north and south fic

Imagine Agent Florida dragging the other Freelancers on a camping trip
- Wyoming attempting to make tea over a tiny, really shitty camping stove, because he ran out of the stuff he was keeping in a flask within a few hours
- York’s failed attempts to get the disposable barbecue they brought to work
- Maine not fitting in any of the sleeping bags they brought, so he ends up just lying in the one-person tent with his feet sticking out the door
- Florida bringing a guitar and dragging everyone around a campfire to sing songs
- Wash finding a cat on the walk to the campsite and insisting on keeping it in his tent
- Carolina and Tex both attempting to sabotage the others’ tent by pulling out the pegs and cutting the ropes that hold them up. They both wake up to find their tents have collapsed on top of them
- North literally being the only one who knows properly how to put up a tent and he spends at least an hour walking around and trying to stop everyone from stabbing each other with the tent poles
- South and CT almost setting fire to everyone’s stuff when they thought it would be a good idea to pour the fuel for the camping stove onto the campfire

Bonus points if the ai are there too:

- Delta following York around while trying to inform him that no that is not how you turn on a barbecue Agent York please stop kicking it you need to use it
- Sigma having to remind Wash that he isn’t actually on fire, and that putting a stick with a marshmallow on it through him will not cause it to start toasting
- Everyone lying in their tents, and everything is quiet, until there’s a sudden statement of ‘knock knock’ from Gamma followed by a collective noise of anger from every single person’s tent
- Theta making a fireworks display by the campfire
- Omega threatening to fight every single bit of wildlife that they walk past

shall we dance?

 @whimsical-writer said: Fluff Prompt: Carolina doesn’t ask for two AIs, and thus South gets the Happiness/Joy AI (I don’t know if we know which that is of Eta and Iota :“u)

Characters: Agent South, Agent North, Iota

Warnings: None

Words: 1089

On AO3

South hated dance classes as a child. Ballet, especially, was infuriating – she wasn’t allowed to run and shout and jump but had to stand at the barre with everyone else, back straight, chin up, arm just so. Every class more rigid and structured than the last, until Quetlyn called her “sausage-legs” and South punched her in the face. And, well, that was the end of ballet classes.

(“Good job,” North had whispered to her afterwards, so serious already at ten years old. Their parents had felt differently.)

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gdesertsand  asked:

• Lovino and Antonio only know each other as fanfiction writers and not in real life. They were friends as writers but strangers in reality. So how things will go if one day Antonio catch a glimpse of what his favorite customer (he is a waiter in a café) writing about and it turns out it is the new chapter of his friend’s ongoing story? (Thank you again!)

This is essentially a text-fic! I didn’t know they could be so hard to write, but they are, man. With all that formatting. *Shudder*. But it was still fun and I’ve been meaning to write a text fic for AGES. 

tomato-turtles: Antonio
lovirage: Lovino
actual-prussian-badass: Gilbert
fancy-fucking-francis: Francis
actualsunshine: Feliciano

EDIT: I forgot to add, for the sake of this fic, let’s assume the two are writers in the Harry Potter fandom, mostly because Harry Potter is a well-known universe and it won’t confuse anyone. Also, let’s assume that they’re both Remus/Sirius shippers, because that pairing is cool. 

Antonio always dropped in his customary ‘good morning’ in the Tumblr chat. Lovi used to get super annoyed initially, but now he just played along. Antonio suspected Lovi looked forward to his good mornings. 

tomato-turtles: hi lovi!! how are ya

lovirage: hey tt. 

He always called Antonio ‘tt’, short for Tomato Turtles: his name on AO3,, and of course, Tumblr. 

tomato-turtles: i reread your new chapter after you told me you were worried about it
tomato-turtles: and it’s so cute!! really youre such a good writer <3 

lovirage: thanks. 

tomato-turtles: why were you so worried about it anyway

lovirage: i got a fucking flame comment saying i needed to get hit by a bus and stop writing 

tomato-turtles: WHAT NO 
tomato-turtles: WHO IS THIS 

lovirage: relax tt. i don’t really care, i deleted the review
but it still made me worried that maybe the new update for my fic sucked

tomato-turtles: IT DOES NOT. IT’S SO CUTE

lovirage: good to know
lovirage: hows your morning going

tomato-turtles: mmh the same really. getting ready for work
tomato-turtles: im putting in a couple of extra hours this week because i want to go on a roadtrip with gil and francis over the weekend

lovirage: these friends of yours, they seem crazy. theyre the same ones that got drunk and spray painted moustaches onto every fashion hoarding they could reach?                                                                                                           

tomato-turtles: they never got caught for that lol
tomato-turtles: what are you gonna be doing today? 

lovirage: idk it’s a saturday so i’ll probably just sleep some more
lovirage: maybe write the new update

tomato-turtles: A NEW UPDATE ALREADY? YAYYYYYY!!!!!!!

lovirage: calm down tt 
lovirage: i’m just keen to add a plot twist

tomato-turtles: oh god no

lovirage: what?

tomato-turtles: your “plot twists” always involve someone dying 

lovirage: that is not true


 lovirage: BUT I CURED HIM


lovirage: *sends gif with evil laugh*
lovirage: …and my cute fic is going to become…dark

tomato-turtles: ughhhhh i hate you

lovirage: really now? 

tomato-turtles: ok no i love you tbh but like
tomato-turtles: can you let my children live in peace

lovirage: HELLO EXCUSE ME, but YOU wrote that fic “SPEAKING OF SUNFLOWERS” and you fucking tortured remus with crucio until he lost his mind and I was screaming and crying 

tomato-turtles: we write such dark fics
tomato-turtles: we should collab on something funny!! fluffy!! 

lovirage: good idea. maybe soon

tomato-turtles: anyway i gotta go to work! bye lovi have a nice day :D <3

lovirage: bye tt 

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quick itabros fic

“Hey, fratello,” Veneziano said, sitting on his beach towel and facing out to the sea.

“What do you want?” Romano asked, irritated. He didn’t bother getting up or even opening his eyes. He was perfectly comfortable lazing on his beach towel, thank you very much. He had been drifting off to sleep before Veneziano had killed the silence, like always. Whatever his brother wanted to ask, couldn’t it have waited?

Not catching his older brother’s irritation (or more likely choosing to ignore it, given its frequency), Veneziano plowed through.

“When I die, do you think my soul will be sent to heaven or to the ocean?”

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anonymous asked:

OMG! is there any sterek fics like Pride and Prejudice??? ☺️🙏🏼

Hey :)

Haha! OMG. I love pride and prejudice so much!!! Also if you’re a P&P fan, ya gotta check out North and South. So amazing!!! Anyways, here are the fics I have and you can also check out the historical tag for more good stuff.

Really, Derek Hale? by  relenafanel | 47.1K | extras

Derek loves his sisters, so when Allison expresses the need to visit her family home in Beacon Hills years after the death of her parents, Derek agrees. It’s the perfect setting for him to work on the storyboard for Lycaon Production’s newest horror movie. It also happens to be the hometown of one of the most popular horror movie vloggers.

Stiles’ Horror Picture Blog just might be the inspiration he needs to put Lycaon back on the big screen. He doesn’t expect Stiles himself to become his inspiration.

And he certainly doesn’t expect Stiles’ antagonistic treatment of him in return, even if he understands how it happened. Derek has never been very good at people, and he has no idea how to make it right when everything he tries just makes Stiles’ opinion of him worse.

Scowls and Sarcasm by  dr_girlfriend | 26K

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single alpha in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a mate.

Whether or not Derek Hale felt that way was hardly a concern to the neighborhood — the very fact of his arrival was enough that the surrounding families seemed to consider him the rightful property of one or another of their eligible sons and daughters. That was, of course, before they met the man.

Our Kind of Nuts by  ericaismeg | 22.5K

Stiles doesn’t know that reaching out to Erica, a girl from his Psych class, is going to change his entire life. All he wanted was a quiet place to study. Suddenly, he’s becoming best friends with Erica, getting a tutor from Boyd, going crazy over this guy who is quite passionate about Pride and Prejudice named Derek, being supportive to Lydia, finding some weird peace treaty with Jackson, and inviting Erica’s best friend to live with him, Scott, and Jackson for a bit.

He didn’t expect things to turn out like this, but hell, he’s not complaining one bit.

Due to popular demand, I now present to you

marauders-groupie’s Bellarke fic rec!

These are my top 20 faves, in no particular order because that would be impossible. Expect fluff, angst and everything else imaginable.

“The one hundred sent screaming down to Earth are not just juvenile delinquents. They’re genetic anomalies; mutants. Chipped, collared, and completely expendable. But they’re not going down quietly.”

WIP. Canon ‘verse. Definitely one of the most amazing stories I have ever read. Bellarke development is incredible, the plot is intriguing and this fic definitely deals with topics such as survival and trauma in a unique way, plus - this writer’s style is absolutely breathtaking and fits the atmosphere of the fic.

“Clarke’s jaeger goes down on a Thursday.”

Pacific Rim AU. This one is going to stick with you. Its beauty is going to haunt you for the rest of your life because the pain and the joy are tangible, the relationships radiate understanding and honestly, I’m still stuck in this magnificent world full of hurt, comfort and wonder.

“Bellamy and Clarke have known each other almost all their lives. Life got in the way, though, and two of them drifted apart, but when tragedy strikes again and again in a few months, Clarke runs away, and Bellamy, as he always has, runs after her. Picking up Raven for the ride, Bellamy embarks on a day-long road trip adventure chasing Clarke’s trail as she rights wrongs and tries to learn how to cope with life as it is now.”

Childhood friends, modern AU. Let me put this simply - this is real, raw and gripping. We’re talking serious literature here, friends, and that sort that you’ll want to postpone finishing because you want to stick around in that world for a long time. 

“Clarke Griffin is a pragmatist and Bellamy Blake is a fucking romantic.”

Modern AU. This fic takes place before an apocalypse. A meteor is about to hit Earth and Bellamy and Clarke are pining after each other.
Now, wait up! I know you think it’s going to be sad, but this is one of the happiest fics I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading. Trust me on this one. It’s quite literally Earth-shattering.

Clarke Griffin’s first introduction to the industrial town of Mechton is the gruff, harsh Bellamy Blake, and from that ill-fated meeting alone, she can’t imagine how she will begin to call this new place home. Soon, though, she finds that places grow on you, and also that people change, but only if you are willing to let yourself change as well.

North & South AU. The thing is, this fic is so well-researched, the character interactions are amazing, it deals with class and sex-related issues. There is bickering Bellarke and take-no-shit Raven, but that’s not even the best part. No, the best part is that this writer has a unique style that brings the whole story to life, as palpable as the screen you’re reading this on. 

“Fourteen nights that brought royally messed up Clarke Griffin back to life and the one man that made everything right again/ Bellarke modern au Prague-Lourdes-New York and back home.

This fic is poetry and magic. The atmosphere is tender and dreamlike, a bubble threatening to burst any second now, which fits perfectly with the premise - travelling, meeting a stranger to whom you open up to and who changes your life forever. It’s full of beautiful moments that are going to strike a chord deep within your heart (and maybe even break it, only to put it back together right away).

“The au where Bellamy prefers calls to texts and Clarke prefers to make fun of him over outgoing message. Also, they fall in love.”

In this modern AU, Bellarke is told through voicemail and I guarantee that you’re going to laugh out loud, but also clutch at your chest dramatically. One of the best fluffy fics I’ve ever read. 

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renaroo  asked:

Angst meme: How South makes the decision to leave North and Theta behind to save herself

“Just fucking pull him!”

“I’m not going to feed Theta to that thing!”

There was a time when South would’ve bothered with a comeback.  So you’ll feed us to it instead?  But it’s been a long time since there was any point.  She saw the writing on the wall back when he took Tex’s side.

North thinks she’s more reasonable these days.  She just lets him talk.  Fucking men.  You just let them get on with their word vomit and they think they’re the shit.

“On your six!”

“Jesus fuck, North, you know how clocks work?”

“He’s so goddamn fast…”

Oh, she’s heard it all in her day.  You watch each other’s back.  You fight for goddamn family.  You’ve only got each other.  You bleed for blood.

Shit yeah she has.  Sheds a little more of it right now as a stray bit of shrapnel wings her from the goddamn brute shot.  What kind of insane fucker uses a rocket launcher for a close range weapon?  And to think she always liked Maine’s style.

Who the fuck’s going to shed blood for her, that’s what she wants to know.  Never you fucking mind; she’s got her answer to that.  Had it ever since North white knighted himself all over Tex and York’s stupidass stunt back on the Mother of Invention.  The answer is nobody.  North’ll put out buckets of the red stuff for the team, for the cause, for motherfucking Theta.  But his own goddamn twin sister?  Yeah, she’s on her own.

South!”  Theta’s piercing scream is wrapped up with North’s.  She swears and hurls herself face-first down a muddy bluff to dodge the monstrosity suddenly in her face.  He’s too fast.  Superhumanly fast.

They’re going to die here.  She’s going to die here, and North is going to fucking die here and let her fucking die here for the sake of a computer chip with an anxiety problem, and what’s left of Maine is going to take what he wants anyway, and she fucking resigned from this shit, thank you.

She rolls to her feet at the bottom of the bluff, gun pointed at the enemy before her head even finishes turning, and stares up at the hulking white shape that used to be her teammate.  She flipped on North years ago, as soon as they pulled themselves together after the crash.  Family is for shit, blood doesn’t buy you loyalty, and when the one asshole who was supposedly genetically disposed to be on her side aimed guns in her face, goddamn if she wasn’t going to take her cue.  If he wouldn’t have her back, he’d be her stepping stone to better things.  And goddamn if she’s going to let a zombie Freelancer eat her brains for the sake of a covert nanny assignment for some overly chatty equipment.

But Maine isn’t moving.  He’s staring down at her with the sun turning that gold dome into a solar flare, and so long as she doesn’t fire, he’s not going to come after her, is he?  She’s out of his way.  He wants the AI, and she doesn’t have one.

She doesn’t have a cocksucking AI, and it’s suddenly so funny that she chokes across their comm band trying not to laugh.

North makes some kind of sound of concern.  In the second it takes her to blink the tears of discomfort from her eyes, Maine’s not in her line of sight anymore.  He’s so goddamn fast.  And all she has to do to get out of this alive is just take a deep slow breath before she shouts her warning.


A/N: SPAMANO WEEK. You thought I was going to miss that? Pfft. 

July 30th: Dresses (Canonverse)

I see this as a pre-relationship fic, or a ‘they’re-not-admitting-they’re-in-a-relationship-yet’ fic. 

The sun’s quiet beams gave the dust a new life. It was almost like dated glitter that had lost its shine. It even smelled. Old dust always did. Of smoke and mould and time. The little circular window of Antonio’s attic always reminded Lovino of Heidi. He imagined peeking out to see dramatic Swiss hills and maybe two little girls (one in a wheelchair) playing with sheep. The real view was just of a flat, long road lined with peaceful houses exactly the same as this one. 

Lovino wiped the sweat off his brow with his wrist and stretched, so the knots in his spine went crack-crack-crack. He’d promised to spend his Sunday helping Antonio sort out his boxes. I want to simplify, Antonio had told him. There’s a lot of stuff in the attic that I want to look through. Some of it was trash: centuries’ old clothes or coins that held no emotional value. They’d be shipped off to a museum. Lovino had also found some letters, paintings, and photographs, along with a broken knife from the 1600s that Antonio seemed keen on keeping. 

They worked quietly and efficiently, only speaking when they had something to say. It was hot. They were dusty and tired. Neither was in the mood for conversation. Lovino picked up a military badge from the bottom of a box. He almost threw it in the trash, but then asked, “Antonio, do you want to keep this?” Lovino got no reply, except for rhythmic but audible breathing. He looked over his shoulder. “Antonio?”

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Guns in my Head

Spamano College/Mafia AU


Lovino’s breath came out ragged and quick, echoing off the grimy alleys walls along with his uneven footsteps. He quickly turned a corner, pressing himself against the wall and covering his mouth to hide his anxious breathing. He heard footsteps and mumbling behind him, and he closed his eyes, icy fear gnawing at his belly. He opened his eyes and looked down the alley, mentally cursing himself when he saw it was a dead end. He was trapped. Sharp footsteps sounded nearby and the voices grew louder, speaking what he could only assume was Russian or some other language he had no way of understanding. He bit his hand to keep himself from making any noise as fearful tears welled up in his eyes. He could hear the angry Russians only a few feet away. This was it. Fuck it. He ran out of the dead end alley and out towards the main road. A shot rang out and he felt the bullet fly just past his ear. If he could just make it out onto the street, if he could just-

Another shot sounded and he crumpled to the ground, screaming out in agony as pain flared from his injured leg. He grabbed it desperately, daring to open his eyes. Just above the knee. No chance of walking with that injury. He used his good leg to push himself away as his pursuers closed in, a few laughing coldly as they watched his pitiful escape attempt. He gripped his leg firmly, feeling hot sticky blood seeping through his fingers. Shit. Must have hit an artery. He felt himself growing weak, Blood flowing freely from his wound. He looked up at his attackers, his vision growing blurry and dark. A tall man walked forward, a long scarf draped over his wide shoulders. He kneeled down and cupped Lovino’s pale face with one of his larger hands.

The man placed a swift kiss on Lovino’s cheek before standing up and setting his gun level with the man’s face. He pulled the trigger and everything fell black.

Lovino let out a short scream as he fell off the bed, sheets tangled around him like a spider’s web. He groaned, rubbing at the sore spot on his temple where his head had hit the hard floor. He laid out on the ground spread eagle, eyes squeezed shut. Another nightmare. He thought. It had been the third time this month he’d had that dream, and he could still heard the deafening sound of the bullet, the sight of the gun barrel in his face still fresh in his mind. He groaned again and rolled over, getting stiffly to his feet. His head screamed out in agony, and he remembered the night before, saw the empty wine bottle on his nightstand. Great. Another hangover day. He slapped a hand onto his thigh, letting out a small sigh of relief when he felt his usual pajama boxers. At least he didn’t bring a stranger home this time. He reached out for the bottle, and finding that it still had a small amount of wine in it, decided “fuck it” and downed the rest, gagging slightly as the flavor mixed terribly with the taste of vomit at the back of his throat. He walked into the bathroom, the sheet still draped lazily around his waist. He washed his face, brushed his teeth twice and gargled nearly four times the recommended dose of mouth wash. He debated whether to take a shower or not and decided against it, just brushing his bed head hair as best he could with his fingers. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, the dark bruises under his eyes and his pale complexion, the dark locks of hair that refused to lay flat. He really looked like shit.

He laughed at this, jerking when the movement sent a wave of nausea through him. He heard movement in the other room and glared at the wall. Great. Feli and the potato bastard are up. He walked back into his bedroom, quickly changing into a t-shirt and jeans before walking out into the hall. He walked into the kitchen, covering his eyes at the bright sun light seeping through the open window. Feliciano turned when he heard Lovino groan, gave him a big smile and ran up to hug him.

“Buongiorno, Lovino!” He gave him a rib crushing hug and a kiss on each cheek.

“Alright that’s enough, Feli, let me go.” Lovino growled, though there wasn’t as much bite to the words as he had intended. He gave Ludwig a quick glare, which the German half heartedly returned, and sat down across from Feliciano at the kitchen table. His brother was eagerly shoveling down eggs and sausage, and Lovino looked disdainfully down at his own plate.

“I still can’t believe you eat this garbage.” He said, pushing some of the fried potatoes around with his fork. “You dare call yourself a Vargas?” Ludwig sat down next to Feliciano with his own plate and gave Lovino a half smile.

“He won’t have too much longer.” The German said, an almost boastful look on his face. Lovino eyed the rings on their fingers with a mixture of disgust and resignation. He flicked a small piece of potato at Ludwig and hit him square on the cheek, but the other man simply ignored him, turning his attention to his meal. Feliciano slapped him playfully on the arm.

"Don’t be silly, I’m still keeping my surname.” They smiled at each other and went back to their food.
Lovino angrily stabbed a piece of sausage and ate it quickly. He hated to admit it, but he had started to like Ludwig’s cooking over the last two years living with them in their shared apartment. The man was a pretty damn good cook. Feliciano tried to start up a conversation (which for him was more of spouting random bits of information and rambling until someone stopped him, he stopped of his own accord or he simply ran out of thing to say, the later being very rare) but Lovino could barely understand him through the unholy amount of potato in his mouth. Ludwig cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at Feliciano, who took the hint and swallowed.

“Really Feliciano, I must teach you some proper table manners.” Ludwig scolded, though his tone was soft and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He wiped a piece of food off of Feliciano’s cheek and the boy gave him a sweet smile. Lovino rolled his eyes, quickly finishing his food and leaving the table in search of coffee.

“Oh! I already made you a cup Lovino, just the way you like it!” Feliciano chirped from the table. Lovino eyed the cup suspiciously, then took a sip. Damn. It was just the way he liked it.

"Did I get it right?” Feliciano asked hopefully. Lovino grunted in acknowledgment, then took a long sip. He closed his eyes and sighed, feeling the caffeine flood his system and the throbbing in his temple subsiding. He let himself relax slightly, until his eyes found the clock.

"Shit,” he muttered. He quickly gulped down the rest of the coffee, almost choking on the bitter drink.

“Feliciano! It’s almost 7:15! We’re going to be late!” he ran back to his room and roughly shoved his books and schoolwork into his bag then rushed back out into the hall. Feliciano was quickly putting on his jacket and the pants he had forgotten, then gave Ludwig a quick goodbye kiss and rushed out the door. Lovino snatched up the keys his brother had forgotten, ignoring Ludwig’s goodbye as he slammed the door shut. Feliciano was patting himself down in search for the keys, which Lovino shook in his face as he ran past him to open the car.

They barely made it in time for their classes, everyone already settling in when Lovino burst through the door, looking like a hangover in human form. He quickly took his seat and pulled out his books, cursing the course and it’s stupid material. He already knew English and Italian, why did he have to learn Spanish on top of that? The kid next to him snickered and he glared at them reproachfully.

“looks like someone had a wild night,” the kid said, his eyes roaming up and down Lovino’s disheveled form.

“Fuck off,” He growled through his teeth. Looking away as the teacher set up their slides.

When lunch rolled around Lovino welcomed it happily. He sat down at a table, sighing in relief. Then he groaned and bent over, palming his eyes angrily. On top of all the work he already had he now had a Spanish exam on top of it. Fucking perfect. His head felt like it was going to crack open. He pulled his books out along with his lunch, flicking through the pages until he found the material they had studied in class. He spread his notes out around him, and as he moved to place his notebook at the edge of the table someone walked past and knocked it to the floor, along with several of his notes.

“Oh, lo siento, I wasn’t looking where I was going. “ The man bent to help him pick up his notes. His head still throbbing and his mind zapped by his stress and lack of sleep, he accidentally slipped back into Spanish.

“Mira hacia donde vas, idiota” the man stopped and smiled at him.

“Oh, you speak Spanish? Que mas sabes?” It took Lovino a moment to realize what he had said.

“Uh….” He shook his head. “Sorry my head’s killing me, what did you say?” he looked up at the man and took in his appearance. He was tall, with tanned skin, curling Brown hair and bright green eyes. He smiled sweetly at Lovino, who looked away, suddenly hyperaware of his own terrible appearance.

“Nothing, here let me help.” He scooped up Lovino’s stray notes and placed them back on the table. “I’m Antonio by the way. Y tú?” he had a Spanish accent. Great. He thought. Just what I need. More Spanish.

“Lovino.” He said, slipping back into his usual defensive self. Antonio’s smile widened.

“Oh, Italian right? I love Italy, are you a native?” Lovino narrowed his eyes, irritation flaring in his stomach.

“Why the hell should I tell you?” He barked. Antonio shrugged and leaned an elbow on the table.

"Well why shouldn’t you? I’m native to Spain, and you are…?”

“Uninterested.” He gathered his notes and shoved them back into his bag. He was not in the mood to deal with an overly cheerful Spaniard. He pushed his way past the other man.

"Adios, bastard,”

"Hasta pronto!” came the chipper response from Antonio, who was waving eagerly, the same stupid grin on his face. Lovino let out an irritated sound, his anger only deepening when Feliciano attacked him from behind with a tight hug. He pushed his brother off, cursing loudly.

“Come on, Lovino! You can come sit with us!” He gestured to the other people sitting with him, and Lovino joined them reluctantly. He recognized Kiku, an older student in Feliciano’s art course, and Francis, the Frog his brother befriended for whatever ungodly reason.

“Who was that, fratello?” Feliciano asked as he sat down.

“What?” Feliciano let out a small laugh.
“That guy you were talking to. The one with the nice butt. “ Lovino rolled his eyes.

“Oh. Him. Just some idiota who knocked over my notes. Obnoxiously cheerful. Named Anthony or some shit.” Francis raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Oh, you must mean Antonio, mon ami.” Lovino grunted in acknowledgement and took his notes out again.

“Yeah, that. Clumsy bastard, got my notes all dirty.” Francis twirled his rose-damn why did the bastard always have a rose with him-between his fingers and waved it next to Lovino’s face. He slapped it away and glared up at the Frenchman.

"Fuck off you Froggy bastard, I’m busy.”

"Come on, bro.” Feliciano giggled. “We’re just having a little fun. Besides, Antonio’s kind of hot.” He nudged Lovino in the side. “You can’t be single forever, you know.” Lovino shot him a dirty look.

"Just mind your own damn business, I’m trying to study.”

By the time they made it home Ludwig had already returned from work and Feliciano rushed into the kitchen to make dinner with him. Lovino had never been one for cooking, so he decided to retire to his room and work alone. He pulled out his books and started working, barely reading half a page before his eyelids started to droop. He jerked his head back up, forcing himself to stay awake.

A gun shot from the other room woke him up. He froze, eyes wide and heart stopped. Then his pulse raced and icy hot fear engulfed his mind. Oh god. Feliciano. Ludwig. His worst fear had come true. People were in the house. His brother could be hurt, bleeding out, maybe even-He pushed the thought away and stood up, careful not to make any noise. He walked to his door and quietly opened it, cursing himself when he realized he had forgotten to grab anything to defend himself. He looked down the hall, and when he didn’t see anything he walked out, pressing his feet down as softly as possible. He wasn’t going to let anyone else die because of him, not again.

He pressed himself against the wall and listened, the silence in the house almost screaming in his ears. He quickly grabbed the baseball bat he kept by the door and held it firmly in both hands, taking a deep shaking breath before turning and entering the kitchen. Hot pain erupted in the side of his head and he crumpled to the ground, handed pressed firmly to the bleeding wound. The man had hit him with the handle of his gun and was now standing over him, gun pointed at his face.

“Lovino!” He heard Feliciano’s scream echo down the hall, high and shrill. Unconsciousness looked over him, making his vision dark and spotted. The dull pain in his head thronged and he groaned. He had to help his brother, he couldn’t lose anyone else. He couldn’t stand the thought. He tried to stand but the man kicked him down, holding him down with one booted foot.

The gun was once again placed against his head, the cold metal almost soothing against his burning skin. Lovino closed his eyes. He was too late.

“Lovino!” his head shot up, one of his notes stuck to his face. Damn it, he’d fallen asleep. Feliciano was calling him from the other room, telling him to come to dinner. Lovino rubbed a hand against his face, letting out a shaky breath. Just a dream. Only a dream. His brother was in the other room, laughing happily with his fiancé. They were fine. They were alive.

When he joined them for dinner Feliciano gave him a concerned looked.

"Are you okay, fratello? You look terrible. Did something happen?” Lovino shook his head, too distracted to come up with a sharp retort.

“Just tired. Feel asleep studying again.” Feliciano gave him a small smile.

“Okay good. Now, how about a nice big plate of pasta!” Lovino felt his mood rise slightly. He did love pasta. He gave his brother a rare smile, but something was nagging at him, deep down inside something dark was struggling to fight it’s way out. He couldn’t tell Feli. He just couldn’t. This was his burden to bare, and if he had to die to keep in hidden, so be it. As long as his brother was safe, he didn’t give a fuck what happen to himself.

anonymous asked:

Texas time AU where Church stays a villain because it's the easiest way to get Tex's attention. He sets up some huge plot to show off, somehow traps the hero PF sent through sheer luck then in the middle of his rant on how much Project Freelancer sucks he turns around and goes "Wait who the fuck are you? Where's Texas?" and the Freelancer has to listen to Church bitch about how he set up this great deathtrap he can't use because PF can't even bother to send the right hero

He scratched at the wig, his scalp itching with no contentment in sight. It was all Church could do to keep from plainly ripping it off at once and exposing more of his identity than he already was. 

When he heard the grunting and struggling continuing, Church bothered to look the way of the dangling superhero in need. He scowled at South – they never got along back in the academy days. 

There was a small part of him still satisfied that she couldn’t outwit one of his traps.

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RvB: Misquoted

Taken from this lovely post.

“I’m not kidding,” Tucker said the morning of, and Church kept laughing. “Hey, asshole! I’m not kidding.”

“Tucker, that’s the most melo-fucking-dramatic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who asked for reassignments.”

“Five years of dealing with you assholes, hell yeah I asked for reassignments.”

“Fuck you, Church. I don’t even care. My ass gets on that plane and I forget you, and this shitty box canyon, and this shitty sham of an army.”

Church clapped him on the shoulder, a grin in his voice, and said, “yeah. You’re welcome, buddy.”

“Goodbye,” South said, quiet. North’s head was in her lap, their weapons discarded behind a stone somewhere. She knew this was over. She had made sure of it. Some part of her wondered if she should take off the helmet and make sure his eyes were closed.

Her secure channel kicked into life, the voice of Recovery Command. “Recovery One is on his way to you.”

She took her hands off the latches. “Copy that. I’m ready.”

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I want to get back to some of my rebelcaptain AUs because I’ve really been slacking lately and I keep forgetting what I actually wanted to work on, so for my own sake and to tease you all I guess, here’s a totally incomplete list of stuff I am either actively working on, trying to plan out in my head, or wanting to get around to at some point:

  • North & South AU
  • Blade Runner AU
  • football aesthetic for Lee’s fic*
  • happy Sólo Dios Sabe AU
  • I really want to do more manips, but I don’t know what of yet
  • (someone requested Chalet Girl manips, maybe I’ll watch that)
  • extra ficlet for the astronaut AU
  • martial arts AU as requested by anon
  • orchestra AU
  • mafia AU
  • western AU
  • something based of the Poldark aesthetic?
  • oh god the priest AU fic, please jebus let me finish this
  • a short fic that somehow ended up involving a lot of rain?

…that’s more than I was expecting, but it’s good to see it all written down, because my memory is awful. anything specific you guys are the most interested in?

“Do you ever think it’s fucked up that we still call each other North and South, even after all these years? Instead of our names?”

The sounds of her reassembling her gun die away next to him, until the walls of the tiny hotel room seem to close in. The silence stifles the breath in his chest, pulls taut until he has to break it (before it snaps).

“I don’t even remember the last time you called me–”

“That’s who we are now,” she interrupts.She avoids his eyes when he brings himself to look up at her, her gaze sharp on her hands as they flex around the metal. “Can’t just undo it all.”

She snaps the last piece together, holds the pistol up. It gleams in the lamp light.

“Can’t go back now,” she says. “Bro.”


I hope you like this as much as I do - Mod Niklas

Title: Guns In My Head

Fandom: Hetalia

Age Rating: Mature

Pairings: Spain x South Italy, Germany x North Italy 

Author: Akuma Fish

Platforms: AO3


Lovino is a student in his last year of university living with his brother and soon-to-be brother in law. At age 23 he’s still single, only ever finding action in alcohol blurred nights that rarely last until the next morning. Then Antonio walks into his life, an obnoxious bastard who somehow convinces Lovino to let him be his Spanish tutor. It seems like things are finally looking up for Lovino, his brother’s getting married and he’s finally finding people he can really call friends. But then things start to change, memories start to come back and Lovino knows that life will never be the same for him.

saereneth  asked:

To ask all of the above: South introduces Kaikaina to her brother, North. And also his two idiot boyfriends, York and Wash. There probably will be chaos.

This is the domestic bizarro world version of what isn’t happening in Carnival of Destruction, I am laughing so hard. Warning for Asshole Dakotas being Asshole Dakotas to Asshole Dakotas.


“So, my brother, right?” South says, shoving open the door to her apartment building. It always sticks with the summer heat. “He’s a square.”

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North to South

I’m a huge suck for Jon Snow so if you’re gonna put him in icy water and then show him looking sad in a bed covered in fur blankets, you better believe I’m gonna write the interim bit where he’s sick. (And hello, vanillas, if you stumble here. This is sickfic/sneezefic. But you’re welcome to check it out, I guess?)

North to South
A Game of Throne fic


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Fic: Two Thoughts Walk Into a Bar

On the edge of UNSC-controlled space, there is a colony originally settled by a combination of American and Russian colonists. The resulting colony used Cyrillic with an American twang, a pidgin of English and Russian that was the informal street language. English was taught in schools– it was, after all, UNSC controlled space, and if you wanted kids to get ahead, you taught them English. The colony had almost tapped all the natural gasses that formed its wealth, and when the war ended their manufacturing economy almost collapsed. This left the colony dirt poor with only the reputation of brewing the best vodka and the best whiskey on that side of subspace.


On that colony there is a bar.

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Soul Eater // Soul x Maka

These are fanarts to shu-of-the-wind’s Soul Eater/North and South fanfiction Olive Man. ;u;

I was fangirling ealier about that fic and if you haven’t read it yet PLEASE DO it is amazing and totally worth reading it. I TOTALLY FELL IN LOVE WITH IT (as you can see, since I draw fanarts haha). ;u; The one with Maka is a little older, I tried some miniminimini animation but yeah, even when it is jerky i kinda like it. ;u; I hope you like them too shu-of-the-wind and turiantea since you both were all swooning about Soul with a gun and rolled up sleeves I HOPE I DID OKAY ;n;