#he’s not fucking known for his accuracy but it’s stressed that it’s needed. he takes the shot and it’s drawn out and purposeful

[zeb-z]

I could make a whole essay just about the symbolism of this latest episode, and I just might, but can we talk specifically about the scene where they escape the caves. Where Wrecker asks why Tech gets to blow it up, Tech stresses they need a precise shot, and it’s a drawn out moment of Tech leveling his blaster, narrowing his eyes, and firing the shot.

Just after Tech is showing an iota of emotional vulnerability about his lost brothers, about having to respect Echo and Crosshairs decision to leave and walk a different path, about how moving on means adapting - he stresses the accuracy of a shot, raises his blaster, and fires, because someone has to do it right.

Can we talk about how that shot is filmed exactly how Crosshair’s shots are all filmed. Camera focus, side view to eye view, to view of the target getting hit. Can we talk about that please.

[writingoddess1125]

Poppy Kisses

Buggy x GNReader

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️: Attempted murder, Manipulation, implied sexual tension, implied future Dubcon

Art by Vamos_MK on Twitter. Check them out!

Please support me Ko-Fi

In and out- That was the job. You'd been asked to murder a certain pirate by a client of yours, He was known as a buffoon and a fool- quite literally it seemed. Buggy the Clown, Captian of The Buggy Pirates. Always failing at his task but getting closer to his goals non the less, apparently he had ruffled some feathers non the less.

Which was why you were hired, asked to join his crew and kill him. Being a skilled shooter made it easy for you to join his crew, however killing him was a different story-

In truth was harder then it seemed to nail this guy- You couldn't stab him for obvious reasons, he was too cautious to go near water and you couldn't risk shooting him since it was loud and you'd risk death by his surprisingly loyal crew.

So you had to get close.. which was just as hard as finding a way to Kill Buggy. He didn't trust easy- He was quite plainly pathetic as a pirate but clever in ways you'd never imagined.

It was awful to say but you hard started to like.. hell even love the goofy bastard? He was fun in a scary way and with him trusting you, you got to see this new side to him.

He watched everyone, including you with hawk like accuracy. Anything even slightly off he could catch and any attitude changes he would immediately notice and question- Who knew this clown would be your biggest challenge.

It took nearly a month before he got comforble around you, playing the act of a wannabe fan of his and an additional two months before he had seemingly started to like you- Clearly his ego finally winning out at your fawning of him.

Soon he was letting you sit in his lap, him telling you stories of his adventures and his past as a pkrate. How he would take your input on his shows and what was needed from your perspective, letting his hand drift to your waist as he would whisper jokes in your ear and drawing true laughs from you.

Sure it started out as a mission but- soon it turned into real enjoyment from your end. So a mission that should have taken 3-4 months tops was pushing on 6... but who could blame you! It was just too damn fun there with Buggy!

Sitting in your room you stared down at the tin canister in your hands, it was a potent poison jell. You rubbed it on anything and it'd dry clear which would work since you noticed Buggy used the same glass cup, claiming it was good luck or something... it was a perfect device to poison Buggy but now- you didn't know if you could.. he had been so kind to you, Even getting you a private room which most crewmates didn't have. Even if it was a bit small and as Buggy had said formally used as a makeup room which explained the large mirrors on the wall. You still knew he had given you space cause he cared..

"Fuck.."

You sighed as the small snail rang in your pocket, pulling it out you cringed knowing who it was and you sadly answered. Wincing at the angered voice of your client rushed into your ears yelling at you for taking so long-

"What am I paying you for?" Your client hissed. "I-I know we had some hic-" You got cut off by the raised voice.

"Hiccup!? He's a fucking idiot! Tonight is the last night or else I'm putting a hit on you" they yelled before disconnecting the call.

"tonight..." You mumbled. Rubbing your face as you stashed the snail away, stress bubbling in your chest as you sat there.

This was your job...

Slipping the casaster in your pocket you get up to Visit Buggy's room, Something you often did anyway so you didn't bother knocking.

"Hey Bugs?" You call out, seeing the Captian seated at his vanity finishing his makeup.

"Hell Doll! What brings you in?" He says cheerfully, you shrug and plop down on a chair.

"I wanted to stop by and say Hi before we head to dinner" You lie, but the smile it brought to Buggys lips made your heart flutter. Soon you two began to mindlessly chatter as Buggy finished his makeup, you handing him his hat once finished.

"Shit. I forgot my bandana in the map room. I'm going to grab it real quick, I'll be back" He said with a bright smile before leaving. Your eyes traveling to the glass cup- you knew this was your only chance..

You didn't want to do this, You couldnt do this... Paid killer or not when do you find someone like him? Just some fun clown guy who's weird humor actually makes you laugh!?

Walking to the vanity you sat down, still warm from him and slipped on some gloves. Picking up the glass cup and groaning in frustration at the situation.

Forcing your eyes closed you look at yourself in the mirror, feeling like he could see you or you were seeing yourself for the first time.

Sighing you feel a tears start to slip down your cheeks as you place the coated cup down and took off your gloves. Hiding it away as you looked at yourself again, regret on your face-

"...it's your job- love aside" You reasoned before getting the canister and quickly coating a thin layer of the gel inside. Watching how it dried almost instantly and looking undetectable like it had been only polished.

"Please forgive me... I really do care for you Buggy..." You whisper a prayer before backing away at your placed trap, trying to wipe the tears from your eyes and maks if look like you hadnt been crying.

After a few moments Buggy returned to the room with a cheerful smile on his face.

You couldn't do this, as you watch him pour the wine and get ready to bring it to his lips you got up ready to reach for it when he paused- Looking up at your raised form as you prepared to take the cup from him.

"Ready for dinner?" He chimed, you nodding as you watch him grab the glass from its usual spot. Nodding silently as you followed him to the mess hall, You heart pounding as you sat in your usual seat. Food laid out buffet style over the large table as Buggy took center seat like a king- Your head spinning as you stared at the glass. Watching him make his plate before reaching for the pitcher of wine..

"Change of heart?" He said, making you freeze in your raised spot.

He clicked his tongue as he lowered the glass from his lips, His eyes staring right at you with a knowing smirk on his lips. A chill going down your spine- he had never given you a look like that before.. it was like looking at the waters before a beast rose and took your life. He wiped his lips with a napkin just incase any traces of poison had hit his lips.

"I really expected better from you (Y/N)- even after all this time you would have let the berry win huh? But your feelings really did win in the end" He mused and you felt ice flood your vains.. he knew.. he fucking knew!

Looking around you see the crew all staring at you, a knowing look on their faces as they stared at you and their captian.

"I thought your words of 'I really care for you' and 'Love aside' was just part of the act but look at that!" He rose to his feet as you sat back down slowly, fear now lacing your heart as the realization slammed into your chest.

"One way Mirror, Works wonders both in the bedroom and in shows" He chimed. He was watching you- The whole damn time! He was watching you, from the calls to your client to your hesitation to complete the job. He knew.

Fear slammed hard into you and it felt like you were suffocating as he went to circle you like prey, his footsteps seeming so loud in the mess hall now.

Your feet moved faster then your brain- you ran out of the mess hall as the sound of laughter from the crew followed you. You had to get out of here you had to before he killed you!

"Now then, (Y/N) tell me- when do assassins cry for their targets?"

In a flash you jumped back from your seat like it was on fire and ran.

A yelp escaping your throat as you felt your collar being yanked back and lifted into the air. You struggled like a kitten being pulled up by the scruff from its mother and glanced up to see Buggy's floating hand holding you. Reaching next to you ready to stab his hand another gloved hand appeared right infront of your eyes and squeezed a red ball, coughing as the fight started to leave your body and soon you fell unconscious.

When the darkness faded you felt dizzy- like the world was spinning? Groaning softly at the feeling, before the realization that fabric had been placed in your mouth. This seemed to immediately sober you up as you looked around frantically- you were back in Buggy's bed, wrists tied to the bedpost and gagged, legs tied down with blue sill scarves and all your equipment laid out on the floor next to the bed. Buggy standing over it all examining it, he looked up hearing you move.

"Ah you're awake. Good I was beginning to worry that I made that Muggy Ball too strong"

You shook as you sat on the bed you once would have loved to be in, Watching Buggy as he Lossened his hair from the bandana. His blue locks falling down and framing his face as he stepped closer to the bed.

He said calmly as he rose up, watching you struggle and try to yell through the gag. He chuckled at this and patted your leg playfully.

"I wouldn't struggle. I don't think you can handle being knocked out again"

He said in amusement, removing his shirt and vest with ease revealing his naked chest- Due to years of training and his devil fruit abilties leaving him lean and flawless of marks. Just like how you had imagined.

"Got to say, I'm really impresses. With all the equipment in that little kill kit of yours I'm sure you could have done the job easily- But a painless poison that would let me sleep and die peacefully?.. it's almost too kind... whats it called? Poppy Kisses right?"

Warmth flooded your face and body as you watch him crawl closer to you- Seating himself right on your waist as he smiled down at you brightly, tapping a finger to your chest with a gleam in his eyes. He looked beautiful, terrifying but beautiful.

"Must have been hard, I saw your face.. you looked so hurt using that posion"

"So complicated.. So much trouble you are- So expensive too. Do you know how much I had to pay to your guild in order to make them say you died trying to murder me?"

He smirked as he began undo the buttons of your shirt. Your eyes widening in shock as he spoke and began to undress you.

"You're so lucky I like you~"

He purred, before placing a slow kiss on your cheeks. You felt the red grease paint smear and stain against it, accidently letting a moan slip the gag as his fingers pulled your hair, which he clearly reveled in. Leaving your wanting his lips as he traveled to your jaw, ear and further down.

His fingers working deeper into your hair as he removed the shirt from your body fully- the cold making you shiver at his warmed touch as red kisses blot your neck.

"Now my daring little assassin, I do believe some compensation is in order for all those expenses. Don't you?~"

[rere-the-writer]

I need more poly! Mikaelson head-canons seriously I would do anything

Let's goooo dudes

Warnings: Fluff, NSFW

You tried cooking them dinner once but ended up with a burnt kitchen and Elijah being a mother hen making sure you were alright

Finn giving you massages whenever you are stressed like this man has a sixth sense when you are stressed

Kol and you always falling asleep when cuddling and Elijah or Finn is finding you in odd places

Klaus is the only one allowed to paint you nude and Elijah has been known to join in your sessions with Klaus as Elijah is very good at sketching

Rebekah and you are known for taking long hot baths together, like the boys won't see you both for hours

You and Rebekah had been known to climb into Elijah's or Klaus's bed during winter as you both get cold easily and them are like furnaces

Kol likes taking you out for longs walk just talking as it calms him and for a moment feel like he is human again

"I am a mother fucking Queen and I will stake you Aya."

For a human most of New Orleans fear you not because of who your lovers are but because one vampire told whoever would listen the you stabbed Marcel with a pencil with a fire in your eyes

Finn and you cuddling by a window to listen to the falling rain with you falling asleep and him reading

Klaus has been known to threaten any men that flirted with you if you are working or just walking

You had watched Rebekah nearly kill a cat-caller when you both were out shopping and just having a day out

"I could have stop her Eli but how else are pervs going to learn."

Both Kol and Klaus had been known to bribe with your favorite treats to keep you from rating them out to Elijah

Finn enjoys taking you and Rebekah dress shopping it is your guys bonding time

Elijah loves dancing with you late at night when it is just you two

It isn't uncommon for Elijah or Finn throwing you over their shoulder after dealing with whatever chaos you made

"That chaotic woman belongs to Mikaelsons....we don't mess with her." "You realize how crazy that sounds, Josh?"

Rebekah, Kol and you going on long road trips, you guys turn off your phones as the others won't hear from you in weeks

Klaus climbs into your bed if he has nightmares and you happily cuddle him

Rebekah brags to Hayley that you know Elijah better than her which upsets the hybrid

You and Rebekah just screaming in the bayou when angry or frustrated with the boys, the wolves are used to it

Elijah loves washing your hair as it relaxes him and kinda puts you to sleep which Elijah finds adorable

You falling asleep against one of them makes them soften so much

Peppering them with kisses is a one away ticket to being cuddled and not moving for hours

"Kol I bet I can jump off the roof to the pool." "Bet you can't." "Baby no!" Cue Elijah grabbing you before you even move

"If given the chance, Nikky. I will kill for you." "Not if I kill for you first."

You have been known to try and surprise hug them but you always fail as they hear you heart beat

You scare the witches as Davina told them you didn't hesitate in throwing a knife at Genevieve with scary accuracy

Both Finn and Elijah get nervous watching you juggle knives while Klaus, Kol and Rebekah are in awe

"I was a circus baby." You tell Davina when she asked about your knife throwing skills

You turn your lovers on so hard when they see you being very flexible while doing yoga with Freya

Tightrope walking without a safety net just to watch Elijah freak out standing under you with his arms out ready to catch you if you fall

Klaus now wants to paint you in the most flexible positions which leads to him fucking you against a wall

"I WANT A BABY!" you scream one morning after seeing a cute baby in a bookstore which your lovers are than happy to give a baby

You are the one who propose making them soften and that night was spent with kisses and cuddles

[pokenimagines]

NSFW Ball Guy. Would love some cock warming and breeding if possible. 🥵

Ball Guy, my muse, my love, my will to love. Ball Guy is love. Ball Guy is life. Of course you may have some absolutely cursed content for the man. Warning to all those reading...this might be all too hot. It's the Ball Guy we're talking about. The hottest character next to Shrek. Without further ado, some sin.

Discord (16+) - Request Information 

Warning: This is NSFW so if you’re under the legal age or uncomfortable with content like this, please skip over this one!

Ball Guy: Warm Locker Room

"A-Are you sure this is going to be okay? What if someone walks in?" You whined but he was already slipping his cock into you. Your breath stuttered as his large cock penetrated you, slowly hilting himself all the way. You were bent over a bench in one of the locker rooms during a large game and you were both flustered and aroused at the thought. Before you was a large screen that displayed everything going out in the field.

"You weren't so worried earlier when I was knuckles deep in you." He reminded you of what exactly you two did right outside of the locker rooms. There's a reason he was quick to move you, knowing where all the cameras were and how to avoid them. The only thing he couldn't control was your volume unless he gagged you.

"I...I wasn't hng thinking." You said as he moved a little bit inside of you. You were fully expecting him to start thrusting and fucking you senseless, but he remained still inside of you.

"You were thinking just not in the right place." You looked over your shoulder and the looming head of the mascot head obscured your vision. You sometimes wished he take it off so you could at least kiss him, but at the same time fucking the friendly neighborhood mascot in itself was something that aroused you. You recall as a kid looking up to the ball guy, but never like this.

"Now tell me...what did that player do wrong?" Ball guy suddenly said and you looked confused, staring at the monitor in front of you. He had sent out a fire type against a water type, the worst rookie mistake known to man.

"Bad typing...what does this have to hah!" You groaned in surprise as he moved inside of you, giving you a few languid thrusts that already had you shaking. He then stopped again, looking at the screen.

"You said you wanted to be champion, then you need to know what the right and wrong thing to do during battle is even during the most stressful moments." He said, grinding his cock in you but not thrusting.

"O-okay..." You hissed as he stilled again, wanting him to move already.

"Eyes on the screen, dearie. I have more questions." You managed to look up at the screen, trying to squirm but his hands locked your hips in place.

"Now what mistake did they make?" He asked, his cock twitching inside of you.

"Used an accuracy reducing move against a Pokémon that has aerial ace...he wasted a move." You were rewarded with his hand going to your neck and pushing you down, giving a few shallow thrusts in response.

This game went on until finally the gym leader won. You groaned, hoping he'd fuck you right but instead his cock slipped out of you. You whined, looking back at Ball Guy and was astonished when he was putting his cock back in his pants.

"Your battle is next; if you win I'll reward you. Every mistake you make though is going to be an extra minute you'll be warming my cock." He said, backing away. You couldn't believe your luck as you whined in frustration again. You just had to win the battle and then get fucked by the ball guy...how hard could it be?

[flowercrown-bard]

You must have some review for me (1/ 2)

 pairing: Geraskier

word count: ~2k

read on AO3

part 2

summary: Geralt gives Jaskier three-word reviews and Jaskier is not very happy with them. Until he is.

---

"Fuck off, bard."

"How very dare you!" Jaskier clutched one hand above his heart, pointing the other accusatorily at Geralt. "I asked for a review, not for an impudence. At least the first review I ever got from you was constructive criticism, but you've only gotten worse since then."

Geralt shrugged and hid his shit-eating grin unsuccessfully behind a tankard. "You wanted three words and that's what you got."

Jaskier huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "That's it. I'll never ask you for your opinion again."

They both were very well aware that that was a lie. Still, Geralt said, "Thank fuck for that."

Jaskier narrowed his eyes. Oh, if this was how Geralt was going to be then Jaskier would not hold back either. He would pester Geralt for reviews until Geralt admitted that Jaskier was good. -

Jaskier knew Geralt hated the song. He had complained often enough about the length, subject matter and utter obnoxiousness of it.

So naturally, Jaskier kept adding more and more verses to The Fishmonger’s Daughter. Sometimes it was just too much fun riling Geralt up.

For now, the drunks in the tavern were eating it up, cheering for the song to continue. Jaskier beamed at them and happily obliged. Truly, he was having the time of his life.

Contrary to him, Geralt seemed to very much despise every second of this. He kept glaring at Jaskier, only interrupting his brooding by taking occasional swigs of his ale. He probably contemplated throwing the drink at Jaskier. Or maybe he just thought his performance was better when Geralt himself was drunk. Either way, Geralt’s thoughts were surely full of impertinence.

As provocatively as humanly possible, Jaskier danced past the table Geralt sat at and stared daggers at Jaskier.

In between lines, Jaskier stopped playing and stole a sip of Geralt’s drink.

“How do you like the performance, darling?” He asked, putting his hands back on the lute and playing a little flourish to distract from the fact that he had stopped singing for now.

“Jaskier,” Geralt growled in warning.

“Ah, that’s not a review, I’m afraid.” Jaskier winked at him and began making his way back to the centre of the tavern. “Give me a review and I might consider stopping. Three words or less.”

Geralt glowered. “Stop singing already.”

Jaskier’s grin widened. He continued playing.

-

“It was a forktail, not a dragon.”

Jaskier huffed and put his lute down. He should have known better than to ask Geralt for constructive criticism while he composed what might just be his most important song this year.

“Really, Geralt? That’s what you focus on?”

Geralt shrugged and leaned back on the bed of the inn they were currently staying at. “I don’t know what you want from me. All of your songs are inaccurate.”

“It’s not about accuracy. It’s about making the audience feel things. I need them to weep and to laugh and to fall in love with adventures as if they had experienced them themselves. So, what does the song make you feel?”

“Mainly annoyance.”

“Marvellous,” Jaskier said bitterly and flopped down on the bed, burying his head in his hands. He knew Geralt didn’t mean it, and any other day Jaskier would have laughed and teased him back, but Jaskier was stressed and stuck and he could really use some support right now. “I guess I’ll just try to annoy the judges of the most important bardic competition of the year into giving me points.” He groaned. “This is terrible.”

The mattress dipped when Geralt shifted, scooting a little closer. He radiated awkwardness and if he had been anyone else he might have started fiddling with his fingers in nervousness. As it was, Geralt just stayed quiet for an uncomfortably long moment, before looking at Jaskier from the side and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not terrible.”

Jaskier let out a quiet laugh. “Well, you’re terrible at giving compliments.”

“Wasn’t supposed to be a compliment. I’m just saying your song can’t be worse than Valdo Marx’”

Ever so slowly, Jaskier could feel a smile stretch his lips. Geralt could pretend not to care all he wanted, but remembering a name Jaskier had dropped only a handful of times when he had been talking about music in order to cheer him up, was something that proved his claims of disinterest lies.

“Of course I’m better than Marx,” Jaskier said and bumped his shoulder into Geralt’s. “And just you wait. When the judges declare me the winner, you’re going to regret having called my song only ‘not terrible’.”

Geralt grunted in disagreement, but he didn’t try to hide his almost proud smile.

That alone was better than any review Jaskier was likely to get from Geralt any time soon. He found that that was good enough. For now.

-

After Jaskier finished his last song of the day - this one not so much about any gruesome fight or danger but about the good parts of the Path, like the stars that shone brighter over the open fields than they did above any city - Jaskier didn't even have to ask for his three words.

As soon as he came back to the table Geralt was sitting at and snatched the ale out of Geralt's hand, as had become his habit, Geralt quietly said, "It was good."

The shock of the almost shy admission was enough to make Jaskier choke on the ale.

"Excuse me?” he rasped out between coughs. “Geralt are you alright? Do you feel sick?"

He reached out to put a hand on Geralt’s forehead in mock-concern. Geralt let out a grunt and turned away. If Jaskier hadn't known any better he have almost thought that the tips of Geralt's ears were tinged with a lovely shade of red.

A grin spread over Jaskier's face and he let his hand wander to Geralt’s chin, turning it so he could see his face again.

"I'm just asking," he said in a teasing tone, "because for a second there I thought I had heard a compliment coming from you. Not even one wrapped in an insult!"

"Fuck off," Geralt said in a strangely raspy voice, lacking any heat. "I take it back."

A laugh bubbled up in Jaskier's throat and he put his hand on Geralt's arm for balance as he threw his head back when the laugh finally escaped him. "Ah there you are. Still the same Geralt that I know and love."

He could feel Geralt's muscles clench under his touch, but Geralt didn't pull away.

"You're insufferable."

"I know," Jaskier said with mirth dancing in his eyes. "But you love it."

He took another swig of the ale, mostly so that he wouldn't have to see Geralt's reaction to his words.

As he sat the tankard down, a strange disappointment overcame Jaskier. He had gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? Geralt had finally given him the praise he deserved. And yet Jaskier didn't want to end their little game. He wanted to keep asking Geralt for his opinion and he wanted Geralt to keep teasing him with impertinent replies or give him this soft look as he told him his song was good.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt if Jaskier continued to play this game a little longer. - "You are good," Geralt said without looking at Jaskier. If Jaskier hadn't known any better, he'd have said that Geralt way avoiding his eyes.

"How unoriginal.” He rolled his eyes with a smirk. “You already said that last time."

Not that it mattered. He would gladly listen to Geralt tell him he was good over and over again.

"No I didn't." Geralt's eyes flickered up to Jaskier's for a second before darting away again. "Last time I said it was good. The song."

"Is there a difference?"

Geralt stared into the fire for a long time. His jaw was working as if he couldn't decide whether he should explain himself or not. Eventually he settled on a simple "Yes."

Jaskier raised his eyebrows, waiting for Geralt to elaborate, but no more words left Geralt's mouth. Jaskier kept searching his face with the sinking feeling that he was missing something crucial. -

Geralt didn’t talk. Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered Jaskier too much. Over the time he had spent with Geralt, he had gotten used to his silence and to cheerfully filling it with his own words.

Except today it felt wrong to try and do so. Geralt was different. His silence was different. The way he had refused to look at Jaskier even once since returning from the hunt was different.

Geralt hadn’t told him what exactly had happened – what had gone wrong – but he didn’t need to. Jaskier had spent enough time with him to realise that the scratches on his face were caused by fingernails and not claws. He knew that the bruises blossoming on his skin were caused by stones rather than a monster’s body slamming into him. He knew that no fear caused by a monster could get Geralt into this unresponsive state. Only words of hatred and terror flung at Geralt, claiming that Geralt himself was the monster, could do such a thing.

Jaskier wanted to touch Geralt, to reassure him. To hold him close and tell him that he was better than anything he was told, anything that he thought himself. He wanted to whisper words of kindness into Geralt’s hair until he believed them. But Geralt’s back was turned to him and he was tense, ready to flee if Jaskier so much as took a step in his direction.

Jaskier fingers moved on their own accord. There were not words to this song. Geralt didn’t need words right now. He wouldn’t have believed them.

But as Jaskier’s fingers plucked away on his lute, pouring his understanding, his comfort, his love into it, the tension slowly eased out of Geralt.

Softly, Jaskier began to hum the tune, trying to tell with the melody what Geralt would reject with words. He could do nothing but hope it helped. He doubted it did.

Geralt turned, not with his full body, but just enough that he could watch Jaskier as he played.

When Jaskier eyes met his and found them full of some emotion he couldn’t name – something soft and vulnerable and achingly beautiful – his fingers faltered and his throat grew tight, choking his voice.

Something flickered in Geralt’s eyes and suddenly he looked strangely young and afraid. “Keep playing, please?” His voice was so small.

Jaskier’s heart broke for him. Slowly, as if not to spook a frightened animal, Jaskier came closer to Geralt until their shoulders touched.  

He kept playing and he could almost imagine that the faint rumble in Geralt’s chest was him humming in tune.

He didn’t imagine the way Geralt leaned into him and pressed his head into Jaskier’s shoulder as if being close to Jaskier was the only comfort he could imagine.

-

This song was terrible. It was objectively the worst and if Jaskier had had any audience other than Geralt, he would have been ashamed to even think about playing such a thing.

But like this, with only Roach judging him and Geralt looking at him almost fondly, Jaskier warbled away to his heart’s content.

“Roach, the mighty steed

Does many valiant deeds

So she deserves all the treats

Yes, on that, we can all be agreed!”

A toddler could have come up with better rhymes and the metre Jaskier used could not have been worse.

But he was laughing and enjoying himself as he sang this little ditty. There was something freeing about not having to worry about being good for once, in being allowed to sing as badly as he wanted to just for the fun of it.

Geralt didn’t laugh at him, didn’t even roll his eyes. Instead he had this look in his eyes that Jaskier had seen more and more often lately and that could only be described as fond. One of the rare smiles that only Jaskier ever got to see tugged the corner of his lips up.

Jaskier ended his performance with an overly dramatic flourish and gave an exaggerated bow to Geralt and Roach.

When he righted himself, he knew that his face was flushed; from the exertion of dancing, from the excitement of having carefree fun and from the wave of emotion brought forth by the soft look on Geralt’s face.

“Where’s my review?” Jaskier teased, his heart pounding in his chest.

Geralt rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. “You’re really never going to stop asking, are you?”

“Not until you tell me what I want to hear.” Jaskier cocked his head to the side and grinned. “Don’t be shy, you can admit it. That right there was a masterpiece. A song so great it shall never be surpassed.”

Geralt huffed, but his smile grew wider. He kept his mouth shut, almost as if he wanted to see how much longer Jaskier would go on with this ridiculousness.

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at Geralt playfully. “Come on, just say it. You know you love it.”

He jabbed Geralt in the chest, more to see his reaction than anything else.

Geralt caught his hand and held it right there against his chest. His smile grew impossibly softer.

“I don’t love the song. You want three words or less? Fine.” He brought Jaskier’s hand up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against his knuckles. “I love you.”

[deaththesyd]

To The Brink Of Confession: Chapter 1, "He's not ugly"

I'd like to blame @mytanuki-kun for one of their works inspiring this side project that is now in the way of my Kisame week progress. As frustrating as this is, I'm having fun with this one and I'm excited to write my first true multi-chapter fic, even if it doesn't fit with the rest of my works and their timeline.

Summary: At first, she had shrugged it off as him simply being worn out from all the social interaction, but if that was the case, why was he only avoiding her?

At first, she had let it slide. Being super friendly and interacting with people was draining after all, and being forced to live in close quarters with such a loud group was sure to take its toll on even the most extroverted people. His avoidance lasted the entire rest of his time spent in her world, but she didn’t worry. As usual, a month passed by before she herself was teleported away into the foreign world of Jutsu, violence, and ninja. She even shook off her doubts when instead of her usual escorts, she was picked up by Kakuzu and Hidan, being told that the others were all preoccupied with important missions, ones that she would only be a distraction from. Entertaining as she found the duo and their antics, she couldn’t exactly hide her disappointment from the silver-haired loudmouth she had grown to consider a friend.

“What’s with all the moping, huh?” He said loudly, stood in front of her, face lowered to look her directly in the eyes as she had been watching the ground as she walked. Blocking her path forward, she stopped to look up at him, forcing herself to push down her thoughts and play them off as nothing. Surprising as it may be, Hidan wasn’t entirely self-absorbed and happened to be pretty talented at sensing other's emotions, a skill that he very rarely made use of. Not that it was really all that hard to see that something was up with her. Always easy to read, an open book, she was the worst liar and easily the most sincere person he had met. He seriously couldn’t stand her mood lately, it was worried and upsetting. Mixed with Kakuzu’s ongoing anger at everything and everyone, the irritating emotions were mixing and giving Hidan a headache. There were only two ways he could think of to fix this, either piss off Kakuzu to relieve his built-up stress and risk an explosive and painful response, or play concerned friend and get the woman lagging behind them to return to her normal upbeat self. Contemplating both options, the least painful option seemed the best bet.

“It’s not nothing, I can tell, so don’t bother lying, you’re shit at it anyway,” he cut her off as she tried to reply.

She tried anyway. “Really though,” she said, smiling almost convincingly, “I’m just lost in thought, we’ve been walking all day, can you blame me for tuning out?” Waving him off, she sidestepped him to follow after Kakuzu, who had not stopped for them and was quickly leaving them behind.

Knowing that the likelihood of being separated from Kakuzu was high if they didn’t keep up with the old man, he didn’t hold her back but stayed by her side to press for a proper response. “I said not to fucking lie,” he spoke casually knowing that anything truly harsh would only shut her up further, “you’ve been like this ever since you got here, it’s not just you being tired of walking.”

Sighing, she replied, “Ok, you’re right that I’m not just tired, but it’s nothing, really. I just need to manage it by myself.” No longer lying was a step forward, but she kept her lips tight on whatever it was. She was stubborn, but Hidan was persistent.

“What’s with you being all shy all of a sudden? You’re always so fucking talkative no one but Fishface can get you to be quiet,” he complained, almost missing how she reacted at the mention of the tall swordsmen. He grinned, seemed like he had a hook. “Awe, is this about your little crush on the big guy? Did you ask him out and he chickened out?” He laughed cruelly.

It wasn’t much of a secret that she had feelings for Kisame, she wasn’t very good at hiding how he caught her eye, often spacing out while watching him train, and making any excuse to get his attention. Everyone at some point had noticed the flush to her face around him, or the fond look in her eyes as she looked up at him. To most, it wasn’t anything to focus on. Kakuzu and Sasori couldn’t care less about it, as long as she wasn’t being obnoxious, Itachi seemed to keep a careful watch over her and her interactions with his partner, his reasons were unknown to Hidan who couldn’t care less about the Uchiha. Deidara and Hidan made sure to poke fun and tease her at any opportunity, making sure to keep their taunts from the man of her affections, trying to draw out their entertainment as long as they could. After months of this, she had become accustomed to the mostly friendly jeering from the two and had begun to poke fun at herself as well. It seemed she had resigned herself to watching from afar and keeping her flirting to a level that was easily mistaken for friendly conversation by the oblivious man.

Years of being acquainted with Kisame had only given Hidan a surface-level knowledge of the man, but recently he had noticed just how unconfident truly was of his looks, something he of course zeroed in on immediately. 6 foot whatever and hulking over even Kakuzu, it was hilarious to him that the member of the legendary Swordsmen of the Mist was both self-conscious over his fishy appearance, and his years of training as a ninja had not taught him to notice the obvious signs that a woman was into him. How anyone could be so unaware, yet so skilled was beyond him.

Her face saddened at his words, her brow furrowing, and her eyes cast themselves to the ground again. “I haven’t said anything, but I think he might have caught on,” she said quietly.

Despite her clearly upset confession, he grinned. “Way to go! Fishface finally figured out how to see above water, wondered if his brain was just waterlogged,” he snickered, excited that he could finally openly pick on him over the subject, but she didn’t smile and remind him to be nice like she normally did when he made digs at the sharkman. Clearly not a good sign then.

“I think he’s avoiding me,” she said, looking defeatedly at her shuffling feet. Now that made no sense.

Not long after it was clear to everyone but Kisame that she had an attraction to the tall man, it became more and more obvious that it was reciprocated. As much as she stared at him, he stared at her. Less openly, probably why it had taken everyone a while longer to see it, but it was well known that the two were complete idiots that had no clue the other was just as interested as they were. Part of Hidan had wanted to tell them immediately, embarrass them and make a scene out of it all, but another part of him had held onto their frustrations and fed off of it as a much more drawn-out entertainment source. Deidara was in on it too, saying that as much as he wanted to set off an explosive show by forcing their feelings out into the open, he also wanted there to be a build-up. In the meantime, they got to tease their fishy accomplice as much as they could get away with without pissing him off and alerting the other half of the pining duo. The fact that Kisame was avoiding her after finding out she felt the same was not what anyone had expected. For once in his life, Hidan was pissed at the drama of it. He would not admit that he was actually looking forward to the two becoming a couple.

“Bet he’s just scared that someone thinks his ugly mug is hot and is worried for your sanity,” he laughed. Her hand smacked him halfheartedly.

“He’s not ugly.” She said sternly, “Although with how forward I’ve been, he may have been creeped out,” she smiled, but there was a twinge of pain on her face that Hidan couldn’t help but notice. It pissed him off, his whole religion was about inflicting pain and death for his God, but seeing her genuinely upset gave him a feeling of frustration on her behalf.

“There’s no way he’s creeped out by your creepy staring,” he found himself attempting to reassure her, feeling as though he was betraying his and Deidara’s whole scheme. “He’s clearly just as much a creepy stalker as you are.”

Unsure that she had heard him correctly, she looked up to see Hidan avoiding eye contact, looking off the side of the road, ignoring her reaction purposely. “I don’t see how he’s the stalker,” she laughed humorlessly, “When he’s the one avoiding me.”

“Of course you don’t, you’re just as fucking blind as he is,” he muttered. Her sudden giggle made him look at her in suspicion. “The hell’s so funny?”

She brought a hand to try and stifle her laughter before she spoke, “What’s got you all grumpy now? Upset someones not crushing back on you?” She teased, eyes darting to look at the silent man trudging forward ahead of them, then back at Hidan.

The glare he shot her only made her giggles slightly louder. “What the fuck are you gettin’ at?” He spat, daring her to continue.

Humming whimsically, she spoke, “I just think that maybe you’re projecting some of your own frustrations onto someone else.”

He should have chosen to piss off Kakuzu. She may have been the lesser of two evils at a first glance, but the ability she had to force him into subjects he would rather avoid was something he had forgotten to account for in his earlier decision. Unlike the completely requited yet oblivious relationship between her and Kisame, Hidan’s own feelings were something he tried to ignore whenever possible. It was just a shitty joke she had made, something about how Hidan should leave her alone since he was really just trying to make the old man jealous. Something he should have shaken off with a normal insult towards the old miser, yet he had frozen, caught off guard by the accuracy. That was the one and only time he had ever allowed himself to come out to someone and let them live. It was shameful in the church to have feelings of devotion for anyone but Jashin, yet wanting someone that couldn’t produce more followers was even more so. Adamantly, he refused his feelings towards the man, but since that day she had treated his explicit flirting as nothing more than a show.

Embarrassed as he was, his comeback held no bite, and her teasing and further avoidance of the earlier topic increased. Eventually, it turned into a loud argument that reached Kakuzu’s ears, who ended their annoying discussion by threatening them both. She was easier to scare, but whatever they had been squabbling about had made Hidan more feisty than normal.

“Fuck off you old dick! There’s plenty of politer ways to ask to be included in a conversation,” came the danger prodding taunt from the young man. It was hard to guess why, but the older man’s fuse was shorter than usual, and the woman yelped as a dark arm split off from the man's torso to grab the face of the loudmouthed man right beside her. Flailing wildly and ineffectively he was dragged along the ground, yanked by the harsh grip of the intolerant man. Green eyes surrounded by red sclera flashed at her, warning her she would be next if she didn’t follow quietly. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she did just that.

[st4rlabsforever]

This is the start of a 5+1 fic i thought I’d share. I promise it eventually has a point lmao. It’ll be on ao3 when it’s complete

title: acts of service

words: 1.2k

pairing: sam/bucky

summary: “Can I touch you?” Barnes asks. It’s maybe the most jarring thing Barnes has ever said to him, and that’s saying something considering Barnes has graced him with such hits as let’s take the shield, Sam and we’re breaking Zemo out of prison, Sam but he can already feel the ghost of a hand hovering over his back as if asking for permission.

“To relieve the tension,” Barnes says as if Sam is particularly dense.

i.

The first time it happens, Sam falls asleep almost immediately afterwards.

They’re fresh off the heels of a reconnaissance mission that leaves every joint in Sam’s body feeling all forty years of his big age on this miserable space rock. It probably doesn’t help that his wretched D.C. rental has got to be a hundred degrees in the sweltering summer heat and to top it all off, he’s pretty sure Mercury is in retrograde. He’d only chosen this place because it was cheap and close to the hangar for nights when he didn’t have the energy to fly back to New Orleans. 

“This place is worse than mine,” Barnes says neutrally, messing with the busted AC unit.

“Why are you here again?” Sam grumbles. Barnes had followed him back from the base for some reason or other that he couldn’t be bothered to think about right now.

“Seriously,” Sam says, flopping onto his bed and wincing when it exacerbates the throbbing pain shooting up his back. “Just leave me here to die.” At least he’d had the sense to toe off his boots first, which just leaves him to stew in the miasma of sweat in his uniform.

Barnes lets out a long-suffering sigh, and seriously, why is he still here? Sam isn’t sure he can deal with Barnes’s dry wit on top of everything else he’s got going on in this little corner of hell tonight, which, judging by the way the AC sputters and coughs before giving up completely, he’s pretty sure is going to be A Lot. He feels a weight plop down unceremoniously next to him.

“You need to take your suit off,” Barnes says, and does he really have to sound so grumpy all the time? “You’re going to be more sore in the morning if you don’t.”

He has half a mind to leave it on just to spite Barnes. Sam grumbles something unintelligible into the comforter and hopes Barnes gets the idea. He hears yet another sigh followed by the feeling of a zipper running down the length of his back.

Sam still has no idea what Barnes is doing in his apartment at 2 AM in the dead of summer. They’d technically agreed to go separate ways after dealing with the Flagsmashers – Sam had been perfectly fine with that; hell, he’d been under the impression Barnes had been more than fine with it. Neither of them had brought it up again when all was said and done, though. And now every inch of his body aches and he’s too exhausted to start another argument tonight. He can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Can I touch you?” Barnes asks. It’s maybe the most jarring thing Barnes has ever said to him, and that’s saying something considering Barnes has graced him with such hits as let’s take the shield, Sam and we’re breaking Zemo out of prison, Sam but he can already feel the ghost of a hand hovering over his back as if asking for permission.

“To relieve the tension,” Barnes says as if Sam is particularly dense.

Again, Sam grunts into the mattress. It’s less assent and more begrudging resignation to whatever the hell Barnes means by ‘relieve the tension’. For all Sam knows, Barnes has also decided he’s had enough of this partnership and plans to kill him in his sleep – and okay, he knows Barnes would never actually do that, but again – Mercury. Retrograde. Pisces. He’s more focused on the tension building at the back of his head and the way his lower back feels like it’s been run over by a large truck, all thoughts of which come screeching to a halt when Barnes digs his thumbs into Sam’s shoulder blades.

Sam hisses on reflex because it hurts like a mother, but the second Barnes’s fingers ease up, the relief is so instantaneous that it leaves Sam floating and feeling like he’s just inhaled a Xanax or three. The groan he lets out is honestly obscene.

“W’th hell,” he slurs. Now that the pain has subsided to a manageable level, Barnes’s knuckles gently knead his shoulders, rolling back and forth across his spine.

“Where else?” Barnes asks with a grunt.

It must say something about how quickly Sam is able to recalibrate to a new normal because he mentally shrugs and just twists his neck a few times, ignoring the little sparks of pain that flare up and hoping Barnes gets the message. He expects the white hot pain this time when Barnes’s thumbs settle at the base of his neck. The chill of the vibranium when Barnes gently wraps his fingers down the front of Sam’s throat for better leverage? Decidedly less expected. And he concludes immediately that the goosebumps spreading across his back and down his arms are a Completely Normal biological reaction to the cool metal. He’s absolutely not examining it any further than that, no sir.

And again, the relief is immediate. Barnes’s fingers roam down the backs of Sam’s arms, prodding, kneading, grinding until a jolting sensation runs from his elbows to his palms, which suddenly feel a little less strained. His palms had been shot to hell from all the shield practice lately, but how the hell had Barnes even known that? Sam melts into the mattress. He’s not sure he could move right now even if he wanted to, limbs loose and coaxed into the consistency of jello by Barnes’s stupidly strong fingers.

“Where else?” Barnes asks again, monotone. His motions are strictly utilitarian, clearly seeking to achieve maximum relief with as much economy of movement as possible.

“My head…?”

Sam isn’t actually being serious, and he genuinely expects a sarcastic response, but despite how incredible the last few minutes have been, his migraine is still steadily growing. It shouldn’t surprise him when Barnes’s fingers retreat, only to settle again on his temples. The pain causes his vision to flash. In its wake he feels all the tension leave his head. He’d just been fucking with Barnes, but Barnes had gone and literally scared his migraine away. Honestly, it’s far and away the best massage Sam’s ever had.

“Wh’re’d y’learn t’do that?” he says, because the pain has been replaced with a reprieve so intense that he can barely keep his eyes open at this point.

He can’t see it, but he knows Barnes rolls his eyes. “Go to sleep, Sam,” is all he gets in response. In the absence of any other complaints from Sam, his hands wander over Sam’s scalp, gently seeking out and destroying every problem spot with faultless accuracy.

Sam sighs into the mattress, quickly losing consciousness. Vaguely, he’s aware of Barnes speaking, but the words come out garbled like his ears are underwater.

The next morning, Barnes is gone – probably left the instant Sam fell asleep. Sam wakes up in a puddle of drool and the stench of his uniform nearly causes him to gag, but holy hell. His neck, shoulders, back, his everything feel like they’ve quite literally had the stress and aches and cramps wrung out of them, and the high lasts well through the morning. It’s the best night of sleep Sam’s gotten since the re-Blippening and he refuses to think about the fact that Barnes was responsible for it.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Among Us: Mansion Edition

Aight because I’m feeling stupid--I’m talking absolutely Willy Wonka--in this Chili’s tonight, I think it’s time I inundated you all in random crack ass Among Us Headcanons for the mansion. In no particular order: 

-Y’all see this post? This right here is Leo and MC. Don’t even @ me. He’s such a bastard and she glares at him the whole time while he just fucking dies laughing in their room. When Theo finds out? He howls with laughter too, later high fives Leo

-Dazai, Sebas, and Comte are the MOST sus players on earth. Like these mofos will handle accusations so calmly and dismantle them so quickly nobody fucking knows what they're actually doing??? The others always skip until there’s hard evidence, but because of that they will often survive by the time the tasks are done 

-Every single time Arthur has even the slightest bit of suspicion directed at him for being the imposter, everyone just immediately votes him off. Half the time he isn’t the imposter, and every single time people can hear Theo cackling from wherever he is

-One of the easiest ways to narrow down Theo as the imposter is to see how long Vincent survives HAHAHA (Vincent takes 13 yrs to do tasks)

-Since Vincent struggles with tasks a lot, Theo will often do buddy system (MC will often tag along too--but Theo will just straight up kill her when he’s imposter and tell Vincent she’s busy with another task LMFAO Vincent always scolds him after)

-Isaac hates being imposter. With every. Fiber. Of. His being. HE HATES IT!!! He vents, they see him immediately, they boot him. FML. Also gives himself away because he will usually kill Dazai and Arthur first, and stutters like a maniac trying to defend himself--has no good alibi in a pinch LMAO

-Isaac groans every single time he gets a task in the electrical room. His palms start sweating because he just knows someone is going to sneak in and snap his neck while frantically trying to connect wires. Arthur most often kills him that way just because he finds it hilarious to hear Isaac curse

-Leo, Arthur, and Shakespeare are the ones most known to sabotage while they’re imposters. Leo just loves being a headache of a person, Arthur finds it most efficient to murder in the course of the chaos (after there’s a kind of false sense of security, he picks them off), while Shakes just love watching everyone scatter desperately like mice.

-Shakespeare is 100% that imposter that like stays beside Vincent the whole time while he’s doing tasks, playing buddy system, and then the second the game is about to end just straight up murders him in cold blood out of nowhere

-Comte will almost always enact petty revenge if someone kills MC early in the game--or at all. Catch this mofo finishing his tasks lightening speed and sitting at the security monitors, slamming the emergency button the second he’s deduced who the culprit is. He’s usually the fastest to figure it out; how quickly he responds is another matter lol

-Jeanne gets caught in milliseconds because he won’t even care about the mechanics of the game, and finds sneaking boring/stupid/too much effort (also just bad with technology, it takes him forever to learn the controls). Will at least attempt to kill in isolation, but otherwise doesn’t much care about being stealthy--and so is often caught fast (always kills Comte first much to the man’s dismay)

-Mozart is...surprisingly good at the game? Not quite as skilled as the trio mentioned earlier, but he’s very good at coming up with air-tight alibis and employs a slow, methodical approach. Will have 5 or 6 of them dead before anyone suspects it’s him, kills randomized targets, and will frequent the security room while people are trying to figure out who it is. Will do buddy system with Jeanne, and will usually find the imposter to avenge his good friendo--otherwise just does tasks and chills if he ain’t imposter

-Leo just plays to have fun! He’s good at it but doesn’t really go hard enough to evade suspicion for very long if he’s imposter, mostly kills people he thinks will be most frustrated with being killed/least suspecting. People are usually yelling at him to complete his tasks bc he often zones out when he becomes a ghost LMFAO

-Leo and Comte sometimes do the buddy system, but honestly? They just devolve into murdering each other so fucking fast it’s pointless AHHAHAHAHHAHAH they’re just constantly squinting at each other; they don’t trust the other as far he can throw him (Idk if y’all have seen any of Vanoss’ streams on yt but I just keep seeing that clip of him in MedBay getting scanned and going “nogla you gonna kill me? just fucking kill me you fucking french bastard” when nogla lingers a little next to him and I start wheezing because all I see is literally Leo and Comte)

-Napoleon rarely gets imposter, so he’s usually spearheading the crewmate effort. Gets his tasks done very quickly (if he doesn’t get murdered; though he often has Isaac for buddy system) and camps outside the security room after making a few rounds. Usually figures out who it is fairly quickly--though his accuracy is spotty

-If Napoleon is imposter he tends to have a hard time killing people, so he’ll literally just pretend to do tasks and vibe until the time runs out. It’s the inactivity and aimlessness that tends to give him away

-MC tries to be stealthy, but she usually times her kills poorly or gets walked in on. Sometimes she manages to conceal the body or her boo looks the other way to let her indulge in the fun, but otherwise she gets found as imposter fast

-There are a few legendary rounds where MC manages to fool most of the house into thinking she’s a crewmate because they’re so busy pointing fingers at each other she just skates by easy, but she always feels horrible after for betraying their trust (the men all silently agree it was uproarious)

-Vincent as imposter is fucking hilarious because he’ll just turn himself in???? Like he won’t even try. Everyone will tell him it’s okay if he gets a little stabby--it’s part of the game--but he just has no heart for it. Theo will often switch devices with him to relieve him of the stress. These rounds are always so chaotic because it usually takes the residents a second to deduce the switcheroo

-You know how I said Shakespeare plays buddy and then kills Vincent in cold blood? The hilarious inversion of this is that Dazai will often try to follow Isaac to protect him but Isaac will run away, so they will often be chasing each other all over the map LMFAOOOO Dazai will do this regardless of whether he is imposter or not, so there’s really no way to tell if he’s just messing with Isaac or has a lurking killer intent

-If Theo is imposter? Pandemonium. He will kill people off one by one in isolation and vent so fast nobody can figure out who did what, always paying close attention to the tasks that need doing so he has a solid alibi. Because Vincent tends to believe him and verifies easily, it can take a little longer for people to figure out it’s Theodorus. Arthur and Dazai tend to be the ones that are the first to suspect it’s him

-Sebastian will often be doing his tasks, just chillin. One can usually see him buddy system with Napo and/or MC. He loves to watch the other men be imposter and notes down their go-to tactics and reactions to killing and being killed in the game; especially if it’s uncharacteristic of them. All well and good right? 

-Sebastian as imposter? The funniest shit in the world. He’s similar to Isaac in that he hates it, mutters apologies and grimaces every time he has to kill people (note: he does not include Arthur and Dazai among people, sometimes smiles a little if he takes them out;;;;). Will lie convincingly only because his voice/writing does not waver--his stoicism serves him well. When he has to kill Napoleon, though? Forget it. He apologizes a million times after, but honestly Napo just finds it hilarious--will just be like “well-played, Sebas, as expected of our resourceful butler.” Sebas still. Feels guilty. Like you can literally look at the chat history and see Napo as ghost like “AAHAHAHHA oh he killed my ass, nice” while MC’s like “lolol” and Jeanne like “he got me good too, never saw him coming in nav”

-Person who gets killed the least? Vincent (I mean come on, it’s Vincent.) MC is runner-up. They don’t like killing her, but there are a lot of idiots in the mansion that do it just to get a rise out of her (cough Leonardo/Dazai) or just because she’s an easy target in the moment

-Person who gets killed the most? Usually Arthur, runner-up Isaac (Arthur because everyone seeks to get back at him for his shenanigans irl, Isaac because he tends to get indecisive/nervous)

-Also this happens to Dazai once as imposter (Isaac plans it out of sheer spite) and the entire mansion was wheezing about it for weeks

In-game Colors: 

Comte: yellow/white/black (when he’s feeling emo) + little baby accompaniment or party hat  Napoleon: black or green, cyan when he’s feeling chaotic + sergeant/army hat Leonardo: brown + toilet paper roll Vincent: yellow + green sprout Theo: dark blue or red (feral energy) + cowboy hat or gladiator helmet Isaac: pink + cherry Arthur: dark blue or lime + backwards cap Dazai: purple or yellow + toilet plunger or bird’s nest Jeanne: always purple + “DUM” sticky note Mozart: cyan + surgical mask Shakes: red or orange + flamingo hat Sebas: always black + either the ninja mask or the chef hat

[oldfritz]

I'm genuinely curious and don't want to start something! Just wanted to ask what you make of the 'Old Fritz might've been asexual' take, I don't know much about him and I feel you're one of the best people to ask esp since you lean towards 'he was probably queer in some way' too

Hey there! So, first off, don’t ever worry about me interpreting you asking me a question as starting something. As much as I love making dumb jokes about the guy, I love nothing more than doing this kind of stuff and defending or explaining my points. There’s two degrees I want to get over the next decade: first my JD and then my MA in Prussian history. I live for this stuff! Always have! Second off, I’m very sorry for not getting to this sooner. Things have been incredibly stressful for me for a variety of different reasons which have made answering your question, until now, rather difficult. Putting this under a cut because, holy shit, it got long!

My personal reasoning for why I think he’s bi (which, correct me if I’m wrong, I’m assuming is what you meant instead of ace and could be a different post entirely since some historians have tried to argue that) stems more to do with some of my lingering questions about the nature of his relationships with certain woman, rather than that of his relationships with men. To me and my modern, queer eye, Fritz’s relationships with men like Hans Hermann von Katte, Francisco Algarotti, Michael Gabriel Fredersdorf, and (much to my personal vexation) one Monsieur Voltaire are either outright homosexual/homoerotic in nature or very, very easily lend themselves to that interpretation rather than strictly romantic friendships (which Wikipedia does a fairly good overview of and, if you’re coming to me from AmRev perspective, uses Hamilton and Laurens’ relationship as a familiar example). While I’m avoiding those relationships in this ask, I’d be more than happy to elaborate upon one/all of them in a different one. 

Before I go into the big pauses that Fritz’s relationships with Madame von Wreech and Countess Orzelska give me, I want to deny the use of Fritz’s wife as an example of Fritz’s attraction to woman. While this, admittedly, may sound odd, we have ample evidence of how turned off and repulsed Fritz found Elisabeth Christine. Before he had even met her, Fritz was complaining about how she was ‘not very pretty, speaks but little, and acts like a blockhead’ (Asprey, 87) and, later, admitted to Grumbkow his plan to ‘keep my word,...get married, but afterwards it will be a case of that is that, and goodbye, Madame, and fare thee well’ (Jones, 52). For Christ’s sake, the man pitied her knowing how his treatment would leave her as ‘one more unhappy princess in the world’! Which is little consolation when you remember he also referred to her with such romantic terms as ‘this unpleasant creature,’ ‘the abominable object of my desires,’ ‘the person,’ and claimed to have preferred to marry ‘the biggest whore in Berlin’ (Asprey, 87). And while we (fortunately? unfortunately?) know quite a bit about their sex life, Fritz largely regarded it as just another duty - to quote him, ‘I will only have the duty to fuck’ (Ibid, 87). And while Seckendorf heard - first, presumably from Count von der Schulenburg and, later on, Count Friedrich von Wartensleben, a close and intimate friend of the then-crown prince - that Fritz would ‘fuck and refuck’ Elisabeth Christine and that said act occurred in the afternoon, it still was out of a sense of obligation (Bely, 481-2). When reminded that if he wanted more money for frivolities, he’d need to produce an heir, Fritz bemoaned that he ‘cannot sleep with my wife out of desire, and when I do sleep with her, I do it out of duty rather than inclination’ (Clark, 50). All this in accumulation, as well as the myriad of other quotes and incidents I’ve left out, makes one wonder why his relationship with Elisabeth Christine is sometimes used by historians to prove any sort of heterosexual impulse in the man when she’s the woman with the weakest supports for that argument.

That being said, now we get to the women with a more muddled places in his romantic escapades, if you will. What exactly happened between Orzelska and Fritz during his trip with his father to Dresden in 1728? The main source for everything that occurred during this trip is Wilhelmina, who didn’t attend and without anything about this specific incident coming from Fritz or Friedrich Wilhelm I, make it rather hard to use as concrete, irrefutable proof. Now, if her recollections were contemporaneous - like coming from a diary or journal she kept at the time - that would be one thing. But it comes from her memoirs which, while a delightful read 10/10 recommend, are written decades after this trip took place and, memory being a finicky thing, can’t be taken to the bank. All those disclaimers, here’s the story as told by her:

‘One evening...,the King of Poland [note: Augustus II] insensibly led the King of Prussia to a very richly decorated room...The King of Prussia, delighted with what he saw, stopped to contemplate all its beauties, when [all of] a sudden a tapestry was rolled up, which procured him a very novel sight. It was a lovely female in a state of nudity [note: Countess Orzelska, the Polish king’s daughter], carelessly reclined on a couch. Her beauty excelled that of the finest pictures of Venus and the Graces; her body seemed of ivory, whiter than snow, and better shaped than that of the Venus de Medicis at Florence.

...Scarcely had the King cast his eyes on the fair one, than he turned about with indignation; and seeing my brother behind him, he rudely pushed him out of the room, and left it immediately after in a violent irritation against the trickery they had attempted to practice on him. ...In spite of the King’s vigilance, [Frederick] had had time to contemplate the Venus of the closet, who did not cause him so much horror as she had done to his father. (Wilhelmina’s Memoirs, vol. 1, 107-6)

Wilhelmina then goes on to claim Fritz had fallen ‘passionately in love’ with Orzelska and that the illness Fritz experienced upon returning home was simply being lovesick. Pinning the accuracy of this story is incredibly difficult because, again, we have only one source relayed decades after the fact and from two volumes of memoirs known to have inaccuracies. While I, personally, would love if he had had a tryst with Orzelska (who is such a badass in her own right and deserves more recognition than as a footnote in this guy’s story), there’s no one way to say with more than 30% confidence. I am inclined to believe something along these lines happened because if someone told me a story like this, lord knows I wouldn’t forget it for the rest of my life. And, with Wilhelmina being so close with her brother, it lends a bit more credence but as to the actual emotional or physical response Fritz had to it, well, without my time machine, I can’t and don’t want to say.

With Madame Eleonore-Louise von Wreech, things are a little more concrete. For starters, Fritz actually talked about her! In written correspondence that survived! We even have seven letters between the two of them that survived, which is a bigger win! As Blanning says, they’re ‘ardent but light in tone, ironic, almost flippant, and highly stylized’ (Blanning, 58). Their relationship was known to those close with Fritz at the time that Schulenberg felt compelled to visit and warn the crown prince against devoting himself to women because ‘the slight pleasures gained cause a million displeasures.’  Fritz’s response? To tell the poor guy that he may have ‘the gift of continence, but I assure you that I do not’ (Asprey, 83-4). Firtz even went so far as to send a letter to her mother, waxing poetic about Louise’s ‘beauty, her majestic air, her bearing, and her entire department.’ It’s worth noting that Louise eventually broke off the affair due to being bored by how he ‘loved [her] too much and often annoyed [her] with his clumsy love’ (Ibid, 84). Contemporaries, including Friedrich Wilhelm, believed Fritz had impregnated her with a daughter who her ‘cuckolded husband would refuse to recognize’ (Blanning, 58). Blanning is the only source I’ve seen dispute this due to this news coming from Seckendorf, who didn’t reveal how he came about this information; that Fritz and Madame von Wreech’s correspondence doesn’t indicate a physical relationship; and on the fact that she was not pregnant. I haven’t been able to find the birth dates or any sort of records for Louise’s two daughters to figure out where their conception could’ve been in the timeline and if it matches with the likely dates for the affair, but I also don’t have the resources Cambridge would afford Blanning. Either way, while the physical nature of the affair is in dispute, the emotional aspect certainly was there. Especially when taking into consideration the fact that she’s the woman Fritz was likely referring to in the 16 August 1737 letter to Voltaire where he claimed she had taught him how to love (and also inspired him to write poetry, which we shouldn’t be thankful for). Specifically, all these years later, he stated how ‘this little miracle of nature possessed every possible charm, together with good taste and delicacy. She sought to transfer these qualities to me. I succeeded well in love but poorly in poetry. Since that time I have very often been in love and have always been a poet’ (Fritz’s Oeuvres, vol. 21, 96).

All this to say, there’s a bit too much evidence of some degree of opposite-gender attraction in Fritz to completely write off the possibility that he could’ve been bisexual. While it’s undeniable he held a preference for men and that’s whose company he typically enjoyed, I still do find it interesting the two exceptions (one potential and the other with a fair degree of certainty) to this. And, while I would never want his attraction to men be minimized in favor of that to women, it still remains important to note to get the most comprehensive picture of the man.

[hecksee]

Stained Flowers

Hi this is angsty af but im struggling right now so imma project onto fictional characters

Sorry @lumosinlove I like making Leo suffer

this is my entry for the @hpbrokenhearts ​ contest, i started out writing this when i was struggling, and tbh i still am, but it’s gotten a lot better. 

Much thanks to the wonderful @iswearimnotanaestheticgirl for editing this monstrosity. You wrecked carnage on it, but it helped so much and I love this end result so much. 

Thank you so much to @peggyrose19 and @marauderss-hp for looking this over and giving me suggestions! 

This is probably inaccurate but I don’t know anything about hockey, and this is fanfic so who cares about the accuracy. 

THIS COULD DEFINITELY BE TRIGGERING, PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

TW suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, its got a TINY bit of spice sprinkled in (i would rate this teen probably, mature if i was being extra safe), major character death, stress, homophobia, one sided pining, hanakhai, vomiting, something thats sort of like a suicide note, and a shit load of angst

Read on A03 here

Leo knew he was screwed the moment he saw Finn O'Hara on the screen for the first time. He knew he was gonna fall hard. It didn't matter that they had never met or that Leo’s attraction was purely physical. He knew that he would want everything with Finn.

But then Leo started to fall deeper and deeper over time, time that was spent mostly spent obsessing over Finn. Only a few weeks after Leo saw Finn for the first time, it started.

Everybody knew about hanahaki. When someone felt unrequited love, a seed sprouted in their lungs. Nobody knew how or why the seed appeared but it was inevitable. 

The victim would start coughing up flower petals, and if their feelings grew, the flowers would grow larger until the victim couldn’t breath because their lungs were filled with nothing but blossoms.

There were only three things someone with hanahaki could do. The main solution was to surgically remove the flowers but have all feelings of love vanish. And some said it was impossible to ever love another person.

So Leo knew exactly what was going on when he started coughing up small yellow petals a few weeks after he first saw Finn on screen. 

But, over the next few months he learned to recognize the signs. The tingling in the back of his throat before he started coughing up the silky yellow petals. The itch in his left lung when people mentioned Finn O'Hara. The stabbing pain toward the left of his chest when his teammates threw around homophobic slurs and comments like beads at Marti Gras is nothing new, but now it's accompanied with a burning sensation in his lungs and bloody daffodils.

The daffodils. The fucking daffodils. He decided to look the meaning of the cheery flowers up one day. Unrequited love. After that Leo laughed humorlessly, and decided that hanahaki had a fucked up sense of humor.

Somehow, Leo made it through a full year while coughing up a mixture of blood and petals. He learned how to hide it, how to excuse himself from a situation, and how to choke the petals back down while playing. He made sure that nothing would impact his career, no matter how much longer he had left.

Leo feared that his time was almost up some days. On those days, he wondered Why was he alive? Why did only the left lung sting? Wouldn't it just be better to end it than to live through the constant pain?

He almost made it through a year keeping his hanahaki a secret. 

Well, almost. His mom walked in on him cleaning the daffodils smeared with red off the floor, and he had promptly broken down in tears.

He had ended up telling her everything, how he was gay, how he hated himself for it, how he sometimes thought it would be better to just end it all instead, who he loved and why.

His mom had made him tell his coach, insisting it was for the best. There had been a major fight between the coach and him. Leo was yelling and crying but standing his ground about how he needed to play. How playing was the only thing he was living for, damn it. Leo had ended up winning, so he kept playing. And just like before, he kept the hanahaki a secret from everyone, especially his team.

But then, he found out why only his left lung stung. Logan Tremblay. The latest player that was drafted to the Lions. He was newly minted, fresh from Harvard university. Short, broad, brunet, green eyed rookie Tremz. 

As soon as Logan stepped out onto the ice for the first time Leo felt that telltale sting. But it was on the right side of his chest for the first time. Fuck, I'm not having unrequited love from one person, but from two?! 

His right lung had irises. Royalty, the Fleur-De-Lis, France. Leo didn’t know how those things related to Logan but he could take a guess. Logan was French Canadian born and raised, that had to mean something. 

Leo’s life went on. Now he had double the work of fighting the flowers down. Two names instead of one. Leo could tell there was something between Fish and Logan. The intense stares they gave each other across the rink meant something. The tension between them one day had just disappeared. Leo saw something as Logan's hot temper reared up whenever Harzy got into a fight or got hurt. 

The signs grew. Rainbow tape on their sticks, posting LGBTQ+ supporting messages on the team Instagram; small things you’d need to look out for, or know exactly what they meant to know the significance. 

The real confirmation was when the official Lions Instagram posted the picture of Logan and Finn kissing at a pride parade, smudged bi flags painted on both of their cheeks. 

The caption read “We are aware of the homophobia in the league, however, two of our players aren’t willing to hide their relationship from the public anymore. Both Tremz and Harzy have our full support.” 

The moment he saw it, the feeling of petals started to itch in the back of Leo’s throat, but he gagged them back as he scrolled through the comments. They were filled with the expected bigotry and homophobia with the occasional biphobic comment. Yet scattered in were the kind comments, full of support, rays of sunshine on a raining day.

Leo started typing out a comment of his own, telling the happy couple how happy he was for them. But the lie was rancid in his head. The flowers Leo had been choking back came up in a wave of blood. 

Before Leo got hanahaki, the few dreams he had were filled with a faceless man. One that would kiss him and fuck him, but now, now there were two men. And they had faces. 

Finn O'Hara and Logan Tremblay haunted Leo's dreams in the best way possible, more nights than not. Sweet soft kisses, hands tangled in auburn or brown hair, gently worshiping the hard planes and angles that came from a lifelong dedication to hockey were commonplace in Leo's dreams. 

In stark contrast, some nights were filled with sloppy, urgent kisses, nails scratching on backs, and a pure need for release. But the dreams would always end, and Leo was left with the burning pain of self loathing building up in his throat before the flowers would make themselves known.

During this dream, Leo had been on fire all night, and it was thanks to him that the team had been led to victory. So here he was with his boyfriends, celebrating. 

Leo leaned up to give Finn a soft kiss before turning onto his side and beginning to kiss Logan's neck. Finn had started to ruin Leo and didn't stop until Leo had hit the peak of his pleasure.

However, the aftermath of Leo's pleasure was slowly but surely turning into pain. Suddenly the metallic tang of blood was clogging his throat and the familiar smooth petals were filling his mouth. 

The flowers and blood were dripping out of his mouth, and seeping into the white bed sheets. Even worse was that Finn and Logan seemed unsurprised.  no, they were almost happy. Their gentle murmurings of praise turned into cold raucous laughter. In between the harsh laughter they told him how stupid he was, how he was a nobody, how they would never love him.

As the flowers only got worse, coming up in waves and mingled with the tears that were rolling down his face, Finn and Logan vanished. Then he was falling, falling, falling. 

He woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, lungs gasping for air in between choking sobs; lying in a combination of petals and blood. His face was sticky with tears and warm, wet blood, and a few stray yellow and white-ish purple petals stuck to his skin. The only indicator that Leo's dream wasn't all bad was the stickiness in his underwear. But the worst part was that he was alone, stuck with only fantasies, once again.

The next day, Leo knew that practice would be bad. Even though yesterday his team was idolizing the Lions, they sure as hell wouldn’t be idolizing them right now. Practice was full of his teammates throwing around a myriad of slurs. The locker-room was even worse, where the coach wasn’t there to monitor their comments. 

Leo fidgeted with his bracelet, uncomfortable with the comments that were flying around, with the flowers edging up his throat. He didn’t remember what happened next. 

One minute Leo’s fidgeting with his bracelet, the next he’s yelling. Yelling about how people aren’t judged by their sexuality, how hell, maybe there even was a gay person in the room! To that he was obviously asked if he was the gay one, to which, he responded yes. Leo stormed out of the room to a soundtrack, suppressing the flowers fighting their way up his throat as soundtrack of cruel laughter and biting words rang around the room, just like the ones in his dream. 

The next day he dreaded going to practice. He knows he won’t be welcome on the team anymore, so what’s the point of going?

Leo ended up just texting his old coach that he was resigning. His team broadcasted the fact that he’s gay on their Instagram. Now Leo’s the target of the myriad of hate that Finn and Leo faced. It made him sick to his stomach. Seconds later, he was puking into the toilet. No flowers this time, but still unpleasant. 

He still walked with dragging steps to the rink and practiced, of course. He didn’t want to lose his skills when he attempts to go pro. Trying to ignore the fact that he knows no one will take him now. 

Out of the blue, three days after Leo outed himself, his phone rings shrilly. Marlene McKinnon. The Lions announcer. Why was she calling him?

Marlene asked him to play for the Lions because he had great potential. Leo hesitated. Did she not know that he was gay? He pensively inquired about his sexuality, how would that impact his place on the team? 

To his surprise, Marlene told him it wouldn’t influence anything. Leo was shocked, but in the happy way. Then she asked if he had any health conditions. Just like the thing about his sexuality, Leo hesitated. Eventually he nodded and said yes. 

It’s hanahaki, he told her in a slow voice, but it doesn’t impact my playing.

Fucking lie. 

Marlene was silent for a moment but then put him on hold with some shaky words. 5 minutes later, she agrees to let him play, on the condition that his hanahaki doesn’t get worse, and if it does, he needs to have them removed. Leo agreed, and suddenly, Leo was going professional. 

Sure, Leo was worried about becoming a Lion; his subjects of affection were there and they were in a happy relationship. But over time, and many, many practices filled with words thrown at O’Hara and Tremblay, he had learned to choke back the petals. 

After a few months, the day came where Leo was leaving. With many tears, and a lot of goodbyes, Leo left for Gryffindor. After a couple long flights, and a short taxi ride, Leo stepped out of the car to Hogwarts. 

Inside the rink, he was greeted with the signature smell of a hockey arena, he couldn’t quite describe it, but it was pleasant, and reminded Leo of home. 

In a blink, he was bombarded with maroon and gold, hugs and welcoming words. When he turned his head from the excitement, he saw them. Finn and Logan, standing back with Pascal Dumais, who he was going to move in with. 

After meeting everyone and flipping out while Finn and Logan give him a hug while swallowing down the familiar liquid and petals that up, Leo was informed that he won’t be living with the Dumais’ after all. 

“You’ll be living with Finn and Logan, I hope that’s alright?”

Leo quickly excuses himself to the bathroom to let the mixture of flowers, blood, and bile out. 

But Leo ended up moving in with Fish and Tremz. However over the weeks, he formed a close bond with both Finn and Logan. Of course, he became closer with the rest of the team, Loops especially. Hell, Leo has a feeling that Loops knows what it feels like to love someone who will never love him back. 

But after Sirius and Loops get together, Leo knew that he’s the only one who will never get the privilege of having requited love. 

Leo was glad that he had managed to keep it a secret from the team. Well, there were some people he had to tell. After all, Remus was the team medic. Remus was keeping it a secret from the team and the public. But Remus didn’t know who was triggering Leo’s love. The only people who knew were Leo and his mother. 

Each practice where the two of them do anything lovey dovey, Leo needs to be excused while he chokes back the flowers that are bringing themselves up his throat. But his goalie face hadn't been developed over happy things, so he shoved his feelings back and forced himself to remain calm, pretending to support their relationship; which he did, of course he did, but Leo wished more than anything that he was there with them. Leo wishes he was there in between them, wishes he was the one holding hands with them, and sharing sweet soft kisses with them. 

Hell, more than once in the time when Leo was with the Lions he considered ending it all. The thoughts weren’t new, no, he’d been struggling with them since he had realized he was gay. But now, with the objects of Leo’s affection so close yet so far, he didn’t know if it would be worth living.

But then one day, about three years after the hanahaki had started, Leo woke up with agonizing pain in his chest, like someone was squeezing a palm around his heart. He thought back. The aching had worsened every time he interacted Finn and Logan. Now the flowers were coming up almost every hour of every day. The tingling feeling is now always at the back of his mind. As soon as Leo thought about Finn and Logan he felt flowers coming up. 

The flowers are accompanied with a burning pain instead of a small stab. All of the flowers are full blossoms, a few with stems and leaves. They’d be perfect and prim, beautiful, if they weren’t coated in enough blood to look like a murder scene. 

This was it; this was one of his last days, if not his last. 

With slow robotic steps, Leo stands up, taking some deep breaths. He fished a pen and a notebook from his cabinet, and started to write four letters.

The words to his family tell them how sorry he was at how bad he was at hiding his worsening hanahaki, how much he loves them, and how he wishes he could have said goodbye in person. 

“I’m sorry for causing you pain.”

In the letter towards the team he apologized for hiding his disease and explained how thankful he was to be a part of his dream team. He told them how different the Lions were to his old teams, how they were a family and how they loved each other no matter what, regardless of their differences.

“Thank you for being like a family to me.” 

In the one addressed to Logan and Finn, Leo explained how they were the subjects of his attraction, how much they influenced his life coming out by choice, consequences be damned. Through blood, sweat, tears and flowers, he found himself rattling on and on about how much he loved them, how he fell in love with them, and how much he valued the friendship they had; even if it was just friendship. Leo’s hand lingered as he thought about it. Would this letter cause the two of them to blame themselves? Should he really write it? 

No. He had to. Leo added a note telling them not to. It wasn’t their fault, it was his choice. 

He brushed away the crimson mess. With droplets of blood staining his fingers, Leo starts on the final and most formal letter. 

Leo wrote vaguely in this letter. He told that he did have hanahaki, and how he had dealt with it for years before he joined the Lions. He publicly commends the Lions for being so accepting of him, even though he had hanahaki and he was gay. Finally, he thanked his fans for staying with him through it all. 

Then, with all the letters finished, Leo sealed them in envelopes and wrote to whom they are addressed to. Gingerly, Leo placed them on his nightstand and prepared for his final practice. 

During practice Leo told everyone how much he appreciates them, which wasn’t too unusual, so nobody took much notice. Otherwise, practice was uneventful. Leo blocked some passes as they prepped for their game with Hufflepuff next week. 

Leo was coughing almost nonstop during practice but he chokes back the blood, bile, and flowers. He allowed himself to think that this is the last time he’d have to push it down. The aching pain in his chest doesn’t subside, if anything it only grew worse the longer practice goes on. 

Leo walked into the locker-room, preparing to take a shower and stretch before heading home when the aching in his chest grew. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears and the world around him blurred. He swayed, unsteady on his feet, trying not to cry or scream. His breaths were labored, he was becoming lightheaded and his heart was pounding in his chest. The pain became too much to bear and Leo’s legs failed on him.

The team rushes over with concerned expressions on their faces. On his knees, the flowers, stems, and leaves start to come up, splattering all over the cold ground, no matter what Leo does to try and keep them back. The team became frenzied, calling for Remus. 

It was too late. Leo knew that this was his end. 

Once, when Leo was little, he asked his grandmother why people didn't just get the flowers removed. She smiled at him sadly and told him that, there might be a person you loved so much you couldn't bear the idea of not loving them. Even if you died for it. 

At the time, he brushed it off as stupid but now, now as tears sqeezed through his blurry vision and the feeling of the cold tile floor disappears, he understands exactly what she meant. 

The last thought that went through his mind, before the petals, flowers, and blood came up for the last time, was of his two loves. In an instant, all of his fantasies of Finn and Logan melted into the reality of their friendship and flew past his eyes. With one last satisfied smile, Leo closed his eyes. His grandma was right. 

Some love really was worth dying for.

Just a quick reminder, this is my entry for @hpbrokenhearts so if you liked this fic or it made you cry/broke your heart, please put a broken heart in the comments, either in emoji form or not! Thank you so much for reading!!!

[contrabandhothead]

Hi! I saw your post about requests! :) could I get some BOB head cannons of what it’s like to date them while also being is easy company? :)

I’m so so SO sorry this took so long, and I hope you like it 🤞🏻also, I couldn’t do all of them because school has been keeping me very busy. If you want to send another request, and i’ll do more for you when I have time 💕 Enjoy!

Dick Winters

generally very private about his relationship

mom and dad™ of easy co. 

 i want to say that he puts you on his team during missions, but i feel like he thinks it’s unprofessional 

so he probably puts you on a team with someone he trusts and that he knows won’t take unnecessary risks *cough cough* Speirs *cough cough* 

doesn’t mean he doesn’t get worried though 

give this man a massage please, he’s stressed af  

you’d never want to jeopardize his position though, so you’re generally okay with it 

however, sometimes you get a little lonely 

Dick notices this and tries to clear out a slot in his schedule in order to spend some quality time with you 

treats you like any of the other men, except when you’re alone

king of stolen kisses behind crumbling walls before a battle

very healthy relationship overall 12/10 would be an amazing father 

secretly wants to get married when the war is over 

i’m not saying he definitely proposed on V-E Day but he definitely did it 

cries at the wedding, especially since it’s been so long since he’s seen you all dolled up because of the war 

also cries because he’s finally getting to marry the love of his life 

drunkenly told Nix at his bachelor party about how amazing you would look at your wedding and then went on and on about the specific shade of your eyes

S I M P 

Nix never lets him forget it 

Lewis Nixon

this man 

let’s be for real here 

he has NO idea how to display affection at all, especially because of his past 

so he does what any rich boy would do 

showers you in gifts that you don’t need 

it’s not that you’re ungrateful for them, you just wish he would understand that you don’t love him for his money 

i feel like everyone forgets that he’s lowkey rich 

can’t relate Nix

he will buy you anything he sees you look at for more than a second

always has them delivered by some random Private 

the men tease you RELENTLESSLY for it 

“hey Y/N, what did that overflowing wallet buy you this week?”

“Shut up Tab”

is always worried about you 

especially since he usually isn’t on the battlefield since he moved to staff

you’re fine 

you can definitely handle yourself after Sobel’s training what a fucking dick

takes you out on small simple dates when you guys actually have weekend passes 

the guys always help you get ready for your dates (they see you as a little sister it’s really cute) 

Ron Speirs 

this man 

oh wow 

the flavor 

never really got to see you until Dog Co. was basically absorbed by Easy Co. 

definitely thinks he’s not good enough for you 

when you first introduced the Easy Co. men to him, they thought the exact same thing (they changed their minds after a while though) 

REASSURE THIS MAN. EVERY. STINKIN. DAY. THAT HE IS GOOD ENOUGH. 

P L E A S E 

secretly is a cuddle monster

will 100% sneak into your foxhole to cuddle and will slit anyone’s throat that mentions it 

this man has arms and legs like an octopus when it comes to cuddling 

will pull you back into his arms even if you need to use the bathroom and will not be letting go 

steals you pretty things for absolutely no reason (Ron, no) 

the man is like a freakin magpie

the men of Easy Co. grow to like him more when they realize how happy he makes you and how he doesn’t hurt you 

he actually values their opinion on your relationship a lot

he knows Easy is like family and you’re like the younger sister 

doesn’t show it though 

pushes you away when he feels insecure 

jealous™

surprisingly domestic 

Carwood Lipton 

wholesome but to the max™

you’re both so in love i feel like i’m going to throw up rainbows

signed up for the paratroopers together

i feel like Carwood is the type of person to marry his high school sweetheart 

so yeah, you guys are that™ couple

best aunt and uncle of easy co. 

Lip worries about you just a littleee more than the other men 

he’s just a worry wart in general 

almost threw hands with Sobel once when Sobel insulted you 

he will not stand for anyone insulting his gal 

isn’t as private as Dick is with his relationship, but is known to hide it from superior officers other than Nix and Winters

aka Sobel

was 100% willing to get kicked out of the infantry to defend you from Sobel 

thinks a lot about how good of a mom you’d be, especially when he sees you caring for the men

is also a cuddler, though not nearly as clingy as Ron

just a loose arm to tuck you into his side, especially during Bastogne 

prefers having you on his team, not only because he cares about you, but also because he admires your skill and accuracy 

you’re a damn good shot, and he’d scream it from a mountain for all to hear 

so proud of his gal 

George Luz

you’re either the jokester and the stoic couple, the shy kid and the jokester couple, or the jokester and the jokester couple 

there’s no in between 

cracks terrible jokes just to see you smile 

still tries pick up lines even AFTER you two are dating (even the guys shake their heads)

you two are the entertainment for easy co. let me tell you 

you’re also the only person that can get George to shut up 

you must thank him in kisses he takes no other currency 

clingy baby™

it’s like dating a 12 year old boy sometimes 

he can be so immature but it’s kind of endearing at times

everyone is immediately accepting of your relationship because it just makes sense and you’re both good for each other

wants a hug and a kiss even if you’re just leaving the dining hall to go to the bathroom 

just give the man what he wants or he’ll pout all day until you kiss his cheek 

you guys once had a match of how long you could ignore each other once 

he was surprisingly dedicated 

but he broke 

he snapped like a twig after everyone went to sleep

he dived into your foxhole and begged you to talk to him

he kept snuggling closer to you until you talked to him again

Joe Toye 

rough on the outside, soft on the inside  

brings you flowers when he asks you out (surprisingly very traditional and respectful when he asks you out)

everyone has a good time when Toye is with you, he loosens up a lot more 

loves when you pet his hair and he can just stare up at the stars while laying in your lap 

he’s just as bad as Speirs when it comes to cuddling 

a cuddle bug but won’t admit it 

actually might be worse than Speirs when it comes to cuddling because he can actually sneak into your bunk while you’re sleeping 

also wants to fight Sobel when Sobel insults you and actually almost threw hands 

he almost got court martialed and was 2 steps away from getting up in Sobel’s face before Guarnere and Luz stopped him

hands down the dumbest thing he has ever done 

you were so mad at him for it 

you didn’t talk to him for a week 

you felt bad because he was always giving you those puppy dog eyes from across the dining hall 

Joe gets teased by the guys for being sweet on you  

“at least I got a broad! the rest of ya’ can’t really say that much.”

will not hesitate to let you win during arm wrestling 

he’s not allowed to arm wrestle with you anymore because the guys know he’s just letting you win 

you’re his #1 fan during arm wrestling 

look at those arms tho

Joe  Liebgott   

y’all thought Toye was soft 

OH BOY 

the way Joe acts around you is definitely bullying material for the other guys 

Lieb drinks respect women juice 

thinks you’re so cool 

would probably walk up to random people and be like “that’s her. she’s my girlfriend. can you believe how lucky i am?” 

thinks it’s so cute when you show off your brand new jump wings to him

you just looked so excited 

he wasn’t even staring at the wings when you started rambling about how happy you were, he was just making this stupid in love face

definitely grabbed your face and kissed you hard after that 

he wants SO many kids???? 

ya know those lists that lots of girls have on their phones and it’s just a bunch of future baby names??? that’s Joe 

this man has 8 names

4 girls names and 4 boy names 

he plans to use every name 

just wants to live the domestic life with you after the war 

will freeze his ass off and take your watch just so you can get some extra sleep 

another cuddle monster (they’re multiplying)

whispers really cute things in german to you until you fall asleep

has also almost fought Sobel for shit he said to you 

David Webster 

you help him fit in more with the other guys 

please teach him the art of socializing  

yes, the men have stolen his journal to read all his terrible poetry about you

still gets shit for it to this day 

shares his chocolate bar with you 

longing stares but from across the room 

doesn’t actually take you out until the war is over because he wants to do it right dammit 

has little to absolutely no relationship experience

please teach him 

or better yet, struggle with him and get made fun of by all the guys 

they actually accept Web more now that he’s with you 

cuz Easy Co. loves you 

sends letters all the time when he’s sent to the hospital 

everyone teases him that he acts like he’s more likely married to Liebgott than to you

you’re the only reason the men will stop teasing him 

definitely more badass then him 

you radiate boss energy and that’s what easy co. likes about you 

especially Web

everyone’s like “that’s my girl!”  

and he just smiles in the corner with the rest of them 

Bill Guarnere 

DID I SAY SOFT??? 

S O F T 

weak for his girl 

arm wrestles just to get your attention (flexes all the time for pete’s sake) 

also wants like a gazillion children and talks about it constantly with Liebgott

this man wants an army of little Italian kids 

no one makes fun of you or Guarnere for his actions to get your attention because they don’t want his fist in their face 

people who have almost punched Sobel for making fun of their girl: let’s add Guarnere to the list 

you didn’t ignore him, you just told him off for being an idiot 

if i could describe it, he sulked like a puppy that got told no more treats

so proud of you when you get your jump wings 

probably makes a toast about it at the celebration 

he was so drunk but it was so cute

literally will do anything for your attention 

chugging three bottles of whiskey so Y/N will pay attention to me??? pass the bottle bitch

not a massive cuddle monster but enjoys PDA and the occassional ass slap

probably has slapped your ass in front of company before

this boy has no morals smh 

don’t worry, you get him back though 

Frank Perconte 

worry wart but multiply it by 1000x 

is always bothering you to brush your teeth 

not because he’s scared your breath stinks, but because he cares about you and your oral hygiene 

now gets bullied about oral hygiene and his relationship with you 

ft Skip. “oh Y/N, take me away my princess. did you brush your little pearly teeth??? i would never want your perfect smile to be ruined.” 

Skip has been chased multiple times around Toccoa for this behavior 

will fight anyone that thinks you’re not a good shot 

is amazed how good you are at darts (knows you’re better than Buck) 

does share a foxhole with you 

is NOT part of the monster cuddler club because he knows when to stop 

has not arm wrestled for your attention but will if so needed 

always needs attention

whiny 12 year old boy P.2

sometimes it’s like you’re dating Luz as well 

Luz has purposefully third wheeled before 

yes, you heard me 

ON PURPOSE

likes spontaneous dates 

would fight Sobel for you but isn’t stupid enough to almost do it 

Buck Compton  

realized he had heart eyes for you before his old girl broke it off with him

WAS RELIEVED WHEN SHE SAID SHE WAS DONE WITH HIM IN BASTOGNE 

the other Easy men were like “dude, what the hell are you waiting for. GO GET YOUR GIRL!” 

let’s you win at darts 

is also stupid and needy enough to arm wrestle for your attention

actually wins though 

wants you to kiss his guns (absolutely not sir) 

jealous and protective 

jealous af around Winters 

gets teased a lot about it by the other men

but they can see why he’s insecure about it, Winter’s could sweep any girl he wanted to off her feet

indeed a cuddle monster 

will only share a foxhole with you in Bastogne 

no one else

radiator of heat and thus a good cuddler though 

will only let you make fun of him without repercussions 

wants you to move in as soon as the war is over

always demands to be in your unit during an attack

will keep you safe at all costs (and one of the reasons why he got shot in the ass again) 

Floyd Talbert 

THE ABSOLUTE SWEETEST BABY 

 people use to bully Tab for his condom shipments

now they bully him for the way he acts around you 

tough guy??? no. absolute stick of melted butter when around you 

thinks you’re a saint 

so does the rest of Easy though, so I guess it doesn’t matter

they had everyone from Easy give him a pep talk just to ask you out (Trigger even barked at him) 

he was actually worried you would reject him 

no one will ever reject that man lol it doesn’t make sense

not necessarily a cuddle monster

DEFINITELY A PDA MONSTER THOUGH 

likes when you sit on his lap 

can’t explain it, it just makes sense

will also arm wrestle for your attention 

will honestly do anything for you 

you need me to bring you Jupiter in a jar??? 

sure babe I’ll be right back 

has specific pet names for you 

his favorites are buttercup, angel, and beautiful

Babe Heffron 

P U R E 

does not get bullied for being in a relationship with you because everyone loves him

not a single person in this company, including you, would hesitate to sacrifice their life for that replacement 

whines a lot to you when you don’t give him attention

will arm wrestle for your attention and loses

has not had the chance to fight Sobel before but I feel like he could if he wanted to 

will tear Dike to shreads if he even mutter one hateful word against you 

cuddle monster #2323293

enjoys being the little spoon and the big spoon while in the foxhole 

shares his food with you during meals 

will not hesitate to get shot in the ass for you 

also will not hesitate to get shot for you in general 

is like an angry 6 year old baby when you don’t pay attention to him

is known to give the silent treatment when you’re too busy to talk to him for days

MAKE TIME FOR HIM DO IT NOW 

wants you to meet his Ma in Philly after the war 

has many hopeful dreams that include you after the war 

will only share chocolate with you and Gene

give him a hug, even when he says he doesn’t need it

Eugene Roe 

HOLY SWEET JESUS 

FIRST OFF 

NO ONE IN THEIR GODDAMN RIGHT MIND WOULD EVER MAKE FUN OF YOU, ESPECIALLY AROUND DOC

this man has so many pet names 

he is not afraid to use them on the battlefield, especially if you’re bleeding out because he’ll know you’ll answer to them

“darlin’, mon amour, ma mie, ma belle, ma chérie” 

 please stop Gene, it’s embarassing but also like don’t stop

get us a defibrillator his heart stopped while he was looking at you and we need to do CPR NOW-

thinks you’re the most beautiful girl ever

is not dumb enough to arm wrestle for your attention

he just makes this grumpy or upset face and you catch on quickly 

he’s also not dumb enough to fight Sobel

BUT HE WILL FIGHT ANY SOLDIER WITH THE AUDACITY TO INSULT YOU 

is always worrying about you

especially in Bastogne 

always jumping into your foxhole to check for any wounds

probably lost his sizzuhs that way

always has extra bandages just for you 

treats you with tender care

Donald Malarkey 

THE CUTEST COUPLE EVER

NOT EVEN SKIP HAS THE HEART TO MAKE FUN OF YOU 

is not dumb enough to fight Sobel for you 

doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to punch him though 

is dumb enough to arm wrestle for your attention 

it lowkey depends on the day though 

i mean 

he doesn’t need to arm wrestle for you to admire his arms 

like, have you seen that gif of him taking of his shirt???

loves cuddles in your foxhole but is not a cuddle monster

he’s a big baby when he gets tired

loves it when you take care of him 

has definitely fallen asleep once on your shoulder during watch 

would run up Currahee with full gear 3 times just to see you smile

he needs a hug. give him one now. 

likes to rest his chin on your head 

also wants you to move in (and maybe get married) after the war

treats you kindly, but he’s still a sarcastic little shit 

kiss his muscles

that was literally so long i can’t believe i finished

[anika-ann]

Attached: Words Lost in Translation Pt.1

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

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 4200

Summary: There’s a new guy in your history class – a foreign student from Milan, Italy. Handsome, nice enough, pretty smart, actually.

But dammit, you should have known that a guy complimenting the way you say his name will be trouble – Bucky certainly thinks so from the start… and he’s not wrong. Oh boy.

A/N: Attached: Words Lost in Translation is a 3-part addition to the Attached series.

A/N: Many thanks to my lord and saviour @chase-your-dreams-away​ for her help with Italian bits which you’ll find in the fic :-* Seriously, big shout-out for her, she was awesome! Vocabulary at the end if you’re interested.

And many thanks to @wxstedhexrt​ for sending me the link and putting the plot bunny into my head in the first place :-* 

Warnings: smug insistent jerk, harassment(?), swearing, one remark about LBGT+ that could feel insensitive

Story masterlist

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“Uhm… hi. Can I sit here? And uh—this is kinda ridiculous, but could I borrow a pen?”

A very much handsome young man was standing by your seat in the second row, week two of your first semester of master’s at uni, deep brown eyes, naturally tanned skin, relatively tall, his smile a fraction shy but honest.

What else could you have done that what you did?

Even if he wasn’t a relatively cute guy – mind you, you were dating Steve, very happily needless to say – you had no reason to be a bitch to a guy with slight accent you weren’t sure where to place, to a guy who was apparently a tiny bit lost on his first day at Bucky’s class.

“Yeah, sure. Seat all yours,” you smiled encouragingly, sliding him an extra pen on surface of the desk.

His smile widened brilliantly, exposing a set of perfectly narrow and white teeth. A twinkle appeared in his eye and you caught your heart skipping a beat.

Oh. Ah-oh.

“Thank you so much. Something tells me that the prof wouldn’t appreciate me missing the first class of his and not taking notes on the second,” your mystery student grimaced and you chuckled, unable to help yourself.

First of all, yeah, kinda on point.

Second of all, not on point at all, because the said prof was Professor James Barnes. Bucky had a relatively benevolent policy when it came to his classes – yes, he appreciated when his students were paying attention, interacting even, but as long as you weren’t an ass or weren’t making noise (or both), you were fine.

You said so to your new classmate and he nodded in acknowledgement.

“Good to know… but you know what would be even better?” he asked, cocking his head to side curiously – or teasingly, it was hard to tell.

“Oh, what? I guess you need the syllabus too, right? I can-“

A low chuckle erupted from his throat, his eyes glimmering with amusement as his gaze gave you a not-exactly-subtle once-over you weren’t sure how you felt about.

Except you knew exactly how you felt about it, you just knew you shouldn’t feel that way.

“That would probably come in handy too, but I’d rather know the name of my lovely saviour with a pretty smile.”

You found yourself lowering your gaze, heat rising to your cheeks.

Here was a thing – this was most flirting you got in like a year. You adored Steve, you truly did, from the bottom of your heart, he was a dream come true… however, the fact that you two were dating was clear to everyone.

And by everyone, you really meant everyone; considering the scene at your bachelor graduation and the mess around, it appeared that the whole damn city accepted the fact that you were Steve’s and thus no one even considered stepping on his toes.

Which was alright, absolutely, but… girl’s got needs, her ego craves a boost from time to time, even if it’s an appreciative glance from a stranger. Just a teeny-tiny bit of flirting.

No one ever flirted with you anymore.

It was why it was way too easy to fall into the sweet trap as you introduced yourself, lifting you gaze only to see your companion wearing a lop-sided smile. He most definitely liked what he saw.

“Sweet name for a sweet girl. I’m Daniel. I’m here for two semesters. And before you ask, it’s Milano, Italy,” he added quickly with a flash of his teeth again, holding out his hand – and upon having it accepted, he most certainly held it too long and swept his thumb over the back of your hand.

Which was the point when your head started yelling at you to stop this in an instant and draw a line. Yes, it felt amazing to be complimented to, but you had a boyfriend – a fucking dreamy one, no less – and you sure as hell didn’t want to give Daniel (how was his name pronounced again?) the wrong impression.

You retreated your hand with your smile turning tight-lipped, a cold pang of guilt stabbing you in your gut. Served you right.

“Nice to meet you, Daniel,” you said politely, and his expression shifted into one just a fraction patronizing.

“Da-ni­-el. Kinda soft ‘i’. Daniel. You’ll get a hang of it, I’m sure. Once more, please?”

Well, since he said please. “Da-ni-el,” you repeated more from a common curtesy, because honestly, the least you could do was to try to pronounce a name right for a handsome classmate.

Shush it, it doesn’t matter if he’s handsome or not!

Daniel smiled widely, turning his palms up and gesturing towards you. “Perfetto. Amazing. You’re a natural.”

Before you could say thanks, Bucky entered the class and you felt the stab in your insides intensify as his eyes found you unmistakably, as if he had witnessed our interaction with the Italian and was telling you he’d rat you out to Steve if you didn’t stop right now.

Ridiculous – there was nothing to talk about. You were just being nice to the friendly stranger who happened to be in your class and whom you’d be meeting for at least a semester. That was all.

Except you still felt your heart pounding furiously, equally because of the feeling of getting caught doing something wrong and because of enjoying the attention. Fuck.

Okay, fine. You’d tell Steve about this guy on your own as a precaution. It would at least remind you to keep yourself in check, because honestly, you had no desire to get tangled up in some mess. You had no desire to taint the beautiful thing you had with Steve with anything at all, less so for a fling.

Content with yourself, you forced yourself to listen to Bucky’s lecture, taking notes like you were supposed to, determined to ignore Daniel’s presence.

Except Daniel interrupted him twice with questions and remarks about accuracy, drawing attention of the whole class to him and you felt hot in your face for a whole different reason than before – simply hating that someone sitting next to you was, frankly, quickly getting annoying.

And God, you had no idea how much.

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Daniel Gallo was a relatively nice guy –social perhaps a little too much, but cute and open, easy to be friends with.

However, he had one fatal flaw, one you discovered very early on; he was the smuggest asshole you had ever met.

Perhaps it was his need to correct Bucky all the time – mostly failing, because Bucky knew his shit, he was just sparing you the tinniest details, leaving them for you to find in text books.

Maybe it was the fact that Daniel hadn’t given you the pen back, not even asking if he could keep it for the day, which you’d understand despite being protective of your pens; except he carried it around for two weeks, using it in front of you, returning it only upon your curious and slightly sarcastic comment about it.

Most definitely though, it was the fact that he was unbearably insistent on flirting with you – shamelessly – even after you grew so uncomfortable that you blatantly told him you had a boyfriend. He smirked, but backed off for the day, only to continue his advances the next week.

And then Jill, a girl from your year and a sort-of-friend, actually told you that he mentioned you in front of her, saying that you were two growing rather close, if she knew what he meant, and she admitted that she snorted into her latté when hearing it.

“What? What is it?” he had asked.

“I sincerely doubt that,” she claimed she had said, causing him to frown.

“Why? She gay? I don’t think so, I can tell this kind of stuff.”

“No. She’s taken. Very happily, I might add. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“Nah. We’ll see about that,” he had replied supposedly and learning that felt like a punch to your stomach, causing you to see red.

You showed him ignorance incarnate the next week, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

And then even Bucky noticed and kept casting dirty glares at you both as if you had done the worst crime.

To be honest, after that you did feel dirty; but you didn’t want to make a fuss.

In fact, you hadn’t even told Steve about Daniel besides informing him about the existence of a foreign student in your class.

Partly, shame was to blamed, because you kept wondering if you had done enough; perhaps you should have been more radical, sterner with Daniel to make him stop.

The other part of the reason was that Steve was under tons of pressure because of his academic duties; all professors had to publish an article in a prestige journals dedicated to their area of expertise at least once in two years – university policy – and working on that while teaching several classes was simply taking its toll on him. You really didn’t want to add to his stress.

It wasn’t even a big deal – Daniel was overly social and he probably said shit like the stuff you learned from Jill about other girls too. What was the golden rule? When there’s nothing broken, don’t fix it.

There was nothing. No problem at all.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Except there was.

That morning, you were zoned out, because Steve snapped at you for not doing the dishes and didn’t bother to apologize till you left the apartment in a foul mood. Then he went to shower you with texts full of apologies, gradually growing into pure cutesy (involving a picture of his puppy eyes) and gifs and stuff and you ended up spending the majority of Bucky’s lecture on your phone.

By Bucky’s policy, that was perfectly okay, because he couldn’t care less if you were smiling like a loon into your phone – hell, if he noticed, he was probably glad, knowing shit had rained down and was now being fixed.

At the end of the class, Daniel graciously offered you his neat notes – and really, they looked amazing –, surprising you rather pleasantly.

“Oh… that’s… that’s very kind of you,” you stuttered, almost rendered speechless. Perhaps you truly were just making a big deal of things, seeing something that wasn’t-

“Anything for my principessa.“

The cloud that had been following you since you left the apartment made its comeback in a second, so fast that you actually felt your stomach drop to your feet.

Oh no, you were not imagining things – after all, Daniel even had a term of fucking endearment for you. And you might not be speaking Italian, but you understood that just fine.

“Perhaps one day she’ll repay me with a dinner date,” he continued with a supposedly charming smile, one you found disgusting at the moment.

You opened your mouth and swiftly closed it when no sound came out, scoffing at your naivety. Of course he wouldn’t give them for free, jackass. You shook your head with a wry smile and packed your untouched pencil case and papers, rising to your feet without another word.

A hand on your wrist stopped you from spinning on your heel and walking away.

“Aspetta, aspetta-” an all-to-familiar voice now whispered as you grinded your teeth and glared at the point of contact, skin on skin. He squeezed your wrist almost gently before letting go. “Wait. Here. Just… take a picture, okay? Where would we be if weren’t nice from time to time…”

You really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction… but you could really use his notes too.

Dammit shit.

“Thank you,” you uttered, obediently taking a photo of the three pages of ridiculously perfect notes. Then, you met his gaze, face torn between stern and grateful. “Just… a reminder: I have a boyfriend.”

Slow smile spread on his lips and in that moment, you wanted to punch him in those perfect teeth of his. “Doesn’t stand in the way of admiring your beauty, does it, la mia ragazza…”

You had no clue what he said, but the la mia hinted you that he called you something his and that sent a surge of white-hot anger through your veins, mixing with humiliation. Your hand actually curled up in a fist, twitching – but instead of giving your piling anger an outlet, you took a deep breath, huffed and stalked away without a word of goodbye.

“See you next week!” Daniel called after you and you gripped the strap of your backpack tighter, squeezing your eyes shut.

That night, you got next to zero sleep, watching Steve’s passed-out form with tears in your eyes.

It was ridiculous, it was nothing and you were doing nothing wrong-- but you couldn’t make yourself to cuddle to Steve’s side despite desperately needing his wordless affirmation that everything was alright.

Just a simple embrace of his was like a promise of a brighter future. With him.

Chuckling wryly into your palm, you wiped at your tears and snuggled to Steve, causing him to stir and hum, his arm circling around you on instinct, a barely-there sloppy kiss to your hair chasing more tears into your eyes along with a watery smile gracing your lips.

Yeah. Everything was going to be fine.

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Nothing was fine.

Daniel was getting handsy if you could call it that. His thigh brushed yours multiple times the next class as he was sitting uncomfortably close and no amount of subtle pushing away (of you and your chair) was helping, so no, there could have been nothing coincidental about that.

You dug your nails into your palm and bit your cheek, but survived the lesson somehow.

Bucky called for you at the end of the class, saving you further interaction with that Italian Satan, allowing you to breathe freely until he addressed the very problem your head was occupied with.

Bucky didn’t like Daniel’s attitude to begin with – which wasn’t surprising, seeing as he was being a prick – but he liked the fact Daniel seemed to be awfully close to you even less if his tone was anything to go by and his eyes screamed accusations and you fucking hated yourself, feeling the tell-tale of incoming tears burning in your eyes.

“I can talk to him, you know. Tell him to back off,” he offered then though, the grey with blue threads of his irises warming when he noticed your state.

The pressure in your gut eased upon learning Steve’s best friend didn’t only blame you and apparently wanted to help rather than presenting you with ‘you made your bed you lie in it’ attitude.

You even charmed a small smile for him, determined to do justice to your word: “Thank you… it’s fine. I’ll deal with him. I can handle one guy who doesn’t take no for an answer.”

And sure you could.

Daniel hugged you goodbye the next class, saying he was planning a get-away with his new friends for a weekend and it might be dangerous – fucking absurd.

With your heart in your throat, you quickly patted his back and twisted from his arms, feeling dirty.

“No kiss for good luck?” he teased, that annoying smug smile on his face and you had to remind yourself that punching him was a terrible idea seeing as you were already walking a fine line dating a professor – who happened to be the best friend of one of your professors.

You didn’t need any problems – and for some reason, you were certain Daniel would make a big fucking deal of it. So no punching it was.

Your resolve crumbled to nothing when a sudden kiss landed on your cheek, the sensation cold like a kiss of the death itself.

Before you could as much as catch your breath which got knocked out of your lungs and not in the good way, your blood pressure skyrocketing along with your pulse to a point where your head began spinning… he was gone.

You gulped, eyes fluttering shut as the world seemed to sway from its place and you nearly jumped out of your skin when a hand grasped your arm.

“Daniel, go fuck yourself-“ you snapped and glared at him- only to meet Bucky’s angry and very much concerned gaze.

“Too bad you didn’t say that about thirty seconds ago. You alright?” the brunet asked you, grip firm yet gentle as he steadied your shaky stance.

“Uh-huh,” you hummed, a little strangled noise. “And I am gonna tell him exactly this the next time I see him.”

“Not good enough for me. You’re not stupid, I know you’re not. But I’m not either,” he remarked, expression gravel. His tone hardened, unlike his eyes that studied you thoroughly, examining your face as if searching for something. “You think I didn’t notice the change of your wardrobe?”

An icy-cold shiver ran an up your spine, causing all your muscles to stiffen.

Fuck. He noticed.

You supposed it wasn’t too hard to see and it was only natural that he kept an eye on you as on his best friend’s girlfriend. Yes, your Tuesday’s outfits suddenly somehow lacked skirts and anything with a deeper neckline than a turtle-neck, simply in hopes to turn Daniel off or at least not to pluck up his interest further; an action that had taken zero effect.

But being called out like this? That stung. It hurt your pride and it hurt by its very nature, because it reminded you how pathetic you were, unable to get rid of a jerk who didn’t take no for an answer – in a public space, with witnesses for god’s sake. It made you feel weak and incompetent.

So you looked Professor Barnes dead in the eye, your lips a thin line, your voice cold as you spoke the only words that made sense at that time:

“I—I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

So what if you stuttered? So what if his brows furrowed with what was a damn patronizing worry? You didn’t care as you gathered your stuff without another word exchanged.

You made a mental note to wear your favourite outfit the next week, forgoing pants and turtle-necks, because you could fucking take care of yourself.

Penny encouraged you, clearly having faith in you too, but she also gently reminded you that you could report him.

As if. Brining more attention to your person was the last thing you needed.

You could do this on your own, thank you very much.

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For all your bravado, you asked a girl you barely knew by name if you could sit next to her and nearly cried when she said yes and another girl seated herself to your other side within two minutes. You even smiled for yourself contentedly, seeing a dawn of a new age.

And then Daniel fucking Gallo walked in and charmed his way to the seat next to you anyway, somehow managing to scare off your original saviour as well.

Well, too bad for him; you had your confidence back along with your outfit that suited you much better and you were going to tell that jerk to fuck off, just like you promised to Bucky and yourself.

“You thought I wasn’t coming today, la mia bella ragazza? I couldn’t bear not seeing you…” he started off again and you eyed him head to toe, causing a smile spread on his face. You had found that smile cute once, the kind of smile you would let a person get away with murder for.

Now it was making you want to commit murder.

“I was hoping actually.”

“Oh, sassy today, are we? What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? He had the audacity to-

You can’t punch him, you can’t punch him, think of the bureaucracy and your future…

What about my satisfaction?

Zip it!

You took a deep breath and watched that asshole take a seat next to you, automatically shuffling his chair closer.

“Daniel, look-“

“Zitta, zitta…” he interrupted you softly, but the manner he spoke with only pissed you off further. Fuck Italian.

“I don’t know what that means and frankly, I don’t care. I’m taken. I said so, several times. So back off,” you hissed, watching your volume despite the prof not being in yet – you didn’t need a scene. You were disgustingly certain Daniel had brought enough attention to you already – in fact, you were shocked Steve hadn’t learned about this yahoo yet with how quickly gossip spread on this university.

And that Bucky hadn’t told him-- God, you hoped Bucky wasn’t saving it for today’s boys night-

To your utter shock and annoyance, Daniel didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, smiling widely as if amused at your antics. “Am I putting doubts in that bella testolina of yours?”

Your blood boiled at such implication… and maybe there was a thin flow of steam coming from your ears too? Because you couldn’t fucking believe this guy, implying such thing-

--okay, you weren’t sure what exactly he said, honestly, but you understood just enough. No doubts. You were perfectly sure he was an asshole you wanted to have nothing to do with.

“No! No way! Jesus- okay. Let’s be clear. Was... this,” you gestured between the two of you in self-explanatory manner, “flattering at first? Yes. But seriously, now you’re just making me uncomfortable.”

As if appealing to his conscience would work…

“Then give in. Just one little dinner,” he insisted, showing a small space between his thumb and forefinger, grinning as if he hadn’t been listening to you at all. “What could it hurt? Who knows, maybe I’ll show you a real good time and you’ll forget all about some boring boyfriend of yours… who I’m not sure he exists actually-“

You inhaled sharply, wheezing in fact, heat of righteous anger flooding your whole body. That fucker-!

“Oh for fuck’s sake-“

You can’t punch him. You. Can. Not. Punch. Him.

You repeated those words to yourself like a magical mantra that was losing its effect, because there was nothing you wanted more. Maybe except for Steve punching him, that would be quite a show… but it was not an option.

For one, Steve, thank heavens, still didn’t know about Daniel’s unwanted advances and for two, chances were that he would show a little less restraint and you wouldn’t blame him one bit. But it would bring a whole new set of trouble, so you had to deal with this alien of a man on your own.

And right now, staring into that stupidly smug face of his, you only saw one possible solution.

“Okay, fine.”

You almost slapped your hand over your mouth as soon as the words left your lips, numbing horror overwhelming your body.

What the fuck did you just do?!

“Yes!” Daniel whisper-yelled, pumping his fist and you noticed that the class was gradually falling silent, probably with Bucky’s approach – but there was still enough chatter going on for you to save the situation somehow.

“-but you have to earn it,” you added in an equally hushed tone.

He cocked his eyebrow, as if smelling your fear that arrived instantly after the rash decision he provoked from you. “I won’t back out from a challenge, bellezza.”

Yeah, I friggin’ bet.

Your mind was racing hundred miles an hour, choosing to ignore the whatever-it-meant petname in favour of the crisis at hand.

“How about… you ask the professor a question-“ Oh Bucky was going to have your head on a stick for that, but hey, he had offered to help you- “-and if he answers wrong, I’ll go to one dinner with you, tonight.”

…that would be alright, right? Just to get rid of him. One dinner so he would get the clue at last. You’d be a hateful bitch, possibly embarrassing him, doing just about anything for him to finally stop making your life a living hell.

Yeah, looking back at the product of your frantic brain, it had been an excellent thinking actually. Go impulsive me!

Hell, tonight was perfect for it, with Steve having a night off with Bucky and you originally planning on studying with Penny. You would tell Steve after, explaining everything—or maybe before? Bucky was your witness that you weren’t exactly an enthusiastic participant in this, surely he would help you explain and would be able to distract Steve-

But really, that was all theoretical, because Daniel would have to catch Bucky off guard first, which was very unlikely. Bucky knew his subject through and through and Daniel’s chances were extremely low anyway.

“Easy-peasy,” Daniel grinned confidently, making you internally roll your eyes at his overconfident ass.

Or perhaps you had let your annoyance show for real? You couldn’t tell anymore, the adrenaline rush in your veins making certain things too sharp and other dull. For instance, you registered Daniel’s eyes flickering towards the teacher’s stand, his already wide smile growing enough to nearly tear his mouth.

“Even easier when we have a substitute.”

“What,” you blurted out, head snapping to the professor at the front.

A flash of blond hair and a shade darker beard. Broad shoulders. Blue eyes of which you simply knew they had a glint of green in them.

Your heart positively stopped in your chest, your lips parting in mute horror.

“Oh shit.”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Vocabulary: Perfetto - perfect Principessa – princess Aspetta – wait La mia (bella) ragazza – my (pretty) girl Zitta – shh Bella testolina – pretty head

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Part 2

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Eh, I swear the first idea was giving off less of a harassment vibe. But it gets better, I promise ;)

I apologize to Italians if you find this offensive, but it was in fact not my intention at all for Daniel to be a representation of a whole nation. I figured there are insistent jerks all over the globe. (And I happened to have an Italian real-life template, not gonna lie.)

[jungkooks-left-tiddie]

I hope you get run by a fucking aeroplane ❤️

Warnings:  Mild cursing, Old men being assholes.

Word Count: 2.8k words

Kavya

August 27th, 2020; 6:30pm

New Delhi, India. 

"Is the editing for the new manuscript done?" Kavya leaned down to assess the work that was being done. 

"It's coming along well, ma'am. Just cleaning up the text." The intern gave her a nervous smile.

 "That's good to hear." She said, going through the progress that the editing department had made. "Be sure to crosscheck after you're done editing." 

"Yes, ma'am!" Just then, Kavya's secretary came rushing in.

"Ma'am you have a meeting with the Illustration Team in a few minutes," Kavya glanced at her watch and frowned upon realising that she didn't have much time to make it across the building to the main conference room. 

"Thank you, Mitra. Just hand me my iPad and I'll be off." Kavya briskly walked to the room where the meeting was meant to be held, greeting the workers passing by. 

"Ma'am, the cover design team is ready with their designs," Rachel, the head of the cover design department dressed Kavya.

"Wonderful! I'll ask Mitra to schedule a meeting when I'm free," Kavya paused, glancing at her schedule, "Actually, could you please e-mail it to me?" Rachel smiled gently.

"Of course we can, I'll make sure you get the updated presentation with the notes and all of the other requirements as well." 

"Thank you so much; you honestly have no idea how much you've helped me today." Kavya shook her hand and hugged her for a moment. 

"Of course. I understand how much stress you're under, the least I could do is help you out!" Rachel smiled yet again. 

"Rachel, you're a life-saver and I would love to stay and chat, but I've got to get going to the Illustration Team's meeting," 

"Of course," Rachel made shooing motions with her hands, "Off you go!" Kavya laughed and ran towards the direction of the main conference room. 

"Ma'am you're here!" The head of the illustration team, a man in his mid-40's named Mohammad Aamir smiled and shook her hand. 

"Thank you very much Mr Mohammad. I'm truly excited to see what you have planned for today." 

"Oh I assure you, Ms Agarwal, you will not regret trusting Mr Mohammad's department this time," Two of the workers in the marketing department took their seats as Aamir gestured one of his workers to begin the presentation.

Kavya took out her iPad and started noting down the small changes and corrections that needed to be made. This launch was going to be one of the biggest events in the history of her company and she needed to make sure that everything was immaculate, including the character drawings that would be included in this particular book. 

"We initially had a bit of a dilemma deciding what features this character should have; but we managed to get through all of it and decided upon 5 main options," The character designs were on display, impressing Kavya as these were much better than she expected. 

"We have also included 5 sub-designs, for a more variety of options," The worker turned to face the board members in the meeting room, 

"It's also worth mentioning that we have designed a variety of expressions, postures, and costume; keeping in mind the aesthetic impact and its significance to the storyline,"

"We have constructed the design for the costumes in the locations after carefully studying the different kinds of clothing worn by the locals and also not forgetting the cultural significance of the clothes and accessories," He flipped to the next slide. Kavya was thoroughly impressed until now, but of course, all good things come to an end.

"So as you can see here, the inspiration for the design of the diving gear was inspired by the modern-day swimsuits, focusing especially on the plunging necklines—"

"Pardon my interruption, but why does the diving gear look like a swimsuit? I thought I put special emphasis on the fact that the scene consisted of the characters going scuba diving?" The person presenting the PowerPoint looked uncomfortable under Kavya's piercing gaze. 

"Yes, but isn't this what women wear for swimming?" 

"They do, but this is what women wear when we're talking about beaches and swimming pools; not when they're going 140 feet underwater. Do you not know what scuba diving is?" 

"Yes, ma'am; but actually—"

"Ms Agarwal, are you not overreacting? It's a great marketing point. I mean swimwear is swimwear, am I right?" Gopal Das, a pesky man on the marketing team snickered, clearly proud of his seemingly intelligent statement. 

"Mr Das, It seems that your age has dwindled down your common sense. I'm sure all of you present here know that scuba divers have to wear protective gear to make sure they survive the pressure that the water exerts at that deep of a level. I'd like to see you dive in the Bay of Bengal with nothing but your underwear. Should be easy, right?" That seemed to shut the man up, but of course, sexist fuckers are everywhere. 

"I agree with Gopal sir, this-" The man said, pointing towards the pathetic excuse for a scuba diving suit, "Is a great attention point. People want this."  He crossed his pudgy hands. 

"I have said it before and I will say it again," Kavya took a deep breath and looked at them angrily. "I'm not going to compromise knowledge over what you claim are marketing points. I have made it clear time and time again on why design accuracies are important; and I stand by my statements." Kavya tried to convey her point in the most diplomatic way possible, but these two dumbasses were really testing her patience. 

"Well, we will not compromise sales to something as trivial as a mere swimsuit," 

"I agree with Mr. Roberts. It seems to me that you are letting your personal experiences get in the way of what could've been a successful launch!" If Kavya was mad before, she was absolutely furious now. 

"Mr Das, Mr Roberts, that's enough." The stern voice of Aamir snapped her out of her rage. 

"Let me make one thing crystal clear. So as long as you are in this company, you will not promote objectification. It's not that hard to think from the brain and not your genitalia." She glared at the two men. 

"To answer your previous statement Mr Das; yes. My experiences are getting in the way. So are the millions of people who constantly face the same issues." 

"Do you want to know what I think Mr Das?I think you and Mr Roberts are letting your personal fetishes come in the way of what otherwise was a great illustration. It's honestly not that hard to keep your perverted tendencies to yourself. And if you refuse to follow basic human decency; we'd be extremely glad to find a replacement." She had enough of their boomer heterosexual bullshit. 

"Now if you'd excuse me," She gathered her things and exited the room in fury. To think that she had hoped men would change; but as always, they continued to disappoint her (Like they do in bed). 

"Ma'am, wait!" The person presenting the PowerPoint came up to her. "I'm sorry for the disappointing design of the diving gear today. I wanted to use a complete different idea, and a much more humane and accurate one, but Gopal sir insisted that I use that for better marketing," He apologised, bowing his head slightly. 

"It's ok, uhhhh..." 

"Pavan, ma'am."

"Right. It's ok Pavan. I'm glad you are one of the few people in the illustration team with basic human decency. I understand your position, and I'm glad that you approached me. I also first-handedly know how much of a douchebag Gopal is," Kavya smiled slightly, hoping to ease some of his nerves. 

"Thank you so much Ma'am! I promise I won't disappoint you next time!" He bowed. 

"You better not. I have seen your skills, and you're far too creative and talented to let a person like Gopal boss you around." She patted his shoulder, smiling when he thanked her repeatedly. 

"Yes, Ms Agarwal," Aamir walked up to the both of you, looking extremely down, "I apologise for the way Mr Das and Mr Roberts spoke this meeting. It was completely out of line and disrespectful of them. I assure you, if I had known of this issue--"

"Mr Mohammad you don't have to apologise," Kavya smiled at him. "It wasn't your fault, so you must stop blaming yourself. I know those two men disturbed the flow of the meeting, but I stand by my previous comment. Pavan here," She looked at the employee, who was a little flustered, "Had amazing designs up his sleeves and the presentation overall was not bad."

"I think we can definitely improve some of them, but the inspiration, cultural and locational significances were completely accurate," Aamir looked a little bit happier after that statement. "I have noted down the changes that need to be made, and if you could e-mail this presentation to me, I would gladly note them down in the respective areas so you and your team could correct it." Pavan nodded enthusiastically. 

"I will send it to you very shortly ma'am."

"Excellent! I'm afraid I must go now," Kavya frowned a little.

 "Of course Ma'am. It was an honour talking to you,"

Kavya couldn't be more happier that  she that she could finally go home. Those last 30 minutes in the conference room were the most exhausting 30 minutes in the entire month. And suffice to say, she was ready to flop down on her bed and take a much-deserved nap.  Of course she knew that she had a shit ton of work to finish before sleeping, but the thought of doing it in the comforts of her home gave her something to look forward to. 

"Tired?" Maya Patel, her friend and CEO of Patel Publications, leaned against the doorframe.

"You have no fucking idea," Kavya started packing her stuff, getting ready to leave. 

"How was the meeting?"

"The most irritating meeting I've ever been to. Two hours of amazing illustrations and all of that had to come to an end because of two old men's perverted tendencies. 30 minutes of continuous sexism and objectification does things to one's brain." 

Maya looked like she'd smelled something nasty. "It was that bitch, Gopal; wasn't it"

"Yes, but this time he had a little minion. It's that other guy you hate, Kevin Roberts."

"Ugh," Maya made a puking face- "I hate them both so much, I always wanted to kick their pathetic asses out. And now my dream is finally coming true!" They laughed. 

"But seriously. I am going to fire them. There have been way too many complaints about them in general and I finally have the proof I need."

"Oh when you do fire them, please invite me so I can record that shit in full HD," Kavya walked inside the elevator, Maya following shortly behind. 

"No, because you will go on a vacation. That I asked you to go to." Maya crossed her arms. 

"More like forced me to go on one," Kavya snorted, but stopped once she noticed the stern expression on Maya's face.

"Ok look, I'll take a vacation when I want to," Kavya made her way to the parking lot where her Kia K5 was parked. 

"Besides, you need the new manuscript, right?" She smiled at Maya, who shook her head and smiled lightly. 

"I do, but that doesn't mean I don't want you to take a short break. It's concerning how much stress you take up. I just want you to relax" 

"Ok, I'll think about it. For now, I just want to go home and take a long nap," Kavya switched on the radio and set out on the road, noticing how most streets were suspiciously empty.

'That's weird,' She thought, 'The streets in Delhi are never empty.' She brushed it off and flipped through the radio stations to find the ones that played old songs, her personal favourite. 

The peaceful melodies of the retro songs calmed her on her drive back home. They were the kind of songs that put you in such a trance that you don't know where the time flew by. And of course, very shortly, she parked her car in her buildings allotted parking space. 

She greeted the security guard who was on patrol and entered the elevator. After entering the passcode to her apartment, she directly went to the fridge to get some cool water.  

Kavya then tossed her blazer and purse aside, ran to the bedroom, flopped on the bed and groaned loudly. Paying no mind that her lipstick would most likely stain the towel she had lain on the bed.

"I better freshen up," She sighed and went to complete her nighttime routine, which just consisted of taking a long hot shower and doing her 7-step skincare routine. After which she folded her clothes and tossed some of them in the washing machine. 

A late-night snack was well due, as Kavya did not have her dinner yet; and of course, Red Wine is a must!

"11pm chicken sandwiches are the best," She munched on her sandwich as she scrolled through her twitter to see what her friends shitposted today. 

She doubled in laughter over Maggie's posts, nearly choking on lettuce. Eventually she calmed down and filled herself in the news and gossip she's missed out on. 

"This is the best time of the day," She told herself as she read the texts she'd received today. 

The conversation seemed like it had no end to it, so Kavya skimmed it until she saw herself tagged. 

To say that she thought about it would be an understatement. Kavya had no clue for how long she sat there thinking about the road trip before the notification of the email brought her back. She slapped her face a few times to prepare herself for all the work she had to finish.

The entirety of the next 4 hours was spent in Kavya carefully noting down every single detail and making the necessary changes. And soon enough it was 3 am and she was finally done with both the cover design and the character designs. Throughout these 4 hours, however, the only thing on her mind was that road trip idea her friends were talking about.

So she made up her mind. Kavya quickly emailed the corrections she'd made in both the documents. And dialled Maya's number.

"Heyy, Maya? Remember that vacation you were talking about? I'm going to take it."

[jzixuans]

Hey, I've been feeling down recently and was wondering if you had any Logince headcannons. Platonic or romantic work, whichever you feel more comfortable with. Sorry if I'm bothering you.

aw lad don’t worry about bothering me i’m glad to share some headcanons ! i hope you feel better soon!

now, might i interest you in some childhood friends-to-enemies-to-friends-to-lovers logince? [PREPARE FOR A LONG ASS BULLET FIC I’M SO SORRY (google docs says it’s 4.2k words oh my god)]

they’ve known each other since the first grade because oh my god they were neighbours

they were the kind of childhood friends that were aware of each other’s presence and they hung out a little on the playground and worked on group projects but they didn’t really click

there WERE occasions tho where their parents would sit them down together for play dates bc one or more of said parents were Occupied with Important Adult Stuff

and since this was way back when they were wee lil smols, they were hyperactive lil children

so they played lots of adventure games, lots of role-playing, play fighting, that kind of stuff (twas often the dashing daring prince accompanied by his wise magickal advisor)

okay, so maybe they did click, but only a little (so they say)

they liked most of the same stuff, reading, learning, doing stuff with all that knowledge in those big brains of theirs, and that was pretty much the base of their close-but-not-that-close-friendship

and then they got older, and as all kids do, they started prioritizing different things

logan still loved learning and applying that knowledge, but it was more of a ‘learn and apply what knowledge can make you really successful’ and that was how he found his love of science

for roman, it was more of a ‘take what you’ve learned and use it to create your own path to success’ because he planned to go into music and theatre

as a result of this, both boys were exceptional students, except logan cared maybe a little too much about the academics and roman not enough

as the years went by, logan threw himself into studying, making schedules and routines so that he could make sure he knows what he needs to know and maybe a little bit more on the side, who cares if he lost an hour of two of sleep?

roman just learned to go with the flow, so he took everything in stride, took in what he needed, left the rest, and focused on his art instead, even if he’s started to grow an unhealthy apathy to school

and maybe logan falls just short of perfect on his tests, and he looks over and roman has glowing one hundreds in red ink on his

logan looks back down at his and the teacher has written ‘Think outside the box!’

meanwhile logan answers every question in class with scary accuracy, beaming with pride whenever the teacher praises him, and after school that same day roman gets pulled aside with an ‘I know you’re smart, so why don’t you want to put in the work?’

of course logan’s parents wonder why his grades don’t match his progress work, and roman’s parents wonder how he can spend all his time singing and dancing and still come out with high nineties (“is he cheating?”)

and the two have been drifting apart enough as it was, but now they kind of hate each other because ‘why can’t i just be more like him?’

logan starts hating roman because ‘he doesn’t even CARE, how is he doing better than me?’ (part of him misses the days when roman cared so much about anything and everything)

roman starts hating logan because ‘he’s so stiff and condescending, why can’t he just be happy for me?’ (and part of him misses when logan would so willingly stand by his side as his faithful warlock advisor)

so naturally, competition just kind of,,,, grows between them, until they’re constantly at each other’s throats and everyone else watching the shitshow go down has absolutely no idea where the hell all this animosity came from

at this point logan has a new friend in virgil fray and roman has befriended patton hart (virgil and patton know not to bring up the boys’ ‘rivalry’)

of course, being neighbours, they can’t exactly escape each other, and their rooms are adjacent to each other’s (they used to just lean out their windows and talk side by side, but they haven’t in yEARS)

so it’s nearing summer, and it’s hot out so roman’s working on his homework with the window open when he hears this cry of frustration, the angry pushing back of a chair, and the throwing open of the door

his first thought is one of smug satisfaction knowing that logan is dealing with school worse than he is, but then a flash of black catches his eye underneath his window

he makes it to the window just in time to see logan hop the fence in his backyard, and that only means one thing: he’s going to the old park behind their houses

neither of them have touched that park in ages

roman is Intrigued™, so he caps his pen, turns off his lamp and tells his parents he’s going for a walk before dashing out the back door

when he gets to the park, logan’s somehow managed to climb on top of the roof of the play structure

and roman ain’t slick so he just stands at the bottom and yells up to him

and logan is Lost In Thought so he nearly falls off (lbr roman thought it was funny)

“what are you doing here?”

“well excuse me, suck-rates, i happened to notice that you weren’t doing too hot and wanted to see if you were okay.”

“like you’ve ever cared.”

“woah there, is blink 180-ew rubbing off on you?” 

“lay off of him.”

“alright, alright, fine. forgive me for checking in on you.”

“you have a horrible way of showing people that you care, then.”

“well you have a horrible way of being a good friend.”

it just kind of,,,, slipped out, and now both boys are Oh Shit

but both boys are also not the type to back down from their feelings so they kind of have the Silent Stare-Off of Stubborness

roman decides to be the bigger person (bc any chance to one-up logan) and cave first 

“so uh, what’s been bothering you?” (psh you thought he was gonna apologize first? not yet fam)

logan rolls his eyes bc this asshole amirite, but he wants to vent and this is probably his best opportunity to tell roman what’s really been bugging him

“i don’t know how you manage to do it.” 

“do what?”

“do so well in school! you don’t even try!” and damn dude that one stings because he sounds exactly like his parents and every other teacher

“so you’re angry because you’re jealous that i’m better than you at everything.”

“that’s not what i meant and you know it.”

“i’ll have you know that i do try.”

“but you don’t care.”

“about school.”

“what?”

“i mean yeah, sure, i don’t care about school that much because i don’t really need it to go into music or theatre, but i still do my work.”

“but―”

“don’t you dare say anything about my grades because you know damn well that you’re smarter than me.”

“am not―”

“besides, weren’t you the one that told me in the fifth grade that ‘grades don’t mean shit’? my my, what a foul mouth for ten-year-old logan crane.”

“shut up.”

“nah.”

and by now logan’s decided that roman’s probably not going to rip his head off so he climbs down to stand beside him

and maybe the sun is setting bc i’m a classy romantic

and they’re having a Soft Quiet Moment

“…please don’t tell me that school was the only reason why u hated me.”

“… why did you hate me?” smh lo you’ve got to stop deflecting

“…”

“are you kidding me.”

“YOU STARTED IT”

“what no you did shut up”

and wOw now it’s awkward so 

“oh would you look at that, it’s getting late, my parents are gonna think that i’m slacking again, better go. good talk let’s do this again sometime okay byee” and whoop roman just zooms off

and logan realizes that maybe roman’s life isn’t as perfect as he makes it out to be

but too late roman’s gone and he doesn’t want to look like he’s following him so he waits a good half hour before trekking back home

logan doesn’t finish his homework that night because he’s too busy rethinking the past many many years

the next day, he’s frantically trying to cram his work in during his lunch period

virgil takes one look at him and he says “dude, are you okay?”

“no”

“cool, let me know if i can do anything to help.” and maybe it’s a cold answer but logan and virgil are cold edgy people so that’s just how they do

after like twenty minutes virgil takes out his earbuds like “you haven’t complained or sent one angry glare in roman’s direction what the fuck is up kyle”

“i’m just…. stressed.”

virgil, externally: “yeah of course i feel u dude.”

virgil, internally: “i’ve seen you start a project at 3am the morning it was due without breaking a sweat but go off i guess.”

skip to later that night, logan finished his shit (he needed a distraction from the Roman Crisis) so he leans out his window for some Fresh Summer Night Air

and oho would you look at that roman had that sa m e  i d ea

but it’s one of those clear nights where you can actually see the stars and logan just got roman off his mind so he’s a lil distracted

but of course roman notices and now that they’ve gotten some of their ‘rivalry’ out of the way, he remembers how much logan loved to drag him out to the park as late as they were allowed to stay up to watch the stars, and logan looks so at peace here (he’s only really seen logan’s angry face recently)

roman wants to say something, because part of him really wants to make up with logan

but before he can work up the courage he’s interrupted by his mom calling him

“roman! are you done all your work?”

“yeah, mom! almost!”

“you better be going to sleep early tonight!”

and roman is about to duck back inside before he gets yelled at even more but oh no too late logan’s already noticed and now he’s staring at him

“uh, hey.”

“hi.”

“are you, uh, are you feeling better?”

“for the most part, yes.”

“that’s good. look, uh, i gotta go, but i’ll see you at school?”

“oh, right, yes. good night, roman.”

“night, lo.”

roman falls back into his room with a crash because ‘oh my god why was that more nerve-wracking than any performance i’ve ever done?”

logan sinks back against his wall with a sigh because ‘is roman avoiding me now?’

the next day at school the two actually say hi to each other in the hallway and it’s like the entire world stops moving. students are staring and whispering, virgil and patton exchange looks, and logan and roman only just now realize how big their rivalry had gotten

the two lock eyes and burst into laughter because something as simple as a passing greeting in the hallway has turned the school on its head

and the rest of the school has absolutely no idea what just happened when the two part ways, virgil and patton trailing behind them, dumbfounded

they catch each other on the way home, though they walk in silence

that night, they’re back at their windows, side by side once more, and they exchange small talk

a couple weeks later, exams are coming up around the corner and both boys are stressed out of their minds

logan’s still working well past midnight when he hears the old creak of roman’s window opening

“i see your lamp. are you still up?” he hears roman whisper, and maybe it’s the late hour, but his voice is hoarse and wobbly, and logan is most certainly not used to hearing that

“that’s a ridiculous question, of course i’m still up,” logan replies, still not looking up from his computer because his history final project is due in two days

except roman doesn’t reply, and all he can hear from his direction is shaky laughter, and then a wet sniff

“of course i’m ridiculous. it’s not like i’m smart or anything.”

“what?”

“if i were smart i wouldn’t’ve procrastinated this english paper and i could probably be getting some sleep right now,” roman continues like he forgot that logan was there

“roman―“

“and sure, i can do other stuff, but it’s not like it matters or anything, not to my mom, or mr. schmitt, or you―”

“roman!”

roman’s babbling stops and logan worries that he’s scared him off until he looks up and sees roman leaning halfway out his window and now logan’s worried that roman’s going to fall out and break his neck on his patio

roman’s eyes are red and his nose is rubbed raw from crying. his usually-perfectly-coiffed hair is messy and greasy from running his hands through it, his clothes are rumpled, and his grip on the windowsill is trembling

yet he’s still half out the window, eyes comically wide, and logan can’t help but shake his head at how big a dork he is

“i’m sorry.”

roman’s so startled that his elbows buckle and he barely manages to land back in his room so he doesn’t fall (didn’t expect logan to apologize first, didya?)

he’s barely back out the window when logan starts talking again

“i shouldn’t have dismissed you so quickly. you are intelligent and you are capable and you absolutely didn’t deserve any of my anger or bitterness or hatred. for that, i’m sorry.”

roman is, SHOCKED, to say the least. when they were kids, usually it was roman who apologized first, if at all, logan only after being prompted to by parents or teachers (which might’ve contributed to their drifting apart)

“i’m― thank you.” 

there’s a pause because it’s late and logan is really really bad at this

“i’m sorry, too. i only really hated you because everyone kept comparing us. that wasn’t really fair of me.”

“i guess not.”

“so i guess we both agree that we’re both assholes.”

“essentially.”

“cool.”

“what were you going to talk to me about?” and roman has an ‘oh yeah’ because he completely forgot what he came out here for

“i guess i just missed doing this.”

“i did too.”

and they’re not completely in the clear, because they have years of hurt to clean up, but in that moment, they just sit and talk, and maybe missing one assignment amongst a whole year of perfect grades won’t hurt

they’re butts tired in the morning but neither of them regret it, regardless of virgil and patton’s comments of ‘how much sleep did you get last night? you look like you’re about to pass out.’

that weekend, their finals are all handed in, exams don’t start until the next week, and they’re both sick and tired of studying so logan invites roman over and they lounge in his star-speckled room, talking about everything and nothing

roman’s busy going through logan’s stuff (“what? i haven’t been in here since the summer before the seventh grade”) so logan has a free minute to just,, watch him, and he just now realizes how much he missed having this ball of energy in his life (in a positive way)

after that day, the tension between them is almost gone and conversations are so much easier (virgil and patton get to sigh in relief because ‘thank god, i love them, but they needed to get their shit together’)

but alas, exams approach and roman calls logan late one night, in tears and stressed beyond relief, begging him to meet him at the park (he would’ve called patton, but patton’s never really been under forced academic pressure, and logan’s just a smidge more familiar for him)

logan’s out of the house without another thought, and he sees roman sitting up on the monkey bars with his knees tucked up to his chest (‘oh my god roman don’t you dare fucking fall’)

“i’m sorry, you were probably sleeping, but i just needed to get out of the house and―”

“please don’t apologize for reaching out. what― what’s wrong?”

“i just can’t! my mom’s been threatening to pull me out of music if i don’t do well on this exam because ‘math is more important than music’ but i don’t know anything! i’ve been scraping by pretty well on tests but i can’t fucking study and none of the information is sticking and―”

“roman, you’re hyperventilating. you need to breathe―”

“don’t tell me what to do!” roman regrets this Immediately because logan recoils his hand like he’s been burned. great, just another thing to feel Bad about. “i-i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

if this was a month or two ago, logan would’ve had a scathing remark about roman’s inability to control himself but now he just places his hand back on roman’s shoulder and taps gently with his finger

“you remember that school assembly from grade nine? the one about mental health?”

“yeah?”

“can you do that breathing exercise?”

“probably”

ten minutes later, roman’s cried himself out and he’s stopped hyperventilating but he can’t seem to stop his hands from shaking

logan has absolutely no idea what to do but he’s seen patton do it before with some of the younger kids so he holds his arms out (v awkwardly) and goes, “would you― would it be― would a hug help?”

this gets a lil laugh out of roman because he’s trying and that’s adorable so now he’s cry-laughing into logan’s shoulder

“your mother sounds an awful lot like your horrendous dragon witch. i suppose we must simply team up to defeat her.”

roman draws away so fast he bumps into logan’s chin

“OH MY GOD YOU REMEMBER THAT”

“like i could forget it”

“oh my god”

“i mean, i wanted to, but those were… fun times.”

“hell yeah they were.”

“when’s your exam? i can help you study, if you want.”

“in about seven hours.”

“…change of plans, you’re coming back with me, you’re going to sleep for six, wake up, get a cup of tea, and we’re going to do a brief review before school.”

“…okay.”

so they walk back to logan’s house (roman makes sure to tack a note to his bedroom door for his parents, he’ll face the consequences later), and they just, collapse into a pile of leggy boi on logan’s bed (they were too tired to argue about formalities)

logan wakes up with roman clinging to his chest and he very sorely misses that warm cuddly heat but Nope he is Determined™ to help roman get that bread

so he wakes roman up, plops his notes down in front of him and tells him to flip through it while he goes to make breakfast

roman is a jittery Mess all the way up to the exam, but logan promises that he’d be waiting in the cafeteria for him (it was his lunch period’s exam day so he a Free Boi) and he leaves roman with a “you are more capable than you know. you already have everything you need to succeed. and no matter what, you are valid.”

two hours later, roman comes out and he has Zero Confidence in his results, but logan greets him with a clap on the shoulder and the reassurance that “at least you’re done with this.”

they meet up with virgil and patton and go for lunch, and oho, perhaps this is the beginning of a New Squad

at the end of the week, on exam review day logan’s waiting out in the hallway to go to his next class to see his results when he sees roman sprinting down the hall with the biggest grin on his face

“i got an 84!!! thank you, you beautiful blessed nerd!!” because honestly? roman expected nothing more than a 52 so this was a very pleasant surprise, and now roman’s hugging logan so tight that logan swears he heard his elbow pop

the other students of the school are still processing because it was literally only been a little over a month since they started talking to each other again, and anyone out of the loop just got hella whiplash

(and if this burst of happiness and gratitude left a weird, bubbly feeling in logan’s stomach, well, he’ll just keep that to himself)

the next few summer days are spent hanging out, in their rooms, at their windows, at the park, and sometimes, virgil and patton join them

sometimes they’re in roman’s room, roman typing away on his computer with a dozen open notebooks scattered around him while logan lays on his bed, and the two bounce ideas back and forth for the next adventures of the daring prince c and his faithful advisor logos

and then they’re two weeks into the summer break, virgil’s off visiting family in china for the next few weeks and patton’s in the caribbean, so they’re just aimlessly tossing a ball back and forth in roman’s room while they talk about their futures and stuff because “oh my god they’re gonna be high school  s e n i o r s  in the fall“ ((‘gee, blink, don’t u think that’s a lot of drama for 16 y/os?’ yes absolutely, shut up))

roman chucks the ball at logan, who catches it in one hand and he’s smirking and roman has to take a moment to catch his breath because ‘why was that so hot omg’

over the next couple weeks the two are basically joined at the hip, and when they’re not hanging out, they’re texting or calling each other and it finally feels like they’re really making up for lost time

at the same time, they may or may not be falling for each other and they have no idea what to do with these Feelings™ 

logan doesn’t know how to what to do because virgil is v aro and the only other person he can talk to is roman, whOM HE HAS A CRUSH ON

meanwhile roman is v frantically texting patton like bro pls call me as soon as u get back there’s a cute boy hELP

it’s nearing the beginning of august when the two go into town to get food and ice cream and they’re laughing and joking and waving melted strawberry ice cream in each other’s faces and they’re sitting on a bench when they lean in real close mid laugh and ‘oh no his face is rIGHT THERE’

they draw away real quick but both of them realize that ‘that wasn’t horrible?’ and they slowly look back at each other and ‘oh.’

“is this―”

“um―”

“is this― i mean if you want it to be ―  is this a date?” and roman holds his breath because ‘dear god, please say yes’

“i’d like it to be, yes.” logan is terrified because he does  n o t  want to fuck this up

except now roman has the biggest grin and he absolutely does not care that he’s got ice cream dripping onto his leg

roman tackles logan into a hug because ‘he’s on a date with logan fucking crane’

logan is thrilled because now he gets to keep this excitable ball of energy who’s made him smile and laugh more in the past couple months than he has in years

(no diss against virgil and patton, but they can’t relate to logan and roman as well as, well, logan and roman)

they both have ice cream on themselves but neither can be bothered to care at this moment because they’re so damn happy

even after they go home that night, they stay up real late at their windows, side by side, just appreciating the company

it’s the next day, and they’re at the park, the sun is setting ((listen,,,, it’s an aesthetic)) and they’re sitting on the swings, holding hands ((they’re in love, babey!!))

“are we… does this make us boyfriends now?” logan is a v technical, official terminology person, of course he’d be the one to ask

“if you want to be boyfriends.”

“i don’t think i’d be asking if i didn’t.”

“then yeah, yeah we’re boyfriends.”

logan walks back into his house with a giant smile, and he plays that event over and over and over again in his mind as he lies awake in bed that night

roman calls patton immediately

and they may or may not scream about it together

logan sends virgil a short text that goes along the lines of ‘roman and i are dating now’ but in real life he’s so giddy that his fingers shake as he types it out

they have their first kiss in roman’s bedroom a couple days later

when school rolls back around in the fall, they walk through the doors hand in hand

and now their rivalry is nothing but a legend that the seniors tell the freshmen whenever someone complains about ‘that one couple that keeps making out in the math wing stairwell, excuse me, i just want to get to class’

[existing-on-cloral]

Brooklyn's Night Terrors

A Steve Rogers X Reader fanfiction

The pretty scientist working to eradicate a vigilante villain catches the eye of the former Captain America. He jumps back into the time machine, becoming young again in order to live out a new life with his best friends, and perhaps her.

Paradise has a price, however.

The tracked vigilante kidnaps Sam Wilson and leaves the shield for Steve to take up one last time. Reluctantly, Steve takes on the mantle of Captain America once more as he teams up with his old pal Bucky Barnes and the beautiful and deadly smart scientist.

"Lust can cloud the mind, but love makes it clear as day."

Chapter Two: All's Fair

After a discovery about the dangerous villain, you ask Sam out for coffee. Meanwhile, Steve and Bucky talk women to "help Bucky remember the 40s better".

"Well, you're starting the day off with a bang," Sharon greeted you as she entered the lab.

You waved the smoke off of the communicator you'd been trying to fix. "I pulled the wrong wire. Didn't expect for it to blow up in my face."

Sharon shrugged. "Just saying. Did you get the news?"

Still focused on waving away smoke, you shook your head. "Don't have time for much of anything anymore, with that villain woman taking over not only New York, but my schedule as well."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Sharon said, dropping a newspaper on the table. You picked it up and scanned the front page. A disturbing picture filled the top half, showing several dead bodies and a figure dressed in deep blue, a mask covering her face. The headline screamed, "Newest Villain Tormenting New York", and underneath the picture was the caption, "Photo courtesy of Peter B. Parker".

"The kid got a photo job for the Daily Bugle," you noted. "Thought that Jameson guy exposed him?"

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Where better to hide than right in plain sight? At least, that's what Parker seems to think." She opened the paper to the big story. "Anyway, this woman killed three men and four women that were stumbling out of a club, drunk. Left her usual message." Another picture advertised the trademark of the villain, six dots surrounding a skull's head. For the first time, you realized how familiar the symbol seemed.

"Agent Carter, get Mr. Rogers down here as fast as you can," you barked, sending Sharon sprinting from the room. You picked up the phone and made a quick call to Director Fury, which he surprisingly ignored.

Still, you were unperturbed and waited for the voicemail beep. Once it sounded, you began rambling. "Director Fury, I've found something on the new villain." You flipped through the story, noting that the reporter was taking the six dots to heart and referring to her as "the Blue Reaper". "They're calling her the Blue Reaper, but that's- that's everything to do with her symbol. And the symbol is everything. Director..." you trailed off as Captain Rogers- Steve- ran into the room. "It may be a coincidence, and Mr. Rogers just arrived to clarify-" you gave Steve a quick look and pointed to the symbol- "Her symbol looks very similar to that of HYDRA. She could be working for a new branch or something."

"Cut off one head, two more grow back," Steve muttered, tracing his fingers over the blue spray paint in the picture.

"Director Fury, please give me a call back soon, I'd like to discuss this further. Thank you." You hung up, still not entirely confident in the former director of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Steve picked up the paper and stared at the symbol, trying to make sense of it. "I don't understand. I thought HYDRA was done and gone for good."

You exhaled sharply and slammed a hand on the table, which caused the already smoking communicator to completely blow itself up. "Dammit!" Now the stupid thing was most definitely beyond repair.

"I think you need a stress break," Steve suggested. "Take an hour or two, I'll analyze this and the article and get back to you."

Nodding, you picked up your bag and headed for the door. Steve was being so generous... then a thought came to mind.

"Steve."

He turned around, giving you his full attention, something the other workers and scientists barely ever achieved.

"Could you look at past articles? That might help your search as well."

Steve smiled. "It would be my pleasure. Go. Take some time."

You turned and stalked out the door, ready to run off to the nearest coffee shop and chug as many espressos as you could without achieving spontaneous combustion (like your communicator). As you were nearing the entrance to the building, however, you remembered your promise to Sharon. Luckily, Sam was in the lobby, bringing in some paperwork.

"Hey, Sam!" you called out. "Do you have some time to grab coffee?"

Sam dropped the paperwork at the front desk and grinned. "I absolutely have time for coffee! Especially for my favorite doctor." He offered you his arm cheekily, but even with his bad humor, you giggled and took it.

"Thank you. I stumbled upon something major in an article and Steve suggested I take some time to process it." You pushed open the door before Sam could get it for you, but to your surprise he looked genuinely disappointed. "In any case, I don't want to talk about vigilantes, or the Blue Reaper, or skulls, or HYDRA. I'd like to get to know you, as Sam, not Captain America."

"I'd love that!" Sam returned, giving you a bright smile. "I know this great coffee house that's within walking distance from here. The coffee is really excellent and cheap, too!"

You allowed Sam to lead you to the little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, where a sign over the door read, "The Falcon's Nest". Chuckling, you elbowed Sam. "Sure it's just for the cheap coffee? Or is there an ulterior motive?"

Sam shrugged. "I knew the owner back in my military days. He opened a coffee shop and after I became the Falcon, he changed the name to commemorate me."

"That's nice of him," you said, pulling open the door for Sam. He snapped his fingers and made a pretend angry face at you.

"One of these days, I'll show you chivalry isn't dead!" he vowed, propping the door open with his hand and refusing to let go until you walked inside. You did, smiling to yourself at Sam's cute antics.

Sam ordered for the two of you, insisting on paying for your drink. The barista recognized Sam immediately and gave him an over-the-counter hug, then asked, "Who's this lovely lady?"

With pride in his voice, Sam introduced you, tacking on, "My favorite doctor," before grabbing the drinks and making a beeline for a table.

"What was that all about?" you asked, taking your drink from Sam.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "That's my buddy. Ever since he got his leg blown off he jokes that it's his best way to pick up girls. I knew he'd start flirting with you, and to be honest, I wanted to talk to you before other men started making passes or anything."

A warm feeling bubbled up in your chest and you giggled. "That's sweet, Sam."

Sam grabbed your hand, pulling your arm a tiny bit so you leaned forward and across the table. "Don't tell me I'm the only one feeling this."

You shook your head. "You're not."

He relaxed, letting go of your hand. "I just thought that you'd prefer one of the others. A real Avenger, even."

"Are you kidding?" you scoffed. "Bucky's flirty, Bruce is a little too big, Thor is off who-knows-where, Parker is way too young for me, and Steve..." you trailed off, unable to come up with a good reason to prefer Sam over Steve. Mentally kicking yourself, you joked, "I'm not on the Carter family tree."

Sam laughed. "I'm glad, I suppose." He fell silent, staring down at the whipped cream in his latte. "Thanks for asking me to coffee," he finally said.

You took your own drink and held it out in a toast. "It was my pleasure, Sam. To this... whatever... that I feel for Sam Wilson!"

He clunked his own cup against yours, laughing. "To this... whatever I feel for my sweet doctor."

  "Women!" Bucky said, writing the word in big letters on the top of a college-professor-sized whiteboard. "Any questions so far? Don't worry, you'll have some."

Steve, sitting in the back of the room so Bucky would be forced to yell, returned, "I just want to know about one woman, you jackass!"

"Shut up, punk, school's in session," Bucky shot back, threatening Steve with an Expo marker. "As I was saying." He drew a line underneath the word women. "They are fickle creatures, sharing their love- otherwise known as THE FUCK-" "Language." "-with whoever they feel has big dick energy."

"Two things." Steve raised his hand. "One, it's whomever."

Bucky threw the Expo marker with amazing accuracy. It thonked Steve in the forehead and dropped onto his paper, leaving a big blue mark. "I'm an expert on women, not grammar. Let me teach."

"Second thing," Steve pressed on, "Big dick energy?"

"Yeah!" Bucky seemed far too enthusiastic for someone who was casually throwing around the word dick as if he was talking about a renowned actor or a king of England. "Peter taught it to me. It means you exude manliness and you're very masculine, or whatever. Anyway."

Steve groaned. When he had asked Bucky to teach him about how women worked and how you could ask one out, he had not expected a crash course in Bucky's idiocy from the forties. He swore up and down that he was still trying to help Bucky "remember his past" but he just wanted to work on his own future.

"To ask one out, make sure the timing is good." Bucky wrote timing underneath the big line. "If you ask a woman out at the wrong time, such as when you has just crashed her father's very expensive new car, you will get slapped, rejected, and possibly kicked in the balls."

Steve recalled the day Bucky had crashed his date's father's car on the way to a fair and burst out laughing. Another marker smacked into his chest. At least the lesson was helping Bucky too.

"The second thing is how you ask her out." Bucky wrote method. He turned to Steve, face completely serious. "Do not ask out a woman by singing your own rendition of 'The Star-Spangled Banner' off key in front of her entire friend group. You will get laughed at, and possibly kicked in the balls."

"Hurry up, Barney Stinson, I have a woman I would love to ask out and I'd really like to know how," Steve griped, throwing the markers back at Bucky. Amazingly, one of them hit Bucky. Steve smirked, a little proud of himself.

Unfortunately, it had hit Bucky's metal arm, so he just picked it up and shot Steve a glare. "I understood that reference, and also, don't throw markers. It's disrespectful. Now, if you want to ask this wonderful-sounding lady out, just walk up to her and say- not scream- the words 'Hey, would you like to go out for ice cream sometime?' Works every time, because you're not implying that it's a date in any way." Bucky folded his arms and gave Steve a smug smile. At least he would have if Steve was still sitting in the back of the room. "Steve?"

The Steve in question was running down the hallway of S.P.E.C.I.A.L. headquarters, looking for the scientist that he couldn't get out of his mind. When he reached the lobby, he spotted Sharon and grabbed her arm. "Sharon, where's the doctor you came to look at the time machine with?"

Sharon gave him a Look. "We have more pressing things to worry about, Steve."

"Like what?" Steve asked. "Other than, you know, the Reaper terrorizing New York City."

"That's the problem," Sharon pulled a note from her pocked. "Our doctor just got back from a coffee date with Sam." Steve's heart sank, but he reminded himself that, technically, he'd been the one to tell you to get coffee. Sharon continued talking, slowly drawing a piece of paper out of her pocket. "But Sam didn't return with her. According to her, the Reaper kidnapped him and left her this note."

Steve grabbed the piece of paper, unfolding it until he could read the words written in blood-red ink. So much for Captain America.

His eyes narrowed, his lips pursed, and he threw the note to the ground. Steve looked up as his doctor ran in, looking so scared and yet so dangerously beautiful. "I need my shield," he said, locking eyes with her.

[theparanormalperiodical]

The Thornton Heath Poltergeist - The Most Haunted Places In The World That You NEED To Hear About #2

January.

A time of self doubt as you take on the latest fad diet. A time of personal struggle as you return to the 9-to-5 and question why in the hell you decided to work in this goddamn office. And a time of thirst as you realise Dry January does indeed include Echo Falls despite their Rosé being mostly sugar and aesthetic.

Is there any hope left in the world?

Oh, dear reader - you didn’t tap on this blog in the hope of reading some article about a cheerful, positive topic like little rabbits with big flopsy ears, did you?

You’re here for the dead. And the demonic. And all manner of terrible things. 

Goodbye, Patches - hello, Poltergeist.

Today, we are going to be discussing one of the most iconic paranormal cases from the UK that no one has ever heard of: the Thornton Heath Poltergeist. 

But it turns out that there’s not just one poltergeist in Thornton Heath. 

Oh, no. 

There’s two. 

And these two pesky spirits are far from alone:

Croydon might not sound like the setting for the next cult horror hit, but this London borough is actually known for its rather macabre history - and the legacy of its dark past.

Whilst your chowing down on a Gregg’s sausage roll you might hear rumours of one of Elizabeth I’s maids-in-waiting traipsing around a school, and perhaps you’ll even see a few children who were killed during the war skip past the local Chicken Cottage.

On top of that - like most areas of London - Croydon is actually a relatively ancient town, with the first settlements appearing in the 6th century. 

This place clearly has a lot of paranormal promise.

However, despite setting the scene for 2 key cases of poltergeist activity, though do appear to be unconnected. Nevertheless, together they provide a lot of insight into a specific form of supernatural activity that tends to get forgotten.

This is especially true since poltergeists have dominated the horror genre for many a year, inspiring iconic films such as Poltergeist (1982), and litter stories which involve any trace paranormal activity.

The thing is, although frequently mentioned, the actual concept of poltergeists is kind of ignored, particularly the debate surrounding them. These 2 cases, however, provide an overview of the different approaches to poltergeist activity:

One case looks into debunking the paranormal, whereas the other presents the typical haunted house case you clicked to see. 

So, today’s article is going to take us through the 2 poltergeists of Thornton Heath, and the paranormal theory behind poltergeists. 

Strap in folks, and let’s get spooky.

First, What Actually Is A Poltergeist?

Anyone speak German?

Poltergeist is a mashup of two German words, and it literally means “noisy spirit”.

Based on that translation, it is a type of spirit who has a thing for physical disturbances. Loud noises, objects moving, biting and pinching are the common symptoms of such a haunting. And despite sounding pretty minimal - well, maybe not the biting and the pinching - such poltergeist activity often represents the first traces of far greater hauntings. 

But unlike most paranormal theories, it turns out that poltergeist activity is pretty well investigated (as this post will demonstrate). 

Heck, poltergeist activity has been reported since the 1st century!

It is claimed that it lasts typically around 5 months, but some say it can stretch out to several years.

On top of our knowledge of the duration of such activity, poltergeists allegedly haunt people, not places - a bit like demons. This does contrast with the 1972 haunting, but we all know that supernatural theories lack the accuracy we expect of an exact science.

And so we come back to the debates and the debunking which always ends up stalking the supernatural. It’s for that reason that Poltergeists are such a valuable component of spiritualist theory because of the intense debate and study surrounding them, as the 1938 case will show. 

Indeed, the first of the scientific theories debunking poltergeists swap the paranormal for the patriarchy.

It's called the Naughty Little Girl theory.

Obviously, it suggests that young girls create activity to get attention because women can’t breathe without doing it for attention, right? The Conjuring 2 is one of the few films that picks up on this concept, showing its use by the media as it was utilised in the real life case.

A less misogynistic theory instead claims that the paranormal activity could be down to seismic activity or water stress, creating noises and physical disturbances often blamed on poltergeists.

Or, it could all come back to the theory of psychokinesis:

It claims that when we are stressed, our fucked-up brains can have a physical impact on the objects around us, making it look - and feel - like we are living in a perpetual Paranormal Activity film. 

Well, that or a rom-com; it turns out the poltergeist was really within us the whole time...

The 1972 Case - The Official Thornton Heath Poltergeist 

Welcome to the the era of the occult - the 1970s. 

The obsession with the paranormal experienced a revival in the late 20th century thanks to the affectionately named Satanic Panic and the rise of hippie-dom. And because so many reports of the paranormal crop up in this era, we have to be wary – blaming shit on the paranormal was nearly as common as institutionalised racism, ensuring that claims were often amped up by fear.

Got your pinch of salt to hand? Good. 

Our story begins in the heat of summer - it’s August 1972. 

A family are fast asleep after, well, I don’t know, what did people do in the 1970s? Listen to too much ABBA? 

Anyway - their peaceful slumber is interrupted in the middle of the night when a radio switches on all by itself and blasts out full-volume-raise-the-roof level musings from a foreign radio station.

This is where the activity begins. 

The following nights, lights turn on and off by themselves, mirroring the first hour of a Paranormal Activity film before Katie makes some off the cuff comment about being besties with a demon during puberty. 

Yet despite the suggestions of something supernatural, it suddenly just chills the fuck out. 

Well, that is until the most wonderful time of the year! Only for this famalam, this are about to get a little less wonderful, and a little more what the fuck. 

Probably in the midst of an ABBA jam-sesh, a small antique figurine is plucked off a shelf by an invisible hand, and flung across the room, hitting the patriarch of the family with such a force that it knocks him to the floor. 

If that wasn’t enough for one day, the Christmas tree then joins in the freaky festivities, and starts shaking.

And that only just scratches the surface of the supernatural events soon to haunt this family.

Cut to a few days later, and its New Year Eve.

Ok, right, let’s be honest here: any activity reported was at times when there would have been a couple of bevvies, a few late nights among friends and family… 

Who hasn’t seen a demon picking cashews out of the mixed nuts bowel when they’re a third of the way through that bottle of Echo Falls?

Regardless of my suspicions, they supposedly started to hear loud footsteps upstairs, and during that very night, a member of the family awoke to see a very tall and very angry man staring at him, giving off very threatening vibes.

But it wasn’t just the son of the family that saw these mysterious goings on.

Some visitors to the house reported similar activity:

At a dinner party (*sigh*) a door began to violently shake, nearly coming off its hinges. The living room door then followed suit, and swung open. Every single light in the house then began to follow the trend and turned on and off.

No matter how many bottles they were deep by then, there’s no doubt that shizz was getting weird. 

In response to this shizz getting weird, the family did the right thing: they called themselves a priest, and got him to check the shizz out. 

However, as a result of his holy presence, the activity worsened. A medium shortly followed, and on his visit deduced that this was a farmer of Chatterton. A quick visit to the library and a rifle through the odd archive later, and the story is confirmed:

This was the spirit of a farmer from the 18th century, and as the medium claimed, he was angry that these trespassers were on his land. So, like all landlords, he kept his cool and was trying to treat these people with the fairness and respect that all landlords hold dear.

Nah, who are we kidding - instead of charging them £60 for not pulling a weed out from underneath the wheelie bin, he manifested as a poltergeist.

The escalation then, uh, escalated.

Following the appearance of the ghost patriarch, his wife then turned up and made a point of targeting the matriarch of the family. 

Despite the coincidence of most claims of boozy nights on the heath, these hauntings that mirror the heads of the household really support the case as it sticks to this line of opposition to the “intruders”.

The ghostly matriarch’s favoured haunting was following people up the stairs; when you turned around, you would see wisps of a grey bun and the outlines of a faint figure which would then vanish into thin air. 

But on top of the wife getting involved, the farmer himself made a commitment to being spooky AF.

Its for that reason that the creepiest haunting of the year award goes to the farmer. 

Why?

Because he would turn up on their TV. 

Like, I don’t know if he was on bloody Blue Peter à la IT, or if the screen would go blank and this bitch would rock up and just be there…

But just like fuck that, no thanks, congratulations, and just take the award ugh.

So, like anyone would, this family were like nope screw this, packed up shop, and moved the fuck outta there. After they moved out the activity ceased - like all hauntings tend to do, confirming that it could be due to their trespassing. 

Well, or that it was all faked but as the gullible young woman I am, I’m going to deny all traces of this family’s excessive drinking and say that the farmer did indeed turn up on Blue Peter and take a badge with him to the afterlife.

For privacy reasons, the actual address is unknown to the public for the obvious reason that innocent families don’t want some Jake Paul wannabe pulling up in a jacked up Ford Fiesta and whipping out a GoPro to make a quick buck on YouTube.

Heck, I don’t know if anyone lives there now! But this is still recognised by paranormal fanatics are one of the greatest hauntings to come out of the UK. 

Well, I say the greatest…

It has to compete with the Thornton Heath poltergeist of an odd 40 years before.

The 1938 Case - Thornton Heath Poltergeist 2: The Prequel No One Asked For

Now we turn to the former haunting of Thornton heath in 1938.

But this poltergeist isn’t set against the scene of some cosy pre-war family home, nor are any long dead farmers getting involved. 

This story, on the other hand, follows the scientific study of the paranormal, and to this day is an unsolved mystery that has left both investigator and individual alike without answers.

And it starts with this bloke called Nandor Fodor.

Fodor lead the argument that poltergeists are manifestations from the subconscious mind, and to prove his claims, he investigated the tales of terror that had been experienced by one woman in a small corner of Croydon.

He followed his scientific studies all the way to a little place called Thornton Heath. 

Sure, this case could have been linked to the Chatterton farmer, but the focus of their investigation was on the nature of paranormal beliefs, so there was no study of what spirit could be behind it. 

All we know regarding the haunting is that the victim of this poltergeist was a woman only known to us as Mrs. Forbes. She was studied at an institute, and in an attempt to be sure she wasn’t creating the hauntings, she basically had to get undressed in front of them, and wear special clothes to prove she wasn’t concealing anything. 

Nevertheless, the weird shizz we saw in the 1970s still seemed to follow her.

Dishes would float in mid-air and then crash to the floor, glasses would suddenly appear in her hand (*insert middle aged facebook meme with a minion in the background*), and objects from her home would appear at the institute.

Her house was 10 miles away from the institute. 

But beyond her possessions appearing out of thin air,  Mrs. Forbes frequently described different entities that would appear and attack her.

These beings included a vampire which would on occasion bite her neck - and left her with two physical wounds in her neck, and a tiger which reached out and scratched deep gashes in her arm. Just like the vampire’s supposed attack, these markings were also found on her body.

However, one of her claims went too far, and was used to challenge every single incident she claimed was caused by a poltergeist:

Alongside the vampire bite and the tiger’s scratches, Mrs. Forbes also had several burn marks scarring her neck. Seemingly coming out of nowhere, Forbes believed it was due to the spirit of a man strangling her with a necklace. 

However, shortly after making this statement, she professed a deep desire to kill this man. 

Fodor drew from this that she thought the man was inside of her, and thus she tried to kill him by choking herself. That’s the burn marks explained - what about everything else? All it took was a quick check of her body and clothing to find small items concealed under her left breast.

That’s right; she has conjured up this “poltergeist” out of thin air.  

Having connected the dots, Fodor deduced that she was both schizophrenic, and burdened by repressed sexual trauma. 

Another day, another hoax.

Unsurprisingly, faked activity vis-a-vis this case is pretty common when it comes to the paranormal, and this label is pinned by non-believers onto, well, basically anything we just so happen to report. 

And despite how frustrating this can seem, it is a necessary disturbance in our research of the supernatural. In fact, the original Thornton Heath story brings this into play when we discuss poltergeists, particularly as their basis centres on physical disturbances which can be both faked or misinterpreted.

Croydon might seem yet another area of London Prince Andrew would pull out of the hat to defend his reputation, but it instead represents a much wider discussion of the paranormal.

From the fake to the unknown, from the mysterious to the mentally unstable:

How we investigate the supernatural starts in a little place called Thornton Heath.

What do you think?

Did the family really witness poltergeist activity first hand?

Or was it all just conjured up by women that purely wanted attention i dont know about you but i just love attention oh gimme attention look I WANT ATTENTION NOWSUFH[HB’[Egb’???????!1//1/1/1!//????

Ahem.

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