#they could fight too. yep that would be nice. there might be blood. on faces. totally optional. but not really.

[running-in-the-dark]

this just occurred to me and now I can't stop thinking about it

I need a crossover of Leverage and The Bear.

basically what I want is just Carmy and Eliot in a kitchen together. cooking or whatever, I don't care, cutting things with knives, just standing there, anything.

[breakfastteatime]

The comm system beeps. Finally, it’s Cal. Kid’s been cut off for way too long, despite all of Cere’s technical wizardry. Greez can tells she's been worried, no matter how serene she pretends to be. Looks like there was no need for worry after all. He turns to hear what kept Cal off comms for so long.

Except Cere isn't talking.

And neither is Cal.

Greez knows something’s gone horribly wrong the moment Cere looks at him, eyes wide with horror. She flicks a switch, and a voice that is distinctly not Cal’s hits the air. And there’s a visual to match, shining from the holotable. Greez leaves the cockpit on wobbly legs to see a figure he’d hoped to never encounter again.

“Why, if it isn’t my old buddy Greezy Four Arms! Thought you’d got away from me, huh? Alas, I never forget a debt.”

Absolute panic rips through Greez, and yet somehow he finds his voice. “Sorc, hey, uh, how’s it going?”

“Well, I’d say it’s going pretty well, seeing as I’ve got a friend of yours on his way to me." Sorc flashes a toothy grin, his alabaster skin lit up with a sickly blue hue. "We’ll have to thank him for uniting us again, oh, not that he’s really able to hear you right now. Not to worry, I'll be sure to fill him in later.”

Greez might actually pass out. He can barely draw the breath needed to talk. “Not sure I’ve got too many friends,” he says, as nonchalantly as possible as Cere steps closer.

“Sure you do. Although, I’m not sure where you found this one. A real, live, breathing Jedi! Who knew the Empire missed any. Y’know there are plenty of folks out there who’d pay a sweet, sweet price for this one.”

The holo-projection changes, Cal replacing Sorc. He’s slumped on his side in some unknown ship’s hold, unconscious and bound in cable, blood clumping his hair together where he’s clearly taken a hefty blow. BD-1 is next to him, a restraining bolt visible on his chassis. Cere’s intake of breath echoes across the lounge.

"My bounty hunter's not taking any chances," Sorc says, his voice overlaying the image. "Never could trust a Jedi."

Sorc’s got Cal. He’s got Cal and he’s hurt him. Greez drags up something to say. He has to. He owes Cal this much at least. “Don’t hurt him, Sorc. The kid’s got nothing to do with anything.”

Sorc delights in this. The image flicks back to him as he chortles. “Ah, so you do know him. And his little droid friend too, I’m guessing. I did wonder what you’re doing in such a backwater part of the galaxy, but you were always good at finding the strangest of holes to dig yourself into, Greez.” He shakes his head as though in despair. “One of my bounty hunters found him. They got a little heavy-handed, sure, but we all know the stories about the Jedi. Can’t ever be too careful, huh?” His is a smug smirk. “Here’s hoping he puts on a good show when he comes around. He’ll need to, to pay off your debt.”

There’s nothing Greez can do or say to convince Sorc otherwise. “Leave him out of this.”

“I could, but I won’t. Heard he put up a good fight too before he was put down. I wanna see what he can do against some of my favourite beasties. If he survives that, maybe I’ll hand him back over to the Scrapper's Guild, earn myself a nice little finder’s fee. I’m guessing you’re not the only one with a few debts hanging over him.” Sorc bursts out into greedy laughter. “Yep, I can tell, this is gonna be a good day!”

The holotable goes suddenly dark. Greez looks, sees Cere already at her station, working hard to trace the signal. Her face is blank, emotionless, and somehow that’s more terrifying than her shouting at him. Not that Cere’s ever done that, but somehow rage would be easier to handle. Cal, through no fault of his own, has been caught up in Greez’s old mess.

Whatever it takes, they’re getting that kid and the droid back.

Greez knows where Sorc will take him. He’s been there plenty of times, lost a whole mess of bets on the fights. He races back to his chair and grabs the controls. “We’re going in fast and messy,” he says.

“You’re damn right we are,” Cere says.

[mxthtea]

oh hey another one of my own ideas *shoves my 12 req to the side*

scara x gn!lreader / cyno x gn!reader warnings: scars, touching said scars, reader's shirtless (nothing described), mentions of past injuries and battles, the boys are so ooc they might as well just be an oc, written before scara n cyno's releases, grammar + spelling mistakes, lowercase writing, tell me if i forgot any description: his touch felt nice against your cheek, running across one of your many scars placed there. you tilted your face into his palm and kissed his hand. you loved him, just as he loved all of you. word count: 1.4k beginning: 185 scara: 603 cyno: 642

(i dont have a cyno banner yet)

his touch feels so nice against you. as one of his arms is wrapped around you with the other reaching up to your face. his touch was gentle as it glided across your skin. he stopped at your collarbone, lightly tracing over a mark that went across it. you couldn't remember how you got it. it wasn't one of the deeper ones, so you just forgot about it.

his hand moved up to one on your neck. it wasn't one of the worst either but you remember the story behind it, you bet he remembers too. you felt his arms get the slightest bit tighter around you. his thumb rubbed against it for a few seconds before finally moving up to your face. there were scratches he ran his fingers over. a scratch that went across your nose that you got from hilichurls. it wouldn't scar at least.

his touch felt nice against your cheek, running across one of your many scars placed there. you tilted your face into his palm and kissed his hand. you loved him, just as he loved all of you.

scaramouche

scaramouche is always unusually quiet in these times. you always wondered why but never bothered to ask him, just in case it was something sensitive to him. you'd wait if he ever wanted to tell you.

scara's hand moved from your cheek, wrapping it around your back as he brought you close to him. he tucked his head into you bare shoulder. he wasn't usually like this, but it was nice.

"do you have a long mission soon?" you asked.

you moved your hand up into his hair as he leaned further into your shoulder.

"...no," he replied. his arms tightened around you as he tried to get you even closer to him.

you nodded as you continued to run your hands through his hair. his hands moved across your back and felt across the scars there too.

"your own soldiers aren't that kind," you joked.

there was a burn that was close to your shoulder, the one scara was laying his head on. you remember the burn it gave, and the anger and concern in scara's voice that day.

"i know," he whispered. his hand ghosted over the burn before he laid his hand on it.

"your skin is so smooth compared to mine… clean in a way."

the harbinger had way less scars compared to you. he had a few across his skin, you always found them nice. you'd compliment them when you could and lightly kiss them. sometimes he'd complain about it, though the smallest bit of red on his cheeks proved you otherwise.

"yet yours has more of a story to tell…" scara said, "how you seem to always make it through the worse. and also a reminder for me scold you more when you come back with blood all over you and your weapon cut in half."

you chuckled at the last part, you even felt a small smile form on scara's face against your shoulder.

"i guess that is true, but i bet yours is nicer to hold though. your skin is soft."

"who said you weren't nice to hug?"

"well i just thought about it -"

"shush, you feel fine."

you let out an amused breath as scara didn't reply any further. you weren't wrong really, scara was nice to hold. his skin felt soft, smooth, you'd be lying if you said you weren't jealous at times when you thought about it. who knew a harbinger, someone who gets orders from the tsaritsa herself, could still look as clean as ever. seemingly untouched by some battles somehow. though you knew that part was completely false.

"you are completely fine," scara said, "i see no problem with how you feel to hold. you're… nice."

well you didn't completely expect that. it was a nice surprise though. you leaned further into scara's touch as the room went silent again. it was a welcomed one though, a silence to bask in each others presence.

he'd hold you like this for a bit longer, running his hands across your skin and tracing your scars. he was amazed you'd let him see you in your bare form. but he was thankful as well, having you trust in him. soon he'd fall asleep against you again, after finally tracing every part of you again as well. you'd wish him goodnight and lay down with him to slowly drift off to sleep next to him.

he was thankful for the amount of trust you had for him, and you were thankful for him to love every piece of you as he did. even the marked and scarred skin of yours. he loved you, truly.

cyno

cyno was a scholar, one that wouldn't travel often. you on the other hand, traveled a lot across teyvat. yet you'd always come back to him. it's no wonder you'd come back with scars on your body and blood on your face. that doesn't mean it didn't worry him though.

"is your nose okay?" cyno whispered.

"mhm, just a small scratch from fighting hilichurls. reported it to the knights when i went to talk to lisa," you said.

"is lisa doing alright?"

"yep, lazy as ever. we had some tea together, it was nice."

cyno nodded as he ran his hand across your face. his touch felt so gentle against you, he could never hurt you then. and he would never hurt you either.

you felt his other hand move downward. down from your stomach and to your thigh. there was another large-ish scar laying there.

"couldn't walk for a while after getting this one, as you probably remember," you laughed dryly. the memories were still present.

the scholar didn't respond, simply running his hands across the scar. he remembered you having to stay in bed for a long time after getting captured by those treasure hoarders. he didn't expect them to be so violent, but at least cyno was able to track you down in time.

his hand moved abruptly from your thigh to your face, cradling your face in both of his hands.

"cyno? is there something wrong?"

"no, not at all," as all he said.

he kissed your forehead. then he kissed the top of your nose, then both of your cheeks, and finally moved to your lips. it was sweet and quick, just like you're used to. but the quick kiss was full of love and adoration of you, something you could tell easily from cyno.

"i hate seeing you get hurt, you know?" he said, pulling away from you slightly. "the times i've seen you come home with bandages across you chest, arms, face, and legs even. it hurts to see."

you leaned into his touch, letting out a deep breath in thought. you did feel bad for worrying him, coming home all of the time battered up with bruises and scratches across your body. you felt bad each time it happened. cyno was a busy man after all.

"i'm sorry cyno… truly. i don't mean to worry you," you whispered against him.

the scholar leaned closer to you, touching his forehead against yours.

"i just don't want to see you get irreversibly injured… to be stuck down to one place, it'd seem like torture to you. so i wish i could join you when you leave, but it is hard with where i am currently."

you moved your hands to remove cyno's hoodie, just so you could run your fingers through his long hair. you always thought it was beautiful.

"i'll try to stay safe for you. so i don't worry you as much."

"i am aware at times it is impossible to avoid injury. but i ask of you, please look out for yourself as well."

you took another deep breath in before replying, "i will, cyno."

he nodded against you, moving to once again kiss you. though this time it was longer than before. cyno once again wrapped his arms around you as he fell back into the bed. laying you on top of him as he waited to fall asleep with you with him once again.

he loved you, every part of you. he loved how you fought, how you never stood down to an opponent. just how you loved him as well. you loved how he always persevered in his academics, how well he did. how he never seemed to get truly mad at you for something. he loved each part of you, and you loved each part of him as well.

[rheawritessometimes]

A Bad Deal

{ Childe x GN!Reader }

{ Summary } A continuation of "Childe gets an owie." Series Masterlist

{ Warnings } Mention of Injury, Physical Intimacy, Undefined Relationship, Questionable Behavior, Bad Writing, Please Let Me Know if Anything Needs to be Added.

{ Notes } I realized when I decided to write this that I didn't title the last fic, but the best works are always untitled. Not really I'm just forgetful. This time Childe can have mercy. I was so surprised with the response to the last fic, the amount of people who liked it was a huge surprise. Also, the comments on it were so kind. So obviously I needed to write a follow-up right away. I hope it's equally as enjoyable. Set up for a continuation if people like it. Masterlist

{ Word Count } 1,940

Getting Childe back to Liyue was a simple affair, he wasn't hindered by any pain he might have been in. The Snezhnayan wasn't one to complain about pain, even if he wasn't numbed up. He seemed to be in a cheerful mood, chattering animatedly as you walked. The fact he intentionally moved closer to you so that your shoulders occasionally brushed did not escape your notice. Neither of you said anything about it.

Luckily the Golden House wasn't very far from the harbor and the path was clear of any monsters, for which you were thankful. You were more than capable of handling most monsters on your own, but you were worried Childe would jump into combat and end up hurting himself more than he already had been. He was capable as a fighter but you thought him to be too reckless.

The visit to Bubu Pharmacy was entirely uneventful, it was confirmed that Childe had two broken ribs on his right side and he was given some medication for the pain. There wasn't much else to be done other than recommend regularly icing the area and no strenuous activities. That was expected, broken ribs were good at healing naturally, given rest. You wondered if it would even be possible for him to take it easy as a Harbinger, but it seemed the other Harbingers weren't as active as him so perhaps it was possible.

"I think I can just take it easy for two weeks and then go back to business as usual," Childe remarked as you began down the stairs. You looked at him with a frown, wondering if he was serious. This man had no regard for his long-term wellbeing.

"You need to rest for six weeks, at least. It's better for you to recover entirely before you get back to... whatever it is you do," you said with a stern tone. Sometimes it really did seem like Childe was a child. Haha.

"I'm a busy guy, I can't take that kind of time off," he argued, not seeming concerned by that in the slightest. It was true that broken ribs weren't the worst injury to work around, but it still wasn't wise to be so careless.

"Well, you're a valuable asset to Snezhnaya, surely you'd be allowed time off to recover. The Tsaritsa must be at least that understanding," you reasoned, now realizing you were walking along with him not sure where you were going. You didn't even know where he lived, it was clear he didn't spend his nights on the streets at least.

The Harbinger hummed thoughtfully, clearly scheming. You wondered what excuse he would come up with. Probably something about how he was 'very strong and can recover quickly'. You could almost scoff at the mere thought, it seemed entirely in character for him.

"Alright, I'll request time off to recover," he said, grinning cheekily, "if you help me while I recover."

You raised a questioning brow, that was something you hadn't predicted he was considering. Still, you cared enough for him to want him to fully recover, and helping him out wasn't beyond your abilities. Aside from one attempt to destroy Liyue, he had been pretty harmless.

"You'll rest for the whole six weeks?" you asked, still skeptical. You weren't sure it was possible for him to stay away from a fight for that long.

"Yep, I promise."

"Alright, deal."

Childe offered you his hand to shake, and you took it. Looking back on it, it was probably not the best idea to solidify your agreement in the land of contracts. Not when the terms hadn't been thoroughly discussed, at least.

"Great, you can stay at my apartment while I recover," he chirped, opening a door to what you assumed to be his apartment. You hadn't even realized you'd arrived in front of the building, too busy trying to convince Childe to take care of himself.

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly closed it when an ominous feeling washed over you. For some reason, it felt like it would be unwise to break your agreement. You silently cursed your past self, maybe you were the careless one.

Your displeasure must have been showing on your face because Childe laughed after seeing your expression. You clenched your jaw, but decided it would be better if you didn't say anything, he was certain to tease you if you rose to the bait.

"Second floor," he said as you walked down the hall, gesturing to a stairwell. He huffed once as you were going up the stairs, and you could only assume the numbness was beginning to fade. A wave of guilt washed over you at the thought. You broke his ribs and forced him to take off work for six weeks, so you were probably out of the running for friend of the year.

You could immediately tell which door led to Childe's apartment when you got to the second floor, there was a Fatui guard standing outside of it. He looked entirely out of place and you could imagine he was bored out of his mind just standing there. When he noticed your presence he eyed you suspiciously but said nothing, instead bowing his head to Childe.

The Harbinger completely ignored his subordinate, opening the door to his apartment and ushering you inside. Once the door was closed he ran a hand through his hair, letting out what sounded like a sigh of relief. It was probably nice to be home and finally able to relax after all that walking around with broken ribs.

"Your guard doesn't seem to like me," you remarked absently as you scanned his apartment. It was clean and surprisingly spacious, but a little bare. The floors were hardwood and there was a large carpet in the middle of the living room, with a sofa and some other furniture atop it. There were no houseplants to be seen.

"Yeah, I don't bring many people home," Childe laughed in response, plopping down on his couch which had no throw pillows or blankets. There was a wooden coffee table in front of it, but not much else around it.

"Oh, are you having relationship troubles?" you quipped in response, lips quirking up at the corners. He scoffed indignantly at your words.

"Have you seen this face? Of course not, I'm just waiting on the right person," he stated, lying sprawled across the couch. You shook your head at this, moving to the kitchen in hopes of finding some ice. Childe didn't say anything about you snooping around his kitchen, so you assumed there was nothing he felt he had to hide in there.

After gathering a dish towel and some ice, you came back with the make-shift icepack. He hadn't had a proper icepack in his freezer, which surprised you considering his line of work. Maybe later you would head back up to the pharmacy to get some.

"Ice your side for now. You should wash up and get changed soon," you told him after you handed him the icepack. While there had been no blood the fight was physically straining, so he probably needed to clean up. You realized after saying this that you had no change of clothes here, you'd need to go back to your place to get some things if he planned on having you stay here for six weeks.

"Okay, mom," he joked in response, you could only roll your eyes at this. He left the icepack laying on the right side of his chest, not bothering to hold it in place. You didn't bother to nag him about it, it was close enough.

"I'm going back to my place to get some stuff, I shouldn't be gone for long," you announced, turning to leave the apartment.

"Wait!" he shouted, sitting up suddenly, the icepack sliding down into his lap. "You owe me a kiss!"

You turned to look at him, a bit surprised by him shouting. You had forgotten about that entirely, but you did promise. So you walked over to the couch and leaned down to press your lips against his. You had intended for it to be a brief kiss, but his hand gently held your wrist and the other went up to brush against your jaw.

With a sigh you deepened the kiss, allowing yourself him to indulge for a little while. You were surprised by the slow pace he set, but certainly not displeased. He gently bit your bottom lip before pulling away, opening his eyes and giving you a smug look when he noticed your face had become a bit flushed.

"Get washed up and put clean clothes on while I'm gone," you said as you pulled away, trying to seem as unflustered as possible. It wasn't very effective, if his laughter as you fled the apartment was anything to go by.

Gathering everything you thought you would need from your apartment was entirely uneventful, you tried to pack everything you'd need for six weeks into a duffel bag but it was hopeless. You were bound to forget things and a duffel bag isn't much space, so you decided you could just come back whenever you needed something.

The Fatui guard stationed outside Childe's apartment was not shy about giving you a dirty look as you approached. It was safe to say the Harbinger probably didn't often have company. The guard seemed particularly suspicious of your bag, like that was the thing to worry about when it was commonplace to materialize weapons out of thin air.

"Stop," he ordered in a booming voice as you neared the door. You followed his order, halting outside the door. You proceeded to stare him dead in the eyes as you knocked three times on the door.

It swung open shortly after, Childe stepping out of the way to let you in. The way the guard clenched his jaw made you feel very smug.

"You don't have to knock, just come in," he said, and you were silently very thankful for those words. It was a little something extra to rub it in. Perhaps your loathing was a little misplaced, that man was likely not one who had attacked you in the past. But, he did still give you a dirty look and was none too polite, so there was something. Sometimes people are petty, and that's okay.

Once you were inside the apartment, you noticed Childe had showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes. The white t-shirt and grey sweatpants were rather different from his usual look, but it strangely suited him rather well. Maybe everything looks good on him because he's a pretty Fatui boy.

"How are you feeling?" you asked, shifting the weight of your bag as you followed him to the kitchen.

"Good, doesn't hurt much. What do you want for dinner?" he asked, opening the cupboards to survey their contents. How casual the atmosphere was made it feel awfully domestic.

"Um, I'm fine with whatever you make," you replied, banishing the thought from your mind. You weren't really sure about your feelings on the matter yet so you would push them all off to the side and sort through them some other time.

"Oh, right. There's a spare room down the hall across from the bedroom. You can put your stuff in there," he said, looking over at you standing in the doorway with your bag. You were already walking away when he added, "Or you're welcome to stay in my bedroom with me~"

"You wish."

Maybe six weeks with Childe wouldn't be too bad.

[weirdthinkingdragon]

Welcome To The Family (4/???)

1/ 2/ 3 here

Note- This festival is a different one than the festival arc.  Sorry if the ending seems kinda sudden. Didn’t really know how to end it. 

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

I’m unsure what time exactly they will be here. They probably should have told me that before, now that I think about it. Luckily, everyone is passed out by sunrise so that’s not an issue of them seeing who is in the vehicle. My issue is them possibly entering here, so I should probably wait outside. 

On my way to get outside, I run into the mold-quirked male. He’s passed out on the floor in the hall. His really long, oddly-textured white hair sprawled everywhere around him. I’ve never touched it, but just by looking at it, the hair seems weird. It looks like what fuzzy mold possibly feels like if that makes sense. Makes me wonder if his hair IS mold. Gross, no thanks. 

I wonder whether to wake him or let him sleep. I decided to just let him sleep and walk over his body. 

Exiting the building, it was like there was never loud music blaring, or even a party. No mess anywhere. That must be how they get away with it. 

I brought my money with me to play a few games, but nothing extreme. Of course, I should be safe around three heroes, but not taking any chances is still the better option than bringing all of it. 

It only takes a few minutes for the familiar black car to pull up. Being texted they were on their way would have been nice, but beggars can’t be choosers. Hitoshi exits the car for me to get in. 

I’m greeted by the very happy smile of Eri. That will never be a tiring sight to see. I buckle up and lean over since her arms are outstretched for a hug. 

From the view of Aizawa in the front, he’s dressed decently today, and even his hair looks much tidier than I’ve ever seen it. The same for the first time he’s wearing something besides his hero outfit. No doubt Hizashi made him do it, or even more likely he did it for Aizawa himself. He still has that scarf though. I resist the urge to laugh at the thought of him unwillingly being tidied up by Hizashi. 

In speaking of Hizashi, I’ve never seen his hair not standing up before. It’s a good look in the half-bun, but I wonder what it would look like fully down. Nope, don’t think too far into that. That’s kinda weird. 

“Morning Y/N!” Hizashi exclaims. 

“Morning guys! What’s planned first when we get there?”

“Eri wants to get a candy apple. She loves them after last time.”

I look at her. “Candy apples? Why did you never tell me? We could have made those at some point before.” 

“It should be more of a treat than a daily thing,” Aizawa says. 

“Says the one who pretty much lives off jelly pouches,” Hizashi informs.

“Like you’re much better with forgetting sometimes to eat at all.” Aizawa shoots back at him. 

Jelly pouches? How in the world is he still in such great shape then? Obviously fighting and training often helps, but that sounds like multiple deficiencies just waiting to happen. Same with Hizashi. Jeez, these two seem rather irresponsible sometimes. At least they’re focused on their kids since I’ve never heard Eri telling me they forgot to feed her. 

“You know how to make them?” Hitoshi asks. 

I look at him and nod. “Yep. I helped a friend in the past who was in a candy apple tournament with their other friends. Whoever could make the coolest-looking ones wins. They sadly got second place, but to me, galaxy apples look a lot cooler than the tree candy apples that won. You couldn’t even bite the top of the silly things without breaking your teeth!” 

Eri gasps and puts a hand on her mouth in the thought of breaking her teeth. 

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t make them even if I could.”

She nods relieved. 

We get to the festival and Hizashi finds somewhere to park the car. 

Walking around, I could swear we passed a few familiar faces to me. The games are rather interesting and pull me towards them, but we can go to them later since Eri wants a candy apple. 

I notice Hizashi and Aizawa refraining from holding hands though they seem to want to. I try to come up with a reason for why that might be. Not very likely they’d be recognized by villains since they look like entirely different people. Hmm… Obviously, Hitoshi and Eri wouldn’t care. 

The only other thing I can think of is their students. Of course, their students might be able to recognize them. Did they not tell their students they’re married or something? I know Midoriya wouldn’t care since I met him, but maybe there are a few in his class that wouldn’t be too open-minded about it? It’s not my place, whatever is the cause. I do feel a little bad though they can’t act normally. 

Hizashi suddenly stops, making the rest of us stop, and pulls out his phone. He reads something with a frown forming on his face. He pockets it and looks at me. “Yo, Y/n? Could ya hang out with Hitoshi and Eri alone for a bit? Sho and I gotta go take care of something that came up.” 

Hero work I’m guessing. Poor guys, they really can’t seem to catch a break. “Of course!” 

They both then run back in the direction we came from. I look at Eri and Hitoshi. “Well, should we continue looking?” 

Eri happily nods.

Hitoshi goes in front of me with Eri, probably leading the way since he seems to know where they are. I stay rather close behind them so no one gets between us and we lose each other from how crowded it seems to be in this area. 

Over the music, I can swear I hear tiny explosions quickly getting louder, and maybe closer? Coming from behind me. I turn around to see people clearing from behind me to show an angry blond coming up incredibly quickly. Explosions crackling from his hands. His feral glaring face was enough to put so much fear in me that I freeze in my place. I clench my eyes closed and wait for an impact that no doubt is going to be painful.

“Kacchan, stop! They’re Eri’s babysitter!!!” A very familiar voice yells to the blond in front of me. 

He stops with one of his hands millimeters from my face. I can hear the sizzling and feel the heat radiating off of it onto my face. I slowly open my eyes to meet his still-glaring ones. 

… Isn’t he one of Aizawa’s and Hizashi’s students? I think he was one farther in the back frowning in the picture I saw on my first day. 

In the blink of an eye, Hitoshi slightly pulls me back, and stands in front of me, preventing the blond from coming close again. Midoriya is running up to us as well. He tries to cheer me up by giving me a kind wave. It does little to help my still-panicked state. 

Eri hugs me by my side in worry. I feel like fainting. 

The blond becomes slightly less tense at realizing she’s hugging me.

“Hah? How the hell was I supposed to know with the way the damn extra was following so closely?”

“Uh… Kacchan, I don’t think Shinsou would be so open for attacks…” 

The blond glares at him like Midoriya is the dumbest person on the planet. He refused to reply, and just storms off. 

Midoriya looks at me and smiles sheepishly with one of his hands behind his head. “So sorry about that! Kacchan can be rather… headstrong when villains might be involved.”

I just shakily nod. “Uh… y-yeah, good first impression.” 

Hitoshi’s face grows into one of great worry, and I think some anger. He puts one of his arms behind my back as a sort of comfort and support. Surprisingly, it helps a little bit. 

“I think I need to sit down for a moment.” 

“There should be some benches not too far from here,” Midoriya informs, and we get there after a bit. Miraculously, one of them was empty. I sit down with Hitoshi to the left of me. Eri sits on my right, clearly struggling in trying to figure out how to help.

Midoriya stands at my right, in front of Eri’s spot. He seems to be in thought for a moment. “Togata has a surprise the next time we come over. He found a new dress he wants you and Eri to judge.”

That sunshine adult makes me end up smiling slightly. Shinsou seems a bit annoyed at the mention of the kind blond. “Aw, that means Eri and I will have to make him another tiara so it will match his new dress.” 

“I hope it’s poofy!” Eri chimes in. 

I smile at her. “What color do you think it will be? Maybe it will be green! We should have one where we all wear green to match your tea set!” 

Her eyes shine in excitement at the idea. 

“I uh, I guess I have that covered,” Midoriya says. 

“You know you don’t HAVE to wear a dress, right? I bet you’d look great in a green suit too! Ooh! You could be the beloved butler!” 

“I think I’ll just stick with the dress I have… It was so awkward telling my mom about it back when I got it. I don’t know if I could ask her to buy something else too.” 

Hitoshi gets a message on his phone and pulls it out. I’m too focused on Midoriya and Eri. Going on that idea of Togata helped calm me down greatly. 

“That’s understandable. Suits can be rather expensive.”

“Midoriya?” Hitoshi suddenly pipes up. 

“Yeah, Shinsou?”

“You might want to run. Ashido knows you’re here and wants to give you more dance lessons.”  

His eyes widen fearfully, and he takes off while looking around. 

“I didn’t get to hug him…” Eri says rather disappointedly. 

“What’s wrong with dance lessons?” I question.

He has a rather large grin on his face. It kind of creeps me out a bit. How can someone be such a perfect combination of two adults that aren’t blood-related to them? “He usually doesn’t mind them, but recently they got struck with a personality-changing quirk. They became sterner than my dad.” It was easy to tell which dad he meant. 

Just thinking of someone even more serious and stern than him is terrifying. I bet Aizawa isn’t too happy to be stuck dealing with that. 

Hitoshi also seems rather relieved Midoriya has left. Wonder what’s up with that. 

I look at Eri. “Well, why don’t we continue to find your candy apple now that things are a little more settled?” 

She nods, and the three of us stand up. 

It doesn’t take long to find them. They look rather unappealing compared to my friend’s homemade, but I’m not going to bring that up.

After Hitoshi gives it to her, she looks at it for a second, then looks at me. “What is your favorite jewel?” That’s an odd question out of nowhere. Then again, maybe the hard shell makes her think of rocks?  

“Why do you want to know?” 

She shrugs. “They’re so pretty. I like the red ones!”

Red like the candy apple? How cute. I tell her my favorite.  

Hitoshi pulls out his phone and texts someone again. “Something is holding our parents up. It might be at least a few hours before they return.” 

I feel rather bad for them for that. Being a hero is something I thank them for daily, but it must be so exhausting not being able to spend time with your family… 

“Okay. What should we do then? I don’t think we should do any rides for now from Eri eating.”

Hitoshi shrugs. “The only thing we really can do is games unless there’s a different food you’re interested in getting here.”

I shake my head in reply. 

Eri gently tugs at my clothes with her free hand. I look at her and she points at a prize in the shooting game. It’s a stuffed animal of my favorite creature. It’s also my favorite color, and even has a rather similar eye color to mine. Huh, what are the chances of that? 

The game seems simple enough. Hitoshi notices what Eri is pointing at, and smirks at me. He crosses his arms. “Are you going to try first?” 

I get the attention of the person behind the counter and pay, having them give me the corks. I load it and take another quick look at Hitoshi with a smirk myself. “Well, what does it look like? And I’m going to be the one that gets it for her!” 

He teasingly huffs with a roll of his eyes. “Sure you will.”

I look back towards the prize and focus my aim. 

… It misses. Not by much, but my aim is a little too high and too far to the right. 

“You missed.” His tone isn’t condescending in any way. 

“Yeah, yeah. I still have two tries.” 

Looking again, I aim slightly down and more to the left. 

… It missed again, but much closer this time. It’s the right height, but now I have it too far to the left. 

“You missed, again.”

“Hush, you.” I don’t even have to look at him to know he has an enormous smirk forming on his face. I’ll show you!

I force my breathing to slow, focus a little longer, move just a tad to the right...

… Yes! I got it! 

The person goes over and grabs it, giving it to me. I then give it to Eri which gives her an enormous smile on her face. 

I give Hitoshi an “I-told-you-so” face. 

“I would have gotten it on my first try.” 

“Sure you would have.” 

“Next time I’ll show you.” 

“Mhm, whatever you say, Hitoshi.”

After that, we did a few more games and ended up going on a few of the rides. It was rather difficult due to Eri being too small for them. She was a little saddened by that, so I told her maybe she will be able to next year.

Hitoshi and I also ended up getting hungry at one point, so we bought some snacks. After taking a bite of what I bought, I look at the time. Surprisingly, about four hours have passed. I don’t think taking care of a villain should take this long, right? Maybe they got ambushed?

Don’t think about it. They’re pros. They should be able to handle anything. 

In speaking of them, a message from Hizashi pops up on my phone. “Just about done here! Was a rather bad ambush, but we’re good! Gotta clear up a few more things, then we’ll be on our way!” 

He put us in a group chat. Hitoshi is in it, and I’m guessing the other is Aizawa. He reads the message as well. 

Eri is still playing around with her new stuffed animal. 

“Should we do the same rides when your parents come?”

He shakes his head. “They will probably be rather tired when they return. Hizashi wanted to ride the Ferris Wheel with all of us more than anything.”

Why does that seem so accurate for him? “Really? The Ferris Wheel out of everything?”

He shrugs. “My other dad doesn’t really care. He’d rather sleep, but we all know Hizashi wouldn’t allow that.” 

I laugh. “He seems like the type.”

A chill suddenly goes down my spine. Why do I feel like someone is watching us? Hitoshi notices my discomfort, and goes on alert, scanning the crowd around us. He doesn’t seem to see anything concerning. He pulls out his phone and quickly texts someone again, constantly glancing around. 

“Don’t mean to be intrusive, but who are you texting?” 

“My dads. I’m telling them to hurry up.” 

Again, I feel bad for the two grown men. “It shouldn’t be too much of a problem. It’s probably just someone thinking they know me or something.” 

He frowns. “Not taking any chances.” 

I guess that makes sense. “If it’s such a problem, why don’t we find Midoriya to be with us again? I’m sure-”

“No.” He cuts me off. He was rather firm on saying it. 

… No? I thought they were on good terms? “Are you two not on the best terms anymore or something? You don’t seem to want him around.”

“If there is someone watching, it would be better for a student in the top class to not be involved. It could make you a bigger target if your feeling of being watched is correct.” 

Didn’t think of that. It still seems kind of like a ridiculous claim though. After all, Hizashi is a very well-known hero, so what difference would that make between Midoriya being with us or an adult?

 I decided to just brush it off. 

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

Whatever Hitoshi told them must have worked, since they arrived and found us at what must have been a record-breaking speed. 

“Hey guys, you got here quick!”

“Well, we couldn’t let you three have all the fun now, could we?” 

“Speak for yourself.” Aizawa tiredly mumbles. They’re wearing the same outfits they did earlier. I wonder if Hizashi was recognized during his fight. I have a feeling they keep their weapons in the trunk of their car just in case they get called. 

I look at Eri and notice her yawn. I then look back up to Aizawa. “Looks like you’re not the only one that’s tired.” 

He looks at her with the tiniest smile as she yawns again. “Fine. Just a few rides, then we go home.” 

We end up on a few of the rides Eri can go on. I still don’t feel comfortable around Aizawa, so I try my best to sit with Hitoshi and Eri. 

Hizashi keeps looking around as we go on a few of the rides. He tries to be more stealthy about it, but he’s failing at it greatly. Aizawa seems like he couldn’t care less. I should have just ignored it since now I feel like I’m ruining the rides for them for the imaginary odd feeling. 

We decided the very last ride to be the Ferris Wheel. “You guys should go ahead. I’ll wait down here for you.” I inform them. Three out of the four of them look at me like I just grew another head. “What? It will be too tight a squeeze otherwise.” Hizashi just shakes his head and grabs me by one of my wrists to come with. 

The feeling multiplied after he grabbed my wrist, making me forcefully stop and look behind me. He stops as well, looking in the same direction.

“That’s another thing! We can’t just leave you alone down here if someone’s watchin’ ya! C’mon!”

He drags me into the line for it with the others. Luckily, there wasn’t much of a wait. I can’t believe it’s sunset already. I also can’t believe I’m stuck going on it with them. 

We all get into the cart, and I try to sit down with Eri and Hitoshi. Hizashi grabs my wrist again, having me sit between him and Aizawa. It’s a rather tight fit with my thighs and sides being pressed on theirs. This is rather uncomfortable, and definitely something I did NOT sign up for as a sitter… 

At least the sight is beautiful to see with the sun shining brightly to the right side of us. Eri leans against Hitoshi and closes her eyes, hugging her new stuffed animal close. It stays quiet between all of us for a bit. Hizashi slips his arm behind my shoulders, making me tense. I decided he must be trying to give us a bit more room. 

“Sorry for not bein’ around much today to hang out with. Tell ya what, why don’t you join us next Sunday for dinner as an apology?” 

My eyes narrow in thought. “An apology for what? You guys couldn’t help it. It happens.”

He shakes his head. “Come on, we already cleared our schedules for it. It would be heartbreaking if you say no!” 

“But I was planning on hanging out with my friends next Sunday… Why not the Sunday after that?” 

“Just go with it. Having him change his mind is impossible.” 

I mentally sigh. “Fine. But the Sunday after, I won’t be coming. I WILL spend my day with them then, so please don’t invite me into anything.” 

I could swear Hizashi frowns disappointingly at the news, but his face becomes a smile before I can put much thought into it. “Great! Be sure to wear somethin’ at least a little fancy, okay? We’re going somewhere special! Oh! And we’ll pick ya up again!” 

“Okay…” was my only reply.

[lafourmii20]

My favorite pairing is probably DrPepperony if I had to choose one, and I'm a sucker for 30 (the protective one). While I tend to swerve to "people protecting Stephen", please write it however you'd like - if you're interested in this combination. :)

Thank you for the ask, @aelaer 💕

I love drpepperony and I was very happy to write this OT3 with this prompt. It's a bit longer than I thought, and maybe not exactly what you imagined. I hope you like it!

~~~

drpepperony, pre-relationship (could almost be read as gen), hurt stephen, with a bit of blood, protective pepper, protective tony, not clint friendly (sorry i had to find sort of a bad guy), post Endgame but Tony lives and Steve died

~~~

“If you’re so powerful, why couldn’t you save her?!”

Clint’s shout echoed on the lawn, all the way to the cabin. Tony instantly got to his feet.

“Stay with uncle Happy, Maguna.”

He left his drink on a table, and his daughter under Happy’s careful watch, and hurried outside. When he pushed the front door, he frowned, deeply unhappy with the scene.

“I’m sorry,” Stephen whispered in such a thin voice Tony wasn’t sure anyone heard him –not sure the guy even wanted to be heard.

“You’re sorry? Is that what you just mumbled?” Clint answered, his tone getting angrier and angrier with each word.

“I am truly deeply sorry,” Stephen articulated more clearly this time.

It did not seem to appease Clint. At all.

“Well, great! You’re sorry. But Nat is dead because of you. And your sorry ass apologies won’t do shit to bring her back!”

Clint was furious. He was grieving. But he was taking it out on the wrong guy.

“It’s all your fault!”

Stephen didn’t move, didn’t even blink when Clint lurched forward and punched him square in the face. He fell backwards and blood splattered on the ground.

“It’s all your fucking fault!” Clint bellowed as Sam and Bucky restrained him, tried to stop him from attacking again.

He almost tore free, and Tony took a step forward. He was all for letting his fellow Avengers sort things out between themselves the way they wanted to –and if they had to punch some sense into each other from time to time, well it was their business. But no one was getting beaten up, without even trying to resist, on his lawn.

But before Tony could say anything, Pepper stepped into the scene.

“What is going on here?” she asked in her no-nonsense voice. Se didn’t wait for someone to answer –as if there even was a correct way to answer when she used that voice. “No one is fighting in my home! Today, we celebrate those we brought back, and we grieve those we lost. This is not a time for fighting and I will not tolerate it. Is that clear?”

Clint might try to protest, there was no way he would sway Pepper. He was an Avenger. She was even more dangerous, Tony thought with pride. Looked like he could let his wife handle the dirty business.

He crossed the lawn, got to the poor wizard still slumped on the ground, haggard and defeated. His nose was bleeding profusely, and the corner of his eye was starting to turn purple. Tony grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Come on. Let me take care of you.”

Stephen looked up at him. There was a deep sadness, a resigned look in his eyes that broke Tony’s heart. Then Stephen got up and it was gone. They walked silently through the crowd, crossed the lawn and reached the house. Tony pushed him as carefully as he could in a bathroom.

“Here we go,” he said softly, helping Stephen sit on the edge of the tub. “Fri, where’s the first aid kit?”

“Under the sink, boss,” the AI answered immediately and Tony dived under the sink to retrieve the little box, opening it to get some cotton balls and antiseptic, though he wasn’t sure what to do with those. “May I suggest the ice pack, boss?”

“You’re the best, baby girl.”

“Of course,” she answered, and Tony chuckled.

He went back to Stephen with a slightly wet towel to wipe off the blood while he handed him the cold pack. Stephen’s fingers shook wildly when he took it and pressed it on the side of his head, with a painful wince.

“You don’t have to do all this,” the Wizard of Oz finally said. “I’m okay.”

“Yeah, look in the mirror, doc, and tell that to your face,” Tony scoffed.

He got a brief glimpse of a smile before he moved the towel over nose, lips, chin, and all the mess of blood that covered Stephen’s face.

“Why didn’t you send Clint to the Sinister Dimension or whatever the name of that hellish world is?” Tony asked, trying not to wince with Stephen every time the towel stroked over a sensitive area.

“Dark Dimension,” Stephen corrected.

“Sure.”

A moment of silence passed. Tony took the time to rinse the blood out of the towel before applying it again. It seemed like the bleeding had stopped. That only left the big ugly contusion at the corner of Stephen’s eye. Ouch, that looked painful.

“Fri, can you scan our good doctor? Make sure there are no deeper wounds?”

“I’m fine,” Stephen protested with another wince that said otherwise.

“Fri?”

“The good doctor is right, boss. No deeper injury.”

“Great.”

As Tony looked at the slumped and beaten up form in front of him, it seemed that nothing was great. If there were no physical wounds, it seemed that there was a more profound, more painful, psychological one. That man was wounded, burned out, and morally exhausted. And Tony was suddenly filled with the impulse to help him, to fix this, whatever this was.

He wanted to see the powerful and cocky sorcerer he clashed with, when they first met.

He wanted the weirdly flirty wink after great prowess of magic, and butting heads with someone that didn’t take his nonsense but actually listened to him, and compromised.

“So, why didn’t you stop him?” he asked again after a minute of almost comfortable silence.

He threw the bloody towel in the laundry basket and leaned against the sink, watching Stephen intently.

“Because he’s grieving. And he’s right,” Stephen answered in a too small voice.

Defeated.

Tony was not taking any of it. If Pepper had to protect Stephen from Clint, Tony would have to protect Stephen from himself, apparently. It was far from the weirdest thing he had ever done.

“Bullshit. It’s not your fault.”

Stephen arched an eyebrow behind the cold pack, before he winced and dropped it. Tony picked it up for him and, instead of giving it back to the wizard, he brought it up to Stephen’s face and gently hold it up against his temple. Stephen just sighed, closed his eyes for a second, letting Tony take care of him. The situation was slightly more intimate than Tony anticipated but it warmed his heart to see Stephen accept his help. And yeah, he could see himself get closer to the wizard in the near future.

“It’s not your fault,” he repeated.

“It kinda is. I chose this path, the one where Natasha and Steve had to die. Their deaths are on my hands.”

“That’s just pure bullshit! You didn’t push Nat on Vormir, she jumped. You didn’t put the gauntlet on Steve’s hand, he took it and snapped his own fingers knowing he would not survive it. You did not murder them. They chose to sacrifice themselves to save us all, and believe me, I would have done the same thing, without blaming you. You know what you did?”

“Wallow in self-pity, dishonoring their great sacrifice?” he whispered defeated and seemingly disgusted with himself.

“No.” Damn, that man really needed to be protected from himself. Tony knew a thing or two about blaming himself for everything, but Strange was on another level completely. “You put us on the right path, you risked your sanity to view all those possible futures and other timeline. You are a hero.”

That seemed to finally shut Stephen up. He blinked, looked up at Tony, but this time, there was something different in his eyes. A deep emotion Tony couldn’t really name. It made his heart race.

Stephen’s hand rose, lightly touched Tony’s at the side of his head. It was delicate and far more intimate than he expected. But before Tony could say anything else, the bathroom’s door opened, and Pepper stepped in.

Stephen quickly took his hand away, but Tony kept his position. There was nothing he wanted to hide from his wife. Besides, if something ever happened with the wizard, he was pretty sure Pepper would want to be included. Yep, that would be very nice actually, the three of them in the cabin. Tony could almost picture it.

Wait, he was thinking a bit ahead of himself, wasn’t he? Well, who could blame him, he was a futurist, after all.

“Are you okay, Dr. Strange?” Pepper asked.

“You can call me Stephen. And yes, I’m okay. Tony took care of me.”

Pepper looked at her husband. Tony winked, she smirked in return. His hand was still pressed against Stephen’s head –there was a cold pack between them, but did that really matter?

Pepper went to Stephen’s other side, carefully took his chin in her hand to examine him –and there was no cold pack or any medical supply to excuse the proximity. Stephen tensed for a second, then he relaxed in her grip.

“You did well,” Pepper finally concluded, with a small stroke on Stephen’s cheek. The wizard shuddered. Then she stepped back and the fluttering moment was over. “Tony, you stay with him, I’m gonna send everyone home,” she ordered more than asked.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Tony answered immediately.

“And Stephen?”

“Yes?”

“Stay for dinner with us tonight. Please?”

A moment of hesitation, blue-green eyes jumping from Tony to Pepper, a gulp and finally.

“I will.”

Well, well, well, Tony thought. That was a very interesting turn of events. He couldn’t wait to see where all of this would lead them.

~~~

Inspired by this intimacy prompt list

Prompts filled: 3. touching foreheads (ironstrangefrost) 23. wearing someone’s clothing (ironstrange) 29. kissing while mad (ironstrange) 59. height difference (ironstrange)

[feral-dumbass]

Speak of the Devil

James “Bucky” Barnes/ Female Reader

Summary: You tag along with Bucky to a undercover reconnaissance mission at a goth club. Smut ensues. 

Includes: Degradation, Choking, little bit of slut shaming, unprotected semi-public sex, hint of cockwarming, dirty talk, oral

Words: 4,307

A/N: This is my first fic I have ever posted on here. I hope I included all the warnings correctly. Not sure if I need to include fingers in mouth, but that happens. Title credit goes to the Misfits. Tagging @gagmebucky​ and @babybluestan​. Thanks for giving me the guts to post this! I am so thankful for you guys. 

Masterlist

The bass of Molchat Doma vibrates the walls as you search for Bucky. When you stepped into the goth club on 66th street, you were more nervous than you liked to admit. The club had recently gone under new management and is rumored to be a place for arms trafficking. It is ingenious, actually. Under all the makeup and leather, anyone could hide their identity. Take Bucky for instance. Tight jeans, a black t-shirt, some eyeliner, and a leather jacket down to his calves, Bucky is unnoticeable. Also, helps that the most identifiable thing about him is covered under gloves. Don’t even get started on the leather band and silver chain wrapped around his neck. You need to fan yourself just thinking about it. 

You also look quite different from your usual lab coat and safety goggles and Bucky has certainly noticed. He could not keep his hand off your thick fishnet covered thighs the whole way here. 

With a kiss to your cheek, Bucky had left you at the bar to check out the area. That had been twenty minutes ago and sadly, people were starting to notice you too. 

You felt eyes on you as you mindlessly scrolled through the meme group chat. Peter and Shuri were having an entertaining fight on who sent the best memes. You couldn’t handle the creepy feeling anymore. You were ready to show this creep the pretty switchblade Bucky got you for your birthday. Chin raised, your eyes met with green ones across the bar. You tried to give your best resting bitch face with dead eyes, but he only smirked and took that as his cue to swoop in. You slammed cash on the table for your blood red drink and slipped into the crowd before he could make two steps in your direction. You went down a hallway in the back which led you to your latest predicament. Where the fuck is your thick ass boyfriend? 

You have enough PHDs under your belt to know not to yell out Bucky’s name. Searching for his wide frame under the neon lights is the only option you have left as you pass the restrooms. You think finding a 6’2” man would be easy, but apparently, every alternative person wears 5 inch platforms. Not like you can really blame them. If they weren’t so expensive, you’d be Bucky’s height too right now. 

As you fill with envy for people that can fit into knee high platforms, an arm wraps around you and yanks you into a unisex bathroom. “It’s me.” Bucky’s deep voice assures before you can even start going through the defense attacks he taught you. You slip out of his hold and turn around to face him. Ignoring the fact Bucky has taken off his jacket and his muscles are now stressing the seams of his long sleeve shirt, you cross your arms. 

“Where have you been?”

Bucky blinks confused before finding his answer. “Bugging this two floor building. Why? What’s wrong?” You will tell him sooner or later. Might as well do it now. 

“Nothing. It’s just, uh, a skeevy man was staring at me far too long. We made eye contact and he tried coming over.” 

“Did he hurt you because I will-” Bucky’s already heading for the door before you squeeze his arm. 

“Bucky,” you laugh astounded that he’s so ready to fight for you. You didn’t even give him a description. Bucky lets you pull him back to the center of the room. “I slipped through the crowd before he could try anything. I’m fine.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise. I’m fine.” You stand on the tip of your toes to kiss Bucky’s cheek but he turns his head to kiss you instead. He kisses you deeply just long enough to leave you wanting more.

“You still have your knife right?” 

“Yes, you dork.” He visibly relaxes at the confirmation. You take a hold of his chin and turn his face towards you. “You do realize you have cut on your cheek right?” It’s not too bad. A medium cut surrounded by bruising. Super serum is probably at work already healing it, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. It’s not like you’re left with the best of first aid in the bathroom. You head to the sink to wet a paper towel with soap and water. 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” You glare at Bucky through the mirror. “I don’t suggest going three doors down. A couple of guards are sleeping on the clock.” He walks over and cozies up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kisses your shoulder. “Is that really necessary. I think there’s more pressing matters to attend to.” He rolls his hard on into your ass as he kisses across your shoulder and up your neck. 

“Really?” You pry as you wring out the paper towel.

“I have been hard since you walked out in the commons.” Your face gets warmer at his confession. “I mean-” Bucky groans as he looks down at your fishnet covered legs. 

“While we’re on the subject, the eyeliner is working for me.” You’ve piqued Bucky’s interest. He meets your eyes through the mirror again. “You should wear it more often. You look so much like-”

“If you say Chase from the Covenant, I’m leaving.” Life drains from his eyes as he speaks.

“Like a man who can get into my pants.” 

“Nice save.” 

“Anyways, I say fuck it. Let’s do it.” Bucky’s eyes light up with excitement. “But clean the blood off your face first.” Bucky takes the paper towel out of your hands, scrubs the line of dried blood off his cheek, and throws it in the trash can before you can blink. Bucky turns your face to meet his lips not even a second later. He kisses you even deeper than before slipping his tongue in your mouth. You lift your hand to thread through Bucky’s hair. At the feel of your hand in his hair, he breaks away. 

“No. No. Keep your hands on the sink. I think this could be fun.” He grabs both of your wrists and places your hands on the edge of the sink. He’s moving your hair off your neck before his lips connect with it. “So pretty, baby. Is this all for me?” He mumbles before placing a hickey on your neck. His hands squeeze your thighs before snaking up your torso and kneading your breasts through your top. Lost in the pleasure only Bucky can give, you assume his question is rhetorical. You learn it wasn’t as he stops his ministrations. “Is this mine?”

You scramble to find your words. “Yeah.” Your voice cracks. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” He looks directly into your eyes through the stickered mirror as he unzips the front of your top. Bucky brings his gloved hand up to your mouth. “Bite,” He mumbles before planting multiple kisses on your neck. 

You bite down on his index finger and he pulls his hand away, leaving the glove in your mouth. He quickly takes the glove, stuffing it in his back pocket, before his right hand is kneading one of your bare breasts. You sigh at the feel of his calloused hand on your soft skin. You get a moment to enjoy the feeling until Bucky is lifting his other gloved hand toward your mouth. You get the memo without having to be told. You help tear off his glove for his metal hand and he’s stuffing it in his back pocket again. Instead of going for your other breast, two of Bucky’s metal fingers tap on your bottom lip. 

It is not like you to deny him. You take his fingers in his mouth and suck on them, giving them the same attention you’d give his dick. Bucky leaves the growing patch of hickies on your neck to growl at the sight. “Such a fucking tease.” His metal fingers press down on your tongue making you take his fingers deeper. He let’s up when he knows you are about to choke. “Can’t wait to get inside you, but first I want to see you cum on my fingers. Would you like that, honey?” His right hand leaves your chest and plays with the hem of your short skirt. 

With his fingers still in your mouth,  you nod, widen your stance, and back your ass up into his crotch. He chuckles lowly right next to your ear before his right hand is yanking up your skirt. Your skin tight skirt barely budges with one hand. 

“You gotta be kidding me?” Bucky takes his metal hand out of your mouth and uses it to yank up your skirt. You pray to whoever’s listening that your horny boyfriend doesn’t rip your bottoms off. It’d make getting out of the club a lot more messier. “This skirt is annoying me. You’ll just have to be naked for a week to make it up to me.” Thankfully, your skirt moves up your body to bunch at your waist. You don’t have time for a witty retort or to even think about how you were airborne for a second before Bucky is digging his metal fingers into your sex. At the feel of fishnet over wet folds, he pauses. “Wait, are you-”

“Not wearing panties? Yep.” 

He lets out the longest groan to date. “You’re gonna kill me.” Bucky tears open a hole in your stockings at the apex of your thighs before massaging and digging into your sex with vengence. “That’s what you’re gonna do. Forget all the highrisks missions. The stupid fucking guards. I’m gonna die because my girlfriend can’t wear a fucking decent pair of underwear.” Bucky groans and he’s… he’s being unfair as two of his thick metal fingers slip into you. He knows how much you love it when he uses his metal hand. Bucky is using it against you to sear his touch into your brain. You throw your head back onto his shoulder as he reaches sensitive depths inside you. His right hand goes back to kneading your chest.

“Wearing panties makes it harder f-for… for you to fuck me. Need to be prepared for your horny ass 24/7.” You pant in between words. Bucky raises an unimpressed eyebrow. The speed of his pumping fingers quicken to the point where the both of you can hear how wet you are over the distant music. “W-when are you not… horny?”

“I’m not even going to entertain you with an answer when I have this wet pussy to play with. ‘Sides, I’m not the one who sounds horny right now. “ Bucky’s metal thumb rubs your clit. “I’m not the one desperate enough for my boyfriend’s cock that I'll spread my legs in a public bathroom. Honestly, you just went with it? No second thoughts?” You’re too overwhelmed with pleasure to even bother a response. Bucky clicks his tongue. “That’s not good girl behavior. More like slutty behavior.” Bucky’s eyes light up with an idea. “Be a good slut and cum for me.”

“Bucky,” you gasp pleadingly. 

“C’mon, you heard me. Cum for me. It’s the least you can do.” He’s sucking on a pulse point on your neck when you go rigid underneath him. You cry out as you reach your euphoric high. 

“God damnit, you’re so gorgeous when you cum.” Bucky makes you feel the full effect of your orgasm as he continues to pump his fingers and rub your clit. You have to practically tear his metal arm off you to get peace. Both of his hands leave you and you can hear the tell tale sound of his pants being undone. 

You get a small amount of reprieve before Bucky is rubbing his dick through your drenched folds. His thick cock stimulating your sensitive nerves. Bucky’s steel toed boot nudges your stance wider and he’s dipping into your entrance just enough for you to start to feel the intoxicating stretch of him. You’re arching your back at the burn when he pulls out suddenly. You sputter as you try to find your words. 

“I don’t think you really want my cock.” He goes back to spreading your folds over his cock. The tip runs across your sensitive, overworked clit every once in a while.

“I’m literally on display for your fucking dick right now.” 

“Then say it.” Bucky nuzzles your neck and blows cool air on the patch of hickies. 

“Bucky, please fuck me. I’ve been wet since you mentioned you had to wear a leather jacket. Let me have it.” 

Bucky snorts at that. “My sweet slut. Always so ready and willing for my cock.” 

“Only a s-slut-” Bucky slides into you slowly making you feel every massive inch of him  “- f-for you.” You whimper at the feel of him as your back arches. You're trapped in between Bucky and the sink. No choice but to feel all of him. 

Bucky rumbles right against your back. “My own little whore. I like the sound of that.” He tests the waters by thrusting shallow. You’re convulsing around his cock. It always takes a few to get used to the initial stretch. He groans. “Always so fucking tight. My own personal heaven.” He hasn’t been able to stop his little thrusts, addicted to the feel of you. 

“B-Bucky,” you gasp strained. “P-please, move. Do something.” 

“Look at you so desperate for my cock. I love it. Such a good whore.” He pulls out and you could cry until he’s thrusting back in, knocking the wind out of you. You gasp, collecting enough air for him to knock it out of you again. Again. And again. It’s not before long, Bucky is setting a brutal pace and all you can do is take it. You are going lax as the pleasure makes your extremities tingly. Bucky is pretty much the only thing holding you up as he brings three of his right fingers towards your mouth. He doesn’t even have to tap on your lips. You open your mouth for him to slip his fingers inside and suck on them. Bucky’s eyes zero in on your pretty lips wrapped around his fingers. 

“What a good slut. Such a good girl. I love you so much.” His metal hand gently wraps around the base of your neck. His index finger and thumb stroke the skin right underneath your choker causing goosebumps to break out. “This looks so pretty on you, baby.” He kisses the spot your jawline and neck connect before continuing. “I think we both know how much better my hand is wrapped around your neck though.” He gives a light squeeze, slightly cutting off your blood flow, and grins at you. A broken moan leaves you as drool pools around his fingers starting to drip down his hand and your chin. “So fucking stunning. Should have got out my phone before we started.”

A light, airy feeling starts to creep into your head, kind of like your floating. Bucky’s pace never lets up and you’re close. So, so close.  A few more thrusts and Bucky is reaching new depths. You’re knuckles strain as you grip the sink hard. 

“Shit.” He grunts. His fingers press down on your tongue not give a fuck if you gag. Your eyes widen as his warmth floods you. Bucky’s pace slows and he’s pumping his hips shallowly while he cums.

 As much as you love the bare feel of him, you’re pissed. You were so close to an orgasm and he stopped. It was without clittoral stimulation too. It was gonna be groundbreaking. You actually gag on the pressure of his fingers down your throat and smack his wet wrist. He quickly takes his fingers out of your mouth and apologizes. You can’t believe you're stomping your foot while still on your boyfriend’s dick, but there’s a first for everything. You’re actually pouting as you cross your arms over your bare chest and jut out your lower lip. 

“Bucky!” You wait for him to take his eyes off your ass and meet yours through the mirror. 

He smacks your ass, squeezes it, and hums, mildly distracted. “Yeah?” He glances up and does a double take. “You’re pissed?”

“Uh yeah. Do you know how close I was before you ruined it? I-” Bucky takes his hand off your throat and uses both to dig his thumbs in the dip of your back as he shushes you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you.” You’re frustrated and slightly on edge when Bucky slowly pulls out. “Don’t get more upset, but that was literally the hottest thing we’ve done. You have never looked hotter.” 

“Why would I get upset when I feel the same.” You begrudgingly agree. 

“Oh my god, you’re gonna hold not letting you come against me. You’re such a baby.” You open your mouth to defend yourself, but Bucky turns you around and lifts you on to the edge of the sink before you can start. Butterflies erupt in your stomach at that manhandling and you ignore it. While you avoid his eyes and glare at the wall over his shoulder, he wipes some of the drool off your chin. You melt on the inside and try not to show it. If you look in his eyes, you’re going to forgive him. If you look into his eyes, you’re going to forgive him. “This is ridiculous. When have I ever left you hanging? Don’t you think maybe I had a plan?” Your eyes slowly slide over to his. His eyes, still darkened by lust, bore into you. “I don’t want to see you cum on my cock through the mirror. I want you to face me, eyes rolled back, mouth gaping as I repeatedly reach all the sensitive spots inside you.” 

“You’re the one that’s the fucking tease.” You smack his broad chest. He takes your hand and kisses each knuckle. His hand then goes to knead your thighs dangling off the edge. 

“So, what do you say? Second round?” 

“I can’t believe I am saying this, but I’m sexually frustrated and still slightly mad. Fuck me before someone comes in.” He wedges himself between your thick thighs. Bucky leans down to kiss you and you thread your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck, happy to get to touch him.  He eventually stops kneading your thighs, just feeling the texture of the mesh stretched across your skin. 

Bucky groans as you nip at his lips when he pulls away. His head drops down and shakes it in disbelief.  “You need to wear these more often.” He looks very serious at you and you would snicker if you weren’t about to fuck. You do smirk at him though and swirl his hair between your fingers. 

“You gonna fuck me in public more often if I do?” You wipe some of your burgundy lipstick off the edge of his bottom lip as you ask. 

Bucky’s Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps. “I-is that what you want?” He’s grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to the edge. You can feel his hardening cock against your hip. You’re so close to Bucky, you lean in just a few inches to press your chest against his and whisper sultry in his ear.

“I am constantly ready for your cock. Twenty four seven. Name a place and I’ll spread my legs. So fucking big. Feels so damn good.” You kiss right underneath his ear and then move a few inches down to suck hickey on a soft spot of his neck. With super soldier recovery rate, it won’t last long, but it sure does rile him up. He moans and it echoes off the linoleum poster covered walls. You love the vibrations underneath your lips as he tilts his head to the other side. You know his eyes are fluttering as you can’t help but to give him a few others hickies next to it. 

You lean back to admire your handiwork. Purple blotches litter his neck in between smudges of burgundy lipstick. You’re pretty sure you’ve wiped off all your lipstick on Bucky. His blown out pupils watch you like a hawk, hands digging into your ass. He’s rubbing his hard on into the crease of your stomach and thighs and he doesn’t even know it. “C’mon, I want to feel the ache of you tomorrow. Fuck me like the whore that I am.” You feel a chill run down his spine before he finally takes action. 

He rolls up his sleeves and of course, because your chest is now facing him, he needs to leave a few hickies on them. As he guides his dick to your entrance, you wrap your legs around his waist. Bucky momentarily ceases the hickies to watch your puffy folds easily accept his wide cock. Both of you are groaning at the feeling. 

“Your pussy’s so wet for me. Fuck.” Bucky’s too turned for a filter. You keep your edging comment to yourself and kiss his sweaty temple. The edging thoughts stewing inside are knocked out of you as Bucky fingers trace the place you two are joined. He uses the excess of your combined wetness to rub your clit. Pleasure makes your toes curl. 

“Not what I meant when I said fuck me, Bastard.” You can’t get Bucky to move his hips without falling on your ass. He seems perfectly fine to have you warm his hard dick as he kisses and leaves hickies along your collar bones. Your free hand grabs his bicep and you’re close to coming already. 

“Yeah. Your bastard.” You can feel him grin against your skin. You’d comment if you weren’t about to cum. 

“C-close. Please don’t stop.” You gasp out, begging as the rise of your orgasm hits. You’re squeezing Bucky while in your peak. He almost groans as loud as you’re moaning.

“You’re so gorgeous. Love when you convulse around my cock, honey.” He kisses your cheek momentarily before going back down to your chest. He starts pumping his cock in and out of you. This time literally knocking the wind out of you. You’re oversensitive from your orgasm and he never truly let you come down from it. Bucky is certainly making his promise. You’ll feel him in your guts for the next few days. Your hands run through his hair and pull on the ends. His mouth finally detaches from your chest as he moves with your hand. He lets out a full blown out moan that makes your heart pound. Bucky always lets out the filthiest moans when you pull his hair. You fucking love it. His metal hand leaves your ass. He grabs a hold of the edge of the sink as he pace picks up. 

As much as you love filling all your wet dreams with the hottest audio ever, you don’t have the strength to keep your arm up for long. Your hand drops to his back. His muscles ripple underneath your fingertips as you dig your nails into his back. Both of you panting into each other's ear. Your legs shake at the approaching orgasm. 

“I know you’re close. Be a good whore. Cum on my cock. I’ll wait for you.” He rubs your clit even faster. 

“FUCK.” You’ve never been happier for loud music blasting through the club’s speakers. An intense orgasm takes over you. White dots fill your vision as tears collect at your waterline. With how hard your gripping his cock, Bucky isn’t far behind. He can only get in a few more thrusts before he’s cumming again. He bites into your shoulder and groans. Shivers wreck down your spine as his warmth fills you for the second time tonight. Bucky lets the sink carry his weight as he grips it hard. 

There’s a groaning protest before a chunk of the sink falls off. You’re there to block him from falling. He pulls out and moves you closer to the other edge, away from the crime scene. You look over your shoulder. Thankfully, he didn’t break off any of the major plumbing parts. Water spraying everywhere would make looking yourself presentable a lot more harder, but maybe that could have been your excuse. Oh well. 

You turn back to Bucky. He’s still holding on to the broken piece of sink. Both of you break out into giggles as he throws it in the trash. 

“I can’t believe you did that.” You’re grinning ear to ear as he tucks himself back into his boxers. 

“I can.” Bucky shrugs. “I don’t think you get how tight you get when you cum. Me breaking things during sex is not new.” 

“My back. Our nice bed frame. The ottoman in the commons… Can’t forget the multiple tables. Shout out to Tony’s dented Acura hood.” You pull Bucky’s shirt to get him closer to you. You kiss him before he speaks. “Are you trying to seduce me?” 

“If you fuck me again, there won’t be a sink left.” 

He hums and rubs your thighs. He’s definitely addicted to the feel of the fishnets stockings. Good luck trying to get his hands off you for the rest of the day. “You have a point.” He drops to his knees. 

“What are you doing?” He’s spreading your thighs wide in front of his face.

“I can’t let my cum drip down your legs out there. That would be irresponsible of me.” That's all the explanation you get before he’s burying his face in between your legs, stubble scratching your inner thighs. You gasp as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit. Fuck what he said. You’re the one that’s gonna die. Bucky is truly your horny bastard. 

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (January 26/2021) - Kids With Nukes and Talking Eggs

The Crimson’s influence continues to spread and corrupt the SMP, with the seeds planted earlier sprouting into new tendrils. 

In fact, the Crimson has spread so far that now chat can finally hear the Egg’s whispers for themselves, as Badboyhalo and Quackity have an important discussion, and Karl attempts to prevent the worst...

Also, Snowchester’s nuclear weapons test was a success! Everything went exactly according to plan and definitely nothing else. Yep.

---

- Ponk starts sneaking out of the Egg Room, but Bad comes on and he runs back to avoid suspicion.

- Bad calls him and asks how he’s doing. Ponk says he’s doing fine. Bad asks if he can get Ponk anything. He says Ponk will stay down there until he learns to love the Egg.

Ponk: “I’m a bad bitch, you can’t kill me.”

- Bad says he’ll stay down for an extra day because of that.

- Ponk asks Bad for an iced mocha with cream and a pain au chocolat. Bad refuses at first, but after Ponk threatens to pee all over the Egg, Bad rushes off to get Ponk his iced mocha with cream and pain au chocolat. Ponk asks if it’s vegan.

- Bad drops Ponk his iced mocha with cream and pain au chocolat.

- Bad locks Ponk back up and says he’ll be staying down there for a day now. Ponk says he’ll continue to vibe. 

- Ponk sneaks out once Bad is gone. He meets up with Awesam on the surface. Sam is still talking like he’s exhausted and drained, and says he wants to head home.

- Sam goes to be with Fran again, holding his rose with a wall blocking them off.

- Ponk shows Sam that he’s got Dream’s shield. Sam says that he probably shouldn’t carry it around, as people might get the wrong idea...Ponk says it’s cool because it makes his “head fuzzy.” 

- Ponk says goodbye and leaves Sam.

- Both keycards for the nukes have gotten lost. There is no way this can end badly. Jack comes online and they begin to prepare. The plan is to launch one and decommission the others.

- Jack wonders how to get Tommy to the test site. Perhaps if some of the materials for the hotel can be obtained easiest near the site? He speaks with Awesam about adding spruce wood to the materials list. Awesam says he’ll let Sam Nook know.

- Tommy comes online and speaks with Sam Nook, who tells him to get some spruce wood. Niki comes over to fetch him. Niki leads Tommy closer to the test site.

- Jack desperately attempts to stall the launch. 

- The nuke is launched! Jack and Tubbo rush over.

- Tommy manages to delay walking over to the test site purely by talking nonstop, and the nuke misses him. He instead goes to examine the crater with the others. Tubbo is concerned about Tommy’s lack of hazmat suit. 

- Jack and Niki are furious that it didn’t work. 

- They go back to Snowchester to celebrate. Tommy coughs up a bit of blood. Foolish comes over to deal some stress relievers.

- Sam Nook then tells Tommy to gather red dye.

- Tommy and Jack start fighting and Sam Nook comes to kill him.

- Ranboo speaks with Tubbo. Apparently the Crimson showed Tubbo images of dead families that made him cry. They wonder if they should do something about the Blood Vines.

- Ranboo writes in his book. His pickaxes have been mysteriously losing durability.

- Ranboo later speaks with Niki. He asks why she burned down L’mantree. Niki explains that she’d lost hope in L’manburg and didn’t believe it should exist anymore.

- Tommy mugs Foolish. Foolish says he’ll remember this.

- Tommy still doesn’t have enough red dye. Sam Nook is worried that Awesam won’t be pleased with him leaving the build site today. If Awesam found out, that wouldn’t be good...

- Foolish visits Ponk, who is still trapped in the obsidian Egg cage.

- Antfrost logs on and Foolish starts running up the stairs. He sneaks behind a corner and Antfrost walks by. He doesn’t seem to see Foolish.

- The Blood Vines have made their way to Foolish’s desert...

- Bad comes online with plans to introduce Callahan to the Egg. He meets up with Quackity and asks him if he’s noticed the Vines growing everywhere.

- Bad checks the Crater. Quackity sees the Crater Vines for the first time and is horrified. 

- Bad asks Quackity -- he’s a chaotic individual -- what if he could join something greater than himself? Callahan as well? He asks if Quackity would either wish to be brainwashed, or voluntarily join the Eggpire. Quackity could be in charge of everything.

- Quackity says to keep talking...Bad says he would make a great leader. The Egg could be the means to the end of becoming the leader over everything.

- Ever since the whole L’manburg, fight with Dream happened, Quackity’s been wandering, taking some time off. Thinking about things. But he doesn’t like the idea of the Vines covering the entire SMP.

- Bad explains that once the Vines have covered everything, Quackity can come in as the ultimate hero, conquering the Egg and becoming the ruler of the entire Dream SMP.

Quackity asks...what’s the catch? Why wouldn’t Bad do this himself?

Bad says all he wants is to see Quackity succeed. 

Bad: “You...could become the ruler of all of this.”

Quackity asks for Bad to show him a little more.

Bad: “The Egg can grant you your heart’s desires.”

Quackity: “So why do you still not have Skeppy?”

- Bad shows him around. Quackity wants to see exactly what Bad has up his sleeve, what’s really going on here. Karl follows them around in hiding.

- Bad, Quackity and Callahan jump down into the spider spawner to head to the Egg Room without Prime Suits on.

- Callahan dies on the Egg’s magma and disappears in the presence of the Egg.

- Quackity stands on the Egg and says it’s...wonderful. He feels great. A strange sensation.

The Crimson speaks.

- Karl types in chat, trying to get Quackity to leave the Egg.

- Quackity freaks out and says he needs to get out. He starts running, shouting in fear. He faces Bad in the hallway, telling him to stay back.

Bad: “Power! Power. Power...you want power, Quackity.”

...

Quackity: “Badboyhalo, there is something so very wrong with you...” 

- Karl jumps into the hallway and hits Bad away.

- Quackity tells Bad to never do this to him again. Bad says everyone has to make a choice. He tried the easy way already, but Quackity’s chosen the difficult path...

- Bad comes to the Egg, frustrated. He’s trying to be nice, trying to give everybody a chance...and they’re not taking it.

The Crimson whispers to him.

- Bad thinks that maybe, letting so many Vines grow has turned people against the Crimson instead of getting them to love it.

- Bad lets Ponk out. He’s vibing. Bad gives him a pain au chocolat.

- Bad asks the Egg. What are they to do?

The Crimson whispers.

Bad says he had hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Nothing matters but the Egg...and Skeppy.

- Bad leaves the Egg. They have to check the status of Sam, deal with Tommy, and see if they can still get Quackity on their side. He can come around to them! Antfrost and Bad need to meet with Technoblade as well.

- Quackity whispers to Bad that he would like to talk.  As he comes up, he spots Ranboo wandering around.

The Crimson whispers, but Bad says he “can’t deal with this one at the moment.”

Bad picks up the grass block that Ranboo left and places it in his Ender Chest...

- Bad addresses chat: have they spent enough time with the Egg that they can hear the Egg too?

- Bad meets with Quackity at Eret’s castle. As Quackity jumps a fence, he places down some purple concrete. Bad picks it up and places it in his Ender Chest as well.

- They make it into the wilderness and Quackity tries to snap Bad out of it.

Quackity: “You’re one of the only people on the server who I have a little bit of hope in! ...What the hell is going on?”

“That’s not you! That’s not you, Bad!”

Bad: “The Egg offered me exactly what I wanted!”

Quackity: “What’d the Egg give you?”

Bad: “The Egg gave it to me -- or told me that it could get it for me.”

Bad says that Skeppy got infected by the Egg, and he realized that there was no way that he could get him back to normal, so he knew he had one job: if he got infected by the Egg too, then everything would be fine.

What else could Bad have done except done what the Egg told him? All of Bad’s attempted cures just ended up messing Skeppy up more and more. He couldn’t get Skeppy back to normal on his own. The Egg said if Skeppy was red, everything would be okay.

Bad: “Everybody has something that they want. Something -- when you lose something that you’re really close to, and you’re worried that you’ve lost it for good, sometimes you’re willing to make the tough sacrifices in order to get that thing back.”

Quackity: “And what are these ‘sacrifices?’ Your other friends?”

Quackity is offended that Bad would think the only thing he wants is power. Is that all Bad sees him as? Power-hungry?

Quackity: “Bad, I wanna help you.”

The Egg has an objective, one objective. It wants something, but can’t get it on its own. It needs people to get it. That’s why the Egg needs people, at least right now.

- Bad and Quackity argue. 

- Quackity says Bad is a liability. He shouts at Bad to just listen. Quackity suggests that if they find the source of power for this Egg...maybe they can use this to the ultimate well-being of everyone. Because if the Egg can control others, then...maybe they can control other people for good?

- The only person the Egg can’t control is Tommy, so he has to die.

- It’s not a specific person that the Egg can’t control, but a specific type of person.

- Bad wonders...what if he could control the Egg?

Maybe he could free Skeppy himself.

- But how could they control the Egg? Quackity says he’s thought of a different type of control. Their conversation has given him some thoughts. He says Bad can deal with his Egg stuff alone, but he’s too far gone.

- Quackity says it’s not just about gathering people. There’s power in other measures too.

Quackity: “Do you remember that room Dream had where he had everyone’s personal belongings and he essentially had full control of just about everyone, because he had control of their personal belongings?”

- Bad says Quackity’s getting in the way of what he’s trying to accomplish. Quackity says they may be trying to accomplish the same things...

Quackity: “We have the same objectives with different measures.”

- It’s time they part ways. Before they split, though, Quackity leads Bad up a hill and has him look out across the wilderness.

Quackity: “Look at all this. Remember this for a long time...all of this empty land, all of these things...that people think don’t matter, Bad? They do matter, they do matter. Picture this in your head...just never forget it, okay?”

- They leave.

Quackity: “Goodbye, Bad...good luck in whatever you’re gonna do...

And I’ll make sure to get in your way.”

- Bad returns to the SMP, thinking to himself. If the Egg can give him his friend back, then that’s good...right?

- Punz’s eyes have turned red. He’s become favorable to the Vines growing on his tower, saying he likes the feeling of chaos it brings to him.

---

The Crimson spoke with five distinct messages throughout the stream, reversed:

“I will give you your heart’s desire...I will give you what you want.”

“Kill the boy ...Tommy must die.”

“This world is mine...it belongs to me.”

“Feed me...I require nourishment.”

“I know all...I see all...I...AM...ALL...”

---

[sserpente]

A/N: Requests from two anons. No crying involved but definitely an anxiety-inducing situation for RC if that makes any sense. Enjoy! ♥

Words: 2118 Warnings: brief mention of past abusive relationship, attempted rape

“Honey, don’t you think you have enough candy by now? Who’s gonna eat all that?”

“Me!” Your niece stuck out her tongue as she half-walked, half-jumped through one of the many dimly-lit hallways. Her pumpkin basket was full to the brim already but, as you had suspected, there was no stopping her. You did not mind. You weren’t exactly keen on the annual Dauntless Halloween party in the pit. Lots of alcohol, sweaty bodies and so much fake blood it would take you weeks to get it all out of your clothes, off of your body and your hair. You didn’t hate Halloween, in fact you loved it. But you would rather curl up on the sofa in your tiny apartment reading a good book instead of drinking yourself into a coma.

Your niece looked unbelievably cute in her witch costume. Long ginger hair stuck out from under the pointy hat with the fluffy spider sitting on top. She’d had a little black broom as well—and you were not surprised you had had to keep carrying it after only three apartments already.

She was bound to get tired soon, so you kept telling yourself. You could already see yourself becoming a blanket burrito with a steaming mug full of hot chocolate and some of the leftover sweets you yourself had bought for the other children prior to trick or treating with your niece. You were so lost in thought that you only realised too late she had already started at the next apartment door and gave it a vigorous knock.

“Honey, no, not this one!” Shit. Only a few heartbeats later, the door opened.

“Trick or Treat!” She cried out. She was grinning as she held out her pumpkin basket, waiting patiently for her next victim to give her even more sweets. Only the person who had opened her hardly seemed impressed and instead raised an eyebrow at her. Eric used one of his muscly arms to lean against the threshold, his gaze wandering back and forth between your niece and you.

No one ever dared to knock on Eric’s door, presuming he would breathe down their neck for even considering he would give out candy to enthusiastic little children. Unfortunately, your niece did not know that.

Eventually, his gaze came to rest on you.

“I am so sorry, she was too fast.”

“What happened to your face?” He asked instead of reacting to your half-hearted apology. Oh, right. Embarrassed, you felt your cheeks turning crimson red. You had let your niece put some Halloween make-up on you. There was a giant spider with big orange eyes sitting on your right cheek while she had decorated the left with a black spider web. One thing was for sure, your niece would not become the next Picasso.

“Nothing… my niece thought we should match.” And perhaps next Halloween, she should turn you into a mouse so you could hide in a mouse hole to save yourself from Eric’s scrutinising—and now also downright amused—glance. There was a slight hint of mockery sparkling in his blue eyes as well, so you noticed when he stirred.

“Let me see if I can find something.” Oh. That was unexpected. As he disappeared, leaving his apartment door open, you just stood there dumbfounded all the while your niece tripped on the spot all carefree and blithe. This wasn’t really happening, was it? This was literally your nightmare before Christmas!

About a minute later, Eric returned. In his hands, he held a massive bar of Hershey’s chocolate. It was one of those treats only the leaders of Dauntless were privileged enough to receive every now and then. Your niece’s jaw dropped, eyes widening.

“There you go. You think you’ll be able to carry that?”

“Yes! I’m strong!” She pointed out, emphasising her words by making a muscle with her free arm. “Thank you!” As soon as she had accepted the chocolate, she was already off to the next apartment door. Only you still stood there, seemingly frozen in place.

“Uh… thank you.” You managed to choke out sheepishly.

“You’re welcome…” He mumbled in response. “I’ll see you at the party later.” And with that, he closed the door on you, once again leaving you standing there completely dumbfounded.

You had seen him around on Halloween. Eric never dressed up. Instead, he spent the night sitting at the bar all by himself, occasionally chatting to his fellow leaders and sipping some whiskey—completely unimpressed by his fellow Dauntless members’ craziness and excessive alcohol consumption. In that aspect, he was pretty much like you.

You spent the rest of your niece’s trick or treating pondering over his words. You were certainly overthinking it but what exactly had he meant by that? Did he expect you to show up? You had not planned on going. Would it be rude not to show up now? Jesus, it wasn’t like he had asked you out on a date. Eric was merely not as cold and condescending towards you than to others, perhaps because you always made an effort to be nice and polite to him, especially during your initiation.

And yet, once your niece was returned to your sister and you finally rid yourself of all that make-up on your face, you found yourself picking out something to wear to the party. It was almost like your hot chocolate, book and blanket sighed when you left your apartment and headed to the pit instead.

Halloween was on a full moon this year. Maybe you were going crazy. What were you even expecting? In the end, you settled for wanting to prove to Eric that you were a social person who would not curl up all alone on a day like Halloween—that you were tough; that you were Dauntless.

But you were beginning to regret your decision as soon as you reached the pit. Exuberant laughter and chatting along with loud music nearly blew your ears off, the smell of sweat and alcohol immediately numbing your senses. You coughed a little as you started fighting your way through the dancing crowd, your legs stirring you towards the bar almost automatically. Yep, definitely crazy, you thought to yourself.

At least your make-up was a little more on fleek now. You had gone for a mysterious vamp-look, with smoky eyes and dark-red lipstick, a black dress and your knee-high combat boots to complete your appearance. You felt quite sexy but then again, nothing could quite compete with some cosy pumpkin pyjamas.

“Hey, sweetheart… Can I buy you a drink?” Great. There went another reason for which you hated parties like that. Glancing to your left from the corner of your eye, you spotted an already tipsy man dressed up like a zombie approaching you.

“No, thank you. I can pay for it myself.”

“Don’t have to. I’ll pay for it if you’ll dance with me.”

“No, thank you.” You repeated, a little louder and sterner this time. But instead of letting it go, the man stepped right in front of you. He looked still young, probably among the new recruits who had recently passed initiation.

“What are you so scared of? It’s just a drink.” Only ‘just a drink’ was usually accompanied by the expectation of more than just dancing. You were not wary because of prejudice. You were wary because of personal experience in your old faction and an abusive ex-boyfriend.

“Come on, Drake.” The young man joining him was dressed like a zombie as well. They had done well with their make-up. They were nearly unrecognisable. “It’s not your fault you look like a troll. Allow me to buy the lady a drink.”

Annoyed, you rolled your eyes. “I appreciate it but I don’t want either of you to buy me a drink. Let me through, please.” Perhaps you should go find your friends.

Oh, it had been such a stupid idea to ditch hot chocolate and your warm blanket for this, for Eric. But whatever had gotten into you, you were too stubborn to accept the consequences. Only when you attempted to move past them, they cornered you. Two warm bodies pressed against you, one from the front, one from behind. You shuddered when their hands made a move to wander up and down your arms and waist, moving to the rhythm of the ear-piercing music—and even though everything inside of you screamed to lash out at them and make use of your combat skills, you forced yourself to keep calm.

“Let go of me, you scumbags.” You hissed. You’d give them ten seconds at most. If they did not let go of you until then you would kick the shit out of them. One, two, three…

“You’re in Dauntless, act like it.” They were not entirely wrong, so you hated to admit. The majority of men and women here in Dauntless made no secret out of their countless one-nightstands. Sneaking off and making out in semi-public places was risky, reckless and brave all at the same time—even your friends had told you about the adrenaline rush.

Four, five, six…

“She said no.” A stern voice suddenly came to your rescue. You did not need to turn around to know who it belonged to. Eric stood like a particularly intimidating bouncer. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of his body as he positioned himself behind you with his arms crossed.

“Eric! Come join us. We should take this happy ensemble to a quieter place. Ever had a foursome, love?”

“She said no. Take your hands off her before I rip them out and throw them down the chasm. Don’t think you’re safe just because you’ve passed initiation now.”

“Geez, spoilsport. Come on, Drake.”

“I was about to handle this myself.” You hastened to explain when they finally staggered off, lifting your chin up in a proud and independent manner. Eric slightly raised his eyebrows. Well, at least the reason for your presence at this uncomfortable party was here now.

“I know.” Apparently, he’d been headed for the bar as well. With your heart in your mouth, you found yourself following him until you finally reached your destination and asked the barkeeper for a cold beer. Eric went with his traditional whiskey.

“You’re shaking.” He remarked, arms crossed on the counter.

“I’m cold.”

“Cold? This is a sauna. You were afraid of what they might do to you.” He said matter-of-factly and oddly, without any hint of scorn in his voice. The urge to react all defensive overwhelmed you nonetheless.

“So? I went through one abusive relationship, I’m not keen on going through that again because some arseholes believe I have to have one-nightstands for the sake of being Dauntless.”

Eric hummed; in silent agreement, probably. For a brief moment, he was still. You took the time to take a few eager sips from your beer. At least that compensated you a little for relinquishing Halloween night as a blanket burrito.

“Your face looks better than before.” He said then.

“Yeah… thanks. I told my niece begged me to do my make-up for her candy hunt. I didn’t have much choice in the matter.”

The Dauntless leader smirked. “I take it you did not intend for her to knock on my door.”

“No.” No one ever does, you added quietly.

“Well, she seems tough. She should stay in Dauntless once she’s old enough to choose.” He paused.

“I hope so too. ‘Faction before blood’ only sounds easy.”

“Tomorrow, nine o’clock in the training hall. I’m going for a run.” He suddenly commented out of the blue. Your eyes widened. Excuse me?

“Huh?” Frowning, you studied his face, searching for the joke you quite apparently did not understand. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Eric raised his eyebrows once more. “Was I being unclear?”

“Well, no but—“ There was one thing you knew about Eric for certain. You did not defy him. Ever. There was a part of you which wanted to, simply out of spite but the other… the other had dragged you all the way to this party merely because Eric had suggested to ‘see you there’. Heavens, was this really happening? Was the most fearful Dauntless leader of them all actually taking an interest in you? Should you thank your niece for being the trigger… or damn her?

“Good,” He interrupted you harshly, “Tomorrow, nine o’clock in the training hall.” When you said nothing, too flabbergasted to even respond, he simply downed his whiskey and ordered a new one. Well, Happy Halloween to you. It honestly seemed like this was going to be a promising night after all.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[sineala]

Captain America: The Great Gold Steal

I wrote this up last week because I did not have access to my usual comics files but I figured I could review something that was just a book. So here is a review of the 1968 Captain America novel Captain America: The Great Gold Steal by Ted White, with an introduction by Stan Lee. I really liked it, actually! It was surprisingly good!

This novel features: Cover art of Captain America holding his shield in one hand and a very large gun in the other! A scene where the villains dramatically unmask Captain America and have absolutely no idea who he is! Captain America being extremely, extremely depressed about being in the future! Captain America dropping acid!

(I'm not kidding about the last part. In this novel there is a lot of LSD use. By Captain America. Talk about something the Comics Code wouldn't ever let you put in a comic book. Thank you, 1968.)

Faithful readers may remember that some time ago I posted reviews of Marvel prose novels from the 1970s. There was a line of prose novels featuring everyone's favorite Marvel superheroes, published by Pocket Books in the late 70s; I have reviews of the Iron Man, Captain America, and Avengers entries in the series; I liked the Iron Man one best, and I also have a Doctor Strange one I have not yet read. They're all short and action-packed paperback reads, of varying quality; the only one by anyone you might have heard of is the Avengers one, which was written by David Michelinie, who was actually writing the Avengers run at the time. That one was, um. An experience. 

(Yes, it's "prose novel" because otherwise the assumption is "graphic novel.")

Marvel still publishes prose novels now, of course, also of varying quality; some are new plots and some are straight-up novelizations of comics arcs, which I guess is useful if you want to, say, read Civil War and not look at pictures at the same time. I also have a bunch of those that I could probably review if anyone wants. But, anyway, I personally am particularly intrigued by the older Marvel prose novels, both because the stories are all original and not retellings, and also because I often prefer the characterization found in older comics. And the older prose novels of course use the then-current characterization. So reading a Marvel prose novel from 1979 is like getting to read a brand-new comic from 1979, and that's a whole lot of fun for a nerd like me. Also do you know what's not subject to the Comics Code? Prose novels. So things can happen in these that definitely could not happen in comics of the same era.

This brings me to my current prose novel, which is something else entirely. I mean, okay, not really, it's still a Marvel prose novel. But it's not part of the same line. It's actually a lot older.

Bantam Books actually published Marvel prose novels in the late 60s. Yep, a full decade earlier. They published exactly two, so I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that they were probably not bestsellers. The first one, which I do not own and now sort of want to track down, was an Avengers novel in 1967, The Avengers Battle the Earth-Wrecker. And then in 1968 they published the novel I am currently holding in my hands, Captain America: The Great Gold Steal by Ted White.

(I am still not sure why no one involved in titling this book thought of the word "theft.")

Judging by the back copy, it appears to be about Captain America foiling the villains' dastardly plan to steal gold from the Federal Reserve. Oh boy. Fun.

So this book is from 1968. The modern Marvel universe had kicked off just a few short years ago! Captain America was just getting his own solo book after the end of Tales of Suspense! And here's a novel about him, back when certain elements of his characterization were perhaps a little more flexible than they are today, by which I mean that the cover art -- which the internet informs me was painted by Mitchell Hooks -- is a striking full-body portrait of Captain America, head held high, shield in one hand... and a very large gun in the other. Hell, yeah. Not gonna see that in today's Cap comics, are you? It's amazing and I love it.

(Okay, you might see that in Ults. I'm pretty sure I have seen that in Ults, actually. But this is still cool.)

So the cover art is a definite plus, and apparently it's one of the few reasons anyone has ever heard of this novel. The other reason -- and the reason this is more expensive than the later novels, I assume -- is that Stan Lee's name is slapped on the cover, because he wrote an introduction. (I think I paid about $30 for this. The others were definitely under $20.)

All right. Here we go.

The first page is actually a brief summary of Steve's origin story, but not a version I was familiar with. Steve was born July 9, 1917 (yes, I was surprised too), was orphaned at a young age, and was a student at Columbia University (!) before Rebirth, which in this version is a gradual process that is also extremely body-horror. Steel tubing was inserted into the marrows of his bones. He was fed "high-protein compounds." Then they gave him a chemical that "gave him complete control over every nerve, muscle, and cell in his now-magnificent body." Sweet. Where can I get some of that?

The blurb also confirms his control over his own metabolism as well as his healing factor ("wounds would heal in half the normal time"), which is nice, because sometimes I wonder if canon even remembers the healing factor.

(I don't know why Marvel has this kink for filling people's bones with metal, though. It's not actually empty in there, guys! You need your bone marrow! How else do you want people to make new blood cells?)

The book is dedicated to "Jack Kirby and Stan Lee, without whom there would be no Captain America." Hey, Marvel, Joe Simon would like a word with you. I'm just saying.

The Stan Lee introduction is three paragraphs written in Stan Lee's, um, inimitable, distinctive and extremely florid narrative style -- if you've read any of his work, you know what I mean -- and making the point that Captain America is incredible and you will like him. If you are just discovering him for the first time, you will definitely like him. Okay. Thanks. I guess.

Oddly, the writing style here is substantially different than any of the other Marvel prose novels I've read; it doesn't immediately front-load you with exposition and a cast of colorful superheroes. It opens with a sort of James Bond spy-novel feel, running through a series of unnamed villains and bystanders, and a man who wants nothing more than to talk to Captain America but is killed before he can. Steve comes in halfway through the chapter, and he seems to be written for a reader who doesn't necessarily know who he is, and he isn't introduced as Captain America with his shield flying ahead of him to smite evildoers, or anything like that. He's just a tall, handsome blond guy who is reading a bunch of novels and is unsatisfied by all of them because all he can think of is the past. It's definitely an attitude I would expect from Steve in this era -- he is very much a Man Out Of Time here -- but it's also not how I expected the book to introduce him. You wouldn't even know he was Captain America by the end of the opening chapter, which then ends with a digression about the history of NYC subway tunnels. It's like it wants to appeal to someone who has watched a bunch of Man from UNCLE and just wants to read a cool thriller. Which is not at all what I was expecting.

By the beginning of the second chapter, of course, we discover that Steve is Captain America, as he changes into his uniform. The narration refers to him as Rogers when it's in his POV, if anyone is curious. He apparently keeps the cowl off in the mansion, because the cowl annoys him.

It was not so much that he needed to conceal his identity these days, because for all intents and purposes he had no other identity. Steve Rogers was officially dead, and had been for almost twenty years. Captain America *was* his identity. It was only when he donned the tight-fitting blue uniform with its shield chest-emblem, the red snug-fitting leather boots, and the heavy, yet pressure-sensitive red-leather gauntlets, that he began to feel real -- a complete human being.

Steve? Buddy, are you okay there? You're really not okay, are you, huh?

You see what I mean? They're really hitting the early-canon angst. Hard.

(Also it sounds like his uniform is a few sizes too small.)

We then get an expanded version of the backstory from the beginning excerpt. In this version of canon, Steve actually has an older brother, Alan, who is handsome and athletic and basically amazing, and when they are orphaned they are raised by their aunt and uncle. Steve gets TB twice as a kid, nearly dies from it, and when the stock market crashes, ends up separated from his brother and in an orphanage after his uncle loses everything.

(Honestly if I were writing this book, his brother would be the secret villain. Chekhov's Gun!)

Steve has glasses, gets bullied, is a nerd and an honor student, and studies law at Columbia because he wants to help stop fraudulent business practices and also fight organized crime. Legally, I mean. In a manner relating to law. I guess he's sort of like Daredevil. The lawyer part of Daredevil.

And then he joins Rebirth, and this is the part where I had to put the book down for several minutes, because Erskine's secret chemical, the key to making super-soldiers... is LSD.

Oh my God. You should see my face right now. My expression is, I am sure, indescribable. I'm trying not to wake the dog up laughing.

I just. Holy shit. This book is from 1968 in a way I definitely was not expecting. What the fuck, Marvel?

This project was headed by the brilliant biochemist, Dr. Erskine. His work with the endocrine system, and chemical body control, was well beyond that of his contemporaries. Only he, of all his colleagues, had fathomed the secrets of the Swiss Dr. Hoffman's 1938 discovery -- the mind-controlling LSD-25.

Let's just pause here for a few minutes and contemplate this.

I will point out that Albert Hofmann (yes, the book spelled his name wrong) didn't actually discover that LSD was a hallucinogen until 1943 when he accidentally tried it, but I am positive that 1968 here was a time when Some People were convinced LSD was a wonder drug. I'm still laughing. As far as I can tell, legal manufacturing of it stopped in 1965 so I am pretty sure that the author did not just decide to name a drug that had an ostensible legal therapeutic use, because it wouldn't have still had one by '68.

Anyway, in this version of events, Rebirth is a month-long process that involves a lot of vitamins, physical conditioning and training, and, yes, putting metal in his bones like he's the next Wolverine. They're filling his bones with stainless steel rods to make him stronger. That doesn't seem like a great idea to me, but I am also not sure about dropping acid to gain superpowers. Clearly I am not a genius scientist. Also Erskine knows what DNA is, apparently, because he's just that great. Anyway. Other than the metal, those all seem like relatively normal interventions. So far.

Now Steve has become fairly big and strong (and I guess he still has metal in his bones? this concerns me!) but they need to make him superhuman, so, yes, really, it's time to drop acid. Several pages of this book are devoted to describing Steve's acid trip. His acid trip is amazing and he discovers that he has conscious control of his entire body down to the cellular level. He can control the adrenaline in his bloodstream! He can tighten his muscle fibers! And when he's done tripping he still remembers how to do this, if not exactly on a conscious level, but he can still access the abilities. And that is how you make a super-soldier. It's LSD. Remember, kids, drugs are awesome! Do drugs!

Let's maybe take a few more minutes to think about this.

I just. I have no words. How did anyone at Marvel agree to print this?

I think for the most part superhero origin stories tend not to involve real drugs because people are generally aware that drugs they've heard of won't make you into a superhero. I guess this is what it looks like when you invoke the names of real drugs. They probably wanted something that sounded more realistic but somehow I don't think this was the best way to go. (Radiation, of course, will definitely make you into a superhero but I feel like most people have accepted that as one of the conventions of the genre.)

Anyway, after that Erskine gets killed by Nazis, of course, and Steve goes to war, and for some reason this book contains footnotes by Stan Lee himself listing the comics you can read all of this in. Just like the actual comics do!

We are introduced to Bucky, who for some reason is also from the LES in this version, although not anyone Steve knew before the war, and there is of course a description of Bucky's tragic death and Steve's subsequent icing.

They are really, really stressing the Man Out Of Time thing here:

No other man could have survived so fantastic a voyage through time. And no other man could feel so displaced by time.

He was a man twenty years in his own future. By rights, he should be nearly fifty years old -- nearly twice the age of his fellow Avengers. Yet his mind and his body were not yet thirty.

When the Avengers had brought him back to New York with them and insisted that, as an honored hero of the past, he join them, he felt a sort of melancholy homesickness for his own time and world.

We then get a few paragraphs with the usual being sad that he let Bucky down and got him killed, and also that he misses his family, and that Steve Rogers doesn't exist anymore, and that nobody is alive who remembers him, and that war is hell.

Hey, Steve, maybe the drugs you should do are antidepressants. Just a thought.

Also, this book is 118 pages and we're not out of the origin story flashback until page 34. I think there are some pacing issues here.

Actually, I lied, the flashback keeps going, but now we're up to the Avengers finding him, and I have to say that the list of things Steve finds strange about the future is kind of charming when the future is 1968. Men have long hair! Women have shorter skirts! Everyone is kind of blasé about rocket launches because there have been so many space missions now. (Oh, come on, you haven't even landed on the moon yet, 1968! You're not that blasé.) Color TV! And, excitingly, LPs! You can now listen to 36 minutes of consecutive music. (I actually don't know what previous standard he's describing that is a ten-inch record that holds six minutes a side because I don't think 45s are that big. Yeah, no, I just checked and 45s are seven inches in diameter. Hmm. Oh, never mind. He means 78 rpm, doesn't he? In my defense, the record player my family had when I was a kid didn't play those.)

The description of Steve coming into New York for the first time is definitely written by someone who knows New York, which is fun. There is generally a lot of local flavor to the setting of this book. That’s one of the best parts.

There is a brief summary of Steve's feelings about all the Avengers -- he is most impressed by Thor, which, I mean, fair, he's an actual god -- and Hank telling him all about how he can live in Tony's mansion. With Jarvis. Who Hank says is actually from Flatbush. Apparently Steve spent a lot of time at the NYPL branch at 5th and 42nd trying to catch up on history. And then of course the Avengers ditched him and gave him the Kooky Quartet, and for some reason they're not here right now either so it's just Steve being sad and alone and dealing with this mysterious dead guy. I think probably the book is also done explaining fiat currency now. This is definitely the weirdest Marvel novel I've read.

Anyway, we have now returned to what is ostensibly the actual plot. Steve shows up at the New York Federal Reserve Bank (I guess the theft is happening here and not, like, at Fort Knox) with the gold bullion that the dead guy from the beginning of the book had on him -- I think I got distracted by the LSD bit and forgot to mention that part, but the dead guy was carrying some US government gold -- because the actual plot is that villains are trying to tunnel into the bank vault and steal gold. Steve discovers this after he gets the bank manager to give him a tour. The bank manager tries to refuse, citing security concerns -- Captain America could be anyone under that mask, after all! Steve just smiles and says, "If I removed my mask, would you have any better idea of who I am?" and I guess that's a flawless argument because he gets his tour.

(I'm sorry, all I can think of is that one gif from the JLA cartoon where Lex Luthor bodyswaps with the Flash, announces that now that he's in the Flash's body he's going to discover the Flash's secret identity, then pulls off his own mask, stares at himself in the mirror, and says, "I have no idea who this is.")

Given that the theme of Steve's interior life in this novel is "Steve Rogers died twenty years ago" it seems even more sad that Steve is just walking around basically saying, yeah, well, I'm nobody. And apparently that is being reaffirmed for him by the narrative.

So Steve goes down the tunnels, takes out some of the bad guys, and gets himself knocked out and buried in a collapsing tunnel. Don't worry, he's gonna be fine.

A lot of this book, by the way, is from the POV of random people, like this bank guard who went with Steve into the tunnels:

He had wondered, briefly, if a man like Captain America ever knew the pinch of too many bills, had ever felt desperate over the arrival of yet another mouth to feed. But, of course, Captain America had no family, and would hardly concern himself with such matters. It didn't occur to Thompson to wonder if this in itself might not be something for which to pity Captain America.

Rude. I mean, come on, do we really need random characters telling us Steve is a sad sack whom nobody loves? Steve's already got that covered!  (Also, how does this guy know Captain America has no family?)

Anyway, thanks to the power of LSD, Steve is going into a trance, amping up his metabolism (he loses "several pounds" in a few minutes), and making himself super-strong so he can dig himself out. Hooray. This is definitely how human bodies work. Also LSD. This is definitely how LSD works. Yes.

Steve then finds out that a couple of the guards who were with him in the tunnels died down there and he goes home and eats dinner while stewing in miserable guilt because he was responsible for their deaths. He's really not okay. I'm not sure the book actually understands how not okay they have made him. Then someone from SHIELD is on the phone for him and he is briefly cheered up by the thought that it might be Sharon although I think we should also note that the narrative makes it clear that at this point in canon Steve still doesn't know her name. Remember when that was a thing?

Alas, it is not Sharon; it's just a random SHIELD agent who happens to have information about the plot and asks to meet. Then, as Steve leaves to go to the meeting, we get two pages of exhaustive description about the mansion layout and how it's built relative to the surrounding buildings. It feels like this book was written by a frustrated city planner. But anyway, the meeting is a setup and the villains capture Steve.

They knock Steve out, drug him, take him to their hideout, and tie him to a chair. Except, once again thanks to the power of LSD, the tranquilizer they're using wears off way sooner than they expected and so Steve feigns unconsciousness and listens to them discuss their evil plans.

And then the villains unmask him and I swear it's exactly like that JLA gif:

Rogers heard footsteps scuffing across a thick carpet, and then Sparrow's voice again, almost directly over him. His ears still buzzed, but he fought to catch the elusive familiarity of the man's tone. He wished he dared open his eyes.

"This is a moment which I, personally, have long awaited," Sparrow said, his voice rising in triumph. "*The unmasking of Captain America!*"

Then, his nails scraping along Rogers' face, Sparrow dug his fingers under his cowl, and ripped it back. Rogers felt air strike his exposed cheeks and forehead. Then fingers clutched his blond hair and pulled his head back. "Behold!" Sparrow said.

Raven was first to speak. "Well, I dunno about you, Sparrow, but it rings no bells with me. I never seen him before."

Starling agreed. "His face means nothing to me."

"He could be anybody," said Robin. "What good does this do?"

Sparrow let Rogers' head fall back to his chest, and his voice when he spoke was defeated. "I don't know. Nothing, I guess. I always wondered. I felt, if these guys -- these costumed heroes -- wore masks, it must mean something."

"Captain America was missing for twenty years," Starling said. "That could mean the first one died, and this one took his place. He looks awfully young."

"Perhaps. It doesn't really matter. Let's get going."

(Yes, the villains all have bird-themed codenames. I have no idea why.)

This scene just makes my day. I love dramatic unmaskings. I bet they'd have been a lot happier unmasking Iron Man.

The villains then leave Steve and go to a power plant, where we switch POVs to one of the plant employees and get two entirely unnecessary paragraphs about his racist and anti-Semitic thoughts about his coworkers before the villains murder him. Great. Thanks.

Anyway, the villains cause a blackout, while meanwhile they've left Steve alone with the girl villain, and Steve is busy trying to persuade her that crime doesn't pay. He's moved from the "do you know what they'll do to you in prison?" theme onto "how exactly are you going to spend a billion dollars in gold bullion when it's illegal for civilians to possess? who are you going to do business with?" and then points out that gold is heavy and hard to transport, which is when she gets out a a knife.

The bad guys are off to steal the gold, and Steve has now successfully turned the girl they left him with, because she frees him. Of course, the first thing he does is put the cowl back on.

"Why do you wear that?" she asked.

"The mask?" He smiled. "It gives people something external to concentrate upon."

"But..."

"Without it, I'm just another ordinary-looking man. With it, I become a symbol. For some people it creates awe; for others, fear. Look at me. I'm different now, aren't I? With the mask on."

"Yes," she nodded. "You look -- bigger, somehow. Stronger. Fierce, implacable. You look a little scary."

"Exactly. You no longer see me as a person, but as a thing -- an Avenger. It can be a potent psychological weapon."

"They were so disappointed, when they took your mask off. As though underneath they'd find a famous person."

"Maybe that goes on TV -- handsome playboys, and all that. But I've been anonymous all my life. Even my real name would be meaningless to you, to them. No, the mask is part of the uniform, a psychological device. That's the whole story.

Now: let's get out of here. You have a good deal more to tell me yet, and we can't waste more time."

Bwahaha. In a few years, Steve's going to be pretty surprised about who superheroes are, I think.

STEVE, now: Superheroes definitely aren't secretly handsome playboys! That would be silly! STEVE, after Molecule Man: fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK I'm such an idiot

I'm definitely looking forward to that.

Also, not that the issue of Steve's psyche actually recurs after this, but he's once again having the narrative vindicate his belief that Steve Rogers is dead and whoever he is under the cowl doesn't matter. Steve, I don't think this is very healthy.

Steve then tracks down the villains stealing the gold, has some geopolitical thoughts about where the gold could be going (he thinks either South Africa or Russia for the best laundering potential) and then hides himself in the villains' trunk while they drive to Staten Island, which is where they're taking the gold out of the country from.

During the final confrontation, Steve finally gets to see the villains, and he discovers that the one in charge is in fact the director of the Federal Reserve Bank who Steve met at the beginning of this book. Gasp. But that's not all! He's also... the Red Skull!

Honestly, I was kind of surprised; I didn't think this was the kind of book where we'd get any known comic villains, but I guess it's always gotta be the Red Skull. I think he's the only one of Steve's big villains who likes to disguise himself; Zemo has obvious disguise issues and I imagine it's also hard to cover up Zola's Teletubby-esque television body.

Steve shoots one of the villains, because I guess that's what he does in this era of canon.

So the plot wraps up in, like, two pages, because for some reason all these early Marvel novels wrap up very fast. Red Skull, of course, attempts to escape and then disappears and his body is never found. The end.

Well.

That was definitely a book. That I read. Believe it or not, I actually think it was the best of these early Marvel prose novels that I've read so far, even if it was also the absolute weirdest; I thought the thriller-style plot was entertaining, I liked Steve and his Extremely Sad characterization, I obviously enjoy all the identity themes, I liked how very detailed the New York setting was, and I do like how they tried to treat it all seriously. I mean, sure, this did lead to LSD in the super-soldier serum in presumably the name of realism, but I felt like the book was trying to present superheroes in a way that didn't feel silly and also didn't really take for granted that the reader would automatically accept superheroes.

It felt like a book that was written hoping that people who weren't superhero fans would read it, if that makes any sense. And I thought that was interesting, because most modern superhero work that I can think of assumes they've got complete audience buy-in and everyone is willing to suspend their disbelief and we all know the genre conventions and are expecting people running around in brightly-colored spandex. Whereas this is more like a James Bond novel if for some reason James Bond were called upon to defend his decision to wear brightly-colored spandex instead of bespoke suits. But I assume no one read it, because Bantam never published a Marvel book after this one.

If you can actually find a copy of this one for a price you're willing to pay. I recommend it. It was delightful and way more solid than I thought it was going to be.

Also, come on, you know you want to read about Captain America's acid trip.

[marvxlousqueen]

So Fucking Sore- Bucky x Loki x Reader

i have returned from the dead to deliver this smut for my friend’s birthday LMAOO anyways for this let’s just pretend tony killed thanos in endgame and brought back nat and gamora and nobody died haha yes anyways bucky is a simp in this tbh (and i’ve never written for loki so forgive me if it’s bad LMAOO)

anyways happy bday bestie (don’t wanna expose ur name on here lol) love u <3

word count: 3.5k

The Avengers compound was more full than it had ever been. Finally, every floor was filled, every guest room taken, some sleeping bags even rolled onto the floor. Tony hadn’t planned to host the entirety of the avengers force, some odd one thousand people. After defeating Thanos and fixing the time lines, Tony felt as though they deserved a break and a celebration. Although most people were still recovering and wouldn’t stay for long at the party, he figured laughter is the best medicine- that, and he always loved an occasion to show off his hosting skills. 

Tony’s invitation even extended to the staff at the compound, which is how (Y/n) found herself holding a rsvp letter, trying to decide which box to check off. 

“Yes [   ]  (+1)   No [    ]”

She fumbled with the letter, pen getting heavy in her hand. She was seated in her office, taking her lunch break in between helping some of the injured Wakandan soldiers. Being an on-site nurse, of course she had had encounters with the team, but nothing like this party would be. 

Would it be embarrassing if I didn’t have a plus one, she thought

She was interrupted by a knock at her door. “Come in,” she said without looking up. 

The door slowly opened and Bucky entered, small smile on his face. 

“Hey.. just figured I’d bring you some snacks. Figure you must be real busy in the infirmary.”

He set a plate of strawberries on the table with a bottle of water, metal arm extending towards her. (Y/n) could briefly see her reflection in the shine of the vibranium. She lost herself for a moment, examining his arm.

“(Y/n)?” 

“What- oh yeah! Super busy. Thanks, Buck,” she gave him a smile, cheeks burning.

They had always had some sort of chemistry, but she just couldn’t quite get a read on it enough to make a move. Ever since reconnecting with Steve, Bucky had gotten back into his old ways. Still a giant flirt, just maybe a little more shy than in the 40s. He loved to toss some pick up lines around whenever he wound up in the infirmary (which was a little too often), so (Y/n) couldn’t figure out if he really liked her or was flirty with everyone. 

“What’s that you got there?” He motioned to the rsvp letter on her desk, still unanswered.

“Oh, invitation to Tony’s party thing this weekend. Think he’s trying to get a head count for seats and food. Don’t think I’m going to go, though.”

Bucky pulled up a chair to her desk, “Why wouldn’t you go? You should be celebrating too, I mean- half of us wouldn’t be in this good of a condition without your healing hands.”

His lips pulled into a smirk as he saw her smile shyly. He loved how we could always make her melt at the slightest compliement.

“I think it might be a little embarrassing to show up without a plus one.. I don’t know, it’s probably stupid, but it seems like everyone has someone, you know?”

(Y/n) shrugged, not sure how else to explain her thoughts.

Bucky nodded, running a hand through his hair, “So- what, you’re waiting for someone to ask you?” 

“I- No, but it would be nice, I guess.”

Bucky felt his face heat up. Here’s my chance, he thought. A chance to get some real action because I’ve been out of it for too fucking long. 

(Y/n) looked up at him, waiting for a response. When nothing came, she pushed through her nerves. “You don’t have a date, do you?”

His eyes snapped up to hers, wide with worry. “I-uh-no. D-don’t need one. Just a party, you know? Kinda stupid to get a date for a party like this.”

“Oh- yeah, totally,” (Y/n) stumbled over her words, facing burning with embarrassment. Did he call me stupid? Well, I guess that answers my questions- he is definitely NOT into me. 

 Bucky almost slapped himself after seeing the way (Y/n)’s face dropped. THAT CAME OUT WRONG THAT CAME OUT WRONG THAT CAME OUT WRONG!! He meant to come off as relaxed and nonchalant like he used to be, but instead he sounded like a dick. 

Before he could get an apology out, another knock was heard from her office door. “C-come in!”

Steve opened the door, “Hey- oh hey buck,” Bucky awkwardly waved at him, still busy screaming at himself, “anyways, (Y/n)- Thor’s got friends on the way and apparently they got a little scuffed up on the way from Norway, so you think you can head in and check on em?” 

“Yes! Totally! Uh- bye Bucky, I-I’ll see you.” She jumped out of her seat and rushed off down the hall, happy to get away from this tension with Bucky.

Steve watched her speed off down the hall before turning back to his old friend. “So.. how’s that going?”

Bucky sighed, “It’s not going at all. I think I accidently called her dumb? I don’t know- I kinda blacked out for a minute there.”

Steve patted him on the shoulder, “You’ll be fine. You got plenty of time to fix anything and make your move when you’re ready, all right?”

He understood how his friend was having some difficulties. While he was far more stable then he used to be, Bucky still had his moments and was working through them. Steve couldn’t be prouder. 

“I guess you’re right. As long as no other guy tries to scoop her up.”

--

(Y/n) entered the infirmary, breathing hard from the speed walk she took to escape that awkwardness. Laying on two of the beds was a tall man with long black hair and some sort of creature with knives attached to it’s hands. 

“(Y/n)! My friends require your services!” Thor shouts, embracing her in a hug.

She laughs as he squeezes her tightly, “Of course! Now let me go so I can help-”

The man who was reclining on the first bed sat up, eyebrows raised. “You’re a healer?”

She looked towards him, noting his accent was similar to Thor’s, “Well- no. Not a healer, just a nurse, but I’ll do my best. With all this new tech it’ll be real easy to batch you up. What happened?”

Thor spoke up, “My dear friend here,” he motioned toward the creature with the blades for hands, “Miek- got into a argument with my dear brother and knives were thrown. Just minor stab wounds of course, but it would be nice for them to be healed before Stark’s feast.”

“Your brother?” She looked towards the man with black hair, who offered a smile. “You’re Loki?” 

“The trickster god indeed.”

Her face heated up, partially in fear and partially in awe. Before her was the man who constantly tried to rule Earth. “Are you-,” she turned to Thor, “is he allowed to be here?”

“Of course! He aided me in our fight against Thanos. He stands as an avenger now.” 

Loki rolled his eyes and began to spin a small knife he pulled from his boot.  (Y/n) nodded, still registering everything, “Well, uh , okay then. Where’s the stab wound?” 

Loki moved to lift his shirt. On his left side was a gash still dripping blood. (Y/n) took a deep breathe, forcing herself to focus on his wound and not the outline of his abs and the way sweat was dripping down.

“Oh- jesus christ, okay. Let me get some stuff.”

The creature on the other bed made a noise and (Y/n) realized he was injured too, a small blade sticking out of his leg. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” She ran to the other side to grab materials and begin patching them up. The process went like a blur. All she could feel was the way Loki’s body felt warm against hers, not like the cold she was expecting from his being a dark elf. His hand brushed against hers as he admired her handy work, eyes moving from her face to her form. Finally she was done and seated back in her office, yelling at herself for being so horny today for no goddamn reason. 

As she took a seat once again, she noticed the still blank rsvp card.

God-fucking-damn it

She still had a decision to make. As she went to check the “No [   ]” box, her door opened. Loki walked in and quickly made himself comfortable, sitting across from her. 

“I wish to thank you for the help.”

(Y/n) nodded, eyes wide, “Of course, yeah, anyth-”

“I also wish to invite you to Stark’s feast.”

She froze, mouth slightly open. I don’t even know this dude! And he’s killed a shit ton of people..

“Uh, well,” oh fuck it, “I would love that. Thanks.”

He smiled, “I’ll see you then, (Y/n).”

He left and closed the door behind him. She rushed to fill out the card and went to find Tony. Knowing him, he’d probably be down in his lab playing robots with Morgan. (Y/n) hopped in the elevator and headed towards the basement above the parking garage. It stopped around 3 floors down and the sign flashed “gym.” The doors opened and Bucky entered, sweaty from trying to workout and get rid of all these new feelings he’s having. He didn’t look up from his phone until the doors closed behind him. 

His eyes landed on hers, “O-oh hey! Hi.”

(Y/n) gave him a wave and looked down at her letter, rolling it up in her hands.

“You going to the party?”

“Yep.”

“That’s good! Really good! Because you really don’t need a date for stuff like this, we’re all friends, right?” Bucky was desperately trying to make up for what he had said earlier. 

“I have a date actually.”

His eyes widened, “What? Who?”

She turned and shrugged, “Just some guy I met, don’t think you would know him.”

A light went off in his head- she’s trying to make me jealous, isn’t she! She doesn’t have a date! She just wants me to make my move!

Bucky laughed and gave her a smirk, “You don’t have to lie to impress me, doll.”

She whipped around, “Excuse me? You don’t think I can get a date?”

His cheeks turned bright red, “W-what? No, you’re just trying to make me jealous.. right?”

Her jaw dropped, “You are so full of it.” 

The elevator dinged and (Y/n) exited into the basement, leaving Bucky’s head full of questions.

Did I just fuck up again, he thought. 

The next few days past fairly quickly. (Y/n) spent her time in the medical bay once again, dealing with minor injuries and organizing the first aid kits. The few highlights she did have was a quick lunch with Loki, which seemed very abnormal for him. He showed up in her office with, as he called it, “Midgardian Trash,” which was just a plate of different snack foods that Clint had recommended. They ate in a comfortable silence, sharing a few thoughts here and there, until he took his que to leave. (Y/n) walked him to the door and was surprised when he pressed a kiss to her cheek, making her face heat up.

“See you tomorrow, dear (Y/n).”

She stumbled out a response, making him laugh at her speechlessness. After work she rushed to prepare herself for Saturday night.

--

It was probably the biggest party upstate New York had ever seen. Completely catered, a professional band, everyone dressed up in their finest clothing. (Y/n) would’ve felt completely out of place if it wasn’t for Loki’s arm wrapped around her waist as they entered. He was dressed in a black suit with a dark green tie, constantly repping his main color. Time flew as they spun on the dance floor and drank a little too much, although alcohol didn’t seem to have much effect on him. Loki excused himself to the restroom as (Y/n) downed a glass of water to sober up. She felt someone sit next to her at the bar.

“Look, I’m not interested-”

“Are you crazy? Like- do you genuinely have a death wish?”

She looked beside her and was face to face with Bucky. It felt weird to see him so dressed up. She was used to the sweats and t-shirts, but she had to admit that he cleaned up nice. 

“What are you talking about?”

He glared at her, “Loki? Your date is LOKI. Steve filled me in, I know everything. He’s killed people, (Y/n)! A lot of them!”

“So have you.”

“I-” His voice faltered. “That’s different, you know it is. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

“Well don’t be. He’s actually a pretty good guy. And here he comes now.”

Loki appeared, tapping Bucky on the shoulder, “can I help you?”

“We were just talking.”

He laughed, “seems you would rather do much more than that.”

(Y/n)’s brows furrowed, ‘What does that mean?”

Bucky’s face turned red, “nothing! I guess I’ll leave you two alone now.” 

“Nonsense,” Loki pushed him back into the chair. “Tell the woman what you think of her. Perhaps it could work out for you, or for us both.”

“What!?”

(Y/n) was confused again, “What the fuck are you guys talking about?”

Loki looked her up and down, “don’t be a fool. He fancies you, as do I. I propose an agreement-”

“wait what,” she looked at Bucky, “you like me? Like- more than a friend?”

He looked down at the table, confused and frustrated about his feelings and about how this alien douchebag was making fun of him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke up.

“Listen asshole-”

Loki rolled his eyes, “do you wish to mount the lady or no?”

(Y/n) choked on her water, “what the fuck-”

Bucky’s eyes felt like they would fall out of his head, but he responded instinctively, “yes, god yes.”

Butterflies went off in (Y/n)’s stomach, eyes locked onto Bucky’s face.

“Great. So do I. So we shall share her then? Tonight? What do you think?” 

Loki turned to (Y/n), who was in shock.

“I-what?”

“Tonight, the two of us, yes? In your chambers, perhaps.”

“I-uh, okay.”

Bucky licked his lips, “Okay?”

“Yes, I mean-fuck, why not. You are both.. wow.”

Loki laughed, “Great, but truly shocking how blind you mortals are to each other.” 

The three of them sat in a weird tension at the bar while waiting for Tony to give his toast. After about 10 minutes of emotional rambling, Tony finally raised his glass to the Avengers. (Y/n) downed her drink and looked to the two men sitting beside her. Locking eyes, they shared a common thought and all excused themselves one by one. They found their way into (Y/n)’s bedroom, where she made herself at home by throwing off the heels she had been wearing all night. 

“So-uh-”

Bucky cut off her rambling with a hot, open mouthed kiss pressed to her lips. His hands trailed down her sides and grabbed her ass. He pulled away, breathing hard. “You have no idea, how long I’ve wanted to do that.” 

He suddenly felt far more confident and began to strip off his suit, starting with the tie that had been choking him all night. Loki threw off his coat and pushed (Y/n) onto her bed. 

“I want you to kneel.” 

She stood up on her knees, face flushed, waiting for his next move. He slowly undid his pants and pulled out his cock. 

Well, yeah, he’s definitely packing

(Y/n) pressed a kiss to the tip before licking her way from the bottom back to the top. She took a deep breath and took him in her mouth as far as she could. Loki began to thrust, gripping her hair and pushing her forward, using her mouth as a fucktoy. (Y/n) opened her eyes to look up at him and noticed Bucky on the side, hand in his pants, eyes zeroed in on her mouth. She motioned for Bucky to strip, making him drop his pants and boxers, leaving him now completely exposed. His hand continued to pump his length, whimpers leaving his mouth. Loki noticed (Y/n)’s eye’s on Bucky and pulled away from her, leaving spit and precum dripping down her mouth.

“Take her.”

Bucky’s face flushed, embarrassed to be doing exactly what some other dude told him to. He walked towards the bed, cock standing proudly. 

“Is this okay?”

(Y/n) nodded yes, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him onto the bed with her. With Bucky underneath her, she lined up with his dick and sunk down onto it.

“Fuck! Jesus-fuck-”

(Y/n) couldn’t think for a moment, too distracted by how much he was stretching her. Bucky’s head was thrown up and his grip on her thighs tightened. He lifted his tips and bucked into her, making her gasp again.

Regaining her composure, (Y/n) began to roll her hips. As she rode him, Bucky sat up and his lips found their way to her neck, leaving marks up and down it. From the side of the bed, she could see Loki completely exposed now, hand running up and down his length as he watched them. He smirked as he caught her eye, making it more of a show. 

His hand moved faster before focusing on his tip. (Y/n)’s thoughts were broken from him as Bucky began to paw at her clit, rubbing it just the right way. Her hands went to his hair, pulling him close.

“God, so fucking-shit-so tight-”

Bucky’s voiced was strained, trying not to finish before her, but (Y/n) was making it difficult with how tight she was clamped around him. 

“Fuck-i’m so close, please!”

Bucky started thrusting up into her, “say my name-fuck”

“Bucky! Please!”

He rammed into her with a quick pace, hands groping her ass. (Y/n) a warmth growing in her, squeezing his dick even more. Finally, she reached her peak and exploded around him, dripping her juices down his dick. Bucky quickly flipped them over, putting one of her legs over his shoulder and started to pound into her. (Y/n) choked on her breath, completely overwhelmed from the overstimulation. Bucky’s thrusts began to stutter until he bucked one last time, going deep into her and exploding. He filled her up and slowly pulled out, seeing his cum dripping out of her.

“Holy shit.”

(Y/n) laughed, trying to catch her breath, “thanks, you too.”

“Quite the show, indeed.”

(Y/n) had almost forgot there was a whole other dude waiting to fuck her. Looking over, Loki’s cock was still standing tall, the tip burning red. 

He stood up and made his way to the bed, “On your hands and knees.”

His command made butterflies form in her stomach. (Y/n) turned over and got on her hands and knees. Loki entered her without warning, making her scream out in surprise. His hand came to her head, pushing her into the mattress. His pace picked up as he slammed into her.

“Jesus-fucking-god!”

Loki laughed through his heavy breathing, literally fucking her into the mattress.

“Let’s get something in that mouth, yes? Barnes-”

Bucky’s eyes moved from watching where Loki was connecting with (Y/n) to her mouth. “Sure-yeah, fuck yes.”

Bucky was thankful for his super soldier qualities because he was already up for round two. He got on the bed, dick facing (Y/n)’s mouth. She got back on her hands and kissed his tip before he pushed in. Bucky let (Y/n) control the pace although most times she was pushed on his dick by Loki’s hard thrusts. (Y/n) lost track of time as she getting literally fucking railed. Loki’s thrusts began to speed up and sweat was dripping down his godly body. 

(Y/n) felt the coil in her stomach tighten again, warmth spreading through out her, she was close, moaning around Bucky’s length. He pulled out of her mouth and began to jerk off, enjoying the show Loki and her were putting on. 

(Y/n) screamed as she reached her climax for the second time that night, eyes rolling to the back of her head, but Loki didn’t slow. He continued until one finally thrust, he pulled out and spilled onto her back, throwing his head back.

The noises (Y/n) was making made Bucky cum into his own hand before collapsing on the bed. 

(Y/n) dropped onto the bed, legs shaking. “Jesus- fuck.”

Bucky put a hand to her cheek, “you okay? We didn’t hurt you, did we?”

She shook her head, “No, just-fuck- I’m gonna be so fucking sore.”

[craziest-in-the-guild]

Resolute

Chapter 2 of the Long Night series

Content Warnings: 18+ for some adult themes (still not to the smut, but were headed there) Nightmares/post traumatic stress

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Although this is reader x rex, I couldn't help but make reader a red head. Hope that's ok. Is it dyed? Natural? You decide!

I said goodbye to Kix and handed over his care to my coworker. His ankle was broken in two places, and while it wasn’t bad enough for surgery, it would be soaking in bacta for several hours. I had given him some pain meds and told him to enjoy his rest.

I hated to leave him, but I needed to go home and get ready to ship out in the morning. I needed rest myself, but I knew there was no way I was going to sleep. How could I sleep? I was never meant to be on the battlefield.

_____________________________

Rex headed back to the barracks to tell his men about Kix and their new medic. Kix had assured him that he thought she would be able to handle the stress of a war zone. He hoped for her sake that he had made the right decision.

“Where’s Kix?” Jesse asked as soon as Rex came through the door.

“Kix broke his kriffing ankle and won’t be shipping out with us.”

“Who’s going to be our medic?” Fives asked, “Surely not one of those kriffing med droids!”

“I found a replacement. You know the medic from medbay that patches you all up when you are too drunk from 79’s or hurt from a fight? She is coming with us.”

“HER?” They all asked, surprised.

“Yes, her,” a weary Rex responded. “Kix said he wanted her to be his replacement, and I want you all to make her feel welcome. Afterall, she may save your hide out there.”

______________________

Maker, I had just closed my eyes when my alarm started blaring. The room was cold and my covers were nice and toasty, killing any will I might have had to get up. Why is a bed the most comfortable right when you have to leave?

I grumbled, threw back the covers, and headed to the fresher. I indulged myself, heating the water until it was steaming. I didn’t know how the showers were aboard light cruisers, but I was betting they weren’t this good. My self indulgence couldn’t last too long, or else I’d be running late. Begrudgingly, I turned the water off.

I heard a knock at my apartment door and wondered who it could be at this early hour. I slid on my robe and went to investigate.

“Captain, what are you doing here so early? Am I late?” I crossed my arms to ensure my robe stayed closed, feeling slightly awkward in front of the captain. It didn’t help that he was so handsome. I could feel my cheeks flushing.

“No, I just wanted to come get you so we could go to the quartermaster’s and make sure you have everything you need.”

He handed me a pair of blacks to put on. I was a little confused as blacks were what the troopers wore under their armor.

“Oh, ok, um, do you want to come in while I finish getting dressed?”

The captain seemed surprised that I invited him in. We both stood still in the awkward silence for a moment, both presumably exhausted and not firing on all cylinders. I could see the dark circles under his eyes that indicated he hadn’t slept either. I wondered if he ever really slept.

“I have fresh caf brewing,” I offered.

Fresh caf was enough to lure him in. I brought him a steaming hot cup and then headed to the fresher to get dressed.

“We’re going to outfit you with clone armor for this mission, that’s part of why I’m here early. I wanted to have enough time to get you fitted and dressed. We aren’t used to fitting armor to a woman” Rex said.

“I’d say not. Do you think there will be enough room in the chest?” I quipped. With that, I heard Captain Rex choke on his caf and go into a coughing fit.

“Sorry!” I yelled from the fresher. I could only imagine the look I was getting.

I came out of the fresher to find the Captain as composed as ever. You would have never known that he nearly suffered death by witty comment and hot caf five minutes earlier.

Captain Rex stood and moved to the door, “Ready?”

I grabbed my bag, stepped into the hallway, and paused to look at my small apartment, wondering if I’d ever see it again.

_______________________________________________

We arrived at the quartermaster’s to find a shiny new set of armor sitting on the counter. I immediately grabbed the helmet to try it on, only to find it to be too big. As I turned my head, it shifted from side to side. I couldn’t help but giggle a little, feeling like a child stealing their dad’s helmet. The captain cracked a smile.

“I think you need some extra padding,” he said as he took the helmet off my head. He added a few more pads to help tailor the fit. There hadn’t been time to get me a custom helmet.

“Oh, that’s much better”

“Are you ready to quit playing and try the rest on?” Rex asked with a small smile.

“Go ahead and put on the bottom half, then I’ll help you with the top half”.

The boots fit much better than the helmet. The codpiece was a little awkward, but I figured I’d get used to it, or at least use it to make obscene jokes.

“Here, let me help you with the back plate and breast plate, they’re a bit difficult until you get used to them.”

He snapped on the abdominal plate and then the breast and back plates. He stood behind me, adjusting everything. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, and it was sending small shivers down my spine. The Captain was quiet and I yearned to break the silence, but didn’t know what to say.

“Captain-“

“Please call me Rex.” It was nearly a whisper. This sent even more shivers down my spine. Did he know what he was doing to me?

The moment- was it a “moment”?- was shattered.

“Hey! Red on the head, fire in the bed!” Fives hollered from across the room.

I laughed and rolled my eyes back as far as they would go.

He had called me that one night in med bay when he had been brought in, half passed out from a night at 79’s. One look at my red hair, and he’d uttered the phrase that had basically become my nickname. He said it to me every time I saw him in med bay, which was often.

“Fives! How are you? It’s been more than a couple weeks since I’ve seen your drunk carcass in med bay,” I jeered.

“Captain’s been keeping us out in the field a lot lately, he doesn’t believe in fun,” he said with a goofy grin on his face. Rex punched him in the shoulder.

Rex finished adjusting the breast plate and attaching my pauldrons. The left pauldron bore the red and white mark of a clone medic.

Fives had disappeared into the storage room and came back with a medic bag. He blew the dust off of it and handed it to me.

“Here, put this and your helmet on. Let’s see the whole thing,” he said.

I put them on and looked out of the helmet to see Rex and Fives beaming.

“You look great, doc,” Fives said.

“Fives, report to the launch bay, we’ll be along shortly,” Rex ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

Fives gave me a salute and a wink as he walked off. I gave him an audible huff and eye roll he couldn’t see through my helmet.

Rex chuckled.

“You’re going to fit in well here, you know.”

—————————

The hangar was a sight to behold with all of the clones in formation.

Rex gave a short motivational speech and ordered everyone into the transports.

“You stay with me, Fives, Jesse, Tup, Echo, Dogma, or Hardcase, and you’ll be fine,” Rex instructed.

I nodded and put my helmet on. I loaded into the crowded transport with them and we headed for the Jedi cruiser Resolute.

Coruscant faded away as we climbed higher.

________________________

The Resolute was bigger than I could have imagined. I had seen holo images of cruisers, but it doesn’t compare to seeing one for real. There were so many ships in the hangars. I walked past an AT-TE and stopped to marvel at the size.

“Wanna see the inside?” Hardcase asked.

“Hell yes I do!”

Hardcase beamed at my enthusiasm. His first loves were weapons and heavy equipment.

“This pretty girl can climb just about anything she encounters. She’s even got magnetized feet so she can climb metal,” he explained as I looked around the cockpit at all the buttons.

“She can even withstand being in space for a bit, since she can be pressurized. Sometime you’ll have to ask Rex about that adventure. Here, I’ll give you a boost up into the gunner’s seat.”

The gunner sat exposed, but I could easily see how it would be fun to mow down droids with the cannon. I looked down to see Rex looking up at us.

“Hardcase, it’s time to get everything ready for tomorrow, there’s lots to be done. Our medic there needs to get to her briefing, too,” he instructed.

“Thanks, Hardcase, this was fun, can you show me more another time?”

“Yep, anytime. It’s always my pleasure to show off my toys,” he had a cheesy grin stretching from ear to ear.

I hopped down and followed Rex to my first briefing.

________________________

Dinner followed the briefing. The boys were rowdy and there was a sense of excitement buzzing in the air. I ate my meal in near silence, being plenty entertained by the crass and ridiculous things the men of the 501st were discussing. It was clear that it helped keep their minds off of the coming battle.

It was late when I retired to my quarters, hoping to get a few hours of rest.

______________

Geonosis was barren, except for various rock formations. The night was eerily dark and Rex was alone. He walked the desert landscape, looking for any signs of life. He tried his comm again, only to be answered with broken static.

The Captain finally saw something in the distance, although he could not make it out. As he approached the shapes, Rex found Fives, Jesse, and her, laying on the ground. He removed their helmets, only to see dark voids where their eyes had been. Blood started pouring out of the chasms. Their lifeless bodies suddenly sat up, repeating “It’s your fault we’re dead.”

Rex’s eyes shot open and he awoke to find he was still in his bunk. He was covered in sweat and his heart was nearly beating out of his chest.

It was just a nightmare.

The nightmares never stopped.

Being a soldier was hard, but being a leader was harder. He never stopped wondering if he made the wrong decisions. He never stopped worrying about his vod. So many had died, and he still carried each one with him.

He decided to go to the mess hall for some caf. Might as well since he couldn’t sleep anyway. Rex walked past his men to the door. He was relieved to see Fives, Jesse, Tup, Echo, Hardcase, and Dogma, all asleep, snoring, in their bunks. He looked around and wondered which men he would lose tomorrow. A tear escaped and he let it fall, knowing that no one would see. He wiped the tears away and continued towards the mess.

The door slid open. The mess was empty except for her. She had her head down on a table, red hair splayed over her arms. He wondered how long she’d been here. Rex walked to her, gently calling her name. She didn’t even flinch. A cup of caf was beside her, ice cold, indicating she had been there for some time.

Rex laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Wake up, cyar'ika, you’ll be much more comfortable in your bed.”

She drowsily raised her head and brushed her hair back.

“Rex?” she asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Yeah, it’s me. C’mon, I’ll walk you back to your quarters.”

She stood up and stretched. There were lines across her face from where it had rested on her arm. Rex couldn’t help but smile.

They walked back to her quarters, making small talk along the way.

“I’m nervous, that’s why I couldn’t sleep,” she said spontaneously.

“I would expect you to be nervous,” he assured, “I won’t sugar coat it and say that it will be easy. It will likely be a bloodbath. But, we’ll be there to help you. We will get through this together.”

They stopped in front of her door and she turned to Rex, laying a hand on his arm.

“Thank you, Rex,” she said and then disappeared into her room.

He stood at the closed door for a minute, her touch still lingering.

“Sleep well, mesh’la.”

_________________________________________

I woke up early so I could check my medic bag and have a cup of caf before deploying.

The mess hall wasn’t busy, but there were a few clones up and about. I grabbed my caf and scanned the room. Jesse saw me and waved me to a table with him, Dogma, Echo, and Tup.

“ ‘Mornin, boys.”

“ ‘’Mornin, Doc,” they replied in near unison. It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers to call their medics “doc”. Field medics did it all.

“Where’s Fives and Hardcase?” I inquired.

“Those two will sleep til the last second,” Dogma said as he rolled his eyes. I’d been told Dogma was a stickler for rules. I expected he was early for everything.

I sat down next to Jesse, started sipping my caf, and inventorying my bag.

Bacta? Check.

IV supplies? Check.

Normal saline? Check.

Lasted ringers? Check.

Bandages? Check.

Tourniquets? Check.

The bag didn’t hold much, but it was enough to get the men back to the field hospital. I sat the bag on the floor and joined the conversation.

“You ready, Doc?” Tup asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. You boys just try to keep from getting blown to bits and I’ll be fine,” I jeered. They laughed in agreement.

“Seriously? I’m scared shitless, but I know you guys have my back and that makes it better,” I admitted.

“It’s ok, I think everyone but Hardcase was scared on their first mission,” Jesse said.

I’d met Hardcase a few times in med bay. He never backed down from a fight, in fact, he usually went looking for it.

Our comms lit up and a voice announced that we needed to report to our gunships. We cleared the table and headed down to the hangar. As we entered the elevator, Fives and .

Hardcase came running down the hall,

“Hold the door, wait for us!” Fives shouted.

I held the door for them. Both were still finishing putting on their armor. I smiled and shook my head.

“Whhhaaattt?” Fives asked with a smile. “Better late than never, right?”captain

[annab-nana]

Menstrual Mess - Peter Parker

Peter’s spidey senses were telling him that something was wrong with his newest friend, but he could not quite figure out what it was. When his problem-solving brain would not give it a rest, it proved to be more harm than good.

A/N: This is my first marvel/Peter Parker imagine so I really hope you guys enjoy it :) 

Warnings: some curse words; period talk (blood, cramps, tampons and such)

Word Count: 2.8k+

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Peter Parker was your newfound friend, possibly even best friend. Going to the same school and sharing most of the same classes is how you knew each other, but about three weeks ago when your last class got a new seating chart that placed you and Peter next to each other, your mere acquaintance became a really good friend. You both talked more, walked to your classes together, you started sitting with him at lunch, studied with each other. Y’all even started walking home together sometimes after realizing that you two didn’t live too far away from each other.

Now, Peter was still learning and getting used to his powers and senses. One day when his senses enhanced almost every time he was around you, he got a little suspicious. Something was different with you because this never happened before and it only occurred when he was around you. Something felt different and smelled different. Something was wrong with you and it worried him. He had asked if you were okay a few times throughout the day which you had noticed after the second or third time. You also noticed his worried glances and how his leg never stopped bouncing the whole day. His anxious tendencies worried you a little, but you tried to shrug it off.

“Are you sure you are okay?” Peter asked you for what felt like the millionth time just in the five hours you two had been at school.

“Yes, Peter,” you chuckled while closing your locker and looking into the boy’s big brown worry-filled eyes. “I am perfectly fine. Are you okay because you have not stopped asking me that all day long? You’re worrying me, Parker.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I- I’ve just had a weird feeling all day that I can’t seem to shake,” he told you honestly as his fingers fiddled with the bottom of his shirt.

“Did you have a bad dream last night or something?” you asked, walking next to the nervous boy to your next class.

“Umm yeah actually. You, Ned, and MJ were all getting hurt and I couldn’t help you,” Peter told you. It was a lie, but it helped to cover up why he was so anxious about you.

“So that’s why you’ve been asking if I was okay?” He nodded to answer your question and it warmed your heart. You thought it was adorable how he had a nightmare and his fears from it were carrying over into the day. He was genuinely worried that something bad would happen to you and it showed how much he cared.

“That’s really sweet, Parker,” you mumbled as your shoulders brushed each other. Your hands probably would’ve too if his hands weren’t stuffed into his pockets.

“I’ll talk to you after class, okay?” he said when you two reached the door of Mr. Dell’s class.

“Yep.” And with that, you two took your seats across the room from each other and began taking notes on the lecture your teacher was giving.

...

Peter hoped that his senses would have dialed down the next day, but they didn’t. In fact, they had heightened more, and it terrified him. He was worrying that he might have sensed a sickness or something else bad going on within you before you knew it or felt it. This time when he walked up to you, you looked a little more like something was wrong with you and not as bubbly and happy as you were yesterday.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked you with a chuckle when his eyes landed on your body that was leaned up against the lockers, your head held back, and eyes shut.

“No, I’m tired,” you mumbled, not opening your eyes. You just wanted to turn around and go back home to sleep, but you couldn’t do that.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night?” he inquired while leaning against the lockers as well, facing you. You turned your body to face his and opened one eye as you nodded your head at him. Last night, your monthly visitor came, and your cramps were a pure bitch, only letting you sleep in half-hour increments.

“Well, I heard that we’re watching a Civil War video in Mr. Miller’s class so why don’t you take a nap? He won’t be paying attention anyway and if he does happen to look up from his computer, I’ll hide you since I sit in front of you. You can get my notes on it later,” Peter offered as his eyes scanned over your calm face. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his and you nodded your head gently at him.

“That sounds nice. Thanks, Peter,” you whispered softly and gave him a lazy smile. He laughed at his tired friend before wrapping an arm around your shoulders, letting you lean into him.

“Come on, sleepy. Let’s go to history.”

Later on in the day after you had a refreshing nap and went to some more classes, you felt a bit better, but Peter’s senses were still going haywire. So, he asked once again if you were okay.

“I’m fine, Peter!” you snapped as you slammed your locker door rather loudly at the end of the school day. You both were taken back by your sudden outburst and an apology quickly flew from your lips. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s okay, y/n. Uhh, what are you doing today?” he questioned, trying to change the subject.

“Probably work on my cell model. What about you?” you continued the conversation with the boy as you two walked out of school.

“Stark internship,” he reminded you with a smile, pushing the metal door open and letting you go through first.

“Oh yeah, how could I forget the one thing that occupies almost all your time,” you joked while you waited for him to walk with you.

“Y/n, you sound jealous,” he teased, poking at your side to which you quickly grabbed his hand and shot him a death glare. His laugh sounded through the air while you dropped his hand from yours and playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“You wish I was jealous,” you scoffed and grabbed onto the straps of your backpack. You were about to laugh along with Peter, but a cramp in your stomach caused the laugh to come out as a low groan which you tried to cover it all up with a cough.

“You good?” he asked genuinely as his eyebrows drew together in confusion at whatever just happened to you.

“Yeah, just had a tickle in my throat,” you said after you let a few more coughs out to really sell it. He slowly nodded his head, unsure of what to think but he brushed it off.

“Well, this is where we split,” he announced when you two approached the point in your trip home where he had to turn to go to his internship.

“See ya, Parker,” you told him while you waved and crossed the street to continue going straight towards your place.

...

“Something just doesn’t feel right, Karen. Everything in me is saying that something is wrong with her and I don’t know what. I’m scared that there could be something seriously wrong with her and my senses are trying to warn me to help her, but I don’t know what to do. Yesterday, I thought they were wrong, but today, she genuinely seemed off and that on top of my senses telling me something’s wrong is making me really worried,” Peter told his ‘suit lady’ while being perched on the roof of a building, overlooking the view of Queens.

“Have you asked her how she feels?” Karen responded to the worried teenager.

“I’m afraid I’ve asked her too much that I might be annoying her, but I can’t help but ask her,” he stated, his eyes scanning over the city below him. He turned to his left to look over that way, knowing your building wasn’t that far away. “I’m gonna go see if she’s okay now.”

Shooting his web at the next building over, he jumped and swung over as he repeated the process until he was crawling on the brick of the wall you always saw when you looked out your window. He glanced towards your window, seeing as you still had your curtains open. You normally kept them open to let the sunlight in, but the sun was going to set soon. Peter saw you laying on your bed, your body clothed in some black sweatpants and your big blue Midtown School of Science and Technology sweatshirt. You had the sweatshirt lifted slightly and your hand rested on the section of your stomach that was showing.

Peter jumped over to your building’s wall to get a better look in your window. Was he invading your privacy? Yeah, a little, but he was trying to make sure you were okay. He noticed that you were clutching at your stomach and you wore a pained expression on your face. There were two pill bottles on your nightstand, but the labels were turned away from him so there was nothing he could use from those to help answer his question. Against his better judgment, he tapped at the glass and alerted you of his presence.

When you heard the tapping, you were intrigued to say the least. You were pretty high in this building so it would be fairly difficult to climb up here, but when you saw who it was, it clicked as to how they got up to your window. You pulled your shirt down and furrowed your eyebrows before getting up to open the window.

“Hello?” you asked the masked hero who was in front of you who could probably be doing better things like fighting crime than coming to random windows. If Flash were in your position right now, you knew you’d never hear the end of it.

“Hi, ma’am. I was swinging by and noticed you seemed to be in pain. I wanted to make sure everything was alright,” he stated in a deep voice which threw you off. In the videos on YouTube, his voice seemed a little more high-pitched. Something about him brought you a sense of familiarity and comfort, so you let the change in voice go.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you told the man in red and blue as you rocked back on your heels. Peter looked a little to his right and spotted what looked to be your untouched cell model that has yet to be done. A light chuckle escaped his lips right before Karen told him that his help was needed elsewhere.

“That’s great, but I’ve got to go. Uh, stay in school!” he shouted awkwardly as he shot a web and swung away. You watched him disappear around the corner and shut your window before returning to your bed. You were about to lay there and think about what just happened, but the pain that has been ripping through your lower abdomen for the last twenty-four hours stole your attention as you groaned. After the pain subsided for a moment, you reached over for your laptop to put on Netflix to help distract you and maybe help you get some sleep.

...

You were the type to get actually dressed for school and you would even wear a little makeup, so naturally, when Peter noticed you fresh-faced with leggings and a hoodie on and your hair lazily thrown in a bun, he knew something was wrong. It was not that he didn’t like the look. He thought you looked cute, but it just wasn’t you. At least, it wasn’t you at school. Peter held off asking you if you were okay as much as he did the past two days, but he still had to check. It was not until you left your second to last class of the day to go to your locker that you began to grow very irritated by the constant interrogation of your wellbeing.

“You okay?” Peter asked again when he noticed your slightly widened eyes.

“Yes, Peter. I am okay. There is absolutely nothing for you to worry about so can we drop it please?” you muttered while you rummaged through your bag looking for one thing.

“Yeah, ummm… oh, do you want to come over to my place after school? We can work on our paper or do our trig homework,” he told you while you huffed, pushing the random things in your bag around to try to find the thing that you so desperately needed in this moment.

“I’d love to Pete, but I’ll probably just go home. I don’t feel too good,” you stated as you stood up and pushed the books in your locker to the side in search of the small bag you kept back there for emergencies like this.

“Are you sick?” That damn worried tone checking on you again sparked more aggravation, causing you to snap.

“No, Peter. I am on my period and there is blood dripping out of me as we speak, so if you don’t mind, I am going to go to the bathroom and change this,” you informed him while showing him the tampon you just pulled out of the bag and slamming your locker door shut before heading to the restroom.

Peter stood there for a second thinking how he could be so stupid. He should have known. You were never so moody or snappy before. You normally were never so tired and were much more chipper in the mornings. He also felt like an idiot for prying so hard, but he only did it because he cared. He felt like shit, so he ran to the vending machine. He tapped his foot impatiently against the floor as he watched the candy bar fall from its spot and land in the box below.

After quickly grabbing that, he dashed back to wait outside the restroom for you. Your eyes met his briefly when you opened the door before you rolled them and walked the other direction. You were embarrassed and agitated and seeing him only reminded you of it, so you tried to speed ahead to get to the last class of the day.

“Y/n, wait!” Peter called ahead while he grabbed your arm to slow you down.

“What, Peter?” you spat as you stopped walking and turned to face him.

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry and get on your nerves. I just felt like something was wrong, so I wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m sorry if that made you feel angry or upset. I just care about you,” he apologized quickly as his brown eyes flickered between your own quickly, looking for a hint of forgiveness. You let out a sigh before speaking.

“It’s okay, I guess. Just next time leave me alone a little,” you chuckled lightly which brought a big smile to Peter’s face.

“You got it. Once a month, it will be like I don’t even exist,” he nervously laughed along with you as you both began to walk again to the class that kindled your friendship.

“I want you to still exist Parker, just not asking if I am okay every other minute.”

“I can do that,” he told you before stuffing his hands in his pockets until he felt something in his pocket.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I got you this. I heard that chocolate helps, or at least that’s how it is in movies and tv shows and stuff,” he rambled while he handed you your favorite chocolate bar.

“Aw, thanks Peter. That is really sweet of you,” you complimented, a slight blush dusting over his cheeks. His blush grew when you leaned over to press your lips to his cheek as another way to thank him.

“Uh, so Ned and I are having a Star Wars marathon tomorrow if you want to- oh wait, you probably won’t feel up to it. Forget I said anything,” he stumbled through the sentence as he looked at his feet.

“It’s okay, Peter. Thanks for thinking of me and I’ll let you know tomorrow if I feel like going,” you told the blushing boy as you both walked into the classroom and took your seats next to each other.

“Okay, that sounds good,” Peter nodded while speaking before he pulled out his notebook and you followed suit. You both took notes for your class while communicating with each other by writing notes to each other in the margins of your paper and smiling like idiots at the dumb jokes you’d both crack. It was the most peaceful hour or so you had in the last two days which proved that when Peter was not continuously asking you if you were okay, he was the only one who could distract you from your cramping stomach and for that, you were thankful for the caring idiot that sat next to you.

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[weasleyswizardpleases]

Playing Nurse (4/4)

Summary: Fred Weasley keeps showing up in Hogwarts’ infirmary,  where you apprentice when you’re not in class, but he quickly becomes more than just a patient to you.

Warnings/notes: Blood, dental injury, bruising, broken bones. Language, kissing, some nudity, coming out. Not super graphic but it takes place in the school infirmary so people’s injuries and illnesses are described. Trans masc!Fred x fem!reader. Last chapter! Thanks for loving this one as much as I do you guys :)

Tags: @lucymfer @accioweaslcy @manuosorioh 

4. We Must Stop Meeting Like This

A week goes by before you see Fred again. You’ve pretty much given up on him liking you after your somewhat unexpected last encounter. But, like clockwork, he’s in the infirmary again over the weekend. 

When you arrive for your shift, the infirmary is already bustling. Pomfrey is doing intake on a group of students while a stern but somewhat worried looking McGonagall stands by. You take in the scene: Ron Weasley is there with a busted lip, Malfoy’s a few feet away, holding his head and looking dazed, Crabbe and Goyle by his side in disheveled states. You’re unsurprised to see an incredibly peeved Katie Bell, her stockings ripped, glaring at the Slytherins. She’s limping heavily.

“What happened here? How can I help?”

“There was… a fight,” McGonagall says tiredly. 

“Go ahead and examine Ron, should be a quick episkey, and then move on to Mr. Crabbe, I think it’ll be much the same but I haven’t had a proper look yet,” instructs Madam Pomfrey.

You take Ron to an exam table and give him a quick once over while asking him what happened. He explains that Fred and George weren’t having it and things escalated quickly.

“Turned into an all out brawl before anyone could get a word in edgewise. Percy was watching and ran to snitch, well, thank god he did, because they’re in really bad shape,” he says.

“Who? The Slytherins?” you say, using an episkey charm on his lip and a few stray scratches across his arms, probably from being thrown to the ground in the scuffle.

“Fred, especially, and Malfoy, and…” Ron continues, but you’re no longer listening. You look around and notice that the twins are unaccounted for. You’re finishing up on Ron when George and Filch come in carrying a stretcher with Fred on it. He seems barely conscious. You walk alongside them, asking all the questions you know to ask. This one is yours- Pomfrey is busy with Malfoy, who you suspect has a concussion, and will probably need to look after Katie’s ankle next.

George tells you that Malfoy hit Fred with a stunning spell, but after he fell, they kept kicking at him. You elect not to revive Fred fully yet, first casting a pain relief spell. You examine his clothed torso, feeling along his ribs, and notice that one of the bones feels out of place. You frown and continue lightly feeling along the area, and notice that he seems to be wearing a tight, thick undershirt.

“He’s got a broken rib. We’ll have to remove any garments that might constrict the area to set the bone properly. Could I ask you two to step out for a moment?” you ask, gesturing to the curtain out of the cubicle. Filch departs, but before George leaves he pauses.

“Don’t tell anyone, ok? It would break his heart,” he says seriously before stepping out.

You have little time to wonder what he means. You cut open Fred’s tee shirt and, as you suspected upon palpating his torso, find an undergarment laid tight across his chest. Like a sports bra, maybe, but why- in a flash, you understand the secret Fred was talking about the other day, and what George was saying to keep to yourself just now. It’s a binder. Of course. 

You waste no time reflecting and slice his binder cleanly down the middle to remove pressure from the area. You set about doing a complex set of spells- first checking for internal bleeding, then setting the broken bone back in place, then casting a bandaging spell so he’s not tempted to move about before it’s fully set.

“Rennervate!” you say, flicking your wand in Fred’s direction. He comes to, looking around in confusion, his eyes finally landing on you.

“How do you feel?” you ask him.

“Utter shit,” he says. “What happened, exactly?”

“Stunning spell from Malfoy or one of his goons, George said. You wound up with a broken rib from getting kicked while you were out, but the scan didn’t show anything else too terrible. Just a few bruises.”

“Those cheating bastards. I’d love to spit in their faces right now,” he says, moaning as he tries to sit up.

“Just lay down,” you say, resting your hand gently on his shoulder. “It should be pretty much healed by tomorrow morning, but it’s going to be painful until then. If you want, I can ask Pomfrey to give you something to help you sleep while I’m out fetching you a new shirt,” you offer. You pulled the blanket up to cover his chest when you finished working on his ribs, but he’s still shirtless underneath. You watch as he realizes you must have seen his chest while you were patching him up. He grimaces uncomfortably.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“I’d like that shirt, please,” he says, pursing his lips. You dash off to one of the cabinets to fetch an extra set of clothes and an extra blanket, since you know he’ll be staying the night.

“Here,” you say, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” You excuse yourself to let him change, and touch bases with Madam Pomfrey. McGonagall has taken Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle, who are all fully healed, back to her office. Katie Bell is sitting on an exam table, still looking quite angry with her swollen leg propped up high. George is lurking worriedly near the door. You make your way over to him.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “Fred is going to be perfectly fine by tomorrow. Madam Pomfrey will have a look at him to make sure there’s nothing I missed, since it was a serious injury, but his rib is all patched up.” He sighs in relief.

“And don’t worry, I won’t say anything,” you add discreetly, smiling knowingly at him. He relaxes fully and nods in return. “Good luck with McGonagall. She did not look happy.”

“Thanks, Y/N. Take good care of him,” he says, nodding towards his brother’s bed before leaving to accept his punishment.

You return to Fred’s bedside to find him looking quite sheepish.

“Feeling okay?” you ask softly. 

“Sure. Bit embarrassed. I wasn’t hoping you’d find out like this, you know.”

“Your big secret is that you’re trans? Freddie, who in the world would care about that?”

“I dunno, some people.”

“Uh, yeah, bigots,” you say, laughing. “I certainly don’t care. I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“Thanks to you. Wanna sit?” he asks sweetly. You can’t say no, so you agree to wait with him at least until Pomfrey comes in to look him over.

“So, did you ever talk to that girl?” you ask, trying to make small talk after all the excitement. He looks at you like you’re a nutcase. 

“Y/N, are you thick?” he laughs hard, causing him to wince and hold his torso. He gasps in pain, but grins through it. “Honestly, who did you think I was interested in?” he asks, biting back laughter. You look at him, your cheeks hot. What is he getting at?

“How should I know? I hardly see you, outside of keeping you alive in here,” you say defensively.

“Wow, I thought for sure you knew. I was so embarrassed when you didn’t say anything, I’ve been avoiding you for weeks!” 

“What? Why?” you ask, but it quickly dawns on you what you may’ve been missing. “Wait… what?!” you say, your hand flying to your mouth.

“Yep, you got it.”

“You like me?”

“Yes, you idiot!”

“Come here,” you say. You lean down and plant a chaste kiss on his cheek, but he pulls you in gently for a real kiss, a long one. You feel so much tension you didn’t even know you were holding in leave your body, and stand back up, laughing big, just as Madam Pomfrey parts the curtain.

“Well, everyone seems in good spirits in here,” she says. You both nod awkwardly.

“Y/N has been taking such good care of me I hardly knew I was hurt,” Fred says cheerfully. Pomfrey gives him a quick once over, agrees with your diagnoses and treatment, and leaves you two alone once again. 

“You know, we have got to stop meeting like this,” Fred says, looking up at you. “Not that you don’t look lovely in your apron.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“How about a date?”

“I certainly wouldn’t object to a nice evening with a ruggedly handsome young man,” you say, giggling gleefully. He flashes a big smile, showing off his chipped tooth.

“Well, it’s a deal. You get me up and going again and I treat you to dinner,” he says.

“Deal! I've got to go, though,” you say, planting a sneaky kiss on him before you leave, “I am at work, after all.” You practically float out the door, proud of your work in more ways than one. Fred Weasley. Yours at last. 

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Rewind Chapter 11 - Epilogue

“Will I remember any of this?”

Ford paused, hands stilling on his workbench as he considered the question. “…I don’t know.”

Stan swung his legs idly from where he was perched on another table in Ford’s lab, watching the nerd fiddle with his vials. One of them had a glimmering rainbow liquid in it that kinda looked like unicorn blood. “You said when I was an adult we were fighting. Do you think we’re just gonna keep fighting?”

“We’ll always be fighting a little bit.” Ford hedged.

“No, I mean real fighting. Not just arguments and stuff.”

“Then… no, not if I have any say in it.”

:readmore:

“Good.” Stan folded his arms. “Adult me kinda sounds like a jerk, so you gotta tell him I said to be nice. And you’ve been kind of a jerk too, so you also have to be nice.”

“I doubt a grown-up you will follow the instructions of a baby.”

“Hey! I’m not a baby!” Stan found a crumpled piece of paper nearby and lobbed it at Ford’s head. He missed, but it was the thought that counted. Ford let out a huff.

“Don’t throw things when I’m working with chemicals, Stanley. Unless you want me to spill it on myself and also turn into a baby. Then who would cure you?”

“Not a baby!”

Stan didn’t throw anything else, though. Only because there was nothing nearby to throw.

“I honestly don’t know how much you’ll remember.” Ford admitted after a while, twirling a test tube to mix its contents. It looked pretty boring for what was basically a magic potion, just clear and grey. It wasn’t even bubbling. “You might completely forget everything that happened when you were de-aged. In which case, I don’t know how I’ll explain everything.”

“Just start with the story of how I defeated an evil dream demon. It’s the coolest part.”

“It’s the most exciting part of the story,” Ford allowed, “But not the best place to start.”

“It’s the hook! That’s the best part of a story, you know.”

Ford lifted the boring test tube up to inspect it in the light. When Stan looked closer, it didn’t seem as clear – as he watched it was slowly getting cloudier, more silver than grey. He vaguely remembered something about that from science class – did that mean there was a chemical reaction? Or a physical reaction? He could never remember the difference between them.

Ford stared pensively at the vial, and after a few moments Stan cleared his throat. “Is that it?”

“Yes.” Ford started to turn to him and then hesitated again. “You just have to drink this to go back to your real age. I… hm. Are you ready? Do you want to have something to eat first? Or maybe go to bed and have it in the morning?”

Stan blinked. “It’s gonna make me older again, right? Why wait?”

“Well, I don’t know.” When Stan made grabby hands Ford relented and handed over the vial. It was cold to the touch, like it had just come from the fridge. Stan stared at the thick, silvery liquid and wondered what it would taste like. “When you touched water from the spring of youth you passed out for several hours. The same thing could happen now, so we should move you somewhere comfortable before you drink-”

Stan tipped the vial and swallowed its contents in one big gulp. Ford shrieked.

“Stanley! Why would you do that?”

It tasted kinda like dirty, metallic oranges and Stan screwed up his face. “Ew! Couldn’t you at least make it taste nice?”

Ford retorted something, but the sounds were a bit wobbly in his ears. Stan blinked hard to try and make his vision make sense. It was just a little bit off, fuzzy in the corners of his vision.

“…getting dizzy?” Ford’s voice swam through the air, thick and swampy, like Stan was breathing treacle. “…lie down…”

And then, quick as blinking, he was on the floor. That was rude, for the world to just flip over like that. Everything was clouds and Stan was very, very sleepy.

Something else was said, but he was too far away to hear it.

 _______________________________________________________________

When consciousness came – and it did come, as much as Stan wished he could sleep forever, dragging him up from the depths of hazy dreams he couldn’t remember – he knew exactly where he was.

There were soft sheets against his back, the faint whistle of wind through the pines outside, the taste of copper on his tongue. The spare bed felt smaller, now, and when his head shifted his stubbly cheek scratched against the pillow. It smelled faintly like dust.

“Stan? Are you waking up?”

Okay, that was Ford’s voice. But, there was still the possibility that this had all been a weird, vivid dream! That’s right, everything from the last couple days had been a dream. There were no gnomes, no dream demons, and in a moment Stan would open his eyes and be back inside the Stanleymobile.

He cracked his eyes open, blinking at the assault of light, and saw his brother’s face looking back at him.

…shit.

“Stan? Are you alright?” Ford was tapping his cheek, looking for a reaction. Stan grumbled and brushed him away.

“I’m fine. Hands off the merchandise.” His voice was rough with sleep, and Stan was almost surprised by how deep and gravelly it was compared to the childish squeaking he’d been doing lately.

Ford made a face, somewhere between worried and amused – an expression that Stan was familiar with from the last couple days. Dammit. He just had to remember all that. Ugh, and now Ford would want to talk and get all mushy.

“I’m fine.” Stan repeated, with nothing else to say. He got up on his elbows, and a quick glance around the room confirmed they were in the spare room he’d been sleeping in the last couple days. Still, he asked. “Where are we?”

“How much do you remember?” Ford asked urgently, making Stan blink. “Since you arrived here, I mean.”

“Uh… nothing.” He lied, like a liar. Ford’s face fell.

“…oh.”

Yeah, there was no way he could tell the truth here. He would die of embarrassment if he had to admit he remembered acting like a child and being all…sappy. Ford would look at him all weird and they would have to talk and that was just… ugh.

“Yep! I just remember getting here and then – poof! Nothing.” Stan went for a carefree laugh. “Man, did I get hit on the head with a coconut or something?”

Ford lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, looking crestfallen. “No, not quite. Do you – remember the argument we had?”

Nope, nope, feelings alert. Stan did not want to delve into that conversation.

“What argument? Probably about you being a nerd, huh? Jeez, am I hungry, you got any food in this joint?”

“Wha-”

Stan was already throwing the covers off (thank god he was wearing a nightrobe underneath, he didn’t think his pride could survive another hit). Ford spluttered as he got to his feet.

“Will you slow down?”

 ______________________________________________________________

After a couple tests which were obviously unnecessary (but Ford insist on anyway, the nerd) Stan was finally free to pull on some actual clothes and follow Ford to the kitchen. He hadn’t been lying earlier, hunger really was gnawing in his stomach, and he made a beeline for the fridge.

“-and so you were reverted back into a child,” Ford continued. The guy had absolutely no showmanship. Way to lose an audience, Stan muttered to himself as he grabbed the fridge door. He’d told him to start with the demon bit, but noooo. “That was a couple days ago. There have been some – well, it’s been eventful. I doubt you’ll believe me if I told you.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“By the way, my friend is on his way.” Ford added. Stan ducked down to inspect the fridge’s contents – at least it was better stocked than when he first arrived. He hummed in acknowledgement. “You – well, I suppose you won’t remember him. You’ll like him though. You did.”

“Is he a nerd liked you?”

Ford snorted.

Stan grabbed a box of leftover pasta and then went in search of a fork. “Well, let’s hope this Fiddleford guy can tell stories better than you, ya almost put me to sleep with the way you tell it.”

When he turned around, Ford was staring at him.

It took a moment for him to realize his mistake – by the time Stan opened his mouth to spew out some bullshit excuse, Ford was pointing an accusing finger at him.

“I didn’t tell you his name!”

“Yes you did!” Stan spluttered. “I mean, how else would I know his name unless you told me, huh? You ever think about that?”

Ford narrowed his eyes. “Stanley.”

“Stanford.” He parroted right back. The staring match continued for a few moments before Ford threw up his hands.

“Unbelievable! You’re such a liar.”

Stan took a large bite of pasta. Because he was hungry, not because he didn’t want to answer. Ford glared at him.

“I should have known you’d try to wriggle your way out of this. ‘I don’t remember’ my ass. What, were you just going to leave and pretend none of this ever happened?”

Stan shoveled more pasta into his mouth.

“Don’t think you can avoid talking with me. We are having this conversation whether you like it or not.”

‘No, we’re really not’ is what Stan meant to say. Unfortunately, the moment he took a breath to speak he started choking. Ford scowled and thumped him on the back as he coughed, getting bits of pasta all over the kitchen floor.

“Unbelievable.” The nerd said again.

 Well, so much for that.

  _______________________________________________________________

Stan squirmed under his brother’s glare – the whole ‘pacing and towering over him while Stan sat on the couch like a scolded child’ schtick was uncannily similar to what their mother would do when they earned her ire.

“So.” Ford began. “You remember childhood.”

“Yep.” Stan grumbled.

“Your adult life?”

“Mm hm.”

“The last couple days here and everything that occurred while you were reverted?”

“Mm.”

Ford stopped his pacing to turn to him. “Then why on earth did you try to pretend you didn’t? We even made up!”

Stan buried his face in his hands to try and hide its burning. “I don’t know! I knew you’d try and get all…” He shuddered. “Mushy. Feeling-y.”

Stan could just feel the flat look his brother was giving him.

“Okay, fine, look. You forgave me for breaking your project, I forgave you for being a jerk. We’re good. Now, I’m just gonna head home-”

“You’re homeless.”

“You don’t know that!” Stan looked up from behind his hands to see Ford folding his arms. “I could have a, a house, a mansion even!”

“You have a mullet.”

…okay, Ford had him there. Stan scowled. “What’s the plan then, smart guy?”

Ford’s eyes gleamed, and he immediately regretted asking.

“I’m glad you asked, Stanley! I’ve had plenty of time to think over these last couple days. First of all, the Duskertons are looking for someone to help around their store, and no one in Gravity Falls cares much about credentials – I’m pretty sure the man who works at the post office is just a bunch of gnomes in a trench coat ­– so your lack if identification shouldn’t be a problem if you’re looking for a job. There’s also Boyish Dan, his family owns a logging company and I’m sure you could get a place there if you wanted. You’re welcome to stay in my house for as long as you need – I’m sure there are some places in town if you want to rent instead, though. If you choose to stay I might ask for your help in some of my research, since Fiddleford has decided to take a break from studying Gravity Falls, which I don’t blame him for.”

Stan blinked, but Ford wasn’t finished, ticking things off on his fingers as he went.

“I’ll also need to keep you under observation for a while to ensure that there are no side effects from the fountain of youth water, so I’ll ask you to stay around for at least a couple days. If you decide to leave Gravity Falls after that period, you’ll need to give me your phone number so we can keep contact. Oh, scratch that, I’ll make a new one – I’m sure I can work up a design that isn’t as flimsy as the current models going around.”

“Uh-”

Stan was saved from having to answer (answer? There wasn’t much of a question but Ford was looking at him expectantly and he didn’t know what he was supposed to say) by a light knock on the door. Ford perked up and rushed to answer it.

“Am I intruding?” Fiddleford’s hesitant voice rang out. Ford shook his head and stood aside to usher the smaller man inside.

“Not at all, come in. It’s good to see you.”

Fiddleford stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on Stan on the couch.

Ugh, he was already getting a headache. Now came the judgement. Stan looked like a mess, he knew he did – unshaven, with bags under his bloodshot eyes and ragged hair and old scars crisscrossing his arms. Some small, childish part of him wanted to jump up and hug the guy. Gross. Instead he shoved down the nervousness, stood, and gave him a lazy two-fingered salute.

“…Stanley?” Fiddleford tilted his head, eyes scanning him. Stanley shrugged uncomfortably. It was weird, towering over the small guy like this.

“Hey.”

“Well, you grew up big. The spittin’ image of yer brother.” Fiddleford gave a little smile and stuck out his hand. “Pleasure meetin’ ya, officially this time.”

“Eh, you too.” Stan shook the offered hand. It was small, frail, but gripped his firmly.

“So are you stickin’ around?”

Stan hesitated. He glanced from Fiddleford’s earnest face, to his own rough hand, to Ford’s careful expression – the look of someone trying hard not to look like they were listening.

“…yeah. Yeah, I think I’m gonna stick around.”

[swamplatibule]

@sugarcoatedsadism

i mean you can’t just say that and expect me to not

this is really badly written but oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Basil De Luca

21 years old - genderfluid [all pronouns] - lesbian

Basil’s whole thing is that amidst everything happening in Gestalt, they‘re just kinda there, and they don’t seem to actually give two shits about anything. Roommate mysteriously goes missing? Well shit, alright. Friend that she might be in love with is the Queen of Wands and now a wanted fugitive? Cool, fuck the Knights. Part of the last generation with no possibility of making a mark on the world? Okay, and? He just rolls with everything, living life in the moment.

Personality Traits: Sarcastic. Basil‘s sense of humor relies on their deadpan attitude and sharp wit. It‘s almost as if he sees life as a joke, and a good one at that. Everything is funny to them, unless you actually manage to offend them - then you’re going to be the butt of every joke they make. Spiteful. Spite is really the only reason she‘s still alive. They’re the kind of person to intentionally do the opposite of what they’re told just for fun. It’s even worse if xe doesn’t respect you. Indifferent. He doesn’t seem at all concerned with politics or famous families or laws or anything like that. They think that shit is stupid. Everyone is going to die anyway, why worry? She also doesn’t care what people think of her - if anything, she finds it funny when people hate her. Chill. It’s really hard to make Basil mad or upset, because they just roll with everything. Nothing seems to faze him. You could set off fireworks right outside the window to his room and he’d be like “*sips monster* yep same shit as always”.

Physical Traits: Height: 6’0 Weight: 163 Ethnicity: Caucasian Body Type: Very muscular and athletic and also really physically intimidating. Eyes: A very vibrant dark green color Hair: Straight and coarse. Naturally light brown, but they keep it dyed a really dusty looking blue. It’s styled like an extra messy wolf cut, but it‘s usually in a ponytail to keep it out of their face. Skin: Pretty well-tanned. He spends a lot of time outside. Voice: Her voice’s pitch is pretty low, with a good bit of gravel to it and a vaguely Italian accent. It’s a very nice voice. Very soothing to listen to. Scars: Really just their top surgery scars, though they often have cuts and bruises on their face. Other: His nose is just slightly crooked from being broken one too many times. Clothing style: Really just a tank top and sweatpants. They don’t put effort into outfits.

History: They were born in Italy just a year before Awakening Night. Both of her parents got, yknow, obliterated, so she lived in an orphanage for most of her childhood. At 16, he just sort of… left. Saved up money and went to Berlin, not for any particular reason - xe just wanted to. They started at Vermillion, just because there were dorms on campus and they needed somewhere to stay. His roommate, weird dude named Cleo, was always obsessed with some weird science thing he didn’t quite understand. The two mainly left each other alone, unless Basil was telling him off for being way too loud while she was trying to sleep. Anyway. One night, Cleo just… vanished. Gone. Nobody knew where he was. A few people blamed Basil for it, but he didn’t know what happened either. Still, nobody wanted to be their new roommate, and they were fine with that. At least it meant quiet, and nobody to worry about when she snuck out at night. See, Basil had found this weird underground fight club type thing, and as any normal person would do, joined. So every few nights, they sneak out through the window, go fight someone, and then come back with either a few bruises or covered in blood. Depends on how the fight goes.

Funky Other Stuff:

She‘s an extremely good liar, because she’s able to think up complete bullshit in seconds and say it so bluntly and confidently that most people are just like “oh okay cool” and don’t realize she was making it up until… well, never.

They seem like they’d listen to really loud heavy music, right? Wrong. Basil actually has a surprising obsession with 50s music!

He has no regard for his personal health whatsoever, and throws himself right into the thick of things without thinking about it.

Ze seems like ze doesn’t care about anything - but ze does. Ze just bottles up strong emotions and then takes them out in zer illegal fight club thing. It’s like an outlet for zer. (and also zer main source of income, since people make bets on the fights.)

She doesn’t actually have any “formal” combat training. No fancy martial arts or anything - she just knows how to punch hard and take a hit.

He‘s actually quite an artist, and he does a lot of sketching of the people he knows.

Their nickname for Katrin is “Beans”, just because she’s so small.

Fey has an addiction to most energy drinks, mainly monsters. They drink two or three of those fuckers a day.

Her dorm is a complete mess. She knows where everything is, but for other people, they can barely navigate it.

They’re actually currently looking for Katrin - they don’t care that she’s the Queen of Wands. They just want to make sure their friend is safe and protect her if she needs it.

Relationships with Other Gestalt Dudes:

(I left out the ones they wouldn’t know so that’s why some are missing)

Katrin: When Cleo went missing, Wands took interest in his theories. Katrin had to befriend Basil to get into their dorm and take a look at Cleo’s work. Turns out it was a waste of time - Cleo wasn’t a genius, he was just batshit crazy. Still, Katrin and Basil stayed friends. In fact, Basil really considers her their best friend - because she’s the only one they have. They’ve actually asked her a few times to come watch them fight, something they won’t ask anyone else. Basil’s not sure if she‘s in love with Katrin, but she’d never say anything about it. After all, doesn’t she have a boyfriend or something? Once he found out she was the Queen of Wands… he didn’t care. She’s still his friend. He’d offer to let her stay in his dorm - it’s not like anyone visits him anyway - if he knew how to get the message to her.

Basil: Yo, Beans, I have an idea. I’ll play the game, but you wear the headset and talk through it. Katrin: …What would the point of that be? Basil: There is nothing funnier than three grown men who think they’re getting their asses kicked by a small girl, trust me.

Lorelei: Their dorms are pretty close together, and Lorelei’s caught them sneaking back in more times they can count. Basil’s discovered that if he just makes up some weird-ass bullshit about himself, she’ll generally be satisfied with that answer - which leads to her having a loooong list of theories about him that just get wilder and wilder. He thinks it’s funny, so rather than correcting her, he’s just gonna run the joke into the ground.

Lorelei: Where were you? And what the hell happened to your face? Basil: Oh, uh- I’m in a Mothman cult that meets on Saturdays. Our human sacrifice tried to escape. Lorelei:……Your WHAT Basil: Yeah, but don’t worry, he didn’t get away. We ate him. With seasonings, we’re not animals. G’night.

Remzi: They’re sort of frenemies. Remzi saw them in the gym and went “AHA A FELLOW ALPHA” or whatever and started hanging around them - until he realized that they are not at all like that. But he’s NOT A FUCKIN QUITTER 😤 so he’s trying to kinda mold them to be like him because he sees it as “ignored potential”, but he gets easily annoyed with them because they’re not really trying and that gets under his skin. Basil, on the other hand, sees him as more of an extremely aggressive and annoying chihuahua that just decided to be around them, and they‘ve kinda just given up on any possibility of him leaving them alone. Besides, he’s not half bad of a gym partner if they blast their music loud enough to drown him out.

Remzi: BE THE LION! ROAR! Basil: …rawr. Remzi:

Adamska: These two? They do not like each other. Adamska’s got his whole good-little-Christian-boy thing, which Basil thought was kinda funny until he said he wouldn‘t spar with xem because xey were a girl. (Not as in he was being an ass, he just assumed xey were a girl because xey still had boobs at the time) Basil, being a) not a girl and b) a firm believer in Equal Rights Equal Fights was very offended. Xey can’t go five minutes in the same room as him without mocking him somehow. He’s one of the few people xey aren’t just ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ about - which would be quite an achievement if it didn’t make xem super mean to him.

Basil: OH MY GOD Vetrov is that your ankle?? That is so scandalous you should be ashamed what a temptress Adamska: *having an existential crisis*

Einhardt: They barely interact, but they have this sort of mutual respect since they both just. Do not want to be around people. Any conversation between them is very stiff and dry and kinda awkward, but it works for them.

Mari: He’s… indifferent. As long as her photographing doesn’t invade his privacy, he’s chill with it. Besides, some of her pictures aren’t half bad. He just has to hide his whole underground fight club thing from her because she would have a field day with it. He generally uses the same strategy on her that he does for Lorelei, just way watered down.

Mari: Holy shit what happened to your face? Did you get beat up? By who? Basil: I was on a walk and I fell. Mari: Oh. That’s… That’s actually really boring. Basil: …Thanks.

Celeste: She doesn’t mind Celeste. She’s just really loud for their taste. They don’t talk at all unless Basil’s chatting with Meine.

Meine: They have to talk every now and then since Basil has to pay rent to her. It’s pretty casual, although Basil does think it’s funny to joke-flirt with her (and also wouldn’t say no if she asked them out). She doesn’t care much for them - to her, they just seem like all muscle and no brains, and they aren’t at all refined, so it‘s a no from her.

Basil: You look good tonight, Meine. Very pretty. You want to go out? Meine: Keep dreaming, De Luca.

Axel: He’s someone Basil can vibe with. Fey like his photography and frequently compliment his skill, and they’re also both very… like if sandals with socks were people. Yeah. He’s the one who showed fer eating Cheetos with chopsticks and fey went “AHA a kindred spirit.” Fey don’t get his whole obsession with the Queen of Wands, but fey don‘t judge. Aside from Katrin, he’s the only person fey’d consider a friend. They share a single braincell and they game together it’s great.

Basil: Yo, Axel, what’s this? Axel: OH YEAH I blended monster, five hour energy, a Red Bull, and like three packets of this energy powder together. It’s the ultimate energy drink! Basil: Basil: You’re a fucking genius.

Vande: Meh. If he doesn't bother her, she won’t bother him. That’s really it.

Marlon: Same as Vande. They don’t talk.

Demetri: Basil either avoids Demetri just because he’s loud and lowkey annoys him, or he’ll lightly insult him so he’ll get offended and leave.

Demetri: You don’t know who I am? Do you live under a rock? Basil: Those two shades of green don’t go together. Demetri: whAT

Avery: Much like Adamska, they mock him relentlessly. For everything. They only have two friends and he’s hurt both of them, of course they hate him.

Basil: *looking around wildly* Avery: What are you looking for? Basil: Where I asked for your opinion, shitheel.