#they’re just so silly and cute!!!!!!!! i wanna bite em!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[madaqueue]

unfortunately i can’t stop thinking about how cute boys are when they go :P

[absolutepokemontrash]

I come bearing a request! The Brothers with an MC who's really good at cooking and baking? Like, the stuff food blogs dream of. Master-level instagram pastries. Could compete with the chocolate guy if they put their mind to it.

👀 ooooo, I do love me some pastries-

(I know you have an *ahem* distaste for Lucifer, dear moot, so enjoy Lucifer acting like a bit of a dingus in his section!)

Lucifer

Oh, the human can cook. *insert asshole eyeroll here*. Great. Wonderful. Groundbreaking. That’s what’s got all his brothers acting like- what was that word Levi used? Simps? This human has turned six of the seven rulers of hell into a bunch of simps.

Sure, the human has near godlike cooking prowess. Sure, everyone looks forward to their day for cooking. And sure, everyone thinks the human’s pretty great.

Tsk, not him though. He’s a refined demon. Some silly food isn’t going to make him a lovesick fool… did he smell eclairs..?

Lucifer peered into the kitchen to see MC carefully taking a tray of eclairs out of the oven and letting them cool off on the counter. His favourite dessert… right there in front of him…

Due to not being a total moron, MC notices Lucifer and asks him what the hell he’s doing just standing ominously in the doorway. Lucifer makes up some bullshit excuse about reminding MC to do their homework and just leaves. Okay, game plan, he needs those fucking eclairs or he will spontaneously combust.

As he snuck into the kitchen that night, Lucifer took a moment to briefly wonder why he was creeping around his own house. He was the Avatar of Pride for pity’s sake! He could eat whatever he damn well pleased! Oh shit was someone coming- no? Okay, back to sneaking.

Lucifer crept into the kitchen, saw the eclairs, and all logic was thrown out the window. Time to eat!

“BEEL NO! NOT THE- Lucifer..?” “…” “…” “…you’re very talented, MC, do you mind making more of these?”

SOMEONE SNAP A PICTURE! THIS IS THE CLOSEST LUCIFER HAS GOTTEN TO BEGGING IN THE LAST THOUSAND YEARS!

Mammon

Ugh, stuck babysittin’ some dumb human, how lame…

As Mammon was throwing a “I’m broke and I’m stuck in a pact with a dumb human” pity party, the most heavenly smell entered his nostrils. Cooking… good cooking… was Barbatos visiting or somethin’? Nah, Lucifer woulda made a big fuss about gettin’ ready for Lord Diavolo. Huh, so what was goin’ on in the kitchen?

Huh? The human? The human can cook? Well damn, maybe this whole deal wouldn’t be so bad. Oi! MC! As payment for babysittin’ ‘em, he got to have an extra big share of- OW!

Did- did the human just hit him with a spoon?! Th-they can’t do that!

Apparently they fucking can. Mammon gets told to sit the fuck down and wait for the food like everyone else. He grumbles on the way to the dining room, but he can’t fully hide his excitement to try the food.

The food even looked pretty! How did they do that?! Magic. It had to be!

After everyone’s tastebuds were blessed with the heavenly substance that is MC’s culinary exploits, Mammon decides he needs to get on this human’s good side in order to receive more food! Maybe even find some way to make a profit or somethin’!

After weeks go by of trying to suck up to the human without looking like too much of a chump, Mammon eventually realizes… hey, this human ain’t so bad. They’re nice, they make him feel good about himself, they give him headpats… he’s really hit the jackpot here!

He’ll offer to help MC bake or cook, but beware, he will try and sample the food before it’s done. Don’t let him lick the spoon!!!

Leviathan

First thought? This human ain’t shit. Thought after seeing their food? WOAAAAAAAH! JUST LIKE THAT ONE ANIME-

He was unceremoniously cut off by Beel asking demanding seconds. Humph, fine, he doesn’t actually care about this dumb normie food anyway.

…well at least until Levi saw a little something something on TV that he just had to ask MC to try and make. He shyly knocked on their door and when they answered, Levi shoved the screenshot in their face and stuttered out a dinner request.

On the day MC was supposed to make dinner, Levi poked his head into the kitchen and tried to make it look like he was just standing in the same room as MC and not checking to see if they were making his dinner request.

Not that he’d blame them for not doing that… who’d wanna make some anime dinner for a yucky Otaku- OMG JAHSHSHABA THEY’RE MAKING IT! *fangirl squeals*

As Levi continues to commit the SIN of being in the kitchen at the same time as someone else, MC eventually just asks him if he’d like to help out.

“Here! Just keep turning the takoyaki.” “R-really? You trust me?” “Yes, Levi. You watched how they made it on your show, right?” “Yes! I won’t mess up! I swear on my honour as an otaku!”

All in all, it was a very cute bonding experience for the two. Now it’s a regular thing. Levi requests something for dinner or dessert, MC makes it, Levi helps out.

Satan

So, the human can cook. That’s nice. At least someone in this literally god forsaken house can.

He makes sure to thank MC every time they cook, then he makes sure to thank whatever deity is watching over him that Solomon wasn’t the human staying with them.

As the months progress, Satan realizes, he should learn how to cook better. I mean, Levi and Mammon were somehow both improving in their cooking endeavours, and if MC could teach those two, then he would be a breeze.

Satan walked into the kitchen and simply asked if MC needed any assistance with what they were doing. MC just slid him some garlic to dice and that’s how this mentor/student relationship was formed.

Satan was a star pupil, but Mammon and Levi weren’t above trying to sabotage Satan’s progress to get him to leave.

Here’s the thing, the sabotage worked, but it only worked once, and the two idiots didn’t stop to think that maybe they shouldn’t sabotage the meal they were going to have to eat later.

Well, cooking lessons continued uninterrupted after the ghost pepper incident…

Even when he’s ‘graduated’ their little cooking class, Satan’s always willing to lend a hand if needed. He also will slyly hand over some recipe books and cute baking supplies that he finds. MC should be prepared for lots of cat related things to come their way.

Asmodeus

The human can cook? Oh frabcious day! He’s saved from a life of his brother’s mediocre cooking! And the human’s so cute too! What a bonus!

Not only is the human cute, but their food is just so… aesthetic??? Pretty???? Omigosh he just has to get a picture for Devilgram!

For the first few months, MC’s relationship with Asmo consists of Asmo not at all subtly asking to take pictures of their food and post it to his Devilgram. Listen MC, his followers would just love it!

Being the saint-sheep they are, MC lets Asmo sit in whenever they’re making anything in the kitchen. And Asmo slowly realizes “hey, this cute human with the awesome food is actually pretty cool too!”

New Mission: Make the human fall madly in love with him so they’ll want to hang out more.

Whether the mission succeeds is up to MC of course. (I mean, I’m already smitten with him sooooooooo-)

MC offers Asmo a lot of the pastries they make, but the Avatar of Lust almost always declines. Listen honey, he’s on a diet- wait, don’t make that sad face! He’ll eat it! Look! It’s- it’s delicious…

Diet cheat day is now every day MC makes dessert. The feeling of bliss Asmo gets when he takes a bite out of anything MC makes is only second of the treats is second only to the joy he feels at seeing MC happy that he likes their food. It’s just so wholesome I can’t-

MC’s food Devilgram has almost surpassed Asmo in terms of followers and honestly- he isn’t even mad.

Beelzebub

Gasp! Lucifer finally got him the pet personal chef he’d always wanted! Thanks big bro! :D he’ll be sure not to eat this human!

On the first night MC was supposed to make dinner, Lucifer needed to hold Beel back from breaking into the kitchen to see what was causing that heavenly smell. It was, difficult… especially because Lucifer hadn’t slept in three days.

When they all sat down to eat, Beel practically inhaled everything and held up his half bitten plate for seconds.

We here at Stupid Headcanons incorporated recommend that MC have as many bodyguards as possible stationed around the kitchen at all times to ward off a hungry Beel. We don’t want him eating the ingredients and half-tempered chocolate.

A cinnamon roll through and through, he’ll eat everything MC gives him with a big ol’ smile on his cute little face. He’s not the best person to go to if MC wants advice or critique because the best thing Beel can usually muster is “it was really good.”

As Luke said in Lesson 5, Beel would make an awful food reporter. But we love him.

Similar to Levi, he’ll give meal requests on what to make for dinner. (At this rate, MC’s going to have to make some kind of list).

He kind of just waits by the door like a sad puppy whenever MC is making anything because he can’t get into the kitchen :(

Belphegor

The smell of freshly made chocolate chip cookies wafting through the house did reach the attic and it only fuelled his rage more. How dare the human win everyone over with cookies?!

After the attic incident, Belphie was won over with cookies.

Belphie just stands creepily in the kitchen doorway whenever MC is making anything and just makes shit really uncomfortable. Why’s he doing that, you may be wondering, well, he’s trying to calculate the energy needed to swipe the bowl of cookie dough and sprint to safety.

He never succeeds, mainly because once he gets to the bowl, MC already has the wooden spoon ready to smack him, so he just freezes mid-theft and slowly puts the bowl down.

“Oh my gosh, it says let the bread dough rest overnight? Let’s get a headstart and go to sleep now.” “Belphie what-” “I made a pillow Fort, come in. Let’s sleep.” “In the kitchen????”

How’d he make the pillow Fort without MC noticing? Years of experience. He’s trained in the art of- MC? What do you mean you can’t sleep right now and you need to get a head start on shaping fondant?

…he may have eaten the fondant while MC wasn’t looking… whoops… Beel may have rubbed off on him a little…

[pikemoreno]

lucky

pairing: marcus moreno x gn!reader

request: from @chibi-liz05​ “Can I request a Marcus Moreno fic (or ficlet, or drabble) where either Marcus or reader gets hurt (not seriously hurt) and end up in a med bay, kinda woozy from pain meds and they have a funny and/or cute conversation when the other one goes to check on the one hurt? Please.”

warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, death. it starts out pretty darn angsty, but gets silly and fluffy i promise. these two are hella married.

word count: 2.7k

a/n: honestly this is nothing like you asked for until the end? but this lil drabble idea inspired this whole one shot so i hope you enjoy what you helped my brain create? i loved this, needless to say.

i love this himbo and i’m so happy to write for him.

And thank you for the medical advice to @disgruntledspacedad! Thanks for helping me choose the right drug! 😆

wanna join a taglist? | masterlist

This was Marcus’s least favorite part of his job. 

As the newly deemed Director of the Heroics, he was the one to decide who went out on what mission when and with who. Normally it wasn’t too tall of an order. After all, he was chosen as director for good reason. He was perfect for the job. He was smart, organized, resourceful, and tried in everything to understand people-- whether that be in their personal habits or in their superpowered strengths. He was often commended for his ability to form the perfect teams for whatever job arose; and it came pretty naturally, it really did. 

That is, until emotion got involved, until personal bias compromised his decision making.

He was determined to not let you go on the mission, absolutely not. The band of powered individuals the team was going after were incredibly dangerous and unpredictable.They’d been a problem for months and this mission was all or nothing. The high stakes and vulnerable position made him incredibly reluctant to make you a part of the team that was heading out under the cover of night to apprehend them. When he didn’t name you among them, he was immediately countered by the rest of the heroes in the room about the choice. 

By all the accounts they were right. Given the tactics of the mission at hand, your teleportation abilities were perfect for the job. And if he was being even a little more honest, he’d agree with Miracle Guy that not sending you with them was a “disservice to the team.” It was and he knew it. In a very un-Marcus Moreno move, he was making the completely wrong choice and he wasn’t going to let the sound judgement of anyone else change his mind.

“Psion is not going and that is final,” he boomed. The room became deathly silent. “Now, go get ready. You leave in 20.” But no one moved, no one could. They were glued to the floor, watching their unflappable leader become uncharacteristically flapped. 

Marcus was the one to stomp out of the room first and you followed him without hesitation.

“Marcus,” you called, nearly running to keep up with long strides. “Marcus!” 

He didn’t even deign to turn around.

In a blink you were now in front of Marcus, hands out to stop him from continuing on without talking to you.

“No teleporting outside of work, Psion” he snapped lowly, but he still obliged your silent request and remained in front of you. You blinked at the small outburst.

“Mind losing the ‘tude so we can talk like adults?” You countered. Marcus lowered his head and whispered an apology. At that you stepped closer to him, your hands coming to rest on his tense shoulders in a soothing manner. “What’s bothering you, love? You know you can talk to me. This isn’t like you at all.”

When his eyes met yours again they were pained.

“It’s too dangerous,” was all he could get out at the moment. His exhale was unsteady as he leaned in, his forehead meeting yours in a much more “Marcus” gesture that brought you both back down to earth.

You sighed, fingers carding through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Of course it is. It always is.”

“Not like this,” he countered, biting his lip. “These guys are no joke.”

“Neither am I,” you grinned, tapping his nose with your own before pulling back to look at his face in full. He laughed a little, but it wasn’t whole-hearted, you saw it in his eyes.

“And I trust you. I do. I know you’re capable. I just--”

“Worry?” 

“Yeah, that.” His eyebrows were furrowed. You softly ran a thumb across the harsh lines it made, smoothing them and making him smile.

“I’m not going to lie to you and say nothing is going to happen. Because it might.” He winced at the words, not wanting to think too hard on what “it” could be. “But I’m prepared and so is the rest of the team. We’re gonna watch each other’s backs like we always do and getting everyone out safely is going to be our priority over completing the mission. It’s going to be business as usual and it’s going to be OK. I’m going to be OK. You’ve gotta let me go. They need me out there tonight.”

“I know,” he sighed. “Just… Be careful. Be ready in 10.” You sighed in relief.

“Thank you, Marcus.” You kissed him. “It’s gonna be fine.” He kissed you. “We’ve got ‘em this time. I know it.” One last kiss, strong and lingering. You tilted your head, an invitation-- no, a plead-- for a deeper kiss, which he obliged before being the one to break it. 

“Go,” he murmured, “Or you won’t make it before they leave.” You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Be careful. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled through the sudden onset of nerves before turning and walking down the hallway to join up with the rest of the team.

***

That had been hours ago. Now Marcus was in command with a skeleton crew, the late hours of the assignment sending most of the support and technical team home. He quickly decided that was probably for the best. The sweet little interns did not need to see their mentor so stressed and antsy. No, he had to be “on” for them, he had to be the Marcus Moreno. And he couldn’t be that right now. Right now he was an anxious husband and teammate. 

“Where are they now, Connie?” he asked the poor woman at the comms desk behind him for the upteenth time that hour.

“Trackers say they’re still in the hanger, sir. Last update was that they had the grunts and were waiting for the ring leader to respond to their distress call.”

He wasn’t responding. It’d been two hours. And that was a major cause for concern.

“Tell them to just bring who they have back here and we’ll keep searching for him. This is still a win as far as I’m concerned.”

The man who was on comms moved to press the talk button to speak to the team, but the comm crackled to life before he had the opportunity. 

“It’s an ambush!” Miracle Guy yelled from the other side, “We’re sitting ducks out here!”

Marcus’ heart dropped into his stomach. 

“Go! Go! Get back to the-” He heard your panicked voice call out, the sentence interrupted by a cry of pain. 

The room spun. Marcus knew he was yelling but he couldn’t hear a word of what he said. It all just sounded like white noise now, mixing with the jumbled thoughts in his head and the ringing in his ears. He must’ve said something right though, because everyone was working. One was arranging a rescue, one was calling out the vitals of the team via the trackers on their wrists-- everything seemed fine by the tone of voice, but Marcus couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t grasp a word that was said to him. He was totally on autopilot, only able to respond in vague nods of yes or no. 

“Hey,” one voice next to him cut through the fog and he looked up to Lucas, the man who ran comms, “They’re going to be ok.”

Marcus’s response was non-committal, not wanting to pull the young man down to share his current state of mind, but not allowing himself to share in his confident optimism either.

The next hour went by in a whirlwind and the next thing he knew, Marcus was downstairs in the medical wing waiting on you and your team to arrive. He’d been in this position before and the thought of it made his throat close up. The images flashed through his mind of a gurney and too much blood and a confused little girl and black clothing on a rainy day in April. 

He closed his eyes harder as if to block it all out. 

No, it couldn’t be like last time.

It was then that he heard the distinct sound of the sliding doors opening and the murmur of a small group of people. His eyes shot open and, though he stood to his feet, he felt that he could collapse in relief. There was no gurney. Minimal blood-- just a couple of cuts on your face. You were hobbling in, arm around Miracle Guy as he helped you keep pressure off of your left leg. Your face was pained, which probably should have concerned him more, but he was just too happy to see you upright… Breathing. As long as he had that, you could get through anything else together. 

He watched as the medical team surrounded all of you, asking questions, prodding delicately at injuries. Marcus could vaguely hear your voice cutting in and out through it all. 

“Super strength… Kicked… Broken.” 

They had asked you a couple more unheard questions that you responded to in a simple yes or no and then they were leading you to sit on one of the beds. He watched as you went, noticing the way you were looking around for… Something.

Oh.

He smiled.

You were looking for him.

In all his panic and then relief, it hadn’t occurred to him that you would want to see him just as badly in your current state. His heart warmed at the way your tired eyes lit up when they met his. He all but ran to you. 

“Hey baby,” he cooed, leaning in to capture your lips in a deep kiss. He’d never been more in awe of you, that you were real, that way you were his, that he could kiss you freely. When he pulled away he observed your injuries closer. Head wounds were always scary amounts of bloody, but he could see that all of the cuts were minor. He brushed a strand of hair away from where sweat and blood had plastered it to your forehead. “What happened? How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” you hissed as a stab of pain surged through your leg. He looked down to observe it. His immediate diagnosis wasn’t a good one. It was terribly hard to break a femur, but he was certain this was exactly what it would look and feel like. “Some super-strength asshole kicked me in the thigh to knock me down and--” You winced again. “They think she broke my femur, and I would have to agree.”

“I have to say I’m thinking that too,” he sighed. “I’m so sorry.” He kissed your forehead in between the cuts.

“What are you sorry for? You’re the one that tried to keep me from going. I forced you to let me go.”

“I should’ve stood my ground and had you and the team be mad at me,” he said completely seriously. 

“You’re ridiculous.” You side-eyed him, but smiled through the words. One of the medical staff returned at that moment, bringing over supplies to clean your cuts and asking if you’d like something for the pain while they got prepped for surgery. You nodded eagerly. 

“I’ll take this over,” Marcus said, hands open to take the first aid kit, “If you want to go get that?”

“Oh, sir I couldn’t ask you to--” The young woman gawked, slightly unbelieving that her boss’s boss’s boss would volunteer to do her job.

“You’re not asking me, I’m asking you.”

“A-- Yes, right away.” She handed him the kit and seemed to flee his presence to get an IV ready. You sat in silence a few moments as he prepared everything. He seemed lost, even in this small task. It took him longer than it should’ve to get his ducks in a row.

“Someone’s a little edgy,” you prodded, watching as too-intense eyes focused on cleaning dried blood from your forehead. He shook his head, eyes softening, but maintaining their focus. The whole endeavor was very clearly an attempt at keeping his hands as busy as his mind was. 

“I’d thought I‘d lost you. I thought...” His jaw tightened-- and it wasn’t due to the effort of wiping up blood. You stopped his hand from continuing its ministrations, lacing your fingers together.

“That it was all happening again?” you whispered. 

“It was like deja vu, baby. Everything was just like before.” The last word almost came out like a whimper. 

“But it’s not. I’m right here. I’m ok.” You brought your forehead to meet his comfortingly. The cuts stung just a little at the touch, but you remained there with him, feeling a deep, grounding breath fan lightly across your face.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You kissed his nose and pulled away as you heard the medic return with the Versed for the pain. Marcus stayed right by your side as you were put on the IV, a hand staying firmly on yours. Which more for him than for you if he was honest. It brought him back to reality and out of his head. He no longer had to imagine the worst, because the best had happened. You were really there. It wasn’t a repeat of the aching horror of seven years before, the day that still had you shaking him awake from unspoken nightmares. You’d made it home to him and Missy-- but he was going to be hard-pressed to go against his better judgment again, no matter how much the team needed you.

“Alright, you’ll start to feel it in just a few seconds. We’ll be back soon to take you into surgery, ok?” the medic explained to you as the IV was in place. You nodded. 

“In the meantime, let me keep working on this,” Marcus gestured to the bandages in the kit. As he got to work, he watched the look in your eyes totally change, the Versed taking effect. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, covering the cut that just barely grazed your right eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you sighed dreamily in a total demeanor change. The whole room lit up in his eyes. Marcus grinned at the way your posture slumped just slightly in relaxation. “And how are you?” you winked. Oh, this was going to be fun. He really needed to keep you talking.

“I’m doing great. Happy to be here with you, sweetheart. Now, sit still while I take care of this last cut,” he cooed. 

“Ok,” you giggled. “What a charmer.” 

“I try my best, darling.” He played along, enjoying the way the Versed had turned you into a starstruck girl with a crush.

“Oh noooo,” you squeaked suddenly.Marcus panicked, checking you over quickly for further injury. 

“What is it? Are you ok?” 

But you only grabbed his left hand, holding it up.

“You’re married!” 

Marcus blinked. What was in that stuff they’d given you? You put your face in your hands and Marcus tried to contain his laughter at the way your voice was muffled by your fingers. “You’ve been so nice and caring! I wanted to ask you on a dateeee. I’m so sorry if I came on too strong.”

“Baby,” he called with a sweet lilt to his voice-- still trying to hold in a laugh. 

“You shouldn’t call me that,” you sighed sadly, pouting, “You’re married. We can’t be together.” 

“Of course I’m married,” he held your left hand up now, “I’m married to you, you goof.” You blinked at the silvery ring on your finger. 

“Oh!” you practically yelled, “That’s so cool!” Marcus’ heart warmed at the way your eyes lit up at the realization. Even drugged out of your mind you were excited to be with him. He couldn’t help but feel likewise.

“I agree,” he smiled, “It’s very cool.” He intertwined his fingers and yours. 

“I’m so lucky,” you grinned toothily in response. It was so unlike the smiles you usually gave him: too exaggerated and, in a word, dopey. But it held the same affection. 

“No, I’m definitely the lucky one,” he countered. Your grin faltered slightly as you grew sleepy-- another possible effect of the Versed, he guessed. “Now, go ahead and lay back for me ok? I’ll see you as soon as you’re out of surgery.” You nodded in agreement and then right off to sleep.

Oh, he could not wait for you to get out so he could tell you about just how “lucky” the two of you were.

[spiderman-homecomeme]

you know how to treat it (you know how to eat it)

in which a very drunk Peter calls MJ late one night and tells her about one of his biggest fantasies

thotumn. day 6 & 9. face-sitting. “Shut up.” “Why don’t you make me?”

Thank you again @spideysmjs​ for setting this up! and bc i am a grandma i don’t know how to schedule things correctly, so this is goin up a little early! Enjoy!

Michelle blinks, eyes itching with exhaustion as she finally closes the textbook in her lap, tossing aside the convoluted words and scribbled notes. It’s late, too late for having an eight AM class in the morning, but Dr. Wheeler seems to have it out for her class, sending out an assignment with just twelve hours to go. You won’t have time in the real world, she’d said. People will throw things at you and ask for it back in an hour, she’d said.

While MJ didn’t doubt the validity of that statement, she thought thirty pages of notes with no warning was a little excessive. This is just undergrad. 

Her phone pings, and she knows it’s from Cindy, ranting about that very same assignment. And sure enough, she sees the text wall, the string of upside down smiley-faces. Tapping out a reply in solidarity and a quick good night, MJ sets her phone aside, flopping back against the mattress and tugging the blanket up to her chin.

She’s just turned off her bedside lamp, just nestled into the covers, just found the that perfect spot on the bed, when the buzzing of her phone on the nightstand yanks her back into the conscious world. 

Blowing a puff of air through her lips, her curls landing back on her face as she sits up, she grabs for her phone. And even if she’s a little annoyed, a sleepy smile stretches across her lips as Peter’s face lights up the screen. 

“Hey.” Her voice comes out in a tired, croaky murmur. 

“Emmmmmmm Jaaaaaaaaaaay,” Peter draws out warmly, so much so that she swears she can see his silly, delirious grin. 

So he’s drunk. 

“Hey, Pete,” she says again, falling back against the pillows. “What’s up?”

“Jus’ wanted to call and say hi—” he says slowly, as if he’s careful not to trip over his words, trying to sound sober even though he’s very much not. “—to my beautiful girlfriend.”

She cracks another smile, glancing at the alarm clock on her nightstand, knocking her feet together. “At… One in the morning?” 

Peter gasps. “Aw, shit. Em, did I wake you?”

“Well, no. Not really,” she lets out a light laugh. “I was just getting in bed.” 

“Oh. Okay, good.” She hears shifting on his side, hearing him almost drop the phone as he shuffles around what she assumes is his own bed. “Yeah, me too. Harry, Ned, and I went out and… I’ve been drinking. Just a li’l bit. But we got home and I just was like ‘Wow! I really wanna hear MJ’s voice.’ So I called you. Here I am.” 

The ooey, gooey side of her that melts when Peter says anything of the sort threatens to come out, and for not the first time, she’s glad to not live in the dorms anymore, her only roommate being on the other side of the apartment. “Cute,” she says. 

“Just know I’m giving you the biggest phone-hug right now.” His voice is muffled as he no doubt pushes the phone against his face. 

Even cuter. 

And even though she feels a little silly, she squeezes her phone, too. “Weirdo,” she says, unable to hide the affection in her tone—though to be fair, she’s not really trying all that hard. 

“But you loooooove meeeeee.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And I love you!” There’s more shuffling on his end, his grunts from trying to get comfortable making her grin. He lets out a long sigh. “God, I can’t wait to see you this weekend.”

MJ’s chest warms at the reminder. “Me neither.” 

“We’re gonna have so much sex.”

The snort she lets out surprises her—almost as much as what he’s just said. While she doesn’t doubt his statement—because yeah, she definitely misses that—she just can’t help but laugh. “How much have you had to drink?” She asks.

“Just a li’l…” He mumbles, though from his tone she can tell that he’s severely understating how much he’s had to drink. “Like… I’m drunk but like—I’m not… Druuuunk. You know? Like, I’m not, ‘woooooooooo party!!’ drunk.”

Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, she nods, even though he can’t see her. “Yeah. Sure. Uh huh.” 

“I’m jus’ sleepy,” he says innocently. “Very, very sleepy.”

“Then you should go to sleep,” She teases, her cheeks starting to hurt. “Get some rest, Tiger,” she says softly. 

“I wanna talk to you first, though,” he says, and she can almost hear the pout in his tone. It makes her shake her head fondly. “I miss you. A lot. So much.”

A pang of something tugs at MJ’s heart. “I miss you, too,” she replies earnestly, a lump forming in her throat. 

They knew what they were getting into, going long-distance. What, with Peter choosing to stay at Empire State and Michelle choosing Princeton. It wasn’t too long of a drive, by any means, but it was still an hour and a half. It meant not being able to see each other on the busiest days. It meant having to go weeks without seeing each other, without holding or kissing each other. And it was nights like this, long nights after rough study sessions that she wished they could be together, that she could cuddle up to him and squeeze away all of her worries, even if just for a few moments. 

She refuses to let this get to her right now, though. Not while they’re on the phone in the middle of the night. Especially not while he’s intoxicated. 

“God, I wish you were here,” she hears him breathe into the phone, and she has to crack a smile at that, biting her bottom lip. That tone is one she’s very familiar with. “With me. In my bed.”

She holds back another snort at that. “Yeah?” 

“It’d be pretty nice,” he continues. “I just wanna…” 

He trails off a bit, and she’s wondering if he’s fallen asleep when the words tumble out of his mouth. 

“Just wanna taste you.”

“Peter!” She scolds him lightly, not expecting him to go from zero to a hundred that quickly. 

“I love eating you out, though. Oh my God.”

She can feel her face absolutely burning now, hearing his gruff voice right in her ear; she can picture it so clearly, his head buried between her legs, his curls tickling her thighs as he—

“And you know what’d be, like, really cool?” 

She has to laugh at that, covering her mouth, unconsciously crossing her legs. “What?”

There’s another bout of silence where he doesn’t say anything. “I’ve been thinking about this so much, oh my God. But like… I really wanna eat you out but… with like you above me? Y’know? There’s a word, or some term for that I know but I can’t think of it…” His voice lowers to a mumble at the end, and she can hear him take a deep breath as he tries to think. His drunken, fuzzy laugh tugs at her chest.

Her lips twist into a knowing smile, her face hot, a gentle ache forming between her thighs as her own breathing starts to slow. “You want me to sit on your face?” 

“Fuck, yeah. That’s it. God, Em. You’re so smart.” He hums. “That’d be so great. So hot.”

“I try,” she jokes. 

“You always suc—succeed,” he says, pausing as he tries to navigate each syllable. “I just can’t stop thinking about you and like—your thighs just around my head and you—you just grinding yourself on my face. Fuck—”

She almost hates Peter for bringing this up—drunk or not—because now it’s all she’s going to be able to think about for the next few days until they can see each other. Squeezing her legs together to relieve some of the ache, she smiles. “That does sound pretty cool.”

“Right? So cool. So cool.”

“I mean,” she starts slowly, her fingers absently playing with a loose thread on the blanket. “We could probably try that,” she offers with a feigned sense of nonchalance. There’s nothing casual about how she’s feeling right now. This is definitely something she’s going to have to talk to sober Peter about tomorrow. Or the next time she sees him. 

Not ignoring this. At all. 

“Wait. Fuck—Really?”

And again, she has to hold back the laugh at how enthusiastic he sounds, feeling that dumb, warm fuzzy feeling even when he’s talking about wanting her to sit on his face. 

“Yeah,” she replies, a little breathless. 

“You’re the best girlfriend ever,” he beams into the phone. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“And not just because you let me eat you out—”

She swears, if he says, ‘eat you out,’ one more time—

“—But also because you’re so smart, and so funny, and so pretty, and just so amazing, and such a good person and I’m so lucky to have you, like, holy shit. I really hit the jackpot.”

She can only manage a short, near-timid response. It’s not a strange occurrence, her boyfriend showering her with praise—this is just a day in her life being with him. But hearing his soft voice at one in the morning—even drunk—somehow just hits differently. “Well, jeez, Pete…” 

“I love cuddling with you, and holding you, and kissing you—”

“—And having sex with me?” She asks, teasing. 

“—Especially having sex with you. F’course.”

His voice is starting to trail off, syllables melting together as he fights to stay awake. She wants to call him on his shit, to tease him for tapping out after drunkenly trying to initiate phone sex—sure, it might have been doomed from the start, but it could’ve been fun.

Instead, she laughs, listening as his breathing slows. She smiles hearing his gentle snore. 

When he texts her the next morning, he doesn’t mention his little fantasy. In fact, he doesn’t seem to remember their late night phone call at all. The night before is all just a fuzzy, blurry haze of too much tequila shots, according to him. And given how he doesn’t remember the exact number of adult beverages he’d had—it has to be somewhere in the late teens with his super-liver and super-kidneys—it’s not all that surprising that his initial good morning text is just a series of the throwing-up emoji. 

At least, she would sincerely hope that’s not related to what he’d said last night. 

But still, she decides to take this opportunity to both mess with the love of her life, and surprise him—her two favorite things. This decision comes from how clueless he acts when she asks, the series of question marks that follow her question about what exactly he remembers. She doesn’t fill Peter in on what he said, keeping it all to herself. No, the less he actually knows, the better the surprise will actually be. And the fact that he’s apparently been thinking about this for a long time—all without saying something—just makes it all the more sweeter. 

And just as she’d thought, she can’t get Peter’s words out of her mind. With another visit coming up in the next two days, it almost makes the wait even worse. Everytime she so much as stops whatever busy-work she’s doing, her brain immediately swerves back into that lane. In class, in the library, on the quad, in her apartment. It’s all too much. It doesn’t matter. Ever since Peter said that, she hasn’t known peace. 

It takes everything in her the next night not to bring it up again during their regular skype call. 

No, she’s able to get a grip, at least to some degree. 

But every sense of self-control goes flying out the window as soon as she’s on his doorstep.

The door to his apartment isn’t even closed before MJ’s on him. She’s been dangling this “surprise” over his head for the past two days—two days too many. Her kisses are greedy, drinking him in as she grabs fistfulls of his shirt and nearly ripping it off of him. And she revels in the feeling—as she always does—of his skin under her touch after so long apart. The feeling of his hands roaming her hips and waist, needy and insistent, fingers digging into her skin is the high she needs, the one she always needs, that she can’t imagine living without.

“So you really don’t remember what you said on the phone the other night?” She asks against his mouth, perched on his lap, his hands gripping her hips as she unconsciously grinds down. 

Peter’s eyes squeeze shut at the feeling, his grip tightening as he breathes out a laugh. “No. No, I don’t.” 

“Mmm…” A floaty smile tugs at the corner of her lips as they gently press against his in a deceptively chaste kiss. “Shame.”

He pulls back after a moment, something in his eyes saying that he’s already picked up on her tone. “Was it good? Bad?” 

Her hands wander up, hanging around his shoulders, one playing with the curls at the nape of his neck as she squints playfully at him. “I’d say good.”

“Oh?” He takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks up at her. “Well, cool. Glad I don’t have to worry about saying something stupid.”

“No, you always have to worry about that.”

“Hey!” 

With a swift pinch to her sides, she jerks forward, curling into him with a surprised yelp. 

“Don’t be rude,” he says through a laugh, still tickling her. “What did I say?”

“Okay—okay, fine!” Michelle pushes him away, unable to hide the humor in her tone. “I’ll tell you. Or—I guess I’ll show you?” 

“‘Kay…” Peter looks up at her with wide, curious eyes; especially when she stands up, removing her shirt and underwear and kicking them to the side. His smile only widens when she pushes him back onto the bed, hovering above him, straddling his hips. And because she can’t help herself, her lips immediately capture his, melting into him with a slow, heated kiss. His breathy moan shoots straight down between her thighs, and she presses against him in an effort to relieve some of the pressure. 

There’s a cheeky grin on his face when he pulls back as one of his hands wanders down to roughly knead her ass. “You gonna tell me what I said?”

With another quick kiss to his lips, she sits up. “Well, you were absolutely wasted.”

“Yeah…”

“And you were rambling on and on about how much you missed me, how much you loved me, how much you liked kissing me.” Despite her apparent confidence, her chest and cheeks are burning, her breath catching as she speaks. 

“Checks out.” A lop-sided grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. 

“And how much you liked eating me out? Apparently?” She just barely makes that out, her heart hammering in her throat, the heat in her center becoming almost unbearable. 

Peter closes his eyes, nodding solemnly. “Yes. Yup. I do.” He cracks another smile as he playfully squeezes her hips. “Flavortown is my favorite place.”

“No—” She gently slaps his bare chest, struggling to bite back her own grin. “Stop that.” 

Her hand smooths over his pec, down to his abs, smirking in delight as his muscles twitch under her touch.

“Sorry.” He winks. “Continue.”

“Well—” Michelle speaks slowly, starting to move herself up on him. “—You said you wanted to try something. Related. To that.”

His eyebrows raise curiously, his forehead wrinkling. “Yeah?” He asks, tilting his head. 

“Yeah. Something about me sitting on your face?” 

The way his eyes widen is something she can’t help but find adorable—so much so, she wishes she could take a picture of it. He breathes out a surprised—somewhat horny—laugh. He nods, giving a casual frown. 

“So does that sound like something you’d say?” Michelle asks, her voice low. “Is that something you want?”

Peter’s hands wander from her hips, ghosting along her sides, his thumbs caressing the undersides of her breasts, and back down again, and when he looks up at her, there’s something in his eyes that causes her stomach to flip in the best way possible. 

But then, of course, he’s Peter.

“MJ, you’ll be glad to know. Just for this moment—”

And he has to open his mouth.

“—I saved the best seat in the house for you.”

He emphasizes his point, patting his mouth with two fingers. 

She has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling, her lips twisting as she glares at him. “Okay. No. I’m done. Bye,” she says, struggling not to laugh as she starts to climb off of him. 

“Nooooooo—” Peter immediately keeps her in place, his hands on her hips. “—Please.”

“I’m so tired of you!” She laughs.

“Oh?” Peter tilts his head. “If you’re tired, why don’t you—” Another pat to his face. “—Take a seat?”

Only he can make her eyes roll in the back of her head in more than one way. “Shut up.”

There’s stupid, lopsided little grin on his face—full of too much mischief—as looks up at her, challenging. “Why don’t you make me?”

And she could swear that the wind’s been knocked out of her at that moment, the corner of her lips twitching upward into a surprised smile. 

He scoots them back, close enough that she can hang on to the headboard—of which he tells her she’ll definitely need to do.

She almost smacks him again. 

The air around her crackles with electricity as she slowly climbs up his chest, his hands on her thighs guiding her as she moves to straddle his face. Her own hands steady herself on the headboard, but she doesn’t look down until she’s in place, because, to be frank, it’s a lot to take in. Sure, she’s seen his face between her thighs plenty of times—it’s become one of her favorite sights in the world—but this, being above him, his mouth and nose covered by her as their eyes meet causes a heady rush to flare in her chest. There’s something about the way he grips her legs, his fingers digging into her thighs as he pulls her down.

It’s gentle at first, the deceptively chaste kisses he plants along her center, his eyes fluttering closed as he breathes her in. Already, he’s barely touched her and she feels seconds from falling apart, her face burning as his gaze flits up to meet hers. His lips ghost around her clit, never quite touching where she wants, and she can feel him smile against her as she unconsciously tries to grind herself onto him. He holds her still, looking up at her with a raised, amused brow, before licking a long stripe up her center.

The breathy moan he releases as he tastes her sends her head thrown back, and he smiles again as she sucks in a breath at the vibration, her grip on the headboard tightening. A shuddering sigh slips past her lips as his tongue swirls her arousal around, dipping down to the wetness at her entrance, his nose brushing against her clit. 

It’s the whine that leaves her lips that has him desperately pulling her closer, pressing her to him with such need, such hunger, such insistence; as if she’s oxygen. He moans without abandon into her cunt, his hard sucking on her clit causing a jolt of electricity to shoot up her spine, her toes to curl into the sheets. 

“Fuck, Peter—” She breathes, hanging her head as she struggles to hold herself upright on the headboard. 

He only hums, clearly in enthusiastic agreement, holding her flush against him, mouth hot and wet as he laps fervently at her heat, his fingers massaging her thighs, drifting to her hips and squeezing, before finally coming to the curve of her ass. 

She’s uncharacteristically shy at first, the tentative rocking of her hips coming in the heat of the moment. The muscles in her thighs twitch when he flattens his tongue and guides her, grinding her against him, his grip on her turning his knuckles white.

It’s always intoxicating, feeling him everywhere, his soft lips as they suck her clit, then his tongue as it spreads her arousal, as it starts fucking into her so well. A moan rips through her, her wet breath catching as he wraps a hand around to flick at her swollen clit. The warmth pooled in her lower stomach swells, melting, radiating through her legs to the tips of her toes, up to her chest. 

One of her hands falls from the headboard, snapping to his head, fingers carding through his curls for purchase, her chest heaving as fucks her with his tongue. A throaty moans escapes him as she jerks him closer, rutting herself against his face as she arches her back. 

She’s so close. Her thighs squeeze his head, the coil within her tightening and tightening, and—in an instant—there’s the invasive thought that he might not be able to breath. But when she tries to loosen up, when she starts to pull just an inch away, he reels her right back, more insistent, his hands on her hips, weighing her down. 

“So fucking good, MJ,” he praises filthily into her cunt, emphasizing his point with a hard slap to her ass. 

Her back straightens, rigid as she chokes on a gasp, the lewd sounds of his needy grunts, his sloppy kisses, her arousal—how wet she is on his lips and tongue—cause her body to burn, to set her skin alight, and she almost curses the both of them for not doing this sooner. 

It’s addictive, dangerously so, as she crumples forward against the headboard, her fist still in tangled in his hair, her muscles tightening, burning. This time, she doesn’t stop herself as her thighs close around his head, squeezing with a force that only eggs him on, his mouth urgent as it works her over.

“That’s it, baby—” His voice is muffled in her heat, drowned by his ministrations. 

She comes with a broken whine, panting with want as she feels herself spasming, a floaty, wavy smile pulling at her lips as Peter laps her through her orgasm. 

But even as she comes down from her first high, Peter—never one for backing down—doesn’t seem ready to quit. When she pulls up again, he yanks her back, his gaze pleading as he looks up at her, silently begging her not to move. It’s so soon after, though, and his mouth still so hot on her sensitive clit sends a shock through her, her hips desperately rocking against his face—the feeling both too much and not enough.

Her second orgasm takes her by surprise, ripping through her as he sucks harshly on her clit. It’s an out-of-body experience—cliche as it sounds; she swears her vision goes out for more than a second, and she wonders if she’s somehow accidentally pulled a chunk of his hair out with how hard she was gripping. It takes more than a moment to come back to reality, her hips bucking as Peter still laps languidly at her cunt, flicking slowly at her clit, as if he still hasn’t had his fill. It’s almost as if he’s making a show of it, the moans coming from his lips, the vibrations of them against hers, somehow making her even wetter. 

He pulls back slightly, and her mouth and throat goes dry seeing his nose, mouth, and chin slick and glistening with her. His lips puffy and pink, hair wild, looking completely fucked out. “You think you got a third?” He asks with a gentle pat to the curve of her hips.

And it’s his voice that makes her have to keep her eyes from rolling back; at least an octave lower, husky. 

But it’s the adoration in his eyes that makes her heart swell. 

Taking a shuddering breath, she nods. “Yeah,” she replies, biting her lip through a smile. “Please.”

He grins back up at her, scooting down on the bed a bit, pulling her with him. It gives her enough room to bend forward, now bracing herself on the mattress. His warm breath fans over her soaked cunt, and it takes everything in her not to squeeze her legs together again. His hands smooth over her skin, kneading the flesh of her ass as he pulls her down again. And he takes a moment to place another tender kiss on her sensitive clit—a gesture and touch that causes her hips to jolt—before taking hold of her and roughly pulling her down again. 

This time, he’s quick to wrap his lips around her clit, sucking and swirling his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves, yet still savoring her. Her choked moan is cut off as one of his hands coils around behind her, swiping his fingers through her wetness, coating themselves in her arousal. 

How Peter can get these sounds out of her, she thanks whatever higher power there is for that. The breathless whine the tumbles from her lips as her jaw goes slack, her body slumping further as he starts to pump two fingers into her, curling just so that she can’t help but chant his name like a prayer, over and over into the pillow. 

It’s not long before she’s coming all over his fingers, his mouth, feeling herself fluttering around him as she desperately grinds down. For a moment, she almost forgets where she is, smiling and mumbling dreamily, not even sure what she’s saying as Peter moves out from under her. She feels his lips on her back as he kisses his way up her spine, his lips soft and gentle, full of love, on her skin. 

When he reaches her face, his hand moves to cup her cheek as he lays beside her, his thumb smoothing over her skin. 

She blearily looks at him, dazed, body still thrumming, buzzing from her third orgasm. 

“Hey,” he says, his smile lop-sided, dopey; an expression so soft coming from someone doing such filthy things moments before. 

Peter. 

And MJ hums, closing her eyes again as he pulls her close, capturing her lips with his in a searing kiss. Another moan escapes her as she tastes herself on his mouth, her tongue slipping past his lips, drinking him in. 

When he pulls back again, he can’t help but bite his lip. “How was that?” he asks, though from the smirk on his face, he seems to already know the answer. 

Still breathless, MJ grins, shrugging as she starts to sit up. “It was alright.” 

“Woooooow.” His jaw drops in mock-offense as he follows. “Three times was alright?” 

“I think we’ll have to do it again,” she teases. “Just so I can really form an opinion. You know?” 

“Oh, of course,” he murmurs, looking up at her with half-lidded eyes, his hands migrating to her hips, ready to pull her into his lap. 

But she stops him, her eyes tinted with mischief as she glances between his face and the outline of his painfully hard cock straining against his boxer briefs. 

“Is this seat taken?”

[jessiebanethedragon]

Could you do Crosshair and his so on the ship and no one around, and they just start dancing aimlessly?

Love this ask, (i love dancing even tho im hopeless at it) hope you enjoy!

Songs mentioned: Little Help -  The BossHoss,  Waterloo - ABBA

Crosshair could hear the music begin from his room, or should he say your shared room? Considering you sneak into it every night for cuddles unbeknownst to his brothers. His brothers, who were currently on a supply run in the inner city. Leaving you and Crosshair alone and unsupervised. And as the love of your life had still been asleep when you woke, you had decided your Holopad needed music and you needed to dance. 

Hair up, loose clothes and, oh yeah, the beat just kicked in. Moving with a very obvious lack of planning and rhythm you’re really starting to get into it and just as the first verse starts to turn into the chorus…

“Well, what do we have here?” Crosshair soothes out, leaning  against the hull of the ship, just in the bottom half of his blacks. You stop, mid twirl, almost crashing to the ground as you frantically pause the music. 

“Nothing, we have nothing here.” You say firmly, trying not to be embarrassed. 

“Oh do continue, I was quite enjoying the show.” He’s teasing you, loving how pink your cheeks get. But slowly a slightly evil smile crosses your face. 

“I’ll dance if you join me.” You offer with a purposeful lip bite and fluttering eyelids.

“Oh I don’t think so.” He laughs, but you’re crossing the room to get to him. 

“Come on riduur, it’s just us, and you need practice for our grand wedding” You exclaim, cheeks bunching up as you smile widely. 

“Who says I'm marrying you?” He’s still teasing you, standing up a little straighter as you get closer to him, bouncing on your toes and twisting a little with each step. It looks stupid but you love it. 

“If you need a little love, my friend, come along I will understand…” you start to sing, grabbing his hands gently and pressing play on the holopad spinning you both around at an arm's length in wild circles. He pulls you close enough to dip you with a squeal of happiness from your lips. 

“Not a word to anyone about this cayre.” He says into your ear, his arms keeping you from crashing to the floor. You purse your lips closed and nod excitedly. Crosshair pulls you up into another messy twirl. There's no rhyme or reason to any of the moves, it’s just you, him, the music and the crazy amount of love you have for eachother. He moves to stop as the song finishes but he sees you start to jump as the song beings 

MY MY!

“Waterloo!!!” You chant as you start belting out lyrics and he takes you in his arms for a very silly and messed up ballroom-esqe, naboo-royalty type of dance. 

“Waterloo! Promise to love you forevermore!” You chant as you lean in to place a peck on his smiling face. If Crosshair had his way he would spend the rest of  his life dancing with you smiling in his arms. And little do you know, but he’s living for the day the war ends and he can run off with you for good. 

You dance until the songs run out and he’s just swaying the two of you to an imaginary beat. His chin on your head, committing the  feeling of your head on his chest to memory, just like he does every night you join him in his bunk. He places a kiss to your forehead, leaning back. 

“You left something out again.” He chastises you, not serious at all.  Producing a small ring from the pocket of his blacks, the sparkling rock he found on a mission dazzling in the center of a ring made from old metal. He slips it onto the correct finger and places a kiss to your knuckles. 

“It’s not my fault I have to hide it from your brothers.” You rebuke, marveling at the ring and the man you love so much.

“You wanna tell em?” Crosshair asks as he pulls you close again to dance to a song that isn't there. 

“We have to eventually. They have to attend the wedding.” You lay your head on his  bare chest again.

“Do you want our wedding to be a gory disaster?” Cross remarks. 

“Yes, red colour palette with an isle of bones and, oooh, little droid head centerpieces, it’ll be so cute!” He laughs and shakes his head, tightening his grip around you. You two don’t get a lot of touchy-feely time but  when you do, maker is Crosshair clingy. The sound of the ramp opening results in a very large sigh from your Riddur. 

“The Hooligans have returned.” He groans out. 

“They’re your brothers.” you  point out with a playful smack to his shoulder. 

“I’m well aware.” He states grimly, and with a pout. “But I was hoping for one more dance.”

[tetsunormous]

okok i’m back home but i— them draping the zip up over you and you’re being all silly and cute and zip it up all the way to the top so it covers your mouth and he just goes “nu huh” and slowly lowers the zipper until it’s right in the valley of your tits and they’re sitting there all pretty the curve it just showing under the jacket and he just leans down and presses a kiss before biting your tits

plS HIM SMACKING YOUR ASS when he walks away from you and it’s a little harder than normal and you can tELL he’s had a rough day- oh boy oh boy. him letting you prance around the house in his oversized jacket and he all hot and god, he’s still so frustrated about the day he wants to fuck you so hard, taking you on the couch, the counter, the table, bed. jesus— him BREEDING YOU growling all low in your ear talking about

“you look so happy walking around in my jacket, how happy you gonna be walking around with my cum dripping from the pretty cunt”

1. Tiddy biting is so hot idc what y’all say. Bite them, mark them, suck on em, hit them, whatever the fuck you wanna do...it’s hot

2. HELLO?! Yes, the spank is crucial in his communication tactic. He watches the sliver of your panties beneath his jacket and he just loses it.

OH OH he would bend you over the side of the couch or over the counter like you said. Rub your clit through the thin cotton and whisper in your ear, “look at you, whimpering already and all I’m doing is playing with your little clit.”

Throws you over his shoulder and fucks you on any surface he can, sucking on your nipples and thrusting deeeeeep inside your walls.

The dripping from your cunt? That shit is so hot. Give 💥💳 me 💥💳 feral 💥💳kuroo 💥💳

[heli0s-writes]

The Thief

Summary: Where do all of Bucky’s shirts keep disappearing to?  Pairing: Reader x Bucky A/N: 2.1k word count. Silliness, fluff. Posters from the fic LOL

Bag of Tricks One-Shots Masterlist

Bucky is missing another shirt on Saturday morning. He rifles through his closet, slapping the hangers to the left and down the pole where they clack against each other fearfully. Last week, this happened too. His favorite red Henley with the threadbare hem and black buttons— all day he had searched for it until—

Oh.

With a slightly exasperated groan and a backwards tilt of his head, he closes the closet door. Quietly, he slips out of his room and down the silent hallway until the chatter of voices from the kitchen meets his ears.

Wilson stands at the stove top, flipping pancakes the size of plates— heavy, thick, wheat ones, overloaded with blueberries. Steve is to his side, pouring milk and stealing fruit when Sam isn’t looking. Natasha is perched on the counter, sipping black coffee.

And then, his eyes skip over to the dining table where a pair of delicate feet are propped up on the glass, toes tapping off-beat to a tuneless song.

You.

No matter how many times Tony and Steve tell you to stop putting your feet on the table, you still do— almost out of spite and with glee. You match Steve in stubbornness and Sam in annoying-ness. You’re just a step behind Natasha when it comes to acting, too. The combination could be lethal if you weren’t such a lawless brat, squandering your talents on petty revenge.

You’re leaned back in the chair, comic book in hand with a silly lopsided smile and your hair tied in the messiest of buns. Strands loop out from the elastic, flop against your ear pathetically. There is a smudge of toothpaste on the corner of your mouth, and when you lick your dry lips, you lick it away too.

“Hey, when are those pannies ready?” You ask over the line of the glossed book.

“Don’t call them panties! And don’t rush perfection!” Sam hollers back.

“Okay…” You try again, “When are those pancakies ready?”

“Pan-cakes.” Steve sends over his shoulder, “Pancakes. One word, two syllables, no ‘y’ at the end.”

“Uh. It’s I and E, sir.” And when Steve sighs in displeasure, you tug the collar of the shirt over the bridge of your nose and hide your snickering inside. You pop a finger in your mouth and flip the page, leaving a wet round print on the edge. Tony is going to kill you when he finds out that you are desecrating his rare collection with spit.

With a snort and shake of his head, Bucky runs his hand through his bangs and walks up next to the table. “Huh.” He mumbles, finger rubbing the sleeve spilling from your shoulder, threatening to flood all the way down to your elbow. The specked brown fabric, slightly pilled is familiar beneath the pads of his thumb.

The very one he was searching for this morning. That timeworn thing, half falling apart because it’s been so many times washed.

“This looks familiar.”

“This?” You ask, eyes wide, “Is it— is it yours? Aw jeez, Barnes. I found it in the laundry room. It just looked so comfy.” One foot scratches the other and the shirt rides up your legs and folds against your stomach. Your rub the fabric against your collarbone, shifting it side to side, and the middle falls in-between your breasts, outlining the shape of you.

He has to bite down on his cheek to stop his next expression, but hums a noise of surprise anyway, “Wonder how it got in there.”

You shrug and blush, give him a fake demure smile before scooting your chair back and heading over to grab food. He follows lazily behind, watches the hem swing at the top of your thighs, a tiny inch of your athletic shorts peeks out underneath. You’re ridiculous, he thinks.

“Yummy yummy yummy, get into into my tummy.” You pull three pancakes onto your plate and Steve glares at the way you use your fingers even though there is a fork in your other hand.

“Your germs are gonna go into my tummy.”

Shocked, you press three bent fingertips to your sternum, “Captain, sir! It’s called a stomach! Two syllables. No Y!”

Steve follows your hand with a wry smile, then the slightest tilt of his head happens as he narrows his eyes on your chest.

“Captain Rogers, are you checking out my tit-tats?”

With a stutter, Steve flushes and turns around, busies himself with getting his own pancakes. Everyone else follows suit and soon enough the dining table is seated with all five, pouring syrup and cutting fluffy stacks into smaller pieces.

To his right, Bucky watches you roll up a pancake like a log and dunk it into a lake of syrup you’ve squirted on your plate. With your mouth full, you take your fork and steal a triangle from him. Syrup dribbles onto your— his shirt.

“We literally have the same food.” he complains.

“But… yours is better; Wilson put more love into yours. I think he put fingernails in mine.”

Across the table, Natasha smirks, “Arsenic, maybe.”

“Actually,” Sam corrects, “It’s rat poison.”

Behind another log dripping with syrup and melted butter, you grin and waggle your eyebrows at Sam, tongue slipping out beneath the roll to lap the dripping syrup away. Bucky kicks you under the table, a quiet reminder to stop being so obnoxious.

Instead of heeding his advice, you shove the rest of the sticky tube into your mouth and choke a little.

“Jesus Christ.” He mutters, turning away from where you are pounding on the table and coughing. “You dead?”

“Rest in damn pieces.” Sam adds.

Steve continues to stare suspiciously as you press your cheek to the glass surface and catch your breath.

You’re going to drive him crazy, he thinks.

He hides the smile behind a cut of pancake and a swig of coffee. A few more bites and he loads his plate into the dishwasher, returning to his room to take a shower, even thanking Sam for breakfast without an insult. Wilson looks after him curiously but takes the compliment where he can get it.

On his way back to his room, Bucky stops by the familiar door decorated with a single poster you printed off in the lab—a kitschy and poorly edited photograph of Sam with a rainbow-colored clown wig over his head, not even fully covering his hair. Underneath his torso are the words Sam Wilson Local Dumbass.

You had made it after a mission where Sam’s wing clipped your shoulder and your gun went off into a gas tank, blowing out half the floor. It’s been almost half a year and you still haven’t taken the poster down—vowing not to change it until the year passes. Petty revenge, Bucky scoffs to himself.

Bucky pushes past the door and yanks open your closet, staring at the piles of shirts and shorts, mountains of pants and dresses you’ve never worn. On top of each heap are a million pairs of panties, like you just grab your laundry basket and throw it in. You probably do. The doors are always shut probably because you have the object permanence of an infant and if it’s out of sight, it’s out of mind, too.

He laughs when he sees the assorted hangers on the pole, varying sizes and some bent completely out of shape. There are precisely four, neatly aligned next to each other, out of place with the rest of the disordered space.

His hand reaches up to tug on the familiar red Henley he found last week over your torso as you sat watching a movie with Natasha. You had tied an elastic band to the bottom of it, the tiniest sliver of your hip showing beneath.

Next to the red is a gray long-sleeve. Next to that is a cream-colored shirt he hardly wears but you mentioned one night that you liked seeing him in lighter colors. Ironic that you’d steal it from him, then.

At the end of the row, folded neatly over the bar of a plastic green hanger, is a single pair of his black boxers and he nearly hisses when he yanks it off in mortification.

“What?” Your voice calls from the doorway, “They’re clean.”

“Jesus! Why do you have these?”

A wide grin stretches over your mouth, “I wear ‘em to sleep sometimes. Mostly when you’re not here.”

“Darlin’, you got your own clothes.” Bucky smiles, wishing he could genuinely find your antics annoying and not so damn cute. Walking forward, his fingers reach under your shirt where the smooth plane of your stomach starts, other hand moving over your head to push the door close. “It’s hard to keep a secret when you’re so obvious about it.”

You whine, bratty again, and he shuts up the noise with a press of his mouth over yours, “It was only fun for like, two months.” You mutter into his mouth, “But really, Buck. Everyone here is so oblivious that we could probably fuck on the conference table and they wouldn’t notice.”

A strangled breath falls out of his mouth, “We- we haven’t—f—” He can’t even bring himself to say it, because unfortunately, he is so stupidly shy when it comes to you. “D-don’t say f...” His face burns red and he attempts to look at anything else but your devious smile as you tap a finger over the band of his sweatpants.

“Fuck?” You laugh, “Fucky-fuck-fuck, Bucky-Buck-Buck.”

Then, quick as a whip, you leap up and lock your ankles around his waist, knees splayed out to his sides. Automatically, his hands catch underneath your bottom. Three months of secretly dating and all he’s done is kiss you senseless in utility closets. And now you’re saying… Jesus.

You’re going to kill him, he thinks.

Leaning back, you almost pitch out of his hold but then you stop yourself and slowly shrug the shirt—his shirt from your torso. “You wanna, right? Three months, Bucko. You’re playing a slow burn game that I am not good at.” You grin and drop the shirt onto the floor, the sight of your bare skin turning his entire body hot. “Bucky…!” You whine loudly, bouncing in his arms, “Come on!”

He groans at the way you shift against his groin and thinks fuck it. If you kill him, it’ll be a good thing. Rest in damn good pieces. Bucky sighs and tilts forward, pressing his nose to your neck, inhaling the scent of maple syrup. “Baby, you’re so—”

The door slams open and you yelp, falling out of Bucky’s hands and onto the floor on your back. “What the fuck!”

Steve is pointing, wide triumphant grin across his face, “I knew it! I knew that shirt looked familiar!” Bucky pitches forward, covers your bare chest with his body and nearly crushes you underneath.

“You fucking perv, Steve! Stop trying to look at my tit-tats!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Steve cries, turning around. Bucky kicks the door shut with his foot as you continue to curse out Steve on the other side of the door. With an amused sigh at the way your nose scrunches up as you hurl insults, he presses his nose to your collarbone again, licks away the stain of syrup you’d dropped earlier on yourself.

--

He wakes up in your empty bed around noon, groggy and a little confused as to why you’re suddenly gone. Disappointment and fear sparks in his chest at the thought of his lonely state. Was it bad? Maybe this is how you’re breaking up with him. Fuck—was it that bad?

Bucky slowly gets up, slips on his sweatpants from the earlier morning and scoops his clothes into his arms, mind set on clearing out his belongings from your room if the relationship is truly over, not even bothering to put a shirt on.

The hallway isn’t empty this time—down the walkway you are crouched with something in your hand in front of Natasha’s room, but you pay him no mind. Bucky tucks his clothing under his arm, turning around to close your door before his eyes catch sight of what’s been newly taped to it.

An enormous poster decorates the plain paint. Steve’s face is blown up and touches each corner. Over his eyes you’ve photoshopped two enormous breasts and under his chin are the words: Steve Rogers, Local Pervert.

Bucky sputters before a loud howling laughter tears itself from his throat as he pitches over to hold himself up on the door frame. It’s obscene—the petty revenge, it’s your worst one yet. He’s really going to fall in love with you, he thinks.

Down the hallway, you look over and grin at him, taping yet another poster to someone else’s door. Over your torso, again, as always, is his shirt.

[janellion]

1,2,10 and 13 for the self-ship thingie!!! hehe

HI EM BB ILY HOW ARE YOU??? tysm for sending this in!!! I’M SORRY IT’S COMING LIKE A WEEK LATE KJHSDG ya girl has been stressed and managing time poorly ajkdf but HERE IT IS!! 

1. where was your first date? 

i’m going to answer for canon since i don’t think i’ve done that yet! bo as himself (ofc) and me as nekoma’s manager! bokay’s first date was not so much a date date so much as going out with the nekoma and fukurodani teams after a practice match one day where both of the teams were trying to get us together by pulling the most OBVIOUS STUFF and we were both too flustered and embarrassed and IN DENIAL to notice 

kuroo saying that everyone has to sit at one table except us? because “there’s not enough room for you two to sit here, you can sit over at that table” as he points over to a tiny table tucked in the corner of the restaurant

me: “but kuroo there’s two more seats at that table?” 

lev, stretching out like the giant lanky boi he is to take up 4 chairs instead of one as konoha throws his body across the table: “no there’s not enough room sorry” 

yaku silently rolling his eyes at the antics but also giving me a gentle push toward the table like, “PLEASE, you’re going to have a better time over there anyways” 

akaashi just gives bo a look like: “they’re not going to stop unless you do it” as he gives him a light nudge on the shoulder toward the table 

SO THEN we are at this tiny table and awkwardly not making eye contact as kuroo sends over one drink with two straws and we have 20 eyes trained on us like: 👀😏

anyways, we end up finishing the free drink (THANKS KUROO) and booking it out of the restaurant, laughing as the teams splutter and protest, and wandering around town for the rest of the afternoon, finally relaxing now that we’re not around everyone

we spend a lot of the time talking about how silly the teams are and pretending not to realize what they were getting up to at the restaurant, but also just enjoying each other’s company 

we don’t realize how much time has passed until the sun is starting to set and we sort of just look at each other in surprise? but there’s another practice match coming up the next week so we make plans to ditch the teams afterwards and have an actual afternoon that we spend together 

we never call it a “date” BUT when we meet back up with the teams we DEFINITELY BOTH SCREAM about how I HAVE A DATE WITH THEM!!!! FINALLY!!! 

and if bo plays extra well the next week? and if i maybe try and look a little nicer? the teams try and bite their tongues and not tease us about it bc they rly want it to work out and not embarrass us (they’ve been SO FRUSTRATED FOR AGES ABT US NOT DOING ANYTHING so they’re so ready for it to finally come to an end) 

(oml that got so LONG I’M SO SORRY)

2. who normally plans the dates?

tbh we don’t really plan dates so much!! they sort of just happen? one day we’re sitting at home and we look at each other like, “you know what sounds good? KOREAN BBQ” and then 10 minutes later we’re on our way to KBBQ, with me calling to see if they’re open and have any availability, and bo driving and smiling, talking about how hungry he is and how excited he is to go, one hand trying to hold mine as he drives while i’m like “BO BABE I’M ON THE PHONE” but smiling at him regardless

for big events like anniversaries, bo will plan dates!! we sort of take turns planning, so i’ll plan his birthday and he’ll plan my birthday, and then we alternate anniversaries! but he also likes to try and surprise me, so he’ll call akaashi and talk to him about ideas and then one day i’ll come home to him naked and covered in flower petals HAHAHA JK,,,, but not really 👀 in a suit with a huge smile on his face like “WE’RE GOING OUT!! GET CHANGED!!” and i’m standing there bbq sauce on my tiddies tired from work but honestly the smile on his face is all it takes for me to feel ready to stay up all night which we usually end up doing before bo passes out akdfha

10. what do you think their first impression of you would be?

SHORT 

that’s it probably. he would rly notice how short i am bc ya girl is SHORT

i don’t wanna say a bunch of nice things abt myself bc it makes me uncomfy but i think he would think i have a really nice smile and that i’m cute and am a rly kind person 

13. who initiates physical affection more?

BO BABY 

he initiates most of the physical affection!! not bc i don’t want it, but it’s rly not my style to be physically affectionate outside of my so and my family so it would take me some time to get used to it!! he likes to grab my hand and play with my hair and give me hugs from behind where he rests his head on the top of mine. he’s a big thigh grabber and waist grabber and i am HERE FOR IT, i just don’t know how to initiate it as much 

getting more comfortable with it, i’ll initiate things more by holding his hand or playing w his hair ALSO GRABBING THAT ASS  but generally bo is the one that initiates physical affection more 

+++

I’M SO SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG AHHH but thank you for sending it in!! i’m gonna be answering the rest of them tonight before i go to bed hopefully!! 

also: EM I LOVE YOUUU 

🌻 bokay taglist (also my faves): @deadontheinsidebut @stcrryskies @sstardusty @zoni @kuronekomama @anianimol @the-kool-aid-man-is-real @nekoma-hoe @sugacookiies @churochuu @shoyosun @achoohq @miel-meraki

[retrovirge]

burn - intruality

possible tw(s) ; mentions of scars/burns, implied bullying

this is a commission for someone on amino! i’m sorry this took me so long to get to, motivation hasnt been kind ^^” but anyways, here it is!

word count - 1342

~🔥~

Patton Morale.

Patton was a nice teenage boy. He was loved by most people his age, a great cook, and could easily burn your ears off with silly yet horrible dad jokes.

However, not everyone seemed to think that.

See, Patton was great, but he had a… Thing about him. A thing that seemed to scare the people that once loved him.

Basically, a few months ago, there was a church near his house that was set aflame by god knows what. Upon going to see what was happening, he realized there were some children still in the flame ridden church. So naturally, he went in and got the children out safely, never wanting to see other people get hurt when he could do something about it.

However, the heroic act caused him to have some hypertrophic burns that scarred his face, and he hadn’t looked the same since that incident.

He had lump like spots on his cheeks caused from the scars, along with one right next to his eye that caused him to have to keep it closed, and they often frightened people. It made him upset. He knew the scars would heal eventually, but not for at least 6 months to 3 years after the burn made its way into his life, and carved into the skin. That was what he got for being a good person, he supposed.

So naturally, his /wonderful/ friend group began to edge away from him upon the realization of all the weird looks they received from others. Those days were rough, but the day they finally let him go was the day that hurt him most.

Patton began to wear a literal mask to cover his face, (after making his parents allow the school to let him, because they hated seeing Patton so sad-) so that nobody else could come in and break through the mask, and see his true colours.

But then came the new kid.

He was a year older than Patton. Odd. Interesting. Had a mustache. Often made dirty jokes and remarks that made Patton wonder what went through his head.

Patton was assigned to give this boy a tour, and Remus had curiously asked why he had a mask on. He joked about Patton being a secret criminal spy in some form of shitty disguise, which the moral side found quite amusing.

Eventually, the two became friends. Best friends. Patton was the outcasted mask kid, and Remus was the kid everyone thought was incredibly weird due to his personality, so it fit perfectly.

A few months later, Patton opened up to Remus.

He was walking with the other late at night, when he turned to him. “Hey, can I talk to you?”

Remus glanced over to Patton, raising an eyebrow. “About what? Have you finally decided that we should…”

Patton chose to tune out the rest of that less than ideal comment, ignoring it.

“No, I want… I want to talk to you about my mask.”

That got Remus’ attention. “...What about it?”

Patton let out a sigh, shifting uneasily as they stopped on a small bridge, the curly haired blonde leaning against the railing as he looked up at Remus. “...Do you want me to take it off?”

“Take what o-“

“The mask. Focus, Remus.”

“Right- sorry- uh- I mean-“ Remus scratched the back of his neck. “If- you want to? I- don’t want to force you, but-“ He paused, noticing Patton already reaching to take it off.

[c]The mask was removed from its usual spot on Patton’s face, and Remus’ eyes widened slightly.

Whoa. Patton was hiding a face like THAT?

Remus, too star-stricken by Patton’s beauty, barely noticed the scars/lumps coating his face until he started talking.

“Look- you see? You see all these stupid lumps and scars-? They- they RUINED my life. Earlier this year, I decided to-“ He frowned, starting to talk fast, and quite frantically. “I went into a church that was on fire and there were these kids in it and I saved the kids but my face got burnt and then I lost all my friends and then I started getting teased so I started wearing the mask and then you came along and I was scared that you would hate me for my face too and I’m so-“

“Whoa, chill out there, mister panic room.” Remus raised an eyebrow at the other. “Okay- first of all, I barely even noticed those lumps until you said something. Second of all, I don’t- really give a shit about your face. Have you seen ME?” Patton opened his mouth to scold Remus, but the man gave him a look that made Patton close it again and nod quietly. “Thirdly, I think you’re pretty damn cool for saving a buncha kids. You must’ve had some shitty ass friends if they left you cause your face got ‘fucked up’ according to them, when really you just got some battle scars. I mean, now you have some sorta symbol that you did something cool! Like- wow!”

Patton looked- very surprised. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, swallowing thickly before opening it again. “So… You- really don’t care?” His voice was wobbly.

Remus gave a slight smirk and rolled his eyes fondly, shaking his head and ruffling Patton’s hair, throwing an arm around him. “‘Course not, dumbass. You’re pretty cute. Plus, you’re like- my best friend. Those scars’ll fade anyway, so even if I did care, it’s not like it’ll be a permanent thi-“

“Oh, thank you, Remus!” Patton practically threw himself at the other, a sob escaping him as he wrapped his arms tightly around his stomach, grasping onto him and hiccuping into his chest, making Remus jump a little. Cause, well- he wasn’t the best with emotions.

Standing there for a few seconds as Patton cried into his chest, he eventually slowly hugged back, face heating up with embarrassment as he rubbed his back a little, biting his lip. “Er- there there, it’s all cool. Uh- you wanna like- go back to my place and grab ice cream? My parents are outta town.”

Patton sniffled and looked up at Remus with teary eyes, biting his lip and giving him a shaky smile. “That- would be nice, thank you.” He whispered, nodding and slowly pulling away from the hug.

Remus hesitated for a moment, and then offered a hand out to him, grinning toothily as Patton took it. Together, they began to walk back to Remus’ place, where they then ate a shit ton of ice cream and laughed together the whole night, Patton feeling the happiest he'd felt in months.

Eventually, his scars did heal. And once he looked ‘normal’ again, he stopped wearing his mask. Actually, he stopped wearing it even before that. Remus gave him the confidence to not give a shit about what anyone thought. (Plus, if anyone even looked at Patton wrongly, Remus would death stare ‘em and easily scare them off.)

After he healed, his friend group tried to get back to him again. But Patton denied their friendship, telling them these exact words while taking Remus’ hand.

“I don’t need people who don’t respect me for my personality and not my looks. I have that now, and I certainly didn’t find it in people like you.”

The two outcasts of highschool stayed friends for the remainder of their years at that place, protecting each other with their goddamn lives because that was what best friends did.

Patton did eventually make more friends. Remus introduced him to his twin brother Roman, and Roman’s boyfriend Logan, and they had whole ass viBes together, Patton always loving to see the shenanigans of the twins while Logan just sat there, probably wondering why he and Patton made the decision to date/befriend these idiots.

And yes, Roman eventually did set Patton and Remus up on a date. And g u e s s what?

They’re married now, 5 and a half years later.

Looks like Patton won this round.

~🔥~

[pixiegrl]

hi em! 💖 no. 2 of the dialogue starter at an art gallery with cake? (or any pairing that you think it fits actually)

Shal! Hi! This was so fun getting to write about Cake. It ended up turning into museum instead of art gallery, but I was feeling nostalgic and was thinking about the time my friend and I went to the MFA so Luke and Calum went on a date to the MFA. (im Luke lol). I hope you enjoy it!

It’s also on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26578555

Calum wakes up to Luke shaking him awake. Calum pretends to be asleep for a little longer, if only to hear Luke huff fondly and lean down to kiss him awake. Calum grins into the kiss, leaning into it and tugging at the back of Luke’s neck to pull him closer. 

“Cal, that’s cheating,” Luke whines, but he returns the kiss with enthusiasm, grinning against his lips until he remembers the reason he was trying to wake Calum up so early.

“Cal, you’re distracting me.”

“Can’t we just stay in bed?” 

“We have a whole plan for today,” Luke whines, tugging on Calum’s hand to get him out of bed. Luke has a point. It’s rare they get a day off, especially on tour. They’re staying in Boston and Luke has been excited to go to the art museum here. It’s a date, just the two of them, even rarer than a day off is. Luke has been talking animatedly about their date for the last week, pouring over the museum’s website, trying to find the optimal day to visit. Calum doesn’t mind one way or another. As long as he gets to spend the day with his boyfriend, he doesn’t care where they go.

Luke’s already up and out of the bed, rummaging around in his suitcase for something to put on. He looks soft in the morning light streaming in through the curtains, all blonde and tousled curls and sleep-soft skin. Luke stands up, clutching his shirt and leather pants close to his chest. Calum sits up, beckoning Luke over to press another soft kiss to his lips. 

Luke giggles. “What was that for?”

“Just wanted to say I love you.” Calum shrugs. Luke giggles again, shaking his head, and heading into the bathroom. Luke always makes Calum a little weak, as ethereal and lovely as he is. Calum is still a little dazed that Luke loves him, wants to be with him too. Luke with his golden heart and voice, who’s special and wonderful, thinks that Calum is just as magical and charming. Michael says it’s disgusting how cute they are, but Calum doesn’t mind if it means he gets to give Luke kisses and see him blush.

Calum gets up out of bed, checking the weather on his phone and pulling out what he thinks is probably an appropriate shirt and jeans for the brisk May day. He’s just finished putting on his boots when Luke breezes out of the bathroom, tucking the ends of his shirt into his pants. He looks up at Calum, grinning brightly when they make eye contact. He presses a kiss to the corner of Calum’s mouth as he brushes by and bends down to grab his boots. Calum takes his turn in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face, fluffing his curls until Luke starts knocking impatiently on the door, like he’s not the worst offender of taking forever to fix his hair.

Luke already has his jacket on when Calum opens the door, bouncing excitedly on the heels of his boots.

“Are you finally ready?” 

“I’m not the one who had to fix his hair in the mirror and put on all his rings,” Calum teases, just to see Luke smile and flush. He grabs Calum’s hand, lacing their fingers together as he tugs him out the door. 

The trek from their hotel to the museum isn’t far. Luke hums the whole way, swinging their linked hands between them as he goes. There’s a gentle breeze, blowing Luke’s curls around his face and Calum isn’t sure he could describe how in love with him he is at the moment. 

“What are you thinking about? You look pensive.” 

Calum shrugs. “Just wondering what your plan for the day is. You spent all that time online; it seemed like you had an idea.” 

“The Impressionist exhibit. It’s got all the flowers and water scenes. The ballerinas. It’s so dreamy. I wanna see that wing. More exciting than the Revolutionary paintings.” 

“What, you don’t wanna look at pictures of dead white guys in wigs?” Calum teases, bumping shoulders with Luke when he shoots Cal a horrified expression. 

“Don’t even joke, Cal. Not when there’s art on the line.” 

Calum holds his hands up in mock surrender, grinning when Luke sticks his tongue out at him. They pass by some local coffee shop and Calum pulls them in, ordering them both coffees and a muffin to eat while walking. Calum likes this Luke best, the one who shoves the too big end of a blueberry muffin in his mouth, blushing when Calum laughs at how silly he looks with his cheeks puffed out. This Luke is uninhibited, unafraid of what he looks like to other people. It’s rare to catch him like this, but it’s a gift when he is. He swallows the bite, blushing harder when Calum leans over and presses a quick kiss to his lips.

“What was that for?”

“You looked cute. Thought you deserved a kiss.”

Luke ducks his head, failing to hide his grin. Calum turns, busying himself with drinking his coffee. Luke presses a quick kiss to Calum’s cheek, turning away just as quickly to stare straight ahead. Calum smiles, sappy, soft, and in love. 

They continue their walk to the museum, Luke getting visibly more excited the closer they get. He’s fully bouncing on the balls of his feet by the time it comes into view, tugging on Calum’s hand to get him to speed up. Calum laughs, letting Luke practically drag him up the steps of the museum. Calum stops when he sees the statues out front, giant stone baby heads.

“Luke, what the fuck are those?” Calum asks, laughing as he points at them. Luke makes a face when he sees them, visibly distrubed. Calum laughs even harder at that, letting Luke tug him up the steps. Other patrons keep shooting them looks but Calum can’t be bothered, too focused on the look of determination and elation on Luke’s face.

Luke buys their tickets, grabbing a map as they leave the front desk. He stares intensely at it before turning to Calum.

“Cal, I have no fucking clue where to go.”

Calum takes the map from him, turning it until it’s lined up with where they are and pointing them in the direction of where they should go. He takes them up the back staircase to the third floor, realizes it’s the wrong floor, and takes them back down before recognizing that this is a different staircase and he’s not sure where they are. Luke huffs, taking the map from Calum and proceeding to get them even more lost going back up yet another staircase. 

One of the museum guards must take pity on them, watching them go in yet another lap around the floor for the third time, each pointing in opposite directions of where they should go. She comes over to them, asking them where they’re trying to go. She manages to point them in the direction of the correct staircase to the floor they’re looking for and Luke thanks her profusely, tugging Calum off in that direction. He takes the stairs two at a time, bursting through the door and dragging Calum through the wing.

“Don’t you want to stop and see the other stuff?” Calum asks, grinning cheekily and pointing at some Revolutionary War painting. Luke hums.

“Yeah, yeah it’s another painting of a white dude in a bad wig,” Luke says dismissively as he speedwalks through the maze of exhibits until the edge of some ballerina statue comes into view.

Luke barely manages to keep himself from running across the museum floor into the room. He comes to a stop in front of the ballerina, mouth open in a soft “o” of wonder as he looks at her. Calum figures he should be looking at the art, but he can’t tear his eyes away from Luke’s face, full of reverence and joy standing there. Luke stares at the statue for a few more moments until he tugs Calum over to a painting of more ballerinas. He starts reading the little plaque out loud, rambling on about Degas and ballet and the meaning of the painting. Calum continues to stare at him, talking animatedly and enraptured by the painting.

“Did you just hear a word I said?” Luke asks, turning to Calum, huffing exasperatedly. 

“Too busy looking at you and how happy you are,” Calum answers honestly. Luke blushes bright red, ducking his head.

“You’re cheesy.”

“Only for you, sweetheart.” 

“We’re here for the art, Calum.”

“You are art. Besides, you’re much more interesting than any museum plaque.”

Luke blushes, burying his face into Calum’s shoulder. “You’re not allowed to be cute in the museum right now. I can’t take it.”

“Too bad, you’re already the cutest thing in this museum. They should make a statue of you.”

Luke whines, smacking him again, “You’re a menace.”

Calum laughs loudly, Luke smacking and shushing him again when people look over at them. They walk around the wing a few more times, Luke staring intensely at each painting and plaque, pouring over each one. Eventually Calum sits down on one of the benches, waiting until Luke is satisfied with his viewing and comes to sit down next to him. They sit there for a while, Luke still looking around, Calum looking at Luke.

Luke sits up straight, turning to Calum. “Ready to go?”

Calum nods and stands, taking Luke’s hand and they make their way back down to the ground floor. They stop at the gift shop and Calum buys Luke a handful of postcards of the art they’ve seen. Luke protests, but Calum insists that it’s important to remember the day.

They make their way back to the hotel, Calum checking messages from Ashton and Michael while Luke giggles along to the messages Calum reads out loud. They stop at the coffee shop again, this time grabbing sandwiches to go with their coffee. They sit down at a table off in the corner, wrapping their feet together under the table as they eat.

“Thanks for going with me,” Luke says. Calum smiles, reaching over to lace their fingers together.

“Of course, sweetheart. I just love spending time with you, making you happy. I’m glad we got to have this date.” Calum lifts Luke’s hand up, kissing the back of it. Luke giggles, glowing in the light coming in through the cafe windows. Calum loves their jobs, loves the band, but sometimes he loves this more, getting to spend these private, quiet moments with Luke, happy and in love.

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: T

Chapter Summary:   Luka and XY have a double date with Marinette and Adrien.

Word Count: 1627 | 5/5

Notes:  It’s the epilogue!  Takes place a while later, at least a few months.  @luxyweek thank you so much for this event!!

XXX

“Hey!  Over here!”  XY waved like he was trying to flag down an airplane.  

“I’m pretty sure they’ve already seen you,” Luka deadpanned, but he couldn’t suppress a smile.  As if anyone could’ve missed XY’s tall quiff, though Luka admitted he stood out more in XY’s purple jacket.

It was worth it, to see the grin it put on his boyfriend’s face.  And it almost no longer smelled like Doritos.

“Sorry we’re late!”  Marinette sounded out of breath as she plopped down at the edge of the Seine.  Her ice cream almost fumbled from her hands, but Adrien caught it with a smile and sat beside her.

“It’s no problem.  We know you’ve got busy schedules,” Luka said. 

He and XY had doubled with Alya and Nino twelve times in the last few months, but Marinette and Adrien were somehow more elusive.   Akuma attacks and other last-minute cancellations kept pushing their plans back.  He guessed that was to be expected when two out of the four of them were famous and the other two were getting there.

He was getting there, thanks to partnering with XY on his newest album.  It was a weird thought.  He still played with Kitty Section too, of course, but the collaboration had brought enough attention to the tiny band to get them into a minor record deal.  Nothing as fancy as what XY used to have with Bob Roth, but it had far fewer strings attached.

“So do you, now.”  Adrien punched his shoulder.  “You two are still going to California next week, right?”

“Yeah!  Kitty Section world tour, babey!”  XY grinned and flashed the new hand sign he’d come up with for the band.  It looked something like a shadow puppet cat, if it was missing a leg and been run over by a truck.

Adrien and Marinette blinked in surprise, and Luka hastily corrected, “It’s not a world tour.  We’re just going to open for a few concerts, see if the two of us can expand our name.  Jules and the others are too young to be traveling all over the world.”

“Pshaw, I’ve been trippin’ since I was, like, ten.  They’d be fine.”

Luka was pretty sure “trippin” didn’t mean what XY thought it meant.  Either way, Juleka might be fine with traveling to the states—Mom didn’t really care what they got up to—but Rose and Ivan’s parents would probably take issue.  

“Maybe I didn’t want to bring all of them along.  Did you think about that?”  His heartsong beat with anticipation for the trip.  Just him, his boyfriend, probably a lot of mac ’n’ cheese, a new city… there’d be so much musical inspiration, too.

XY’s mouth made a tiny o before he grinned.  “Aww, Lu, you didn’t tell me this was our honeymoon!”

Marinette just about choked on her blackberry-and-peppermint ice cream.

“You’re engaged?”  Adrien asked, eyes wide.

“No, NO.  Babe, you’ve got to stop that.”  Luka smacked XY’s chest, making him spill a glob of blueberry-cheesecake ice cream on Luka’s hand.  Luka rolled his eyes and licked it off.

“But their faces!”  XY cackled, but eventually relented.  “Naw, we’re still takin’ it slow.  It’s nice to just enjoy dating without my dad breathing down my neck.”

Getting XY to move away from his dad (and stay in Paris) was one of the best things that had ever happened to them.  Luka was lucky his boyfriend was a pop star who could afford the high city rent.

“I’m really happy for you.”  Marinette said once she recovered.  Her smile was directed at Luka and XY equally—of course, XY had told Luka about the advice she’d given him.

“Back atcha,” XY replied, holding his fist out for a bump, which she returned with a giggle.  “Looks like you finally talked to your dude too, huh.  Did you play him a sick tune?  Sew him a fancy little jacket?”

Adrien smirked at the blush on his girlfriend’s face.  “Well, she did make us matching—”

“Shut up.”

“...matching Ladybug and Chat Noir pajamas,” he whispered behind his hand. 

XY cracked up, laughing so hard he snorted.  That laugh never failed to make Luka smile, though Juleka thought he was crazy for it.

“See, Lu, they’re furries!  Why can’t we get matching Viperion and, I don’t know… maybe just matching Viperion hoodies?  I don’t think he has a partner.”  XY frowned, tapping his lip, which was stained with a smudge of blueberry ice cream.

“You know, I think he might.”  Marinette said with a wink at Luka.  Wait—did she know?  How did she know?  At least she was trustworthy; she wouldn’t give away his secret.  And it wasn’t like he was taking Sass to California, anyway.  “If you can convince Luka, I’ll make you some matching Viperion gear.”

Luka’s face warmed at the thought of his boyfriend in his alter ego’s merch.  He wasn’t a frequent enough Miraculous holder for anyone to sell anything official-looking, but that hadn’t stopped XY from latching onto him.  In XY’s words, “his abs are almost sexy enough to make me leave you, Lu.”  That had been a bit of a confidence-booster.

“If you’re not too busy.  And I’ll pay twice your usual commission fee,” Luka said.  He had plenty of money now, and he wanted to make up for all the times Marinette had designed Kitty Section’s costumes for free.  “No hoodies, though.  I can’t replace this one.  Maybe a t-shirt, if that’s okay?”

“Of course!  And thanks, Luka.”

“Awww, my jacket grew on you,” XY said, pecking him on the cheek.  Some of the ice cream stickiness was left behind, but Luka didn’t wipe it off.

“Just like someone else I know.”  He bumped his shoulder before stealing a bite of ice cream himself.

“You know, I’ve never asked.  How did you two end up dating?”  Adrien asked.  “I’ve heard parts of the story, but never straight from you guys.”

“That’s because we’re not straight,” XY said like Adrien was stupid.

Luka suppressed a snort.  “I wish I could tell you.  Like I said, this idiot just kind of grew on me.  Like a song that’s not your favorite at first, but the more you listen to it, the more it means to you.”

“Pshaw, I’ve been in love with Lu from the first time he cradled my face and literally took my breath away.  It doesn’t get gayer than that.”  XY took a giant bite of the cheesecake ice cream.  “An’ the way he stoo’ up to Da’?” He swallowed.  “Very sexy.” 

Luka would have to down the entire cup of ice cream to fight off the flush that was forming on his face.  He loved how honest his boyfriend could be; it was like he had no filter when it came to saying anything, positive or negative.  But man, did it make him want to kiss him indecently in public.

“You mean when he was Silencer?”  Marinette blinked.

“Uh-huh.  Now that was a sick costume.  You think we could wear something like that for our next concert?”

“Um, XY, it’s kind of rude to bring up people’s akumatizations…” Adrien began, but Luka just smiled.  

“Sure, babe.  I bet they’d dig that in the States.”  It wasn’t like he remembered his time as Silencer, and all things considered, Luka didn’t regret the experience.  If he hadn’t been akumatized, he wouldn’t have made such an impact on XY.  If anything, he just wished he could remember the face caress XY mentioned.  Surely he hadn’t been attracted to XY even then?

“Well, uh… neat, then.” Marinette smiled awkwardly.  She and Adrien had never been akumatized before; maybe they thought the experience was worse than it was.

“It’s great that you guys can be so open with each other.”  Adrien relaxed, smiling at her.

“Yeah… it’s really nice,” she replied with a grin only slightly less dopey than XY’s.  She’d finally gotten to harmonize with Adrien.  She deserved every bit of lovestruck happiness she could get.

“I’ll drink to that, bro.”  XY gulped down the melted ice cream in the bottom of their cup.  Then he tossed the cup over his shoulder, leaving his hand free to hold Luka’s.

“Dude, you can’t throw trash around.  It’s littering.”

“Huh?  Don’t pigeons eat trash?”

Luka rolled his eyes as Marinette and Adrien laughed.  “Come on.”  He tugged his boyfriend to his feet.  Their hands remained linked as XY picked up the paper cup and tossed it in the nearby garbage can.

“It’s like they’re made for each other,” he heard Marinette say as they sat back down.  “Yin and Yang.  Pop and rock, or something like that.”

“Ooooh, Pop Rocks!  That’s another thing we can get in the States!  You’ve gotta try ’em, Lu—it’s candy that explodes in your mouth like BANG!”  He threw his arms wide, almost smacking Luka in the face.  “Ooh, I bet we could make a song about them!  Do you wanna write the lyrics or can I?  I guess you’ll have to taste them first.  And we could put some sick drums in it and…”

Luka smiled, leaning against his boyfriend’s shoulder and closing his eyes as he talked.  He was so cute when he was invested in something, even if it was a silly American candy.  Luka could feel his heart picking up tempo, the way that always made him want to get out his guitar and compose.  

But there would be plenty of time for them to make music.  For now, he left the instrument on his back, content to just hold his boyfriend’s hand.

[letstalksymphogear]

Symphogear, EP. 6

Last Time on Grand Theft Auto:

Tsubasa recovers from the world’s gayest coma as Hibiki trains her mind while putting aside such silly concepts as “the love of my life” and “literally being with my girlfriend.” After cooling Miku’s paranoia with her brand new washboard abs, Genjuro prepares the team for a pizza run across the city to deliver a dangerously hot pizza pie named Durandal. Chaos emerges as the delivery is intercepted by a rival pizza gang, lead by the nefarious Gremlin known as Yukine Chris. But, before the pizza could be claimed, dedicated pizza deliverywoman Hibiki not only steals it back, but eats it, harnessing the power of the pizza and unleashing cheesy pasta based chaos around the location.

Ryoko is so into it that she taps into her superpowers and protects Hibiki after she passes out. The delivery is considered a failure, and no tip is given.

And so, the journey continues...

Meanwhile, in this weird, tricked out mansion...

Chris meditates on some water metaphors of her own.

“that pacman colored freak took only touching it to activate a cheap ass french sword that gave her weird demon powers and its taken me YEARS to use this dumb stripper outfit and the funny cane that goes with it, what the FUCK man, what even is my life”

“maybe... maybe honeybaked hams ARE that powerful...”

“NO! turkey is the superior meat! it’s healthier, lower in fat, and way more tasty! fuck you! i’ll get my goddamned revenge!”

Chris begins musing about Fine’s motivations to capture Hibiki; during these, we’re treated to some brief image flashbacks of Chris’s life.

Suddenly, those jokes about food are a lot less funny.

It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together as to why this young woman is helping a strange nudist dominatrix spread alien terror across the city of mumblednoises, Japan. She doesn’t really have many an option on the table. It’s either help the weird kinkster with her plans, or die.

Despite everything, she has a high opinion of Fine, for the same reasons someone might have a high opinion of a television show if it were the only show they were ever exposed to. She is deeply afraid of being alone again, because she has lived through such misery that the very thought of existing out in the cold again terrifies the shit out of her.

The Sun rises casually amidst Chris’s thoughts.

“ah shit. it just hit me. i literally have spent the entire night standing here instead of actually going the fuck to sleep. goddamnit.”

On such a devious metaphorical twist, Fine stands behind her as the Sun rises.

“yeah, jokes on you. i couldnt sleep for shit either. turns out, all nude, no blankets? in japan? real bad idea.”

“thats why i decided to GO GOTH, babey! whattaya think? do i give those witchy vibes, huh? real ‘black magic woman’ santana hours? feeling cute, gonna head out with the girls and summon satan in the woods kinda aesthetic looking shit? come on, be real with me. does this not look baller?”

“you look like morticia decided to go to the grocery store to buy some wonder bread, but other than that, its a step up from your usual pussy out attitude, so sure”

“you know i decided to get some brain cells on loan from Brain Cells R Us, and ive been thinking this solomon cane stuff is solomon lame. i dont need this dumb oversized harry potter cosplay prop to get shit done. also, murder is... sorta bad? im still trying to get the brain cell stuff down.”

“i can punch just as good as goody two shoes if not better.”

“lol go do it then champ, im gonna go cut down a forest of trees now”

And so, they both just kinda... stand there.

“QUACK, NEXT SCENE, QUACK”

Meanwhile, Tsubasa is rapidly trying to rehabilitate herself from her wounds like walking like a madman, her IV drip presumably filled with Taco Bell brand Doritos Locos Tacos super spicy nacho cheese. Taco Bell: Live Mas.

“im gonna clear every fucking taco bell in your goddamned memory, kanade”

“think outside the bun! wait, what? that was a taco bell slogan? ah fuck it, im dead. what nerd’s gonna try and correct me?”

“i would, kanade. i am that nerd.”

Tsubasa is hell bent to try and understand Kanade’s simple philosophy of helping others selflessly. Unfortunately, when Kanade died, she took all the brain cells between them in the process, so coming to this epiphany is a work in progress.

“listen its a fucking miracle you are 1. alive and 2. able to have your blood run on the garbage melted plastic taco bell tries to dupe people into believing is cheese so why dont you just lie down and think of better franchises to eat from”

“no! you dont understand! taco bell is a franchise of the PEOPLE! their meals are cheap and filling and- and the chicken quesadillas are of good quality for their price! i promised kanade- my vow to the death. taco bell... ergh... now and forever... i-”

“wait. my gay senses are tingling.”

It’s Hibiki, probably running track with Miku.

“oh yeah... her... i should probably apologize to her. about trying to kill her. and then letting her almost be kidnapped. and just giving her a general hard time about something that wasn’t explained to her in the slightest for months. she’s a good bean.”

Tsubasa proceeds to never canonically apologize to Hibiki throughout the entirety of all 4 seasons of Symphogear.

Look at em run. See, it’s a metaphor, because they haven’t communicated yet and they’re running from their problems! But they’re running towards Tsubasa, who is part of the representative problem these two share! Clearly literary genius.

It’s like someone went halfway into writing an NTR plotline and went “maybe this isn’t a good idea to market our songs on.”

Hibiki is still thinking about her Hellshake Yano moment with Durandal. Mainly how she nearly killed someone with it. Hibiki is very starkly in the “killing is bad, and wrong” camp of morality, a trait currently unique to her that she’ll wind up teaching literally everyone else she meets one way or another.

Some could argue the L stands for Lydian, and they’re wrong. It stands for Lesbian.

“that was one hell of a run, hibiki! im pooped! why dont we go to the locker room and call it a day, have a nice shower and just get some dinn-”

“this is the last straw.

i clean your plates. i cook your food. we eat, shit, shower, and sleep in the same FUCKING area, and this is how you repay me? huh? you think being your wife is easy shit, hibiki? half the damn time you’re running off like clark kent having food poisoning and the other half ive gotta babysit you, the emotional equivalent of a preteen clown, to make sure your life doesn’t self destruct harder than Atlantis sinking into the ocean. im done! i am DONE. im reopening my tinder, im slamming my ass BACK into okcupid, and im gonna date some CUTE ACADEMY GIRLS that treat me BETTER than this ABSOLUTE BETRAYAL OF HEART AND IM NOT CRYING I SWEAR ITS JUST THE SWEAT IN MY EYES AND HIBIKI HOW COULD YOU-”

“oh yeah, sure! hey, lemme just do a few more laps, ive just been feeling judgmental about myself and my figure, you know? gotta push myself further...”

“o-oh yeah, sure. no worries, ill wait for you. love you too, hibiki...”

The girls bathe together, as good friends typically do.

“hey you ever notice the showers here have like, weird psuedo-luxurious minipools to bathe in? like, how rich is this school?”

“whoever made this place is either rich or a pervert. or both, probably!”

Miku remarks that Hibiki has changed since she’s entered Lydian, in a manner most unheterosexual.

“oh FUCK you really DO have washboard abs now! ohhh my god.”

“damn, those abs were heavenly. let’s get pancakes later.”

I won’t screenshot it but something to note is that they actually wear each other’s corresponding underwear colors (or even, if you want to examine more closely, each other’s underwear). Here’s an equivalent scene to give you the mental image.

This is the face of someone who knows what they want and already have it. Such is the power of Kohinata Miku.

Meanwhile, Genjuro comes back from the funeral of the guy the Americans filled violently and with impunity.

“yo that all black look looks baller. i should borrow that look... id look pretty gothy in it.”

“ryoko i sympathize with your sharp, fashionista eye but this was for a funeral, i was paying my respects to the dead. thats the usual dress code.”

“didnt know they updated that. i remember back in my day, we just went in white garments and chanted in latin!”

“shit was fire. literally. lots of funeral pyres.”

“lmao ryoko buddy your larping sessions arent actual history”

“hey dont shit on larping around me. i used to be a professional larper while i was majoring in acting. helped really sell my career when i had to pretend to slay the Dark Lord Jyarloen atop the mountain of skulls in Hargobor after my family was killed by the Dark Army. asshole.”

“haha yeah, larping, thats cool yeah, i do that

i...

i larp.”

“oh yeah? you wanna join my larping session sometime then? we’re gonna do an ancient babylon plot thats inspired by some anime, itll be fun”

“.....................................im super into realism.”

“i know im dressed for a funeral but id like to not part ways with my dignity yet. besides, we’ve got serious shit to talk about. basically, we’re on the verge of getting shitcanned.”

As it turns out, the death of this politician removed the last obstacle of opposition to maintain the 2nd Division, as the average criticism against the 2nd Division is “why are we funding this mystery division when we don’t know what they do”. Of course, the sensible idea for an organization that defeats the Noise is to declassify it, given people of different jobs and positions have physically seen the Symphogear in action, but you know. “Oh no, the other governments will come after us” stick gets shaken.

“im in a union. i know my rights. you’re not taking my acting job here away from me.”

“im not going back to be a preschool teacher. its been ten year. the bites on my ankles still havent healed...”

“yeah man, shit sucks ass. i cant fund my adoption habits if im fired.”

Look at these cinematic parallels. Symphogear truly is a franchise made by someone living in 3030.

“worst part is the new minister is super into america. he’s a... westaboo.”

“a westaboo?”

“westaboo?”

“did he just unironically say westaboo”

“he said westaboo. oh my god. this is the hell timeline.”

“i mean people kept calling me that for worshipping all these fighting flicks so i guess it fit? i dont see the problem here”

Meanwhile, in Lydian Academy...

“so it hit me, right? we’re ALL girls. and we ALL sing. now, humor me a moment. what if... what if we’ve all been recruited to potentially be superheroes... through our singing? like, there’s no coincidence that all this shit happens around us, right? and a famous singer LIVES here? i saw the black cars outside! weird shit is happening here- im not even gonna eat the all you can eat bar anymore!”

“kathy there is literally no such thing as superheroes who sing. this place is more likely to be a organ harvesting op than whatever madness you’re saying”

“what? you need me, a singing superhero, to go stop a problem happening underneath the school, a location meant to recruit young women into potentially becoming fellow crime fighting singers?”

“yeah im too busy poppin’ caps in asses so go kick ass in my place”

“sure!”

“.....................................who ya talkin to, hibiki?”

“the boss! gotta go do a thing again...”

“hibiki, i dont like the fact that capitalism is tearing us apart.”

“you’ve gotta join me in the revolution, hibiki. you. me. luxury automated gay space communism. aint it the dream? share my vision, hibiki. its glorious.”

“n... no...? no gay space communism today? well, what about tomorrow? or the next day? or... maybe the next day? baby steps, you say? but, direction action, hibiki! we’ve gotta strike now!”

“it’s okay hibiki. when i take over the world and destroy all first world government leaders, and unite the globe in my encompassing reign and love... ill make sure to spare you, and be my bride to be.”

“thanks miku. im just not ready yet for the globe to burn in an unending ball of fire as the continents fuse into a new utopia composed of our combined wills. also, ive really gotta go, its genuinely an emergency.”

“for the cause!”

“yes hibiki... for the cause...”

Admittedly, you can see the stages of grief Miku goes through when she sees Hibiki say she can’t join her for pancakes. It’s sad. This side story sucks.

Meanwhile, as it turns out, the problem Hibiki needed to resolve was checking on Tsubasa to see if she hadn’t dissolved into Taco Bell brand hot n’ spicy Tabasco sauce.

“god, cant believe taco bell was closed. now i gotta deliver these lame ass flowers”

“cant wait to get threatened again. wonder what she’ll say. ‘hibiki, i should have killed you when i had the chance.’ or ‘you’re so goddamned weak. i could break your spine with my fingernail’, or some other stuff about metaphors. oh, my stops here”

“HEY BITCH WHATS GOOD-”

“HOLY SHIT”

“you are already”

“dead.”

[killian-whump]

I'm not the troll anon, but I REALLY want to see your bulleted list of why you hate babies on tv shows... To see how many points we might have in common.

WELCOME TO MY TED TALK!!!!

Sorry, I’m a little excited, Nonny. I’ve been waiting all day to tell everybody why I friggin’ hate fictional babies so I’m just, wow, I’m just really happy you’re here and asking me why I hate those little fuckers.

Alright now, before we get into the bulleted list and everything, lemme first say that there are simply too many babies in the world. They’re everywhere. On TV. In the real world. In @gusenitsaa‘s tummy. In the next room. Wait a fucking minute - WHO THE FUCK LEFT A BABY IN MY GODDAMN HOUSE?!

Okay, really, I just wanted to post that GIF, because I love it, but it really is true. There are way too many babies in the world, and on TV - and especially in Once Upon a Time. I mean, ONE baby is bad enough, but OUAT threw, like, 15 babies at us and none of them ever fucking grew up.

And babies make absolutely TERRIBLE characters. Look out, my friend, because here comes the bulleted list of why they’re fucking awful:

They have no character traits. Hey, tiny human, what’re you about? What do you like? What do you hate? What are your motivations in this scene? Oh, that’s right. You have literally none of these things, because you don’t have a personality that can be defined for an audience yet.

They all look the same. At least toddlers (like Ashley’s kid in 6x03) can wear cute outfits and, you know, have identifying characteristics to differentiate one of them from the next. Babies don’t. They’re either a lump in a pink blanket or a lump in a blue blanket, because babies fucking suck.

They can’t do anything. They are literally a lump, as mentioned above. How do you know who’s the baby in a scene? THEY’RE THE ONE NOT CARRYING THEIR OWN WEIGHT. Literally. They have to be carried everywhere, like a fucking handbag that wails periodically. You can’t give them any lines, and unlike Colin, they can’t close out a scene with a meaningful look.

No one ever uses them properly. If I had a nickel for every time there was a scene where a baby could’ve been used as a projectile weapon and wasn’t... I’d be fucking rich. I mean, that monster chasing you will AT LEAST pause for a hot minute if you throw a fucking baby in his ugly ass face. I promise.

They limit the plotlines for the ‘parents’. Once a couple has a baby, they suddenly can’t go anywhere or do anything on the show without either lugging the baby along or making a throwaway line somewhere about a babysitter. If the ‘parents’ spend too much time off adventuring sans baby, the audience feels like they’re not bothering to raise their kid. If the kid comes along on too many adventures, the audience is left wondering why they brought their 6-month-old adventuring in hell.

They’re used as a shortcut. Wanna show a couple is “true love”? Give ‘em a baby. Wanna show their “happily ever after”? Give ‘em a baby. Wanna create unnecessary drama for no goddamn reason? Give ‘em a baby. Considering how useless these babies are in every possible way (see this entire list), there’s literally no GOOD reason to throw a baby in the mix, other than as a shortcut to drama or emotion that the writers are too damn lazy to actually write.

They’re useless in fandom. Fanfics now have the same issue the show has - what do you do with the damn baby now? Fanartists have less of a problem, since they capture moments instead of plots, but if you’re an artist and you’re not into drawing babies, I hope you’re ready to field a bunch of requests and accusations that you “hate” the bastards. And shipping? No way! Babies aren’t welcome on ANY Bang Trains - unless they happen to be Gideon Gold, who was literally bangable before he was even born. That one’s complicated.

Babies sometimes smell bad. I know, I know. We don’t have smell-o-vision, so I can’t really complain about this, but whenever I see a real baby in a scene, I’m always thinking “please don’t shit right now, please don’t shit right now” because let me tell you, a diaper is nowhere near a solid enough barrier to ever have between yourself and the kind of volcano-like eruptions that can come out of a baby’s bottom. “Do you wanna hold the baby?” No, I don’t wanna fucking play Russian Roulette with that tiny human’s unpredictable anus.

They’re teeny tiny con-artists. That baby ain’t that woman’s baby. Hell, that baby ain’t even that baby! The Olsen twins pretended to be a single baby named Michelle for, like, 50 years or something. Boys pretend they’re girls. 10-month-olds pretend they’re newborns. There’s no one regulating this shit. These fuckers just get away with claiming to be whoever or whatever they want. And let me tell you the worst part...

They’re not even fucking alive. More often than not, they’re fucking dolls. And before you think, “But dolls are cute!” let me tell you, dolls are not always cute. Steve Pearlman posted a picture from the set of Baby Neal in his crib and it was awful. I can’t find it right now, because Satan obviously came and took it back to whatever hell it came from, but I assure you it was the worst thing ever.

And this brings me to my final point: They’re embarrassing. Actors do a lot of silly things, like riding on giant green pickles and biting enormous green donuts... but holding dolls and looking at them adoringly will always be one of THE stupidest things actors get tasked with doing. Like, I can’t see an actor or actress holding (what is more often than not) an obvious doll and take them seriously. I mean, when the fact it’s a doll is hidden well, it can create a touching image... but when it’s obvious? Oh, shit. Second hand cringe. I can’t enjoy it. I feel bad for the actors, honestly, especially when the doll looks like a $5 Walgreens special instead of, like, an ultra-realistic ReBorn doll. Now, I love Colin like it’s my sole purpose in life, but this is some bad fake baby shit here:

But don’t get me wrong. Not ALL babies are bad. Just, you know, almost all of them. Flashback babies can be okay. They’re like, “Hello, I’m here and- Oh, nevermind, I’m now all grown and you never even had time to think about me pooping.” And they’re great for touching family moments, as long as the cast/crew bother to hide the fakeness long enough for a nice screencap. As I’ve said before, I DO love the closing shot of CS and Baby Hope:

And I loved the scene of Hook singing to Baby Alice:

And yeah, I admit that Colin’s presence is the main reason I like both of those moments. Being Hook’s baby makes one of these tiny human creatures somewhat interesting in my opinion... but only somewhat. It’s still a baby, and that still makes it absolutely dreadful in a general sense ;)

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk!!!

[cinderellaahhh]

FIND TEAM NAMES

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🏐🏐🏐🏐Funny Volleyball Team Names

1. Hit For Brains – Definitely not the smartest team out there.

2. Size Matters – Only if you’re short... or small, even.

3. Beavis and Bumphead – After Beavis and Butthead.

4. Ball Busters – The ball won’t be the same shape after playing this team.

5. Phantom Balls – Now you see them, now you don’t.

6. Setsaholics Anonymous – They’re going to sets you up.

7. Block Magic – After the South Park episode Cock Magic.

8. ACME Roofing – There won’t be a roof for long when you play this team.

9. Balls In Your Face – That’s got to be painful.

10. Safe Sets – How sets should be.

11. Practice Safe Sets – Practice every

day.

12. Where’s My Beaches At? – At the

beach?

13. How I Set Your Mother – Do tell.

14. The Dirty Half Dozen – Nice and filthy.

15. Hit Head – Why score points when you

can reduce your rivals’ brain cells?

16. Sand Eaters – They have a habit of

falling over.

17. Donald Bump – Bumping away

ignorantly of the rest of the world.

18. Nine Inch Males – So small?

19. Heads In The Sand – Stay away from

danger!

20. Good Volley Ms. Molly – Why thank

you!

21. Clever Beaches – Get ready to be

outsmarted.

22. Sand In The Vaseline – I’m sure

they’re having a great time at the

beach.

23. The Fighting Amish – Playing the old-

fashioned way.

24. Ball Bangers – Hitting balls a little too

hard.

25. Bros And Hoes – For a mixed team.

26. Public Sets Offenders – They’re not

allowed near certain places.

27. The Blair Hits Project – Getting

beaten by them is like a horror movie.

28. Ball Whisperers – They’ll get that ball

to go anywhere they want.

29. Setsy Time – After Borat’s

catchphrase.

30. Natural Disasters – It’s totally normal

for this team to lose.

31. Kinky Sets – The best kind of sets.

32. Men In Speedos – They make

everyone at the beach feel awkward.

33. Net Servers – For a techie crowd.

34. Touch And Go – Win some, lose some.

35. Caution! Low Roof! – About to leap

into space!

36. Wild Sets – These guys are passionate

about sets.

37. This Won’t Take Long – Beating their

rivals in seconds... or are they the ones

who get beaten?

38. The Joy Of Sets – Gotta love good

sets.

39. Set ‘Em Hussein – After Saddam

Hussein.

40. Spike Me Hard, Baby – It’s the only

way it should be done.

41. Setting Ducks – They have no idea

what they’re doing here.

42. Will Work For Sets – Nothing wrong

with that.

43. We Need Sets – We all do!

44. Hits Don’t Lie – After My Hips Don’t

Lie by Shakira.

45. Kiss My Ace – With pleasure.

46. Thongs And Dongs – Another perfect

name for a mixed team.

47. All Net – A team with no chance of

scoring.

48. The Blazing Sunburns – You’ll spot

this team a mile away.

49. Team Ibuprofen – They may be a little

sickly.

50. A Case Of The Hits – The only illness

that’s guaranteed to help you win.

51. Chicks With Digs – Why can’t chicks

have digs?

52. Trump’s Wall – Non–existent then?

53. Sonova Beach – Say it fast...

54. Sets With A Stranger – Players, 100%.

55. I’ve Seen Better Digging In A

Graveyard – Ouch!

56. Sand Castles – They might get a little

distracted.

57. We Showed Up – To what? To lose?

58. Chewblocka – After Chewbacca from

Star Wars.

59. Itsy Bitsy Spikers – Too cute to be

taken seriously.

60. Drunk, Stupid and Clumsy – And

honest.

61. Spiky Nips – For a girls’ team that’s got

that perfect spike.

62. Full Of Hits – They talk a lot of crap.

63. The Powerpuff Girls – Great for a girl

team made of three.

64. Setsy And We Know It – And so does

everyone else.

65. Unprotected Sets – Not advisable.

66. Big Swinging Ds And Ts – Another

name for a mixed team.

67. Go Sets Yourself – Just not on the

beach.

68. Johan Sebastian Block – Composing

a win!

69. Scared Hitless – Is what the other

team will be!

70. Death Volley – Wordplay on Death

Valley.

71. Hit And Miss – Haven’t quite got the

hang of this game yet have you guys?

72. 2 Legit 2 Hit – Well at least you have a

reason...

73. One Hit Wonders – Will score and it

will be amazing, but only once.

74. We Like Big Balls – Big balls are more

fun.

75. You’ve Been Served – Will be in court

right after this game.

76. We Dig 4-Play – Looking for another

team that also enjoys a bit of 4-play.

77. Vertically Challenged – For a team of

shorties.

78. Salad Tossers – Good at throwing

things around.

79. Sand Slingers – Why play fairly and

lose when you could play dirty and win?

80. Not In The Face! – These team will

definitely get hit hard in the face.

81. Setsy Ladies – All the guys on the

beach are looking at them.

82. Bumping Uglies – Not the most

handsome team in the world.

83. Interracial Sets – For a team made up

of people of different racial

backgrounds.

84. Here For The Exercise – Not the most

athletic team.

85. That’s What She Sets – Wordplay on

the phrase ‘that’s what she said’.

86. Smack Your Balls – Painful.

87. Butt Sets – Kinky.

88. If Pigs Could Fly – A team of fat guys

who can jump amazingly high for their

size.

89. Wild Wings – Wordplay on the song

Wild Thing by The Troggs.

90. Sets On The Beach – A dream come

true.

91. Sloppy Sets – They need a bit of

practice.

92. Just The Tip – They’re gentle.

93. Ain’t That A Beach – It certainly is.

94. Six Packs – Great stomachs or a pack

of six beers?

95. Court Jesters – More interested in

making the audience laugh than

winning.

96. Couch Potatoes – They really get this

much exercise.

97. Sets Pistols – After the band The Sex

Pistols.

98. We’re All HIV Positive – And proud.

99. Blue Balls – You guys all need to get to

a doctor immediately.

100. Red Hot Silly Peppers – Another

bunch of comedians.

Cool Volleyball Team Names

A cool team deserves a cool name, the following are cool volleyball team names you can call your team.

101. The Tidal Waves – Invading the entire beach.

102. SWAT Team – Swatting that ball out of the way.

103. Score More – Than the other team.

104. Mission Unblockable – No ball gets

past them.

105. Cobra Kai – After the martial arts team

in The Karate Kid.

106. Atomic Block – Blasting that ball away!

107. Shaken, Not Stirred – Just like 007.

108. We Always Get Up – When this team

gets knocked down, they’re quick to get

back on their feet.

109. Big Digs And Hot Passes – You know

what to expect.

110. Arm And Hammer – For a tough team.

111. In Your Face – Winning and damn proud.

112. Bump It Up – That ball will never touch the ground.

113. Net Domination – The other team will never even get it past the net.

114. Soaring At The Net – Where they play best.

115. Air Force One – After the US presidents private jet.

116. In Motion – They can’t stop moving.

117. On Your Knees – The other team will

be...

118. That Hurt? – It probably did if it came

from this team.

119. Spin Doctors – They always think

they’re winning, even when they’re not.

120. On Fire – Just unstoppable.

121. Spider Chicks – They can reach

anything.

122. Net Results – Scoring at the net.

123. Killer Serves – The other team will be

flabbergasted.

124. Sabretooth Spikers – Aggressive

spikes, to say the least.

125. Pure Energy – The other team won’t

know where you get it from.

126. Attack Pack – They play like animals.

127. Hanging Loose – The most relaxed

volleyball team you’ll ever meet.

128. Prime Time Players – A team that’s

playing in its prime.

129. Gung-Ho – Ready for just about

anything.

130. Block Or Bleed – The other team will

be too afraid to do anything.

131. Bump, Set, Dismember – After they

beat you, they’ll cut you up.

132. Hit Me – If you dare.

133. Lightning Strike – When they hit that

ball they light up the sky.

134. Planet Volleywood – So good they

should be famous.

135. It’s Gotta Be Da Shoes – Nope, they

just play amazingly.

136. Now Serving – So get ready to lose.

137. Bumping Maniacs – Addicted to

bumping.

138. Elite Volleyball – The absolute best.

139. Set To Kill – The other team.

140. Sonic Boom – You can hear them

hitting that ball from space.

141. I’d Hit That – You really should.

142. Death At The Net – There isn’t a worse

way to die.

143. The Wall – No balls get past them.

144. Volley Girls – Girls who own this game.

145. The Lost Boys – Unruly savages.

146. Extreme Volleyball – Volleyball isn’t

supposed to be a leisurely sport, it

should be hardcore.

147. EZ Pass – Making the other team look

like amateurs.

148. That’s Some Serve – You bet it is!

149. Sand People – After the fictional

characters in Star Wars.

150. Hit-men – Hired to assassinate the

other team.

151. See Ya – Wouldn’t wanna be ya!

152. Block You Like A Hurricane – After

the song “Rock You like a Hurricane” by

The Scorpions.

153. Game On – Yeah, winning is great, but

these guys just love playing.

154. Court Hogs – Loving the game so

much, they won’t let anyone else on the

court.

155. Volley Vipers – They’ve got a bite

that’ll kill.

156. High–Performance Volleyball – Don’t

even think about playing this team

unless you’re in the same league.

157. Air Traffic Control – Spectators can be

forgiven for thinking that ball was a

plane.

158. Speedy Spikers – Fast and very spiky.

159. Flight Fight – Known to hit balls in mid-

air.

160. Team World Class – Should really be

playing in the Olympics.

161. Net Ninjas – Assassinating that ball

whenever it gets to the net.

162. Net Assets – They’re owning the

game.

163. White Lightning – Striking out the

other team.

164. The Challengers – They make the

other team want to play better.

165. Volleyball Above All – It is a way of

life.

166. All Set At The Net – Can’t pass this

defense.

167. It’s A Hard Bump Life – It is.

168. The WildCats – The most vicious team

you’ll play against.

169. Vision Quest – Playing to reach a

higher power.

170. Monster Spikes – Those are some mean spikes

#volleyball

[askmyboys]

Levi Snider

I guess, trigger warnings would be death/torture/violence mentions???

| Name: Levi Myers Snider

| Nicknames: Lev or Sni are the only nicknames but these are more so titles some have called him “The Coyote” or a much simpler one “Dice”

| Gender: He/Him

| Age: 34

| Height: 6’3”

| Species/Race: Human

| Hair Color: Caramel Brown (his hair is like,, a slicked back Pompadour)

| Eye Color: Lava Gray (he’s got a scar going over his right eye but he seems to still be able to see out of it)

| Skin Color/Body Type: He’s very pale and he’s pretty average, a bit on the muscular side but nothing too wild

| Appearance: His main outfit is a white suit with a long sleeved black shirt underneath it, he also wears a dark red tie, he wears black pants to match and some black and white oxford shoes, he has a few rings he wears on his fingers, one is a simple silver skull ring, then he has a dice ring, and the main ring though is a golden locket ring (its heart shaped too) and you wanna know whats in there? ...A fucking picture of h i m s e l f. He also has dice earrings he wears as well, he doesn’t have razor sharp teeth BUT he does seem to have fangs! He doesn’t have claws though or any kinds of inhuman features, just a plain ol human man- He does have a LOT of scars lining all over his body, there is no prominent one outta all of em except maybe the one that stands out on his eye n such but other than that, he’s pretty beat up.

| Personality: What can be said about Levi? Well, lots actually, for the basic gist he’s an absolute bastard of a man, he’s narcissistic as all hell about himself and seems to ONLY care about himself (maybe that’s true? Who knows, you’ll have to find out) He’s snarky and sarcastic a lot of the times, and I won’t deny he’s borderline sadistic and cruel, I mean he DOES murder people after all, his favorite weapons seem to either be a baseball bat or a cane, but on the rare occasion he will use one of his knives, he loves the torture aspects as well if he gets the chance! He’s very flirty too like, even if you are his victim he might legit start flirting with you outta the blue before swinging something against your head, he’s a heartbreaker though- he doesn’t care about love or none of that, the only things he loves is himself, murder, torture, and makin money too! (a big time gambler) he just flirts to mess with people and that’s it, if you flirt back he might be surprised but I doubt it’d change the outcome.

Despite being a murderer and 100% a criminal, whenever he sees an animal abuser… He seems to go ballistic at them especially, he doesn’t even give them a chance before swinging his cane over their head n caving their skull in, he’d then take the animal- no matter how small it is and try and get them a home, if nobody wants then fine he’ll take the animal! He has a bigger place than all these dumbasses anyways! If I had to say the only thing he cares about aside from himself is animals, and that’s because he has his own pets back at home, he has four pet rats actually so he’s especially soft toward rats/mice, if you show him pictures of rats/mice that’ll easily get him distracted from talking about himself and how great he is and he’ll focus on them instead, talking about how rats are so fuckin cool! So cute and precious!

He also won’t,, necessarily kill a kid, like he’s still an asshole because if a kid bumps into him he’ll shove ‘em outta the way or if they're just in his way in general he’ll shove them away- If someone was abusing a kid? ...Well, he doesn’t much care about kids, he doesn’t really LIKE kids in fact-  BUT let’s just say he’ll pretend it was an accident when he throws something hard and heavy at the abuser like “Whoops, my fingers slipped” even if he were to hit them with his bat or cane he’d be like “Oops! Butterfingers~!” he’ll then lead the kid somewhere safe and leave them there, because he doesn’t wanna deal with t h a t anymore than need be.

| Side Facts: He’s nicknamed “Dice” for a reason, because he uses a literal dice (it can be any dice, he isnt picky) to determine how many hits he’ll give a victim, the nickname “The Coyote” just kinda comes out because he seems like a scavenger to most people, and he’s pretty damn vicious like one too tbh

Given how he’s dressed and (sure i know he just acts like it) but he genuinely DOES seem to be SOME sorta big shot around the city- He almost seems like he’s in some kinda Mafia, he seems like the Leader even but he mentions nothing about anyone else, no “family” nothing, he seems to act like he’s a one-man-band, a loner, whether he actually has a- well, he’d call them a Pack more than likely but even then it is currently unknown, and it’s even unknown if he would be the Leader, but he’s definitely a big shot- especially at the Casinos, people seem to treat him with a lot of respect and almost… Fear even?

Ofc he’s good at the ones themed up with dice because why wouldn’t he be, it’d be a bit silly if he weren’t good at games involving the very tool he’s used for so many people’s destructions! Aside from that, he seems to be good at Poker in general, Backgammon, Roulette, and Blackjack.

And even if he has an actual Mafia dude, he doesn’t seem to kill just because of business reasons, he seems to just kill for his own reasons- aka he loves the thrill of hunting someone down, he loves torturing his poor victims too I guess but chasing them down and then just catching them alone? That’s some euphoria right there babey! He doesn’t seem to give up so easily either, he’s VERY persistent when it comes to his victims, he’ll exhaust them and even himself before he’d let someone go so easily!

Finally he seems to hang around dark alleyways in the city mostly, but then sometimes you’ll find him w a y on the outskirts of the city, you’ll never find his place of residence- cause he DOES have one I mean the dude is fuckin r i c h, it ain’t nothing sUPER fancy, its honestly more so like a basic sorta home, if ya do find it, it does have some stuff lying around but it doesn’t look SUPER dirty, ofc on its own table is a large rat cage with four little rats just grooming themselves or playing or something, you’d also notice a fuckin scarred up Rottweiler bc honestly? That thing would probs tackle you down the moment you set foot in the d o o r. It won’t bite you or attack or anything not unless he gives a command, that Rottweiler’s name is Lucy by the way-

She’s honestly a sweetheart, super gentle and caring as can be ...if you aren’t trying to hurt Levi or herself or any of the other pets, she’s the protector here! There is also a Black cat that roams around here n there, its not technically his but he feeds em and lets them in when its cold out, and finally- he has two more dogs, one’s a brown and white shih tzu, the fur is pretty messy but its not matted- he would n e v e r… He brushes them as often as he can- honestly that little fucker would bite you before Lucy did, he’s a feral lil shit but still sweet and caring too, mostly toward Levi- and then a small Chinese Crested who you’d rarely see because he’s v e r y shy, and gets nervous around other people very easily.

The Black Cat he named Midnight bc that’s a classic, the shih tzu is named Rocco, the Chinese Crested is named Gizmo (sometimes Levi calls him Goober) and then the rats’ names are

The Grey one is named Remy and is super friendly, sweet, and p active- a lot more active than the others, The Black one is named Squeak (the reason being is he is a LOT more dramatic than the other ones, you can gently press a finger against him and he squeaks) and he is more reserved and sticks to himself mostly, The White one is named Roddy he’s a bit reserved but nothing too much, he mostly prefers to interact with Levi but will sometimes interact with the other rats he can be sweet n such too though, and finally…

This is the first Rat he ever really rescued actually! He’s a light brown colored one and he’s definitely getting up there in age a lil bit but for a short name he’s called Cheddar but his long name is Judge Cheddar of the Council of Cheese, the only time he judges anything? Is when he doesn’t get a tiny bit of cheddar cheese (Levi usually gives it as a treat but not,, every time, he does keep it in moderation) but that’s it for his pets, try to hurt them or do anything bad to em he WILL fucking slaughter you if you don’t die during the longer much more extended version of the torture he’s going to give ya.

[potions-and-potters]

Hey you should totally ,,, *sticks leg out* ,,, tell me ur favourite snarry fics because i've run out of good fics and it made me sad

I most definitely ,,, *sticks leg out* ,,, will tell you my favorite snarry fics but I make no promises that they’ll be anything you’ve not read before. Also, because I’m very opinionated, imma give a brief little blurb of my opinion for each.

My Favorite Snarry Fics (in no particular order):

Because I Love You, You Idiot by TheMightyFlynn

I’m rereading this at the moment, actually. It’s so so so so wonderful. It’s a creature fic with Sev as a Veela. It’s arguably a little OOC, but it’s so full of sexy smut and warm fluff that I just can’t stop rereading it. I highly recommend it. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve reread this thing. I love this Severus because he’s still him, but it’s like an indulgent him, if that makes sense. My favorite line in any fic ever comes from this fic. 

With Eyes Wide Open by suitesamba

This one kind of frustrates me at times because I wish it was a bit more… emotional? It’s a forced marriage between Harry and Sev, and I’d say it’s a little more realistic than some in regards to their relationship. I just sometimes find myself so desperate for them to get super emotional at the end, but this is not an extreme fluff fic. I LOVE the subtleness of how Severus is shown to be so attracted to Harry (all I’m going to say is rutting. you’ll know when you get there). It’s a lovely fic. Also it has touches of jealousy in it which are delicious.

The Courtship of Harry Potter by Diana Williams

I’d recommend this for anyone starting out in courtship fics. It’s rather tame as courtship fics go. Not smutty (though, if I remember correctly, there is some sexy times). It’s a wonderful and easy read. Severus is great, and it’s quite funny.

Nature’s Changing Course by Durrant

I’m not too much of a fan of de-aged fics, but this one is so sweet. Sev (who is de-aged) and Harry are in their last year of school post the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry is so sweet and innocent. Sev is unsure and adorable. It’s also got amazing teenage lust that leaves you gushing kudos for the author for writing such hotness that somehow is the utmost of cuteness.

Changed and its sequel Claimed by Sablesilverrain

Omegaverse. These are sort of my guilty pleasure. I’ve not actually read these in a good while. Harry is an Omega and Sev is an Alpha and it is hot hot hot. Like I said, my guilty pleasure.

Secrets of Midnight by Lizzy0305

Definitely OOC. Severus just… doesn’t act like that. But I love it so shhhh. It’s hot and fluffy and SO AMAZING OH MY GOD IT’S LIKE TWO FICS IN ONE. I see it as broken into two parts. The first part is student-teacher relationship. It’s hot and fluffy and makes my heart happy. The second part is post Battle of Hogwarts. It’s delicious and wonderful and my heart soars. Some of the lines in this are just so funny I can’t even. I don’t want to spoil it for you but AHHHHHH. Read it. You gotta. 

The Unexpected Omega by Nagabelle

Omegaverse (obviously). It’s an au in more ways than having alphas and omegas in it. The smut will steam up your windows, so watch out. The sequel The Unexpected Heir is still incomplete and it kills me because I need to know how it ends. It’s another guilty pleasure fics. I love a good omega fic.

A Convenient Marriage by Diana Williams 

OH MY GOD THE JEALOUSY IS MOUTHWATERING. I love, love, love, love the latter half of this fic. Oh it’s so delicious and wonderful. Severus is so *swoons* with his jealousy and his protectiveness. Ugh. If you’re looking for a realistic forced marriage thing but with fluff and sexiness, I recommend this wonderful fic.

Of The Passion of Potters by Brego_Mellon_Nin

Sometimes you just gotta read a smutty fic. This is deliciously smutty right from the start. It’s quick paced, and an easy read. Oh, and there’s this scene which involves Flitwick that I just love to bits. Oh, Severus. It’s so so funny.

A True Match by LilRinnieB

Fluffy happiness with some lovely smut thrown in. It’s another indulgent fic of mine that I love to reread when I want a confident and forward Severus that knows exactly what (read: who) he wants and an oblivious Harry.

Between the Lines and anything else by Dementordelta

Harry gets to know the Half Blood Prince by communicating how he did with Tom in that diary. Harry is so cheeky and I love reading Sev slowly losing his self control around him. Also, everything Dementordelta writes is just wonderful????? 

Addiction by Lizzy0305

Vampire!Severus is lip licking good. Oh this story has everything I love. Jealousy, mates, smut, teasing, possessiveness, humour, fluff, and Severus losing his tightly held control because Harry James Potter is a sexy little fucker whom he loves very much.

Jealousy Is the Best Policy by Lomonaaeren

I honestly read this fic over and over again just to get to the end of it where Sev is an absolute savage and Draco is told to fuck off in the most wonderful (and luckily for Harry, pleasurable) of ways.

Arbitrium Liberum by Lizzy0305

Sev’s ego and smugness bite him in the bum and it is GLORIOUS. Professor Potter is having serious issues with this free spirited Severus. Honestly, what I wouldn’t give for a day with Sev under the affects of this potion. 

Playing With Matches by Emynn

Harry, Harry, Harry. My poor little oblivious Chosen One. When will you ever learn. Severus needs to also get it through that cute little skull of his that Harry doesn’t take subtle hints. Smash him against the wall and kiss him dizzy, Sev. This match making fic is so entertaining. Sometimes I like to hurt myself with reading pining, and this has got glorious pining in it.

Sudden Urges by lilyseyes

Sev has no self control and it’s just great. SHAG HIM SEV. SHAG HIM SILLY.

Parable of the Talents by Lomonaaeren

Another guilty pleasure fic. Jealousy and some poor misguided soul thinking he can get Sev who is clearly Harry’s and we all know it. Sev has no mercy and no chill. Oh, Severus. Oh, Harry. 

Going Green by Emynn

The ending always has me like !!!!!! Severus you idiot. You of all people should know the importance of word choice. Also: Miscommunication can FUCK OFF. 

Tempus by Suziesu74

Guilty pleasure. Student-Teacher fic with Harry back in the past and Sev is the student. It’s got lots of smut, and I’ll tell you now can be a bit… problematic if I’m honest. Sev is underage (I’m pretty sure) and Harry does some questionable things. But it’s just one of those fic’s I keep coming back to. Also, I love the plot. It’s a unique execution on time travel fics. 

One of a Kind by Emynn

OH MY GOSSHHHHHHH. It’s so short but it’s so sweet. I wish there was so much more. The jealousy in it kills me. I LOVE how protective of Harry Severus is. I don’t want to ruin it, but Sev’s reaction during the dueling? Oh. I can’t. He’s so wonderfully protective. I love him so. I just love the premise. I want more.

The Boy Who Lived a Bit and its sequel Care of Magical Creatures by Barbarella

My literal favorite fics of all time. This is SO in character. I think that’s why I love it so much. It’s got heart stopping smut and fluff. The plot if AMAZING. They are completely themselves. It’s so wonderful because it’s everything you want in a fic and with our beloved otp of snarry, and yet it is so realistic that you can totally see this being real. I love it. SO SO SO SO SO much. I mean this is my favorite of all time. In any fandom. These two fics are just THE BEST. 

The Fire Call Series by Flic

Made up of several shorter fics as chronological order sequels. It’s a great mix of sexy and fluffy. You know how sometimes you find a wonderful series but the last fic in it kind of makes it end ‘meh’ like? Skinny Latte, which is the last fic, is a super sweet ending to the series. Which I was so happy about. 

Sunrises and its sequel Happily Ever After by Julia the Younger 

Oooooooh. The angst!!!!!! Let me tell you how much I do not like super angsty fics. hella. I hella don’t like them. But the angst in this is worth it. It’s a more realistic fic, and unlike Barbarella’s two realistic fics, it takes the realism in a not-as-blissful-and-fluffy-but-still-quite-happy path. Also the jealousy provides a grand moment in Sunrises and Happily Ever After’s ending is so sweet.

So as you can tell, I really like jealous!Severus and Possessive!Severus and Protective!Severus. I think it’s because I feel like Sev is a jealous, possessive, and protective man. So, it sort of makes sense to me that he’d be like that and to see him put those to Harry out of love and lust makes me feel all warm and tingly inside. I also love mates and bonds. I think it’s so romantic when they’re fated

Anyway, these are my favorites. I hope you like them! Also, you can always give my fics a read :D I’ll be writing more soon. My inbox is always open to prompts (I’m working on fulfilling some right now actually), so feel free to send me them!

Happy reading!