#while I’m at it fuck endgame

[plistommy]

If Jonathan makes one comment! ONE! COMMENT! about my boy Steve in s5 like he did in s4 I’m gonna teleport myself into that tv show and beat this ass

[touyahoedoroki]

if touya dies I’m actually going to kill myself

[nikkiruncks]

How you're lookin' at me, yeah, I know what that means

And I'm obsessed

Niknate (Nate's pov) - Bed Chem (Sabrina Carpenter)

-> requested by @torturedpoetskywalker

[a-concert-just-for-me]

I’m excited, I think Potionless is going to become my new most popular fic within the next chapter or two

[theshadowrealmitself]

I hate the fact that Valerie and Vlad team up in canon, but I do like the idea of them teaming up in a very specific au where after Phantom beats Vlad out for being mayor (but can’t actually become mayor because he’s not an adult) the popular kids (mostly Dash and Paulina) make him a candidate for school president (since they discovered he’s around their age)

Valerie obviously hates this and does not want Phantom to have any part of her school so she runs against him

Vlad, still mad that he technically lost against Phantom, makes a deal with Valerie to help her win (obvious she’s wary of this creepy old dude but she can’t stand the idea of Phantom becoming such an active member of the school, the whole thing makes her skin crawl, so she begrudgingly accepts his help)

Despite everything tho, Phanton still obviously wins, just to once again not actually win (not enrolled in Casper High that they know of so he can’t be school president), Mr. Lancer is the one to deliver that news and the students angrily chase off campus

Valerie and Vlad blame each other and get into a heated argument, Vlad’s image takes another hit, and so does Valerie’s as she ran against Phantom instead of just letting him win, and now she has to actually be school president?? whoops she did not think this through

[habken]

/busts down your door WHAT ALL HAVE I MISSED IN BNHA?????? I just saw your comic and I’m so confused

okay so bakugou got got right we all know that, shigaraki fucked up his arm, bakugou said “oh I know what I gotta do” and did a good attack on shiggy but his heart exploded </3 and he died but edgshot said “nuh uh” and used his body to stitch it back up and then deku was late to the party and didnt even have time to be bummed out about bakugou’s corpse cause he has to fight shigaraki and then somewhere else afo does stuff blah blah blah and snatches hawks quirk (rip) and then takes off to join shigafo in that fight but all might says “not on my watch” and intercepts him and they duke it out and all this time afo is getting younger cause he used something made from eris quirk so he could keep duking it out with endeavour and that gang so he’s like a teen fighting poor old man all might who used all his savings to by himself a mech suit but it’s not going so hot for him and stain shows up to take on afo with all might but afo still wins and is about to finish off all might when bakugou starts up his own heart with his explosive sweat and makes really fruity eye contact with deku and with the power of friendship deku pauses his fight with shigafo to launch bakugou towards afo and bakugou saved all might and goes “dawg who’s this kid I’m about to beat the shit out of” and all might says “that’s afo” and bakugou goes to beat the shit out of toddler afo and succeeds because afo finally benjamin buttons out of existence but the whole balugou’s arm looks like seconds away from falling off, then after a long day of fighting bakugou takes a well deserved nap and we go back to deku v shigafo and it’s not going well for deku he’s trying to break through to tenko but he’s not getting anywear and then shigaraki steals danger sense and it gets even worse but second user goes “wait ! What if we attack him with psychic damage, give shigaraki ofa and we’ll beat the shit out of his mind so you can do your thing” amd deku is very sad but agrees and then after he goes punches all of the ofa vestiges into shigaraki they end up in his mind palace and little deku holds little tenko hand even though it’s disintegrating his own and this is where we think “wow he truly won with the power of friendship” but no !! He did not ! The afo vestige that loves in shigaraki’s mind comes out and evil laughs and says “you idiot I’ve been behind all the awful missrable things that happened your whole life ! I convinced your dad to have you, I took your og quirk away and gave you half of an ability that should have let you destroy and recreate but only gave you the destructive part because I am evil and you are too because I made you that way” and shigaraki goes :0 ?!1?;& and dissolves because afo cast vicious mockery and got a nat20 dealing double damage. We then exit shigaraki’s mind and deku has no arms !! But behind him avengers endgame style, heroes amass and aizawa steps out of the portal and goes “damn sorry midoriya if only I’d come like a minute earlier now you’re armless </3” but ! He tosses deku eri’s horn because eri havked it off herself to give to deku to save him and deku’s arms start growing back :D at the same time, afo has fully taken over shigaraki’s body and i like “haha tomura is no more it’s just me now” but he’s super bummed out because his vestige brother is gone as well and he’s like “damn what even is the reason for doing anything anymore :// I guess I’ll still kick ur ass or whatever but I’m kinda apathetic about taking over the world now” but while deku gave away ofa he still has some of the embers and with the power of froendship once more, he dodges afo’s attacks and punches him super duper hard, and we see shigaraki again :D and yoichi :00 and yoichi says sone shit to afo and shigaraki turns to deku like “this was truly our hero academia :) tell spinner I love him” and deku says “sure dawg” and they fist bump and stuff

tldr: deku gave up ofa to save shigaraki and bakugou’s arm is super super messed up which is very fun

[steddielations]

Steve doesn’t know if he should say something.

He knows, he obviously knows that Eddie’s been taking his clothes.

It’s like a routine at this point. They’ll be hanging around Steve’s pool or up on his roof getting high, Eddie will say he’s cold no matter what he’s wearing or how warm it is. And if Steve’s not wearing a jacket to give him, Eddie will go ruffle through Steve’s closet and at the end of the night, he always “forgets” to give it back before he leaves.

Steve’s not sure if Eddie’s just doing it to fuck with him or if it’s an actual reason. Like Eddie doesn’t have clothes, or his washer is broken and he can’t afford to fix it, or he doesn’t have money for the laundromat or something serious that Steve does not want to be insensitive about, but he’s seriously running out of clothes.

For fuck’s sake, he’s wearing his Christmas sweater from two years ago, he literally had nothing else in his closet.

He’s starting to think that’s the endgame here, that Eddie’s just waiting until Steve shows up bare ass naked so he can laugh in his face.

Finally, Steve decides to get some answers while they’re hanging out in Eddie’s room, wearing his too-small Christmas sweater that Eddie’s already teased him about.

“Eddie, is… is everything like… okay?”

Steve asks carefully, picking at threads on Eddie’s comforter.

Eddie’s fingers pause on his guitar strings, joint hanging out of his mouth as he gives Steve a curious look.

“You mean just in general or…? Because I’m far from what someone like yourself would consider “okay” but that’s normal for me.”

Steve looks around the room, noting the usual piles of Eddie’s clothes, recognizing a lot of his own. Doesn’t seem like Eddie’s in any shortage of things to wear, and his laundry always piles up. Nothing looks out of sorts, maybe he just hasn’t felt like doing it lately, and Steve doesn’t want to be insensitive if that’s the case either.

He minds his words, “I mean like, are things okay for you? Like around the house, your refrigerator’s working, your washing machine isn’t broken or anything?”

Eddie smirks, “What if they’re not? Is Handyman Harrington gonna put on his little toolbelt and fix it all up?” He always makes light when he senses something uneasy coming.

“Real funny. I’m serious, Eddie. Is there a reason you haven’t done laundry? If you’re not feeling up to it or something, I don’t mind helping.”

Eddie sobers a little then, putting his guitar down and dabbing out the joint in the ashtray on the bedside table, “Yes my washing machine works. Yes I can do my laundry, I’m just lazy as shit and letting it pile up. What’s this about, Steve?”

“Because you—” Steve runs his fingers through his hair, pulling it, flustered, “I’m literally wearing my Christmas sweater in goddamn October because you have all my clothes, dude.”

Something registers in Eddie’s gaze but he quickly deflects, laughing, “Oh is that why? I thought you just pulled out that little number ‘cause it's skin tight, you minx.”

“Is everything okay?” Steve doesn’t let him change the subject, offering gently, “If you need to borrow some money or use my washer or something then—”

“No, no that’s not it,” Eddie shakes his head, smile gone, seeming kind of nervous now, “I don’t need anything like that, Stevie.”

Steve sighs, at a loss, “So why do you keep taking my clothes, Eddie?”

Eddie lets out a small laugh, almost sad, a little bitter, “You’re really gonna make me say it, Harrington?”

“Say what? You can tell me,” Steve scoots closer to him on the bed. He tries to meet Eddie’s gaze, to make sure he knows he can tell Steve. Fuck, they saved the world together, they almost died together, he knows he can tell Steve anything.

So it sort of hurts when Eddie won’t look at him, or answer him, but Steve tries to be understanding.

“Okay,” he sighs, resigned, “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me, but I’m just gonna need some of them back if that’s alright—”

“God, you really are something,” Eddie gives that same bitter laugh. It hurts, mostly because Steve knows there’s something deeper here, something’s hurting Eddie and he won’t tell Steve. “Of course, it’s alright. They’re your clothes, it’s not even… Fuck, it’s not even about the clothes.”

“So you were just fucking with me then?”

Eddie shakes his head, hands tugging his own hair, the way he does when he’s anxious, “No, it wasn’t a prank Steve.”

“You’re trying out a different style?”

“Definitely not.”

“Dustin dared you, or something?”

“No, it’s not like that—”

“So then why did you do it? I don’t—”

“Shit, Steve, I’m— I took them because they smell like you, alright?”

Steve’s mouth opens and closes several times.

“I… You… What?”

Eddie won’t look him in the eyes, sighing sharply down at the bed, “Don’t make me say it again.”

Steve blinks, asking slowly, “You… like the way that I smell?”

Eddie finally looks up at him, a heavy cloud behind his dark eyes as he admits, “Yes I do and not in a friend sort of way. In a way that I’m literally stealing all your clothes like a fucking weirdo just to feel like I’m hugging you at night, or something— I dunno, Steve. It helps with the nightmares.”

Steve’s heart is sort of doing flips in his chest.

That’s another reason why he waited so long to say anything. He doesn’t mind Eddie taking some of his clothes. He likes the idea of Eddie wearing everything that’s his, and not just as a friend helping out another friend. In a deeper way, in a way that he’s been suppressing because he didn’t want to ruin things with Eddie.

“That could still be a friend thing,” Steve says carefully, hoping that Eddie disagrees.

“It’s not a friend thing,” Eddie shakes his head, starting to move away from the bed and Steve’s stomach drops, “I don’t have ‘friend’ feelings for you, Steve. So I get it if you wanna walk out that door and never talk to me again. I’ll give all your clothes back, I shouldn’t have—”

Steve’s hand shoots out to Eddie’s knee, stopping him, rushing to say, “I don’t like you as a friend either.”

Eddie quickly looks up, expression careful, confused, “You— huh?”

“Fuck, that came out wrong, I just…” Steve sighs, bolsters himself up and rubs Eddie’s knee softly but with intent as he asks, “Eddie, can I hug you in a not-friend way?”

Eddie’s eyes flick up and down between Steve’s hand and his face about ten different times, gaze utterly wild, “Are you saying you have feelings for—”

“Just get over here and find out.”

Eddie’s grin mirrors Steve’s as he crawls across the bed. He’s tentative still, careful, so Steve just goes in, wrapping his arms around Eddie and pulling him against his chest. Eddie goes willingly, sliding his palms across Steve’s stupid Christmas sweater, his nose at Steve’s collar, breathing in deep.

Steve chuckles as Eddie burrows in, mumbling something about how good he smells.

Steve loves the way Eddie smells too, nuzzling into his hair, breathing in a hint of shampoo, smoke and something earthy, something Eddie. Steve loves the way he feels too, wants him impossibly closer.

“So why did you need so many of my clothes?” He asks softly after a while.

Eddie doesn’t lift his head when he replies, “Works best when the Steve smell is still strong. Had to get more when I sniffed it all up.”

Steve rolls his eyes, something like fondness tugging at his lips.

“You said it helps with nightmares?”

Eddie nods against him, admitting quietly, “On nights when my uncle works, it gets kinda creepy being alone here. Just having something that smells like you makes it feel like— I dunno, like you’re here with me. It’s weird.”

“It’s not. I wish I would’ve thought of that when my nightmares were bad,” instead of just not sleeping, or calling Robin all hours of the night. “Your uncle works tonight, right?”

“Yeah, he… yeah.”

Steve feels like he should be more nervous than he is, but Eddie hasn’t let up since the second Steve pulled him in, so he feels like he’s on the right track here.

“What if I stayed over? I have a feeling you’ll like hugging my sweater even more when I’m inside it.”

That makes Eddie burrow further into his neck, pressing a smile there.

“Already trying to get into my bed, Harrington? Should wait until at least the third hug for that,” playfully, Steve gives his side a little pinch, both of them chuckling, “Yeah, I’d like it if you stayed.”

Satisfied with that answer, Steve takes a risk, carefully wraps his hand around the back of Eddie’s legs, tugging a little to pull Eddie into his lap. Thankfully, Eddie wants it too. He sits atop Steve’s thighs and just melts into him, both of them sighing against each other.

Steve rubs broad circles across Eddie’s back, soothing the fabric of his yellow sweater that seems to be Eddie’s favorite to steal. He smiles into Eddie’s hair, feeling so warm and buzzing pleasantly all over.

It could’ve been hours gone by, Steve basking in Eddie’s body heat, in the weight of him, condensation forming against his neck where Eddie’s breathing him in. He pulls back a little, studies the blissed out look on Eddie’s face.

He blinks slowly at Steve, “Hey.”

Steve shakes his head, chuckling softly, “Hey, dummy.”

“Dummy?” Eddie parrots, grinning.

“Yeah. You’d rather steal my entire wardrobe than just give me a hug?” Steve squeezes him a little, “What if you wanted to kiss me, hm? Would you steal my chapstick?”

He lets his eyes linger on Eddie’s lips, hoping he gets the hint, takes the subtle offer.

Eddie’s finger toys with his collar, brushing the bone there as he murmurs back, “If you’d just kiss me I wouldn’t have to steal your chapstick to know how you taste.”

Steve tips his head back with a soft laugh before cupping Eddie’s face, “God, c’mere, you idiot,” then leans in and presses their smiling lips together.

It’s sweet at first, just gently pecking each other. Then the kisses last longer, grow deeper, tasting each other. Steve’s mouth falls open in a sigh, letting Eddie lick inside, sucking lightly on his lip.

Kissing Eddie is everything, a deep warmth simmering in Steve’s bones that he can’t get enough of. He wants it all over him, wants to clothe himself in it, burrow inside Eddie and never come out.

He leans back against the pillows, taking Eddie with him in his lap. The movement makes them rub together in a way that has Steve humming against Eddie’s lips, gripping his hips as a new kind of pleasure lights inside him.

Eddie pulls back then, laughing breathlessly.

“Okay,” he nuzzles their noses together, grinning as he mumbles, “We gotta relax or I’m gonna have to steal another pair of your underwear too.”

Steve playfully rolls his eyes as he moves his hands elsewhere, wrapping them around Eddie’s back.

Then, a beat later, it clicks and his brows furrow.

“Wait, what do you mean another pair, Munson?”

Eddie laughs and quickly dives back in for another kiss, silencing any more questions from Steve.

Ao3 Link

[royalsweetteaa]

sadbucksblog asked: Ok here’s a thought that’s been running through my head. 1940s steve forcing himself on shy!innocent!reader and forcing her to marry him. Later when reader found out that he ‘died’ (during the plane crash), she was secretly glad. But surprise surprise Endgame steve came back to return the infinity stones n decides to stay with his widow for good.In my head, endgame steve is meaner & more jaded 😈

Oh, definitely!! Endgame Steve gives the most dom vibes out of all his previous versions. If reader thought Steve was bad in the 1940s, she has another thing coming when he returns. His stay in the modern age has corrupted him more and made him kinkier. Like imagine the things he would do against 40s reader now that he knows how to pleasure a woman, because I know for sure they didn’t care about that stuff in the 40s.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

WARNING - Following contains: non-con, explicit smut, forced marriage, misogyny, 40s gender roles, dom/sub dynamic, dom!Steve, unbalanced power dynamic, mentions of somnophilia, slight bondage, dumbification, loss of virginity.

Title: His return

I imagine with this scenario, Steve liked Y/N a lot before he received the serum. You were so sweet and actually nice to him unlike the rest of the girls, but whenever he asked you on a date, you would reject him, saying you only saw him as a good friend.

And so after he got his super soldier strength, he expected you to like him back, because all women love strong and masculine men who can protect and provide for them (at least that’s how the gender norms were back in the 1940s). So imagine to his surprise when you kindly reject him even then after he has become a living female fantasy.

He literally cannot contain his fury and forces himself on you the same day, ignoring your pleas when you beg him to stop because you wanted to save yourself for marriage and give your virginity to someone you love.

“Don’t worry, my love. It’s not a sin if we end up getting married. You will take me as your husband or I’m going to tell everyone how much of a whore you are for spreading your legs so easily for me.” Steve threatened.

You were so scared, and knowing you had little authority in this situation, you did as he said. You knew no one would side with you if you were to protest against the new hero of the country; Captain America.

A month later, the two of you married and became husband and wife. Steve made you into his little house wife, and for each mission he came home from, he would fuck you for hours until you passed out. You were so clueless of the things Steve did to you sometimes, like whenever he would thrust inside of you in a specific angle causing you to feel an arising sensation from your abdomen. You didn’t know what it was, but it felt good no matter how shameful you were of it.

Whenever you accidentally dropped something, like a plate of food or when you burned dinner in the oven because you forgot the time, Steve would punish you by harsh spanking, telling you how bad of a wife you are for messing up your husband’s food. You would cry and apologize profusely until he stopped and left you with a sore butt.

He would also take you when you were fast asleep. You were a light sleeper, and only would you wake up when he jackhammered into you, causing a burning feeling around your sore pussy. Steve was huge due to his bodily enhancement, and it took a while for you to get used to his size. He would hardly talk when he fucked you as his only mission was to cum for relief. Steve was a busy man after all, with the war still ongoing. The weeks he was gone were the most peaceful times of your life ever since Steve took claim of you.

One fateful day, a military personnel visited you at your house and gave you the unfortunate news of the Captain’s loss. You shedded tears, but not because of Steve’s death. It was rather because the nightmare of a life was finally over. You felt relieved knowing Steve could never put his hands on you ever again.

2 years pass by, and you have all forgotten about Steve Rogers. You would occasionally see his face on posters and articles, and while it brought back some of the trauma, you always reminded yourself that he was gone for good.

At least, you thought he was.

It was a day like any other in your small little suburban house that you moved to after selling Steve’s house, and you suddenly heard the doorbell ring to your front door. You shouted ‘coming!’ to whoever was waiting outside, and turned off the temperature of your oven where there were freshly baked cinnamon rolls waiting for you later.

You open the door, and it’s like your whole world shatters before your eyes. There he was, your unmistakably still alive husband standing there. He looked more older, and it was only 2 years ago he was announced dead.

“Hello, my love. Have you missed me?” He asked darkly. You shrieked and tried to escape through the back door, but it was too late. Steve ran after you and grabbed you around your waist and held you down on the floor, preventing you from struggling away.

“That is no way to greet your husband after thinking he was dead for such a long time. I expected better from you, my wife. Maybe you have forgotten who you belong to and I need to give your dumb little brain a reminder.” He said, and carried you upstairs to your bedroom.

He threw you onto the bed like a rag doll and started to tie your wrists with velvet ropes he had brought with him to the headboard. This was new to you from all your previous experiences of having sex with Steve, and it scared you. “S-Steve, what is this?..what are you-!”

“I’m going to fuck you so hard and make you wish you never pulled that little escape stunt earlier. Silly woman, thinking you stand a chance against me. You’re mine, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure your dumb head understands that.”

He ripped your clothes off harshly, and he unbuttoned his trousers to free his cock from the restraints. You expected him to penetrate you like he always did before. That was the only type of sex you two were familiar with. But this ‘new’ version of Steve had different plans.

Your eyes widened when his face lowered at your pussy, causing you to feel distressed. “W-Wait, don’t do that!…I-It probably smells, I don’t want you to get too close to it!”

“Oh, Y/N, my sweet wife. You’re so clueless. What I did and did not do before I disappeared was when I was a boy. But I’m a man now, and I’m going to teach you so many things of how we can pleasure each other.”

His tongue stuck out of his mouth and he licked a stripe of your cunt, causing you to cry out a moan. You have never felt anything like this before. It almost felt unreal. It only got worse when his tongue glided between your pussy lips, gathering all your juices for him to savour.

“You taste delicious, my love. There isn’t a thing that’s more tastier than your sweet pussy…” he mumbled into your sensitive skin.

Steve never talked like this during sex, and somehow you preferred him not to talk because it made it easier to not enjoy it. This Steve however was making it harder to hate it with each new thing he did, and it made you feel horrible about yourself.

Suddenly, Steve used what felt like his thumb to rub at a particular spot. It caused your whole body to jolt at once like you were electrocuted, and you felt an overwhelming heat spread across your whole body.

“Do you know what this little pearl is, doll? It’s called a clitoris. It’s your most sensitive part of your pussy, and it will only be recognized as what engorges your wetness and surrounds your vagina in 2009 - about 70 years from now on. It also has about 8,000 nerve endings, which is why you become so sensitive when I touch it. Isn’t that fascinating, my love?”

You didn’t pick up a word of what he was rambling about because you were too out of it from his circling motion of rubbing your pearly nub. You couldn’t stop moaning and panting. Again came that familiar feeling of a rising high. Before you knew it, the feeling hit you like a wave and you felt your hole quivering.

“Aaaww, you just came. How cute….” He cooed, with a victorious grin. “Now, let’s get to the main course of this session. Haven’t been in this pussy for a loooong time. And I’m sure you’ve been a good girl not having anyone else inside you, right?”

You didn’t respond to that question, still pretty out of what had taken place moments earlier.

He slapped your cheek lightly but harsh enough to take you out from your daze. “Answer me, whore.”

“N-No! I haven’t, Steve! No one has been inside of me since you disappeared! I promise!” You answered with frantic.

He smiled again. “Good.”

He aimed his cock at your hole and shoved himself in with little care. He groaned loudly, sounding so content with the current feeling. “Oh, I’ve missed her…missed your pussy so much…I’ve missed you..” he said followed with a grunt. “I’m so glad I’m back. Back together with you.”

For the rest of the evening, he would torture you with new tricks of his that opened a new world of sex for you. By the end of the night, Steve had you wrapped in his strong arms, whispering the most obscene things and promises in your ear. Most of them were connected to one promise that made you dread for the future.

A promise of never leaving you ever again.

Note from author: this turned out a lot longer than I originally planned but I really enjoyed the concept and couldn’t help myself. I’m a hoe for endgame AND 40s Steve.🧍Anyways, thank you @sadbucksblog for sharing your idea! <3 Hope you enjoy it!

(This has been reposted here as I have deleted my old account!)

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

10 — I'D KISS YOU AS THE LIGHTS WENT OUT

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. read on wattpad. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

[I HIGHLY RECOMMEND LISTEN TO DANCING WITH OUR HANDS TIED BY TAYLOR SWIFT FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR THE BEST EXPERIENCE!]

The wraps, as promised, taste heavenly.

“Fuck,” you moan around a mouthful, covering your face’s lower half with your hand. As you chew around the food, then swallow, you move your palm to beam at Gaz, whose chin rests on his fist, split between watching you eat and looking through a notebook.

“Glad I can add you to my list of customers, Sweetheart,” he smiles, skimming through his book, the lamp standing in the corner of the room your only source of light. It’s well past midnight, now, curtains drawn and the lights of the hallway turned off.

“Seriously,” you use a napkin to wipe at the corners of your mouth, “That was like. Orgasmic.”

He huffs a laugh, dropping his notebook on his bed, arms outstretched behind him as he leans back against them, legs spread. You sit at his small desk, the wooden chair uncomfortable underneath you, but durable.

“Your shoulder feeling alright?” He asks, lazily looking over your form, dark features soft in the dim light. He looks like sin incarnate, and you feel as helpless as a moth to a flame.

Rotating your shoulder a bit, you shrug. “Hardly feel a thing. Get used to the pain, after a while.”

He hums, before moving to stand, heading to his wardrobe and looking through it. Having changed out of his uniform, he now adorns a faded green shirt and deep grey sweats, not unlike your own. 

“Looking for Narnia?” You taunt, making sure that the desk is free of crumbs as you stand, moving over to stand behind him. “Think pushing you in could help?”

Moving back, you regret your words as you see the instrument in his hands.

“You…” You swallow. “You play guitar?” Looking to him, entranced by the tendons in his hands, the intricate wood of the acoustic in his gentle grip. The pick hanging from the chain around his neck makes sense, now.

If his cheeky grin is breathtaking in the light of day, it’s deathly stunning in the darkness of night.

“Yeah. I play guitar,” he mocks, giving back what you gave. With a jerk of his head, he encourages you to sit beside him on his bed, which you do quickly.

“Playing and being good at are very different things,” you retort, but you find the usual energy in your words is lacking. You don’t entirely believe them, not with the way you’re watching his hands, the way he so carefully holds the instrument. The way he had so carefully held you.

Positioning the guitar to be played, he leans his head back, looking to the roof with a soft hum, contemplating. Folding your legs beneath yourself, you watch him with lidded eyes as he starts to slowly strum unmatched notes. Gathering a feel for his rhythm, the weight of the guitar in his hands, the tempo playing in his head.

“Don’t make fun of me,” he warns, shooting you a knowing look as he starts to hum along to a broken tune. “I’m not known for my singing.”

Your chuckle is a light, airy thing. “If I know the song, maybe I’ll join in,” you shrug, body loose where you sit.

The lighting, the smell of boy in his room, that masculine scent you can’t quite place, and the heat of his body, it’s all a concoction for comfort. You feel oddly safe, protected, like you belong, maybe, if such a thing is possible for someone like you.

Clearing his throat, Gaz gets comfortable, starting to build a rhythm where he strums his calloused fingers against the strings, his other hand moving around the neck with practised ease.

I loved you in secret

First sight, we loved without reason

Oh, twenty-five years old

Oh, how were you to know?

You feel trapped, almost, fully encompassed by the beauty of his skill, the beauty of his voice – the beauty of him. His hair looks suddenly too pullable, like it exists purely for you to grip onto and hold against your aching body.

When was the last time you’d done anything close to romantic? Sexual? 

Being with Graves was like using your own hand. Maybe worse, on a bad day, and it had rarely been a pleasurable experience.

Right here, with Gaz softly playing the guitar, dim light haloed around him, voice velvet against burning hot coal, feels closer to freedom than sex with your Commander ever had.

An angel.

Kyle Garrick looks like an angel.

All smooth skin and dimples, light freckles and saccharine smiles. The light smell of citrus and cleanliness, honey and mildew. With the lamp where it is, it colours the tips of his curls, highlights the depth of his face, the chocolate of his stunning eyes.

Like a punch to your gut, you realise the effect this man has on you.

In a way no one else – not before leaving Graves – ever has.

And darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis

People started talking, putting us through our paces

I knew there was no one in the world that could take it

I had a bad feeling

Focused on his hands, the placement, the speed – Gaz doesn’t notice the way you watch him. How you hang onto his every movement, the indent his teeth leave on his lower lip, the dip of his brow, the slope of  his nose.

If only you could preserve this moment in time forever.

Where nothing mattered, but you and him. There was no impending doom in the form of Phillip Graves, no distrust in the eyes of Ghost, no haunting spectre from your past.

Just you and Gaz and his music.

Your heart aches with the bittersweet of it all. How nothing would be normal, not after the past few days. But maybe now, just for one night, you could pretend to be normal. Pretend that it was just you and a friend spending time together.

Pretend that everything’s okay, and your world as you know it isn’t falling apart at the seams around you.

Pretend that you’re okay.

I’d kiss you as the lights went out

Swaying as the room burned down

I’d hold you as the water rushes in

If I could dance with you again

He feels so close. In every sense of the world. And you yearn and you yearn and you yearn.

For what? For a sense of belonging? Haven’t you always yearned for that – desperate to hide the loneliness in your chest and replace it with bravado? Pretend that your baggage is simply a crate locked and stored away forever?

The beat in your chest, matching the beat of the song, Gaz’s skillful fingers against the strings. Oh, how you suddenly wish to be a poet, just to capture the feeling within you with mere words against paper.

What was it like to be loved?

Honestly and deeply – earnest and true. To be held against a chest for the simple feat of existing, that very truth alone enough to be deserving of such a gesture. The very thought sounds so perfect, now, to be cherished in such a pure way. But who could give that to you?

Gaz?

A fool’s hope. A fool’s dream.

Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied

Yeah, we were dancing

Like it was the first time, first time

Yeah, we were dancing

With the final strum of the final note, you understand what being alive is truly like.

The two of you sit in silence, for a moment, and it’s like a hurricane of emotion and need and want crashes into you all at once, leaving you breathless. 

As he, at last, looks back up to you, expression almost shy, every word evaporates from your brain. Like a drop of water against a barren desert floor. Gone.

“How’d I do?” He asks, voice breathy and tense and oh.

You feel so, so utterly lost. 

Nodding, hand gripping the sheet atop his bed, you wet your bottom lip. “Good. I’m – you’re really good, Kyle.”

His name tastes like dew on your tongue, a blessing to even say the syllables, form the sounds in your mouth. A gift from the gods, a treasure to be varnished and cared for.

Sparkling brown eyes track the movement of your mouth, his own eyes half-lidded and hazy in the low light, and your stomach heats with something you’re not sure you want to place. Something you’re not sure you’re allowed to.

“We should get some sleep,” you find yourself saying, almost on autopilot.

Gaz nods, eyes still transfixed on your mouth, before shaking his head lightly as if to gather his thoughts once more. He gets up, stiff in his movements, carefully putting the guitar away.

“You sure you’re fine sharing a bed?” He asks, ever careful and gentle.

“Yeah,” you say, a breath, “It’s fine. I’m a soldier, I’ve experienced worse.” An attempt of a joke, one that falls flat in the unbreakable tension of the small room. “Do you have a bathroom?” 

He jerks a nod. “The four of us get special treatment ‘round here. Ensuite. Help yourself.”

Getting up on shaky legs, you give him a quick smile, before heading in to brush your teeth and splash your face.

When you look in the mirror, you see a version of yourself that makes you wipe at your eyes.

You look. New. Changed. Different. Any multitude of words to say that you aren’t the same woman that you were days ago. Not the same woman you were under Graves’ leadership, and certainly not the same woman that you were under Shepherd’s training.

If only she could see herself now.

Using the hand towel to wipe off the water, you allow yourself a moment to expel the air from your lungs, and inhale deeply.

Shutting the door behind you with a soft creak, you find the lamp to be turned off, the only light coming from Gaz’s phone as he scrolls through it, laying on his side against the wall.

Awkwardly, you find yourself moving to lay down beside him.

“Sorry,” you whisper when you brush against his arm, the narrow design allowing for next-to-no room for either of you.

Squeezing in closer to the wall, he murmurs back, “It’s alright. Just make sure you’re comfortable.”

Silence falls between the two of you as you get yourself situated, managing to not press against the man again. He’s silent, except for a few breaths, as he looks through his phone. As soon as you’re still, however, he shuts it off, plugging it in and leaving it to sit underneath his pillow.

Sleep clings to your eyelids, a taunting thing, but your body still feels the need to move – to release the energy building up within your limbs.

Minutes pass, like the tick of an analog clock.

It’s about ten minutes of silence, before Gaz breaks it with graceful ignorance.

“You feelin’ alright?” He asks, truly meaning the words – and expecting a proper answer. The ruffle of the singular blanket has you focusing on his movements, but he does nothing more than roll over, facing you now.

“It’s,” you nervously look to the roof, the pitch black of the room doing nothing to aid your internal dilemma. “It’s just a bit cold.”

“It is, innit?” Gaz nervously laughs, and his obvious hesitance, surprisingly, has you more comfortable. You, too, roll over, your faces mere centimetres apart. He seems so warm. Even without the ability to see, you can almost feel his eyes searching your face, desperate for answers to questions he doesn’t want to ask.

What is to live, if not to take risks? The only reason you were here, in this very bed right now was because of a risk, right?

His breath fans against your face, and even that small warmth has you leaning in closer to the Sergeant. As he swallows, it’s an audible sound, the slope of his neck bobbing with the movement.

“Can I hold you?” He asks, a gentle thing, and without a word, you curl up against him.

Bulky, trained, masculine arms wrap around your torso, pulling you in close, sharing the warmth of your body with his own. Your face buries against his shoulder, into his neck, and his scent is so him that it has you burrowing in further. His own hands tighten in the fabric of your borrowed shirt, and what a feeling it is.

You can only wish that you never escape the hold of his arms, if only so you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, without his frame to keep you upright.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear as he speaks. His hands move in circles, a kind motion, and you melt against him.

His thigh slides between your own, an unexpected motion, and you barely conceal a whimper as it slides against your clothed pussy. The sweats do nothing to conceal the heat, the ache you feel between your legs, and the sudden presence of him has you freezing up.

Without a word, he just lets it rest there, continuing to rub soothing circles on your back.

Your lips fall open, spit-slicken, and your nails bite into his back as he leans in closer, pushing his thigh in closer to your core. 

Your breaths become shared in the small space between you two, harried and genuine in the sudden intensity between you both.

“Sergeant,” you breathe, brows furrowed, mouth open as he leans in closer, hands slowly moving from your back, trailing down to your hips, pulling you forward against his thigh.

It's quiet, for a moment, a gentle pause in the current rushing between you both. His hand smoothes over your cheek, cautious and adoring, a reassurance more than anything.

Your eyes flutter shut.

“Colonel,” he returns, and presses his lips against yours.

His mouth moves against your own, sensual and slow, easing in the way he darts his tongue over your lips, meeting your tongue. He tastes like the sweetest of candies, a forbidden fruit’s nectar. Hand moving from your cheek to your neck, he pulls you in closer, turning his head to devour you against his pillow.

A moan slips from you, drowned out by his being melding with your own as he grinds his thigh higher, a perfect pleasure shooting up your spine at the movement.

Thoughts are a difficult thing, at the moment, a rare commodity. When your brain comes back online, you’re sure to hold some regret – but now? With his soft lips on yours, his grip on your neck, the bulk of his thigh? Regret is the last thing on your mind.

When he breaks away, finally, to breathe, a soft sigh escapes his plush mouth.

“Is this okay?” He asks, the words asked in a whisper against the corner of your mouth as he presses gentle kisses along your cheek, the crease of your eye. “Please, love, tell me.”

Your exhale is shaky, but you nod, meeting his lips with a turn of your head. A quick, reassuring exchange. 

“Yeah,” you chuckle lightly, thighs squeezing around his, tits pressed against his own flat chest, “This is okay, Kyle.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he gasps, a devotion, before moving to straddle you, hands falling into your hair like a lifeline as he ravages your mouth once more. Small nips to your lips, a tongue searching your own, his pelvis pressed tightly against your soaking pussy.

“Fuck,” you whimper, turning your head to breathe as he moves one hand to slowly follow your frame, brushing your collarbones, tugging at the fabric of your shirt. Your nipples feel unbearably tight, achey, and you’re desperate for his touch.

“Can I take this off, love?” He asks – a plea, really. “Let me see your pretty tits.”

You’re nodding, frantic, as he pulls the shirt over your head, helping you sit up a bit to take it off entirely, throwing it to the floor with little care.

His hands are warm against your cold chest, careful as they first graze your tits, both of you letting out tense breaths as he cradles them in his hands, feeling out the weight of them, entranced. The heel of his palm presses against your nipples, and you let out a small cry as he rubs them in those circles he loves so much.

“Shh, Sweetheart,” he whispers, noting your noises. “I’ll take good care of ya. Y’know I will.”

Your eyes shut as he leans in, licking a stripe across the expanse of your breasts, using one hand to squeeze while he uses his mouth to treat your most needy spots.

Hand moving to rest at the nape of his neck, you form a tight fist in his hair, pulling him in closer to your body. He lets out a low hum, the vibration of the sound sending sparks shooting behind your eyelids as he toys with your nipples, meticulous.

“Sergeant,” you whine, breathless, wanting, “Sergeant, please.”

He moves away from worshipping your tits to meet your lips, licking into your mouth with the energy and fervour of a virgin. The brush of your naked chest against his clothed torso has you aching.

“Colonel,” he challenges, tugging at your lower lip with his teeth, drawing a drop of blood, “Let me lick your pussy, love, c’mon. I’ll kiss ‘er real nice.”

You’re helpless to do anything but nod.

With one hand, he undoes the tie of your sweats, pulling down the pants as he goes. Lifting your legs with ease, he takes them off all the way, chucking it over the edge of the bed to join your shirt.

His hands rub soothingly over your bare skin, slowly moving upwards on his knees until he meets your thighs. Leaning down, like a beggar at an altar, he starts to leave open-mouthed kisses on the skin near your pulsing heat, sucking on the unseen area and leaving behind marks. His hands hold onto your hips like they’ll provide him mercy.

Both hands in his hair, lightly pulling, you start to grind against his face when he starts leaving kisses around your folds, fingers leaving imprints with the viciousness of his grasp around your hips. 

Your mind feels numb, no goals, no thoughts, other than that of pleasure. 

The first lick against your pussy has a desperate whimper bubbling out of you, nails scraping against his scalp as he flicks his tongue over your swollen clit. There’s a viciousness to it, one that he embraces, his teeth softly grazing your tender bud as he caresses you.

“Oh,” you moan, head flung back, mouth fallen open as you grind against his giving mouth. “Fuck. Please. Feels so good.”

He pulls away, just far enough back so his lips brush against your core as he whispers, “Gotta stay quiet, love, yeah?” Smoothing his hand over your stomach, pressing you down further into his bed, you clasp one hand over your mouth.

Smirking against your thigh, he praises, “Atta girl.”

Your lower stomach burns with need, and you feel electricity line your veins as he savours your taste, keeping you pinned to the mattress with his calloused hand. He’s passionate about it, laving over your pussy with precise strokes. Your thighs squeeze around his head, and in response, he only lets out a long, drawn-out moan, muffled by your body.

His finger moves to rub at your entrance, rubbing softly around it, before slowly thrusting his index finger in.

Swallowing a whine, you pull him in closer, your stomach tightening as he pushes in a second finger. He’s good with it – knows where to touch, how deep, the movements. Practised and skillful in his strokes – a musician, through and through.

“God, Kyle, you’re doing so good,” you mumble, hair splayed on the pillow beneath you as you rut against him, using him for your own gain. It feels perfect, the way he’s putting your pleasure over anything else.

So unlike any other man you’ve been with.

“If I could spend my days with you sitting on my face,” Gaz admires, leaning back, heaving deep breaths, continuing to lazily finger you as your grip loosens in his hair, “I’d do it in a heartbeat, Colonel.”

“Don’t stop calling me that,” you order, tightening your grip once more and pulling him back. He goes without a word, energy increasing tenfold, two fingers turning into three. He goes at it like a man starved, and the noises that leave your lips are nothing but sex-addled.

He tries to reply, but it’s muffled as he continues to eat you out, relentless in his devotion to the act.

Hand softly moving from your stomach, he outstretches it, searching for your own hand with small squeezes. When you shakily meet it with your own, he intertwines them, pushing them to the mattress with strength and determination. With every thrust of his other hand, or lick of his tongue, he tightens his grip.

You find your core tightening, your release coming up quick as he plays you like the instrument now lying in his wardrobe. The pure darkness of the room only aids the sensuality of it all, the air existing between just the two of you.

Any thought of right and wrong feel nothing but unnecessary, now, and utterly pointless. What's the purpose of worrying about the morality of it all, when you're both consenting and wanting and ready? When it feels so fucking good to have him servicing you between your legs?

If only you could see him, the beauty of his pussy-drunk face, the glisten of you on the stubble of his chin.

“I'm close, Sergeant, fuck,” you gasp, gyrating your hips against him, his nose bumping your clit where he licks in your entrance. 

He doubles his efforts, fingering and savouring and worshipping.

Your release comes when he broadly licks over your clit, fingers pressing against just the right spot inside of you, his moan a small vibration against your sensitive bud. Keening, hand coming up to slam over your mouth, a tear drops from your clenched eyes as you ride out the aftershocks.

Allowing you to use him for the last few moments of pleasure, he doesn’t untwine your hands, but he does stop fingering you to rub at your thigh in reassuring circles.

When your hips start stuttering, your keens turning into overstimulated whimpers, he slowly moves away, licking over the essence coating his mouth and lower face. His hand still remains in your own as he leans in, opening your mouth with languid strokes and smooth kisses. You arch into it, breasts pressing against his still clothed chest.

Breaking away from the embrace, thumb stroking over your inner wrist, he brings up his slicken hand.

“Gotta clean up your mess, love,” he gently encourages, opening your jaw with a soft grip of your chin, before slowly dragging his fingers over your waiting tongue. His breath brushes your cheek as he explores your mouth.

“Sergeant,” you mumble around the intrusion, eyes blissfully shut, “Need to make you feel good too.”

He freezes, a moment, a barely noticeable thing. “Makin’ you feel good got me off. Don’t worry, Colonel – next time.”

Now it’s your turn to freeze as he extracts his fingers, wiping them off on his own shirt. “Next time? I,” you swallow, “What is this, even? What are we doing?”

Reality and consequences and everything hit you all at once, your chest tightening even in the afterglow of your orgasm. 

He furrows his brows, untwining his fingers from yours and rubbing soothing patterns over your hand, his other carefully pulling back your messy hair behind your ears. “We can’t tell the guys,” he admonishes, slowing his movements as he realises. “We can’t – they’ll crucify us both, and –”

“And?” You ask as he trails off, your brows matching his, now, as he rolls to his side, pulling your back to his chest. He rubs at your waist, your hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck.

“Nothing,” he’s quick to amend, “Don’t worry about it. Just… focus on the feeling. Gonna be a shit show, the next couple of days. Lay with me, get some rest.”

You hum, non-committal. Relaxing further against him, his head resting in the crook of your neck, your breaths come out slow and calm. “You and Price,” you start, a niggling in the back of your mind that yearns for information causing you to speak the words. “The two of you – you’re different.”

He halts his movements, head slowly moving back from your neck. “What – what do you mean?”

Hand searching behind you, you pull him back in, his head burrowing further against your shoulder, your skin. You try and think of the best way to put it, the comfortable silence helping you gather your thoughts as you do.

“You’re… You like him, don’t you?”

Gaz’s responding laugh is grating, a choked off thing, a sad one. Your heart sinks to your feet, his body suddenly stiff against your own.

“No. I don’t like my Cap,” he huffs, indignant. Like it’s the craziest thing you’ve ever said, and not something based on quiet observation.

“You’re sure? Or is it just that you think he doesn’t like you?”

He pauses. Stilling, but processing your words for what they are. His response is a sceptic, “Like is a juvenile idea, anyways, Sweetheart.”

“I like you,” you admit, words soft as they leave your mouth, kind. Genuine.

“If it was that simple, everyone would be too busy getting with everyone they liked to live,” he admonishes, just as soft, as respectful. He’s so introspective – the most underestimated of the 141, but the most receptive. Understanding and watchful.

“It can be that simple. Sometimes.”

“Didn’t realise you were a dreamer, Colonel.”

“What else combats the nightmares?”

Silence. Your most common enemy and foe, fills in the blanks between you both. He holds you against him tight, now, like you’re an anchor, and he’s a yacht in the stormiest of seas.

“We can’t tell ‘em,” Gaz states after the silence takes hold for minutes on end. “We’re dead if we do – can’t let ‘em figure it out, either.”

“It was just a lapse in judgement,” you say, not believing the words as they fall from your lips. Hate yourself for saying them. “No one has to know. I’ll be out of your hair after this is all done with, anyways.”

He doesn’t respond to that. Not for a long while.

It’s only when you’re a single step away from sleep that he does.

“I really hope that’s another lie, Sweetheart.”

*

“Gaz, Sweetheart – get yer arses up, Laswell got more intel!”

You groan, lazily rolling onto your back, body burning hot from your bedmate’s clinging form. His arms hand around your waist, his entire being pressed against you, snoring softly where his chin rests atop your head.

Wiping at the sleep from your eyes, bleary and tired, you groan when Gaz just squeezes you tighter, pressing his face to your bed-hair.

That same voice calls from outside the door once more, loud knocking following his Scottish lilt.

“Aye swear to god, if either of ye are naked or I see jizz–”

“We’re up! We’re up!” You call out, cheeks heating from how on the nose his joking goad is. “Give us a minute!”

“Hurry up, Sweetheart, or aye will carry ye out over my bloody shoulder.”

Gaz yelps when you scramble out of bed and pull the covers clean off, uncaring of your naked frame as you hop on one leg to tug on the spare sweatpants from last night. 

He shoves a pillow over his eyes as you rip open the window’s curtains, allowing the late morning light to filter in as you tug on your shirt. His sweatpants hang loosely around you, and you tie them off with one hand while the other pulls at his arm.

“Gaz – get up!” You hiss as he tries to hit your arm away, you dodging every half-hearted swing with ease. “Unless you want Soap to come in and –”

“Fuck, woman, I’m up!” He instantly acquiesces, sitting as soon as the name Soap leaves your mouth. 

You try to hide your smirk, but you obviously fail miserably, as a moment later a pillow is flung into your face. Hands on your hips, you raise a brow, glaring at the man rubbing his palms over his eyes.

Moving to the door, you open it, focusing entirely on not looking like the cat who got the cream.

Technically speaking, Gaz fit that description more accurately, but you weren’t about to get into the logistics. Not when Soap looks at you, then over your shoulder, then back at you. You swallow.

“Mornin’, Sleepin’ Beauty,” he winks, and you barely suppress a groan. He pulls you in with an elbow around your neck, rubbing at your bed hair with a chuckle. “Or is Rapunzel more fittin’?”

“If she’s Rapunzel, you’re the bloody chameleon, you twat!” Gaz calls from further in the room, walking over to join the two of you while latching his watch around his wrist. It’s silver – not too over the top, but good quality, too.

Your cheeks ache with the smile stretching your face, following as Soap swings his elbow around yours, and Gaz follows behind with a hand on your lower back.

“What kinda intel?” You ask around a giggle, and you realise your mistake as the mood sours almost immediately.

Soap nervously darts his eyes to the surrounding hallway, as if the metal will provide him answers. They don’t.

“Soap?” Gaz, too, asks, hand moving to between your shoulder blades in a comforting gesture.

His blue eyes meet yours. Guilty, almost, pitiful. As if he knows the next statement will ruin your fantastic mood, the jovial air between the three of you.

When he says it, he does so with a firm expression.

“We got intel on Shadow Company – and where to find the deal Graves made with Shepherd.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re @oreo-cream @someonepleasedateme @letmeapologise @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @inarabee @simp-sentral @littlecellist @clear-your-mind-and-dream @browtfyoudoing @oreo-cream @fanngirl19

[thewertsearch]

GG: yaaaaaay!!! GA: Youll Need Somewhere To Keep Them While They Grow

Vriska would approve.

Also, I hope that water's fresh.

GG: so what is the actual purpose of all this breeding? GG: am i trying to make one really special frog with just the right genetic code or something? GG: sort of like the ULTIMATE FROG :O GA: Actually GA: Yes GA: Thats Exactly What Youre Doing […] GA: Your Objective Is To Breed The Genesis Frog

The Genesis Frog - a phrase I’m willing to bet is capitalized even without Kanaya’s quirk - would fit right in with Bilious Slick's other titles.

I think Jade's literally trying to create Slick, or an iteration of him, and that deriving his genome is crucial to the session's endgame. He's been haunting us for thousands of pages, and his importance is nothing less than absolute.

GA: You Cant Complete The Game Without Doing So GA: Your Entire Mission Depends On Breeding Him

Finally.

Come on, Kanaya, play ball with me here.

What is the purpose of Bilious Slick, the Genesis Frog?

GG: what do we do after i make this big god froggy? GG: does it have something to do with the new universe we create? GA: Most Certainly

...oh my fucking god.

Oh my FUCKING god.

She's deadass, isn't she? She's not being figurative, allegorical or metaphorical. Kanaya is literally saying that if you zoom out far enough from a universe, you'll see Bilious Slick's beady eyes staring back at you. The true shape of reality is a thing that croaks.

This is why Derse hates him. He's a symbol of Player victory, and Derse's entire raison d'etre is to oppose the Players. The amphibian civil war was signalling the opposing Carapacian attitudes to the creation of a universe.

This is why Aradia associates Slick with probability. He contains all possibilities because he's made of Paradox Space.

This is why Vriska was so surprised that John found one in his Land. Creating frogs is an endgame quest, and her own Space Player took weeks to make progress in cloning them.

The Forge hasn't even entered yet, and John's already holding one of the ancestors of his nascent universe.

And this the answer to the Great Frog Riddle. It's why Slick stands at the peak of every Sburb Temple - because he is its genesis, its purpose and its prize.

Bilious Slick is more than a god – he’s a space for gods to fill.

It's shit like this that makes Homestuck my favorite webcomic of all. The Ultimate Reward - the grand prize of reality's great game - is a fucking frog.

[laiahernandeeezzz]

Hello lovely human,

could u write Yelena X reader. The reader is Natashas bestie and they meet after the events of endgame. Nat and Y/n are living together and Yelena joins them. Y/n and Yelena are slowly falling for each other and Nat is just like third wheeling or teasing them xdd

This took me quite long, and I had to split it in two... I hope you enjoy this first bit

******

FALLING SLOWLY

******

Pairing: Yelena Belova x fem!reader

Words: 1.8K

******

Living with a trained spy is, at least, curious. Natasha Romanoff was a peculiar individual, with weird mores. It wasn’t strange to find the red-head at 4 am fully awake, living for a run or having breakfast to start her day. On the other hand, Y/n still had, minimum, three to four more hours of sleep.

However, they understood each other perfectly. Chores were shared thoughtfully, Natasha not being able to get near the kitchen -she was capable of burning water-, and Y/n was forbidden near the washing machine -she had turned more than one white piece of clothing into another completely different colour. They had been sharing a home for years, but then a purple alien decided to blow up the compound, and they decided to buy a flat for themselves. 

******

“Y/n… My precious friend, my favourite hero, my super talented cook” Natasha said in a singing voice as she entered the kitchen area, where Y/n was making pancakes for breakfast. As it was a Sunday, Natasha gave herself the pleasure to sleep in a bit. 

“Stop that… What do you want? I don’t have Wanda’s ability to read your mind, but I know you well enough to know you want something”

“What? No” Y/n gave her an unimpressed look, “Okay, fine… So you know my sister Yelena, right? She was freeing some widows, and she just returned from the blip… We’ve been apart for so long, she has nowhere to go…” Y/n continued mixing the pancake mix, but raised her eyes to meet her friend’s ones. 

“Can you go straight to the point please, this isn’t like you” Natasha sighed, feeling caught up, looking like a kid that had just broken a plate. 

“Alright… I wanted to ask you if she can come live here with us? We have a spare room, she is nice, most of the time” the last part she mumbled, but kept eye contact with her roommate. The spy relaxed when she saw Y/n’s lips forming a wide smile.

“Nat, you could’ve just said that… Of course, she can come, I’m excited to meet her” Y/n went around the kitchen aisle to hug her friend quickly. 

“Great, because she’ll be here in thirty minutes, thank you” Astonished, and with wide eyes, Y/n separated from Natasha, looking at her shocked. 

“What? Oh, fuck you. What would you have done if I said no?”

“You forget that I also know you, you are too good to say no” Y/n returned to her task, shaking her head in disbelief, while Natasha went to prepare the spare room for Yelena.

Y/n decided to take a shower so she didn’t smell like pancakes when Yelena arrived. She also changed her clothes to something more presentable, and put come concealer on. When she got out, she heard her friend talking to someone with a very thick accent. That must be Yelena, she thought, while taking a deep breath and heading towards them.

The first thing she noticed of the blonde girl was that deep, husky laugh, as well as her voice. Once Yelena was fully in her sight, she could take her traits completely. She was quite tiny, but you could tell she was strong anyway, her hair was long, falling in waves onto her shoulder, she had the cutest round nose, and rosy cheeks. And as soon as they locked eyes, Y/n felt her breathing stop. Yelena’s eyes were the most beautiful shade of green, dots of what looked like gold tainted them.

Natasha was quickly introducing them, a small smirk on her face as she took in her friend’s shook. “Sestra, this is Y/n, my friend and roommate. Y/n this is Yelena, my baby sister”

“It is a pleasure to meet you” Y/n felt in some kind of trance, not being quite able to take her eyes off the smaller woman. You’re being creepy, stop it, her mind screamed at her, but she didn’t put any attention to it. What she did put her attention on was that accent, that now that she was closer, it was making her feel things that she didn’t want to acknowledge.  

“Your accent is so cool” Eyes widened. Y/n’s face flushed in red, Natasha was trying so hard to not laugh, and she could’ve sworn Yelena’s cheeks were a bit more rosy than they were before. Well, she could’ve if she wasn’t so mortified. "I mean… It’s obviously a pleasure to meet you too… Who wants some breakfast?” 

The blonde girl let out a loud “yes, please” and they headed to the sofa -they weren’t quite fond of eating on tables-. Y/n held herself back trying to calm down her pounding heart, but her roommate didn’t seem to think she had suffered embarrassment enough, “Stop mindfucking my sister in your head and come eat!” With a groan, and an annoyed expression, she joined the other two women, the frown on her face disappearing when she saw the two sisters together and laughing again.

******

Living with two sisters was, at least, interesting. They didn’t fight a lot, but when they did, the whole building shook. The worst part is that mostly those fights were because of stupid -in Y/n’s opinion- stuff. What to eat, who had to clean the bathroom, who chose what to watch on the TV… They were usually short, loud fights, but they had been fighting for twenty minutes, and Y/n couldn’t take it any more.

“That’s enough!” Finally, they shut up, looking at Y/n surprised. She didn’t tend to get in the middle of their arguments. “You’ve been fighting for almost half an hour over who will do the dishes, don’t worry I’ll do it, but please, lock yourselves in your rooms, because this is getting out of control.

The sisters looked ashamed, but knew that saying anything else wouldn’t help, so they left. Y/n headed to the kitchen, angry at her friends. She loved them, truly, but this was getting exhausting. Y/n knew that living with other people could be tough, but their fights were just ridiculous. 

She had been cleaning for a few minutes when some footsteps came behind her. “I really don’t want to talk right now”.

“I just wanted to apologize to you” She didn’t have to turn around to know it was the blonde girl. Y/n would recognize that voice anywhere, that accent constantly running in her mind. The taller woman had accepted that she may or may not have some feelings towards Yelena, not that she was ever telling her friend that. Especially after knowing her for just a few weeks. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, but it was getting absurd” She sighed and turned around to face the blonde, only to find her looking down, a sad frown on her face.

“I know it sounds like an excuse, but living with someone after so many years being alone it’s weird, hard” Y/n slightly knew their story, Natasha telling her when they found each other again, and their mission to bring down the Red Room.

“Hey, Lena? Don’t worry, it’s just sometimes I get triggered by shouts. My parents were constantly fighting when I was little, and I just hate it” Y/n felt a Yelena move to be closer, taking her hand, and stroking her finger on her knuckles. “I’ll try to do better I promise you” The Russian said, as Y/n hugged her, softly muttering a thank you.

Yelena then offered to help Y/n, so they cleaned the rest of the plates, doing small talk. What the girls didn’t notice was a certain redhead looking at them, with a small smile, watching at how the younger women laughed, Y/n pushing the blonde’s shoulder, while the latter rolled her eyes. 

******

And Yelena did what she promised, fights minimum after two months. Bickering was still there, but most of the time it was more joking and teasing than serious. On the other hand, Yelena and Y/n entered a curious dynamic. They understood each other pretty well; shopping was their alone time without Natasha, not that she bothered them, but it was nice to have it. 

Y/n had accepted that she did have feelings towards the blonde, but didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so she never said anything. However, she wasn’t sure that the older woman didn’t also feel something, teasing and flirting was quite common, coming from her, but Y/n desperately convinced herself that it was just how Yelena was.  

Those thoughts were running through her mind almost all the time, thankfully shower time let her rest from them, music blasting out the speakers of her phone. When she got out, she wrapped a towel around her body, it barely covered her butt, but she was sure her roommates were in their rooms. 

She headed to her dormitory, humming the song she had been listening to without paying any attention to her surroundings until she bumped into something, making her slip with the water she was leaving on the floor, as well as her towel. Y/n expected to feel the floor against her back, but it never came.

An arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her close so she wouldn’t fall. A whimper came out of Y/n, when she locked eyes with the person in front of her. Yelena had her eyes widened, her hand hot against the younger woman’s back. They stayed in shock for a few seconds, but when the blonde returned to her senses, quickly separated from Y/n, picking the towel and handing it to the other girl.

Y/n muttered a soft thank you, while she walked -more like run- to her bedroom, closing the door behind her and resting against it. Her body was aroused by the thought of Yelena’s hands purposely running through her naked body. She felt like she needed to take a cold shower this time, but she wasn’t coming out of her room until dinner time, not feeling prepared to face the blonde girl again. What she didn’t know was that Yelena was in the same state as her, she was seated on the end of her bed, staring intensely at her hand, the feeling of Y/n’s back still lingering on her fingers.

A few hours later, three women were eating in silence, the younger ones looking at their plates as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, while the older burned her gaze into their skulls, taking their faces. “What is going on with you two?”

And, finally, the girls looked up. They quickly glanced at each other, cheeks red instantly. “Nothing” both of them said, and Natasha for once didn’t push any further, enjoying the girls’ embarrassment. 

[part one]

[goldsainz]

❝ WE’D BE A BIG CONVERSATION ❞

MASTERLIST!

pairing . . . carlos sainz x leclerc!reader

◦∘｡ﾟ. request . . . “Carlos x Leclerc!reader and how the media would react?🤭 ❤️”

◦∘｡ﾟ. summary . . . even if the world can’t make up its mind about you, you’ll still be endgame.

◦∘｡ﾟ. note . . . HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO TAY TAY!!! i had to make something at least related to her… although most of my fics are based on her songs so i owe her a lot for all the variety she has on her catalogue 💙 on another note, now that i’m back i gotta keep the fics coming so i hope to put one per week (don’t hold me to that). this is also soooo longggg im sorry😭

liked by lorenzotl, carlossainz55 and 207,843 others

yourusername living my spanish villa life

view all 1,609 comments

carlosfan1 carlos in the likes!!!!!

ynfan1 she’s the love of my life

charles_leclerc Trop belle ❤️

liked by yourusername and 26,139 others

arthur_leclerc Why are you in spain?

arthur_leclerc Come back to Monaco

⤷ yourusername no

⤷ arthur_leclerc I’m telling maman

⤷ yourusername go right ahead, i’ll tell her all about those plates that suddenly disappeared

⤷ arthur_leclerc Truce…?

⤷ yourusername yayyy

ynfan2 crying at arthur being clingy😭

user1 girl it’s the middle of august aren’t you sweating your skin off?

⤷ yourusername beauty is pain ❤️

⤷ ynfan3 LMFAO

liked by landonorris, reyesvdec and 1,283,059 others

carlossainz55 Summer 💛

view all 19,245 comments

carlosfan21 trying not to freak tf out rn…

anasainzvdec Que veranillo 🙌

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 71,024 others

carlosfan22 WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK

ynfan21 why did y/n like carlos sister’s comment🤨

⤷ carlosfan23 she did what?!?!

⤷ ynfan21 she unliked it a while after… but i screenshotted it cause it was so weird

⤷ ynfan22 this + him liking y/n’s latest post is giving soft-launch

carlosfan24 expected silly season, got love season

carlosfan25 patiently waiting for the f1 detectives to uncover who that is 😁

ynfan23 THAT IS SO Y/N

ynfan24 i’d like to issue out an apology for how annoying i’ll be if that is in fact y/n

⤷ carlosfan26 me too

⤷ pierregasly Me three

⤷ ynfan24 WHAT??? PIERRE???

⤷ francisca.cgomes pierregasly that is not your burner…

⤷ pierregasly Shiiiiit

⤷ ynfan25 there’s a lot to unpack here😭

yourusername updates their instagram stories!

francisca.cgomes responded to you story!

francisca.cgomes you’re in italy rn 🤨

yourusername i knowwww

francisca.cgomes so why aren’t you enjoying

yourusername cause charles and arthur and lorenzo are hovering over my shoulder like im gonna blow up the ferrari motorhome which mean i can’t see my mannnn😫

francisca.cgomes pierre can take care of charles, and then i’ll ask charlotte if she can distract lorenzo… maybe you can talk to carla so she’ll keep arthur busy?

yourusername I LOVE YOU! YOU’RE A LIFESAVER!

francisca.cgomes you can thank me later!!! go see carlos while you can

yourusername right okay bye bye

francisca.cgomes 😘

liked by lailahasanovic, olliebearman and 297,150 others

yourusername italy you were amazing!!!!!

view all 4,457 comments

ynfan31 HELLO???????

ynfan32 did not expect this when i opened insta

carlosfan31 oh.

arthur_leclerc Answer my calls

arthur_leclerc Don’t ignore us, Y/N

charles_leclerc ???

lorenzotl Interesting

user31 where’s the jacket from?

⤷ yourusername bershka 🩵

⤷ ynfan33 BYE NOT HER IGNORING HER BROTHERS

carlosfan32 okay but what does lorenzo know why is he so chill 🤨

ynfan34 it’s giving ferrari royalty

ynfan35 the way her eyes were glowing while watching carlos on the podium… they’re in love IN LOVE

carlosfan33 HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAMMM

yourusername updated their instagram stories!

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 1,783,902others

carlossainz55 Singapore you’ll forever be in my memory

view all 26,758 comments

yourusername mi amorrrr

yourusername winner of singapore and my heart

⤷ carlossainz55 Mi corazón es todo tuyo también ❤️

yourusername 🫠🫠🫠

carlosfan41 they’re so endgame coded

⤷ ynfan41 so reputation coded in general

carlosfan42 y/n is so me thirsting over carlos

carlosfan43 god i’ve seen what you’ve done for others

ynfan42 why does it feel like charles and arthur are so detached from y/n lately???

⤷ carlosfan44 OMG YES I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO SAY THIS

⤷ carlosfan45 i think since monza we’ve had no content with them… we went from silly stories to radio silence

scuderiaferrari ❤️🍾

liked by carlossainz55 and 68,035 others

ynfan43 these are my parents now

ynfan44 this is everything to me!!!!!!!

carlosfan46 singapore will forever be in my memory too 🥹

translations:

— mi amorrrr : my loveeee — Mi corazón es todo tuyo también : My heart is all yours too

-ˋˏ *.· taglist . . . @lorarri @lpab @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @toomuchdelusion @goldenalbon @ravisinghs-wife @nouvellevqgue @hobiismyhopeu @celestialpato @lecsainz @kkeels @darleneslane @avengersheart

[minus-plus-zer0]

Bakugou Plays Stardew Valley

| Masterlist | The Bakusquad Gaming Group Masterlist | | Previous | Next | ♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Gamer!Bakugou x Gamer!Reader ♡ Tags: Crossover (MHA x multiple franchises), gaming AU, Quirkless AU, aged up (Any gaming crossover chapters will be skippable if you don't recognize the franchise. These chapters are one-shots that can be viewed without reading the other chapters.)

Stardew Valley didn't appear on Bakugou's radar until you convinced him to give it a shot (at least for your sake).

You two would work as farmers on Bakugou's rundown field, trying to restore the land as per his in-game dead grandpa's wishes. Both you and Bakugou designed your farmers' appearances after your real life selves and you found it so cute to see Bakugou in his true pixel form.

At first, you two walked everywhere together at your unbelievably slow pace. While Bakugou went around buying seeds and foraging, all you wanted to do was greet all the cold, hostile villagers. For obvious reasons, Bakugou hated that idea.

"But we need to get started on romancing someone," you said, following Bakugou across town. "We might as well pick a villager we wanna marry for the sake of pleasing your dead grandfather's wishes."

Bakugou's farmer stopped to glare yours down in-game. "I don’t want any of those stinking villagers on our farm! Don’t go marrying any of them. I don’t care about their heart events, I don’t care about their birthdays, and I don’t give a fuck about not having enough hearts for the Flower Dance. I’m not here to make friends.”

Bakugou started heading back towards the farm again, and you followed.

“But we need to get married for a good endgame rating!” you protested.

“Well… I got you, don’t I?”

You were too frantically aware that you both were on a livestream, where everyone could see your reaction to his comment.

“Bakugou," you cried, "you can't just propose to me on stream like that!”

"It's a VIDEO GAME! And I'm not proposing to you yet." His character faced yours. "Wait until I get you a ring. Then you'll see."

"Bakugou!"

You couldn't believe what you saw on his facecam. Bakugou was grinning like a madman. This would only fan the flames of the shipping fanbase that was already brewing in your fanbases, but right now you were more concerned with his reaction than theirs.

During a stream break sometime later, Bakugou pulled you aside for a phone call to talk about what happened.

"You okay with that?" Bakugou asked. "With the marriage shit? We didn't discuss this shit enough beforehand, but I don't wanna pressure you into doing anything you don't wanna do."

You were so relieved he asked first. Truth be told, you wanted to broach the topic yourself but felt nervous.

"...I'm okay if it's you," you admitted, thankful he couldn't see your embarrassed face over the phone. "I mean, I really don't wanna get a worse endgame rating if we don't marry someone, so it only makes sense that we marry each other... Plus, I think it'd be fun to roleplay as a married couple for the sake of the stream. I wanna see all your heart events!"

"You have to woo me first for that," he said, and you could just imagine his eager grin on the other side of the phone call. "But if ya ever change your mind and feel uncomfortable, fucking hit me in-game or something and I'll stop."

"I'm not doing that!"

From then on, you and Bakugou fell into a fine routine, slowly feeling out your in-game relationship. Bakugou decided to gradually raise your affection levels like he would with any NPC, gifting you items twice a week. Sometimes he found the perfect gift and he'd have to chase you down just to give it to you while you went about your daily tasks. Other times, he brought you gifts you didn't need and cursed himself for getting it in the first place. You accepted it out of politeness and thanked him, but for Bakugou it wasn't enough.

"You're out of space?!" Bakugou said, his farmer holding a flower above his head smack dab in the middle of town. "Dammit!"

"Oh c'mon, it's okay." Your pink farmer sidled up to his. "I still appreciate the thought!"

"No, no, don't pity me. I'll do better. I'm gonna get you something that'll knock your goddamn socks off. Something that won't just sit in storage all day."

He ended up interrogating you for your 'loved gifts', which included an item rarely found early into the game, a pink cake. Although you warned him it would be hard to find and hard to justify buying even if he did find it, Bakugou still took to the challenge out of sheer spite at being told he couldn't. By dumb luck, he was able to buy it at the saloon sometime later and handed it to you, having saved up the money for it. For him, it was all worth it just to see the joy and shock on your face. His eyes were glued to your face cam visible on his monitor while you squealed out of happiness.

You also gave Bakugou many gifts in return to 'woo' him, even though you had no idea what items he liked. At first you started off with romantic flowers, then you progressed to useful minerals, and finally you just gave him stones to see if he'd still take it. He did, and he thanked you, and then he used your slingshot to shoot the stones at Alex, the town jock who flirted with you last week. Bakugou just wasn't the forgiving type.

Although you were often forced to split up to get everything done, you and Bakugou still made time to do things together in-game. For example, you only entered the mines if Bakugou was there to defend you from the terrifying monsters that lurked beneath. And you attended every festival together, with Bakugou accompanying you as a scary guard dog while you chatted up all the villagers. Every time you two shared quality time together, you called it a heart event. Bakugou didn't reject the idea, but he did call you a sap.

Eventually, you two started accumulating a number of furniture items and you both thought about upgrading your houses. But you couldn't really financially justify the cost.

"Since we're already planning on getting married, why don't we just live together now?" you asked, while visiting his house first thing in the morning. "It'd be easier to only have to upgrade one house instead of two."

"That much was obvious," Bakugou said. "But if you wanna do it sooner than later, I sure as hell won't stop ya."

"...What about the beds?" you asked, while checking out his home. "With all our stuff, there's only room for one..."

"It's just pixels! It's fine if we sleep in the same area. It's only practical!"

"Yeah... practical!"

Or so you told yourself.

And so, you two lived in the same farmhouse together and woke up to each other every single day with much, much awkwardness. Your chat had a riot the first time it happened, with some of them saying their fanfics had finally come true.

"Fanfics?" you asked, your eyes squinting at the chat displayed on one of your monitors. "What fanfics?"

"I don't even wanna fucking know." Bakugou sweated a little.

But despite the awkwardness, Bakugou never asked you to leave. Sometimes he even told you to rush home so you'd sleep together instead of seeing you pass out at 2 AM.

"We need you at full energy tomorrow, so you have to go to bed!" Bakugou said, while your slow pink farmer speedwalked back home. "From now on, you can't just pass out anywhere you want! We have to sleep together!"

"Phrasing, Bakugou, phrasing!"

Now Bakugou was hellbent on making sure you two woke up to each other every morning as per your decided routine. He kept justifying it by saying that sleeping at appropriate times was necessary for keeping your stamina levels high for the following morning, but the chat refused to believe it.

"he wants to wake up to you?" a chat member remarked. "for every day of his life???"

"You really are a clingy guy, huh?" Your cute farmer faced his in your shared bed.

"I wouldn't have to fucking cling if you'd just stay put," Bakugou pouted.

Eventually, you started unlocking more and more heart events with other villagers and this pissed Bakugou off. The chat accused the villagers of being "homewreckers" for flirting with you once they grew closer to you. For example, one boy named Sebastian offered to take you on a private ride on his motorcycle and Bakugou was livid.

"This nerd needs to back the fuck off," Bakugou said, standing right beside you outside Sebastian's room.

"He's just a friend, Bakugou!"

"HE'S NOT INVITED TO OUR WEDDING!"

The chat encouraged you to encounter more heart events with the other villagers, just to see each and every one of them try and steal you from Bakugou. They loved watching him grow jealous, because they thought it was further proof of his love. One girl named Abigail sent you a letter inviting you to her place late at night and Bakugou strictly forbid you from going. The chat had to spoil the fact that the event wouldn't include anything risqué for him to even accept this near declaration of war.

Fortunately, you and Bakugou soon got married in-game. Bakugou hoped that the villagers would now back off from flirting, but you knew their old lines would still be hardcoded into the game. Your chat members celebrated with many donations and congratulations, to which you and Bakugou gave each other the side-eye.

This romance was still fictional, right?

You both pretended to do all these romantic in-game activities to entertain the chat as well to get a better endgame rating, but deep down you wished you could have a little bit of this in real life!

After you two "finished" the game and had your farm positively rated by Bakugou's grandpa, the Stardew streams finally came to a close. You missed the game already and you could've continued, but you both felt this was a good enough ending to your file.

The weekend after, you hoped to hang out again with Bakugou outside of streaming, and you still couldn't get Stardew out of your mind. Your fanbases kept posting fanart of your Stardew playthrough, which helped keep all the memories fresh. Many of their fanarts depicted you two together side-by-side, and you loved looking at Bakugou in all their different art styles. You'd have to talk to him about the shipping though, at some point... It was really getting out of hand.

Bakugou was also still thinking about your past streams, though he had something different in mind when you showed up to his apartment one day.

"Bakugou! Where are we going?"

Bakugou covered your eyes from behind and led you a short ways forward. You must've been around his kitchen by this point.

"Hold on," Bakugou said. He turned you to face a specific direction. "I'm gonna remove my hands."

"Bakugou, what--"

There was a pink cake waiting for you on his kitchen counter, looking exactly like its in-game counterpart.

"Since we're staying at my apartment today, thought you'd get hungry at some point." Bakugou looked smug as hell. "Ya like it?"

"Like it? I love it! This is so, so, so cool!" You threw your arms around him and squeezed, and his arms wrapped around you in turn.

"Learned from you, actually," he said. "Like those videos where you bake fictional food."

You released him from your hug and bumped your hip against his. "Almost forgot you were my biggest fan!"

"Quit talking and eat. I didn't ask for any silly little comments!"

"Well you're getting some!"

You and Bakugou spent the rest of the day hanging around his living room, eating his food, and watching other Bakusquad member's streams of Stardew Valley on his laptop. All of them ended up romancing NPCs, and your streams were the only ones where someone married another player. You suddenly became far too aware of how close Bakugou was to you on the couch. While watching Kaminari's in-game wedding, you caught each other's eyes and quickly looked away. You wanted to discuss this, but you didn't know how.

"Do you regret it?" You wore a teasing small smile. "You regret being married to me?"

"Hell no," Bakugou said, his face somewhat red. "You better not be asking 'cause you regret it now yourself."

"Of course not! I was only wondering." You mindlessly played with your food. "After all, you've probably seen what the chat members are saying about our 'relationship'..."

"Hey. Look at me."

You looked up from your food to see Bakugou grinning once again.

"Let them think whatever they want."

(This came out way longer than intended, I don't know if all the one shots are gonna be this long ;-;)

[csainz5]

hello! i saw your requests were open and wanted to pop in! i have a bit of a weird? idk request, where it’s like max verstappen x reader first where it ends with angst, and then she ends w carlos endgame?? maybe a whole lotta lover boy feels from carlos and ‘oh i fucked up something great’ feels from max, like essentially carlos that has been silently lining throughout readers relationship w max too?? i’m so sorry if this confused you! i loved ur previous carlos sainz fic!! 🤍🤍

BLOOD FLOWS RED

genre: fluff; light smut

pairing: bestfriend!max x reader; carlos x reader

summary: max constantly fucking up comes in no better time for carlos.

word count: 3.7k (my longest fic so far 💀)

warnings: angst, slight loverboy feels from max if you squint. voyeur max? not really but kinda ig and no beta we die like the ferrari fans we are 🫡 google translate ass spanish, forgive me 😞🫶

author notes: OMG ANON YOU ARE A GENIUS!!! I LOVED THIS REQUEST AND I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING IT. but small change tho, max x reader isn’t rlly like a proper relationship. anyways, hope u guys enjoy 😘😘😘

you were both 10 when you first met. your parents had been friends for a while by then, and they decided that they would place you and max in the same school. the two of you instantly kicked it off. it was like you guys were meant to be friends. you always shared the same opinions, the same preferences and all.

school with max was fun. the best, infact. the both of you hit it off well since the first time you met and had been inseperable (and insufferable) since. it was practically known to everyone that if max were to take a seat, the one beside it instantly belonged to you. you two had different friend circles, yes. But you were definitely each others best friend regardless.

highschool. highschool was a turning point in your friendship. although it was still as magical as it was, max’s attention at that time drifted between girls and racing. the former, burnt your heart with jealousy. everytime he ditched plans with you for his new girlfriend, you secretly prayed to god they would break up so you could have him all to yourself. The latter however, you didnt mind so much. you were always a fan of racing, and it only bought you two closer. you still remember go karting with max like it was yesterday. even if he was always the one to win, you weren’t too far behind, always coming it right after him. your deepest secrets, your highs and lows, your intrests, and everything about you was known to max, and max only. everyone would see you with him all the time, so no guys would ever approach you in school. Its not like you really minded it though, because max’s girlfriends only ever lasted two weeks at the most, and you guys would find your way back to each other.

You found solace in the unwavering friendship you shared with Max . Growing up together, navigating the twists and turns of life side by side, your bond evolved into something deeper over the years. You were always hopelessly in love with Max, but you concealed your feelings, afraid of risking the precious friendship you had cherished oh so much. Everyone but max could see it. I mean how couldnt they? you were always like a lost puppy around the paddock, finding your way to max. Much like your races, you would always find your way right behind him. it was clear in the way you looked at him, with stars in your eyes. How your voice went slightly higher when you were around him. How you relax when you’re with him. How you’re the loudest person during a race, always screaming his name as he raced by. Everyone felt sorry for you, really. Because in return to all of your affections was nothing but a cold and stoic response. Don’t get me wrong, Max definitely loved spending time with you, probably moreso than anyone else, but it was nothing in comparison to your admiration for him.

Afterall, in the world of Formula 1, where speed and competition reigned supreme, there was so space for screw ups. you needed to work hard for what you want and you needed to be cunning. and for max, nothing was as important as winning this year’s championship and more to come, so you’ve become used to his behaviour. he was quick, ruthless and on the top, and he wasn’t about to let anything get in the way of his success. so even though it stung when you could see how little you mattered to him over the sport, you convinced yourself it was okay. Because this was max’s dream since he was little, and whats a wish to date a boy over a pursuit for the championship but a speck of dust.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you watched Max prepare for yet another exhilarating race. Your heart raced in sync with the roaring engines, anticipation filling the air. Deep down, you yearned for Max to realize the depths of your affection, but maybe it was too much to ask for, you think. He was always too caught up in his relentless pursuit of victory. Everyone saw it, even the rugged and striking driver of ferrari, with the number 55 adorned on his red suit.

Max insisted you leave him alone for a moment, so he could gather his thoughts before the race. “Are you sure, max?” “please, just go” reluctantly, you agreed and went into the paddock club. you settle into the couch and wallow to yourself. you just wanted to be there with him so you could calm his nerves, why was he acting unlike himself? you gather that recently this is all thats been happening. you always go behind him, wanting to be with him at all times, hoping to be the centre of his attention, but he stands like a stonewall. you’ve grown tired of it really. But come on, you knew you would find your way back to him again. You were infact in love with him since you knew what love was, weren’t you?

You get startled when a hand waves in front of your face “helloo?” “oh my god im so sorry” “no worries” he shoots you a cheeky smile. “did you need anything carlos?” “nothing, i just wanted to ask if i could sit by you” “yeah ofcourse, you didnt need to ask” honestly, this was the most you’ve ever spoken with carlos, so you were confused by his sudden intrest in you. but really, it wasn’t sudden at all. too absorbed into the grumpy redbull driver, you never noticed a tall figure clad in red lurk behind you two. He had seen it all. His eyes burned with rage everytime he saw you with max. What did he ever do to deserve you?

“Carlos? mate where the hell were you? you need to come to the garage, hurry up” charles says, appearing out of thin air “i’ll see you later, okay?” “Bye sainz” Looking back at you, carlos runs away behind the monagasque. you smile to yourself at the sudden attention from carlos. Atleast he distracted you, right?

yeah right. your nerves were all over the place the second the red lights blinked, and the race began. max was so off his game today, whats wrong with him? he was so far behind this race that even the alfa romeo cars had been ahead of him. it was his first race lately where he was behind a ferrari for once. you felt your heart thump as you wince, you know how much shit redbull & max’s father give him on the offchance that he isnt the best in the game. he didn’t deserve it, you think. he doesn’t deserve the shit they put him through. since this was the start of the season, everyone was very anticipated to see the result, to see who is going to be this years leading drivers.

you catch your eyes drifting towards one specific car though, and its not the redbull one you’ve always got your eyes on. the person leading the first race of the season happens to be the man that youve last talked to. carlos. you hold your breath, and blink for just a moment and there you see it, carlos gets the pole position. you dont know whether to be happy or not, a feeling you’re unfamiliar with makes your gut twinge. were you happy with the results? as much as you’d like to convince yourself otherwise, it was true. for some reason carlos winning made you feel proud, but in a split second you turn your eyes back to the circuit. max had gotten p7.

it was the night of that day that max had seen you under a different light. your look for the party had caught the eyes of everyone there, and unfortunately for max, even the eyes of a certain latino were set on you. Carlos was the first person you noticed the moment you stepped into the club. the ferrari pair had rented out the entire club for that night, celebrating their p1 & p2 standings. you instinctively go towards Carlos, talking him up about his big win. “Sainz, that overtake on lap 35? Blew my mind.” “you must’ve been attentive on me to catch that” he jokes, his chest rumbling with laughter. “oh come on everyone’s talking about it” “maybe. but so are you, and thats not very common” “I give credit where credit is due, what can i say?” you giggle, taking a flute of champagne. “hey, how come you aren’t with max? i ask only because this is the first time you’ve come outside that circle” he asks, slightly avoiding eye contact with you. “well, i guess you could say i just found someone more worthy of my time” “Oh..?” clearly amused with your answer, carlos decided that he’s not going to let you leave his side. He had a taste of it, and he knew he couldn’t let go just yet.

2 drinks become 4, and 4 drinks become 8 when you decide that you are done being the quiet girl behind max. you think that it’s time that you let go, live the moment for yourself, and yourself only. okay, and maybe Carlos too. conversations with him were just so light and breezy, you didnt have to hold yourself back hoping you’d be molded into the kind of girl he wants. it was obvious that he was interested in you as is. “Carlos” “yes, cariño?” “How come ive never spoken to you before?” “You know, actually you have” he wasn’t wrong, but that was just small talk at events. This? This was different. you knew it. He knew it. “No, no i mean like.. this” you say, speech slurred, hand reaching to brush his hair. “You’re driving me crazy, mi vida” he chokes out, eyes closed and a sigh escaping his lips. “Carlos..” you feel like you cant breath as you say, “Help me forget him” by this point of your conversation you had realised that he did, infact notice things about you. Maybe even in a way no one else did. you raise your eyes to meet his and you lose yourself in their charm. his brown eyes with specks of gold drew you in more than you’d like to admit. “Hermosa, when you have me,” he raises your chin up “You will be sober when you have me, and you wont be forgetting it any time soon”wind gets caught up in your throat at his bold statement.

“Come on, let loose carlos join me!!” by this point it was the alcohol talking, not you. “okay okay how about we get you home now?” “oh shut up im just getting started” “no you’re not, come with me” carlos says as he throws your arm around his shoulder to support you. “fuck, is she okay man? i can take her to her house just leave her with me” max say’s, finally emerging after eyeing you both all night. “don’t hold your breath mate, she’s going home with me”

you wake up the next morning with the worst headache, which only gets worse when you realise you can’t recognise the room you’re in and the clothes you’re wearing aren’t yours. you shoot your head up as you hear the door open. Carlos? wait a second. did you and he..? “Carlos, did we—“ “Did you want us to?” “Oh my god. OH MY GOD??” “Calm down im just messing with you, no we didn’t do anything. i just had to change your clothes because you puked all over them” this was so embarrassing you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes.

“im so sorry, i really am. i didnt think i would let go that much yesterday.” “Don’t worry, i had fun. plus its nice seeing you not be so timid” your cheeks flush at his compliment. Fuck. i abandoned max yesterday, you thought, booking a cab to his house as you pack your stuff. “Youre not seriously booking a cab right now, are you?” “Not all of us come from Generational wealth, Carlos” you say, hoping you get connected to a driver as soon as possible. “No, no. you’re coming with me.” he says, taking his car keys and showing you the way to the garage. The moment you arrive at max’s house, you see an unfamiliar pair of heels by his shoes.

you knock on the door “Max?” No answer.“Max??” no answer yet again. you use your keys to open the door. “I didn’t expect you to come at this time” he says, his hand over a girl who you barely recognise’s shoulder. “Who’s this, max?” “It doesn’t matter, she was just about to leave” the woman looks confused but exits, mumbling something to max as she leaves. “Whos that, your conquest of the week?” you ask the second you hear the door click. “Why do you care? you must’ve had fun whoring out with the ferrari boys yesterday anyways.” He didnt mean for it to sound as harsh as it did, but what was done was done. Seriously? “Fuck you max. i’ve always been with you every second of every day and you don’t appreciate me for a moment. you constantly ditch me for these random fucking girls who you know are just with you because you’re in redbull. And i let myself go for one night. One fucking night and you’re on my back calling me a whore? you know what? i am tired. i am done with your bullshit. Maybe ferrari is better after all, huh?”

“You don’t understand my point” “what point max? what fucking point? Are you blind or do you just convince yourself to ignore the fact that ive been in love with you since we started talking? Do you know how much it hurt me to walk in your shadow all these years hoping you would notice that i was there for you? to notice that i was the one for you?” “You love me?” he sounds heartbroken saying it, but you’re on an adrenaline rush and don’t take note of it. you could feel your feelings for him fading more and more as you spoke your feelings out to max. “No. not anymore.” “Fuck. i never- i never thought, fuck.” “guess you just realised it too late mate” a voice speaks up behind you. “Lets go back, i cant stand to see his face.” you spit, with venom lacing your words as they sunk into max’s heart like a dagger.

After the incident with max, You realised that the night with the ferrari driver would be the start of something much, much bigger than you had expected. somewhere in between the races the 33 on your shirts slowly turned into 55. You didnt have to tell max you’ve moved on, it was clear as day. Carlos had gifted you a bracelet, a custom cartier one with the initials c.s adorned by a small pendant of a chili. everyone on the paddock could see that max was history to you. By this point it was also famously known that you had become Carlos’s girl. you didn’t mind the chatter though, you were so happy with carlos, he made you feel things that no one had been able to make you feel. he was gentle, and understanding. But at the same time, he knew exactly how to treat you, and the fact that you liked to be treated a little rough, once in a while, and he played it like a charm.

Your situationship with him was quick to blossom into a relationship, the best one you’ve ever been in. Days with Carlos were magical. he was crazy for you, as were you for him. you were so used to people stepping all over you that carlos treating you the way you deserved to be treated caught you off gaurd at times, but you grew attached to that quality of him. he made sure that he was the best man for you, and that you were treated exactly how you deserved to be. you noticed that you didnt even ask him for anything, he miraculously knew exactly what you wanted, and he delivered seamlessly. You had drifted significantly from max, but you didn’t mind anymore. Carlos was the only one for you and there were no doubts about it.

This particular morning was that of the emilia- romagnia grand prix, with you by the ferrari garage with carlos. everyone there had become used to you at this point, charles and some of the engineers becoming some of your best mates. Right now you were in carlos’s room, sitting on the bed as you watched him get ready. it was a home race for the ferrari boys. “What?” carlos talks over the phone, clearly upset with whatever he’s heard. you sit up straighter at his sudden change in demeanour. “Fuck. guess there’s nothing we can do huh?” he says, moments before he hangs up. “It’s canceled. the race is canceled because of a flood.” “What? Im so sorry to hear that Carlos, i know how much this race means to you.” you say, walking up to him and fixing up his shirt.

“Is there anything i can do to make you feel better?” memories of that night rush back into your head. you take in a sharp breath remember what carlos told you that day. “I’m sober now” “You remember that?” he looks into your eyes, his own shifting into a darker look. “I couldn’t for a moment forget it” you pull his collar in towards yourself “you little minx, me estás matando” “Lets see if you’re a man of your word, sainz” you dare to say. “you’re gonna wish you never challenged me, hermosa.”

His lips crash against yours as he pulls you up to jump onto him, legs wrapped around him as you take him in, in all his glory. your brain becomes foggy, and a thousand diffrent scenarios run around your head and at once, the all stop, Leaving your head a blank space. you run your hands through his hair, breathless. he walks you both over to the bed, his lips never leaving yours as unsaid words get conveyed to you. i want you. he gently places you on the bed, getting onto his knees.

You pull away from him for a moment, just a moment. you needed to get comfortable into the bed, and even the split second away from him makes you grow impatient. you look down to see him frantically trying to pull your shorts off you. Frustrated, you pull him by his neck back to you, kissing him with a rush you’ve never experienced before. you close your eyes, his wandering hands feeling making you feel sensitive all over. even a harmless rub against your thigh ticks you off. the whimper youve been suppressing comes out into the kiss, making Carlos feel as though he was losing his mind. he couldn’t take it anymore. he wanted you, he wanted you so badly he felt like a teenager about to cum in his pants.

All you wanted was to scream his name, loud enough for the entire hotel to hear, and he, wanted to listen to them on repeat like they were the best musical piece ever created. he was drunk on lust. “Can i?” you nod with all your might, you couldn’t handle it anymore. “Use your words, mi amor” “Yes, yes. please i want it so bad carlos, please.” “God, you sound so angelic begging for me right now.” Just as he was about to take off his top, the two of you hear a series of knocks on your door.

“Are you in here? its max” “Why is he here?” just as you were about to cuss him out, carlos signals you that hes got it covered. He picks you up, making you put your legs over his torso again. “Carlos? what are you-“ he shushes you, a finger falling over your swollen lips. just as you reach the room door, he clashes his lip’s against yours again. he slowly takes off the lock on the door, leaving max to think he can come in.

max is greeted by the two of you feverishly making out as he opens the door. you and carlos pay him no mind though, as if you couldn’t even see him. “Fuck you guys” He shouts as he bangs the door on his way out.

[hlficlibrary]

HL Fic Library 🩷 Mpreg Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

🩷 Say Something by @kingsofeverything {E, 105k}

At fifty years old and recently divorced, Omega Harry Styles isn't interested in dating. When his doctor suggests a heat and rut matching service, he signs up out of necessity. It’s the only use he has for an Alpha in his life.

Twenty-eight-year-old Alpha Louis Tomlinson aims to change that.

🩷 I Get To Love You by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 {E, 83k}

A one night stand leaves Harry with a permanent reminder of the night he spent with a stranger.

Louis has no idea who the handsome stranger he took to bed is... until his friends make a shocking discovery.

A baby is on the way, and Louis and Harry have nine months to get to know each other before they become a family...

🩷 I like the way you say my name (when you soak it in grace) by louisismycat / @liminalkittyfics {E, 73k}

“It’s like I’m fucking orbiting around you, you know? Like you’re some huge, beautiful planet, and I’m a piece of space junk lucky enough to be pulled in by you somehow, and now I can’t leave, even if I wanted to. And I really fucking don’t want to leave.”

OR Louis is transferred to a new city to temporarily cover for his counterpart while he is on maternity leave for the next six months.

His new co-workers talk endlessly about Harry, the omega who he’s covering for. And Louis finds himself jealous of whatever alpha as snatched him up.

Until he learns Harry is actually an unmated omega three months out from becoming a single parent.

🩷 Little by Little by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense {E, 65k}

Harry Styles is an omega who works at the London Planetarium, has lived in the same flat for ages, and is happy enough on his own. When he gets home from his first (horrible) attempt at dating in years, a new pregnant neighbor knocks on his door after smelling his cooking. He and Louis quickly become close, but their friendship gets complicated when Harry begins questioning who he is and what he likes.

Or Harry discovers figuring out who you are is more complicated than a potato metaphor.

🩷 Falling For Me Won't Be A Mistake by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings {M, 58k}

Harry is married to his job and so overworked that he doesn't know how to stop. All it takes is a forced Hawaiian get-a-away, the warm tropical breeze of the island, and the most beautiful, elusive man he's ever seen to make him remember what living is like outside of work. Well, that, and the little souvenir he accidentally takes home with him.

🩷 Just for Tonight (I can be yours) by @sadaveniren {E, 42k}

Harry, prince of Cestrescir, has been betrothed to Ludvic, prince of Yorvik, since birth. He'd accepted a loveless marriage as his duty to his country, until an accident threw him in the path of a gentle alpha

🩷 I Think You're Already Home by @jaerie {E, 38k}

Seeing Louis Tomlinson today, it would be hard to guess that he was ever once a member of the world's most famous boyband. These days he doesn't even the leave his own house. The truth is he can't leave his own house. He can't even remember the last time just standing at an open door didn't send him into a debilitating panic attack. But, against his friend's advice, Louis is ready to add meaning to his life again. He's ready to start a family. So what if he doesn't have an omega? There are plenty of surrogacy services just waiting to help the rich and famous become parents. He just has to find the right one for the job.

🩷 Endgame by @brightgolden {E, 38k}

Harry has been told all his life how grateful he should be for being born as a male omega, and how blessed their people were because the heir to the throne would be carried by The King.

What they neglected to tell Harry was what would happen if he failed to become pregnant.

OR Where omega Crown Prince Harry Styles is trying and failing to get pregnant for four years, but all that is about to change when courtesan alpha Louis Tomlinson comes into the equation.

🩷 Baby, What a Big Surprise by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou {E, 33k}

As Harry settles into his seat, self-consciously adjusting his shirt over his slightly distended stomach, he can’t help but wonder how he got himself into all this. But he knows, of course he knows. It isn’t exactly easy to forget the moment that changed his entire life forever.

It all started with a party.

Or, the one where shy, quiet Harry has no idea he's a carrier, and a one night stand with the most popular boy in school shows him just how wrong he was.

Featuring Lottie as Harry's best friend, Niall as her boyfriend, and, of course, Louis as the popular boy with a soft spot for his little sister's quirky friend.

🩷 Oops, Baby, I Love You (In That Order) by @fallinglikethis {E, 25k}

Later that night, when he’s lying in bed thinking of all the things he’s longed for in his life, he can’t stop hearing Fizzy’s words in his head. Who says you have to get married?

It’s true, Louis wants to get married one day, to have a spouse to encourage his crazy promotional ideas for his book shop, to have someone to cuddle into at night, someone who will love him even on his moody days. But she’s absolutely right, isn’t she? Who says he has to have that before he can have a baby?

 When he finally falls asleep, he sleeps restfully, having made a very important decision about his future.

 Husband or no, Louis Tomlinson is going to have a baby.

Or The minute Louis Tomlinson decides he don’t need no man to start a family, Harry Styles literally falls into his arms.

🩷 deep in my heart i know there's only you by ballsdeepinjesus {E, 23k}

"Will you do it?” Harry whispers. Louis has to lean closer just to hear him. He furrows his brows and shakes his head, not knowing what Harry means. “Would you donate for me?”

Louis is dumbfounded. “I’m sorry, I thought you just asked if I’d donate my sperm. Can you repeat yourself?”

[harry and louis are best friends who engage in some platonic baby-making. very platonic.]

🩷 tread lightly on my ground by fairytalelights {E, 20k}

No, that's the tragic part of this, the part that makes Harry feel like the universe is playing a cruel joke on him. The father of his baby is exactly right, exactly who he always imagined himself having kids with. He just imagined them married, bonded. Happy. He didn't imagine them barely talking, tip-toeing around each other because neither of them is brave enough to talk about what happened between them. He didn't imagine the father of his child not loving him back.

or, the one where Harry is having Louis' baby, but Louis doesn't know it's his.

🩷 Souls; Plural, Parallel by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {T, 19k}

Soulmates are rare, the sort of rare that means everyone has a story about a friend's sister's coworker or a brother's roommate's cousin. But the fact of the matter is that most people never meet theirs. It's unfortunate then, that Louis finds out the hard way that he met his soulmate in a club, and the guy never texted him back.

🩷 Come In and Change My Life by lightswoodmagic / @lightwoodsmagic {E, 12k}

He’d had the same neighbours since he’d moved into the building, a lovely, wealthy couple in their late sixties who had always invited him around for tea on Sundays. Martha had dropped off homemade biscuits the day he’d moved in, so Harry figured he may as well repeat the sentiment. He could hear someone getting closer to the door just as a flush ran through his body; oh fuck. His heat was close, too close to be knocking on a potentially unknown alpha’s door, but it was too late. The door swung open, and Harry’s mouth dropped. He’d never been overly interested in football, couldn’t find the fascination in watching men run around after a ball for hours aside from their uniforms, but he knew who this was. Louis Tomlinson, alpha, captain of Manchester United, star in a number of Harry’s heat addled fantasies, was his new next-door neighbour.

Or, Harry and Louis become friends when Harry looks after Louis' cat during away games, until one night at a party changes everything between them. It's just a shame Louis' going to be away for the FIFA World Cup for three months.

🩷 One Minute Old by crimsontheory / @ireallysawanangel {E, 9k}

“And he left you,” Niall interjects, the venom clear in his voice. “That asshole left you high and dry and broke your heart.”

Of course, Niall remembers that. Louis may have told him everything—minus the sexy parts—and Naill, being the overprotective mother friend that he is, took offence to that. “He didn’t break my heart,” Louis refutes. He was hurt and confused by it but he wasn’t heartbroken. And apparently, he’s still hurt by it if the way it felt seeing Harry yesterday was any indication.

“You were pretty smitten with him and then you spent days moping around your apartment after he left. I think that’s called being heartbroken,” Niall points out.

“Okay, okay, I was upset. We get it,” Louis says, trying to move past it. This isn’t ‘poke fun at Louis’ emotions hour’. “Anyway, I called to tell you that he showed up at my door yesterday.”

“To beg for your forgiveness I hope.”

“No, he’s—” Louis stops, unsure how to phrase it. “He’s pregnant. And I’m the father.”

Or, a one-night stand of Louis' that he never thought he'd see again shows up at his door six months later.

🩷 Him & I by notasawrap {NR, 8k}

Louis inhales deeply and... "Maybe we should divorce." He lets go anxiously, without looking at Harry. He can't, Louis can't do this and pretend that it doesn't hurt, that his omega is not dying, but he knows it must be for the best. They have not been working for a while and Louis doesn't think the alpha wants that either. Besides, now there are more things at stake and Louis wants to let go before it's too late for both of them.

Maybe Harry even has some lover and although Louis loves Harry, Louis doesn't think Harry loves him back. Not anymore.

"Why would we do that?" Harry says and sounds really dismayed at the idea. Louis doesn't understand.

or Louis thinks Harry has a lover and he's willing to let's Harry go to be happy with someone else even if it hurts the three of them.

🩷 Game Changer by @neondiamond {E, 6k}

“Did the doctor say what was wrong with you?” “He thought I was pregnant,” Louis scoffs. “Told me to go home and take a test, a pregnancy test, Haz. Can you imagine the nerve it takes for him to even think that?” Harry looks lost in his thoughts for a few seconds. “Did you? Take a test, I mean?” “Of course I didn’t.”

OR: A couple months before playing in his first long-awaited World Cup, Louis finds out he’s pregnant. Harry’s there for the ride.

🩷 The World Will Open Its Arms by @lululawrence {NR, 4k}

Harry scrubbed at the countertop. It wasn’t even dirty, but it was three in the morning and the girl who was supposed to relieve him over an hour ago never showed. He was now on hour ten of his shift and his feet hurt and his back ached and he was trying not to cry, thanks to more fucking judgmental alpha truckers who could smell it on him.

Of course they could. He practically lived at the diner. The entire place reeked of it.

Unbonded pregnant omega.

🩷 seven, seven by @nouies {NR, 1k}

“Hello, baby girl,” Harry says as soon as the nurse places the bundle of joy into his arms. “We’ve been dying to meet you.”

🩷 Holy Guacamole! by bluegreenish / @greenblueish {G, 666 words}

Louis needs to tell Harry something and wearing an avocado Halloween costume is the perfect way to do it.

[siflshonen]

I’d love to interpret bkdk as romantic but I will be honest, it is difficult to do when a het ship is being hinted at more explicitly. I’m still glad Horikoshi did not include a full-on confession though. We can do what we want in fics without having to rework canon.

Love your posts, thank you for your wonderful insights into bkdk. Your meta is always well-done.

I know this ask was originally meant for someone else, and you’re absolutely right that bakuhatsufallinlove does fantastic meta. You’re very wise to see how great of a job they do and it’s kind of you to say so. It’s also very kind of you to read my posts.

I’m about to not be quite so kind.

I hate Izuocha. And I’m annoyed by the insinuation that Ochako breaking down in tears over Himiko to Izuku - her big moment of bearing her emotions out in the open to him - is seen as an endgame romance, especially since the only other detail we have to go off of is Ochako smiling at Izuku in their hero suits when Todoroki is kinda doing the same thing, AND when I should DAMN WELL hope Ochako and Izuku are still friends and looking out for each other, especially since they bonded over the traumatic deaths of those they failed to save.

I’m insulted that Ochako’s confessions to Himiko are disregarded like that, or the tumultuous chaos she grapples with in her heart is brushed aside. I’m insulted by the insinuation that Ochako’s known love of seeing happy, smiling people is not acknowledged and instead her expressing joy over seeing that on Izuku’s face is painted over as being implied, for-sure romantic endgame. Maybe it is, sure. Anything is possible. I’m sure Himiko wants the best for Ochako and for her to be happy, and would probably think it was romantic that her feelings also reached Izuku by way of Ochako as being someone they mutually loved.

But Himiko is dead and it ripped Ochako apart, and her reaction to that is the last in-depth look we get at her feelings. Izuku recognizing that Ochako is a hero in her own right (not a heroine, aka a damsel for the hero to save and then end up with romantically per Japanese storytelling roles, not just “a female hero” like we think of it in English) is gratifying and wonderful. And I’m insulted by the insinuation that just because Izuku acknowledges that Ochako is and has been his hero and always saved him that this must mean that they are implied to be the romantic endgame. God forbid they mutually admire each other and respect each other and the story just ends there, and god forbid Izuku calling her his hero sends a totally different message.

Now, as for Katsuki. You cannot tell me that he doesn’t have some kind of deep feelings for Izuku. @bakuhatsufallinlove has posted extensively about unspoken feelings with a likewise unspoken understanding are common for Japanese romances, but I’ll admit I’m not here to talk about that.

Do you really want to tell me that Horikoshi-sensei allowing Katsuki and Izuku to keep their arms and have an implied handhold at the end doesn’t mean as much as whatever the fuck Ochako is doing in the final panel?

In Naruto, which BNHA takes many cues from, Sasuke and Naruto had their arms ripped off because the editor didn’t approve of the two of them holding hands in panel. Apparently, that’s too romantic and inappropriate for the male leads of a shonen. Given that, how interesting that the doctor recommended that Katsuki’s hand-holding arm be amputated. How interesting that Katsuki refuses. How interesting that Katsuki refuses while thinking not just of All Might, probably not really of All Might, but Izuku. How interesting that Izuku also keeps both arms, and we as readers are very certain they held hands even if it is not shown.

How interesting that Katsuki is not just the heart of Izuku’s mech suit project (and, in some respects, of the class,) but of Izuku’s image of victory, Izuku’s “Pro Hero with a quirk” origin, the heart of what he believes a real hero is like, and the literal actual heart of what he wanted to defend from ShigAFO multiple times over. How interesting that Katsuki’s story is in part him learning how to not be a burden to Izuku or used against him like, say, a heroine-damsel-in-distress might be used, AND it is also in part him learning to come to terms with his feelings for Izuku. In fact, we spend basically the whole manga dwelling on this with him. It’s that important that he reconciled Izuku with his heart and desires.

Izuku, who is so tearfully happy that Katsuki wants to be with him for the rest of their lives in whatever form that takes, even when they weren’t sure he was going to have a quirk and be able to be Katsuki’s superhero rival. Izuku, who is so happy to be with Kacchan and the class as a hero again, in part BECAUSE it is with Kacchan………….and everyone else on the next page.

Nothing is for sure. Nobody kissed or got married or whatever, sure. But you really want to tell me Izuocha is more heavily implied based on the ending?

Thanks for the ask. I’m sorry you feel that way. Get off my lawn.