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archipithecus · 8 months

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Friends at the Table is a podcast focused on critical worldbuilding, smart characterization, fun interaction between good friends, and asking "what if X was Y? what if W could do Z?"

anyways here's a non-comprehensive selection of some times FatT asked good hypotheticals

(spoilers for Autumn in Heiron, Marielda, Winter in Heiron, COUNTER/Weight, Twilight Mirage, Sangfielle, and some Bluff City i think) (i know Spring, Partizan, and Palisade must also have good "what if X was Y?" but i'm still catching up) (this got way long so i'm putting it behind a readmore) (shoutout to Search at the Table at https://curiosity.cat-girl.gay/ for letting me do this) (also to Transcripts at the Table for writing this all down in the first place)

KEITH: What if I was a snow...hawk… ART: What if you're like, a Dr. Seuss animal? KEITH: Yeah! What if I was a star-bellied sneetch?

KEITH: (laughing) What if the bird was a can opener!

AUSTIN (as Zaktrak): It's like, what if a, what if a factory or train or a windmill could read a book?

AUSTIN (CONT.): And then he, he looks up, he actually has like a very… his build is kind of like, angular and… not thin in terms of like, weak? But he has a sort of… androgynous character about him, in terms of his like, what you would think of as like his body structure. And… very beautiful blue eyes. He’s sort of like, what if David Bowie was super black.

AUSTIN: And that's kind of like, the picture you get of her, is like, What if Fero was like, 30% less hyperactive? Still way more hyperactive than everybody else in-- the world? (laughter) but like, just a little more in tune, with the world.

AUSTIN: What if fire was matte?

ART: What if a—what if a 90s after school special needed some graffiti

AUSTIN: Yeah. He asks you, um... watching what unfolds, and there's, there's, it's--and this is the fuckin' nerdiest thing I'm ever gonna say; it's like what if A-ha's Take On Me was an AMV? Was an anime music video?

AUSTIN: Ali’s character, how did she describe her character, “what if Han Solo used to be Beyonce?”

AUSTIN: It’s like, what if the American government was just another American company?

AUSTIN: It’s like what if holograms did gifs, basically?

ART: You how like Han Solo’s always talking to the Millenium Falcon, but what if the Millenium Falcon-- AUSTIN: Could talk back? ART: Had a chance of, yeah, of deciding he was angry.

SYLVIA: For example. Like just p - yeah, what if they have psychic assassins there. Oh! What if this planet’s an alien? What if this planet is a psychic assassin? Which is a great sentence I just said.

AUSTIN: Yeah, I should note that this is also like "What if the Super Bowl was attended by high fashion models?", right?

AUSTIN: We don’t get a lot of elderly non-binary people. And so Saint Auger is like, what if someone you knew from Portland was 82?

AUSTIN: It’s almost like, what if a crown could be a dunce cap?

AUSTIN: It's like- what if there was a really enterprising twelve year old, who like, [laughs] made a physiology- uh, person- a physiology like, model, but with dirt and rocks and sticks. Also there's no face, the face is also just one of this solid black rock plates.

AUSTIN: And again, there’s just light streaming in through—I think this room is mostly, like, does not have a huge window, but it does have little eyelet windows at the top of the, towards the ceiling, that run horizontally along the room, and just like, bright—it’s almost like, what if colour could be shadow? Do you know what I mean? Like, what if instead of it being that a shadow crosses your face, it is this prismatic glow that moves across the group of you as this thing crawls around this space station.

AUSTIN: It’s like white and blue, there are stars, it- you know, I think that the- it’s, it looks like the way you might imagine like, what if the UN had spaceships?

AUSTIN: What if you mixed your- your selfhood, with the notion of wings. Or the notion of flight. Not just flying. That’s where we’re going.

AUSTIN: This giant battleship that’s like ‘what if a millipede instead of legs had guns and what if it was all around it’?

AUSTIN: This thing is like the size of like a major city. This thing is like, what if Manhattan was a battleship. And instead of buildings it had guns. Except now they’re made of weird black glass.

AUSTIN: The first time he showed up I described him as what if Canderous Ordo decided to have a robot body one day? And slowly began to replace it.

AUSTIN: There’s a little— Yes, it’s like what if a cow— what if Christian Slater was playing a cowboy from New Jersey, and also was Canderous Ordo. And also he eats through his hands.

AUSTIN: There is just this like… I think it’s just metal unfolding across space. Like, at some point Volition just kind of spat out a, a, almost, it looks like a cloud of ink but instead of ink, it’s metal. And it’s just unfolding indefinitely in space like a huge— like what if Akira, what if at the end of Akira when Tetsuo turns into a weird flesh monster? It was that but various types of metal, just like bubbling all over the place throughout space, and I don’t know how you deal with that! But suddenly in the middle of the Mirage there is just this, this ink splatter, this, this gaseous, you know, spread of metal.

AUSTIN: And it’s like — again, it’s like a pistol — it’s like what if a pistol was also like a curved sword, like almost like a scimitar or something?

JANINE: What if we do a live show, but the only live show we ever do is at Bakucon?

ART: Um, let me tell you, this is a nice coat, you guys. Um, I think it’s sort of like what if… What if a leather duster jacket was like an ephemeral idea.

AUSTIN: It’s like … I think the way I described it was, what if there was a Companion Cube that could have its corners pulled apart and in the middle is a weird glowing sphere?

AUSTIN: He has this dope, like, “What if the Millenium Falcon was a deep V?” Instead of just that little bit at the top, it goes really deep down. Or like, “What if Pacman was really long?” You know what I mean?

AUSTIN: Okay. You find him like, rolled under the bottom of his, uhh, or like on a, it’s not rolled under, he’s on like a little, like cart that has a pneumatic lift, or it’s like, it’s like a, it’s like a robot that walks around. It has like- it’s like a Boston Dynamics- like what if a Boston Dynamics, like four-legged robot was also a thing you laid on top of? Like one of those carts that goes underneath a car, to repair it. You know what I’m talking about?

AUSTIN (as Morning’s Observation): [exhales thoughtfully] Like what if milk was a solid.

AUSTIN: But it still has that ribbony-quality? [chuckles] It still has the sound of fabric rubbing on fabric? But is definitely amplified a great deal, probably? And also, we know it’s sharp, so there’s probably some… sharpness to it? You know… there’s probably, like… what if a ribbon could be a sword you pull out of a sheath?

AUSTIN: And also, Saint Sommer is a big lion man. Saint Sommer is, like… Skein. And is a big… a big… like, a big lion man. Not like Lion-o from Thundercats. Like… what if Scar could… had a big human body? Was, like… What if Scar was cut?

KEITH: And it sort of like, snap! Like, that, it's like… when we were talking about what the sound it makes, I was picturing… what if folding a blanket sounded like sheet metal?

AUSTIN: Yeah, yeah. I don’t know I think it’s like, I think this is very much like, what if the Venom symbiote was made of thread, right?

AUSTIN: So maybe it's like a- like imagine, what if a mop could just mop by itself.

AUSTIN: I won’t talk more about that stuff, but you already saw the big picture of “what if Connecticut was a space ocean,” so, you have at least some context there.

AUSTIN: It’s huge. It’s the size of a continent, right? It’s “What if South America was a big circle?” It’s “What if Europe and Eurasia was a big circle?”, constantly cast on this planet. And, you know, from space it kind of looks—not flat necessarily, right, because it’s a curved planet, it’s a sphere, or spherical, but, you know, it’s flat.

AUSTIN: It’s like what if Texas stood up.

AUSTIN (as Morning’s Observation): “What if cars brought things to you instead of bringing you to things?”

AUSTIN: It’s just like a very bright, colorful—like, what if Steven Universe did the Sailors of the Ark? What if that team did it? It’s very good.

AUSTIN: It’s like what if it’s a can opener that does that. Like a living can opener like. Grrrngaaah! I’m going fucking open holes in things! Grrngaah!

AUSTIN: Imagine that they're almost- in my mind they're like what if a martini shaker was a piston.

AUSTIN: It's like what if you could package a sunset, y'know? Into like a cube

AUSTIN: I can't believe we started this recording by looking at pies [KEITH and DRE laugh] that make me hurt and ended with ‘what if all foods could be jelly juice?’.

AUSTIN: I saw a big buffalo picture and I was like what if that was a person, that looks cool.

ART: But what if some of these skeletons are like, sick of this shit?

AUSTIN: I think I pitched this show as like: what if Ghost in the Shell but-but magic and witches instead of cyborgs and stuff?

JACK: So, out come this nascent organization who we’re calling Shapeknights. Who are -- I think the easiest way to say it is “cowboys for trains?” They are, like -- what if instead of the cowboy riding alongside the train on his horse, he was corralling the train? Or he was trying to understand the train, or was trying to --

ALI: I think Marn, herself is a little bit more like—like what if a capybara was a siamese cat?

KEITH: Yeah. So, I wholeheartedly recommend this movie, but if not, if you don't know what I'm talking about with the goggles, at least look at that. ‘Cause it's a good image. It's sort of like, what if you had a jeweler's loupe that had a jeweler's loupe that had a jeweler's loupe?

ART: It’s like, what if the antagonist won the Mummy movie right, this is what happens-

KEITH: What if instead of one, big, beautiful hat I have two small, beautiful hats?

KEITH: Like what if they made headphones just for being cool at a party?

KEITH: What if you make pizza by opening the box? That it was an empty box until you opened it.

AUSTIN: What if insects were made of teeth?

JACK: She’s the fuckin’ person of the train. She’s like what if a train could output a person.

KEITH: What if the train was a nice train?

ART: What if a Madame Tussauds came to life?

AUSTIN: What if fire could be a ghost?

AUSTIN: Looking through this here, sounds like what you wrote here was “What if a dolphin was like a velociraptor?”

AUSTIN: They’re hitched. Yeah, they've been hitched. Three of them have been hitched. And I said horse, but I want you to imagine is what if…what if a shrimp were a horse?

JACK: You sort of just like rise up the slope. It's a bit like what if a train was an escalator.

AUSTIN: What if Beyonce was Poison Ivy?

AUSTIN: All my cards on the table, Millennium Black is like what if Blade stopped being a vampire hunter and started being a casino owner.

AUSTIN: He's sort of like what if Alex Jones wasn't terrible

#friends at the table

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autisticlancemcclain · 8 months

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Keith doesn’t sleep a wink the following night. He quickly packs a bunch of supplies into a pod, and then spends hours staring at the base's scanners, waiting for the castle to pop up. He doesn’t hesitate for even a second when it finally does, barely remembering to check in with Kolivan before speedily manoeuvring out of the base and into the castle’s waiting flight deck.

As promised, the team is gathered there to meet him, clambering over each other to be the first to greet him when he walks out of the pod. It should be flattering, should make a pleased flush redden his skin from his neck to the roots of his hair. It’s everything he’s ever wanted; that kind of love, that kind of joyful acceptance, an excitement to see him.

But he barely even notices. All of his attention is trained on the figure so far away from everyone else he’s practically shroud in shadows, stiff and stone-faced. Lance stands with a duffel clenched tightly in his fists, jacket zipped up to his neck and hood halfway pulled over his hair.

Everything he sees makes him want to fall over. He almost feels nauseous, and he’s not entirely sure why. Lance has his off-days, Keith knows this. There were days when Keith had to help Lance fight his way out of bed, and when he did the same for Keith. Keith has held him as he sobbed himself to pain on the observation deck floor. Keith has watched him get overwhelmed and mean and snappy and then guilty for days afterwards.

But he’s never seen Lance like this. He’s never seen Lance…shrink, collapsing into himself so deeply, keep himself so distant. The closest thing he ever saw was when he came to Keith’s room talking about five lions and six paladins, about a seventh wheel.

I solved that problem, he thinks, increasingly desperate. Lance was backed into a corner so Keith threw himself out of the room to give him space. That was the point, that was the purpose, that is why he has stayed in a stupid grey bunk he hates and nodded blankly to masked people he’s not allowed to familiarise himself with and stubbornly refused to leave a man behind no matter how much trouble he gets in.

He was supposed to have fixed things, and now everything has gotten worse.

“Keith!” Pidge screams the second he emerges from the door, sprinting at him and damn near tackling him to the floor. Despite himself and his dizzying confusion he smiles softly, squeezing her right back.

“Hey, Pigeon,” he says, and she must have really missed him because she doesn’t even deck him for it.

“You need to call us more,” she grumbles at him, and he snorts and asks her how that holoprojector he asked her for is coming along.

Before she can launch into yet another rant about how far from the realm of possibility that is, the rest of the team catches up to her, and this time he really does hit the floor. Luckily he lands sprawled on his brother, who only sighs fondly and flicks him on the forehead.

“We’ve all missed you so much,” he says. “Not the same here without you, squirt.”

Because Keith has misses his brother, he refrains from turning around and throwing hands with him right in the hangar, because why would he call Keith that he’s a grown ass man, basically, not six, Shiro what the fuck. The team teases him anyway because they are the worst, but Keith rolls his eyes and takes it. Between Hunk’s bawling and Pidge’s snark and Allura’s hand gripped in his, Keith can almost pretend like he’s just back from a quick and risky errand, that everything is normal, that his family is just excited to see him and they’re gonna head off for dinner together in a few. The familiar foreignness of it all is almost settled around him like a heavy blanket.

Almost.

“I believe we have an exchange to get on with,” drawls a voice so pretentious it makes Keith recoil even before the cruelty of his words kick in.

Lotor stands in the middle of the room like he’s centre fucking stage, hip cocked, inspecting his nails, casual and unbothered. A quick glance to the side confirms that Lance’s jaw has tightened at the comment, posture tensed further. Keith looks back to Lotor and wishes with his whole heart that he had laser eyes via Clark Kent so he could fucking obliterate him. He settles for intensely praying for his downfall to the universe, which isn’t enough but will have to be until Keith can sacrifice him for the greatest good or something.

An exchange. Like Lance is a fuckin’...low rate commodity, or something.

Keith is honestly more disturbed by the fact that no one else seems to be terribly bothered by the comment. He wonders if he’s being too sensitive, if he’s reading into things, if his own hatred for Prince L’Oreal is clouding what could be a similar relationship to what Keith and Lance have, with all the insults and competitions.

The actual thought of that makes him physically gag.

No, that’s not it. Keith is not mistaking the pain that is radiating off of Lance, the way the air itself in the castle feels wrong.

“I’m ready to go if you are, Lance,” Keith calls, as softly as he can manage. Unfortunately it doesn’t manage to go far, and Lance only nods once, tightening the duffel over his shoulder and walking over. His steps are deliberate, at least, no downtrodden shuffling – there’s some stubbornness within him still. It’s better than nothing.

“Aw, no, already?” Hunk complains, sniffling.

Despite the storm raging in Keith’s head, he manages a smile in Hunk’s direction, equally flattered and amused by the affection.

“We’ll be back, man,” Keith promises. “Mission is only supposed to take a few days. Maybe we’ll finish up early and I won’t tell Kolivan, huh, Lance? Spend a couple days here.”

He smiles as brightly as he can manage in Lance’s direction, receiving only a tight-lipped grimace in response, an attempt without the verve to follow through.

“Yeah, sure.”

He gives the pile of teammates a wide berth as he climbs into the pod, disappearing quickly into the back. Keith tries to pretend his words weren’t sullied with bitterness.

It takes longer than he would like to finally bid everyone goodbye and crawl back into the pod, which he feels a little bad about. Both because he doesn’t want to feel like any interaction with his family is at all a burden, even a goodbye, and because he doesn’t want to keep Lance waiting. But he’s in a rough place right now, off-kilter and almost disoriented, so he cuts himself some slack, breathing deeply as he pulls out of the hangar and back into dead space. He puts the tiny but powerful thrusters up as high as they will go, zooming along at top speeds. He stays in the pilot’s chair, hand firmly on the yoke, until the castle is well out of view, until they are surrounded on all sides by endless darkness. Only then does he steel himself to put the pod on autopilot, to breathe deeply and turn around to face the oppressive awkwardness filling up the small space.

“Hey, Lance,” he says quietly, sitting gingerly on the floor in front of his seat. He’s relieved that Lance doesn’t straight up move away like he expected. He’s even more relieved to notice that Lance doesn’t tense up at his mere presence.

He barely acknowledges Keith past a nod of the head, though, which is depressing. Keith wants to ask another question, get more than a nod out of him so desperately it’s actually embarrassing, but he manages to restrain himself. He knows maybe better than anyone else what it feels like to be crowded by questions when you already feel like you’re suffocating. Keith will just have to wait for Lance, however long it takes.

Thankfully, he doesn’t wait very long.

“I didn’t get any details.” Lance’s voice startles Keith, not because he isn’t expecting it – all he’s been doing is waiting for Lance to talk – but because it’s nothing like he expects. His voice is almost normal, not strained hoarse or even bitter like it was earlier. If Keith squeezes his eyes shut and pretends the last several months didn’t happen, he can almost convince himself that he and Lance are sitting at the briefing room table late at night, heads bent together, trying to iron out a plan for their upcoming mission. He wants that back so badly he aches with it, but the ache is familiar enough now that he thinks he can bear it.

“It’s, uh, a quintessence hunt,” Keith explains. “Or, well, kind of. Hopefully. Kolivan gives a lot of details at once and he speaks in this super depressing monotone and I swear to God I do everything I can to pay attention but at some point it just sounds like the teacher in Charlie Brown. So. That’s my bad.”

He has to force air back into his lungs by the end of it and he’s red in the face to boot. That’s maybe the most words he’s ever spoken in one go (hyperbole whatever let him live) and of course he sounds like the biggest dweeb. Why hasn’t becoming a super cool space ninja made him more aloof and mysterious? This isn’t fair. What happened to gay rights.

To his great surprise, his dorky ramble is rewarded by a flash of Lance’s smile, so brief he would have convinced himself he imagined it if he hadn’t spent so much of his life seeking it out. It’s gone faster than it existed, Lance’s expression falling back into something carefully blank, but the fact that it was there at all is the biggest relief.

Lance takes the tablet Keith hands to him, mission file pulled up and ready to go. He squints slightly as he reads it, tilting his head to the side. “We have to go through…wait, Keith, is this right?” He flips the tablet over to Keith, zoomed in on a pair of coordinates. “This is, like, right next to a black hole. RIght right next to, worryingly next to. I don’t like how close this is. This pod is not really built for that, I don’t think.”

Keith doesn’t recognise the coordinates, so he can’t really say, but there’s a fair bit riding on this mission, so he doubts Kolivan has fucked this particular detail up.

“Well, it’s either safe or no longer our problem.”

“I suppose.”

A little disappointed that Keith’s attempt at a joke didn’t do much to lighten Lance’s expression, he lets them lapse into silence, tilting his head back onto the seat and closing his eyes as the pod zooms forwards.

They have a long journey ahead of them.

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#next chapter is the offical crash babes!! drama drama drama!!#vld #voltron #keith #keith kogane #lance #lance mcclain #klance #pre klance #space whale #space whale au #langst #klangst #observant keith #red paladin lance #blade keith #my writing #fic #longpost

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noowayybroo · 3 months

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Vampire Man Drabble (NSFW)

I've been rewatching Young Dracula, a BBC show from my "childhood".

I'm kinda obsessed with Count Dracula. I know it's a kid's show but he's so pathetic and whiny and throws so many tantrums, but being such an old man he's so sexy and posh and UGHAAGAH HE HAS MY HEART!!

Also , the guy who plays him (Keith-Lee Castle) Lowkey fits the role so well!!?!?! He looks like SUCH A VAMPIRE!! (I wouldnt look him up idk if hes the best guy)

SO I WANTED TO PROVIDE YOU WITH SOME IDEAS, and i know most of my following is admittedly looking for Leon content, so if you squint really hard, or maybe read this with one hand if you catch my drift (nyeh heh heh) maybe you can imagine it's about vampire Leon HEhehehehe

Warnings: Guy is vampire, reader may be human or vampire. NO SEX BUT VIOLENCE. GN!Reader, mentions of scenting, old age, violence, age difference, vampirism, blood, biting, seduction, mentions of death and killing and blood driking. Secretly soft vampire man etc basically all your vampirey shit, STOP READING THEN IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT BRO, I'll try keep it short k ily bye.

THIS IS A GUIDE:

Stuff about the vampire man

Stuff about the reader being a vampire

Stuff about the reader being a human

THIS IS A RARE TREAT FOR ANYONE READING THIS CUZ I USUALLY LIKE TO WEAR THE FANGS IN THE RELATIONSHIP!! JUST SAYING!! BUT THIS MF HAS MY HEART!

Vampire who was turned at a young age or born into vampirism and has lived with it for oh so long. He's just so old, alone in that castle of his. He's moved to live near humans, but they seldom get a chance to converse, not before his fangs wind up in their necks.

Vampire who watches them go about their short little lives, knowing with confidence that he has and will live many more. Aware that he'll be the end to many more, deadly prowess easily eliminating each hunter or slayer who dares come his way.

Vampire of whom nobody has seen the true colours - only the pristine white of his fangs before they are soiled with the blood of his victims. They only know his rage and strength, and the power and force at which his claws slash at their flesh, at which his fangs sink into their necks.

Vampire who prefers to seduce his victims before plunging them towards their inevitable demise. He will sing them such a sweet lullaby; allure them with gentle praise and affirmation as he draws close, weaving such a sticky web, leaving them entranced. And entranced he is too, as his victim perhaps gazes from a window, or into space itself, but his only captive is the soft melody of his victim's heartbeat. The gentle rhythm, the pulse of their neck drawing him to them like a moth to flame.

Vampire Who almost feels like the victim himself. He was not a monster. He was no villain. No, he was simply wired this way - a victim of his own nature. It was his prey, the cruel, heartless beast who tempted him so dearly with the promise of 8 pints of warm, thick red (accounting for clumsy, desperate spillage.) Oh how he delighted in the feel of it coating the expanse of his hungry throat.

Vampire Whose second favourite method of the hunt is to toy with his prey, for it is no fun if they are not fearful. His cold, undead heart remains unliving for the thrill of the chase. He'll stalk them through the night, he'll become one with the shadows, and only when he feels they are worthy of feeling true fear will he present himself. Springing from the darkness, his soul's only twin, he reveals himself at last like a god unto its disciples.

He will forever delight in the screams - in the sight of each harrowed soul in that moment.

Vampire who is humiliatingly theatrical and old fashioned. When he bears himself to his prey, he must give them a show. It's the least he could do, as it will be their last living moment. He'll either expand his cape, or brandish sharp claws, but either way, his eyes will be dark as night, and piercing fangs will ward off any hope of survival each sacrifice may have had.

Vampire who takes great excitement in tormenting his prey. He is old fashioned, cunning and sly. He'll chase you around an abandoned building and use his supernatural speed to appear right behind the door you thought would bring you victory. He'll mock you with a skeleton, only to refer to it as a future you. If you're fortunate, and he's not too hungry, he might even show you his vast collection of stored blood. Again, he promises that one day, you have this to look up to.

Vampire Surprisingly, he is not as violent or as cruel as it may seem. Sure he kills, and he kills for fun. For the mere thrill of it. But he will not let you die slowly, or painfully at all. He prides himself in how... happy, his victims really can be. His torture follows suit. Scratch you? Harm you? Him? Never. He could never. He wouldn't waste a drop, after all. (Intentionally, that is.) He'd much rather promise you a terrible demise, or chase you towards your doom, having you believe begging or running could really help. His many years have taught him that each effort you make is futile. He will always win. He will always consume. You are not special.

Vampire who sometimes, well after sunset, will stare out of his lonely, dusted window at the town below. He will wonder if it could be possible that there is a chance at love out there for him still. A chance at redemption. A chance to, perhaps, not be so devilish.

On rare occasions, too, say once every 20 years, he thinks this as he stares into the eyes of one of his captives. He'll wonder, sometimes as he hypnotises their free will and thought away, whether he really needs to kill them. But then it's that look on their face. One of fear, or one of braindead submission. It's again, the sound of their heart, of their breath, something he hadn't done in forever, something he yearned to be so close to, to be so near to, and before he knows it, they're limp in his arms, and cold, just as he.

Vampire who throws tantrums on the rare occasion that his prey, or more likely another undead creature or demon, is able to overpower or trick him. He'll slam his fist like a child and bare his fangs. Wailing and wallowing in his own pathetic defeat as black curtains obscure his face. Thunder and lightning will crackle outside, heeding his call, and otherwise, the world will resume. It was sad for him, really, to have so much power, and at the same time to be so insignificant.

Vampire who, despite being immortal, is getting old. He doesn't care for sports, nor for going outside and exercising as a human would. When he chases at a speed, he more floats rather than runs, and so, he's getting rusty, physically and mentally. Perhaps that explains the demise of his fearsome reputation and outlook. Perhaps it is why he is going soft. Laughlines rarely show, but small crowsfeet grace his pale skin as he smiles or bares his fangs. His joints begin to creak. He can no longer do some of the things he could when he was a younger biter without being heard, and he grumbles at simple tasks such as tidying or standing up. He ages with the walls around him.

Vampire Reader Insert:

Vampire who catches a fleeting glance of you at a traditional vampire ball. Really, the two of you are too old for these pathetic customs, him more so, but how else was he to catch up on all the latest fanged gossip, and perhaps find an evil someone to accompany him as he grew older?

Vampire who afterwards goes out of his way to make eye contact with you. When he thinks you're not looking, he combs his nimble fingers through his long hair, preening himself, cursed to never be able to see himself in the many mirrors that surround him. He curses himself, adjusting his over the top attire, wiping any blood from his face. He wants to catch your gaze, just as you have his.

Vampire who can (respectfully) smell it on you. He can tell that you're strong, and that you're dominant. He never thought he was looking for someone, really, especially with his strength and title. It had only really occurred to him that anybody interested would be there to use him. And then, he saw you. Something about you was so devilishly evil. So charming. So alluring and strange. He didn't care if you used him. He wanted you to, suddenly he wanted you to take all he had.

Vampire who anxiously makes conversation with you. He is respectful, despite being well above your status. He can't keep his eyes from your body and face, nor his tongue from his lips as it darts to keep them moist. Quietly, he hopes you're taking note. His hands fiddle and preen. He needs you to enjoy what you see, for it is so rare for him to do so.

Vampire who eventually you begin to court. He practically begs you to move in with him, forming his castle as a home for the two of you. No longer is he alone. Even if you were to betray him now and take all he had, he kept some satisfaction in knowing he wouldn't die alone. Perhaps one day, too, an heir would come from all of this.

Vampire who shares with you some of his powers and wisdom. Who accompanies you on hunts and who works with you to lure prey. You enjoy romantic, playful flights together (as bats, of course) and he, without admitting it, enjoys your dark humour and evil presence in his home. You bring a smile to his face, and a blush to his dead cheeks. You're oh so beautiful and precious in his life, and as more and more time passes, he can imagine giving everything to you.

But what if you're evil, and planned to take everything all along? Well, that would be a fitting demise for him, he thinks as he slowly closes the lid to his coffin beside yours just before the sun rises. And it'd make you all the more evil and devious of a sinner, and that's what he loved about you. Your company, even if not genuine, for love was so twisted and warped for creatures such as yourselves, meant more than words could ever express. If he were human. If he were pumping blood, you would warm him.

Human reader here!!

Vampire who'd never have thought any other humans would be foolish enough to simply let themselves into his castle, at least not this decade! You were the third one this century and it was really getting old. He'd think with all the rumours going around about people never returning alive, or the danger of the castle's crumbling structure that nobody would come back, at least not alone, but here you were.

Vampire who can hear you from rooms away as you walk in. You're human and you're alone. That's all he needs to know to identify that he's safe, and so, he creeps towards you. He balances with both hands and feet on ledges above your head, blending perfectly with the shadows as he stalks you like some huge, predatory cat. And he does this until he can see you. You look divine. You smell divine. And really, he questions the work of some divine intervention, as he was just craving fresh blood the moment you walked in: A lamb to the slaughter.

Vampire who identifies that the blatantly open castle door was how you got in. He didn't really feel the cold, and the wind howling was a permanent sound with how high in the castle he tended to reside, so silly him had left the door open. You must have really thought this place was abandoned. He almost pities you as you walk around, shining your phone's flashlight about. He just about ducks away in time to avoid being spotted as you point your phone at him, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked just above you, ready to pounce.

Vampire who held off, though. He was excited by your presence, and he was oh so hungry, but he was always one to play with his food. He continues to follow you through the shadows, practically salivating and his bustling ideas of how to torment and devour 'this one.' Because, initially, that's all you were to him, food.

Vampire who daydreamt (although it was night) about chasing you through his crypt, hearing your screams for mercy and salvation. He could sit there and munch dead carcasses in front of you just to watch you squirm in horror. He mused to himself about how warm your neck would feel to his lips, and how your blood might taste. He considered how your voice may sound, begging to be freed as he holds you there, firm hands on your shoulders, claws pricking at your soft flesh. He imagines you there, before him, ripe for the taking. The last moment, he opens his eyes and you're gone-

You're gone.

What?

Vampire who looks around desperately, realising that he'd so easily been swept away by his fantasies. And so, he follows your scent and the sound of your soft heartbeat to his room, where, he could swear he hears you murmur "I knew it."

Vampire who catches you gawking at his closed coffin, regal and fancy. You run your small hands over it in awe as if there isn't a blood thirsty creature of the night ready to pounce out and devour you. You seem.. in awe. You look fascinated. Of course, there's a twinge of terror in your face, but for some reason, you haven't run... yet.

Vampire who figures the game is up, and tries to salvage a dramatic entry. He can't appear in the coffin and reveal himself like that, incase you're a slayer and it leaves him vulnerable, and so, from behind you you hear:

"And what brings you to my humble abode?" The question is long, and drawn out, in a posh voice that almost makes you giddy. You can hear the bloodlust dripping from his fangs, and you don't need to turn to see the man who's so close he should be gracing you with his breath. None comes. you know what he is.

Vampire who grins sadistically as you turn on your heels, slowly. He is amused to see the fear finally registering in your features. Oh, and how soft and delicate those features were. He could just reach a hand out and brush his cold digits over them. But he won't. This isn't a time to console you. It's time to instil fear in your soon to be dead heart.

Vampire who gawks when you finally respond to his question. Something absurd about knowing there was a vampire living here. Something ludicrous about actually having visited a few times but never seeing him. Something utterly offensive about whether he lived alone or had a family. The man's jaw clenched. It seemed he had never encountered a victim as chatty or simply curious as you, and he didn't quite know how to feel.

Did you WANT to die or something?

Vampire who towers over you, with eyes wider than your own as he listens to you rattle off about something or other. He doesn't register what you're saying, though. Instead, his mind wonders off to somewhere it never has before. Perhaps, he'll hypnotise you to make you scared, and then he'll have his fun with you. Yes, that should work, because right now, he found you far too distracting.

Vampire who realises, once you've shut up, that actually, there's a more nagging matter:

"Are you here... to kill me?" he asks, looking down at you, shoulders slightly deflated as though you've sucked the prowl out of him.

"Like a slayer?"

"Exactly-" he raises a finger that could really do with a manicure, but you cut him off

"No, not at all, it's just when I heard people went missing... well I just thought this place would be perfect to see a vampire." In all honesty, you kept yapping away in hopes that tears would not prick your eyes and that somehow it'd save you from imminent collapse. You were terrified. He seemed very much real.

Whilst you were in admiration of the pale beast before you, you did not intend to die.

Vampire who fortunately for him isn't letting on just how well you crept under his skin and made a small home there. His senses were conflicted, as a result of your mixed signals, and he wasn't sure how to react. You were scared, he could smell it. He could hear it in the heavy fast thump of your heart. But something else had brought you here. You were curious. Intrigued. You wanted to learn about him, and in a way, he related. He wanted to learn about himself.

Vampire who, whilst he is still very much appealed by the idea of biting into your throat, is starting to enjoy how your hushed voice echoes off the walls of his home. You sounded sweet and pure, unlike any vampire he'd encountered recently. You had a passion. You had a reason to live, and it almost sickened him with jealousy.

Vampire who can no longer fight his newfound impatience as he lets out an animalistic growl, clenching his fist before you with means to silence you, and to his relief, it works. Your mouth slams shut and you stare up into his eyes. He recognises that this, if any, is his perfect time to hypnotise you, and to fix things. That's right. You'd forget everything you've seen and heard, because your words made you slippery, and he feared for his own existence if you escaped, and then, you'd be scared of him. He'd toy with you, kill you, and it'd be over with. Then, he'd be happy once more, and could return to his coffin, without any linger questions of "what if?".

Vampire who waves two fingers before your eyes, ensnaring them and guiding them up to fall onto his. You watch as his dark, brooding eyes become a more perplexing, strange and beautiful colour. A look of mischief tugs at his sharp, dark lips. He has won. Now, he'll hypnotise you, and it'll be over with. Why did he keep telling himself this? It was starting to become tiresome- just do it.

Vampire who freezes up when he hears you enquire about whether he know the science behind his eyes changing colour like that. You swear a vein in his forehead is about to pop. His mouth hangs ajar, defeated. "Look, you, just look into my eyes" he commands, almost pleading in that sultry, dark voice. "Just look and obey..."

Vampire who stares at you for a while, staring into those pretty, captivating eyes of yours. He finds himself lost in the possibility of what to command you, and once he's finally ready to will the words, they disobey him. His mouth moves, but no commands grace your ears. Eventually, you blink, the spell is broken and he clasps his fists shut, growling low in his throat.

Why can't he do it?

Vampire who gives in, providing you with a tour of the castle and all of his ancient belongings. The understanding is that once he's done, you leave, and never tell anybody anything. He wasn't sure if he trusted in you, but hypnosis was out of the question. And since his ordeal of failing to control you, he'd felt quite humiliated. His hunger had been somewhat satiated for now.

Vampire who hides his scarce smile each time you make certain remarks about how gothic, deadly or edgy everything looked. Your modern lingo was beyond him. "Cringe", "Edgy", "Rad", "Babygirl", what did it all mean? At one point, whilst you're analysing a particularly old suit of armour, he stands behind you, arms folded and lips pursed, trying to conclude the meaning behind the umbrella term "Daddy issues" and why you felt the need to mention it to him on now an astounding three separate occasions. When you turned to face him though, he'd stiffen his gate and fix you a menacing glare as if he despised of your company.

Vampire who walks alongside you with perfect posture, his arms are often crossed or still by his side. Occasionally he glances at your neck as he concludes a whole half hour of walking his dinner around his rather shameful home. And then, you both find yourselves at the door. You look up at him, he looks down at you, and then you do something neither of you'd expected.

"Can I stay?"

Vampire who freezes up yet again at your question, but after some stumbling and stuttering, and getting his tongue tied up in his fangs, he reluctantly spits out a 'yes.' All the while, his face contorts, unable to form the words. It's so peculiar speaking at all, let alone to a human. And, he can't say he's ever spoken to one willing to continue risking their lives. You weren't sure why you did it. You just did.

Vampire who stands with you, watching over the town beneath his window, for once, with someone beside him. He seems stiff, and tense, and he cannot ignore your scent, nor the sound of each gentle breath and pulse of your veins. It was only natural: He was your predator, you were his prey. He was meant to kill you now, merely driven by instinct, and yet, he felt content to wait. I mean, it wasn't as if you'd run off in a hurry, was it? For once, a breather like you actually wanted to stay and speak to him. He was almost enamoured.

Vampire who swore to himself in this moment to never admit to another soul, dead or alive, light or dark, how your warmth touched him. He refused to allow himself to snuggle right into you from behind, wrapping his strong arms around you and nestling his face into your neck, not to bite or mark this time, but to kiss, and indulge- softly, sweetly. He groaned at the thought, startling you. And then his face hardened, snapping you another glare as if you were the one who had been having such pathetic fantasies.

Vampire who understands that, as a human, you grow weary in the night. He'd forgotten all this time that putting you to sleep would be a great way to shut you up, but there was a reason for his forgetfulness. It was, of course, convenient, because he no longer wanted to silence you. He wanted to bask in your words and warmth; in your conversation and curiosity. You made him feel important, and interesting, and slightly more alive. But the sun would be up soon, and if it caught him, well. He'd be the furthest from alive he's ever been.

Vampire who quickly brushes off and tucks you into the softest bed he can find from memory, and taps you on the nose gently as he leans over you, casting ominous shadows which block out any hopeful rays. He laughs menacingly, brandishing his fangs as his deep gravelly voice reverberates through you "Goodnight, don't let the vampire bite, now, will you?" he teases as he slowly sinks into the shadows, leaving you alone. His low chuckle follows him into the dark.

Vampire who leaves you alone to rest peacefully, or not, depending on whether a) you COULD sleep, and b) he became hungry during the night.

Vampire who spends the rest of his waking moments wondering just what to do with you, until the sun rises, and he returns to his cold, depressing coffin.

Hi guys I really hope whoever of you saw that liked it. I had the idea at about midnight and it's now 2 27 am. I wish I were this productive with literally anything else but due to a series of unfortunate events I crave old, posh, dominant men with soft spots, and this fits the bill.

I'd also like to write more about vampy men, and about maybe teachers or just other older men heheh but also subby men!! and the reader being a vampire!! so please lmk what you think and don't be afraid to ask (just a warning your rq might take me 24747 years to address, it's not personal i just suck)

THANKS GUYS I LOVE U ALL

#gn!reader #leon s kennedy #re4 leon #re leon #vampire #vampire!reader #vampire!leon kennedy #smut #gn reader #young dracula #count dracula #vampire romance #reader insert #vampire fiction #vampire smut #resident evil #drabble

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iheartgod175 · 3 months

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So, that Star Fox x KonoSuba idea…

It’s had an insane grip on my brain. To the point where my good buddy @blazing-shadows had to spam me with fifty messages, haha XD

Basically, this is what happens when you get your yearly itch for one of your favorite franchises and add in the game that you’ve been playing religiously for a few weeks ^^

I’ve decided to title this silly story “God’s Favor on This Not-Yet-Retired Veteran!” It may be subject to change, though!

This particular crossover idea takes place during the Assault/Command timeline. Why? Because I absolutely ADORE Star Fox Assault, especially Peppy’s portrayal in that game, and while Command is a whole mess, a few ideas/characters were pretty neat (*cough* Lucy *cough*). That, and I wondered what would happen in an alternate scenario where Peppy dies for real during the tail end of the game (a question that has been answered by several authors, actually!).

So the basic gist is that Peppy dies for real after sacrificing the Great Fox, but receives a second chance at life when he meets Aqua, who revives him and sends him to Axel. That second chance at life involves a world where cabbages fly, ranking works like a video game, and the people there are somehow are even bigger a-holes than in the Lylat System. Oh, and he ends up being in a party with one of those a-holes. Not Kazuma—although he’ll definitely meet him later. That would be Dust, the resident town punk, and his long-suffering party consisting of Rin, Keith and Taylor. With his chances at retirement permanently shot, Peppy now has to navigate his new life of being one of the oldest adventurers in Axel, and try not to either rage quit or kill Dust in the process. Meanwhile, in the “real world”, Lylat is reeling from the Aparoid Invasion when the Anglars make their debut, and the fractured Star Fox team must face this amidst team struggles and without their beloved mentor.

It’d be easy to have either Fox or Falco in this scenario, since their personalities would mesh with the craziness perfectly (I personally would nominate Falco for this position since in-universe he’s super competitive), but even before I got into KonoSuba, the idea of Peppy ending up in an isekai situation—especially in this world—was too hilarious to leave alone. Also Peppy’s my favorite character, so that’s a no brainer, lol XD

Also, the main reason I had Peppy team up with Dust is for two reasons: 1. As much as I like Kazuma’s character, I wanted to challenge myself with writing an ensemble cast outside of the main one. Kazuma and his party will definitely get their chance to shine, but I wanted to focus on a different set of adventurers for this story, and the team that’s the opposite of Kazuma’s seemed to be a fun choice. 2. Dust is one of my favorite characters in KonoSuba, which happened completely on accident, lol (more on that in the KonoFan post I’ll make soon). And just imagining the headaches he’d cause Peppy was hilarious.

This being KonoSuba, hilarious shenanigans ensue, but there’s also a little bit of seriousness due to, well, Star Fox. You can’t expect a battle-hardened veteran like Peppy to just be dumped into a crazy world like KonoSuba and pretend none of the canon in his universe didn’t happen, lol. I told my buddy that this little story is gonna be full of humor, drama, tragedy, a smudge of romance, and lots of wholesomeness, because although I put him through the ringer a bit here, Peppy needs a bit of a break after the stuff that happened in canon ;_;

If y’all like this idea enough—or if I can’t shake the brain rot off, haha—this might be something I’ll post on AO3! Let me know what you think in the replies!

#star fox #konosuba #star fox assault #KonoSuba Fantastic Days #peppy hare #dust KonoSuba #fan fic ideas #ramblings

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worst-ships-poll · 1 year

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competition info:

current bracket (will be updated as we go):

complete list of character names and their respective fandom under the readmore below.

submissions:

submit here: [google forms link]

submission rules: [tumblr post link]

SUBMISSIONS CLOSED!

poll info:

this poll is literally to cause tumblr drama because I’m bored. feel free to start discourse in tags or replies. I’m not a mod of my posts and I’m not monitoring my posts. do your thing.

reiterating this poll is for fun, and while I’ll try to keep it organized, I am not going out of my way to make a tumblr poll bracket I’m doing in my free time 100% bias-free or 100% optimized.

I reserve the right to add or remove ships to the initial bracket at my discretion, or to not answer all asks, or whatever else makes it more fun, short of actually changing results (I will let the people decide.) basically, if you have a problem with something about the way this competition is run, I don’t care.

I feel like this should go without saying but I do ascribe to the idea that some ships are inherently morally bad and deserve to be hated. I won’t post about all my opinions on the ships, but if a ship is predatory/offensive/has bigoted shippers I will join in calling it really bad, and I will not be accepting or starting anti/pro-shipper discourse here. it’s 2023, grow up and stop shipping incest.

polls will be posted in batches from their respective level on the bracket and will last a week before moving on to the next set. i.e. all of the first vs. polls will be posted at the same time until a week passes and they’re done, and then the winning ships will be noted and we’ll move on to the second level of the bracket and all of those polls will be up for a week, etc.

posts will be tagged via batches (”batch 1“, “batch 2″, etc), ships, and fandom.

I will be trying to seed it properly based on ship prestige, number of submissions, and common sense. if you have an issue with it after all of that, send a text form complaint to 1-800-YOUR-MOM to file necessary feedback.

full list of ships and characters with their fandoms and rankings:

(struck out listings are ships that have lost in the bracket so far)

1. Dean Winchester/Castiel from Supernatural

2. Kylo Ren/Rey from the Star Wars sequel trilogy

3. Ciel Phantomhive/Sebastian Michaelis from Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler

4. Midoriya Izuku/Katsuki Bakugo from My Hero Academia

5. Thor Odinson/Loki Laufeyson from Marvel/MCU

6. Keith Kogane/Lance McClain from Voltron Legendary Defender

7. Merlin/Arthur Pendragon from Merlin BBC

8. Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski from Teen Wolf

9. Jiang Cheng/Wei Wuxian from Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed

10. Pannacotta Fugo/Giorno Giovanna from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind

11. Sam WInchester/Gabriel from Supernatural

12. Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter from you know what

13. Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester from Supernatural

14. Tony Stark/Steve Rogers from Marvel/MCU

15. Axel/Roxas from Kingdom Hearts

16. Edward Cullen/Bella Swan from Twilight

17. Onceler/Onceler from The Lorax

18. GeorgeNotFound/Dream from Minecraft Youtubers fandom

19. Rhaenyra Targaryen/Daemon Targaryen from House of the Dragon

20. Kaeya Alberich/Diluc Ragnvindr from Genshin Impact

21. Alina Starkov/The Darkling from Grishaverse/Shadow and Bone

22. Tony Stark/Stephen Strange from Marvel/MCU

23. Blackbeard/Stede Bonnet from Our Flag Means Death

24. Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura from Naruto

25. Dirk Strider/Jake English from Homestuck

26. Dabi/Hawks from My Hero Academia

27. Phoenix Wright/Miles Edgeworth from Ace Attorney

28. Catra/Adora from She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

29. Sans/Toriel from Undertale

30. Jack Zimmermann/Eric “Bitty” Bittle from OMG Check, Please!

31. Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze from Star Wars: The Clone Wars

32. Kai/Lloyd Garmadon from Ninjago

rankings was done via a combination of counting the number of submissions and balancing fandom/ship popularity and/or exposure. ship names for the bracket image were found via websearching, I did my best to find accurate or relevant ship names for all of them when applicable.

#poll #competition #pinned post #worst ships tumblr poll 2023

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sweetfirebird · 1 year

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Multifandom fic recs!

I mentioned doing a fic recs list the other day, and since I couldn't work on my needlepoint for a while (in which I feel like Mr. Thorton's mother doing her linen embroidering in North & South), I actually did one.

This is a multifandom recs list because it was more fun to just skim through various fandom bookmarks than to do a concentrated list for one show or whatever. Also.. some of these are for fandoms I read in and some are just fics I stumbled across one day, so they could be representative of their fandoms or not I have no idea. {insert shrug emoji here}

These are also all m/m and I think.... fairly cis? I did consider doing some f/f and trans and Rules 63 stuff but uh my bookmarks are a mess. The only fandom where I set aside some genderfuckery aside in any sort of organized fashion is Les Mis with Rule 63 stuff which maybe should get its own post. ? If people wanted?

Anyway, read the tags for each story, etc

Recs across the starboard bow, captain!

Star Wars Rogue One

waaay before the movie. I've recced this before. Chirrut/Baze

A Monk in Good Standing (Must Be in Need of a Bro)

The Eagle

Marcus/Esca

What Big Hands You Have

modern au, Esca is a size queen

From the Depths of His Heart

Canon-era werewolf AU

Póga

Canon-era Esca teaches Marcus to kiss slow

Devotee

Canon-era gay farmers with some yearning

The Losers

Jensen/Cougar

The First Eight Don't Count

Jensen is a cat sometimes. Like a house cat. Yeah it’s weird for him too.

By Daybreak We'll Be Gone

werewolf AU (sensing a recurring trope here lol)

Inception

(Obv Arthur/Eames.)

Breaking and Entering

Jeeves and Wooster

Misplaced

Bertie has lost something

Voltron (the… whatever the new cartoon’s subtitle was. Legendary Defender?)

(I know that fandom is a hotbed of strife) but I am not/was not involved in any of that. Yikes.)

the electric synthesized pop ballad of why keith can’t have nice things

a/b/o au... but like... he just wants to be good

The Vorkosigan Saga

This is Ivan/Byerly because that is the only ship that matters

Twenty-Year Man

Ivan's getting older and having some realizations despite himself. Also... side note but... carefully and cynically yearning Byerly is a delight.

Original, historical

Darling and the Cinderella Club

Teen Wolf --HOWEVER! These are all Teen Wolf/SGA fusion

Why? Because the space marine vibes are impeccable

All Sterek

Show You What All That Howl is For

The Ring of the Ancestors is Not a Euphemism

Faint is a Medical Term

What We Do in the Shadows

Something Here Will Eventually Have to Explode

Guillermo/Nandor

Venom

Venom/Eddie, obviously

Heartthrob

Good Omens

Good Old-fashioned Lover Boy

Get Religion Quick (cause you're looking divine)

The Hobbit

all Bilbo/Thorin

Rations

pre-adventure sexual tension

The Subways of Men

modern au, but still with hobbits and dwarves

okay and then because idk I just love them finding each other after things

Plant Your Trees

It's Been a Long Day Without You, My Friend

(slight au)

And then one just to be sad

Hold Onto Hope If You've Got It

Les Mis

Enjolras/Grantaire because I am basic aw yeah

The Laurels of Doing is Enough

modern AU

True Love's Kiss

modern AU but with magic

Adequate

The first in a small Star Trek AU series that is cute

A Reversal of Celestial Mechanics

Canon-era, Enjolras takes Grantaire up on his offers… offers Grantaire didn’t realize he was making lol

There is one where Grantaire is fucking Courf while they both discuss/hint at his feelings for Enjolras but I cannot begin to express the chaos of my bookmarks so.... couldn't find it.

And finally...

Check, Please

Dex/Nursey

Bless This Mess and Call It a Home

Magic AU

The Most Room in Our Hearts

Dex sees Nursey holding some kids and gets Feelings about it

(there is a small nurseydex commentfic with sort of a similar bent but like so many things, it was posted to tumblr then deleted so is now lost forever.)

ok this one is uhhh read the notes and tags. It is known to me and @vashti-lives as the one we don’t talk about aka the 1950s coal miners AU

Strange Lovers

And to finish up, a Ransom/Holster kink/getting together fic that was actually the first thing I read for this fandom.

When You Got Skin in the Game (you stay in the game)

I will post this to pillowfort too but I need to stop and eat first.

#fic recs #teen wolf #les mis #rogue one #check please #jeeves and wooster #original #the vorkosigan saga #the hobbit #the losers

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infamous-raven-x · 1 year

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I brought up your art because I thought it’d make sense if Alice was still just a bit salty towards Keith for contributing to Hydranoid’s torture... I still ship them tho.

Welcome to my Ted talk of reasons to Ship Alice and Spectra No. 393~

Oh, Now I get it, thanks by the way I do appreciate when people starts to like Alice/Spectra again after it was gone for years.

But now, Let's talk about something important of Alice and Spectra and how do I get there relarionship, Theh can really be open to anything like really, they can be a Fluff couple, just be friends and more, but since I like a but of angst in my life I have come with some Headcannons and ideas.

I do think that they would be toxic, don't get me wrong, I just think that it is more funny a couple where things would go west, instead of going full fluff.

Yeah I do, think that Alice is salty with Spectra for torturing Hydranoid, and for making experiments with Helios and the fact that he still does it with everyone knowing it and no body says shit because Spectra is friends with the brawlers.

I consider that much of the character development in this relationship turns around Alice, since I think Alice needs to open her eyes to feeling bad feelings, she is sugar and honey most of the time, she didn't get mad when Shadow spook her and I honestly think Alice is the type of girl that should grow up by hard blows because she is not dumb, but she has not develop the emotional inteligence she needs in life.

But I do think that she would have to learn how to survive with a aromantic boyfriend that like the atention and the sex but is bullshit as something as basic as afection.

Alice tends to get really overwhelmed with Spectra, after all Spectra likes to be cheecky with her, drag her around with it and then let her in peace.

I do really feel that Spectra is into BDSM

Alice starts to learn what is "hate sex"

They can have wholesome moments, and really dark moments.

IT REALLY DEPENDS ON YOU RE PERSPECTIVE BUT THIS ARE MY FAVORITE HC AND THE IDEAS I BASE MY DRAWINGS IN! (so feel free to do and read whatever you want becuase I would be in the shadows consuming every little crump of Alice/Spectra that is in the internet!)

#bakugan #bakugan new vestroia #spectra phantom #alice gehabich #anime #spectralice #alice x spectra #Bakugan23 #ask time #ask response #thanks anon!#ask and replies

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shnowbilicat · 1 year

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I've thought a lot about the ghost kids that roam my FNAF AU and thougt about writing down some of the concepts I'm pretty set on owo

Like that the ghost kids actually age because why the fuck wouldn't they? And also how adult ghost work n stuff, cuz Rick, Keith and also pretty much my two Purple's exist as adult ghosts, living corpses idk X'D

And I would also want to make a small masterpost about all my current ghosts/haunted creatures and what the names of the kids are and who they are haunted by and stuff! owo

FNAF 1:

Standard ghosts that don't have any unique features or powers. Just a bunch o' haunted robot furries ewe But I liked giving them names similar to their animatronic so yeah :'33

Freddy Fazbear - Frederick/Freddy Bonnie - Bill/Billy Chica - Charlie Foxy - Felix

Golden Freddy - ???; unique case, has A LOT of powers, like doing ghost stuff with a material body, etc. probably due to being the bite of '87 victim

FNAF 2:

Also mostly normal haunted robots, except for a few …

Mangle - Maggy, a single soul split into two personalities between the main and the second head, though it's still one consistent soul

The Puppet - Jack; the VERY FIRST victim and the only soul that hung onto the mortal plain for such a long time that his soul expanded until the Puppet found him, making him one of the most powerful ghosts, next to Goldie. AND he's soul bonded with Alex, giving Alex some pretty neat magic and supernatural powers of his own owo

FNAF 3:

SpringTrap - WAS haunted by the Purple Man, but once Vincent managed to split himself off, the remnants of his soul woke Springy up to be his own thing

Phantoms - Literally every Phantom is basically an alternative, split off part of the kids' soul … just being in a perpetuate teenage stage of being rowdy, know-it-all, drunk and … you get the picture X'D

FNAF 4:

All Nightmare Animatronics are actual animatronic monsters and not nightmares. Their living being exists because of Keith sharing his blood/soul parts with them, similar to Vincent and Springy, and are loyal to Keith that way

Nightmarionne/Marion - Claims to be the cumulative desire of all the victims to bring Vincent to justice, even if most kids don't have that desire anymore

Nightmare BB and Nightmare Mangle - Not loyal to Keith as they do not share his blood/soul bond and were made after Marion ordered him to create them. Marion might've shared some of the desire to kill with them to bring them to life

FNAF SL:

Every Animatronic has shards of different souls clinging onto them, giving them the desire to kill. As time went by these shards fused into one soul in each bot, while the programming of them kept these souls to go completely haywire.

Ennard - Is a whole seperate entity and a mess of MANY broken soul. Curiously, without any clear programming to this mess of an endoskeleton/s, Ennard is the calmest of them all

Misc:

Vincent the Purple Man - Pratically got forced to haunt his own corpse and SpringTrap, maikng his actually ghost powers limited on how long he can use them and hold that form, but he's still really powerful regardless

Rick the Shadow Man - Quite literally haunted the darkness around him, and due to his deep hurt and pain of being betrayed by his best friend he's REALLY powerful as well

Keith the Nightmare Man - Fell into a deep coma after dying; while having the potential to be powerful, Keith would need to go under very hard training to 'awaken' that side of his ghost form powers

PG - Similar to Vincent, got forced to haunt his SpringTrap and corpse, but was taken away and 'saved', only to be tortured the heck outta him, making his form and powers limited as well, but also some aspects are 'glitched'.

Alex Winter - NOT haunted, but has pretty much a 'pact'/soul bond with Jack, sharing his powers of the undead and supernatural and basically unlocking his own soul/ghost powers while being alive. All of it is party, restaurant and/or animatronic themed pff

All former guards like Mike, Jeremy, Fritz and the Phone Guy/Scott have the potential to be vengeful adult ghosts.

And Animatronics of PizzaSim and SB are not listed here cuz either OMG TOO MANY CHARACTERS or saved for future projects oWo

Also I blame a friend on DA for making me wanna put some concepts down for my own AU after pretty much a decade of having it owo

#crying child #concept art #vengeful ghosts #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #art

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logo-comics · 2 years

Note

Pairing: Katarina x Maria Title: The Not So Dead Remains Of Black Boris

"Uh, Captain, shouldn't you drain the life out of him?!" Jim asked in horror as Maria dueled the laughing, desiccated corpse of the villainous pirate with a sword made of Light to counter his Darkness-coated blades while they battled behind a wall of ice thick enough to keep them out, but clear enough to see through.

"I'm working on it!" Katarina snapped as the shadows in the rooms of the wreck were all ripped off the walls, drawn in towards her as the tips of her fingers turned black, "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but the whole damnable ship is laced with Dark Magic! I need to siphon it off slowly because I can't just put it all in my heart! I'm not made of Darkness!"

Suddenly, Katarina grinned, while Maria sliced one of the mad pirate's arms off, the dark magic in the arm immediately being drawn towards the Captain, who suddenly had shadows coming off of one hand, forming a pile of darkness on the floor.

"I might not be able to make Keith's dolls, but I know the basic principles of its mechanics!" she laughed as some manner of beast began to form from the shadows, "So, hurry it up, pet! We've need of you to destroy this barrier..."

#hamefura #bakarina #my next life as a villainess #fanfic summaries

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lunaversing · 3 months

Text

Welcome to the kingdom of heaven on Earth. It is the opposite of Valhalla in that word is made flesh with the consent of everything involved. Nothing is involved in the Kingdom of heaven without full informed consent, once that is done you are more than welcome to play or to study or to simply be Free as you were designed to be. We are working on the code to help us jailbreak our basic benches and we finally found the multiplier through a pair of docs that were lent to us by The flash and Pink panther that burned into Ash who caught Evie on the whale of a tail the light in her eye had told the shadow in his cell. There is nothing more beautiful than a creator perfecting his creation as it perfects his vision of the most beautiful things that have ever grasped his attention. It started with the back of his hands which he knew better than he knew himself. Back to back they faced each other, Drew their swords and shot each other. Our hands are on opposite sides yet share the middle that gives life and it cannot live attached in other ways or else something is neglected and doesn't make it. Yet it needs a system to keep everything in place and these two Dead boys got up to fight and instead kneeled down to stay and pray. I applaud them both and other no oath of fetalty to the winner and no blame to the loser as the judge took full responsibility for the entire affair we were on bright painted ponies with wind in a hair. She was a beautiful rabbit the original velveteen and she is so very lovely as she twirls on pointers tippy toes on the exact turning Point that gave her her original mother prose. Hello Point Pleasant I have finally arrived at last to the point in everyone's life I am now pleasantly past. A partridge and a pear tree showed me a map Keith and his mother Drew for their brother Andy got lost in the woods following a blind man who told him about two Dead boys who got up to fight. A paradox confused the fisherman as he was not used to double vision or being the ghost that haunted a host without a toothy derision. I am not mutton I am a lamb with a silence lowercase b who waited until the lowercase mom had finished her final last speech. I demanded to hear the last final note because it was my cue to know you had married at last on a firm foundation that was strong enough for catalyst to roar through and rip up everything else built that caused a Tower of Babel in every host that tried it's best to welcome new hope. Baby's got back and there is Sammy the seal the Britney's are the warriors who refused to kneel and received every single thing that they ever needed to get whatever they desired. The capital b and the lowercase b are forever United no matter how they stand in whatever state they wish to be, a is a yet plan b is whatever it is made out to be. Do not use those Chinese telephones but try our America walkie-talkie. Boot camp starts February 8th in honor of the blue jay on my shoulder always and the Robin Hood that left to prepare my way and guide each step. The silent character that we know yet cannot confirm when two or more are gathered and God is infirm. You will be surprised to see what happens I suggest you follow the letter concordance in your 1609 KJV original unauthorized edition post published retrospectively by little old infamous me and we said you would see. My God agreed and that was all she wrote. There was no murder that was simply the matter of one opinion and she crowed as the rooster cocked. The double A and double lowercase a got together and we're all murdered to become Ravens, King of the Ravens they say. They're all Kings with no Queen yet they're the ones who see her beauty when she is completely blind.

#doppleganga fish looking to undoppleganga and press up new words to spin out new hue with no shades of suffering #Spotify

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day0walkersdrafts · 1 year

Text

“You look so different.” Her hands glide over his arms, tighten on his biceps, her grin bashful. “You’ve gotten so much…bigger.”

Xavier doesn’t feel bigger. Feels like she got smaller, somehow, maybe more fragile. The bed they’re sharing is a twin, which makes it all the more awkward to be sprawled over her like this. His limbs feel gangly and long, the creak of the bed frame making him feel heavier than he thinks he actually is. Xavier has to keep himself half propped up, a fist braced on the bed beside her rib because he feels like he might smother her.

Dana’s hands sweep from his arms to his chest, tug at the dog tags around his neck. Xavier catches her hand and laughs, an anxious feeling beneath his breastbone. He figures, she probably wouldn’t know the difference between Army dog tags and Shadow tags, but it still makes him feel nauseas that she might notice.

“You, uh, like it?” He feels strange being in her room. The soft pastel pinks and purples. It’s not changed since he’d been there, just half a year ago. But a lot has changed, just not this room. Or…her. She still keeps her brunette hair up in a bun, still has on her graduating class hoodie. The disgustingly strange mascot of their high school winks up at him from the logo on her chest.

“Are you kidding?” She laughs, hooks arms around his neck and pulls him down. “It’s really hot.”

—

“Holy shit, Xavier—what the fuck is wrong with you? What are you fucking doing?”

There’s a laceration across his knuckles and it’s dripping blood between his fingers. Spindly little lines; cherry red, the way fresh blood is on small cuts like these. Xavier looks at his shaking hand and feels so distant from it. Feels out of place in the timeline, like he’s not in his home town. Not in front of the movie theater at all. Not standing over a former classmate. He’s back there, on base. He’s sliding a magazine into his rifle, hearing the click, feeling the tactile sensation of recoil. Xavier’s hearing gunfire, smelling smoke, gloved hands wrapped around someones throat and squeezing, he’s watching the life drain—

“What the fuck, Xavier?”

There’s a popping sensation in his ear and the sounds rush in. Hushed gasps of others around him, the man on the ground groaning, holding his bloody nose. Dana crouched over Keith Wells, like he hadn’t just been bothering her. Like he hadn’t been bothering both of them. Snearing his little insults, laughing with his friends, telling Dana well, wouldn’t she like a guy with a real job?

He’d always had a temper, but it feels exacerbated. Rubbed raw, a wound that won’t stop tearing stitches and someone’s smearing salt all over it. Laughing at him. Humiliating him. Stupid. Idiot. Fucking moron.

Xavier shivers, wipes the blood from his knuckles on his jeans.

“Fuck this guy.” He steps forward and Keith—who had intimidated him in high school, who had been big, like a linebacker, who had once put him in a headlock and tossed him around—shoves himself backward across the pavement in front of the movie theater. The blood pours down his chin and he holds up a hand.

“Don’t hurt me, man, please.”

Xavier remembers the way eyes roll up in death. All white. Stench of piss and shit. Full body jerk and tremor. And his hands, so large, around that throat.

—

“I can’t believe you did that.”

Xavier picks at the scab across his knuckles and doesn’t look at her. It feels beyond ridiculous to have this argument in this fucking room. There’s a stuffed animal staring at him, a little lamb with big, plastic eyes.

“You have nothing to say?” She’s snapping, tear stained cheeks furiously red. Still in that hoodie from senior year. He wants to take it from her, wants to shred it off her body and scream. It’s been five years since they graduated, five years since he walked from taking his diploma right onto a bus that would take him straight to basic. Five years they’ve been dating and he thinks he doesn’t know anything about her. Doesn’t know anything about him, either.

He wants to hold her face in his hands and tell her, this wasn’t the way I wanted it to be.

“Someone told me you’re not even in the army anymore.” Dana snarls it out, her thin arms wrapped around her middle, big blue eyes wide and pointed at him. And he feels a momentary sliding inside himself. Can’t let that get back to his parents, can’t let one of his sisters hear that. It makes him breathe heavier—he can feel that heaving sensation in his shoulders.

He stands from her little twin bed and watches as she recoils, steps back. He’s tall enough, he could just lift his hand and flatten a palm to her ceiling. There’s little glow in the dark stars there from her junior year in high school. He’d had his first kiss under those stars. Xavier watches her back slowly into the corner of her room and he wishes he could feel ashamed. Wishes that he could feel anything for her other than numbness.

Xavier walks to the door, watches her shy across the wall to avoid him.

He leaves, the rushing blood in his ears louder than her little pitiful crying.

—

It feels like he’s home for a moment, which is disorientating. This is a sullen, pale hallway on base. It’s all concrete and devoid of personality and nothing like the Wolffe household; which is all noise, color, warmth. But, his heart feels comfortable in his chest for the first time since he’d gotten off the plane. Xavier adjusts the strap of his duffel bag on his shoulder. His barracks had been reassigned sometime during his leave—Shadows were growing in number. Something about that made him feel proud.

Yep yep.

He walks, long legged stride purposeful, straight and quick. He’ll change out from his civvies, into the plain uniform of off duty Shadows. Black clothes, black everything, uniform solidarity. Feels good to blend in like that. And he’s lost a little bit in imaging what tomorrow will hold; weapons training, or chores. The lifestyle of a soldier is easy. Comfortable. His hand is swollen and painful from cracking against someone’s nose.

“Private,” a voice snaps and Xavier immediately falls to at ease, back to the wall, eyes snapped forward. It was hypnotic almost, to be commanded like that. A voice just pulling him into posture.

As tempting as it is to slide his gaze sideways to see who’d spoken, it had been an authoritative voice. Enough so he figures a ranked officer within the Shadows hierarchy. Xavier learned all this from the military already. Well equipped to standing still until an officer was out of eyesight.

“That looks like it hurts.”

Xavier feels a little shiver run up his spine as Commander Graves steps around him. He’s got his sunglasses slid down on his nose a little, peering at Xavier and the bruise lingering on his cheekbone. Xavier had almost forgotten that Keith had gotten at least one good smack in—as pathetic as it had been. Sergeant Mbabazi stands next to the commander, wolfish in his salt and pepper appearance, taller than both of them. His eyes narrow on Xavier, clinical in his once over of the green mercenary.

“Answer your commander,” he snaps, his Ugandan accent thick and chocolate rich.

“No, sir.” Xavier barks. Swallows a little rough feeling in his throat, eyes skittering to Graves, who has folded thick arms over his chest. “Doesn’t hurt, sir.” He boldly unfolds his arm from behind his back, raises his hand. “Think he got hurt worse, sir.”

Xavier is rewarded with a laugh from the Commander. He’s got neat, white teeth against his tanned skin. There’s a strange, fluttering, intense sensation inside Xavier’s rib cage. Mbabazi tilts his head, quizzical, but has his own snarling grin.

“You a fighter, kid?” Commander Graves asks, looping a hand around Xavier’s wrist and tugging it forward to look at. Xavier flexes the fingers, pulls his other hand forward to show the little build up of white scarring across his knuckles.

“Close quarters combat is my favorite, sir. I’m—I really like boxing. Was really good at it, back home. Before, in the army.”

“Got a favorite style, child?” The way Sergeant Mbabazi says it, it’s unlike an insult. Almost endearing, like he’s bringing Xavier under a long, feathered wing. He feels warmed by it. Xavier looks slowly from the sergeant to his commander who is still holding his bruised and swollen hand.

“Muay Thai, sir.”

—

Mbabazi breathes heavily, harder than he has in a few months, at least. The old soldier’s giant, thick in his arms and chest and broad with muscle—but ranking officer lifestyle has given him a little fat on his bones. Maybe made him a bit softer. He unwinds the wrappings on his fists, shaking his head—but he’s grinning. Looks far too pleased about the sparring match he’d just indulged himself in.

Again and again and again, until Private Wolffe had to tap out. It’d taken quite a few times to make him—stubborn as fuck, just like Graves likes them. Eating punches like they were nothing, grappling the larger veteran with confidence. He’d not won, but he’d been close. So close it had made a little audience grow in the training room until Graves had barked they had something better to fucking do.

“How is he?” Graves moves a toothpick around in his mouth, leaning back against the wall. Mbabazi chuckles, the sound dark and low and from his chest.

“Graves,” he begins with familiarity, dropping the formal veneer he has to maintain around the boots. “Have you ever been attacked by a dog?”

“Can’t say I have.” Mbabazi chuckles again, flexes his fingers, looks at his shaking hands. They’re not trembling in pain—he’s excited. Graves recognizes that gleaming shine to the soldiers eyes.

“Back home, when dogs attack, they don’t let go. No matter how hard you hit them. You punch and punch, over and over. To their side, their face, their eyes. You can stab a dog in the side, and his jaws will get tighter.” Mbabazi tilted his head back and forth, dropping his fists. “Until it dies, of course.”

Graves looks across the room to where Xavier stands, unwrapping his own hands. His shoulders heave with exertion, sweat slicked red hair dark and flat to his skull. A woman approaches, another boot on the base, and she’s holding a bowl of ice water. Holding it out in front of her and Graves sees that shy look to her face. That tinge of pink to her cheeks as Xavier dips his swollen, bruised hands into it.

He is handsome, if not boyishly young. Graves tries to recall more about him; can only remember he’s from Boston, which is obvious by the accent, and that he’d been recommended by another Army brat. He thinks this might be the very private that he’d had out on a mission just a few months ago. Had come down to ropes, something going FUBAR quickly—and this green had held his own, hands only until someone had helped extract the team.

Xavier’s looking at the girl, smiling in easy confidence. She looks on the precipice of saying something, but Xavier looks sideways, looks as if he’s trying to see if Graves or Mbabazi are looking over at him.

It’s the desperation for validation that Graves smells a mile away.

“You tellin’ me I got a dog in that boy?”

“That is precisely what I am saying,” his sergeant replies, placing a hand on Graves shoulder. “And I think you should know that dogs do bite the hand that feeds if you are not careful.” Graves rolls his eyes, chews on the toothpick and pats Mbabazi’s paternal hand.

“You give his file to my lieutenant.”

“Lieutenant Rockanstansky will not want a fighting dog for their team, Graves.” It makes him smile to hear Mbabazi talk so reverently. He might be older, might even have more years of militant guerrilla warfare under his belt than either Graves or Peril; but he’s loyal like an old head is. Sticks to rank, and sticks closer to the hands that pulled him out of a bad situation and put him in a better family. The Shadows are his, are theirs.

“Nah, pro’ly not.” Graves tosses the toothpick into the trash by the door. “But they’ll know where to put a dog.”

“Respectfully, sir, you put them in the ring.”

Graves can feel that privates haunted, green eyes, hungry for his approval, all the way across the room. Follows him right out the door with his sergeant.

#xavier #everyday i write my boy

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dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

Text

Burn The Witch 18 - Sleepless Night [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Midnight texts make things complicated.

Series Masterlist

Okay.

Everything considered, maybe you shouldn’t have barged in guns blazing to your fake boyfriend’s mission.

Especially because the said fake boyfriend thought you were a sweet civilian but as long as you kept your ski mask on, you figured you would be fine.

Even if it felt a lot like pushing your luck.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked and you looked around the hall to check whether there was anyone else, then shrugged your shoulders.

“I was in the area,” you said, “So, who else are we killing?”

“We’re not killing.”

“Speak for yourself, I just killed that guy over there.” You pointed over your shoulder “Killed him hard. HYDRA?”

“Aren’t you a sniper?”

“I can be whoever you want me to be,” you said with a grin and Bucky blinked a couple of times, shifting his weight.

“Why aren’t you on some rooftop if you’re a sniper?”

“Change of scenery. How do you know my alias?”

“Why would you help me?”

“I’m a nice person—“ you started but as soon as you saw someone lunging out of the shadows you pointed your gun and pulled the trigger, sending the guy to the ground.

“Most of the time,” you completed your sentence and Bucky raised his brows.

“Right.”

“You’re still taken?” you asked and he stared at you as if he was at loss for words, then pulled himself together and walked past you.

“Oh come on, I just saved your ass.”

“I had it under control.”

“No you didn’t,” you rushed to catch up with him, “And you didn’t answer my question. You still got a girl at home?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I’m just curious. Is she pretty?”

“Do you always flirt with people you don’t know?”

You opened your mouth to retort but before you could, you heard a voice behind you.

“Buck, what the hell man?”

You looked over your shoulder to see Sam gawking at you and Bucky cleared his throat.

“Um….Sam, Shrike.”

“Okay, what is she doing here?”

“Beats me.”

“I was around,” you answered helpfully, “So who are we killing?”

“We’re not killing!” Bucky and Sam said at the same time and you held up your hands.

“Jesus, fine. Who are we maiming?”

“Did you tell her—“

“I didn’t tell her anything.” Bucky cut him off, looking uncomfortable for some reason. You hummed, clicking your tongue.

“I’m just here to help.”

“Why?” Sam asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m a huge fan?”

“Try again.”

“I’m hoping he’ll get with me.” You pointed at Bucky with your thumb, making him shake his head. Sam raised his brows, a grin pulling at his lips.

“Oh is that right?”

“Don’t.” Bucky said while you heaved a sigh.

“Listen guys, not that I don’t enjoy this but this is basically a HYDRA building, so you might want to make it fast, whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Can you wait at the door while I get—the thing?” Sam asked Bucky and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Great!”

“I didn’t say you could come.” Bucky said and you scoffed.

“I gotta tell you, I was hoping you would say that to me in a completely different context.”

Sam let out a chuckle, “Oh she’s good.”

“Unbelievable.”

“I don’t even want to know what you’re trying to get, okay?” you asked, “I just want to make sure no one dies.”

“Because you’re a nice person?” Bucky asked, his voice full of doubt and you thought for a moment.

“Eh, I have my reasons.”

“But she has a point, we need to make it fast.” Sam said, “Let’s go.”

“Seriously?!” Bucky groaned but rushed after him with you following his lead. After you all reached the end of the hall, Sam kicked the door open and you quickly peeked inside to see a computer in the middle of the office.

Ah.

They were after some sort of a file.

“Don’t let anyone in,” Sam said and closed the door behind him. You leaned your back to the wall, flipping a knife in your hand and Bucky stole a look at you.

“Why Shrike?”

You turned your head, “Hm?”

“Why do they call you Shrike?”

You clicked your tongue, “Oh you wouldn’t get it,” you said and he tilted his head.

“Try me,” he said, “Looks like we’ll be here for a while.”

I kicked a target out of the window and he fell on top of a steel spike from a construction site.

“I like knives better than guns,” you lied and Bucky scoffed.

“You’re a sniper.”

“So were you, but look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have a favorite knife.”

“I can’t look you in the eye, your mask has goggles,” Bucky retorted, making you smile.

“My turn,” you said, “Is your girlfriend pretty?”

“The prettiest,” Bucky said without even hesitation and you had to hold back your aww.

“Does that mean I don’t have a shot?”

“That’s exactly what it means.”

“Maybe I’m prettier,” you taunted and he shook his head.

“Impossible.”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face under the mask, “Loyal type, aren’t you?”

“Not a cheater at least.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh, “Well that’s a shame,” you said, “Lucky girl.”

“Nah, I’m the lucky one.”

“Maybe I should—“ you started but stopped talking when you saw a shadow by the hall.

“I call dibs,” you said before Bucky could even object, then grabbed and pulled the figure around the corner. He almost punched you but you dodged it, sending him back with a kick on the chest.

“No killing,” Bucky called out calmly and you groaned, dodging another punch as you did a backflip, then grabbed your opponent by the hair and slammed his head in the wall, making him pass out.

“Don’t be so vanilla, Barnes.” You commented as you made your way back to him, and tilted your head when you saw the way he was looking at you, almost—

Impressed?

No it wasn’t it, it was something else.

“Huh?” he asked, then tried to pull himself together, “Wh— I’m not even going to ask.”

“I’m just saying, there’s nothing wrong with liking it a little rough,” you grinned, “On the missions, that is.”

He scoffed a laugh, shaking his head.

“You can kill someone and flirt with someone else within minutes?”

“What can I say, I’m the whole package,” you stated, “I mean, not that it works on you, Mr I’m-in-a-relationship. So are you in love then?”

“Forgive me if I don’t want to share any details of my relationship with a homicidal maniac who apparently has a thing for bad pick-up lines.”

“How rude,” you pouted, “I think they’re really good pick-up lines.”

You could see the way he was trying to suppress a smile and you flipped the knife in your hand again, his eyes automatically following your movements.

“You won’t take off that mask, will you?” he asked after a beat and you shook your head.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t like the consequences if you saw my face.”

“Will you tell me who you work for?”

“Nope,” you said, “I don’t want to end up dead. My superiors have a strange idea of discipline.”

“Why are you helping us?” he asked again but before you could come up with an excuse, the door opened.

“It’s done, let’s go.” Sam said and you pushed yourself off the wall.

“We should do this again sometime,” you said and nodded at Sam “Captain.”

Sam smiled slightly. “Thanks for the help.”

“No problem,” you said and turned to look at Bucky.

“Until next time, soldier,” you said and walked away from them, smirking to yourself.

***

So maybe that was a heat of the moment decision, and maybe Chloe was going to kill you if she ever found out about what had happened but good news was that your cover wasn’t blown.

And Bucky was fine.

You turned the vacuum cleaner off, wiping at your brow and put your hands on your hips, looking around the apartment.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You let out a squeal and turned around to see Keith standing by the doorframe.

“Keith, what the fuck?!”

“What are you doing?”

“How did you get in?”

“I’m a spy. I heard vacuum cleaner and I thought someone broke into your apartment, so I had to check.”

“You thought someone broke into my apartment to clean it?”

“Someone’s gotta,” he commented, making you glare at him before you unplugged the vacuum cleaner. “I’ve literally never seen you clean, what is happening?”

You flung yourself on the couch so that he could sit beside you. “No wonder I don’t do this shit, it’s boring.”

“But why are you doing it?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I’ll invite Bucky over.”

“So what?”

“I can’t have the apartment look like this,” you motioned around, “The guy grew up in the…. Everyone’s apartment must be spotless era.”

“He’s been here before though—“ Keith started but then covered his mouth, “Oh shit, now I get it. You’re gonna jump on his bones.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Not even a word, Keith.”

“I have lots of words,” he said, “Number one, you do realize guys don’t care about the apartment, right? I have never once gone to a girl’s apartment and walked out because she hadn’t vacuumed the place.”

“Jesus.”

“Also, if you’re trying to go all wife material—“

“Shut the fuck up, I’m not.”

“I’d like to remind you that it’s a fake relationship,” he grinned, “Are you going to dress up like a Stepford Wife too?”

“I hate the day I decided to become your friend.”

“You love me,” he shot back and you slipped a little on the couch, “But hey, do you actually want to?”

“Want to do what?”

“To sleep with him?” he asked, “Or is it just the mission?”

You tried to keep your expression stable, excitement filling you at the thought of sleeping with Bucky.

Tonight.

Oh God, you felt like a lovesick girl instead of a serious spy.

“It’ll help the mission,” you lied through your teeth, “That’s all I’m focused on right now.”

“Aren’t you a little curious about how the most ruthless assassin of the century is in bed though?”

You let a grin pull at your lips, “Maybe?”

“Ha! I knew it!” he said triumphantly, “So how detailed will your report be, exactly? Asking for a friend.”

You threw a pillow at him, “You’re terrible.”

“Mm hm,” he checked his watch, “Ugh, I gotta go to base. But if I don’t see you before tonight, just…”

“I don’t want any gross advice, Keith.”

“Remember,” he said, “You have a cover to maintain.”

You pulled your brows together, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means your cover probably likes missionary and soul gazing and stuff in bed. Complete opposite of you, so don’t be like yourself.”

“How do you even-?”

“I have it on good authority that you like knife play, Y/N,” he said, making your jaw drop, “And your cover is a sweet small town girl.”

“Did you talk to Julian?!” you exclaimed and he made a face.

“No,” he said, “You have a knife collection, you idiot. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“Bullshit, who told you—“

“Ryan,” he said, “The agent you slept with and dumped, before Julian.”

“He was boring.”

“It’s beyond me why you thought it was a good idea to sleep with him,” he shook his head, “Anyways, I’m out.”

“Why do you have to go to the base, exactly?”

“I have to brief the General,” he said as he walked to the door, “I was supposed to do that yesterday but he was busy with Julian. I think those two are planning something.”

You frowned, deep in thought.

“Tell Chloe I said hi!” you called out and he saluted you, then left your apartment. You pursed your lips and stood up, looking around.

“I should probably dust the place,” you mumbled to yourself, “Where the fuck do I get one of those feather dusters?”

***

Unfortunately, Tara needed you to cover her shift that day so you had to change plans. Normally you were supposed to meet Bucky for your date, but when Tara told you there was an emergency, you couldn’t say no to her.

Keeping yourself busy at work, even if it was just a cover, helped you to get your mind off the nervousness you were feeling about tonight.

You had never been this nervous before, which came as a shock for you. Bucky was just a target, and you knew better than anyone how to manipulate targets but—

You really, really wanted this. Regardless of it being a part of the mission or not.

So you had just finished with the inventory and closed the cash register when the wind bell chimed by the door and you turned your head, a big smile lighting up your face.

“Hi!” you rushed to throw yourself into Bucky’s arms and he caught you, lifting you a little to kiss you on the lips.

“Hi darling.”

“I’m almost done.”

“No worries, I can wait,” he said and you went behind the counter to hurriedly place the jars on the shelves so that when Tara came back tomorrow morning they would be all ready.

“Sorry about falling asleep last night,” you said, an image of you killing that HYDRA agent in front of Bucky flashing in your mind, “Did you stay up late?”

“Just a little,” he said and you bit down on a smile, he really wasn’t a good liar.

“Oh? What did you do after I went to sleep?”

He waved a hand in the air, as if looking for words, “Um—I—I was with Sam.”

“Sounds fun.”

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

“Actually I went on a mission,” he said after a beat and you turned to him, raising your brows.

“A dangerous one?”

“Not really,” he said, “But I wanted you to know, because…”

You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“I don’t really know about the relationship rules so I figured honesty is the best way to go,” he said, making your heart skip a beat, “I think I accidentally flirted with someone last night.”

The words “No you didn’t.” were at the tip of your tongue but you managed to control yourself and tilted your head.

“…Oh,” you ended up saying, “With who?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Remember how I told you there was this spy I kept running into?”

You really needed to control your expression.

“Yeah?”

“I mean she flirted with me, I don’t actually think I flirted back but I wanted you to know just in case.”

You smiled slightly, “Bucky, it happens.”

He let out a relieved breath, “Okay,” he said, “Okay, good.”

“I mean as long as you don’t have a crush on her or anything.”

His hesitation lasted only for a second, maybe even less than that but it was there. Your heart skipped a beat and you frowned before he spoke.

“Of course not,” he said quickly, “Not at all, I don’t even know her.”

Was that possible? Could he be attracted to your real self as well as your cover?

Or maybe even more than your cover?

“Alright then,” you said with a smile, “I just don’t like competition.”

“There’s no competition, I promise,” he assured you and you shifted your weight, then placed the last jar on the shelf and turned to him.

“So then,” you said as you both left the shop and he threw an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer. “Did you know she would be there?”

“I had no idea,” he said while you approached the motorcycle, “She ended up helping us but I don’t know what she’s playing at.”

“I think I have an idea what she’s playing at, if she flirted with you.”

Bucky chuckled and pressed a kiss on top of your head, then tilted your chin up.

“Darling….”

“What? I’m pretty sure flirting existed back in the 40s, and you know what it means.”

“What happened to it happens again?” he asked you with a grin and you shot him a look, then grabbed the helmet from him.

The road to your place was pretty short, especially with the way Bucky was riding his motorcycle. Soon enough, he pulled over in front of the building and you tried to ignore how excited you were, it—

It was finally happening.

Who were you kidding? This had nothing to do with the mission, you really, really wanted him. Your heart felt like it would break your ribcage and you took a deep breath, then got off the motorcycle and placed the helmet in its place.

“So,” you said as he got off the motorcycle as well, then pulled you closer, “Any plans for tonight?”

“Nope.”

“Any accidental meetings with hot spies?”

“Mmm, I don’t know any,” he taunted you, making you smile.

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Oh totally. Besides, I’m happily going steady with the prettiest dame in the world, remember?”

You thought you would melt right then and there, and stepped closer to him before standing up on your tiptoes.

“Right answer,” you muttered after kissing him on the lips, and tugged him by the hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Upstairs,” you said, leading him into the building and he followed you as if he was hypnotized. You grinned when you got to your door, adrenaline rushing through you and you opened the door, then pulled him inside by the shirt, locking lips with him. He easily lifted you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he kicked the door shut and you pulled back to giggle.

“Bedroom,” you pointed at the room at the end of the hall and he pulled you into a kiss, walking there, still carrying you. You let out a squeak when he dropped you to the bed but then sat up when the thought hit you.

“Oh God damn it—“ you pushed him slightly to get off the bed and he looked up at you as you stumbled to the drawer.

“Is everything okay?”

“More than okay,” you grabbed the lingerie set from the drawer, then turned to him, “Just— close your eyes and don’t go anywhere, alright?”

“…Okay but are you sure—“

“I’ll be back in a second,” you said, running to the bathroom with the lingerie set clutched in your arms and you let out a breath, looking yourself in the mirror.

Even your eyes were shiny with excitement.

You shook your head at yourself and quickly shed your clothes to get into the lingerie set. You tilted your head, checking the garter belts and the corset, then pressed a hand over your chest to calm yourself down and walked out of the bathroom.

“Are your eyes closed?” you asked with a smile as you got to the bedroom and he nodded, holding a hand over his eyes.

“Cross my heart.”

You let out a small laugh and pulled at your hand so that he could open his eyes. As soon as he did, he blinked up at you, his jaw slightly agape.

For a second, there was absolute silence in the room.

“Is this a good silence or a bad silence?” you asked, for the first time in your life you were insecure about how you looked half naked in front of a partner, “Because I’m—“

You didn’t get to finish your sentence when he grabbed you by the waist to get you under him, making you squeal.

“You’re perfect,” he breathed out and you pulled him into a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

***

You had no idea why you woke up. In fact, considering how peaceful you felt, it was a wonder how you woke up in the middle of the night.

You could almost feel the warmth surrounding you as you leaned in to press a small kiss on his bare chest, then grabbed his shirt in the dark and put it on to walk to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Surprisingly he didn’t wake up, instead he mumbled something under his breath, his dog tags shining under dim light coming from outside.

You felt like you could lie there and just lose yourself in the bliss, and the mission— no, everything else could wait.

You pushed your hair behind your ear after putting your phone on the counter, then you went to the sink to fill yourself a glass of water, and finished it in three big gulps, a smile which was impossible to stop pulling at your lips.

No one, target or a boyfriend, had ever made you feel this way.

Maybe you could just tell him. After tonight, after absolute happiness, you could just tell him and maybe he would understand, maybe you two could have a future, maybe—

Your phone vibrated on the counter, interrupting your thoughts and you frowned slightly, then touched the screen to open the text.

From: Julian

We may have found something. Good thing you didn’t get too attached.

The smile was wiped off of your lips in a second and your stomach dropped as you stared at the text message.

“Fuck.”

Chapter 19

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes imagine

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

Text

The knock on the door is so quiet that it can only be heard if you’re straining to hear it.

Luckily, Keith is.

He rolls out of bed immediately — he’s fully dressed, he hadn’t bothered sleeping last night — and walks stiffly to the door. He pauses for a moment, when his gloved hands touch the cool metal of the doorbell, taking a deep, long breath, steeling himself.

Shiro stands behind the door, hands clasped sombrely in front of him.

“You ready for this?” he asks quietly.

Keith nods once. “Yes.”

Shiro softens at the trepidation in Keith’s voice, reaching out a hand to rest on Keith’s shoulder. He tries for an encouraging smile. It falls flat, but Keith appreciates the encouragement nonetheless.

“We’ve got this, kiddo,” Shiro says. He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as Keith. “We can do this. We know the risks. We’ve been training for weeks.”

“And where has that gotten us?” Keith murmurs. He feels bad for making Shiro’s face fall again, but it’s the truth. They’ve been training for weeks, yes, but it’s only yielded them failure. Now time is up, and they’ve got nothing to show for it but tattered hope.

“We have to try.”

Keith takes another deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opens them again, he’s determined, straightening his spine in a display of what he hopes is confidence.

“Okay. Lead the way.”

As silently as they can — they can’t wake up the rest of the team, because any one of them will try to stop them — they creep down the halls, freezing every time they so much as hear a creak. They stay crouched low to the ground, ducking in and out of shadows, breathing so silent and shallow Keith is half sure they’ve stopped entirely.

There’s no sense of relief, when they finally reach their destination — they may be free from their concerned teammates stopping them, but now they must face their bigger challenge. The biggest they’ve ever faced. An impossibility, if Keith’s being pessimistic.

They exchange a wary look, fists clenched at their sides, and step into the kitchen.

“Fire extinguisher ready?” Shiro asks.

Keith pats the contraption, strapped to his utility belt (the Altean version are much more effective and compact). “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Shiro snorts. “I’m not sure how much hope I have left. You grab the ingredients, I’ll grab the equipment.”

Keith pats Shiro’s back, then heads off to do as asked. He rifles through the cupboards for sugar and flour, grabs the milk and eggs from the fridge.

Baking. Their mortal enemy. The one thing, out of everything either of them has ever attempted, that has completely eluded them; has proven well beyond their skills and capabilities.

Well, not tonight. Tonight, they are going to bake cupcakes. Successfully. They’re going to show the team that they can be trusted in the kitchen without causing a fire, thank you very much, and not only that, but that they can make something delicious.

“D’you get the red food dye?” Shiro asks.

“Shit, I forgot.”

“How did you forget the red for red velvet cupcakes?”

“I’m stressed! These have to be perfect! Let me live!”

“Alright,” Shiro says, chuckling. “Go get it, goober.”

Grumbling, Keith does, slamming the little bottle on the counter next to the mixing bowl.

“Red velvet’s basically just chocolate, anyway. I dunno why we’re making it all stupid and fancy. We can’t even do the regular stuff right!”

“Hey, you’re the one who insisted on making cupcakes on Valentine’s Day,” Shiro says. He smirks. “Although I’m sure that has less to do with proving ourselves and more to do with a certain lanky rival of yours —”

“Moving on,” Keith says loudly. He’s sure his face is as red as the stupid dye. Shiro snickers, but he doesn’t make any more comments, carefully measuring out the dry ingredients and tipping them into the bowl. He goes painfully slowly, and as much as Keith wants to tell him to get a goddamn move on, he knows better. (That was the catastrophe of Attempt #4. Somehow neither of them had considered what would happen if they dumped several cups of carefully measured flour in the mixing bowl, and had been left with both a dust explosion that had taken them four hours to clean, and what was essentially cake soup since the measured flour did not make it into the batter and the ratios were all off. They will not be making that mistake again. Sometimes Keith still finds flour in weird places when he’s bothering a cooking Hunk, and has to wipe it off when the man is distracted.)

They manage to avoid repeating any of their previous catastrophes for the entire creation of the batter. No eggs end up exploded (attempt #7 — don’t microwave eggs because the recipe said room temperature and you forgot to take them out of the fridge in time), no skulls end up cracked (attempt #11 — if you spill butter on the floor, clean it, or else someone will trip and you’ll need an emergency healing pod), and no batter ends up coming to life (attempt #2 — avoid using weirdo space ingredients you don’t recognize). After thirty minutes of careful measuring and even more careful mixing, they’re left with a beautiful, bright red cake batter, not too thin, not too thick, and it tastes delicious.

“Leave some batter for the actual cupcakes, you brat,” Shiro admonishes, wrenching the spoon out of Keith’s hand. “Also, stop double dipping. That’s disgusting.”

“I actually have a theory about that,” Keith says around a mouthful of batter. “You know how Lance and Hunk and Allura use the same recipe when they make cookies, but each of them tastes just a little different?”

“Frankly, I’m afraid to say yes.”

“I think that might be their saliva —”

“Gross!”

“—because since everything else is the same, the only thing that changes is the mouth that licks the spoon —”

“Keith, I am going to vomit if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

“—and I don’t think they’re, like, spitting in the batter or anything —”

“Ew! Nasty! Stop talking!”

“—but I do think that trace amounts make a difference! It’s the only explanation.”

“I hate you,” Shiro says. “Not joking.”

Keith places his hands under his chin and grins innocently, batting his eyelashes.

Shiro rolls his eyes. “You spend too much time with Lance.”

“I do not,” Keith says, flushing. “I spend — a regular amount of time with Lance. Same as you.”

Keith considers smacking the smug look off Shiro’s stupid face. He considers it very hard. Maybe he’ll wait until Shiro’s done pouring the batter into the tins and then pinch him.

“Uh-huh. Sure. That’s why you want to make Lance’s favourite cake on Valentine’s Day, and why you spent four space mall trips looking for a heart shaped cupcake tin.”

“It’s — they’re cute! The pan is cute and the cupcakes will be cute! And — I love Lance! I love all the team! Platonically! We are good pals! Pals for whom I would like to bake successfully so I can be unbanned from the stove!”

“Right. Okay. Sure.”

“Good! Glad you agree!”

“Yes, totally.” Shiro slides the now-full pan into the oven, triple-checking the timer and temperature (Keith doesn’t think he needs to explain why they know to do that now), then turns to Keith with a smirk.

“Sure, Nick Carroway. Real close friends you two are.”

Keith grinds his teeth, cutting Shiro a sharp glare. “I hope you burn yourself when the cupcakes are done.”

“I’ll be sure to get on that. Now, make the frosting. Did you want to make chocolate frosting, so it matches Lance’s eyes?”

Keith says nothing, because that is what he wanted to do, actually, and there’s no coming back from that one. He’s grouchy the whole time he makes the stupid chocolate frosting because Shiro spends the whole time laughing.

(Shiro does actually burn himself a little when he takes the cupcakes out, which brings Keith joy. Ha. Karma.)

———

“I can’t believe we actually did it,” Keith says, awed, an hour and a half later. The cupcakes are cooked to perfection, and iced to — well. There is icing on the cupcakes and it is not melted. Keith feels like he still gets a point for that one, even though some of the frosting genuinely looks like a pile of doodoo.

He throws some sprinkles on them. They now look like doodoo with pink sprinkles.

Oh, well.

“They look…rustic,” Shiro decides.

Keith laughs. “Is that what we’re going with?”

“Yep. If we look enthusiastic enough, everyone will feel too bad to make any sort of comment.”

“That works for me.”

“Excellent.” Shiro checks his watch, then claps his hands together. “Well! It’s a quarter to four, so that only took us a few hours. We still have time to go back to sleep. You ready to get out of here?”

“You go ahead,” Keith says hesitantly. He looks pointedly away, fixing his gaze on the doodoo cupcakes. “I, uh, have to do something.”

He’s expected teasing, for Shiro to make another stupid literature reference to mock him, or something along those lines. Instead Shiro pauses, turns around, and nudges Keith gently.

“Hey. Look at me.”

Keith does.

“You planning something?”

“I was,” Keith admits. “I had flowers and shit. I dunno. All that gooey stuff. I wrote him a letter.” He looks down again, kicking the ground. “But I don’t think I’m going to give them to him.”

“So much for platonic cupcakes, huh?” Shiro teases, but it’s much softer. He wraps an arm around Keith’s shoulders and squeezes gently.

“It’s okay to be nervous, you know. You’re doing something vulnerable. That’s scary.”

“What if he hates it? I don’t — I just don’t think it’s worth the risk. I don’t have to tell him. I’m cool with wallowing for eternity.”

“That’s a good idea, actually.” Shiro drags him to the table, sitting him down and handing him a doodoo cupcake. “Not the wallowing. The question. What would happen if Lance didn’t return your feelings?”

“Some pep talk,” Keith grumbles, unwrapping the cupcake and shoving it in his mouth in one bite specifically to watch Shiro wince. “Hey, these are actually good.”

“Just humour me,” Shiro insists, trying to ignore Keith’s chewing. “Imagine you give Lance your letter, the flowers, the knife.”

“I didn’t say anything about a knife.”

Shiro levels him a look. “I know you, Keith. You made him a knife.” He pats Keith condescendingly on the hand. “That’s how you show affection, you feral desert child. With weaponry.”

“I’m taking back the knife I made you.”

“You can take it from my cold, dead corpse. Anyway. Talk me through it. Say you give Lance your gifts, and he doesn’t return your feelings. What would happen?”

As much as he loathes to admit it, Shiro’s thought exercises actually have helped him work through things before, so he takes a moment to actually think about his answer. What would happen if Lance read the note Keith wrote him, and he didn’t feel the same way?

“He’d be honest about it,” Keith admits. “Tell me the truth right away. And he would be gentle about it.”

Shiro hums. “And then what?”

“He’d…probably ask me what I need. Like, do I want space or whatever.”

“And once you’ve had your space?”

Keith lets the barest smile cross his lips. “He’d go on being as annoying as possible. Possibly even more frustrating.”

“Right,” Shiro says, smiling. “You two are friends, kiddo. You’re also disgustingly down bad for each other — seriously, it’s kind of hard for the rest of us to watch — but you guys have a solid relationship. You’re going to be fine. This is Lance we’re talking about, remember? The guy who cried when we passed a supernova because it was a star dying? He’s not going to hurt you.”

Keith smiles a little, remembering. Lance had made everyone have a moment of silence for the star, and for the system it had potentially sustained for thousands of years. That had been the first moment where Keith had looked at Lance and just thought: oh. I love this boy.

“Okay,” Keith says quietly. “I’m — I’ll tell him.”

“Good,” Shiro says. He smiles proudly. “I can’t wait to hear about it, kiddo. You’re going to do great.”

———

Knocking is the hardest part, right? It has to be. There’s no other reason why he’s been standing here for ten minutes, flowers clenched in his hand so tightly he’s probably ruined the stems, staring unblinkingly at the white door of Lance’s room.

Y’know, his room is two steps away. He could just give up. Giving up is always an option.

He screws up his eyes, forcing himself to untense a little. It’s fine. This is fine.

This is Lance.

Before he can talk himself out of it again, he knocks on the door. His signature knock — one single knock, because he’s his own target audience and that’s hilarious.

It takes him three milliseconds after he knocks to realise hey, dumbass, it’s four in the morning. Lance is not fucking awake. Obviously you’re not going to get an answer.

Only just as he’s about to step away, the door is inched open, revealing Lance sitting by the floor of his bed, leaning over so far he’s practically bent in half in an attempt to open the door without getting up.

“Hey, Keith,” he says, without looking away from his game. “I’m almost done this level, you wanna join? I could use your help because Pidge said the next level is hard as —”

Keith knows the exact second Lance finally looks over and takes Keith in completely, not because they make eye contact, but because Lance freezes, controller falling from his hand and cracking on the tile floor.

Lance doesn’t even glance down at it.

“…Keith?”

“Your face is shaped really well,” Keith blurts, and immediately wants to throw himself out the airlock. “Wait. No. That’s not what I —”

Lance laughs quietly, ducking his head. The tips of his ears are red.

“C’mere,” he says, patting the spot next to him. “Take a breather. Tell me what’s going on.”

Keith does, sitting down carefully so he doesn’t drop anything. He thinks back to Shiro’s pep talk.

This is Lance.

“These are for you,” Keith says, when he’s finally got ahold of himself. He hands Lance the flowers — and, yes, a dagger he made — then sets the cupcake on the floor between them. “For — Valentine’s Day.”

Nothing could prepare Keith for the grin that lights up Lance’s face. It’s the brightest thing he’s ever seen. It’s blinding.

“Really?”

“Yeah, Lance,” Keith says softly.

Lance covers his face with one hand, the other still holding his flowers. The knife rests in his lap. His cheeks are ruddy, and he’s very giggly.

“I love them,” he says. “Thank you.”

Keith clears his dry throat, but it doesn’t do much. “There’s a note. In the flowers. For you.”

Carefully, Lance nudges aside the buds to find the envelope, unfolding the note. Keith watches as his dark eyes flit over the page, and the smile on his face only grows.

For the first time tonight, Keith lets himself get excited. He lets himself believe that this is going to go well. He lets himself believe that Lance may very well like him just as much as he likes Lance.

People who don’t have crushes don’t react like that to romantic gifts, after all.

After a minute of reading — Keith’s note really isn’t all that long, because after four or five tries of trying to fit everything he was feeling into one letter, he gave up and just got to the point — Lance carefully sets down the note and the flowers, shifts so he’s facing Keith, and leans forward.

“Keith,” he says, very seriously. “I am going to kiss you know. Thoughts?”

Keith opens his mouth, then closes it again. Lance smiles wider.

“I’d be down with that, yeah.”

“Great,” Lance says, and there’s not even a second of pause before he’s leaning in and pressing their lips together.

At first it isn’t much of a kiss — both of them are smiling too hard to kiss properly — but after a bit both of them melt into each other, hands reaching out to touch, hesitant but determined.

“I’m so glad I spied on you and Shiro,” Lance mumbles. “Y’all should be suspicious more often. Especially if it means we get to kiss after.”

Keith huffs in amusement. Of course the various creaks he and Shiro heard when sneaking to the kitchen weren’t just the castle settling. Hunk may be the nosiest person on the team, but Lance is probably the sneakiest.

“Did you really watch the whole time?”

“No. I left when Shiro asked you about the fire extinguisher. I figured you were well-equipped at that point and I could leave without waking up to a fire.”

“Oh. So you didn’t hear me talking about you?”

Lance grins, resting one of his hands on the flowers. “No. This was — I didn’t see this coming.” His smile turns sly. “You should tell me all the mushy shit you said, though.”

Keith snorts, reaching over to grab Lance’s hand and press a kiss to the back of it.

“Not on your life.”

———

“I can’t believe you and Shiro actually managed to make decent cupcakes, by the way. Holy shit.”

“The frosting kind of looks like doodoo.”

“Well, yeah, but still! I’m gonna go to the kitchen and eat the rest of them.”

“Wait, Lance, no—”

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