?”

Stu cocked his head to the side. “Y/N,” he warned, “cut the shit.”

Another painful gulp. Your throat felt like it was closing in on you as you stood there facing the boy you’d been in love with for as long as you could remember. You’d often dreamt of this day, the day where he’d finally realize your feelings only to have them reciprocated fully – but when you’d pictured it, Stu looked a lot less crazy than he did looking back at you now. But, even still, there was a glimmer of emotion shining brightly behind those blue eyes that made your breath hitch in your throat.

It made you nervous.

Worse, it made you hopeful.

“Stu,” you tried to find some conviction in your tone, but your nerves got the better of you. “Can you just get inside first? You’re scaring me.” Despite feeling as though you were going to faint, you managed to reach across the divide to yank him inside of your house. Locking the door behind you, you took a few even breaths before turning back around to face him. “What did Billy say?”

Stu ignored your question as he began to pace around your hallway. He was this tall, broad, string bean of a man on a regular day, but the mass of him tonight was all encompassing as he governed your foyer. “Seven years,” he began, his voice slightly shaky. “We’ve known each other for seven fucking years, Y/N. And I’ve hung on your every fucking word for all of six years, eight months and a handful of days, give or take.” He turned on his heel rather abruptly to face you. “But you liked Billy.”

You opened your mouth to respond to the first half of his statement before realization dawned on you. Grimacing, you shook your head. “Billy? He’s like my brother, where the hell did that come from?”

“You act like he hung the fucking moon, Y/N!” He exclaimed, emphatically. “What was I supposed to think?”

“What?” You shook your head in sheer confusion. “Okay, one thing at a time. Billy is one of my best friends. So are you. What’s the problem here?”

“The probl—?” Stu laughed. “The problem? For seven fucking years you’ve been the first person I think of when I wake up and the last person I think of before I go to sleep. And literally every fucking second in between. And this whole goddamn time, I thought you were in love with Billy.”

You were reeling. You weren’t entirely sure if your heart was beating as loud as it appeared to be, but you were sure he could hear it from where he stood a few feet away. “I—” You tried to form a sentence – any sentence – but nothing seemed to suffice. “But the dates?” Were the only words that seemed to spill from your lips. “You were dating – are dating – constantly.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “wonder why.”

You weren’t sure when you’d done it or just how your legs managed to carry you back into the living room, but you found yourself falling against the arm of the couch in an almost dream-like state. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything,” Stu fussed. “I want to know if what Billy told me was true.” He walked up to you and searched your face. “Do you love me?”

You didn’t answer at first. You couldn’t. Not when it felt as though your lungs were about to explode in your chest. You must have opened your mouth a dozen times over, each time with the promise of a formative sentence, but nothing seemed to suffice.

Suddenly Stu’s hands were on you. Squeezing your thighs with those large hands, he demanded your focus as he swooped down and caught your eye. “I need you to answer me, doll.”

You were so focused in on the overwhelmingly glorious feeling of his hands on your thighs that you forgot to answer. Hell, you forgot to breathe. It wasn’t until you slowly managed to tear your eyes away from his hands to trail up the rest of his body towards that striking face of his, that you found your words.

“You came to my house at midnight. You’ve been the one going on dates like it’s a part time job. You’re the one claiming to have been hanging on my every word for the better half of our friendship so, no, Stu, I’m not saying a fucking word until you tell me what it is that brought you here this late?” You pushed his hands off of your thighs and stood up. “All I’ve done this entire time is sit idly by and watch you carry on like Heffner at the Playboy Mansion. You want me to answer you? Not until I get a—”

Your answer came in the form of a kiss.

On instinct, your hands tangled through his hair as his tongue slid along your bottom lip. He might have been on your shit list at the moment, but fuck he was a good kisser. You’d been thinking about this very moment for as long as you could remember. Longer, even, and god was it everything you thought it would be and more.

His hands were on your face at first, cradling it gently as he backed you into the sofa, and then they were on your neck, holding you close as his tongue massaged against your own. Shivering beneath his touch, you instinctively leaned into his broad chest as the pair of you continue to stand there, kissing like your lives depended on it.

“Stu,” you mumbled against his lips. “What are we doing?”

“Kissing” he rasped out before finding your lips yet again. “Bed or couch?”

Every red flag in your head was going off to stop this and properly talk about what was not so subtly insinuated only seconds prior, but he just felt so good and you’d wanted this so so long. “Bed,” you told him breathlessly, without a second thought.

Stu wasted no time in leading you towards your bedroom, kissing his way down your neck as you stumbled down the narrow hallway. Obviously losing his patience about halfway through, he pushed you up against the wall and trailed sloppy kisses down your jaw and neck. “I love you, if that wasn’t obvious.” He breathed out. “Like, a lot.”

His words struck you blind. Ever the dutiful distraction, however, Stu’s hand trailed down your sweatshirt before settling on the waistband of your pajama shorts. Your body reacted to the promise of his hand. Arching into him, you bit your lip and sighed in contentment as his fingers slipped beneath the band. You were already soaked. Your body responded to the man in a way you couldn’t begin to comprehend, and you weren’t sure you wanted to. And as his middle finger slid into your folds, instantly finding your clit, a soft moan escaped your lips.

“Is this the horny part of your brain talking?” You growled, tugging at the ends of his hair so that you had full access to his lips. “Or are you serious?”

“So fucking serious.” He hummed into your mouth. He pinched your clit, garnering a rather surprised hiss to escape from your lips as your entire body lurched forward. Hearing him chuckle, you popped an eye and began to pull his shirt over his head. When you tossed it across the hallway, his eyes met yours. “Do you love me?”

“Yeah, but I have bone to pick with you first,” you chided, doing your best to control your breathing as he quickened his pace on your clit.

He ducked his head down to bite your lip. “Unless it’s this bone,” he ground his hips into you, and you could feel his rock-hard erection even through his jeans. “It can wait.”

You laughed before you could think of stopping yourself. “Jesus Christ, you’re disgusting.”

He was smirking across at you. “You love it.”

Still grinning, you rolled your eyes before your lips took refuge on his neck. Which, as it turned out, was a massive turn-on for Stu Macher. Running your tongue along it and nipping at the sensitive flesh, was getting him incredibly riled up if the bulge in his jeans was any indication. Biting down on the sensitive flesh, the groan it drew out of his mouth was enough to make your already wet pussy clench around his fingers.

“Fuck,” he drew out, sliding the finger that had been assaulting your clit only seconds prior inside of you.

You let out a small moan of your own as you hurriedly got to work on his belt. “Why the fuck wouldn’t you just tell me how you felt?” When you’d managed to practically rip it off of his waist, you wasted no time in unzipping his jeans. His cock sprung free within seconds.

“I thought you liked Billy,” he rasped out gruffly as you began to pump his cock with your hand. “What was I supposed to do?”

You wiggled free from the hand currently down your shorts and dropped to your knees. Looking up at him through your thick eyelashes, you raised your brow. “You could have asked me?” You reminded him, swirling your tongue around the tip of that perfectly girthy cock. The man might have been a pain in the ass but good god he had the assets to make up for it.

Stu braced himself against the wall behind you and threw his head back. Fuck, you were lethal with that mouth of yours. “Hindsight,” he breathed out.

You released his cock with a pop. “You’re an idiot.” Was all you said before getting back to work. With your hand, you circled the base of his dick and took the length of him inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip each time you made your way back up.

He grabbed your hair and gave it a firm pull. “Fuck,” he growled. “Keep going.”

You hummed against his dick, digging your nails into his thigh briefly before looking back up at him. “Or what?” He allowed his forehead to fall against his forearm currently stabilizing him against the wall. You knew you were driving him crazy, but he’d done the same thing to you for the last seven years and you were nothing if not a petty bitch when you wanted to be. “Say it again.”

He furrowed his brow. “Say what?” Realization dawned on him. “Fuck, baby, you keep doing that I’ll put a ring on your finger tomorrow.” Stu’s blue eyes were hungrily taking you in. How you’d managed to stay fully dressed as he stood there with his jeans around his ankles and his cock out was beyond him but, sure enough, that was his reality. “I love you. A lot.”

You dug your nails into his thigh again, and slowly licked up the base of his cock. “Hmm,” you hummed with a nod of your head, releasing it to stand up to your full height. His eyes were pleading with you to finish him off, but as you slinked up the wall and mirrored his hungry gaze, he surprised you by sliding his calloused hand up the side of your neck until it cupped your cheek. You were practically nose-to-nose as he slowly pinned you against the wall and, as he leaned forward and nudged your nose with his, a slow, lazy grin broke out across your face. “I love you, too.”

Slowly, you leaned in and kissed him. Unlike the deliberate make-out session you’d had minutes prior, this kiss was slow and methodical. When you pulled away, you kissed the tip of his nose and nodded towards your bedroom. “Get on the bed.”

Stu’s eyebrows shot up in amusement. “Pushy.”

You gave his dick a tug. “Go.”

He swooped in again and kissed you before haphazardly kicking off his shoes and jeans, punting them across the hallway as he backed you into your bedroom. When you were close enough to your bed, he broke the kiss to peel off your sweatshirt. Throwing it across the room, his hands were back on you within seconds, kneading and massaging your breasts before taking one in his mouth. Expertly, his tongue ran along your nipple before he began to suck and nip at them. Arching into his mouth, you fisted a handful of his hair and groaned as he pulled you in even closer.

“Stu,” you moaned, shutting your eyes momentarily as you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of his mouth on your tits. The man truly was a god with his tongue.

But you had a trick up your sleeve. A little payback, if you will. And this, melting into his mouth, was not part of the plan.

Hating yourself, you pushed him away. The back of his knees hit your bed and you watched as he fell back onto the soft mattress with a slight bounce. There was confusion in his stare as he sat there ogling you. “Get over here,” he beckoned, voice low.

Slowly, you shimmied out of your pajama shorts, feeling his eyes on you every step of the way as you stepped out of them and walked towards the bed. Towards him. Sitting himself up, he opened his legs so you could step between them. His hands were slow as they trailed up and down your thighs, hips, and waist before sliding around to your ass. Squeezing and pulling at your cheeks, he pulled you closer and placed a tender kiss to your sternum before craning his neck up to peer up at you.

“I always knew you had a thing for my ass.” You raked your fingers through his hair, pushing it back and away from his forehead as you grinned down at him.

His answer came in the form of another firm squeeze of your ass only rather than stop there, he tugged you closer until you were tumbling onto his lap. You gripped his shoulders as you straddled his lap, subtly grinding your hips so his erection settled between the folds of your pussy, rubbing against your clit.

“Lay down on your stomach,” he uttered. When he noticed your apprehension, he raised a single eyebrow up at you and squeezed again. “Do you trust me?”

You nodded mutely and did as you were told. And, before you knew it, you were sliding off of his lap to lay stomach-down on your bed. You felt the bed shift as Stu crawled towards you but before you could question him on it, you felt his hands slide beneath your hips to pull you up so that your ass was raised in the air.

“What are you—”

Your words died in your throat as you felt his tongue glide along your pussy. Gasping, you nearly buckled forward, but caught yourself on your pillow. You were face down, buried in the comforter and pillows of your bed, but with your hips bent at the level Stu had moved them into, he had full access to both your pussy and your ass. You could feel his fingers kneading into your ass as his lapped up your every fold until settling on your clit. You groaned and buried your face into the pillow as he began to suck your clit. You could hear how wet you were as his mouth imbibed every inch of your pussy.

His name tore out of your throat and your knuckles whitened as you gripped the bedsheets. The veins in your neck swelled with every laboured breath you managed to draw and you found yourself bucking into his mouth as an orgasm rippled through your body. You moaned and groaned and cursed into the bed but Stu’s mouth was relentless. And as he pinched your clit all the while still lapping you up, you all but collapsed. When he was sure you couldn’t take another second of torture, he pulled away and allowed you to collapse onto the bed. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips were parted as you attempted to catch your breath. With a quiet chuckle, he kissed his way up your spine, grinning against your skin as your legs continued to twitch.

“Can I?” He asked, his cock at the ready.

Nodding, you gasped when you felt him slide inside of you. He bit down on your shoulder as he thrust into you and his quiet moans and unsteady breath was enough to kill you. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You feel so fucking good.”

This was a high unlike any other for Stu. Watching his cock slam into you, watching your ass slap against him with every wild thrust and pump he provided and feeling just how fucking wet you were for him – this was the unattainable high. You were the unattainable high.

He reached around to play with your clit again. He could feel it throbbing between his fingers and, feeling you tremble made him weak. Quickening his pace on your clit and steadying his thrusting to ensure you finished again, Stu bit down on your earlobe. “Come for me, baby.”

Your answer came in the form of another thick, guttural moan as you came undone yet again. He watched you quiver and shake and the vision of it was enough for him to quicken his thrusts. Groaning, his hands fell from your clit to hold your hips as he pounded into you. The sound of your cheeks slapping against him was drawing him closer and closer to one hell of an orgasm and as you let out one last breathy moan, his whole body seemed to erupt in fire.

His breathing was heavy as he came inside of you and the more sensitive his cock got with every thrust, his pace slowed. For a moment, neither of you moved. Instead, he allowed his forehead to fall back against your shoulder before he slowly pulled out.

“If I’d have known that’s what I was missing, we should have had this talk a lot sooner.” You teased, earning a playful smack to your ass from the man. Grinning, you flopped back onto the pillow and stared up at him. He was leaning on one arm as those blue eyes scraped over every inch of your face. You could see the words he wanted to say splayed out across his face and found yourself reaching up to brush his hair back and away from his sweaty forehead.

“Right back at ya,” you smiled.

Fuck, you really were in love with the idiot.

[ducknotinarow]

[2k3 Don Raph]

Donatello was the quiet one; passive, sensible, preferring to keep to himself in his lab all day, but it didn’t mean he didn’t get angry. He carried a weight he refused to mention to his brothers, never speaking of the trauma’s inflicted upon him. The nightmares of the other World where they all died. The second mutation that nearly killed him. The brain probing when those aliens came for Professor Honeycutt. He brushed it all off, bottled it deep down and kept working. If he focused on a new project, something to tinker with, it meant he could rationalise the fears that crept down his spine.

But he couldn’t keep it like that all the time. Some nights he’s wake up from a terror, unable to breath or focus - it’s why he’d stay up as much as possible. When the lair went too quiet, he’s fly into a fit of panic, needing someone to bring him back to the real World and remind him everything is okay. And some nights, not amount of tinkering could help keep his building frustrations at bay. The sound of arguing and fighting from the living room had gotten on his nerves, Don no longer able to tell who’s voices were yelling; he just knew there was voice. He reached back and tugged at the tails of his bandana, tightening the knot uncomfortably. He couldn’t deal with it tonight.

So he headed out of his lab, bo on his back as a frown to his face. No duffel bag tonight, he didn’t have a plan; he didn’t really want to think either. He hunted down Raph, thankfully catching them before they headed out for the night. Grabbing their wrist, he offered a sheepish smile,

“Hey Raphie?” And despite the frustrations he still speaks so softly, as if everything was fine, even when he knew it wasn’t, “You mind if I join you on patrol tonight?”

Usually Donatello only went out when all four of them were going, or for trash diving. But an actual patrol? Something was up, even if Don refused to open his mouth,

“I could do with some fresh air, you know, clear my head,” He gives a faint laugh, lets the metaphorical mask slip slightly as he adds on, “And maybe vent out a few frustrations...”

He trusted Raph, which is why he brought it up. Don even making a quick biting motion with his beak; though he didn’t really bite to initiate playfights with Raphael anymore, it a rare occurrence now, he still hopes his twin knows what he’s hinting at right now.

| Muse Interaction

"blah blah blah you hav'ta Raph blah blah blah order order. Oh why dontcha take all the crap comin’ outta yer mouth and shove it Leo!” Rapheal went out to holler out, voice roaring out against the walls of the living room. Oh wow and Raph and Leo argument what a surprise would say no one in this family. They often were the ones getting into spats like this and well annoying at best it was one of the more just annoying ones breaking out between them. Of course Leo just stood there arms crossed over his plastron staring down at Raph and it just made the blood in his veins boil hell not even it was like they were set a blaze as he went on to brush off Raph’s comment speaking in an even down as if he was dealing with a child simply throwing some tantrum. Oh that just made it even worse.

It took everything inside of Raphael to not reach out and grab Leo by the shoulder when they blew him off just now. Turning on their heels lecturing Raph about his outbursts. Yeah he had that damn temper sure but all he was hearing was unlike himself, Leo wouldn’t stoop as ‘low’ wouldn’t be baited as if that what Raph was doing pulling mister perfect down to ‘his’ level. He could so easily reach out turned them around and sock them square in the face, gritting his teeth grinding against each other as Mikey was standing off to the side watching this all going down as if this was just something better to watch. Raph bawled up his hands and growled under his breath. Between the two of them not taking him serious reducing this out burst to nothing but that of a child’s whining just pissed him off even further. Arm swung up and slammed down so his fist smashed into punching bag near him. Able to at least exercise that much control in his action, as the fabric of the bag torn a little for some sand to start spilling out, he’ll patch it up when he gets back. 

“If ya care i’m headin’ out for the ‘ight better ta deal with the loser runni’ the city.” a slight snark towards Leo Turning away to leave as the tension in the room followed Raphael on his way out. Grumbling under his breath to himself complaining about well Leo of course. As he went about making his out of the lair and to the tunnels so he could leave. beating the shit out of whatever group of idiots he came across first sounded like the best way to deal with his building frustration. Call it patrol but nah it was just him needing to get his anger out, maybe call up Casey well he’s at it to join him. Well he would have done that till hearing Don’s voice.

“Hey Raphie?” 

Didn’t matter how pissed off he was he just halted the second he heard ‘Raphie” force of habit maybe, he was the only one he was mad at right now anyway besides Don only used Raphie when they needed something. Maybe Don’s calmer tone helped to not get a snippy response out of Raphael just now. No verbal answer just turning a bit to show they had his attention.

“You mind if I join you on patrol tonight?” 

Raph sort of needed a moment to understand what they just asked, he looked them over they didn’t have their duffel bag so it wasn’t that Don wanted to go out and scout for supplies. Also it was just Raph heading out, not so much a real patrol but Don was smart he would be able to know what was up from the fact he was leaving off on his own like this. Hmm something was up with Don it seemed. A bit like Leo in that they didn't express emotions all that much but Don's issue was he kept it to himself, bottled it up.

“I could do with some fresh air, you know, clear my head,”

As Don let a laugh slip out just now Raph offered a tilt of his head, oh okay someone was dealing with a lot themself it seemed. Maybe it was the twin thing or just how close he was with Donnie over all but yeah he could see that mask Don wore was slipping a little here. Guy was dealing with something and like himself? he needed to vent it out.

“And maybe vent out a few frustrations...”

If them saying as such wasn't enough to prove Raph's thought the motion of biting the air just now? yeah that sure was enough to sell the point. Raph knew better than anyone in the family that Don could grow just as frustrated as he could but Raph tend to explode over it Donnie? he kept it in so long that words just were not even of use for him.

"hmm a good ol' brains and brawn team up?" Raph went to suggest letting a smile crack over his beak just now. Yeah he was still pissed off at Leo and annoyed with Mikey but well getting out with his twin brother? Tossing in it was for Don's own sake so it kind of distracted Raph from his own anger in the moment. Walking over as he near enough slammed his arm over Don's shoulders tug them in his way already walking to lead the way to the nears way out of the tunnels. "le's go brainiac, we got all night to get some skulls crushed then." chuckling a little eh what could he say he liked spending time around Don and getting them out of their lab? well that was miracle of it's own though there was the underlining concur he just wasn't expressing in this moment. If Don was up for 'venting his own frustrations' then hmm yeah something must be going on with him. "Was just gonna ask Case ta come out with me, but Don? hell I wanna see how scared we make some crooks." trying to hype his brother up a little bit. "Oh I got all the best places in mind we can check, pft these humans are stupid they go back to lotta of the same joints." okay maybe Raph wasn't as angry now he was kind of getting a bit excited over watching Don let lose. Letting go of them once getting to the ladder as he near hop to start climbing his way up, pushing over the cover minding to check before he popped out, peeking back in to hold his hand out "come on Einstein move ya shell. or i'll leave ya behind." no he wouldn't but Don didn't need to know that, well he likely already did. "oh know what lets go for Dragons even fuck maybe some foot clan dicks even. No need waste time on an easy fight right?" he started to egg on gauging just how far he might get to push his brother.

[cdarkheartzero]

Diary of a Security Guard

For the always wonderful Rissy @rissynicole who I promised this to for being just...amazing.

Prequel found here-

https://cdarkheartzara.tumblr.com/post/622506786343288833

Data log entry 6555

Been watching Zim battle his PAK for a few (days) now. It has been SO mentally exhausting just to see, let alone experience. But that determination to get his PAK legs working. Imma be honest, it’s downright inspiring seeing him spaz, spark and struggle just to get back up n’ try it again once he catches his breath.

He even got Skoodge trying to activate his- few of the other smeets too, actually. I can’t tell whether he knows it or not (he’s pretty oblivious to the world around him so I doubt it), but he has a lot of fans among the youngins. They might find him annoying (cuz let’s be honest here, he is) but he has this unique…. charm(?) to him. Little bastard just doesn’t know when ta quit.

I can see the stress and strain of his struggles are starting to get to him though. He just hasn’t been himself lately. Physically Exhausted. Less destructive (again- lemme be honest- I AM ALL FOR but under normal circumstances). Hasn’t been doing much eating or sleeping. He’s just so fixated on this that it’s basically taken over his entire life. Can’t tell you how many times I have found him in the incubation room the past few shifts, tryin’ so damn hard to stand on his legs he basically passes out.

The smeets should be sleeping now. It’s pretty late and I see all the other guards settling into their seats relaxin’. Now’s the time to piss around, the break we all deserve. Alas, I can’t get that little shit outta my head. The pain on his face. The dedication and exhaustion in his eyes. It’s been burned into my organic brain ever since I had to stun him the first time. I don’t think I have ever been that scared before. I thought… I thought I could have killed him. That he wouldn’t be there the next morning. That this little ball of chaos would be erased from my life. And it was worse than anything I coulda imagined.

I wanna do something for him. I know I shouldn’t. ‘Specially after all the shit he puts me through. And I really shouldn’t play favoritisms but I dunno. There is just something about Zim.

Now, don’t get me wrong. He drives me crazy. He’s a little demon spawn. A selfish little piece of shit. More than once have I seen him sacrifice a playmate to make a quick escape or use poor Skoodge as a flesh shield. His bomb gifts haunt me very soul- I swear I hear them ticking in the walls relentlessly, taunting me. But he brings me such a calming ease. It’s so weird. Like… I wanna ring his neck sometimes but just having his little body in my arms brings me such warmth. His voice makes me want to slam my face against a wall but I honestly can’t fathom it not being there. I just want to be there for him. And do everything in my power to make him as happy as I can.

What did he do to me?

Ugh. I’m pulling my lekku out at my desk. Think, Zara. Think. There’s gotta be something I can do. I’m mindlessly fumbling through my clutter, still rackin’ my brain around what to do next. Suddenly, a sweet scent fills the air and I realize I opened my candy drawer.

Hmmmm…. it’s not much but it’s the thought that counts.

I look over to Kira and tell her imma need to take 5. “Candy break?” She asks, watching me sneak a few pieces away. “Something like that” I reply.

Walking down the hallway to the smeetery felt like an eternity. What do I say? How will he respond? Lord, what if he wakes the other smeets and I gotta clear out my whole snack stash to not upset the others? What if he cries? If his PAK spazes out again, what if I have to shock him again? What if I fail my mission? What will the control brains do to me? what if… what if I have to kill him? How would I live with myself if I...hurt my smeet? Shit. I gotta stop doing that. He’s not MY smeet. He belongs to Irk. I’m just a guardian, nothing more. But… I never want him to leave my side. But he also has a job to do! For Irk! I hope he never becomes an invader. Keep him here, where it’s safe. Maybe the science division or something… hmmmmm.”

“Uhhh…” I hear next to me, a random voice sounding concerned. It breaks my concentration and I see another guard, head slightly tilted, staring at me. “You good, man?”

Oh! Seems I have been standing at the door for some time. I laughed. “Yeah. Sorry. Just got a lot on my mind.”

“It’s cool” she smiled “just don’t let the higher ups catch you wandering around aimlessly.”

“I appreciate it. Thanks!” I said waving as she went about her way. “Higher ups?” Yeah. Not a whole lot of fear there. Nothing can be worse than what we’ve already experienced.

The door opened, inviting me to the darkness of the smeetery. Was it always so cold in here? The only light shines from a few wires and screens on the walls but other than that, it’s pretty pitch black. A totally different feel to the liveliness of the early shift when spirits are high and bodies are active. Luckily, our vision is enhanced in our tubes, far before we go online so nighttime is never an issue for us.

I creep over to the nesting area, where all the little bodies are snoozing (or snoring in Skoodge’s case) and see those ruby eyes staring at the ceiling. I notice his antenna perk and he looks my direction, instantly making a face of aggression.

“What?”

That the hell kinda greeting is that? Little rude shit. I wanna smack him outside his little skull but I take a deep breath and calmly whisper. “Ain’t you supposed to be asleep?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I’m your guard. It IS my business. Why ain’t you asleep?”

“I’m not tired.”

“Something bothering you?”

“No.”

I can see it written all over his face in glow in the dark paint. “Ah-ha. You really are a bad liar. Is it cuz your legs?”

“NO.” He turned to face away from me.

“Hey. Listen: you’re going to get it. I know you will.”

“But how come Tak could so easily? All mine do is attack me.”

“Just because she got it faster than you, that doesn’t make her better than you.”

“Zim never claimed it did.”

He’s hurt. His words and his feelings are battling against each other. Tak being able to activate her PAK legs without any difficulties was eating him alive but he would never admit it.

“Listen… Zim. It’s going to get easier. You just gotta keep at it. Small steps get you far in life.”

He shrugged, sitting up, curling into himself. “Zim wonders about that sometimes. Maybe… he isn’t meant to get it.”

There it is. “Of course you are.” I said, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. “I believe in you. You are going to find a way. You never give up. I don’t think you know how.”

He looked my way, eyes wide and glassy. SHIT. Imma make him cry!? I didn’t mean to!

“You… you do?”

Huh?

“Of course I believe in you, dummy. And I will be here every step of the way. I got you.” I said, grazing my thumb across his cheek. A smile took the place of that awful frown and his eyes lit. “Here. I got you a little something, but only if you try to get some sleep. You got a long day of training with your PAK and you need all the rest you can get. Oh, and don’t let anyone know I did this.” I said putting my finger to my lips.

I reached into a belt pocket and grabbed a wrapped hard candy. With two fingers I held it in front of him, he looked at it inquisitively. His grubby little hands reached for it and I let him grab it. He stared at it, slowly unwrapping it and Then glanced back at me. I guess he didn’t trust it.

“It’s not drugged or nuthin’. Just some sweets.”

Again, he stared at me.

“What?”

“Your accent is really weird.”

“Just eat the damn candy and shut up” I said, pushing the sweet into his mouth. He just huffed but suckled on.

“Now DON'T cause anymore problems and get some shut eye. I will see you bright n’ early.”

He just puffed his cheeks and rolled over. Think I handled that well. And maybe, hopefully tomorrow will be a better day for him.

Smiled and waved on my way out. Dunno if he saw me but it doesn’t hurt. Walked into the hallway, into dread. Leaned against the wall and slid down.

Us E.L.I.T.E.S can’t disobey orders from the Control brains but… I pray with everything I have in me that things stay like this forever. Cuz’ if i ever had my mission changed or if I had to hurt him… idunno what I would do.

Zara out

[ratsoupee]

Things I Would’ve Loved To See In A Danny Phantom Reboot

I’m a big enthusiast when it comes to storytelling, and Danny Phantom literally has so much potential. And I’m very upset Butch was too coward to go darker. So here are my thoughts on if DP had a reboot:

Deeper ghost lore and kinds of ghost, A lot of fanfiction I have come across have so many versions of lore that all totally make sense and are supper cool (e.g. Ghost core types, states of ghosts, the idea of ghosts being ghosts, ghosts’ obsession). Ghosts that wreak havoc upon Amity Park because they are so filled with rage and need to be contained and put back in the ghost zone. Ghosts that, despite having moved on from their past, stay because they want to see the next Cowboys vs Aliens 3 movie happen and only cause trouble for the fun of it (exhibit A, Johnny). 

Spookier ghosts, just give us way meaner ghosts! Ghosts that have eyeballs hanging out! You can’t just give us funky ghosts and funky ghosts only. From the physically gore-ish to the psychologically horrifying ghosts (Like Penelope Spectra!), I would have loved to see these kind of ghosts and episodes.

Different cultural interpretations of ghosts. Of course, done respectfully, with deep research and understanding of said culture. So many cultures touch on the spiritual aspect of ghosts and spirits. It makes for incredible stories and ideas.

Danny Phantom being Trans, need I say more? (Butch Hartman can suck a dick)

Danny Phantom with much more unique, mysterious powers, he’s a Halfa, of course he’s a mystery, a phantom! While other ghosts have powers solely linked to an obsession or something they relate to closely, Danny doesn’t have that. He’s a mystery. I want seasons of Danny exploring and discovering powers he doesn’t have the means of understanding or controlling because it’s just that bizarre and one of a kind. Maybe he can tap into the memories of ghosts when they are extremely emotional, something about having the human connection?

Hilarious quirks about being a half ghost, like Danny showing up in photos looking like a cryptic entity, being super silent, scaring the shit out of people. Fun ghost stuff.

The bullies need to have their character development moments!! They had so much potential for character growth and exploration. Topics like toxic masculinity, abuse and bullying could’ve been explored through them! GIVE THEM THE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT THEY DESERVED

The friendship between Tucker, Sam and Danny being tested in the form of their own self reflection. People have also written good fanfiction about it, and the one I love the most is when Sam is being questioned about being friends with Tucker and Danny because of her favoritism towards unconventional-ism to spite her parents (Of course, Sam loves her friends with a passion). Or maybe when Danny has had a tough day (i.e getting found out by his parents and just showing up to Tucker’s home) and the two have no idea what to do, but in the end, they just needed to be there for Danny and likewise. Friendships like relationships are complicated. I would love to see these things being explored.

Danny’s ghost powers becoming a little more unpredictable in the later season. In relation to the earlier comment about ghosts obsession, ghosts can also become powerful with fickle emotion, especially aggression. Danny has always tiptoed the line of human and ghost, but when he gets too angry in a particular episode, he goes absolutely feral, intense ghost form and stuff. It’s a new thing he has to struggle with and it even makes him fear becoming ghost.

More Danny and Jazz moments, because siblings need so much screen time to annoy each other. But also, I would love moments where Jazz has Danny’s back and sometimes, covers up Danny’s disappearances in front of their parents with humorous excuses.

Danny’s secret is revealed to his parents in an unfavorable situation, and his parents struggle to accept and understand Danny’s revelation. Jack and Maddie have spent their whole lives thinking ghosts are bad, and the only way to solve a ghost problem is to shoot at it. With Danny, its a whole ‘nother stack of cards to deal with. From the fact that their son is no longer human, throwing a wrench into everything they know about ghosts, to holy shit, we actually killed our son. Maddie especially finds it harder to accept, believing that they need to help Danny get rid of his ghostly half, even if it meant destroying his core. But Danny doesn’t need help, he’s long accepted that he’s Halfa. Slowly, the Jack and Maddie learn to accept it, and a comically unsure about their jobs as ghost hunters.

Hey that movie about Planet something, never existed. Saving a planet from an asteroid is suppose to be the peak finale of Danny’s reveal to Amity Park as a half human half ghost?? Get outta here

Instead, let’s have a season finale of an epic ghost showdown that even Danny himself, will struggle terribly to defeat. He has to face off against a ghost that even with the help of his friends and his ghost powers, seems almost impossible. Even the ghosts of Amity Park are threatened if they ever get in their way of world domination, and they don’t hesitate to crush the cores of the ghosts. Its a culmination of the past relationships he has made with the ghosts, friends, family, allies, and even nemesis, working together to stop an ultimate evil. Because when he first faces off the ghost, he’s alone, and in their final showdown, he has people who will stick with him thick and thin. With everything he has learnt, struggled to control, and mastered his ghost powers, there is an epic showdown.

Trust me, I have so many ideas for the season finale showdown in my head. The ghost having the power to just grab and destroy a core, or control it. They have their ghost armada and they enjoy playing mind games, torment any poor soul who dares get in her way. Danny Phantom attempts to stop her in the ghost zone before she can enter the human world, but he gets absolutely destroyed, almost having his core taken from it and you can bet that shit will hurt like hell. He gets trapped in the ghost zone, too weak to make it back to the human world and alone, until Vlad of all ghosts, manages to fish him out of the ghost zone and Danny finds that the humans and ghosts have taken refuge from the big Ghost boss. 

As much as I dislike Butch Hartman and his homophobic cowardly ass, make no mistake that he pioneered a generation of cartoon and art. He made a style uniquely distinct that even artists reference when it comes to character design. But his stories have so much potential that we can’t shy away from. We need more mature themes for kids to learn, more openly LGBTQ+ friendly episodes and of course, more diverse characters and cast.

Feel free to add more! There’s just so many ideas for a DP reboot, and they really are amazing

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 14

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader (Best Friend) Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 1620

Warnings:  Swearing, bit of violence if you looking very closely

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

So Hi again everyone! one more chapter to go then we're on the first Avenger, I just wanna say thank you to each and everyone of you all for taking the time to sit down and read this, it means the absolute world to me! Anyways I'll shut up, enjoy chapter 14 everyone <3

Now don’t ask me how they did it, but somehow my idiots managed to open my front door without a key, if I wasn’t so pissed at them for getting into a fight for the 5th night in a row, I’d be tearing them a new one for that alone. Completely and uttered annoyed with the pair of em, I may of opened my door with a bit more force than necessary and twatted the back of it on the coat rack, not my best moment but at least nothing broke. I was fully prepared to lose my shit with both of em, but one look of them both sat at the table, covered head to toe in bruises and cuts made all my anger disappear, I can’t be mad at them when they both look absolutely exhausted.

Wordlessly I crossed the landing into the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit and spare clothes I kept for the boys, setting em down on the dresser just outside my room before heading off to change into my satin pyjamas. It’s times like this that make me so frustrated with them both, I know why they do what they do, they’re trying to make the world a better place in their own way, but I just wished that they wouldn’t do it in a way that put them in danger. Coming back out into the kitchen was almost like walking into a morgue, neither of them said a thing to each other whilst I was gone, the looks their faces absolutely shattered my small, minuscule heart to pieces.

It was pretty easy to see from the slumped shoulders and the way they both avoided eye contact that they were ashamed of what happened tonight, and that made me feel like the biggest piece of shit ever, I trusted these boys with my life, and I know that they would never start a fight if they didn’t have a reason for it. Hell, I didn’t care about the reason why anymore. Without saying a word to them, I went over to the sink and filled a bowl with warm water, I knew that one of em would have got the rags out already, more than likely Buck cause Steve’s short ass can’t reach the cabinet…I’m joking I love him really, but he’s soooo fucking short it’s unreal..

I’d barely had time to put the bowl on the table before Steve started to speak.

“We’re sorry Y/n…Those guys were erm..saying some pretty messed up things about you and I couldn’t help it, I saw red and lost my temper. Be angry with me, not a Buck he was just lookin’ out for me”.

The sigh that left my body couldn’t be helped, as much as I love Steve he couldn’t lie to save his life, though normally I wouldn’t put it past him to start a fight over me, the way Buck reacted made it pretty clear that the hot-headed love of my life started this one, the sharp look he gave for Steve was about as subtle as a sneeze in a silent library. The sudden ache that settled over my chest wasn’t foreign to me one bit, it happened every time I looked at Bucky, as much as I wanted to tell him how I felt I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea, he loves me like a sister and I should be happy with that, I’d rather have that than nothing at all…

“Steve…it’s not that, it’s the fact that you guys would start a fight over something so silly, I love you both to the moon and back, but I don’t care about what people say about me, I’m upset that you put yourselves in danger over me. I’m not worth the trouble it would cause and after the shit I’ve done, it’s not like I don’t deserve it.”

Bucky was silent the whole time, at times he looked like he wanted to disagree but a look from Steve shut it down, we all fell into a comfortable silence after that, which for the 3 of us is pretty fucking weird considering Steve and I are normally annoying the hell outta Bucky, what can I say me, and Steve have amazing singing voices. I stole a quick look at the pair of them, considering they both looked like shit it was actually a very difficult choice about which idiot I should clean up first, then I remembered that Steve has the immune system of an asthmatic grandma, so I dunked his cut-up hands in the warm water a little bit harder than I meant to, but I’d be lying if I said the squeal he let out wasn’t funny.

It really didn’t take me long to get him cleaned up at all, then again I do this like 8 times a week with the moron, you’d think after about 10 split lips the kid would learn his lesson, but apparently not cause he’ll be back at it in the morning. I need to start charging him for medical supplies, I’m practically a hospital at this point. As Steve stood up to leave, he paused and looked towards me with his sad puppy eyes, and I’m no monster so of course I gave him a hug, thank god he’s not as short as when were kids or his face would be right in my chest region, I don’t think an accidental motorboat is on his list of top 10 things to do. With one final look from Buck, Stevie boy took his clothes and went into the spare room, leaving us both to talk which could take a while cause we’re both stubborn asses. Que the awkward silence….

“I am sorry Doll…I just couldn’t stand back and hear those assholes talk about you like that. I love ya too much for that…”

Okay ouch, the sister zoning wasn’t necessary Barnaby.

I knew in my heart I meant every single word he said, Bucky was never the one to start the fights unless it was over his family and I understand that I do, if I were in the same position I’d do the sae for them. The dejected sigh that left me wasn’t missed by him, I chose to ignore his reaction to it and moved closer to him, the cuts on his hands were a little deeper than Steve’s, not that it stopped me from slamming his hands into the hot water as a tiny bit of revenge. Because I’m such a nice person, I chose to ignore the hiss of pain and glare directed at me from my good ol’ Bucky boy, plus I was focusing on cleaning his cuts.

“Buck…I don’t need you to say sorry, I understand why you did it, I just hate that you can be so careless about your own safety, what if you get into a fight whilst I’m working, and something happens? I’d never be able to forgive myself that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, I love you and Steve so so much, but it hurts me to see you do this to yourselves….”.

The time we spent sat together was lost to me, Bucky didn’t say anything after that and left me to clean his hands whilst he got lost in his thoughts, not that I minded. It’s the times like these that help me realise just how much pressure he puts on himself, it’s like he has to be the one to hold up the weight of the world, but he doesn’t realise he doesn’t have to do it by himself and it breaks my heart. But I wished that he didn’t tilt his head down when he’s feeling sombre and sad because I can’t see his fucking face, it kinda makes cleaning his cuts a bit hard ya know ? Reluctantly I stood up and went back to the sink, the rag I used to clean his hands was beyond filthy at this point and I don’t really fancy wiping ouch juice all over his face, by the time I’d turned back around Buck had his head in his hands.

You know it’s bad when he’s like this, Buck never lets anyone see just how much stress he’s under, the only other person that’s ever seen him in this state is Steve, I moved back over to him and placed the rag back down on the table, my main focus now being cheering up my Bucky. As it turns I didn’t have to do much, once he saw my shadow in front of him, his head lifted automatically as his eyes searched mine, the level of exhaustion in his eyes was almost enough to make me cry, I couldn’t help the hand that reached out to cup his cheek, nor the other hand that began to run through his hair. It was almost like I put him under a spell, Buck’s eyes closed in relief as his head fell forward to rest on my upper stomach, at some point his looped his arms around my waist to pull me closer to him, I couldn’t help but pepper the top of his head in small kisses to try and cheer him up.

This is the part of him I love the most, the moments where he isn’t afraid to let his guard down and for once let someone help him, to take the burden off his shoulders and relax for a while, even if he doesn’t love me the way I love him, I still wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He has and always will be my home….nothing can or will change that.

And that's Number 14 done and dusted, let me know what you all think, thank you for reading!

All My Love,

Rose xxx

@purelydarling

[sarahzstories]

✨Interview with Princess and Narry✨

✨*A/N This is in the format that Niall, Harry and Princess are having a sit down interview with someone for a magazine. I have a Part 2 ready if you are interested, also feel free to send in questions you want the three of them to answer! Enjoy!*✨

Q: How did you really meet? And when?

Niall: At a Christmas party in New York about what like eight years ago?

Princess: Yeah they crashed my aunt’s party and Harry ran into me and spilled a drink all over me.

Harry: It was an accident and I have apologized several times since it happened.

Princess: That’s true he does apologize every year on our friend-anniversary.

Q: Is there a group chat?

Princess: Yes duh.

Harry: It’s called the Three Amigos.

Niall: I love dat it’s been da same name since we made it eight years ago.

Q: Who is the most annoying in the group chat?

Harry: Me

Niall: For sure Harry. He’s da bloody worst at sending incomplete thoughts instead of just thinking about what he’s tryin ta say and sending one long paragraph.

Princess: He just tells us things as they pop into his head is all. It’s not annoying.

Niall: She’s jus sayin dat cos she’s nice.

Harry: No she’s saying that because she does the same thing just not as much as I do. Remember that time she was trying to tell us she ran into Orlando Bloom at Starbucks?

Niall: Bloody hell that was such a shit show of a text conversation.

Princess: I was star struck! I couldn’t form complete sentences!

Q: What are yours names in each other’s phones?

Niall: Harry is jus saved as H an Princess is saved as Princess wit da crown emoji an a heart.

Harry: Niall is the Irish One in my phone and Princess is Bestfriend and it has a sparkle and heart emoji next to it.

Niall: *rolls eyes*

Princess: Oh Harry is saved under Little Lanky Baby with a red heart and Niall is My Little Irish Marshmallow with a clover emoji.

Harry: What? Are you serious?

Niall: Have Ya never noticed our contact names when she sends screenshots?

Harry: I’m not lanky?

Niall: Are ya havin a laugh mate? Yer arse is lanky.

Princess: You really are and that’s okay! Everyone loves it!

Harry: I don’t know how I feel about this...

Princess: You’ll survive.

Q: When do you three actually become as close as you are now? Was it instant?

Harry: I think it was maybe a month after we met. We got really close very fast because we talked all the time.

Niall: I agree, it was pretty fast we jus clicked and I think it was like after a month or so that we invited her to a show and after dat it was like we knew each other fo ever.

Princess: Texting and talking on the phone really helped speed up the getting to know you process. They’ve had a key to my apartment since like six months after knowing them. We all just meshed really well and it’s been great.

Q: Have you ever been in a fight? If so what was it about?

Niall: Oh god...

Harry: Yes. One fight and I don’t like to talk about it. But it was about my debut album details getting out before I was ready.

Princess: He’s so sensitive about this subject but yeah only one so far and it only lasted like three days so wasn’t too bad.

Harry: Wasn’t too bad? It was horrible. We didn’t speak for 72 hours.

Niall: It was all a misunderstanding type thing cos Harry over reacted and got mean and then just didn’t know how to fix it.

Princess: He didn’t overreact. He was right to be mad at me.

Harry: I’m not getting into this.

Niall: It’s been years mate let it go it’s okay you got upset at her, no friendship is perfect, even ours.

Harry: You wanna talk about how you also got mad at her the same day? Or no?

Niall: Jesus Yer in a mood today, m’fine talkin bout our little fight cos it only lasted a day and it was cos I blew things outta proportion.

Princess: Once again it’s fine we are allowed to be upset with each other. Next question?

Harry: Yes. Let’s move on.

Q: Is jealously an issue between the three of you?

Niall: *looks at Harry*

Princess: *also looks at Harry*

Harry: Excuse me, may I help you two with something?

Princess: Wanna talk about getting jealous?

Harry: I don’t get jealous.

Niall: Are ya fuckin jokin? Yer arse is the reason why we have ta have a group calendar so no one gets more one on one time than the other Ya knob!

Harry: That has nothing to do with being jealous. I like to be organized with my time that’s all.

Princess: That’s all? You sure?

Harry: I’m sure.

Princess: So it’s not because one time you realized Niall and I had seen each other three times in one week without you?

Harry: I mean three times in a week is a lot.

Niall: Yer ridiculous mate jus admit ya get jealous whenever P hangs out wit anyone besides you.

Harry: I’m choosing not to respond to that.

Q: Who’s the most protective?

Princess: It’s a toss up between the two of them.

Harry: I’d say i get more protective while Niall is the first to want to fight anyone who makes P feel uncomfortable or makes her cry. But I’m the one who wants to just prevent it at all costs.

Niall: what he means is he would rather P never leave da bloody house.

Harry: It would make it easier...

Princess: I get protective over them as well though!

Harry: *looks at Niall*

Niall:*looks at Harry*

Princess: What? Remember that time I yelled at that man who was trying to take pictures of us at the beach?

Niall: I mean yer right, ya can get protective an are always the first ta tell paps to fuck off.

Harry: She can be very ferocious when she wants to be.

Niall: *laughs*

Princess: Both of you are assholes.

Harry: I didn’t say anything!

Q: Was it easier being friends when Niall and Harry were both in the same band?

Princess: Yes I mean it wasn’t as chaotic trying to figure out what dates work best to see who but also it was a whole different type of chaos when I’d go visit them while they were in One Direction.

Niall: Ya it was wild as hell when she’d come cos we were literally always doin somethin fo tha band either all five of us or dey would separate us into groups and it would be Harry and I and the rest of da boys and we would be shootin promo or even recordin a bloody album!

Harry: It was always her getting shoved in a backseat with us in a car or getting little fifteen minutes breaks to talk and actually see each other between whatever the hell we had to do the days she was on tour with us.

Princess: But the shows were so much fun, but I’d honestly say getting to visit them while on their solo tours is better than when they were in One Direction simply because they get more down time and it’s not always go go go like it was back then.

Niall: I agree, when we get to the venues of our shows we don’t have ten thousand things ta do before the show so we get to chill and hang out.

Harry: It’s really such a different world going on tour now than it was when we toured with One Direction.

Princess: But I honestly would put up with the craziness of visiting them while in One Direction still if I had to.

Niall: Is she-

Harry: Hinting that she wants a One Direction reunion tour? Yes.

Princess: What? That’s not what I meant.

Harry: Mhm...right.

Niall: *laughs*

Princess: *rolls eyes*

Q: Okay but really who do you enjoy hanging out with more?

Niall: *looks at Princess*

Harry: Hmm...

Princess: Is this just a question for me? *raises an eyebrow*

Harry: I have the most fun with Princess.

Niall: Same. Harry makes me wanna smack em upside da head too much when it’s jus tha two of us.

Harry: I could say the same thing about you, you little hobbit.

Princess: I don’t have a favorite. I get asked this all the time on my Instagram and I feel like no one believes me? But I truly don’t have a favorite to hang out with and actually like it when it’s all three of us together.

Q: How do you deal with dating while being so close to the boys? Does it get weird?

Harry: Threats. Lots of threats.

Niall: Oh please we aren’t tha most threatenin set of blokes H. It doesn’t get weird tho cos P doesn’t really date do ya Princess?

Princess: I go on dates yes, I haven’t been in a serious relationship is a while but it’s not weird, everyone I talk to knows I’m friends with Niall and Harry.

Harry: I’d like to think we have more than just a regular friendship...

Princess: I mean yes it’s a bit different. But I let them know before it even gets to us going on dates that the two of them are a massive part of my life.

Niall: Same goes fo us though, I tell the people m’interested in bout P and the fact she’s one of the main people in my life and most of em are fine wit it.

Harry: Everyone who knows me knows about my relationship with Princess and knows that nothing comes before it. She will always come first, like it or not.

Princess: He is so dramatic i swear he makes it sound like I’m the only person in his life that he’s like this with, it’s the same with his family. Not just me.

Niall: Harry is dramatic though but it’s true, everyone that even tries ta get wit H knows three things for sure and it’s that he loves a good Gucci suit, loves his family and his friendship with Princess is untouchable.

Harry: Oh now who sounds dramatic?

Princess: We are going to be single forever aren’t we?

Niall: We could do one of dem packs about getting married if we are single when we are thirty.

Harry: I’d rather not marry you when I’m thirty that’s when I’ll just be starting to thrive.

Niall: Oi! Then when? Ya wanna be so old ya won’t enjoy it?

Harry: You’ll enjoy it no matter the age it happens you knob.

Princess: How about sixty? Still young, I mean look at Bruce he is thriving!

Harry: *rolls eyes* you’ve been dying to bring up Bruce Willis haven’t you?

Niall: Deal.

Harry: I guess I can agree to that.

Q: Favorite thing about each other?

Niall: I’d have to say I enjoy Harry’s opinions, he doesn’t sugar coat em he knows I don’t like all that fake ass stuff so he tells it to me straight.

Harry: You’re quite welcome for always telling you when you’re being an asshole.

Niall: Ya gotta ruin every moment don’t ya? Anyways I’d say my favorite thing bout Princess would be...her ability to jus know what I need and when I need it.

Harry: It’s kind of freaky how she does that though right? The texts are the creepiest.

Niall: Right? Like when she can jus sense ya’ve had a bad day so she sends ya Dis heartwarming text and yer jus like how the bloody fuck did she know??

Princess: I just know you both so well! I can’t help it.

Harry: It’s great love, we love it.

Niall: doesn’t make it any less creepy though.

Princess: Well I’d say my favorite thing about Niall is that he has this ability to make everyone around him instantly feel comfortable and like at home if that makes any sense?

Harry: I can agree, he’s very good at making everyone around him feel at ease.

Princess: And my favorite thing about Harry is he has this weird way of knowing how you need to be comforted. Like he knows when to just hold your hand, when to pull you in for a hug or just when you grab you and hold you. It’s lovely.

Niall: Ah yeah dis is so true. Always tryin ta hug me.

Harry: Well I don’t see you fighting me off.

Niall: Oi yer arse didn’t answer what yer fave things are bout us, do ya not have one?

Harry: I love Niall’s sense of humor, we both have the same type of lame humor and laugh at the stupidest stuff. My favorite thing about Princess is probably how she just gets me and lets me be me.

Princess: *sniffles* Can we move on?

Niall: Way ta go got er all watery eyed now.

Harry: I’m not the one who asked the question! I just answered it. You got her all emotional too you knob.

Q: Have you written any songs about your friendship?

Niall: Yeah Harry have we?

Harry: *rolls eyes* yes.

Princess: Go on, just tell them.

Niall: Yeah H jus tell em. Get it off yer chest.

Harry: You’re in such a mood today. Fine. I wrote meet me in the hallway about when Princess and I had a fight.

Niall: And...

Harry: I wrote Adore You with her in mind about her effect on the people around her. That she has no clue she has.

Princess: What about you Niall?

Harry: Yes hobbit what about you hmmm?

Niall: I wrote the Tide while thinking about her when she was datin that one arsehole.

Harry: And?

Niall: Fine you arse I also wrote Mirrors about her as well.

Harry: Oh and if you’re wondering about One Direction songs the main one we wrote about our friendship is Drag Me Down.

Niall: S’pretty obvious though, s’fo her and da whole fandom really.

Princess: That is my hype song. So damn good.

Q: What’s a memory the three of you cherish?

Princess: Oh that’s a good one!

Niall: S’gotta be when we all went ta Cabo fo a week like three years ago and we jus laid in the sun by the beach all day and got drunk off wine at night an it was one of tha most relaxing vacations I’ve ever had.

Harry: That was a great trip.

Princess: Mine is when we had our first sleepover at my tiny ass New York apartment. When we did face masks and ended up passing out on my bed watching Will and Grace. I think that next morning is when I really realized you two were going to literally be my humans forever.

Harry: Oh the good ole days of our sleepovers and trying to squeeze onto your loveseat. Mine is the time when Niall and I had to go get you from the bar when you got too drunk on a Monday night.

Princess: That’s your most cherished memory? Really?

Harry: Yes, because that was the first time you ever used us as your like emergency contact and the first time we had to come save you. You weren’t super wasted, Niall and I just had to make sure you got home safe and it was nice because you kept telling us how much you loved us.

Niall: Now we always gotta come save er, member that one time we had ta crash her date wit dat golf dude?

Princess: Oh god

Harry: That was fun! He was a proper dick.

Princess: Next question?

Q: This is the last one, who said I love you first out of the three of you?

Princess: It was Niall

Harry: I know everyone is gonna be shocked to hear it wasn’t me.

Niall: I mean yeah it was me. M’not ashamed of it. I was tellin P bye and was like love ya and she said love you too Ni and then Harry got all mushy an was like, what did ya say H?

Princess: He said and I quote “if we are saying we love each other I want to be involved because I love you too!”

Harry: Sounds about right.

Niall: That was like what three months into the friendship?

Harry: Yeah five or take a few weeks.

Princess: Now we say it all the time!

Harry: So that’s it then yeah?

Interviewer: Yeah that’s it! Thank you so much for your time this was so fun.

Niall: It was fun gettin ta hear what people wanna know bout the three of us. Hope it wasn’t borin.

Princess: Us boring? Never.

[anika-ann]

Attached: Hurtful Words Pt.2

Type: (mini)-series,  Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 3530

Summary:  Steve’s been hit hard with the events involving bad poetry on campus too. He thinks he knows what needs to be done; but sometimes, what people truly need is a really good friend who knocks some sense into them. 

Enter Bucky Barnes and Penny Cooper.

A/N: Attached: Hurtful Words is an addition that loosely followes the Attached series. You don’t necessarily need to read the mini-series as a whole, but you will understand much better.

Warnings: mentions of name calling and humiliation, brief violence, swearing, some angst and lots of talking

Story masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

The friendship between Bucky and Steve had begun with a beautiful chain reaction.

On a cold November day many years ago, a six-year-old Steve Rogers witnessed a pair of stupid boys stealing a girl’s hat and tossing it around and he stepped in; a seven-year-old Bucky Barnes saw two jerks hitting a younger and obviously weaker kid and decided to take it personally.

That day, Bucky Barnes met Steve Rogers and instantly became a protective older brother, for he recognized that Steve had a brave and kind heart. That day, they became easy friends, because Steve recognized the same qualities in Bucky.

Even if they grew as people, they had their ups and downs, they never grew apart completely and stayed best friends for life – and the protectiveness over each other never disappeared. Which was only one of the reasons why Bucky felt an unbearable urge to punch someone – preferably the idiots who got his OTP into this mess.

Fairly enough, he wanted to punch you a little bit as well for keeping Steve in the dark and hurting him too, but hey – you were entitled at least, you were the target of the jest that the three antichrists came up with.

Hell, Bucky even considered reaching out to you himself since you kept ignoring Steve; not necessarily to scold you, god forbid actually punch you, but just to beg you to talk to his friend.

In the end, he decided against it, because it wasn’t quite his business and you probably knew better than him when you were ready to talk. God knew that seeing you broken and in tears would hurt Steve too and it would only feed his doubts and as Bucky suspected, misplaced guilt.

No one wanted to see that right? Bucky surely didn’t.

He truly just wanted his friend happy and the thing was, you made him the happiest Bucky had ever seen him, even with the complications and ‘controversy’ surrounding your relationship.

So when after days of silence on your end Bucky entered the office and saw a sombre expression on Steve’s face, somewhat more pensive than his recent usual, and a phone in his hand, he froze in the doorway, heart stopping in his chest.

Oh. Oh no, please don’t let that be it.

His heart kicked back in when he focused on Steve’s eyes – they were downcast, but visibly not teary and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. Manly men and all that, but fuck, Steve would shed a tear or two if you two were completely definitely over. Oh, and he would probably devastate the office in a burst of frustration.

“Hey Steve,” Bucky hummed nonchalantly, closing the door behind him and making his way to his desk. “Who was that?”

He purposely didn’t look at Steve so the punk wasn’t shy about talking about whatever conversation he had. It happened on occasion, Steve keeping stuff to himself, when he was thinking he was annoying Buck – but joke was on him. Yes, Steve could be annoying as fuck, but Bucky could stand a few emotional talks when his friend was on the verge of losing what seemed to be the love of his life.

“Uhm… nobody,” Steve responded simply, putting the device away. He started going through the papers on his desk as if searching for something in attempt to look busy.

Bucky rolled his eyes. As if that would work on him.

“Right. Try again.”

The rustling stopped, a resigned sigh falling from Steve’s lips before he admitted the truth. “Penny Cooper.”

Bucky’s head snapped to Steve, eyebrows jumping for a second.

He did not expect that answer, but he couldn’t say he found it an unpleasant surprise. When Bucky had thought about contacting you, he considered getting in touch with your best friend too.

And yes, he knew Penn Cooper’s name; hell, he had met her on a sort-of friendly hang-out night where you and Steve tried and very much failed at not being a disgustingly-in-love couple when having a night out with friends. Bucky hadn’t complained nearly as much as he could have, mostly because he was delighted to see Steve so lovestruck for a girl who was evidently just as lovestruck for him.

Anyway.

“Ah, Penny. You finally decided to call her. Good. How did it go?”

Steve didn’t appear to share Bucky’s hopeful sentiment, running a hand down his face and turning his gaze to the ceiling.

Bucky narrowed his eyes; while his heart sank at what seemed to be no good news, he could tell that this was not a mourning Steve. In fact, looking closer at Steve as he approached his desk, it was dawning to him that this was Steve overthinking something he heard from Penny.

Great. That’s probably even worse.

In attempt to prevent a catastrophe in making, Bucky did the only thing that came to his mind. He probed.

“That bad, huh?” he stated more than asked, crossing his arms on his chest. “She told you to leave her bestie alone?”

Steve grimaced, his eyebrows furrowing; a clear sign that he was digging deeper into a hole he was creating for himself in his head. The pit of misery and gloom. The pit of despair.

“Not exactly… I think.”

That was the problem with Steve really – sometimes, he thought. Steve Rogers was in fact known for occasional and epical impulsiveness, but so the gods above help if he sank into a well of overthinking. Because that usually led to a stupid decision, which was practically irreversible due to Steve’s infamous determination and stubbornness. It was next to impossible to talk him out of something once he made up his mind.

“Stop that, punk,” Bucky warned him silently, uncrossing his arms and giving Steve a glare.

“Stop what?” Steve asked with a sigh, as if he didn’t know.

“Overthinking. Get out of your head. It just produces loads of bullshit right now.”

“Bucky-“ was all that Steve said, sending his friend an imploring gaze, but Bucky was not fooled. The wheels of doom were still turning in Steve’s head, inevitably leading to the aforementioned bullshit.

And as Bucky had learned the hard way, once the final stage of decision-making was reached, there was no going back. Not with Steve. Which meant he had to stop that disastrous thought before Steve’s stubborn ass grew it into an apocalypse plant.

Then, Steve’s expression shifted; a minor change, yet all too visible to a man who knew him since he was a kid.

Bucky recognized what just happened… and he panicked.

When Bucky Barnes was panicking, he did things he wasn’t necessarily proud of later, but of which he was certain would work.

Plus, the quickly set-up plan was bound to kill two birds in one stone, giving Bucky’s unbearable urge lasting for the past few days an outlet. Win-win, crisis averted, right?

“Get up off your ass,” Bucky ordered, earning a half-heartedly invested surprised and confused raise of eyebrows from his friend.

However, Steve did not stand up.

“Get up, Steven.”

Slightly annoyed but resigned, Steve rose to his feet, the movement a testimony of how exhausted he was. How much energy the past few days had stolen from him… how much of energy he had spent on navigating through the maze of confusing and self-doubting thoughts.

But that was ending now; Bucky was going to make sure of that.

“What?” Steve sighed, clearly expecting more of the pep-talk, possibly more intense since he was asked to stand upright.

He was wrong.

Sorry, Steve.

Like a lightning, Bucky’s fist shot up to Steve’s nose and connected with it with a snap.

Steve stumbled back into the chair, barely catching himself and his nose, staring on Bucky wide-eyed and hurt.

To be fair, Bucky was hurting too – fuck, he forgot how punching people without boxing gloves felt.

“The fhuck-“

“-is wrong with you?!” Bucky finished as he was wondering the same, shaking his hand in hopes to distract himself from the pain.

For a brief second, satisfaction flashed in Steve’s eyes; but Bucky could tell that his get-out-of-your-head technique worked, so he was pretty satisfied himself. Not to mention that Steve probably felt that punch in the back of his skull, having literally rocked his world.

“I wah jugh godda hask!” Steve mumbled, checking the fingers hovering around his nose for blood, frowning as they indeed stained in some crimson – but nothing terrible, Bucky thought.

Then again, he wasn’t the one with cracked nose.

“Outta your head now?” he asked, unable to hide all of his smugness.

Steve frowned at him, clenching his jaw, but didn’t try to punch him back as he probably realized which purpose the unexpected and unusual violence served.

“Bhacky, wah ta hell-?”

“Right before I punched you – you decided to give up on her, didn’t you?” Bucky questioned, being 95% sure about it. Steve’s face told him it should have been 100%. Idiot. Sad and having the right, but still an idiot. “The Steve Rogers I know wouldn’t give up.”

“How did you even-?” Steve asked incredulously, not trying to deny it, not even with his words.

As if Bucky still needed words with him. He knew him almost better than himself.

Also, it was funny how quickly Steve’s punch-induced mumble disappeared.

“You kidding? You’re acting like I didn’t know you since you were six. And during all that time, I didn’t see you give up, not fucking once!”

The slight raise in volume of Bucky’s voice stirred something in Steve – or perhaps it was the accusatory tone by which Bucky was shamelessly trying to provoke a reaction. Because really, Steve desperately needed to leave his overactive brain behind and experience some new emotion besides pure misery and guilt. Anger was okay, Bucky supposed – not great, but okay.

“Jesus, Buck! You know this isn’t it! Look at the mess we already made!” Steve exploded, throwing his hand in the air. “What about in the future? She was planning doing her master’s here! And what about in her future job? It was on the Internet – it never goes away! It will stay with her like a fucking plague, a bomb loaded with C4 ready to be set off! They’ll do a background check and come across it and decide that it would send a bad message to people. Or they’ll humiliate her again, mock her that she’s gonna start an affair on the workplace too. She won’t get the job just because of being with me and they’ll call her a whore on top of that--she doesn’t deserve that!”

The name you had been called stood out even in the long passionate monologue – Steve spited it out with so much venom and hatred towards anyone who would dare to call you that that Bucky nearly had to take a step back from the intense crackling in the air.

He watched Steve take a deep breath in silence, frustrated and sorrowful blue orbits watching with a silent plea to understand.

And Bucky did; he really did. To a point.

“She doesn’t deserve that, Buck,” Steve echoed in a whisper.

A whisper of a broken man, torn between seeking his own happiness on expense of someone else’s and doing what was right in his mind.

Bucky reciprocated the stare, simultaneously impressed and unimpressed as his mind had already put together what Steve had been thinking before saying it out loud. Steve’s speech only confirmed his fears of how Steve would twist what was happening into something he was to be blamed for completely... and would come up with doomsday scenarios.

Except there were always two people (well, sometimes more), when it came to this sort of thing, weren’t there? Two people who were equally participating in this relationship, both very much willingly.

“…you done?”

The plea in Steve’s eyes seemed to deepen before he averted Bucky’s gaze in shame.

Like Steve should be ashamed for the crimes against human decency others committed. Crimes like writing bad poetry and putting in on walls.

“No. You know what else is there. I know you know.”

Yes, Bucky knew.

“You bet your perfect dramatic ass I do, Rogers. I figured they weren’t exactly love letters, because you have zero poker face. How many times? What did they call you? A perv? A molester?” Bucky grinded his teeth, the urge to hit someone returning instantly, hungry and thirsty for blood – and Steve’s nose wouldn’t do this time. He needed a real asshole so he could feel like he made a difference.

Bucky was aware that Steve had started receiving the hate letters almost as soon as the whispers about the relationship started. He had never said a word about them to Bucky and at first, Bucky had been thinking they might have been love letters from someone else, causing him to frown, because in which universe wanted Steve someone unhappy, let alone because of him?

But it soon dawned to him; precisely because Steve hadn’t shared them. Not with Buck and not with you, he suspected. He couldn’t decide which was worse.

“…among other things,” Steve sighed and shook his head. “It would be tiring, it is, but… you’re right. I don’t give up easily. That kind of hate letters… those I can handle. But they said I’ll ruin her future too… and they’re right, it’s already started. I can’t-- not her, Buck. I can’t watch her deal with that bullshit. This can never happen again. I—I have to let her go.”

Weren’t they just over it? That Steve’s head was in no state to make reasonable choices?

“You cannot unring a bell, Steve. It’s done. You said so, it’s on the internet. Tony’s done his best to delete the trail, so the digital print is practically non-existent, but it’s done,” Bucky remarked matter-of-factly. “The things you’re saying, they might be true to some extent, not as tragic as you paint them though. The question is – are you gonna fight for the two of you, so the good stays too… or are you gonna leave like that, on that real fucked-up note and regret it in few years’ time when you look back at this?”

Bucky could pinpoint the exact moment all fight left Steve’s body – his shoulders slumped and his expression turned resigned, almost desperate as he looked up into Bucky’s eyes, his gaze speaking thousands of words.

“It doesn’t matter,” Steve whispered, averting Bucky’s gaze then, focusing on his desk instead, staring blindly ahead. “She wouldn’t talk to me, Buck. I tried, you know that. She’s done with me.“

Bucky sighed and leaned his palms onto the desk, easing the pressure on Steve’s poor tormented soul by softening his demeanour. In the end, all he was trying to do was to help – no matter how frustrated he was getting.

“Of course she wouldn’t talk you, Steve. She’s probably just as caught up in her head as you are in yours. I just hope that Cooper is working on getting her out. What did she tell you?”

Steve gulped and bit on the inside of his cheek. Bucky would swear he saw a hint of a blush on his friend’s cheek and an unpleasant hunch crept up on him.

Oh no, he didn’t.

“…that I shouldn’t come over so I don’t push her too much. That she might not be responding, but she’s listening to all of my voicemails and reads all the texts and e-mails, so until she explicitly asks me to lose her number, I should keep trying,” Steve mumbled, traces of both hope and shame lacing his voice.

Bucky pushed off of the desk and huffed loudly, looking up to the ceiling and pleading God for strength.

A dumbass. His friend was a complete and utter dumbass.

When Bucky spared him a glare that told the blond what he was thinking, Steve sunk further into his chair.

And Bucky was honestly so so done.

Hadn’t he been delighted at the turn of events and Penny, the best friend, giving them hope, he might have punched Steve again for being a dramatic fool. And for being an idiot.

“Sometimes I think you like getting punched, Steven, I have no other explanation,” Bucky deadpanned and then closed his eyes and went to massage the bridge of his nose to ease the headache that was starting to build up in reaction to stress. He loved Steve to bits, honest to God, but he really could be an idiot sometimes. “So you talk to the friend, who probably knows her through and through, she tells you this and still you go: nah, let’s leave her alone, let’s break things off, let’s give up. Jesus, Steve.”

Steve held up his hands palms up, apparently lost and clueless.

Okay, Bucky felt for him. But still.

“I don’t know what else to do, Buck. I- I love her. She’s everything I could ever want, I cannot imagine losing her. It’s… it’s making me sick to just think-- but I don’t want to ruin her life either, Buck, I don’t want to-“

“Be happy?” Bucky interrupted, earning a deadly glare from his friend. “Don’t give me that look. I told you. Now, she’s probably still processing, just like you. Her head is probably a mess… just like yours. I know it’s hard, fuck, I know. But try and do what Cooper is telling you and stay patient. Oh, and I don’t know, maybe just-- don’t. Give. Up.”

Bucky had to gather his next thoughts, not at all happy about what he was about to say next, feeling like he was undermining the message he was trying to get through. But he believed that Steve needed to hear that too – his righteous side would love it, in fact.  

“And then, let her make the choice. It will hurt like a bitch if she decides to break up, but at least you won’t be making her choice for her. I think there’s a fair chance that she’ll come around. She likes you a lot too, you know.”

“She said anything to you?” Steve’s head snapped up automatically, his face lighting up with a hint of an eager smile.

Hadn’t he been so cute, Bucky would have rolled his eyes at him. Instead, he shared his observation that took zero effort to gain. Everyone who had at least one functioning eye would notice… which included Fury. Anyway-

“She didn’t have to. It’s written all over her face, in her body language. Shit Steve, you practically live together, how can you even doubt her feelings for you? I thought you were like… soulmates almost. Shared everything and stuff…” Which lead him to another thought, a brief surge of fear that there was one thing that might complicate this matter further if possible. “But she doesn’t know about those ‘love’ letters, does she?”

“God, of course not!”

“Good, then she can make a decision to overcome this on her own, just like you decided to deal with your problem alone,” Bucky offered and a smile slowly spread on his lips. “Just… share it with her once things are a bit calmer, will ya’? You don’t want her to find out on her own.”

Steve mirrored his expression, the tension in his body visibly easing. Bucky could kiss Penny Cooper at that moment. Hell, maybe he would the next time he saw her, just because.

“…you really think I should keep trying?” Steve asked, genuinely curious, but obviously knowing the answer already, seeing as his bashful smile widened.

Really?!

“Steven, my hand hurts, don’t make me punch you again.”

“…point taken,” Steve chuckled, turning his palms to Bucky in a show of meaning no harm. And not wanting to get hit again, probably. “I can’t believe you hit me.”

Bucky had to admit that it wasn’t his brightest moment – but hey, it worked, so guess it was sort of a genius move after all.

His eyebrows jumped suggestively, teasing. “Didn’t think I’d see the day you’ll be on the receiving end of the infamous Barnes’ super-jab.”

“Oh, quit bragging.”

“Blah blah blah, you’re just mad because my fists are like made of iron,” Bucky exclaimed, clenching them and showing them off, causing another chuckle bubble in Steve’s chest.

Bucky’s heart jumped in joy – it was like gift from heavens to see Steve like this after the days of gloom.

“Jerk.”

“Punk.”

“Thank you,” Steve retorted in the same manner, but Bucky read honest gratitude in the two simple words.

“You’re welcome,” he replied with the similar simplicity and depth they both understood. “Drinks?”

“God, yes.”

“No hard liquor tho, we need you in good shape when your girl calls you back,” Bucky pointed out, satisfied when Steve’s smile widened a fraction more.

“You got yourself a deal, Buck.”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

The night before graduation ceremony, Steve forwarded one of the strangest texts he had ever received to Bucky: Come. Incognito. Blend with the crowd till you get a signal.

Steve apparently wasn’t sure what was your best friend trying to say – or he rather had no clue why would she ask him to do that, why come to the graduation (which made him hopeful) and why in secret (which confused the heck out of him).

He and Bucky agreed that Steve should listen to the advice though; what did he have to lose anyway?

Few minutes before midnight, Steve sent a simple answer: OK.

Several moments later, somewhere in the campus, another phone beeped on a young woman’s nightstand.

Operation: Morons is on.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Part 3 (final for Attached: Hurtful Words)

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Thank you for reading! 

It got a bit out of hand... I really had planned this to be a two-shot for the series, but my usual longwinded writing got in the way. I hope that’s okay and that you liked the Steve-Bucky bro moment at least a bit :)

[happys-crazy-queen22]

Title: Quarantine Lover, Not Really We Hate Each Other

Gif credit @macherierps.

Requested on wattpad.

Hope you all enjoy

Happy reading dollies

Taglist: @ilovetaquitosmmmm. @twistnet. @leaalfred. @nocturnalherb16. @jesseswartzwelder. @mayans-mc. @baylishh.

"Stop staring at me with those beady eyes, Angel Reyes". Groaning as you took a bite from your cereal. Angel sat at the end of the table just glaring at you. This has been happening since the quarantine hit. You two sort of got locked in together. It wasn't meant to happen, you were dropping something off for your father to Angel and then all hell broke loose and you couldn't travel back him. All the hotels and motels were booked. You didnt know anyone else so your father said to stay with Angel until all this was over. It's been almost three months and you can't stand the sight of him anymore.

"You ate all my fucking cereal. Bitch didnt leave me a crumb or anything". Angel shook his head. There was plenty of food in the house but Angel was set on his favorite ceral to get him through the quarantine without killing anyone. He wished he got stuck with Coco, hell he'd even settle for Ez.

"There's more in the cabinet". You mumbled as your mouth was full, pointing to the cabinet behind Angel's head.

"That's for next week. This box was supposed to last me the rest of this week. And you scoffed it down like a little pig".

"That's right. Yum yum yum". You took a big bite of cereal, chewing it up and showing him. He growled and got up from the table. "I'm going for a smoke".

"Remember you can't go outside".

"I'm going on my damn porch, not to the fucking store. Get off my back, woman". He slammed the door behind him, making you chuckle.

As you were cleaning up your dishes, you over heard Angel on the phone. Your father always told you not to ease drop on people because you could get your feelings hurt and that's exactly what happened.

"Listen here man. You need to get your daughter the fuck outta my house. I will mail her to you. She may not get to you in one piece but at least shes out of my damn hair. I can't stand her and I dont know how you haven't taken her out. She's annoying and she needs to go". Angel told your father over the phone. You sighed and went to your room that Angel was letting you stay in for the time being.

You didn't mean to be annoying, Angel isn't no saint either. He's loud, obnoxious, smells weird and he eats with his mouth open. He takes shits with the door open, you've walked past him several times doing that. He's got a loud ass mouth that could be heard around the world. But you haven't been a very good house guest either. So you valued to be better from now on.

Starting with cleaning up, the house was a wreck, beer bottles laying around and old food wrappers. A pot that's been sitting on the stove since before you got there. You were scared to open it so you chucked in the trash and bought Angel a new one online. You cleaned every inch of his house, except his room. You didn't dare go in there.

Angel watched oddly as you cleaned around him. He didn't know what you were up to but he did like that he didnt have to clean and you weren't being as annoying.

"Thanks for cleaning the kitchen". He whispered as he ate his dinner that you cooked. You're surprised he ate and didnt think it was poisoned.

"It's the least I can do since I'm staying here. Thanks for letting me stay and all. You could've thrown me on the streets but you didnt so thank you". You blushed as Angel smiled at you.

A knock on the door made you both jump and your blush disappeared. Angel went to the door and there was six boxes sitting at his front door.

"Who are they for"? You asked trying to seem not suspicious.

"They're addressed to me". He pulled put his knife and cut the first box.

"A pot"? He handed you the pot with a lid.

"Why would someone send me a pot"?

"I kinda threw away the one that was on your stove. I hope that was okay"?

"Good. I was scared to open it myself. I think Coco or Gilly cooked mac n cheese in it and left it. Probably was green and moldy. But you didnt have to do this. It was just a little pot".

"Its nothing". Your blush came back.

Angel opened the other boxes, they had toilet paper, his special shampoo. His cologne. A book he has been wanting and a movie you thought he would like. Then the last box. He sat down on the couch and opened it. A loud chuckle came from him as he took out the boxes of his favorite cereal.

"There's five boxes here so I hope that will last you awhile".

"It will. Thanks again. You didn't have to do this".

"I know. It's a way to make up for being so annoying and in the way".

"I didnt mean that. You're not annoying or in the way. I was just blowing off steam. You're welcomed here, just as long as you eat some of my cereal". He laughed playfully nudged your shoulder.

"Okay". You smiled.

"So you want to watch the movie and eat a bowl of cereal"?

"We just got done with dinner".

"There's always room for cereal". Angel got up from the couch and went to grab two bowls and spoons and the milk. Coming back to sit beside you.

"Okay. I'll put in the movie".

As the movie played and you two ate your cereal, it was actually nice. You two laughed and talked like normal people. No fighting or annoyance. It was cool and it felt right.

"That was a stupid ass movie but I'd watch it again". Angel yawned as he stretched back on the couch.

"It was. Getting kinda late better head off to bed". You say about to get up Angel grabbed your hand.

"Stay". He pulled you down beside him. You nestled into his arm.

"This is nice. Feels right". Angel snuggled into the couch making you warm and cuddly.

"You're right. It does. Weird right"?

"Yeah, after all we've been through together over the past couple months, hating each other. We're finally getting along and I like this. Us two". You felt Angel kiss the top of your head, then laid his head in yours. His arms wrapped around you tightly. Your hands locked together.

"Good night Angel". You snuggled in deep.

"Good night, babe". Angel softly said as he started to doze off.

At first this wasn't the best situation for either of you but you grew on each other, like mold on mac n cheese.

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

Quiet Skies (Smithson Utivich x Fem!Reader)

@owba-chan​ @war-obsessed​ @inglourious-imagines​ @tealaquinn​ @struggling-bee​ @frozenhuntress67​ @kwyloz​ @sodapop182​

Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :)

___________________ May 1942 You and Smithson Utivich... Everyone saw you as two peas in a pod. You were walking down the streets together, one last time.  You had spent every single day of your lives together. You were neighbors, gone to the same school, done everything together all your lives. You'd only graduated high school, both of you were going to the same college. It was perfect... But Smitty decided to enlist. He enlisted the day after the US officially entered the war...but he didn't tell you. It was the very first time he didn't tell you something right away... It was May, now, and he was being sent to bootcamp the next day. He smirked as he looked at you. He knew you were hurt he didn't immediately tell you, even though you never breathed a word about it. He did the one thing he knew. He annoyed you. 

"I heard people saying Howard was ring shopping." You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. Howard had been your boyfriend for about a year or so, but it just wasn't working. He never quite got over it. He was mostly an annoyance, and ever since he got drafted, he wouldn't quit trying to get you to go out with him again. Probably to get a chance to propose. It seemed to bother you more than Smitty anticipated. It was a joke....kind of... Smitty had a ring, too. It wasn't a wedding ring, it was just his class ring. But, it meant just as much, if not more, if he was honest. "What's the matter?" he asked, as he closed his fist around his class ring, in his pocket. You shook your head, "I don't want to just be a face in someone's locket." "What do you mean?"

"I don't want to be a trophy, waiting around years and years for anyone to come home, and then spend the rest of my life expected to be locked in kitchen, and wait for that same ass to come home every single day. I want to do something. Be something." "Well, you are! You're going to NYU, and-" "Without you." You sounded more reproachful than you intended... He sighed, "Look...there's a million things you can do!" "Yeah, yeah..." You sighed, having seen a million advertisements for factory work, fire engine drivers, the nurse corps, war bonds... You muttered sarcastically, "The possibilities are fucking endless." "Why are you upset?" You looked at him. He was being genuine...He really didn't understand why you were hurting so much. "I can do all that while there's a war, sure...But what if...What if..." "What if what?" "What if you don't come back? What do I do then?" He smirked a little, "Find Howard?" You rolled your eyes, and Smitty chuckled, "Hey, I'm coming back, I promise." You looked at him, and knew you couldn't ask him to stay. But you wondered why you couldn't go with him. He knew just what you were thinking and said, "Y'know the world's too scared to let the girls fight. They know you'd really give 'em hell." You smiled softly, though you could feel a knot of tears in your throat. You looked away, "It's getting late, Smitty..." He nodded, "I'll walk you home, like old times." "We're fucken neighbors, Smitty," You chuckled, and he smiled, "Come on," He nudged you with his elbow as he smiled. He wasn't going to argue or ask anything. He knew you weren't ok. Who would be? You were both quiet on your walk back home. You stopped at your door, and he called out, "Goodnight!" Just as he had every day of his life. You sighed, lowering your keys, as you turned around with teary eyes, and a broken smile. "Goodnight, Smitty." He lingered for a second longer than usual, and you took a breath. You ran back down the steps and threw your arms around him. His arms wrapped around you as you both swayed side to side in your silent goodbye. You pressed your eyes shut as you rested your head on his shoulder. You could have sworn that by the time you let go, and opened your eyes, the war would have been over, years would have passed. Instead, you were still standing by the dim porch light, under the same stars. There was no skipping ahead. Every moment mattered... When it was over, he walked away quietly. He knew you hated saying goodbye, so he didn't put you through that. You slumped down on the steps to your door, and glanced to the side. As he opened his front door, he looked at you with a quiet smile. A wordless promise that you'd see him again. *January, 1943* The newly assembled team of basterds stood in a line, waiting to board a plane that would fly them from England to nazi-occupied France. Aldo chuckled, seeing some of the younger basterds' tense, worried faces. "Don't you worry now, boys. Now, I flown in this here rickety plane before," He chuckled, recognizing that cheeky nose art. "Pilot scared the shit outta me, 'n all them boys when we jumped in Italy. But Flight Officer L/N's one hell of a pilot. Best of the OSS, I'd say." Omar squinted as he looked at the side of the plane, "Are those fucking bullet holes?" Hirschberg was more worried about something else, "That a fucking burn mark under that paint?!" Aldo rolled his eyes, "Well the plane and pilot are still in one goddamn piece, and'll make sure we stay that way too." Donny crossed his arms, annoyed that the clock was ticking, and spotting a storm coming in from the distance, "Speaking of the goddamn pilot, ain't he supposed to be here right about fucken now?" "Sorry to disappoint, boys." You marched in, grinning, knowing you threw Donny off. Donny stammered as you turned to Aldo, and saluted him, "Lieutenant Raine." He grinned, though he shota glance at the rest of the basterds, reminding them that you outranked them, "Flight Officer L/N." You stood in front of your plane, and looked at the basterds, waiting. They each saluted you, including the dumb-struck staff sergeant.

The very last one to salute you, though, was none other than Smithson Utivich. His hand was shaking, his knees felt weak, and his mouth dropped. You stopped for a moment. You knew this day would come... But what else could you do? You filed each basterd into the plane. Smitty was the last one. You both waited a moment, standing outside the plane. You smiled, "I"m so proud of you, Sm-" He threw his arms around you, "Y/n, where have you....WH...What are you doing here?!" "Flying you to France?" He rolled his eyes, "I thought...I didn't know..." You chuckled, "I know...Come on, let's not keep anyone waiting." "But-" You looked back at him, "There'll be time, some day...private." You chuckled, and he couldn't really say anything. "I can't believe you fucking outrank me," he laughed as he climbed into the plane. The moment he stepped in, the rest of the basterds were straight-faced and looking right at him. "What?" Omar managed to sputter, "You know L/n?" He raised his eyebrow in confusion, and nodded, "All my life..." Donny smirked, "And you didn't introduce us because-"

"I didn't know she joined the army..." Utivich cracked a smile, and glanced back to the front of the plane. He was proud of you. The rest of the flight, he couldn't help but glance at you. He was quiet, compared to the rest of the basterds. The whole flight was relatively smooth, until you flew just over Nazi occupied France. The plane was immediately met with machine gun fury. You flipped the light, signaling the basterds' imminent jump. Aldo jumped first, saluted you with a sly grin, as he shouted over the howling winds, "See ya 'round, kid!" One by one, they each jumped. You were taking heavy fire, and knew you had to get out of there soon. You glanced back, and realized Utivich was still there. He was looking right at you, with wide, terrified eyes. You shouted just loud enough for him to hear, "I can handle this! Go!" He stopped at the exit, and looked back at you, "Y/n....give 'em hell." He was hesitating, his eyes were teary as they looked into yours. Suddenly, your plane took another hit, and one of the engines caught fire. "FUCK." You were going down. You marched over to Utivich, "Oh what the hell..." You muttered as you pulled him close to yourself, and kissed him. As you did, he slipped something into your pocket... Speechless, he looked right at you, as you shouted loud enough for him to hear, "Goodnight, Smitty." "What?!" You pushed him out of the plane, and rushed back to the controls, trying to get a hold over the plane, doing every last thing you could. He screamed as he parachuted down, getting out every ounce of anger and fear. He wasn't afraid of the nazis, the machine guns, or the fire. He was afraid of losing you So he screamed your name, watching as smoke engulfed your plane. By  the time he touched the ground, he could barely see the fiery carcass of the plane, struggling to stay in the sky. Any ounce of hope was drowned out by distant engines and gunfire. He was silent, as he kneeled in the mud, watching the lights in the skies through teary eyes. He watched until the rest of the basterds, already regrouped, and found him. Smitty never knew what exactly happened to you. He wasn't legally anything special to you, so there was no reason for the OSS to say a word to him. He wasn't even allowed to get letters from his mother... And if anything happened to you, she'd know from your mother. But he didn't get to know... So every time he saw the stars, he wondered what happened that night. He wondered where you were... Years went by and he didn't know a thing at all. But, after everything he saw during his time at war, he expected the worst. So when it was all said and done... when he finally went home, he still didn't know what had become of you. It was 1945 now... He got out of the cab, and went to his house, just at the top of the hill in the neighborhood. He walked past your house, and his heart was heavy, seeing the dim porch light was on, just as it always was. He couldn't face your parents... If you died the night you flew him over France, they probably weren't allowed to know anything about the mission. They wouldn't have known he was there. He won the war, but his eyes were heavy, and his mind was guilty thinking he'd lost you. He was tired. The medal of honor was still around his neck, and it would hold the weight of the world until he saw you again. He could barely lift his arm as he held out his keys to the front door. He didn't have to. His mother heard the keys she hadn't heard it years, and flung the doors open, and pulled him inside. For a moment, he could breathe. He slowly raised his arms and held her, his keys dropped on the ground. There would be time to pick them up later.

When the tears and hellos were done, and his family went to bed, he snuck out to the porch. A few years before, he wouldn't have gone past the hallway without being caught. But he made it to the porch, and sat on the steps. He could hear a car driving slowly down the street. It was strange... It was past midnight. You'd always lived in such a quiet neighborhood, he wondered if someone was working as a nurse or something like that now. Maybe that was all. Then he heard footsteps, but thought nothing of it. He sat quietly, looking in the quiet skies, thinking of nothing. Quiet skies....that wasn't something he didn't know he missed until that very night. For a moment, everything was quiet. There were no footsteps, no cars, no crickets. He hardly noticed. He only noticed when he heard a sound he'd heard all his life, and a voice to go along with it. "Goodnight, Smitty!" You called out from your porch, as you held your keys to the door. You were still in your uniform. You'd set a dufflebag down on the steps. He stood up immediately, though his knees were shaking. He ran over, and threw his arms around you, "You're alive!" "I promised I'd give em hell, didn't I?" You smiled as you wiped away his tears with your thumb. That didn't stop you from tearing up through your smile, as you held on to his collar, "But you ended the war, didn't you?" "I wouldn't have even made it there if you weren't there. This medal...it belongs to you." You giggled, and shook your head, "No Smitty. It's yours." You smiled softly, and held his hand. He looked down, and saw you wearing his class ring. That was what he'd slipped into your pocket before he dropped into France. He nodded, understanding, and smiled a little, though his voice was still breaking. "I know you didn't want to be a face in a locket...but you were always on my mind." He looked up at the sky, "I didn't know what happened to you that night...every time I saw the stars, I wondered....I wondered if I'd see you again..." You sighed softly, heart slightly broken. You swore you wouldn't wait around for some soldier boy to come home... It never occured to you that a soldier boy was hoping you would come home. You placed your hands on his cheeks, "I promised..." He nodded, "I know... I know you did..." He smiled softly, and looked at you. There was no more waiting. No more wondering... There was no hesitation. You kissed again. This time, under dim porchlihgt, instead of  by the hellfire of a downed engine. This time, surrounded by familiar places, instead of smoke. This time, you were under quiet skies, instead of the roaring ones you knew not so long ago. This time, as you looked into each other's eyes.... You were home.

[indiavolojones]

anon your MIND… 

 YE━(｡･`ω´･｡)ゞ ━S!!

Idk if you meant this as a request but I did it!!! I hope you like this incredibly spur of the moment, university wicked au lmfaoaoooo

5kish words, gen, asmo/solomon

“I can’t concentrate on coursework or go to bed if you’ve got someone moaning in your bed every other night.”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” Asmo sniffs, and Solomon very quickly finds the situation slipping through his fingers. All of his phenomenally constructed arguments for why Asmo should be a respectful roommate have disintegrated in the face of Asmo’s pure obstinance. “Besides, where would I take my partners if not to my room?”

“Their rooms. A car. A bathroom.  A dark alcove somewhere. I don’t care--anywhere else but here.”

Pls keep in mind a bunch of small notes:

-I haven’t seen Wicked, only listened to the soundtrack! I don’t remember what happened to make them room together/much of the plot hahaha. This is less of a wicked au and more a magical college au, whoooo~ -I made up so much shit for this. I was pulling lore outta my ass like nobody’s business -Everyone is human! -I skipped around a lot, so if there’s something that doesn’t make sense pls ask and I’ll clarify hahaha, I wanted to keep this short!! (is,.... 5k short...)

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-

“We're all supposedly the best of the best, and yet none of us could stop a burst pipe," Solomon bemoans the status of their old dormitory.

“In our defense, it happened in the middle of the night and we had no idea what was going on?" Simeon offers, tilting his head with a sympathetic smile.

"But midway through the semester!" Solomon won't admit that the loss of one of his few friends being constantly at his side is more daunting than he thought it would be. Simeon is a phenomenal roommate, and understands Solomon better than anyone.

With the unfortunate mad dash to get all the affected students into new, undamaged rooms, the two of them are being split up, and now Solomon will have to get used to another, likely annoying roommate.

"I never realized you were this dependent on me." Simeon teases, and Solomon glares at him. Simeon swirls himself around in Solomon’s desk chair while Solomon walks by, cardboard box in his arms. Just to annoy him, his foot shoots out to stop Simeon mid-spin, and Simeon huffs, looking up at him.  

“Didn’t you say you were going to help?” Solomon asks.

Simeon laughs.

“You asked me to come help move boxes? I thought it was for sure because of you freaking out at getting a new roommate.” Solomon’s lips quirk downwards, and turns his head away with a scoff as he brings the box to the corner of his new dorm. Simeon props an elbow up on Solomon’s desk and watches the other.

“What could you possibly do to help with that?” Solomon asks, palm pressing to the box and releasing the sealing spell on it. “Do you have a solution for this?”

He gestures at the other half of the (thankfully) large room.

Instead of the traditional bunk bed and lower desk set like on Solomon's side of the room, the other half of the room consists of a large wardrobe as additional closet space, an extravagant vanity filled with beauty products, and a nest. A massive nest of pillows, sheets, and blankets—describing it feels ridiculous, but to look on its glory is surprisingly enticing. It does look… very comfortable.

“I think it looks rather nice,” Simeon examines the fairy lights strung up around the walls near the bed. The edges of his roommate's influence barely encroach onto what Solomon would consider to be his side, but as he’s the one imposing on this person’s space halfway into the year… he’ll bite his tongue.

Realistically, there’s no reason for RAD to have shared dorm rooms--the school is prestigious enough that each student could probably get their own living suite… but the chancellor of their particular location is the direct son of the president. He’s a bit eccentric, and enthusiastically vocal about the benefits of shared dorms as integral to the relationships they develop with their peers.

(There are things Solomon’s heard of him too: how he’s the youngest person in his role, how despite the accusations of nepotism he’s completely taken the magical community by storm in his unconventional approach to education.

An interesting man that Solomon would enjoy meeting face to face, rather than admire on a podium, even if he is quite handsome.)

Simeon purses his lips, before snapping his fingers, “A privacy screen?”

Solomon rolls his eyes hard enough that they feel like falling out of his sockets.

“I don’t know why you’re so up in arms about this. I’m sure your roommate will be fine,” Simeon says then, gentle--Solomon looks at the opposite side of the room and has his doubts. “It’ll be good for you to try making more than three friends, you know.”

Taking the books out of the box and lining them up on the shelves of the book case, Solomon tosses a glance back at Simeon.

Simeon isn’t wrong.

Solomon could be the most powerful sorcerer in the world, but it means absolutely nothing if he can’t effectively operate in the modern magical community. Maybe if he was born several hundred years earlier he could have swept up the world in the sheer magnitude of his power, but nowadays, politics infect everything. Solomon can’t patent a spell to wipe his ass without a sponsor, and no one wants to sponsor the intense kid with a bad attitude.

His ability to cast magic without any kind of aide or incantation launched him into the spotlight at an early age. Solomon has always been aware of what other people thought of him. When empty praise didn’t ingratiate his sycophants to him, it just as easily turned to criticism; kids are cruel, after all. As a result, Solomon has always struggled connecting with others.

By the time he realized he would have to work on his people skills to get anywhere, he was halfway through high school with a bad reputation, no friends, and no open doors.

(Funnily enough, it was around the same time that he met Simeon that he realized he needed to be less of an asshole if he was to ever get anywhere in life.

Simeon has been integral in teaching Solomon "how to person", as he puts it.)

“Who’s your new roommate, anyway?” Simeon asks when Solomon doesn’t respond to his comment. “I don’t think you said their name.”

"Did I not?” Solomon hums, “It’s someone named Mephistopheles.”

“Mephistopheles?” Simeon parrots, head tilting to the side, “Didn’t he get expelled?”

As Solomon opens his mouth to question Simeon, the door handle jiggles as someone unlocks it.

It swings open unceremoniously, followed by the quiet moans and shuffling of clothes as two people stumble inside the threshold. Simeon and Solomon can only watch in stunned silence as the taller, curly haired man presses a shorter woman against the wall, his face fully obscured in the curve of her neck as he lavishes it in open mouthed kisses.

Her eyelids flutter, he must be doing a great job--but the second she makes eye contact with Solomon, she shrieks.

“Asmo, Asmo wait--” The girl bats at his chest, her face bright red, “There’s people here!” Asmo pulls his face away from her skin to look at the room, a gorgeous smile on his face as he notices the others does not falter in the slightest.

“Oh, you’re Solomon!” Asmo smiles, before looking at Simeon, “And you’re Simeon. Lovely to meet you both.” Solomon looks at Simeon for some kind of hint as to what the fuck he should do here,  but Simeon also seems at a loss. Before either of them can say anything, Asmo slides a hand up the girl’s side to cup her cheek, speaking to them even as he stares deep into her eyes.

“Now, would the two of you kindly get out?”

-

-

-

The rest of living with Asmo is pretty much a continued repeat of their first meeting. Multiple times a week, sometimes once or twice in a day. Solomon has no fucking clue how someone like Asmo gets any schoolwork done, or hell, when the other gets sleep?

Regardless, it’s two weeks of Asmo getting laid and Solomon not getting proper amounts of sleep, and he’s sick of it.

“There need to be,” Solomon grimaces, swirling around in his desk chair but faltering as Asmo emerges from the bathroom, toweling his hair and jeans hanging low on his hips, “...ground rules.”

Asmo tilts his head, “Rules?” He says the words like it’s a foreign language, new and clunky in his pretty mouth. Solomon wants to sock him.

“You can’t keep bringing partners back here,” Solomon says. Asmo goes back to toweling his perfect fucking hair.

“And why is that?”

“I can’t concentrate on coursework or go to bed if you’ve got someone moaning in your bed every other night.”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” Asmo sniffs, and Solomon very quickly finds the situation slipping through his fingers. All of his phenomenally constructed arguments for why Asmo should be a respectful roommate have disintegrated in the face of Asmo’s pure obstinance. “Besides, where would I take my partners if not to my bedroom?”

“Their rooms. A dark alcove somewhere. A car. A bathroom. I don’t care--anywhere else but here.”

Asmo ponders this for a moment, before he shrugs his shoulders as he walks across the room to his drawers by the window, “Nope. I don’t think that’s considerate for them.” He digs through to presumably find a shirt, and Solomon bites the bullet.

“You’re on academic probation, aren’t you?” Solomon says, and Asmo freezes with his back turned to Solomon, tension evident in the line of his shoulders. When he turns around, his expression is colder than anything Solomon’s ever seen directed at him. In his brother Levi’s words, there it is: the infamous Bitch Smile.

“I didn’t know you cared about gossip,” Asmo looks like a dragon picking his teeth with human bones as he sits against the window sill.

The afternoon light drifting in through the sheer curtains casts him in an ethereal glow, and Solomon bites back his unnecessary request for Asmo to move out of such flattering lighting so he can negotiate with him properly.

“I don’t, which is how I know it’s true.”

“And? What? You’re going to try and blackmail me with this information?” Asmo sneers, but even crippling distaste is an attractive look for the other.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Solomon scoffs, “I’m offering to tutor you.”

Asmo blinks at that.

“I won’t tell anyone. You know my grades. Half of our required classes are together, so it’s not like it would put me under any more stress than not sleeping. And I’m not unreasonable,” Solomon says, “If you must bring people over, just let me know in advance and I’ll go to a coffee shop or the library. I do need to sleep, so I want them out by nine or ten at the latest.”

Asmo doesn’t immediately say no like Solomon thought he would, so things are already going much better than he expected. However, it still does not prepare him for Asmo’s response.

“Fine. Is that all you want?” He asks, and Solomon pointedly ignores the double entendre.  

“I want one of the shelves in the bathroom cabinet,” Solomon blurts, because Asmo has too many beauty products and there’s no space for him in the current set up. Asmo’s brow rises, even as his mouth twist into a wry, surprised smile.

“Maybe.”

“I can work with maybe,” Solomon smiles in return, standing and extending his hand out for a shake. “It’s a deal, then?”

Asmo stares at the hand, his expression unreadable, before something seems to break. He pushes off the window sill and in a few short strides, huffing with laughter, “What’s with the handshake? So formal.”

Solomon doesn’t rise to the bait even if there is a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. This is the first time they’ve touched, he realizes as his magic hums as Asmo’s hand is warm and steady in his own.

“It’s a deal.” Asmo says, and there’s a hint of interest in his eyes as he seems to see Solomon in a new light.

-

-

-

Solomon doesn’t mean to overhear it. He spends so much time in RAD’s library that it’s essentially his second home.

“How’s your shady roommate?” He hears a voice say, and it’s familiar enough to jarr Solomon from his thoughts.

A tinkling laugh, and Solomon blinks in realization. Asmo? Solomon tries to not eavesdrop, tries so hard to not let his interest wander from the potion formula in front of him, because it really has been giving him trouble...

“He’s not bad. Too stiff. Looks great when he comes out of the shower,” Asmo purrs. Solomon feels the bright pink blush rise to his cheeks. They’re talking openly about this in a library, of all places. RAD’s library is unreasonably huge, though--even on a busy weekday, one could be several aisles away from another human being in this space.

They’re both taking the same potions class, so it’s not too far off the mark that they’d both be in the same area looking for reading materials. Solomon should really just leave before he hears anything else that makes his ears burn.

“I don’t trust him.” Asmo’s brother, Satan, says. Of course. Solomon grinds his teeth. Asmo hmms.

“He definitely has a weird powerful vibe about him. I don’t blame you. His face just looks like he’s up to something,” Solomon swallows the spike of hurt that hits at Asmo’s words, even if he’s heard them before. Two months since he started tutoring Asmo. Three months since he moved in. Their cohabitation isn’t domestic, but it is at least civil. “I’ve seen him sleep but I don’t believe it, you know? I’ve never seen him do anything for fun. He’s so pent up and proper that I’m not sure how he does it.”

“He doesn’t.” Satan tsks, “You’ve heard about what happened, right?” Solomon feels his blood run cold.

That was different. It was an accident. He was a child. He was weak then. Solomon would never do anything like that on purpose again. Surely, surely Asmo wouldn’t--

“Of course! It figures though, all the super powerful kids are fucked in the head. But other than that, he’s not bad.”

But he’s not bad. But he’s not bad. As if Solomon would ever settle for not bad after such an callous description of his person. Fury, the kind that makes his magic churn under his skin at a rolling boil, rises in him: at Satan, at Asmo, at himself for.. For what? Believing that Asmo may actually have been different? That they could have been friends?

“What was that?” Satan asks, likely sensing the swirl of Solomon’s magic.

Cursing inwardly, he wrangles his wild emotions under control through years of practice. He will not prove them right. Solomon closes his textbook. His chair screeches against the floor as he stands, Satan and Asmo crossing out of the aisle into the open study area where Solomon has been seated, completely unhidden.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Satan accuses, his bright green eyes sharp and disdainful.

Years and years of diligently studying. Never losing his temper. His single minded determination to better himself has erected a wall that others look on in contempt. Do not prove them right about you, Solomon tells himself, nails digging into his palms hard enough to leave red crescent marks. Do not let the rumors be true.

He cannot look at Asmo, so instead, he smiles at Satan.

“No,” Solomon laughs, and the politeness in it is so fake that it hurts, “I was studying for the same test that Asmo is studying for. Voices carry quite well in a library.”

Satan glances at Asmo, but Solomon still cannot look at him. Tossing his book haphazardly into his bag, he throws it over his shoulder.

“I’ll leave the two of you to it, then.”

-

-

-

“Solomon, hey, wait!” Solomon is not running away, but he has a very brisk pace and does not feel bad when Asmo has to job to catch up with him. “Listen, about what I said--”

Solomon stops sharply enough that Asmo almost runs into him, but Solomon uses his magic to help steady Asmo. It isn’t to be helpful, it’s to stop Asmo from getting close enough to touch him, as if that will protect him from all of these hurt, churning emotions. He exhales through his nose.

“Since you’re actually taking the time to go to the library… I don’t think you need my help anymore.” Solomon forces himself to look at Asmo, steeling himself against whatever petulant expression is probably on the other’s face.

“Right?”

Asmo’s face is not petulant in the slightest. He seems… upset? Solomon feels the beast snarl inside him, a lick of rage at the downtrodden expression on the other’s face. He gets caught shit talking him openly and then has the gall to look hurt when he gets his free tutoring cut off? Asmo’s family is disgustingly rich and well connected. Let him lose his pride and ask them for help.

Solomon will last the year. He and Simeon will room together next year. Asmodeus will not be what breaks him.

Asmo falters at the intensity of Solomon’s gaze, the severity of his words.

“... Right.” Asmo says, and Solomon lets his feet carry him away before either of them say anything else.

- - -

After a week of tense, peaceful avoidance, Satan dropping into the seat opposite him at the campus coffee shop is the last thing Solomon expects.

“I apologize for my conduct the other day.”

Solomon blinks at him.

What is Satan doing here? Irritation immediately blossoms in his chest--he may not be furious anymore, but that doesn’t mean he wants to see Satan, nor had he expected to.

After cancelling their tutoring sessions, he’s made it a point to spend as little time in their (when had it become their room? It was always Asmo’s room at first) room as possible. Sure, it means spending garbage amounts of money on overpriced coffee and shitty wi-fi when the library gets too stuffy, but at least he can breathe.

None of that explains why Satan is here. Apologizing to him. Surely it must be some kind of a trap? A childish prank? Really? Would Asmo stoop so low? He doesn’t know either of these brothers enough to truly say. It’s best for him to be polite for now, until he can figure out Satan’s true motiv--

“You realize that a lot of people don’t trust you because there’s a moment on your face where you look like you’re actively plotting, and then you say some polite nonsense,” Satan says, and Solomon’s brain stops like a record screeching.

“Is this really an apology.” Solomon says, drily. Satan shrugs his shoulders.

“That was an observation. This is the apology.” Satan clears his throat, looking Solomon straight in the eyes. “It was unbecoming of me to speak of you like that in public. I should know better, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s what you thought,” Solomon says, because it’s true. It’s what they all think, and for a good chunk of his life, Solomon rarely tried to make them think differently.

“It was ignorant.” Satan’s bright green eyes stare into his own, and Solomon senses no dishonesty in his words. When Solomon speaks, he finds that he actually might believe them.

“Apology accepted.” Now leave me alone.

Satan narrows his eyes, “Really?” Solomon resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, really.”

“Will you speak to my brother again, then?”

“It’s a little presumptuous of you to ask for my forgiveness and a favor in the same breath.”

“Asmo flunked the last test,” Satan says, in lieu of a proper answer, “He’s in a world of shit at the moment.”

“Why doesn’t he try flirting with the professor?” Solomon scoffs.

Satan props his chin up on his hand with a lopsided smile that’s far more relaxed than he’s ever seen from the fourth brother, “That’s the thing, he hasn’t. Lucifer chewed him out about it and he took it with his tail between his legs rather than kick up a fit about it too.” Solomon’s quick mind lets him skip over the next lines of whatever shitty banter they’ve got to reach Satan’s point.

“You want me to tutor him again.” Solomon asks in disbelief, despite himself. Satan snorts and leans back.

“Nothing so pedantic as that,” Satan waves the notion away, “Just stop avoiding him at every turn, and hear what he has to say. If you’re still mad at him after that, then that’s perfectly reasonable too, considering my brother is one of the biggest assholes to ever exist. He’s unbearably dramatic when he gets into fights with his friends.”

“... Friends?”

Satan stares at him like he’s grown another head, “Obviously.”

Solomon laughs so hard, he’s sure that he’s confirmed all of Satan’s weird opinions of him.

-

-

-

“Solomon?” Asmo breathes his name, hand lingering on the doorknob as he enters the room to see Solomon sitting in his desk chair.

“Satan talked to me,” Solomon says, reveling in the stunned look on Asmo’s face, before crossing his arms, ”He apologized for what he said. And then he asked me to at least hear you out because you’re sulking.”  Asmo pouts at Satan’s words, and Solomon quirks his brow.

“Is he wrong?”

In response to this, Asmo’s face looks pained, lips pressing together as he glances to the side. He’s like a petulant child, Solomon thinks, even if he’s somehow still amused by the other’s expression.

When Asmo looks at Solomon, and he throws his hands up in the air,  “I shouldn’t have said it. There, are you happy?”

“Not really,” Solomon admits, “I understand why your brother might think that of me, but to hear it from someone that I’m helping out...” He adds a little bit of a softer, sadder tone to his voice to make Asmo writhe, and ha, does it work.

Asmo groans, ruffling his hands through his hair, “Alright, I’m a dick! Are you happy? I’m a gossipy bitch and I say things I shouldn’t. You helped me out and I.. took advantage of it. I’m sorry!” Asmo’s arms cross, and he looks so genuinely uncomfortable that Solomon wants to laugh.  

“You’re terrible at this. I was confused as to why Satan might say I can still be mad at you after you say your piece but.. I get it. You’re even worse than he is at it, dare I say.”

“You haven’t met our eldest brother,” Asmo sniffs, before continuing, “Besides, words and emotions are hard, bodies are easier,” Asmo shrugs, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“You sound like a bad high school drama,” Solomon scoffs, rolling over Asmo’s affronted gasp, “In any case, I heard you flunked the last test we shared. Maybe if you spent less time flirting with the TA in that class, you could retain the information on the board.” Solomon brings his knuckles to his chin, holding his elbow in his other palm.

“It can’t be helped. If we can get you set up with some extra credit there and you ace the next few exams that should keep your grade above water.” Solomon runs the numbers in his head, but Asmo is waving his hands in the air.

“Wait, wait, waaaait! You’re forgiving me?”

“I’m considering it. You have to make it up to me somehow, but as for the tutoring.. we’re too close to exams for me to want to deal with another roommate if you get yourself suspended. I don’t have blackmail material on anyone else, unfortunately.” Solomon’s kidding about the blackmail, but Asmo deserves a little ribbing after that awful apology.

Although Asmo doesn’t seem offended by the joke. No, it actually seems to be... the opposite? As he speaks, Asmo’s looking at him with a blinding smile.

“Are you listening to me?” Solomon frowns, knocked off balance by Asmo’s expression, “Because if you aren’t, I swear i’m going to--”

A flurry of motion, Asmo crosses the space of their room quicker than Solomon’s ever seen him.

Asmo’s hand cups his face, the other lands on his hip; Solomon has very little time to think, because Asmo’s gorgeous face is in centimeters away from his own. The scent of Asmo’s perfume fills his senses, rendering him stunned--Asmo glances down at his parted lips, and then back up at Solomon’s eyes.

Asmo kisses him, and Solomon’s magic blows out the fuses in their entire building.

-

-

-

In the chaos of their plunge into darkness, Solomon’s hands shooting out to shove Asmo back accidentally activates his magic, and Asmo stumbles a few paces further before falling to the ground.

“Ah,” Asmo yelps, at the same time Solomon rises from his seat, “What the hell, Asmo?”

They’re not in total darkness, thanks to the dim light from the streetlamps outside, but it still takes Solomon’s eyes a few seconds to adjust. Asmo’s vague form is still seated on the floor, propped up on his elbows.

“What was that?” He demands, still haunted by the firm press of Asmo’s lips against his. Asmo shifts to get up, and Solomon’s arm immediately reaches out to offer his assistance. Asmo huffs at the motion, but takes his hand anyway.

“I thought I could make it up to you this way.”

“By offering to, what, make out with me?” Solomon says, disbelief mounting. Asmo shrugs his shoulders, one hand trailing up Solomon’s hip.

“Sure, we could do that. We could do whatever you want,” and now that Solomon’s eyes have adjusted to the dim lighting, he can see the coy smile playing at Asmo’s lips, “I see how you look at me, how could you not? Besides, you’re quite handsome yourself…” Asmo purrs, his free hand reaching up to graze against Solomon’s blushing cheeks.

For a moment, Solomon hesitates--Asmo is gorgeous. Even if Solomon were deaf to the campus’ adoration of him, he would have to be blind as well to not realize that just by existing near Asmo. There’s always a mix of challenging and inviting in his eyes, an ease that shows itself in all of his movements. Asmo exudes a level of sensual energy that is a powerful skill in its own right, and Solomon is a healthy young adult…

But Solomon has no desire to fall into Asmo’s bed like another one of his hundreds of admirers, clamoring to get into the other’s bed space. He has more important things in mind.  

“That’s not what I meant by making it up to me!” Solomon is very proud of his voice not cracking as he pushes Asmo’s hand away, and the coquettish expression is quickly replaced by Asmo’s pout.

“Well, how else am I supposed to show you how truly repentant I am!” He whines at his failed seduction.

“I can’t even begin to explain how screwed up that is, Asmo.” Solomon groans, running his hand through his hair, “You could have offered me another shelf in the bathroom cabinet or more sink space and I would have considered it a start.”  

Asmo blinks, tilting his head to the side, “... Really? That’s all you want?” He seems stunned that someone would turn down his body.

“Now that I know you were going to offer your body, half of the sink sounds too fucking small, doesn’t it?” Solomon retorts, and Asmo laughs.

A loud knock startles both of them out of their conversation, and he hears the muffled voice of their RA from the other side.

“Are you alright in there? There’s been a power outage -- will you be alright casting magelight, or do you need flashlights?”

Solomon, in desperate need of a reprieve from Asmo’s… Asmo-ness… goes to open the door as the RA speaks. After a quick exchange of assuring the doting senior in their pajamas, Solomon shuts the door with a sigh. When he turns around, Asmo is seated in his desk chair with a soft pink magelight floating idly nearby. Asmo seems to be deep in thought, and Solomon approaches him with slight hesitation.

As soon as Solomon gets closer, Asmo’s gaze snaps up to look at him so suddenly that Solomon almost balks.

“I know what I can do for you,” Asmo says, his eyes twinkling with mischief and utter glee. The pink light casts an almost eerie, and somehow still enticing shadow on the other’s face.  

Solomon isn’t too proud to admit he’s terrified by whatever Asmo is about to offer.

-

-

-

“... So you didn’t sleep with him?” Simeon asks, and Solomon chokes on his tea.

“What! Of course not!” He coughs through his instantaneous response, pounding his fist on his chest. “He said… oh hell, I can’t say this, it’s ridiculous.” Solomon covers his face with his hands, an unbidden blush rising to his cheeks.

“He said he was going to make me popular,” Solomon groans, a little quieter in volume. Simeon is silent for a long enough time that Solomon takes his face out of his hands to look at him questioningly, but Simeon’s got one hand over his mouth as he shakes in stifled amusement.

“Wh--” At Solomon’s confused expression, Simeon is unable to contain himself any longer, bursting into a loud fit of laughter. Simeon throws his arms around Solomon in a crushing hug, even as Solomon tries to shove his way out of it.

“Oh, this is going to be great.”  

-

-

-

I feel like this would definitely be considered #crack or #ooc slightly because it’s always hard to translate personalities that are defined by specific experiences (such as being alive for thousands of years) into any AU, but especially ones where they’re only 19/20 year olds lmaaoo

Facets of their personalities I tried to keep: Solomon’s ambition/the fact that people think he’s so shifty, and Asmo’s sexual bravado/blatant insecurities of his person. Who knows if that comes off here, but hey, I had fun lkajflaks

As always, ty for reading!!! I appreciate your kind words and responses on my stuff ;w;

[kalypsichor]

oh darling [ beatles x reader ]

summary: backstage on the England leg of your tour, you meet the four Liverpool boys of your dreams

prompt: can i request a reader who’s a musician/singer and a big beatles fan so they sing their favorite songs at a concert (my peronal faves are “honey pie”, “oh, darling!” or “for no one”, but you can choose!) and the boys were secretly there!! the boys meet them after the show and the reader just loses it?? maybe some romance?? warnings: too much backstory, badly researched 60s slang

i’m fudging the timeline around so that in this fic oh! darling was released in the early 60s instead of in abbey road and reader is meeting them in the mid 60s. reader is american and I incorporated some romance but left it open-ended. more notes at the end!

masterlist

This is what you love most about touring. A thousand faces shining with the glow of the stage in dark concert halls; the satisfying dig of guitar strings into your fingertips; each inhale of breath that rushes into your lungs and is converted to notes ringing with clarity, clashing with dissonance; and the raw electricity of it all.

As the last chord of the song fades into the air, you allow yourself a giddy, adrenaline-fueled smile. The crowd roars and stomps their feet and you can feel the ground vibrating underneath your feet. It takes a while to get them to quiet down, and when they finally do, you lean in towards the mic.

“I’d like to thank y’all again for coming to tonight’s show!” Cue more screaming. “We’re going to close out with a song by a band you probably haven’t heard of— very underground, very obscure, you know. One of your lot. This is Oh! Darling.”

The crowd erupts into more cheers and you allow yourself to reminisce about the first time you’d heard this song on the radio. A few years younger and without a nickel to your name, your band had been just a hobby during the off-seasons of school. In the sweltering New Orleans summer, crammed into a friend’s garage, you wrote and played songs inspired by the local rhythm and blues so popular at the time. It was all just for your own enjoyment, of course— you didn’t think that anyone outside of Louisiana would like your kind of music. But you loved the slow grinding tempos and the strong backbeats that were so fun to dance to, even if you and your bandmates were the only ones who’d ever sing or dance to them.

Until, of course, you changed a radio station one day and suddenly heard that very same rhythm and blues from some internationally known band called The Beatles. “Well,” you said, turning to your bandmates, “if some pasty English boys can play it on the radio, why can’t we?” So the band began booking gigs at local bars, then theaters, then across the world as its popularity grew. All the while, you fell in love with the English band, buying every new record and learning your favorites on guitar.

And here you were on tour in Britain years later, living a dream you could barely believe. A giddy smile spreads across your face as you realize the enormity of being here at all, thousands of miles away from home and singing the song that started it all. Your fingers pluck the familiar strings and you feel yourself settle into a nostalgic beat.

Oh! Darling, please believe me I’ll never do you no harm…

When it’s over and you take your last bow, sweat beads your face and neck and you want nothing more than a cold shower and a bottle of champagne. The din of cheers and claps follows you into the wings of the stage where your manager waits with an odd smile on her face.

“Some people here to see you,” she says. You grab a cup of water from one of the assistants and down it like, well, water.

“I thought we weren’t letting fans backstage today.”

“Yes, but these aren’t the usual fans. They’re… you have to see for yourself.”

You set down the glass, already wishing you were in bed. “Look, Grace, I’m sorry but it’s just not a good time. I don’t care if it’s the Kennedy’s or Jesus Christ himself, tell them to come back later.”

“It’s been said that we’re bigger than Jesus, y’know.”

If you turned your head any faster you would’ve gotten whiplash. That familiar Scouse accent that you’ve only heard in records and interviews… but there was no way it was—

“John Lennon?” It’s your drummer, Thomas, who speaks. “You’re John Lennon. God, that’s unreal. I’m talking to John fucking Lennon.”

“Oh, don’t mind us, we’re just backdrop,” grumbles one of the other three. He’s got dark, intense eyes under heavy brows and a mop of hair. This is George Harrison in the flesh and blood, and he would seem very serious if it weren’t for his toothy, almost canine grin. You feel a thrill race down your spine from the almost predatory look that he gives you.

Kate, the bassist, peers over your shoulder. “Y’all are a lot shorter in person,” she comments. Then, quietly to you, “Close your mouth, honey. You’re catching flies out here.”

You really hope you’re not drooling. It’s no big deal, right? Except that your idols are standing right in front of your eyes, mop-tops and all. You suddenly become hyper-aware of how your hair is plastered to your face and yet somehow also sticking up in eighty different directions. Why didn’t you use more product? More importantly, why haven’t you said a single word yet? They must think you’re some kind of idiot. Okay, do something before it becomes awkward. A handshake! A handshake is good.

You stick out a trembling hand. “Hi,” you say, voice breathy and high like some kind of schoolgirl with a crush.

Too late, you realize that there’s no way all four of them can shake your hand, idiot, and you’ve already come up with four different ways to fake your own death and never speak to anyone again when Paul McCartney (Paul! Freaking! McCartney!) takes your palm with a gentle but steady grasp. He brings it to his lips in a mock bow, eyes peering up under fluttering eyelashes.

“M’lady.”

(Is this what cardiac arrest feels like?)

“Down, boy!” John pats the back of the bassist’s head, smirking, and before you can mourn the loss of his touch they’ve begun bickering like an old married couple.

A different hand takes yours. Thick, calloused fingers. Cold metal rings press into your skin. “Don’t mind them, they’re children. I’m Ringo.” And here was Ringo Starr with the signature grin. Something about his sweet, wide smile makes you relax instinctively. He’s just human, like you. They all are. Underneath the fame and fortune, you’re all just messy humans with a love for music. And with that realization, you let yourself settle back into your usual self.

“They’re not so bad,” you say. “I’ve seen worse. At least they’re potty trained, right?”

This gets an adorable laugh from him as well as George, the latter of which had been talking to Kate about guitars until now.

“Great job up there, by the way.” You blush at the compliment and George goes on, “Those are some wicked brilliant riffs! You’ve got to show them to me sometime.”

“What, and let you steal our band’s secrets? You’ll have to try a little harder than that, mister.”

The three of you fall into an easy banter, mostly gushing about each others’ musicianship. Eventually, John and Paul break their fight, realizing that they’re no longer the center of attention.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” John says a little breathlessly, still laughing from something Paul said. You try not to notice how pink his cheeks are or the way his hair falls perfectly into his eyes from the toustling. “Say, why don’t we take this somewhere with a booth and at least three pints of alcohol?”

“There’s a pub two blocks down,” Paul chimes in, “and they always let us take the back door. The fans can get crazy, y’know.”

Pru, the other lead vocalist, swings an arm around your shoulder and answers before you can. “Sounds boss. I’m ready to split if you are, mop-tops.”

They look confusedly at one another and you huff, elbowing her in the ribs. “What she means is that we’d be delighted to go. Right, Pru?”

She scoffs something along the lines of stuffy Brits but nods. With that, the two bands begin making their way to the exits, melding into one raucous group of overlapping conversations. Before you can make it there, however, your manager grabs you by the arm and looks you in the eye with a steely glare.

“I better not being seeing your face in the papers tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, Mom.”

“And be back at the hotel before three! You’ve all got interviews in the morning and I do not want another situation like Toronto on my hands. You hear me?”

“That reporter was a sexist pig and I meant what I said. Also, I wasn’t that hungover!”

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” George pipes up, “We’ll get her back in one piece. Maybe two, if we’re unlucky.”

You pat Grace’s hand and her glare softens. “Alright, get outta my sight.” She waves a hand and walks off, already rattling off instructions a mile a minute at some poor intern.

“Is yours like that too?” you ask, looking after Grace fondly as she picks up a costume rack without slowing down. If the terrified look on the intern’s face is any indication, she’s still berating him to high hell.

“Honestly,” George replies, “I think all managers are. Mum away from home, y’know. Eppy’s always right and it’s annoying as hell.”

You share a knowing smile before surging on to catch up with the group already at the door. John’s at the lead. Elbowing your way through, you make your way to his side.

“It’s a side entrance so it shouldn’t be too bad,” he says, pushing on the handle.

Immediately, a barrage of sound smacks you in the face hard enough to do a double-take. Apparently, you and every other person in London knew about the side entrance because you’re met with a sea of clamoring fans. Heads turn toward the opened door in a mesmerizing, horrifying ripple of motion. Someone mutters a heartfelt fuck under their breath. It’s probably you.

“There she is!” a girl screams.

“I love you! I LOVE YOU!”

“Is that the Beatles?”

“MARRY ME PAUL! I WANT YOUR BABIES!”

Amidst the chaos, someone intertwines their fingers in yours. It’s John. He looks down at you with a boyish grin and, not for the first time, you lose a bit of yourself in his gaze. The other three boys share the same wild glint in their eyes. He leans close until his lips brush your ear and for a moment you let yourself believe that you’re alone with him and nobody else.

“This is the part where we run, darling.”

And so you do.

notes: because i’m horny for music history, i spent way too much time researching oh! darling’s musical composition. the song is heavily influenced by new orleans rhythm and blues as well as louisiana swamp blues, music styles originating from african-americans/creoles/cajuns in the 50s (read more about it here!). so in my mind, reader is of the same ethnic background as the music she creates, but you’re free to interpret it however you want! 

[chaoslordjoe]

RWBY - Do I Ship It #2? Ruby Rose

I’ve decided to continue this whole shebang with going over ships for individual characters each time. And for this one, we’re looking at our favorite cooking-deepthroating reaper, Ruby Rose...That may be one of my favorite character descriptions I’ve ever typed.

With introductions outta the way, let’s talk some Ruby ships.

White Rose

kinda leaves me indifferent?

overrated

would read a fic about it

Ideally, White Rose has become one of those ships that half of the FNDM loves to hate. But me, I’m not as triggered by it, let alone nowhere near as angered by it’s presence simply because it’s not Bumbleby.

Unlike BB, in which it’s presence makes me wanna slug my screen every time I see a comment thread screeching high praise about it, I can look at White Rose and just be more like: “Eh. It’s okay.” Simply because I have seen WR content that I enjoy, and that at least many WR shippers know when to shut up when they’re called out unlike Wasps.

Really, a lot of the content has a lot heart put into it to where I really can’t get mad at it. I know it’s a WLW ship. I know that’s become a thing to generally hate among RWBY fans. But I do think that WR is the lesser of two evils between that and BB not because I have a lot of friends who ship it, but because I think folks crap on it way too much compared to the demon that BB has become.

Am I saying there aren’t toxic WR fans still around? Hell no. They need to be called out on it, too. But I’m also generally more relaxed about the ship. Nothing major really.

Ladybug

I SHIP IT

CUTENESS OVERLOAD

underrated

hELL YES

Ladybug has become a recent addition to my ship list a while back. But I’ve fallen head over heels for it in such a short amount of time.

Even many folks I’ve spoken to who tend to gag at the mention of WLW ships in a fandom as egregious as RWBY’s agree that the Bugs are really harmless given soft the content of this ship often is. I’m not saying that Ladybug is all “wee-hee-we’re-a-couple-of-happy-go-lucky-dorks” because that would make it unoriginal and boring to read in many cases.

No, the reason I’ve grown to adore Ladybug so much is because I’m one of those who parrots how much of a missed opportunity (like the show is as a frigging whole) how many interactions there could be between Ruby and Blake.

Why wouldn’t they? They’re both into fantasy stories, both have darkened color schemes, and share some general views on why they fight. Really, Ladybug is just a good way for me to fill the void of just how much Rooster Teeth doesn’t give a fuck about how to organize their characters properly?

Volume 5 gets Freezerburn, and not onwards? Come on, RT.

But before I end up turning this into a rwde post, let’s just move onto the next ship.

Nuts & Dolts

I SHIP IT

CUTENESS OVERLOAD

Soulmates

I WOULD DIE FOR IT OKAY

Yeah this one was pretty obvious. But who cares?! I frigging adore Nuts & Dolts.

Let me just be clear in saying that I can ship it platonically/romantically, simply because I love the bond that Ruby and Penny share. They’re both hyperactive, kindhearted and strong-willed girls with a penchant for bladed weaponry and wanting to make the world a better place for everyone.

This initially made N&D into a guilty pleasure ship for me. But over time, I just couldn’t resist or get mad at it because I love how soft it feels. Same reason as Ladybug for the most part. But overall, I like N&D because of just how much soul there is between two people who were born differently with a set of powers that aren’t what you’d call “ordinary”.

As someone who’s been called “unique” or other labels with the disability I have, I usually find it very pretentious and downright grating to see stories that are supposed to be uplifting about being born in a different manner because that can be really damn annoying after a while.

Yeah, stuff like disability or other stuff is under-represented in pop culture. But often it’s portrayed in a very “Hollywood” fashion even if it’s not a work from that culture and work mindset.

I’m not saying N&D is one of those “unique” portrayals, but as something that shows what happens when two saviors who wanted a normal life have someone in each other that they can trust and even love for their shared experiences of being born differently.

Which is why I’ve grown to accept Ruby and Penny as the popular fan portrayal of being girlfriends or platonic friends. They have so much in common, which makes it that much more endearing for me personally.

Okay. Those are some Ruby/Other girl ships outta the way. Now let’s discuss some Ruby/guy ships...Here’s where it gets a little odd.

Lancaster

BROTP

overrated

no thanks

Oh boy. I’m probably gonna get some flak for this entry...

Let me just be clear that this is a post that is NOT meant to attack any particular shippers. This is me stating what I feel about certain ships and me occasionally talking about how I think they would turn out. 

It’s not my headcanon interpretations, per se. But instead it’s more how I picture it based on my experience with viewing relationships in my own life before I started discussing fandom ships.

Now that I have that out of the way, let’s discuss Ruby/Jaune.

When I first started watching RWBY, my first ship, like many others was Arkos (more on that when I cover Jaune). I felt that Pyrrha was just the right fit for a lovable dweeb like him with how it helped kick-start his character development and the framework for how he would improve himself overall.

Granted, I wasn’t really expecting Arkos to be canon since Pyrrha had died in V3. It was a tragic outcome for a ship that had so much buildup. And most of the FNDM agreed that Jaune needed a hug along with his friends to help him through it.

When I started to hear about the fact that Jaune was shipped with other girls in the main cast, I wasn’t really shocked since White Knight was already fairly popular. But when I found out about Lancaster, it was like: “Wait a second, people actually ship him with Ruby?”

Was more confusion than astonishment, to be honest. I didn’t really think that it would’ve been fitting despite how close and similar both team leaders were. But I decided to bite the bullet and give it a try with reading a couple of Lancaster works.

I got bored.

I’m not so much angry whenever I hear about Lancaster as I am just not impressed by how much fanon works recycle many tropes and plot elements.

Ruby is secretly in love with Jaune.

Jaune does something adorkable or manly which attracts Ruby.

Ruby makes/attempts to make a move on him with some crazy or titillating way that, while in-character for her, has been repeated one times too many in this or other ships featuring her.

Jaune is generally being a good boi throughout. I like Jaune, but I feel that he’s put in too many fanfics in which he’s overly good and pure. Again. It’s fitting for him, but sometimes a bit of difference in fan interpretation is nice. Make him angry, have him lash out at his friends at times. Just don’t make him a “perfect” boyfriend.

Both dorks often have to hide their relationship because of the possibility of Pyrrha being jealous, Yang going apeshit, or other characters reacting the way they do which is often buzzwords in a fic like that.

Lancaster shippers, I am not attacking you since this is your thing. If so, fine. But it’s not mine as I am giving an attempt to give constructive criticism about some of the ships listed here while talking about ships I like to make these posts all about even ground.

I prefer to see Ruby and Jaune as besties. Hell. I prefer to see them more like siblings considering how much Jaune acted like a big brother to Ruby on the road to Mistral with how Yang was bedridden with depression in V4. I also think that Jaune needs a friend right now rather than a love interest. The same could be said for a lot of characters right now, but that’s a different topic.

My biggest criticism for LC is that while I understand the similarities that they share, it’s the whole “opposite-gender-leads-fall-in-love” trope. This trope can be done right *coughRENORAcough* but is put in so many works that I’m not one of those fans who’s impressed with it.

The ship isn’t original, but it’s nothing to make me wanna rage-post like I’m Keemstar on Red Bull or the like. And I know people who are into it, to which I tell them: Good for all of you. It’s simply not my cup of tea.

Rosegarden

would read a fic about it

meh

not really my thing

Oh god, how I wish it wasn’t harvest season!

Kidding. Kidding. Rosegarden is legit, and all my friends in the group who ship it are wonderful people.

Another ship that I can’t really get angry at since compared to other ships that cover things like young love or ships of people who were born differently (see my Nuts & Dolts entry), RG is pretty fucking harmless and I can tolerate it more even though I’m not into it.

While I understand why it seems hypocritical of me to share and repost stuff related to RG on occasion, this is simply because I have reason to share it based on how much I’ve interacted with shippers and how I’ve actually had productive discussions with them outside of their ship.

It’s the community which I like more than the ship because of how much more chill they are. But there’s also a big reason why I know that some people crap on this one.

Ozpin.

Dude, if I had a Dollar for every “RG-is-pedophilia-because-Oscar-is-Ozpin’s-puppet” fallacy that was posted I wouldn’t be needing a stimulus check. Let me explain to y’all why that’s bullshit.

(RWDE mode online)

Is Ozpin eons of years old? Yes. He’s from Humanity 1.0 and was thrown into the bodies of men in the modern world in his war against Salem. It’s a rough situation with a lot of baggage to any relationship he puts up or wishes to even build-up and I don’t think it should be swept under the rug because there’s a lot of stuff that should be brought up about the guy.

Is Ozpin intervening on any potential interaction between Ruby and Oscar? No. Canon or no, Oz has been a neutral party in whatever interactions the two kids have because it’s not really his business. Do you honestly believe that if Ozpin would be the kind to boss his host around that he would attempt to butt in on their friendship?

As an Oz critic, I can say that while I understand both interactions, I draw the line at this ship being considered pedophilia.

I mean, come on! The FNDM ships Ruby with villains like Roman, Cinder and Salem, who are adults when she’s a teenager! And suddenly it’s okay to claim pedophilia just because Ozpin is present?! ARE YOU HIGH?

If we’re going with that logic, fine, just have Ozpin ascend from his brain after Salem is 86′d, THEN we can have a development in RG’s friendship whether it’s romantic or not. But leave the fans of this pairing out of it!

(RWDE mode offline)

The reason I don’t ship Rosegarden is because I’m not a fan of the whole “young love” trope either. I wouldn’t mind it so much if Oscar wasn’t relegated to a support role due to being an Oz host and he had more screen time rather than the old wizard.

Maybe I’m just too cynical about stuff like this to really care. But the point is, I can’t get mad at this ship either and I’m willing to read up on it in small doses.

Strawbana

I ship it

CUTENESS OVERLOAD

the sexiest pair

we need more of it

underrated

Sun Wukong, you magnificent monkey bastard! You always seem to brighten my day whenever I’m looking through critical discussions related to this show.

Much as I love BlackSun, I’m definietly curious to learn more about other ships involving my homeboy here. Solar Flare, I also like. But Sun/Ruby? Thank you sir, may I have another!

Ugh. Can’t believe I just quoted Animal House to describe my love for this painfully underrated ship. Somebody get me some soap...

Other than their VAs being married in real life, I like Strawbana/Red Sun the same reason as Nuts & Dolts with this being a ship that features two extremely upbeat characters finding love in one another with just how much they kick ass for the reasons of just being good people.

Kinda/sorta the only straight Ruby ship I’m into just because of how much they could rub off on one another, and how much I’d love to see them interact more in canon material. Not just the show but any other tie-in stuff.

Next time, we cover Weissu.

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

Lesson Learned

Woah! Don’t Read! This is one of the endings to the fic Dinner Lesson. Make sure to read part one before reading this as to understand what is happening

Ending under the cut

When the time came to part ways Davey insisted that he walk Spot back to the bridge, Jack staying with him the whole time. It didn’t go unnoticed how protective he got around any of the boys once the sun set. He wouldn’t let any of them leave his sight and always made sure they were close. Like a protective parent really. The parent all of them either lost or never had. The only thing they didn’t know was why. Why was he like that? Not bothering to ask t the moment, they assumed it was some Pred thing they had yet to find out and left it at that for now.

The walk back to the lodge consisted of Davey holding Jack close to his side at all times, refusing to allow him to get more then a inch or two away at any time. Jack was almost sure Davey was just going to pick him up at that point and carry him back like some bride. But no. Just the usual ‘stay by my side or so help me’ and the occasional protective growl at anyone he passed. Dare he say it felt....nice. Really nice, actually, to have this sense of security. That no one could hurt him.

That didn’t stop once they got to the lodging house.

It took no words at all to get Davey to relax next to him on the shared bunk. Just the pred’s presence was enough to keep that feeling going strong. That feeling that no one could hurt him. That feeling he liked. As expected at this point, it wasn’t long before soft snores could be heard from the boy. Jack then took his chance, shifting to lay on top of Davey and laying his head so he was using the boy’s belly as a pillow. He could hear the three inside shout at him, bringing a smile to his face.

“Oh shush, you three. This is just Karma. Don’t even act suprised. Spot an’ I warned ya,” he softly spoke to them, tracing small circles over the taller teen’s gut. “You’s really gotta learn t’take threats seriously.”

A slight stirring from the boy under him made his body freeze. In all fairness though, he should tell Davey. Just so the boy knows.

“....Jackie?” Davey groans, shifting from his sleep and drowsily looking down to the painter. A hand moves to sleepily comb through Jacks tangled hair, avoiding the worst knots as to not catch them. “Who’re you talkin’ to....?”

Jack smiled, leaning into the touch before he can stop himself. His hand still traces lazy circles over the teen’s stomach, teasing those inside. “Just ya guests. I don’t think Race, Specs, and Romeo like being in someone’s gut with food all that much.”

It takes Davey longer to process this. Longer to figure out what he meant. But boy howdy does his heart drop when he figures it out. “J-Jack...you don’t mean....”

“Yeah. I do. Slipped ‘em into ya drink when ya weren’t lookin’. They needed t’learn a small lesson.”

“W-What lesson could that be?! Do you know what I could’ve-“

“Dave, relax. You wouldn’t ‘ave. I saw ya face each time one of ‘em went down. It was like ya recognized th’ taste. You did, didn’t ya?”

Davey stops, blinking while his jumbled thoughts try and get back into line. ”Y-Yes, but-“

“No. Hush. You recognized th’ tastes, linked them t’the idiots in ya gut, and ya brain flipped the switch of ‘hey, don’t digest these dumbasses.’ And if you even wanna deny it then remember the sleep incident?”

Davey stopped. “I-....” He couldn’t find any words.

“Exactly. Now listen here, buddy, you ain’t gonna spit them out yet. So go back t’sleep and enjoy it for a little while. It’s a luxury even some of us don’t get.”

“H-Hold on.” Davey weakly scrubs a hand over his face, feeling the three in his gut start to move around and a pressure build. Oh great. Maybe he should’ve avoided soda. “W-What even did they do?”

“Thought they could annoy the hell outta me an’ Spot without consequence. They was wrong.” Jack smiled up at the clearly half asleep boy under him as he started to rub at said boy’s gut a bit. It was starting to feel a bit firm. What would happen if....

A small but firm push was enough to cause a small muffled burp from the Pred, said boy relaxing a lot more almost immediately after. In turn, Jack also finds himself relaxing, nuzzling into his pillow for the night and getting a few shouts of protest in return. Not that he listenes to them.

A small sleepy giggle bubbles up in Davey’s chest, arms wrapping around the painter. They might just be there with no real pressure but that’s enough to keep Jack there seemingly for good. “You’re....doing it again....”

“Doing what?”

“Using me as a pillow.”

Jack huffs, burrowing deeper into the soft yet sharp from beneath him that was David Jacobs. “It’s not my fault yer stomach makes a good pillow.”

“....only when it’s....full, Jackie. Very flat otherwise.”

“Well then, I guess I have a job t’keep it soft and plush like this.”

Davey snorts. “Good luck with that. Let me know what you’ve-“ he’s cut off by a yawn. “-thought of in the morning. I’m gonna.....go back to bed.”

Jack nods, arms loosely wrapping around Davey’s torso. It’s not long before the soft sound of the taller teen’s snoring is heard. That leaves Jack laying on the boy, half asleep himself while he embraces every sweet second he gets to spend right next to the Pred. Damn feelings. Damn crush.

But whatever, right? It’s not like it’s that big of a deal. As long as they can hold each other on nights like these they have it good.

On nights when they were safe from the world.