Now with color, but still DOOM IN SPAAAAAACE.
I have finished all my big contracts. Looking forward to TCAF and maybe a day or two of relaxing.
GUYS HELP SOMETHING HAS BEEN TAPPING ON MY WINDOW FOR LIKE 5 MINUTES I’M SCARED TO GO LOOK
oh my gOD
SORRY FOR THE LACK OF MAKING OUT
They met through a mentoring program—upperclassman Johann Schmidt was less than happy about having to escort this stupid brick across campus for two weeks while he “got settled in”. But the two weeks came, and went, and Brock would not leave him alone. It wasn’t until he saw Brock knock a man across the room for calling Johann “a creepy motherfucker” that he thought he’d let him stick around—maybe he can be useful after all.
(Bonus epilogue: Johann does all Brock’s homework and in exchange, Brock is his bodyguard beating up anyone who looks at him funny. :D)
Whatever they had been fighting about, it clearly wasn’t worth remembering at this moment, no. Ben honestly couldn’t have cared less about what they’d been bickering over, it was probably Reed, but right now his lips were crushing against Victor’s and his thick hands were on the smaller man’s slender ass, squeezing it eagerly. Victor shuddered against him, and Ben slipped his tongue between those lips, happily feeling at Victor pressed back against him, groaning deep.
The kiss lasted longer than they had intended, rough and combative, with Ben’s fingers pressing bruises into Victor’s hips and Victor’s fingers scratching at Ben’s back and sides for purchase. Long enough that it didn’t break until Reed had walked in and let out an impressively bursting, high-pitched yelp.
No don’t be sorry I like writing about Pietro/Wanda because I’m trash
It had happened (like he always knew it would)…They had won, after years of clawing and fighting and mutilating their enemies, they had won. Really, he had won—it had always been him—but as his right-hand man, Brock figured he was allowed to indulge in some of the royalties of this new land they had formed, and take some credit. And Johann Schmidt (now King, Lord, the God of the people as he had always been God to Brock), ruler of all, did still require his body guard…and always would, Brock assured himself.
Because a dystopia is Red Skull winning and ruling the world for sure.
Johann’s ears were ringing as he came to, and the lingering ache in his skull and neck felt…unfamiliar. When he opened his eyes there was only a dim, small shaft of light, filtered through clouds of dust…and he cursed, realizing as he attempted to sit up that his leg was trapped. Of course it was. He should have run faster while the base was collapsing, should’ve left instead of staying to taunt and battle that ridiculous Captain.
"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, Skull?" A surprisingly thready, soft voice muttered from nearby, and Johann had to squint to confirm…ah yes. Of course he couldn’t have been crushed. Johann could only get so much satisfaction out of seeing him looking quite battered, his uniform bloodied and one arm being cradled.
"Captain." Growled, glaring as the other man made his way over to him, studying the beam that had fallen across Johann’s leg. "Is this where you finally kill me for justice?" Skull’s head was pounding so severely….that didn’t sound like a terrible option, in all senses.
To his surprise, instead, the Captain shifted, bracing back against the beam and squatting down before pushing back, teeth grit. The metal groaned…then moved, stirring surrounding slabs of concrete and plaster in a small shower about them, but Johann’s leg was freed, and he dragged himself free. The Captain let the beam settle and crouched, panting, still clearly pained.
Johann got to his legs, unsteady, and limped a step towards him. “…Dank.”
"You can thank me by helping us get out of here." Breathless. "I’m not strong enough to move half of this by myself, and I’ve no intention of winding up entombed with you." he smiled when he said that, offering his shoulder, and Johann was startled before smirking and leaning on him, letting him take the weight off his injured leg.
He owed the Captain, after all. Having to be pressed against him while limping was about the only upside of the situation.