#and goes oh yeah i forgot i had these in here and kinda like. halfway held them out to me so i could see and i was like

[ghoultrifle]

Phantom is trying to do maths because he wants to be the smartest ghoul like Aether. Swiss comes over and asks what he’s doing. Phantom starts explaining subspace (maths version), to which Swiss responds they should explore the good kind of subspace instead

Jimothy once again pulling through as my favourite maths nerd, everyone else please enjoy learning about subspaces <3 This was so much fun to write but i am incredibly impatient so this has not been proofread and will not be my best work, sorry not sorry! I kinda forgot about the whole subspace thing halfway through but I do not have the energy to go back soooo

Swiss is trans because I said so! cunt, clit, dick, cock used.

Phantom was laying on his bed, stomach on the mattress as he kicked his legs in the air, twirling an eraser pensively in his hands. His mouth was occupied with the tip of his pencil, gnawing on the bitter wood, his free hand supporting the weight of his chin. Shoulder-length locks kept falling, clouding his vision. He didn’t care, he was fed up of learning about subspaces.

“Why do I care if U is a subspace of V? And why do I need to keep proving it?” He pouted, only himself to hear the complaints in the now dim light of his room, the midday sun now sinking below the horizon.

Phantom was rubbing out the workings for the latest attempt at the question, he kept making silly mistakes: misreading the question or forgetting how to do simple maths.

“Stupid fucking ghoul, you’ll never be as smart as Aether, just face it!” The quintessence ghoul cried out to the void. But the void replied…

The young ghoul’s door opened, it was Swiss. “What’s wrong, Baby Bat?” He questioned, frowning at Phantom.

“Can’t do this fucking work. Every time I think I’m getting somewhere, something else goes wrong! What’s wrong with me, Swiss?”

“Oh hey, it’s alright, Bug. Nothing’s wrong with you. Looks like you’ve been here all day, you’re probably just in your own head.” Swiss patted Phantom on the back, alternating between pressure and smooth strokes. “What’re you trying to do anyway? Are chores not enough for you?”

“‘m learning about subspaces!” Phantom replied, a passion reignited in his voice.

“Learning about what?!” If Swiss had a drink he would have comically spat it out all over the ghoul next to him.

“Yeah, I enrolled in an online maths course ‘cause I wanted to be smart like Aether and Omega. This week’s work is all about subspaces. A subspace is a subset of a vector space that is itself a vector space but also satisfies the three subspace criteria.” Phantom ranted. Swiss was too entranced in the energy of the younger ghoul to stop him.

“The first criterion is that the subset can’t be empty, the second cri –” The multi ghoul was pulled out of his trance as a fiendish idea swirled around his mind, hands roughly grabbing Phantom’s cheeks as he kissed him hard - anything to shut the other ghoul up.

Swiss pulled away, taking in Phantom’s look of awe, “Sorry Tommy, maths is a sore spot for me, can’t listen to it.” He apologised.

“How about we explore the good kind of subspace instead, hmm?” The older ghoul asked, gently coaxing Phantom to sit up as he swiped the ghoul’s hard work off the bed, landing crumpled on the floor. That was a problem for future them.

“Oh okay but I really do need to finish that work,” Phantom replied, worriedly gazing at his hours of effort lying on the floor, Swiss’ calloused thumb rubbing his shoulder.

“Hmm Baby, it’s worse than I thought. You really do need to get fucked dumb,” the multi ghoul cooed. His brown eyes raked over the almost shaking ghoul beside him. Swiss would be lying if he said he didn’t have a thing for smart guys; there’s a reason he and Aether always shared a hotel room on tour. But he could also tell when someone just needed to be reminded how stupid they are, pliant under his touch and unable to form a coherent thought.

Through many a session with Aether, the multi ghoul had honed his quintessence, now at the ability of a teenage ghoul, and a horny one at that. “I’m gonna use a bit of magick, alright? Can you remember your safe actions?” Swiss asked in a loving tone, like honey lined his vocal cords, his words coating Phantom in a sickly sweet embrace.

“Mhm Sir, pickle or three leg taps if I can’t speak.”

Swiss shuddered at the honorific, seems Phantom wouldn’t need much help dropping today, his control already slipping at the mere suggestion of a scene.

“Good boy. Now let’s talk about our subspace criteria. First rule, a sub’s head must be empty.”

The older ghoul extended his fingertips to Phantom’s now-bare chest. Quintessence oozing from his digits, reaching in, shoving all the work on Phantom’s metaphorical desk onto the floor, leaving the ghoul devoid of thoughts.

“How are you feeling, my precious?” 

Phantom could only stare at him through lidded eyes, mouth agape as he attempted a nod. Swiss knew the answer to his rhetorical question, however. Phantom’s trousers were tented, the ghoul shifting where he was sat in an attempt to get some friction on his filled out cock.

Every movement was primal, a base instinct not tied down by societal rules. In any other scenario Phantom would be horrified at the blush working its way across his cheeks, unable to hide it with his leaden arms. Right now though, he isn’t even aware of his body’s reaction to the touch.

“Oh such a slut for me, aren’t you? Can’t even tell me how good you’re feeling. How hard you are in those tight little pants. Already leaking and I haven’t even told you the rest of the rules.” Swiss teased.

The quintessence ghoul’s blush only grew a deeper purple, contrasting his mottled skin. His head was vacant, half-formed thoughts fleeting by at incredible speeds, long disappeared over the horizon by the time he tried to acknowledge them.

“Second rule, a sub must be obedient,” a flustered Swiss declared, thinking on his feet now. He wanted to commit to the bit but didn’t think he’d get Phantom on board. “Do you think you can be a good boy for me?” he asked, knowing the words would get his dumb toy’s dick leaking as he cradled the smaller ghoul’s face, his hand easily reaching both ears.

As promised an almost imperceptible damp spot started to form on Phantom’s tight, dark pants, outlining the head of his cock. It was begging for release, sensitive and oh so hard. The quintessence ghoul fluttered his eyelids at the other, his way of saying Yes Daddy, I’ll be such a good boy for you.

Swiss was equally as affected, his clit rock solid while his cunt was creating a very sticky problem in Swiss’ boxers. But tonight wasn’t about him, it was about helping Phantom let go in every way possible. So he continued to let the wet patch grow as he recited the third rule.

“The third rule for a sub to be just perfect is for them to float away. Let me take care of you, bug.”

As Swiss was quoting the rule he reached down to unzip Phantom’s trousers, giving his weeping cock a few quick strokes through the red boxers, no doubt borrowed from Dewdrop. Phantom had just enough of a hold on reality to let out a choked moan as Swiss finally touched him. A small whimper came out when the multi ghoul removed his hand.

Swiss wasn’t a ghoul known for his patience, and that extended to the bedroom. It didn’t take long for him to decide that tonight Phantom would have to get off while pleasuring the multi ghoul because he’ll be damned if the new summon doesn’t have the hottest mouth. Of course the award for physically hottest mouth went to Dewdrop but Phantom’s soft, plump lips and limber tongue won the award for most pleasurable.

Swiss unbuckled his belt as he slid off his bottoms in one smooth motion, only tripping as the fabric got stuck around his ankle. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t like the dazed ghoul on the bed could react in any way, still heavily under the influence of Swiss’ quintessence.

The multi ghoul stood there, dick jutting out between his folds. He always described himself as an outie, and he was proud of it. Phantom seemed even prouder, drool spilling from his lips as he watched Swiss give himself a few tugs before swiping at himself and giving it a taste.

“Like what you see, hmm?” Swiss mocked, reaching out to Phantom’s chest again to partially release him from the throes of his magick. “Well how about you show Daddy a good time then, baby bat.”

And with that Swiss was pushing down on Phantom’s ribs, forcing the younger ghoul onto his back as he straddled his midriff, trapping Phantom’s leaking cock beneath him.

“Ah Swiss, feels so mmm good.” The quintessence ghoul whined, in control of his voice once again.

“Oh, bug, toys don’t talk.” Swiss frowned, trying his best not to let his excitement show. He agonisingly inched his way up Phantom’s body, leaving a trail of slick behind him before his cunt arrived at those delicate lips. “Let’s put that mouth to good use instead, my love.”

Swiss lowered himself gently onto Phantom’s face letting the younger ghoul lick exploratively before sliding his tongue deep inside the multi ghoul. “Eat up,” he smirked.

And Phantom did. Anything to be a good boy, the promise of a reward implicit with Swiss. He could be mean but he’d never leave a lover unsatisfied. So Phantom ate Swiss out like his life depended on it. By the way his cock was kicking, leaking pre over his happy trail, it really felt like his life did depend on it.

The skilled tongue laved against Swiss’ walls, a heady mix of spit and slick coating his insides. Phantom’s tongue occasionally departing to give kitten licks to his clit before sucking the bud whole, hollowing his cheeks to show the multi ghoul just how big he was. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“Unholy fuck Ant, forgot how good your tongue was.” Swiss pleaded, any attempt at keeping a stern demeanour now in the past.

Even with his mouth occupied, Phantom was far from quiet. He was attempting to set a ministry record in getting Swiss off, and he knew exactly what buttons to push. A little ah here mixed in with breathy moan there and Swiss was coming apart, quickly. The multi ghoul loved an expressive partner, his already large ego inflated any time someone moaned.

Phantom was beginning to flag, limbs still heavy under Swiss’ spell and tongue beginning to tire from its intense workout. The larger ghoul took pity on the whimpering ghoul, handing him a pillow from the top of the bed. It was encased in a grey cover and it was firm, Phantom needed a lot of neck support when asleep. 

Swiss craned his neck behind him to see he didn’t even need to tell the younger ghoul what to do with it, the pillow already shoved deep between his thighs as he spared all his extra energy into rocking into it.

“Fuck Phantom, such a good boy for me,” Swiss encouraged “humping that pillow so well. Bet you wish it was me sinking onto you, clenching around that lovely cock of yours as I use you.”

Both ghouls were getting close; Swiss at the sight of his partner desperately humping a pillow, and Phantom at the friction said pillow was providing. The case was covered in streaks of pre, getting more wet with each thrust of the quintessence ghoul’s ruddy cock, only spurring him on as the shame hit.

Phantom was a ghoul that got off primarily on shame. Something about doing these sinful acts with his packmates left him hard like nothing else. He learned all these rules during his summoning about how humans are supposed to act, it was ingrained in him by Papa. So now when he does anything outside the norm he feels that hot shame coursing through him, straight to his dick.

Phantom’s hips were canting up rapidly to the soft fabric of the pillow case, now a dark grey. He was unable to do anything but moan against Swiss’ folds, and hope the larger ghoul was as close as he was.

His skilled lips were assaulting Swiss’ cock, doing his best to give Swiss the best blowjob of his life as the multi ghoul’s slick ran down his chin. The t-dick was engorged as Phantom sucked and swirled his tongue around the growth. All it took was a well timed breath from Phantom, hot air engulfing his cunt as the smaller ghoul emptied his lungs. 

The sensation had Swiss cumming with a yell, Phantom quick to resume his efforts on his clit as Swiss rode out his orgasm.

“Satanas, bug, I should dumb you down more often, that was incredible.” Swiss praised as he wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. Looking down he could see the mess he made of Phantom’s face, shining, covered in his release.

Phantom was smiling back at the older ghoul, proud of his work but desperately hard and teetering on the edge. The pillow was great but he just needed more. 

“Oh were you hoping I was going to get you off?” The multi ghoul chimed, “Think again, bug. Need you to hump it like you do when you’re alone. And don’t pretend you don’t, Rain told me everything.”

His hips bucked harder at the request, humiliation setting in. “Can I move, Daddy?” he asked tentatively.

“The stage is yours, darling.” Swiss replied as he blew the ghoul a kiss, already feeling a puddle of slick forming beneath him.

The quintessence long worn off by now as the new summon manoeuvred himself onto all fours, adding the pillow to a stack between his thighs before he started thrusting his cock into the pile. Each cant left him panting and whining for more.

“Look at my little toy, getting off on a pillow like a good boy.” 

Phantom keened at the praise, spurring him on. His full body weight was on the stack of pillows now, his cock sliding easily into the creases of the fabric as his hips moved, no longer a conscious motion. He just needed to cum, soon.

It was just the wrong side of enough stimulation but he was determined to make it work, to be a good boy for Swiss.

The next time Phantom looked up, Swiss was tugging himself between his thumb and forefinger, moaning at the sight before him. That was enough to push the quintessence ghoul over the edge. He grabbed his cock harshly, no longer caring about the implicit ‘no touching’ rule that sessions with Swiss involve. As he stroked his shaft the pillow beneath him was painted a delicious white, Phantom’s head thrown back as he whined.

He knelt on the bed as he came down from his high, marvelling at the art he produced. Looking over at Swiss, he was shaking his head, a frown adorning his usually joyous face.

“Good toys don’t touch themselves.” He tutted, “Do it again.”

Phantom sighed, gripping his soft cock as he tried to coax it to life once more. The only saving grace being the whorish ghoul touching himself beside him. They were going to be here a while, Phantom definitely wouldn’t be finishing his homework tonight.

[illumiiiz]

I think there is a certain kind of special bond created between two people finding out they’ve purchased the same set of D&D dice. Whether that bond is a good or bad thing I’ve yet to find out.

[tojiot]

ooh have about the main three with the fake dating trope :D

fake dating the main three

gn!reader, cursing here and there, typos and grammatical errors to be edited, past tense - present tense swerving to be fixed.

note: i was on vacation for 2 days without internet and i have bakugo's done in my notes but my phone died before i can even save it :D this will be kinda long because i went ahead of myself and detailed it exactly how i want. this is not betaed. please do tell me if there's a non they/them pronouns in here. hope you'll enjoy this!

requests are: open!

ㅡ bakugo

i spent the whole day thinking about how he'll agree to fake date. let's just say he's the one in need.

his mom has been bothering him for a long time now. she wants to see katsuki bring home a partner for them to meet.

it's a pain in the ears and he's very TIRED so he decided to just fake date somebody.

the only person he can tolerate in class a aside from kirishima is you. he doesn't care about the other extras.

he'll search for you in the heights' lounge area and ask to talk.

"hey, can we talk?" he grumbles, "uhh, sure? do you want to talk here or somewhere private?" "somewhere private."

when you guys are in a more private area, he'd glare at you for a minute, it'll make you wonder if you did something wrong, before finally speaking.

"date me for a fucking day."

you'll snort at what he said and laugh thinking it was a joke but the annoyed and impatient look on his face says otherwise.

"wait.. are you for real?" "what do you think, shithead?"

bakugo trusts you so much that you have this significant role to play in his life.

you agreed, of course. it's the bakugo katsuki asking for your help. a once in a lifetime chance. (you just like him, stop making things up)

he brings you to the bakugo household the day after and his house is BIG big.

mitsuki, his mom, welcomes you with a big smile and a hug. he then glares at his son, "WHY ARE YOU ONLY BRINGING THIS PRETTY LITTLE CREATURE NOW, YOU BRAT?" "SHUT UP, OLD HAG! BE NICE OR I AIN'T BRINGING THEM HERE NO MORE."

masaru, who's just sitting there at the couch like nothing's happening, gives you a wave.

the dinner was good. his mom's a great cook, his father's a chatterbox. what surprised you the most was how quiet katsuki is. you're not sure why. maybe he's like this at home? quiet, calm, just serene.

"it's not everyday i see a person who can tame my brat of a son. i can see why he likes you, (y/n)." his mom beams at you, "you're pretty, a kind little one too. take care of my son, will ya?"

not knowing what to say, you smiled at her and said what's currently inside your mind, "if he'll let me, i'll take care of him for the rest of my life." you looked down, "but knowing katsuki, he doesn't need anyone to take care of him. he's strong and independent and he knows it. it'll hurt his pride if someone helps him without him asking them to." you smiled to yourself, "i just hope he knows that when he needs me, i'll always be here for him."

mitsuki smiled at you in awe. you have the mother's approval, congrats!

katsuki just stared at you with furrowed eyebrows, masaru pats his back, "good job, son. i'm happy for you."

he then murmured a protest before drinking his water.

time passed by and it's eventually your time to say goodbye to the bakugos.

mitsuki hugs you for the last time and ask you to come have dinner with them again, masaru pats your head and thanks you for being there for his son.

both of you were in a car provided by the school for safety protocols when he spoke, "did you mean it?"

you looked at him, confused, "mean what?" "what you said earlier to my mom, shithead. did you mean it?" "well, yeah. i mean it when i say i'll always be here for you."

he wore this unreadable and unclear expression on his face. he looks mad? confused? no one knows.

"why?" he asked, "why what?" "WHY DO YOU KEEP MAKING ME REPEAT MYSELF. WHY DID YOU SAY IT?" "YOU'RE A FRIEND OF MINE, THAT'S IT."

he chuckled bitterly, "a friend. that's fucking funny. i literally though you also like me for a second."

huh.. what does he mean? also? you laughed nervously, "hey, did i hear you right? thought i heard 'also' there."

"you're fucking dense, aren't you? do you want me to scream it straight at your face? i fucking like you."

you froze. yes, but embarrassment caught up and you covered your reddened face, "WHY ARE YOU SUDDENLY CONFESSING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT? WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO SAY?"

"I AIN'T EXPECTING YOU TO SAY ANYTHING, SHITHEAD!" "I LIKE YOU TOO!" "SHUT THE FUCK UP I DON'T WANT YOUR PITY OF A CONFESSION." "IT'S NOT A PITY OF A CONFESSION BUT FINE! I DON'T LIKE YOU." "OKAY THEN. I'M BRINGING SOMEONE ELSE NEXT DINNER AND TELL THE OLD HAG WE BROKE UP." "NOOOOOOO!!"

ㅡ todoroki

i was contemplating whether to have him help fake date or have him need help. it's fitting if he's the one in need so i decided just that.

he might seem dense and clueless most of the time but he's the epitome of evilness.

he talks about you all the time that's why fuyumi has taken a liking to you and asked shoto to invite you to dinner with them.

shoto sees this as a chance. he'll take advantage of the situation because he knows you won't say no.

he goes to where you are sitting, "i apologize but my sister, fuyumi, she thinks we're dating. she wants to invite you to dinner at our house later." he said that with a straight face but this mf is smirking on the inside.

"uhhh, okay? sure? but uhm, why would she think we're dating?" "she thinks everyone close to me is dating me. she's like that.. yes. fuyumi likes you the most, i think. that's.. uh, that's why she's inviting you to dinner." (I HC HIM AS A BAD LIAR)

sounds suspicious and weird, but okay? you have a lot of question in mind.

"i would go. but how should i act? why didn't you tell her we aren't dating though?" "i don't want to disappoint my sister. you can act like you're dating me, if it's fine with you. just for a day."

"sure, sure! just tell me where and what time. i'll be there." "no, you can come with me. we'll go there together."

he brings you to the todoroki household after class. their house is soooo pretty. it's a traditional japanese house.

fuyumi was the first one to greet you, with her sparkling eyes and bright smile, she held both your hands gently and said, "i'm so glad you came! i've been wanting to ask shoto to have you come eat with us. thank you for coming!"

natsuo jogged from the back and gave you a cool wave, "hey, (y/n). how was it dealing with shoto?"

you faked sighed, "awful. how did you deal with him for the last 16 years?" "we never did." "oh.... OH NO I'M SORRY!" "HAHAHA. it's fine, i'm just kidding. no biggie."

enji won't be home for the day. he's busy doing number 1 hero works.

the dinner was fun. it was the funniest dinner you have ever had.

shoto's quietness is the exact opposite of natsuo's talkativeness. that man is talkative and funny as fuck. throwing jokes everywhere. it was entertaining.

all shoto did was take care of you. he serves you all the food you point at, gets you water, he even went too close for comfort and wiped a stain just above your lips. it made you blush, yes. you don't know why but it left you lightheaded. (you're in love with him, that's why)

fuyumi.. our beautiful and beloved fuyumi.

she exposed his brother's ass.

"aww. you guys are so cute together. ah! (y/n), do you remember that time when.. uhm, kaminari was it? i forgot his name but do you remember that time where he told you, midoriya, and the girls to wear a maid costume for the festival because your class is having a maid cafe booth? shoto told me you were so pretty that time! he hated how the boys in your class looked at you like you were some sweet treat, isn't that right, shoto?"

"and do you remember when you fought bakugo at the sports festival? where it was a close fight and you gave him a hard time? shoto said you won if the decision was up to him and that you were so cool!"

and she went on and on.

shoto was red as a tomato (or even redder) beside you. he was clutching his pants as if he was asking the floor to just eat him up.

you decided to ask him about this later to not uncover the fake dating plan.

dinner ended after a little talking, fuyumi gave you leftovers to take home which you will not reject because her cooking is divine, and asked you to come again after giving you a big and warm hug.

natsuo gave you a high five and thanked you for coming. he also thanked you for laughing at his jokes. he feels like he's very funny now.

both said goodbye to shoto.

the journey back to the heights was quiet but not awkward. it seems like shoto knew you have a lot in mind.

you spoke when he's about to open the main door. "what was that?" he looked at you with a confused expression, "the one at dinner."

"ah, if it isn't obvious yet after my sister opened her mouth, i like you. i have been for a long time now." he said that with a deadpan expression, "it annoyed me at first, it annoyed me that you're in my mind whenever i try to sleep, you're in my mind everytime i wake up. it annoyed me that i want nothing more than to hold you near me, hold your hands, warm you up with my fire everytime you feel cold, hug you, kiss you." he sighed frustratedly, "i just want to do everything with you... i'm sorry. i'm not good with words."

WELL YOU DID NOT EXPECT HIM TO BE THIS STRAIGHTFORWARD.

but again, this is todoroki shoto.

"..what? shoto... i didn't know you felt that way. why didn't you tell me?" you asked him concernedly, you lifted your hand to hold his face but stopped halfway thinking maybe he doesn't want to be touched.

but then he held your hand and guided it to hold his face, "i didn't actually plan to confess but when people started talking about how good of a hero you'd become in the future and when everyone started saying they all want to date you, that's when i decided it's now or never." he looked at your eyes, "i don't want to lose this chance. that's why i started telling fuyumi stories about you and asking her what to do."

"is that why your sister thought we were dating?" "yes. she knows about how i feel for you. she told me to confess and i told her i did and that it went well. i lied to her. i don't know why."

you coughed, "so, she doesn't really think everyone close to you is dating you?" "yes." "you lied to me?" "yes, i apologize."

"you could have told me you like me too!?" "it's not that easy to confess. plus, i really wanted to know how everything will go. it went well, i'm satisfied. you like me too, right?" "i do, shoto. i like you so much." he smiled at you, that rare fucking smile he knows is pretty, "that's enough for me."

"BUT YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE OF EVERYTHING?" "yes. yes, i did." "WHAT THE HELL'S WRONG WITH YOU!!?" "date me, (y/n)" "OKAY!"

ㅡ midoriya

a lot of guys from the other class have been bothering you. they kept on asking for your number and stuff. one even sent you flowers and a box of chocolates.

you appreciate it if you're being honest. what you don't appreciate is them sticking to you the whole lunch.

you told mina what's happening and she told you that the best shot of getting off those admirers of yours is to date somebody.

you don't wanna to that though. aside from focusing on studies, you have feelings for this certain someone with green messy hair and freckles. you don't want to date someone just to use them and lie to them.

"you know, what if you just get your shit together and confess to midoriya?" "MINA, BE QUIET! SOMEONE MIGHT HEAR YOU!" "confess to midoriya!" she whispired.

"or just ask him to date you until your followers stop following you around?" kaminari interjects, "what, you mean like, fake date him?" "yeah. something like that." "you're really useful sometimes, aren't you?" "shut up, mina."

you've thought about it all night. would izuku think i'm using him? would he reject the idea? would he be mad about it?

after contemplating, you finally went out of your room and walked straight at his door. he opened it with a smile after 3 knocks.

"hey, (y/n)! how can i help you?"

you looked at him nervously. what you were about to ask is a big part to act. "i will get straight to the point. some people from the other classes have been bothering me for a while now. they keep on following me and asking for my number even though i rejected them all the time. i want to ask you if you could date me? IT'S FAKE! OF COURSE. will you please fake date me until they get off me? i, uh, i'm not taking advantage of your kindness. i promise. right?" you said with a shaking voice.

he laughed at your rambling, "no need to be nervous, (y/n)! i would love to do the honors and fake date you! it's like an undercover hero mission. it's so cool! when do we start?"

you smiled at his enthusiasms. izuku is really the kindest person here on earth. you told him what to do, who those people are, etc. your fake dating starts tomorrow.

izuku was waiting outside your door when you opened it, he has his usual beaming smile when you saw him, "hi, (y/n)! ready to start our mission?" he's surely so into this whole thing.

you both walked down the lounge area holding each other's hand. everyone was gaping at the sight except todoroki who remained munching on his sandwich and bakugo who, well, "fucking finally you idiots." he said.

izuku let go of your hand and held both his hands up while shaking his head in a panicky manner, "no, no! we're just fake dating. i'm helping (y/n) get rid of their admirers! they said it was bothering them!"

"okay. but (y/n), why deku?" the motherfucker was smirking at you. todoroki, bless him, caught the panic in your eyes and called bakugo off. "that's enough, bakugo. leave them alone." "tsk! fucking icyhot a fucking killjoy."

most of your admirers stopped following you after they saw you holding hands with izuku. he's been doing a lot for you. he tried to tie your hair at training and brought you water. nothing much happened inside the classroom because everyone knows it's just a show. lots of outsiders believe you're dating izuku. some still bothers you from time to time especially at lunch.

you were sitting with bakugo, todoroki, kirishima, and of course, izuku, when a group of 3 went to your table (they're brave. no one would come bother bakugo's table because everyone's terrified of him.)

"hey, (y/n). can you give me your number now? i just wanted to get to know you better." "(y/n) give me your number! i'll send you lots of chocolates. i promise!" "they're liars but i'm not. i'd take you to your favorite movie this sunday of you'll give me your number?"

you pursed your lips in an annoyed manner, your friends are here and they're embarrassing you. you were about to speak when izuku beats you to it, "please stop bothering (y/n). it's obvious that my partner doesn't want to give you their number."

the group stared at each other with bewildered expressions on their faces, one looked at izuki and asked, "partner? you mean, combat partner or boyfriend? (y/n)'s dating someone?"

izuku wore a prideful expression on his face, "yes, i am their boyfriend and they're dating someone. that's why with all due respect, please leave them alone."

the 3 backed out and apologized. not everyone has the same personality as mineta. the person who seemed like their leader walked forward and bowed, "we're so sorry. we should've stopped when they rejected us the first time. they're just so intriguing that's why we wanted to know more about them. we're really sorry." with that, they left.

you faced izuku and thanked him. it was nice to finally walk and look around without seeing unfamiliar faces follow you. "thank you so much, izuku! you saved me. really."

he smilled at you, "it's nothing! i'd do anything for (y/n)." izuku froze at what he said and started chuckling anxiously, "i.. i didn't mean it like that! hahaha! but if you need anything, i, uhm, i'd always be glad to help." you stared at him and said, "me too, izuku. i'd always be glad to help you! you can come to me everytime you need something." he blushed at what you said.

"FUCKING IDIOTS JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY! I'M TIRED OF HEARING BOTH YOUR SHIT! CONFESS TO EACH OTHER GODDAMNIT!" "oi bakugo. that's not how to do it." "SHUT UP SHITTY HAIR!" "bakugo, you're too noisy." "YOU HALF AND HALF BASTARD I'M TIRED OF YOU TOO!"

izuku coughed tensely, "(y/n), can i talk to you outside? i just need to tell you something." you nodded, "of course!" you both stood up and left the table of wild animals.

when the two of you got outside, izuku's hands were obviously shaking so without a thought, you held it. "are you okay?" "I AM... i am." "why are you acting like this? did something happen?" you asked worriedly.

"no, everything's fine. i just.. i don't know how it started but i just woke up one day thinking how i'd love you to be mine. i want to walk you to school, i want to tell everyone i'm your boyfriend, i want to kiss you good night. haha, is it to much to ask, (y/n)? i like you a lot." he told you that nervously, the boy was shaking and sweating.

"i can't believe it... izuku, i like you too. oh god, are you serious?" "i am, haha! i didn't know you feel the same. i'm really happy!" "i didn't know you feel the same too! half of our classmates knew that i like you. katsuki's just too noisy. he literally told everyone when you did extra training." "(y/n).. kacchan also knows about my feelings for you! he told todoroki and kirishima. is that why he's so persistent in getting us together?" "i don't know. that's just how he is."

you both were awkward as fuck but izuku asked if you'd like to date for real and you said yes.

when you came back to the table, it was bakugo who spoke first, "are you idiots finally together?" you replied to him with a middle finger which aggravated the blondie, "YOU FUCKER!"

[thefanficmonster]

Perspective

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse recounts the time he first met his now best friend who too has been gifted with a deep voice.

Requested by two Anons. This fic is a mash up of two very similar requests I got from an unnamed Anon and 🖤🥀 Anon, so a big thank you to the both of you for sending in your requests! I’m really sorry to be posting your requested fic so late but I hope the final product is gonna make the wait you had to endure worth it! If you come across it and read it, I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

“Yeah, yeah ok, I know.“ I can’t help but playfully roll my eyes at the comments that are flooding in, “Before any more people address it - even though it’s only been five minutes - I’m gonna address it myself: I apologize for the absence of the guest I promised would accompany me on this stream. She made the choice to party until late - or should I say early - and is currently probably asleep. And...I just don’t have the heart to wake her.“

In all honesty, all the blame should fall on Y/N’s lack of responsibility but I could never say such a thing - she rarely let’s herself loose and allows herself to have fun so there’s no way I’m gonna hold this one instance against her. Quite the contrary actually: I hope she starts going out and having fun more frequently cause really deserves it. She’s a super hardworking girl, studying college and working her ass off simultaneously.

“For those of you who don’t know who I’m referring to: the girl in question is Y/N, aka Jumpscaretastic, a horror games oriented streamer. She was supposed to join me for this freaky journey but...yeah I’ll have to endure it on my own because fuck me.“ I take a look at my chat again, deciding to keep this interaction with my viewers going for a bit longer before I start the game. I may be stalling but you sure as hell won’t hear me admit it. The game may be terrifying as hell - I have no doubt it is - but I doubt it would affect me so much if Y/N was here.  My eyebrows furrow automatically at the sight of one specific question that I’ve been getting asked quite a lot recently and I’ve been doing my best to avoid it cause the idea - to me, at least - is so messed up. Why, we’ll get into that later. “No- ok, this is the first and last time I’ll be addressing this wild assumption, you guys, so listen carefully. Y/N and I are by no means related. I’m not related to every deep-voiced person on this planet, just FYI.“ Speaking of Y/N’s deep voice which I’ve gotten so accustomed to hearing, I can’t help but recall the first interaction the two of us had when she got invited by Toast for a game of Among Us with us when Felix canceled on us due to technical difficulties. “I may not be related to her but she really put into perspective how other people feel and react when they hear my voice. I, honestly speaking was astonished by hers.“

A few months ago

“Ok guys, since Felix texted me about an hour ago, saying he won’t be able to make it, I invited a friend of mine so I hope that’s ok with you.“ Toast announces when the majority of us have accumulated in the lobby.

“Yeah, all cool. An introduction to them would be nice though.“ Charlie says, tampering with his avatar’s appearance on the in-game laptop.

“Oh, I’m sure she can do that herself.” He says with a bit of a chuckle, “Y/N?“

“I’m here, I’m here.“ 

My gaze moves from my chat to the monitor displaying the game in an instant as though it would reveal to me who the owner of this unfamiliar voice that just travelled through my headphones is. You know how my voice is considerably deep, yeah well this girl’s voice is six feet below that.  My eyes have widened without me even noticing as I hurry to unmute myself despite being a little late to the reaction party which already consists of a ton of ‘OMG’s and “WHOA”s from the rest of the people in the call. Not one of them, however, considers to question the authenticity of the voice.

“Was that a voice changer or something?“ I say, my eyebrows shooting up when I hear the laugh I receive in response to the question - a sound so deep but simultaneously sweet and girly it messes with my head.

“I wish I kept count so I could tell you which number on the list of people who’ve asked me that you fall under.“ The girl, Y/N replies, “But for the record no, it’s not a voice changer.“

Realizing how hypocritical this question probably seems coming from me, I decide to believe her - probably cause she gets nothing if she lies anyways. “Oh, so this is how it feels hearing my voice for the first time, huh?“ I say, slowly nodding my head, still in slight disbelief.

“Yeah, meeting her was quite rattling - in the best way possible though.“ I say, fixating myself back in reality following the little trip back in time to the day Y/N and I met. “She’s now one of my best friends so that should tell you enough.“

It goes without saying that, since she’s my best friend, I know her quite well. That being said, with the detailed knowledge I have on her, I can guess she’s gonna be in for a massive hangover when she wakes up. I just hope she texts me when she does so I can make sure she’s at least semi-functional. Just then, my phone buzzes with a message. Much to my shock, it’s a message from Y/N. Truth be told, I didn’t expect her to be up for another hour or two or three but here she is, sending a simple text that reads:

“My head’s pounding like a drum mid rock n’ roll concert“

There are no emojis accompanying the message, suggesting she’s deadly serious and in quite a bit of pain. Ok, I won’t sugarcoat it - she’s in a fuck-load of pain right now.

“The Sleeping Beauty has awaken and is complaining about a headache, just in case you were wondering.“ I chuckle seemingly nonchalantly as I silently contemplate whether to text her back or call her instead. Who’s gonna know better than my viewers, after all... “You guys think I should call her? Or would that annoy her?“ I ask, furrowing my brows at the chat as I see different responses coming in.

Meh, fuck it -  I think to myself, already taking my phone to call Y/N when the support of my viewers floods in as well.

She picks up after two rings, letting out a sound that sets the tone for the discomfort she’s in.

“Hello to you too.“ I say, putting the call on speaker so my mic can pick up her responses. “Would you please rate the pain you’re in right now on a scale 1-10?“

“A hundred.“ Her strained, raspy and deeper than usual voice comes through, stealing a chuckle from me, “I’m hungover and still a bit drunk. Like, how does that even work?“

“The morning after is a straight-up bitch. Welcome to the world of bad decisions.“ I tell her compassionately, low-key wishing I could go over to her place and provide her with at least a tiny bit of comfort, as much as I can.

“Yeah...“ she sighs halfway dramatically, “Anyhow, we usually text around this time, what’s up with the call?“

“Just wanted to make sure my best-girl wasn’t really dying, you know. Who am I supposed to annoy in Among Us if you’re not there, after all?” I raise my brow and, although she can’t see me, I bet she can probably guess I’m doing that.

“Whatever...“ The same way I can imagine her rolling her eyes while smiling as she said that, “Tell me this, am I wrong or was I supposed to be on your stream today?“

I barely manage to hold in my laughter at the question, “Uh, yeah you were, but...” she doesn’t let me finish my sentence, instead cuts me of:

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, Corpse! I totally forgot. Believe me, if I could roll my ass out of bed I’d hop in but I really can’t. Unless you want me to be a bore for an hour and a half, that is.“

“For starters, you could never be a bore to me.“ I say matter-of-factly, “And for seconds, you’re kinda on the stream anyway...“

“Come again?“ She cuts me off yet again, “You’re calling me mid-stream? If so, hey everyone! Sorry I couldn’t join, I promise to make it up to both you and Corpse soon.“ A yawn comes from her end before she continues, “As of now, I think I’ll go back to sleep.“

“Alright, alright. I’ll call you again later to make sure you’re still alive. Sleep tight.“ I tell her, already hovering my thumb over the ‘Hang up‘ button.

“Won’t let the hangover bite.“ She slurs/murmurs, stealing my opportunity to end the call cause she does it herself.

I stare at my phone for a second, finally becoming aware of the grin that has spread across my face. Eventually, I address my viewers once again, “There you have it, guys. Technically, you can give her a pass for answering the call, especially in her current state, so let’s all agree to not hold this against her, cool?“

A brief look at my chat shows me the ton of fluffy comments that are coming in as a reaction to the interaction Y/N and I just had. One, however, sticks out especially. It reads: ‘You like her or smt?’

“Do I like Y/N?“ I read the comment out loud, a smirk coming across my face, “Of course I do. She’s a darling.“ If I had a webcam on I’d look straight into the lens and wink. That’s probably spark more than enough rumors, but at the very least they wouldn’t be wrong. “I’ve stalled enough, Outlast is waiting.“ I announce, finally starting the game. After all, it cannot be scarier than the conspiracies my fans could come up with. I get it though - from their perspective, we’re already the perfect couple; from my perspective we’re impossible because from Y/N’s perspective we’re best friends.

Ain’t that how it always goes?

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[wandanatfluff]

A dream come true

Short series Fluff

This is part of a series. I highly recommend reading Seven words first.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Natasha and Y/n go and visit Melina, Yelena and Alexei, Natasha’s parents and sister. Something unexpected happens. (This takes place about 7,5 months after Seven words, meaning the reader is now about 8,5 months pregnant.) No spoilers!

Warnings: Description of giving birth (nothing bloody or too detailed though)

Word count: 2.2 K

A/n: Part two!

Natasha parks the car on the small farm and you let out a heavy sigh as you feel the baby kick, earning you a worried look from your wife.

“You sure you feel good enough?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, just a firm kick.”

You give Natasha a reassuring smile, allowing her to relax a bit. You move your hand to the doorhandle and open it, you wait for your wife to round the car, so she can help you to get out of the car. You’re almost nine months pregnant by now, which means your bump has grown quite big. Natasha holds her arm around your waist as the two of you walk to the door. Melina immediately answers the door, before Natasha could even ring the doorbell.

“If that isn’t my favorite daughter in law!”

“Привет. Как поживает моя любимая свекровь” (Hello. How is my favorite mother-in-law doing?) You say to Melina in your best Russian. “Ну, кто-то практиковал свой русский.” (Well, someone has been practicing their Russian.)

“Yeah, I got kinda sick of doing nothing. Natasha didn’t even let me walk to the grocery store.”

“Ho, stop. Don’t go there, I was just following the doctor’s orders.” Natasha says as the two of you enter the house.

“I know baby. I’m sorry.” You say, giving her a kiss on her cheek. Natasha takes your coat off your shoulders and hangs it on a hook. You smile at her. You suddenly get a little light headed, reaching for Natasha’s arms. She holds on to you tight, letting you lean on her until you’re feeling well again.

“You guys can sit on the couch. I’ll get you something to drink.” Melina walks to the kitchen and comes back with a glass of water. Natasha sits down sideways on the couch with her legs slightly apart, so you can sit between them, opening her arms. Gratefully you rest your back against her front. You take the glass of water Melina hands you and take a few sips, before handing it to Natasha, who puts it on the side table.

“Sorry about back there. I am really thankful for everything you do. I know I have been quite the pain in the ass lately.”

“What? No baby, you’re no pain in my ass. I love taking care of you, especially when you’re nauseous, sick and throwing up all over my new clothes… It’s cute.” Natasha says with a playful smirk on her face.

“Come on Tash, really? I’ve told you I’m sorry a hundred times.” You whine, putting your head in your neck, so you can see Natasha. She gives you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I guess you’ll just have to buy me a new one.” She chuckles, giving you another kiss. You move your eyes forward again, letting your head rest on Natasha’s chest as you close your eyes.

You begin to doze off, when a loud voice startles you awake. You quickly sit up straight, the action causing you to collide with Natasha’s chin, which was resting on your head. After you apologize to Natasha, you look at the source of the noise. Alexei is standing in the doorway, speaking loudly.

“Y/n!”

He walks over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. You gasp for breath as he nearly squeezes you.

“Alexei! Careful, you’re smushing her and the baby.”

“Oh, sorry. I forgot.” Alexei quickly steps away, his face turning slightly red.

“It’s okay. Good to see you too, you smile at him. You then look back at your wife’s scared expression. You reassure her you’re okay, before leaning back again. You make some small talk with Melina and Alexei about the Avengers and about how the farm is doing. You talk about the pigs, the chickens and the new horse they recently bought.

Around five o’clock Yelena comes in. It had started to rain just after you and Natasha had arrived and the blonde entered the house, soaking wet. Melina handed Yelena a small towel and when she was mostly dry again, she greeted you and Natasha.

“Hey sis and her preggy wife.”

“Hey Yel.” You both greet her and she carefully gives you a hug.

“How are the two of you doing?” She asks you.

“We’re doin-” Nat starts.

“No, not you Nat. Y/n and the little guy.” Yelena interrupts Nat. You frown at her words. You slowly turn your head to Nat, to see her looking at Yelena with an angry face.

“Yelena.” Nat exclaims annoyed.

“It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It doesn’t matter, Nat. I’m sure Melina and Alexei can keep it a secret for the next two weeks or so.”

“Wait! You’re 8,5 months already?” Yelena interrupts you. Shouldn’t you be at home, resting?”

“That’s what I have done for the last few months. I’ve got enough sleep for a lifetime, read every book in the bookcase and watched every film on Netflix, Prime Video and Disney+. So I got a little bored, you know?” "Yeah... of course."

After you talked for another hour or so and Melina finished cooking, you all ate together. Although the food was delicious, you only ate a small amount, earning yourself a few concerned looks from Natasha. You felt her hand on yours as she softly whispered something.

“You okay, honey?”

You hummed in a response.

“I’m just a little tired I guess.” Natasha nodded and after desert she stood up, announcing your departure. You felt Melina’s eyes on you.

“Are you sure honey? You can sleep here if you want. It’s quite a long way home. Yelena is staying over too. You and Nat can have the spare room, you just have to refresh the sheets. Yelena can sleep on the couch.”

“I’m sorr-” Yelena protested, but one look from Melina and she nodded her head.

“I actually think that we would rather sleep in our ow-” Natasha was about to reject the offer, but you pulled her sleeve, stopping her from finishing.

“Actually, we would really appreciate that. Thank you, Melina.”

“You walked your pregnant body down the hall slowly, taking forever. Natasha came after you, supporting you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home?”

“I’m really tired Tash and the weather outside is only getting worse. I don’t want us to have to stop halfway the ride, or worse, crash against a tree.”

“Yeah, me neither. Let’s get you to bed.”

Natasha helped you get to bed. She brushed your hair and made the bed, while you sat on the chair. You nearly dozed off and you were almost asleep when you felt Natasha pick you up bridal style, carrying you to the bed. You didn’t protest, you were too tired. You laid your head against Natasha’s shoulder as she let you down on the bed. She gently put the sheets over you. You put one arm above the sheets, laying it over your belly protectively. Natasha gave you a sweet kiss on your forehead and walked to the bathroom. You relaxed your body, ready to fall asleep, when you felt Natasha getting under the blankets behind you, wrapping her arm around you, her hand covering yours on your belly. You gave in to her warmth for a moment before saying:

“Tasha baby, you don’t have to go to bed too just because I’m tired.”

“But…” She protested.

“No baby, get out of bed. I can fall asleep on my own fine.” You felt a kiss on the back of your head, before Natasha got out of bed.

“Sleep well baby.” She whispered, before quietly closing the door.

*** Ow

You opened your eyes, half-awake as you felt a wave of pain going through your body. You put both hands on your belly, the source of the pain. The pain slowly faded as you were still hugging your own body. You took a few minutes to fully wake up. You turned around, reaching out to Natasha. She wasn’t next to you.

“Hey babe.” You heard her voice, you looked up at her. She was sitting in a chair, reading a book. She stood up from her chair, walking to you.

“What’s wrong.” You were about to answer her, when another wave of pain hit you and you curled up in pain. Natasha’s eyes widened.

“Is- is it time?” You nodded as you puffed away the pain.

“Yes… I think… so.” Natasha’s eyes widened even further. Her demeanor suddenly changed. She couldn’t panic right now. You needed her.

“What can I do?”

“Get Melina.” You answered. Melina rushed to your room. She sat down next to you. Her hand on your back. She spoke to you softly.

“When the next contractions hits, I will measure the time between them. All you have to do is puff them away. You probably learned that at delivery training, right? You nod. Another contraction hits. Melina looks at her watch, puffing with you. A minute goes by and the contraction ends. You relax your body and look up at Natasha, who is standing in front of you like a statue, with a pale face. Melina looks at Natasha too and as soon as she sees her daughter, she orders her to sit down.

“Sit down, Natasha. We don’t need for you to faint.”

Natasha listens to Melina’s orders and sits down on a chair.

Ten minutes go by before another contraction hits you, forcing a cry to leave your throat. You feel a wet pool forming between your legs and you grab Melina’s arm.

“I think… my water broke.”

The contraction ends and Melina helps you to get up from the bed. You stand next to the bed, leaning on Natasha, who has stood up from her chair. Melina quickly pulls the sheets off the bed, throwing them in the corner of the room.

“Stay here for a minute. If she has another contraction, puff with her until it ends and measure the time between them.”

Melina leaves the room, going to her own room.

“Wake up Alexei.”

“I’m already awake.” He grumbles.

“Some idiot decided it would be a good idea to scream and-”

“Y/n’s in labor, now get out of your bed and put a pan with water on the stove.” Alexei quickly gets out of his bed, rushing to the kitchen. Not intending to be anywhere near you when you give birth to your son. Melina quickly gets some towels from her closet, laying them on the bed, before heading back to your room. She enters the room as another contraction makes its way through your body. Melina orders Natasha to carry you to her room.

Natasha picks you up bridal style and you hold on to her tight, your screams muffled into her shirt. She lays you down on Melina’s bed and carefully helps you undress you lower body. You make yourself as ‘comfortable’ as possible, letting your back rest against some pillows as Melina stand at the end of the bed between your legs. She tells you it’s time to push and you hold on tight to Natasha’s hand, almost squeezing it.

*** Melina carefully hands you the little guy, after she cleaned him with the water Alexei warmed and wrapped him in a light blue blanket. With tears staining your cheeks, you take him and press him against your chest. After you give the little guy a kiss you look to your left, at Natasha.

Her eyes are red from crying, her chest moving up and down quickly. You give her the little boy. With shaking hands, she takes him from your hands, afraid she’ll drop him. He’s the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. More tears start to fall.

It warms your heart, looking at your wife with your son. She is crying, but you know they’re happy tears. Her dream of being a mother finally came true. The two of you had a son. You knew she would be the best mother ever as she looked up at you, her eyes full of love.

You gesture her to sit down next to you and you wrap her and your son in your arms. Nat lays her head against your chest.

“What do you think of James? After Bucky?” Nat suggests.

“James.” You repeat “James Romanoff. Perfect.”

“Romanoff?” Natasha asks, looking up to meet your eyes.

“Romanoff. After his mom.”

A/n: When it says ‘your son’, ‘your’ is in plural, like Y/n’s and Natasha’s son.

[yourmcu]

Emotional Support Mode

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary:

in which the reader is the loner, antisocial daughter of Tony Stark and the other Avengers including her father never acknowledge her presence (they thought some sort of interaction made you uncomfortable) so she becomes friends with Friday instead - Tony probs finds out and it’s gonna be all cute n fluffie once he realizes -

Word count: 2,243

a/n: hi just wanted to write fluffy tony :)) also I used they/them for friday’s pronouns

Warnings: angst n fluff, friday’s a bit more advanced (not like they aren’t already but) bc they could almost act like a literal human here.

read it on ao3!

You arrive back at the Avengers facility, shoulders slumped and just tired in general since you have a lot of homework and projects to do from school, most of them due by the end of the week. You also have exams later in the week.

“Hey, Fri,” you huff as you make your way to the elevator.

“Welcome home, Y/N. Where do you want to go?”

Yes, you're very close with the A.I that they started calling you by your first name. “To my room - and uh, will you remind me to read two chapters in my history book after I’m done with all my homework? I also have this project, I just need some measurements later, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you.”

It’s going to be a long night, you sigh heavily just thinking about it. Now you’re probably wondering, ‘you live with the Avengers! Why don’t you ask Tony and Bruce for help? Maybe Steve and Bucky for your History test?’

Yeah, well... you barely talk to any real person you live with. Maybe it’s you, you always thought you're making the team uncomfortable. You don’t even talk to your own father often which is kind of depressing on your part.

You love them, they’re like your extended family, but it just isn’t working out. Maybe they just don’t like you. Up to this day you still wonder why Tony took you in when you were just a baby (you were a mistake from one of his one night stands) - he had the choice not to.

“I’m assuming you zoned out again. You have arrived to your room five minutes ago.” Friday announces.

“Y-yeah sorry,” you shuffle out of the elevator and swiftly head to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“I also asked if I should inform Mr. Stark that you have arrived home.”

“No, no thanks. He’s busy and... probably wouldn’t care anyway,” You mutter the last part as you pile the books you need on your desk. “Can you put my study playlist on, please?”

----

“What time is it, Friday?”

“7PM. I was about to remind you to take a break.”

You get up from your chair and stretch, halfway through the last of your homework which is a two page essay. “You’re too kind, thanks pal,” when you walk out your room to head to the kitchen and grab a snack, the lounge is empty, kitchen empty,

“The team’s on a mission? I thought they had the whole week off,” you say before gulping down a water bottle.

“I checked the security footage: they left about an hour ago. Captain Rogers was talking about getting dinner.”

You put the bottle down. “Oh,” you try to mask your disappointment. This isn’t your first time being alone, they always left you here when they had a mission of course but... well, it’s not like they want you around them. “I’ll - I’ll just make myself something later, then. Not a big deal. I have to study anyway.”

Another hour later, the Avengers are back. They're all conversing happily as they pile in the lounge. Peter's rambling about upgrades for the Spiderman suit while Tony's typing away in his phone, nodding at everything he says. Everyone else is arguing about the TV channels and talking about the new restaurant they ate at.

Rhodey shifts, looking around. “Why do I feel like we forgot something?”

Natasha looks at him, waiting for him to go on.

“I assure you, I brought Mjolnir with me this time.” Thor butts in.

“No not that, what time does Y/N get home from school?” No one answers. It’s not like any of them know. It's natural that Rhodey would be worried about his goddaughter (even if they rarely talk). He turns his head to his best friend who’s now walking away with Peter, an arm around his shoulder. “Tony, where’s Y/N?”

He doesn’t hear since he has his full attention on his protégé.

“I’ll start making this tomorrow, I guess. I still have to buy materials.” You mumble to yourself, but you hope Friday's listening to everything you say just to make you feel less lonely. You swipe the hologram of the blueprint away and place the thick books in front of you.

“I would like to recommend a suitable study plan.” they state.

You rub your eyes, sighing, “I’m already halfway, I would’ve considered it earlier though.”

“This is only a recommendation, feel free to ignore it.”

You push yourself away from the desk and mutter a “go on,”, fiddling with your pen.

“Asking Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes would give you more details for your History examination, since the pair were originally from that time period. The same goes for Mr. Banner for your Science examination, I believe he has seven Ph.D’s, you may also approach Vision for the same topic. Mr. Stark has all the necessary materials for your project in his lab. Would you like me to-”

If only it were that easy. It should be easy, the thought alone makes you really nervous. “No, I - I appreciate the recommendation, Friday, but - I think I can do this on my own.”

“But you’re tired and it is almost midnight. I would help you myself but you specifically told me not to.”

They’re not wrong. Your eyes are starting to droop and you barely understand anything you're reading. You're also fighting back tears - why is talking to your family so hard?

“I can sense sadness. Would you like me to activate emotional support mode?”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds great right about now.”

----

“Crap. Guess we lost track of time again, kid,” Tony wipes his hands with a rag while he looks at the time on his computer. “You better get home. I’ll send May a text for keeping you this late.”

“Okay, thank you Mr. Stark. I’m just gonna use my suit-”

“No. Happy will drive you.”

Peter knew better than to argue and insist so he just nods and smiles sheepishly. A minute later Happy came ‘round to take him home.

Tony turns back around. “Friday, make a new project for me please, I’m adding minor upgrades to the Spiderman suit.”

“Not now, boss.”

Oh. He did not expect that. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N is currently opening up. I would like to give her my full, undivided attention. Please come back after fifteen minutes or so.”

Tony doesn’t exactly know how to feel about that. He never sees her outside her room anymore that he kinda forgot she existed tonight - oh fuck, they didn’t bring her to dinner with them.

“Well,” he exhales. “What is she saying?”

“That would be an invasion of privacy.”

“I’m her father-”

“Are you, sir?” Friday’s clever remark makes him stop abruptly.

It’s pretty clear that he’s been a shit father. Not only does he ignore you all the time but he treats Peter way better than his own flesh and blood. The Avengers on the other hand, they were nice people, but just didn’t understand so they try their best to get out of your way.

You were afraid of rejection, afraid to interact, because you had no idea what everyone thought of you. Did they like you? Did you make them uncomfortable? Did they want you around? What about Tony, did he really want a daughter in his life? Because you noticed he’d be better off with a son, yeah, like Peter goddamn Parker.

Tony sighs, walking out of his lab and heads to the mini bar to grab a drink. He needs to think: there's absolutely nothing wrong about you, he just didn’t do his job right, you thought he didn’t care, you thought nobody did. Even Friday is turning against him, doing a better job of comforting and being there for you.

“God, I’m such an asshole,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. He drinks his last shot and heads to the kitchen. “She still awake?” He calls out.

“She is.” Friday has a bitter tone.

He's hesitant to ask again, feeling really bad for not knowing this simple question - “what’s her favorite beverage?”

----

“How do you feel?”

You sniffle. “Well y’know, better than before. I should probably go to sleep. Thanks, Fri.”

“You’re welcome. Also, Mr. Stark is outside your door.”

“W-what?” You put away your books and straighten up, rubbing your damp eyes. “You’re serious? Okay, uh, let him in?” It's more of a question.

“Alright.”

You turn to face your desk as Tony enters the room, holding two steaming mugs. He sits at the end of your bed, just right next to the chair you're sitting on. “Hi,” he gives you a small smile and hands you a mug.

What’s the occasion?

“What’s this?” You ask quietly before taking the mug from his hands. Tony's being gentle and soft, it's odd but you’re not complaining.

“Green tea with honey. I... I thought I saw you make that stuff once.” He says, not mentioning the fact that Friday told him that.

“Oh, well, yeah,” you take a small sip. He added a bit too much honey but other than that it was good. “I thought you preferred coffee, though,”

Tony shrugs, his eyes glistening when he looks at you. “Wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

“Did - did you want something, Dad?” You always found yourself awkward, couldn’t even make conversation with someone for long, always wanted to get straight to the point so it could be over with.

He looks like he wants to say something but he just averts his gaze to you, his hands, the floor, then suddenly he leans in and hugs you. Your feel your heart swell and body warm up, it’s a new sensation for you after all, you rarely get hugs from people. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For everything. I’m such a bad dad, I don’t deserve you. I even forgot you when we went out to dinner.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I had loads of stuff to do earlier anyway, so, but yeah I was just - I just overreact, I’m sensitive. I don’t blame you and the others for not liking me, I know there’s nothing like-able about me, I’m not like Peter-” You ramble, tears now leaving your eyes again.

“Sweetheart, don’t say that,” Tony says as he pulls you closer to him, head resting against his chest while he rubs your back comfortably. “Y/N Stark, you are smart, brilliant - I was just an ass for not acknowledging that.”

“I know you’re just saying that to-”

“Oh, but I’m not,” he now places his hands on your shoulders, getting you to look at him. “Tell me who built their first engine when they were eight?”

You blush, “Dad-”

“No, come on, I wanna hear it.”

“I did.”

“Yes you did. And who made a completely functioning robot at their middle school science fair that blew all the teacher’s minds?”

You’re trying to hide a smile, recalling the memory,  “I did.”

“And who,” Tony gets up and walks to the bulky looking thing that you covered with a sheet, pulling it off, “is currently building a computer from scratch?”

“Dad! That’s still a work in progress,” he messily places the sheet back and chuckles.

“My point is, you’re a clever and talented girl, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down. And you don’t have to be shy around your family, those idiots have been dying to get to know you but since you don’t talk much... they don’t want to force it. We love you,” he says. “I hope you forgive me ‘cause I really wanna make it up to you. I’m not calling Peter in for a few weeks.” Tony sits down beside you again.

You couldn’t believe he’d do that for you. “You don’t have to, if you need him for something then-”

“-then you could help me instead, if you’re up for it.”

“I’m really sorry for being such a lonely freak,” you yawn, getting back into Tony’s open arms. “I love you.”

Tony tucks you in and lies down beside you, “I love you tons, kiddo.”

You snuggle into his chest, feeling his steady breathing while he rests his chin above your head.

----

It's morning. The Avengers are gathered at your open bedroom door.

“Are you getting all of this, Friday?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Steve turn that shuttering sound down!” Natasha hisses at the super soldier who's doing his task, taking pictures.

Steve almost drops the phone and has Bruce fix the volume for him.

They’re all watching you and Tony cuddle together, still fast asleep.

“Do we have to stay here until they wake up?”

“Unless you have a great way of waking them up, yes. Now shut up.”

“If you think about it we definitely look creepy right now.” Sam comments.

“It’s their fault for having the door wide open all night!” Clint says.

Tony's actually awake the whole time, listening to them bickering. “You have three seconds to get the hell out of here before I make all of you polish my suits.” With that, the team races down the hall, pushing each other to get away first like literal children.

[anxious2dsimp]

Everything He’s Not | Iwaizumi x GN! Reader | Short Fic

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Flavour: Angst (Reader x Cheater!Oikawa) to Fluff (Reader x Iwaizumi)💔→☁️

Reader: Gender Neutral!

Format: Short Fic (alternating between two sides of the story, y/n and Iwa’s)

Part: 2 out of 2 (read part 1 here)

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Y/N, has dated the very popular Oikawa Toru for a while, through him becoming friends with his group. However, little do they know about a certain stoic ace’s feelings for his best friend’s s/o. When Oikawa screws up big time, will Iwaizumi’s true feelings finally show? And what will Y/N do when everything goes down?

Warnings: Cheating, cursing, breakups, basically Oikawa x Reader angst turned into Iwaizumi x Reader fluff.

A/N: I am so late with this I'm so sorry, college has been whooping my butt!! But, it was nice to take a break and edit this. I love this story sm I hope you enjoy the finale! :D

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“I’d love that,” they replied, a genuine smile appearing on their lips as they played with the sleeve of their shirt. I nodded and immediately went to get everything from the kitchen, setting up the movie in the living room and calling (y/n) over, handing them a blanket as they sat down on the couch. I stood there without knowing what to do before they looked at me and patted the spot next to them, moving the blanket so I could sit. Without thinking about it twice I sat down beside them; I was crazy for them, more than I cared to admit, so it was enough to see their eyes sparkle happily at me to get me to do whatever they wanted. We watched the movie and ate our ice cream without mentioning Oikawa again, I turned off my phone knowing he would probably call me like he always did, and (y/n) blocked his number so halfway through the movie the bad had faded away and it was just us having fun. However, they must have gotten tired from the crying and running because they fell asleep midway, their head ending up resting on my shoulder.

I was glad they were asleep so they wouldn’t be able to see me smiling like an idiot, I was surprised enough to see they still liked hanging out with me despite what my best friend did and didn’t want to give them a reason to think we shouldn’t see each other anymore. I figured they could use the rest, so I lowered the volume of the tv and leaned my head on theirs, enjoying their company and relaxing to the point I nodded off as well. What felt like a second later I opened my eyes to the sound of (y/n)’s phone ringing and was greeted by an unfamiliar sensation. Somehow in our sleep we had ended up cuddling, their head resting on my chest and my arms around them. It was too late to get out of it now though, they had woken up and probably realized the same thing from the way they were blushing while picking up the phone. They apologized to their transfer mom and told them they’d go home right away, and once I looked at the tv screen for the first time since waking up I realized it must be quite late since the movie was over.

“Uh, I should get going,” they said while standing up and fixing their clothes, their face still shinning with a hint of red, “thank you for everything though, really. I would still be a mess if it weren’t for you.” It was my turn to feel flustered as I nervously rubbed my neck before replying, “no problem, I’m glad I could be of service.” They giggled and my heart fluttered as I stood up, grabbing my coat from the hanger by the door, earning a confused glance from (y/n). “What? Did you really think I was going to let you go home by yourself at this hour?” I explained as they smiled and picked up their backpack, walking over to the door and following me outside.

The trip back to their house was about twenty minutes, the first ten by bus and the second ten walking, so although it was easy for us to stay quiet on the bus without being awkward thanks to the noisy engine, that was no longer the case once it was just us walking through empty, moonlit suburban streets. I didn’t know what to say, and I could tell (y/n) was feeling the same way. “I hope that what happened with Oikawa doesn’t ruin our friendship,” (y/n) said, their eyes lost somewhere among the stars.

Your POV

You held your breath as you waited for the boy’s response; you meant it, you loved hanging out with them, but now that Oikawa and you were clearly over you were afraid things would change for the worst. You cared for all of them, especially for Iwaizumi, and didn’t want his friend screwing up to be the end of that as well. “Right, friendship,” he mumbled, his voice disappointed, causing you to look at him to try and figure out what that was about to which the boy shook his head slightly and quickly added louder, “why would it ruin it?”

“I don’t know, I care about you Iwaizumi, regardless of what happened with Oikawa, so I know I’d miss you if we stopped hanging out,” you confessed, blushing at the sight of his cheered up smile. ‘What was up with me? I just broke up with his best friend, and yes, I always found Iwaizumi to be attractive physically and personality-wise, but he was so different from Toru I never thought anything would happen between us, why would someone like him like me?’ you thought to yourself as you mentally kicked your racing thoughts. “Nah, don’t be stupid, I care about you, and I bet the others two do too, so there’s no way in hell you’re getting rid of us,” he joked, making you chuckle, he had always been great at making you feel better. “Except for Shittykawa, I already got rid of him,” you said crossing my arms and huffing comically, trying to lighten the mood, as he smiled and nodded in return.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” he chuckled and looked down at his feet falling silent before quietly adding, “you know you deserve someone better than him, right?” It was a weird question, after all at first it seemed like Oikawa was the best there was, everyone was after him. You sighed and then replied unconvincingly, “do I? I mean, I know I don’t want someone who cheats on me and in hindsight isn’t as self-obsessed, but according to everyone, he’s all that so,” now you were the one who fell silent, looking to the side to see Iwa frowning. “Oh, trust me, there are better people than Oikawa. I’ll be honest, I’ve always thought of his fangirls as stupid for being blinded by the spotlight, but it kind of serves them right. With you though, you weren’t blinded by anything and instead chose to see the good in him, you’re special. So since you don’t really care about the sparkle, I just think you need someone who… who’s everything he’s not.” You stuffed my hands into your hoodie’s pocket and sighed, thinking about what he said you realized that he was right.

“Wow, that actually makes a lot of sense,” you smiled at the boy, making him do a double-take as his eyes went slightly wide. “It does?” he asked, rubbing his neck and looking away as he moved closer beside you to let a car pass by, now that you two were walking closer to each other you could definitely tell he was blushing. What was this all about? Maybe he liked you, but the question that was making your mind race was, did you like him? After all, he was everything Oikawa was not, careful, quiet, in the shadows instead of the spotlight, but with a huge heart once you got to know him. “Yup, but it kinda sounds like I should look for someone like you after what you described,” you said, biting your lip out of the nerves, were you really risking everything because of a hunch? Instead of replying immediately, Iwaizumi stopped in his tracks, looking at the floor and kicking the ground. You stopped and turned to face him, walking up to him and trying to meet his gaze with your eyes.

“I feel awful,” he said, his face as redder than you had ever seen it, your heart feeling more crushed than before; of course, you’re wrong, he’s Oikawa’s best friend, why would he jeopardize that or catch feelings for his best friend’s ex? “I- I’m sorry just forget what I said, I should hurry home,” you spun around, ready to start jogging again when you felt his hand grab my wrist gently but firmly before mumbling, “no, wait!” turning you around to face him. “It’s not that. I feel awful because, although Oikawa’s my best friend, ever since I saw you two together, I couldn’t shake the feeling that you should be with me instead. Yeah, I’m everything he’s not, so that’s why I thought I should just forget it, because I never thought you’d be into that, especially after being with Toru. So, before you go, I just… I had to say that, if you were with me, I promise I’d treat you like you deserve.”

“Do you… do you really mean all that?” you asked, your face pretty much burning off as you looked into the brunette’s eyes, only then realizing he was still holding onto you but was now holding your hand. “Yeah, I mean,” he looked away, not letting go, “you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re so smart, chill, funny, kind, and beyond beautiful, and I was dying inside whenever I saw Oikawa kiss you because I wanted to be him so bad but I-”

You squeezed Iwa’s hand, taking a step forward almost involuntarily as he did the same, his face still showing the concern that had appeared as he rambled but now only inches apart from yours. “I know this may be weird, but I like you too. I just never realized how much until all of this went down and suddenly, I wasn’t absorbed by keeping Oikawa happy and I finally saw you, still there,” you replied, smiling at the spiker whose worry melted away into a sweet smile, the kind that you had only seen momentarily before, in moments where it was just the two of you and you forgot about everything else. He took a deep breath, letting go of your hand and opting to rest his against your cheek instead before whispering; “I’m crazy for you, loser.” You both laughed softly, and at that moment it felt as though you were the only two people in the world, surrounded by nothing other than the night sky and silent streets.

“I figured as much,” you joked in return, Iwa rolling his eyes in response before dipping his head down and making his lips meet yours. For a second you were taken aback, but unlike what you expected, it didn’t feel wrong, on the contrary, it felt like it was the right thing all along. So, you let your arms snake around his neck as he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you in deeper. The trance was broken by your phone ringing, making you two break apart only to see the spiker smiling like crazy. “Wow,” you whispered, still in awe of everything that had happened and how it had all gone down. Staying in each other’s embrace, you picked up the phone and told your transfer mom you were only a street away and ended the call, looking up at Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi’s POV

“I’ll call you later?” I asked, happier than I have ever been, as I held (y/n) in my arms, lost looking at the way their eyes sparkled as they looked at me. It felt even better than I had imagined all those times; seeing them look at me like I thought they never would. “Sounds good,” they said, standing on their tiptoes and kissing me again before we let go of each other and walked down the remaining street to their place hand in hand. “Bye,” they beamed at me after I stopped them for one last kiss before (y/n) walked up to their front door, me watching them walk away still smiling like an idiot. Once they were inside I started walking back to the bus station, checking my phone for the first time since (y/n) showed up to see 27 missed calls from Oikawa as I took it off of silent mode. Only a few minutes later my phone rang again, and despite how angry I was, I knew I had to pick up.

“I fucked up with (y/l/n),” the usually upbeat boy said the second I picked up, I could tell he had been crying, but I didn’t feel as bad as I should have for my best friend, he deserved it. “I know,” I replied, my voice unintentionally colder than I expected, “I talked to them.” The other side of the call fell silent, I wouldn’t let him guilt trip me after how he treated them. “How are they?” Oikawa asked genuinely. “Getting over it, but you should know what you did was fucking horrible, Shittykawa,” I said, making a mindful attempt to sound less harsh, we were friends after all. “I know, and I feel terrible, but I also know (y/n), so there’s no way to undo this,” he said seriously, it wasn’t often that I heard him like this, “and I don’t know if I want to either, the odds of me screwing up again are too high and I don’t want to hurt them.”

“So you’re saying they deserve better than you?” I guessed, knowing that’s probably what he meant without realizing. Toru just sighed, falling silent for a second before stating, “You know me too well. See ya at practice tomorrow Iwa-chan.” I said bye and hung up right as I got on the bus, taking a seat by the window and looking out towards the quiet streets, letting my mind wander. I was feeling too many things at once, there was too much going on and still so much to figure out, but it didn’t matter; I closed my eyes and remembered the kiss, the way (y/n) looked at me that made me feel like the luckiest person alive. Nothing else mattered, because I had them.

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tags: @bakugouswh0r3

[libsterslobsters]

Whole Lotta Love

Synopsis: For some people, Valentine’s Day is another word for "stress", especially when you don't know what the other person is expecting. Several years into their relationship, Bucky’s pretty sure he has a good understanding of the Reader, until a word from Sam makes him question everything he thinks he knows. The race is on to make their first Valentine’s Day since saying their vows a special one, but as per usual, fate has it's own ideas about what will make the holiday truly memorable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Enhanced! Super-soldier Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Author's note: This fic contains references to earlier stories. For more information, click the series masterlist link. As always, the reader is unnamed so that this can be read as a self-insert, but at this point, I think of her as an OC.

The song referenced is Hearts Don't Break Around Here by Ed Sheeran

Series Masterlist

A The Song Remains The Same Fic

---------‐-----------------------------------

“So, Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky doesn’t look up from his laptop (or more specifically, the field report he’s typing) at Sam’s words. Despite his concentration, he can tell that his partner is staring at him, boring holes into his back with his gaze.

“Uh-huh.” He’s listening, but so far, he doesn’t care.

“What are you doing for it?” For Valentine’s day? Um…

“Not much.” It’s a Tuesday this year, right? Then probably working, like most other people, he’d imagine.

The room is silent as he types, so Bucky assumes that settles the matter. That is, until Sam mutters a quiet, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“About what?” How many paragraphs does he have to type before he can pass this off as a full report? When he joined the Avengers, he thought the hardest part of his job would be the bad guy of the week, not doing paperwork!

“You’re really not doing anything for Valentine’s Day? Seriously?” He nods absentmindedly and clicks the save icon. He’ll finish this tomorrow. It’s five o’clock. Time to head home. Home to-

“What’s your wife gonna think about that?” He shrugs and cuts the power to the laptop.

“She thinks that the whole holiday is a rip-off. See you Monday?” He turns around for confirmation, only to catch Sam staring at him, mouth hanging wide open. “What?”

“A rip-off?” Is he just going to be stuck repeating himself?

“Yep.” Told him that the first February 14th they spent together.

“And you actually believed her?”

He nods. “She’s not one to lie.”

Sam nods incredulously. “Uh-huh. And are you planning to ever have sex again?”

He’s not going to dignify that with an answer (because really, isn’t it obvious?).

“Fine.” Sam shrugs. “You do you, man. All I’m saying is, if I had a wife who looked like that-” he indicates the lock screen of Bucky’s phone (a picture of her laughing, telling him to put away the damn camera after wrestling the dog for the tie to her favorite robe). “-I’d have my V-day plans set up a month in advance.”

Normally Bucky would take what Sam says with a grain of salt, but he is after all a man out of time, so maybe it’s worth considering that his partner may be right.

“What would you suggest I do?”

“Outside of the bedroom?” He narrows his eyes at the Falcon. “Okay, bad joke.” Sam scratches at the back of his head, thinking. “I don’t know, man. That’s your girl. You know her best, but flowers are always a good place to start.” Good to know that hasn’t changed since the 1940s. Although, last time he brought her flowers, she spent the afternoon sneezing until he eventually convinced her that it was okay, he wouldn’t be offended, she should throw the damn things out. Then again, that was before she was a super soldier.

“Flowers.” He repeats, earning a nod from Sam.

“You can get creative. Do a little research. But I’m just saying, when a woman waits five years for you to reappear, the least she deserves is a few flowers.” On that, they can agree.

He must bid Sam some sort of goodbye and make his way through the Avengers compound, but he’s unaware of anything until he’s in the parking lot, sitting behind the wheel of his car, googling “What to do for your wife on Valentine’s Day.” There’s a web page that boasts twenty different selections. Might as well give it a look.

___________________________________________________________________________________

She’s nearly home when her phone dings with a text from Barnes. “Just got in. Forgot to get milk. Can you swing by on your way, or should I go to the gas station and pick up a gallon?” A frown forms on her face. It’s pretty rare that Bucky forgets things. Must’ve been a hell of a day at work, then. Either that, or his brain has completely turned to mush thanks to typing out field reports. Either way-

“I got it. See you in twenty.” She thinks about tacking on a “love you”, but the light turns green before she can.

The grocery store is packed thanks to so many people getting off work. There’s only three carts left, all with bad wheels. She chooses the least squeaky option and, grabbing an add on her way, heads into the grocery store. Milk, and if she remembers right from this morning, they’re running dangerously low on coffee and tea. Despite caffeine having absolutely no effect on their enhanced bodies, both of them are nightmares to be around in the mornings without their beverages of choice. Force of habit and all.

She’s halfway to the checkout when she sees it. A sign, decorated in garish shades of red, pink, and purple. “All Valentine’s Day chocolates 10% off.” Shit. Yeah, that is coming up. To tell the truth, she’d completely forgot all about that day halfway through February. For most of her life, it only meant giving homemade cards at school when most kids had store-bought. Then, once she reached adulthood, it was a reminder that she was destined to be alone. Who would want someone who’s on the run, and what’s more, sees the future? Once she and Barnes got together, it didn’t change much. That first Valentine’s Day, he mentioned the holiday, and she shut it down immediately. They were both broke (or at least, he had no legitimate way of making money while she was broke), and celebrating a mostly commercial holiday seemed like a waste. Plus, she didn’t want to put a strain on a new relationship. Over the years, the subject never came up again, and she’s content for it to stay a non-starter, thank you very much. In her opinion, you should show your partner you love them every day of the year, not shoe-horn it into one twenty-four hour period. Call her unromantic if you must.

She’s completely immune to the various displays of cheap chocolate in heart-shaped boxes and overly sentimental cards as she approaches the register and starts to unload her items. Milk. Tea. That one specific brand of coffee that he likes because, “It tastes like what we drank in basic training. Terrible, but I kinda got used to it, so now everything else tastes like it’s trying too hard.” whatever that means. He’s right; she’s tasted it, and it’s fucking awful. Still, every morning, he drinks at least three cups while she drains her pot of tea.

“You got a hot date for Valentine’s Day, hun?” The cashier asks her, never breaking her rhythm as she rings up the items.

She chuckles. “As a matter of fact, yes.” The cashier’s eye go wide, and she holds up her left hand. “And every other day.”

“Ooh, nice. How long have you been together?”

“Nine years.” Wait… “Or four years, depending on which of us you ask. He blipped, I stayed.”

The cashier nods. “So are you older than him now?”

Physically? They’re not completely sure, but if you calculate the times he was off the ice with HYDRA and add that to the age he was before the serum, then they’re not far off. But chronologically- “No, he’s still older.” And yes, it will always be funny that Sam responds with “Okay, boomer” whenever Bucky makes an outdated reference (even if he’s off by a good twenty years).

With a little more light chatter, she pays for her items and leaves. Now, for home.

As soon as she opens the front door, she’s greeted by their dog, Sarge, barking excitedly and hopping around like he’s on a trampoline despite missing a leg. Bucky’s not far behind, placing a quick peck on her forehead before taking the bags from her and unloading them in the kitchen. Tonight’s his night to cook, but unless her nose has suddenly decided to give out, he hasn’t started dinner yet. She doesn’t mind taking over tonight, and when he sheepishly apologizes while she begins her preparations, she brushes it off. Although, for the second time in an hour, she’s seen proof of his unusual absentmindedness. Oh well. She’ll ask him about it later.

Despite being relieved from tonight’s chef duties, Bucky stays in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar scrolling through his phone as she cooks. His expression is neutral, which can mean one of two things; a) he’s just killing time and there aren’t any interesting posts or articles vying for his attention, or at the opposite end of the spectrum, b) he’s deep in thought, possibly angry, sad, or even frightened, but he’s gone into Winter Soldier mode and shut down so that she won’t pick up on his mood. Damn the man and his poker face.

Eventually dinner is served and she sends him off toward the fridge in search of two beers while she serves their plates. Just as she’s spooning a generous helping of salad into her bowl, it happens. A vision, but a limited one. All she’s seeing is a phone. Well, that and the hand holding it. She’s not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed that she immediately recognizes the hand as Bucky’s, but that goes by the wayside as she takes in the article he’s reading. “Should you do something for Valentine’s Day even is she says no?” It’s a thread on some anonymous discussion board. The reply that has his attention is in reference to a now divorced individual who “was dumb enough to believe that, on our first V-Day as a married couple, she didn’t want anything.” Oh boy. Not good. This will be their first Valentine’s Day since exchanging vows, and if the fact that he’s read this reply (if not already read, will read soon) means that it’s at least crossed his radar that she might be feeding him bullshit. That’s not the case, but after his research, she knows from experience that no matter how much she tries to convince him otherwise, a small part of his mind will be stuck on, “But what if this is a big deal?” Which means-

“Doll, are you just gonna stand there with the salad tongs in your hand?” That snaps her out of it.

“No. Just a vision.” He frowns as she passes him his plate.

“Anything important happen?” Should she say?

“No.” She’s not sure if the smile or not, so she takes a bite from her roll to cover it. “Random sneak peek.” It’s not a lie. What she saw really isn’t important. Still, if he’s in that mindset, she should probably go on and do something for him just in case. After all, why should it only be the ladies who reap this holiday’s benefits?

___________________________________________________________________________________

Not flowers. That’s the one thing that, after copious amounts of research Bucky is one hundred percent certain about. They may still be a common romantic gift, but since they were also a go-to back when he was courting girls in the 1940s, it’s safe to say they’ve been overdone. Plus, he doesn’t really want to remind her of that time she had such a severe allergic reaction to the flowers he picked her on a walk through the park in Bucharest that her eyes nearly swelled shut and she sneezed herself sick. That doesn’t exactly seem like prime romance.

Chocolates or other candies have the same issues as flowers. Contrived and predictable. A bottle of wine is nice, but neither of them can so much as get mildly tipsy thanks to the super serum. The fourteenth is his day to cook, so he guesses he could do some reading and try to create something a little more special than spaghetti (he thought about going to a nice restaurant for dinner, but there’s a few issues with that, not the least of which is they’re likely to be recognized without their disguises, and he’d rather not look at his wife through sunglasses on Valentine’s day), but that seems a little underwhelming.

As he loads the dishwasher (she fell asleep half-way through the third episode of whichever nonsensical comedy they’re watching this week, so he sneaked back downstairs to clean up the dinner dishes), he thinks back to the dozen separate articles he read on the subject of Valentine’s Day gifts. Jewelry was a common theme, but that’s out. She’ll say thank you to his face, but worry about the cost behind his back. Plus, he has absolutely no idea what she’d like, and there’s no sense in purchasing something only for her to hate it.

Another common one was lingerie. Bucky almost choked on his tongue when he saw some of the examples given with that option. None of it looked comfortable (in fact, he’s still scratching his head about how you even put on one of the pieces that popped up on the web page) and he doesn’t want to give her the impression that she has to dress up for him. Even putting all that aside, he has no idea what size she’d even wear. He likes to think that he knows his wife pretty well, but somehow, in all their years together, it never occurred to him to ask her for her clothing sizes. That, and have you even seen the bra sizing system? Does it make sense to anyone, because to Bucky, it’s all gibberish. 32 B? 36 DD? What the hell? Somehow, when HYDRA was training him to extract information, they failed to go over the translation of a woman’s bra size. He supposes he could ask, but he’s not sure there’s a non-suspicious way to work, “Hey, sweetheart. What size are your breasts?” into casual conversation.

Sam said to get creative, so he tried to think outside the box. What’s something she really needs? A new vacuum cleaner is the first thing to come to mind, but he’s not stupid enough to think that would make a good gift. He knows she’s had her eye on a set of throwing stars, but that doesn’t seem to correlate well with what this holiday is all about. That’ll keep until her birthday.

He’s still wracking his brain for anything at all that might work when he feels a wet nose poking at his hand. Sarge. “Hey, boy. Has your mom gone to bed?” The response is a quiet “woof” and lick to his palm. He scratches the mutt behind the ears, smiling to himself as Sarge’s back leg thumps at the treatment.

“What do you think we should get our girl? Huh?” There’s no reply (of course not, he’s talking to a dog), but he nods, pretending all the same that Sarge has offered up a suggestion. “A bone. Yeah, somehow I don’t think that’s her thing. Try again.” The dog blinks at him lazily. “No, you’re the one who wants new tennis balls. Not Mom. Although you’re right about her liking peanut butter.” At this rate, he might as well get her a bone and some tennis balls, because he’s sure not coming up with any ideas.

She likes music. The thought pops into his head while he’s brushing his teeth. All sorts of music. Over the years, he’s tried to make sense of the songs he’s heard her listen to, but has yet to find a discernible pattern in her listening habits. She doesn’t seem to stick to just one genre or era. More like she picks songs by how they relate to what she’s feeling at the moment. Wait a second-

“A mixtape.” His reflection mouths the words back at him. Despite technology having moved on from the days of burning CDs, she still has a thick stack of the disks stored in a cabinet and plays them on the regular. He’s even seen a few that she made herself, pasting together the songs she likes to make a “Cleaning mix”, “Workout Mix” and “Pissed off Mix”. Bucky’s sure he could figure out how to burn a CD, but it’s not like she’d be able to listen to that everywhere she went. That leaves a playlist. She uses one of those apps to listen to music on her phone, right? Surely he can put something together for her using that.

Quietly, he climbs into bed next to his sleeping wife and pulls her back against his chest, slinging one arm over her waist as usual. He closes his eyes, but his mind is alight with activity. A playlist. Of course. He’ll put some extra effort into whatever he cooks that night, stop by a bakery and pick up some sweet treats for dessert. Hell, maybe they’ll both dress up and act like they’re on a date. Then, once they’re sitting down to their meal, he’ll pull out his phone and hit play. It’s perfect. At least, he hopes it is.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Putting on a lacy bra and panties set underneath her regular work attire seemed like a brilliant idea this morning. Today’s a short day; she’s only got three classes to teach, and Rhodey called last night to tell Bucky that he’s suspending work hours at three pm “Since most people have holiday preparations to make.” Her plan was to be waiting on the sofa in the living room when he arrives home, professional button-down blouse open just enough for him to get a good look at what’s underneath, pencil skirt pushed up enough to reveal the stockings and garters she’s donned for the occasion. It’s fun, with just enough cheesiness to match this whole holiday. And, well, it’s a guarantee that by the end of the night they’ll be in bed together, both rumpled, sweaty, and satisfied. Perfect, right?

Wrong. On her drive to work, her skimpy underwear began to ride up, giving her a wedgie, and there was no way to adjust without running the risk of wrecking. She was so distracted by her discomfort that she missed her exit, and by the time she arrived at the college, she was running so behind that she didn’t get the chance to run to the bathroom and readjust. Her lecture on sentence diagrams was pure torture before the underwire from her bra decided to join in the fun and poke her directly in the ribs, but with that addition, she was especially impatient with her students’ tendency to joke around a little too much in class.

Luckily, she had just enough time to wrap the exposed metal bit in tissues before her next class, which eliminated the pain in her chest, but did nothing to alleviate the discomfort once her stockings began to slide down, having at some point disconnected themselves from the garters. She taught like that for the next two classes, but as soon as they were over, she pealed the whole ensemble off in the teacher’s restroom and changed into her gym clothes. Alright, screw the whole seduction routine. She needs to blow off some steam and fast, or else she’ll be in a bad mood all night.

That’s why, thirty minutes later, she finds herself in the training room of the Avengers compound, working over a punching bag. “Fuck-” Her fist connects, making the bag swing crazily from it’s hook. “-this- whole- day!” It goes sailing, and she feels a little better.

“Ouch!” The voice comes from behind her and she whirls around, gaze resting on-

“Sam.” The man in question holds up his hands in an “I surrender” gesture.

“Don’t shoot! I come in peace.” Rolling her eyes, she holds up her middle finger, receiving a snicker in acknowledgment.

“Just working off a little frustration before I head home.”

“Good.” Sam chuckles. “’cause otherwise, I’d be worried that when Barnes pulls out his dick tonight, you’ll bite it off.” She thinks about telling him that there’s no chance of that, but she might just cut off his if he crosses her. However, that jogs her memory.

“Has he left yet?” Sam nods.

“About an hour ago. Said he had to pick up groceries.” Shit. There goes her plan to shower, throw the damn lingerie back on and proceed as planned.

Bidding Sam a hasty reply, she makes tracks towards her car and, once inside, heads for home. Fine. New plan. She’ll shower once she arrives and then when the evening is drawing to a close, wait for him in bed. Nodding to herself, she puts the car in park and climbs out. Now, to psych herself up enough in the next few hours to put the damn lingerie back on.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Where did he go wrong? It takes all of Bucky’s self control not to spit out the spoonful of sauce he just tasted. This was supposed to be an easy recipe for Chicken Alfredo (or at least, that’s what the website boasted; he should’ve known better than to get his information from the internet and stuck to a good old-fashioned cookbook from the library). Not… whatever the hell this is. Maybe even if the sauce is nauseating, the chicken is okay?

He pulls open the oven door, and immediately smoke billows out, making his eyes water. Okay, chicken’s a little well-done. Who is he kidding? Black. The chicken is burned black. And the pasta… he lifts the pot lid and stirs, only to come to the realization that the pasta is completely stuck to the bottom of the pot. Wonderful.

It’s inevitable; over the years, he’s had his fair share of cooking disasters, but usually he does okay. Tonight though… who the hell up there did he piss off, because the only explanation for how badly this is going is his karma coming due.

Still holding the offending spoon, he looks over at Sarge, who’s staring at him, long pink tongue sticking out as he pants. “Trust me, boy. You don’t want any of this.” There has to be something else he can pull together on short notice. Normally he’d be worried that she’s running late without so much as a text, but today he’s relieved. At least if she’s running behind he’ll have time to… what? Maybe order takeout? Before she gets-

“I’m home.” Shit.

Sarge yips, shaking with excitement, and starts towards the kitchen door, then turns back, uncertain. “Go on. I know you’re dying to jump on her and lick her face.” Something they really should be training out of him because he’s getting too big for that sort of behaviour but, well… there’s a reason they call them “puppy dog eyes.”

Not needing to be coaxed, the dog takes off, tripping a little in the momentary lapse in his memory that he’s a tripod, but easily catches himself and goes on his merry way, leaving Bucky to clean up his mess. From the sound of things, a game of fetch is going on in the living room, so she should be distracted for a while.

He manages to pour the sauce down the drain and scrape most of the pasta into the trash while Sarge is acting as a decoy, but there’s absolutely no way he can dispose of the chicken without tipping her off (damn enhanced senses, it’s a wonder she hasn’t already smelled it). Finally, he decides to just go for it. She’s going to notice whether he throws it out now or two hours from now. Might as well get a head start on cleaning.

Sure enough, not ten seconds after he empties out the oven, he catches a movement in his peripheral vision, and the familiar sound of her breathing tips him off that he’s no longer alone.

“Hey, Doll.”

“Hey, Bucky. Did something burn in here, or-” He holds up the pan for her inspection before continuing his scraping.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah.” He slams the lid back on the trashcan and turns on the tap, intent on rinsing out the pan. “Another is whoever the god of culinary arts is has it in for me today.”

She chuckles. “You know, that would be funnier if we didn’t actually know a god.”

“Yeah, but he’s in control of thunder.” He meets her eyes, smirking slightly. “Although it did look like I electrocuted the bird.” Her lips quirk up into a smile, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her, cupping the back of her head gently to hold her in place when she tries to move away, muttering something about being sweaty.

He’s not entirely sure how it happened, but by the time they come up for air, her back his pressed against the wall and he’s got her pinned in place. Not that he’s complaining.

“Anyone ever tell you that the tip of your nose turns pink after you’ve been kissed?’ Her cheeks go rosey in response.

“I think so. One guy did. I told him it’s only when I’m kissed properly.”

He really would like to continue the playful banter, but there’s still the small matter of whatever it is they’re going to eat.

“What do you feel like for dinner tonight?”

“Apart from electrocuted chicken?” He responds with a swat to her ass, which earns him a snicker. “Let’s keep it simple. Pizza. Your choice of toppings.” Right, that’s easy enough. Plus, if they have to wait longer than thirty minutes, it’s free.

“Okay. I’ll order while you shower?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He’s just pulled up the menu on his phone when the sound of her clearing her throat attracts his attention. She’s standing in the doorway, combing through her freshly let down hair with her fingers, a playful look in her eyes.

“Or you could join me. Just a mild suggestion.”

Dinner can wait for a while.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The Brooklyn townhouse they live in has many nice features. There’s a functional if small screened in back porch, big enough to hold a table for two and a grill. Two bedrooms, on the off chance someone from work needs to crash for a night or two. A kitchen with a dishwasher. A working fireplace. Good closet space. And an en suite bathroom.

Maybe it’s a little ridiculous to call a bathroom luxurious, especially when, in comparison to what’s featured in many brownstones, it’s more than modest, but she can’t help but think of it as such. There’s a double sink so that in the morning rush to get ready, Bucky’s able to shave and brush his teeth without having to wait for her to finish applying her makeup. Shelving above the toilet makes certain that even if the last person to shower took the towel with them, another one is on hand. Speaking of the shower, it’s not the largest one in the world, but both of them can fit in comfortably at the same time, which is what’s lead to their current situation.

She’s just finished allowing the water to course over her body, easing the sweat from her skin, and is about to begin the process of washing her hair, scrubbing her body, but she hesitates. She might as well ask. It’s only practical after all.

“Do you want to start now or get cleaned up and have dinner beforehand?” It’s obvious what she’s referring to, so she doesn’t bother to spell it out.

His brown knits, and if she didn’t know him as… intimately… as she does, she’d actually believe he’s confused.

“Oh, so you’re just assuming there’s gonna be sex involved at some point tonight?”

She shrugs, wringing out her hair.

“Seemed like a safe enough bet.” She glances pointedly between the two of them. “After all, we’re already undressed. “

His laugh is a quiet huff, barely discernible over the sound of the water. “Then I’d say start now, have dinner, then go for round two. Sound about right to you?”

She nods. “Solid plan.”

“Then get over here.”

Unlike the welcome home kiss they shared not half an hour ago, this one is less tender, more electric. Hands twist in hair, bodies press together. Tongues begging for entrance quickly give way to teeth nipping at bottom lips, an unspoken sparring match for who’ll be in control this time around. Ultimately he wins, grasping her hips and lifting as she wraps her legs securely around his back.

There’s no need for prep; the teasing of their earlier words is foreplay enough. Back pressed against the wall, her body easily welcomes him in as she braces one arm against the glass shower doors for balance. Any concerns about slipping and falling wash away as they move together like so many times before. She’s sure her nails will leave marks on his back, fingertips digging in for purchase and it’s a guarantee her hips will be littered with fingerprints from his grip, but she can’t find it in her to care, and if the desperate, bruising kiss assaulting her lips is anything to judge from, neither can he.

“So damn good, Doll.” It’s panted against her neck. “Always. So damn perfect for me.” All she can manage is a moan in response.

She feels him twitch inside of her and knows he’s close. So is she, but she can’t quite get there without-

As if he’s read her mind, he reaches between them to touch her where she needs it most, and on instinct, she readjusts, locking her arm around his neck to stay in place. “Let go, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” She couldn’t disobey if she wanted to.

“Fuck.” As her walls contract around him, he pulls out just in time to paint her middle with his release.

“That’s one word for it.” She’s still fighting to catch her breath, but she shoots him a shaky smirk, which he returns.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Barnes.” Snickering, she releases him to stand on unsteady legs and pecks his legs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Barnes.” Maybe there’s something to this holiday after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“You want the last slice?” Bucky considers it for a moment before deciding-

“Nah. You can have it.” It may not be exactly what he planned, but it’s been a good night. Between the two of them, they’ve gone through two large pizzas while watching the new version of Beauty and the Beast (she rolled her eyes when he asked if this was her way of saying he reminds her of a certain hairy, horned character) in their pajamas.

“No, really. You take it. I don’t want it.” She nudges the mostly-empty pizza box towards him. The noise makes Sarge lift his head from where he was snoozing beside her on the sofa. That gives him an idea.

“I don’t want it either, but I can think of someone who does.” He cocks his head towards the now-drooling dog. “How ‘bout it, boy? Wanna help us out?”

Snickering, she picks the pepperonis and pieces of sausage and ham from the pizza, forming a pile. “Here, Sarge. Catch.” She tosses a coveted treat in the air, and Sarge’s jaw snaps, swallowing it whole. “Good boy.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks again.

“You know, I actually did have something planned for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She nods.

“Absolutely. Had a whole seduction plan laid out. Tiny underwear, lacy bra, and stockings with garters included.” Huh. Guess she wouldn’t have taken the “lingerie” option the wrong way. He’ll file that away for future use… along with a mental note to ask her bra size. “That is, until I tried wearing the damn things for longer than an hour. Turns out, hiding a dirty secret under your clothes is more itchy than sexy.”

He can’t help it. He laughs, producing a pout from her which quickly turns into her own quiet laughter.

“Well, that fits in perfectly with my fancy dinner going up in smoke.”

“We really do have shitty luck with the whole “romance” thing.” She’s joking, but he decides to respond anyway.

“I don’t know about that.” Entwining his fingers with hers, he lifts their hands, twin wedding bands catching the light. “You waited five years for me to reappear after the blip, and I convinced you to elope with me. Seems pretty romantic.” Although, that reminds him…

“Don’t move.” Releasing her hand, he stands and goes in search of his phone.

“Bucky, what-”

“Don’t move, Doll. Stay right where you are.” Ah. On the kitchen counter, just where he left it. Jogging back into the room, he resumes his place on the couch next to her. Ignoring her questioning gaze, he pulls up the app and, selecting the correct playlist, hits play.

Immediate recognition blooms on her face at the opening lyrics. “She is the sweetest thing that I know. Should see the way she holds me when the lights go low.” He’s not one for modern music, but when he was googling “songs for Valentine’s Day” and this one popped up, he couldn’t help but think that the lyrics were fitting.

“I didn’t know you’d heard this one.”

He chuckles. “Even old men have a few tricks up their sleeves. That, and a wifi connection.” She rolls her eyes but leans closer, which he takes advantage of to show her the playlist.

“This is the app you use, right?” Receiving a nod, he continues. “Feel free to scroll through and add whatever you want. I haven’t listened to all of them the whole way through, but they seemed to fit the mood.”

Her hand closes over his, covering the phone. “Thank you, Bucky. It’s perfect.”

As the singer goes on about how hearts don’t break around here, he presses his lips against hers.

“I love you, Doll.”

“Love you.”

Not bad for a disastrous Valentine’s Day. Not bad at all.

[twstdreams]

The Draught of Sleeping Death ask was so interesting (and kinda angsty but in a good way!)! Could I please request a part 2 for when their crush actually wakes up after? Thank you! (btw i reread the request and you kinda forgot Jack so if you could plz add both of his reactions to when they drink it and when they wake up i’d appreciate it!)

Please reach out to your local crisis line if you experience any suicidal ideation like wanting to put yourself into a coma!

Here is the previous part! I decided to make scenarios that ended being a bit more difficult than I expected, but I’m pretty happy with it. I hope no one is out of character. Here is some more bittersweet moments and angst! 

Warning: Suicidal and suicidal-esque ideation, attempted comatose state via potion, poor mental health, long post

Ruggie Bucchi

He waits and waits. Your chest continues to rise and fall as any person would. Each moment is excruciating. Even if you had amnesia and forgot all about him, that would be okay as long as you opened your eyes. Suddenly, you sneeze. Ruggie throws his arms around you. He almost wants to laugh. Of course, you wake up sneezing, not fluttering eyes or a gentle smile but a sneeze. 

“Ruggie?” you call out his name gently, surprised to find yourself in his fierce embrace with him clinging onto you so tightly. You ask what’s wrong and he explains your predicament.

“What?!” you shriek, wide-eyed and jaw open. You must have messed up your potion or drank the one wrong because all you wanted was something to give you restful sleep, not a permanent coma. 

“Tch, I can’t believe you drank something so dangerous!” Ruggie chides you for being so careless, making a mental note to take care of you to ensure something like this never happened again. He gently pokes your cheek as if to punish you, but the way you respond with a pout fills him with more relief than he cares to admit. Only the conscious can react after all.

“Wait, does... doesn’t that mean you’re my true love?” you murmur. Soon enough both of your cheeks are painted a blush to rival sunsets in the Afterglow Savannah but a smile worms its way onto your face.

“I’m glad it’s you.” You both share the same sentiment. You pepper his face with butterfly kisses while teasing him about being your knight in shining armour. Each peck helps soothe his heart and reaffirm that you are indeed alive and well.

Leona Kingscholar

His tail waves back and forth as he impatiently waits for any signs of consciousness. It feels like the universe is getting back at him, telling Leona that it’s his turn to wait. The more time passes, the more he wants to curse at the world. It gave him nothing. Not the crown, not the understanding of his family, not the adoration of his people, and now it wouldn’t even let him have you. He stares at the window, unable to bear looking at your body any longer. Almost as if he looked away, he wouldn’t have to accept the possibility that you would remain in an eternal slumber.

“Leona?” your voice croaks and he whips around so fast you’re surprised his neck doesn’t hurt.

“It’s you? You love me?” you ask but you’re met with a grimace from Leona. He knows you know. And since you know that true love’s kiss is the only way to break the spell, it meant you purposefully drank the potion.

“Why?” It’s not a roar. It’s not a demand. It’s barely a question. It’s a whisper to the wind but requires an answer nonetheless.

“I just...I just wanted the pain to end,” you reply, voice cracking halfway through, “It was so much. Too much.” Tears begin welling in your eyes. Just remembering your desolate state when you drank the potion out of sheer desperation threatens to spiral your fragile stability.

“Do I look weak? Dumb?” Leona murmurs. You think it’s supposed to come out as annoyed but his words are too thick with emotion to disguise his sadness.

“No? That’s not what I... What?” You can’t understand what he’s saying and the tears begin to fall down freely from your face. 

“Then, you should share it with me,” he says firmly while sitting down beside you on the bed.

“It?” you repeat while sniffling.

“Anything, everything,” Leona pauses as if carefully considering his words. He suddenly pulls you into a hug, placing your head against his chest. To your surprise, his heart is hammering and you know you’re the cause.

“Your pain, your struggles,” the words are lodged in his throat and Leona struggles not to clam up. He hates being vulnerable, he despises leaving his heart out in the open, practically begging to be stabbed. But he knows that’s what contributed to this mess in the first place. And it hurts. Your eyes are brimming with tears that he caused. So he forges on even if his words are gruff, “You don’t have to do it alone.”

“Promise?” 

“Yeah.” He kisses your forehead to affirm his answer. And then you hold him tightly and cry freely. Your burdens are still heavy and there are some battles you know Leona cannot fight for you. However, you find comfort in his embrace and in the knowledge that he will hold your hand through all the trials. 

Kalim Al Asim

“Hey, hey are you awake?” he asks desperately. You have to wake up. How else are you supposed to go on magic carpet rides with him? Didn’t you say you were excited for Bean day? Weren’t you excited to try out that new cake from the café downtown?

He calls out your name again and again while giving your shoulder a little shake. When your eyes begin to open, Kalim throws himself at you. Tears fall freely from his eyes.

“I’m so glad you’re awake!” It’s a mess as he alternates between sobs and exclamations of happiness. You barely have time to react and pat him on the back.

“Yeah, thanks to you,” you reassure softly. It’s not exactly ideal to have Kalim crying but you’re happy to know he cares so much.

“You know, I’m your true love, right?” he asks, staring you into your eyes with his ruby ones. The bold declaration makes you blush but you nod anyway, “So depend on me okay? I’m here for whatever you need! Anytime! Anywhere! If you’re ever worried, we can sing and dance our troubles away!”

“And if singing and dancing aren’t enough?” Your question doesn’t come from a place of malice but Kalim is silent for a moment while digesting your words.

“Then we can eat, or go on a magic carpet ride!” he responds with confidence, “And if that doesn’t work, we’ll try something else! I won’t give up until you smile!” Tears streak his cheeks, his outfit is a mess, yet you believe him anyway. He brings a shaky grin to your lips.

“Okay.” You give your tear-stained lover a soft kiss. “We’re in this together.”

A couple days pass and yet Kalim asks nothing about the incidence. He simply reminds you that he is here whenever you need and that he adores you. You keep waiting for the inevitable interrogation but it never comes.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about what happened?” you inquire one day while on a carpet ride, knowing that your words will only reach Kalim’s ears and no one else’s.

“I want to.” He answers so quickly that you’re caught off guard, but his next words steal your breath away. “I was going to ask, but I didn’t want to make you sad. I know that... that you were really sad and suffering. And that every time someone brings it up, your smile goes away.” 

He hums out loud while trying to parse together a sentence to express his feelings. Kalim doesn’t want to be oblivious to your feelings and risk destroying this relationship. He wants to do better this time. He wants to be better.

“I ... I don’t know how to ask without hurting you. So, you can just tell me when you’re ready and I’ll listen!” You feel so much relief. You embrace him in a tight hug and murmur words of thanks.

Jamil Viper

There’s a war in Jamil’s heart. Hope dangerously swells within it, wishing that you would wake up. Doubt creeps on the edges, whispering about how his flimsy feelings wouldn’t shake you from the coma’s grasp. He doesn’t know which half is right and the wait is antagonizing.

Your fingers twitch and he calls out your name softly. He wants you to wake up so badly, he can’t even deny it. The amount of emotion eating away at him is unbearable yet it would all be worth it if you only opened your eyes. You who listened. You who understood. You who offered a hand when asked. You who respected his space. You who lit up with a smile whenever he offered you a dish. You who always insisted on cleaning the dishes as payment. You who would drop by with a thermos of tea or a cup of water to make sure he was taking care of himself too. You, whose name is etched in his heart, even if he has trouble admitting it aloud.

Your hand lightly squeezes his own and he intertwines his fingers with yours. He’s never found hand-holding so comforting until now. You’re tired but you try to bring a feeble grin to your face for his sake.

Jamil has so many questions but he starts with the most important one, “How are you feeling?” Your lips press tightly together and you tear your eyes away from his gaze. He squeezes your hand a little but says nothing else.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice wobbles but your words are sincere. His thumb traces circles in the back of your palm, allowing you the decision to continue or not.

“I...” Words are so hard, but you want him to know. Jamil came to your side, didn’t he? He is your true love, isn’t he? You gulp a bit and allow yourself some time to gather courage.

“I, I wanted control. I hate feeling like I can’t control anything. Like this is the only way I can decide for myself, and ...” But words fail you as tears begin falling from your eyes. It’s too much. You can’t decide if you hate yourself or the world more. 

Your words cause his chest to feel tight. Oh he knows, he knows. The desperation, the fear, the anger, the hatred, all emotions that are familiar to him. There is nothing more soul-crushing than to lose control over your own life.

Jamil stays silent, unwilling to offer up empty promises and words laced with pity. Instead, he kisses your tears away. It’s unusually tender, but rather than risk the wrong words, Jamil decides to let actions speak for themselves. He lets each soft peck convey his love, his presence, his commitment. And slowly but surely, your waterfall of tears decreases to a trickle and then nothing at all. 

Jack Howl

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up! WAKE UP!

It’s the only thing he can think of as he stares at your resting form. Jack has never felt so powerless before. No matter how much he trains, it won’t amount to anything because it’s not a magical skill that will bring you back. It’s true love. True love’s kiss. The one thing he doubts he can give you. The one thing no one has managed to give you.

His eyes widen as he hears your breathing begin to increase. Your slow steady pace starts to quicken and his own heart is hammering in his chest. Are you waking up? Jack kneels beside your bed and watches expectantly. Your eyes open to meet your golden ones. Your arms reach out to him tentatively, wondering if he’s merely an illusion. To your surprise, strong arms embrace your body and his hair tickles your skin.

“Jack,” you call out softly and the twitch of his tail lets you know he heard you. However, he says nothing. You expect a couple swift and blunt statements about your idiotic actions but they never come. Instead, with your bodies pressed together, you can feel him tremble. It’s faint, but he’s more shaken than you’ve ever seen Jack. Angry, indignant, confident, embarrassed, and righteous were all emotions you’d seen Jack wear but this was the first time you’d seen him so unsure about someone else. 

“Thank you,” you add, unsure what other sentiments you should share. You worry declarations of any feeling deeper than gratitude will end the moment and Jack will shirk away at such strong emotions. You tighten your grip, hoping at least you can relish in this hug and the comfort it brings.

Jack loosens his hold so he can look straight into your eyes. His gaze is so intense that you want to avert your own yet find yourself unable to do anything but look back. Your name leaves his lips, soft but firm and undeniable. You nod slightly and wait for him to continue.

“I ... you ... that is,” Jack clenches his jaw but pushes forward past his uncertainties and lingering cowardice, “You ... You give me purpose.” You let out a gasp. Jack knows it’s dangerous to attach purpose to someone else, to give them so much power over himself. He’s always wanted to be a man with a true core purpose and your slumber made him realize that it was you. When you were under that spell, he fell apart and that’s why he’s so sure. 

The weight of his words is not lost on you. It’s nothing short of a confession of love that makes your eyes shine with unshed tears. You’re amazed at the depth of his feelings and how far you two have come.

“I love you.” Your words are simple and clear, delivered with a sincere smile. Even though Jack knows this, you are his true love after all, it still manages to make him blush. You let out a small laugh but before Jack can retort, you seal his lips with a kiss.

[winchester19-67]

Taking Care of You

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Passing out, Little bit of angst, Fluff

Word Count: 1,774

Square Filled: Bed Sharing (Fluff Bingo)

Square Filled: Bed Sharing (Dean Bingo)

Request by @theichabbieclub:  Hello !!! Can I have Dean Winchester x reader? Reader has been so caught up in her work that they forget to eat. They get extremely lightheaded and stumble a little. Dean steadies them and he is worried when he finds out they forgot to eat. While he is making food they faint and land (luckily) on the couch. When he's done, he comes back,at first he thinks that they're just laying down but he kinda freaks out when he realizes that reader is unconscious. ( I forget to eat sometimes) THANK YOU🥺💚

A/N: This was written for @spnfluffbingo, @spndeanbingo, and @supernatural-jackles​ Bi Weekly Writing Challenge with the prompt. “We found each other. That’s all that matters.”

“Take a break.” You jump a bit and you turn around to see Dean walking into the library.

“I can’t,” you mumble before looking down at the book that you have in your hand. Dean walks over and carefully slides the book out of your hand before setting it down onto the table.

“Yes you can,” Dean says. You roll your eyes a bit before leaning over, but Dean blocks you before you’re able to grab the book off of the table.

“Dean…”

“How many hours of sleep have you gotten since yesterday?”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know. Three maybe.”

“Go take a nap.”

“Dean, you and Sam told me that you need my help with this case. You two can do your part now please let me do mine.”

“You won’t be able to help at all if you keep running yourself into the ground.”

“I’m alright,” you tell Dean stubbornly as you turn around to walk over to a bookshelf. You’re halfway there when you lose your balance and almost fall to the floor.

“Woah!” Dean hollers as he throws his arm out to catch you before you face plant. He helps you to get your balance and you give him a grateful smile.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Dean says. “Now please go take a nap or eat something or whatever it is you need to do to take care of yourself. I’ll take over for a while and you can relax.”

“No,” you tell him. “Dean, you won’t hardly let me hunt anymore and I get it because I keep you both distracted because you worry about me too much. Fine. I’ll give up hunting. But I will not give up helping you and Sam and you are going to have to get that through your thick head.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not saying that you should quit helping us,” Dean tells you softly. “You have no clue how much Sammy and I appreciate everything that you do for us. All I’m asking is that you slow down a bit to take care of yourself.”

“I promise you that I am taking care of myself, Dean.”

“Okay, then, what all have you eaten today and don’t you dare lie to me.”

You think about it for a while before you answer Dean. “I guess that I’ve kind of forgotten to do that today.”

“(Y/N),” Dean tells you as his eyes widen a bit.

“Sorry, but it isn’t exactly a priority to me right now.”

“If you were actually taking care of yourself then it would be,” Dean tells you. “Take a seat. I’m going to go cook you something to eat.”

“Dean…” He ignores your arguing and turns to walk on out of the library anyways. Sighing, you grab the book off of the table once more and open it up.

As you read, your eyes start to lose their focus and it almost looks like the room is spinning. You get the same light-headed feeling that you’d had earlier when you tripped, so you decide to play it safe and sit down in one of the chairs in the library. It isn’t long until the entire room looks like it’s spinning once more before everything goes black.

“You didn’t give me a specific request for anything, but I know you said that you like tomato soup when you don’t feel good, so I hope that’s okay,” Dean tells you as he walks into the library carrying a bowl. Dean frowns when he sees that you’ve fallen asleep in one of the chairs. He knows that you need rest but he also knows that you need to eat while your soup’s hot. “(Y/N),” Dean says softly as he sets the bowl down onto the table in front of you. “(Y/N), sweetheart.”

Dean reaches over to gently push some hair out of your face and he frowns a bit when you don’t move. “(Y/N), you need to eat,” Dean tells you as he pushes at your shoulder a bit. He still doesn’t get a reaction out of you and his heart starts pounding a bit when he realizes that you’re not just asleep.

“Hey!” Dean hollers as he moves you a bit harder than he was. A small gasp escapes you and you slowly open your eyes. Dean lets out a breath of relief when your eyes open. “You scared me there for a minute, sweetheart.”

“I was only asleep,” you mutter as you let your eyes slide shut once more.

“Hey, don’t go to sleep until you’ve eaten a little something for me,” Dean tells you softly as he helps you to sit up a bit. “I don’t want to argue with you, sweetheart, but I gotta tell you that you weren’t just asleep. You passed out on me.”

“No I didn’t,” you mumble.

“Yes you did and now you need to try to stay awake so that you’re able to get some food in you,” Dean tells you. “I promise that I’ll let you go to sleep if you’ll eat a little bit.”

“Fine,” you sigh as you lazily reach over to grab the spoon. You have to admit that the soup feels good going down your throat, and yet the thought of curling up underneath your warm blankets and going to sleep is even more appealing. “There. I ate a little bit and now you have to let me go to bed.”

“Half the bowl,” Dean says.

“Another spoonful,” you argue.

Dean sighs. “If you eat all of it then I’ll carry you to bed and I’ll even lay down with you,” he negotiates.

“Fine, I’ll let you win,” you smile up at him.

“I know how to get my way with you,” Dean smirks as he leans over your chair to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Yeah, you think that you know me soo well,” you tease as you take another bite. When every drop of soup is gone from the bowl, you look over at Dean and hold your arms up at him. Dean chuckles as he walks over and bends down to take you into his arms. You wrap your arms tightly around his neck and you lay your head over onto his shoulder.

“Your room or mine?” Dean asks you softly.

“Doesn’t matter,” you mumble as you completely relax in Dean’s arms.

“Don’t go to sleep on me yet, sweetheart,” Dean chuckles as he carries you into his room. He carefully lays you down onto his bed and you curl up on the side that he usually sleeps on. “Scoot,” Dean laughs as he pushes you over before laying down beside of you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in tightly to him.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” you whisper into Dean’s chest.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, pretty girl,” Dean tells you softly. “But I do want you to start doing a better job of it yourself. You can’t keep running yourself down like that.”

“I know,” you breathe out. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“I worry about you.

“I know.”

“I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“I know.”

“You know a lot then,” Dean teases as he tucks your head underneath his chin. You giggle and hide your face in the side of his neck.

“How on earth did I find you?” you ask him.

“Actually, I think that I’m the one who found you,” Dean says.

“Well, one of us is wrong here and it isn’t me,” you tease.

Dean chuckles as he pulls the blankets up over you. “We found each other. That’s all that matters.”

“Agreed,” you tell him as you snuggle down deeper into his arms.

“(Y/N), sweetheart, we honestly do appreciate you helping us out but you have got to promise me that you’ll take a break every once in a while. Get out and have some fun or take a nice long bath. Eat something.”

“I get so focused on helping you and Sam that I forget to take care of myself sometimes.”

“Well, please don’t do that anymore because you honestly scared me today.”

“I’m sorry,” you frown.

“It’s just… Sweetheart, you didn’t ask to be thrown into this life yet here you are and you deserve to take a break and do the things that you love to do.”

“You didn’t ask to be thrown into it either and yet you still don’t take a break.”

“Yeah, but I could have gotten out of it if I wanted to.”

“So could I,” you tell him softly. “If I have to start taking better care of myself and doing the things that I love to do then so do you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I do that everyday anyways,” Dean tells you.

“Oh, like what?” you ask him.

“Taking care of you,” Dean says softly. Your heart melts a bit and you turn your head up so that you can see his face.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Dean smiles softly. “I mean, someone has to do it because you suck at it.” Dean grunts as you elbow him playfully and you let out a small laugh.

“I’ll do better at taking care of myself,” you tell him. “Although I don’t know why I would want to because you obviously do a much better job at it then me.”

“Ah, she admits it,” Dean laughs as you roll your eyes a bit at him.

“Go to sleep, Winchester.”

“Alright, but I’m getting up tomorrow and I’m going to cook you a big breakfast and you are going to eat so that you don’t scare me like that and pass out on me anymore.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“Brat,” Dean chuckles as he presses his lips gently to your temple.

“I’m your brat,” you giggle. “Dean, thanks for letting me sleep in your bed.”

“Like you’d have it any other way,” he chuckles.

“Your bed’s more comfortable then mine is though.”

“They’re the same thing.”

“Yeah, but you’re here to hold me and that makes it more comfortable.”

“And I couldn’t hold you just as well on your bed?”

“Yeah, but my bed doesn’t smell like you.”

“It should with how often I sleep there.”

“I don’t make the rules.”

“What?” Dean chuckles.

“I don’t know. I’m too tired to make any sense,” you yawn.

“Well, then go to sleep,” Dean chuckles as he kisses your lips. “I’m right here to take care of you if you need me.”

You smile and you let your eyes slide shut, mumbling one more thing before you let the sleep pull you under. “I’ll always need you.”

Tags: @polina-93 @adoptdontshoppets @justanotherwinchester @blue-pink-green @spnbaby-67 @deanwanddamons @defenderrosetyler @mlovesstories @akshi8278 @idksupernatural @hobby27 @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @therollingstoners

[fandom-sheep]

Eret 11 MAY 21

Cat and DSMP Part 1/1

Cat! Goose!

Goose my beloved.

Eret’s streaming very late for me again. So I’m not staying the whole time.

Hello Elaina. Enjoy Goose.

Fundy! Kinda...

Fundy hearing the donations. LOL.

Fundy enters a stream and it starts to scuffed. Scuffed just follows Fundy wherever he goes.

A wild my beloved on the cube.

The Drista stairs.

Wait what. Why is the tower gone?

I have missed some lore.

Ah... it’s part of the nightmare thing.

Eret offering Fundy housing like a good almost adoptive parent.

Sneeze? OH WOW SNEEZE.

Sounds like Fundy about lost a lung. Good gracious.

The bargaining between these two.

Cat, Handsome, said cube was massive

You know what that works.

It’s hard to keep the audio right for Eret’s stream for my headphones. It’s either too quiet or the loudest my headphones can go and my family can hear it.

On stream explosions. Noice.

Wow youtooz. Not super cool. Permission is usually a good thing.

Eret keeps on sizzling.

Getting dirt for scaffolding. Going old fashioned Minecraft for this.

“Why is the Cube kinda hot” cue Eret losing faith in her chats sanity.

Cube go poof.

Oh. Red stone. That’s dangerous.

I like this song. Oh klahoma. Gorgeous song.

Love joy is such a fun band. I want to make a plushy of the cat.

It’s kinda sad that Eret can’t see themselves the way chat and their little fandom sees them. Most all of us think they look fabulous.

Not Arson. Just bombing. A bit of anarchy by the king.

Demolition. Now there’s the word.

Controlled ish demolition.

Ah I’ve almost saved enough channel points for water. Nice. I’m not going to redeem it I’m just going to keep hoarding the points.

Flame Arrow. Nice.

Eret cleaning up the SMP eye sours.

Watch me attempt to sleep to Eret here in an hour or so, but keep getting distracted.

Explosion time.

Someone get ready to clip it.

Bye Bye Cube. Let’s go.

Gotta get a song that fits the vibe.

Hayloft. Time to go poof.

Turning up my brightness just to watch this explosion in the best way possible.

Still wearing the red dress I see.

I hope the music isn’t too loud to get this part muted.

Drum roll...

Drum roll continues...

Drum roll still going...

THERE GOES THE CUBE!

That was so smooth and good looking!

Overall a very good explosion.

Just a little bit of a hole in the other building.

Twitch Pr-

Poor being’s so confused with his hair. Someone help them.

Twitch bleep.

Everyone attempting to give hair styling advice. Everyone’s trying to help the being.

That bird is majestic. I remember seeing that tiktok.

Animals just decided Eret was the animal whisperer.

Yes! Disney Princess Eret fanart! Someone make it, I shall reblog all of it.

Likes to hug cute animals and cute animals like being hugged by her. Nice.

It’s alright. Names are difficult. I have to like put name tags on people to learn who they are. That or name tags on their space (like on campers bunks and door decs on dorms)

It does feel very February. But I’m very ready for summer because that means I get to do my favorite job.

Hooray. I hit 15k points.

Eret trying to prove to us a ponytail won’t work. Like we aren’t going to hype them up no matter what.

Gotta heart in the chat. All Eret’s chat does is hearts and encourage. It’s a lovely place.

Oh Eret forgot his cat ear sub goal. It’s alright I know I forgot.

Pride is next month. Nice.

Oh. We’re almost halfway already. Why does the world spin so quickly?

We forgot a dirt tower. Whoops.

I would wear Eret merch. I like it when people release merch around Christmas. Then I can ask for it as a gift.

Oh it wasn’t a dirt tower.

Just looking at Elaina’s stream in the stream selection screen it like very cozy.

All the way up the Drista stairs.

Look it’s the museum!

Eret’s got most of the builds around there. The museum. The fortress. Nice.

Some things are too historical to remove. Somethings are historical because they are being removed.

Oh no. L’sandburg.

It’s taking over the summer home.

Ah the lore is coming. It just seemed to be too early.

Hello unofficial ranboo Raiders.

Foolish making the awesome tall thingy!

Foolish’s builds are so neat. I want to watch Foolish’s streams more. Maybe just in the background but I start wanting to delayed liveblog and that requires attention.

Oh the giant portal turned out well. Sorry that was the lady’s foolish stream I watched.

Shulkers. The forbidden mob.

Eret with just a pit in the desert filled with llamas. Bones. And discus.

The mansion has been finished?

Alright is better than bad. It’s alright to be alright.

Lucky being not getting tired. I got the Johnson and Johnson vaccine and I was so so tired. I also had just no appetite.

Eret doing an smp tour. And looking at foolish’s builds.

Flickering the switch on the rainbow beacons.

Eret just knowing where everything is.

Kinoko is super pretty. Just for the aesthetic value of the kingdom I appreciate it.

Yeet. Just defenestrated himself out the window.

Oh? Spectator fly over the smp?

That would be really neat to like. Watch in VR. I think I’ve only used VR maybe twice.

Pretty Rainbow beacons.

The nurse who gave me my vaccine hid the needle from me because I mentioned to her that I was afraid of needles. It wasn’t a big deal at all.

30 minutes till I attempt sleep. Woo.

Goose my beloved. Someone make the gif because I’m not quite sure how to make it.

Oh yeah. Goose in Marvel. I hear MCU and think Minecraft cinematic universe. Not marvel.

Ghibli is so nice. It really romanticize small moments of life.

Yeah the characters are all really supportive in Ghibli movies.

Someone subbed for nine months “that’s enough to make a child” -Eret

That mansion is like a maze. I’m so lost already.

Everyone encouraging Eret and telling her she looks pretty. Good.

Eret needs all the hype and encouragement.

Antarctic empties flag. Yeah it does have a similar color pallet.

Michelle! Hello!

Fortress work. Nice.

Do it. I’ll listen the Eret play other games.

I don’t usually watch game play for non Minecraft games. But I’ll listen to it all.

Hbomb and Eret living in the same city feels like two worlds that shouldn’t meet. But it’s awesome that they have.

TOS means against twitches terms of service. Nice. Glad to finally have an explanation of what that means.

Look at our handsome and pretty streamer. All the hype.

I keep turning down the stream to hear the show my mama has on because I’m curious about what happens.

Yeah. Backseat gaming can be annoying. That’s part of why I share my thoughts here just in case I do start backseat gaming.

Almost to the sub goal. Hooray!

Ooo food.

No no. I see where they are coming from. Eret does give a bit of cat bus vibes. I can’t explain it but the vibes are there.

Creeper causing issues at the fortress.

Ed Sheepran my beloved.

I should draw more ferrets. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe I’ll draw us doing stuffs.

Actually I kinda want to make a little animatic of some heels walking across the screen followed by a hoard of ferrets. I think it’ll look cool. But I need the artistic ability and the ability to not scream making that.

Woop. Ad time. Off to the void of where ever the ads game me.

OH THE NEW VOID LOOKS COOL!

Bread. Flowers. Ted. Crown. And of course Eret.

We V O I D and get our streamer bits.

Hush the chat is V O I D and the occasional emoji or emote.

The void being centered looks good. Maybe that’s just the symmetry speaking but it’s good.

Oh. We hear the being. The being in void mode. And spooky mode.

Chat just starts yelling corpse.

Hydration. I try to stay hydrated. But I fail often if I’m not doing something active.

Tree!

Casually makes and snags tree.

Eret does read chat often. It’s strange. And it is weird how often it ends up being you.

You can tell I’m a tumblr peep. I may say stuff in chat but I’m fully not expecting or wanting to be noticed by the streamer.

Others hitting darkness o’clock and saying goodnight.

It’s sleep to the stream hours y’all. Whoop.

I need to visit the parks out west. I’ve only really seen the eastern US ones. But I have been to the Great Smokey Mountain park which is gorgeous.

Eret thinking of his friends triggers when naming his cat.

Eret’s builds are so casually pretty. Not like Foolish’s which are intricately pretty. Not like Phil’s or Sam’s which are complicated pretty. All pretty. Just different breeds of pretty.

Alrighty. It’s sleepy hours for me. As much as I love Eret I want to read some fanfiction and daydream a bit before I head to sleep.

Have a good rest everyone and may all your coming meals be delicious.

Wait no is it our turn with goose?

OUR TURN WITH GOOSE!

Eret honey that’s the ceiling.

Cat stream. Cat stream.

Sleepy kitty. A cat cam would be good.

Yeah. That happens with cats. Especially strays.

Goose captured the computer mouse.

Goose straight up chose Eret and Elaina.

Goose really just chose not to leave.

Oh my stream connection is acting sad. But I want Goose content.

I want to draw Goose now.

Maybe I’ll do water color for Goose. I know I tried to do that with Boots (Fundy’s cat)

Hopefully there will be some Goose face screenshots I can see. Maybe I can see him well in the Tiktok.

Artists just violently refusing payment. Sounds about right. The MCYT artists just kinda go “yeah give credit and we cool”

Cowboy cat. Nice.

I want to paint Goose in the cowboy hat.

Hype train! That we are zooming.

Bucket sponge?

WATER BUCKET FROM WET SPONGE! Tiktok people giving all the cool info.

Go Goose. Catch the computer mouse and the screen mouse.

Just sitting here at 11:30 at night getting screen shots of Goose for painting purposes.

Goose please. Look at the camera babe.

My phone is dying. And I can’t charge it and type.

Alright the camera is off the cat. The cat is also blocking the screen.

But no cat on camera means I’m getting some sleep. If I do any of the projects I’ve mentioned I’ll let y’all know.

Have a good rest everyone.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @saraben00 @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane

~^~

Monday, 14:12

Song: gnash - i hate you, i love you

Lucas tugs absentmindedly at a loose thread on his pillowcase as he waits for the boys. He’s been staring blankly at his laptop screen for a quarter hour already, the only tab open to Jens’s Instagram. Devoid of any new posts but with recent messages that Lucas still hasn’t responded to.

Maybe he’s overreacting, but he physically can’t do it. Not after hearing Jens explain that he’d ditched him for Jana. Without so much as a single warning.

It had taken Lucas over half an hour of waiting like a fool and sending Jens messages before he was able to admit to himself that he’d been stood up. He’d gotten Jens’s urgent apology when he was already halfway home, and at that stage, he’d struggled to care what the excuse was. He was tired of feeling stupid. He was angry.

He still is, but he also misses Jens already.

The tone of an incoming video call stops him from falling into that pit of self-pity, and he answers with probably a little too much enthusiasm. He doesn’t care, though, as Kes and Jayden pop into view on his screen, grinning just as ridiculously, cheering as soon as they can see Lucas. Lucas ducks closer to his screen and examines, noting that they seem to be in Jayden’s room and both have a little more scruff on their chins than when he’d last seen them. Weeks ago, he reminds himself. This is his first time seeing his best friends—the people he used to talk to everyday—in weeks.

“Hi,” he says, giddy, already grinning wider than he has in days.

“Hey,” Jayden leans in to examine him closer, blocking Kes and beaming. “I was hoping I could be like ‘you’ve changed’ but you haven’t even changed your hair, Lucas. It looks like you’ve been frozen in time since you left.”

Lucas snorts as Kes shoves him out of the way. “Shut up, Jayden. You look fucking great, Luc. I missed that pretty face.”

“Funny,” Lucas muses, “I haven’t thought about your’s once since I left.”

Kes squawks, and then he’s leaning forward to take up the frame, pointing a finger at Lucas threateningly. He then turns it towards himself and circles the air in front of his face. “You love this face. Don’t even try to lie to me.”

It is a lie, so Lucas doesn’t bother arguing any further. He’s missed them both more than he’s willing to express, for surety they’ll make fun of him in response. They do, however, still have their own ridiculous grins stuck on their faces, so maybe Lucas is judging them too harshly.

“Are you going to tell me what I’ve been missing then?”

Jayden scoffs. “You’re the only thing that’s missing, man. It’s boring as hell without you.”

Lucas shakes his head. “Come on, you’re seriously trying to tell me you haven’t gotten in any trouble the whole time I was away.”

“Well, no one said that.”

Kes rolls his eyes and offers Lucas a shrug. “There hasn’t been much, man. You’ve only been gone three weeks.”

“I’ve already been gone three whole weeks, you mean,” Lucas raises a brow, even though the realisation sinks in and scares him. He’s only been here a little over three weeks. He hadn’t known Jens for the first one, meaning it has hardly taken any time for Lucas to develop such a strong, ridiculous crush on him.

Really, can he even call it a crush? The word feels much too tame to describe the force of his feelings, sometimes.

He has to swallow down the sudden anxiety crawling up his throat as Kes says, “Surely you have more exciting things to talk to us about then.”

“Yeah,” Jayden urges. “You get to meet all the new people. Did you find any of the hot girls yet?”

Kes bumps his arm. “Luc doesn’t have to find the hot girls. They come to him. It’s weird as fuck, man.”

“Fuck you,” Lucas retorts, and it’s half-hearted. His chest feels tight, all of a sudden, and there’s a heaviness that sinks into his stomach and takes root. It’s a weight that had slowly began to drift away, as Lucas let himself drift and entertain the possibility of accepting that part of him. Of thinking that part could be known alongside all the rest without changing anything. He’s reminded now, with his best friends of years looking at him, that it’ll never be that easy. “There are plenty of girls that I’m sure you couldn’t get, yeah.”

The boys both ‘oh’ dramatically in response and Lucas rolls his eyes fondly, even as the ache in him does nothing to dissipate. His smile still feels tight, stretched thin, and he feels suddenly helpless. He’d been hoping that seeing them would put him at ease, would make him feel normal, would allow him to stop thinking about his dad, still at work, and his mother, still in Utrecht, and Jens, still being avoided.

He supposes he should have known better.

“You can at least tell us about this new fancy friend group of yours,” Kes says, casual and genuine, and Lucas wishes the simple request didn’t make him feel worse, but it does.

He forces a shrug. “They’re cool.”

“That’s it?” Jayden scoffs. “Come on, tell us who’s the pretty boy you’re always with, at least. We have to know something about our replacements, yeah?”

“They’re definitely not replacements,” Lucas assures. “No one could replace you. I wish I could just come back.”

The boys share a look, and when they turn back to him, they’ve softened. Lucas’s chest only grows tighter, the ache more thorough. He misses them now even more than he had that first week, when he’d been left feeling completely alone, even wishing for the presence of his dad on occasion just to have the company. It hurts twice as much to be reverted back to the stage when he’d had a taste of something different.

“We’d love that, too, Luc,” Kes promises, and Lucas misses him so much he could cry, and he almost does when he goes on to ask, “Are the pretty boys not even treating you right?”

Lucas shrugs, looking back down at that loose thread on his pillow, smoothing his hand over it this time to feel the bump under his fingers. “They’re cool. Some of them do remind me of you guys. Aaron’s kind of the funny one, I guess, and Moyo’s really cool and kind of freaked me out at first. But they’re nice. Then there’s Robbe, he’s the smaller one with the curly hair? He’s sweet. But his boyfriend, Sander, is really cool. He’s studying art.”

He watches them intently over the word ‘boyfriend’, but nothing in their expression changes other than their smiles widening fondly at the mention of art.

“You’ve already found your perfect clique, then,” Jayden teases. “So what part are you? Still the nice face?”

Lucas shakes his head and pulls the thread. “That’s Jens.”

“That’s right,” Kes drawls. “‘Jensrolt’, yeah? You mentioned him before too.”

Lucas nods. “He was the first one of them I met, so.”

“He seems pretty cool. He’s got the chill, Kes-like vibes,” Jayden muses, elbowing his friend, and it’s enough to finally drag another proper smile out of Lucas.

“He does kinda remind me of Kes, actually.”

“What, ‘cause he took pity on you or because he’s hot as fuck?” Kes raises his brows cheekily and Lucas resists the urge to answer honestly by simply saying ‘both’. Instead he focuses on his best friend calling his crush hot as fuck. Which is weird, but not wrong.

But really weird.

“Maybe because he’s full of himself,” Jayden raises his brows at Lucas, exaggeratedly, mocking, and he and Lucas both laugh as Kes tries to shove him off the bed. Lucas watches them wrestle and glances at his phone.

“I think he might be too pretty and too cool for me, actually,” Lucas mumbles.

Kes and Jayden both stop and look at him, and they’ve lost all previous hints of amusement. “What do you mean?” Jayden asks. “Is he being a dick?”

Lucas shrugs again. “I’m probably just overthinking. I was supposed to hang out with him yesterday and he couldn’t make it, that’s all.”

“He couldn’t make it as in he cancelled on you or he stood you up?” Kes prods.

“It wasn’t a date,” Lucas says, too snappish, too petulant. They can both see right through him. “But he stood me up,” he mumbles.

“Fuck that. Like it’s not hard enough to get used to new friends without them being assholes. Did he tell you why?” Jayden asks.

“He was meeting up with his ex-girlfriend.”

“Fuck that. How long were you waiting for him?”

“Like half an hour? Then I gave up and left. He text me to tell me he forgot because she’d asked him to meet up.”

Jayden scoffs as Kes frowns. “It seemed like you two were getting on well before, though. He’s been friendly enough so far, right?”

“Yeah, he’s been cool right from the start and I thought it was great. I’d found friends. And then he completely forgot I existed. And now I wanna come home to you guys.”

“He obviously didn’t completely forget about you,” Jayden attempts to comfort. “Maybe he had something else going on, too.”

“Yeah, Luc. And if he did then he sucks and you can get better friends than that. But you like them, right? The whole group. And you should trust your own judgment. You’re pissed right now but it probably is a genuine mistake and you probably know it.”

Lucas considers this for a moment and begrudgingly admits that he’s probably right. Kes beams and adds, “But for now, we can say fuck him. It’s us time. Did you talk to your dad about coming down another weekend?”

“Not yet,” Lucas says, sinking into the pillow behind him. “Right now I still have a curfew.”

Jayden snorts. Kes elbows him. “Is he there? We could try to talk him around.”

“No, he’s working. As usual.”

“Fuck that,” Jayden repeats. “Man, you’re lucky you have us. Jens is the last straw. If he fucks up, you tell us, and we’re coming over there to steal you back, okay?”

Lucas laughs, and reminds himself that he is lucky.

[aspenflower17]

Finding You (Part Fifteen of ??)

Goodness gracious, I’m back, and excited to be here. I just had the weirdest two weeks, so I apologize about not updating last week. Luckily, I just stayed home today and was able to write most of this chapter. Here is a link for anyone who’s new and wants to start over at the beginning: Part One.

A couple notes: I totally forgot I wanted to add a dream sequence to part fourteen, so I added it first thing in this update. It is a rewrite of part of Satan’s “The Search of Self” Devilgram so there might be some spoilers. I also missed you all so much! Honestly, I’ve been feeling kinda down lately and haven’t even had much motivation to play Obey Me (or do much of anything), so being able to hang out on Tumblr today and see all the posts has helped me get some of my inspiration back! I also bought a Chromebook and I'm still getting used to it. If the formatting goes weird, please let me know so I can fix it.

Tags for the beauties: @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb @mammonismyfirstman

Word Count: 3293

Warnings: Possible spoilers for the first season (though I think I’ve had some before so...), spoilers for Satan’s “The Search for Self” Devilgram story (it’s not the full story and I added a lot)

Mc followed Satan to a fairly large building. Satan, still so weird to say, had asked her if she wanted to go around the Devildom with him. The letters above the door were illegible, seeing as how the Devildom had their own language and alphabet, but she instantly knew where they were when they walked in, “You took me to an art gallery?!”

“Oh, seems like I made a good choice,” Satan looked a tad shocked, but then smiled, “I like to come here to get away from stuff and clear my head.”

“So, are these like human art galleries?” Mc asked.

“I think so? Naturally, they have older, historically significant paintings, but they also exhibit pieces created by young, up-and-coming artists. And they’re always holding interesting events. It’s a lot of fun… Are you interested in art, Mc?”

“Yeah, I am,” Mc answered.

“Ah, is that so? I’ve got a feeling you and I might get along, then. I really love art.”

Mc felt her heart thill at his words. She’d been interested in the blonde fourth-born the second she’d seen him, and her interest seemed to be well founded.

Satan continued on about why he loved art, and though there was brand new art for her to look at, all she could do was hang watch Satan and hang onto his every word. He wasn’t saying anything she herself didn’t think, but just being here with him was giving her butterflies.

“... If you’re nervous about coming here alone, then say the word, and I’ll join you anytime.”

“Ah, that’s so nice of you. Now that I know this place exists, I’m definitely going to need to visit often.”

“You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?” he was watching her, eyebrow quirked, but with a soft smile.

“Of course! Not only do I have a whole new history to learn about, but there’s even new art!”

Satan chuckled, “Well, I’m glad you’re actually interested in art. It really is important not to focus only on your outward appearance like Asmo, because the person you are on the inside has a way of showing through on the outside as well.”

“I agree. Too many people’s beauty is only skin deep.”

“Exactly. Incidentally, it looks like they’re having a contemporary art exhibit here today. Shall we go check it out?”

“Definitely. I hope demon modern art is better than, “Four Blue Squares on Canvas”.”

“Wait… Really?”

“Yup. It’s a real art piece I saw in my University’s art museum.”

“So, was it really…”

“Just four blue squares on a white canvas, all equidistant from each other.”

Satan blinked a couple times, “Well, I hope ours is better too.”

They entered an exhibit space. Mc found herself a little disappointed, as she saw some of the same stange, abstract, postmodern art she would’ve seen at a human art gallery. Satan noticed the change and hurried to explain, “This is the human art wing. Many of the “lost” art pieces you’ve heard about can be found in collections here in the Devildom or in some of our galleries. This gallery is curated by Lord Diavolo, as advised by Barabatos, Lucifer and myself. Right now I believe this collection was put together by Lucifer.”

“Ah. That makes sense,” Mc stated, lips pursed as she looked around, making Satan laugh.

The duo continued through the gallery, Mc stopping every-so-often to examine a piece that caught her eye. Satan knew the artist’s name and the medium of almost every piece, though there were a few that were new to him too.

“Check out this work here. The use of color is so novel, so original. It’s very eye catching.”

Mc leaned down to read the museum label, “You know, that reddish color really reminds me of… Oh…”

“Human blood? Yeah, I thought as much. Though the smell had been dampened, probably diluted with water, it’s still unmistakable,” Satan answered absentmindedly. Finally seeing Mc’s discomfort, he quickly tried to backpedal, “I’m sorry. I forgot human noses aren’t as... sensitive as demons. This artist makes pieces that stimulate multiple senses. She’s an acquaintance of mine. This piece in particular incorporates the blood of… Seven distinct creatures, demons included.”

“Oh… Which one is the demon blood?”

“The black. If I’m not mistaken, she used her own blood for this piece,” Mc nodded, the art more macabre than she’d originally thought, “Well, there’s a lot more to see than just this. Let’s see, what’s over here in this space?” They walked through an archway into a room that held a huge installation. A lot of strange items filled the room, some on pedestals, or the ground, while others hung from near translucent strings from the ceiling. The lighting in the room was generally low, specific spotlights or illumination obviously very strategically placed. A low glow on the floor marked a pathway that allowed the viewer to wander around the room.

“Wow! Now this is very interesting,” Satan breathed, eyes glittering, “See? Check it out. At first glance it looks like a bunch of random stuff scattered all over the place, doesn’t it? But actually, every piece of rope, string and crumpled paper has been arranged very meticulously. It actually depicts a war between a dragon and an army of angels. If you want proof, look at it from the side. It looks as if the dragon is over powering the army. Buuuut,” Satan continued excitedly rushing over to the other side of the room, “When you look from this other angel here, it seems the angels have the upper hand.”

“Interesting, because, from where I’m standing, I can see Earth.”

“Wait, really?” Satan moved to where Mc was and bent down so he could view it from her height, “Would you look at that. I don’t think I ever would’ve seen that. How interesting… Very nice find,” he complimented, his smile, words and proximity making Mc’s cheeks heat up.

They spent some more time in the room, though they didn’t find any other secrets. They both vowed to come back however to search some more. They then spent more time in the gallery before Satan suggested they head out to get some refreshments at a new cafe in the Devildom.

“Thank you for that Satan,” Mc grinned, “That was some much needed mental refreshment.”

“No, thank you Mc. It can be difficult to get any of my brothers to spend time with me in a manner that I enjoy, and even harder still for them not to annoy me in the process, so I usually end up going around on my own. It was invigorating having someone with me who also appreciates art,” He grinned at her again, making her heart flutter. She could definitely get used to spending time with the Avatar of Wrath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mc blinked awake. That was the second dream she’d had that seemed more than just a dream. She could still remember the first in clear detail, though her dreams usually started fading once she woke up. The only other time she’d experienced something like this was her memory of being a Wanderer. But… This couldn’t possibly be like that. That was a memory, and these were just the result of finally being able to talk to and spend time with the demon she’d admired for so long… Right? She shook her head, the large questions the dreams brought up already giving her a headache. She grabbed her DDD blinking at the light it gave off. After her eyes adjusted she saw a new message alert. Opening it she smiled. Seems like he'd finally opened up her letter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dude, just read it.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Belphie sighed and got up, grabbing the letter off of the kitchen counter.

“What are you doing?” Satan asked.

“Well, if you’re not going to open it, I will. I can’t believe you didn’t read and respond to it that night.  Honestly, you’re one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom and you can’t even-” he was cut off by Satan grabbing the letter from him, the seal already halfway broken.

“I will open it myself, thank you.”

“Then do it,” Belphie said, unaffected by Satan’s anger.

Satan narrowed his eyes, and turned back to the letter in his hands. Logically, he understood why he was nervous, and usually knowing the why behind a feeling would help him get it under control, but that had never worked with any feelings toward Mc. He had hoped this time around would be different, and he was almost more nervous than before. There seemed to be so much more riding on her returned affection than before. Cautiously, he broke the rest of the seal on the envelope, and pulled the letter out/

Dear Satan,

I would love to get coffee with you sometime! If I can be even half as engaging as last time, I’ll consider it a job well done. To help us plan that and talk more easily in the future, I included my number ;) Once you text me, I have a secret to share with you.

Satan blinked a couple times. He turned the letter over to see if she’d written anything on the back. No such luck. Was that really all she’d written?

“Forever the tease I see.”

“... Did you just read that over my shoulder?”

“Well, when you delay as much as you did, and then have that kind of reaction, who wouldn’t? Anyway, you should text her.”

“I… Yes, you’re right. I definitely should,” Satan said grabbing his DDD. He opened the messaging app, typed in her number and… just sat there.

“You good?”

“Hmmm? Oh, yeah. I’m just not sure how to start the-”

He was cut off by Belphie grabbing his DDD, typing something, and then tossing it back to him, “There you go. I’m going to go sleep now. It’s way past my bedtime.”

“Wait, what did you even-”

“Night,” Belphie called from the doorway before walking out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Satan was reading when his DDD meowed that he had a message. He almost threw the book he was reading into the air as he lunged for his DDD which was on the table next to him. He didn’t even have time to be embarrassed at his over-the-top-reaction.

Satan: A secret? 

Mc: Yes :D

My name is not Jane Doe, though 

I’m sure you’ve already

surmised that much

Satan: I thought as much, though it really isan ingenious alias.

Mc: Thank you! I thought so too 

Satan: So… Do I get to know what you’re

real name is?

Mc: Hmmm… What if I want to go get

 that coffee with you before

 I divulge that information?

Satan: We’ll just have to go get that coffee then.

Mc:

When?

Satan: Whenever you’d like. I am free today.

Only if you want though.

Mc: Okay! Shall we say… 16:00?

Satan: As long as there’s no last minute RAD Student Council meetings called, that should be perfect

Mc: Well, if there is, I’ll just have to come

 tell everyone you already made plans.

I’ve been meaning to visit RAD anyway.

Satan:

Oh how I’d love to see Lucifer’s reaction

to that.

Mc:

Satan: Wait… Shouldn’t you be asleep right now?

It’s rather late.

Mc: I was asleep, but…

Satan: Bad dream?

Mc: No actually. Quite the opposite.

I just can’t stop thinking now.

Satan: Ah. I understand that.

Anything I can do to help?

Mc: Would you talk to me a bit longer? Maybe tell me about thelatest book you’ve been reading?

Satan: Of course.

Though he wished Mc would talk to him about what was bothering her, he figured this was probably the better option. They hadn’t met many times, and prying might upset her. So, he simply started telling her the basic plot of the new novel he’d picked up. Eventually, she stopped responding, and the messages stopped being shown as read. Satan smiled at that, texted her good night, and snuggled down into bed himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m sorry!” Mc’s voice brought Satan out of the book of poetry he’d been reading, “Not only did I fall asleep while texting you last night, but then I was late today and I set the meetup time? Ugh, I feel so bad and I’m so sorry!”

“You’re alright,” Satan smiled, not wanting to acknowledge how much anxiety had been eased up by her appearing.

“I woke up late, and I dropped my DDD bad enough that we have to get a new one all together, and then Michael was asking me about native Devildom fabrics and if he should get a new outfit made in one… It’s just been a day so far.”

“Like, I said, it’s all okay. I’m sure you would’ve messaged me if you could.”

“I would’ve. I still feel bad… But thank you for being okay with it,” the look of anxiety to joy that she gave him made every second he’d spent waiting worth it.

“O-Of course,” he got out.

“So, what were you reading?”

“A collection of Arabic love poems.”

“Ah, “... When I love, / I become liquid light,” and “... If the devil was to ever see you, he’d kiss your eyes and repent,” Mc sighed, resting her chin on her hand. Then, as if remembering her current company and current residence, she shot up, “Sorry! I just really love that line.”

Satan laughed, and then said a quote of his own, “My lips and fingers were pens on her flesh. / I memorized her in every alphabet and memorized my memories until they multiplied…”

“I look at you and I dream of snow, I look at you and I await autumn…”

“My temptations in your eyes, And the cities of your grief,” Satan quoted just then realizing they were both leaning in towards each other. He leaned back a bit abruptly and cleared his throat, “Anyway, I really enjoy Adonis’ work.”

“Me too,” Mc answered, leaning back as well. Fortunately, a waiter came up to them to take their order, helping resolve the awkward air his sudden retreat had created. He tried to collect his thoughts as she ordered. He could only think of one thing to talk about though.

“So… Your name is not Jane Doe.”

“Nope.”

“So... What is it?” Didn’t they have this conversation last night?

Mc looked disappointed for a second, but then she was back to normal, “It’s Mc.”

“Really? That’s a lovely name.”

She looked up, eyes measuring him, “You think so?”

“Of course! It suits you really well,” Satan said.

“Well, there’s actually an interesting story behind that. Usually when an angel becomes an angel, they receive a new name. Back in the past, they used to allow them the choice between their new name and their old one. This resulted in too many angels remembering their human life, so they stopped allowing it. I’m the first angel in quite some time to keep the same name as I had in life.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Apparently Sim and Luke were insistent on it. Luke didn’t have a ton of clout upstairs at the time, but Sim does. I promised I wouldn’t question them too much about my human life.”

“They were huh? That’s interesting…”

“Why?”

“Oh, uhhh… Just general curiosity. I’ve been trying to pin down what kind of person Simeon is since the first exchange program,” Satan scrambled, actually managing to sound convincing.

Mc just hesitated and then nodded, not keeping eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous that I’ll make a fool of myself and ruin this time like I have the other times we’ve talked,” Satan confessed in Latin, his brain still on the last language he had been reading. Saying the things that had been bothering him started when he became more comfortable around Mc the first time around. He found saying the things on his mind out loud usually released much of his nervous energy, helped him understand what and how he was feeling without doing things to make Mc uncomfortable, even if she hadn’t understood most of what he’d said. It had become something they had shared, causing her to work hard to learn other languages so she could catch the little embarrassing things he said.

Mc gave him a look before replying, “Well, you didn’t mess up last time.”

“Well, I-” Satan cut off when his brain caught up to his mouth. She had just responded. In perfect Latin. His brain flipped back to their discussion on Arabic poetry and he realized she had been quoting that in Arabic too, “I hadn’t realized… Of course you speak other languages.”

“I have to read it in its original tongue. Translations generally don’t do the original justice,” Satan was still trying to think of an appropriate response when Mc spoke again, “Question though: Why did you say that in Arabic?”

“I… I fell into that habit awhile ago.”

“I thought a lot of demons knew different languages.”

“Well, I don’t do this around other demons. I don’t care what most of them think of me…” Satan cut off as the waiter came back with their drinks.

Mc sat in thought for a second before realization dawned on her, “Oh, was it because of…” her face fell before she could continue her thought.

“Hmmm? Did you say something?”

“No, just a stray thought that slipped out.”

“Hmmm… Well, do you want to tell me more about yourself?”

“Only if you tell me more about yourself.”

“Sounds fair to me. We can trade off asking questions.”

“Okay,” Mc seemed very excited by the prospect, and Satan found it infectious. The questions were a bit stilted at first, but they slowly fell into a comfortable space. Though the answers Mc gave, it seemed she was the same person essentially, but a lot more educated, even more opinionated, and with a different upbringing. He found the fact her personality had remained intact very interesting as well as relieving. He found the fact she was now an angel not as terrible as he thought it’d be. Sure, she spoke about saving souls and bringing people to the light, but with what she’d done for him and his brothers, it seemed a perfect fit. He’d always known she was a really good person. At times it had almost made him try to give up on their relationship, not wanting to corrupt her, but also feeling it in his very nature too. Now however, he didn’t necessarily feel that for her. She was an angel and it took a lot to corrupt an angel. He didn’t feel any animosity towards her and found her to be a lot like Simeon in her regard to demons. He found himself thanking Simeon for keeping her intact. If they couldn’t give her back to me, this is probably the next best thing.

They were both surprised when Mc’s DDD rang, a call from Luke asking if she’d be back in time for dinner. While she was on the phone, Satan received a similar call from an annoyed Beel telling him it was time to come home. Lucifer wouldn’t let him eat until he’d gotten home. They both got off the phone at the same time.

“I… actually have to go. I hadn’t realized how late it’s gotten.”

“I didn’t either. I have to go as well. There’s a hungry Avatar of Gluttony at home and a stupid Avatar of Pride that won’t let him eat until I get back.”

“Well, I really had a good time tonight. We should do this again sometime.”

“I agree,” Satan smiled, “Today was amazing.”

Mc smiled and blushed a bit, “I’ll text you later then?”

“Definitely. Bye!”

Mc waved cutely and then started running off in the direction of the castle. Satan watched her until she was out of sight, smiling softly the whole time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, yeah. Arabic love poems make me live. I apologize if the translations are weird. I literally found them on a twitter post someone had posted on Tumblr. Here’s the link: https://twitter.com/rosewatwr/status/1292487129793208320?lang=en

Can we also take a moment to talk about how absurd it is that Satan, of all people, was having trouble eating properly with a knife and fork?! Are you kidding me?

Part Sixteen

[moirasimagines]

standing by | david budd x reader

summary: it’s the night of october 1st, and the reader is expecting a visit from david after an outing with his kids to see their grandmother. feeling nervous, they phone vicky and receive some less than reassuring news.

warnings: canon-typical mentions of su*cide bombing/terrorism and ptsd, lil angsty? but tender i promise, vicky and the reader each have one (1) drink, general concern is to be had about david’s mental state

word count: 2787

a/n: i kinda wanna make this a series? where david and the reader just? are dating so instead of sleeping w/ julia he just... becomes her friend and everything else just... happens the same way ig??? lemme know if anyone’s actually interested in this bc i might write it anyway but it’d be good to know if there’s any actual like... market for it bgjkrtbgkr

David is late. You aren’t angry–– it just seems odd. He’s a very punctual person, normally, and you couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t just text you if something had come up with the kids. He hasn’t answered any of the texts you’ve sent him, and both times you called, his phone went to voicemail. You think about phoning Vicky, then decide against it. You like to think that the two of you are friends. She’s kind to you whenever you see her, anyway, and David has mentioned once or twice that she’s asked about you, remembered that your aunt had been sick and sent well wishes or mentioned a book you’d told her about. You like her. She’s a good mother to her kids, and she treats David with the love and respect he deserves. You’ve never met a pair of exes with such a healthy relationship, and though you know it’s a two way street between herself and David, you’re still impressed with her grace. It’s these feelings that drive you to give her a ring when an hour’s gone by since Dave said he’d be over and you haven’t heard anything.

“Hello?” 

“Hi Vicky, it’s Y/N. I was wondering if Dave––”

“Oh love,” she says, and you notice that her voice wavers as she speaks. Your heart drops. “Everyone’s alright, the kids and him, but…” She sighs. “There was a suicide bomber on their train home.”

“Oh christ,” you murmur, your heart rate picking up.  “But they're okay? The kids? And Dave? Nothing happened, no one got hurt?”

“They’re all fine, yeah. They’re taking a cab home now. Dave said to expect them in at about  half past 10. He…” she takes a deep breath on the other end of the line. “He talked the woman out of it. Nearly got himself killed, but…” For a moment, neither of you says anything. You glance at the clock. It’s 9:45. You have to make a conscious effort to even out your breathing, but you manage it.

“He saved their lives,” you say.

“Yeah,” Vicky manages, but you can tell she’s crying.

“Is there anything I can do for you, hun?” you ask, “Do you want some company?” She sniffles.

“That actually… That would be nice, if you’re offering. And that way you won’t have to wait to see him, or the kids.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, of course. I’ll start over right now. Should be able to get there in twenty. Thank you, Vicky.”

“Yeah, all right. No, it’s…” She pauses. “I mean, thank you, hun.” 

“See you soon.”

You smile as you hang up, but your stomach is still churning. He’s fine, the kids are fine. Everything is fine. Vicky obviously spoke to him, and they’re all on their way home now. But the thought of something happening is too much to bear, and you notice after a moment that your heart is practically pounding. You don’t want to keep Vicky waiting, though, so you toss your phone and keys into your bag and drive over.

She meets you at the door, and to your surprise, throws her arms around you. Relieved, you return the embrace, giving her a reassuring squeeze. 

“Thank you for coming all this way,” she murmurs against your shoulder.

“Thank you for letting me come by.” Vicky takes a deep breath and pats your back. You both pull away and she nods for you to follow her inside.

“Drink?” she asks, padding into the kitchen. She sounds tired. You trail behind her, realizing slowly that you’ve never really been alone together. Normally you feel a bit like you’re visiting your in-laws or something when David brings you round to Vicky’s. But the house feels smaller now, somehow, more intimate.

“I won’t say no to that.” She offers you a weary but genuine smile and takes a wine glass from the cupboard.

“I’ve got my own in the sitting room, so don’t worry. I’m not trying to liquor you up. White okay?” You let out a laugh at the joke and she shoots you a wry smile.

“Yeah, perfect, thank you.” You both go to sit and wait for David and the kids, finding yourselves on opposite ends of the couch. She sits so that she’s facing you a little, shoulder resting against the cushions.

“So, how’s things with you and Dave?” Vicky asks after a moment. You feel a guilty pang, but it’s clear that she’s really just curious. There’s no malice in her words–– of course, there never is. If anything, you imagine she just wants to fill the time.

“They’re good,” you say, hesitantly. “Thanks. It’s, ah… You know, obviously I love the kids, and––”

“Oh, they adore you,” she replies, smiling despite the anxiety on her brow. Your expression softens.

“Really?”

“Yeah, ‘course. They’re always asking about you.”

“Oh. That’s really sweet,” you say, genuinely a bit surprised. You love Charlie and Ella fiercely, but you’d always assumed they must have felt a bit strange about you. After all, you and David have been together for the better part of a year now. They know you’re dating their dad. You’d always thought it would be a little bit difficult for them–– and who could blame them if it was?

“We all love you, you know,” she says earnestly after a moment. “I’m pleased it’s going well with you two, really, I am.” Spindly fingers reach across the space as she covers your hand with her own, giving you an affectionate jostle. Tears glisten in her eyes, and you feel your chest tighten. “I know it’s probably weird, me saying all this, but…” She shakes her head. “I love Dave, he’s the father of my kids. And all I want is for him to be happy. I think you make each other happy.” You nod slowly, taking her words in, feelings tears slip down your own cheeks as you place your free hand on top of hers and squeeze.

“I think the world of you,” you say once she sits back. “I really want you to know that. You’ve been nothing but kind to me since day one, and––” She waves you off.

“Oh god, don’t give me so much credit,” she says, recovering a bit, “You were the one in the really scary position. Meeting the ex-wife? Please, I would have shat myself.” She lets out a shaky laugh, sniffs, wipes her eyes. “And you were so sweet!”

“Are you kidding?” you reply, halfway between tears and laughter, “If I had to meet my ex’s new partner, I probably would have had a cow.” Vicky laughs at that, and the two of you share an admittedly tearful but warm look.

As you’re wiping your eyes again, a car pulls up outside of the house, and both of your heads snap up at the sound.

“Oh thank god,” Vicky says, and you both hurry out the door. Charlie and Ella come bounding up to her, and just like that, you’re welling up again, seeing the kids reunited with their mother. David follows a few paces behind, and the kids step back from their little group hug as she goes to embrace him.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Ella asks, turning to you. Charlie follows suit, and soon you’re knelt on the ground to give them a hug as well. 

“I was worried about all of you,” you say, “so your Mum asked if I’d like to come see you.”

“That was nice of her,” Charlie says.

“Yeah,” you agree, pulling away to scrub at your eyes, “it was, huh?” They both smile at you, and you glance at David, who’s reassuring an understandably distraught Vicky. It had been easier to curb your emotions when the two of you were talking, but now you can’t help yourself. No sooner have you dried your cheeks than fresh tears roll down them and you look at the kids again, admiring their sweet faces. “I’m very glad to see you both,” you say quietly.

“We’re glad to see you too,” Ella replies. Charlie moves to hug you again, seeing that you’re still crying, and Ella joins him. You squeeze them both as David and Vicky walk over.

“Come on you two,” she says, voice a little calmer, but still tinged with emotion, “it’s past your bedtime.” You let them both go and Vicky offers you a smile, which you return gratefully. They scamper off after her into the house, and you can’t possibly stand up quickly enough. David’s arms are around you in an instant and when you exhale, it feels like you’re deflating into him.

“What are you doing here, love?” he asks gently, a hand coming up to cradle your head.

“I thought you were going to come over tonight,” you murmur, “and when I didn’t hear from you, I got worried, and I called Vicky and she told me about the train, and...” You feel David tense up for a moment, and then sigh.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry, love. I completely forgot.”

“No, it’s all right, Dave, really––”

“No, but you must have felt awful talking to Vic–– and I didn’t even call you.”

“Well, you had quite a lot going on from what I understand,” you say, pulling away to look at him. He looks exhausted, rattled, and upset at himself, no doubt. “I’m not angry,” you insist, “Really, I’m just so relieved you’re all okay.” You lift a hand to his cheek and though he leans into the touch, he looks down, brow creased in frustration. “David,” you say, trying to get him to look at you. “Your kids come first. I know that, I’ve known it since the day we met. It’s one of the many things I love about you.” Finally, he lifts his eyes to yours. They’re bright, you notice, more intense than usual. 

“I would’ve called you first thing in the morning.”

“I know you would have,” you say reassuringly. For a moment, you just look at each other, your thumb brushing across his cheek. “Love, are you all right?” David sniffs, nods. You drop your hand.

“Fine, yeah. I’m…” he takes a deep breath. “I’ll be alright,” he says, but he sounds defeated. You frown slightly, and nod. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you softly, quickly, before pressing another kiss to your forehead. “I’m gonna go help Vic put the kids to bed,” he says, nodding towards the house.

“I’ll drive you home,” you offer. “Yours or mine. Whatever you need.” He nods gratefully and tucks an arm around you. With your arm wound tightly around his waist, his kisses you on the temple and you both head back inside.

You sit back down on the couch and lean your head on your hand as he sheds his jacket and trots upstairs. You don’t even realize that you’re beginning to doze off until the sound of your name rouses you from half-consciousness. David’s face materializes before your own as you blink yourself awake. He smiles softly.

“Hi, you,” he says. You chuckle, and he reaches for your hand to help you up.

Vicky leans against the stairwell and hugs David and you each in turn.

“Don’t be strangers,” she says through a yawn, and the three of you shuffle to the front door. 

“Night, Vic,” David says, stepping outside.

“Night, Dave.” You pause before following him out and take Vicky’s hand.

“Thank you for tonight,” you say. “Really. Get some rest, all right?”

“You too,” she replies softly. “You’re always welcome here, you know.” You nod.

“Thank you. Night, babes.” Vicky smiles.

“G’night.” You turn and step out into the yard, David nodding to Vicky as she shuts the door. He puts his arm around you again and you start down the street towards your car.

“You two seem very cozy,” David says after a moment, almost sounding amused. You chuckle.

“Yeah, I like her. She was really sweet to me tonight.” You slow to a stop as you reach your car and dig in your bag for your keys. “It was nice talking, just me and her, I guess.” David’s smiling when you look up at him.

“Vicky’s good people,” he agrees. “And anyone would have to be out of their mind not to like you.” You can’t help but smile as you shake your head at him and unlock the doors. He climbs into the passenger seat and you go around to the driver’s side.

“Do you want me to take you home, love?” you ask once you’re situated. David looks at you almost sheepishly.

“I’d rather stay at yours, if you’ll have me.” You let out a breath and give him a tired smile.

“Of course I will,” you say, leaning over the console to kiss him. He chases your lips when you pull away, a hand resting on the back of your neck. You kiss him once more and start the car. 

The drive home is comfortably silent, and when you look over, you see that David has closed his eyes, is taking measured breaths. It’s something you’d recommended he do that you’d learned from your own time in therapy, though you’ve yet to convince him to go. It’s better than nothing, though, and while he doesn’t look completely untroubled when you park the car, he seems a bit calmer.

It’s nearly midnight when you finally trudge into your apartment, and David heads straight for your bedroom. You don’t bother to do anything more than take off your makeup in the bathroom before following after him. He’s already in his pyjamas–– he has a decent sized drawer at your place–– and you change unceremoniously into your own. He draws the covers back and climbs into bed and you do the same. You have to lean over him to turn the light out and for a moment, you hover over him in the darkness. You feel protective, like you want to stay poised above him, ready to frighten off any would-be attackers in the night. He shifts beneath you and you drop a kiss to his temple, then another. He exhales slowly.

“What do you need, darling?” you murmur against his skin, “What can I do?” He’s silent for a moment.

“I don’t know,” he admits softly, shaking his head against the pillow. “I dunno.” You nod.

“It’s okay.” You lay down beside him, one arm slung over his waist, face pressed to the back of his neck and your other arm tucked up against yourself. “It’s okay.” For a little while the only sounds in the room are his and your breathing. He reaches for your hand, interlocks his fingers with yours. Minutes go by. You close your eyes but don’t sleep. Then it feels like he’s trembling, and you hear his breath hitch. His grip on your hand tightens. He’s crying. You squeeze his fingers where they curl under your palm, your arm bracing more tightly around his body. The sound is so quiet, only a few gasping breaths every now and again, but you can still hear it rattling out of him. He could have died today. His children could have died today.

You don’t say anything–– there’s nothing to say. All you can do is hold him, and you do. When the shaking subsides a little, you move to cradle his head with your other arm and you stay like that until you’ve both fallen asleep.

In the morning, it’s almost as if nothing happened. David is a little bit quiet while you both eat breakfast, but that’s not terribly unusual. While you sit, he places a hand on your thigh, as if to silently reassure you that he’s fine. With a kiss to your forehead, he gets up to dress for work (there are a few of his suits in your closet), and when you’ve finished your tea you do the same. He has to leave a bit before you do, and you walk with him to the door.

“I’ll call you when I’m done today, all right?” he asks. You nod. “Okay.” His expression changes, becomes softer. “I love you,” he says earnestly, his voice soft. You can’t help but smile, even through your worry.

“I love you too, Dave.” He kisses you gently, a hand on either side of your face, and lingers there longer than he might ordinarily. Your hands find his waist and give a comforting squeeze. He smiles. Part of you wonders if he really is just okay. His expression seems peaceful as he kisses the side of your head again and turns to leave. You can only hope that you’re right.

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Croatia brings no men in a hamster wheel to Rotterdam 2021

Now could this be the teddy bear uprising invasion Muse has warned us about 12 years ago?

And LITERALLY, these review series make me feel like Croatia is openly taunting me - I watch the days go, I’m losing track of time, and when another day comes, I’m screaming “oh no I forgot to publish a review sooner than wanted!!”. Guess I’m for one glad there’s a time related song this year, hum?

ARTIST & ENTRY INFO

Repping the Adriatic coast nation that got all the sea instead of Bosnia & Herzegovina is some 22 year old Albina Grčić, who first popped up on X Factor Adria back when that was a thing, and got lumped into a girlgroup in later stages, but to that she said “hvala ne” and moved on with her life, getting eliminated just like that. Queen <3 She did get her second chance to compete as a soloist and make a more prominent mark on her career when she ended up on The Voice in Croatia. She did well, placing third overall in the season, but somehow, during the duel stage, her coach initially favoured her fellow Dora 2021 contestant Filip Rudan:

Her Voice success landed her a record deal with the Croatian division of Universal Music, she released a debut single, sometime later ended up on Dora, and here she is now, on Eurovision.

“Tick-Tock” is the song, a standard upbeat pop song, and one of the ones that talks about a girl leaving a terrible relationship and being so well over it that she “found [her]self and [she’s] finally free”, and the “tick-tock” here is used to represent the time passing by, not the sound of her heart, unlike a fellow ESC entry of a similar title. The tune (or its lyrics only) is co-authored by some dude you might’ve heard of from France’s 2018 preselection Destination Eurovision, and that is Max Cinnamon - some half-English guy with a half English song about love (”Ailleurs”) that did moderately averagely in the final... I don’t even know if his influence shows, I just love how 2021 has sort of become revenge of the NF flops but they’re writing other entries instead (Suzi P, “Adrenalina”).

REVIEW

I often don’t really fully vibe with female bops in Eurovision as much as I want to, like, for the most part they’re overhyped, and I let the “yass queeeeen” audience gorge on the everything their favourite bops give them. But this year there are plenty of great ones to choose from, as I think that it’s safe to say that most, if not all, are tucked in somewhere inside my top 20, top 25 at the very minimum. Croatia managed to even do the impossible and land into my top 10.

Why?

Well, the answer is that the song is just so damn good.

I mean, what’s NOT to like about it? It’s a catchy and upbeat song that incorporates xylophones (or whatever is it that sounds like them), guitars and synths; has a good bassline in the chorus; and it’s just... a very good composition overall, like, all the instruments in it are just in their right place and uplift the song massively. I also like Albina’s performance on it, both live and studio, it clearly shows that she’s a very good singer (also shown on her cover of the scandalous Oscar award snubbery “Husavik”). Sounds like a song a common pop loving Eurofan could gear themselves towards. Besides, it also has possibly my favourite pre-chorus section of the 2021 year? Oh wait, there’s also Switzerland, scratch that. “Tick-Tock” has one of my favourite pre-chorus sections of 2021. It builds up so well instrumentally and the way Albina sings it is even better. I obviously like to believe Albina heard those voices from far away that helped her to escape, has found herself, and she’s finally free from her “partner’s” bad lovin’ and restraint. Yas queen go be free you didn’t deserve his tomfoolery anyway!  👏 (Also I admire a section that’s not quite the pre-chorus but is still before the 1st chorus, the one that goes “If you pull me down then I'll come around” - literally just a lot of the parts of the song are full of nice vocal performance and I don’t regret ranking this in my top 10 not a second.)

If it has any drawbacks, it’s just that it gets a tad too repetitive after the halfway mark... like, the pre-chorus before the second chorus is the one to be repeated once again, and no new verse, nothing - but it does launch itself into something extraordinary, and that is a chorus in Croatian, which I assume she would perform in Eurovision because there’s no Eurovision version on the song promo bundle, I suppose. Comparatively the Croatian chorus is not as complex in lyrics as the English language one, and flows slightly differently too. But the song still has a long chorus by the end, and song with too many choruses is never a good sign for those that look for a song that’s constructed well, but I guess it’s a good factor for those that value the song’s catchiness. I guess that’s what one of the two Eurovision 2005 hosts valued the most when writing the Ukrainian 2006 entry “Show Me Your Love”, which if you ask me, is straight up 75% chorus, lol.

So yeah my verdict is that almost everything about this song, I like. I’m just a little devastated that in a usually very easily gorged on category of female bops, this just tends to lag behind in love, like a fellow song I really like this year, Israel. Instead people tend to prioritize Cyprus (which I get because they’ve established themselves as a girlbanger nation since Fuego swept Eurovision) and... probably even Azerbaijan? (which I might also get because Eurovision rarely has this thing called an ethnobop anymore, and it has more ethno than “Cleopatra” did, but still unnecessarily underwhelming lol.) Well then, in a year of female bangers, I would just like Croatia to not be swept under the rug come semis I guess. Yeah “Tick-Tock” may not sound like it brings something totally never seen before in a Eurovision environment (foreign language lyrics, themes about a break up, hell even her dancers looked like they were wearing the same hats as Tamta’s dancers), but you got to have a lot in you to sell a worn out idea to the new heights, and Albina does exactly that in my eyes.

Approval factor: Yeah! There is a lot of it in here for me. Follow-up factor: A great follow-up, not so great in regards to panini but musically it’s just going up and up from what we had in the past few years. I’ve actually not minded “The Dream” for the most part but I knew it was a chanceless plodding ballad and Roko harboured heaps of wasted potential working with Jacques Houdek and having wings as part of his performance, uff. *_* And then there’s “Divlji vjetre” which I also like a lot - a much better male ballad winner choice! If the Dora re-up winners keep being decent imo just like this, I have a feeling I will follow it a lot more often than I did just this one time this year. I am just saying that panini-wise, it was a sucky move from HRT for not allowing their last year’s winner promote his new song with Tijana (from Serbia 2017) on the Dora night, so we sadly only heard a pre-recorded opening version of “Divlji vjetre” to start off with :( Otherwise I think it’s not Dora’s fault in itself that Damir himself chose not to even submit an entry this year because he hadn’t found a good one - much like with Diodato for Sanremo (he was NOT rejected, if you think he still was, shush). But aside that, musically, it just keeps going up for me. Well done Croatia, for you’ve used to be a Eurovision country I don’t necessarily care about, that you brought two pretty damn good entries in a row. Qualification factor: I can absolutely trust in Albina bringing in a little bit of her charisma and well-likedness, and on top of that, a great vocal performance, in Rotterdam. Don’t ask me why, I just do. She doesn’t really perform her song live on pre-parties as much as I’d like to hope she would, but you heard girlie on the national selection, she didn’t win for nothing. Yeah yeah there might as well be female uptempo songs hungrier for the last spot, but I’d like to think Albina is one of the ones ready to devour than to be devoured. Go girl! Take us all dancing!

NF CORNER

To be honest with you, “Tick-Tock” winning Dora caught me by surprise. Ever since its re-up, the last two editions were kind of won by male ballads, and maaaaybe the dancey females were doing moderately well enough for themselves, but not overall? But look, juries were very keen on Albina, probably because she can SANG and she creates one hell of a fancy presence on her performance. And somehow she ended up snatching a win out of the hands of 5G conspiracy theorist 2016 representative Nina Kraljić, who was at first too drunk to care, but too unexpectedly sober to yell all over the soc. media how she was robbed and how the contest was rigged against her with her being on first and all that. Which is a shame that she is one of THOSE people, because her NF entry “Rijeka” is kinda nice? We did have the Balkan-esque ballads coming from Croatia in recent memory, but we haven’t had a truly proudly folksy one at that from Croatia for a long while, if not ever. Nina could’ve very well brought that to Rotterdam (and another mismatched wardrobe choice oops). But instead she was the one screaming “oh no, oh no, oh no”.

Actually I regarded Nina as one of my faves pre-show, and Albina was on her way, though she didn’t really cement the personal fav status until after all performances, thus making Nina and Albina switch spots for me. But truly, the one song that was my top favourite, iiiiiiiiiiis

GIMME AN OCEAN! OF LOVE!

2021 made me realize that damn, maybe anything that’s funky is my favourite music genre afterall. Up until then I vibed with entries like “Tonight Again” and “What’s the Pressure?” that had this sort of energetic flair and very rhythmic kinda sound to it, but 2021 just simply cemented it to me that my music world has probably been about nice and smooth and funky all along. I owe so much gratitude to ToMa first and foremost along the lines of more to have come in this year’s lineups - I just can’t not want to dance to “Ocean of Love”, and ToMa is quite alright at selling it live as well. There are small gripes with some instrument usages but that doesn’t detract from the fact that I love love LOVE funky guitar tunes.

Aside from that, I can give shout outs to Beta Sudar, whose song not only was underrated, but also had an underrated meme format throughout its performance:

My other props go to Bernarda, who not only competed in a national selection singing a song about seeing “Colors” while blind (and ironically there was a song called “Blind” in that same NF sung by a well-seeing guy!!), but also for finally putting this every country’s reject to rest. Seriously. That particular song was passed on to everyone in need of a competitive Eurovision bop, from Poli Genova to Helena Paparizou as of recently. Oh well, at least the song died a honourable death - well performed slice of good typical Eurovision pop (maybe even overperformed a little towards the end), that got a good rank with the regional juries, but somewhat murdered in televote, fellow Boris Milanov composition “Chameleon” style.

This one Mia Negovetić chick was promising too! Her song was written by the Debs and you might be tired of them trying to continue infiltrating Eurovision at this point, but a lot of their Eurovision songs are usually something I enjoy, “She’s Like a Dream” is no exception. Nothing but 3 minutes of pastel-dressed Croatian Ariana Grande doing what she does best <3

Oh and also some dudes tried to play chess on stage too I guess. But their song is not worth looking into, because one of the acts on it is apparently also a conspiracist, and maybe because oft this their entry is aptly titled “Sing, for the freedom has arrived!” lol I wonder what exactly is the kind of freedom you’re thinking of my guy

Was this the “better mood game” Laura was warning everyone about? Beats me

NF CORNER (NON-COMPETITIVE)

• It’s still hilarious to me as to how one of the acts this year, Brigita Vuco, was planning to bring in backing dancers, only for them to show a fake COVID test or something and outright BARRED from coming with her on stage. <3 Whatever she intended to do with them dancers, I have absolutely no idea, but at least she committed to her song being about drunken nights visually by having all these blurry shots

• Nina Kraljić’s greenroom shenanigans, from the “1-2-3, 1-2-3, drink” to numb the sadness over some results (and the 8 she got from the region Rijeka for the song “Rijeka” lmao), to whatever she saw on the phone that made her smile or go neutral

• Greenroom reactions in general. I swear, this year had cameramen in every single corner everywhere just to make sure something covers up for a human audience instead of severals of Zoom screens permitted to act as an audience. Random people in greenrooms were doing some sort of emotions after random acts, and also randomly they ended up pointing a camera towards an act that lost, but the act didn’t treat losing as if it were such a big deal <3

• All the other memes the Croatian Twitter might’ve noticed me for:

seriously Bernarda was locked in a bluelight mathematical dice contraption. how fucking cool is that

ANY LAST WORDS?

I just fucking hope that Albina shatters any doubts that people have had about her song come rehearsals, and somehow Croatia AND Israel slip through, because never too many female bangers I appreciate in the final, if they all are the bangers I appreciate, lol.

[hold-me-sickfics]

Alright y’all, I’m proud to introduce you to some of my new OCs! There are more coming, but these are the first😊💖💜 I want to thank @thatoneemokpop-02 and @bt20-whump for proofreading and inspiration. You two are awesome 💜💖💙 so... here goes 😊

TW: food, strip club mention, alcohol, emeto, tiny heartbreak, lots of fluffy cuteness (I think that’s all but if you see any I missed please let me know and I will fix them!)

“Parker, what is the point of coming to the library if you are not going to study?” Cody only looked up from his laptop for a moment before refocusing on his screen.

“I’m trying to help my poor, clueless friend find a date to the smart people formal.” Parker was spinning his fidget spinner at speeds unheard of by mankind.

Cody rolled his eyes, stealing just one more glance to his left.

Parker noticed.

“Dude, why will you not just go talk to her?” Parker could definitely have been heard from across the room.

“Talk to who? I wasn’t looking at anyone.” Cody blushed, his cheeks involuntarily rising in a smile to meet the rims of his glasses.

“Sure. So you were totally not just checking Brooklyn out. Of course not, so you won’t mind if I just go on over there and-”

“Wait! Wait.”

Parker smirked.

“Maybe I was. It’s not important.”

“Are you kidding? Look when you meet the chick that makes you… well… I won’t say it for your sake but if Maverick was here I would. Anyways, that means you gotta shoot your shot. It’s like basketball.”

“Parker I hate sports. We’ve been over this.”

“All because one frisbee hit your glasses yeah yeah…” Parker looked over at Brooklyn. She looked like Cody’s type. He had to get Cody to at least attempt it.

“What if you ask for her snap?”

“I’m not doing that.” Cody shut his laptop. “And another thing. It looks sleazy to just walk up to a girl and ask for her snap okay? You really should try a new method.”

Parker had his idea.

“Oh… you know what? You’re right. What should I do instead?”

“I don’t know, maybe… talk to her? Like at least get on some sort of “friend” level before you ask. It just looks better.”

“Uh huh…” Parker was getting ready to help Cody in a slightly less than orthodox way. “So to talk to her, you’d need a reason right?”

Cody looked over at her, hoping she wouldn’t catch him.

“Yeah… some sort of reason I guess.”

“Okay, don’t kill me.”

Parker got up, and started to walk over to Brooklyn’s table. She was there alone, seemingly very involved in her studies.

“Pardon me ma’am. My name’s Parker, and I was wondering if you like pineapple on pizza?”

Brooklyn blushed.

“I don’t exactly think it’s my thing… although pepperoni is pretty good.” She smiled.

“Awesome. So now that I’ve been established as the crazy person you have in common, Cody?” Parker called back to his previous seat. Cody had his face hidden in a book. He peeked out, throwing the book aside and doing his best to act “chill” as Parker had called it.

“Hi Brooklyn, I apologize for this… i don’t really know what to call him actually. I’m Cody. The-” he partially glared at Parker “more sane one.”

“It’s nice to meet you Cody, and Parker.” She bit her lip, and Cody felt his entire body go stiff. Parker could tell he had to save the day once again.

“So, you’re a hot girl. Have a date to the smart people dinner thing yet?”

“You mean the Academic Formal?”

“Yeah, love the bigger words. They really suit ya.”

“Let me just- one second.” Cody practically pulled Parker over to the side.

“You’re an idiot.”

“But I’m good at it, thank you.” Parker winked, and then went back to Brooklyn.

“Here’s the thing, my main man Cody here doesn’t have a date yet, and I thought you two would make a really cute couple so here’s his snap.”

Cody felt dizzy. Had Parker really just done that? This was the last time he was ever disclosing feelings to him. Actually, come to think of it, this is not the first time he’s said that.

Parker laid on his classic *Dean Winchester* smile, and then came back over to Cody.

“I’m literally planning your demise as we speak.”

------ time skip to 5:00 pm, in Parker’s dorm room------

“Ah I did good today. I found love for the little guy. I’m proud of myself and that means-”

“Do not touch the ice cream Parker I swear I will hurt you.”

Parker jumped.

“Maverick you aren’t supposed to be home yet!”

“And you aren’t supposed to touch my ice cream. So, even.” Maverick took the container away from Parker.

“Now, you wanna explain to me why Cody is trying to recruit me to kill you?”

“Not really.”

“Should I have him explain it?”

“Probably not… how about you just eat your ice cream hm? That would end well for all of us.”

Maverick rolled his eyes. He knew Parker must have really done something bad this time.

*buzz* *buzz*

Parker’s phone went off.

5:23 pm Cody: “ Why did you have to butt in?”

5:24 pm Parker: “ Because you couldn’t do it yourself.”

5:26 pm Cody: “Yeah and if you hadn’t done it, I could still be admiring her from afar and just getting silently and unrightfully irritated when she found another date.”

5:34 pm Parker: “Andddddd where’s the fun in that?”

5:37 pm Cody: “THE FACT THAT IT IS SAFE YOU NIMROD!”

5:43 pm Parker: “It’s still funny that you won’t cuss.”

5:45 pm Cody: “She just snapped me! What do I do? Parker I am scared.” “Parker?” “Parker!”

6:00 pm Parker: “Sorry, Maverick let me have ice cream and I forgot to text back.”

6:02 pm Cody: “ *facepalm* you are no help.”

6:15 pm Parker: “Well, what did it say?”

6:17 pm Cody: “I’m scared to look.”

6:18 pm Parker: “Dude, I’ll tell you what it says. Ready?” “ Hi”

6:20 pm Cody: “SHE WROTE BACK “HI” WHAT DO I SAY???????”

6:21 pm Parker: “You’re sure they invited you to the smart people thing right? Like it wasn’t a mix up?”

6:22 pm Cody: “Parker yes they invited me. I’m so dang smart that I have no idea how to… “my people skills are rusty.””

6:24 pm Parker: “Dude if you don’t stop with the references I am going to send you to a psych ward.”

6:25 pm Cody: “Noted. Okay, I am going to respond.”

6:30 pm Parker: “Good now text me when you have an actual conversation rolling aight?”

Parker put his phone in his pocket and went back to his ice cream cone. At 7:00, he got another text.

7:00 pm Cody: “She… um… she told me she’s going with someone else.”

Now Parker felt bad. The poor kid got rejected, and unlike himself, who bounces back and just moves on, he knew Cody had a tendency to get attached. Ah well, no use crying over spilled milk.

7:01 pm Parker: “Who?”

7:03 pm Cody: “It doesn’t matter. I’m glad she found someone she wants to go with. Well, I’m gonna go on to sleep so I can study some more tomorrow. Night Park.”

7:04 pm Parker: “Sorry dude. Night Cody.”

Now he felt really really bad. He thought for a bit, and then, an idea hit him.

7:23 pm Parker: “I am on my way. Do not do anything stupid like buying more books. You cannot keep any more in your room. There is officially no more space.”

Parker was going to do the one thing he knew cured heartbreak. They were both 21…

When Parker got there, he found Cody halfway through a bag of popcorn watching a romcom.

“Dude… I get that you’re sad but this is just straight tragic.”

Cody sniffled, holding the blanket up to his nose.

“Shush this is all I have now.”

“Nope, not gonna happen. Come on.” Parker picked Cody up and placed him on his feet.

“Why can you not let me cry in peace?”

“Because it’s not how I roll. Now, we’re getting you dressed, and then we’re going to a strip club.”

“But.. but I don’t-”

“Trust me, you’ll get the hang of it.”

Parker had considered inviting Maverick, but he was kinda the rule-stickler type. His grandparents had raised him to be pretty straight-laced.

---- time skip to driving to the club-----

“I really think this is a bad idea.” Cody looked down at his navy button-up and his black pants and dress shoes.

“You’ll be fine. Look, I’ve done this hundreds of times.”

“Hundreds??”

“Eh, okay maybe tens, but same thing.”

They pulled into the parking lot, and the one thing that went through Cody’s mind is that this was not going to end well.

----- time skip to 3:28 am-----

“Wowwww she was-s right in ma face! Did you see?”

“Yes I saw.” Cody pulled his friend up from the floor of the club.

“Ohh no! Iss time to go ba-back now?”

“It is. Maverick is probably worried about you.”

“Pshhhhhhhh nahhhhh… m’ fin”

“You’re fine?”

“Yeash I’m fineeeeee”

“And here I was thinking I was a lightweight. Alright, out we go.”

“BYE BRITTNEEEEEEEEEE!” Parker’s head lolled to the side as he let Cody handle most of his body weight.

They stumbled to the car, somehow making it in a decent amount of time. Cody opened the passenger side door, and helped Parker slide in.

“Thank you *burp* you’re my bestesetest of frans. I luv you mann.”

Even Cody had to laugh.

“I love you too. Now, in the car. We’re putting your seatbelt on.”

“NO! NO I WON’T BE TAKEN AGAIN! I CAN’T GO BACK *hiccup*”

“Tell it to the judge bub.”

Parker heard the seatbelt click into place and immediately started bawling.

“I *hiccup* am s-so sorry-yee. I did not mean to *hiccup* tell the *hiccup* panda to go *hiccup* f-”

“Okay that’s enough bud. Sleep. We’re headed home.”

“I c-can’t f-feel my eyeballs *hiccup*”

“You aren’t supposed to feel them. They’re just there.”

“BUT HOW DO I KNOW THEY ARE NOT STOLEN????”

Cody took a deep breath and looked down at the clock in the dashboard. They’d be home in ten minutes, maybe less if Parker didn’t stop blubbering. He’d already called Maverick, who had assured Cody he would take care of their drunk friend, but Cody had decided maybe it would be nice to take care of Parker instead of being on his own tonight. Despite everything that happened that night, he still wanted some company.

“Oh jolly good young fellow wherefore art the d- oh! Look at the grass! It’s so green!”

“It’s brown bub. It’s winter.” Cody smiled, pulling into the parking place that he’d been assigned.

Cody smiled, pulling into the parking place that he’d been assigned.

“Welp… I’m bout to turn it *hiccup* green…”

Cody looked over to see Parker’s cheeks puffed out and his chest rolling forward in a heave.

“Hang on! Hang on-” He jumped out of the car and opened the door on Parker’s side. It was just in time. Pure alcohol mixed with some sort of greenish jello shot coated the ground. It splattered onto Cody’s pants, but he didn’t care.

“There ya go. You’re doing great.” He awkwardly rubbed Parker’s back as the boy gagged again, turning to face the grass below once more.

“M’ overdid *gag* it…” Parker started to cry from the exertion.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about that now. Cody’s gotcha.”

Another bout of liquid spattered on the ground, some of it dripping down Parker’s chin. Cody had some napkins put away in the glove compartment, so he reached in and grabbed a couple.

“I *hiccup* unhghh…”

“You done Park?”

“Yeah…”

As if his body were trying to prove that it would not be controlled, he heaved up another round of clear, bubbly liquid.

“M’ done now.”

“Okay, up we go.” Cody wiped Parker’s mouth before slowly helping him up. His friend looked so pitiful, his hair so tousled and sweaty, his skin so pale… he hated to see him feeling so bad, but he had done it to himself.

“Alright, now… we’re going upstairs to my dorm room. If you need to puke, here’s a bag. Tell me to stop walking if we need to.”

Cody knew that was too much information, but it was worth a shot.

By some miracle, they made it to Cody’s room. Cody scanned his entry card, and then helped Parker onto the bed.

He sat next to him, rubbing his arm. Parker was curled up in a tiny half-asleep ball.

*buzz-buzz*

4:35 am Maverick: “Hey, you guys okay? How much did he drink?”

4:37 am Cody: “More than he should have… hey listen um… I was wondering… do you happen to know who’s going to the dinner with Brooklyn? She told me she was going with someone but didn’t say who.”

4:46 am Maverick: “You’re gonna flip out if I tell you.”

As much as that text intrigued him, Parker had partially woken up and had just puked all over himself and the bed.

Cody put his phone on the bedside table and then held Parker up so he wouldn’t choke if he puked again. Which, he did.

“Hnnngh… I feel like s***.”

“I know. You look like crap too.”

“Hhuuurrrrrrrkkk!” A thick, sludgy liquid came up.. It was sort of white and yellow… oh wait. Yeah, Cody would never look at french fries the same after tonight.

“That’s it. Get it up. I’ll fix the bed later.” Cody knew he couldn’t move him yet, so it was just best to get everything out.

After a few more empty, dry retches, Parker was finally done for the moment. Cody made the decision to take him to the bathroom and let him sit next to the toilet while he got some of his extra clothes to put on him.

He heard loud retching, almost obnoxious, from the bathroom. He just took a breath and went on looking for the clothes, knowing that more than likely Parker wouldn’t be done for a while, and probably didn’t register that he was there anyways.

“C-Cody?” A weak whimper filled the silence. Cody was shocked, but immediately grabbed a pair of boxers (which admittedly he felt weird about), pajama pants and a t-shirt, and then went to the bathroom.

He found Cody in a puddle of puke, tears streaming down his face.

“Don feel *hiccup* good…”

Cody felt his heart break.

“It’s okay. I know you don’t feel good. I promise it’ll be over soon.” He had to lie. The poor thing in this confused, overly dazed state couldn’t take the truth that he’d more than likely be puking for the next two days after how much he drank.

Cody got down next to Parker, putting a hand on Parker’s back. His shirt was damp with sweat and vomit. Cody rubbed up and down on his side, watching as Parker curled himself around the toilet.

“You’re gonna be okay Park.”

“S-sorry…” For a moment, Parker almost sounded sober…

“It’s alright, I can clean it up. You’re good.”

“No… the *hiccup* chick…”

Cody had been trying to forget about that.

“It’s not a big deal, really.”

“If I didn’t feel *hiccup* like I was gonna *hiccup* throw my guts up *hiccup* I’d have tried harder…” Parker turned his head back toward the water and puked up a thick stream of alcohol and whatever other fried foods he’d gotten into.

Cody felt bad. He knew Parker had tried, but he felt worse that Parker was sitting here puking and still thinking about that. He was sick. He didn’t need to be worried about that.

“Let’s um… talk about it when you’re sober hm?” Cody smiled sheepishly.

Parker nodded, his mouth opening slightly before gagging again.

“I’m gonna go get the bed ready. Can you stay here for a bit?”

“Mhmmm…” Parker spit a stringy line of saliva into the toilet.

Cody went out, and took the bedspread and pillowcases off. He tried to get as much of the puke off as he could, but hopefully the washing machine could do most of the work. He didn’t have another comforter, so he had to find his best throw blanket and go with that.

He finished making the bed, and then went back to the bathroom.

“Park?”

The boy was asleep on the toilet seat. Cody could feel his heartstrings being pulled one by one. He wet a washcloth and then sat down next to Parker, leaning him back slowly onto his shoulder. Cody then softly wiped his face, noting how sick he looked. Usually Parker was all crazy plans and bold ideas and loud things. It was far different to see him this way. So quiet, weak, and… helpless really.

He continued to clean Parker up, and then got him into fresh clothes. Then he helped him to the bed, and laid him down. This time, he’d put a bucket next to him. Not that it would really make much difference since Parker was probably too drunk to notice it. He pulled the blanket up to Parker’s shoulders, and then went back to the bathroom, cleaning up the rest of the mess.

When he finished, he went back to the couch and fell asleep. He knew he’d need the rest for Parker’s hangover the next morning. Thank goodness today was a Friday so they wouldn’t have school tomorrow.

(Part 2 coming soon!)