#perplexing honestly i want to study these people so fucking bad

[phantomtrax]

Probably the funniest people on my "unfollowing people for posting You Know What" post is the ones calling me Weak? For some reason? Like, it's the rational and normal thing to see a thing you don't like and makes you mad pop up on your dash and just keep following the person that posts that? You're used to seeing unpleasant things on your dash? It "builds character"? Yeah? Character? You ever heard of having fun online? You just see shit that sucks on your dash and just bear it? Just keep going? Yeah? Not even gonna unfollow anyone at all? I really can't get into your mindset man. Please tell me what makes you behave this way

[access--granted]

I'm bad at thinking on the spot, but I have some firm faves, lol. (Disclaimer, I accidentally wrote you an encyclopaedia, sorry!)

1. Jill. REmake was my first game early this year and I played as her. It's what sucked me into fullblown brainrot lmfao. I've played most of the series now and for the most part, Jill has remained one of the most consistent and realistic female characters throughout the series (imo). I mean, I've never looked at my screen an thought "has the director ever seen her character before? What the hell is this?" Which in RE is a rare occurrence lmfao! She isn't super, overly sexualised and I honestly just thoroughly enjoy her personality and story. She knows who she is and what her goals are. Death Island absolutely solidified this for me. It made me feral, I stg. Her arc was phenomenal. I want a brand new Jill campaign. I need her as a main game character again soon. She's one of the best. SHE SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE WITH CHRIS KILLING WESKER INSTEAD OF SHEVA SOMEBODY HAS TO SAY IT. An original that holds her own. Just... *chefs kiss*.

2. Claire. Similar reasons to Jill. She has clear motivations and a good arc. Her campagin is my favourite part of RE2make and I think it's shamefully underrated. I found her realtionship with Sherry a lot more significant than Leons and honestly, her A playthrough was just... better? That's perisnal opinion though. I wish they'd let this woman buy a new outfit. She's worn the same jacket since '98. Recycling queen I guess, lmfao. I don't think people really give her enough attention or credit. She's incredibly kind and patient but could also beat me to a pulp. Phenomenal.

3. Chris. Okay, a few iffy portrayals but he's overall a very solid character. I like him so much because he's a "terrifying but actually very soft and huggable" trope in my mind, lmao. I can't shake the Awkward Father vibe, no matter how many 400lbs machine guns he plays around with. I just think he's very tired and wants to watch a football game with friends. Give him a break.

4. Ethan Winters. It's fucking Ethan Winters. Ethan and Rose were excellent new additions to the cast. I adored them. They were something different, refreshing, realistic (minus the lego man hands... dude's made of mold tho so...) and just very likeable. Dude just chills in the background at functions wanting to go home.

5. Leon. Leon's equally one of the most interesting but frustrating protagonists. I think his OG progression is a complete mess. There's some parts I love, some parts I think make zero sense. I always got the sense that they wanted to be ambitious with Leon, but didn't know what the audience would and wouldn't accept. Does this man have a personality? Yes, we'll hint at one, but we absolutely must adhere to naughts cringe hero stereotype just incase. He often leaves me perplexed, but I enjoy him. He's fun to nitpick and study (and make fun of!!!) and he arguably has one of the most interesting long-term stories. I think remakes are going harder to bring this to light. At it's core, the Leon story is about his relationship with corruption, the government and how he deals with it and who to trust. It could be... SOMETHING. I think we're getting there. The changes in remakes are making it more and more possible. They're taking risks and it greatly benefits him as a character overall. He makes sense. He's understandable.

(PS a lot of this sounds like nonsensical jumbled ass, I'm so sorry lmao. I did not sleep and I need pain meds today bc hashtag chronic pain. If this message is total dumbassery jibberish you have my deepest apologies!)

Ahhh, hi! I absolutely love a good old encyclopedia ask, don't you worry. (And you're probably gonna get a long ass answer too, lmao).

REmake Jill is my favourite Jill. Her kick ass determination and personality are just so good. She was my first ever example of a strong female character as a kid, and she's always been my absolute fave. Totally agree with you that DI sold her to me even more. She desperately needs a new campaign in a mainline game ASAP, I've missed her too damn much.

I feel like Claire has had most hate in the franchise (in my personal experience, at least), and honestly, I don't get the whole "Claire is so annoying" crap I've seen people say in the past. She has good motivation. A college student going to search for her S.T.A.R.S member brother when she doesn't hear from him, only to survive a hellish night amidst a viral outbreak and cure a child? So badass.

Chris is 100% awkward dad vibes despite his badassery and boulder punching skills, no doubt about it. He's more sensitive than people understand him to be. (Which literally makes no sense, considering how broken he is whenever someone he cares about doesn't make it, lol). Let this man live, put his feet up and relax.

Ethan, my guy. I fucking love him so much. I remember how so many people hated him, back when RE7 first came out. "Oh, but he's just some random guy who is looking for his missing wife. How boring." Uh, isn't that what makes him so much more interesting? He's not an agent, or a S.T.A.R.S member, or whatever like the others are. He's a man willing to go above and beyond to save someone he loves. He gets put through so much shit and still selflessly sacrifices himself. What a guy.

Leon is a hot mess (affectionately). Capcom wanted to do things with OG Leon, and they just didn't know how to go about it. He's definitely a fun one to pick apart and analyse. You're right, though. I definitely think they could really polish what kind of character they want him to be with future installments since they've already gotten him to a pretty decent place already. I've always loved him, but he sure has been a roller coaster ride, hahaha.

Honestly, I always love getting long asks like this, especially from mutuals I wanna talk more to. It's just a shame I'm such a socially awkward coward and can't initiate conversation myself. 😂 I had a lot of fun answering this, so thank you, and I really hope you can rest up soon!

[thiswasinevitableid]

for mermay, indruck, 5, sfw? poison could refer to a love potion of some kind, or maybe a blue-ringed octopus (or other poisonous sea creature) mer?

Here you go!

Even with his future sight warning him this would be awkward, Indrid twitches his tail nervously as Juno, the volunteer checking him in to the venom donor clinic, frowns at her intake form. 

“See, trouble is, because today’s a mer donor day, most of them give their donations from barbs. You’re gonna have to give from your fangs right?”

“Yes.” Maybe he should just cut his loses, come back on one of the Naga days, and hope no one tries to kill him.

“Volunteers gotta go through special training for milking fangs, so you may have to wait until one of them is available.”

“I do not mind waiting. I came to donate, and I have no urgent engagements. Is there somewhere I can be out of your way?”

Juno smiles, “We got some nice sunny rocks--hold that thought. Duck, you just get here?” She calls this to a human in khaki clothing. His black hair is streaked with grey--matching Indrid’s tail--and his smile is so bright Indrid wants to bask in it.

“Yep! Thacker got to the station a little early so I could clock out sooner. Seems like you got somethin’ I can help with.”

“Sure can. Duck, this is” she glances at the form, “Indrid. He’s a mer, but he needs to donate via fangs.”

“Roger that.” The man holds out his hand, “Nice to meet you, I’m Duck. It’s a nickname.”

Indrid shakes his hand, his visions having taught him this is the correct way to reciprocate the greeting. 

“How long can you be outta the water?”

“Quite some time.”

“Great, in that case we’ll just go to the normal milkin station rather than me luggin things down here. Right this way.”

Indrid slithers up the beach behind him, drawing perplexed stares from humans and distrustful ones from the other mers. Duck holds open the flap on a tall, tan tent and Indrid heads inside. 

“You ever given venom before?”

“No. I, I am only recently back in the area. When I heard about the program I knew I could be of help.”

“Sure can. Sea krait, right?” Duck gestures to the silver and black of his tail. 

“Yes” Indrid smiles; most people just say snake.

“You reptile cousins can really fuck a human up. And who knows, your venom might be one of the kinds they can engineer multiple anti-vemons from.”

“I would like that. I like humans, and wish to help you. It is not your fault so very many things can kill you.”

Duck raises an eyebrow, “what happens if a King Naga bites you? Or even another venomous mer?”

“....I die. Ah, I, ah, see your point.” He smiles, sheepish, “apologies, although I wish to help humans, most of them prefer to stay far away from me, and so my manners are not always what they should be.”

“No harm done. Here,” he steps up onto a short stool, holding out a half circle of plastic filled with strong, astringent liquid, “put this in your mouth and bring your fangs out; we learned we have to disinfect them right before we milk.”

“PHeelphhh” Indrid winces as the liquid stings his senses. 

“I know, it ain’t pleasant. Won’t be much longer.” The human stretches a thin sheet of rubber across a shallow circle, checks his watch, and then steps back onto the stool, “okay, when I say open, open your mouth wide so I can slide that one out and get this one in position. Don’t bite down until I say to.”

Indrid nods, opens his mouth when commanded. Even with the disinfectant in his noses, Duck’s scent is overwhelming from so close up; sweat, sunscreen, soap, and something woody that must be his deodorant. He bites down when Duck says, drops of venom pattering into the container. The human keeps one eye on the time, explaining that he doesn’t want Indrid to exhaust all his venom accidentally, thus rendering him vulnerable or unable to hunt. 

“Aaaand done, go ahead and put those fangs away.” Duck removes the collection jar, labels it and puts it in a fridge as Indrid stretches his jaw, tensed from giving such a prolonged injection bite. 

“Now, we always give donors a thank you; come pick what you like.” He swings open a second fridge. Indrid cocks his head, studying the packs of what he knows to be sushi and the different types of fruit. Flicking out his tongue, he scents something delicious, and picks up a bottle of pink liquid.

“I will have this Guava Juice.” He pops the cap and dips his tongue in for a taste, then for a second and a third. A charming noise enters the air, like a bird who long ago gave up on being dignified. Duck’s laughing. 

“Sorry, wasn’t expectin that to be so cute.”

Indrid blushes; that’s not a word generally applied to him. 

“Thank you for the juice. And for acomodating me.”

“Any time. Welcome to come back the next time we host a drive.” The human holds the door open for him, waves as he slithers down the sand, sipping his juice. 

------------------------------------------------

“Hello, Duck.”

Duck doesn’t even turn around before he replies, “Nice to see you back, Indrid.”

This marks the fourth venom donation day the mer has come to, and he always gets paired with Duck. Duck doesn’t mind one bit; Indrid might be alarming to look at, not the elegantly finned, otherwise humanoid creature most people expect a mer to be. His scales appear on his arms and shoulders, and there’s even a patch of them on the back of his neck. His eyes are blood red, his smile wide and a little alarming even without the fangs showing. He’s also sweet, in an odd way, and takes genuine interest in Duck’s wellbeing and daily life. 

Honestly, Duck wouldn’t chatting with him at a time when he isn’t jamming venom collection jars into his mouth. But asking to hang out with a patient is weird enough without the added difficulty of that patient needing to be in the water most of the time. 

They go through their usual routine, Indrid helping himself to a mango juice this time before waving goodbye. 

Two days later, Duck is checking on tree specimens when he senses red eyes on his back.

“You do not want to touch that trunk, there is a very large spider in that knot.”

“Indrid?”

“......no?”

“Just a prescient voice in the trees?”

“Yes. I am a very helpful tree.”

Duck turns in the direction of the river, one that feeds directly into the sea, “You know I ain’t gonna be mad if you wanna talk, right?”

“Of course, it was merely an attempt at a goof.” Indrid comes into view, peeking out from the bushes on the shoreline, “I was curious about your work and wanted to see you in action.”

“Afraid there ain’t much of that. What you’ve seen is kinda the gist of what I do.”

“I find it fascinating all the same. May I continue watching?”

Duck smiles, “Sure.”

Indrid turns out to be excellent company, in that he’s quiet for large stretches of time only to ask Duck about the exact thing he wants to talk about. It’s not until Duck is wrapping up and readying to head inland to the ranger station that Indrid asks an entirely new kind of question.

“You are a long way from home, aren’t you?”

He nods, “Spent decades in my home town, feelin like I couldn’t leave, like I had a responsibility to stay. When the chance to work out here, to try to preserve this fuckin amazin ecosystem, popped up, I decided it was time for a change of scene.”

He shivers as Indrid’s tail pets his ankle and the mer sighs, “I am glad you did.”

---------------------------------------------------------------

Indrid becomes a regular work companion after that. Sometimes he arrives with helpful information, like which paths might have tourists in need of assistance or where Duck can find the specimen he’s looking for, other times he comes just to talk or listen. These days, Duck finds himself hoping for the glimpse of silver and black in the water that announces his friend’s presence, and enjoying the appreciative looks he spies Indrid giving him when he thinks his back is turned. 

So when something slithers in the bushes behind him, he simply calls out, “What’d you think of those cookies Juno brought in yesterday?”

“I do not know of what you speak, human.”

He whirls, finds a King Naga staring him down. This is probably bad, probably the reason rangers are required to carry a machete or hatchet, but he doesn’t want to be wrong and hurt someone just because they startled him.

“Can I, uh, help you with anythin, sir?”

“Yesss, you can. Be a nice human and stay where you are. I hate having to chasssse my food.”

“Uh” he steps backwards, keeping one eye on the fanged mouth, “that ain’t necessary. Know plenty of places you can get food, if you want.”

“Meager portionssss. And not half assss tempting.”

“Look man, I don’t wanna fight, so please just back off.”

The naga hisses, winding closer at an alarming speed. Then there’s a burst of movement and a flash of silver.

“You stay away from him.” Indrid rises as tall as he can, his body between Duck and the threat. 

“Mind your own busssiness, ssseagoer.” 

“Someone trying to make a meal out of my friend is most definitely my business.” 

“Sssso be it.” The naga lunges. Indrid pushes Duck out of the way and catches his opponent, the force of the strike sending them both sliding down the incline towards the river. The naga outweighs Indrid by a considerable amount, keeps pinning him down only for the mer to wriggle free at the last moment.  Duck knows the agreement is humans stay out of Naga/merfolk conflicts, but there’s no way in hell he’s going to sit by and let Indrid get killed for his sake. 

Right as he locates a large, hopefully sturdy branch, there’s a tremendous splash. The naga thrashes in the water as he’s pulled downstream. Indrid is underwater, holding his opponent in such a way that, the next time he strikes, he has to put his head beneath the current. Right into Indrid’s waiting grasp. The mer keeps his head trapped as his tail whips back and forth. It’s only when the naga is mostly limp, and Duck afraid he’s just witnessed a murder, that Indrid releases him. The half-drowned creature drags himself onto the shore, slithering away without a second glance at Duck. 

“And, and do not come back!” Indrid pants from the shallows, struggling to pull himself back onto the sand. Duck hurries down to him, and Indrid reaches out his hand, concerned, “Are, did, did he hurt you.”

“No, not a fuckin scratch. ‘Drid, pretty sure you just saved my fuckin life.”

“Oh good.” Indrid’s smile is bright, even as his eyes grow blurry, “it is nice to end things with a worthwhile deed.”

Duck sees the puncture wounds in the merman’s arm the instant before he passes out.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Indrid wakes up, which is in and of itself a surprise. As is the fact he’s half submerged in water. Rolling over with a groan, he discovers he’s still on the beach where he fought the naga. His bandaged arm aches but is intact, someone has thoughtfully placed a pillow under his head, and there’s a small tent just up the incline. Sound asleep in a sitting position outside the tent is Duck. 

He wriggles and crawls his way to the human, arms giving out as he reaches him, which means his head lands in Duck’s lap.

“Huwhazzat? Oh fuck, ‘Drid, you’re up.” Instead of pushing him away, Duck cradles his head and pets his hair, “thank fuck, I was so fuckin worried. Dani said it might take a few days for you to recover but I couldn’t stop worryin.”

“Duck? How long have you been here looking after me?” 

“Since you got bit. So three days ago. Sarah got some anit-vemon down for you, and Dani swam up to bring you extra medicine just in case. Oh, and Barclay brought you food, I been tryin to get it into you when you were a little bit awake.”

Indrid manages to sit up, curling his tail around them, “You did not need to do all this for me. I knew the risks when I came to your aid. You did not need to save me in return.”

“Fuck need, I wanted to. You, you mean so fuckin much to me.” Duck strokes his cheek, runs his fingers up his tail, “I missed you so much the last three days, realized how so often the part of my afternoon was you comin to talk to me.”

The futures take an odd turn and Indrid shakes his head to clear them, certain he’s seeing wrong. 

“And, uh, and I wanted to ask, uh, when you’re feelin better do you, uh, wanna have dinner with me. Like, uh, on a date?”

“Yes, so very much” Indrid drapes his arms around him, resting their foreheads together.

“Mind if I get a little kiss to tide me over?”

Indrid dips his head down, planting a chaste kiss on his lips before rubbing their cheeks together with a purr, “Apologies, but my kisses must be close mouthed. I’d hate to nick you with a fang.”

“Fine by me.” Duck kisses his shoulders, rubs his tail, “any kind of kiss from you is a goddamn blessin. Besides” he murmurs in Indrid’s ear, “sure we can figure out lots of other things to do together.”

“Absolutely” Indrid purrs, “but for now, would you care to join me for a swim?”

[alotsgonnachange]

Mystic Messenger Saeran’s AE Thoughts (.......And Prayers..) #Spoilerz

Hello, I just finished Saeran’s after ending and I have a lot of things to say and I am going to write it down while I'm still all keyed up about it.

First of all… Please DO NOT ask me how much money I spent to finish this as fast as I did…. I’m grown but my bank account is certainly going to have a good ole fashioned CHUCKLE at this….. It’s been a long quarantine I deserve a lil happiness as a treat methinks!

I have been playing this absolutely insane game since I think 2016? When I first started playing the deep routes had JUST come out I think? And I was just finishing up high school and am now a college grad...lmao

I’ve played all routes at least once except Jaehee but i’ve seen walkthroughs of her route (I’ve heard it makes you hate Jumin and he’s my favorite so um. hehe). V’s and Saeran’s routes I found to be so emotionally intense and just….a lot and I've been waiting a long ass god damn time for this after ending okay…. I would theorize and make up an ending in my head but i’m no writer so it was hard to figure out lol. I’m a Jumin stan mostly but I love everybody and yeah I should probably play that jumin dlc too but I need like a DAY to recover from Saeran’s AE. Enough about me HERE are my thoughts on it overall

Major Saeran AE Spoilers under da cut!

Can we please discuss V showing up to the C+R conference room with basically chloroform and made everybody Pass Out like??? I was alone in my room at like midnight just SCREAMING at my phone???? And the creepy ass CG ???? It’s like that gif of sarah paulson from ahs being like “I put arsenic in the wine….and the pasta”

Anyway I screamed at V a lot during this process!!

Loved RFA being sweet and kind to saeran (before V fucking drugged them…)

This is such common V behavior “I have to do it all myself...there’s no other way..” GIRL SHUT UPPP You do this every route....

SO many CG’s and I enjoy them a lot

Saeran’s sprite looks a little TOO crisp compared to everyone else but maybe its a glitch??? V next to him is in 480p while saeran is like 1080p

Hearing both Saeran and Saeyoung missing the other brother the whole time??? PAIN. All my homies know is PAIN

BOSS and his V for Vendetta ass guy fawkes mask??? I literally yelled “this game is TERRIBLE!!” several times at my phone

Their dad is so>??????? When he was sitting on the couch with saeyoung in that one CG while simultaneously telling him to kill himself?????????? Maybe chairman han is actually the best dad in this game somehow

When V and Rika were like we’re back together teehee teehee okay pack it up bonnie and clyde ..

When chairman han calls u and says hes jealous of u and saeran…..HUH????? I’m calling HR

When they go to the apartment and see boss and vanderwood and poor saeyoung is sitting there seeing his brother for the first time in years i wanted to D word sooooo bad like PAIN...PAIN….

Can we HAVE A DISCUSSION ABOUT JUMIN HAN BEING THE BEST CHARACTER IN THE GAME AND HE LOST EVERYTHING IN THIS AE……. he just took the blame and moved on jumin what the hell….. I love him so much r we serious? He watched his 2 closest friends betray him in the worst way and found out abt how Rika abused Saeyoung and Saeran???? I felt just AWFUL. Terrible ...Terrible….

Rika’s change in demeanor from Saeran's actual route is certainly a Choice. I find her much more bearable this time around and unfortunately i think I was too nice to her and ended up with a bad end LMFAO

I was happy to see Saeran stand up for himself and become stronger and confident. You go king!

The CG of Yoosung laying in Zen’s lap is everything to me…

HOWEVER YUP I sure did get a bad ending and I was so mad fdsafdskfdhsf ! (I would be happy to clarify how I got the good one the second time.) MAKE SURE To SAVE EARLY in days 2 and 3 bc the branches on day 4 is where the bad end will show up. For me it was the first day 4 chat and then a story mode titled “SAVIOR”.... If you see that RUN FOR THE HILLS!!

I was so mad! But I had saved in day 2 and replayed and MANAGED to get good end

I’m obsessed with everyone calling V and Rika “that psychotic couple” like…..its true its true…

No those two are so toxic… V’s route was torture watching them go on and on about the sun like yo can yall just call each other babe like normal people.

I respect straight people but not V and RIka that shit was just wrong… Straight marriage was a mistake

Oh lord i also FULLY Forgot Rika killed the twins’ mother…. Yeah that scene was um Certainly a lot but it needed to happen eventually

Like it’s good they know but damn that storyline is just so bleak

I think it was satisfying TO A DEGREE….To see Rika understand where she was wrong, why she was wrong, fess up and even APOLOGIZE! I was very surprised.

Saeran and Saeyoung are Certainly twins with the amount that those two self sacrifice in every route MY GOD…..

The scene with Jumin talking to his father and the other scene of him praying oh my god I cannot tell you how happy I was to see him begin to understand and address his own feelings in a route that was not his own. My main problem with Jumin’s route has always been the trapping MC in his penthouse aspect.. This way Jumin understands love and emotions without being overly possessive !!! YAY also loved seeing him be on good terms with his dad who was surprisingly profound

That last Story mode was Really a Lot…. and Strange things occurred which I will get into in just a minute

Jumin becoming a politician is so funny but ngl … i see it.

Yoosung going to france to study pastries ok king I see u! (it made more sense to me than the vet thing anyway)

Lastly Zen FURRY ERA

MY BEEF With the AE

I was happy with how they handled it for the most part. I think Cheritz heard our feedback about V’s after ending and was like okay….let’s try something different

HOWEVER

Saeran…. Sweet kind saeran… IS SO AFFECTIONATE HAHA….

He must have said I love you like 300 times…..very mushy gushy flowery language...and maybe that’s just his personality but for me it was like eating cake with buttercream cake. It means well, but god damn is it sugary and going to cause a stomach ache later.

He was just… SO MUCH! SO forward and ON all the time in his affections. I honestly felt kind of smothered and by day 3 and 4 I was sooooo over all the compliments… King you’ve come a very long way, but ur still putting MC on a pedestal and probably need to see a therapist.

Nextly….Rika and V….. Naw that knock out gas really ...that hurt lol. Coming from “I would do anything to protect RFA” V? Idk like…. EYE felt betrayed reading that. It was just hurtful. I can’t even imagine how the members would have felt as they were passing out. It was just so cruel. I suppose I understand why but like?? Just TERRIBLE

Them being in cahoots with the agency and the prime minister..HUH??? Also too much

V just felt so irresponsible like I do understand that he ended up in a weird web of secrets that’s hard to untangle but he’s so fucking stubborn he’s SO stubborn it makes me insane. Like sir… It seems like in other routes he wanted to try to protect Rika and the RFA.. But in this AE it seems more to me that he was like yeah i’m protecting Rika and That’s It… so fucking hurtful to me. Both of y’all apologize ESPECIALLY to the twins and Jumin..

The forgiveness thing…… Okay so I think some people will not like that Saeran decided to “forgive” the people who hurt him (Rika, V, Saejoong, his mother). I would point out that I actually think this was approached somewhat well. He says at one point that he doesn’t think they’re good or bad, just people. I think he sounded mature and like this was the way for him personally to accomplish his healing process. Would I have loved for Saeran to flip V and Rika off and kick Saejoong off a cliff? Yea I really would. But like…. If that’s what HE needs to do to heal then who am I to judge?

HOWEVER…. Everything Eye just said goes out the window when the scenes at the end with Saejoong come up… I was PERPLEXED. Like why did he HUG his deranged father who just kicked the shit out of him??? Also all the chat options that MC has with him r like blah blah you’re like this because no one loves you were so corny to me LMFAOOOO?

AND WHEN HE WAS IN THE ROOM LATER WITH SAERAN… i’m sorry but if that were me I would have called a nurse to deck his ass. Cool he turned himself in YOU SUCK SOOOO BAD AND I NEVER WANT YOU TO COME NEAR SAEYOUNG AND SAERAN AGAIN THANKS.

*scratches ass* I wish I got to see saeyoung and saeran finally sit down and have that first conversation after a long time and hug CG but the ending was fine I GUESS….. I dont care about ROMANCE I want those boys to be happy brothers together

Anyway that was really emotionally exhausting but I fr think I got it out of my system after literal years… And I can rest in peace knowing the choi twins are happy. THATS ALL I WANTED TO KNOW!!!!

[soulwillower]

buttercup • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: Would you mind writing a Richie Tozier X reader soulmate AU where Richie is VERY self conscious and he finds out that the reader is his soulmate and the reader is well known and very pretty, so he’s just like djjdjfgjjcbvnfnf but once they actually meet she really likes him? :0 thanks if you consider!

warning: swearing, angst, richie being edgy and also a bit unstable (king shit), neuroatypical richie!!!, fluff, soulmate au!! <33 also sorry this may be rough, i havent edited it at all

[reader + losers are in college]

lmk what u guys think of this one,... idk LOL

4.1k words

♡

richie was about to be sick. yes, he really, really was going to vomit in approximately ten seconds and he didn’t know what he was going to do. the room, full of barely-adults chugging jungle juice was sweaty and bustling and the walls were closing in on him quick. those people who weren't in the main rooms were doing sniff in the bathrooms and blocking his pathway to heaven (the toilet) so he quickly stumbles towards the sliding-glass door.

he passes a guy who claps his shoulder and says in a deep voice, "you good, bro?"

no, no. he's not good, bro. thanks for asking, though.

as he finally breaks free of the plastic, out of the crusty balloon that was holding his body hostage, he takes a deep breath and sprawls himself on the back deck, staring up at the clouds in the nighttime sky. maybe he should go home and mull this over, before he crams it down his own throat and chokes to death, alone and broken on the back deck of a 22 year old business major's rental house.

he laughs to himself - an image which he's sure would be a full on maniacal scene to an onlooker - as he lights a cigarette with very shaky fingers. even if he chooses to give this situation some thought, he will end up being forced regardless because this is, quite literally, richard tozier's destiny.

y/n y/l/n is richie's destiny, and it makes him feel like complete shit.

you see - his whole life, richie knew about the fucking soulmate tattoos. of course he did, everybody did - it was, like, one of the first things you learn, ever. he knows that there's basically a soulmate for every person and often times the soulmate marks were different, the ways of finding your soulmate were wide and far.

for most of richie's life - actually, almost all of it up until the last month - he'd had a big, fat 0 tattooed on his arm and below it a humiliating phrase that was quite the epitome of richie himself.

yet it never changed, which led him, his friends, and his parents to determine that he'd gotten a time-counter soulmate mark, which he likes to pride himself on believing he did not give a single fuck about.

the number is supposed to count the amount of time that you've spent with your soulmate, and there's usually a sentence or phrase that's associated with your soulmate's first thoughts of you below it. and yeah, of course the first thing the lucky guy or gal thought of richie is 'wow, those are the ugliest socks ever.' pretty fucking on-brand, if richie says so himself.

so yeah, he never really paid attention to his soulmate mark - partly because the thought of emotionally opening up to someone enough for them to know his whole and true self was repulsive and terrifying enough to make him physically ill, enough for him to develop a crazy sense of humor as a less-than proficient coping mechanism for the insecurity and fear that lives in his mind rent-free, 24/7 365. but mostly he didn't pay attention to the mark because, you know, he thought it was lame.

that is, until it changed from the 0.

it happened on the first day of classes fall semester of this, his freshman year of college.

which, honestly, was a huge fucking bummer, because he literally came into contact with almost 800 new people that first day through classes, dorms, walking around campus, and the dining hall. and yet, as he got back to his dorm and smoked a bowl with bill, he'd noticed that his arm had said 00:51:26.

bill had been so excited he'd almost lifted richie through the roof, because 'holy sh-shit, rich, y-you did it!'

it was hard to believe someone was out there for him, though. and yeah, he didn't give a fuck about it, but he also kind of did.

richie, now thinking back on that day, groans a bit. if he'd just known, if he had just fucking looked at the thigh of the girl in front of him with the soft-looking grin and the alluring scent of orange creamsicle shampoo, who'd smiled a bit when he borrowed a pen - if he'd just known then that y/n was meant to spend the rest of her life with him, he could've... well, he's not really sure what he could have done.

he thinks to that moment in time, as he was blowing smoke out the dorm window with bill and giggling as he ate an entire bag of cheez-its, and how much he wanted to know who it was back then.

but tonight, it had become a nightmare when the information practically fell into his lap. he's at this house party in late september, and about five minutes ago it was just boring enough to warrant sitting on the rug in the living room and just fun enough to actually stay.

“-yeah, she said the first time you guys met was in microeconomics, right?” ben says, and richie huffs in agreement as he picks at the skin on his nails. ben was talking about her again, and richie's heart was beating stupidly hard. y/n, one of his closest friends that he'd made outside of the losers, never failed to make his heart run a goddamn marathon.

“-she told me the first thing she noticed was that you were wearing socks with sandals. and she thought that your socks were really ugly.” he finishes with a laugh and richie’s head snaps up at that. he feels chills spill over back as if he’d been doused with ice water and he gapes at ben. “wait, what?” richie shudders, the words escaping his lips quietly enough that his friends mistake it for a forceful exhale brought on by offense at the word 'ugly.'

“well she was right to think that.” stan says from behind his solo cup, carefree, as if richie’s life wasn’t crashing to an alarming and unbelievable halt. eddie giggles faintly somewhere from the floor where the losers are sitting, but richie’s mind is reeling too much for him to react to or even comprehend anything.

“rich, i th-thought i got you to st-stop wearing socks and sandals so long ago.” bill adds, laughing into his hand. but richie’s barely registering any other fucking information because he’s staring at ben, who is finally noticing his friend’s perplexed face. “you good, rich?” ben asks carefully.

“wh-er, wait. what exactly did she say?” richie asks, really not wanting to know the answer and yet wanting to know more than life itself. it can't be her. he’s getting odd looks from everyone now, but he's starting to breathe quickly and he thinks he might vomit. he kind of regrets never showing anybody but big bill his soulmate mark, because he's suffocating right now in embarrassment and bill is a little too drunk to assume what richie's assuming right now.

“wait, y/n y/l/n, right? from my dorm. she’s here tonight, she told me- oh, y/n!” stan calls, looking directly over richie’s shoulder. it happens so fast. y/n, in the flesh, walks past at just that moment, breaking out into a breath-taking, world-halting smile. richie's chest hurts worse than it ever has before as she waves and bustles over to plop herself next to richie. and holy shit, she's wearing shorts because even though it's cold out, the house is warm and richie can see dark ink on her thigh. a soulmate tattoo. he can't draw his eyes away even though his brain is screaming to knock it off because there's going to be something there he doesn't want to accept, but he then does it anyways.

he almost hyperventilates as he reads the words emblazoned on her thigh,

27:36:08 and right below it: "holy hell her hair smells like orange creamsicle"

he almost sobs right then and there as she greets him with a soft hand on his shoulder, completely unaware of their fate and richie has to stand up abruptly because he can literally feel the numbers changing on his arm as the seconds go by with y/n at his side.

and now, mere minutes later he's out here, laying in self pity as anxiety claws at every inch of his body and fear tingles on him like the slight presence of snowflakes falling on his skin - briefly he wonders if, as an older man, he'll wonder how he never got cold wearing nothing, vulnerable as he welcomes in that falling snow.

he would be totally daft not to wonder how he ended up with a soulmate like her, someone not only so fucking attractive but so kind and undeserving of a monstrosity of a human like him. she is, in every place he isn't, a complete and utter success of a person; he's a hurricane where she's whitecaps in the sea, he's loud and abrupt while she is kind and outgoing. maybe they do work well together, hell - they spend enough time on study dates outside of class for him to know that he does really like her. but richie also knows his standoffish, happy-go-lucky and untamed personality paired with his unwillingness to make himself appear vulnerable to most people will probably have a very large impact on... whatever it is that happens with y/n.

because that's really the point, isn't it?

she is stuck with him. bucky beaver, the trashmouth, mr. i-can't-keep-my-trap-shut-for-three-seconds. y/n, the most incredible person in this world, is the kind of person that was designed for richie to admire from afar, as he is so willing to suffer through. because as much as it hurts to watch her and to love her without loving her, it is a thousand times safer for both of them than the inevitable look of disappointment that will befall y/n’s angelic features when she discovers who her burden of a soulmate is.

the thought makes richie choke out a weak sob, sitting up and digging the heel of his palms into his sockets, trying to scrub out the image of himself from his brain. awful, awful, bad.

he takes a long drag from his cigarette and for a brief moment he wonders if, just maybe, she’ll love him back eventually. the thought makes him feel like crying all over again.

huge nose, big teeth, awkwardly skinny and too tall. maybe he's got nice hair, but he sometimes wakes up too late and can only brush his teeth and swipe on deodorant before he's sprinting out his dorm with his pickle socks and stan's old sandals, trudging to class and getting in the way of y/n's future.

but he is her future, after all - how can that be right?

he doesn't have enough time to take another drag from his cig as he hears the glass door open, the noise from the party bursting through the gap in the foundation of the house and sending him back to five minutes, ago, inside. he cranes his neck and can't bring himself to be surprised when he sees her, backlit from the party inside and figure in his mind standing like the only being in the world.

she thinks he looks devastatingly beautiful tonight. she loves the awkwardness in his bones, the way he carries himself with confidence although she's not sure he always really has it. he's wearing some dumb socks again as usual, though they're mostly covered by his black pants and red high-tops this time. it makes her smile softly.

she wants to know him, really know him, as more than just a classmate, a crush, a boy who's friends with stan uris from the floor above her own room. she wants to feel his large hands on her in more than just fleeting greetings, knucks to the shoulder or jaw. she wants the sharp taste of nicotine and mint from those life savers he was always sucking on in her own mouth as he holds her tightly against him, she wants to know everything about him and be with him, even if they aren't somehow destined to be forever. which, she thinks with an array of wild animals tumbling around her chest, they might be.

after all, someone at this party is her soulmate, and she's almost 99.8% sure it's richie. it gives her the most beautiful butterflies she's ever had, even when he stares at her from the deck with glassy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"what’s up, buttercup?” is all she says, in her mind because he's stunned her to near-silence once again by just existing, and in his mind because she is the most perfect being.

he doesn't respond despite being completely charmed by her, because he's breathing in the nicotine and its making his fingers twitch and even though he's sober by now, he thinks he may be tweaking a bit, mostly from the overwhelming set of information that just smacked into his face when y/n walked over into that room.

he watches as suddenly she's dropping herself so she's sat next to him, her legs swinging off the edge of the deck. she eyes his cigarette. "that's so unhealthy, rich." she says softly, teasing but with a lacing of truth behind it that really makes richie itch to never smoke ever again in his life. but he's a stubborn ass, so he instead takes a deeper drag, maintaining eye contact. he can feel one tear slip from his eye and he feels so fucking melodramatic as he does so, but he's at the lowest he's been in a while, so he gives himself a bit of credit.

she reaches out and pulls the cigarette directly from between his lips, sending him a pointed look as she presses it out on the finished wood of the deck. he wipes the tear away when she's not looking. and as she turns back he smirks, unsure what else to do, as he blows the smoke out of his mouth towards her face.

"hi, toots." he says in what he hopes is a normal tone, despite his blotchy and tear-trailed face. she blinks her eyes owlishly at him but just shrugs, "you left a little prematurely back there. what, do i smell that bad?" she jokes. no, he thinks, you smell like orange creamsicles.

it's bittersweet, the irony in her statement. because he knows that she probably knows what she smells like every day, as it's literally tattooed right on the meat of her leg, on display for her and whoever else lucky enough to find themselves being acquainted with the skin of her upper thigh. the thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

maybe if he were feeling a little less in-the-dumps, a little less like a complete and utter disappointment and failure that ruined this sweet girl's life, he would have ribbed her back a bit. you know, grind her gears in typical tozier fashion.

but he's exhausted and so distraught that he can't bring himself to even look at her. "i'm not in the mood" he grumbles, his heart pounding. she frowns, tilting her head.

"okay, what's wrong, richie?" she asks, and it's in that caring voice that she uses that isn't pitying but simply solicitous in nature. her calming force on him is obvious and immediate and his teeth stop rattling around in his head

he wants to scream because she's burning warm and perfect while he's frigid cold inside his body; a wasteland full of broken slinkies and half-formulated 'your mom' jokes that are melded to the crust of him with the tar that's been sucked straight from those damn ciggies. for crying out loud, if he were to so much as touch her, she'd get corrupted.

she notices as he scoots a bit away from her, and her heart hurts. he's so upset, clearly, and yet it hurts her that he can't trust himself or her enough to open up; no fault of his own surely, but heartbreaking all the same. "i care about you, and i really want to be here for you." she says it like there's going to be more, but the words kind of die in her throat as she realizes the extend of her words.

holy shit, she thinks, i'd go to the ends of the earth for him. if richie asked me to, i think i'd probably kill the queen.

"i stubbed my toe, and it really hurts." he says then, and the absurdity of his excuse makes her laugh out loud, head tilting back towards the moon as the bubbly giggles tumble from her lips. she looks at him after and his face is a twisted mix of affection and utter pain, a combination that hurts her to her core but lights a fuel in her that makes her want to help him.

"it's true." he mutters, motioning to his shoe limply, and she looks at his foot, the tip of his converse scribbled in sharpie with the word 'half-brain' and then a bunch of hearts.

"i like your socks." she says absentmindedly, grinning at him as she says it, voice teasing. but the reaction she was hoping for was nowhere to be seen as richie suddenly heaves a hiccup-sob, one so upsetting and quiet that she thinks she misheard it.

but he's keeling over and clutching his face with his hands, shaking his head, and her heart breaks. "richie, honey please tell me what's going on. or i can just sit here, if you'd rather-"

her sentence is cut off with richies own rushed words, expelled from his mouth so quickly that it's almost as if they were trying to escape while his lips tried to hold them in.

"-you're going to have to spend the rest of your life trying to force yourself to love me, and that terrifies me.”

as he says it, his stomach twists itself inwards at his admission and he thinks he's going to be sick. he doesn't deserve you, you're going to resent him for it. she's silent for a few moments, and he doesn't dare look anywhere near her as tears trail down his solemn cheekbones and drop onto the black corduroy that wraps around his jittering legs.

"richie, please, what are you trying to say?" she says quietly, sounding scared, nervous, upset... richie did that. it's his fault. he tilts his head back, his brain buzzing in guilt. "fuck," he says, and it comes out broken, "you... i- you're my soulmate." he says, looking down to where his chest rises and falls almost unnaturally, a consequence of muscle memory being tampered with by the lethally college combination of nicotine, alcohol and marijuana on an empty stomach.

earlier he was afraid that if he opened his mouth too wide he would lose control of his tongue and then the words would come out without him wanting them to, but he knows he's basically sober by now, as sober as y/n is next to him - he's just neurotic, but he doesn't want her to know that, because oh god, what if she hated him for it?

she wouldn't, right? isn't she supposed to find a way to love him?

this was a really stupid idea, but in his mind it was one that had to be done. shutting his eyes, he tugs the sleeve of his left arm upwards, taking a shaky breath. again, it's silent as she reads the words written there. wow, those are the ugliest socks ever.

she stares at the words, and the number above it, then she looks at her own thigh, where the exact same number counts on in time with his.

he wastes no time, though: "-don't worry, doll. i've got it figured out, we can just- maybe we can get yours covered and you don't have to think about it anymore. fi-find someone better, like, oh, bill - he'd treat you nice i think. just- we don't have to think about it, i'm sorry." he says in one breath, not looking at her at all.

"richie, how can i be yours if you're not mine?" she says thickly because she's fighting off tears wondering how someone so incredible and full of life could feel so undeserving.

"you can't want me, you can't." he insists, not looking at her as she gapes at him because if he were to look at her expression he may lose it. it's quiet again in their own little world here, the air silent and numbing as y/n takes a breath.

"oh my god, wait richie how are we this stupid?" she asks, perking up and lightly slapping his arm. he looks at her in shock as she begins to laugh, "we've been alone together so many times. how did we not notice?" she asks, and he chuckles a bit, shrugging.

"maybe we're not the sharpest crayons in the drawer, toots. all i'm sayin' is that i figured it out first." he says cheekily, and secretly both of them are shocked to see how quickly they fell together, as if the knowledge that they were made for each other made all their insecurities fall away.

her face softens again. "you know, i saw my timer counting tonight and i was hoping more than anything that you'd be here. that we'd be-" she adds softly, a hand landing lightly on richie's thigh, sending licks of flames up his body. she takes a breath and restarts. "do you know how fucking bad i wanted it to be you?"

and just like that, y/n unintentionally provides a luscious mix of words and tricks that fill him with barely enough confidence to let him bet when he knows he should fold.

what's life without a little risk?

he meets her eyes for the first time in a few minutes and hers are large and hopeful as they wait patiently for him to give her something. but he still can't speak without running his mouth, so instead he cups her cheeks. her lips part slowly and he stares in awe at her raw beauty, unable to hold it in longer.

he presses his lips to her quickly and to her it feels like he is trying to prove something. it makes her heart soar as he comes alive against her, pressing as enthusiastically as she is into him. he tastes, as she'd guessed, like nicotine but mostly like a mint and it makes her grin as he pulls back.

"is this okay?" he's asking then, his thumb soothing over her cheek sweetly and giving her the same butterflies she gets when he smiles; the very same butterflies that release when he says anything to her, when he comes to her dorm for a study date with two red bulls in his hand, and when she realized their tattoos beat the same.

"yeah, of course." she whispers against his lips, the feeling of his teasing lightly making her sniffle. she presses their lips together again, this time warmer, more comfortably and his hands move to her hips and tug her closer, her hands winding to his neck as his own hands explore her body, caressing her sides gently. he pulls back and holds her softly.

"your hair smells nice." he says sheepishly, and she grins so widely she thinks she may split in two. her heart flutters as she looks into his eyes, finding nothing but love. "orange creamsicle, huh?" she asks with pink cheeks, and he laughs lightly, nodding his head. "best smell ever, babe."

"you make me happy." she says it onto his lips again, and the shiver that runs down his spine is a feeling he wouldn't mind feeling forever. his heart soars because he believes her, he trusts her. she wouldn't lie to him.

"we're so dramatic, aren't we?" richie jokes, his walls sliding back up a bit, but as y/n cuddles into his chest, head against his beating heart as she presses kisses to his neck, he realizes she accepts him.

"yeah, well. we're made for each other, aren't we rich?" she asks gently as his hand falls to brush over her thigh, right over the words. "that's right, toots." he says softly, looking down at her hairline softly, still in disbelief that it worked out for him. she turns to look at him, cheeks dusted a bit as she leans up to press a kiss on his lips.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier​ @simplesammyx​ @dickology64​ @clownsloveyou​ @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro​ @trashedfortozier​ @oceandog13​ @finnskindofwoman​  @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs 

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Okay you mentioned Kohga having the hots for king Rhoam. I'm sorry, but can we see something with that???

I make ONE fucking joke, and Ya'll take it to the next level. Fuck you, let's get this over with.

"Kingie! Long time no see big guy!"

Kohga was planning on just hanging out at the hideout today, when he was given a summon by the king. Not that Kohga minded a trip to the castle, he was always fed pretty well. He dove in for a high five with the king, but from the way he glared, he could tell he was NOT in the mood. Even the blade master he brought with him had to cringe at the rejection. Sooga joined him too, but seemed unfazed by the rather cold attitude.

"I'm glad you came at such short notice. I have something very important to discuss with you."

"Oh is it about the fact that we're buying up all the bananas? Look, we still gotta do SOMETHING evil to-"

"It's NOT."

His voice was steely, firm. Someone was NOT happy. His glare was so menacing, his boys took a step forward, as if the king was about to try to beat his ass. Kohga patted their shoulders, making them ease up a bit.

"Easy boys, easy. Look, you two wait out here, imma have a chat with Kingy here."

Sooga of course held protests, but Kohga held his hand up, silencing him.

"Trust me. You two hunks can dash in and protect me at any time. Not that I need it. Though I DO like the attention."

His men bowed, keeping their place. Kohga followed King Rhoam, right to his secret study, in the library, beyond the metal book case. He hated royals, but he had to hand it to Rhoam, there were so many sneaky spaces to hide and explore (and coming from the chief of the Yiga clan, that was high praise). Rhoam shut it behind them both, and Kohga took a look around. This was way different from the main rooms in the castle. Much more personal, snuggly even. A few crates of supplies, a desk full of scattered books, a few chairs, and even a few weapons hung on the wall besides them.

"Nice spot. How many people know about this little place?"

"The ones who built it, and my daughter."

"Well, aren’t I special?"

Kohga chuckled, pulling up a seat and helping himself to the surprisingly comfy chair. He might steal this, honestly. King Rhoam took a seat in front of him, clearing his throat.

"I suppose you're wondering why I summoned you?"

"If it's not about the bananas, then no not at all."

Kohga was already kinda bored, and he started to hum, playing with his hands. He found it easier than just sitting there and looking someone in the face.

"It's about my daughter, Zelda. She complained about you."

Kohga stopped, finally looking at his face. He was about to ask if he was serious, and apparently he was.

"Whaaaat? ME? What did I do?"

He sighed, before folding his arms across his chest.

"She is growing tired of your men. Apparently you give them permission to try to court her."

Kohga wanted to argue with that, but then he thought about it. He was kinda at fault, getting whatever clan member interested to hit on her. Flowers, treats, poetry, even just getting a few smooth talkers to try their hands at getting her attention. He just shipped Mipha and Link so hard, he decided to boot out the competition. Not that he hated her, of course not. Kohga shrugged.

"How is that a problem? I'm throwing HUNKS at her! No clue how that makes ME the bad guy! It’s because they’re Yiga, isn’t it?”

“It’s because she’s already in love with her knight. I’m already planning on giving him my blessings, should they finally decide to wed.”

Kohga should’ve expected it honestly, this old fashioned kinda ranting. Sure they were both kinda up there in age, but they were NOT alike. Kohga shook his head, standing up from his seat.

“Look, I don’t have kids, so I dunno what it does to ya, but you’re taking things WAY outta proportion here. You’re already ready for your daughter, seventeen, to get married.”

King didn’t seem to get it, as if this was a totally normal thing.

“Well yes. Royals marry around this age, why dawdle?”

Kohga put his hand on Rhoam’s shoulder, who didn’t seem to love it, but didn’t exactly push Kohga off.

“Look, let the girl have a little FUN before she gets hitched! She’s got the rest of her life for that stuff, if anything I’m just giving her choices.”

“I’m...not following.”

“For the love of- look. If she wants me to back off, I’ll tell my guys to heel. But I don’t really think she’d complain about me. She only really clams up about you. So it’s why I’m thinking SHE’S not complaining. YOU are.”

He knew by the look in his face that he was right. Kohga chuckled, hands on his hips.

“You don’t gotta lie like that! Makin’ me think I was a bad guy here! If YOU have problems, say you do. Doesn’t mean I’ll listen, but at least you wouldn't be a liar.”

His brows furrowed, but Kohga found it hard to take him seriously at this point.

“I am saying this for the sake of my daughter. If she is to remain pure-”

“Oh great, purity culture bullshit. Look, Kingy, don’t blame her for the fact that you haven’t gotten any lately.”

He put his hand over his chest, as if he had something just terribly hurtful.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“You heard me! You know If I didn’t know any better, you’re just mad because everyone’s gettin’ some lovin’ but you.”

Kohga leaned against the King’s chair. This was some juicy shit, you bet your bananas he was gonna milk it for all it was worth.

“When WAS the last time you got off? Few months?”

King Rhoam looked at him as if he had gone insane, before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Almost nineteen years, roughly.”

“Holy-you haven’t nutted since your kid was born? Fucks sake, I’d be grumpy as hell too, no wonder.”

He wasn’t even expecting him to answer, honestly. King Rhoam scoffed, as if regretting giving him a response.

“We’re derailing the topic at hand-”

“Now now, I’m not done yet.”

Kohga moved in front of him, one hand at the chair, and pinning Rhoam between the seat, and Kohga’s face.

“Look, I get it. You wanna take care of what you have, you’re constantly stressed, I can only imagine how bad you have it. And knowing I was the cause of some of that stress? Selfish of me really. Let me make it up to you there, Kingy.”

Rhoam looked perplexed at his choice of words, like he figured he would be. Kohga always did have the hots for the clueless ones.

“I’m saying, let me end your streak.”

Still nothing. Holy hell, he forgot he loved idiots. He sighed, pointing down to the king’s crotch.

“Let me polish the royal scepter. Take a gander at the royal jewels. I’m essentially saying let me get you off.”

THAT seemed to get a rise out of the king, given the way he damn near jumped out of his chair.

“That is NOT why I summoned you here! In the SLIGHTEST! The AUDACITY!”

Kohga let go off the chair, putting his hands on his hips.

“One, you have the audacity to NOT immediately say yes, I’m a goddamn treat. Two, why the hell not? You ever fuck anyone that WASN’T the Queen?”

No response. So that was a no. Oh this was going to be some fucking fun. Kohga put his hands on his knees, leaning in so his mask was so close to touching his face.

“Tell you what, because I like newbies. You let me do my thing. And if you don’t like it, you just say the word. In exchange, I’ll tell my guys to heel. Eh? Cool offer?”

King Rhoam didn’t immediately say no, like he expected him to. He seemed stunned at first, but hey, you miss every shot you don’t take. He was going to get a no any-

“Alright. Fine. So long as this does NOT leave this study.”

Holy SHIT. This guy did NOT just say yes. Kohga fumbled a bit, clearly not knowing how to react. He wasn’t bluffing in the slightest, he just had no clue that the king would ACTUALLY take him up on that. He chuckled, poking Rhoam on his nose.

“Well look at you! Growin’ outta that royal shell, color me surprised! Alright, stays between us. Now, you just sit right there, and let ol’ Kohga do his thing.”

He made the king tilt his head up a bit, so he couldn’t see him. Not letting him see what he was doing would make him freak out a lot less, and he could be in denial about the fact that a dude was gonna suck him off. Kohga pushed aside his mask, just enough to reveal his lips, before he got down on his knees. He parted the King’s legs, taking but a moment to massage them. Lot’s of clothes made the guy look almost fat, but Kohga knew better. Those were some toned muscles under that, just how Kohga imagined. He kept massaging for a moment longer, getting him used to being touched, before he un did his belt, and pulling him free of his cloth confines. And holy. Shit. King Rhoam was a dilf dream down here. He wasn’t absolutely massive, but he certainly wasn’t a pipsqueak. He was long, thick, with plenty of white pubic hair. Kohga softly stroked the length of it, and watched as Rhoam seemed to freeze upon the contact.

“Right right, been a while. I’ll go slow, I’ll go slow. Easy does it.”

He had a rather lovely curve downward, and Kohga could only picture how well it’d go down his throat. He kept his motions nice and slow, till he noticed the King’s grip on the armrests loosen. Then he started to up the ante, just a little bit. With his other hand, he cupped his balls, lightly rubbing them in his palm. Then he heard him groan. It was faint, but Kohga caught it. That was the sound of a man who hadn’t been touched in a long, long time. Even by himself, apparently. He was already getting stiff in his hand.

“You’ve...done this before.”

“Not with a royal at least. But yeah, Kohga’s seen a few bananas in his day.”

Rhoam clearly had some kind of retort, before he seemed to jump upon feeling Kohga kiss the head. Kohga tried not to snicker, finding his sensitivity just hilarious. His age seemed to not affect his need for attention. Especially given that a few kisses around the base was enough to get him nice and hard in his hand. He made his touch a bit firmer on his balls, and his stroking a bit quicker on his length. And Rhoam was LOVING it. His head was tossed back, his breathing got all nice and fast, and he could see, past that beard, him biting his bottom lip.

“There we go, all nice and comfy. Any chance you want me to stop here?”

Rhoam was so out of it, he couldn’t do anything but shake his head. Kohga chuckled. He was gonna love this. Feeling him start to throb in his hand, he decided to really wow ol’ Kingy here. He pulled his hand away, using it to palm at himself, before he put the head right in his mouth. Rhoam’s breath hitched, and Kohga loved that. Love how he was making a royal so weak. He pushed himself to make more, stopping shy of halfway down his length. It was enough to make Rhoam squirm in his seat, and even put his hand right on top of Kohga’s head. How cute. Kohga groaned as he pushed his head back and forth, really getting a feel for that thick cock. Then he pulled away, nice and slowly, drool still connecting them. 

"Why did you-"

"You were about to cum. I could tell. I want this to be REALLY good for you, so you're going to wait."

"I DEMAND you-"

He was halted when Kohga took a hold of his balls. Nothing too hard, just enough to get him to shut up.

"No no no. You don't get that attitude with me. You rule Hyrule, I rule your cock. I decide when you cum. And because you wanna act up, you get a punishment. Look at me."

Rhoam looked, despite not wanting to, at all. Kohga kept massaging him, tediously and slowly.

"You wanna cum? You wanna shoot your load down my pretty throat? You gotta ask for it like a grown up. No tantrums. Go on. Ask."

Rhoam clearly didn't want to, but Kohga’s lips (and throat) was a blessing, not a right. So he sighed, and made himself obey.

"I...would like to orgasm-"

"Try again. Cum. Make me WANT it."

Rhoam swallowed, before trying again.

"I would...like to cum. In your mouth."

"There we go, much better. Knew you could be a polite boy."

He took a minute to suckle at his balls, really coating them in drool, before taking Rhoam fully in his mouth. That's right, every bit of that royal cock found it's way into his mouth, and Kohga gagged. It was intentional, and it made Rhoam moan desperately. So close. Kohga wasted no more time, and acted like the perfect dick sucker he knew he was.

Kohga was relentless. He groaned loudly as he bobbed his head back and forth, practically fucking his own mouth from the force. Rhoam was really getting into it now, cursing and panting under his breath, especially when Kohga pulled away to aggressively suck at his tip. Kohga was absolutely, and positively cock hungry, and he wasn’t afraid at all to show it. Kohga slurped, and gagged, slurped and gagged, grumbling as if he was an animal, greedy for the chance of tasting cum. Then he got it.

King Rhoam came, and Kohga gulped it down, only pulling away to smear it against his throbbing length. It was a big load, just how he thought it'd be. Ribbons and ribbons of cum littered their clothes, the floor, and the insides of his stomach. He pulled away once he knew no more would be cumming, feeling no more reason to. King Rhoam was a SIGHT to behold. A shaking, panting, cum covered mess. Kohga chuckled, taking a quick second to clean up. A good cock sucker could clean himself up in a flash, as if nothing ever happened. He stood back up, pulling King Rhoam’s face by his beard, and he kissed him. Not because he liked him, nor did he think he was cute. It was because there was something humiliating about making the King himself, taste his own load. He pulled away, wiping his lips, and putting his mask right back down. He could see that little bit of cum on his lips, and it was so goddamn funny to him.

“Glad we had this little chit chat, Kingy wingy. You ever need to get a load of your chest, you know who to send for. Though, I don’t do anything for free. Can I take the chair?”

Rhoam just sat there, looking bewildered, before he gently nodded. Kohga clapped his hands a bit, grabbing the chair, and giving Rhoam a little bit of a wave. He managed to meet up with Sooga and the Blade master, who didn’t even get to say hello before he made them carry the chair he was holding. Sooga looked at it curiously, turning to Kohga.

“Are we stealing this?”

“Nope! Said I could have it! It’s a real nice chair.”

“Why would he give it to you?”

“We had a nice long chat. Wasn’t something I saw...comin’”

Kohga grinned behind his mask. He was an absolute STUD, no doubts about that.

[touchingoldmagic]

Day 24 - Jillian Holtzmann Being Weird

Day 24 of the 30 Day Ghostbusters Challenge!

Author’s Notes: Takes place after the Crossing Over storyline of the comics. Warnings for Ron's use of language, as usual. Mentions Ron x Bryan.

"What are you doing here!?" Bryan Welsh blurted out, then immediately looked contrite. "Er, I'm sorry! I didn't mean--"

Jillian didn't seem to take offense. "Hello, Windy City!" she said by way of introduction. Bryan was standing behind the front desk at the Chicago Ghostbusters HQ. She reached across the desk and shook his hand. "Jillian Holtzmann. I think we met briefly while keeping the multiverse from collapsing. Please, don't trouble yourself remembering who put that little ball in motion. Ha."

Bryan still looked a little dazed and turned to their administrative manager, Kim, for help. She was seated at the desk, studiously typing up a report on their last case and staying out of the entire conversation.

Bryan hated when he had to awkwardly look for words. "Yes, ah, Dr. Holtzmann, I remember you. I--we didn't expect--aren't you from another dimension?"

Kim raised her eyebrows almost to her hairline but did not look up from her keyboard.

"I'm here for a visit. It's scientific. Perfectly legal. Mostly. Besides, I have a chaperone." The blond physicist hooked an arm around the smaller woman who had entered the building with her.

"I'm not a chaperone," Kylie grumbled. "I was coming here anyway and she tagged along. There's an estate sale this afternoon downtown, some guy who was a big name in occult studies. I'm here to see if I can pick up some books for the boss."

"Oh, the Pickering Estate?" Bryan asked. "I think Dani was going to go, too. Maybe you two could go together."

Kylie looked surprised. "I didn't know Dani was interested in the research aspect of the biz."

Bryan shrugged. "Well she said we didn't have anyone to do it and we should, and she seems to be taking it pretty seriously so far. Our spare room has two bookshelves full now."

"Oh yeah? Anything good?" To say books were one of Kylie's interests was a bit of an understatement.

Bryan shrugged, looking embarrassed. "Oh, I guess? I dunno, really, but she'll be back from lunch soon and you could ask her."

While the two were talking, Jillian took one careful step backward, then another. Then, seeing as no one had any reaction, she turned and hurried down the hall that led past the front reception area and deeper into the building.

The short hall had three other doors and a stairwell. "Women's intuition is telling meeeeee... this one." Jillian pointed at the first door on the left and pushed it open without knocking.

Inside the small office space was a desktop covered in broken pencils, paperwork, schematics, tools, loose screws, and bits of oily spare parts leaving stains on the desk blotter. Behind the desk was Ron Alexander, feet propped up on a desk drawer that jutted open and hat pulled down low over his face to cover his eyes.

"Boo-yah," Jillian said with satisfaction.

Ron looked up. "Oh fuck, you," he sighed in recognition.

"I decline," Jillian returned immediately, making Ron look confused for a moment, but she continued before he could get a word in. "Thought I'd stop by and say hi. Nice city. So how're you doing, Ronny?"

"Call me that again and I'll kick your ass."

"Great. Listen, Ronny," Jillian plowed on without pausing for breath. "You remember anything about the thing in New York? I mean, obviously you do. We both do. But the details? The notes we scribbled all over the walls of your friend's place during the planning stages? Remember any of that? Anything specific?"

Ron put his feet down and sat up, as it seemed getting the talkative blond out of his office wasn't going to be as easy as just ignoring her. "Nope."

"Me either." Jillian tipped her head and narrowed her eyes at the wall over Ron's head. He didn't have anything hanging there, so he assumed she was thinking about something. Though with her it was hard to tell. "It's possible rapid and multiple crossing of dimensions might impair localization of long-term memory or something," she admitted.

"Or something," Ron muttered, a lot more suspicious than the physicist, and therefore a lot quicker to jump to conclusions. "I have a feeling those losers in New York had something to do with it."

"Those are my friends," Jillian pointed out in a careful tone (which was interesting to hear, as she hardly ever sounded careful in her life).

"I was talking about the ones with dicks," Ron said.

Jillian considered that for a moment. "Those ones are also my friends," she decided.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Look, I don't remember shit and the notes are gone, so that's it. I don't even care, it was more trouble than it's worth. I'm not jumping through hoops again the next time the universes decide to collapse. Or spending another week in the hospital." His hand reflexively went to his chest and then he quickly put his hand down at his side again. "So if that's it feel free to leave, and don't let the door smack you on the ass on your way out."

"Wasn't here for that," Jillian insisted. "Just curious. My plane's not leaving 'til tonight. We've got time. We could get lunch." Jillian warmed up to this idea and her speech sped up. "In fact, we should all go. That lady at the front desk looked like she could use a breadstick. Possibly two."

The idea of spending several more hours with Jillian Holtzmann, when she wasn't distracted by complex equations and jury-rigged machinery, was a terrifying one. "And why would we do that?"

The physicist looked honestly perplexed. Her team ate lunch together all the time, she honestly couldn't picture it any other way. "Uh? Team building? Group bonding? Sharing unlimited soup and salads at Olive Garden? We could make it a lunch date. You're dating the jittery one out front with the little upturned nose, right?"

Ron sucked in a breath so quick it triggered a coughing fit. "WHAT?" he gasped out as he fought for air.

"He's cute, I mean, I assume." Jillian shrugged. "What, is workplace fun not allowed? No worries, your secret's safe with me. Unless you have something I want, then I'm going to blackmail you. Ha."

Ron stood up and pointed a finger at her. "Listen here you little b--"

"Anyway! This is for you." Jillian all but bounced forward, leaned across his desk, and dropped something onto Ron's outstretched index finger, still pointing in her direction. Ron froze and stared at it. Gingerly, he lifted it off his finger and turned it around.

It was a baseball cap. Dark blue in color, and on the front, embroidered in white, was the letter U with a nail going through it.

Ron looked at the hat, then raised his eyes to look at the pendant hanging from Jillian's neck, then lifted them up to her face. "What," he said succinctly, "the fuck?"

Jillian leaned against the front of Ron's desk with one hip, folding her arms across her chest. "Remember when you said we were friends and I declined?"

Following conversations with Jillian Holtzmann was like programming code. It gave him a headache. "No. I think I said we hit it off and you said 'eh.'"

"Right, look, Ronny, I've been thinking." She ignored his growl. "What I said before, about how I didn't really click with anyone until Abby and Erin and Patty and Kevin? I've been thinking that searching through an infinite number of dimensions for people who think like me was a bad idea. Not that it's not cool to meet alternate me's. Especially hot secret agent alternate me's." Ron's lip curled in disgust. "Anyway," she continued, "I think maybe instead of being so focused on finding people like me, I'm gonna work harder to be friends with people who are different. And we did make a pretty good team."

Ron snorted. "Dunno about that," he said, but he leaned over and placed the cap in the desk drawer that he'd been using to prop up his feet before she came in, and slid the drawer closed.

Then he straightened and leveled her with a look. "We're not going to the damn Olive Garden. I have standards. And I'm not paying for your lunch."

Jillian gave a hiss of triumph and launched herself toward the door, eager to start in on convincing the cute secretary to come to lunch with them. "Wouldn't dream of it, Ronny. I can't wait to inflict chaos on your economic structure by slipping some alternate dimension currency into the system. Mwa ha ha. You have President Downey Jr. on your twenty dollar bills, right? Kidding! Or am I?"

"Holtzmann," Ron said.

She stopped short of the door, leaned back on her heels and pivoted around to face him. "Hmm?"

"How did you know? About...?" He tilted his head toward the door, indicating the front of the building.

Jillian smirked. "Didn't. Guessed. Your freak out was telling. Also you have a little doodle of a ghost on the corner of your desk and you don't seem like the doodling type."

Ron looked down at his desk and cursed and Jillian slipped out into the hall to wrangle up the Chicago Ghostbusters for lunch.

[pxjiminsi]

First Encounter

Chapter 1 from the series: Before you Go

Pairing: Jimin x reader, Taehyung x reader, Jin x OC, OT5 x reader platonic love

Fic Type: Slice of life au

Genre: slice of life, fluff, mild smut, and a healthy amount of angst

Warning: few cuss words

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: Hi! This will be my first BTS Au in tumblr, I’ll be also uploading my old works here! Friendly comments and criticism from my fellow writers and readers as I want to improve my writing further on. I hope you enjoy my series.

"This is exactly what I needed" sighing to yourself while handing your boarding pass to the flight attendant. Realizing that after a year of Architecture school and a whole lot of failing, a getaway is what you needed. 

It's not like you don't try and don't study hard enough. Architecture interests you, you just think that you're not good enough in doing anything, not school, not singing, not dancing, nothing. Talentless. Jack of all trades, master of none, as they say. On top of failing Architecture school, going to this unplanned and impulsive decision to go to L.A is your parents' disappointment and your very romantic boyfriend who couldn't seem to care less where you go and end up. 

You don't even think if he knows how long you're leaving even if you had mentioned it to him a hundred times before, but he never looked away from the TV to give any response. "Fucking Diablo" scoffing as you struggle and push your embarrassingly large neon pink luggage in the compartment. "crap, I can't do shit" deeply breathing to avoid having a breakdown because of your stupid arm strength. 

Until this boy wearing a white shirt, black shorts, and a black snapback who is relatively annoyed because you were in his and his group’s way, easily picks up your luggage and shoves it into the compartment like it was nothing. His muscular and vein bulging arms left you dumbfounded to his sudden appearance, smirking while he comfortably sits next to yours.

What a prick, you thought. At the same time, you knew he's just being nice and you're the asshole for having a bad mood and attitude problems. 

It's a 13-hour flight from Korea to L.A and you try your best to shake your mind off of things that remind you of anything back home. "It's only half a year, I deserve this. Even if I have to start providing for myself, as long as I’m happy." you try to convince yourself as the plane starts to take off. 

It’s been 2 hours since the flight took off and you’ve been nothing but restless. You tried resting your head on the windowpane but you can’t help yourself be intoxicated by the asshole guy next to you, his ripped arm covers the whole armrest and you’re not even complaining. His head rested back in his seat and tilting to the side, cheeks were slightly flushed due to the cold air, his scent is so alluring, he smells like fresh and soft blankets that cover you on a rainy day. You can instantly fall asleep in his arms if not it being inappropriate and if you weren’t in a relationship. For God sakes y/n you have a boyfriend back home, internally screaming. 

His eyes opened as he seemed to notice your restlessness, shifting from one position to another. “Are you okay? Was I snoring?” You want to say that no, he was fine, that he should continue sleeping. Feeling guilty for creepily glancing in his face. “No, you’re perfect, it’s just my first time being this far away from home. Sorry, I woke you.”  pulling a fake smile not believing you just called him perfect. 

He then gave the most amazing eye smile, because you called him attractive and said “It’s okay I can’t sleep that deep either, it’s also my first time being away, but for training, we’re kind of a boy group back home.” You were not that interested in boy groups back then, but the way he talks with that grin on his face, listening to him all night might not be bad. “I’m Y/n”  finally having the guts to introduce yourself. “Yeah I know, I saw your name in your luggage tag, I’m Park Jimin” You were surprised at how fast he saw your name while helping earlier. Was he curious about you as you were of him? 

You began to ask him questions to get around your awkward first impression. He began telling how he was originally from Busan as a contemporary dance student and how he transferred to Seoul to finish High school and train with his group. He even showed his audition tape 5 years ago. You can’t believe how he bulked up so much since then, and they just debuted 3 years ago. He also introduced his friends in the seats up front, Taehyung and Jeongguk who just both nodded at you and went back to sleep. He stated that other members were separated due to booking problems. “So what about you, Y/n, what’s your story?” He asked, putting his left knuckle under his jaw ready to listen. 

You breathe deeply hesitating to let him partake at telling your sad backstory, not wanting to dim the mood, but he has this spirit that screams comfort. That whatever you tell him, he’s not going to show pity and judgment. His eyes are so deep in yours as you start to speak. “Well, I kind of ran away from home. Needing to breathe, pausing to trail his reaction testing the waters but he gave nothing but fascination on your story. “Honestly, I don’t know what I am doing here on this plane to L.A. I’m trying to find what I want to do in my life, if I want to continue my Architecture program, If I’m making right decisions, or If what I’m feeling right now full of uncertainty and fear is what I’ll feel for the rest of my life” you start to stutter, feeling panicky all of the sudden because It’s the first time you spoke out all your doubts and what-ifs. 

“Sounds cliché sure, but I know for sure I will not find answers back home. So here I am.”  laughing lightly to prevent creating a dark cloud around with your pathetic stories. Eyes wide open he said “I can’t imagine being brave as you, you are amazing. I hope I can be adventurous like this.” He pushes his hair back as he leans more towards you wanting to hear more. 

Brave? Adventurous? Be like me? Those were not the words you usually describe yourself. Dumb, careless, and worthless were the words you heard people describe you all your life. You quickly backed away with a hand in your chest as he leaned in, not wanting him to realize that a stranger made your heart flutter. 

Who the hell is this guy?

He probably felt he crossed his boundary from your reaction as he backed away feeling embarrassed. Regretting your reaction, you break the ice asking him if he wants to watch a movie instead. He smiled, happy that he didn’t ruin this nice thing that’s happening. 

A Walk to Remember started playing, a movie you both had already watched but will always be one of your favorites. Halfway through the movie, you notice that you’re the one he’s watching, discreetly, of course, his eyes tracing features from your eyes, the bridge of your nose, to your lips, and your exposed neck and collarbone. You can feel he’s trying to get a grip of himself for wanting to kiss you. You did the same thing to him when he’s the one watching. How can anyone not stare at his features. His perfectly brushed hair, almond-shaped eyes, cute, pointy nose, and oh god how can you start describing the most beautiful pouty lips and sharp jawline.

At some point in the movie, he begins to shake his head and blink his eyes trying to shake off his drowsiness. “You can sleep, you know. You’re not obligated to watch this with me,” you said not leaving your eyes off the screen to avoid eye contact. “No, I like having someone I can talk to and spend time comfortably. it’s been a while since I had a friend other than my members.” 

You unintentionally pout.

‘Friend’

Yeah right, you didn’t know why you’re so disappointed hearing that when you’re not single and you just freaking met. 

Realizing that what he said made your eyes drop suddenly, a small smile forms in the corners of his mouth as he gently uses his finger to lift your chin. It felt like time slowed down when both of you met each other’s eyes. You bite your lip and fix your eyes on the screen quickly resisting the urge to kiss him, trying to calm all this sexual tension you both had ever since the plane took off. You have no idea what he was thinking, but you can feel his stare on the side of your face. You offered to finish the movie avoiding his stare as you plug the earpiece on, handing him his. He grins as if he’s proud he made you pout and flustered. 

After a while, all that sexual tension was long forgotten as you made fun of each other for crying after the movie. You also helped each other by stuffing your faces with provided snacks while watching their music videos. Seeing him dance so passionately makes him a hundred times more attractive, and you’re already a hundred percent attracted to him. Jeongguk and Taehyung also woke up and introduced themselves properly this time. Jimin describes Jeongguk and Taehyung as the most playful members of their group, probably because they were the youngest. He shared that the other members were anxious about how Jeongguk continues to grow, scared that one day he’ll be the tallest one and forgetting he has Hyungs, but they’ll love him nonetheless. Taehyung on the other hand is only a few months younger than Jimin and they’ve been friends since Jimin moved to Seoul enrolling in the same school as Tae. 

Jeongguk and Taehyung were perplexed at how the two of you became this close in a short amount of time seeing how you two laughed regardless of how many times the flight attendant looked sternly at the both of you. Steering clear of the chaos, they proceeded to eat and play video games. You and Jimin shared earphones finally settling down to listen to his favorite tracks on his phone. Having no sleep the whole flight, after a while you doze off to his shoulders. “How beautiful” he whispered as he bit his lip from wanting to smile so much and not wanting to wake you up. 

"Good morning passengers. This is your captain speaking. On behalf of Korean Air and the entire crew, I would like to thank you for joining us on this trip and we are looking forward to seeing you onboard again in the near future. Welcome to L.A"

Jimin wakes you up by brushing your hair away from your face and with a heavy look on his face. “Hey, we’re here” gently whispering. You woke up confused, instantly regretting falling asleep as one of the nights you felt something again has come to an end. “I’m sorry for sleeping on you, you must’ve had a hard time not moving” he stretched for a bit, grinned, and said “It’s nothing, I fell asleep too. Hey I was wondering if --” he was stopped mid-sentence as Taehyung got up in his seat and said “We got to go, Namjoon-hyung’s waiting already outside” He started pulling bags on the compartment “Nice meeting you, Y/n! Please continue to support us in the future.” showing his boxy smile while dragging half-asleep Jeongguk along with their luggage. 

You quickly got up and brushed your way past Jimin, steering clear of eye-contact and the awkward Hey this will be the last time you’ll be seeing me but hey I had an amazing night last night goodbye. You drag your heavy ass luggage, he tried to help you but you wouldn’t let him. “I’ll be going now, good luck with your training, I’ll be cheering for you.” You look at his confused face with a forced smile. Eyes downcast, your heart starts to race as you exit the plane, leaving Jimin at a loss for words. 

You struggle to pull your luggage to the baggage claim for your other bags, almost sprinting to avoid bumping into Jimin and his group. "I hope she's already here" whispering to yourself while sending a message to your best friend and whose house you'll stay in while you get by.

“Y/n!!!!!!” Soo Yun embarrassingly shouts your name as she waves her hands frantically to get your attention. You wanted to sink and place yourself in the baggage conveyor belt and disappear from all the unwanted attention your name was getting. Despite having an embarrassing friend, you run up to her, forgetting your bags and giving her a big hug. Not seeing each other for 5 years was torture as you grew up together from elementary school and halfway through high school. Her family’s decision to move to L.A put a strain on your relationship but thank the millennial gods of social media you both managed to survive. 

She grew her bob already, you noticed. Now having this long hair until his mid-back with her matching bangs. She also wears contacts now as she was made fun of before for wearing nerdy looking glasses. Of course, you were there to save her every time.

“Are your bags ready? The car’s waiting outside, because there are a lot of people on the arrival platform. Did you fly with someone famous?” As she roamed her eyes around the baggage claim area. “No, I don’t think so. I’m ready, I’ll just grab my bags” pretending that the best flight you ever experienced was all a dream. You hurry as people from other flights we’re coming down. You grab your neon pink luggage and dash to your best friend waiting outside. You wonder if it’s the adrenaline of being in a foreign country that your big ass luggage wasn’t too heavy anymore. 

[tcswritings]

Birthday.

The evening of February 6th, 2020. It’s Daryl’s 27th birthday and when Patti picks him up from his work place and hands him a little something before they are going to head off for dinner with their friends, the two can’t avoid to reconsider their feelings for each other.

***

(...)

“Pat?”

Daryl frowned as he recognised the familiar young woman standing in the light of the street lamp, expectantly looking at him with one of her most adorable smiles.

To say that he was surprised to see her here was an understatement.

It was definitely a nice surprise, though. Patti looked simply radiant (she even would if she wasn’t waiting in the literal spotlight) and Daryl needed a moment to recollect himself before he eventually put on his jacket and walked over to where his friend was waiting for him.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he called as he walked towards her.

“Well, I thought it would be nice if I picked you up from work. I mean, since it’s your birthday and all.” Patti smiled and she gave him a hug once he was close enough. When they broke apart, Daryl looked at her and frowned.

“By public transport?”

“What?”

“You came all the way here by public transport, knowing that I have a car and could get home all by myself?” Daryl laughed. “Gosh, you’re cute.”

“Who said I came here by public transport?”

“Yeah, uh, well, what other option do you have?”

“Some shady, greasy, criminal-looking guy offered me a ride in his fucked up car earlier, how could I let that opportunity pass?” Patti answered nonchalantly.

Daryl was so used to her occasional deadpan remarks by now that he didn’t even bat an eye at this newest creation of hers.

“Ah, fair enough. Was it fun?”

“Of course! Girls love a good car ride with a sweaty, stinky picture book criminal. Too bad he was on the run and couldn’t stay.”

“Aw, don’t worry. If it’s meant to be, you’ll meet him again.”

Patti chuckled as she watched Daryl fumbling for his car keys in the pocket of his jeans. When he found them, he nodded towards the parking space.

“Shall we then?” he suggested. “The others should be at the pub soon-”

“Wait!” Patti held him back. “Well, the actual reason I came here to pick you up is that I got you a little something.”

“What? You got me something? As in...”

“As in ‘a gift’, silly! And I’d prefer if you opened mine before we go and see the others. They’re always so weird about these things, y’know.”

“Pat, what- why?”

“Aw, like it’s big news that people who have birthdays get gifts? Come over here, c’mon!” Patti grabbed Daryl by the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him over to the little wall that isolated the parking space from the university ground.

“I know?” Daryl uttered as he got dragged along. “I just didn’t expect anything, I’m not really a gift guy. Honestly, you shouldn’t have!”

“Too late.” Patti laughed. As they reached the wall, she hopped on it and Daryl did the same, taking up the space right next to her. “Besides, it’s really just a small thing, don’t get all too excited.”

She opened her bag and pulled out a flat package wrapped in shiny black paper, with a black ribbon and a grey paper tag on top of it. Daryl took a closer look at the tag - it said “Happy Birthday” in fancy black letters and he could tell it was lettered by hand. For a moment he deeply admired Patti’s craftmanship. He didn’t even know what was inside the package yet but he already loved the outside enough to feel really touched.

“I didn’t get you anything back then?” he merely said, never taking his eyes off the pretty gift.

“My birthday was half a year ago and we didn’t talk as much then as we do now, right? Just open it, it’s fine, I felt like it.” she encouraged him, scooting a little closer.

“Alright, here we go.” Daryl said with a chuckle and gently took the package out of her hands. He started picking at a piece of tape and as Patti watched him nervously as he carefully pried the wrapping paper open. Once he was done, she swiftly snatched the paper out of his hands so he could properly study his gift.

“Wow, what?”

Daryl briefly looked up at his friend, his lips parted in surprise, before he looked back down at the old and slightly tattered book in his hands. He looked at the cover for a few moments before he opened it and studied the first page carefully, eventually letting out a perplexed little laugh.

“You mentioned it a while ago.” Patti said, breaking the silence. “That it’s one of your favourites, and that you lost your copy recently.”

“It’s the first edition, and it’s signed! Pat, that’s incredible!”

“Yeah, I found it online last week, while I was browsing this website that buys and sells used books, and I remembered - I mean - it’s nothing, really-”

“It’s not nothing. It’s one of the coolest things someone ever gave me.” Daryl breathed out and Patti couldn’t remember a single time when she had seen him having such a genuine and honest reaction of joy.

“I’m afraid it has some stains, though.” Patti grimaced.

“Oh, mine looked worse, actually.” he laughed as he skimmed through the book’s pages. “I accidentally drowned it in my bathtub once and it was still wet in parts when I tried to press it back into it’s old shape so some of the edges just stuck together… and it was really just a big mess.”

“Wow, that poor book.”

“What can I say, I’m a klutz.”

“Looks like it.” she smiled.

Daryl smiled back and a moment later, without thinking too much about it, he leaned in for a kiss and Patti didn’t seem surprised at all, as she kissed him back without hesitation, as if it as the most natural thing for them to do.

The kiss wasn’t a long one, but it was very sweet and gentle and it felt very, very right.

“Thank you.” Daryl said once they parted, his face still close to hers. “I really love this, it’s great!”

“I’m glad.” Patti smiled against his lips, giving him one last peck before she pulled herself back. “To be honest, I was a little nervous.”

“Why?”

“I dunno, I just felt a little silly all of a sudden. I was pretty excited when I found the book last week, because I instantly thought of you and… I guess that just threw me off guard a bit?” She paused. “And when I came here earlier I was really close to freaking out, I thought you might find it… well, weird. It was too late to back out, though, you had already seen me.”

“Why would I find it weird? It’s a thoughtful present!”

“That’s exactly my point!” Patti sighed. “I usually don’t care as much, I either just buy people chocolate or give them money. I’m not very creative when it comes to making gifts. And now I came all the way here, with a personal gift... I thought you might, well... read something into the situation.”

Daryl let out a faint laugh and once again looked at the book in his hands, stroking along it’s spine with his thumb and biting his lip.

“I don't.” he eventually said and looked back up at her. “I mean, not if you don’t want to. By the way, I, uhm, didn’t mean to-” he pointed at his upper lip with his finger, “- I mean, I did but it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“Just like New Year didn’t mean anything?” Patti asked.

Daryl merely shrugged.

“So you… don’t want it to mean anything. Neither New Year nor... today.” She fixated him with curious eyes.

“That’s not what I said!” 

It was Patti’s turn to be surprised now.

“Come again?!” she breathed out.

“No! I want it to- I mean, I don’t know. Pat, I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know... what exactly?” Patti pried, keen on making sure that she really understood what Daryl was trying to imply.

“I don’t know.” he sighed. “Things went right back to normal after New Year and I had everything in order, I mean, at least that’s what I thought, and now you show up here, looking like you do, and you give me this and, uhm, I’m not so sure anymore if I really have it all in order.”

“Uhm, what are you even trying to say?”

“Ah, I don’t know. Really, just forget it.”

“Daryl.” Patti playfully rolled her eyes and Daryl realised that she wouldn’t let him get away with some lame explanation or none explanation at all.

He figured that he could as well as just say it and so he took a deep breath.

“You, uh, may have turned my head a little.”

“A little?!” Patti blurted out. “You’re stammering like an insecure school boy!”

“Wow, as if I don’t feel stupid enough already.” Daryl playfully nudged her arm with his.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it.” Patti laughed but then she apparently remembered what this moment was about. “Wow. So.”

“So.”

“I mean, the book and my showing-up-here already kinda gave it away... that I feel the same about you and... I mean, I’m not asking anything of you here but maybe we should-” she stopped as she saw the expression on Daryl’s face. He looked... uncomfortable? Agonised? She couldn’t figure it out but it sure made her heart a little heavy. “What? What is it?”

“I don’t know how to say this.”

“Oh man.” A bitter smile flashed over Patti’s face. “Alright. You don’t need to say it, okay? You don’t want a relationship. I mean, that’s cool? Even though I’m not even asking you to have one right away... I just thought that we could at least talk about what to do about all this.”

“No, I wanna say something?”

“That you’re not good enough, that I deserve better and that you don’t want to-”

“Pat, please. Just listen?” Daryl begged.

Patti pressed her lips into a thin line and gave him a quick nod. “Okay, I’ll listen.”

“Great. Okay, so, I don’t know how much you know from Orla already. About what happened when she dumped Mick all those years ago.”

“I don’t know a whole lot about it, only that it was, well, difficult for a while.”

“Oh wow, did she say that?” Daryl scoffed. “Well, she’s either suffering from fuckin’ memory loss or she took the art of sugarcoating to an entirely new level here.”

“What do you mean?” Patti brushed a lost strand of hair behind her ear as she listened curiously to what Daryl had to say.

“It was an outright war between those two. It was horrible and it was exhausting, for all of us.”

“Yeeeaaah, but... that’s what happens sometimes, when a couple splits. Both parties get bitter and cranky. And... I mean, Orla and Mick patched things up, right?”

“Yeah, they did, but you don’t know what it took them... what it took all of us to even remotely get there.”

“Okay, but why is this even relevant? We’re not Orla and Mick. I mean, sure it was hard for them? They took that giant leap of faith and did the friends to lovers thing and that alone takes a lot of courage! ... I mean, it’s normal that they couldn’t go back to being friends just like that but they made it!”

Patti’s voice had a vehement tone now; she was obviously trying to make a point, to prove that Daryl was worried for no greater reason. “Besides, they were, like, what? Twenty? They were practically kids, and... I mean, they’re still Orla and Mick, after all.”

Daryl smiled as he shifted a bit on the spot. He then cleared his throat. “What if they hadn’t made it, though? They would have lost each other for good, maybe. I don’t know if they would’ve gotten over that.”

“... eventually, maybe? I dunno, it’s pointless to even think about that, knowing that things went well for them.”

“I dunno, maybe, but I can’t help it.”

“Gosh, Daryl.” Patti let out a laugh. “If everyone thought about possible bad outcomes right away, before even trying a thing, no one ever would try anything. Ever. What a horrible thought, really.”

“Pat, I’m not saying that I don’t like the thought of being with you, alright?”

“Alright, okay. What are you saying, then?”

“I really, really enjoyed these last months with you.”

“Well, so did I!” Patti agreed.

“No, honestly. I can’t recall spending so much time with anyone else but Ryan and he’s my former best friend from school.”

“Yeah, I know Ryan and that he was your best friend.” Patti sounded impatient now and Daryl could almost hear the hissed little “What are you even getting at?” in his head.

“I know you know him, my point is that it was kind of a given to spend so much time together. We saw each other pretty much any other day until graduation. And I love hanging out with Declan, Mick and Orla and the others at any time, too, but it’s a little different with you.”

“How’s it different with me?”

“I’ve known the others for ages, I don’t wanna miss them again and I know I won’t have to. Then you appeared and you could have just tagged along occasionally, as ‘that one friend of Orla’ or something, but I decided to make room for you, just because I like you that much and I don’t do that too often. Not because of some dumb loner reason but simply because it’s fucking hard to keep up with even only a handful of friends once you get older.”

Obviously feeling relieved about not being plain rejected, Patti couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh now. “Oh god, I know! All of a sudden we’re grown ups and have so much stuff to do. Honestly, I’m just tired most of the time!”

“Yeah, so am I! Hell, I’m tired now but when you’re around I usually at least forget about it.”

“Wow.” Patti breathed out, now overwhelmed by the meaning of Daryl’s words.

“Yeah. I mean, I was sceptic at first-”

“Huh. Like I don’t remember.”

“Yeah, but then you turned out to be one of the coolest people I ever met and... man, I don’t wanna miss you again, Pat. I like you. I really do. You’re funny and smart and... and bold... and I’d hate to see this blow apart just because I can’t keep my fuckin’ pants on.”

“You phrased that really beautifully, McKenna.”

“Honestly, you don’t know what it takes me to keep them on right now.”

“Well, I’m not telling you to keep them on?” Patti snickered.

“Okay, I will so remember you said that.” Daryl laughed. “No, Pat... guess all I’m trying to say is ... I dunno. Can we perhaps... just roll with it somehow? Not push it, not give it a name just yet? I dunno, I just wanna make sure that this is not just some weird flash in the pan, alright?”

“Wow, you really talk a lot when you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.” Daryl frowned.

“God, you’re so nervous."

(... to be continued!)

[thorne93]

Stan Lee University (Part 3)

Prompt: What would the Avengers be like in college, more importantly, what would they be like if Y/N existed around them?

Word Count: 1912

Warnings: drama, language, betrayal

Notes: This is based on a HC from @carryonmyswansong. They helped brainstorm and write part of this series. In this AU, no one will have powers, everyone is a normal human. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​

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

The rest of the week went pretty smooth. You were trying to make sure all of your schedules and things lined up. On Friday you had physics lab so you were with Tony, Bruce, and Stephen again.

Just as lab got started, you got the invitation out of your backpack and handed it to Stephen.

“Hey, wanted to give you this before I forgot. No pressure or anything. If you don’t want to meet up, that’s cool. But we do have free pizza and drinks so, if you don’t come for anything else…” you joked, laughing slightly.

You weren’t sure why you were trying so hard to get this guy to like you, you just really needed him to.

“Stop trying to recruit people, Y/N. It’s like you’re a cult leader,” Tony remarked, shuddering slightly as he help set up the experiment.

“I’m not a cult leader because I want people to join a fun club, how is that a cult?”

“Do you offer food and drink?” Bruce asked.

“Yes, I just said that but--”

“Do you insist they meet up every chance they get?” Tony inquired.

“Well, once a month is mandatory, but we try to go to as many events as we can--”

“Do you stand there and tell people why you’re better than everyone else and how everyone else won’t make it in life if they don’t join you?”

You glared at them before turning back to your lab. You mumbled, “Fuck you two.”

This made Bruce and Tony slightly snicker as Stephen looked at the invite.

“I'll join your cult. I wasn’t involved much at my old school, but I’d like to be here,” he explained, with a warm grin at you.

You smiled over at him. “Well thank you for joining our cult--I mean, club.” You shot a playful smile at Tony and Bruce who merely shook their heads.

------------------------

Around 6:30 you got a text from Natasha to the huge group chat you all shared. She wanted to see if anyone would be up for getting together for coffee at the cafe on campus. After a pretty stressful and busy week, you jumped at the chance.

Nat would be there, of course, and Clint. She and Clint had started dating senior year of highschool and had a pretty strong bond, never broke up once and very rarely ever fought. Wanda and her brother Pietro chimed in and said they would come. Surprisingly, T’Challa agreed as well. Bucky and Steve said they were on their way over. Sam would come as soon as his class was out, and the rest said they just wanted to catch up on some sleep before studying tomorrow.

For a split second, you wondered if you should do the same, but then you realized that you worked really hard all week, every night, and that you needed a break or you would burn out.

You grabbed your bag and dashed out of your dorm, over a few buildings to the cafe. Nat and Clint were already there, cozy in a corner.

“Hey!” you greeted as you came over. You threw your bag down, got your wallet out, and went to order your favorite coffee with a water on the side. As soon as you paid, you ducked back over to the table while Bucky and Steve came inside the cafe, spotting the three of you. They waved and walked over. As soon as everyone got settled in with their drinks, conversation slowly started.

“So how is everyone’s first week?” Wanda wondered as she sipped some tea.

“Awful. You wouldn’t believe--” Pietro started but she cut him off.

“I’ve already heard all of your complaining all week,” she said evenly. “I want to hear someone else’s.”

Wanda and Piet lived off campus, nearby in an apartment together.

Pietro rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair.

“I heard Tony is throwing a party tomorrow night, is anyone going to that?” Steve asked before reaching for his cup.

“Ugh, no. He always gets the drunkest,” Wanda said.

“Isn’t that what makes it fun?” Sam retorted.

“Yeah watching Stark get drunk off his ass is the highlight of all of his gigs,” Bucky said with a smirk and a slight laugh.

“You mean like how you almost stole a cop car the last time you got drunk?” Clint asked.

“I wasn’t going to steal it. I wanted to sit in it because-- you know what, nevermind.”

“Y/N, T’Challa?” Steve asked, pointing to you two.

“I have a lot to do. Don’t really have time for anything like that,” T’Challa said simply. Which made sense, seeing as he was political science major and constantly working on campaigns. Sometimes for his father, other times for his father’s friend. His dad is a Congressman.

“Yeah, me either. I need to get the pre-scripts club shit together. Plus do all my homework from this week,” you explained.

“Oh god, again with the huge life plan!” Bucky exclaimed, teasing as he threw up his hands.

“It wouldn’t hurt you to have a plan, Bucky,” you shot back with a coy smile.

“The only plan I need is how to pass that stupid mechanics class…. Stark said he’d help me but I don’t know…”

“Why don’t you just let him help you?” Nat asked, peering at her friend with one eyebrow cocked.

“Because he’s gonna be a cocky ass about it, and I don’t want that. I can do it on my own.”

“He says as he struggles,” Sam teased.

Bucky waded up a napkin and threw it at him.

“Yeah my art history class seems needlessly tedious,” Wanda informed.

“Oh, who do you have?” Steve asked, seeing as they were both art minors.

“Peterson?”

“Oh, he’s not too bad. Just pay attention to dates and the artist names, that’s pretty much all you need.”

“Thanks,” she said, shooting him a smile.

“Sports?” Natasha asked, prompting all the athletes to talk about their extracurriculars.

“Archery is about to start next week, and I’m fucking stoked,” Clint informed. “I get to train them this year because coach says I’m better than him. I am so ready to make the fresh meat work for it.”

Everyone laughed a little.

“Just go easy on them,” you slightly begged.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh no, they’re in for it. I’m going to build them into the best damn archers in North America.”

“Football practice has been good so far,” Steve stated simply, diverting everyone’s attention. “Mostly got everyone back from last year. We have about three new faces.”

“Oh, speaking of football,” you suddenly said, piping in.

“Hmm?” Steve inquired.

“Thor, do you know him well?”

“Thor? Yeah, he’s pretty good. Honestly I think he should be quarterback, not me, but he’s a pretty good fullback, for now. Why?”

“I met his brother, the theater major? Loki… he’s…”

“Loki?” Clint asked, perplexed. “You mean that weird kid with the black hair and looks like he needs to get out in the sun?”

You laughed slightly. “That’s the one. But he’s really cool, so far. He isn’t anything like Thor, from what I can tell.”

“Sometimes siblings are like that. One is amazing and one is just so-so,” Pietro piped up as he put his elbow on his sister’s shoulder, making her laugh before pushing him off.

“Thor talks about Loki, a little. It’s usually pretty good. What class do you have with him?” Steve wondered.

“Lit. He seems to know his stuff,” you noted.

“Oh no, I know that look,” Nat said with a side smile.

“What look?” you asked, frowning.

“That look you get when intelligence gets you hot.”

“What… what are you talking about?” you stuttered a little as you blushed.

Sam rolled his eyes as he chimed in, “Oh come on, Y/N. We all know you’re a sucker for a big... brain.”

“Really? Then why did she ever date Bucky?” T’Challa asked before a smirk crept onto his face.

His comment made everyone laugh except Bucky who simply said, “Hey!”

“I don’t like him like… that,” you said, realizing you were failing miserable and blushing so much you thought you’d melt the ice in the drinks on the table. “Well… not really…”

“Oooh… So it’s true. I didn’t peg you for a lit major sort of person,” Pietro commented, appraising you.

“I’m not,” you argued a little too fast.

“If we are talking about people we found interesting,” Wanda said, taking the attention off you, “I really like this guy in my history class. His name is Josh and he’s really sweet.”

“There’s a girl named Molly in one of my classes,” Sam added.

“Oh, yeah, I saw her, she’s a real doll,” Steve added, giving his approval.

“I plan on getting her number next week,” Sam informed, a proud smile on his face.

“Well good luck to you two,” you said raising your cup.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. If it’s not this Loki, then who is it?” Natasha pressed.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re being pretty evasive about feelings and crushes tonight. Makes someone wonder if maybe you do have a crush, but we just guessed the wrong guy.”

“I have seen you walk out of your physics class talking to someone, who is that guy?” Bucky inquired.

Your eyes flashed to him, a scolding in your gaze. He was fishing for information that he had no right to.

“He’s… his name is Stephen. He’s a pre-med student. He’s going to come to the club, that’s all I know,” you said innocently.

A small round of “ahs” went around the table.

“That’s it, that’s the guy,” Sam said definitively, earning a nod from just about everyone else.

“What the hell does that mean?” you asked, your voice defensive.

“Face it, Y/N,” Bucky interjected. “You like a certain type.”

“The successful type,” T’Challa said with a nod.

“Yeah, when you aren’t dating Bucky, you date pre-law, pre-pharm, or science majors. You just gravitate towards those type. And with him being pre-med, and you being pre-med…” Steve answered, the idea trailing off.

“You all really think I’m that shallow?” you asked, a bit of teasing shock in your tone.

A resounding “Yes” came in unison your way. With a huff you shook your head, rolled your eyes, and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Okay, so I have a type, does that make me a bad person?”

“No one said it made you a bad person,” Sam lightly corrected. “We just know you… and your type happen to be the success type.”

“And that’s a bad thing? Should I aim for a guy that his goals peak at landing a retail gig?”

“No… we’re just saying when it comes to guys, you don’t follow your heart,” Natasha softly said.

“Yeah, she follows their wallet,” Pietro noted with a snicker before Wanda smacked his arm, hard.

“All we’re saying is that you have a certain plan, and life, set in your mind and that’s what you go after,” Wanda stated gently.

After a moment, you nodded and talk began circling around shitty professors, as well as really good ones. People offered tips where they could for professor’s they’d already taken. The rest of the night was relatively smooth, but you couldn’t get over what your friends had said. Were they right? Did you really gravitate only towards the “serious” professionals? If so, why were you that shallow?

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

Forever Tag List

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Loki Odinson

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SLU

@eagleandthebutterfly​

[notcaycepollard]

those screengrabs from dear white people w/ tessa thompson you just reblogged are sam & bucky in a college au

WOW YOU ARE NOT WRONG

It’s not that Bucky thinks Steve’s roommate is a dick, or anything. Hell, he seems like a good guy, especially given he’s helped Steve rescue Bucky from misguided decisions and poorly thought through situations at least three times. Four if you count the time Steve and Sam got into a fistfight with the president of Hydra Kappa Phi while Bucky was throwing up in the frat house bathroom in nothing but his underwear and some silver body paint. And yeah, Sam’s probably got more than enough reason to hate Bucky now, given that whole thing ended with Bucky puking on Wilson’s shoes while weakly insisting that it wasn’t hazing, the frat was totally cool, he was gonna keep pledging like it was his damn mission. Once you throw up on someone’s shoes, Bucky thinks, you’re probably not gonna be cool with each other. 

It’s just. It’s just, if he’s being truthful, Sam Wilson is super fucking great, the kind of great that’d make you spit if he weren’t also such a nice fucking person. It’s not enough that he’d got the 4.0 GPA and double major in psych and polsci and fuckin’ track scholarship, he’s gotta go and be the kind of person who runs the LGBT students’ association and volunteers down at the VA for extra counselling experience, and on top of all that he’s really goddamn beautiful. Bucky’d already noticed him before the whole Hydra Kappa Phi debacle, had furtively checked him out across their mutual Eng 201 class, but he’d really noticed Sam was beautiful, had gotten up close with the curl of his lashes and his smooth brown skin, about the same time he was heaving the last quarter of a forty of grain alcohol all over Wilson’s nice white sneakers, and ever since then, well. 

He’d woken up the next morning feeling like something unutterably terrible had happened to him, squinted at his surroundings—Steve’s suite bathroom floor, cool—and staggered into their room, wondering if maybe he was dying or maybe had in fact already died and was just a shambling corpse, and Sam fuckin’ Wilson had glanced over at him, scowled a little, said man, you owe me some new kicks, and Bucky had thought, bleakly: well, fuck me.

Ever since then they’ve kind of maintained an awkwardly distant relationship, Steve’s two best friends who don’t quite get along, and now it’s like six years later and Bucky knows Sam Wilson is a good guy, more than just a good guy but someone who Bucky’s accidentally kind of fallen way too deep for even as Sam politely but barely acknowledges his existence. Bucky wants to mend that bridge, smooth it all over, say hey how about we forget what a fuckin’ disaster I was in undergrad, we’re adults now, let’s start fresh, and then maybe, how about we get a drink sometime, but it all, when Bucky’s being bleakly honest with himself, seems more than a little like an entirely lost cause.

He’s sitting in Steve’s office one evening, waiting for him to finish grading; honestly the TA offices are more like depressingly tiny cubicles than actual offices but it’s a better spot than the grad lounge if only because the couch doesn’t feel too gross to sit on, so Bucky’s got his laptop out, is working on his Comparative Lit paper while he waits. He pulls up iTunes to switch albums, notices something odd in his Mac library.

FALCON, it says, and Bucky clicks on it, because Dostoevsky is fine but he’s been working on this paper for about three thousand hours, and someone clearly hasn’t turned off their Mac library sharing permissions.

It’s Sam Wilson’s music library. Bucky figures it out pretty quickly—Janelle Monáe, Vince Staples, Kendrick Lamar and Frank Ocean, Sam’s got as good taste in music as everything else. There’s a bunch of Belle and Sebastian and Camera Obscura which Bucky’s willing to bet is something Steve passed on and Sam politely listened to once before forgetting it exists, a bit of Marvin Gaye, and Bucky scrolls through, tries out Erykah Badu, a little Anderson .Paak. And then he spots it, right at the bottom, like Sam’s trying to hide it even from himself.

“Oh my god,” Bucky mutters to himself, gleeful. “Oh my god.”

“Hmm?” Steve asks, distracted from his class’s papers on fuckin’ mid-century American politics or whatever it is Steve’s tutoring this semester, and Bucky shakes his head, waves Steve off. 

“Oh my god,” he whispers again. Pulls up a browser window, runs a search, looks at his bank account. Fuck, this is— it’s stupid, he doesn’t really have the money, his savings are low and his grad stipend’s gotta last for another month, but it’s too good an opportunity, and before Bucky really thinks about it, he’s clicked book now.

He goes back over to the TA offices the next day when he knows Steve’s got a three-hour lecture across campus. Knocks on the door of Sam’s cubicle, and Sam looks up from his trauma psych notes, squints at Bucky through his reading glasses.

“Steve’s not here, man, come back later.”

“No, I know. I, uh. I came to talk to you.”

“To talk to me,” Sam repeats, obviously perplexed, and Bucky shrugs, already regretting everything that’s led him here. Sam gestures at his own couch, slightly less ratty than Steve’s, and Bucky sits down, wipes his palms on his jeans.

“Yeah. Well, I mean. To give you these, actually.” He hands the envelope to Sam before he can make it any damper, clutching it in a sweaty hand, and Sam blinks at it for a minute. “Well, open it,” Bucky says, even more awkward now, and Sam blinks again, opens the envelope and pulls out the tickets.

“What,” he says, flat. Bucky grins. 

“I figured, right, we could go.”

“What,” Sam repeats. Looks from the tickets to Bucky and back again. “Am I hallucinating? Is this a stress dream? Did Maria put her secret study formula in my coffee again to test it out on me?”

“You have a thing for Taylor Swift,” Bucky says, undeterred. Sam shakes his head. “You do. I know because my Mac picked up your music library.”

“No, man, that was from Steve,” Sam tries, “I never even listened to it, it just got added in the last compilation he gave me,” and it’s Bucky’s turn to shake his head.

“It ain’t. You think I don’t know Steve’s music? Besides, he won’t download her, you know he thinks she’s a succubus. And anyway, I checked your number of plays. You’ve listened to 1989 like four thousand times, sweetheart.”

“I cannot believe this,” Sam mutters. “Fuck, I was so careful.”

“You gotta change your privacy settings,” Bucky tells him, magnanimous now. “And you gotta go to Taylor Swift with me.”

“I am not going to Taylor Swift,” Sam says. “With you or otherwise, Barnes.”

“Come on, those cost me almost three hundred bucks,” Bucky says. “I’m gonna have to eat ramen and dining hall coffee for the next month. Besides, who’s gonna know? Nobody will see us. Your cred is safe. Just shake it off, baby.”

“No,” Sam says. “No, Barnes, we’re not doing this.”

“Look what you made me do,” Bucky offers. One corner of Sam’s mouth crooks upward, like he’s willing himself not to smile. “You’re so gorgeous, I can’t say anything to your face.”

“No,” Sam says again, “nuh uh, stop this,” and reaches out, tries to cover Bucky’s mouth with his hand. Bucky grins at him, shifts out of range.

“I’m so furious at you for making me feel this way,” he says, deadpan, and this time Sam flings himself at Bucky, wrestles him down against the couch to press his palm over Bucky’s mouth.

“You are the worst,” he says, glaring at Bucky. “I hate you.” And then he’s grinning outright, leaning in, hissing in Bucky’s ear. “I knew you were trouble when you walked in.”

“It’s a love story,” Bucky says, muffled against Sam’s palm. Grabs Sam’s wrist and pulls his hand away, strokes his thumb over Sam’s warm pulse point; Sam’s in his lap looking furious and aroused and right on the edge of laughter, and Bucky didn’t really think this was possible, but— “Baby,” he says, solemn, “just say yes.”

“Fuck you,” Sam says, with feeling, and slams his mouth against Bucky’s, kissing him hard. “Yes, fine, yes, I’ll go to fucking Taylor Swift with you, my entire life is an embarrassing lie.”

“Uh,” someone says fifteen minutes later, and they quit furiously making out to discover one of Sam’s students standing in his office doorway looking vaguely embarrassed. “I can come back later?”

“I,” Sam says. Clears his throat and visibly tries to pull himself together, which is absolutely fucking unacceptable given that thirty seconds ago Bucky had his mouth on Sam’s throat and Sam had both hands up Bucky’s shirt, and Bucky has been pining over this for like six fucking years.

“Yeah, no, this is a bad time. Come back during his office hours,” Bucky says firmly, getting up to close the door.

“This is my office hours,” Sam says, only a little reproachfully, and Bucky shrugs, locks the door.

[leaves-of-three]

How do you write Connor so well? Could you share some writing tips?

That’s really sweet of you to say. Honestly, it’s just me trying to pick up on every little thing we actually know about Connor and filling in my own interpretations of what they mean. We really don’t know that much about Connor. He’s only in the beginning of the play then throughout you get little snippets of his life from other characters…but it’s not that much to go off of. Even then, it’s how they saw him which can we a warped version of what he actually was. When I’m writing him, I try not to focus on Evan’s Connor because he’s only a projection of Evan’s own self. It’s important to remember that he’s not Connor. He’s Evan. That’s Evan’s mind talking to him using Connor’s face but it’s not Connor himself. He’s not a ghost coming back to talk to this random kid he’s interacted with once or twice. He’s 100% Evan’s mind projecting.

So then you have to focus on what you actually know about him. I’m gonna dissect it because I literally love analyzing characters it’s my favorite thing in the entire world. You didn’t ask for this but I’m doing it anyway yolo (im sorry).

The first time we meet Connor is at the breakfast scene. What do we know about that scene?:

Connor doesn’t want to go to school.

It is the very first day of his senior year. Not many people skip the very first day of school. It’s supposed to be a fairly easy, chill, exciting day to most people. Getting to know your teachers, seeing friends, catching up with people, not much work etc. I’m going off of my own school experience to analyze this bit: Skipping/Not wanting to go/Having anxiety over going doesn’t mean you’re lazy and don’t like work. It generally means that you feel uncomfortable, anxious, lonely, scared about having to navigate the world of school and your peers. Connor doesn’t have friends. Going to school, sitting in class, doing group projects, eating lunch, doing anything in school alone and without friends is fucking hard. It’s awful.  It’s not a surprise he doesn’t want to go.

Connor is high.

Judging from typical school days, it’s probably somewhere between 6 - 7 in the morning. That’s early. That’s someone who wakes up and immediate gets high. AND it’s the first day of school. That’s someone who needs something to help them cope just to get through the day. He needs something to help him take the edge off of life because doing it without anything is a daunting thought.

Cynthia also says “I don’t want you going to school high Connor. We’ve talked about this.” Which implies that this a fairly regular thing for him.

Connor reacts negatively when Zoe speaks but ignores Larry.  

Okay so I love this bit because my psychology loving self adores this kind of shit. It’s amazing and beautifully done and asdlhfal;ksd

After Cynthia tries to get Larry involved with making sure Connor goes to school. Larry says, “What do you want me to do? He doesn’t listen. Look at him. He’s probably high.” Connor stays quiet. Then Zoe confirms Larry’s statement and says, “He’s definitely high.” And Connor responds with a “Fuck you!”

Every time Larry speaks Connor stays quiet. His body language in the scene involves Connor resting his arm on the side of his head and, by doing so, is putting some sort of physical barrier between his facial expressions and his dad sitting next to him.

If I recall correctly, I don’t think Connor ever once actually speaks to his dad??? Larry talks at him but Connor never responds. No words are ever spoken from him to Larry. (I think, I could be wrong)

SO the point here is that Connor doesn’t say shit when Larry is nagging at him but the second Zoe opens her mouth to do the same he immediately responds with a big “fuck you” and puts his head down on the table.

The way I analyze that scene is that the fuck you was really meant for Larry, that he was pissed off at his father, but he took it out on Zoe. He redirected his anger onto his sister because it’s a lot easier to take advantage of a younger sibling then the head of your household.

Judging from how Zoe speaks about him later in the play, he probably redirected a lot of his anger onto her and it really messed her up.

Him not speaking up to Larry could also mean that Connor is potentially afraid of him?

The second time we see Connor is at school with Jared and Evan:

Connor cares what people think about him and he’s bullied. 

Jared says, “Hey Connor. Loving the new hair length. Very school shooter chic.” Connor responds by staring at him with this perplexed look of wtf dude seriously. He was just nagged at home, forced to go to school when he’s clearly uncomfortable about doing that, and then he gets there only to be antagonized by Jared who pretty much refers to him as someone who slaughters innocent people.

His ‘wtf dude’ look is totally justified in my opinion.  

Jared then says that he was just kidding and that it was a joke. To which Connor replies with “Yeah no it was funny. I’m laughing can’t you tell.” His tone starts out light and sarcastic. When Jared doesn’t respond, he steps closer to him and voice raises. “Am I not laughing hard enough for you?” He’s clearly offended by what Jared said.

Jared calls him a freak and walks away.

He gets bullied by Jared so he turns around and becomes the bully to Evan.

Like he did with Zoe, Connor redirects his pain onto people he know won’t fight back or who he views as weaker than him.

Evan nervous laughs when he’s left alone with Connor. Connor can probably see that Evan is scared of him and uses that to his advantage. He says the whole, “What the fuck are you laughing at? Stop fucking laughing at me?”” Stop laughing at me. Not laughing at what Jared said. But specifically laughing at Connor himself. Connor doesn’t want people laughing at him because he cares what they think about him. “You think I’m the freak? I’m not the freak. You’re the fucking freak.” He yells at Evan and pushes him to the ground.

People have all obviously analyzed all these scenes before. I’m not close to the first one to say it, but obviously, these are words he wishes he could say to Jared and Evan is the surrogate for his rage.

And finally we have the very last scene that Connor is in which is the computer lab scene:

Connor is apologetic after he loses his temper.

He sees Evan, who has clearly been crying. I think it’s unknown how long Connor was actually in the room with him/if he overheard the phone call with Evan’s mom. I’m assuming that Evan wasn’t actually speaking out loud when he was writing his letter, that it was more for the audience to know what he was writing. So if Connor had been in the room and listening, he could have heard Evan’s side of the phone call and seen him quietly crying on his laptop while writing something then print it out. Since he was near the printer, he took the paper to give to him. He didn’t have to do that. He wanted to.

I think he wanted an excuse to talk to Evan again after he pushed him. He probably felt bad. I feel like he views Evan as someone who’s harmless and unintimidating, which is why it was easy for him to channel his anger onto, but then he started to regret that choice, so he tried to reach out.

He never actually apologizes with words and instead tries to do it through actions. I bet you that Larry does the exact same thing too but Connor probably never realized or picked up on it. (I could do a full character study on Larry too omg he’s a great specimen to take apart and a fantastically flawed character like everyone else in the show its beautiful fuck)

He’s got a dark sense of humor.

When finding out Evan broke his arm from falling out of a tree, he replies with a “That’s the saddest fucking thing I ever heard.” But he doesn’t say it in a mean way. He smiles and laughs under his breath.

HE WAS TELLING A JOKE. He was trying his best to be nice to Evan and lightly joke around with him but I doubt they have similar styles of humor. I think it’s the only time Connor actually genuinely smiles too??

And Evan doesn’t really laugh. It’s more of a nervous “plz don’t hurt me again ur a lil scary” kinda laugh. So Connor backs off and changes the subject.

He’s observant.

He notices that no one signed Evan’s cast. 

He noticed that Evan has no friends hence the “now we can both pretend we have friends” line. 

He noticed Evan’s sad and alone so he’s making an effort to be nice to him. 

He noticed that he printed a piece of paper and that it would be a good ice breaker. 

He’s quiet and he notices things. It’s subtle but it’s there. I bet you Connor secretly knows everything about everyone. 

The boy just wants a damn friend. 

He’s lonely. Evan’s clearly lonely. Why not try to befriend him?

He’s signs his cast super big so it takes up the whole arm. For one, it gets a laugh out of the audience. But two, he kinda knows that no one else will sign it so he makes his name extra big so everyone will see and know that both of them aren’t alone/friendless.

This is also interesting to me because I wonder if Connor knew he was going to kill himself then. Often times suicide is something people plan out ahead of time. I wonder if he knew what he was going to do and I wonder if writing that on Evan’s arm was a secret way for him to leave something semi permanent behind. A way to be sure that someone would remember him when he’s gone. If that’s the case then that was some powerful shit to slip in and it hurts my soul.

He’s angry and paranoid and suicidal.

So obviously Connor reads Evan note to himself, thinks it’s about him, freaks out and leaves. That’s the last time we see Connor.

I’ve looked at this scene in a few different ways. The first way I see it is that Connor could of had symptoms of paranoia. He sees his sister’s name and his first thought is that Evan did this in a malicious manor. He views people as out to get him. It doesn’t take much to set him off. He’s got a lot of anger inside of him that he doesn’t know how to release in a healthy way so it ends up with him blowing up over the slightest little bumps in the road.

The second way I view it is a little different. If I’m thinking about my point before (about him already having plans to kill himself) then I wonder if he was just using the paper as an excuse to get angry and leave. He had already made his mark using Evan’s cast. His name was there. He technically didn’t need Evan anymore. Thus he “freaks out” over this paper and it helps fuel his desires to end his own life. As someone who has been suicidal in the past, I understand wanting to find every excuse you can to help end things, to justify what you’re doing, and to push people away. It’s a super fucked up way of thinking but, when you put yourself into that mindset, I don’t think it’s that crazy of an idea.

“Is this about my sister? You wrote this because you knew I’d find it.” (Hinting at the paranoia point) “Yeah you, uh, saw that I was the only other person in the computer lab.” (Mentally trying to convince himself to believe that Evan did this on purpose, even though it goes against everything he already knows about Evan) “So I could read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister and freak out, right?” (here comes the anger) “Then you could tell everybody that I’m crazy! Right?! Fuck you!” (cue the storm off)

And then we hear from Evan that Connor hasn’t been in school for three days.

And eventually we find out why.

From everything that Connor, himself, has told us he’s deeply hurting. He’s quiet. Observant. He’s got many unchecked mental health issues. He doesn’t feel heard. He’s lonely. He uses coping methods to get by. He has little to no self worth. He carries around a lot of guilt. He acts out on people he know won’t fight him back. Probably because he needs to feel superior because everywhere else in his life he feels stepped on. He is both a bully and bullied. He had little regard for strong authority aka Larry. He craves personal connections but doesn’t know how to obtain them or keep them. He’s broken. So that’s how I try my best to write him.

THEN we have what everyone else tells us about Connor. This should all be taken with a grain of salt because everyone views people differently but their words shouldn’t be totally disregarded either. (Yes I’m going to go on longer even though you never asked for this I’M SORRY I CAN’T STOP NOW) So let’s see what little Connor character traits we can find out from other people that could be potentially used for writing him in the future.

The scene during For Forever tells a lot of about Connor through his family:

Zoe: Connor wasn’t very nice so that makes sense.

Cynthia: Connor was…a complicated person.

Zoe: No. Connor was a bad person. There’s a difference.

In response to finding out Connor pushed Evan. Zoe is shown to have no sympathy for her brother’s actions while Cynthia continues to make excuses for him. I see that as Connor having no mercy on his sister but probably playing his mom to his advantage with what he knew he could get away with.  

Cynthia: Did Connor tell you about the Harris’? We used to go skiing together, our families.

Zoe: Connor hated skiing.

Not a sports, activity kinda guy. Doesn’t like things involving social gatherings. Not friendly.

Larry: Somebody had to be the bad guy.

In response to reading Connor’s emails. This one is a little iffy in regards to Connor’s character. It’s more a Larry thing. Because I don’t know if Connor was actually aware that his emails were read or not but either way it shows that he was completely not trusted by his family. Also that pointing out again that Cynthia was probably a push over when it came to Connor and he knew that.

Cynthia: We used to go to the orchard all the time. We;d do picnics there. Remember that Zoe?

Zoe: Yeah I do.

Cynthia: You and Connor had that little toy plane that you would fly. [to Larry, with sad laughter] Until you flew it into the creek.

Larry: No that was an emergency landing.

This is big. Things weren’t always hell in the Murphy house. There were good memories. Sadly though good memories are often overshadowed by the bad ones. Connor seemed to cast a huge shadow over this family. But it is important to note that Connor and Zoe used to play together as children. Things. Aren’t. Always. Awful. Connor wasn’t a reckless beast. He can be written to be playful and funny and sarcastic and sweet. Just balance it out with the angst. People are complicated and have tons of depth so try to write them that way if you can.

Other things said at random points throughout the play…

Jared:

“Connor Murphy is batshit out of his mind. Remember when he threw a printer at Mrs. G in second grade because he didn’t get to be the line leader that day? 

Connor has had anger issues since he was a child too.

Alana: 

“Still can’t believe the terrible news about @ connormurphy. I wouldn’t say that we were friends exactly. More like acquaintances. We were in chemistry together. I’m pretty sure. Also he was in my English class in 10th grade. Almost positive. Yeah he was definitely in my English class. Three days ago Connor Murphy was here and now hes gone. If Connor meant something to you please retweet or private message me if you just wanna talk. At time like thees we could all use a friend.”

Honestly, this says way more about Alana’s character but it still mentions Connor so I’m adding it.

But what I do get from this was the Connor has/had a twitter (or some form of social media, but I’m assuming twitter since the “retweet” bit) and Alana followed him on it?

“He was one of my closest acquaintances. He was my lab partner in Chemistry and we presented on Huck Fin together in 10th grade. He was so funny. Instead of calling it, well, Huck Fin…[fades off]. Nobody else in our class thought of that.”

Again, speaks more to Alana’s character than Connors. But I also wonder if this is actually true or if she made this up in a similar fashion to Evan in order to put herself in the story…since she didn’t even recall if he was in those classes or not earlier.

BUT assuming that this was true, Connor doesn’t seem to care much for school. Or he could have been trying to make jokes in order to gain friends. If he worked with Alana on projects, her personality would have steam rolled over his. I think she would be the type of person he would sit back and let take control and tell him what to do then just go along with it.

Zoe: 

“Just because Connor isn’t here, trying to punch through my door, screaming that he’s going to kill me for no reason, that doesn’t mean that all of a sudden we’re the fucking Brady Bunch.” 

I mean…yikes.

“After all you put me through. Don’t say it wasn’t true. That you were not the monster that I knew”

 This shit just breaks my damn heart. You are not the monster that I knew is one of my favorite lines in the entire play. In Zoe’s story, Connor is the villain. He hurt her. He abused her. And no one did anything about it to protect her or stop him. I haven’t really had a chance to write too much of Zoe into my writings yet but I know that if/when I do, Connor is not going to be a kind character to her.

Larry: 

“We didn’t think Connor had any friends.” 

All they found with Connor was Evan’s letter. I wonder how many times he reread it, if at all, before he died. Do you think he calmed down and looked at it again through a different light? This time maybe seeing how depressed and unhappy Evan was too? I wonder if he found comfort in that at all and that’s why it was still in his pocket. Of course that’s purely speculation on my part. He could have just shoved it in there and forgot it was there. That’s the beautiful thing about this play, there’s a lot that the viewer can piece together and take away on their own. Things are never fed to you. They present them simply and let you take what you need from it.

Anyway, yeah, Connor had no friends. That point was already kinda clear though.

“I gave you the world. You threw it away.” 

Connor grew up in a well off family. They were rich. He literally could of had anything he wanted but he didn’t. I take that as Connor not giving a shit about material items. He probably has little regard for things. You could write that as him throwing and breaking near by items if he’s mad or simply tossing things around and not caring abobut them. Whereas someone who grew up poor, would be more likely to take care of their things because they know they can’t just get more.

“I didn’t realize Connor meant this much to people.” 

In his father’s eyes, Connor didn’t mean very much. He was probably able to pick up on that and it would affect his attitude and behavior to other people. If he felt he didn’t mean much to his own father, then why would he ever be special to anyone else?

“He left it in the bag with the tags still on.”

Larry’s weak attempt at reaching out to his son with a baseball glove. It was probably obvious to everyone that Connor was not a sports person. He probably hated baseball. But Larry likes it so he tried to force his hobbies onto Connor. It was received by Connor not even opening the gift. From Connor’s perspective, he could have taken that as a ‘wow my father knows literally nothing about me wtf’ where as Larry would have viewed that differently but this is not about Larry asd;kfja

“Your dad must feel pretty lucky to have a son like you.” 

Another great line in this play! It hurts my soul. Connor is a disappointment to his father. Larry wished Connor could have been something more than he was. Once again, this shit would weigh on Connor’s mind and fuck him up.

Cynthia: 

“I don’t remember the last time I heard him laugh.” 

That shit is dark yo. Connor doesn’t laugh around his family. He’s unhappy there.

“Connor didn’t get invited to any bar mitzvahs” [paraphrasing that quote]

Cynthia always had hope for Connor. I like to imagine Connor not being as nasty to his mother than everyone in the family. She really loved him and I hope he could feel that deep down.

And, of course, Evan: 

“Over the summer I found this yearbook thing that our class made in 8th grade. Most people did collages of their friends. But Connor’s was a list of his ten favorite books.”

One of my favorite bits I like to write into stories is that Connor liked to read. For a middle school kid to have ten favorite books, and care enough about them to put them into a yearbook, is kinda of special. Books are methods of escapism to many people and I like to think Connor is included in that group. 

OKAY IM GOING TO STOP THIS IS SO LONG I AM SO SORRY THIS WAS NOT THE RESPONSE YOU WERE LOOKING FOR I WROTE YOU A DUMB CHARACTER STUDY INSTEAD. THIS IS ALL HOW I SEE CONNOR SO IT’S HOW I TRY TO WRITE HIM YOU COULD SEE HIM SUPER DIFFERENTLY AND WRITE HIM DIFFERENTLY THATS WHAT IS SO GREAT ABOUT WRITING

[effie-trinket]

Supergirl Secret Santa 2017 Fic

Title: every day’s a holiday (when i’m near to you) Pairing: Sanvers Rating: G Summary: When Maggie was 15, she woke up on Christmas Day to an empty apartment. This year is a little different.

For AO3 user JaceRMontague

Read on AO3

When Maggie was 15, she woke up on Christmas Day to an empty apartment, because her aunt had to work a double to pay for the rent that month, and working the holiday would pay her time and a half so Maggie understood why she wasn’t going to be there. It didn’t make it hurt any less.The previous year at that time, she was enjoying a homemade breakfast by the fireplace with her mom and dad. There were presents under the tree. This year, she had a homemade card from her aunt and the promise of a filling meal at the end of the day for her gifts.

When Maggie was 18, she spent Christmas alone in her dorm room. Her roommate offered to take Maggie home for the winter break, but they were only really friends out of necessity, and Maggie knew the offer was more out of obligation than friendship. Maggie had take-out from the one Chinese restaurant nearby that was open.

At 21, Maggie was happily dating Emily, but they had only been going out for a couple of months, and Emily already had vacation plans with her parents that had been set in stone for nearly a year, so Maggie opened up the one small gift from her girlfriend by herself on Christmas morning. It was a simple necklace, and while it was definitely not something Maggie was likely to wear, she hadn’t been given a real gift in years, and the feeling of finally feeling wanted won over the lack of personal touch.

The next four Christmases weren’t too bad. She had Emily. She sort of got along with Emily’s parents. She had a couple nice coworkers at her station. But then Maggie went and fucked it all up, and then once again, as always, she was alone.

But now, now she finally had something. She worked a late shift on December 24, and as she crawled into bed late that night with an already sleeping Alex, she had visions of waking up next to her girlfriend and celebrating their first Christmas together, happy on the holiday for the first time in years.

What she didn’t expect was to be woken up by a loud, repetitive beeping.

“What the…?” She rubbed her eyes and looked around blearily, grabbing her phone to answer it before realizing the screen was blank. She looked over towards Alex’s side of the bed and noticed it was empty and her phone was missing. “Al..?” She glanced over at the kitchen and saw Alex bustling around, using the step stool she got for Maggie to rip something —ah, the fire alarm— off the wall.

Maggie half stumbled into the kitchen area. “What’s going on?”

Alex startled as she whipped around to face Maggie. “You weren’t supposed to wake up yet…” She sighed and walked over to the breakfast bar, showing Maggie the plate of rather crisp-looking pancakes. “I wanted to make you breakfast.”

Still half-asleep, Maggie gaped a little at Alex’s comment. “You…?” She looked back at the pancakes. “But you can’t cook!”

Alex looked affronted. “Yes I can!”

Looking pointedly at the object still in Alex’s hand, Maggie scoffed. “The fire alarm says otherwise.”

“Yeah, well…” Alex tossed the alarm onto the table and sat down dejectedly. “I just wanted to make our first Christmas together special.”

Maggie walked over and wrapped her arms around Alex from behind, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’s the though that counts.” She turned Alex’s head towards her and gave her a deeper kiss. “And I appreciate the thought. Even though we’re supposed to have breakfast soon anyway with your sister.”

Alex hummed and rested her forehead against Maggie’s. “Sorry I woke you up.”

“It definitely wasn’t the best way I’ve been woken up by you,” Maggie said with a sly grin.

“Is that so?” Alex asked with a matching smile, leaning in for another kiss.

She savored it for all five seconds before there was a knock on the door. Maggie groaned and sighed as she pulled back.

“I’m sorry!” they heard from the other side of the door. “Not that I would… not that I would know what’s happening. How could I know what’s happening?” A familiar nervous laughter sounded.

Alex shook her head in amusement and walked over to the door, opening it up to see her smiling sister with a bag of gifts in her hand, and standing behind her—

“Lena!” Alex exclaimed. “What a… pleasant surprise!”

Lena looked uncomfortable at that. “Oh, did Kara not tell you…? I can go if you weren’t expecting me—”

“No, it’s fine!” Alex interrupted, opening up her door a little wider. “Really, we always have too much food anyway. Kara… likes to eat.”

“Who doesn’t?” Kara said as she waltzed into Alex’s kitchen, dropping off the bags by the door and giving Maggie a tight hug. “Merry Christmas!”

Maggie smiled and greeted her before taking a step back and letting the Danvers sisters arrange the presents under the small plastic tree that Maggie had forced Alex to purchase (“If you insist on not having a real tree, then at least get a fake one so I can pretend that it’s still Christmas”). She smiled at Lena, still unsure of what their relationship was after she arrested her that one time. That’s when Maggie noticed her sweater.

“Nice,” Maggie said with a nod towards the college sweatshirt Lena was wearing.

Lena met her gaze and raised an eyebrow. “Thanks.”

“Did you go to Mount Holyoke?”

“No,” Lena said with a tilt of her head. “I was visiting the area once in college and met some nice  people who went there.”

Maggie smirked. “I see.” She gave Lena a knowing look, causing Lena to give her a small smile in return.

“Mount Holyoke?” Kara asked from the other side of the room. “Where’s that, Lena? I thought you went to MIT.”

“I did,” Lena said. “Like I said, I just… went to see new places. Visit a… friend. It’s just a couple hours away from MIT, and it’s in a… good area.”

Maggie snorted. Lena tried not to smile. Alex and Kara both looked at them with confused faces.

“Good how? What was the college like?” Kara asked with a genuinely curious face.

“It was… it was good,” Lena said. “It was an all girls, liberal arts college—”

“All girls?” Kara asked, perplexed. Alex’s eyes shifted to Maggie, silently communicating a question that Maggie nodded to. “Well that must’ve been nice for your friend to be able to focus on her studies at school rather than getting distracted by cute boys.” She turned away and continued setting up presents.

Maggie hid a snort behind her hand.

“Yes, she was never distracted by boys there,” Lena said with a hidden grin.

“Were you ever distracted by cute boys in class at MIT? I know there must have been a lot of them, because of the gender inequality issues that they’ve dealt with in the past.” Kara cut herself off before she started to ramble too much.

Lena’s mouth quirked as she tried not to laugh. “I can’t say I was.” Kara smiled at her before turning back to the tree and asking Alex about something parent-related.

“She really can be oblivious sometimes,” Maggie said as she looked over at the sisters, making sure Kara was too engaged in the conversation to try and eavesdrop. Lena hummed in agreement. “I still think you’d guys would be cute.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Just saying.”

“Yeah,” Lena agreed as she looked over at the blonde in question. “I think we would be, too.”

Maggie tilted her head. “You know you could make it obvious to her.”

Lena gave her a look. “I sent dozens of bouquets of flowers to her. Honestly, how much more obvious could I be?”

“You could tell her.

The CEO sighed and nodded. “I could.”

“If it makes a difference,” Maggie said, “I think she likes you, too.”

Lena’s eyebrows quirked up, but before she could respond, Kara stood and clapped her hands together excitedly.

“We’re all set!” She turned to Maggie and Lena. “But before we get to the gifts— who’s ready for breakfast? I know I am!” She bustled over to the kitchen and took note of the dirtied dishes already strewn across the counter. “What… what are these?” She whirled around to her sister. “Alex— did you try to cook?”

Alex shrugged. “I thought I’d just make Maggie a little something before you got here—”

“But cooking, Alex? You know that’s a bad idea!”

“Sorry for trying to be romantic!” Alex said as she started grabbing the dishes and putting them in the sink.

Kara shook her head and began digging through cabinets for ingredients. “It’s fine, I can make us something edible and good.”

Maggie nudged Lena’s shoulder with her own. “I can help!” Lena piped up quickly, heading over to the younger Danvers sister.

Kara snorted, fiddling with her glasses. “Lena, haven’t you had most— if not all— of your meals cooked for you?”

Lena looked down. “I suppose that is true.” Maggie not-so-subtly coughed. “But—uh— it’s never too late to learn, is it?”

“I suppose that is true,” Kara echoed with a smile, a red tint tinging her cheeks as she handed a measuring cup over to her friend. “We’ll need six cups of flour—”

“Six? That seems like a lot…”

Kara fiddled with her glasses again in embarrassment. “Well… we need a lot of pancakes.”

“Like I said earlier, we always have too much food,” Alex said as she started to clean up the dishes from before.

As Maggie looked on at the scene in front of her, with the two flirts making breakfast together and her girlfriend cleaning up after everything, she realized that for the first time in years she had truly found peace of mind. This Christmas hadn’t begun like any of the others, and it certainly wasn’t going to end like any of them, but it was all for the better. While it hadn’t started like she had expected, she knew that regardless, she was going to remain elated, because she had finally found her happiness.

Alex finished the dishes and walked over to Maggie, circling her arms around her and pulling her into a hug. “Hey, babe.”

“Hey,” Maggie said with a grin, turning her head slightly to put a small kiss on Alex’s ear.

“What are you thinking about?” Alex asked, pulling back but keeping her arms around Maggie’s neck.

Maggie shrugged. “Not much. You?”

Alex grinned goofily. “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you.”

“That’s gay,” Maggie said with a snort.

“That’s kind of the intention,” Alex retorted. She kissed Maggie slowly. “Merry Christmas, Maggie.”

Maggie grinned and kissed her back. “Merry Christmas, Alex.”

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Sledgehammer

Chapter Three

Previous Chapter

Paring: Steve Rogers x Reader   |   Word Count: 3769 Warnings: Language

Song: The Snake by Al Wilson

“Nope, not happening!” Clint barked. “We’re swapping teams.”

Gritting your teeth together, hating yourself for what you were about to do, you sucked it up and did what Steve would. “No. We’re leaving them as they are.”

“Brat!” Clint hissed.

Glaring at Garry, his too smug face begging for a fist, you shook your head. “Gotta happen sooner or later. Let’s just get on with it.”

Low key murmurs were coming from the rest of the newbies, and, while you didn’t have Cap or Bucky’s hearing, you weren’t stupid.

Everyone here was a team. If you couldn’t play nice with the agent you most wanted to beat the living shit out of, how were you to expect them to get along with each other? You were a big girl. You could handle Garry.

Turning back to the group, you called out, “Everyone ready?” An affirmative sound ran through them. “Alrighty then. Designated rescuers, you’ll get your Intel from Clint, everyone else… brace yourselves.” With a cheeky grin, you held up your hand.

“Brace? For what?” asked Susan, paired with Maggie.

“Not what, who.” Chuckling, you pointed toward the compound.

Iron Man, War Machine, and Falcon all leapt from the roof at the same time.

“Hang on, ladies,” Tony chuckled, grabbing Susan and Faye around the waist, leaving Maggie and Grant, Faye’s partner, gaping after them.

Rhodey chuckled as he snatched Smitty up by the back of his protective vest, causing the man to squeak out in fear before he was dragged into the air, Marcus looking on in shock.

“Give me a boost, old man!” You laughed, running for Clint.

Linking his fingers together, Clint snapped, “I’m not old, just gently used!” as he tossed you up toward Sam.

“Got you, (Y/N)!”

Laughing, you wrapped an arm around his neck. “Never had a doubt, Sam!”

Glancing toward the ground, he frowned. “Do not tell me you’re paired up with Garry! Cap’s going to flip.”

“I can handle Garry.” You dismissed his concern. “What’s he going to do? Play Steve again? Not if he wants to pass this exercise.” Not if he wanted to keep his balls.

“Still, I don’t like it. He’s a shit.” Dropping to the ground, he set you down before the bunker you were being stashed at. “You want me to hang out? This place gives me the creeps.”

“Nah, I’m good.” You shook your head, heading inside. The old storage facility had been retrofitted but not upgraded. It had the latest technology and would simulate a real combat scenario, in which Garry had to get in, get you out, and not get tagged. Once you were out, then it would be up to Clint, situated on the roof of the compound, to take the two of you down before you could reach the designated extraction zone. “I brought my phone for company.”

Garry only had thirty minutes to get to you before your captors killed you, so you didn’t figure you’d have to wait too terribly long.

“Okay, but if you need anything…” Sam trailed off.

“I’m good, flyboy, thanks.” Smiling, you waved him off and wandered over to settle in the chair in the middle of the room. Once you sat down, all systems would be go, and Garry was on his own.

****

Clint went through everyone else’s Intel, sent them on their way, and turned to Garry where he dragged the little shit closer by the vest. “You mess with her again, I got a special arrow with your name on it.”

“Chill out, man,” he held up his hands defensively. “I’ve learned my lesson. No one plays with the big guy’s woman.”

Clint swatted him upside the head. “Dumbass. The big guy is Bruce, but no one fucks with this team, period! You’d be getting the same lectures, the same shit chores, and the same hassle if you’d pulled this stunt with Nat or Wanda or Scott. It was cruel, and it was stupid! You’re supposed to be becoming an Avenger. Right now, all I see is a punk. Pull your head out of your ass and grow up!” Shoving him back, Clint handed out the last package of Intel. “She’s in the bunker. Get in, get out. Don’t get caught.”

“Yes, sir!” Garry gave a mocking salute and jogged towards the woods.

Fingers twitching on his bow, Clint muttered, “An accident. I could stage an accident. No one would ever have to know. Just picked the wrong arrowhead. Oops.” Turning towards the compound where he would make his way to the roof, he was plucked from the ground by Sam. “Shit! Warn a guy!”

Dropping Clint on the roof, Sam landed beside him. “Figured you wouldn’t mind the lift,” he chuckled.

“Give me a heart attack, and I might mind,” Clint grumbled.

Sam stood beside Clint, laughing, arms crossed as he stared out at the woods. “You can really see all them? I can pick ‘em up, but only thanks to these.” He tapped his goggles.

“Yeah. But I’m keeping tabs on that one.” Clint pointed in the direction of Garry.

“Can’t believe you let her partner with him. Cap’s going to freak. Him and Bucky.” Shaking his head, Sam sighed. “You tellin’ him, or am I?”

“She said she could handle it. He’s supposed to be part of the team. Let her handle it.” Clint shrugged. “But if you want to hang out in case she loses her shit and kicks his ass again; I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Honestly? I kinda hope she does!” Sam snickered. “It’s a pleasure to watch her work.”

***

The wait was boring as hell, but the simulated agents ignored you, allowing you to wait quietly, playing Candy Crush when the text from Laura showed up.

Clint said you’re running an extraction exercise today. FYI? He’s increased his range by about 60 feet.

“What!?” You squeak loudly, sending back a furiously typed text. How!? That’s not possible!

A sheepish looking emoji appeared. I don’t know. He muttered something about paintballs and trajectories, wind somethings and resistance. Um… my bad?

You could almost see her laughing. Thanks for the heads up. I’ll be ready.

Pouting a little, reworking your plan for getting past Clint and his bow, you glanced at the clock. Twenty-two minutes in.

Garry should be coming through the door at any time.

The pairings, other than this one, had worked out quite well.

Susan was a teleporter. She could jump in and out of places as long as she had pictures and was within a hundred feet. But she wasn’t able to bring people with her, only objects.

Already the team was looking at her for missions regarding gathering Intel. It would be cake for her to plant listening devices, or if the need was great, a bomb.

Her partner, Maggie, used a combination of sound and brainwaves. With a thought, she could take out agents, but with a whistle, she could blow electronics, or level a building.

The two of them worked well together as Susan could get in and out undetected, while Maggie played distraction. You liked them as a team.

Faye was different, small and delicate. Her power lay in the swiftness of her brain. It worked so quickly she was nearly clairvoyant, always multiple steps ahead of her opponent. She could put together an op and run the scenarios in her head to such pinpoint accuracy; there was a ridiculously small margin of error.

Hill and Fury had been looking at her for just that purpose. Using her to run numbers, or plan insurgencies because she often made a note of probabilities not even the computers noticed.

Grant in comparison was of average intelligence, but the man was a brutal fighter. Very little stopped him once he got throwing fists. Nat had hit him with her widow’s bite once. He’d barely even flinched.

Going a few rounds with Steve and Bucky had rung his bell, finally dropping him to his knees, but it had both super soldiers sweating by the time they finished.

Grant and Faye had partnered together before, and Faye’s cool, calculating brain kept him contained. She was very good at channelling his effort where it would do the most damage, and for his part, Grant was more than willing to put his nearly invincible self in harm’s way for her.

You figured he was a little smitten, but they weren’t letting it interfere in their training. Just because they’d made it this far didn’t necessarily mean they would become Avengers.

Then there was Smitty and Marcus who were elementals as well as brothers.

The darker of the two, Smitty - born Saturino but nickname Smitty by Tony when the Iron Man was being, well, Tony - was always laughing and joking, often in his native Portuguese so only Marcus understood him. The brothers, originally from Brazil, had grabbed the Avengers attention when working together, they had diverted a mudslide from taking out an entire village.

Smitty could channel water like it was an extension of his body, while Marcus moved air with the simplicity of breathing. The two synced perfectly, and when Marcus had pulled his brother’s name from the bag, it hadn’t surprised you at all.

The only one that perplexed you was Garry. Garry with two Rs. Who the hell spells Garry with two Rs? A self-entitled little prick, that’s who. One day soon you were going to corner Maria and ask what the hell she thought she was doing.

But even here you could see why they were so interested in him. Garry’s power was unique. The man could glamour himself, taking the face and form of anyone he wished. As long as he’d seen a picture of their face, heard their voice, and had a rough estimation of height and weight, he could wave his fingers and become them. When he had the chance to really study his target, he could mimic them with an incredible degree of accuracy.

The man was good, you’d give him that, but he was an asshat. Had been since the moment you’d met. He was sarcastic and rude, petulant and confrontational. What his problem with you was, you had no clue, but he’d been a total dick from day one.

Maybe it was because out of the entire team, you were normal. No special powers, no tragic backstory, no crazy weaponry. You were just a girl who had managed to impress the right people at the right time, ending up placed with the team when they’d needed an extra member.

Barton had been your mentor, and you thanked your lucky stars every day for it. Clint, while you wouldn’t classify him as completely normal, anyone who had that kind of aim and precision was, in your book, damn special, he wasn’t what the others were. He was an agent who’d done his own impressing at the right time and place to get where he was today.

If you’d been paired with anyone else, you might have been too intimidated to really let loose, but Clint… he was just Clint. He kicked your ass, gave you pep talks, and sat at your bedside the first time you’d taken a bullet. He was your mentor, your rock, and your friend. Eventually, he’d become family.

He was the older brother you’d never known was missing. When he’d found out about you and Steve, he’d handed the phone to Laura, who proceeded to rat him out as he’d happy danced his way around their living room.

The door handle turning knocked you from your musings, but you didn’t give up your would be rescuer’s location by looking, just casually tucked your phone away.

When the door opened further, and an agent you’d seen wandering through the halls walked in, you arched a brow. Would the simulated agents know he was faking? Apparently not, for, when Garry stopped, pulled his silenced weapon and fired, he took down the three agents milling around without any alarms going off.

“That was almost impressive,” you quipped, getting to your feet.

“Then I will almost thank you,” he said, motioning toward the door. “Buildings clear. Let’s get the damsel home to her big, strong superhero.”

Rolling your eyes, you ignored him.

“What? No thank you for the rescue?”

“You’re not done yet,” you reminded him.

He snorted, following in your wake. “Barton can’t be that good. He’s got hundreds of acres to search through and eight of us to find.”

Side-eyeing him, you shrugged. “Suit yourself, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Oh, come on! You’ve got to be joking.”

“Ten bucks says he tags everyone from the other teams.”

“Twenty says he tags half of us at best.”

“Fifty, he tags everyone except me.”

“You’re on!” Garry challenged, holding out his hand.

“Put your own damn face on first. It’s weird knowing you’re not you.”

The image around him shimmered, returning him to dark hair and calculating grey eyes. “Better?”

“Much,” you grumbled heading for the exterior doors.

“What? Not going to shake on it?”

“Do I need to?”

“It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.” He almost sounded like he was pouting.

Glancing back, you smirked at him. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m not a gentleman.” You could practically hear his teeth grind together. Pausing before the outer door, you wiped the smirk off your face before turning to face him.

“Ladies first.” He motioned toward the door.

“Nope. That’s not how this works. I’m not an agent in this scenario. I’m a hostage. You lead.”

“So you’re saying I’m in charge?” A wicked grin spread over his face.

“As long as you don’t fuck up.” You shrugged.

He growled at you, a full-on angry snarl, causing you to burst out laughing.

“What are you? An angry puppy?” you snickered, unable to help yourself.

“Fuck you.” Grabbing the handle, he wrenched open the door.

“Awe. Did I strike a nerve?” You pout, batting your lashes.

“Why don’t you shut your mouth until you can wrap those lips back around Cap’s cock like the good whore you are,” he sneered stalking away.

You flinch as if you’d been slapped before all you could see was red. “Alright, that hangs it! What the hell is your problem with me? You’ve been nothing but a stuck-up snot since day one!”

He turned on you sending you swiftly into a defensive stance. “And at what point did you ever give me a chance? Huh? You and your attitude have been leading the charge since the minute we arrived!”

Taken aback, you stared, horrified. “No, I haven’t!”

“Please!” he snorted, striding into the forest.

“Wait, wait, wait! Explain yourself!”

He only scoffed, continuing to walk away.

Darting forward, you grabbed him by the arm. “C’mon! I mean it, Garry! If I did something to offend you, I certainly didn’t mean to. Let me apologize.”

He peered down at you, eyes assessing before he sighed. “The minute you walked in the room it was like you picked out every flaw each of us had. This was wrong, that needed improvement. We were never going to be good enough, but you weren’t special. You’re normal! Not enhanced. Not a mutant. No special skills like Clint or Sam. Just some girl who got lucky and wound up part of the team. You didn’t even give us a chance. And when I tried to call you on it, you turned into a raging bitch.”

Gasping, you stepped back. “No… I… that’s not it at all! I called you out on your flaws because some of you seemed unaware of them. In a combat scenario, they could get you killed. Clint did the same for me. And the only reason I got up in your face that day was that I thought you could do so much better. I was trying to motivate you, not picking on you.”

“I’m not a soldier, (Y/N)! Those tactics may work on Steve and Bucky, but they didn’t with me. I resented it, and you, this whole time!” He threw up his hands in disgust.

Your hands fell to your sides as you sadly shook your head. “Garry… I… I’m sorry. I wish you would have said something sooner.”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, thrusting a hand through his hair. “Maybe before I played that prank and you tried to kick me through reinforced glass.”

Chuckling a little, you shrugged. “You did deserve that.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too, about what I did.” He looked away, a hint of red rising beneath the bruises.

“Had a slightly more pleasing outcome on my end.” You grinned smugly. “Look, I’ll get the guys to lay off. Tell them you apologized and meant it. We all need to work as a team. We’re on the same side after all.”

“Really? Bucky was going to make me wash out the hanger after this.” His eyes filled with hope.

“Sure,” you laughed. “Come on. We’ve got a ways to go before we are in range of Clint’s arrows. You can tell me your plan for getting my butt out of here unscathed.”

“That would be great!” he smiled, a genuine one that softened his features as he waved you forward.

Heading into the trees, you didn’t see the smile turn cold, nor the hardness come to his grey eyes as he watched you walk away.

***

Opening the door to the roof, Steve and Bucky walked out into the sun, heading for Clint and Sam, standing at the edge.

“So this is where everyone’s hiding out,” Steve chuckled, taking up position beside Sam and cross his arms. “How’s everyone doing?”

“Down to two,” Clint grumbled.

“Who’s left?” Bucky asked.

“Brat and the bastard,” he quipped, notching another arrow.

Steve instantly stiffened. “I beg your pardon? (Y/N)’s out with Garry?”

Clint gritted his teeth together and let fly, swearing viciously as he did. “Fuck! Yes, damn it! Shut up and let me work!”

Another arrow was between his fingers and flying through the air before either newcomer could comment.

“What the hell?” Bucky grumbled, peering at Clint.

“Our girl’s doing a hell of a job evading Barton’s arrows,” Sam muttered.

“Yeah?” Steve smirked proudly.

“Yeah. But she’s working with Garry. I don’t know what happened out there, but she said they needed to work as a team and damn if she hadn’t taught Garry a few things.”

Landing with a solid clank, Tony made his way toward the group. “Your elf eyes failing you, Legolas?”

“Fuck you, Stark.”

“Ooh. Someone’s pissy,” Tony chuckled.

“What can you see, Tony?” Steve asked.

Opening his hand, Tony played the images back from the cameras placed throughout the woods. “She’s giving Katniss there a run for his money.”

Gathered around the running images, listening as Barton cursed with each miss, the other four watched as (Y/N) and Garry, danced, dashed, and darted their way through the trees.

“Shit. Will you look at her go,” Sam chuckled.

“There’s no rhythm to their actions, no way to guess where they’ll go next.” Bucky nodded, impressed.

“She’s got you pegged, Barton,” Tony fairly cackled.

“Not yet. They’re not to the extraction point yet.”

They all watched as Clint lined up the shot, waiting, waiting, waiting before releasing the arrow with a quiet twang from the bowstring. He lowered his bow, smirk on his face, and nodded.

Watching the cameras again, the four men took a collective inhalation. The arrow zipped past camera after camera, flying toward the two running through the wood.

Steve gasped when (Y/N) bent nearly double, laying over backwards to avoid the projectile. Garry, running a few feet behind her, was not so lucky.

The explosion of vibrant yellow paint along with the force of the arrow hitting at speed, threw him backward through the air and hard onto his back where he lay, gasping and panting, trying to recover the wind Clint had knocked out of him.

“That’s it, brat,” Clint said into his com. “Rescuer is dead; hostage retaken. Mission failed.”

Everyone could hear her shouted fuck snarl through the air.

“You did good, kid. Got farther than anyone else,” he complimented.

Steve frowned as he watched (Y/N) run back to check on Garry, help him to his feet, and make sure he was steady before heading back. “Alright, is it just me, or is that weird?”

“Weird.” Bucky and Sam said together, eyeing each other.

“Let’s go see what’s up with little miss feisty,” Tony quipped, diving off the roof, Sam hot on his heels.

“I swear at times they forget we don’t fly,” Bucky groused, jogging toward the door with Clint and Steve.

By the time the three of them made it to the ground, the newbies were making their way out of the woods.

Striding quickly forward, Steve frowned when he heard his girl laugh.

“So close! Ugh! I told you, you’d picked up a rhythm!” she smirked at Garry.

“I don’t even know how!” he whined throwing up his arms.

“You stopped thinking. The body naturally wants to be in rhythm. You have to force it not to. We’ll work on it.”

“(Y/N)?” Steve muttered.

***

Looking toward the call of your name, you lit up. “Steve!” You danced forward and jumped knowing he’d catch you, and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Did you see? Man! We were so close!” Glancing around at the paint splattered others, you laughed. “And Garry now owes me fifty bucks!”

“He does, does he?” Steve’s smile slowly appeared on his face.

“Yup!” you said popping the ‘P.’ “I’m the only one not covered in paint!”

“Not for lack of trying,” Clint muttered. “Damn it, woman! Did Laura warn you?”

“Maybe!” you giggled.

“Garry. Get cleaned up. You’ve got a hanger to scrub.” Bucky thrust a thumb at the compound.

“Wait, Bucky.” Looking to Steve, you motioned with your head toward the ground. “Garry and I talked. He apologized, for real. I… we,” sighing you huffed, “We’ve both made some mistakes, but we cleared up the misunderstandings. It’s fixed, guys, so lay off. Okay?”

They all gaped at you before each one glared at Garry.

You slammed your hands to your hips and stepped between them and Garry. “Enough! We’re supposed to be a team. Let’s act like one. From now on, I’ll be Garry’s mentor.”

A chorus of disbelieving voices ran through the men.

“It’s decided!” you snapped, glaring at them. “Now, I’m for the shower. Garry, I’ll see you on the gun range in an hour. Everyone else, get ready to rerun this exercise, switch partners, new locations.” You marched away, Steve hot on your heels.

Next Chapter

[lestvt]

me: people need to stop over-analyzing every single detail of [insert title here]

also me: *spends 2 hours writing a 1.5k essay on why i hate when people compare Light Yagami to Lelouch from Code Geass*

Light vs. Lelouch

As someone who thrives on over-analyzing the shit out of tiny details in media, I consider myself to be pretty well versed in the ways of character study. And as much as I am an anime-loving time-waster, I’m also an extremely opinionated anime-loving time-waster. So, as an extremely opinionated anime-loving, time-wasting, story-consumer/teller, I really must stress that I absolutely despise the commonplace comparison between Light Yagami of Death Note and Lelouch vi Britannia of Code Geass. Since you now know that I’m a nerd, I can also tell you two more facts about me: 1. Code Geass has been my favorite anime since I was 13, and I have rewatched it in full about 5 times. And 2. Death Note was one my other favorites… until it became mainstream and the movies started happening and I was completely repulsed by how edgy everyone thought they were for enjoying it… and then 7 years later (like a few weeks ago) I rewatched it and remembered that I really adore Light’s characterization.

Although, I really can’t say I blame people for comparing Light to Lelouch. They are, in essence, very similar characters. Both of their stories are based around the question of whether or not the ends justify the means. They both do some morally questionable things, AKA killing people. They both have a counterpart who disagrees with their methods and actively opposes them. And, most importantly, they both laugh like fucking lunatics on several occasions. I’m not arguing with any of that, in fact I’d readily agree if you were to say “they are more alike than they are different.”

Here’s the thing though, Light Yagami is a narcissistic, sociopath who would kill his own sister to achieve his goals and Lelouch vi Britannia/Lamperouge IS LITERALLY THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF THAT. Though their actions may be similarly questionable, the key different between Light and Lelouch is the context of those actions. And, believe me, context matters.  

I’m going to start by talking about Light, because overall his reasoning is simpler than Lelouch’s. Light is a jaded, egotistical pessimist who got fucking seduced by a book that exists solely for murdering people. Let me just say, I love Light; he is one of my favorite anime characters of all time. But if you know anything about me as a person (*waves at my friends*), then you know this means he’s a Terrible Person™. (Disclaimer: Lelouch is not my favorite character from Code Geass [Suzaku is, but that’s a horror story of moral perplexities for another day]).

I think a lot of people like to romanticize this idea of Light being a good person who was saddled with the curse of the Death Note, but that’s simply not true. Even before finding the Death Note, Light was bored and disgusted with life. He was literally the top student in Japan, junior tennis champ –the sport he quit after becoming the best at – and a straight up liar. I mean, no wonder he thought he was better than everyone, in a way he was. I wrote a whole character study on Light a while back that I never posted. In it I talked about why I think the Death Note didn’t make him evil, so much as it allowed him the chance to try to be.

Of course, we know that Light justified his actions by killing only criminals at first, but we also know that he eventually purposefully murdered a number of innocent people who threatened his capture (L, Raye Penber, Naomi Misora, etc.). We also know he killed someone who was literally on his side (Kiyomi Takada), and that he considered killing his sister to keep possession of the Death Note. And we know he then strategically planned to have a breakdown during his father’s last moments alive so he could get him to write Mello’s real name in the Death Note. Yeah, that’s right. He didn’t actually have a breakdown over his father’s death. He pretended to so he could kill somebody trying to oppose him (which didn’t work by the way). I feel like anyone who argues that Light was in the right must’ve stopped watching after L died, because I don’t know how you can think his intentions are honestly pure while knowing these things.

Okay, here’s my totally real breakdown of things; Light is a sociopath who doesn’t want a better world so much as to be worshiped as a God. He does not care about the lives of his family members as much his own, if at all, and literally does not care about anyone else in the slightest. He justifies his actions by saying it’s for the betterment of the world, and he avoids guilt by adopting a God-complex that plays on his already inflated ego, something he’s only able to do because of the “power” of the Death Note. He’s been lying constantly throughout his life, pretending to be the perfect son, student, citizen, and overall person – always polite to your face even though he thinks he’s better than you. He’s the type of guy to compliment you to your face while mentally insulting you in his head.  So basically, Light Yagami is NOT a good guy. He’s a childish genius who tricked himself into believing his own lies. He pretended to be the perfect person so well for so long, that now even he thinks it’s true.      

Lelouch isn’t like that. Lelouch would never allow the people he cares about to die without putting up a fight, even if it means his own downfall. He proves this multiple times. He may have caused the deaths of innocent people, but you must also keep in mind that Lelouch was fighting a war for the independence of a country. Death in war is expected, we all know this. The only lives that were lost by Lelouch’s hand that weren’t soldiers’ (or just overall bad people’s) lives were accidental.

Like Light, Lelouch is an effortless genius and aware of it, but unlike Light, he does not think he is without fault because of this. Also unlike Light, Lelouch cares about people other than himself. Take their family relationships for example. Light has a younger sister, Sayu. As previously mentioned, he considers killing her to keep the Death Note, as she is being held hostage in exchange for it. By comparison, Lelouch’s younger sister, Nunnally, is his sole purpose for living. She is the reason he wants to make the world a kinder place. And he doesn’t want to do this by enforcing a moral code on everyone like Light. He wants to take down an oppressive monarchy led by his own father. Lelouch would – and does – throw all caution to the wind to protect his little sister, often putting himself at risk. Nunnally isn’t the only one Lelouch risks himself for either. He does so for Suzaku, his best friend, as well. What’s more, he does this even though Suzaku is the one actively opposing him and his greatest threat. However, unlike Light, Lelouch’s biggest concern isn’t his “cause,” it’s the people he’s fighting for. He wants Nunnally, Suzaku, and all his other friends to live in a kinder world. And he’s willing to sacrifice himself to achieve that.

That’s another key different between Light and Lelouch though. Lelouch knows that some of the things he has done are inexcusable, but he prioritizes the betterment of the world over himself. Not to give out spoilers for a show that ended a decade ago or anything, but Lelouch plans his own death specifically for that reason. He has no intention of asking for forgiveness for what he’s done or trying to justify it. He’s happy to die a villain if it means the world is a kinder place. Meanwhile, Light’s cause ends with him. Sure, there was a cult following left behind for Kira. But Light’s plans failed with his death, because, as he said himself, he planned to rule over his “utopia” for a long time. Maybe initially he cared about the betterment of the world, but eventually that ideal was lost in the fog of his fucking God-complex. He was more like a cult leader than a God though. There’s no doubt in my mind he’d eventually kill people just for questioning or speaking out against Kira. After all, he’s perfect and good, and therefore anyone who opposes him is evil apparently. He didn’t make the world better, he scared the bad people into hiding. And once the threat of Kira was gone for good, there’s no doubt in my mind they all came out again anyway.  

The comparison between Lelouch and Light is kind of laughable with this in mind. They may both be the morally questionable protagonists of shows that came out around the same time (though the Death Note manga is older than Code Geass). However, while Light is just a plain piece of shit person with an extremely fucking inflated ego – a true villain really – Lelouch is more of an anti-hero. Though both have done terrible things and caused many people’s deaths, it’s important to consider the context of their actions. And stop saying they’re the fucking same. Please.        

[juuvio]

Pokémon trainer Kuroo Tetsurou wants to battle!

Haikyuu!!/Pokémon [Kuroo Tetsurou / Sawamura Daichi]

Genre: Crossover, alternate universe

Rating: General audiences 

SUMMARY

Two ex Pokémon League Champions abandon their high titles to embark on a self fulfilling journey across the world; fate does them justice by having the two cross paths.

Also available on AO3!

CHAPTERS: 1/1

Cities sure were lively locations, filled with luminous lights of varying colors and vibrancy all throughout the brightly lit streets. A completely different atmosphere from the city’s outskirts that homed the many bug type pokémon. Although Sawamura Daichi had enjoyed his time exploring forests, caves and the seas, it was only a matter of time before the constant moving around took it’s toll on him. However with this freedom to travel, he had all the time in the world to rest before he got back to his engaging adventure he had been embarking on up to this moment.

Saffron city had it’s fair share of restaurants and café’s alike, a wide range of choices on what to eat. Daichi took it upon himself to try just about everything he passed by, the money made from his on road battles being more than enough to allow him to spend carelessly on luxuries. He sat himself on an outside bench with a warm panini and had a moment of peace with himself as he looked towards the dimming sky, the moon and stars vaguely beaming in the approaching darkness. He would have loved the share this moment with his pokémon, but their large sizes would likely scare off other pedestrians.

A soft purring distracted Daichi from his wandering thoughts, dark eyes falling to meet with large, violet ones. They shone brilliantly, a glimmering gaze reflecting the barely woken moon off. It was an Espeon, as cute as any Espeon Daichi had to admit yet he quite honestly could say he rarely ran into one. They were a struggle to evolve into one after all, this one must have a good trainer. Come to think of it, where was it’s trainer?

“Hey there,” Daichi said, gently reaching a hand towards the Espeon who butted it’s head into his palm. It’s short coat felt silky under his touch. “You lost?”

It pulled away from him and looked up questioningly, tilting it’s head to the side as it let out a sort of purring and meowing sound at once.

“Espeeeeeon, c’mon I’m starving and I’m bored of this game if you don’t stick to one hiding spot!”

The mystery voice had a smooth tenor and a husky touch to it. Daichi turned in search for the source and spotted only that atrocious hair. It was wild, completely unruly and apparently unkempt, flicking off into every direction known to man. The trainer had bangs that fell over his right eye and a small undercut beneath the obsidian forest on top. It sort of suited him. The way he was decorated in various ear piercings and gauged ear lobes, finely detailed tattoos embedded beneath the golden skin of his arms. Daichi never often ran into such delinquent looking figures, even during his time in the Pokémon League where he was exposed to all sorts of people. Must have been a city thing, considering it was a rarity to pass by a fellow travelling with more than two ear piercings.

The trainer wore a plain black t-shirt and black jeans, a pale grey hooded jacket tied around his waist and a red backpack. Backpack? Must be travelling too perhaps. He visibly perked up upon hearing Espeon cry out again, the cat like pokémon trotting off gracefully to its trainer’s open arms. Daichi listened into his trainer fussing over his pokémon for a moment and smiled to himself, he definitely looked like he took good care of his pokémon.

“Hey! Thanks man,” he called out, drawing a perplexed expression out of Daichi.

“Huh— oh, I did nothing… Espeon just happened to be wandering around here,” Daichi waved off, seeing a soft smile curl the corners of the trainer’s mouth.

He stepped over, still holding Espeon in his arms and shot out an arm towards Daichi. “Kuroo Tetsurou… Nice to meet you…”

“Oh, Sawamura Daichi. Nice to meet you too Kuroo,” he replied, taking his hand in a firm shake. They were cold to touch, but it felt nice against Daichi’s warm skin. He couldn’t help but notice the gentle smile plastered across Kuroo’s face, which was in fact anything but gentle. The cunning type… “You live around here?”

“Nah, passing through. Exploring the Kanto region! I’m from Lumiose City in Kalos, things sure are different over here…”

“Travelling? Same actually, I’m from Oreburgh City in the Sinnoh region,” he paused as he considered mentioning he was a former champion, but Kuroo spoke before he could.

“Sinnoh region… Sick, wanna battle?”

Of course, there was no chance of simply talking to a fellow trainer without engaging in a pokémon battle. Daichi was lucky he visited the pokémon centre today. “Sure.” He guessed like every other battle he’d been in since travelling, would be over in near an instant. The only battle her considered a challenge was weeks ago against a particularly pretty doe-eyed boy with a Milotic. What was his name again… Oikawa?

Kuroo smirked and looked down towards Espeon, who looked back up at him adoringly. “Fancy going first?” It mewed with a clear smile in it’s tone, hopping out of his arms and flicking out it’s twintails. Daichi waited for Kuroo to back off a little before pondering who to bring out first. Espeon was considerably smaller compared to his whole team, but he’d be a fool to believe size determines the outcome of the battle. However he just couldn’t help it seeing the past 50 battles he won bare barely lifting a finger. “Let’s see what you got, fellow traveller Sawamura~”

He wanted to laugh, this poor guy didn’t know what he was getting himself into. “Alright, let’s make this quick, Kangaskhan!” He lobbed the ultra ball into the air, the capsule snapping open in a blinding light to reveal his Kangaskhan.

“Espeon, single beam—”

“Sucker punch Kangaskhan!”

Espeon was briskly interrupted by the sucker punch, it’s dark type properties making it a hard hit on Espeon.

“Smart move,” Kuroo mumbled, directing Espeon to go full offensive. Kangaskhan’s sucker punch only worked so many times before the hits started piling up on her through Espeons sweeping and fast hits.

Daichi underestimated him for sure, his Espeon was sure a mean hitter, and Kangaskhan’s durability was coming to the end of its tether. Thankfully, Espeon wasn’t entirely durable.

“Espeon, nice job… Return.” Kuroo barely sounded sullen, in fact he was rather smug. “Kangaskhan looks a bit worse for the wear!”

Toxic! Shit— The damn thing didn’t go down alone, as Daichi’s side was next to hit the ground. “You did great, return.”

The pair began to take notice to the growing number of bystanders watching this nerve wracking battle, but were hasty to move on.

“You’re better than I thought, Sawamura!” Kuroo called out from the distance, leaving Daichi to snort. If only this guy knew he was taking on a former champion. Kuroo threw a dusk ball into the air without any words spoken, the void like energy striking out to reveal a Weavile.

Ice type, you should handle that…  “Arcanine, go!”

“Oya, oya, look at that. Type advantage!”

This damn guy, he likes to talk huh. “Flare blitz!”

It looked like a solid hit, and considering the type advantage Weavile should have gone down a bit harder than it appeared to. In fact, it only looked like a regular attack and barely did a number on it. Daichi caught the sly smirk grace those lips on Kuroo, and now he was really starting to wonder what the hell was on his mind. “Nasty plot.”

The attacks were traded back and forth, mainly Weavile prancing around dodging and boosting itself and Arcanine chasing after it. Eventually, the lion like pokémon landed a particularly hard hit that sent the smaller pokémon flying, and morphing— morphing?

“Aw crap, busted.” It was a Zoroark all along, dirty trick! No wonder those fire moves weren’t doing much against it.

“What the hell, that was good,” Daichi snorted with a smirk, and he was sure even that Zoroark was snickering.

That round soon came to an end with Zoroark winning, who was this guy? A frontier trainer? No way, even against those guys Daichi had an easier time, and his Arcanine rarely went down like that.    

“Steelix!”

“Zoroark, come back,” Kuroo called. Withdrawing? “Luxray!”

Damn, electric. Daichi considered withdrawing, but he had a hunch Kuroo would only do the same. “Alright, ready big guy?” Steelix responded with a rumbling, groan like roar. He may always look grumpy, but Daichi had mastered the ability to read a steel boulder’s expression. This time round, Steelix was more than determined to take on Luxray.

“Charge beam!”

Steelix wasn’t a big dodger, but he sure was study. “You okay?” Daichi checked, waiting for the subtle nod. “Alright let’s ruin their day, earthquake! Keep it contained will you?”

“Oh fuck—” The ripples from the violently trembling ground beneath Luxray was a sure way to give him a bad time, knocking out most of the fight in him. There were a few squeaks and screamed from the crowd watching the fight, the earthquake not being as contained as Daichi hoped.

“We’ll have to work on how to contain that…” He laughed nervously and watched Luxray struggle to get back up. “That did a number on him!”

“Go with another charge beam, that bulky pile of rubble can hit hard but he can’t dodge.”  

Kuroo was right, and those charge beams wore Steelix out at only the second hit, but a swift whack with an iron tail knocked Luxray out before he could land a finishing blow. Now Daichi was really starting to get nervous, but exhilarated as can be. These were the kind of battles he strives to have.

Weavile, the real one Daichi assumed, finished Steelix off with a quick shadow ball, not giving the slower pokémon a chance to even react. Now that’s how you could tell a real Weavile, they were terrifyingly fast. He only prayed Raichu would be able to somewhat keep up.

Now there was a serious change in pace, the speed of an electric type and the speed of the assassin like cat led to an almost unseen battle of blurs. Weavile however, was that one step ahead, and Raichi went down.

“Raichu good job, return. Pangoro go!”

Kuroo’s eyes widened in a brief display surprise before he hardened his features again. “Watch out Weavile…”

Speed wasn’t a perk Pangoro held, but his defense was. “Sky uppercut!”

Weavile barely dodged the first hit, and managed to fit in a few hits before getting hit by Pangoro’s second attempt at sky uppercut. It was an instant knockout. “Aw shit— nice job out there.” Kuroo returned Weavile and gave Daichi a long, hard stare down. Now he looked like he was getting serious. He was now down to three pokémon, and Daichi down to two. He knew for a fact though his Zoroark wouldn’t be able to hold up long against his two fully able pokémon.    

“Zoroark!” The pokémon emerged from the inky energy of the dusk ball, smirking just how it’s trainer does. She didn’t stand much of a chance against Pangoro however, and went down without doing much of a number on him due to her weakened state from the previous fight. “Awesome work…”

“Is someone getting nervous?”

“Says you, I can feel the ground trembling from your shakes! Go, Garchomp!” Daichi’s breath hitched at the name. Now that was a scary dragon, and it’s recognizable shriek sent chills down his spine. Maybe he should withdraw Pangoro and face it with another dragon, Dragonite. No, too risky. If Garchomp manages to get a first hit on her was over for his own Dragon, and then Kuroo still had one more pokémon left.

“Alright, I’m counting on you Pangoro!”

Fair to say, Garchomp was a nightmare. Daichi wondered if his last pokémon was at brutal as this land shark— it must be, and now he only grew more stressed on taking out Garchomp with Pangoro and leaving Kuroo’s best to Daichi’s Dragonite to handle.

The battle between them was long and tedious, but ultimately Garchomp took out Pangoro. “Dragonite!”

“Holy shit, nice Dragonite!”

“Thanks, could say the same for your Garchomp.”

Garchomp was indeed faster than Dragonite, but Dragonite relied on her exquisite dodging and using Garchomps exhaustion to her advantage. He was soon finished off with a dragon pulse with minimal damage done to Dragonite. Now that leaves…

“Final showdown, Gengar!”

Daichi almost choked on air, they had the exact same grin. But behind that fact, Gengars alone are terrifying, but considering the rest of Kuroo’s powerhouse team this one had to be a nasty piece of work itself.

This fight lasted considerably longer than the others, Gengar’s blinding speed and sweeping abilities giving him the advantage of all dodge and dish. Daichi did know if he did get hit, it hurt. Dragonite was no gentle hitter, and Gengar proved that the first time he slipped up against the swing of her tail. The sky was eventually engulfed in darkness, the stars and moon shimmering on the pitch blanket, and they were still fighting.

“Heh… Hey Gengar, been a while since we had such a hard time huh…” Kuroo spoke just loud enough for his pokémon to hear, whom turned his head and grinned passed the weariness.

“Dragonite, look how enthusiastic you are… Guess you like that smug jackass.” Dragonite glanced back towards Daichi and let out a gleeful cry, turning back to glare violently towards Gengar.

“We can do this all night, bring it Sinnoh!”

“Oh yeah? Are you sure? You both look like you need a nice long nap from all that excessive grinning.”

It lasted for another half an hour at most, before the two pokémon finally collapsed on top of each other. The two trained jogged over onto the space declared battlefield to tend to their pokémon, pulling each away from each other to embrace them— with much struggle considering their weight and size.

“Nice one, Gengar. You did awesome.”

“You did brilliant, Dragonite.”

“Return!” The spoke in unison, drawing the fainted pokémon back into their pokéballs.

He two trained shared a gaze before breaking out into bright grins. “What the hell… Do you even know who I am?”

“No clue, enlighten me please.”

“Former champion of Sinnoh… You’re pretty damn good.”

Kuroo gaped at him before he turned his head nervously and scratched the side of his head with a finger. “Former champion… Me too. The post gets pretty boring right?”

He— wait, what? “Hold on… You’re a former champion too?”

“Yep, but it was so bland and boring and I couldn’t be bothered to stay in one place anymore, so I dropped the title to do a bit more exploring before I become a wrinkly plastic bag who can’t do anything.”

“Woah… Same— exactly the same even. Well that explains my great struggle against you.”

“Geez, I’ve never felt so excited when battling someone before. Thanks. Sawamura.”

“No, thank you…” Daichi stood from the ground and helped Kuroo up. “That wore me out, I could use some food.”

“Same, let’s go find somewhere to eat— Or like, can I just ask you on a date?”

“A— huh?!”

“A date, will you go on a date with me, former Sinnoh champion, so I can go home and brag to all my friends how I dated a tough mother fucker like you?”

Daichi was loss for words, and his voice was trapped in the back of his throat for a while. “…Yeah, let’s go on a date. If… You accompany me on my travels.”

Kuroo cocked an eyebrow up and smirked. “Deal.”